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Lord Storm Nattas

The King of Regia

Part I

-Kraken’s Dreams-

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Storm could see the sun shining on the clear of clouds azure sky. Tropical birds chirping loudly, large sharp fronds over his head and the green on them watered down, almost khaki in its hue. His arm dropped down and touched fine sand with his fingers. Powder like and sizzling hot. He smelled of vanilla, orange and cinnamon oils. Myrrh, rose and geranium.

Tasted them on his tongue. He raised his head and looked away from the lavish veranda, just behind him and towards the picturesque sandy beach. The striking long-haired blond woman saw him, or so he thought initially and raised her hand in an energetic wave, bulging naked breasts dancing, stately face smiling and eyes the color of the skies.

Hah, at last a nice fucking dream, Storm thought leering, easily recognizing her figure in all its naked glory although he shouldn’t and spotted the small boy splashing out of the waters also naked, tiny cock daggling and tanned to a crisp. The boy fell down once, wet sand on his face and small chest, but got up again and slipped through the arms of the blond woman chasing after him.

Come here you little rascal, Storm said at the small boy and got up, the dream and the place familiar, but also different.

Over here. What the fuck, are you blind?

The little guy didn’t seem to notice him, but run towards the spacious marble covered veranda, the naked Queen of Regia running after him.

It was truly a sight for the fucking ages.

‘Oras curse him! Don’t let that little shit get on the veranda!’ Maja snarled walking outside not even acknowledging Storm and Miranda running after the little devil stopped breathing heavy and glared at her. The boy never made it, as he’d managed to trip over his small feet again and plant his face on the sand. “And put some clothes on and a shawl, I have people coming. It would be nigh impossible to explain you away.”

Hey, Storm told them, but apparently this was one of those dreams, where Storm only got to watch. He did hear a deep sigh in his ear though, smelled and tasted roses on his tongue.

And then he remembered.

 

Fuck.

Shite!

Abrakas no! You son of a rotting squid!

Storm cursed and prayed in the same breath and woke up drenched in sweat, as the bedroom was sweltering hot for the season. He pushed an arm to the side feeling a body next to him and caught a soft mound, felt the nipple hardening under his fingers and turned his head equally terrified and aroused. His granite hard cock the biggest proof of the latter.

“Lord Nattas,” Miranda purred looking at him under a mess of luscious blond curls. “I’m thoroughly satisfied.”

Not a dream.

A panicked Storm flinched on instinct so hard, he managed to clear more than a meter of bed and land on the hard stone floor on his arse.

It hurt a lot, but did wake him up proper.

 

---

 

Storm gulped down the syrupy wine, then went and refilled the cup again with shaking hands, not even looking at Miranda dressing up slowly. He’d injured himself to put his pants on, as he had to literally bend his cock unnaturally to get the rough woolen garbs on. His doublet smelled of sweat, wine, expensive oils and wild all-night coupling.

The latter quite a problem.

“I’ll have a maid coming in soon. She’s nosy,” Miranda informed him, gathering her long hair in a bun.

You better get the fuck out of my bedroom, her meaning.

Storm cleared his throat and put his cup down half-finished.

“Is there… a back door?” He croaked.

Miranda frowned.

Good grief, they are going to find me here.

They’ll ask a couple of questions until the shock wears off and then drag me out to the streets by the ears, kick my face in thoroughly and then kill me.

“Through the garden?” She offered prettily.

“There’s a guard and a patrol starting at first dawn!”

“A thief came in once over the west wall, the one with the vines,” Miranda said scrunching her nose, when she approached him. “You should bathe more thoroughly.”

A thief, Storm blinked unsure.

“What happened to him?” He asked and she shrugged her shoulders.

“The headsman was away, so they cut off his ears and fingers I think? I wasn’t here,” she explained. Storm gulped down.

“I’ve a bad leg,” he protested weakly.

Miranda chuckled and reached to feel his hurting leg, her hand traveling to other parts of his body, also hurting. “It seemed fine to me. You are very talented, Storm,” she added looking at him behind long eyelashes and Storm decided he was going to climb the fuck out of that wall.

Men can turn right stupid for a half decent woman.

For the Alden Queen, Lord Nattas turned into an acrobat.

 

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A poor acrobat.

Storm landed on the cobblestone almost breaking an ankle, ruined vines, grit and pieces of wall along with him. He stayed there for a long moment, hurting in more than a couple of places and then attempted to get up.

Twice.

Secundus found him hobbling in the middle of the street and helped him back to their carriage. It had taken Lord Nattas more than an hour to make the small distance.

A well-rested Sudi waited for him to get inside, before coming after him, with Secundus climbing up the carriage to get the horses moving.

“Dammit chief,” Sudi said looking at his shocked expression. “How bad?”

“Uh, I think I fucked up,” Storm admitted with a deep sigh.

“Can we fix it somehow?” Sudi asked, sounding concerned.

Storm smacked his lips, then groaned. “I think I pulled something,” he complained. “I can’t believe I had to climb a fucking wall to get out of there!”

Sudi stood back on the leather couch across from him.

“Assassins? In the palace?”

“I was trying to escape the Queen’s quarters, Sudi.”

Sudi nodded, then paused confused. It lasted a brief moment, then his lackey turned right terrified.

“Aye,” Storm agreed seeing his face. “So we need to work around this problem.”

“Not if it’s a one-time thing, quickly forgotten,” Sudi offered.

“You know something? Yeah, that’s it,” Storm agreed with grimace of pain. “We’ll just put it out of our mind and move on.”

“Did anyone see you?” Sudi asked, never allowing him more than a brief moment of respite.

“I don’t think… maybe that servant that brought the missive,” Storm said thinking about it.

“I’ll get rid of him,” Sudi assured him.

“Discreetly,” Storm cautioned and glanced out of the small window at the still sleeping city of Alden.

Abrakas, I need you to offer a legitimate way out of this that doesn’t involve me getting thrown to the wolves.

 

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“How much?” Storm asked Sirio and the young historian raised his eyes from his scrolls.

“Three thousand gold Eagles, but you shoulder the repair of the bridge and paying the families,” Sirio elucidated.

“What happened to the bridge?”

“It collapsed from the rains. Most of the houses too. It lowered the price.”

What is this new shite?

“Like it’s gone completely? Do they use boats to cross the river?”

“That is correct,” Sirio replied.

It had a certain romantic touch to it though.

“Tell our guy to close the deal,” Storm decided. “But I’ll put a toll on the bridge.”

You stop paddling, you pay.

“What about the families?”

“They can stay, I’ll repair their houses.”

“Why keep them?”

“To make a barony out of the place,” Storm explained. “I need that shitty village to stay put.”

“So you’ll tax them?” Sirio asked blinking.

No, I’ll give them coin on top so they can visit Novesium brothels.

Abrakas toes, some people are clueless!

“They get to stay on my land. You think I shouldn’t?”

“Like produce to support a vacation villa?” Sirio shrugged his shoulders. “You’re right, it doesn’t seem like much.”

Storm was thinking of a bigger contribution, but he let it slide.

“It might be a big villa,” Lord Nattas informed him to leave the door open.

“Lord Ursus might not agree,” Sirio noted.

“If he signs off it would be too late, nobody would care about his opinion,” Storm explained.

“Don’t mention the development plan,” Siro repeated with a smile and wrote it down on his reply.

Storm sighed and rubbed his face to combat his drowsiness.

“You haven’t visited the palace in ten days,” Sirio commented.

The man is slowly starting to poke around, Storm thought eyeing him. He needs to have skin in the game. In the sense he must know that if I go down, or get the chop, then he might follow along. Then again he isn’t exactly the type to get motivated in this manner. Sirio was more of the romantic sort.

He’d given it some thought. Abrakas seemed to nudge him in that direction. In his dreams at least. While he didn’t trust that cunning god, Storm needed to keep the people around him motivated and committed. The assassin needed normalcy and a better cover and Sirio well…

“Maja must marry,” Storm announced, pretending he was troubled and Sirio flinched not expecting the change in subject. “The matter bothers me. So I have spent the time looking to find her something good.”

“She’s vacationing in Asturia,” Sirio said treading carefully.

“It’s a ruse,” Sirio admitted. “A lie. She’s gone to Valeria to get the Goddess blessing,” he added lying some more. “We’re getting desperate.”

“Ah, surely she isn’t that old,” Sirio defended her.

Storm stared at him knowingly. “You know she’s done stuff for me Sirio,” he told him earnestly.

Sirio gulped down and stared at his scrolls. “I understand.”

You have no fucking idea. But you must learn son.

“It ages a lass, even if it doesn’t show. The commitment takes its toll. There are wounds in there. Unseen. Not her fault of course.”

Sirio nodded. “I find her remarkable given the history and all we know.”

You don’t know shite.

“She might pretend to be all-knowing, but she isn’t. Not in all matters, people might take advantage of her and I want to prevent that. Her name and fortune is like a magnet for scum, or opportunists.”

“What do you mean Lord Nattas?” Sirio asked.

“Still she is family, you understand,” Storm continued, disregarding his query. “I can’t just turn a blind eye to everything.”

“Of course, I understand,” Sirio said, although he probably didn’t.

“You agree then?” Storm asked him, looking at the young Historian all serious. “It’s a serious burden to take on, but I value your character.”

Sirio frowned and stared at him alarmed. “Lord Nattas, I… haven’t done anything… with Lady Maja.”

“You’re going to lie to my face?” Storm queried, pretending to be disappointed.

Hurt even.

“It was the one time—”

“That I caught you,” Storm cut him off midsentence calmly.

Sirio blushed and looked at his scrolls.

“Had she not begged me, I would have been less lenient,” Storm stared at his empty goblet. “Truth is she always had a soft spot for scholarly types,” he added making it up as he went along. Maja would have to pick up the mess and follow his lines, if she wanted to be part of the family.

“She did?” Sirio asked a little surprised. “I thought with her kind of life—”

“I don’t want her to keep at it forever Sirio,” Storm stopped him.

“Of course, who would?” He added quickly.

“It’s also a good cover for you,” Storm elucidated.

Sirio cleared his throat and got a small comb out and used it to fix his well-oiled short cut hair. The young man had the best combed hair of any guy Storm had ever seen.

“Lord Nattas… are you giving me permission to court your daughter?” Sirio asked assuming a thoughtful expression and Storm stared at him for a moment before he burst out laughing.

“Good grief son, haha!” He stopped to calm himself down and reaching inside his right desk drawer got a vellum out filled with neat scribblings. Storm placed it on the office between them. Sirio reached and took it, his brows shooting up when he read the first couple of lines. “You will do well to sign it. Read it afterwards,” he sort of advised the shocked historian. Seeing Sirio was just about to have a heart attack Storm sighed deeply. “Take a deep breath and crack a smile for crying out loud! For fuck’s sake man, you just got married!”

 

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Secundus stopped him before he’d time to enter the throne room. Storm paused and eyed the guard staring at him under his helm. A new guy. Miranda keeps changing stuff around, he thought. He took the scroll Secundus had given him and perused it quickly.

“The ship left the port?” He asked and the hired warrior shrugged his shoulders. “Right. Any idea where it sailed to?”

“No cargo,” Secundus replied. “Sudi didn’t learn anything else.”

“It left empty?” Storm said and thought about it. He grunted not having an answer to that and stared at the new guard waiting for him to step inside the larger hall. “Tell Sudi to keep digging. Ah… or I’ll tell him myself later.”

He gave the guard another look and then walked inside the dark throne room.

 

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“Lord Nattas,” the Queen said seeing him walking inside. She was sitting at the scribe’s table, the man nowhere to be seen. There were though four palace guards watching him like hawks. “You have been busy, we hear.”

You were avoiding me, was her meaning.

“It was for matters of state, your Grace,” Storm replied, looking at a point over her head. The cut on Miranda’s dress was cavernous.

“Anything we should know?” Miranda asked frostily.

“I wouldn’t burden your Grace with it.”

“We can… take the burden off your hands Lord Nattas.”

“I could prepare a report your Grace,” he replied in his most clerkly manner.

“We shall receive your report, after our meal,” Miranda told him. “You shall wait on us.”

“Of course your Grace,” Storm replied and bowed his head.

 

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Storm stepped inside the Queen’s quarters and paused seeing a large armed man standing next to the big window facing the gardens. Miranda got up from the expensive writing desk and walked towards him.

“This is Sir Arthur Tatum,” she said with a smile. “He’s guarding me since I was a girl, right Sir Tatum?”

“Since you were seven Lady Miranda,” the man replied casually, his accent marking him as a Knight from Aegium.

“Am I not your Queen Sir Tatum?” Miranda asked with a gasp and slapped the plate on his shoulder.

“You were always a Queen Lady Miranda,” he replied.

“Aww, there… he’s very unruly,” she told Storm, who faked a smile. It came out so forced, he just gave up on it half-way through.

“Extremely loyal,” Miranda added, looking at him.

“That’s commendable, Sir Tatum,” Storm mumbled, sweating profusely.

“Lord Nattas, is avoiding me Arthur,” Miranda continued. “Taking advantage of my kindness.”

Are you fucking kidding me? Storm glared at her and she took a step back surprised. What is this, a game? Are you trying to have us killed?

“You are to escort him here, when I ask you,” Miranda said after taking a moment to collect herself.

“Of course my Queen,” Sir Tatum replied and stared at Storm, as if daring him to argue.

The last thing on Storm’s mind was to wrestle that square-jawed brute.

“You can wait outside Sir Tatum,” Miranda told him pleased. “See that no one bothers us.”

The Knight bowed his head and walked past a seething Storm and out of the Queen’s quarters.

“Are you insane?” Storm hissed the moment the door closed behind them. “If people find out, it will be a short trip to the gallows, or the headsman blade!”

“Sir Tatum won’t talk,” Miranda said unbothered. “I wanted to show you. You don’t need to worry.”

“Everybody talks,” Storm snapped and bit his tongue seeing her flinch away shocked. “It’s my job… I see people spill their guts every day Lady Miranda.”

“Hmm, it appears Storm has a backbone,” she taunted and walked towards a silver tray that held several bottles of liquor and wine. “I thought I bedded another man. An illusion that turned into a coward the moment the light came up.”

Storm licked his lips and looked about the large room. There could be ten people listening in. Has she talked to her maids? Surely not. I could get rid of the knight. Maybe use Maja… no Maja was at Riverdor waiting for his missive. Ah, curse it all!

“The King thinks you’re coward, but I never believed it,” Miranda continued. “A womanizer,” she blushed at that. “You have talent for sure there,” she added, her look ravenous.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

“We play. Are you not my lover Storm? Why, I can feel you still inside me… I’ve never tasted such passion before. Was it all a show?”

Not it wasn’t. That’s the fucking problem.

“We shouldn’t be together,” he said simply.

“That ship has sailed Storm,” Miranda said and poured a glass of wine for herself. “I’ve seen you in my dreams,” she added without looking at him. “Every night since my little girl died you come in my bed. The God speaks to me through you.”

Fuck you Abrakas. You vile deity.

“It’s dangerous to follow the Kraken’s dreams,” he told her, what she should’ve known. Then again Storm was doing it as well. They were both slowly sinking to Abrakas gullet.

“I asked him to bring my Silvie back,” Miranda gasped and started shaking all over. Storm grimaced and stared at his expensive boots. He could feel a twitch of pain in his leg, but the old injury was slowly retreating. A miracle. All it took for it was an innocent woman getting blown to smithereens. “And there you came,” she continued with a sniffle. “The god’s disciples must be together.”

“It’s just a tale Miranda,” Storm told her. “Gods only take. There is no coming back. Silvie is gone. I’m sorry.”

“You’re wrong or you’re lying,” she said and walked slowly towards the open window. The light coming in making her appear ethereal. “The King thinks you are also the smartest man in the Kingdom. Nattas will get it done, he always says.”

“I can’t bring the dead back to life and if people find out I’ve slept with you, they’ll kill me without a second thought. I’m not a Lord. It’s a position I have. I’m just the guy that does the jobs no one fancies.”

“What if you were?” She asked him, looking out of the window.

“I can’t ask for a reward, on something I can’t provide.”

“Was your passion a lie?”

“It wasn’t.”

“You want me to let you go?” She asked him.

“What’s the alternative?” Storm asked her. “We can’t live on dreams Miranda.”

“You love my name Storm,” the Queen said and turned to look at his flushed face. Storm puffed out and shrugged his shoulders.

“The Kraken God lies, it knows my weakness.”

“I’m your weakness?” She asked a gleam in her eyes.

Uh.

“I must go,” Storm said sadly. He didn’t want to leave her, but life is never fair and Storm knew that. Abrakas had his fun and now it was over. “Better to shatter the illusion now, before it is too late. In the end you’ll realize it was all a lie.”

“I want that house amidst the palm trees,” Miranda said as he turned to walk away. Storm froze and twisted around alarmed. “The white sands and the blue of the sea. I’m happy in that dream Storm. More happy than sad. Hopeful. I feel miserable now.”

“How did you know about it?” Storm asked her more than a little freaked out.

“I told you,” Miranda replied and approached him. “The God speaks to me.”

Ah, darn it, Storm groaned inwardly, when he realized he was kissing her.

 

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More than two months later Storm was standing on the guardtower, just after another strong downpour had washed out the streets of Alden. The old city hadn’t managed to grow on him at all. The narrow streets and enclosed buildings behind the walls. The stinking moat and the drawbridges making it like they were all imprisoned there. Miranda wanted to leave and return to Cartagen, or anywhere near the south coast of Regia, but couldn’t since the King was still at the Conference.

The whole thing had dragged for far too long, Storm thought. But anything was better than trouble escalating. Anything was better, but there are also plenty of things that could be worse. Not the kind of fucking-the-queen worse, but something much more sinister.

He saw the gold tiger atop the long staff the moment it came over the north drawbridge, the rows of horses and carriages following behind it. The Legion had returned and Storm watched with a strange sense of foreboding its approach towards the main square just behind the half destroyed Dome. The banner of Lord Holt marking he was in command, the Fair Lady billowing after the gold tiger’s head. It wasn’t strange for the King’s Shield to lead the Legion and Lord Holt carried a well-documented favor for the army, but no one had more love for the Legion than the King himself.

No one could lead anything with King Alistair present. Storm clenched his jaw, the worry turning to fear, as he watched the young rider galloping wildly towards the palace and the guards coming out of the building at a fast trot. It was the sight of an officer, a Prefect for all intends and purposes, appearing with his right arm bandaged, the part of it that wasn’t missing that alarmed him the most.

Prefect Ligur had both his arms when the Legion had left Alden almost three months back. Storm turned around, the eyes of the guard standing next to him tense and he heard the heavy boots of a man climbing the stairs two at a time to reach the top of the tower.

Ah, vile Abrakas. What in Oras Hells did you do? Storm wondered, just as a wild eyed Secundus burst out of the door, breathing heavy and flushed.

“Milord,” Secundus gasped trying to speak and breathe at the same time. “Yer wanted at the Palace posthaste. It’s the king.”

 

 

And he had his answer.