A Tale Of Two Kingdoms Ch 02

Ysabel barely heard his words. Everything about him made her feel weak and sick with attraction and his harshly but beautiful carved face flushed with passion was almost as seducing as his caress.

He was like no man she had ever seen before. The men in her village were mostly sons of farmers and tradesmen and such. In short, lithe, boyish and inoffensive males. And then there was Damon. There was nothing lithe about his form. He was devastating and something very stubborn within her wanted him badly even though she didn't understand quite what for. But it didn't take very long for her to that part figure out.

Turning her face away from him just as his lips descended once more, her cheek colliding against his seeking lips, she urged him to let her down. In response, Damon grunted an unintelligible word before cupping the back of her head, crushing her hair in his large hand, and manoeuvring her face back toward his.

"Unhand me," she resisted his insistent demand. She reared away from his questing mouth, her previously languorous expression hardening and she fully began to appreciate where this could lead. She wasn't that naïve.

"Don't play games with me, girl -- I'm in no mood for it today," Damon's heated, impatient and slightly slurred voice -- whether from intoxication or passion, she hardly knew -- made her melt and she felt shame. No man had ever made her feel so submissive and desperate to be his; certainly not her. And though she technically could claim an old acquaintance with this man before her, they may well have never have met. He was nothing like the boy she fondly and distantly recalled.

"I play no games -- I merely wish to settle the terms."

"Terms?" Damon frowned, stroking a frustrated but surprisingly gentle thumb across her slightly swollen lips.

Shaking his hand off impatiently, Ysabel said in the firmest tones she could muster, "The terms of my whoring for you."

"Payment later," Damon said in equally as firm tones, quite surprising her although she noted that his grip on her had loosened slightly at her mercenary demand.

"I can pay," he informed her, before arrogantly tossing his head at the low mattress pushed against the wall. "But mind that you don't keep me frustrated too long -- I'll not be short changed by a cunning minx."

"Philipe did inform me that you were a bit tight when it came to paying out for services rendered," she mused, vaguely recalling the face of the man who had given her access to Damon. Though her body was still suffering the effects of his disturbing caress, she was no longer shaking with it nor was her mind as foggy. This gave her enough confidence to face him unflinchingly as he pinned her with a disgusted look.

His expression became quite unmoved then. Gone was the heavy lidded look and hot eyes. "It turns out you're right," he said then in short tones. "I find myself a little light of pocket after all. I'm afraid you're going to have to find your nights wages on some other pallet."

At that, he let her down and turned away.

Somewhat surprised at the speedy capitulation, Ysabel watched him cautiously as he shrugged on a shirt, apparently dismissing her. Of course she felt relief wash over her. It would seem the man who frequently lay with whores and gained equally relish in slaying men had some dignity after all if he was turned off by the knowledge that his friend had already had her. The distaste on his face before had been plain to see.

As she scurried to the door, she cursed herself over the very displeasing fact that relief was not the first emotion that had hit at his words. Rather, it has been acute disappointment. Her mind cursing her heatedly for her shamefulness, Ysabel started hard at the heavy hand that fell on her shoulder. She turned and regarded the lumbering form before her warily, her hand still on the door knob.

"The man you're working for -- tell him I don't need any more persuading. Tell him," he paused and looked away from her, focusing on the stone wall briefly. The small chamber was dark and lit only by the fire in the grate and a few candles flickering and the shadows clinging to his sharply carved features made him look aged. "Tell him he won't gain my obedience," the last was said with heavy irony, "by employing his minions to sway me."

Ysabel nodded slowly, bemused. "I'll tell him."

Damon nodded once before waving a hand. "Well, go on," he dismissed her.

Having covered himself up, one would have thought she would be able to react to him now with perfect ease. But with only his eyes on her, watching her, he made her feel nervous and light-headed with the attention he was paying her, even if it was no longer in an impassioned light. In fact, he looked quite indifferent.

Just as she re-entered the hub of the excitement again-- which felt like another lifetime ago now -- she wasn't surprised when she looked over her shoulder to see him tailing her. She had heard his heavy tread behind her and had forced herself to stay as unaffected as he was to her -- but, oh! What questions she wanted to ask him; who was trying to persuade him to do what? And what had led him to joining the Sydnam army -- running it, but all accounts?

It was the last thought that left a bad taste in her mouth. When she thought back to the few boys in her village who had left long ago to join the army, she felt sickened for she knew what their views has been and their reason behind enrolling. How could Damon choose to lay done his life for such a historically prejudiced regime? But she knew he wasn't like those tormenting boys from her childhood. He had been quietly dignified in his own way those many years ago.

And then, despite herself -- as she had been doing all day -- she felt her mind whirring, trying greedily to remember every moment and every conversation from their brief, long ago relationship. What would be the point in telling him who she was? No doubt he would not remember something which had been so insignificant in his, clearly, long and colourful life.

"You needn't see me out," she said in arch tones over her shoulder.

"Need I not? Well, you'll not linger about here if I have anything to say about it. I want you away and I want you to tell your employer that I want to be left alone until I'm ready to give my answer."

As they crossed through the room, those who were still sober enough to have notice of their surroundings made way for the unexpected appearance of their commander to their late night revelries.

"Ah -- so you found him," a deep voice called over the fast dwindling noise of the room. Damon's formally steady pace through the room stopped.

"Zanders," his voice was short.

"Finished with her already? I thought you'd be pleased -- she's not one to turn your nose up to," Philipe stated with eyes running over her appreciatively.

Damon snorted. "I never been keen to taste your leftovers before -- I'm not about to start."

Feeling humiliated and desperate to be out of here, back in her warm bed where things were plain and ordinary and safe, Ysabel snapped -- "If you don't mind, I have places to be."

They were developing quite an audience - an audience who probably saw nothing more than a whore dangling her wares between two men and thought made her feel sick.

Ysabel nodded curtly at Damon before turning on her foot but before she'd cleared a good few steps, the face of one particular solider-- still decked out in the Royal colours of Sydnam - amongst the fellow gawkers, made her throat contract.

"Lukas," she whispered, shaking her head in bemusement as the furious face of her brother approached her.

*

"My God, Ysabel!"

Stiffening at the enraged shout, Ysabel stared at her brother warily knowing he had clearly heard enough to get a general gist of the situation. Or the perceived situation, at least.

"You know this female?" Damon asked slowly. Clasping his hands behind him, he waited patiently for a response and Ysabel pressed her lips together in mild fear at the violent expression on her brothers face as he tried to control himself.

"She is my sister, commander."

With brow furrowed, Damon glanced at her before his eyes narrowed in confusion. Then, he nodded sharply back towards the corridor leading to the rooms. "Come." He said, before striding away.

*

Back in Damon's room once more, than man in question questioned; "Caselle?"

"You seem confused, commander," her brother's voice was sardonic and cold. "Perhaps you remember visiting my family some summers ago," Lukas spoke in detached tones, much at odds with what he spoke of; childhood and memories. "You were introduced to my sister then, I recall."

"Yes," Damon replied. "Yes," he repeated, in some bemusement. "But..." his brows jerked downwards. "Then that is how you knew me," he pinned Ysabel with a hard stare that spoke of disbelief at her audacity.

At his accusing glance her look became defiant. "And yet you led me to believe that you were some spy," he continued.

"I never did -- you assumed it for yourself!" his rudeness brought forth her own.

"Yet you never corrected me," he pointed out, seeming somewhat taken aback at her fervour, his expression suggesting that he expected her to be meek and cowering in his displeased presence. "And had you informed me who you were since you more than remembered me -- I would not have-" Damon paused and his glance drifted over to Lukas. In clear tones, he said. "I would not have treated her as I did. For that, I apologize," he gave a stiff nod. "There was no excuse -- well, if I may, I would say that it was the effects of the ale that made me act so...uncontrolled. I hope you will accept my words."

Ysabel stared at his awkwardness in surprise but when she realised he was serious, she lifted her shoulders.

"Why didn't you say something, for all that's holy? Why didn't you tell me who you were?" no longer as tempered, Damon asked.

"You didn't give me much chance for explanation, what with the instant mauling that met my arrival." She took a deep breath as she became worked up, ignoring her brothers sputter of outrage at her words. "However, that's in the past now and I accept your apology," she declared magnanimously.

"That still doesn't explain why you are here in the first place," Lukas bit out behind her.

Looking away in some embarrassment, Ysabel met Damon's equally as inquiring expression.

Feeling her face heat at the speculation in both men's eyes she said. "Don't look at me like that, Lukas -- don't you condemn me after what you've been doing. The army! Why, Lukas? Why have you lied all of these years? Physician, you said -- and all along...all along you've been fighting against our people!"

Damon snorted. "If I recall correctly, your loyalties run both ways. And we've never taken up arms against Naru. Nor would we have any reason to."

"You must have a very short memory then," Ysabel retorted fiercely, looking the man squarely in the eyes. "how can my brother wish to lay down his life for a regime that wouldn't even have allowed us to be classed as people because of who our mother was, once upon a time?"

Damon looked at her and that look in his eyes for that briefest moment made her certain he was remembering her tormenters. "Yes, well that's history now - joining the army is about more than just loyalties...it's a good place for a man to learn discipline and control. Besides, Sydnam doesn't stand beside that same ideology now."

"You've always been...patriotic," Lukas said then, shaking his head. "I knew you would be like this - do you understand now why I didn't tell you?"

"Don't pretend that's the sole reason!" she strode up to and stopped inches before her brother, his face, on closer inspection, so changed by the years. "Years, Lukas -- you've been away for years! A letter once or twice a year and nothing more...you have a brother who you've met but a few times in your life! You selfish-"

Taking her by the shoulders and forgetting completely that this familial scene were happening before his commander, Lukas tried to appeal to her. "What good would me staying have done? After mama died-" he shook his head angrily. "Look, I don't have to answer to you -- but you're right, I should have visited you more. But I so hate that woman," he muttered bitterly.

By that woman, she knew he referred to their step mother. But really, he had barely spoken two words to her -- she was the one who had to live with her! Her anger at Lukas for joining the Sydnam army was real enough -- he had been on route to be a physician - it had been their mother's keenest, dearest wish for him and that was what made it all the more sadder.

But what really angered her the most was how he had abandoned her. After their mother had died in childbirth, the baby with her, everything had become grey and dull. Her father became withdrawn and it was Lukas who looked after her. But when he went back to school each term, she had been so very alone. Her mother, she realised, had been her entire world. In a place where she had few friends and many adversaries, she had still managed to flourish somewhat under her parent's warm attentions. Her father had never quite recovered. And then he had married.

"If the pair of you are quite finished," Damon queried and Lukas looked quite shamed at the man's sarcastic tones.

"Of course, sir," he nodded, swiftly letting go of Ysabel and taking a step back. He then proceeded to clasp his arms behind his back and stand to attention. "But I need to know what my sister was doing here. I'm afraid I can't let something like that slip. I am responsible for her here. If you did not know who she was, how was that Ysabel knew who you were?"

"The bracelet," Lara sighed in exasperation, knowing he wouldn't let it drop nodding at Damon's wrist. "I made him for it. It would make sense therefore that I would recall it," she glanced at Damon in surprise then, "but...you still wear it -- why?" she looked at him in some appeal. What could it mean? She had wondered since she had seen him. Had he worn it because he remembered their tentative friendship of years ago? Did he wear it because he believed it would protect him? Her heart clenched at such a thought and it made him seem more human. She waited eagerly.

Damon's arms unfurled from across his chest and his expression became almost...sheepish. Lukas snorted

"I-" He stopped and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said then, his voice and face firmer once more and ever stern.

"What?" Ysabel asked staring from her brother smirk and Damon's uncomfortable face. "Tell me."

"It's not important," Damon dismissed. "But from your story I can see now that you sought to play games with me -- with your deliberate withholding of your identity and your still unrepentant face. What would your father say if he knew you were here?" he bit off in some disgust, his expression now almost of an elder admonishing a petulant child so much so that it was hard to imagine the same man had displayed such urgent passions for her before. "It would seem," he finished, "that you are in desperate need of some discipline. No daughter of an upstanding family should carry on so."

"And no man of any honour would make the kind of invitation that you did," she raised a challenging brow, refusing to feel shame but feeling it filter though her anyway.

A light stain marred his cheekbones at her words and both Ysabel and her brother, she noticed, seemed to find fascination at the sight of him uncomposed. He bit out in frustration, "I did not know-"

"Yes, well we could go over this all night," Ysabel interrupted rudely. "Let us be thankful that what could have been a shameful situation ended when it did. No thanks to you, of course."

"Ysabel," Lucas said in low, warning tones, before saying much louder, "She means no offence, you must understand -- I am sure you can appreciate her mood -- all of our moods -- have been somewhat sparked by this...incident. You were not to know, commander, as you so rightly said, who my sister was. Perhaps we should leave you now. If you would permit?" Far from angered and fighting her corner, her brother was know seeking to pacify and placate the man and the realisation made Ysabel uncomfortable.

"Yes but before you go - you have news for me?" Damon said over his shoulder, turning toward his bed and bending down to perch on it. He leaned his back against the wall and regarded Lukas with a direct and steady glance.

Lukas glanced at Ysabel briefly. "Await me outside, sister."

Needing no urging to leave this hub of much humiliation, Ysabel escaped before he had fully issued the dictate.

*

Pressing her face against the cold stone wall, Ysabel stared at the door musingly. She should have been more surprised, she determined when Lukas had appeared before her dressed in the royal colours of the Kingdom. But it wasn't his friendship with Damon that had led him here, clearly, as whatever relationship the two had once had was now clearly well in the past and confined to stay there.

My God, she thought, closing her eyes wearily and pushing her heated face further against the wall. To think I had protested coming to Sydnam, blissfully unaware of my brothers whereabouts and I would never have known. And then there was Damon. She had never thought to see him again, or paid any mind to wanting to. Even now she had to force herself to remember that the person she had been lazily communicating with over the years was the enigma that stood behind the stone wall she hugged so closely.

Starting in surprise, she jerked away from the wall as the door opened and looked uncertainly at Lukas's bland expression. He closed the door behind him and was silent for a moment.

"Were you listening?" he nodded toward the wall.

"No! I was merely hot and cooling my face."

He frowned suspiciously and caught her arm and pulling her along the corridor.

"Do I want to know how you came to be here?"

"Dana is to be married -- you remember that aunt of her? The horrible, pretentious one? Well she moved near the city a little while ago and she's keen to introduce her to all of the fine, well bred sons of her acquaintances. It's sickening."

Lukas said nothing for a long moment but when he next stopped, he nodded toward the door. "Not here in Sydnam -- though I did wonder. No, my immediate concern as a brother was why my little sister was in lodgings with such ill-repute as this -- and well after she should have been tucked under fluffly blanket. And with the commander."

"It's all so complicated -- I hardly understand myself," she lifted her shoulders vaguely.

"Then edit," he persisted in hard tones.

"We were in the market-place," she obliged at his prodding. "Madsen and I -- and then the soldiers passed through and you know how excitable Madsen gets when-" she stopped abruptly. He knew nothing about the boy.

At her expression he at least had the decency to look away. "Go on," his voice has a slight edge to it.

"And then Damon saw me and -- and asked me to come by tonight. That's all," she said in resigned tones.

Lukas's face was grim. "That's not all. He didn't know who you were -- how could he? It's been years...and I heard the conversation between he and Philipe..." he trailed off looking at her tellingly.

Ysabel blushed furiously. "It was all Madsen's fault really. Apparently, our brother is The Executioners number one fan..."

"I suppose father is here in the city too?" Lukas changed the subject swiftly.

"That's right."

"I'll come by tomorrow."

"That would be nice," Ysabel paused. "He'll be happy to see you."

"And now, I have to talk to you about something-- it's important." He pulled stopped before a random door and pushing her inside a sparely furnished, drab room.