I couldn't take any chances. Softly I crept over to the chair where I'd so carelessly hung my swordbelt moments before. Drawing the blade slowly and silently, I inched closer to the bed, reached out, and flipped back the covers.
A familiar and quite beautiful face peeked out at me.
“Rhalla!” I said with delight, relaxing.
“A sword?” She lowered her eyes, then smiled up at me. “Is this the way you welcome lovers to your bed, Lord Oberon?”
“Not usually.”
I returned my sword to its scabbard at the desk. Then I joined her in bed. We kissed, and made love frantically, as though it might be the last thing either one of us did.
Far too early the next morning—at least, I assumed it was morning—I awakened from a deep and dreamless sleep to Aber's annoyingly chipper voice.
“Wake up, Oberon. Too many hours in bed will make you weak!”
“Go away!”
“I'm hungry, and I see no reason to eat alone with you in the house. Time to get up.”
I groaned, then closed my eyes again.
“Port, throw him out!” I called.
“Sorry, Oberon,” my door replied. “I am not a bouncer. You will have to throw him out yourself.”
“Don't be a slug-a-bed!” he told me. I heard him open the ward-robe's doors and rummage around inside. “You've got plenty of clothes here. Pick something or I'll pick it for you.”
I sighed. So much for a quiet morning in bed. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep. After making love to Rhalla half the night, exhaustion threatened to overwhelm me.
“Is Dad back yet?” I asked, eyes still closed.
“No.”
“How about the hell-creatures?”
“No sign of them, either.”
“Then what's the rush?”
“I'm hungry!”
I rolled over, opening one eye. Golden light bubbled up from the lamp by the door. He stood before me with arms folded, tapping one foot impatiently. He had gray silk pants and shirt tucked under his arm.
“Ready to get dressed?” he said. “Where's your valet?”
“Sleeping, like any sensible person!” I told him. “Now, go back to bed. I need my sleep. I'll have lunch with you later.”
“Afraid not. We have too much to do today. I'm expecting replies to my letters. And don't you want to try Dad's Trump again?”
I gave a huge sigh. Clearly he wasn't taking no for an answer. Sitting up, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, then pulled the sheet across my lap to cover my nakedness.
“All right, pest. Give me the clothes.”
“Here.” He held them out, and I took them.
Behind me, still buried in the covers, Rhalla stirred and murmured a sleepy question.
“It's just my brother Aber,” I told her. I rubbed her back through the quilt. “Go to sleep.”
“Who's that—” Aber began, leaning forward to see.
“Don't be nosy,” I told him. “I know you won't approve, but I couldn't help myself. She's beautiful and smart…”
Without warning, my brother sucked in a panicked breath and leaped back, looking desperately around the room. He motioned frantically for me to stay silent and get out of bed. Running to the desk, he began to fumble with my swordbelt.
“What is it?” I said impatiently, yawning.
“Oberon,” he said. Something in the quiet tone he used set my nerves on edge. “Get away from the bed. Don't argue. Do it quickly. You're in danger.”
My breath caught in my throat. Danger? What had he seen?
Suddenly wide awake, I stood and took two quick steps toward the door. Port's face appeared there, staring at us with concern.
“What is it?” I demanded.
Rhalla stirred again and rolled over, half opening her eyes.
“Oberon?” she asked.
“Don't move,” I told her. I scanned the covers, looking for anything dangerous—snakes, spiders, some Chaos-born monster—but saw nothing unusual or out of place.
Rhalla, head pillowed on her arm, blinked and looked up at me. She was even more beautiful by day—not that you could tell from the lack of windows.
Aber drew my sword and turned toward the bed, a grim expression on his face.
“Hey!” I told him. “What are you doing?”
“Get out of the way, Oberon.”
“What is it?” I demanded. “What do you see?”
“A succubus!”
In one swift motion, he leaped toward my lover.
“Wait!” I cried, leaping in front of him. “What do you think you're doing?”