“We’ve sent for your husband, Elissia, so we’ll all just sit down and wait for him to get here,” she said, smiling at the silly woman as she and her husband moved closer to where Elissia stood. “We won’t need anything in the way of refreshment so don’t bother to send for a servant.”

  She’d added that last about a servant because Elissia had glanced at a bell pull. Things would really go much better if there were no witnesses around until the time came for many witnesses to be around. They would have to speak to Derand first, of course, but then? Then she would finally have the position in life she deserved.

  When she reached a chair across from the one Elissia stood in front of, she sat down and made herself comfortable. Her husband took a chair to her left, and she smiled at how gingerly he lowered himself to sitting. There was no doubt he still ached from his latest punishment as well as the one before that, but it was nothing he didn’t deserve. He was supposed to have made her High Queen, and now that she had to do the thing herself, his failure had to be paid for.

  And he’d been paying in many enjoyable ways, enjoyable to her, that was. She smiled at the memory of the time they’d spent before lunch, an amount of time long enough for giving him that additional dose of punishment. When they reached their apartment’s bedchamber he’d gone to his knees as he was supposed to, but something about his posture had bothered her.

  “Your head isn’t down low enough, and I think I know why,” she’d said as she studied him. “Watching all those silly contests has made you imagine that you’re something you’re not, hasn’t it?”

  “No, mistress, please, it hasn’t,” he’d answered, his head immediately lowering to the proper position.

  “I’m nothing, and of no consequence at all.”

  “If you really believed that I wouldn’t have had to scold you,” she’d pointed out, still studying him. “What you need is another lesson in humility, I think, but which one should it be?”

  He’d known she wasn’t actually asking him for a suggestion, so he’d stayed properly silent. But his body had tensed up in anticipation of what she would choose, which was really very wise of him. There was one lesson he’d disliked intensely the time or two she’d used it, and it was possible to make that lesson even more ? educational for him.

  “Take your breeches and short clothes down, and then rest your forearms and forehead on the floor,”

  she’d ordered before heading for the bathing room. She’d had the foresight to bring along everything she might need for his disciplining, and some of the paraphernalia was in a bag in the bathing room. He, of course, had immediately started to obey her, so when she finished her preparations and came back to the bedchamber he was all ready and waiting for her.

  His broad, bare bottom was thrust up into the air the way it was supposed to be, and she’d smiled at the redness that hadn’t yet faded from this morning’s session of discipline. Men needed a constant reminder of who their master was, otherwise they tended to think they were free to get out of hand. Her husband had been learning better, but he still required a special touch every now and then.

  “Hold still,” she ordered when his bottom twitched at the feel of the polished bone wand-end entering between his cheeks. The wand was hollow and was mostly made of rubber, except for the equally hollow tapering end of bone. The other end of the wand was attached to a small bag also of rubber, which already contained the warm water it was supposed to hold.

  “This will do you a world of good,” she’d said as she squeezed the rubber bag, causing him to moan out his distress. The warm water was being forced into his bottom, and the tiny movements of his body which were beyond his controlling showed how unpleasant he found the sensation. She squeezed every drop of water out of the bag before removing the wand end from his bottom, and then she inserted the cork.

  “There,” she’d said as she put aside the apparatus. “Now you’re all prepared for the lesson. Do you think you’ll learn it any better this time?”

  “Yes, mistress, I swear I will,” he’d choked out, obviously already feeling the water beginning to work on him. He knew better than to say anything else, of course, no matter how desperate his situation became.

  “Pull your clothing up and then come and sit with me,” she’d said after returning the apparatus to the bathing room and its place in the carrying bag. “We can share a cup of tea.”

  His face showed that his desperation had grown, but he still obeyed her and pulled up his clothing before walking slowly to the chair she’d indicated. When his seat came in contact with the chair his eyes widened and he gasped, but no words were spoken. He simply reached for the cup of tea she’d poured and placed near him, and then picked it up in trembling hands. She sipped at her own tea with her gaze directly on him, so he had no choice but to sip as well.

  It was amazing how quickly his small movements of discomfort turned into actual squirming. She waited until a soft whimper came from his throat, and then she smiled.

  “There are a number of things that have to be done before that cork can come out of you,” she said, drawing his immediate attention. “The first of those things is, of course, the additional session of discipline your behavior has earned you. Go and get the light switch and bring it back to me.”

  He put the teacup back on the table and then got himself out of the chair, small mewling noises coming from his throat. He couldn’t seem to move as fast as he obviously wanted to, so it was a long minute before he got the short, slender switch and brought it back to her. He offered the switch to her with both hands, and when she took it he then began to lower his breeches and small clothes again.

  When his bottom was bare, he had some trouble arranging himself across her knees in a way that didn’t burden her with his full weight. He knew well enough how to do that arranging, but the cause of his desperation was obviously making him somewhat clumsy. Still, that didn’t excuse the clumsiness, so she gave him ten strokes with the light, springy switch instead of the five he usually got for discipline. Each stroke caused him to twitch and swallow a moan, and he seemed ready to stand again when he got the sixth stroke. If he’d actually started to stand up after the fifth stroke he would have gotten twenty instead of five, but the obedience he’d learned saved him that.

  She gave him the last four strokes slowly, letting the burning build up well in his seat before delivering the next whack. He actually seemed close to tears when she finally told him he could stand up again and fix his clothing, but he restrained himself and then took the switch to return it to its proper place.

  After his little chore was done, she walked to the bed and lowered her own breeches, then lay down. He came to her as fast as he could make himself move, knowing what was expected of him now. He had to use his lips and tongue to give her pleasure, and his desperation seemed to lend him more skill than usual.

  It wasn’t long before her body spasmed with delicious release, and once her breathing eased a bit she looked at him.

  “All right, now you can go and use the facilities,” she said, feeling good enough to be generous.

  “Thank you, mistress,” he said with a bow of his head, not forgetting to then touch his forehead to the bed. He’d shown her the proper respect, and only then had he turned and made his squirming, hopping way to the bathing room. She felt the urge to call him back just as he was about to enter the room, but that sort of effort really wasn’t necessary. If she’d called him back he would have come, but he’d probably also have cried. They would be among other people again in a little while, and tears sometimes left a track that couldn’t be washed away with water. No, this time she didn’t want him to cry?

  “What was it that you wanted to speak to Derand about?” Elissia said suddenly from the chair she’d reclaimed, drawing her back from pleasant memories. “Do you have a question that I might be able to answer?”

  She smiled rather than respond in words, not about to mention the reason she and her husband were here. Derand obviously adored this new wife of his, so when he showed up he would be told that Elissia would be killed unless he immediately gave up his place as High King to her husband. As soon as he spoke the words of abdication in front of the other kings, he would return to the apartment. He would expect to get his little wife back unhurt, and he would find her unhurt.

  As unhurt as she would stay until he was dead, and then she would follow him down to death. Then she would be High Queen, and the delightful fun would really begin?

  Chapter 21

  “What was it that you wanted to speak to Derand about?” Elissia said, having sat down again. “Do you have a question that I might be able to answer?”

  The woman simply smiled at her, and that after having been lost in her thoughts for a time. She seemed a different woman now, and she wasn’t pretending that her husband was in charge any longer. Elissia knew that that wasn’t good, not in any way at all. The only bright spot was that she didn’t seem to realize that Elissia knew her for the enemy she was.

  She, rather than her husband. Elissia only glanced at the man where he sat in obvious discomfort, his manner making it clear that his wife was in charge of everything including him. That was the memory Elissia hadn’t been able to reach at first, the memory of noticing yesterday that this man moved and sat as though he’d been spanked by someone. The realization hadn’t come through until Elissia saw -and thought about - the way Derand’s mother moved after having been punished, and then all the missing pieces had fallen into place.

  This man had moved both yesterday and this morning as if his bottom ached, and he was one of only two of the men who hadn’t protested seeing his wife in breeches. His wife had claimed he’d grumbled, but unlike Sholon, who didn’t seem to be aware of anything not pertaining to warfare, he was fully aware of what his wife wore. Aware but showing neither approval nor disapproval, as if he felt he hadn’t the right to an opinion.

  All of which has to mean that she’s in complete charge of him, Elissia thought. Not simply the possessor of a stronger personality that he’s learned to listen to, but almost like the owner of a slave. She does as she likes to him, and he accepts it all without protest. She obviously wants him to be High King, which will put all the power into her hands instead. How can he stand to live like that? ?

  “I can understand, in a distant way, why some women let themselves be treated like a slave,” Elissia found herself saying, the confusion inside her forcing the words out. “If a woman has no resources of her own, if she’s too weak to defend herself, if she’s terrified of facing the world alone and helpless, then she accepts what’s done to her in order to survive. But why a man would do the same is completely beyond me, especially a man strong enough to defend a throne. What can he possibly be afraid of?”

  “It isn’t always fear that’s behind such actions,” the woman answered, still clearly amused. “Sometimes it’s the need to be dominated, the need to be relieved of any and all responsibility. When you put yourself completely into the hands of someone else, you no longer have to worry about making mistakes, or choosing among difficult options, or about anything at all. As long as you behave exactly as you’re ordered to, you can revel in the knowledge that all your needs are being seen to properly. If you do happen to make a mistake you’re punished swiftly and soundly, and the punishment can be avoided by not doing the same again. You know exactly where you stand in life, with each and every burden removed from your shoulders.”

  “Making mistakes is part of being human, and often the mistake itself is enough to teach you not to do the same again,” Elissia countered, sickened by the slick response she’d gotten. “If you find someone who’s afraid to make decisions, you teach them how to choose between or among their options. Taking over their lives instead is wrong no matter how gracious you make the action sound. It’s like finding someone who’s fallen, and instead of helping them back to their feet you keep kicking them to keep them down.

  You’re not helping them, you’re just letting yourself have the kind of fun only the sick consider attractive.”

  “The strong are always in charge of the weak,” the woman came back, no longer amused. “And aren’t you the wrong one to be voicing such noble sentiments? The word going around this palace is that you forced Derand to back down from the way he tried to treat you, and now you’re the one in charge. You made him crawl, and he liked it so well that he begged for more. When you tell him what he has to do to keep you safe, he won’t hesitate for an instant.”

  “I think you’re forgetting that you’re supposed to be here just to chat with Derand, Sissile,” Elissia pointed out, both relieved and disturbed that the woman had dropped her innocent act. “And you’re dreaming if you really think that Derand will abdicate in favor of your husband Lovar and then you’ll have it all. Lovar will never be High King because the other kings won’t follow him the way they follow Derand. Lovar doesn’t have the ability to defeat the others, so they’ll immediately challenge him if he tries to take the High throne. Everything you’ve done has been a waste of time.”

  “How much of a waste of time will it be when the rest of our fighters get here and kill the paltry fifty fighters the others have brought with them?” Sissile countered as she leaned forward in her chair, her light eyes blazing. “If the other kings want to keep from being killed in the same way, they’ll have to pledge their loyalty to Lovar.”

  “You know, I used to think it was only men who lived in a dream world,” Elissia said, too annoyed to worry about what she was saying. “Are you under the impression that Derand sent his fighters on vacation because he knew, deep in his heart, that none of his kings would be so dishonorable as to try to sneak in extra fighters? And even if by some unknown fluke your fighters do manage to follow their orders and you’re able to ask the other kings for their sworn words, how long do you think those words will be kept? As long as five minutes after they get back to their kingdoms and the rest of their own fighters?”

  “They’re men, and men keep their words even if they don’t want to,” Sissile ground out, clearly refusing to hear anything but her own ideas. “As soon as Derand does what I want him to, I’m going to enjoy watching you die, bitch. And if you open your mouth again I’ll see to it that you beg for that death. Where the hell is that fool you’re married to?”

  Elissia watched the small woman get to her feet and start to pace back and forth, the anger in Sissile growing higher with every passing minute. Sissile was completely irrational, and being balked in any way increased her irrationality to the point of insanity. So far Lovar hadn’t said or done a thing, but Elissia wasn’t fooled. A single word from Sissile would have the husky man doing anything she told him to, up to and including killing their “hostess.” It was like being in the same room with a dangerous dog on a leash.

  As long as the leash was tightly held the people around the dog were fine, but if the leash were released?

  “He’ll pay for making me wait so long, that miserable fool will definitely pay,” Sissile muttered as she moved back toward Elissia. “Who does he think he is, taking his time when I send for him? A taste of the whip before he goes to do as he’s ordered will do him no end of good, and he’ll learn to like it with me in charge even more than he likes having his sweet wife in that place. And if he’s obedient enough, I may even keep him alive for a short while? “

  The madwoman’s muttering had also made Elissia wonder where Derand could be, but there were too many possibilities to know for certain. Derand might not even have gotten the word Sissile had sent, or he could be occupied with some other -

  “No!” Elissia gasped, grabbing for the glass Sissile had picked up from the table near Elissia’s chair. The pixie-like woman quickly pulled the glass out of Elissia’s reach, and then she laughed harshly.

  “Your life is almost over, bitch, so stop trying to hold onto things that now belong to me,” Sissile said with a toss of her black-haired head. “This isn’t wine, so it has to be exactly what I want right now.”

  And with those words the small woman swallowed in one gulp the contents of the glass that she obviously thought held some kind of whisky. Elissia had started to get out of her chair to stop the madwoman from drinking the poisoned tea, but Lovar stood up quickly with silent menace as his right hand closed into a fist. Even without words, the man’s meaning was perfectly clear: If Elissia tried to interfere with anything Sissile did, Lovar would use that fist to stop her.

  So Elissia straightened and then just stood there and watched Sissile swallow down what she’d meant to use herself. In an oddly detached, unreal way, it was like watching herself do what she’d earlier hesitated over, and a reaction came in no more than a few heartbeats. Sissile made a face over the taste of what she’d swallowed as she looked into the emptied glass, and then she choked as her eyes widened. She dropped the glass as she choked a second time, her hands going to her throat and middle, and then she tried to scream. It was perfectly clear how badly she wanted to scream, but the sound was never voiced.

  Instead she collapsed to the floor, her body jerking as her legs kicked a few times, and then all motion abruptly ended.

  Just like a hunting cat killed with an arrow, Elissia thought distantly, an odd ? bubble-like thickness between her and the world. Something inside kept her staring at Sissile’s body - until a sudden movement to the right caused the bubble to burst.

  “Sissile?” Lovar said, frowning at the dead woman as though he’d only just noticed what she was doing.

  “Is something wrong? May I ask why you’re just lying there?”

  May I ask, Elissia thought with heavy illness as she saw Lovar begin to move toward Sissile’s body. As soon as the man’s full attention was on his wife, Elissia forced herself to edge slowly toward the right and away from the two. She had no idea what would happen when Lovar finally knew the truth, but there was no one left to hold the leash of that very dangerous dog?