Ascendant of Aldrya

by Northwest Grant

  "What kind of reward?" he asked.

  "A magic sword," Windstar said.

  "Did you just enchant that amulet with a single gesture?" asked Emma. "And while wearing iron?"

  "She doesn't know, does she?" Windstar asked Khoraja.

  "No," Khoraja said.

  A magic sword would be useful. Or at least, it sounded like it would be useful. But he knew nothing about wyrmkin. Did they have personalities? Families? And if they were kin to wyrms, how did the wyrms feel about it? Windstar had given him useful things, and if he'd gone to kill Orcs when they told him to, maybe the raid wouldn't have happened.

  "How soon are the wyrmkin likely to become a danger?" he asked.

  "They lay eggs in the winter," Windstar said, "so the next planting season they'll forage for more food."

  "It's fall now? So in the spring, six months from now?"

  "Correct," Windstar said.

  "And the wyrms wyrmkin are the kin of, what do they think of us slaughtering wyrmkin?"

  "Those would be dragons," said Khoraja.

  "Okay, dragons then."

  "You'd have to ask them," said Windstar. "That's high level for you, though."

  "Wyrms don't protect their kin," Khoraja said. "I read about it back in my grove. In time--lots of time--wyrmkin can grow up to be dragons. Only a tiny fraction of them make it, and dragons are solitary creatures. Mostly, they seem to regard other dragons as competition. Dragons have been known to attack wyrmkin, but I don't think they protect them. It's like some fish that eat their own young. Unfortunately, wyrmkin are also resistant to fire." She frowned.

  "We would suggest a party of four," said Windstar.

  Or course you would. Was that the royal we or the editorial we? Nigel assumed that having fewer dragons was good for humans, elves, dwarves, and what not. Sentient beings. "Are wyrmkin sentient?"

  "Not very," said Windstar. "That's enough questions. Go! Kill things! Improve yourself."

  Nigel nodded. "Um, thank you," he said, remembering she cared about manners. He walked away from her, back toward Belden.

  "She's an odd one," said Emma. "I can't believe she just enchanted that. But she couldn't have one for each element somewhere in that armor of hers, although that's more plausible. I bet the amulet doesn't even work."

  "I agree about the strange," Nigel said. "I don't think her abilities work like anyone else's do." Now if I could see Windstar's character sheet, that would be interesting.

  "I was sure you'd say metal," Emma said. "And why does she keep talking to you, and give you a reward, when we helped do the work?"

  "Those are good questions, Emma," said Nigel. He wished he had answers that would satisfy her.

  "If she was a man, I'd assume she didn't like women."

  "No, I don't think that's it," said Nigel. He wanted to trust Emma, but the best way to keep a secret was not telling people. Maybe he shouldn't have taken her along. He kept walking.

  "I think you should follow your destiny," said Khoraja. "We should find one more person and go kill wyrmkin."

  "I think we need to find Deluca, and put a stop to what he's doing," Nigel said.

  "I agree with Nightwolf," Emma said, and then stopped walking.

  Nigel and Khoraja had gotten a few steps further down the road when they heard Emma's voice behind them. "Oh my goddess," she said.

  Nigel and Khoraja turned. "What is it?" Nigel asked.

  "You're a prince, aren't you? Or a king? In Oakland?"

  Nigel was about to deny it when Khoraja asked, "Why do you ask, Emma?"

  "That's why I've been feeling funny lately. We bonded. And that can only happen if it's a sacred marriage, a bond between the people he represents and the goddess." Emma took a step forward. "Husband!"

  "I'm not a prince," Nigel protested.

  "Perhaps in a land where there are no princes, everyone is a prince," said Khoraja. "Or perhaps you are the representative of your land, here. Or perhaps your unique characteristics somehow qualifies you to bond with a love priestess of Inanna."

  "Unique characteristics?" Emma looked back and forth between them.

  "Can we slow down?" asked Nigel.

  Both women turned to him and waited while he took a few deep breaths.

  "First, um ... you called me your husband."

  "I am bound to you, husband," Emma said. "Unless I am very much mistaken. We are joined in a sacred marriage between Heaven and Earth."

  "Don't we need to have a ceremony?"

  "That's usual, of course. But joining sexually is sufficient. The deed is done. Do you not find me desirable?"

  "You know that's not true."

  Khoraja took a step backward, giving them space without leaving the conversation entirely, but not before Nigel noticed a smirk on her face.

  "'Til death do us part, hmm?" asked Nigel.

  "Even through death, in some cases," said Emma. "I will be with you and support you wherever your journey takes you, husband."

  Stop calling me that, he wanted to say. But that would be cruel. He thought quickly. She was drop-dead gorgeous, with bountiful curves, and she was skilled in bed beyond any lover he'd ever known. She didn't run from the orcs. She was calm and stepped up to lead when the villagers needed her, and she got the grief-stricken temple guard to do something useful, which he probably needed nearly as much as the task needed doing. There were worse fates than being married to Emma.

  The downside? He'd known her for two days. And he didn't want to choose between her and Khoraja.

  "This bond is magical in nature?"

  "It is divine magic, yes," said Emma.

  "Congratulations," said Khoraja. "You two make a lovely couple."

  "Thank you." Emma beamed.

  "Thank you." Nigel cocked an eyebrow.

  "You don't look entirely happy about it." Emma said. "It's considered an honor. You saw how Garrett wanted to get me to bond with him. But you look distressed."

  Nigel shook his head and put an arm on Emma's shoulder. "It's not that. It's very sudden. Unexpected."

  Emma smiled tentatively. "My first reaction when I figured it out was shock, too, so I guess I can give you that one."

  "If I may," said Khoraja, "Nightwolf is from far away, and his customs are not our customs. Nightwolf, hierogamy does not imply monogamy. You are bound, yes, but it is a connection, not chains. Is that not true Emma?"

  "Yes, that is true," said Emma, "although I hope we will renew our bond regularly. But he can sleep with you if he likes."

  "Or with the serving maid at the inn," Khoraja remarked. "Or anyone else he likes."

  "A prince's prerogative," agreed Emma.

  "I'm not a prince," Nigel said. He regretted it immediately. Being a prince sounded good; he should probably just roll with it.

  "Do I please you, husband?" She undulated before him, and his eyes took in her breasts and her hips. Her breasts were nothing short of magnificent, especially in that supportive but hardly concealing magical metal bra.

  Which was a gift from her dwarf lover. And marriage didn't imply monogamy. He wasn't at all sure he could handle her sleeping with her other lovers, for money or otherwise. Or rather, he could handle it, but he didn't want to.

  "Your eyes say yes," Emma said. "But your lips are silent. I will give you time. Perhaps you and Khoraja should walk ahead, so you can talk. I have had a lifetime to think about this day, and while I did not imagine it would go like this, I am less surprised. Husband?"

  "Yes."

  "I am pleased with you."

  "I'm pleased with you too, Emma." It was unfair for him to have freedom to sleep with other people if she didn't. But it was her magical rules that had put him in a "sacred marriage" with a temple prostitute. He hadn't consented.

  "That is enough to make me smile. Walk ahead, then. I know Khoraja knows your secrets better than I do. Seek her counsel, if you wish." She shot Khoraja a look that seemed more full of resignation than trust. Nigel didn't blame her. Khoraja had not exac
tly been kind when they first met.

  "No, Emma, I have something to say." He put both hands on her shoulder. "My people have different customs. Where I come from, we only accept marriage if it is from the free and knowing will of both participants. Married people are usually expected to be faithful to each other, forsaking all other sexual partners."

  "I committed to this when I became a priestess," Emma said. "But I see what you mean. You did not. Do you wish to send me away?"

  "No." Nigel was surprised at the force in his voice. No, he definitely did not want to send her away. "But I don't want you to keep taking other lovers, either."

  "I have had enough variety for a full lifetime," Emma said. "My body is no longer for sale, because it is yours. A bound priestess does not take lovers unless she is asked to. Sometimes princes use the favors of their priestesses to help seal deals, or such."

  Nigel thought it was very unlikely he'd be doing any such thing. He pulled her to his chest and kissed her hard, pressing her body to his. For a moment he forgot they had an audience, until Khoraja cleared her throat gently.

  "There might be an advantage in us getting back to town. It is unlikely the priestess from Lionguard will arrive before we get back, but we want to be there when she does."

  Emma pushed back. "I am content," she said. "But sometime you must tell me more about yourself, so I can understand the bond we have, and the land I am now married to."

  Nigel nodded. That seemed fair. He wanted to understand more, too, but that would happen over time. Talking was good, but some things had to be experienced.

  A few hours later they returned to town. The villagers had moved the bodies into the blacksmith's forge. The stone floor there made it easier to clean up bloodstains. The villagers who remained looked decidedly unhappy.

  Other adventurers had returned to Belden. Gragoth, Taura, Sleipan, and Van had returned from their adventure to the Burning Wastes late that evening. They were dirty and their armor was bloody, but all of them looked fine. That was presumably the effect of some magical healing. Three of the returning party were human, but Gragoth was the big orc that Nigel had seen earlier. They came straight into the inn, sat a table, and waited to order food.

  Khoraja, Emma, and Nigel sat at another table. There was still no word from Lionguard. No one expected the high priestess from Lionguard to get to Belden until after dark, and that was if she had set out immediately.

  "I don't expect she'll be here until tomorrow," Abby said as she brought the food. "She's an important person. The high and mighty don't travel after dark."

  That made sense. The high priestess of a main god in a city was probably very busy.

  "She'll want to save Alissandra," Emma said.

  "Maybe." Abby shrugged. "I doubt she'd come at all if it weren't for the good priestess. Peasants don't matter too much to the high and mighty."

  Nigel didn't disagree that the powerful often neglected the weak, but in this case it seemed like there was nothing the high priestess could do for the peasants, anyway. He refrained from pointing that out. "How long does it take to get to Lionguard by horse, Abby?" he asked.

  "I don't reckon I've ever gotten to ride a horse, sir, but it takes a day on foot." She shrugged. "Anything else I can do for you? I can't believe I have to wait on them next." She nodded over to the table where the orc sat with his companions.

  "Nightwolf could take you upstairs for a bit if you want a reason to delay," Khoraja said.

  Abby blushed. "I – I," she stammered.

  "That's okay, Abby, Khoraja is just trying to make trouble," Nigel said quickly, shooting Khoraja a dirty look.

  Khoraja just shrugged. "Easiest way to find out how your power works, and it saves Abby from doing something she doesn't want to do. It would seem like an arrangement that would serve both sides."

  Nigel didn't see how having sex just to see how his "power" worked was better than having selling sexual favors for money. And he totally understood why Abby was reluctant to serve Gragoth or even his companions. But they had not attacked the town, and he was familiar with the history of eating establishments being unwilling to serve African-Americans in the south. Whether the analogy was precisely apt, he didn't know. Orcs weren't precisely human, but then, neither were elves or dwarves. Or goblins. Was it right to kill the goblins at the mine? He had no instinctive sympathy for the goblins, whose size, screams, and limited language made them seem not very human at all. That every goblin he'd seen was trying to flee or charging to kill him didn't add to his sense of their humanity either. But assuming killing goblins wasn't murder, what were orcs? More like goblins? More like humans? That he'd been able to talk to one made him lean toward the latter.

  Gragoth, sitting calmly and trying to get Abby's attention, seemed even more human than the orcs he'd fought that morning. Maybe because he was alone rather than part of a horde, or because he was showing patience while Abby pretended not to notice him.

  Nigel pulled a silver piece out of his pocket, enough to buy food for four with money left over. "Abby, go serve them, and there will be something extra in it for you."

  She reached for it, and he made a fist before she could take it. "After you serve them," he said. "And treat them with respect."

  "You fought them this morning... I watched you lead the charge," said Abby, looking puzzled. "And I'd much rather make the beast with two backs with you upstairs than serve the beast in the room. Why do you have sympathy for him? He doesn't belong here. Didn't belong here before and certainly doesn't now."

  "Serve them as you would any other customer, and you get the silver. Not otherwise," said Nigel firmly, ignoring the offer of sex and Khoraja's chuckle. Maybe that image was supposed to be seductive, but it wasn't attractive to him.

  Abby walked to the bar to say a few words to Myron, and then waited on the other adventuring party. Nigel looked over at Khoraja and raised an eyebrow. "What's funny?"

  "Her turn of speech," said Khoraja. "I liked the beast imagery. You have to admit, not every waitress would come up with something like that. I guess this is the first waitress you've seen here, though... maybe in Oakland waitresses are all scholars."

  "Students, mostly, yes," answered Nigel. "Making cash while studying for bigger things."

  "Before becoming adventurers?" asked Khoraja.

  He didn't know how to explain that adventuring wasn't a career path back on Earth, so he shrugged.

  "Thank you for standing up for Gragoth," Emma said, putting her hand on his. "He's a good guy, once you get to know him."

  "Do you know him well?" Nigel asked, and immediately regretted it.

  "Well enough, husband," said Emma. "Do you really wish to speak about it?"

  The image of the giant green-skinned orc fucking his pale, naked blonde wife came into his mind vividly. "No, we can move right along," he said.

  "I thought that might be best."

  "Since you know him," Nigel said, "and maybe some of the others, maybe you should let them know about the orc raid? I suspect the villagers aren't talking to them, and as far as we can tell they just got in from adventuring. I can see them celebrating their accomplishments and it causing a problem, given the mood of the town."

  Emma smiled. "Of course, husband. That's an excellent suggestion." She walked to the other table.

  He waited until Emma was out of earshot. "I don't think I will ever get used to her calling me that." He turned and looked straight at Khoraja. "Did you know this might happen?"

  Khoraja avoided his gaze, which told him all he needed to know. He waited. "Maybe I suspected," she said.

  "Why did you think it was a good idea?"

  "You--we--need companions we can trust. And now we can trust Emma. We have our healer. We need one more companion, though, because four--"

  "Is the ideal number. I know. Why is that, do you think?"

  Khoraja shrugged. "I don't know. The gods like the number four, I suppose. Four corners make a square, the most sides of any shape that fi
ts together perfectly."

  "Actually," Nigel said, "Hexagons fit together just fine."

  Khoraja thought about it. "So they do. In any case, we need to figure out our next move. Wyrmkin, and the quest? Or try to find Deluca among the orcs?"

  "There's been enough killing," said Nigel, "and I don't want to kill any wyrmkin or orcs unless we have to. But if Deluca could challenge the orc leader, maybe I can challenge Deluca. Him, I'm willing to kill. He's caused enough damage already."

  "You don't know how powerful he is."

  "True."

  "And any challenge would, I presume, be one on one. Emma and I couldn't help you."

  A woman burst into the inn. She dressed like one of the villagers. Nigel hadn't remembered seeing her before, and he thought he would have remembered a cute woman in her twenties with a nice figure and freckles. Perhaps she was from one of the outlying farms.

  "The priestess is here!" The newcomer shouted.

  Abby ran out the door, and the innkeeper followed. Emma ran after them. Nigel and Khoraja got up too, their meal forgotten. "How'd she get here so fast?" Khoraja asked.

  "Magic?" Nigel asked.

  The villagers were all rushing to the temple, so they followed the horde. The temple reminded Nigel of the Jefferson Memorial, although it was much smaller. It was a circular building, made of marble or some white stone that looked like it, with a domed roof. A flight of marble steps led up to the only entrance. The temple guard stood on those steps, his hands outstretched and his palms facing outward, gesturing the crowd back. Possibly the villagers would have swarmed past him, had not the priestess's transportation been sitting next to him. A large animal with a lion's body and and eagle's wings and beak, the gryphon looked as if it would chow down on a soft human being if provoked.

  "Yep, magic," said Nigel.

  Khoraja looked at him funny. "I don't think so. I think she rode the gryphon."

  Nigel chuckled. "There is nothing natural about something that big being able to fly."

  "Maybe," said Khoraja. "I've never seen one before. But elf lords have winged horses, and they are nearly as big."