Amidst the clashing of weapons and men grunting in the practice yard, Derzan swung his axe. The blade impacted with a shield and he spun with the impact to avoid the slice of a sword. Completing the turn, he lifted his blade over his head in preparation for an overhand strike.
"Derzan."
He paused, axe in the air, and turned his head to the side to keep one eye on his sparring partner. Rugen was the type to take advantage of a distraction.
Demus, the general of the army, stood in the shade of a doorway onto the practice grounds. "Pahil wants to see you." The man was big, for someone mostly human, and he didn't look pleased to be playing messenger. Although, his black eyes were always empty in his pale, skeletal face. The man never looked pleased.
Derzan lowered the axe to his shoulder and shut his resentment at being summoned into a mental box.
Pahil owned the witch who spelled Derzan and his men. In return for that service, they provided mercenary work. It was one thing those with minotaur in their blood were good for. Without the witch's magic to spread the poison that their hearts sent through their bodies with every beat, they'd all have died years ago.
More failures.
It rankled to have to rely on the power hungry psycho. What would he order done this time? Although the work enabled Derzan and his hoard to live, living with what Pahil ordered them to do was harder each time. His love of perversion and power knew no bounds.
A headache formed between the stubs where Derzan's horns used to be, but he resisted the urge to rub his brow. Losing them had been the initial price of the witch's magic. If the minotaurs stepped out of line, the witch could use their horns to inflict spells on them.
Derzan wiped the sweat from his forehead on a sleeve. His men paused their sparring. He waved at them to continue as he sheathed his axe and headed toward Demus. Pahil would have to accept his less than pristine condition.
They entered the hallway of white marble walls inlaid with gold. No expense had been spared to construct Pahil's monument to himself -- a five story palace built in a place ripped from the jungle one tree at a time and ruthlessly kept tamed.
In the throne room, a man with Demus' looks, but a smaller stature, stood to the left of the throne. Like the minotaurs, the brothers Demus and Jikol shared an affliction of their hearts. Not poison, since they couldn't be bound to Derzan and his hoard, but something was killing them.
The leather clad, wild-bearded barbarian, Baje, a recent addition to Pahil's court, didn't look afflicted, nor did he have anyone he was bonded to. Not that he'd brought to court, anyway. That probably made him the smartest of all of them. Once Pahil knew what was valued, that was what he targeted.
Pahil occupied his throne -- a golden chair on a dais. His great bulk was draped in golden robes and crown. He hardly glanced up as Derzan and Demus took their places on either side of him.
Black hood up, arms crossed, and hands tucked into wide flowing sleeves, the incubus, Haqu, stood in front of Pahil. Behind him, the rest of the throne room stood empty except for the posts and chains Pahil used to keep his witches bound.
"You've tested the new witch Baje acquired." Pahil's voice oozed anticipation. "Tell us."
Derzan stiffened. Normally, he was sent to retrieve witches. Had Pahil figured out what Derzan and his men were doing? That couldn't be it. They'd all be dead if Pahil even suspected betrayal.
Haqu nodded. "She sees visions of the future."
"On command?"
"She can be... guided." Haqu shook his head. "But there is more detail when the sight happens naturally."
Will she be able to tell others of the visions?"
"No. She won't reveal what she says when she's Seeing."
"Very well. Bring in the new witch."
The incubus bowed and went to a side door, returning moments later leading a young woman by the hand. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders to her waist. Wide green eyes took in the men arrayed around the room. Her translucent pale blue, gauzy gown with high slits displayed almost all of her sienna-hued skin and hugged her curves, fluttering around her small feet as she scooted closer to Haqu.
"It's all right." Incubus magic wove through the air. "No one here will harm you."
That wasn't true. If the king decided pain would get him what he wanted, every man present would hurt the Seer. But incubus magic calmed her, and she relaxed.
Leading her to the middle of the room, Haqu turned the besotted woman to face Pahil.
"Show us what the Seer can do." Pahil twitched his fingers in an impatient get-on-with-it gesture.
Haqu kissed her. Her eyes fluttered closed. She made a needy sound in her throat and pressed herself against him.
Pahil leaned forward. The power of the incubus was one of his favorite weapons. Seeing helpless women humiliated with sex fed some twisted desire in him.
The Seer stiffened in Haqu's arms and pulled back from their kiss. He caught her chin in his fingers, forcing her gaze to his. "Relax, kitten."
She did, eyes going distant. The Seer responded readily to Haqu's lure. That was how he kept her obedient, and could guarantee she would remember nothing of what she saw.
"How would you like to her shown?"
"Naked and chained."
Of course. That's how Pahil wanted to see all witches. Although he wielded magic as power, he hated magic and all those who could wield it.
Haqu led the Seer to the posts, urged her to spread her legs, and shackled her ankles, then reached up to close her wrists into manacles, leaving her in a tight X.
She wore a beatific, calm smile throughout being restrained, and when Haqu untied the strings at her neck to let her dress fall to her waist, revealing high, full breasts tipped with dark nipples.
He untied the strings at her hip so the material pooled on the floor between her feet, revealing long, toned legs, and a high, narrow waist curving to shapely hips.
Keeping one hand on her bared skin, Haqu circled behind her and slid his hands over her. Spread as she was, all she could do was take his attentions. He cupped her breasts and toyed with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers before giving them sharp pinches hard enough to make her cry out.
Her head fell back onto his shoulder as he left her breasts to run his hands down her ribs and waist to her hips. He caressed her thighs, stroking down the outside, then drawing his fingers up her inner thighs, making her squirm in her bondage.
He drew a finger down her spine and she arched, then he slipped his fingers between her legs and she gasped as he played with her pussy. With his free hand, he fisted her hair and pulled.
