4. Lyr

4

LYR

L yr is left alone in the cabin for a long while. He walks around, which doesn't take long. It's a very small cabin. Damon has left the jug of ale on the table. Lyr fills his cup and drinks it. He thinks of his time in Pellex, in Blackstone Castle.

Lyr had once thought his whole life would be spent under Queen Jareleezi's knives and flames. He had always assumed he would die on her stone table when her rituals demanded more than blood and pain. Until her Gods told her something she needed him to do.

Jareleezi. Even thinking her name makes Lyr feel light-headed. He has escaped her, but her presence still looms over him. The Azurian army is chasing her with Damon's ship. She is the member of the Pellex court who they think escaped to Ik-Sundal, protecting her treasures.

But it seems strange they are chasing her to Ik-Sundal. He wonders if they are wrong about where she has truly gone.

Lyr sits down at the table and drinks more of the ale. Its water-weak, made to quench the thirst. As he drains his cup he is glad to find his thoughts wander from Queen Jareleezi to his new Master. Damon Darekul is not what Lyr expected. Jareleezi told him Damon would be a cruel warrior. A vicious, merciless man with but one weakness. But Damon is not like that at all. He is a thoughtful, honourable man. A handsome man. A man Lyr feels safe with.

And Damon is determined not to touch Lyr. Not to indulge the desires he considers a weakness.

It's late in the day when someone knocks on the cabin door.

Lyr walks over to open it and finds Opeth standing in the doorway. He had almost forgotten she was on the ship too. He is so thrilled to see her, he feels tears prickling at his eyes as she pulls him into a familiar hug.

"My dear little Lyr," she says. "I don't have long before that spoiled prince wakes and misses me, but I had to see you." She places a crooked finger under Lyr's chin and lifts his face so she can gaze at him. "Now, have you got anything to drink?"

Lyr nods. "Yes, but only weak ale."

"Ale will do," Opeth says, gliding into the room. "Oh, it is tiny," she says when she can see the size of the cabin. "He said it was. He is so pleased about it." Opeth sits down and pours herself some ale using Damon's abandoned cup. "He truly thinks he's pulled off the cleverest plan the world has ever seen, putting you in here with his bastard brother. He must desire you himself, he is so certain you are irresistible."

"Damon has already said he won't touch me. "

Opeth makes a scoffing noise and drinks her cup of ale in one. "Do you want him to?"

Lyr bites his lip. "I do not know," he says, taking his own seat at the table. "I did not expect him to be so handsome. And he has been very kind to me." He feels himself colouring, pink in his cheeks. "He saved my life. Sometimes when he looks at me, I think he is imagining kissing me and I…" Lyr looks down at the tabletop. "I want him to. I did not expect it. I thought he would take me and I would have to bear it, but it seems he will not take me and I will have to bear that. He is so handsome and he has been so kind and careful…" Lyr feels ashamed of his outburst. He takes a long sip of ale and changes the subject, saying, "And you? Are you safe? With Atticul?"

Opeth smiles. "Oh, I'm safe. I'm very safe."

"What about Razelii? What happened to her?"

"She was taken by the other prince. The little young one. He seemed quite happy about it. I think he will treat her well. Or, not badly, anyway."

Lyr nods. Pleased to hear this. "And the others?"

"Divided up among the high-ranking officers. No one was killed. You were the only one even threatened with that."

"Not killed that you know of," Lyr says darkly. "Who knows how they're being treated."

"I doubt any of them are worse than Ramel." Opeth fixes her gaze on Lyr. Her deep black eyes are strangely soothing. "And you? You are sure this sly bastard brother is treating you kindly? Apart from his refusal to bed you?"

"There are worse things than not being bedded."

"Dangerous though. For you, maybe. You would be wise to find a way to take him to bed if you can. For safety. To be sure Damon won't decide you're too much trouble to keep around when we dock in Attar. You're part of Atticul's scheme to tarnish the bastard in the eyes of their cruel God. It may be better for Damon to dispose of you. Atticul will not stop goading him. He thinks Damon could challenge him for the throne. He's hardly spoken of anything else. Even when he is inside me." Opeth smirks darkly.

"Damon has spoken of it too. He seems sure that would never be possible."

"We have landed right in the middle of some dastardly Azurian politics, it seems." Opeth smiles. "I don't know much about your bastard, Lyr, but I am sure he would make a better Emperor than Atticul who is an angry fool."

"Perhaps, but do Azurians want good Emperors? Damon says the one they have now is quite terrible."

Opeth laughs. "You mean the current one? Selim? The uncle? Apparently, he is some kind of zealot. He has vowed his body to their God and will take no wife and father no children to remain pure in his devotion. All he does is pray for victory in war. He has brought in all these strict laws about morality and now the poor Azurians can't so much as pleasure themselves without risking the wrath of their enforcers."

"I don't think Damon wants to be Emperor," says Lyr. "He didn't even want to be in the Imperial Army. He was forced. He was indentured for twenty years for some kind of crime. When I asked him today, he wouldn't say what he did. But he's finished his sentence now. I get the impression he just wants to be left alone to retire."

"Perhaps he could be persuaded to be left alone to retire with you."

Lyr shakes his head, a thought so sweet it is almost painful. "He has a wife. I heard him talking to his friend. He has this friend. I met her. A massive woman, I think she's Plumian. She's gone with the rest of the troops now to the Ik-Sundal border."

"Shame she's left," says Opeth, helping herself to more of the ale. The last of the ale it turns out, the jug's dregs only yield half a cup. "She sounds interesting."

"She is. Damon said to her that he'd find me work in his manor. In the kitchens. Not pillow work. Males can't be pillow workers in Azuria."

Opeth grins as she finishes the last of the ale. "I think you'll find they can. There are pillow workers everywhere, for everything that is desired."

"But I will not be for his bed," Lyr insists. Opeth seems unwilling to accept Damon has rejected him. "Not in this cabin, on this ship. Or in his manor. He is sly, but perhaps he doesn't want to bed me."

"Oh, he wants to bed you," Opeth says, pulling a bottle out of the pockets of her white robes.

Lyr gasps as she sets it on the table. "You had your own drink all along?"

"I did. But I took it from Atticul and it's a strange foreign drink that looks like a man's seed and tastes worse. The effects are nice though. Want some?"

Lyr nods. He can think of nothing he wants more than making his mind sweet and soft. Opeth pours some of the white liquid into each of the two cups on the table. Lyr takes a drink. The liquid is viscous and bitter, but as soon as he swallows it he feels a warm looseness spreading through his body.

"Good?" says Opeth.

Lyr nods. But he is eager to return to the subject of Damon. It is strange how much his mind keeps circling back to this man. A man who for so long was just a name. Jareleezi's obsession, but just a name. Now he is real. He is flesh and blood and a face Lyr cannot shake from his mind.

Damon Darekul.

"He might want to bed me, I suppose," Lyr says, feeling the strange drink soothe his blood, soften his limbs and loosen his tongue. "But he won't. He won't do it because he knows that is what Atticul wants. To make the ship aware he is lying with me. To sow seeds that will destroy his reputation when he returns to Azuria."

"So he is sly, but he never lies with men? He fights his nature?"

"He tries to fight it. He must. The Azurian laws are strict and cruel. I think he does sometimes succumb but he hasn't for a while. He's a great warrior. They call him One Man Army."

Opeth laughs again. "I've heard that. Did Jareleezi tell you that you must bed him? She sent you to him, didn't she? That was why she hid you with us in the harem? Did she know he would take you?"

Lyr looks down. "Her Gods told her. She knew that if she placed me with the pleasure slaves I would be given to Damon Darekul."

Opeth frowns, "What did she mean for you to do?"

"Truly, I am not sure. The Gods simply said I must be sent to him. To change his path."

"Really? So Jareleezi sent you to Damon Darekul, with no mission. Nothing you had to do?"

Lyr says, "She was obeying her Gods by giving me to him."

They each drink another mouthful of the strange Azurian tonic in Opeth's bottle. "Then I still think seducing him would be the best way," Opeth says. "He is a powerful man. It will keep you safe if you know his secrets and hold his pleasure. "

As Lyr passes the bottle back, the cabin door opens and Damon returns. He stands big and broad in the tiny cabin doorway.

Lyr feels his heart thump.

His head is fuzzy from the strange drink. He can feel the heat of it in his face. He smiles at Damon.

Damon does not smile. He is looking at Opeth.

Opeth turns to him and offers her hand. She seems so tall in the tiny cabin. She is only a couple of inches shorter than Damon himself. Damon takes her hand, politely and kisses her knuckles in greeting.

"So, you're Lyr's new Master?" Opeth says in Artemian as she takes her hand back. "I must say you're an improvement on the last one." She looks Damon up and down. "In every way."

"You know nothing about me," Damon says, voice hard as rock.

"And yet, I know that. Come, drink with us." Opeth holds out the bottle.

Damon glances at it. His lip curls. "You're drinking pearl tonic. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, I took it from Atticul," Opeth says brightly. "He can spare it."

"I'm sure he would not see it that way," Damon says, but he still takes the bottle she offers. He takes a drink and passes the bottle on to Lyr.

"He is sleeping." Opeth points at the chair she has just vacated, "Please, Sire, sit."

Damon shakes his head. "I'll stand."

He moves across the cabin and takes up a position, beside the narrow cot, leaning against the wall. His head almost reaches the wooden ceiling. Opeth nods and sits back down. She takes the bottle from Lyr and stretches her eyes wide. Then turns and speaks to Damon, "So you will be sharing that cot with this beauty tonight. You will enjoy that I am sure. There is no mouth as sweet in all of Jur-Mattan."

Lyr feels himself blush.

Damon shifts against the cabin wall. "I do not lie with men or slaves," he says.

Opeth shrugs. "Then stand."

Damon stares at her. "I will do no such thing."

"Why ever not? Master Damon, please forgive me if this is impudent. I know such things are a sin in Azuria, but I've been reading men's desires a long, long time. It has saved my life. Do you really think you can convince either of us that you do not desire this slave?"

"I am Azurian," Damon says bluntly. "In Azuria luxoli is a crime."

"I come from Voluptue, where denying one's true self is wrong," Opeth says. "We are at sail on the Mortingale Sea and closer to Voluptue here than to Azuria. Lyr, why don't you go over there and kneel for this beautiful soldier? Show him how easily he could take pleasure from your sweet mouth."

Lyr glances at Damon. He says nothing. He seems frozen to the spot. Unable to respond. Opeth is like this, Lyr knows. Raised on Voluptue to know desires and to convince people to act on them. Those skills have taken her from life as a slave bought and sold at Pellex docks to the most favoured whore of King Ramel and now, onto this ship bound for Azuria and the great city of Attar, in the bed of a future emperor.

Lyr takes a breath. He sees no reason not to obey Opeth. He wants to. He stands and walks over to Damon. He slides onto his knees before him. He looks up. He bites his lip. He's giddy on pearl tonic and he knows his desire is painted on his face. He can't hide it .

In his leather breeches Damon's cock stirs. Lyr can see the shape of it. It would be so easy to open those breeches right now, to take Damon in his mouth. He doesn't think Damon would do a thing to stop him.

But he waits.

The moment stretches. Lyr can see Damon's heavy breaths through parted lips, the sweat on his brow.

"Shall I leave you?" says Opeth, standing from the table with a smile on her face.

"It is a crime," Damon says. His voice is thick with his growing arousal.

"Some crimes are justified, Sire," Opeth says softly. "Farewell."

She walks to the door, barely a distance in the tiny cabin, opens it and leaves, gliding away in an elegant swirl of pale fabric.

Damon looks down at Lyr on his knees.

Quietly Lyr says, "Do you want me to, Master?"

Again the moment seems to stretch forever.

It's as if he can see a different answer, can see it almost be the one Damon gives, before Damon says, instead, "No. Get up."

And it's over. It's all gone. Done. Lyr scrambles to his feet.

Damon swallows. "I'm going to sleep up on deck and that woman, that whore, she isn't to come to this cabin again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. Master, I'm sorry, Opeth likes to play games. She is good at getting people to do what she wants."

"She is that," Damon says. "Stay here while I'm gone. Don't wander off. This ship is full of men who do not care for the likes of you."