Chapter 7
Mistale stretched under the weight of soft fur blankets, luxuriating in their warmth. She hugged the pillow wrapped in her arms and snuggled into it contentedly. The pillow exhaled and hugged back. Her eyes flew open and connected with those of Azlorik's.
"Master!" She cried, embracing him tighter, wrapping her arms and legs around him tightly. "You're alive!" It wasn't that he was alive that excited her. It was the fact that she'd still have the opportunity to kill him herself. She longed for that moment, craved it more than any she'd ever hoped for.
Azlorik cocked an eyebrow and pulled away from her. What had brought on such joy to his usually sedate little slave girl? That quandary puzzled him. "Yes, I'm alive. Is there any reason why I shouldn't be, slave?"
She licked her lips and exhaled nervously. She had to tell him the truth this time. She couldn't bear another beating with the whips. "Your twin. He came in here. He tried to bed me. He spoke of arranging your death. He said he could keep me safe from the Matron."
"I am aware of that, slave. His trap failed. Grumazz is dead. Is there anything else I should know?"
Mistale shook her head, unable to think of anything else. He watched her closely, scrutinizing her every move, every blink of the eye, and every breath she inhaled. She was telling the truth this time yet something malicious still festered within her. She was still plotting her revenge against him. He could easily decipher her wayward thoughts and chuckled to himself. She still sought his death and nothing less than delivering it herself would suffice for her.
"You're learning your place then, slave, and for that I shall grant you a boon. Tell me what you desire and I will consider bringing it to fruition for you," he purred as he covered her with his body.
She flinched, looking away. "I ask for nothing, Master. There is nothing I desire. Nothing short of my freedom."
Nothing short of your death
.
He turned her face back to his and focused upon her blazing emerald eyes. "I won't grant you that, but I have something else in mind. Come with me, slave."
He pulled her off the bed and drew a couple scrolls from within a case. He concentrated on one, chanting the words upon it. And with a flourish of hands, the room around them disappeared. When she'd finally reoriented herself, she exclaimed with glee. A warm brisk breeze wafted across her face while silvery moonlight fell upon the darkness surrounding them.
He'd brought them to the forest she'd been in when she caught the scent of something amiss. This was the forest she'd viewed the Orcs in, the very same she'd hunted wild game. The place she'd gathered her herbs to heal Azlorik with. She danced around the small clearing, delighting in the moon and stars above her.
Azlorik watched her every move intently. He gave her time to frolic and play before he swept her back to his suites. "You have not thanked me yet for my generosity."
Mistale threw her arms around him and pressed herself against him, kissing him breathlessly. He pushed her away roughly. "That is enough, slave. I suppose I will have to teach you what I mean by a proper thank you, but not at this moment. There is something I must see to. I expect you to be kneeling in front of the bed when I return. Then I shall instruct you on proper thanks."
Mistale shivered. He made it sound so ominous. "Yes, Master," she curtseyed and knelt down in front of the bed. "I shall be right here when you return."
He patted the top of her head. "Good slave." And then he was gone.
O.O
Azlorik paused before the door of his brother's rooms, mentally considering whether he should blow them wide open or not. The choice was made for him when the double door's swung wide open. Azlorik could see Azlesaonar standing in the middle of the room before him, poised to strike like a coiled snake.
Azlorik marched into the room and pulled the heads of the Orcs from his pack. He tossed each one of them at his twin's feet. "You'll have to try harder next time, dear brother. Grumazz failed. Grumazz is nothing but a pile of fine dust upon the cavern floor." He drew the weapons from the pack, holding each within his hands.
"You are full of surprises, aren't you, my twin? I must have underestimated you this time. Fear not, I won't make that mistake again. If you'd have given me the girl like I asked for, this wouldn't be a problem."
"Says you? I don't believe that you really desire my slave, so tell me the real reason you want her so bad."
Azlesaonar shook his head. "That's my business, but let's just say I see something special in her. Now get out before I spill your secret to Matron Mother. I will have her, brother. You mark my words."
Azlorik laughed and threw an insolent grin at his brother. "Not if I kill her first." Then he disappeared from sight completely.
Azlesaonar hissed, calling upon the purple flames to outline his brother's retreating form, but he was nowhere to be seen. He hissed in frustration and kicked one of the Orc heads, watching it roll across the floor. He'd kill his brother, he would succeed, even if it was the last thing he ever did.
O.O
"I'll be gone a few days, slave," Azlorik informed Mistale one morning several days later. "You'll have some peace for a while. I give you run of the suite, but you will not be able to leave here. Nor will anyone else be able to enter. This especially means by brother. But if some miracle that someone does invade these rooms and you fail to tell me upon my return, then it will not bode well for you. You will suffer greatly as will the one who foolishly came in here. I give you permission to use whatever magic you have to feed yourself and heal your wounds. I expect a pleasant greeting when I get return."
She nodded her head. "Yes, Master."
"I've created a room you can bathe in, which is through those doors. They are unlocked now. I give you permission to wear this in my absence, but you may not have it on when I return. Are we understood, slave?" Azlorik barked, outlining his wishes for her.
She curtseyed before him, accepting the silky dressing gown from him. "Yes, Master, it will be so."
"Now little Mistale, give your Master a kiss," he purred sensuously.
She gaped at him for a moment, gaped because he'd used her name instead of referring to her as 'slave.' She recovered quickly and wrapped her arms around him, offering up her lips to him for a tender kiss. He deepened it, his tongue invading her mouth. His arms caressed her, drawing her very close to him. "Good slave," he murmured against her mouth before he pulled away from her. He stroked her hips and bottom very possessively. "I shall return. Do not disappoint me."
She nodded and watched as he left the room. Azlorik stopped a moment to magically ward the door and room, making it impenetrable. If all went well, Matron Mother would be very pleased. He knew he dared not fail this time. Too much was at stake. Surely Matron Mother would make good on her threat to kill him or worse yet, turn him into a drider. He certainly didn't want that.
Casting another spell, he teleported himself out of the Dryaalis complex and headed across the cavern that housed the City of T'larghaun. He knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He cast another teleport, hoping to throw off anyone who might be watching or following. This time he made the jump to a side cavern where within waited a small band of highly trained houseless Drow males. These rebels, exiles and renegades only gave their allegiance if the price was right. He'd paid them what they asked, knowing they were expendable, but would get the job done.
He pulled out a map of the Naerth complex, laying it upon a flat topped rock, and outlined his plan. He made sure members of the attack squad knew exactly what their goal was. He knew what he had to do. The Matron would be pleased that he launched a surprise attack against House Naerth before they could mobilize against House Dryaalis. She would be even more pleased when he gave her the ultimate gift.
O.O
