Mark of the Phoenix

Chapter One: The King

The large, ornately carved door swung open at the same time the knock sounded.

"Your majesty," the Lord Chancellor said, as he strode purposefully into the room uninvited.

The king sighed as the woman in his lap squealed in surprise and slid to the floor, grasping at her discarded dress in an effort to cover her naked body.

"What is it, Ambrost? Can't you see I'm busy here?" Annoyed, the king used one booted foot to kick the woman's gown closer to her. He was less concerned about her modesty than he was with shutting up her incessant screeching.

"I'm sorry, Sire, but this is quite urgent. I must speak to you," the chancellor replied, his unapologetic tone belying his words.

The king ran his gaze over the lithe young woman that was now hovering on the chaise, her gown draped over the important bits of her body. The make-shift cover did nothing to hide her ample curves and the pink flush of her lust-heated skin, but her face was contorted into a mask that was a mixture of shame at being discovered and annoyance at being interrupted. He sighed again. The mood was completely lost. It would take him forever to coax her back into the smiling, uninhibited mood she'd been in moments before.

It was too bad. The young woman, a kitchen maid, if he remembered correctly, had shown incredible potential to be a lusty and enthusiastic, if unskilled, bed partner. He stood and walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a woven blanket. Pulling the blonde maid to her feet, he wrapped the blanket around her. He took the opportunity to slide his hand down her back and over her plump, bare derriere. He gave it a little squeeze and maid emitted a sensual moan. Yes, he decided, he would definitely have to have this one brought to his chambers again.

"Off you go," he told her, giving her bottom a sharp smack.

She squeaked, pulled the blanket around her tighter, and scurried out the still open door. The guard in the hall averted his eyes from the fleeing woman. He was accustomed to giving the king's women the allusion of privacy and discretion.

The king flopped down onto the chaise. "This had better be good. She was just about to show me how excited she was to have finally caught the king's eye."

"Yes, I could see that," Lord Chancellor Ambrost replied, his tone flat. "However, I'm certain you will agree that this was of the utmost importance."

The king waved a hand. "Yes, yes, get on with it." He wanted this business over with so he could find someone to slake the lust the kitchen maid had so thoroughly stirred up.

"A dimension portal opened somewhere in the kingdom," the chancellor said in his stuffy, self-proud manner.

The king sat up, all thoughts of sex gone, at least for the moment. "Where? Can you tell if its portal in or out? "

"It was an incoming portal. I have a spell in place that magically locks all outgoing portals within the borders of Telassa, whether they are known to me or not. Anyone who tries to open one would be unsuccessful, and the magic tracers on the citizens would alert and the offender would be tracked and arrested."

The king waved his hand impatiently. He knew all about the tracers, he'd ordered them after all. "Okay, so which portal opened? From what realm?"

The chancellor shifted his weight from foot to foot. "It's not possible to tell, Sire. The energy disturbance of a portal is large enough that I can sense it when one is activated, but there is no way to detect where in the kingdom it is. There are potentially dozens of portals, sire."

Irritation flooded the Riordan. He glared at his advisor. "Can you tell me anything useful at all?"

Ambrost's demeanor was unperturbed by the king's ire. "The length of time the portal was open and the fluctuations in the energy suggest only one person came through."

"So, no invading force." Relief flooded the king and was quickly replaced by curiosity. Could it be possible? Could it finally be time? Could his plans finally be coming together? Excitement raced through is veins. "Is this the one you foretold?"

The Lord Chancellor's stoic façade slipped enough for a slight smile to curve his lips. "It is possible. The timing seems to be in line with my vision. I won't know for sure until I can get close to the person."

"Then make it happen," the Riordan ordered.

"Of course, Sire," Ambrost nodded. "I'll send a regiment out to search."

"Do it, but I want you to personally investigate all reported, or even rumored, instances of strangers or anyone without a tracer band. I want the visitor to our kingdom brought to me, unharmed, regardless of their identity. Then I'll decide how to deal with their intrusion into my land."

"Yes, milord," Ambrost bowed and left.

Riordan paced his bed chamber, nervous energy making his skin feel as if it were moving on its own. So many thoughts, so many emotions were warring inside him. So many possibilities lie ahead, but he couldn't think about it all now. No need to get ahead of himself. First he needed to know who this newcomer to his land was. Nothing could be done until he was sure.

In an effort to take his mind off the future he let the lust he'd pushed aside earlier to flow back into him. He found it was more intense now that it was fueled by his excitement at the possibility finally putting all of his plans into motion. He needed to work it off, but the shy, soft, kitchen maid would not do.

He strode from his chamber down the hall to the room of his favorite courtesan. There was no guard by the door, which meant one of two things. A low, feminine moan, told him Alana was inside. He pushed the door open with enough force that it banged loudly against the stone wall.

The scene that greeted him was much as he expected.

Alana was on the bed naked, her dark hair billowed around her. Her lithe body stretched sideways so that her legs rested on the shoulders of the fully dressed guard kneeling on the floor. The startled guard jumped moved his head from where he'd had his mouth was pressed into the hollow at the back of her knee. The woman on the bed just looked up at him, unimpressed by his entrance.

"Really, Riordan, must you go crashing around like that? You said you had other plans this evening. Fontana was keeping me entertained." She purred, rubbing her long, lithe leg against the guard's face.

In truth, Riordan had no care as to who Alana chose to dally with when she wasn't in his bed. But he knew she enjoyed it when he played the jealous and possessive lover. Despite the unaffected air she put on, he knew she was coursing with excitement just as he was. She'd give him a good and rowdy tumble.

"Your plans for the evening have changed," he told her.

She stuck out her lip in a pout. "But we hadn't even started yet, and he is so good with his mouth. Can't you just watch this part, then he can leave?"

Some other time he might agree, but he was too full of energy to sit idly by tonight.

"Out," he thundered. As an afterthought he called after the retreating guard, "Oh, Fontana, you might find a chit willing to warm your bed in the kitchens. One of the maids got a terrible disappointment tonight."

The guard nodded and left, shutting the door after him.

Riordan turned back to Alana to find her standing in front of him, her bare body gleaming in the firelight.

"Kneel before your king," he ordered, his voice harsh.

She looked up at him from under heavy-lidded eyes, a wicked smirk curving her red lips. "Make me."

"Good answer." He let out a growl as he swept her into his arms and tossed her on the bed.