Her Master's Hand Page 7

  “Did she just come back on her own, then?” Damen asked, as if he’d hoped that Maili had come to her senses.

  “No. The worst part of it is that a wizard brought her home. One I actually heard of, too—Ashcroft of Medwin. Have you heard of him? He’s held in high regard in the north, even despite his race. Now, I have no patience for wizards, but I have been curious about him myself. Anwen offered him to stay the evening, so I might get the chance to meet him in the morning. He’ll probably try to cypher knowledge out of me, though. That’s what archivists do. Well, hopefully he’s the sort of archivist who’s more concerned with knowledge than of using that knowledge for some devious purpose. You never know with those types of wizards… They either seem very wise or very evil…”

  He glanced at Damen, who seemed to be incredibly stunned. He stood there, straight as a toothpick. “Relax, my friend!” he laughed. He forgot that people in his kingdom were frightened of wizards, as well. Wizards had laid waste to the eastern deserts during their wars, enslaving his people more times than not. “He wouldn’t dare cause a ruckus in my house. He’s too smart for that. I promise that he’ll do you no harm!”

  Damen seemed to snap out of his expressionless haze, but then forced a smile. “Sorry. I just… I suppose I didn’t expect a wizard to get involved at all.”

  “I know. Don’t worry. I know his faction of wizardry rather well; archivists have a lot of knowledge, and can perform any spell, but they’re not extremely powerful on the whole. They tap out of energy quickly. Nothing to worry over. I could grind him into the dirt if I chose to.”

  Damen gave him a smile that seemed a little stretched on his face. There was nothing real about it—but Hoel understood that. It was never easy to disagree with a demigod like himself.

  Eventually Damen seemed to rally his feelings on the subject and stood tall. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be worried at all. I’m grateful to him for finding her and bringing her back so quickly. I should like to meet him.”

  It was late, so they let their men make camp. Damen disappeared, speaking to some of his high-rank men as they filtered in from their own searches.

  In the morning, Damen came to Hoel, looking dark-eyed, wearied, and tired.

  “I have bad news, great Hoel,” Damen said with a sigh. He looked wearily toward the mountains as if he had just been given the mission to dissemble them with a salad fork. “I have to leave my wife in your care for a little longer, just yet. We’ve just gotten some reports about some unrest in the western edge of our kingdom. It would be unsafe to bring Maili there with us. I must impose upon you to keep her safe. I should be back in another fortnight or so.”

  Hoel swore under his breath. This wasn’t good news at all; Maili still didn’t seem to get the fact that she was no longer Hoel’s property. She was property of her mate now, and had her duties. She was supposed to be hailed as a queen by this time next week. Now, once again, those duties of hers would be put off. “I worry about Maili,” Hoel admitted. “She needs structure and permanence. She’s been your wife for over two years now and needs to get to know you and her new kingdom. Your people have gone too long without a queen at your side.”

  Damen swallowed, but shook his head with resolve. “I would like that still to be in the future. The rebels are extremely aggressive, and sometimes they break into our camp. Maili would be looked at as a weak spot they could too easily manipulate.” He looked back at him with wise, genuine eyes. “It would be better if she stayed with you, just for now. It won’t be too much longer. I will make it up to her, I swear.”

  “It’s not good to bed your wife and then leave suddenly…” he groused, but there was nothing for it. Damen was right; Maili’s safety needed to come first. “Alright,” Hoel replied, nodding. He patted Damen on the shoulder. “Get to it then, and then come safely back to your mate. Hopefully this won’t leave her too restless.”

  Damen gave a thin smile. “Thank you for your understanding.”

  “It’s not me that you need to worry about—it’s the women. They have a mind of their own on matters like these, you know.” Hoel forced himself to grin.

  Damen nodded. “I know. I am sorry.”

  Just after the sun rose, Damen headed off, and Hoel and his own men were about to journey in another direction. Hoel shook his head. “Suitors were never so wily in my day. They courted a woman and carted her off to a happily ever after within a fortnight. Not come and gone constantly!” He continued to grumble complaints in his throat until the cocks started to crow in the distance.

  Chapter Five

  Ashcroft’s breath shuddered as he remembered the sounds of a firm chastisement coming from just down the hall from him. It was morning, but his brain wouldn’t fully wake up, nor would it let go of the images. Ashcroft found that he was lingering between being asleep and awake.

  He reached down, finally done with his inner struggle, and began to pull gently on his own length.

  He normally hated playing with himself, and not just for the obvious reasons—like the act being nowhere in the realm of bedding beautiful woman—but because, when he did it, he used to imagine the way his Charlotte used to suckle on his cock. The way her bottom reddened under his hand when he spanked her beautiful cheeks when she’d been naughty, the way he used to dirty talk to her, and she used to dirty talk back, calling each other names, making it nearly a fight until they were both fucking each other with all the strength in their bodies…

  Strangely enough, he now imagined what it would have been like to have been a fly on the wall, watching Maili getting spanked by the beautiful Anwen. He would have considered giving all the money he had just to have seen it with his own eyes. He imagined Maili had a beautiful, soft bottom that would squirm about, growing from pink into crimson, wiggling until that most secret place could be seen…

  Maili had a beautiful mouth, as well. What would it be like to feel that tongue roll down the entire length of his cock? He imagined how that warm heat would feel against him, how he would fill her mouth with seed…

  Damen was a lucky man indeed, to be able to have rights to the little slip of a thing. The girl had glorious curves. Even her obvious madness didn’t overshadow her own beauty. She had to have been worth an unimaginably large dowry.

  He wondered what it would be like to mount the little chit, to hold her bottom high in the air as he took her from behind. He was certain that she would moan, might even complain except for the heat in her voice, as if she didn’t want to be fucked as hard as she really did, as if she wanted gentle but needed her man’s thrusts to be rough and deep.

  “Ugh uh…” he hissed as he felt the heat in his cock rise to the surface, the building up of pressure. Finally, it released, causing him to close his eyes in bliss as he jetted his own seed onto his belly.

  He took a deep breath, his brain finally allowing him to fully come awake. He grabbed a washcloth from the dresser next to him, where a wash basin had been placed recently, and then sat up and began to clean himself off. He grunted with contentment.

  He had needed to cum; it made him feel like he could actually handle where he was. The last night he had gone to sleep with a million and one things on his mind. He hadn’t been this excited for a good long time about anything, and he needed his wits about him to make sure he didn’t end up making a fool of himself. He had spent too long developing a reputation as a wise wizard to give it all up now.

  He tugged on his trousers and checked his appearance. Thanks to the bath the night before—the first bath he’d had in the longest time—he felt and looked like a new man. He leaned over and began to shave, moving his hand over the basin of water to heat it and create enough steam to open his pores. After that, he began to sharpen his razor blade. He shaved nearly every three days, but only as he was reading, never with his full attention. At this point, he looked too scruffy and disheveled to move in the same circles as demigods.

  The door knocked, and he cut himself when he nervously jerked toward the
direction of the door, then swore at his foolishness. He bade whoever it was to enter.

  A servant came in, announcing that he had washed and pressed Ashcroft’s clothing. “Would you like me to help, sir?” he asked, gesturing to the blade in Ashcroft’s hand. Ashcroft was thumbing over a small cut in his neck. As he was an older immortal, it had already stopped bleeding, although the sting was still ebbing.

  “No, I’m fine once I get my damned fingers to do what they should,” he told the servant.

  “My master has returned and bade you join him over breakfast,” the servant added.

  Ashcroft cut himself again and swore. He grumbled and offered the blade to the valet. “Maybe I should have you do this after all.”

  The servant laughed and pulled up a chair for Ashcroft to sit in. “I heard wizards weren’t the type to get nervous.”

  “Yes, well, wizards normally aren’t silly enough to be anywhere close to someone who could so easily turn them to dust.” He raised his eyebrow as the valet began to shave him. “What is Hoel like, anyway?”

  The servant blushed and grinned. “Oh, he’s the best of masters. We are very lucky. He and his ladies treat us very well, indeed. All of the tenants on his land love him as well. It’s prosperous here because of him.”

  “I have to admit—I’m surprised he married his daughter off to a warlord. I thought he was a peaceful sort.”

  “He is the peaceful sort,” the servant assured simply. “But Damen is a king in his own right, made it himself with his own two hands in little more than a decade. He’s an anomaly. I have heard that the young missus is less than happy about her husband, but so are many girls in her position.”

  Curious enough to ask, Ashcroft said, “Do you like Maili?”

  The servant blinked at him. “Of course I do. She’s a bit on the brash side perhaps, but she’s never been anything but kind to the servants here. I don’t have a bad word to say about her, except maybe she argues too much, and she’s stubborn. Whoever steps between that girl and something she wants is bound to get mowed down.”

  “She must have been something as a child,” Ashcroft replied with a laugh.

  The servant’s eyes widened. “Oh, I wouldn’t know. As far as I can say, she’s never been a child.”

  “What?” Ashcroft blinked at him, and then narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’ve worked here nearly fifteen years, and she’s always looked the same. She’s immortal. Nobody remembers her as a child here. Most of us were only hired on in the last decade or so,” he replied casually. “We are told not to ask about it. But they are gods; perhaps she was born not of the normal way. Sometimes, gods just are.”

  Ashcroft knew quite well that that, with the exception of one, was utter nonsense. Except for the first, gods didn’t just pop into existence from nothing. They were born or they were fashioned. He wasn’t sure exactly how she came about, but Maili wasn’t a god. It was more likely that she was fashioned by one, but even that didn’t make sense. If Anwen had the power to create beings in her own image—and he was more than certain she didn’t—then she wouldn’t have created a witch. “Would you call her addle-minded at all?” Ashcroft asked thoughtfully.

  The servant laughed. “Well, I’m not at liberty to say. I wouldn’t say no, however. She’s a funny girl.” With that, he cleaned Ashcroft off with a hot towel.

  “Breakfast is in the main hall. Would you like me to escort…?” the servant asked as Ashcroft took a mirror. His first scratch had finally healed up so now it was just a healthy pink line. If only the rest of his face could heal.

  He rubbed his palm over his face. “You did a fine job. Thank you,” he said, turning. “I don’t need an escort. I believe I’ll find it.”

  “Happy to serve,” the valet chirped, bowed, and then left the room.

  So, Maili was a tad bit on the insane side. That was actually a relief. The last thing Ashcroft wanted to do was an inquisition on Hoel’s new son-in-law. He was excited to pick only the brain of Hoel himself.

  Ashcroft was also excited to be dressed in clean clothing for a change. He had been on the road for nearly ten years now, and his clothes were very rarely washed. He used to have clean clothes made up for him every day when he lived in the tower… But the tower was no longer home. It was a place filled with memories of a life he wanted, but could never have. Worst of all, it was a life that his servant was living with his wife—none other than Charlotte’s half-sister. Ashcroft heard that they recently had their third son. Damn it all, that was the life he had wanted for himself.

  But this was the life he had. Feeling clean and refreshed, he had to admit he hadn’t felt better than this in the longest time. Probably not since before Charlotte had died…

  He walked out of his bedroom and followed the long corridor down to the stairway. Eventually he found the dining room, but not before he got lost about three times. The palace looked far larger from the inside than it did from the outside.

  But Hoel was unmistakable; Ashcroft knew who he was looking at as soon as he stepped into the right room. Ashcroft swallowed and had to look up; the man was nearly eight feet tall before his two black, massive horns were taken into account. His skin was reddish, and his open eyes looked like they were orbs made of solid gold. He was devil-like in many ways, and so when the gold, inhuman eyes looked directly at Ashcroft, he began to rethink coming here. Maybe he should have just let the girl go along her way…

  “Master Ashcroft,” Hoel said in his deep, rumbling voice, and tilted his head in a respectful bow. He was standing at the sideboard, and put down a large plate of food before he extended his large hand, complete with black claws. His fingers were the size of bananas, and completely engulfed Ashcroft’s when he accepted the hand with his own. “I never thought I’d be welcoming a wizard onto my land. But I thank you for returning my daughter.” His tone wasn’t gruff, but actually rather pleasant. If he hadn’t been able to see Hoel, Ashcroft might have assumed he was a librarian or a manager of a museum.

  “Great Hoel—I’ve wanted to meet you since I was a small boy,” Ashcroft admitted.

  Hoel’s face stretched as if amused. “Really?” he asked. “Why?”

  Ashcroft looked confused for a moment, and then reminded him, “You went to war against the Pernellian faction… They were great enemies of my people.”

  “They were the teller of lies. They sewed doubt and destroyed knowledge and originality.” Hoel sounded surprisingly defensive.

  “I agree, they were… You really had fought our war for us. I had family that fought the Pernellians that did not make it back from the battle. Many of my people would thank you if given the chance.”

  “Why didn’t they?” he asked, his question stretched.

  “Well, you didn’t seem to… like wizards much after that—you made that quite well-known. We let you have your distance from us…” Ashcroft felt his weight shift uncomfortably from one foot to another.

  Hoel suddenly smirked. “So I did. I found nothing is more pleasant to kill than a wizard who’s asking for it…”

  “Hoel, can you stop bullying our guest and let him fix a plate for himself?” Anwen scolded, looking up from the table. She exchanged a friendly glance with Ashcroft.

  Ashcroft blinked at the goddess; she seemed so different than she had last night. She seemed less firm and worn down. Now, she looked calm and pleasant. “Sorry about him. He just walked through the door. He doesn’t know his manners until he’s had his first coffee of the day.”

  “What man does?” Ashcroft replied teasingly. He looked around. “Where is your daughter?”

  “Late,” she replied. “She’s always had trouble getting up and going in the mornings. She has about one hundred and fifteen reasons for not joining us until halfway through breakfast.”

  “She’s very good at excuses,” Hoel told him, then sat down next to his wife, and at the end of the table. He turned to Anwen. “And I am beyond excited to hear her excuse for
why she left.” That’s when Ashcroft had the misfortune to sit down. “Did she tell you why?”

  “Yes,” Ashcroft said, and motioned for a servant nearby to pour him some coffee.

  “Well?” Hoel asked, looking impatient.

  Ashcroft frowned, and then exchanged knowing glances with Anwen. “I’m sure she’d rather tell you herself. You’d be a better judge of the truth of your daughter than I would. Besides, she might have been relaying some things in confidence.” He did look about the room. “Is Damen Vanguard here? Or is he in with his wife?”

  Hoel growled. “He’s had to go on a campaign, I’m afraid, and chose not to take Maili with him. Once again, we’re her sole keepers.” He reached his large hand over to squeeze Anwen’s hand, which seemed extremely lovely, small, and pale in contrast to his own.

  Ashcroft frowned. Maili wasn’t going to like that—no Damen there meant that Ashcroft couldn’t even interview him as Maili would had wanted him to.

  Hoel suddenly waved his hand, and the servants quickly left the room. Ashcroft watched them go out, feeling his own pulse rise substantially. He hadn’t realized what a comfort it was that his conversation with Hoel had been witnessed by servants until they were gone. “You know she’s a witch, don’t you?” Hoel sighed, as if there had been anything Ashcroft was doing that alluded to the fact that Ashcroft knew. “You saw the cuff I’d put on her.”

  Ashcroft nodded, and forced himself to drink coffee, although he was nearly too nervous to swallow. It was possible that he had some very secretive information, and there was absolutely no reason yet that Hoel should be able to trust him with it. “It’s how I got her to admit that she was your ward. At first she wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I accidentally caught her in a net I was using to catch cyrannos in the southeastern woods… And I’m afraid she was also in her underthings. My net was unbreakable—I think her plan was to scramble out through the holes in the netting…”