the Leathermines

Back to Chapter 19

The Royal Guards faced out.  The Peaches faced in.  The circle was not complete, but it was enough.

Laun had stepped to where Wanda had used her rope skills to tie the man over a large, mostly flat rock in the garden.  He was face up, still struggling, though he knew he was dead.  Laun threw the dagger that until that point was held loosely in her hand at the foot of the rock, the tip landing in the sand and the blade slowly falling sideways after it landed.

There were words that Laun almost understood.  Her time with the K’tahll ambassador had been useful, but the language still was beyond her.  She did have a few things she knew how to say.  Silar stepped to her, staying in back and to her right.

“He says that he is only one of many come to bring the warrant and title of Blue Master to the other continent.”

Laun nodded.  She said in a cold, flat tone, “Eiah.”

The man stopped.  He squinted and struggled to rise to see Laun better.  He continued to talk, seeing Silar behind Laun and starting to sneer.

“He says that you are just a puppet, that saying what your...  Well, me, tells you to say is meaningless.”

Laun’s head went sideways and she shook her head.  “Eiah, gub’tataka.  Sisu bah’i.”

Silar kept his voice low and said, “I didn’t know you could understand...”

Laun shook her head.  Her voice was a whisper as she said, “I can’t, but he doesn’t know that.  I only know what your ambassador taught me, and I know I am not saying the words right.”

Silar had his eyes on the assassin.  The assassin was no longer showing defiance.  He was scared.  He watched as Laun stepped forward and crossed her arms.  “I know you can speak other languages.  I hope you can speak Midlands.”

He nodded.  He also was trying to get his arms out from the bonds keeping him over the rock.

Laun shook her head.  She paced slightly, still looking at him.  Her gait did not show that her knee felt like a hot coal had been shot into it.  She was slow and deliberate, the smoothness as if she was being pushed by the winds.

“You are from K’tahll.”  He nodded.  “All this way to take something that doesn’t belong to you.”  He clenched his teeth together and glared at her.

More Peaches were in the circle, more Royal Guards looking outwards.  Laun glimpsed her Husband and knew that Ifahyd was here, even though she did not see his face.  She sighed and dropped her arms to her side.  She stepped to the feet of the man and retrieved the knife.

With little regard for his skin, Laun started to slowly cut the assassin’s clothing off.  He clenched his teeth and then swore, in many languages.  His tunic came off in pieces.  The belt cut with some difficulty, pulling him off the rock a little with the strength needed to cut through the hide.  The ballooned pants with bleached spots were cut and then pulled off in strips, the sandals and loincloth the only things left to the man after Laun was done.  She had taken her time, watched his reactions, smelled strong chemicals in the fabric, found things in his clothing, and scars on his body.

She had blocked out everything else.  She was in the moment, of the moment.  Laun saw his flinches and smiled.  Little lines of red on his dark skin, but not quite as dark as Silar, made her teeth show.  His swearing and swallowing hard made her giggle.

Laun started to undo her own clothing.  The weighted metal belt clanked to the ground.  The embroidered and trimmed overtunic was unlaced and dropped.  Laun pulled on the thin undertunic and soon was bare to the setting sun, and the eyes of the assassin.  Her braid was down her back, the tail brushing her own tail, the very tip could be seen below her ass.  The golden sun of the evening made Laun glint and glow as if she were a metal statue, one that moved with a deadly grace.

“Debi Agntha”

Laun remembered that name.  “I am warrior.  I am mother.  I am leader.  Who are you to say that I am not your Goddess?”

He shook his head even as he was looking at her scars, the cosmetic designs looking as though they were part of them, and yet not.  The strength she had to display those scars was awesome to him.  Then he saw the peach flower and branch on her breast.

“Ghirni Pica!  Peach!  No!”

Laun walked to him on the rock and watched his regained struggle to escape.  She smiled, a relaxed posture and an almost pleasant smile.  Unless you saw her eyes.

“I will ask you a few questions, little bother.  You will most likely not answer.  Either way, your body is mine.”

Edgar heard and winced.  He looked down at the King under his arm and saw a fascination, and paleness in the Rosemond pale face.  Edgar knew what Laun was going to do, and it would be too much for anyone who did not know her true core, her Bloodlust.

Laun had the knife in her hand again.  She carefully knelt against the rock and cut along the loincloth on the man.  He stopped moving when the blade bit in and held his breath.

He was now naked, his arms and feet bound and tied to the slightly curved rock beneath him.  Laun straddled him, an instinctive buck from him almost doing it’s job and keeping Laun off of him.  She struck him with an open hand on his chest and waited.  He looked at the knife she did not use on him and shook his head.

Laun sighed.

Her legs went over his again.  She was not easily bucked off that time, now that she was expecting it.  She worked her way up until she was sitting on his groin, his manhood twitching under her.  She stayed there, the weight of herself on him holding him down.  He tried to move, to turn or buck, but that just made his body excite and fail him.  She could feel that he was getting hard, the look of pain on his face making it known to her that he was trying not to.

Laun’s knee was screaming at her.  It was pressed into the rock and every time she moved, it hurt a little more.  Laun finally leaned onto the other knee and straightened her leg, which let his manhood slide up between them.  Laun settled herself, her new position slightly awkward, but not as painful.

“Now, little brother.  What is your name?”

He shook his head and tried to look away into the settling night.  He saw lanterns being brought, knowing that those around him were watching his death.

“You have no name.  I have had many in my ranks who have lost their names, and some who have found new ones.”  Laun leaned on his stomach with the knife in her hand, the blade pressing along his skin, but not into it.

He looked up into her face.  The sun was gone, but the flickering lanterns did nothing to hide her coolness in the desert heat.  She moved slightly and he could feel his body wanting her.  She was on him, pressing herself into his manhood, but he could not do anything about it.  He should not do anything about it.  He closed his eyes and then found he was moaning.

Laun had seen some of the conflict, felt it under her.  He closed his eyes and she started to rock back and forth on his crotch.  He throbbed under her and she smiled when he moaned.  His body was hers, even if he didn’t know it right then.

The voice she used was low, silky.  She leaned over him, the knife still pressed into him, warming with his own heat.  “Little brother, are you after the title yourself?  Or are you working in the name of someone else?”  She felt his body move, his head tried to turn away when she mentioned someone else.  She started to move her hips in a figure-8, pressing and swaying and making his own hips start to move with her.  “Little brother, why would you do something in the name of someone else when the warrant says that the person who kills the King is the one who claims the title?”

His eyes opened and he saw her closer.  Her voice and face had softened, her face closer and her hips making his manhood throbbing for her.  He could see the scars on her skin, the bruises on her neck.  The design of the flower carved into her almost seemed delicate, as if the scaring was done with a loving hand as she endured.  He saw gold and green glints in her eyes, flashing as she moved on him.  She was exotic in every way to the assassin and for a moment he forgot that he was her prisoner.

“Please...”  He gasped as the hand with the knife moved up him, a small cut made as she dragged it along his skin.  It wasn’t the pain he expected.  There was the flash, but then, as she moved on him, it warmed and stung as she pressed her skin to his.

Laun put the knife along the man’s neck, warning him as she held herself above him.  Her voice was low but carried as she said, “You came such a long way for someone else.  You were almost perfect with blending in.  You had the opportunity and you took it.  But all for another man.”  She felt his breathing change as he turned his head slightly.  “Oh?  For another woman?  Did she promise you that you would be at her side?  That you would be with her?”  Laun moved her hips strongly against him and said, “That you would have her like this?”

His eyes were closing.  She saw a small nod.  She smiled as she leaned in and kissed him.

Edgar heard the small gasp and looked up across the circle.  The Marquis was standing next to the Captain of the Guard, both men watching, the Captain’s bald head and bald face showing his incredulity.  Edgar looked down to Ifahyd and saw the King look up at him.  There was slight confusion, but there was also a fire that Edgar was starting to recognize.  He was being enflamed by the show, but Edgar was not sure how much more either of them would be able to watch.

“Now, little brother...”  Laun put the knife on the rock by the man’s head and reached down between them.  She positioned him and regretted not being able to hold herself just above him to tease as she tortured.  “You are not under her.  You are under me.”

His head went back, his hips thrust up and there was a pained sound that turned into a growl.  He closed his eyes tight and tried to hold still, but she was moving subtly and his body responded to her.

Her breath was hot on his skin.  She was above him, around him.  Laun held herself up with her hands on his chest, moving her hips as she pushed away from him.  She saw the tension in his hands and arms as they strained against the bonds, but now to steady himself, not to try to get away.

“Little brother.  How could you expect to have your mistress at home after you had finished your mission?  You are a puzzle piece to her, a tool.  Easily molded to what she wants.  Or at least wanted.”

He was moving with her, thrusting as much as he could with the rhythm Laun was creating.  His eyes were now on her, not closed, not defiant, not scared.  He wanted her, wanted what she was doing to him.  Laun raised a hand from his stomach and made several signs in the air, ending with four fingers in the air.

Silar had never stepped back.  He was at the man’s arm in a stride, looking up at his Mistress.  Three others, Verat, Fredis and Wanda, came and took positions.  Daffyd did not have the rank that the others did, but he stepped into the circle and held a lantern as he stood at the head of the rock bed.

Laun rocked on his cock.  She felt him within her, but did not feel excitement.  She played at the feelings she knew she would have if she was in the throes of passion.  Her hand went to her breast, held her nipple and ring between fingers.  Laun rocked on him, feeling how his body was in sync with hers.  She sighed, a sigh to sound out her need in other situations.  She felt him and saw he was ready for the next part.

She went forward and pulled the knife from beside his head, a slight metallic ring sounding through the circle.  As she rocked on him, she pulled the sharp blade along some of the scars he already had.  Testing scars in slightly different places than from what she was used to, but obvious to her what they were.  Fighting scars.  Ceremonial scars.  At least one visible set of passion scars.

Laun put the tip of the knife into his chest right above one of his nipples.  He gasped.  She was watching and saw that it was pain, but it was the good pain for him.  She smiled and tried to soften that smile.  “Little brother, I give choices.”

The slight glaze that had come to him cleared and he looked around, seeing the people now at his limbs.  He tried to stop thrusting, but he couldn’t.  “Please, Mistress.  Let me...finish...”

Laun stopped and leaned into the knife.  “Then you know what I want you to tell me.”

He tried to move, to thrust, to get away from the knife.  None of it was working.  He stopped moving and the pressure on the knife lessened, the blood from the cut slowly dripping down his chest to the rock below.  He looked at the faces of the people around him, all waiting on her.  He knew he was dead either way.  He wanted to be loyal.  But he knew Mistress Peach was right.  He had thought that his Mistress would dispose of him as soon as he returned.  He had hoped not.

The knife moved and was now cutting slowly into his skin in a line next to one of his testing scars.  She blew on his cut as the knife left the line of red behind, the sting and heat of his blood almost as good as his Mistress had done the night before he had left to come to Rosemond.  Mistress Peach knew, and he could see the Bloodlust in her eyes.

“I was sent by-ah!”  She had moved on him and he was deep in her.  He had to breathe again before he could say, “Sent by Rajaku’aris Needa-”

Laun heard the name and heard Silar’s low growl.  She did not look at him, but could feel that he was bristling.  She took a chance and said, “A royal?  A Royal with bloodlust and a need for the Master title of an assassin?”  She saw Silar look away and knew it was not just a royal.  Laun cut shallowly down the man’s ribcage, making him move and gasp.  “I think she oversteps her bounds.”

There was a sign from her and his legs were unbound.  It took a moment for him to realize that his legs were free.  The strain of the position lessened his strength, but he bent his knees and used what he had to start bouncing Laun on him.  He lost himself in the feelings until he felt another cut on his stomach.  He looked up and saw that she was holding the almost-assassin’s blade with two fingers, right above where she could go through and to his heart.

“You know what else I want to know...”  Her voice was almost dreamy in it’s quality.  Her eyes were half-closed and she was moving with him, but still at her own pace.

“Three others came with me.  With the envoy.  I was to be the first...”  He felt his sac start to tighten, the confession the start of him coming to his peak.

There was another wave to her hand and the arms were released.  There was a thrust from him before he knew he could hold her.  With a tremble, he sat up with Laun in his lap, his lips around one nipple, and the tip of the blade slicing into his stomach.  Laun let go of the knife and held his head to her as his own arms went around her waist.  She felt the warmth of his blood coming down her stomach, and the cut of the Peach blade into her own skin, mingling their red as he came to a peak in her.

He was quiet.  It wasn’t just the mouth around her nipple.  When she expected him to call out, he closed his eyes tight and just held still.  She could feel the pulse of him through her womanhood, the ice of her core breaking, if not melting, at the feeling. A true heat had started in her, and she knew she would need more after this.

He was panting around her nipple.  He looked up at Laun and leaned back, the knife falling and letting more of his blood out.  It was not a deep cut, but it was flowing freely.

Laun picked up the blade and looked into his eyes.  She leaned down, following his body as he lay back on the rock.  The knife was at his throat and her lips were on his.

“Do you wish to live, little brother?”

He was still panting, but his breath caught before he said, “Wish to, yes.  But-I swore to my Princess I would complete my mission or die.”

Laun nodded and put her mouth next to his ear.  “I give you a chance.  Will you live or will you die.”

He sobbed.  “I-”  She felt him swallow and push slightly on her until she was looking at him in the eyes again.  “I...”  Several hands went for knives as the assassin put his hands on her shoulders and pulled on her.

Laun was kissing him again.  It was a passionate kiss, with nothing held back.  She felt his hand on hers, around the pommel of the knife.  Then she felt him move the knife, not towards her neck just a twitch above the double edged blade but down, towards his own.  She followed the pressure, feeling the sharp blade cut through the layers of his throat.  There was a change in his breath and then she tasted blood.

She cut until she couldn’t any more.  Their lips were together until he started to convulse.  Laun was covered with blood, his blood dripping from her mouth as she watched the life go from his eyes.  The hot blood on her evening-cool skin thrilled her even as she knew she had taken yet another life.

Laun made sure he was gone into the darkness before she struck the pommel to his forehead.  She wasn’t sure how well the Peach flower would show on the dark skin, but she heard a crunch as she struck, knowing that it would show enough.

There was silence.

Laun felt both exhausted and energized.  She dropped the knife over the edge of the rock and sat up.  She felt the blood cooling on her in the evening air, slowly clotting and thickening on her.  It made her shiver, and not all in pleasure.

She looked around and suddenly felt naked and exposed.  Her Peaches were still looking at her, several of the Guards and others staring at her.  She put her hands over her breasts and looked down.  She could still see where the stomach wound was oozing on him, her own stomach with a small cut adding to the blood stench.

Girl was there, holding a blanket.  She did not wait and draped it around Laun’s shoulders without asking.  It helped with the chill and the feeling of being exposed.  Until Laun saw Wanda’s face and she felt all her energy crash out of her.

Wanda’s face was slick with tears, and a few streaks of blood.  There was terror in her face that she did not know how to cover, or control.  Laun wanted to take her ward and hold her, tell her it was just part of the mission, but Laun knew that was not all of it.  Wanda had never seen Laun do an interrogation like that before.  Wanda knew that Laun did such, but had not imagined even half of what had just happened in front of her.

Laun tried to stand.  Her legs did not want to work, her hurt knee buckling when she tried to put weight on it.  She was helped to the edge of the rock and sat as the body was moved.

The moment had passed.  Those who had stood transfixed came back to themselves, most horrified that they had not turned away.  Royal Guards started to move away, Peaches disappeared into the night.  Those who approached were cautious, even those who had seen Laun do similar before.

Laun coughed and then spit, the blood dark on the sand.  “Cut off his head and wrap it.  Give it to the K’tahll Ambassador to give to-”  Laun looked at Silar “-Princess Needa Khan of the Royal house of Mahj’Kral with my regrets.”

Silar could not look at Laun.  She knew that it could have been a sister, but with how he was acting, it was his wife.  The double standard for women and men that Laun had seen and found was strong in Silar and always had been.  He wanted her for himself and only himself, even yet, but had a Wife, a Princess and probably an Heir descendent in K’tahll.  Silar, Heir to the crown of K’tahll, Prince who had recently been accepted back to the royal embrace.  That was one small piece of information even the Ambassador had not given her.

Edgar was before Laun, his arm around Ifahyd.  Laun looked at the men and saw the companionship, the support of her Lord to the King.  She saw the sadness in Edgar’s eyes.  She saw heat and confusion in Ifahyd’s.

“Your Majesty, I suggest you ask the Ambassador to check the papers of everyone who came with him and his people over the last year.  Then I suggest you tell them to all leave, regardless.  If there is one team here, there are more.”

Ifahyd did not have time to talk before Laun’s strengthening voice rose and she turned to Marquis Blaque.  “You need to meet with the new Blue.  He has a plan to keep things like this from happening, and you need to coordinate with him to make sure his authority is solid within the grey.”  He stepped forward and started to bow, his mouth open to speak.

Laun ignored him and turned her attention to the Captain of the Guards.  “Check all the new servants in the laundry.  That is how he came into the Royal Estate.  His team mates may still be there.  The rest may not be as dark as he is.”  There was a salute and the Captain of the Royal Guards on the Estate turned and went into the night.

Laun started to cough and then made a sign, making most of the people around her back up, Ifahyd being pulled away in time for him to be missed by the blood and bile Laun threw up.  She started to shake and made a sign of, ‘shock,’ right before she threw up again.

There was a slight confusion before Edgar took control.  “You, take her to get cleaned.  Silar, at my side.  Girl, take care of Wanda.  Daffyd, go with our Lady.  You, Tris, go with the Marquis.”  Edgar dropped his arm from Ifahyd and turned to the Marquis.  “You have been sitting back and watching as the battle swept around you.  It is time for you and yours to step in.  It is your kingdom they are attacking, not just a man.”

There was a sneer on Silver’s lips, but his tone was even as he said, “I understand, Lord Salam-Dir.  It is time to have a front before more...innocents die.”  He bowed to Edgar with a slight turn to Ifahyd before he stood and went into the night himself.

Edgar kept close to Ifahyd as he took control of things.  Laun was gone, the Peaches knowing that she was not going to be in any condition to give orders for a while.  Those who had been behind the wall against Falmir’s troops followed immediately, Edgar having been their military leader and household leader before Laun came back.  Those who had not been through that, hesitated, but knew that he was their Mistress’ Lord and did as told.

King Ifahyd let Edgar be in control.  It was nice to have someone else take the reins, and know how to use them.  A large pillow was brought and Ifahyd sat where he was at Edgar’s side, watching and not realizing he was, too, in a form of shock.  It was as if he was watching a pantomime play, the players having just done a death scene for his pleasure.  He found he was wet, that his face was wet.  He put his hand to his face and he found that he was crying, not really knowing when he started, or about what.

Edgar was mostly satisfied with his commands.  He cringed seeing several of the Rosemond Royal Council were coming towards them, servants with lanterns on long sticks lighting their way to the blood covered rock.  Lord Salam-Dir and preemptive leader of the Peaches looked down at Ifahyd and knew the man was in no condition to meet with any of the Council right then.  He bodily put himself between the council members and Ifahyd, walking to one of the Royal Guards and pointing to the King.

“I need to talk to his Majesty, Lord Edgar.”  The council was the Merchant General, an odd man to want to have audience with the King at that time of night.  He seemed both calm and nervous, his dark blonde hair showing under his head wrap and his clothing looking as though he had thrown them on.

“He is not available, sir.  He just had an assassination attempt that almost worked.  He is not feeling well.”  Edgar motioned back towards the almost empty dining tent, indicating the man should leave.

“I think he is available as he is sitting right there, Lord Edgar.”  The other council member had arrived, the Industry Minister looking uncomfortable, and yet was there, breathing heavily after walking for quite some way.

There was a noise and the Royal Guard stepped to the side.  “My Love, let them approach if they will.  I should be available to them whenever I am needed.”

There was a meaningful look between the men before they started towards their King.  One stopped and stared at the blood on the rock and on the sand, insects already gathering for the feast.  He swallowed and looked at one of the lantern bearers, a look that Edgar caught, and then saw.

There were still Peaches around.  Edgar whistled and two were on either side of the servant, the lantern thrown to the ground and the man held before anyone could stop them.  An onyx handled knife was held up, still in it’s sheath.  There was a shit eating grin on the Peach’s face as he said, “Should we keep him for interrogation, like the last one?”

The Merchant General and Industry Minister looked at the rock again.  The Industry Minister went pale and fainted where he stood.  The Merchant General stood his ground.

Ifahyd was helped up from the pillow, shaky, but more aware of reality.  “Ich?  You, too?  Ichthius!  We are cousins!  We grew up together!”

The Merchant General’s voice was low and tried to sound dangerous.  “And if it wasn’t for our Aunt, I would have been King, not you.  What is more perfect?  King of Rosemond AND Blue Master of the Sword and Crow?  That is power.”

Ifahyd stepped closer to his cousin and put a hand out to Edgar for support.  “You idiot!  Aunt Enny was Blue!”

Edgar saw the shock in the councilor’s face after it sunk in.  He saw the way Ifahyd had come to the knowledge himself, a rage showing, and a tear falling.

“Guards, take all of the council’s people to holding, including the councils themselves.”  The King was back in control, of himself and his Kingdom.

 

Onto Chapter 21 Where Laun is introspective