Page 66 of Poisoned Empire

“One mage cannot enchant the weapons of an entire army overnight. At present, have her focus on the arrows for the archers remaining in the palace. But keep this a secret. If things do go badly, neither she, nor her weapons, can fall into the hands of our enemies. From now on, I want her here at relevant meetings, and I want her security to be a high priority.”

With a mind for unconventional weapons, her ideas could help shape his plans. Thank the gods Magister Sapphire hadn’t realized her talents.

“I understand, Your Royal Highness.” Marduk replied.

“And Marduk?”

“Yes, Your Royal Highness?”

“I…” He paused, unsure how to tell his oldest friend and the only brother he’d ever known how much he’d feared losing him. “You’re not allowed to die on me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. If that is all, I’ll see to my tasks.”

Marduk smiled as he rose and bowed before leaving.

The next few days would be busy and tense, but the true test would come when the magistri replied to their invitations. Either they would revolt, which would mean war, or they would walk into his trap. But even if they came, he would not relax until he had their heads on pikes and he knew none of their blindly loyal allies or other opportunistic nobles would take up arms. Worse, he feared he was missing vitals pieces, not least the name of the mastermind behind it all. It was the attempted assassination of Marduk that didn’t fit neatly to their pattern thus far. How many more enemies had Belisarius failed to spot?

The magistri had been obscenely quiet. Had their daughters not been summoned, Belisarius might never have discovered the second and third players in this plot. Intelligence reports came to him daily informing him that neither the Amethyst nor Sapphire magistri were marshalling forces or making any moves whatsoever. Diamond was acting as carefree as he usually did, betting exorbitant sums on the chariot races and spending money he probably didn’t have.

Had the attack on his strategos been a desperate gambit to weaken him? Even under interrogation by the silver-tongue, the assassin had provided no useful information. Was there yet another enemy he hadn’t considered? Aside from the emperor, the entirety of his family resided in the Ruby Province, banished from Nadioch in the wake of his siblings’ deaths to prevent ambitious relatives from setting their eyes on a weakened throne. Their communications, associations, grudges and ambitions had been discreetly analysed by Nicephorus’ men, all without producing a viable suspect for the role of traitor. It was enough to make him tear at his hair.

Belisarius rose from his seat and stretched his aching back. It was nearly time to change for the evening’s festivities. He had a few hours yet to rest his body and mind. Using a private passageway, he made his way to his chamber, glad that he’d told his servants to leave him be until it was time to be presentable.

“Your secret exit is behind a tacky sculpture? That’s just sad, peacock.”

Belisarius cursed. How in the hells had she snuck in here? She laughed at his glare. Gods, it rankled. And yet, the sultry promise in her eyes had him strung tight with anticipation.

“What did you steal today?” he asked, removing his robe.

“Nothing… yet,” she replied slyly. She wore a thick cloak clasped at her neck. Beneath, he glimpsed a tantalizing hint of gauzy fabric.

“I’m shocked. Has my palace run out of shiny baubles to tempt you?” he asked as he removed his tunic, see-sawing between desire and annoyance.

“Oh, I’m not interested in baubles today. My prize is something else.”

“I’m sure you’re dying to tell me what it is,” he replied, his back turned. As her soft footsteps grew closer, the dull thud of heavy fabric hitting the floor made him catch his breath. She leaned in, the heat of her thinly clothed skin and pebbled nipples against his back setting him aflame. Her whisper in his ear made him ache.

“Well, I had planned on sullying the royal peacock’s virtue.”

He turned to the sight of her unlacing the ties on her nightgown, cloak at her feet. Her nipples grazed the fabric in hard, darkened points, the sheerness of the gown hiding nothing. Had she really worn that through the palace corridors? His hands fisted at his side to keep from dragging her to the floor.

“What says the peacock? Are you ready to be ruined?”

Belisarius lost himself in her amethyst eyes. Except there were dark smudges beneath them. He was about to ask, but the last tie had come undone and her gown slid to her feet. Bold and unashamed, she stood before him. When he stepped forward and pulled her close, her hand slid to his leggings, diving beneath the fabric and gripping him in her small hand.

“Don’t call me peacock,” he growled as she stroked him.

“Do you want to experience bliss?” she asked, ignoring his command as she stroked him harder. “Let me poison you.”

No man in his right mind would agree. Unfortunately, he was not in his right mind, because he was very close to agreeing to potentially dying of a poisoned cock. He must be mad.

“I promise to ruin you for every woman that comes after me,” she whispered, her eyes dark with lust as she gripped his hair in her hand, anchoring him. He hated it as she tugged on his hair, and yet he loved the sting of it. He rid himself of the last stitch of clothing.

“Do it,” he commanded.

She smiled, and then the most rapturous sensation sent him to his knees.

“What-” he gasped.

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