She did all of this with such skill that Blade was soon as aroused as if they'd already joined. He bit back a gasp, sensing that she wanted him to remain passive as long as he could. It was more of her playfulness.
At last Esseta stepped away from Blade and came around in front of him. She raised herself on tiptoe until her lips could curl themselves warmly and wetly against his. The kiss faded away with tantalizing slowness, and Blade felt her lips drifting down with the same luxurious warmth over his skin. She kissed his ribs and his stomach while her fingers twined themselves in the hair on his chest. Then her lips swooped down like a bird of prey, and suddenly his erection was swallowed up.
Blade's gasp turned into a groan of the most exquisite agony he'd ever felt or could have imagined feeling. Then for a moment he could not speak, because he could not breathe. Esseta's lips swept along his swollen flesh, kissed the tip, sought the inside of both thighs, then returned to their original place.
Esseta repeated the pattern some unguessable number of times, then began varying it. As her lips worked, her hands were pulling Blade's trousers farther and farther down his legs. Blade was hardly aware of this, or of anything else except the almost terrifying delight her lips on his flesh were bringing him.
Then he was aware of pain that was also pleasure, bubbling up within him and ready to boil over. In silence he fought against the agony, in silence Esseta's lips went on working to make that fight hopeless, and in silence Blade lost it. The ecstasy of total release seared through him, as he bowed backward, away from those lips, pumping heat up between them. He bowed so far backward that he fell over, and Esseta fell on top of him. For a moment her lips were no longer on him, but not for long. There was too much more she wanted from him.
She took it; and went on taking it, until Blade could not have given her any more if his life had depended on it. Perhaps Esseta herself had reached the point where she could take no more. In any case, she finally collapsed to lie beside him, one leg raised over his, her breasts against his side and the fingers of one hand spread on his chest.
Then she sat up and smiled. She raised her arms above her head and stretched like a cat. The movements of her breasts would have awakened desire in a corpse, but not in Richard Blade at this moment. Then she laughed, and this time the woman's laugh turned into the girl's giggle.
Blade shook his head. «You have the skills of an actress, as well as all your other gifts. Has anyone ever told you that?»
«Not many. I have shown how I play my game to only a few, and only two of those who paid for me have ever guessed.»
«What happened then?»
«Both stayed all night, and poured gold into my lap when morning came. They wanted to see what else I could do.»
Blade laughed. «Is there anything you can't deal with?»
For a moment her face was a pale mask. «Yes. The years. Against them I have no power.»
«You've done well so far.»
«So far, yes.» Suddenly she was smiling again. «And shall I tell you why I've done so well? It is my secret.»
«I'm listening.»
«This life is not easy, and much of it gives no pleasure. So when I have a chance, I play, to amuse myself and give myself pleasure. I do not have as many chances as I wish, but I have enough. As long as I can play, I can fight off the years.» She bent down and kissed Blade. «Will you help me play, Blade from the desert?»
Silently Blade nodded, and by the time he finished kissing her he found that somehow desire was again rising in him.
Blade's being Esseta's recognized lover didn't make things any easier between him and Hadish. It wasn't that the senior guard was jealous of Blade's delightful hours in bed with her-he didn't care for women. He did see very clearly that with Esseta's support Blade could go almost anywhere and do almost anything. Furthermore, if it came to a clash between him and Blade, Kubin would be far more likely to support a man on good terms with one of his favorite ladies. Not being a fool, Hadish was afraid of Kubin Ben Sarif.
That same fear kept him quiet for some time. Meanwhile, Blade began escorting the ladies of the House of the Night's Tale when they went out to shop or take the air in the parks by the Da. For this Esseta bought him several new sets of clothes, as well as a jeweled dagger that would have looked at home on a nobleman's belt.
«We of the House of the Night's Tale have our reputation to uphold,» she said. «Can we be escorted by a man who does not look his best?»
«Hardly,» said Blade. He noted that in spite of all its jewels, the knife was well-balanced and sharp. Esseta was a good judge of weapons.
The knife might be able to gut a human attacker like a fish, but it couldn't do anything against flies and foul smells. For some time that was all Blade faced as he escorted Esseta and her companions about Dahaura.
Dahaura was even busier and more prosperous than he'd imagined. It was hard to believe that any sane man could conceive of overthrowing this bustling city and the empire it ruled with no more than five thousand fighting men.
But then, the Master of the Hashomi was not entirely sane. Immensely gifted, to be sure, but also somewhat mad-and all the more dangerous because he was both. He would certainly try to carry out his plans, and even if he failed and the Hashomi perished, so would thousands of innocent people.
Even worse, it was possible that he might not fail. Blade kept his ears and eyes open, and what he heard and saw told him much about the religious conflict within Dahaura. The Fighters of Junah were despised and openly persecuted, in a way that turned Blade's stomach. He saw them stoned and beaten in the marketplaces, thrown into the rivers, driven out of shops and taverns. He saw two or three of them cut to bloody ribbons when they openly raised a hand in their own defense. He saw them treated in a way that would not have been wise even if they'd been incapable of resistance.
Since they were steadily organizing for battle, the persecution was worse than unwise. It was criminally stupid. It was sowing the seeds of religious warfare in Dahaura, just as the Master of the Hashomi expected. That warfare would come sooner or later-Blade was certain of that. And then? Religious warfare had brought down empires before, even without the aid of the Hashomi to make things worse.
The Master of the Hashomi might be mad, but his plan to overthrow the Baranate of Dahaura was not a madman's fantasy. It was a real danger, and that meant Blade's information about the Hashomi had to reach the Baran.
How? He might be able to speak to Kubin Ben Sarif and get some results. Kubin had no great love for the Fighters of Junah, even if he'd operated on the fringes of the Baran's law most of his life. He could be trusted. Unfortunately, he would also be hard to find-Blade hadn't seen him since their first strange interview.
Send a message? Not on this matter, and not with Hadish around. Esseta? Blade saw her every day. She was cool-headed, discreet, and loyal to the Baranate. Unfortunately, she'd also made it clear that she never mixed in high politics. That was one reason she was still alive and unbranded, so she intended to go on that way for the rest of her life.
The word had to get to the Baran somehow. But if he spoke to the wrong person, it might also get to the ears of someone ready to pay for having Blade's gutted corpse floating in the Da. It was a delicate situation, and likely to get worse rather than better.