MAN OF WAR

16

Titus sat impatiently in his seat, listening to Gulliver entertaining the other guests at the table with the tale of their battle with the rebel ships. Gulliver was far better at telling tales then he was. The others at the table were hanging on his every word as he made Titus out to be some glorious hero.

            Personally, Titus would have preferred to have just forgotten the whole thing. He did not wish to be in this place tonight with these people. He was not much in the mood for celebrating. He had spent two months away; they had felt unbearably long. Once they had reached Galanadar, Titus, and his crew, had spent a week in the harbour waiting for the other ships to be made ready to set sail.

            He and his crew were offered such great hospitality. Food, wine, and women, but Titus spent his time on deck, staring out over the water longing for the touch of a woman that was thousands of miles away. Titus had always loved his time at sea until now. Now he felt empty on the water. He felt as if he were missing something. He longed to return to Kumun.

            “Is all well, Admiral?” Gulliver had asked one night on the deck while the men were enjoying their host’s hospitality. “Your melancholy is starting to concern the men,” his first mate said, leaning over the sturdy wooden banister beside Titus.

            “All is fine. The men should not concern themselves,” he said.

            “They think you have lost your passion since the Emperor has died. That you do not believe in Emperor Victor,” Gulliver looked around cautiously and lowered his voice. “There has been talk of mutiny. The men believe that you will not follow this new Emperor.”

            Titus stood up straight and fixed Gulliver with a hard stare. “You listen here and make it clear to every man aboard. I am loyal, and any man that serves under me had best be too. We serve the Empire, despite the man who rules it. I will have no more talk of treason.”

            Gulliver nodded his head. “Every man on this ship, Sir, would follow you into hell. You only need to ask. The men follow you, not the Emperor,” he said, walking away and leaving Titus alone with his thoughts. He could not blame his men. He had been having difficulty grappling with his own conscience when it came to dealing with the new Emperor. He found it difficult to blindly follow a man he did not respect, nor too willing to lay his life, or the lives of his men, on the line for a man he could not stand. Yet he was the Emperor, and it was Titus’ place to do so.

            Titus had prayed for a quiet sail home, although he had known better. He knew the rebel leaders would get wind of the reinforcements coming over and do what they must to prevent it. When his man in the crow’s nest hollered down that there were two ships on the horizon, Titus knew immediately that the rebels had decided to make their move.

            Titus rushed to the helm and began shouting commands. “Battle stations! Arm the cannons!” His men did not fail him; they rushed to their stations and were ready for battle swiftly. That day Titus did not fight for the Empire; he fought for Jade. He knew, staring at those ships, that on that afternoon either they would die or he would. He was not about to allow them to keep him from her. The rebel ships had to fall.

            His motives were his own, though, and the way Gulliver told the story, it was all for God and country, with Titus swooping in on ropes single handily dispatching each rebel. He was, of course, over embellishing the story to make it sound more exciting and romanticizing it for the ladies at the table. Lord knew he could not tell the truly gory details of the battle to such delicate ears.

            “You are so courageous, Admiral,” Lady Genevieve said, leaning into the table. He had the great misfortune of being seated across from her and her parents during dinner. The young chit had been making eyes at him all night, and he had been doing his utmost to ignore her completely. “You must be very excited about your promotion this evening,” she smiled, batting her long lashes at him. “My father was right; you are destined for great things. What will you do now?”

            Titus offered Lady Genevieve and her parents a light-hearted smile. “I do not know. Perhaps I will join the army now and start all over again,” everyone at the table chuckled with amusement. Lord Rutherford began discussing what he felt the army should do about the gathering of rebel forces outside the Danagate Forest. Titus listened; he always thought it funny to hear military strategy from pampered nobility.

            A servant girl came to the table and began to refill everyone’s mugs with wine. When she reached Titus’, he placed his hand over the top of his mug, preventing her from refilling it. He did not wish for any more wine tonight. In fact, he intended to slip away soon and escape the party before Genevieve insisted on dancing. “No wine for me,” he said quietly, rejecting her offer without looking up.

            “Welcome back, Sir,” the servant girl whispered in her ear before pulling away.

            He would have recognized that voice anywhere. Titus looked up to find Jade staring down at him with a sweet smile. She was even more beautiful then he remembered. Her long dark hair was tied back in a loose braid down her back. She was dressed in a simple light tanned skirt and a white blouse under a dark brown bodice. A long white apron tied about her waist. In her hands, she carried a large clay jug of wine. Her beautiful amber eyes sparkled as she looked at him, and he could not help but smile at the sight of her. He wanted so badly to reach up and touch her, but she simply smiled at him and went on to serve the next table.

            Titus watched Jade as she moved around the room from table to table, serving the other guests. Her gaze continuously lifted to meet his. Their eyes would meet, and he would hold her gaze for a moment, and then she would go about her business. He felt his body stir with the need to have her. Titus wanted Jade so badly he was painfully hard just thinking of getting her alone.

            “Admiral,” a voice broke through his daze. He returned his attention to the other guests at the table, realizing they had been speaking to him, and he had not heard a single thing they had said. “What do you think about the matter?” Lady Genevieve asked, looking at him and then looking over at Jade, she got a jealous scowl on her face. “What do you think?”

            Titus watched as Jade slipped out of the hall. “Yes, it is all wonderful,” he said, coming to his feet abruptly. “If you will excuse me, something has come up,” he said. Not waiting for a reply, he walked away, heading for the same exit he had seen Jade use. He was not going to allow her to vanish into the night on him.

            Titus slipped out of the hall and into the servants’ passageway. He looked both ways and did not see Jade. There was light coming from his left, so he decided to go that way, assuming she would have likely gone in the direction of the light. He moved quickly, wanting to catch up with her, and he did just around the next corner. Titus found Jade coming out of the kitchens where she had deposited the clay jug she had been carrying.

            She was alone, and there was no one else in sight. Titus came out of the shadows and grabbed Jade from behind. She shrieked, but his hand covered her mouth to muffle the sound. His lips pressed against her ear, he whispered. “It is me, Sweet Siren,” Jade relaxed at the sound of his voice, and he took his hand from her mouth. “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand and leading her through the passageways.

            “Where are we going?” Jade asked, trying to keep pace with his long strides.

            “Someplace private,” he said.

            “How is it you know these halls?”

            Titus smiled back at her. “I used to play in these passages as a child. My memory is perfect,” he turned right and exited out into a beautiful garden with a tall hedge maze. He remembered playing in the maze as a child with Logan. They used to play war games and practice ambushing each other. He remembered the layout like it were the back of his own hand. Under the cover of darkness, it was the perfect place to find solitude and privacy. They would not be discovered here.

            Titus guided Jade into the maze. There were stone benches and marble statues everywhere within the maze. Titus found a quiet secluded spot with a long stone bench and sat down. Holding Jade’s hands, he coaxed her to sit at his side. She looked radiant in the moonlight. “It is so good to see you,” he said, caressing her cheek. “I was hoping I would find you this evening.”

            “It has been two long months; I would have thought you would have forgotten me,” Jade said softly, nuzzling his hand as he touched her.

            “You would be impossible to forget,” Titus said. “You were all I could think of,” he grinned, leaning into her. His lips captured hers softly, and he felt the fire burning between them, threatening to consume him. She tasted so sweet and smelled of lavender oil, most likely from assisting the Empress. He pulled the lace from her hair and worked it free, letting her long raven locks flow freely. His fingers ran through her hair, and he deepened his kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth, dancing with her own.

            Jade’s arms came around his shoulders, and she pressed herself against him. Titus held her tightly, his hands roaming her back, sliding down over her bottom. He lifted Jade onto his lap, and she reached down, pulling the buttons of his britches free. “I must have you,” she whispered, freeing him from his confines.

            “I am yours,” he promised, positioning her atop of him and lifting her skirt. “Forever and always,” Jade slowly lowered herself down his rigid length, taking him in completely, riding him like he was her prised stud. Titus placed soft kisses down her neck and over her collarbone. He pulled the laces of her bodice loose and pulled the front of her blouse down. His mouth closed over her bare breast, and his tongue flicked over her budded n****e.

            She moaned with satisfaction, and her fingers twined in his hair, pulling his dark locks free from the queue he wore. Titus nibbled at the tout bud, and her head fell back as she moaned sweetly, setting his blood on fire. Jade moved over him, sliding up and down his rigid length, fulfilling the countless fantasies he had had while laying in his bunk at sea.

Many a night, he lay there fantasizing of Jade picturing her just as she was atop him, riding him to their mutual satisfaction. So warm, so receptive, so beautiful and wild. She was so perfect. He could never imagine a woman better for him. A woman he craved as much. She was like the other half of his soul. A piece of himself that he had never known was missing until she came into his life. As Titus gazed up into her eyes, his heart felt light. He loved her, he realized, the epiphany stunning him. He really did, with all his heart. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he had lost his heart to Jade. He could not live without her; he did not even wish to try.

            Oh, cruel irony. Oh, twisted fate, that she was his enemy. That an imperial officer could lose his heart to a slave girl. They could never be more than they were at that moment. Star-crossed lovers, stealing kisses in the night. A Fleet Admiral, he could never make Jade his wife. Titus kissed Jade passionately, hoping to convey what it was that he was unable to say.

            Titus slid off the bench and lay Jade back against the cool soft grass. He wished to make love to her, to bind her to him forever. He kissed her, caressed her, and worshipped her so completely. He would ruin her for any other. He would make love to her until the sun rose, and the morning bird sang.

***

            Miya had spent the evening perched high on the palace wall amongst the gargoyles. He had gone unseen thus far in the soldiers’ quarters, listening in on many of the conversations. He had heard plenty of what had happened on the water and of what the soldiers expected to happen in the Danagate Forest when they faced the rebel forces. The victory on the waters had given them a false sense of superiority. Many of the new soldiers expected to waltz right in and crush the rebellion in one blow. The more seasoned Kumun soldiers, who had spent the better parts of their lives fighting the rebellion, seemed to know better.

            “They will not just roll over and cower because we outnumber them. They will fight us ’til their last breath,” one soldier with a missing eye said as he sharpened his sword. He had grown tired of listening to the new soldiers gloating about what they had no experience dealing with.

            “Please, it is just angry peasants and farmers playing soldier,” one of the Galanadar soldiers laughed along with his friends. “They cannot be a match for thousands of trained soldiers. They will see us on the field of battle, and turn tail and run.”

            The Kumun soldier rose to his feet in a rage. “You are a fool, and you will be among the first to die because you underestimate your opponent. These rebels are not just farmers and peasants with pitchforks. They are also condemned criminals, and trained soldiers turned traitor. They believe in a cause, and they have absolutely nothing to lose. They have no home, no loved ones that are not already gone. There is nothing more dangerous than someone fighting for a cause they are willing to die for when they have nothing left to lose. Because they are not afraid to die, they will take as many of you with them as they can,” he growled, pulling off the eye patch he wore to expose the mangled empty socket that used to be his eye. “A ten-year-old boy did this to me,” he said, pointing to his face. “A bloody child. He fought with more heart than any soldier I had ever faced on any battled field,” he pulled his eye patch back on and sheathed his sword. “If you ask me, it is you fools who have no idea what you are in for,” he said, storming off.

            Miya agreed with the optically challenged soldier. He had seriously questioned the effectiveness of the people he was going into battle with. Old farmers and peasant women, even some young boys who were not even old enough to be considered a man. There were some soldiers and some men with many years of experience. All of which spent countless hours training others. But when it came down to the battle, it was all heart. These people wanted the victory more. So many of them had lost so much. The Empire could take nothing more from them. They had surprised Miya over and over. They had proven that one truly free person defending what they believed in could be as good as ten armoured soldiers.

            However, this was nothing he had not learnt own his own. Miya had discovered very little in the soldiers’ quarters, except for the number of the men that it housed, and the number of men in the growing camp outside the city walls. He knew that once he reported the size of Victor’s army, anxiety would sweep through the council. The growing army well outnumbered the rebel forces eight to one.

            Miya took flight and headed up toward the palace. There was a ball in progress. It would be easy to get lost in the crowd, he thought. Miya landed in the shadows and transformed into the good Admiral Titus. So long as he did not run into himself, he was sure people would be more likely to give him information in this form. Miya entered the party and skirted the dancefloor, his eyes scanning the hall for other officers. He spotted a few talking to a much younger man wearing a crown. So, this was Victor, he thought. This was the infamous new Emperor. The man looked like a weasel, but so did the last one.

            Miya headed straight for the small group holding his head high, hoping to convey the same sense of arrogance and confidence as the real Admiral. “Ah, there you are, Fleet Admiral,” the Emperor addressed him with a smile. Fleet Admiral? It would seem his foe’s ambition was paying off. Titus was rising through the ranks at a staggering pace. “We were wondering where you had gotten to.”

            “The Major here suggested you had run off chasing a skirt,” a Field Marshal teased, pointing to a soldier with golden hair and what looked like a mostly healed burn on one side of his face.

            “Perhaps that is exactly where the good Fleet Admiral should be, chasing skirts. This is a military matter, not naval,” the General complained, glaring at him. So not everyone on this side of the war liked the Fleet Admiral either.

            “I will decide what is and is not important to whom,” the Emperor scolded. “I have no intention of fighting these blasted rebels for thirteen years like my predecessor,” he said. “The Fleet Admiral here is the only one of late to come out victorious against these devils. So, I will decide whether this concerns him, and I have decided that it does.”

            Interesting, Miya thought.

            “He is not a soldier,” the General argued.

            “A swordsman fights the same on a ship as he does on land,” the Emperor placed his arm around Miya’s shoulder and spoke to him as if he were speaking to an old friend. Miya was sure the familiarity was due to the wine he could smell on the Emperor’s breath. “Fleet Admiral, I have a plan I am sure you can appreciate. As it is, my army is vast, and I am sure we outnumber the rebels,” that was an understatement. “But as you know from experience, these blasted rebels have an aggravating knack for prevailing against long odds. So, I do not wish to leave anything to chance. I am going to call in every sailor from my armada. Every able-bodied fighting man from my fleets. They will join my soldiers on the battlefield, increasing the army’s strength tenfold. We will overwhelm them. We will drown them in a never-ending sea of soldiers. We will defeat them with sheer numbers,” he said, taking a drink from his wine. “I want you to lead the men I bring in from the ships. They know you. They trust you. I will be putting you in command,” he said, patting Miya on the back.

            “It is a perfect plan, Your Majesty,” the Field Marshal said, raising his mug. “And the slaves we will get from this will be well worth the effort.”

            “No,” the Emperor said flatly. “There will be no survivors. Take no prisoners. You will kill everyone. Every man, woman, and child that dares to take up arms against me. Burn everything. When this battle is over, I want nothing left but a pile of bodies and ash,” he said with a cruel smile. “Is that understood?”

            There was silence among the men, but each man nodded. Miya felt a heavy lump in his stomach as he thought of all those people in the camps being slaughtered. The Soldiers outnumbered them drastically as it was. If the sailors were to join them on the field, the rebels did not have a prayer.

            Miya watched as a young golden-haired woman approached and laced her arm around Victor’s openly. Miya was utterly stunned. This was not his wife. The men appeared uncomfortable, each trying to pretend as if they did not notice the brazen act. The General began a new topic of discussion while the woman thrust out her bottom lip in a pout and looked up at the Emperor. “Victor, darling, I am bored. Let us go upstairs,” she suggested. Miya could not believe he had heard those words come from the mouth of a Lady. Wait, he knew this woman. She was no Lady. She was the other princess. So, the Emperor was having an affair with the sister.

            Miya looked over his shoulder to see Gaia seated on her throne. She was watching the brazen interaction, then she rose to her feet and left the hall. “Go up without me, I shall be up soon,” Victor told her.

            “Fine,” she pouted. Miya was about to leave himself when a sparkle around her neck caught his eye. Around her neck, she wore a lovely teardrop-shaped red crystal pendant. Jade’s crystal pendant. This w***e wore his sister’s crystal. Victor must have found it among the old Emperor’s possessions and had not known what it was. He had given it to his mistress as a trinket.

            Miya watched as she mounted the tall staircase and went up to the next level. Miya quickly went outside, and, in the shadows, he transformed into an eagle and flew up to the windows above. He peered into each until he spotted the Emperor’s mistress strolling down the corridor. Miya flew in through the window behind her and landed, transforming into the Emperor himself.

            He quickly followed her down the corridor and reached for her, grabbing her arm. He stopped her where she was, and the Princess looked up at him startled. “Oh, Victor, you frightened me,” she laughed.

            “Sorry, darling,” he smiled. “But I just wanted to get this from you,” he said, reaching for the crystal he took it from around her neck, and she looked surprised.

            “What on earth for?” She demanded.

            “I’m going to give it to my other mistress,” he grinned.

            Her eyes narrowed with rage, and her hand flew up and slapped him hard. She stormed off, leaving him where he stood. Miya rubbed his stinging cheek. He might have taken the hit, but Victor would be the one to suffer for it later. That was enough to have made it worth it. Miya looked at the red crystal in his hand with a grin. He needed to find Jade. He had not felt her in the soldiers’ quarters anywhere. She must have been moved. Miya put her crystal around his neck and tucked it inside his tunic. There might be one person he could ask that might be able to help him find Jade.     

***

            The door fell closed behind her, and Gaia rested her back against it. She wanted to cry. She hated that man. He had no heart, no decency; he did not care if he made a mockery out of her. It was not fair. He could openly flaunt his infidelity, but if she was to take a lover, she could be charged with treason and be beheaded. It was terribly unfair. She was to spend the rest of her life alone and humiliated by this man.

            Gaia marched over to the vanity and sat down. She removed the crown from her head and placed it on top of the pillow on the table and began to pull the many pins from her hair. She would not cry for this man. She would not let it do her in. She would be stronger than this, she told herself. Placing the pins on the table, Gaia let her long golden hair fall down her back. She reached for the silver comb on the table and began to drag it through her hair.

            At least her father had the decency to be discreet when he repeatedly betrayed her mother. She envied Jade so much. Things with Titus may not have been perfect, but she had been given the opportunity to know what it felt like to be held by a man, to be desired. However brief it might have been, no one could rob her of those memories, of those moments, of those feelings.

            The only thing Gaia had that could compare was the brief kiss she had shared with an escaping prisoner. She smiled as she recalled the feel of his lips on hers. It had felt like fire spreading through her body. Even now, she could feel her cheeks flush with heat at the memory. Gaia placed the comb down on the table. She was ridiculous, dwelling on something that never was and never would be. It was not like the man was going to drop out of the sky and appear in her bed chambers.

            A light thump on the balcony caught Gaia’s attention. What on earth could that have been? Her balcony was far too high for anyone to have climbed up. Was it possible a poor bird had flown into the wall? Gaia rose from her vanity and crossed to the open doors leading out onto the dark balcony. The evening moon was the only light on this dark night. She stepped out onto the white stone balcony and looked out over her city.

            “It is quite the view,” a male voice said from the shadows behind her.

            Gaia panicked and spun around, her heart pounding wildly. From the shadows, she saw two bright amber eyes. Her pulse slowed, and she took a step forward to get a better look. Was it possible, had he come back? She could not believe he would risk coming back into this palace with all these soldiers trolling the area. “Miya?”

            He stepped out of the shadows, looking as good as the day she had last seen him. Tall and handsome, with dark hair and broad shoulders. It really was him. She smiled, surprised to see him, and a bit embarrassed by the thoughts that had been going through her mind just moments before. He offered her a dazzling smile, and she almost melted. “You remember me.”

            “How could I forget?” Gaia said, remembering that she had let her hair down. She was indecent. Gaia quickly headed back into her chambers, searching for some pins to put her hair back up in an attempt to make herself presentable.

            She paused when she felt his hand on hers to stop her. Miya took the pins from her hands and tossed them back onto the table. “Please do not fuss on my account,” he said, turning her around. “You are beautiful the way you are,” he smiled down at her. His gaze held hers for a long time, and Gaia felt an incredible urge to kiss him. For a moment, she thought he might.             

            Gaia turned away and walked around the table. She felt the need to put some distance between them. It was highly improper for her to have a man in her bed chambers. “Why are you here? It is so dangerous.”

            “I have come in search of my sister,” he said. “I could not find her in the soldiers’ quarter,” Miya explained, watching her pace. She should have known he had come for Jade. She wondered how he would react if she was to tell him, his beloved sister was, at this moment, likely romping through the garden of earthly delights with the Fleet Admiral. She did not think he would be the type to accept his sister’s romance in stride. “I was hoping you might know where she has been. Since you assisted me once, I took a chance that you might help me again.”

            “I could call for the palace guard,” Gaia said, eyeing him.

            Miya grinned with such confidence. “If that were the case, you would have called for them already,” he playfully called her bluff as he looked around. “I am surprised to find you have no chambermaid to help you prepare for bed,” he said, observing that she had been alone and had not needed to send anyone away.

            “Normally, I do,” she said. “Your sister has been serving as my maid, but I told her I did not need her this evening. I wished to be alone. I do not know where she is. She will not return until the morning,” she informed him, coming around the vanity and pausing by the bed.

            His gaze followed Gaia, fixed on her. She felt as if he could see right through her dress. Miya moved slowly toward her. “Then, perhaps I might serve in her place,” he offered, sending shivers of excitement through her body as he came up behind her. She felt his fingers begin to work the buttons of her gown free. She could hardly breathe as Miya’s hands moved up her back and over her shoulders, pushing the sleeves of her gown down and off. She should not allow him to undress her.

            “This is improper,” Gaia whispered as she felt his lips press lightly against her neck and shoulders. It felt like butterfly wings fluttering against her skin. It was so wonderful she did not wish to stop him.

            “What is improper is that you are alone,” Miya whispered, his fingers working the laces of her corset loose. “You are far too beautiful to be left to waste away, untouched,” he pushed her dress to the floor and pulled her corset free. Gaia felt his strong hands on her shoulders as he turned her around and lifted her into his arms. Her heart was beating so loudly as he lay her back against the bed and knelt on the mattress beside her. “Let me show you the wonders between a man and a woman.”

            Gaia sighed breathlessly as she stared up into Miya’s bright burning eyes. “You should go, it is not safe.”

            “I am going nowhere until morning.”