Bertrice Small - The Twilight Lord

“Because she knew that your father loved her. Had he not, she would have rid herself of you, Jonah, but by keeping you she bound your wealthy father to her. Do not become sentimental about Farah at this point in your history, my love. When Rupert Bloodaxe died and his wife sold you into slavery, your mother did not protest. She let it happen because it was easier for her than having to pay for the schooling that your father had begun. Farah did not care what happened to you, my husband. She cared only about herself. Only when it appeared that you were, indeed, despite everything, becoming a person of importance did she acknowledge your existence.”

“You are hard,” he said to her.

“I love you, Jonah,” Vilia answered him. “I took you to my bed when you were still a slave. Your status mattered to me not at all. I will never desert you or this child of ours that I now carry. Your mother drops her poison into your ear because she sees the love I have for you. She does not know how to love, has never loved. But she understands power. And she wants no one influencing you but her.”

“Aye, you are hard,” he repeated, “but you are also astute, my love.” He turned on his side so he might look down into her face. “If this child you carry is a son, Vilia, you will never have to fear being replaced in either my affections or my council. I know what my mother is, but having gotten her elected headmistress of the Pleasure Guild, I now need her influence. Now tell me, is she involved in this group of women? Are any of the Pleasure Mistresses?”

“Nay,” Vilia said. We did not believe she could be trusted. She did not completely answer his question which told him exactly what he wanted to know and she knew it. But at least he would not know who, or how many women from the Pleasure Guild were implicated.

Jonah nodded. “It is possible,” he said, “that these women can be of help to me. You accuse me of falling back into the old ways and not moving forward. But if I could aid Hetar’s female population in obtaining a modicum of power I should be their hero. And while I prefer the order and civility Hetar has lost in recent years, it is entirely possible that with the best and most intelligent of our women helping to manage the government we could once again rebuild the finest of what was once Hetar.” He leaned forward, and kissed her lips. “You have given me much to think about, Vilia.” He bent lower, pulling aside her garment and licking at her nipples.

Vilia enclosed his head in her hands and smiled to herself. Jonah was hers and no one, not even his mother, was going to take him from her. While the magnates who owned the Pleasure Houses had chosen Farah to succeed Lady Gillian, the new headmistress was not particularly well liked. It would not be difficult to arrange an accident. She stretched her body, squirming out of her night garment, further arousing Jonah. She teased him with kisses, licks and wicked touches until he was almost whimpering with his need to be inside her and then she spread herself wide for him, crying out as he entered her lush body. “Be gentle, my love,” she purred in his ear. “Remember the child.” Her nails raked lightly down his narrow back as he pistoned her. Yes, Jonah was hers to command. Pulling his head to her, Vilia kissed him passionately.

When the headmistress of the Pleasure Guild learned that her son’s wife was with child she shrieked with her outrage and frustration. “The bitch has done it deliberately!”

“Do not refer to my wife as a bitch,” Jonah said softly. “You should be happy for me. I will have an heir at last.”

“If it is indeed your child,” Lady Farah snapped.

“What can you possibly mean, madam?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.

“She cuckolded Gaius Prospero with you while she was his wife. Who is to say she has not taken another lover now that she is your wife?”

“Anything is possible, but I am no fool. From the day Vilia became my wife she has been followed wherever she went. There is no one else. The child is mine,” he told his mother. “The love slave I bought her is not fertile. I am not a fool.”

“Unless, of course, when she goes to Gillian’s her lover is awaiting her,” Lady Farah murmured. “She was never before particular friends with my predecessor. But suddenly they are as thick as thieves. I find that most curious.”

“I imagine that you would,” he said, amused. “However I know why she meets with Gillian and it has nothing to do with a lover, madam. I do believe that Vilia is correct when she says that your renewed interest in me is because of my power.”

Lady Farah hissed her annoyance. She was not pleased to learn that her daughter-in-law was far cleverer than she had previously thought. “You should have a second, younger wife,” she finally said. “There is no guarantee that Vilia will be able to carry this child to term. She is, after all, in her late thirties. And what if it is not a son? She only gave Gaius Prospero one living son, but several daughters.”

“She has promised me a son,” he said implacably, “and I do not need a second wife. One wife is more than enough for me.”

“I am so glad that Vilia has the gift of sight and can guarantee you a son,” Lady Farah said sarcastically. “When did she gain this gift?”

“If she says it will be a son, then it will be a son. It is not like Vilia to disappointment me,” Jonah told his mother. But truth be known, he, too, had wondered at his wife’s conviction that the child she carried was a son. How did she know? And what if the child was indeed a female?

But Vilia insisted the child in her belly was a son. And, she told her husband, his name would be Egon. “It means formidable, ” she said.

“But if you should birth a daughter-”

“I will not,” Vilia told him. There was no female in her belly. She knew. Oh yes, she knew. Just before she had realized that she was with child she had found herself upon the Dream Plain one night as she slept. She had heard a voice calling her name and then she had come face-to-face with a tall and slender man with dark eyes, and black hair. He was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes upon.

“I have been waiting for you, Cousin,” he told her.

“I do not know you,” Vilia said. “You are not my cousin.”

“Are you Vilia, the descendant of Ulla?” the man asked her.

“I am the twelfth generation from Ulla, aye,” Vilia answered him. “Who are you?” He really was lovely and there was something both intriguing and frightening about him, as well, yet she found herself fascinated by him.

“I am Kol, the twelfth generation descendant from Jorunn. Both of our ancestresses were impregnated by the great sorcerer, Usi. Before he was foully slain, Usi sent his concubines away so none would know of the seeds he had planted in their bellies. Ulla went to Hetar with her father. Jorunn was sent to Usi’s brother, the lord of the Dark Lands. So as you can see we are related by blood, my beautiful cousin.”

“Why did you attempt to invade Hetar?” she asked him.

“Because I wanted your lands,” he told her with a charming smile. “And as your emperor was a weak fool, I thought to take advantage of him. If Terah had not aided you Hetar would now belong to me. I still want it but I shall gain it in another way,” Kol told her. He reached out and drew her into his arms. His hand caressed her face. “You are a beautiful woman, Cousin,” he told her, “and I would take pleasures with you.”

Suddenly there was a wide black silken couch with a single broad rolled arm before her, and her night garments seemed to have dissolved, leaving her naked. Kol was naked, too, and Vilia’s eyes widened as she viewed his massive organ. She gasped. He had two manhoods! A prominent long and thick one and a thin silvery one with a pointed tip much like an arrow. She had never seen anything like it and she was fascinated in spite of herself. But it was nothing more than a dream, she reasoned, and you could do whatever you wanted in a dream. And she wanted to take pleasures with this man who called himself her cousin.