Nyssa (Goddess of War Series Book 1) Read online

  It was at that moment, my mind screamed at me to stop. This man had taken my father to his death, tried to do the same to my brother and then brought me here to pimp me to his friend. I thought about how he would finish with me and then leave me here to be washed and cleaned and taken to Lord Odyn. He would go back to his chamber or maybe to a whorehouse while I was being used by another man. The man who was kissing me right now was General Astarin Roeseer. With that last thought I pulled my mouth away from his and using my free hand, I slapped him across the cheek. He reeled back from me, looking genuinely shocked. He was still straddling me so I pressed my palms against his hard chest and pushed against him. “Get off me,” I hissed. He didn’t look angry; he looked hurt. He raised his hand toward my face, slowly as though he were going to touch me, and then shaking his head sadly, he turned and walked out.

  After he left, I drew my legs up onto the bed and wrapped my arms around them, hugging my knees under my chin.

  A short while later, Gidren timidly knocked and entered the room. When she saw me like that she ran to my side. “Nyssa. What is it? Are you all right?” She sat next to me on the bed, taking in the disarray of the covers and throws.

  “I’m fine, Gidren.” I sighed.

  “D-did the General hurt you, Nyssa?” She was looking at me with wide eyes, and I wanted to laugh. She was getting married soon and she was more naïve than I was.

  “No, he didn’t hurt me. I’m honestly okay.” I gave her a smile, and she looked relieved. I wasn’t sure if that was because she was glad I wasn’t hurt or glad because I wasn’t about to shatter the pedestal she kept him on. A little of both probably.

  Gidren dutifully ran my bath, and the heat of the water mixed with the scent of the rose petals she dropped in to it, made me feel a little better about my encounter with the General. I felt bad for taunting him. I shouldn’t have done it. His kiss had taken me completely unawares, but I had wanted to respond to him. I didn’t want him to stop, I wanted the exact opposite, truth be told. My mind started to wander back to the feel of his lips on mine, his body pressing down on me. I touched my fingers to my slightly swollen lower lip. Gods, he is fierce.

  Gidren broke the spell when she walked into the bathing room, clucking at me to get out and get dressed. I obliged her and quickly dried myself off. I walked into the bed chamber, and she helped me into a jade green night dress, embroidered in gold with tiny pearls sewn to the material. It was beautiful, and it complimented my copper hair perfectly. It was just as revealing as the midnight blue dress had been, though, and I frowned but allowed her to fasten the clasp at my waist, securing me in. I walked automatically to the chair by the dressing table so she could apply my make-up and work my hair into one of her apparently never-ending range of intricate designs.

  Instead of coming over to attend me, she shook her head. “No, Nyssa. He has asked for you to come to him as yourself tonight. No make-up and no hairstyles.” She watched me closely to see how I responded. She knew I hated the make-up.

  I was surprised, and as I mulled this over, I brightened slightly. “Does that mean I can wear pants and a tunic?” I winked at her.

  “Absolutely not,” she scolded jokingly. She seemed to have forgotten her worry over the General, and I was glad. I couldn’t think about him right now. Even though our mood was light, I knew that in a few minutes, the guard would call for me and take me to Lord Odyn. I also knew there really was no escaping him this time. I had thought it over many times in my head. If he wanted to punish me, he could send the General back to Lyte Harbour and collect Haydyn and my mother. He could hurt me or even kill me if he wanted to. I had managed to evade him the last time we met, but I didn’t think he would tolerate it a second time.

  There was a knock at the door, and I gave Gidren a quick hug and walked over to open it. The only person at the door was my own armed guard. I looked at him puzzled. “Lord Odyn has requested you make your way to his chamber,” he said simply.

  “What?” I stood with my mouth open for a second. I looked back toward Gidren who just shrugged at me and indicated that I should go. I pulled myself together and started to walk down the corridor. It felt so strange to be alone. I had become used to having someone with me every minute, except for when I slept. Although even then someone still came in every night to leave my breakfast on the dresser. What are you up to, Lord Odyn? I wondered as I walked.

  This was an entirely different experience than my last journey to his room. I realised that it felt like I was going there of my own free will. That annoyed me, because I wasn’t. I was going there because I had no other choice. Too soon, though, I arrived at his door, and I stopped trying to second guess him. I pushed those thoughts to one side and took a deep breath as his guard opened the door and announced, “Mistress Nyssa, my lord.”

  As I walked into the room, I wondered at how familiar it felt to me. I had only been there twice before, and one of those times I had been disgracefully drunk. But I remembered almost everything about it. Then my breath caught in my throat as I took in the new addition. He’d had a table placed in the middle of the floor with two chairs that were so ornately decorated, they looked like thrones placed on either side. The table was laid for dinner for two, with plates and cutlery and a pitcher of wine.

  He stepped forward and gestured for me to sit down. He must have just bathed. His hair was still wet and tiny droplets of water peppered those blood red strands. The drops caught the candlelight and winked, making his hair look almost like it was made of fire.

  I sat down, stunned. I really didn’t know what to say to this man. This man who was totally different from the one who called me to him last.

  He poured himself wine from the pitcher and then started to fill my cup. He hesitated half way, and his eyes met mine. “Are you going to behave yourself if I let you drink this?”

  I felt the anger rise up inside me for a moment, and then I looked, really looked at him, and I saw the corners of his mouth twitch upward in silent mirth, his black eyes shining ever so slightly. He had made a joke. He was teasing me about my antics when I was last here. I couldn’t help the surprised smile that touched my lips in return. “Yes, my lord.” I replied.

  “Good,” was all he said as he filled my cup.

  He reached across the table and gently cupped my chin in his hand. He tilted my face toward the candle-flame so my features were illuminated, and he studied me. “Much better,” he whispered huskily.

  I looked into his eyes and felt my courage build a little in the face of this new and improved Lord Odyn. “So I don’t look like a whore tonight?” I asked.

  His fingers tightened, almost imperceptibly around my chin at that. Then they relaxed again. “No. Tonight you are beautiful, Nyssa.”

  He let go of my chin, and I gasped at the way he’d said my name. The door opened then, and several maids carried in trays and platters of food. I had thought the food served in my chamber was luxurious, but this was on a completely different level. There were buffalo steaks, pheasant, chicken, pastries, quiches, and at least seven different types of vegetables, each cooked in a different style. There was bread seasoned with garlic and coriander and a three-tier cheese platter surrounded by chutneys of every different fruit.

  “You eat very well, Lord Odyn.” It almost sounded like an accusation, and I bit my tongue in annoyance with myself. Why say something like that when this was going so much better than I could have hoped?

  He didn’t get angry, though. “I don’t usually eat this way. I usually have my cooks bring me whatever the castle soldiers are having. Tonight, this is for you.”

  I took a sip of wine. He had surprised me again. “Thank you my lord. You are very kind.”

  We both started to eat. The food was excellent and the wine was far sweeter than the usual drink I was left in my room. Although I was careful to pace myself, only taking small sips every once in a while. As we ate, my mind raced. I couldn’t believe how different he was tonight. He was dressed in his ca
sual black clothing, but that was where any similarity ended. It felt almost as though we were a normal couple, dining together, well, except for the part where he would soon enough blackmail me into his bed with threats against me and my family.

  “I received bad tidings from the north today,” he said, breaking through my thoughts.

  I struggled to think how to reply to him. This conversation sounded more and more like a married couple discussing their day together over dinner by the minute. I had been totally caught off guard. “I know. I saw General Roeseer earlier,” I replied. Then I cursed inside my head as I saw his eyes flash with anger.

  What an idiot, I thought to myself. In ten minutes of conversation, he had persuaded me to let my guard down and say too much, and it wasn’t just myself I needed to protect, but the General too. I quickly continued. “I-I saw the General return from his trip, and Bernhardt said that he looked worried.”

  He relaxed at that, settling back into his chair and picking at his food. He hadn’t eaten very much, and I was starting to feel a little self-conscious over the amount I had managed to put away. I sat back a little and took a gulp of my wine.

  “In light of the news I received from Astarin, I have decided Castle Kytara will hold an outdoor feast day for everyone in the capital. It would seem that we will soon be at war again, and I think our people would respond well to some fun.” He didn’t look like he thought it would be fun. He practically grimaced as he spoke.

  I felt the familiar tight fear in my stomach when he said we would soon be at war again. So, Bernhardt was right to be worried.

  He continued. “As is customary of my mistresses, you will attend as my partner and sit beside me throughout.”

  Yes, that urge to slap him was coming back quite quickly. But I bit back my first response, instead saying, “In a time of war I would have thought you would stockpile food not give it away in one grand gesture.” It probably wasn’t much of an improvement on my first choice of words, but it was the best I could do. He had relaxed me too much tonight.

  He wasn’t angry. In fact I saw a flicker of amusement at my response, and I thought perhaps even something that looked like admiration. Then he sobered. “Heryn and Lerwyn have united against us. Their forces match us man for man. When I send those men out there,” he gestured vaguely toward the window, “hundreds or thousands of them will likely die, and what is more, they will know that they go to their deaths, but they will go anyway. What is a day of indulgence compared to that?”

  I looked at him as he spoke, his eyes were so very sad. He looked as though the weight of the world sat on his shoulders and in that moment, I felt the slightest start of respect for who and what he was.

  Yet even so he was still sending men he had recruited by force to be killed just so he could be a king and not a Valhar. “They have little choice, though, do they?” I heard myself say. “Yes you have some loyal soldiers who will fight for you because they want to or because they like it, they like to fight and to kill. But what about those people who didn’t choose it? What about their families? What about…” I trailed off. I had almost asked what about my father? But this man wouldn’t even remember my father’s face.

  “You don’t get it,” he shot back at me. “Why would you? You’re a woman, you’re soft and kind of heart.” I glared at him. “If I don’t send my scouts. If Astarin isn’t the most terrifying man he can be when he prowls those villages and towns, taking recruits by force? Then answer me this, Nyssa? Would they line up to volunteer? Would they come running to the Capital to nail their colours to the mast? Would our army have a shot, a real shot at ending this thing forever? Or would Heryn and Lerwyn crush us? Leaving Faryn Tarnfell as King of Ankh Shdaar.”

  I paled at that, remembering Gidren’s story of how Lord Tarnfell cut down the men and raped the women of her village, and I was afraid. The only thing protecting us from that monster was this man who sat before me.

  He didn’t stop there. “Have you heard of Faryn Tarnfell? Have you ever met him? Your maid could tell you a little about him, I’m sure.”

  That shocked me. He knew that General Roeseer had come to Gidren’s aid, and he had given her a place on his staff to help her. I felt as though everything inside my world I had ever believed to be true had been turned on its head. I felt more lost than ever.

  He reached across the table, the uncertainty must have been evident on my face, as I realised everything was not as I had thought it was. I felt him take my hand in his as he said, “Who did I take from you, Nyssa? Who did I take, that you hate me so much?” The sadness in his voice and the pain in his black eyes was so profound I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I looked at him. “My father. You took my father from me.”

  He sat back and let go of my hand, and I was shocked to realise I felt the loss of his touch. The warmth of his fingers, wrapped around mine had comforted me. “What was your father’s name?” I hadn’t said his name in such a long time, it was an effort to call it to my lips. “His name was Geryn Chyme,” I whispered as more tears fell.

  “I am sorry for it. I truly am,” he replied softly. Then he stood and walked toward the window, looking out at the darkness as though to give me a private moment in my grief.

  “I am not a good man, Nyssa. I took the mantle of Valhar when I was a boy, and I wasn’t good then. My whole life has been about war and death. Privately, I could have been a better man. I could have treated certain people in a kinder way. But I don’t. It’s just who I am. It’s who I need to be. If we are to truly stop this war, then I need men to fight and so help me, I will keep taking them from their homes and from the ones who love them if that is what it takes. If this carries on for another hundred years, how many more will die? I have become what I needed to be to win this war. I have given away every part of myself that is good, but I can’t win it alone. I can’t bring peace as one man. No one could do that, not even the Keshkana, not even a man who is touched by death.”

  He surprised me a little when he used the nickname for himself. He still had his back to me. The light of the candles had been beaten back by the light of the moon, shining through the balcony window. In our histories, the God of War, Asmodeus, was ruled by the sun, burning up the battlefield on his golden war horse. Shyara, the Goddess of Death, was governed by the moon. Her silver light stealing away life in the dark of the night. In that moment, he truly was “touched by death” as though she were reaching out to caress him with her luminescent rays. His whole body was bathed in moonshine, and he looked like a shadow. Like he didn’t belong on earth.

  The gravity of the moment stretched out for an endless time, and then he turned back to me with a bitter smile. His next words made me start. It was almost as though he knew what I had been thinking as I watched him standing there. “So we will feast and dance and drink and laugh, and the Goddess will walk among us, and decide who she will take and who she will spare.”

  I bowed my head, wondering if she would take this man who looked like a god himself. Framed by the moonlit window but with the fire of the candles now catching his face, he was an awesome sight to behold. I wondered if she would take the General, a man whom I had hated for so long, whom I thought to be so evil and who seemed like more and more of a good man with every passing day. “I think a feast is a wonderful idea.” I finally answered as I sought to control my emotions.

  “Good.” was his only reply.

  Odyn

  After she left him, Odyn returned to the window and stared out at the moonlit gardens. He felt too hot, and truth be told he was turned on. The scent of roses from her clean skin lingered in the air even after she was gone, and it was sending his head into a frenzy. He opened the glass doors and stepped out into the darkness. He couldn’t believe he had opened up to her like that. He’d told her about the threat from Lerwyn and Heryn. He’d told her that war was imminent. Half his lieutenants didn’t even know what was coming, and he’d gone and told this girl everything.

  What the fuck had possesse
d him? he wondered angrily. He was a lord of war, leader of a state about to go to battle for the future of the whole country and he was telling stories like a child in nursery. And the worst thing was he still hadn’t fucked her. He bunched his fists and pressed them hard against the stonework on top of the balcony wall. He’d just let her leave without so much as a goodnight kiss. Gods, he was pathetic.

  Over the last few days, he had thought long and hard about their last encounter. Yes, the girl had been steaming drunk when she last came to him. Obviously, she had been trying to obliterate the time she spent with him from her mind. So, he had worked out an alternative plan of attack. He was a Valhar, with a lifetime of battle experience behind him. He knew how to fall back and organise a rally when the fight was going against him. So, he had decided to stage a charm offensive.

  He had spoken the truth when he told her that he had never taken an unwilling woman to his bed. He was no Faryn Tarnfell. In fact, the first chance he got to open that bastard’s gut, he’d take it with a smile on his face, and a song in his heart. He’d never understood men who enjoyed war. It was an unnatural concept for him. War was an abomination. It wreaked havoc and death. Brought misery to all who it touched. He should know. He considered himself an expert in the art, after all. But he was an expert through necessity and not bloodlust.

  The other type of lust however? That was something he did enjoy. He wanted her and he wanted to hear her say she wanted him too. He imagined slowly undoing the clasp of her dress and freeing that glorious body into the candlelight. The thought of lifting her up and taking her to his bed, throwing her down on the soft covers and running his hands all over her pale and beautiful body while she writhed beneath his touch, made him growl as though he were in pain. He ground his fists into the stone, and the sting of real pain brought him back to himself.

  He had thought if he allowed her to walk to his chamber alone, she would feel as though it was her decision to come to him. He knew women liked to say they were independent, but he also knew they liked it when you made them feel special. Truth be told, he had thought that some good food and wine and a little obvious pre-planning would have been enough to bring her round. He had also thought offering a feast to the rich and poor alike in the capital would have appealed to her softer side and she would have liked the idea of a party.