by CA Morgan
Eris felt a sudden calmness grow within. He didn't want to feel calm, but felt compelled all the same to consider the man’s words. He understood the sense in the words, but being betrayed by a first-level elemental was not how he wished to end his days. For a moment longer, Eris stared into the red-beard’s eyes. He saw nor felt anything, neither truth, nor deception.
Drawing a deep breath, he dropped his guard and went to sit on the edge of the bed. In the end, what choice did he really have? Metamorphosing into a woman every time his blood ran hot was not the way a man of his stature, of his obvious virility, should live. In some ways it was an abomination far worse, he reasoned, than joining up temporarily with this Raga-Tor. Eris wondered again if the man was telling the truth. What if he was? He shivered.
First-level magic users were rarely seen as there were only four of them. Eris couldn’t think of a single tale in which an elemental of any level appeared to a solitary human in order to help him. To kill and destroy, yes, but not to offer assistance. Nor was it uncommon to find sorcerous names in the god-lore of other, less civilized peoples. Moreover to assist a man who was not a king, a prince, a suzerain—it was unthinkable.
“What will it be, Eris?” Raga asked, interrupting his thoughts.
Eris glanced at him. After a moment he rubbed his hands across his face. It was not an easy thing for him to agree to. Raga-Tor. Sorcerer. The idea was appalling.
“I need to think it over,” Eris said, but his mood was calmer. “I’ll give you my decision in the morning.”
“What is there to think over?” Raga asked surprised. “What else can I say to make you see reason? To make you see the hopelessness of your situation if you try this alone?”
“You can chatter all night, but I’ll not be forced to cast my lot with you until you give me some time, alone, to think this through,” Eris insisted.
The ruddy-faced sorcerer gave a dramatic sigh, turned back to the table and picked up his goblet. In one long drought, he took it to the dregs and placed it back onto the white, cloth-covered table. In a flash of gold-red light, the table and its feast vanished into the night.
Eris shuddered inwardly and looked away from his unwanted guest. More and more he was convinced that the man was who he said he was. He knew of no mortal crafter of the arcane arts who could do what he had just witnessed.
“Fine,” Raga said gruffly. His own good humor vanished with the table. “I’ll give you until noon tomorrow to give me an answer. Make sure you think well on this, because your future is presently tied to the working of the universal order whether you like it or not.”
Eris didn’t say a word, nor did he raise his head to bid the sorcerer a good night as he quietly left the room. Eris was relieved that he used the door.
He waited until he heard Raga’s heavy footsteps fade down the corridor before getting up to bolt the door. His stomach rudely reminded him of the pity it was that all the food disappeared. Then again, ‘magical’ food was not at all appealing no matter how good it smelled.
A knock on the door startled him.
“Who’s there?”
“Kaitay,” came the answer. “Eris, I. . . I thought you might like some hot water to clean up with.”
That was an idea better than food and he quickly opened the door. Kaitay stood outside with a large, steaming bowl of water, a small scrap of soap and several towels folded over her arm.
“Please, come in,” Eris said, speaking to her more civilly than before.
Kaitay took a hesitant step into the room and looked around.
“I came up earlier and I heard arguing so I went away,” she said and seemed uncomfortable. She glanced cautiously around the room. “Is that other man crazy? Talking about sorcery when Azoreth rides the sky, he could get himself killed.”
“Don’t worry. He’s gone,” Eris said. He took the bowl from her and put it on the trunk. He wondered just how much of their conversation she might have heard. Not that it would do her any good to spread such tales during the phase of Azoreth.
“I see you have your fire started,” Kaitay said, pushing a wisp of wiry brown hair away from her face. Quickly, she placed the soap and towels next to the bowl. “I really am sorry I didn’t see to it sooner.”
“No matter, it’s done.” He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled off his very wet boots. “Give these to your brother to clean. I don’t care if he can’t get them dry by morning, but cleaned and oiled at least. Tell him to put them by the door before eight bells.”
“Of course,” she said. Her light-brown eyes nervously searched his face. “Eris…”
“What?” He looked up at her, when she didn’t continue.
“I was….well…I was wondering about something, but I don’t know what…I mean how to ask you,” she said nervously.
Eris didn’t like the look he saw in her wide eyes. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like it; it was more that he couldn’t allow it. He sighed quietly, inwardly. It seemed he was fated to never be in a place long before the wenches got up the nerve to ask why he never took any of them to his bed.
He was hardly ignorant of his extraordinary physical appearance and in his more ‘ordinary’ past had often used it to his advantage. That advantage was all but gone now given his peculiar, and most despised, situation.
“Listen, Kaitay—”
“No, Eris, let me finish,” she said as her hands played with the laces of her bodice. His voice was kinder now and she decided to take a chance with him. “I…we…well, mostly me. I wanted to know why you have never asked any of us to share the night with you. Do you find us all so unattractive?”
“No, not at all. You are all quite comely. Right now, I have a lot of work at the caravan warehouses. I’m tired.”
“But all men need to rest and enjoy themselves…sometimes,” she said quietly. With a gentle, unexpected tug at the laces, her dress fell open to reveal her pert breasts, which she cupped in her hands. Slowly, she walked toward him and shrugged the bodice lower on her silky shoulders.
Oh, gods! Eris swallowed hard and found it almost impossible to take his eyes away from her. He fought to control the urge that rose up so uncontrollably swift within him. Verin give me the strength of your celibates, he begged his god. Though he rarely asked favor of man or god, this time he was sincere. He couldn’t bear the thought of going through the sorcerous change twice in one day. Once in his lifetime was once too many—to say nothing of how he would explain his unusual trick at the breakfast table the next morning.
“Kaitay, please,” he said, struggling to keep emotion out of his voice, out of his body. “I’m tired. I want to wash up and go to sleep. It’s been a long day. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?”
“Oh, all right,” she pouted. She stopped beside him and leaned down to put her arms around his neck. “But let’s only talk a little. I want to see what other tricks the city’s newest hero has to offer.”
Kaitay let her lips linger on his salty cheek as her right hand unexpectedly reached down and grabbed him high on the inside of his thigh. Before he could stop her, her hand slid forward into his groin. Eris swallowed even harder and fought the urge to strangle her on the spot. He didn’t dare touch her, not even to push her away.
“I guess you really are tired,” Kaitay pouted, when her caress didn’t find what she expected. “Go to sleep. I’ll have your breakfast waiting at nine bells.”
With one last look of appeal, she reached down and grabbed up his boots. Eris didn’t respond. He barely looked at her.
“Maybe tomorrow,” he whispered as Kaitay pulled the door closed behind her.
As soon as the metal latch fell into place, Eris fell over and buried his face in the rough pillow. He breathed deeply and tried hard to concentrate on something else. He discovered that the longer he carried the curse, the harder it was to resist feminine temptations.
“Charra-Tir be damned!” he swore and punched the pillow. “Before long I’m going to be stuck as a wo
man, because this curse will have turned me into such a dog of a man.”
Eris lay still a while longer. The skirmish with Slott suddenly replayed in his mind. Whether or not his god had any hand in the sudden change in thought could hardly be known, and he gladly traded his rising lust for the anger he felt when facing Slott, and later the red beard. In what seemed like an hour, but was only a matter of minutes, he felt the tension ease. He breathed deeply and wrinkled his nose. He stunk.
He stood and stripped off his salt-encrusted clothing. It smelled almost as bad as the water and slimy things under the pier. Still annoyed that he had taken a useless plunge into the bay, he tossed both tunic and trousers into the fire that showed no signs of dying down. The fire brightened briefly as the red-orange flames engulfed the fibers.
The warm water from the basin soothed his skin, which felt drawn and tight from the salt water. When he had washed his body, he bent over and put his head into the bowl to wash the salty brine from his wavy, raven locks. With a worn, grayed towel he dried the rivulets that ran down from his head. Tossing the towel aside, he fell into bed restless and disturbed until the wee hours of the morning, when exhausted sleep finally overtook him.
It was nearly nine bells, when Eris came downstairs and sat down at his usual table. He ordered up twice his normal breakfast and glanced around to see who was sharing the room with him. No one of any consequence, and he was glad the red beard was not among them. Moments later loud voices filled the staircase passage as his friend, Raj, and several other outriders seemed to tumble into the room.
“Glad to see you survived your trip to the wharf. Mind if I join you?” Raj asked with a grin as he approached.
“No. Go ahead,” Eris answered. He watched the others continue out the door.
“You know,” Raj said, sitting down on the opposite bench, “you’re going to have to start helping me with the wenches in this place.”
“Why?”
“I can't handle them all. They’re starting to cast lots for me. Rumor has it you turned down Kaitay. What's the matter with you, Pann? She’s the most comely of the bunch.”
“I was preoccupied with other matters. The trip to the wharf wasn’t as smooth as expected,” Eris said with a shrug and took a mug from a serving boy. “Besides, more for you. Try two at a time.”
“Now, that's a thought. Mayhap you prefer another sort of entertainment?” Raj suggested with a wink. “I know of a place where—”
“No, no. The wenches suit me just fine, when I've a mind for them,” Eris said and drank down half the mug. He smiled a bit. A new tap on a fresh barrel was a good way to start the day.
“Suit yourself.” Raj smoothed his long, blond hair back and tied it with a length of leather. “Just thought I'd let you know that now that we are heroes for the week, the price is a lot cheaper.”
“No doubt,” Eris agreed. “Listen, I have a question for you.” He paused as his breakfast was served and Raj helped himself to a wedge of warm bread. “What do you know about the lore of elemental sorcery?”
Raj gave a snort.
“Where did that come from? From bedding wenches to cosmic philosophy? Such a tough question so early in the morning makes my head hurt.” He stuffed the bread into his mouth.
“It won't if you don't know anything.”
“Why do you ask?”
“I came across someone last night who claims he’s a first-level elemental.”
Raj gave a low whistle. His gray-blue eyes scanned the room. He leaned closer to Eris and stared hard at his face.
“Are you drunk?”
“What?”
“Shh, listen! No one talks about them, at least not in my land. And if one has found you, then my advice is to run like hell and get out of here before it’s too late. Don’t your people fear them?”
Eris shrugged. “We don't have any opinion one way or another. I guess we tend not to believe in these superstitions. None appear in our history that I know of.”
“Ahh, but I think you believe, or think you have seen something. The eyes don’t lie, Eris. You know something, but keep it to yourself. Elementals bring nothing but death to us ordinary men, and I’d still like to father a son someday, when I’m ready to settle down,” Raj said. His voice lowered to a whisper. “Bekku-Tor, first-elemental of earth, nearly annihilated my people with his earthquakes and rockslides centuries ago. Only the gods know why. It’s forbidden for us to even say these names for fear one or all will return.”
“If you saw this person I met, could you tell if he was speaking the truth?” Eris asked, scooping eggs onto a wooden spoon.
Raj sat back, shook his head and also grabbed a mug of ale from a passing serving boy.
“Out on the caravan routes I will gladly give my life for yours as you have commanded honor and respect from me and many others. But, as a man of honor, I ask that you not ask such a thing of me.”
“Agreed,” Eris said. He downed a second mug of ale and wondered what he should do next. He didn't trust anyone the way he trusted Raj.
“Listen,” Raj said quietly, noting Eris' rising frustration. “They say that on the Street of Spirits are people who know these things, or at least claim to.”
“Have you ever been there?”
“Once, for curiosity. In truth, though, I’d rather face a dozen Brazzi scimitars than go there again,” Raj answered with a shiver. Eris shivered involuntarily and Raj smiled. “I see we are of the same mind, but I think you need to go if you want an answer.”
“You're probably right,” Eris agreed. “I’m also turning over my command to you for today’s caravan. I have the feeling I won't be available for a while.”
“Let’s hope it’s only a short while. I don’t have the facility of language that you do to be able to converse with most of the mercenaries. I see many silent leagues ahead of me,” Raj complained.
“On the other hand, you'll have much time to decide just what it is you'll do when you ‘settle down’ and take a wife,” Eris said, rising from the table. He pushed what he hadn’t finished of his breakfast across the table. He clapped a firm hand on Raj’s shoulder and squeezed. “Take care, my friend. With any luck, I'll see you in a few weeks.”
Eris put a few coins on the table and then stepped out into the cool, morning air. The haze had already burned off and a cloudless blue sky stretched overhead. It took him longer than anticipated to reach the Street of Spirits, having once lost his way. When he arrived, he understood why Raj had come to satisfy his curiosity.
The area was more like a park than a street. Narrow pathways wound their way between trees, hedgerows and a multitude of different sanctuaries. Eris knew Rennas Baye was a meeting place of many cultures, but he had no idea how many until he saw the variety of architectures peeking between the leaves of trees and bushes. Already quite a few people walked along the paths, or stopped for a rest beneath an arbor of jasmine or grape vines. Some drank water issuing from fanciful fountains all the while mouthing silent invocations and bowing in some proscribed manner.
It was the silence, Eris realized, that made the place unnerving. As he moved farther along the pathways, the sounds of the city faded. Although he saw scores of people in the park, it was silent but for the chatter of birds and splashing water. A few people he passed gave him disapproving looks for his obviously hostile dress and the soft creaking his leather armor made. He also realized there was no way to ask directions from anyone and wondered if he could find an answer before the sun peaked at noon, when he was sure the red beard would suddenly appear no matter where he was and wanting his answer.
Eris wandered nearly another half hour before he stopped in front of an edifice that looked a bit more hopeful than those with effigies of gods, animals, flowers, fishes—anything one imagined. He couldn’t read the sign, but it seemed somewhat familiar. Maybe from a land he had visited at some point in his travels.
Constructed of highly polished, pinkish granite, the building glowed like a giant rose am
idst the surrounding greenery. Several narrow, stained-glass windows began several spans from the ground and soared upward to a flat roof where a dozen or more large, crystal fire bowls sat in a row. From where he stood, Eris smelled the scented oil as it burned. This was as likely a place as any to find a fire elemental.
As he approached, he wondered if he was supposed to do anything before entering the temple. He watched and waited, but no one else seemed interested in this particular place. He waited a bit longer and still no one went in or came out. Taking a deep breath to relieve his tension, he walked to the door and went inside.
The interior was just as plain as the outside. More polished marble, more fire bowls, and at the end of the hall a raised dais. Atop the dais stood an ornate, golden tripod, which supported a great golden bowl. Another fire pot, he assumed, but it wasn't burning at the moment. He looked behind, toward the entrance, and saw that the stained glass seemed to tell a story as it went up the wall, but he knew not what it meant.
When he turned back to the dais, he saw an old woman standing on the bottom step. Like everyone else in this strange park, she moved silently and spoke not a word. Hesitantly, Eris took a few more steps forward.
“Are questions permitted?” he asked. His voice boomed through the empty hall.
“Of course. Come forward,” the woman said, motioning to him. “Everyone who comes here is seeking an answer to something.”
“Tell me about the First-Elemental of Fire, Raga-Tor.”
The woman looked thoughtfully at him for a moment. “Why do you seek him?”
“I don’t. He’s the last thing in this world I would seek. Last night I happened upon a crazed old man who insists he is Raga-Tor. He wants me to help him do something, and I want nothing to do with him. If there is no such person or what have you, then I'll have the old fool put in irons by nightfall. He’s a menace,” Eris answered.
The old woman smiled and gave a little laugh.
“As ornery and mean as they come to be sure.”
