Who Rules the King's Heart

Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Samael

Nathaneel awoke with a start to find himself lying on a bed on the cave floor. He stretched his arms languidly over his head, then sat up and breathed in the fresh morning air. He could smell a hint of pine on the breeze, the crisp scent of water from a nearby stream, and the sweet fragrance of mountain flowers. After so many weeks spent in the damp prison caves, it was as if his heart had been revived from near death. He was seeing the world as he had never seen it before – as though his senses had at last awakened from a deep slumber, to experience the world anew.

In spite of his newfound clarity of thought, his head ached, as did the muscles in his legs and arms. All at once it returned to him – the vivid dream, the feel of the two Shedim pressed against his body, his overwhelming lust. He shivered, almost breathless to remember it, and ill at ease to realize that the mere memory had physically aroused him. He glanced over at Michah, thankful that he was still asleep.

"You're tired," he told himself silently. "Seeing Michah tortured like that, begging for you to end his life…it's understandable that your mind might wander." He stood up silently and pulled his tattered uniform shirt on, fastening the few buttons that remained on it. He was a soldier; he would not be distracted from the mission at hand: to return his commanding officer safely to Shaeran.

He heard soft footfalls at the entrance of the cave, and he turned to see Seeraz standing there, holding a piece of wood with piles of berries and other food on it. Seeraz smiled, his silver eyes probing Nathaneel's face, almost as if the Shedim sought to hear what was in Nathaneel's thoughts. For an instant, Nathaneel wondered vaguely if Seeraz knew of what he had dreamed. Then, realizing he was being foolish, he laughed silently at himself – such a thing was, of course, impossible.

"You plan to leave today," said Seeraz, kneeling and setting the food on the floor by Nathaneel's bed; he looked sad.

"Yes," Nathaneel replied. "I must see Michah safely home."

"We cannot convince you to stay, Nat-an-nyl?" the Shedim asked him.

"No. But you have been very kind to us. Thank you."

A moment or two passed, as Nathaneel chewed with surprising zeal on some of the food, finding himself far hungrier than he realized. "What do you see in him?" Seeraz asked finally, picking one of the berries up and rolling it about on his tongue.

For a moment, Nathaneel did not understand Seeraz's meaning. Then, realizing the Shedim spoke of Michah, he replied only, "He is a good man and a fine superior."

Seeraz looked at him, confused by Nathaneel's response, then shrugged. "You must see that he eats something, your sup-eeh-reyr," stumbling over the term as if completely unfamiliar with it. "He is in pain. He must heal."

"His wounds are better, thanks to your people," Nathaneel replied.

"I do not speak of the wounds to which we ministered," Seeraz replied. Nathaneel said nothing. "Humans are strange creatures," Seeraz observed. "You know of what I speak – of the terrible things done to him – and yet you hesitate to go to him."

"I have tried," Nathaneel said, looking over to Michah to be sure he was still asleep. There was pain in his eyes. "But he is a proud man."

"He believes this was his" – the Shedim hesitated, searching for the correct word – "fault?"

"I don't know," Nathaneel answered. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps you can help him then, Nat-an-nyl," Seeraz said, smiling at him, his silver eyes warm and encouraging. "You can use your gifts to show him how to heal."

"I have no gifts to heal such a wound," replied Nathaneel sadly. He wished, more than anything, that he did have the ability to relieve Michah's deep pain.

"You underestimate your worth, beautiful one," Seeraz observed, reaching out and taking Nathaneel's face in his hands. Nathaneel felt suddenly dizzy, as if the Shedim had stirred something deep within his soul. Then, without warning, Seeraz stood up and walked out of the cave.

******

Three Years Later:

"Your majesty."

Michah looked up from his desk with a broad smile for his newly-commissioned Captain of the Royal Guard. "Nathaneel," he said, "please come in and close the door behind you." He could not help but notice how the deep green of the uniform brought out the color of Nathaneel's eyes. As he had many times over the three years since they had returned from the front, Michah felt the familiar pain of longing in his heart.

Standing up, Michah met Nathaneel in the center of the room, clasping his arm warmly. "I can't tell you how pleased I was to hear that you had accepted the promotion," he said.

"It's a great honor, your majesty," Nathaneel replied, nodding slightly. "I only hope I will be worthy of your trust in me."

"If I could truly have my way," laughed Michah, "it would be you seated behind that desk in my stead. You are more than worthy, Nathaneel." He spoke the truth; he still believed himself undeserving of the position in which he found himself.

"And you have been working much too hard, your majesty," Nathaneel said, noticing the dark circles under the other man's eyes and the pallor of his skin.

Michah sighed, knowing it was Nathaneel's kindness that so attracted him to the other man, and yet feeling discomfited to receive it. "Please, Nathaneel, behind closed doors, we have no need for such formality between us."

"You have been working much too hard, Michah," Nathaneel repeated with a sly grin.

"Now that the treaty with the Koren has been signed," Michah said, hoping to appease Nathaneel, "things should settle down a bit. Still, I worry about the far-flung territories. To be honest, sometimes I fear that I will not be able to fill my father's shoes. What kind of a king will I be, I wonder..."

"I have no doubt that you will surpass your father," Nathaneel replied, smiling. "But even he did not do everything himself, Michah. Have you spoken to Advisor Shura about giving you counsel?"

"I have," Michah replied, with a sigh. "He is an old man, Nathaneel. He wishes only to live out the rest of his days surrounded by his grandchildren. He gave up so much to be at my father's side." Michah walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. "No," he said, with determination, "I must find a new advisor. But it will take some time to find someone whom I trust. Until then…" His voice drifted off and he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Nathaneel walked over to Michah, then said with some hesitation, "It is perhaps not my place to say it, Michah, but the affections of a beautiful woman might help bring you some comfort."

Michah laughed, taken aback at Nathaneel's words. "I see that your promotion has given you the courage to speak your mind, Captain." Then, noting the look of embarrassment on Nathaneel's face, Michah added, "And I hope that it will always be that way. I value your good counsel, regardless of its boldness."

"Then you will consider my suggestion?" Nathaneel asked, his body relaxing with Michah's words.

"I will consider it," Michah said, although he had no intention of admitting that he had, in fact, taken comfort – and quite regularly – with both female and male courtiers. He realized that Nathaneel, his quarters housed outside of the main castle building, probably was not aware of the rumors at court. "Still, for such a good officer," thought Michah, "he really is quite naïve in the ways of pleasure."

"I'm glad," Nathaneel replied.

"Will you join me for dinner tonight?" Michah asked, eager to change the subject. "I'm afraid it won't be much – I have too much work to dine formally, but I'd appreciate your company here."

"Of course," Nathaneel answered with a warm smile, "but only if you'll allow me to assist you."

"Honestly," Michah replied, "just having someone to talk to would be helpful. There are a few matters I'd like to get your opinion about."

"Then it would be my pleasure," Nathaneel replied, bowing formally and walking towards the door. He paused for a moment, then turned around and grinned, "But promise me you will consider my suggestion."

Michah laughed. "I will."

******

Night had long since fallen when Michah called for Nathaneel to join him in his study. His servants had laid a substantial meal on a side table, now cleared of the stacks of papers for Michah's review and serving as an impromptu dinner table. In the middle of reading a rather lengthy letter from the governor of one of Shaeran's provinces, Michah did not look up when he heard the knock on his door, but merely said, "Come!" and went on with his work.

Nathaneel stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the desk, taking a seat without asking for leave to do so. "I'll be finished with this in just a moment," said Michah, frowning to realize that, for all its promises and praises of support for the new king, the letter was merely an impassioned plea for more troops and supplies. Michah laughed and shook his head, "You'd think that they'd realize I'm impervious to flowery language and flattery. All they need to do is ask, and I'll send them whatever they need."

Nathaneel did not reply, but leaned over the desk, putting his elbows on it quite audaciously. Michah, surprised by his Captain's behavior, looked up from the letter – the face he saw looking back at him was nearly unrecognizable. It was the same shape as Nathaneel's, but instead of the deep green eyes that so often haunted Michah's dreams, the man before him stared back at him with silver orbs. His expression, too, was not one Michah had ever seen Nathaneel wear – it was dark and intense. His cheekbones seemed slightly higher, his frame leaner.

"You are not Nathaneel," the young king stated evenly.

The newcomer made a sly grin, his face lighting up with mischief as he replied, "No."

Michah leaned back in his chair; confronting this creature left him feeling off-balance. True, in the years since their encounter with the Shedim, Michah had come to suspect that this being existed. Yet to see him sitting in Nathaneel's place was more than just disconcerting. "But Nathaneel, he is still within you, isn't he?" Michah ventured.

The creature laughed – a deep, musical laugh that instantly reminded Michah of Seeraz and the other Shedim. "Perhaps," the creature replied, "although he does not sense me." His tone was arrogant and brash.

"So you are aware of him," Michah mused. "Then you know his thoughts and also possess his memories?"

"Yes," the creature replied, leaning further over the desk and licking his lips suggestively. This aggressive, sexual stance left Michah both aroused and disturbed. The creature tilted his head to the side, then asked, "Do I frighten you, Michah?"

"No," Michah replied without hesitation, although the truth was somewhere between "yes" and "no."

The Shedim snorted, as if to say that he believed otherwise.

"What should I call you?" Michah asked.

"I can think of many things you might call me," the being in Nathaneel's body said. "But my name," he informed him, "is Samael."

"Samael," Michah repeated.

Samael stood up and walked around the desk until he was behind the chair in which Michah sat. He leaned over Michah's shoulder and whispered in Michah's ear, "He wants a position on the Council."

"He?" Michah responded, confused.

Samael pointed to the letter which had been left, forgotten, on the desk. "Lord Lurent, the Governor of Talaska Province. He wishes a seat on the Council."

Michah frowned in surprise. "How do you know this?"

Samael laughed once more. "Here," he said, pointing to a sentence on the page, "and here," he added, pointing to another, "he speaks of the rule of law, and how he admires the manner in which you have governed in your father's place."

"And," Michah prompted, "if this is true, what would you have me do about it?"

Samael straightened up and strolled over to the small fireplace, watching the flames for a moment. "I would observe him carefully, Michah," he replied. "He is not to be trusted. He seeks to depose you."

"What evidence do you have of this?" Michah demanded.

"Your sweet captain has received word today of unrest in Talaska," answered Samael. "The Lieutenant-Governor has been killed in a clash with rebels."

"Rebels?"

"You catch my drift," Samael said, turning around and smiling at Michah. "There are no rebels that we are aware of in that area of the country."

"Since you seem to know a great deal about the situation, what would you suggest?" Michah asked, slightly irritated with himself to realize how little he knew of the state of his own kingdom.

"Kill him first, before he makes an attempt on your life," Samael answered.

"Kill him? Without provocation?"

"He has committed treason against the government of Shaeran," Samael replied, a challenge in his eyes. "Of course, the other one" – he stressed the word "other" so that Michah knew he was speaking of Nathaneel – "would advise patience and restraint. Still, he would ultimately reach the same conclusion as I. It would simply take him far longer to admit the truth."

Michah was silent. He reminded himself that the Shedim to whom he was speaking was the same Nathaneel he had known for nearly a decade. And yet Samael was so surprisingly different, so cunning, that he found himself thinking of them as two entirely separate individuals. This strange creature was, without a doubt, an asset to the kingdom. "And who am I to deny the kingdom his services?" thought Michah.

"You are considering whether to tell the other about my existence," Samael observed. It was true – Michah had been thinking just that. "I do not care if you do," Samael continued. "He might even believe you. But what good can come of it?"

"I owe him my life," Michah said, sounding more defensive than he had intended. For years, he had guessed at Nathaneel's true heritage, and yet he had never spoken of his belief to Nathaneel about it. Now, faced with the undeniable truth of Nathaneel's existence, he began to question his choice to keep silent.

"No doubt," Samael answered. "But does he know of your feelings for him?"

Michah felt his blood run cold. "I don't know what you mean," he said, his face now masklike.

Samael pursed his lips and sauntered over to Michah. "Of course you do, Michah," he taunted, his mouth once more at Michah's ear. Michah shivered involuntarily to feel the other man so close to him. "You have desired him for years, and yet you have always kept your distance. Why is that, I wonder?" Michah had no doubt that Samael had guessed the answer to that question – that Michah had deemed himself unworthy of Nathaneel.

"What do you want of me?" Michah demanded, sure that Samael would use the situation to his advantage.

"Nothing in particular," the Shedim replied. "Despite what you believe, he and I share a common soul. I could no more harm you than he could. However, I am not him. He does not understand your true feelings." He took his hand and ran it through Michah's hair, bending to trace his lips over Michah's neck until the young king gasped, in spite of himself.

"I…" Michah began, but his words were cut short by Samael's mouth, biting and sucking at his earlobe.

"He need never know," whispered Samael. Michah closed his eyes, knowing he could not resist and hating himself for it. He had dreamed of this for too long; his long repressed need was almost more than he could bear. He wanted this man – he wanted to possess him in every sense of the word – and yet, he knew it was wrong. This was not Nathaneel…

Samael sat on the edge of the desk and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, watching Michah with just a hint of a smile on his lips. "I have watched you over the years, Michah," he said, as he slipped out of the starched white fabric, letting it flutter to the ground for effect. He moved between the desk and Michah's chair now, his eyes never straying from the other man's. "I have seen your desire for him grow. You cannot deny yourself any longer."

"You say you share Nathaneel's soul," Michah said, alternately disgusted with Samael and irresistibly drawn to him, "yet you are nothing like him."

"How would you know?" Samael said, undaunted. He reached for Michah's silk tunic and pulled it over the head of auburn hair, tossing it with his own onto the floor. Then, very slowly, he ran a long finger from the waist of Michah's trousers to the slight indentation at the base of the other man's neck, finally taking Michah's chin in his hand. For the longest moment, he just stood with his lips inches away from Michah's, prolonging Michah's agony, tempting him, and deriving pleasure out of his discomfiture. "You have kept him at arm's length for as long as you have known him."

Now Samael brushed Michah's lips with his own, willing the other man to claim the kiss he so desperately wanted. Michah resisted, the battle of wills only serving to intensify his desire. Samael laughed, then pulled away, leaving Michah's lips untouched, knowing that despite Michah's protests, the war had been won. He got to his knees and pulled Michah's legs slightly apart, rubbing his hand on the hard response. Michah moaned as Samael unbuttoned the waist of his trousers and slid his fingers underneath, grasping Michah's erection until the king closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"What are the others like?" Samael asked. "Do they make your heart pound wildly in your chest? Do their lips tempt you? Do their mouths make you cry out for more?"

"Others?" Michah replied, trying to maintain some semblance of sanity with Samael's hand continuing to rub him underneath the fabric of his trousers.

Samael's laugh was harsh, unforgiving. "You jest with me, Michah. Do you not think I do not know how you spend your nights?"

"But Nathaneel…" Michah protested.

"He is too blind to see that which is in front of him," Samael said, still laughing. "I have seen the looks on the faces of the women you bed," he added, reaching his fingers between Michah's legs and touching the tight opening between his buttocks. Michah groaned. "They all wish you would marry them. And the men…"– he paused to make his point – "they would gladly face public humiliation if you would recall them to your bed for more than just a few nights."

"But I have never tasted the lips of a demon," Michah said, his eyes dark with lust. "I have nothing with which to compare…" Then Samael offered the kiss which he had denied Michah only moments before, interrupting Michah's words. His tongue aggressively sought Michah's even as he still held Michah's hard length in his hand. Finally releasing the helpless man and ending the kiss, he pulled off Michah's trousers, exposing the young king's thighs and grabbing his buttocks with his long fingers, pulling Michah's hips to meet his mouth. Greedily, he took Michah inside, his hands kneading the tight muscle until Michah cried out in pain and pleasure. Samael uttered a low, guttural cry in response, then went back to sucking with renewed zeal, bringing Micah to the edge of release, but backing off at the last moment and leaving Michah panting.

"Tell me you want me," Samael prompted, standing up, unbuttoning his own trousers and pulling them down as he gazed at Michah with silver eyes ablaze.

"No," Michah replied. "I shall not give you the satisfaction." He pushed Samael roughly onto the desk, but the light from the fire seemed to set Samael's body aglow, and Michah found he could not control his lust. Samael licked his own palm eagerly, then took Michah in his hand and guided him between his legs.

"Tell me you want me," Samael repeated, watching Michah's body respond with growing heat. Beads of sweat blossomed on Michah's brow as he thrust deep inside the Shedim, his mind focused on nothing but the extraordinary pleasure the act provided him. He was no longer a king – he was just a man who hungered for release. And Samael, resplendent in the firelight, looked like the most beautiful of animals, his muscles tensed like the strongest of felines stalking its prey.

"You shall not hear me say it," Michah retorted, his voice thick with desire, still pressing deeper within the other man, their bodies moving in unison. In response, Samael dug his fingernails into the hard flesh of Michah's pale buttocks and Michah, unable to hold back any longer, convulsed and moaned as he climaxed. Samael whispered something in a strange tongue, pulling Michah's face to his shoulder and shuddering, following Michah in release.

"But I will hear you say it," thought Samael as he held Michah, panting, a satisfied smile upon his lips. "I will know your need."