"Rise!"

The rustle of wool robes, the creaking of joints, and the clearing of throats shifted through the room as the Brothers got to their feet. But Kathleen remained in her respectful posture, knowing not to rise until she was given leave to do so. She had learned long ago to ignore the pain in her knees.

"You may rise, Chosen One," Dahur announced.

Surprised she had not been forced to stay in her cramped position as long as usual, Kathleen thankfully stood, her hands clasped tightly at her waist, her head down.

"Come here, woman," the Master ordered.

Without delay, she hastened to the throne, staring at the black marble floor beneath her feet. In her peripheral vision, she saw robes moving out of her way and knew these men would rather be lashed than allow her clothing to touch theirs. She stopped at the step that led to the dais and waited.

"You have been here how long now?"

"All my life, Your Eminence," she replied.

"And how old are you?"

A shudder ran through Kathleen, but she did not lift her head. "I am thirty-seven, Your Eminence."

"You know you will never leave this place, do you not?"

"I have been told so, Your Eminence."

A murmur came from those gathered.

"But you do not believe you will live out your days behind these walls?"

"If it is the Gods' will, I--"

"That isnot what he asked," Gehenna Dahur interrupted.

"Perhaps I did not understand him, Lord Dahur," she said and could hear Rajkon's irritated hiss. "Would you repeat what he asked?"

Utter silence filled the room for what, to Kathleen, seemed a long time. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her nails as deep into the flesh of her palms as she could stab them.

"Look at me!" Gehenna thundered.

Kathleen lifted her head. Through the thick gauze, she saw fury mottling Lord Dahur's ugly round face.

"You would play word games with me, woman?" he shouted.

"No, Your Grace. I--"

"Silence!"

Once more, the lack of sound felt like that of a tomb. The eerie stillness made the hair stir on Kathleen's arms, and a clamminess trickled down her spine. "I assure you, woman, you willnever venture past these walls alive," Gehenna Dahur said. "The Brotherhood will never allow you to utilize the forbidden powers you possess. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Lord Dahur."

"If it had been left up to me, I would have drowned you at birth upon seeing the twin crescents in your palm!"

Her nails gouging into the telltale birthmarks, Kathleen remained still.

"That is enough, Gehenna," the Master said. "Go back to Rajkon, woman."

Kathleen curtsied to the Master, and hurriedly backed away, knowing if she turned her back on him, they would beat her to within an inch of her life.

"Where is the Amazeen?" the Master asked.

"She was taken to the seraglio, Your Grace," Gehenna answered.

"A fitting place for a whore."

"I am told the King's Commander of Security is with the entourage," Gehenna purred in his brother's ear.

The Master's brow quirked." So, Jaelan is here."

"And as handsome as ever," Gehenna quipped.

Both men laughed.

As the doors of the ceremonial hall closed before her, Kathleen's heart leapt to her throat. The Brothers hated Jaelan Ben-Ashaman and had done everything they could to wrest him from the King's protection. That they had failed had fostered within their sect a vicious determination to eventually succeed.

Chapter 2.

Jaelan laid his head against the cool marble rim of the bathing pool, closed his eyes, and tried to relax. He was bone-tired, angry with himself, and plagued by a variety of physical problems that irritated him more than they should. A wicked headache pulsed above his right eye; his right shin throbbed; deep scratches on his arms and chest stung as the warm water lapped against his body; and the dull ache in his groin was a vivid reminder that he hadn't been as careful as was normally his wont.

"I see you've added a few more battle scars to your already-abused body."

Jaelan opened one eye, looked at the one who had spoken, and snorted. "Go to hell, Aluino."

"All in good time, my friend," Aluino Vasquez said with a chuckle. "All in good time." He hunkered down beside Jaelan. "I heard she made you speak a few octaves higher for a while there. Is that true?"

A long sigh came from Jaelan, but he refrained from relieving his friend's curiosity. He licked his swollen lip.

"You know," Aluino said, pulling off his boots and socks and rolling up his pant legs, "I can't remember the last time I saw you with a black eye. Do you recall when it was?"

"By the Prophet! Your feet stink, 'Lui!" Jaelan scooted away from the offensive stench, only partially extinguished when Aluino sunk his feet in the water.

"I've been riding most of the day," Aluino replied, wiggling his toes. "You didn't answer me."

"I can't even breathe with that foul odor permeating the air. How the hell do you expect me to be able to think, much less speak?"

"You don't seem to be having any problem squawking,gallo ." His friend chuckled. He leaned back on his elbows and regarded Jaelan. "Tell me about the pretty one I hear it took four Hasdu warriors to subdue after she mauled your family jewels."

Jaelan frowned, thinking about the ruckus. As Commander of Security, he had been called by the Chief Procurer's assistant just as the trouble began. When he entered the slave market, he saw two women struggling with the Chief Procurer and the attendants of the Chief Slavemaster. At first, the foul language from the tall redhead had amused him and every other man watching the spectacle. He had stood laughing, listening to bets on how long it would take for the tall one to be subdued, until a dagger suddenly appeared in her hand. Before he or anyone else could react, she had buried the blade in the fat gut of the King's Chief Procurer, his entrails tumbling to the wooden platform in a steaming heap. No one knew how the woman had gotten hold of the dagger, but as soon as she committed her deadly deed, the Chief Slavemaster's attendants wrestled her to the ground.

"Don't hurt her!" the other woman cried out.

Short, slender, blonde, and as tanned as her companion was tall, stout, crimson-haired, and pale, the one who Jaelan learned was named Orithia tried to reach her friend. She struggled with the Chief Slavemaster, bucking and twisting in his muscled hold, striving with every ounce of her strength to break free. Her shouts pleading with the Chief Slavemaster's attendants not to harm the redhead went unheeded. Even over the shrieks of the blonde and the grunts of the men trying to wrest the dagger from the woman warrior, the pop of a snapping bone rang over the crowd.

Not an arm or leg, but a broken neck. As the Chief Slavemaster's attendants moved back, leaving the still one sprawled on the plank flooring of the auction platform, all eyes went to the fair-haired beauty.

Jaelan's frown deepened as he remembered the blonde going perfectly still in the grip of her captor. Behind his closed eyes, he could see the stricken look that drained her face of color and opened her full lips in shock. He had taken a step toward her just as her eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped in the Chief Slavemaster's arms.

"I hear you brought her to the fortress," Aluino remarked. "She had fainted?"

"Aye." Jaelan stared at the lush greenery at the far end of the bathing chamber. "When she awoke, all hell broke loose."

Aluino grinned. "So I heard. Caspar said she came after you with talons drawn."

Jaelan touched the long scratches that streaked his chest. "Her prophet-be-damned fingernails felt like razor blades."

"Have you grown so weak in the King's employ that you allow a wisp of a girl to get the better of you, Ben-Ashaman?"

"That wisp of a girl is an Amazeen warrioress of royal blood, trained from the womb to fight men and to win at all costs. I should have remembered that."

Aluino arched a thick black brow. "But you thought you could handle her on your own, eh,amigo ?"

Shaking his head, Jaelan reached for a sea sponge and a thick bar of soap. He lathered his arms, wincing at the deep gouges pitting his flesh. "She appeared so docile on the slave platform. I thought I saw fear in her eyes, believed she was intimidated by her predicament, so I let down my guard. I sure as hell won't make that mistake again! I walked into the room, saw her sitting on the floor glaring at me, and went to help her to her feet. Before I knew what was happening, she sprang up and came at me faster than a cheetah. It was all I could do to keep her from raking my eyes. As it was, she head-butted me in the mouth, bit me on the shoulder, then kicked me in the shin. During all that, I didn't want to hurt her until she drove her knee into my groin."

"And after she'd done all that?" Aluino inquired with a smirk.

Jaelan cast his friend a nasty look. "I wanted to break her stubborn neck!" Jaelan grumbled, then winced at what he'd said. "Ignore that. A bad choice of words."

Aluino's smile disappeared. "Did the attendants mean to kill the other woman?"

Jaelan shrugged, then wished he hadn't, for the scratches on his chest came to burning life as he pulled apart the forming scabs. "I don't think so, but she would have been executed anyway for killing the Chief Procurer."

"True. So what will happen to this one? Is she really destined for the King's harem?"

"That was a foregone conclusion as soon as the slave traders discovered who she was. But I'll tell you, if she doesn't practice self-restraint, she'll wind up with her head on the chopping block instead of on a silken pillow beside our king. She's already in the seraglio and will begin her training tomorrow morning."

"I pity her trainers." Aluino chuckled.

"So do I."

In silence, the men relaxed in the warm bath. When Aluino spoke again, he pulled his feet out of the water. "You say she is of royal blood. How closely is she related to the Amazeen queen?"

"She is the niece of the Defense Queen," Jaelan answered. "And supposedly the daughter of the Domestic Queen, though I doubt it."

"They have more than one queen?"

"One for defense, and another for domestic rule. They are generally sisters and share sovereignty. In this case, I'm told they are cousins."

"I can not imagine women sharing anything," Aluino quipped. "Especially not the rule of an entire country."

"It seems to work for the Amazeen."

"You know, I have heard tales," Aluino said as he dried his feet with his smelly socks. "They enslave men, keep them for mating purposes, and make them perform tasks other cultures reserve for females. It is said they kill their male offspring, or else send them away to live with a nearby tribe."

"I've heard that, too. I've also heard they have their right breasts burned off in order to draw a bow and throw javelins more efficiently."

"When you were struggling with that wildcat this morning, did she have both love globes?"

Jaelan blushed. "I was too busy fending off her wicked nails to take count, Vasquez."

"You'll let me know if you find out, won't you?"

Jaelan snorted.

"They must be an insensitive lot if it is true about their breasts. Apparently dying with your body intact is not a concern of theirs. Another tale I've heard is that they pluck out the right eye and cut off the right thumb of their male captives so they cannot wield weapons against them. Do you believe that could be true?"

"I've no idea," Jaelan answered. "And I've no desire to find out." He stood, turned, and levered himself out of the pool.

Aluino watched his friend shake off the water like a hound. "Well, let's hope they don't come after you and take you prisoner for helping to enslave one of theirs."

"One thing's for certain, I won't be as gentle with the next Amazeen I come into contact with." Jaelan patted dry the vicious scratches on his chest.

"Did you have the Healer look at those wounds, Commander?"

Jaelan stilled. He did not turn to greet the speaker, for he recognized the voice all too well. One glance at Aluino, whose swarthy complexion had turned pale, was all the confirmation Jaelan needed to know a demon from the bowels of the Abyss had joined them.

"I have no need of a Healer, Lord Gehenna," Jaelan replied, wrapping the towel around his naked body and tucking the end at his waist.

"One never knows what filth lies beneath the nails of an impure female. I am told she is having her monthly flow, so she is doubly unclean. I must insist you present yourself to Healer Dromos immediately. We do not wish you to become ill from your injuries. We would be remiss in our duty to His Majesty should you suffer any misfortune while in our care."

Jaelan ground his teeth, a muscle working in his taut jaw. He made no reply, but nodded in reluctant acquiescence. Turning his back to a man he hated, he snatched up his clothes.

"You look to be in virile health, Commander, but even a Shadowlord can get sick, given the right circumstances," Gehenna called in a purring voice. When Jaelan stiffened, looking around to pierce the man with a hateful glower, the Prelate of Justice grinned nastily. "I order you to present yourself to the Healer. You do not wish to become ill, do you?"

Clutching his clothes in a brutal grip, Jaelan stared at Gehenna Dahur, who sauntered from the room. Breathing harshly, in shallow gasps of anger, he muttered a quick farewell to Aluino and stalked away, his bare feet slapping the tile floor.

Jaelan's teeth ground audibly as the Healer cleaned the scratches on his abdomen with strong astringent. It wasn't the medication's sting that bothered Jaelan, but the press of the stocky man's very-white fingers as they roamed at will over his chest.

"This one could become infected, Commander," Dromos commented with tsking sounds to accompany his pronouncement. "We must watch it closely, for the scratch is deep and wide."

"I know how to disinfect and care for wounds, Lord Dromos," Jaelan replied through clenched teeth. "A Shadowlord heals quickly, as I'm sure you know."

Dromos looked up through bushy eyebrows and smiled coyly, his eyelids fluttering like those of an adolescent girl. "Oh, I know how well you care for your body. Your healing capacity is legendary, but I would like to..."