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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5197

Updated: 2018-07-10 19:03

'Which will eventually cause unrest beyond our borders' Valeri finished, he narrowed his eyes dangerously. 'They need to be controlled.'

Desmond leant back in his chair. 'What do you propose?'

A hushed silence fell upon the council members.

'I say we kill them' Storin grumbled.

'Have you gone mad man?' Rhona asked incredulous.

'Anything that does not have a purpose is a parasite. They should die, along with the heretics…and the deformed babies, and those born with simple minds…and men who lie with men…and women who lie with women and anyone who does not conform to our rules.'

Cam balled his fists, clenching his teeth and looking away, staring hard at the floor beside him, away from Brioke who sat on his other side.

'Perhaps we can reach a more agreeable solution' Denzil began tentatively. 'Not all gypsies are bad after, and we need the trade, I'm sure you can agree they are good for that at least?'

'They need to be controlled at the very least' Eden said. 'We need to show them that just because they are wandering spirits they are not free from our laws.'

'Perhaps we could just punish those that are unfaithful?' Valeri said.

'What exactly do you suggest?' Agnus sighed wearily. 'How many more need to die?'

'Enough for the message to sink in.'

And then Brioke spoke up.

'Perhaps we should let the prince decide. He is going to be king someday after all.'

Cam's heart constricted in his chest and he suddenly tensed, sweat beginning to bead his forehead as he realised the others were watching him expectantly, all completely silent.

Those who had spoken in favour of punishing the gypsies had been those on the right hand of the council, the side that Brioke supported. Surely the correct answer to give was to support this side.

'I…' Cam stammered. 'I believe they should be shown the correct…they…' Cam closed his mouth, drawing a slow and steady breath. 'I think the gypsies should be punished.'

'How?' Castello asked slowly, eyebrow raised.

Brioke watched Cam very closely.

Cam's heart hammered in his chest so hard it began to hurt, and he suddenly felt panic.


Cam felt so afraid, blinking back the tears in his eyes.

'I think they should die' Cam said.

The members of the left hand were visibly disappointed, they sighed, shoulders slumped and looking to the floor.

'If that is what you want' Storin said, 'then it will be done.'

Cam sat back in his seat, eyes wide and blinking furiously.

What have I done…what have I done? What am I doing?

'Those that follow the customs of foreign l

ands and religions will be executed and made examples of' Brioke spoke up. 'Those that obey will be spared.'

When the meeting was over, Cam traversed the many stairs and corridors of the palace, heading to his room for some peace and quiet and doing so as fast as he could.

He felt sick, disgusted at himself and afraid, frightened of all the suffering that was happening, and so confused, always confused…

Cam entered his room several minutes later. He was about to head over to the window, when he heard movement behind him. Cam turned and was instantly struck across the head by a large heavy object. He stumbled and fell on his front, so hard was the force of the blow. Behind him Brioke dropped the heavy silver candle holder, striding over to him.

He had been waiting for Cam, hiding behind the door.

Cam was just pushing himself up gingerly, about to stand, his mind spinning in pain and confusion. He felt a hand upon his head then, forcing him back down to the ground, instantly he recognised Brioke's touch.

'Stay down' Brioke growled in a low voice.

'You've had me once today' Cam sobbed, unable to keep his voice from breaking. 'How many times? Isn't this enough?'

'The lesson needs to be reinforced' Brioke sneered down at him. 'I will have you as many times as I please. You are mine to command, and if you try to resist me, I will punish you for it.'

Cam's body shook with sobs as he held his breath, gritting his teeth.

'Stay down' Brioke said to him again, whispering dangerously.

Cam didn't move, he dared not. Brioke slowly withdrew his hand from the back of his head, waiting for a few seconds to see if Cam would comply, straightening again.

Cam remained still, lying on his front.

He then heard the sound of clothes moving, and a belt unbuckling. He took a deep and steady breath, balling his fists. And then Brioke was on top of him, his arms pressing down on his, pinning him to the ground with his weight.

Cam took another steady breath, and Brioke took his pleasure.

Sometime later, Brioke rose again, breathing heavily. He rose to stand, tidying himself up, as Cam sat up.

He looked at Brioke hard; Brioke stared back as he buckled up his belt again. He turned and walked away, exiting the room swiftly without a backwards glance as Cam stared after him.

When he was gone and the door shut again, Cam punched the ground with his fist, gritting his teeth and glaring at the door with tears of anger and hate in his eyes.

He rose and washed himself, then went to sit by the window, his book rested on his lap closed.

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