Page 30 of Poisoned Empire

“Our false dominae. You don’t suppose they know how to ride?”

Nicephorus’ hands tightened perceptibly on his sheaf of parchments.

“I must confess, I am unaware of the extent of their educations in that regard. Given what we know, it is unlikely.”

A farmer might have occasion to use an ox, a wealthy merchant a horse, but the imposters were neither. Belisarius groaned. How in the hells was he to make this charade work if Selene appeared to fail every test?

Sweat broke out across every inch of Selene’s skin as fear quickened her breath. It was as tall as a mountain, and doubtless had maimed at least a few of its former riders. She took a cautious step back. Marduk ran his hand along its wild mane. When it tossed its head and whinnied, she flinched. Selene was terrified of horses. Evil beasts.

She’d tried to convince herself, with the help of at least half a bottle of Lethe’s finest wine, that given enough libations, she’d be able to approach the damn creature. Except being a poison mage meant the desired effect would never occur and even in her panic she well knew it. If only she’d raided the royal stores of poison, she might’ve found one that acted long enough for her to mount the terrible creature. Iliana, the traitor, had been cautious at first, but seemed to get the hang of it just fine, making Selene feel even more foolish. A cruel torture invented by the prince, that’s what this was.

“I will do you anything you want, just don’t ask me to get near that thing.” Selene backed away, keeping her eyes on the horsey threat.

“Bucephalus is a fine horse and very even tempered. I’ve already assisted your friend and given her a quick lesson. Iliana was able at least to trot along quite well with very little trouble. Many of the women will use this as an excuse to flirt with the noblemen. You needn’t do any more than that today,” Marduk replied as he checked the straps on its saddle. Yes—he would need to do that, so when the beasty inevitably threw her, her ankle could tangle in the contraption. Then it would drag her to her death.

When Marduk approached with the outrageous intent of seating her atop it, Selene skated out of his reach.

“I won’t do it.”

“What could you possibly object to? Surely the fearsome poison mage isn’t terrified of horses?”

“When you’ve been run out of as many towns as I have… Let’s just say, I’ve got a taste for just how unpleasant it is to be hunted on horseback. Besides, I can see it’s got an evil streak. Just look at those shifty, horsey eyes! It’s going to try to eat my fingers and toes, I know it!”

“This isn’t negotiable, poison mage. Once you’re on his back, you’ll realise how ridiculous you’re being.” Marduk shifted side to side, arms akimbo, doing his best to corner her.

When his arms shot out, Selene ducked, dove between his legs and scrambled up, running as fast as she could manage. Thank the gods riding outfits necessitated form-fitting trousers.

Marduk was hot on her leather heels. When she turned a corner, she nearly ran over Domina Opal, along with a group of the other dominae. Being equivalent in height and surprisingly nimble, the island domina turned deftly out of Selene’s way. Her dark brow arched over black eyes with opalescent whites. She wore a red long-sleeved tunic over fitted silk trousers, her jet hair swept painfully tight up off her face. Only her red-painted lips provided colour to her otherwise porcelain-like paleness.

“Domina Amethyst!”

Selene spared a single glance as Marduk stumbled to a stop in front of the gaggle of highborn women. They busied themselves gasping and squeaking their indignant surprise. Knowing he was unlikely to plough through them, Selene fled. But soon, she found herself out of earshot and out of places to run. Horses lined the stable on both sides, all popping their enormous, terrible heads out to see who had been causing the commotion. The better to bite her, she was certain. The only stall without one was at the very end of the hall. She slid under the raised door and came face to face with something quite unexpected.

Iliana carefully guided her horse to stand beside the others. The dominae were in fine form, resplendent in their long-sleeved, embroidered silk riding outfits, sitting atop their beautiful mounts as though they’d been born there. It was as she sidled up amongst them that she caught the flavour of their gossip.

“Did you see her? She was positively spooked. I don’t think I’ve seen anything so disgraceful in some time.”

“Well, perhaps not since the first night when she swaggered up to the prince like a barbarian.”

Giggles rippled out.

“One should really pity the esteemed Magister Amethyst. I heard he’s kept her hidden most of her life. Her sisters may be dull, but at least they’ve managed to comport themselves like dominae. I doubt we’ll hear much of Domina Milena once the princess consort has been chosen.”

Iliana wanted to open her mouth in protest, but she was cut off by the fanfare of the prince’s entrance onto the grounds. His riding attire was smartly done in red and black, his long black hair braided and pinned. His horse was enormous, its jet coat glossy with health. The prince was kitted out with bow and quiver.

“Good afternoon, dominae. Today’s activity is a horseback hunt. There will be a prize for the woman with the most impressive kill—a private dinner with the man of her choosing. Those who do not wish to partake are free to ride along the more tended trails to the East of the hunting grounds. If you wish to participate, please let your attendant know, and you’ll be provided a bow and quiver with twelve arrows. Each set of arrows will have uniquely coloured fletches in order to pair each huntress with her kill. The competition will last three hours or until your quivers run out of arrows, whichever comes first. Happy hunting, my dear dominae!” The prince turned away before commanding his steed to dash into the woods in the distance. The picture he presented had a great many of the women sighing with appreciation.

A flurry of activity accompanied the prince’s departure, with many of the dominae deciding to compete. Iliana wondered if maybe the coloured fletches had been chosen in order to prevent a nefarious thinning of the herd. There was questionable wisdom in sending out a few dozen women with weapons into a thickly wooded area, especially when every one of them was hunting for beasts as well as a particular husband. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, Iliana opted to trot along safer paths. She only hoped Selene would decide to do likewise. Whenever she deigned to show up, that was.

Chapter 12

“Filthyfuckingmages.”

The stable smelled of fresh hay. Her own ragged breath was the only sound. Dim light filtered through windows too high for her to clamber through. Only Selene and the griffin were present in the stall. Had she just hallucinated? It didn’t feel like she’d come into contact with a novel poison, but she patted herself down all the same.

“Lost something, you dumb cow? Do cry for me. I’ve been longing to taste mage tears.”

The griffin lay on its stomach, its birdlike forelimbs folded in front of it while its leonine half lounged behind, its enormous wings folded up to cover most of its large body, fur blending seamlessly into feathers. Its head sported a wicked beak, intelligent eyes, sharply pricked, tufted ears, and, if she wasn’t mistaken, small, curled horns growing out behind them. It was magnificent to behold after all her years devouring whatever information she could about life beyond Lethe. Had it truly spoken?

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