The Sex That Stirs The Hallow Skull  

The next morning, Amara met with Governor Gormand to tour Pelian's famine-stricken lands firsthand. She was accompanied by Velkan, Rhys, and an escort of guards as they rode solemnly past skeletal fields and gaunt villagers who stared at them with dull eyes. Rotting crops and barren irrigation ditches testified to seasons of deprivation here.

Amara's heart ached at the sight of naked, pot-bellied children trailing after their horses in hopes of receiving scraps. One small boy caught her attention in particular - rail-thin save for his distended belly, clothing hanging in filthy tatters as he listlessly stroked the bony flanks of a hound who was nearly as emaciated as its young master.

Amara reined her horse beside the urchin. "Here, child." She offered a piece of dried fruit from her travel pouch. The boy snatched it and devoured the morsel ravenously. At Amara's encouraging smile, he ventured closer.

"Bless you, high lady," he mumbled around a mouthful. Up close, his huge dark eyes stood out starkly against his grimy face.

Amara ruffled his matted hair gently. "What is your name, little friend?"

"Jakob, mum." He ducked his head shyly. The runty dog whined, nosing at Amara's boot for more treats. She stroked its bony head in pity.

"Governor Gormand," Amara called ahead to where the heavyset official rode conferring with Velkan. "When we return, have the regiment physicians set up camps to distribute food rations. We cannot let the people starve while pondering policy."

Gormand frowned but nodded his assent. Amara asked one of her guardsmen to carry Jakob before their company so the child would not expend his meagre strength chasing after them. She resolved privately to do everything in her power to ensure this sweet boy and all the realm's vulnerable souls got the care they deserved. Failure was not an option.

That evening after the day's doling out what succour they could, Amara retreated to the ramparts to clear her head and take counsel with Rhys away from other ears. The rogue acknowledged her mood, foregoing his usual gruff teasing.

"Those leeched fields will take seasons to heal, even with royal aid," he remarked, leaning on the parapet wall beside her. "But magic might quicken the restoration." He gave her a meaningful look.

Amara's hand dropped reflexively to the travel sack belted at her waist containing the Hallow Skull. Since the battle's end she had kept the artefact hidden away, wary of relying overmuch on its frightening power. But Rhys's suggestion held some merit. Perhaps judiciously applied, the Skull could help mend this broken land.

She turned toward him, brow creased thoughtfully. "A ritual could well draw forth the force needed for such large-scale renewal magic." At Rhys's encouraging nod, she continued. "But the Skull's cooperation depends on...personal exertion from its bearer."

Amara felt sudden heat in her cheeks. In the past, the Skull had only unleashed its full seductive might during intimate exploits. She both anticipated and feared the lengths its unleashing might require now.

But Rhys waved off her delicacy, his eyes were kindling with familiar hunger. "I'm ever your loyal subject in such matters." He drew her close, pert humour returning. "Duty demands we retire early to tame this trinket of yours back into service."

Despite herself, Amara thrilled at his possessive tone. Perhaps obeying the Skull's carnal appetites was foolish, but she could no longer deny craving the rogue's rough ardour. She pulled his bearded face down into a hungry kiss under the rising moons. They had danced around their mutual passion for too long. Tonight mystery and obligation would align at last.

As the door latch clicked shut behind them, Rhys pulled Amara into a searing kiss that stoked the fire already burning within her. His hands urgently stripped away silks and linens until she stood nude, bathed in starlight and his smouldering gaze.

"I would worship you, my queen," he rasped, dropping to kneel as she reclined back upon soft cushions. His rough palms caressed her calves, setting nerves aflame as he trailed upward along her quivering thighs.

Amara gasped as his tongue found her slick entrance, teasing and probing until she writhed mindlessly. She entwined her fingers through his hair, wordlessly begging for more. He obliged, his attentions gentle then maddening as he guided her to peak after shuddering peak.

Her cries of delight resounded through the bedchamber, all thought burnt away except his name wrung from her lips like prayer. At last she drew him up to meet her mouth, tasting the musk of her ecstasy on his lips. With a throaty laugh, she rolled atop his broad frame, raking her nails down his chest to elicit gratifying groans.

Now it was her turn to return exquisite favour, tracing the ridges of muscle and scars that told his life's tale. Her lips grazed lower, urged on by his gasps and guttural curses. She smiled up at him coyly before taking him fully into her mouth's slick depths. His world narrowed to spiralling rapture under her skilful caresses until he was utterly undone.

After the intense clapping of cheeks, they lay replete in each other's arms listening to the thrumming of spent hearts. This communion of body and spirit only deepened the wordless bond between them. Amara sighed blissfully, but the distant Hallow Skull yet beckoned. Fulfilment eluded their union still.

Amara awoke near dawn, feeling Rhys's warmth still wrapped protectively around her. But residual frustration lingered along with languid delight. Hours of urgent intimacy had pushed them both to soaring peaks, yet the Hallow Skull remained unsated. Its burgeoning power still lay just beyond her grasp.

Rhys stirred sleepily, trailing rough fingertips down her side. "The magic lingers shy as a virgin," he rumbled in her ear. "Have I failed in my duties, mistress?" His teasing nuzzle raised fresh shivers, but Amara sighed and gently disentangled herself.

"The fault lies with me," she murmured regretfully. "To unleash the full ritual force seems beyond my capacities." Rhys's crestfallen look pierced her, but she forced a reassuring smile. "But the night was not ill spent. I'll find some solution on the morrow."

She left him to brood in the rumpled bed while she dressed and slipped away as the fortress awoke around her. There must be some means to awaken the Skull's ritual powers. She needed knowledge from one familiar with ancient ways. But both her mentors, Hiwana and Lord Bane, were distant. Perhaps the answer waited within herself or the artefact's own enigmatic mind.

Seeking solitude for contemplation, Amara secluded herself within a forgotten storeroom deep below the fortress. She drew out the Hallow Skull and assumed a meditative pose, emptying her thoughts to channel only purpose. The skull's aura seemed to respond, pulsating faster until Amara felt attuned to its unknowable intellect.

Carefully she formed an image of Pelian's barren fields and starving people, letting her intent resonate through the link. Tell me how to heal and restore this land. Her mental entreaty rang down fault lines in her psyche, opening pathways to understanding.

A vision coalesced amidst voids where Amara floated unbodied. She glimpsed countless past bearers of the skull, both women and men, writhing in Bacchic rites to build power. But always multiple figures intertwined in collective ecstasy. The message became clear - harnessing the Hallow Skull's full restorative might would require a larger communal ritual drawing on many conjoined spirits.

The vision dissolved abruptly, leaving Amara breathless with dangling imperatives. So privacy was not the way. To heal Pelian's ailing land would demand a mass celebration of the senses beyond any courtly propriety. And benign purpose must guide the energies raised, lest dormant darkness awaken.

Amara emerged thoughtful from her meditations. Much depended now on diplomacy and discretion to arrange what was needed. By great fortune, Velkan provided the timely opening she required.

"Sister, our fleet has sent word that delayed trade ships approach," he informed her eagerly that afternoon. "Pelian's warehouses run dangerously low. We must replenish stocks."

Amara was pensive. Visiting merchants could be enlisted in the necessary rites if they valued future good relations here. She gave Velkan a conspiratorial smile.

"You speak wisely, brother. Let us prepare a proper welcoming feast for our guests tonight. They may provide just what we require to set all affairs in order."

"Hmm?" Velkan cocked one brow curiously but bowed and withdrew to make arrangements.