Bloodstone Ch. 10

"I've come to find you," Nigel said silkily as he stared hungrily at the girl he'd touched so intimately once in the castle of his master. "I've come to bring you back to Magnus and stop this foolishness."

Luria's head was shaking, her wet hair causing the white shirt she'd taken from Balor's wardrobe to turn transparent. She could almost feel his eyes, those beady, nasty eyes, touching on her flesh, admiring her long legs that looked so sensual against the hem of the shirt. "I won't go with you," she said, backing over to where her sword lay upon the chaise where she'd left it.

She lifted it in her hand, her confidence returning once she'd found herself armed. "Leave now and tell your master that the girl he'd once known no longer exists. I am now Princess Luria of the Seventh Kingdom, wife and love of Prince Balor. I will not be party to any of Magnus's ploys or strategies." She swung the sword lightly in front of her, letting Nigel see that she knew how to use it.

"I cannot do that, Luria. You belong to King Magnus. He took the veil of your purity; he's tasted of your blood. You must go to him. It is written in the Book of Honorium, the one true book that shows the fates of all. You must give birth to his heir, conceived of the night of the loss of your innocence." Nigel stepped closer, watching her eyes and the sword that she swung with such skill.

"I-I'm not pregnant," she stuttered, her hand going to her stomach. "I'd know if I were, and if I were, it would be Balor's, not your foul master's. He raped me in front of his men."

Nigel pulled his sword, seeing the only way to get to her would be to best her in battle. "Then prepare yourself, Princess," he said, the sarcasm in his voice making her title sound like a joke. "We shall see by the sword whom you should be with."

* * * *

Balor stared down at the map in front of him, running through deployment and strength issues with his father. He was unprepared for the huge falcon that flew in through the open window, coming straight at him with a shrill cry. The bird landed upon one mailed fist, his talons digging into the gauntlet Balor wore and lifting upward.

"Whoa, Balor, what is this?" Martane asked, stepping back from the huge bird. "Is that not Luria's?"

"She is," Balor said. "Something's wrong," he breathed, lifting his hand and sending the bird back up in the air where she circled once before heading out the window. By that time, Balor was at the door, rushing through and almost falling into Isobel's lovely arms.

"Balor," she exclaimed, doing her best to lift the huge man. "I'd hoped I'd find you alone so that we might talk." She wrapped her hand around his arm and held on.

Balor tried shaking her loose. "Not now, Isobel. I must go, something is wrong with Luria."

"Finally," Isobel said with a small smile. "You see my point. You must put her aside, give her back to Magnus and you and I can continue with our lives together the way it was supposed to be."

Balor stood straight and yanked his arm out of Isobel's grasp. "It will never happen, Isobel. Never. Do you understand?"

"Balor..." she began, her eyes filling up with tears. "What have I done to make you treat me so?"

"You stand between me and my wife, wench!" he almost yelled, before lifting her bodily and putting her out of the way. "Don't try it again."

Then he was gone, running as fast as he could to his rooms.

* * * *

Nigel swung again, only to feel the shudder up his arms as Luria blocked his blow with his own blade. She danced around him with a grace his lame, ugly body could not possess. Blocking his blows, she managed to find space to deliver a few of her own, feeling the cuts oozing his life's blood. "You bitch," he growled as he felt the slice of her blade against his upper arm.

"Thank you," she said, her arms beginning to ache with the strain of holding the heavy sword. "Now, leave and I shan't have to kill you."

"I cannot. I must take you to Magnus. He decrees it." Nigel stepped forward once more, only to find his way blocked by someone else, someone bigger, stronger, than Luria. Looking up, he met the flashing eyes of Prince Balor, his stomach turning in dread.

"You seek to hurt my wife?" Balor growled. Behind him, Rowan and Shria padded into the room, Rowan growling as he saw the little guard he'd chased once before.

"My lion remembers you, Nigel," Luria said. She stood at ease now that Balor had arrived, her sword down at her side. "Perhaps you and he should become better acquainted."

"You don't wish him to have indigestion before the battle, do you, love?" Balor grinned, reaching out with one hand and taking the sword right out of Nigel's hands with a practiced twist of his wrist.

"You don't understand..." Nigel began.

"And I really don't care too," Balor growled. "Luria is my wife, she is the princess of the Seventh Kingdom and I will not give her up to Magnus or to anyone else." He poked his finger into Nigel's chest. "I'm tempted to let you run back to the dark spawn that controls you and have you take him a message."

"W-what m-message?" Nigel stuttered.

"She is mine, and what is mine, I keep." Balor's face was fierce as he bent over the smaller man, his expression avid on letting him know the point. He didn't see the knife that Nigel palmed, nor the expression of triumph that flashed in his eyes a moment before he began to press the poisoned blade home.

But Luria did. With a roar of her own, she pushed Balor away, taking the point of the blade into her own body even as her sword came up, slicing deep into the black guard's chest and stomach and spilling his guts around their feet.

She fell back from the blade, stumbling for a moment before putting her hand against the wound. It came away red with her blood. "Balor..." she gasped.

"No," he whispered. "No, no." He lifted her easily into his arms and took her to the bed. The satin coverlet was thrown aside and he placed her upon the clean sheets, gently lifting her shirt to see the wound. His eyes flashed to hers, seeing the pain and fear upon her face.

"I have to call for the palace healer," he said softly, grabbing part of the sheet and pushing it against the bleeding wound. "Luria, you have to hold this in place." He grabbed her chin when she began to pass out instead of looking at him. "No, Luria, stay with me. You have to hold this tight, keep pressure on it." He rose, watching her hands holding down the sheet and how quickly it turned red. "Don't let go, hang on for me, Luria. Hang on for our love."

Her eyes went to his face, seeming to gain in determination. She nodded. "Hurry," she begged.

"Rowan, Shria, stay with her," he called to the big cats that were nosing the body on the ground. "Do not let anyone close to her." Rowan padded over, sitting on the ground next to the platform while Shria climbed the steps, standing on the other side of the bed. Then Balor ran from the room to get help.

* * * *

Magnus paced in his own dark castle, waiting with a look at the darkening sky for the last ray of the sun to fade away. He was impatient, wanting this done, wanting Luria in his hands. He'd have to punish her for running away and causing him the problems that she had.

"My liege," a soft feminine voice said.

Magnus looked up, his eyes glowing with the animosity that seemed to roil in his belly. Things weren't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to have the Descendant, he was supposed to have married her and put a babe in her belly. That babe would grant him sovereignty over the seven kingdoms. Instead, Luria had run away with Prince Balor and now he was chasing her all over the kingdoms.

"Who are you and what do you want? How did you get here?" he growled, his voice not even softening as he saw the beautiful girl before him.

"My name is Princess Isobel. I'm princess of the Sixth Kingdom and Prince Balor's true wife. He sets me aside for that blonde whore you want. I'm willing to help you retrieve her." Isobel stared at the man who wore all black, severe black with no piping or gems to ease the color. The only color upon his body was the ruby red ring he wore upon his right hand. The gem almost seemed to glow with a life of its own, echoing the evil glint that shone in the green of his eyes. He was a handsome man and she couldn't help but be a bit taken by the emotions she saw in his eyes.

"You are the bride of Prince Balor? But how can that be? I thought he'd taken my intended as his bride," Magnus growled the last, his irritation with what was happening sending lightning bolts to streak out from the castle and loud shouts of thunder to follow.

"She has bewitched him, sire. He doesn't know what he does. If I might be so bold," Isobel reached out to touch Magnus's sleeve, backing away quickly when he turned eyes gone black with malignant evil to her. "Oh!"

"Oh what, Isobel? Am I no longer attractive? Do you find me harsh and cold, evil perhaps?" Magnus grabbed her arm, yanking her to him so that her breasts flattened against the hardness of his chest. "You've come to me wanting me to rid your husband of his encumbering wife. What are you willing to do for me?"

"L-Luria will be yours as you wish, sire. What more do you want?"

Magnus chuckled, the sound so evil it sent shivers of fear up Isobel's spine in a shudder so huge, she couldn't hide it. "What do I want?" He made a motion with his hand that had her moving forward as if being pushed, her feet dragging on the floor. Wrapping his hand in the front of her gown, he yanked hard, hearing her cry of dismay as the bodice tore under his harshness. The thin layer of her chemise was all that hid her beautiful breasts from his eyes. "Pull it down," he ordered, nodding at the thin white fabric. "Show me your breasts, Lady."

"Y-you c-cannot," she stuttered. "I am Balor's."

"I might not, but you certainly can. If you wish my help, Lady Isobel, in retrieving your poor bewitched Balor from the hands of my evil bride-to-be, you must wish to give me something in return."

"A-anything b-but that, please, sire."

Magnus took a step back, his black eyes slowly turning back to green. "Go. You bore me with your theatrics." He looked deep into her eyes seeing the anger that rose to the forefront. "Wait," he said with a smile. "This is good. You lie about your intended. He is not yours but was to be your sister's Zhara's. Oh this is rich, Isobel. You poisoned her food, determined to take what was hers as your own."

"How can you know this?" Isobel cried out, feeling as if her whole world was being stripped bare before his eyes. "Stop, please, I do not wish to hear more. Let me leave this cursed place!"

"I don't think so," Magnus said softly, coming up to grab her arms. "You intrigue me. Your evilness is thicker than mine, it is more devious. I think you should stay, Isobel and we should get to know each other much, much better." Once more the shivering girl was drawn closer in his arms though this time there was no escaping. He dropped his head, finding her lips with his own. He kissed her, long and harshly, tasting her blood in his mouth.

Then with a shout, he drew back, one hand going to his lip where her teeth marks now resided. He glanced down at the blood on his hand and then back into the brilliant green eyes of the wench. "You'll regret that," he told her softly. "You'll cry for every tiny drop of my blood that you spill."

"No," Isobel said, shaking her head, her hair blowing back. "I shall rejoice in every drop and plot on how to make you shed more."

"We shall see. But for now, I have a land to conquer and my own bride to rejoin." He turned toward the door, calling loudly. "Guards!"

"I-I must go back," she cried as two of the black guard came up and took her arms. "I have to return before Balor realizes I'm gone. If he found out I was here..."

"He would know you for what you truly are," Magnus finished. "Do not worry. I have my own plans for the golden boy of the Seventh Kingdom. If you are truly repentant of the wounds you cost me, perhaps I'll let you have Balor when I finish with him. Take her to the dungeons. She is not to be touched," he called after them.

"No!" Isobel screamed, fighting and struggling against the overwhelming strength of the beasts that held her. "No! I have to go back. Magnus, please!"

* * * *

Balor sank down on the side of the bed not occupied by the six healers who'd rushed to his call. The oldest, a bowed and stooped old man with a white beard that almost reached to the floor was delicately prodding the small wound made by the knife. The bleeding had stopped but the flesh around it was turning a decided shade of dark gray going to black.

"It is a killing poison, Highness. It is not like anything I've seen before. We might excise the flesh, but I don't think it would help, the poison is in her system already."

"What are you saying?" Balor cried. He cradled Luria's hand in his own.

"There is nothing we can do, Sire," the old man said softly. "I have a draught that can ease the pain and make her more comfortable to the end..."

"The end?" Balor asked, his voice trembling. "I cannot believe this, I won't. She can't die, not like this, not for me. You keep looking; find something that will make her better because if she dies, you'll be right behind her."

"Easy, my son," King Martane said from behind his distraught son. "Of course they'll keep looking. This is the princess of the Seventh Kingdom. We won't give up on her." He gave the healers a look that had them scurrying for their books of spells and potions. "We could call upon the elves, Balor and if necessary, we shall call upon her mother Atana Potnia. We won't give up. But we need you; we need you to fight for her and for us, now, Balor."

"I know," Balor said but he was loath to release her, frantic that if he didn't keep his finger upon her pulse, it would slow and then stop, taking his one true love away with it.

"B-Balor," Luria whispered weakly, closing her hand around his. "Take Rowan with you. Send Shria back to the elves. Send for Marka."

Rowan heard her voice saying his name and put his huge front feet on the duvet that covered her. He nudged her gently and she managed to lift her hand, rubbing his ears. "Call for the others," she whispered to him, sending the thought of his vast pride that he'd left to be with her. "Call for them to come. Follow Balor, Rowan. Keep him safe."

He roared loudly in reply, then rasped his long tongue against the side of her face. Dropping to all four feet, he went to Balor and grabbed hold of his tunic, yanking gently.

"Rowan, stop," Balor growled. "I can't leave her."

"You have to," Luria said. "Go; make your people safe from Magnus. You can't do anything more for me now."

Balor bent down, his lips finding hers. She felt the touch of his tears upon her lips as he kissed her. A sob welled up inside of her. She'd do it again, throw herself in front of a knife to keep him safe. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you," Balor whispered back. Then he sniffed back his tears, his amber eyes going hard as he sat up. "Let's go, Rowan, Shria. You find a cure or something that will slow the poison until Marka gets here," he ordered the healers. His eyes softened a bit as he stared down at her one last time before turning to leave.

"Father?" he called. "Are you coming?"

"No," Martane said. "I have to go and call in a favor."

* * * *

Magnus stared over the hundreds of black guards who stood waiting for his command to attack. The doubled gates of the city were closed against him and he knew that inside there would be forces equal to or more than what he had out here. He also knew that his troops had one thing Balor's didn't. They didn't have a conscience. They didn't care who they killed to finish their mission.

"Where's Nigel?" he called to one of his commanders.

"He went into the palace before they closed the gates, Lord Magnus. I don't know what his intentions were."

"Nigel? He had a thought all of his own? I shall have to congratulate him upon that right before I gut him alive."

"What is your command, Lord Magnus?" another of his commanders asked, the huge black beasts they rode moving restlessly under him. "Shall we attack?"

"Yes," Magnus said, his voice sounding a bit bored. "When you capture Prince Balor, I want him and his princess brought to me, unharmed, do you understand?"

The men clasped their swords in their hands, hitting the breast plate of their armor with a closed fist. "Yes, Lord Magnus." Then as one, they nodded to the beasts carrying huge drums, and with the drummers giving the signals, began to head out.

Magnus watched for a while until he grew bored, then he turned, heading toward the stairs that led down to the dungeons.

* * * *

Isobel stood frozen in the center of the small cage they'd put her in. Rats were all around her, feasting on the death and decay of the bodies of those left to die down here. She'd screamed herself hoarse when they'd first left her here, unable to keep her eyes off the moldering bodies that let off the stench of decomposition. Her hands had come up and dug gouges into her cheeks as the horror grew until it left her barely capable of thinking, unable to comprehend what she was seeing any longer.

Magnus stood outside the cage, his bright green eyes upon the horrified girl. "Isobel" he whispered hoarsely. "Come to me, Isobel."

Her face turned, seeing him at the door. She went quickly, a plea forming upon her lips and in her eyes. Standing there, she stared up at Magnus as if he were her savior. "Thank you," she whispered softly, not remembering that he was the one that put her in that horrid place to begin with.

"Are you ready to thank me the proper way?" he asked.

"P-proper way?" she parroted.

"Yes, Isobel. Are you ready to fuck me?"

Tears gathered in her brilliant green eyes, falling softly across her cheeks to drip onto her breasts. "I-If I s-say no?"

"Then you shall just have to enjoy the company of your fellow dungeon mates," he said with a little laugh.

"No," she cried, reaching out to grab his tunic with her shaking hands. "Please don't make me go back. Please!"

"Oh, you don't have to go back, just pull down that pretty chemise you're wearing and show me your breasts." He nodded when she glanced down and looked back up at him, her hands coming up to pull at the straps to the chemise. "That's it, girl, just like that."

She moved slowly, giving him glimpses of the prettiness of her breasts as she pulled down the chemise. His eyes were fixated until finally she had the chemise tucked underneath the roundness of her breasts, exposing nipples that were a pretty rose color. Her hands then fluttered as if she really wanted to cover her breasts but a quick glance back at the cell he'd just taken her from kept her from doing it.

"Very nice," he said, reaching out to lift one heavy mound and hold it in his hand, almost as if weighing it. His finger and thumb slipped up and over one of the rosy nipples, twisting and tweaking at it until she gasped at the sensations that were causing a pool of lust to form in her belly.

"What are you doing?" she cried, her feet moving in place as if she really wished she could run from him. Instead of answering her, he grasped her nipple forcefully between his fingers, pulling on it to get her to follow him up the steps and out of the dungeons, into the front bailey that led to the castle proper.

"Please, sir," she moaned, seeing the few male servants left in the castle turning and staring lustfully at her breasts that were exposed so blatantly. "Please, don't dishonor me."

"You sound like someone else I once held here," he chuckled, dragging her through the main hall and into his throne room. She stumbled after him almost falling but his arm was there to push her back upward and onto her feet. "Perhaps I should do to you what I did to her."