Chapter 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."