Jonos & the Whore Queen Ch. 02

Finally, here you have the long awaited Chapter two of the Jonos storyline, although this will be more of Celise than Jonos. This has been one of the more difficult things to write and has taken me down roads I've not traveled often. I very much look forward to hearing your reaction.

It's long (the longest story I've ever posted here), so get comfortable and enjoy!

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So it came to pass that Jonos, son of King Janish and Queen Celise, usurped the crown, slaying his father and making his mother his own woman, proclaiming her his Whore Queen of Agosta. Many supported the mighty warrior's claim due to his father's evil ways, but others, feeling threatened by the righteous anger of Jonos over the sins of his father and his cronies would ally themselves with Kallas, the brother of the slain king.

Jonos marched the Imperial armies of Agosta to wage war on Kallas, whose wickedness was perhaps even greater than that of his brother. Thrice did Jonos come to the field of battle against Kallas, but treachery was afoot and Kallas always knew his plans -- yet Jonos always drove Kallas from the field, but could not pursue due to the losses borne of vile betrayal. Finally, Kallas withdrew to the great mountain fortress called Bloodgate upon whose granite walls; armies since the beginning of time have destroyed themselves.

So it came to pass that here would the Whore Queen prove her love to her son and lover beyond all doubt and here where the final contest between Jonos the Usurper and his uncle would came to pass. Gather to me and listen for these were the days of true heroes and this is but one tale of many...

Kallas, self proclaimed King of Agosta sits brooding on his throne, the shadows creeping across the great throne room as the sun slowly sinks behind the jagged spires of the western range of the Iron Shard mountains, his mood darkening as gloom takes the room. The news this day has been troubling at best. Seemingly, all news has been troubling since word had reached him five months ago that his agent's mission to slay his nephew, the usurper Jonos, failed in Atria.

Now word of Jonos's army approaching had come, led by Nasser, that upstart officer who began life as the son of goat-herders. Kallas mutters to himself, more guttural growls than actual words as he again seethes with anger that a commoner-born has been sent to arrest him.

"Hah!" Kallas barks. "His army will die upon the walls of the Bloodgate as has every army ever to approach this fortress." The older man actually trembles, his lank, gray hair falling to cover his troubled visage.

"My liege," says a soft voice at his side. "To whom are you talking?" Kallas glances at his wife and consort -- his Queen Nesharina. Her cobalt blue eyes stare back at him, brilliant against her pale, almost pure white skin and framed by the long, coal black hair that betrays her Nedalian heritage. She is like a beautiful corpse, preserved and animated. Her face is alight with hatred and wickedness, reflecting the black thing deep within her that passes for her soul.

"No one, dearest," he replies. "I grow weary of waiting for that whelp of a nephew to come and confront me so I can end this mockery of his 'kingship.' I want to see his head on the spikes upon the walls of Bloodgate."

Nesharina smiles, an expression that would chill the blood of most mortals should they be so unfortunate as to view it, and she rises from her throne chair and crosses over to her husband, moving slowly as she comes to lay her hand on his arm.

Her body moves with an almost serpentine grace, her gown is immodest but still covers her, hinting more at her smallish breasts and shapely legs than revealing them. "Be patient, my love. My father will soon be marshalling the legions of Nedal and come to your aid and Jonos and his ilk will be caught between the anvil of the Bloodgate and the hammer of the Obsidian Legions. Agosta shall be yours, my love." Her nails dig into Kallas's arm as she shivers with excitement at the thought of so much blood soon to flow.

Her arousal makes things stir in the shadows of the darkening throne room and she pauses to settle them down before continuing. "And remember, my love, we will soon have a guest that will drive Jonos to such anguish as the fool never dreamed existed." She starts to continue, but a commotion erupts from beyond the great hall and Nesharina takes a few steps down off the dais and then turns to her husband and says. "My King, I believe our guest has arrived.

There is a trumpeting of great horns and then as guards push open the huge doors -- twenty feet tall and twelve feet wide, Kallas's chamberlain scurries in and say, "King Kallas, the giants...the giants have come!" He speaks with uneasy glee in his voice. "My liege, they were successful!"

Kallas smiles evilly at this and then turns and nods to a soldier standing nearby who quickly bows and hurries from the room via a hidden door behind the throne. Kallas sits up straighter in his throne and says shrilly, "Bid them enter and deliver to me my prize!"

Scarcely does he utter the words when pushing through the great doors comes five huge creatures -- their skin a burnished and worn amber as if they'd spent centuries standing against harsh mountain winds which has bleached out the long, stringy and colorless hair hanging down past their shoulders. The smallest of them stands almost twelve feet high and the greatest of them is over fifteen feet in height and forced to duck beneath the archway of the great doors. All are dressed in stitched together animal skins, forming crude jerkins that hang to their knees. On their backs are cruel axes that could cleave men in two with one strike and stained with blood which prove that they have done exactly that.

The biggest giant steps forward, dragging a naked human woman with him. "King Kallas, we have come and we claim our bounty!" He shoves the woman towards the throne, the force of his action causing her to stumble and fall hard to her knees.

King Kallas rises from his throne, eyes ablaze with eagerness as he peers down at the woman, naked and filthy, her body and hair gummy and crusted with some whitish substance. The woman raises her head, brilliant green eyes blazing with anger and with one defiant whip of her head, throws her black hair away from her face and says calmly, "Kallas - Jonos would kill you slowly for this."

Kallas claps his hands together like a child given a new toy and replies, "Ah, Celise! So happy are we to see the widow of our late, murdered brother!" He gestures and two guards emerge from the shadows and jerk her to her feet.

Queen Celise jerks away from their grasp and takes a step forward, fists clenched and preparing to swing. Kallas steps back, suddenly uncertain in the fierce heat of the true queen's ire, his hands jerking upwards to fumble at the talisman hanging from his neck. "Your magics will not avail you here, Celise."

Celise's eyes narrow and she recognizes the talisman as similar to one she had encountered just a few months before. She smirks and then gazes around the room until she spies Nesharina still standing by her husband's throne. "Yes, I recognize your wife's baubles. Poorly made, my dear, but if one doesn't mind the costs, its good to have a hobby of sorts. How many years have you sacrificed, Nesharina? You still look well...for your age."

Nesharina's face twists into a snarl as she replies, "You would do well to hold your tongue, Whore Queen, lest I cut it from your mouth. Pray we have mercy on you and merely sell you to a whorehouse after your son is put to the sword.

The giant snorts and says, "Enough...argue later. King Kallas, we would be paid our bounty and return home. We have been long enough from the heights of the Iron Shards."

Kallas scowls up at the giant and replies, "Mind your tone, Garlchrissh. Remember who commands here."

The giant shrugs his shoulders. "We have done as you asked and brought you the usurper's woman, alive and unmarked. Give us our gold and we will leave."

Nesharina steps down from the dais and studies Celise closely. She leans in, mindful of Celise's reach and sniffs the beautiful woman's body. She turns and grins up at the giant. "Alive and unmarked, indeed, but perhaps a little used!" Turning back to Celise, she sneers, "Whore Queen indeed."

The giant ignores Nesharina and glares down at Kallas. "We would be paid now, King Kallas!" he says, his brow becoming stormy.

"Yes, yes. Let us be done with it!" He snaps his fingers and then retreats to the dais, motioning his wife to follow. An armored soldier brings forth a small wooden chest and places it before Garlchrissh.

The giant frowns and kneeling down, opens the chest, thick, stubby fingers running through the gold coins within. He stares angrily at Kallas and says in a growl, "This is perhaps a thousand gold! The agreement was five thousand if we brought you the Whore Queen alive!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Kallas replies, "Yes, the agreement was for five thousand gold marks. I have decided to change it. Take it or leave it, but now I grow tired of your presence -- choose and be gone."

Garlchrissh takes a step towards the throne and says "You break your oath, Kal..." his voice trails away as he hears a hundred men shift their feet above them. He looks up to see a balcony that runs the entire length of the throne room, filled with men, all aiming crossbows at him and his comrades.

"Yes, Garlchrissh. I changed our, um -- arrangement. You may take the gold and go in peace or accept alternative payment -- twenty bolts apiece, no doubt tipped with one of my queen's more inventive poisons." Kallas smiles wryly at the giant, his voice growing harsher as he continues. "Choose your fate now, mountain giant."

Celise turns to study the giant, his visage a storm of emotions as he struggles between choosing life or honor. Ignoring the guards around her, she closes with the giant. "Garlchrissh," she says softly. "Take the gold and leave knowing you acted honorably -- to this would be king and to me. I bear you no ill will for your role in these affairs and would be happier knowing you roam the Iron Shards, free and alive. Go and find a strong giantess and make babies with her."

The giant looks down at her, a curious look on his face. Celise smiles up at him even as her hand strokes his gnarled and muscled thigh and then slides upward under his jerkin where she begins making a slow pumping motion. Garlchrissh's scowl smoothes out into a blissful grin and he nods and replies, "As Queen Celise commands." One rough hand reaches down to pick up the chest while the other strokes Celise's face. As a rough hewn finger crosses her lips, she smiles and licks the large digit.

Garlchrissh steps back to his comrades who all are glowering at Kallas who is staring slack jawed at Celise's open display of carnal affection. "The Iron Giants will long remember the deeds of Kallas," he states in a flat, emotionless voice and then he turns and leads his comrades out.

When the doors thunder closed, Celise turns and regards the couple sitting on the throne. "That was ill-done, Kallas. When any king, even a pretender to the throne betrays his allies, he will not sit long on his throne." Celise draws herself up tall and then shakes her head in disapproval. "Don't get too comfortable, Kallas -- my son and lover will soon arrive to claim me back and return what you have stolen from him and Agosta."

Kallas barks laughter back at her. "Oh, he can have you back, my dear. When he arrives, I will happily hand his Whore Queen back." He pauses and licks his lips in anticipation. "At least, he can have what is left of you when you have finished...ah, experiencing our courtesy."

Celise's face visibly pales as she recalls her former husband, Janish's eager descriptions of his brother's 'courtesies.'

An evil giggle escapes Nesharina's lips before she hisses, "Remember, my king, you promised that I could spend some time with my dear former sister in law before you have your fun." Her slender body shivers again as she adds, "I have long dreamed of this moment."

"Absolutely, my dear!" comes Kallas's reply. "I would never deny you your own pleasures, but remember I want her alive and able to...enjoy what I have prepared for her."

Nesharina wrinkles her nose and says, "Let us give her a bath first. I don't actually mind her smelling like a rutting whore, but I prefer it be my doing." She claps her hands and commands, "Take her to my quarters -- have my ladies in waiting bathe the Whore Queen and make her more presentable."

There is rustling in the shadows of the room and from its darkest corners emerge what Celise at first assumes are the Queen's men, but as they near, she lets out a slow gasp as she realizes that their pallid color and almost machine like motion betrays their true nature. Zombies -- undead under the control of Nesharina. In their state somewhere between life and death, they are garbed in little more than loin clothes, their skin not rotting, but reeking of wrongness, their restrained malice evident in their unblinking, black eyes. They approach as Kallas's guards ease back and take her by the arms, the touch of their flesh cold and unyielding, making her shiver as they guide her away.

As she is guided into the depths of the great, granite fortress, Celise can hear Nesharina's ill laughter echoing after her -- following her as if seeking to taunt her. The Whore Queen does not seek to engage the fell creatures in conversation or to seek to flee. Instead, she focuses on memorizing her path -- trying to remember every nook and cranny of the ancient bastion of cruel rock.

So it was that Celise, mother and wife of Jonos found herself sinking gratefully into the hot, soapy water of a huge, pool-sized marble bathtub within Nesharina's quarters. Slave girls slipped into the waters with her and began scrubbing her weary body and washing her crusty, filthy hair. Between her legs, fires were rekindled as the experienced young women caressed and comforted her, their faces a mixture of eagerness and fear, anxious to please the beautiful woman. Celise drifted with their sweet and gentle touch, almost falling asleep as her mind worked backwards, reliving the last several days...

#

The Queen awakes to the sounds of battle -- of men screaming and metal weapons clashing. Clamors of "Awake -- To Battle, To Arms" erupt as do animalistic howls that cause the tiny hairs on her arms to rise. A terrified horse gives a horrific, frightened neigh as it brushes her tent, making the poles shake and wobble.

Naked, Celise comes to her feet and leaves the tent, gasping as she beheld the carnage before her. The soldiers of her escort do battle with giants -- savage mountain giants who wade amongst the Agostan guards, gleefully spreading mayhem and death as they swing battle axes as big as a man.

A soldier, grown barely to manhood, stumbles up to the tent, horrified to see her. "My Queen, we are betrayed! Flee -- flee while you still can." He holds a bastard sword in one hand and the other is pressed against a gaping wound in his side. Celise recognizes him as Quint -- the youngest of the Queen's escort to her father's kingdom, Elysium. A sweet boy who'd just had her three nights ago -- taking his turn amongst the Queen's Guard in sharing her bed for a night of splendid fucking.

Out of the shadows looms a monstrous figure. A mountain giant, face and body smeared with blood that with a savage laugh swings at Quint. The soldier deflects the strike, but is sent flying when the giant follows with a savage kick. Quint lands with a breathless thud in the brush near the tent.

The giant spins and begins to close with the Queen who stands her ground. Celise raises her arms and traces arcane sigils in the air as she whispers, "Inferium." Gouts of bluish flame leap from her fingertips and strike the giant, enveloping him a swath of fire. He screams and staggers off -- hands trying vainly to rake the flames away as it begins to incinerate his flesh.

Queen Celise rushes to Quint's side. He coughs up blood as he gasps, "My Queen...p-please, flee now before it's -- it's too late." He glances at the battle, giants now encircling the surviving soldiers. "They can't hold out much longer!" Tears of pain and frustration run down his face and though it causes him pain, he reaches out and clutches Celise's arm. "Please, my Queen, flee now!"

Celise has followed his glance at the battle. Of the fifty soldiers of her escort, she guesses maybe half are still alive with more dying each passing moment. She shakes her head and says, "No -- I will not, but the King must be warned!" She presses a hand against Quint's wound and concentrates, feeling arcane power flow through her fingers as she surrenders a bit of her own life force. Immediately, the young man's wound begins to close and his breathing becomes easier.

As a wave of dizziness begins to sweep over her, the Queen withdraws. After a deep breath, she whispers, "Soldier Quint, sworn to my command -- flee and seek out King Jonos and tell him what has befallen." She pulls the soldier to his feet, pressing her fingers against his protesting lips and then pushes him into the brush. "Do this and all may yet turn out well." Then without a backward glance, she turns and strides towards the battle.

Giants and soldiers alike pause in amazement as the naked and luscious woman strides into the middle of the carnage. One giant seems to be directing the monstrous creatures and she approaches him without fear. He licks his lips as he watches her stride forth -- her large and magnificent breasts bouncing as she walks -- her hair, tousled from sleep giving her the appearance of something beautiful and feral. In the firelight, he sees the glistening of this night's lover's seed on her inner thighs.

Celise stops before him, unafraid and bold and putting her hands on her hips says in a voice used to command, "Giant, I am Celise DeKarthus, mother and wife of King Jonos, daughter of Pharaoh Khanthus XVII. I offer my surrender if you would spare the lives of my men."

He pauses and considers her, a broken tooth smile appearing on his chiseled face. "You are ours anyway, Whore Queen -- why should I let them live?"

"I would know what you are called, Giant, so we may treat as equals."

He barks a cruel laugh -- one echoed by the other giants while the Agostan men look on with shame and horror. One takes a step towards Celise and the mountain giant, defiantly raising his sword in protest. "My queen -- no! We would rather die than live with the shame..." His words trail off as the futileness of their situation truly sinks in.

The giant ignores him, knowing the battle is won already and replies to Queen Celise, "I am Garlchrissh, Jarl of the Iron Giants, Queen Celise. Again, you are my prisoner already. Why should I let these puny ones live?"

"The victory is yours, Garlchrissh, but live slaves sold in the Nedalian markets are worth more than rotting bodies on the battlefield and if you agree, I will go with you peaceably."

The giant nods almost absently. "And if I don't agree?"

Celise draws herself up, breasts rising tautly, as her body seems to ripple with eldritch power and there is death laced in her voice as she says, "Then we die and you return home all the poorer to face grieving widows and children."

The other giants gawp at their leader, wondering how he will respond to be spoken to in such imperious tones. He studies Celise in silence for long second, only the cries of the dying breaking through the sudden quiet. Then a broken toothed grin splits open his face and he barks a guttural laugh and bows before the queen.

"We have a bargain, Whore Queen."

He turns and speaks to the other giants in his ancient, crude language while Celise sighs and nods to her soldiers, motioning with her hand to drop their weapons. One steps forward -- she recognizes him as Lieutenant Fabre, her escort's second in command. Intuitively she understands that Captain Billow is dead and now he is ranking office. "My lady..." He falters, but then finds the courage to say, "My Queen -- we would rather fight to the death than bear this disgrace -- please, let us..."