The Phoenix Key 2 "Deliver Me"

\"The Phoenix Key\"

Deliver Me

By: Delilah deSora

Pagan_nyght@yahoo.com



Chapter 6



**



Deliver me the cross that I am bearing



**



Trey murmured, making the transition between sleep and full awareness. The bed was warm and soft underneath him and he sighed happily, burying his face in the soft pillows. An arm was about his waist, holding him tight to the man at his side. He smiled lazily, enjoying it.



The arm tightened slightly and he felt the man next to him nuzzle his neck. He murmured happily. His lover shifed on the bed and long hair slid over his back. The arm about his waist dragged his hips up and he frowned, trying to wave off the man next to him. His lover, however, refused to relent.



“Not now, Ivan.” He growled, “go back to sleep.”



There was a snort from behind him and he yelped in surprise as he was jerked to the side and thrown to the stone floor. Before he could protest his lover mounted him roughly, taking him without any preparation at all. A fierce burning pain coursed through him and he cried out hoarsely. Nails dug bloody furrows into his back that he barely felt as he tried to escape the cruel thrusts being forced upon him.



A hand clasped the back of his neck, forcing his face to the ground. The rough stone scrapped against his skin harshly, drawing blood. He squeezed his eyes shut, sobbing as his body was assaulted.



“Ivan . . . please . . .” He whispered, trying to brace himself against the floor as his lover took his satisfaction.



He felt the man push off of him with a growl of distaste. Footsteps faded from his hearing and he sobbed as he heard a familiar metal door slam shut, leaving him broken and alone.



A hesitant hand touched his hair and Trey jerked awake.



Pale blue eyes peered at him in concern. “Are you alright?”



“Maryushka?” He whispered, wiping dirt and sweat out of his eyes.



The woman nodded reaching out for him again. He pulled away with a hiss, drawing a faint gasp from the woman. “Don’t touch me!” He said, pinning himself against the bars.



“I think your fever has returned,” she whispered, huddling across the cage from him. \"You\'ve cried out in your sleep.\"



He laughed humorlessly, rubbing his hands over his arms. His body ached in a myriad of places and he tried not to think about the various substances that left his skin both sticky and gritty. His once meticulously groomed hair tangled about his face, getting his eyes. He reached up to brush it away but the metal chink of the bands sealed about his wrists made him stop in mid-motion. He shuddered and pulled his hands away from his face.



The lady had been brought to him over a week ago as a screaming firebird by a gloating Dedumil who had even shoved the note in his face covered in Ivan’s writing, thanking him for his support and asking him to keep the lady safe. He’d locked them together, summoning a few of his own lords to gawk over his firebirds.



Maryushka reached for him and again he pulled away. “Please, lady. Don’t. I . . . I am fine.”



“But if you are ill . . .”



“It doesn’t matter!” He snapped, harsher than he’d intended. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “It\'s alright. I don’t think I can die from illness and unless it is a life or death matter there is nothing that can be done for it. As long as I am able to “perform” Dedumil will not care.”



He turned away from her then, unwilling to see the look on her face when she realized what sort of performing was required of him. He had thought himself prepared when his former master had come for him, releasing him from the spell but he’d been wrong.



**



Ivan stared down at the palace in the valley beneath him. He seethed silently, his entire world directed to that one spot. Nothing else matter. Not the city that lay around it, not the people who moved through its streets, not the green forest that surrounded all of it.



“We should go.” The wolf beside him urged as it pulled on his robe.



He growled, causing the creature to back up a few steps.



“They’re waiting. Now is not the time.” It cautioned, pacing away from him.



Despite his desire Ivan nodded, glancing back at the palace before turning and following his companion.



**



Trey grit his teeth, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of wringing a cry from him. The servants yanked harshly on the reins attached to the bit in his mouth, forcing him forward despite his attempts to remain where he was. Sharp pain ran up his leg to his lower back, making him jump forward. He jerked his head, gaining enough slack on the reins to glare at the man behind him who was now caressing his hip with the crop.



Dedumil spared him a satisfied smile. The servants who managed to yank his head around and drag him a few more feet cut off Trey’s growl. Dedumil laughed softly before striking him again. He sighed, giving in to the incessant tugs to give his aching neck a moment’s rest.



He hated being dragged around in this manner. He knew what Dedumil wanted him to look like. He wanted his slave to look like a prized horse but Trey was damned determined to give him a slave that looked like a stubborn mule that had be dragged along well-known routes. It gave him some satisfaction to know that it annoyed the tsar to be seen with a slave that rebelled against his authority.



He soon recognized the corridor they were in and he stalled again when they tried to drag him towards an all too familiar door. He actually managed to drag the reins away from the servants and he made a halfhearted attempt to flee only to have his head jerked around. He panted, glaring up at the tsar who fisted the reins, dragging him up onto his knees.



The crop ran down his cheek softly. “Now, now. They’ve been asking for you. We’ve got you all cleaned up and pretty for them. You’re going to play nice now, aren’t you?”



Trey snarled to get across just how nice he was planning on playing, earning another braying laugh and a series of sharp stinging blows against his back.



“Such a shame that brute got to you first.” The man murmured as his fingers ghosted over the scar on his face. “He had no taste for nature’s art. I suppose it doesn’t matter, though, nature got him in the end didn’t it. Rather a satisfying end actually. Though I must admit, I didn’t expect that brat of a son to hold onto the throne. A shame really. I had had such high hopes that I might be able to annex it once the Tsaravichs were gone. Ah well, Ivan’s a little more intelligent than I would of liked but at least I no longer have to worry about an army tearing through my land. Vislav was a fool but even the dumbest of animals can be dangerous if strong enough. It’s a pity that that Ivan and Afron get along so well. It rather limits how much I can take from the brat.”



His former master flung him to the floor, handing the reins back to the servants.



“Wait until he is ready before letting him go.” He ordered, turning on his heel and stalking away.



The servants nodded to his retreating back before taking up the reins in their fists and pulling. It took them a good few minutes to wrestle him down the last few feet of hallway, the guards at the door laughing at their struggles. They left him panting in the small dark entrance room of Dedumil’s harem. A hand clamped over his mouth and nose and he tried to pull away from it the guard held him pinned against his strong body until his muscles began to tremble with weakness and he had to fight to keep his vision steady. He cursed the drug that assaulted him through his breath, stealing his strength and his will. When he lay limp the harness was removed and the bit pulled from his dry lips. A solid drug was forced to the back of his mouth and his throat stroked until he swallowed it.



Satisfied his captor released him, allowing him to slide to the floor where he stared at the candlelight patterns in complete fascination. Words reached his ears but he couldn’t understand them. Instead the tones danced through his head, leaving nothing in their wake. Hands touched his skin and he shivered in delight.



They dragged him to the next room and he cried out at the sensation of the cloth doorway running over his skin. A multitude of voices swam over him and he thrashed, drowning in sensation. He needed to get away, to collect his thoughts, but everywhere he moved there were hands upon him. They brushed his skin, tangled in his hair, and ran over his lips. Someone cupped his chin; pulling his face up to theirs and he recognized the woman that held him. Her hair was nearly as red as his and she cooed something at him. He shuddered as her lips touched his.



His entire world become that kiss and he sobbed in frustration as his body tried to respond to it but the drug held him back. It didn’t seem to bother the women of Dedumil’s harem, though, for they continued to touch him, exclaiming to each other over his head. They stroked his hair, delicate fingers tugging at the long waves and pulling itk frk from his face as each one kissed him. Hands teased limp flesh and their soft giggles made him try to hide his head in shame but they wouldn’t allow it.



Trey found himself tugged this way and that. He gave into it, letting them pass him off like some doll. He couldn’t say for sure but it seemed to him that the tsar had expanded his harem for there were quite a few hands that were more inquisitive then others. He recognized the touches of those he’d served before for they caressed him with a familiarity that reminded him of other hands and made him want to sob for the reminder of his true master’s caresses.



There were times when he wished with all his being that Ivan would come to save him. Then he would remind himself of what he had seen Dedumil do with his magic and he would shudder, praying with all his might that Ivan would just let him go. The thought of being left here, however, made him tremble uncontrollably. Could he really survive as Dedumil’s toy?



The answer, he decided as hands wrapped about his waist and a bare body pressed up against his, was a definite no. He might not be able to kill himself but he would find a way to be free from his tormentor.



Even if he had to leave his shell behind.



**



Ivan sat, letting those around him speak as he stared off aimlessly at the wall. He played with a length of cloth, wrapping and unwrapping it about his hand. He didn’t notice when a metal setting cut into his hand until his servant gently removed Trey’s collar from his grasp and pressed a clean cloth to the wound.



With a snarl he stood, slamming his hand down on the table and drawing all attention to him. “How much longer must we wait?” He demanded.



The older man across from him raised his hand, trying to calm him. “Patience, Ivan. If what you have said is true we cannot rush into this. All actions must be weighed.” “I grow tired of waiting, Afron! I want what is mine! Dedumil has held him too long. I will be most annoyed to get there only to discover that he is gone!” Afron stared at him silently until his rage past and he sat. The older tsar stood, leaning on the table. “I too want Trey back, Ivan. Not because he is your slave but because of what he did for my daughter. He saved her life even though he was at my palace as your slave and his actions could have gotten him killed. A debt like that is not easily repaid, but it will do us no good to rush into things unprepared. Who will save him if we fail?” Ivan frowned but kept his peace, unable to argue with the tsar’s words.



**



He curled up on his side, trying to minimize how much of his sensitized skin was in contact with the cold floor. Blue eyes stared down at him from the firebird’s perch near the top of the cage as it trilled at him in concern. He closed his eyes and tucked his chin against his chest, shivering.



Feathers brushed his face and he pulled back with a shudder as a large form landed next to him. The firebird’s wings hovered over him, held out to keep the long primaries from touching him. He stared at the creature as it dipped its head, taking a few strands of his hair in its bill and preening them. Smiling softly he reached out to run his fingers through the white feathers of its breast. Maryushka’s golden crest flared in pleasure and he laughed.



“Thank you.” He whispered.



The firebird wedged its way under his arm, sinking down next to him. He stiffened as soft feathers brushed him but the warmth of the bird’s body soon drew away the cold. He closed his eyes, feeling Maryuska bury her own head in his hair.



Shouts dragged him from his sleep but the drug still hadn’t left his body and all he could make out were angry tones. Pale arms were stretched out, blocking his view of whom the lady at his side was speaking to but he knew the other’s voice well enough to know that Dedumil had come.



He wanted to sit up and take action but he could not. His head touched the floor and he slipped back to sleep once again. It was the sound of sobs and the feel of tears on his arm that drew him out of slumber’s oblivion once more. He opened his eyes, blinking away the dried wetness that tried to seal them together.



“What’s wrong?” He asked, forcing himself to sit up.



Maryushka shook her head, brushing furiously at the tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”



He tried to smile but could not find the energy. “Don’t worry about it. Sooner or later someone would have. I’d rather it be you.”



She nodded slightly, turning her head to hide the new tears from him. He reached out for her, turning her delicate face towards him. She buried it against his chest and he held her as she cried. He wished that he had the words to calm her but there was nothing he could say. They were both the victims of fate and treachery. What words could he speak that would sooth her?



“It’s my fault,” she sobbed, “I should never have gone to that orchard. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”



Trey shook his head. “Nay. There is only one person at fault for this and it is not you.”



“Do you think he’ll come for us? Your tsar?”



“I don’t know,” Trey replied truthfully, “I think he might try but . . . I fear there is nothing he can do. He got the best of Dedumil once before but such tricks will not work a second time. Besides, I may not be worth the cost of such an attempt.”



“He would have traded me for you.” Maryushka replied, pulling back to stare up at him. “You must mean something to him.”



Trey laughed softly. “I belong to him. Ivan doesn’t like to have things that are his taken away from him. It is . . . a family trait.”



“I don’t know how you can stay with him. He’s so cold. Aren’t you afraid?”



He shrugged. “Sometimes. I will not lie, lady. Ivan is not a man I would trust if I were you but . . . he is right for me. I think we see each other better than anyone else sees us. There is much in Ivan I do not understand, needs I cannot explain, but ones I want to fulfill. I think someone hurt him once and those wounds are still there. They make him do things that you and I don’t like. I believe that once someone failed him and he’s had to take care of himself for longer than he can remember. It is why he clings to the things that are important to him. It is why I do not feel threatened by him. He would never betray me or use me to protect himself because to do so would mean losing something that he needs.”



Maryushka’s blue eyes watered again. “You belong to your Ivan as I will belong to him.”



Trey held her as angry tears fell. “It . . . it may not be as bad as you think.” He whispered, stroking her hair. “I have seen his harem. They live lush and pampered lives. You would never want for anything, except for your freedom and he even grants them an illusion of that.”



She shook her head. “You don’t understand. He doesn’t want me for his harem. He wants me for himself. For his throne. He would make me share his bed and his name. I do not want those things! I only want to go home!”



Trey closed his eyes, resting his cheek on her hair. “I wish there was something I could do to ease your pain, lady. I would do all in my power, if I had any power to give.”



The woman in his arms fell quiet for a moment. “Would you? If there was something you could do?”



He nodded. “Yes, anything.”



She pulled away from him, staring up with determined eyes. “Then I would have you take me. Like a man does with a woman.”



He gasped, pushing her away. “What?”



She followed him, grabbing at his wrists. “He is going to use a spell to force me to marry him! A spell that only works on a woman like me who has never been with a man. If we lie together the spell will not work!”



“He will simply find another spell after he finishes flaying the skin off of me!” Trey protested, trying to pull her off him.



Maryushka shook her head. “Not if I pretend that the spell has worked.”



He stared up at her in disbelief. “Then why fake the spell if you are simply going to play his game?”



“Because the spell will force me to love him, forever! I do not want that! I don’t want a false love. It is not the actions of his love that frighten me. It is the knowledge that I will be bonded to that creature for all of my days and perhaps in the beyond. Please, do this for me! I have done nothing to deserve such a fate!”



Trey chewed at his lip, looking away from her. “I do not know that I can. Ivan . . .”



“Need never know!” She insisted. “By your own words you have admitted that he will make some attempt to reclaim you. I can help him! If the Koschey believes me to be loyal to him he won’t restrict my movements. I can lead him to you!”



He stared at her a long while, feeling bile in the back of his throat. Could he? Could he take her? He wasn’t sure. His body ached from a million different things, from a million different uses of it in the last two weeks. It had been hard but none of it compared to this. When had the last time he’d bedded a woman been? A lifetime ago, when he had been free to pick his own fate.



But could he leave this woman who had done nothing to deserve her fate tied forever to a man like Dedumil?



He closed his eyes in defeat and nodded.