Amber and Ashes - Margaret Weis [39]
“I have no commands for you yet,” said Chemosh. “I have a plan in mind, in which you will play a part, but the time is not yet right. You have leave to go.”
“Yes, my lord.” Krell bowed and started for the door. Halfway there, he halted and turned around, confused. “Go where, my lord?”
“Wherever you want, Krell,” said Chemosh impatiently. His eyes were on Mina, as hers were on him.
“I can go anywhere?” Krell wanted to make absolutely certain. “The goddess cannot touch me?”
“No, but the god can,” said Chemosh, losing patience. “Go wherever you want, Krell. Commit what mayhem you will. Just don’t do it here.”
“I will, my lord!’ Krell gave another bow. “Then, my lord, if you have no further need for me—”
“Get out, Krell.”
“I await your call. Until then, I take my leave. Farewell, my lord.”
Krell clanked and rattled his way out of the mausoleum. Chemosh slammed shut the bronze door behind him and locked it.
“I thought you had done something quite clever in capturing that wretch, Mina. I see now that I could have sent a gully dwarf to fetch him.” Chemosh smiled at her, to show he was teasing, and reached out his hands.
Mina clasped her hands in his, moved near to him. “And what is to be my reward, Lord?”
Her amber eyes shone; her hair was red-gold flame. Her hands tightened over his, and he could feel the smoothness of the skin sliding over the hardness of bone. He could hear the rush of the pulsing blood in her veins and see the throb of her life in the hollow of her neck. He gathered her close, reveling in her warmth, the warmth of life, the warmth of mortality.
“How will I serve my lord?” Mina asked.
“Like this,” he said and took her in his arms.
He kissed her lips. He kissed the hollow of her neck. He stripped the shirt from her body, and holding her tightly, pressed his lips on her breast, above her heart.
His kiss seared her flesh, which began to blacken beneath his touch. Mina cried out. Her body stiffened and she writhed in pain and struggled in his arms. He held her fast, held her close. And then, slowly, he withdrew.
She shuddered, sighed. Her eyes opened. She looked at him, deep into his eyes. Then, wincing, she looked down at her breast.
His mark was on her, the imprint of his lips, burned into her flesh.
“You are mine, Mina,” said Chemosh.
The kiss had burned through flesh and bone, struck to her heart. She felt stirring within her the power he had just granted her and she leaned toward him, her lips parted, wanting his kiss again and again.
“I am yours, Lord.”
Desire ached in him, and he no longer questioned it. He would take her, make her his own, but he needed to make certain she understood.
“You will not be a slave to me, as you were for Takhisis.”
Chemosh caressed her neck, ran his hand over the imprint left by his kiss. Her flesh was charred and starting to blister where his lips had touched her. He traced the black kiss with his finger.
“You will be my High Priestess, Mina. You will go forth into the world and gain followers for me, followers who are young and strong and beautiful as yourself. I will be their god, but you will be their master. You will wield power over them, absolute power, the power of life and death.”
“What inducements can I offer them, my lord? The young do not like to think of death …”
“You will give them a gift from me. A gift of rare value, one that mankind has wanted since the beginning of time.”
“I will do all you ask, lord, with pleasure,” said Mina. Her breath came fast.
Chemosh brushed back the red hair with his hand. The silken strands tangled around his fingers. Her lips were warm and eager, her flesh warm and yielding at his touch.
He crushed her body against his. She gave herself to him with passionate abandon, and he no longer wondered how a god could find pleasure in the arms of a mortal. He wondered only that it had taken him this long to make the discovery.
he black palanquin arrived at the city of Staughton early on the morning of the festival known as