The Queen of Sambia

"Of course it is," he said. "I could smell it ten minutes ago. That's how I knew you were coming. Go, go wash, it's only getting colder out here." He escorted her to a calmer spot along the riverbank and watched with his eerie gold eyes, so out of place in an elf's face, as she stripped off her tunic, shivering as her thin undershirt afforded little protection from the cold.

Thanking the gods that she had the presence of mind to remove the wax paper packets of salve before this, she shoved the tunic under the water and swished it around, wishing she could see the water carry the foul stuff away. Lian lifted the dripping tunic from the river, the wool ten times as heavy, and tried to wring the water out.

"I'll freeze to death before I reach the barracks," she said, struggling into the soaked garment anyway.

"Take a hot bath when you get there," Errin said. "The steam vents will dry your clothes. Everyone will be at table, so you won't be disturbed." Something in his gaze bothered her, like he knew more than he should.

"Thank you, King Mar," she said, nodding to him as she turned to go.

"He will find out," Errin called after her, stopping her in her tracks. "You can't keep secrets from Karis Mirrik."

"What secrets," Lian asked, trembling inside as she stepped closer to the vampire. "What will he find out?" Errin leaned close and whispered in her ear.

"That you are naught but a sheep in wolf's clothing. You lack what it takes to be a real man." Lian's heart caught in her throat.

"How did you know?" she whispered.

"I smelled you before you even got off the boat, your smoky woman's perfume. Oh, how I wanted you for my own, but what Mirrik wants, Mirrik gets, as far as I'm concerned. I'm only alive because of him."

"Will you tell him about me?" Lian asked, wondering if she was strong enough to drown him in the river if he said yes.

"No," Errin said with a twisted smile, "so don't worry about trying to kill me. Now get back before you catch pneumonia. Just remember, he will find out."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Errin was right, the village was deserted, every last man trying to find nourishment in a bowl of warm mold. She shivered from head to toe, her teeth chattering, and she could not make it stop. Slipping inside the bathhouse, she leaned against the door, listening for someone hiding in the clouds of steam, but she was alone. The door had no lock, but she moved a heavy bench in front of it, and had to be satisfied with that. She would only be in there a minute, she told herself.

Stripping off her tunic, and the now soaked undershirt, she hung them on racks above the steam vents, the blistering hot air rising up from the very bowels of the planet. A scratched and pitted sheet of metal hung on one wall, her reflection a warped and silvered thing, but the feeble candle light cast her skinny body in a harsh light of sharp angles and deep shadows. All her ribs showed and deep hollows beneath her neck held the darkness, but her chest was flat as any man's, a credit to the power of that horrid burning salve.

Lian slipped out of her stiff trousers and thick woolen hose, piling them on a bench near the shower area, and cast one last look at the door before removing her underwear. Feeling very vulnerable, she stepped into the shower, the rough slate tiles wet and warm beneath her frozen feet. This shower was big enough for a dozen men, with six shower heads pointing toward the center, but Lian needed only one. Hanging her towel on the hook beside the faucet, she let the almost scalding water warm her frozen body. It felt so good, she lost track of time, forgetting the hordes of men who could be leaving the hall at any time.

A noise behind her snapped her out of oblivious rapture. She tried not to panic, telling herself that whoever it was would see a man if she did not turn around. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a figure, completely naked, through the thick clouds of steam. If she couldn't tell who it was, maybe neither could he.

"Who's there?" she asked gruffly, going through the motions of washing. The man behind her didn't answer. Trying to look casual, she reached up to turn off the water and grab her towel.

"Don't," he ordered. The voice sent chills through her and she froze, then let her arms fall to her sides.

"Mirrik," she whispered. He came up behind her, his hands clasping her shoulders. For once, he wasn't wearing the gloves. She didn't move, hardly daring to breathe as his rough hands slid down her arms, stopping above her elbows. She cringed as he stepped closer, his hands brushing her sides as they moved under her arms to encircle her like a snake.

Lian closed her eyes, her body going rigid as he pressed against her. His hands explored her chest, her tiny nipples tingling as he rubbed over them, the sensitive flesh hardening beneath his touch. A tiny whimper escaped her lips as he lowered his head to her shoulder, his teeth scraping across her skin. No lurid, lustful kisses he bestowed upon her, just bites that bordered on pain.

"Sweet," he growled into the hollow of her neck, then bit and nipped his way up to her ear. His hands slid down her wet stomach, fanning out to caress her hips, then turning in to tug at her curly hairs. A solitary tear slipped down her cheek as she tried not to imagine what he would do to her once he found out the truth. "Such a sweet boy," he whispered in her ear as he moved to take her cock in his hand.

When he found nothing, Mirrik pulled back, stepping away from her. Lian grabbed her towel, trying to wrap it around her waist, but Mirrik spun her around and snatched it away. The towel fell to the floor as he pulled her to him and forced one hand between her legs, running a finger the length of her slit before driving it up inside. She turned her face away, but refused to scream or do anything else that might excite him.

Mirrik let go and she fell backward against the wall, catching herself on the water pipes. The king stared at her a moment, his scarred face for once showing the semblance of emotion, but it was no emotion she could read, then he turned and disappeared into the mist. When he didn't return, Lian let herself sink to the floor, her knees pulled up in front of her. She covered her face with her hands and wept.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Mirrik didn't tell anyone. At least, the men didn't try to gang rape her at breakfast. After a sleepless night of wondering if she should run and knowing she had no where to run to, Lian almost couldn't bring herself to appear in the hall. When she did, Mirrik watched her the entire time. It wasn't her turn to serve him, thank the gods, but everywhere she went, she could feel his eyes upon her.

It went on like this for two months. When it was her turn to serve the king, he did nothing more than watch. The other harem boys noticed this, along with the fact that Mirrik did not again call her into his chamber. One day, Barribi took her aside and asked what she did to make the king treat her so strangely.

"I honestly don't know," she replied. Indeed, she had expected a much different reaction.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The days on Sambia grew longer, the weather warmer, and migrating birds returned to the island's rocky cliffs, providing much needed meat for the tables. Disgusted with the haphazard furrows in the fields and not wanting to suffer another winter as the last one, Lian put her knowledge of farming to good use, showing the plow chief how to make straight lines and suggesting irrigation ditches to run from the river so fewer crops would die in the summer heat.

At first, the men were skeptical of a slight boy with a girlish face, but her advice proved sound and most were soon eager to hear any new idea she might have. Of course, most is not everyone. Nechar, for whatever reason, hated her. He missed no chance to insult her, his favorite slur being the king's fuck-boy. She did her best to ignore him.

One sultry afternoon in late spring, Lian slipped out of the village and hiked upstream along the river, searching for a deep, clear pool. She had not dared to return to the bathhouse after that night, and sponge baths did only so much. She needed to swim, she needed that freedom, if only for a few minutes. Several miles above the village she found a wonderful swimming hole, secluded by high rocks on three sides and thick forest on the other.

The water prickled along her skin and made her shiver with delight. She scrubbed the grime and grit off her body and out of her hair, which needed to be cut again. She was starting to look like a girl. After a few clumsy strokes, Lian slipped into the easy over arm crawl she learned as a child and arrowed across the pool. Lack of practice left her out of breath, so she hung onto the craggy rock wall with one hand and kicked her legs lazily as she admired the view from this side of the water.

Rocks hugged the water's edge like loving arms, the dark green of the forest hanging over the water where they didn't meet. Lilies and irises crowded the eastern end, the rocks low and scattered to let the sun shine in. She smiled at the beauty of it, but her smile froze at the sight of the cloaked figure standing on a rise of stone. Her hand slipped off the wall and she went under, water filling her mouth and nose. Lian came up coughing and sputtering, one hand groping for the rocks while she tried to dash the water from her eyes.

The rocks were empty when she looked, and the peaceful pond took on a dark and foreboding air. Stroking carefully toward shore, she cast about for a sign of him, but the king in the blue cloak had disappeared. Lian stood with the water above her waist, searching the trees for a flicker of movement, listening for a hint of a footstep, the whisper of a breath, but the forest was still and silent.

Unable to shake the unease, Lian covered herself with her hands and hurried to the three limb her clothes were draped over. Throwing on her tunic to cover her nakedness, she struggled into her underwear and hose, looking over her shoulder ever few seconds. Why was it so damn quiet? she wondered, suddenly noting the absence of birdsong. She grabbed her trousers and glanced back in time to see something swing into her face.

Pain flooding her senses, Lian fell forward, slamming her chin into the tree. Ears ringing, she crumpled to the ground, a thick fog enveloping her head. Someone was dragging her by her feet, away from the water and into the trees. Her stomach lurched like she might throw up, but she clawed at the loose earth, not sure of anything but the fact that she didn't want to go wherever she was being taken.

"Your majesty, please," she whimpered as the fog lifted and she remembered the man on the rocks. He dropped her ankles and she tried to scramble away, but he caught her by her tunic and pulled her back, his hands finding the top of her hose.

"Your majesty?" asked a mocking voice. "The king's fuck-boy to the last, eh?" Lian looked over her shoulder at Nechar's leering face, the thin silver scar on his cheek pulling as he grinned at her. He started to pull her leggings down, but she thrashed and kicked, throwing handfuls of dirt back at him. She dared not scream, for around here, help would probably be on his side.

Snarling, Nechar wrestled with her, grabbing a handful of her hair and then punching her in the face until she stopped fighting. Dirt became mud as the blood ran down her face and she spit out the gritty, metallic stuff, but could do nothing else as he flipped her over onto her back and stripped her hose off.

"What the fuck is this?" she heard him exclaim, his callused hands parting her legs and probing inside her. Even Mirrik had been more gentle. The dancing snatches of sky showing between the leafy branches above were painted pink as blood ran into her eyes. Nechar began to laugh, a cold, ugly sound that made her want to die. "You know how long it's been since I ate a little girl?" he asked, making her blood run cold. "Fucking forever." She felt his breath on the inside of her thigh, then he let go with a strangled yell.

Rolling away, Lian looked back at Nechar. Mirrik, his cloak thrown off and his face a mask of calm indifference, stood behind Nechar, his purple handled whip wrapped around the other man's throat, choking the life out of him. Lian pulled her hose up, watching Nechar's face change color and his eyes hemorrhage. Once his hands hung limp at his sides, Mirrik let him go, and Nechar fell face first into the dirt.

Lian tried to get up as Mirrik came toward her, but the edges of her world were going dark and fuzzy. The king coiled his whip and began removing his sharkskin gloves, those simple movements filling Lian with a dark, cold terror.

"Please," she begged, her words slurred through swollen lips, "please, if you have any mercy, kill me." Then everything went dark and silent.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Lian woke in a dark room, the only light coming from a bed of coals in the fireplace. She was wrapped in something warm and lying on a soft bed. Trying not to move, she looked around, searching for Mirrik.

"He's outside," came a soft voice, so near it made her jump. Seated right beside her, so still she hadn't even noticed him, sat Errin Mar.

"What am I doing here?" she asked, sitting up to get away from him. Her head felt light, but the ache she expected in her face was not there. She touched her lips, her cheek, her jaw, and found only mild swelling.

"There's some bruising," Errin said, his eyes glowing like enchanted amber in the firelight. "I couldn't do anything about that, but there won't be any scarring. He was explicit that there be no scars."

"Who?"

"King Mirrik, of course. He brought you here." Errin went to the fire and threw some wood on, sending sparks flying up the chimney. The warm yellow light filled the room as he came back, taking a seat beside her on the bed. Lian wanted to move away, but knew it was not smart to offend a vampire. "I told you he would find out," Errin said.

"But he didn't do anything to me," Lian said softly. "He's just stared at me all these months. Why? What happened to him?" Errin shrugged and watched her with the lazy eyes of a hunting cat.

"How would I know?" he said. "Mirrik doesn't tell me any more than he tells you."

"Don't give me that crap," Lian said, then hastily added, "your majesty." Errin's expression never changed, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile in his eyes. "It took me a long time to think back on that night above the waterfall, but when I did, I realized you were responding to thoughts I never voiced. You're a mind reader."

"Very good, little girl," Errin said. "Most of my subjects never figure that out. Of course, those that do I usually kill." Lian's eyes flickered from his face to the door, but realized running would be useless, and the smile on Errin's face told her that he knew it, too. "But I can see you're one who's good a keeping secrets, and as long as you are, so shall I be." Lian didn't like it, but she nodded silently.

"Good," Errin said, relaxing the predatory attitude. "Now, about Mirrik." He let out a long sigh. "Karis Mirrik was thirteen when he was sent here. His king was an evil and sadistic man who kept Mirrik as a pet and tortured him daily for three years. He was the toy of all of the king's favored subjects. I think it should have killed him, and a lesser man would have given up and died, but Mirrik had a strong need for vengeance, and it kept him alive until his chance came."

"He killed the king?" Lian asked. Errin nodded.

"He killed everyone who ever hurt him," the vampire said. "He won't stand to see anyone hurt as he was."

"But the things he makes us do--"

"But he doesn't hurt you, and he doesn't let anyone else hurt you. His subjects are lucky in that respect." Errin stroked his chin in thought. "As to why he hasn't done anything to you, I really can't say. There are many things a man can do with a woman that don't hurt." Lian looked away.

"Not when the woman has never been with a man before," she whispered.

"Ah, a virgin beauty," Errin sighed. "Now I am doubly sorry I couldn't have you. I guess a taste of your blood shall have to do." Lian's mouth went dry and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "Your king has agreed, as much as you loath the thought. As my blood healed you, your blood shall feed me." Lian was familiar with the vampire's law concerning healing mortals, but she hadn't realized it applied on Sambia. "Where the vampire goes, so goes the law," Errin said with a smile.

Fighting her disgust, Lian let him reach for her, and he slipped the blanket off one shoulder. Her tunic was gone, and now she saw it hanging by the fire, along with her undershirt and trousers. The cool air raced over her bare skin, making her shiver. Errin kissed her shoulder, his gentle touch no less violating than Mirrik's rough hands. The vampire kissed and sucked her flesh, moving up to the hollow of her neck, where his fangs tickled and grazed before he slipped them into her throat.

The pain was tolerable, but her body's reaction was not. Lian's breath quickened, he heart pounding as her skin flushed. Her nipples hardened and a tingling heat spread through her loins. She shuddered as a low moan escaped her lips and the wetness between her legs perfumed the air.

Errin licked and sucked her neck, then pulled back, out of breath and flushed as well. He almost looked alive. Lian touched the spot on her neck where he bit her, but found no wound or mark at all. Feeling slightly queasy, she left the blanket and went to her clothes, putting them on almost mechanically.

"Not as bad as you thought, eh?" Errin said, reclining on the bed to watch her.

"That was disgusting," she said as politely as possible. "And I am disgusted with myself." She concentrated on tying her bootlaces, then straightened up, her composure restored. "Thank you for your help, your majesty," she said, heading for the door.

"I would help you if I could," Errin said, his voice low and gentle. "I know how to take a woman without pain, but Mirrik would kill me if I did." Lian swallowed hard and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes.

"I'm so very afraid of him," she whispered, feeling her hands begin to shake.

"Mirrik was a street brat by the age of five," Errin said. "He's never been loved by a woman, or by anyone. He doesn't know what love is. All he wants is control and power, because he's afraid to be helpless. Be careful, little girl."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Mirrik led her out of Errin's village and along the cliff top to the river. Not a word was spoken between them. Lian watched him with wary eyes, trying to find a moment when she might push him off the cliff, but he kept her between him and the edge. At the river, he walked behind her, making her very nervous.

About a mile from the village, she could take it no longer. Spinning about, she tried to shove Mirrik into the river, but he stepped aside, grabbing her arms and using her own momentum to throw her into the water. He held her under for a moment, then hauled her out and threw her down on the riverbank. She looked up at him, her heart pounding as she shook the water out of her eyes.

"Don't," was all he said before jerking her to her feet and shoving her toward the village. The deep spring night was still cold, and Lian shivered in her wet clothes by the time the first golden lit windows came into view. Through the center of the village Mirrik took her, and when she tried to head for her own barracks house, he grabbed her by the arm and pushed her toward the stone hall.

Lian's heart sank into her stomach as her feet clomped up the wooden steps and through the empty hall. The sight of Mirrik's chamber door waiting at the end of the hall sent her into a panic. She tried to run, but he seized her by the back of the tunic and hurried her forward, letting go only when they were inside.