Chronicles of Raan

Raina’s Wedding (A BDSM Fantasy Novel)


By Tara Crescent





Chapter 1: Return to Argentia




I am Raina, Sorceress Queen of Argentia. This is my story.

Celebration filled the land as the news spread of Salif’s return and the death of the old Mage King. From city to city across Argentia, the people rejoiced. The old king had ruled by fear alone. Salif, mild, self-possessed, a vivid contrast every time he had appeared in public, was welcomed by the populace with relief and joy.

“This is insane…” Salif sent to me through our mind-link, as we were yet again greeted by the cheering throngs, this time in the main square of the capital city. We had been touring the country; Salif taking stock of the ravages of the last twenty years. I could feel his anger grow as he’d studied his country. His father had not been a good steward, either of his harem, or of his country.


My betrothed would be different.

Salif’s rage was at its coldest when he’d entered the arena.

“What manner of insanity is this, Raina?” His voice was soft. Dangerous. “Explain.” His words were to me.

I gulped. The truth would hurt him, but Salif would be able to tell if I lied to him. I summoned my courage.

“Your father liked to watch pain. Katya’s death opened the floodgates of his mind. In this arena, he watched the fights to fuel his mind-lust…” My voice trailed off. I was reliving the horrors of the arena, at the depths the old king had plumbed for his satisfaction.

My mind was unshielded; Salif could read some of the horrors I shrank from remembering. The sick perversity of the arena, where all had suffered and died.

“How did the witches permit this?” His voice was ice.

I quailed before his wrath. “The witches don’t explain themselves, Mage King.” I used his title as a reminder of the delicate balance between the Witch Council and Argentia.

He was not appeased. There was death in his eyes; the Arena Master would not live to see another dawn.

****

“We rejoice in your return to Argentia, Mage King.” The representative of the Witches of Raan bowed before Salif; exactly the proper bow to the Crescent Throne of Argentia.

But Salif was in no mood for nicety. His voice was arrogant and cold. “I seek one who will speak for the Witch Council.”

I knew my betrothed feared the witches, as all did in Argentia, but he hid it well. He was utterly the ruler of his kingdom. Despite the tension in the room, my knees grew weak, and my p-ssy moistened. Salif was two men; one kind, patient, laughing; the other cold, arrogant; with the full power of the Crescent Throne behind him. I wasn’t sure which man I craved more.

The representative straightened, looked into Salif’s eyes, gauging the depth of this new Mage King. He nodded once. “I will call to my council, Mage King.” He turned and left the Throne Room.

Scarce five minutes had elapsed, and we could both feel the crackle in the air, the sense of electricity that accompanied a materialization. I gulped as I saw who had appeared. The Mother Superior herself; head of the council of the Witches of Raan. She was the most powerful person on our world; perhaps in all the galaxy.

Salif stood. He inclined his head in the precise bow of courtesy due a superior. But he wasn’t cowed. His voice, when he spoke, was level, and his words were direct. “How could you permit this destruction of my people?”

The Mother Superior stilled. Her face was hidden by her cowl, but her hands were withered. I turned to Salif with some urgency, but Salif had read the situation precisely. He turned to his Chief Advisor. “I will speak with the Mother Superior in private.” The words were clipped.

“Your will, Mage King.” The Chief Advisor bowed, but Salif had already turned to leave – courteously gesturing the Mother Superior ahead of him, his inherent politeness taking over, despite his truly formidable anger. I hesitated, unsure whether I should stay in the Throne Room, or follow.

“Sweet Raina,” Salif’s voice spoke in my mind, his words a gentle caress. “I always need you by my side. Come.” I flushed; there was intimacy in his voice. I was suddenly, vividly reminded that we hadn’t been intimate for fifteen years; that the urgency of tending to his country had kept the Mage King away from my chambers. I missed the feel of him. It had been so long…

“Indeed, my sweet bride-to-be. I crave the feel of you as well.” His voice was a purr in my mind. I flushed. I’d left the mind-link open; Salif had caught my thoughts.

I kept my head bowed as I entered the antechamber to the Throne Room. The Mother Superior was already seated; an attendant had placed food and drink on a table, and had left us.

Salif laced his fingers in tightly-held control. “You have much to explain.” His voice was flat as he addressed the Mother Superior. He knew how close he walked to the chasm of their wrath, but there was no fear in him. A true Mage King; his anger at the wrongs done to his people holding his fear in momentary check.

“Would you have us trample on the sovereignty of Argentia, Mage King?” The Mother Superior’s voice was a rasp. I clenched my fingers into my palm; my nails drawing blood.

“We all know the extent of Argentia sovereignty.” Salif was not cowed. “You have a duty to the people.” He glared at the woman, trying to see her features hidden in the cowl.

A battle of wills. Then, a lessening of the tension. Then, the Mother Superior turned and spoke to me, her voice warmer. “I like this Mage King. You have chosen well, Sorceress.”

She looked at Salif, her voice level. “We do not have the habit of explaining ourselves, Mage King. But this one time, explanation is due.”

She rose, poured herself a drink from the sideboard, and lowered her cowl. The face was old and withered, but her eyes were bright. There was steel in this woman.

“Many precautions are taken to keep our presence a secret in the galaxy, Mage King. You know this. You know the smallest handful of people that are aware of our existence; the even smaller handful that are aware of our powers. In Argentia, there are fewer than five who know the full power of the Witch Council.”

Salif nodded. He had learned this when he had been designated as Heir.

“We are hidden because our power is best wielded in secrecy.” Her voice was wry. “And so, we watched the degeneration in Argentia. The twisted path your father took.”

She sipped her drink, wiped her hand against her mouth as a few drops spilled. “We dared not move directly against him; that would reveal our presence. Your father knew the line he walked; knew that we wouldn’t move openly against him.”

I listened to this in silence. Some of the story I knew; some was new to me.

“We moved therefore, in the most subtle of ways. We sent assassins; they were killed before they succeeded. We tried poison; your father’s tasters died. The Mage King was wily. Finally, your intended bride appeared before us.”

I remembered the scene well. It had taken my clan eight years and the accumulated wealth of generations to find a guard who would talk to us about who was responsible for Katya’s death.

“A pleasure slave destroyed. An abomination.” Her voice was death. The pleasure slaves of Argentia; the secret weapon the witches used to shape the galaxy to their wishes. The one secret above all.

“We trained a weapon. The Sorceress Raina.” She inclined her head towards me. “She was trained for six long years in the ways of the pleasure slaves. For we determined that your father’s harem was the last remaining place of attack. We disguised her, we hid her magic until the key moment. Until your father’s guard was down; the moment his seed was spilled.”

I had told Salif how his father had been killed. My time in his harem. I had feared his rejection after I told him the depths to which I had to fall to fulfil my blood oath. But I had underestimated my beloved. Salif had held me in his arms as the tears had fallen from my eyes; his lips finding mine in gentlest understanding. “Can you ever forgive me?” I’d asked as I wept in his arms. And he gazed at my face, his eyes blazing his love for me, and said, the sweetest words I’ve ever heard in my life. “There was never anything to forgive, my love.”

“You judge your people ill-served by us, Mage King. But we serve the entire galaxy. The sufferings of a few are balanced by the needs of many.” Her voice signalled an end to the explanation. She looked at Salif, her voice hard, a warning in it. “Tend to your country well, Mage King. And know this. We will not tolerate another reign of terror.”


She turned to me, and this time, her gaze was warm. “Sorceress Raina. Daughter. We have used you as weapon, and we owe you our thanks. You have the gratitude of the Witch Council. Summon us if you ever have need of us.”

A wave of a hand, and she was gone.

I gazed at Salif, afraid of what I would read in his eyes. But he was looking amused. “It appears that I must walk carefully with you, my Raina. You have friends in high places.” He grinned, his smile reaching his eyes, a caress in his voice. “Ah, the games we will play, my queen…”

His eyes promised much. I swallowed; my nipples hardening, betraying my excitement; heat gushing in my p-ssy. I lowered my eyes, submitting to him completely. “Your will, Mage King.”