The Rivals Ch. 05: Orgy of Death

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That was Sligh! Avilia's body was almost trembling as she followed Nemez down the corridor. Her mind raced as she fought to keep her face straight. Why was I surprised to see him? Of course he'd be sneaking around in the shadows. What was most surprising, though, was that she'd wanted to grab him, kiss him, feel his body pressed against hers. But I put distance between us! Why do I feel like this?

The obvious answer was one that she didn't want to think about. Avilia felt her fist clench tighter around her spear.

Nemez was still striding ahead of her. His legs were hidden by his long gown, but she'd seen them earlier. Spindly. His arse was flat too. Whatever effort and magic had gone into giving him such a perfect face had clearly not extended to below the waist.

Two servants hurried out to meet him as he approached a pair of large doors. Avilia gave them a casual look. The Prince had scores of servants, but she recognised these two.

Nemez, in his transparent role of a man of the people, greeted them with false joviality. The older servant gave a smile that did nothing to conceal his pleasure. The younger man simply blushed.

Avilia tuned out their conversation and turned her attention to her surroundings. Nemez's apartments were situated in a remote wing of the Palace complex. Even so, just out in this open-sided corridor she saw enough silver and even gold decorations to fill a decent purse.

Sligh would probably be more interested in the reliefs and carvings, she thought. They were beautiful, she admitted to herself. It's just as well he isn't here. I'd probably be getting a lecture about who carved them, and when, and who they had to suck to get the job.

She became aware that Nemez had turned back to her. "Your Grace?"

"I'll be staying in my quarters for the evening," he replied. "I'll be safe here."

The doors had opened, and in the wide entrance hall beyond them she saw servants and guards scurrying back and forth. She was about to protest when she felt someone approach from behind, and she whirled, spear at the ready.

It was Nemez's big servant Djo. Despite his bulk, he was huffing and sweating, straining to carry the large box in his hands. As he walked past Avilia through the door, she noticed that it was marked with a strange symbol.

"It is alright, darling. It is just Djo. By the Skies, you look ferocious!" The words sounded strange, coming from Nemez instead of Sligh. "I feel so much safer with you around."

He looked after the man. "A little surprise for my half-sister and her children. I am having a get-together tonight to mend some bridges. Just family, some friends. The Electors." There was a hungry look in his eyes -- hungry, and something else. "Go and get some rest. But be back at midnight." His eyes wandered over her again in that possessive manner. "I think you will enjoy the surprise as much as everyone else."

She turned away. Where have I seen that symbol before? For some reason it put her in mind of Sligh. But then again, most things seem to do that now. Either way, it was time to find him. Placing her spear in a rack by the door, she strode off in search of the scholar.

She found him only moments later. Turning the corner a score of strides from the entrance to Nemez's apartments she collided into a lean figure dressed in subdued colours.

They almost fell, clutching at each other with their free hands. Even before her eyes recognised him her nose had registered the scent of his body. "Sligh!" she hissed.

Grasping him by the elbow she dragged him away from the corner. By the time they were out of sight of the doors Sligh had recovered too. They stood staring at each other in the empty corridor for a moment.

"So you're--" she began just as he spoke too.

"Skies, it's good--" He cut off, and began again. "I'm glad you haven't been captured trying to complete the job without me." For a moment it seemed that he was angry with her, but then he added, "Nice outfit, by the way. Very you."

She glared at him before she saw the smirk in his eyes. "Fuck off. This isn't my choice. I can barely move my arms in it." She raised and lowered her elbows to demonstrate. "I see that you finally dragged yourself over here. Who did you rob for that expensive getup?"

The clothes Sligh was wearing were clearly of the finest quality. Despite the subdued colours, she could tell they were expertly made and the material was expensive. Gold gleamed dully at cuffs and collar, and a strand of what appeared to be black diamonds hung over his doublet.

"I found a tailor and told him to make me the opposite of Nemez. That man has a high opinion of himself, doesn't he?"

Avilia rolled her eyes. "You have no idea." Suddenly she couldn't wait to tell Sligh about everything that had happened the last two days. It wasn't much, but she wanted to share it nevertheless.

She put her arm through his and began to talk as she led him to a quiet courtyard that was planted with citrus trees. The warm air of early evening was infused with the heavy scent of the first blossoms of spring. Above them birds were socialising, calling out as if they hadn't seen each other in weeks.

They found a broad trunk and sat down with their backs to it. Their hands were almost touching on the soft grass as they stared ahead of themselves.

"So what's the plan?" Avilia asked. "We're both here, and Nemez needs to be dead by dawn."

Sligh was shaking his head. "I'm not sure. I have some escape strategies worked out, but they won't do any good if we have a score of guards on our heels and there are witnesses everywhere." He turned to look at her, a serious look in his eyes. "If it comes to it... If dawn breaks and Nemez isn't dead, promise me you'll call Farflier and get out."

Avilia opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand. The serious look was almost pleading. "Terena said she'd send Zretha to the Arena. The Blood Games. She... Just promise you'll make sure she's safe. Somewhere out on the plains."

Again Avilia was about to protest, but Sligh must have gleaned what she was trying not to think.

"They send rocs to the Blood Games too. Fasten a chain to one leg and send in a handful of prisoners armed with spears and axes."

Avilia felt her stomach lurch. Farflier! He was safe of course, but just the thought of him fighting for his life made her feel as if her heart was clutched in an icy fist.

Grateful that Sligh had stopped short of actually mentioning Farflier, she let her hand find his and squeezed. He glanced at her, a fleeting smile chasing away the glum look on his face.

"I promise," she said softly. "I'll make sure she gets away safely." She grinned. "She's what I like most about you anyway."

His mouth twisted in a smile of his own. "The two of you would make an unstoppable pair."

"For what it's worth," Avilia went on, "there should be some point where Nemez is vulnerable tonight. He thinks he doesn't need me while he's in his apartments. He's even inviting our sorcerous patron and her mother tonight. He asked me too, but I gather that's mostly because he thinks he's going to fuck me. By the way--" she added, but Sligh interrupted.

"The mellix!"

"What?" she asked, but she already knew. That symbol carved onto the box. She'd seen it once before, perhaps a year ago, beneath the ruins of an ancient temple. It had been a warning then, but one so long-forgotten that she and Sligh had blundered right on ahead into the pit of a mellix demon.

A fear-eater. Although, as Sligh had explained at the time, and as they'd both discovered for themselves then and on one other occasion, mellix-demons fed off any kind of emotion. Lust seemed to be a particular favourite.

"He has a mellix," Sligh was saying. "Do you think he's planning an orgy?"

She nodded slowly. "That would seem right up his alley. He mentioned a surprise, a way of mending bridges. Inviting the Electors. And from the look he gave me..." She shuddered. Nemez's eyes had made her feel like she was being licked from head to toe by a snake. A particularly vile snake.

"So that's it," Sligh replied. The relief in his voice was audible. "We let them fuck themselves senseless and wait for the demon to finish them off."

Avilia's heart gave a sudden leap. He might just survive after all! "We'll need to make sure." Shaking her head, she continued, "What kind of idiot surrounds himself with bodyguards, and then invites a demon into his home?"

"You can't protect a fool from himself," Sligh replied with a grin.

III. Orgy of death

Sligh followed the plump servant girl to Princess Terena's apartments. She'd come to find him just as he was leaving Avilia. The sorceress wanted to speak to Sligh.

Amateurs! he thought to himself. Nemez wants a bodyguard, but hosts a demon-fuelled orgy. And Terena wants me to assassinate her uncle, without it being tied to her, and yet she can't keep her distance.

Still, it was convenient. He'd been talking about her with Avilia.

"This Princess," Avilia had asked, "is she a powerful sorceress? Would she be able to overcome the demon?"

He thought carefully before replying. "Powerful, yes." He recalled his shock at encountering her in his hideout, his new shock when she'd materialised before him at the inn. "Able to overcome the demon? Perhaps. She's... young. Untried, unsure."

"Meaning that when she feels that wave of lust rolling over her she's likely to let herself be fucked by the demon's tentacles, instead of killing it?"

"Could be," he mused, remembering how easy it had been to penetrate her disguise, to manipulate her. How quickly she'd been turned on at the sight of his cock. "I'd like to be more certain though."

"What do you suggest?" She leaned towards him, flicking his ear with her tongue. "Should we try to seduce her? See how well she resists?"

He turned his head until their lips were barely touching. "That won't tell us anything. You're much harder to resist than a mellix."

She smiled at that, then they were laughing together, their foreheads pressed against each other.

The servant led him to a pair of wide doors of some black wood, carved with elaborate patterns. His scholar's eye was immediately drawn to the scene depicted: two female warriors shooting arrows at the sun. He paused to study it, thankful for the distraction to stop his cock from swelling at the memory of kissing Avilia.

The girl opened the door slightly and peered inside, then turned to Sligh and motioned him to enter. Deciding that now was as good a time as any to test Terena's temper, he ignored her and continued to examine the carving, tracing his fingers along the woodwork.

He was peering at a section of delicately worked script when the Princess emerged through the door. Without looking at her -- he could sense her anger even so -- he spoke. "This is a magnificent piece. Early Second Empire? I don't think I've seen a depiction of the Twin Queens that's quite so old. Here, look at the names in this inscription."

He glanced round now, still ignoring the anger radiating from the young woman. "Look. The Twin Queens are usually called Xora and Xara, right?" He bent down and pointed to the carving below one of the female figures. "According to this, it should be Xora and Xandra. Or perhaps Xendra, depending on how you interpret--"

"Shut up!" Terena hissed. "Do you never grow tired of your own voice? Come inside before someone sees you here."

He let her drag him through the doors and found himself in a large room opening onto a courtyard. The decoration was austere, but more in the way of someone removing distractions than an attempt at clean, minimalist lines.

Doors leading off the room were carved in the same ancient style as the large entrance to the apartments, but everything else appeared to be deliberately plain. The open arches leading to the courtyard were covered with curtains of a plain white gauze.

Terena's clothes were as severe as her choice of furnishing. A wide black skirt that was split up the middle covered her legs to her ankles. Above it she wore a blouse of green silk, and a waistcoat of some soft black leather. It was a fetching outfit.

She strode up and down while Sligh looked around. The servant appeared with a tray holding a pair of cups. Sligh took them and the servant left.

"Why is Nemez not dead?"

Sligh took another sip, his face straight, and handed her the other cup. "You dragged me here to ask me that? I have until dawn, don't I? Don't worry, it's under control."

She took the cup from him and threw him a suspicious glare. "How? By letting your mercenary fuck him to death?" His shock at her words must have shown on his face, because she smiled smugly. "I have seen her, remember?" She gestured to a silver scrying bowl. "She seems fierce, but it looks like you have her in the palm of your hand. She will do whatever you tell her to."

"A simple soldier," Sligh replied. "Easily flattered with some well-chosen compliments. Not a woman who can hold my interest." He let his eyes suggest that Terena was a woman who could.

The Princess glanced away at that, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "Do not try your flattery on me."

Detecting a trace of hoarseness in her voice, Sligh stepped closer, letting his hand drop to her bare wrist. "No flattery." His fingers glided over the soft skin.

The blush crept up higher and she snatched her hand away, but not before Sligh had felt her pulse race. He smiled warmly and stepped back. "We should revisit this... conversation later. When our business is done. Like you suggested."

"Perhaps." She turned large eyes on him, her perfect lips parted. "But now you must leave. I must start dressing for tonight."

As she moved towards one of the doors leading off the reception room, her hands began to work at the fastenings of her gown, and the glance she tossed over her shoulder at Sligh was decidedly coy.

===

Back at Nemez's apartments, Avilia retrieved her spear and changed out of her confining silk jacket into a looser leather waistcoat over her woollen shirt. She kept the trousers. Sligh had seemed to like them, and they didn't hinder her movement the way the jacket did. Besides, the smooth material felt good on her skin.

Preparations for the evening's entertainment were well underway. Servants were coming and going, carrying low tables and couches to an enclosed garden. Avilia watched from a covered gallery overlooking it all, wondering at the number of people that Nemez allowed to walk around freely. Despite his fears of assassination, he was happy to let anyone enter his apartments and even approach him.

Clearly he felt no concerns here. He wandered around, bare-chested, fondling serving girls and drinking wine. A square, short-legged table was placed at the centre of the garden. Nemez oversaw its positioning himself, and called up to Avilia. "Here is where the surprise will be, my dear. I think you will enjoy it."

Avilia gave a cool smile and said nothing. The table looked about the right size and strength to hold the box Djo had been carrying. The box with the mellix symbol.

Nemez's guests started to arrive a little before midnight. The first to come were the less distinguished guests: a handful of nobles and their partners. Next were the more eminent nobles and the seven Electors, with partners and their own servants. Avilia wondered again how a man so concerned for his life this night could be so foolish as to let so many people into his home.

She was watching from the gallery opposite the doors when Terena's mother arrived with her children in tow. Glowstones set in sconces around the garden cast a steady gleam that illuminated the gathering with a soft golden light.

The late Archduke's only daughter was a stately woman of middle years, with the same artifice-improved features as her daughter but a steadier look in her eyes.

The older Princess was dressed in a sleek green gown that left little to the imagination, clinging to her forms and exposing the olive skin below her breasts, along her thighs, from her shoulders to the top of her crack. She carried it off with a confidence that drew more eyes than the bare flesh.

Terena wore a tight-fitting dress that reached to her ankles. The material shimmered and sparkled -- silk inlaid with tiny gemstones, Avilia thought. She wondered whether she could steal it during the orgy. Sligh might like to see me in that.

The sorceress spotted Avilia and gave her a hard look, but otherwise seemed unconcerned. There was a slight flush to her cheeks though, and Avilia saw her eyes dart around the garden a few times.

Avilia herself was glancing around too. At last, in the gallery across from where she stood, she noticed a shadow that was darker than it should be. Casually she made her way along the corridor.

Sligh was waiting for her by a column. He'd exchanged his rich costume from earlier for serviceable dark wool and his usual tight leather breeches. A pair of heavy daggers were strapped to his waist, together with several pouches.

As she approached, he reached into one of them and pulled something out. He handed it to her, and she saw it was a silver earring. "What's this for?" she asked. "Don't tell me you've decided to spend some of that Margrave wealth to buy me jewellery."

He gave a tight grin. He was nervous, she realised, so nervous that he didn't try to hide it. "It should help against the mellix. A charm to keep you focused."

She held it up to her ear. As soon as it touched her skin, she heard Sligh's voice whisper. "The chants and histories tell of deeds that were done well, of heroes great and wise and the fire in their eyes. Of days when--" Hurriedly she snatched the earring away. "Countering lust with bad poetry. Brilliant solution."

He smiled -- a genuine smile. "The Deed of Orda. A huge First Empire epic that's particularly overblown. A little over a century ago, the poet Den Delion translated it. His version makes it even worse. It should be good for a few hours."

Below them the noise levels were rising. Nemez had provided ample food and drink, and his guests were enjoying both. Avilia watched as Terena's mother made her stately way among the couches and divans, between the men and women standing round. She left a wake of bows and curtsies wherever she went. Terena herself was in deep conversation with a pair of serious-looking ladies, who nodded whenever she emphasised a point with a gesture of her hands.

Nemez was nowhere in sight. His box stood on display at the centre of the garden, though, with Djo and two large guards turning away anyone who ventured too close.

"What's the escape plan?" Avilia asked.

Sligh's gaze was rivetted on the box. "Take the stairs by the entrance. They lead to a tower. Call Farflier and get away." His eyes darted towards her. "Terena has moved Zretha to the Palace stables."

That one sentence told Avilia enough. It was both Sligh's escape plan, and a reminder to Avilia of her promise.

She was about to speak when Nemez strode into the courtyard. He'd changed into a pair of red pantaloons that hid his scrawny legs, and a tight-fitting waistcoat that left his chest and shoulders bare.

He moved to where the box stood on its table, and gestured for silence. As the murmurs around him quietened, he gave a look of immense satisfaction.

"Honoured guests," he proclaimed in a tone that was both dismissive and seductive, "I am pleased that you are here to celebrate the eve of the Election. No matter who is chosen, tonight we are united as one to remember my father, the late Archduke."

The guests raised their glasses in a loud toast, and then Nemez took a large key from the table and called for silence again. "Tonight we celebrate life and love. Enjoy the festivities!"