Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Science-Fiction,
Historical,
Fantasy fiction,
Fantasy,
Epic,
Great Britain,
greece,
Labyrinths,
Brutus the Trojan (Legendary character),
Troy (Extinct city)
case,” Genvissa continued, her voice still very low, her hand stroking very gently, her face, her mouth, very close to his, “then what need will I—and this land—have of this strange man and his strange magic? Og will be resurgent again, in you, and then you and I…you and I…”
There was barely a coherent thought left in Loth’s mind at this point, but he clung to it grimly. “Then if you have no need for this strange man, if all you need is for me to take revenge on Blangan to break the darkcraft which binds Og, why bring him here in the first instance?”
“Because I need him to bring to us Blangan…and because you might fail. Blangan may be too strong for you. If you fail, then I will need him to—”
“I will not fail!”
She only smiled, and increased the pressure of her hand.
Loth closed his eyes, fought for some control, and managed to find it. “Why not my father? Why not tell Aerne this? Why not send him to—”
“Aerne is an old man. Weak. Blangan bested him once before. Neither you nor I nor this land can afford it to happen again. You must do this, Loth. I need a strong man, Loth.” There was infinite promise in the manner she said “need”. “Not your father. Never your father.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, and that was the final weapon that shattered the resistance both of Loth’s mind and of his body.
He shuddered under her hand, and sighed, then nodded.
“You spoke with Loth?”
They were in her bed now, sweaty and relaxed from sex.
“Aye.” Genvissa pushed her body even tighter against Aerne’s. “He has come around to my plan.”
“My dear,” Aerne’s hand stroked her shoulder, as if apologising for what he was about to say, “I accept that you need this man to counter Og’s weakness…but will you perhaps confide in me what he will do? How it is that his magic will protect this land?”
Genvissa lay silent for a while, thinking over what she should tell Aerne. Eventually, as Aerne waited patiently, she decided that a little of the truth might not hurt too much.
“This man, Brutus, controls part of what is called the Game.”
“The Game?”
“Aye…you know that my fifth foremother was not of this land?”
“Aye.” Aerne smiled and moved his hand to Genvissa’s luxuriant black hair. “Thus these dark curls of yours.”
“She came from a land in the southern waters of a sea called the Aegean, Aerne. In her world, in this Aegean world, the great men of power used something called the Game to protect their lands. When my fifth foremother came to this land, she truly became as all Llangarlians…but she remembered what she knew of the Game, and taught it to her daughter, as her daughter passed it on to her daughter, and thus to me.”
Aerne felt a flicker of unease. “Do you mean that all the MagaLlans, from the time of your fifth foremother to you, have secret knowledge of power other than that of Mag and Og?”
Displeased, Genvissa propped herself up on an elbow. “Indeed!” she said. “And what a good thing, too, otherwise this land would face certain ruin!”
Aerne laughed softly, apologetically. “Of course, Genvissa, forgive me.”
She lay down again, nestling her breasts against his chest.
“Please,” Aerne said, fighting down his arousal, “tell me more of this Game.”
Genvissa shrugged, as if the subject was now of no interest to her. “It is a powerful spell-weaving which uses both male and female power to protect a land against all evil set against it. There are very few left who know how to manipulate the Game, who know how to use it…two people, in fact. Myself and this man I have summoned to us, this Kingman.”
And one who will want to destroy it, she thought, but Asterion is far away, and no threat.
“Once, many people within the Aegean world knew how to play the Game,” Genvissa continued, “but over past generations the knowledge has died, as have the people who had access to the Game’s secrets. This
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