Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [154]
The red yarn had gotten tangled in the straps. It must have snapped when Leodan's men dragged me from the saddle.
I closed my eyes. "No.”
"I can give you what you want, Imriel." Morwen moved closer, crouching, showing me the leather bag. The scent of her, rank and overripe, surrounded me. "You sought to make a bargain. I am offering one." With her other hand, she reached out to stroke my groin. "Give me a child.”
The mingling of disgust and acute desire was excruciating, and in a horrible way, far too close to the waking fantasy I'd conceived. I tried to ward her off, but my arms seemed to weigh two hundred pounds apiece. I couldn't even lift them. "Why?" I whispered.
"I've seen her." Morwen's pupils dilated, black circles rimmed by pale grey. "I've seen our daughter, Imriel. A child of two worlds, a child of two folk. She will walk the old ways and the new and preserve the balance between them. She will be a magician, a powerful magician." Her fingers fumbled at my breeches, picking at the laces. She drew a sharp breath. "Mayhap even powerful enough to unlock the secrets of the Master of the Straits!”
Bile rose in my throat as her hand closed around the shaft of my phallus. Love's throbbing scepter.
"I swore an oath!" I said in anguish. "For a year and a day, I pledged myself to Dorelei, and Dorelei alone. By stone and sea and sky, and all that they encompass. Alba's ancient oath; your oath, Morwen! Would you have me break it?”
She paused. "In your heart, you are already forsworn.”
I gritted my teeth. "I do not consent to this.”
Morwen smiled, her hand moving on my phallus. "This says otherwise.”
I struggled for memories of Daršanga, but they were too far away; and my memories of Sidonie were too close. Desire burned, caustic and harsh. My body seemed to belong to someone else. Morwen reached out with one hand and pushed my chest. I toppled onto my back, helpless. My spine arched, hips thrusting. My fingers scrabbled at the forest loam. Morwen began to crawl up the length of my body, hitching her skirts with one hand, the other clutching the leather bag that held the mannekin.
"I will give this to you when we are done," she said. "It is a small price to pay for your freedom. And Alba's future is at stake.”
I felt her moist nether-lips slide along the length of my phallus and hissed through my teeth. Her smell filled my nostrils. The worst of it was, appalled and disgusted as I was, I wanted her. It was as though all the brightness and glory I'd ever found in desire was held in that vile bag, and all that was dark and disturbing surged forth to meet it. I wanted her to free me, I wanted to turn her over in the dark forest and rut like a beast, taking her from behind and shoving her face into the loam.
No.
"Blessed Elua be my witness," I whispered. "I do not consent to this. Mighty Kushiel, hear your scion. This is blasphemy, and I will avenge it.”
Morwen hesitated. "Your gods are not here.”
"Imriel!”
It was Kinadius' voice. Branches crackled in the offing, broken by tramping feet. A horse whickered; the Bastard raised his head and replied. A grimace of fury contorted Morwen's face, the tattooed claw marks writhing. She squeezed the leather bag so hard, I thought my testes would burst, and I couldn't tell whether it was with pleasure or pain. Tears trickled from the corners of my eyes.
I laughed through my tears. "No, but one of my men is.”
Morwen let go the bag and leapt off me with unnerving swiftness, her hands forming rigid claws. I got stiffly to my feet and read her shadowed face.
"Don't do it," I said, drawing my sword. "I swear to Elua, if you think to attack him in any form, I will defend him to the death. And if you think you can get past me without doing me grievous harm, you're sore mistaken. Are you so eager to be forsworn, Morwen?”
She made a guttural sound deep in her throat. For a long moment, we stared at one another.