The wings of the night

CHAPTER 2



Having just retired to their bedroom Sarata and Maran had just gotten to bed, when someone had begun to argue at their doorway with Maz the chief guard of Sarata and his queen Maran. They heard, through the solid oak door.” I have to see Sarata.”



At their door stood four guards who were to protect the king with their very lives if it came to that. As they loved him so. They would not allow anything to disturb the king and queen's rest bit that they would no doubt need for them to be refreshed in the morning. They had been hearing rumors that there would be something, that they would wish to hear in the morrow. They were not secure in their desire to find out what it was. They knew this.

The door was made of heavy oak, It was embossed with silver hinges. It stood eight feet tall, five feet across. There was a story that Sarata as a child rode his horse into the chamber to surprize his parents which he no doubt did. As a child Sarata had been a handful. He was no less now, but Maran had to keep an eye on him to keep him out of trouble.

Maz saw Rica advance towards the door, the torch that light the room gave off just enough light to see him. His blouse was silk, his pantaloons were blue, The stockings were one up and one down. His hair looked unkept. His face looked red for some reason, saying,"Damn, Damn. I have to tell Sarata."

He was barely within earshot of the guards. In his hands he held a scroll. They did not know as to what to make of it, or rather him either. He had a tendency to show up when no one ever wanted to see him. Now was just one such a date and time. Most assuredly, they would have to keep him out. Rica charged towards them like a battering ram

“NO! You don’t!” Maz said to the speaker, Maz had seen enough of Rica to know, Sarata would have his head on a pike if he were disturbed one more time, by this meddlesome man. Rica was the king’s advisor. Maz thought, it would be better, if he could take his own advice and not be bothered by him coming here at all times of the day. Maz knew he did not wish to be disturbed by him under no secure come stances did he wish for this to happen, now.

Saran licked her crimson lips, and patted the bed beside her, as she did this she had sat upright so as that Sarata could partake of her beauty. At this very moment she was wearing a black corset having mesh floral cups for her ample breasts , with black silk stockings for her legs to be in. Her hair was in black abundant tressals. Her silver eyes were adorned with black eye shadow, her cheeks were rouged. She noted that his eyes were cast from time to see the satyr. His eyes lingered upon her bosom in the picture, She said, "Do you not like mine more than hers?"

Sarata looked at her, he could not deny, that he loved her so. He drew her face to his with his fingertip to kiss her. Saying,"No. I can not say that. I enjoy the artist redendion of her, but she is not who I love."

"Really?" she asked hesitantly, she drew her breasts together to ampify their size, they were a mite smaller than those of the painting.

"Yes of course."

Smiling seductively at him, she undid his gown for bed, it fell to the floor. She duely noted that he was erect standing at attention for her. She smiled devilishly. Her hands crept across his body as the wind would the trees' very leaves. She licked her fingers to play with him. "Shall we play. Come let us play?"



“I have to I tell you,” Rica said there were tears running down his cheeks, his body looked pale as white linens look white. His clasped on one of his hands a scroll, that had just been delivered to him. By the courier that his highness had sent out to find the answer to a query. The courier looked no better than he did, why he did not know. The courier had rushed inside with an escort of guards to keep the king safe. That was until they realized who he was. Than they stepped away from him, to allow him some time to make his peace.

The courier looked worried, no that is not quite right a better term for this is terrified. He must have been to ride in this devilish deluge to here. Rica could not even see what should have been a foot from his face. Jarrata had arrived. Belowing that he had to get inside the palace. He had to speak to His highness Sarata.

The guards would not have this. They stopped him, by using the point of their two handed sword to allow them to stop him, until they knew who he was, and so, they asked, ”Let us see the ring. He gave you.”

“Must we do this all of the time,” Jarrata asked. As he drew out of his jacket a ring that SArata had given him. There was an assortment of rings in his pocket, only one would allow him to have an audience with the king or one of his aids. Jarrata knew it was beyond night fall. So, he knew that Sarata would not be willing to discuss the matter before him just at this moment.

Palata smiled, ”Good to see you, old friend,”

“This is how you treat your old friends, but putting a sword to their throats what do you do with your enemies. Serve them meals and drinks.” Jarata asked complaining as Palata knew he would.

“The king has to be told of this? I tell you,” Jarata warned, “Find that miscreant we know and love to give him this”

“That miscreant has ears in his head.” Rica said as he walked out of his chamber, trying look far more awake than he was in any way. Lightning and thunder frightened him more than anything else did. His hair stood up like a cornfeild

“You do not,” Maz said.



“Do too.” Rica said as he rapped on the heavy wooden door, by passing the gloved hand of Maz that tried to impede his hands arrival there. Maz eased out his dirk from his belt to try to deter him from bugging Sarata at a time such as this. From what he understood, Maran was randy for him to have sex with her.



“You are not welcome here.” Maz said.



“I must see them?” Rica said.



Another guard stepped into to impede him from going any further.



Rica would not be stopped, that was a certainty. They would not be able do this, forever. They were going to have to stop him one of these days. Sarata would not be willing to do this forever. So, what if he was related to Maran’s bastard child. Whom she had not declared to anyone to exist this.



Maz wondered when Sarata would have him put his neck on the chopping block. Maz smiled in contemplation of this happening, he could see the axe fall upon Rica's neck,the geyser of blood as his head would roll from his shoulders, he smiled envisioning this. Rica drove his open hand against the guard of the dark, to jar it from Maz's hand. He looked up to see, Rica slam his fist against the door.

Having drawn back the curtain to see the guards advance towards the door, she did not desire or deserve this happening to her and Sarata, she was upset at the sounds from the doorway over which there was a gargoyle whose maw was open Maran asked,"What is the meaning of this?""

Sarata said,"Who is there?" And then wishing he haven't, for he recognized the voice that was at the door. He shook his head in disgust at the realization of this occurring. Rica was at the chamber door,





Thunder roared and snarled alarmingly at the windows and about the walls of the castle nestled between the mountains that were snow covered most of the time. Lightning blazed through the crack in the windows curtains to lite the room in its deep veil of light. It illuminated the picture of the satyr on the wall over the blazing hearth, through its light and the lightning’s own, the bed was covered in ivory colored fur it was huge, having wood statues of carved men at the bottom and women carved ta the top to hold the huge canopy over the bed,. There was a curtain, which had been lowed so they could conduct their business without being disturbed. Beside the bed was relief statues of mythical beasts of this region upon tables, these statues looked so life like one would swear that they would leave the table in an instance. The curtains were a thick red affair. The walls were made up of shelves having books upon books upon them. Where the books were not was stonework, there were torches presiding where the stonework was/ IN the corner were bottles of booze. The couple swore that the satyr’s eyes moved as they moved about in the room. About the room stood their guards in the royal boudoir over seeing their amours behavior.



They were about to make love to each other, Maran lay in bed in her black corset with mesh flower covered cups for her breasts to reside in. She had Sarata lay on top of her. He knew what she desired to happen to her. He advised her to run her nails down his back to intensify with he was doing to her. Her nails sank as a shark is dorsal fin would return beneath the water. Blood swept into the newly dug channels in his back from her long talon like nails. He crushed and played with her nipples to send her into the gaping chasm he knew as her ecstasy.



She begs,”Crush her breasts and nipples. Squeeze and twist them; so as that she would be at the brink of ecstasy. When her body would desire for him.” So, he would be able to drive his cock into her newly wet cunt. Her water was running out of the chasm, making it slick for his admittance there.



The coast was marred with water soaked logs, and huge rocks that protruded through the water frothing water, that turned the coast line into a quagmire of reefs, and shallows. The water was treacherous to dare to sail in. No captian worth his salt would dare to do this. The kingdom relied upon people going through the woods and briar to get here. They had made many a friend with their generousity that they had by giving them iron and other metals from the mountains at a much cheaper cost than they should have. The affluent tried to coerce Maran and Sarate into giving them less ore, so that they would have more money to work with.

Sarata had a large standing army, he felt he did not need any more soldiers. His kingdom had been attacked a few times, but his army was able to rebuttal the enemy. Long before they arrived inside the gates.