by CA Morgan
“Now you stop. What is between us is good and honest. Otherwise, I would not be headed for a certain obligation that needs to be dealt with. So, where do you want to go?”
Eris gave Raga a smile that spoke more than a measure of his thanks and shrugged his shoulders.
“I suppose there’s a war being fought somewhere and I could offer my services. The caravans will be back to full routes with the coming spring.” He shrugged. “I never thought this day would come, so I haven’t given it much thought.”
They both fell into silence. It was time for him to say good-bye to Raga. Somehow the idea wasn’t nearly as sweet as once it was. He felt a strange reluctance and realized just how deeply their newfound friendship ran in him, especially after Raga had taken care of him, when he could have just as easily destroyed him and saved himself the time and effort.
Raga didn’t need the mind-bond to know what it was that kept Eris’ face from his. But even in his sadness, and Raga knew he would admit to that feeling long before Eris ever would, he found some joy in knowing that Eris had mostly overcome his fear of him and might even be glad to see him should their paths cross again.
With a sigh, Eris rubbed his hands over his face that felt stiff and dry from the salt water. At last he spoke. “I guess Rennas Baye would be a good place to start looking for something to do. The caravans will be running short routes now, so maybe I can find Raj again and we’ll pick up where we left off. Besides, it’s the warmest place I can think of other than those I’d rather forget."
“Why not? You've come full circle here, so maybe putting you back there will be a good thing,” Raga agreed. “Cheer up, Eris. Just think of all the things waiting for you. Gold, wine, women. From what I saw, that place is filled with any manner of woman. I’m sure it won’t take you long to find just the right one to rekindle those desires held so long in chains. What more do you want?” He thought all of those things sounded good to him as well.
Eris grinned. “A good scrubbing, because I have this sneaking suspicion that I stink.”
“Hah! Now that’s more like you. Come on, out on the balcony,” Raga said and Eris followed him. “As you seem to like this mode of transportation, I’ll tie on an arrow and in no time you’ll be back in Rennas Baye. Within the hour you’ll have the most beautiful woman in the city tucked under your arm.”
“I don’t suppose you could have one waiting at the landing spot?” Eris teased, as he stood on the balcony facing Raga.
“Sorry, that's your expertise, not mine. Now, hold up your wrist.” Raga tied a secure knot.
“Raga…" Eris began and paused.
“What?” Raga prompted after a moment.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what… how to say…,” A hard tug of deep-seated emotion tug kept him from speaking.
“This has got to be a first. Since when does Eris Pann not have something to say?” Raga mused.
Eris shrugged and held out his hand. Raga refused and instead clasped him in a bearish embrace, which he couldn’t reciprocate, because Raga squeezed him too tightly.
“There is one more thing before you go,” Raga said, releasing him. “I’d like to take away some of the terror of that memory.”
“No.” Eris shook his head. “I’m honored that you offer, but no. You’ve done more than enough by helping me heal, and by taking my place with Riza. That is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. No, the memory will fade with time. Someday, perhaps, if I can remember her name, the nightmare will end.”
“As you wish, but the offer remains. And one more thing, promise me you won’t go looking for magic any more. You’ve been lucky so far. I know it’s impossible to ask you to stay out of trouble, you seem to thrive on it, but no more magic,” Raga asked.
“You have my word.”
“And another thing before I send you—“
“You’re babbling again.”
“I know, but I have to know. Would you really be angry with me if I came looking for you…someday?”
Eris drew up straight and imposing and gave Raga the blackest scowl he could manage, and winked.
“No, just as long as you don’t interrupt me when I’m doing something important,” he teased, his brow raised. “Otherwise..."
“I know, I know, you’ll roll my head into the gutter. I hope you’ll think of another threat by then,” Raga laughed and drew back the bow. “Fare you well, Eris.”
Raga let fly the arrow and Eris disappeared, surprisingly without a fuss, shooting like a star and vanished over the clearing horizon.
Eris landed on the waterfront in Rennas Baye a little more roughly than if Raga had been along and stumbled down on one knee. Nevertheless he was glad to be back in a place that was familiar. He was back in the streets where the sights and smells were known. A place where those mostly of his own kind surrounded him. He knew there were magic users, even powerful ones like Keku Raga-Tir in her temple on the Street of Spirits, but he would leave them to their own devices. Perhaps he would protect his fellow man from them from time to time, but only when requested. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t do that either. Men, for the most part, were much easier to deal with compared to unruly sorcerers and meddling gods.
Eris stood up from the wharf’s splintery planking and pulled Raga’s arrow from the wood. He wasn’t about to leave it and let it find its way into the hands of someone who would corrupt whatever latent power it might have into something evil. Maybe he would take it to Keku-Tir for safekeeping, or not, as he wasn't sure he wanted to be that close to that particular elemental's amorous desire. He couldn't deny her beauty, especially now, but he wasn't ready to experience those things that Raga had said in jest that he wasn't old enough to know.
As he looked about his person for a place to put the shaft, he saw the energy of Raga’s lightning had cleansed him of the sea’s grime and had produced clean, warm clothes and a green silk sash hung at his waist. He was also pleased to find a leather pouch brimming with gold coins hanging from his belt. The jeweled hilt of the Tamori sword glittered at his hip. Mindful of where he was, Eris pulled his cloak discreetly over it. As an added benefit, the last of his sniffles also seemed to have been left behind and he breathed in the salty scent of warm sea air.
He looked up to see Minrah’s pale, yellow light shining down and evil Azoreth gone for the time being. His eyes searched the shadows for signs of movement as his wariness and suspicion came to the fore.
He discovered he wasn’t far from the Black Mare Inn and went to it. He took the front steps two at a time, then hesitated before opening the door. He stood a little to the side, in the shadows, and peered through the long window next to the door. He wasn’t sure why, but maybe this wasn’t the place for what he wanted or where he wanted to be. He frowned. These people were the closest thing to family that he’d had in a long time.
He was surprised to see Raj sitting at one of the tables drinking and laughing with other caravan outriders, some of which he knew and others were familiar. Raj was the same, except for the beard he now wore, but Eris smiled when the sound of Raj’s particular laugh rose above the others’. His frown returned and still his hand hesitated to pull open the door to rejoin the group that he knew would welcome him back with open arms. From Charra-Tir’s keep to standing here, it was too much of a full circle and he felt suspicion rise. He wondered why that instead of being glad to be back.
Some of the serving girls he didn’t recognize, but then he saw Kaitay come into the room carrying a plate of steaming supper. She was still as comely and attractive as she had been on that night, when she had done her best to entice him, but still this wasn’t what he wanted. He smiled again, surprised, when she turned sideways to put the food on the table. He hadn’t noticed before, but she was with child and he wondered which of those laughing with her was responsible, if any of them knew. Perhaps in the morning, or in a day or two, he would come back to find out.
With a sigh, he turned away from the door and went slowly back down
the steps. Raga was right in that the Black Mare was a rundown hole of a place, but it was home for him here, and maybe he just wasn’t ready to go home. Having spent the better part of a year in the company of sorcerers, kings, gods and demons, perhaps there was time for one more adventure. The bag of gold at his waist would give him the means to do it even if for a few short days.
He decided to head to the wealthy side of town where he knew of a place visited by only the richest and, in theory, noblest of men. It was a place where the women were said to be exceedingly beautiful and the accommodations suited for kings. A type of place he had experienced before, but this time he would be free to come and go as he pleased. The price of two or three nights stay would cost him nearly all the gold he had, but tonight it was a price he was willing to pay.
The eyes that watched him from the shadows let him pass unmolested. He knew they were there and was surprised he wasn’t challenged. But soon enough, the rough men and rougher places were left behind as he walked into the streets of the privileged and the wealthy. The streets were clean. The buildings were painted white and gold with colorful mosaic trims plastered around doors and windows. The streetlights snapped and popped as the sea breezes fanned the flames on the wicks, but they gave off a warm, welcoming glow.
He paused as the sound of muffled crying and shuffling feet came from the dark alley he had just passed. He turned and waited for the assembled group to come onto the street. His breath caught in his throat as the wretched underbelly of the gleaming city came into the light. The guards surrounding the group eyed him, said nothing and continued on.
Out of the darkness came a dozen slaves, all teenaged boys and girls, chained together and herded under the watchful eyes of their keepers. Some turned away when they saw him, but a few, their courage still undaunted, gave him silent, pleading looks.
This has to stop, but how, Eris wondered. His hand hefted the weight of the coins in his pouch. He might have enough to free them, but then what? None of them were fully grown and they would soon fall victim again. He knew of an orphanage, but they were too old, and would be sold again.
A second group came from the shadows, all women, all of them beautiful in spite of their torn clothing and dirty bodies and faces. He knew what fate awaited them. In them, he saw himself, and though Erisa was gone, he felt her ire, her despair all over again. He felt nearly as helpless as when he had curled up on the cot in that dark and grimy room his first night in the harem, tears streaming down his face.
This is wrong. I have to do something... He hefted the bag again and wondered if he had enough to buy them all. He wondered if he could, or if the men escorting them would have him arrested for interfering, or just try to kill him outright for the gold he carried.
“You can’t save the world in one night, Eris.” Raga’s voice whispered softly in his mind.
“I can’t stand here and let this happen.”
“Yes, you can.”
“But…” He was at a loss for words. There were too many emotions, too many ideas that no matter how bold, all ended with them back in captivity.
“The world isn’t ready to change. In a way, it can’t change. The work has to be done and it’s just a matter of who does it. Men won’t pay a wage for what they can force out of another for table scraps and a length of cloth from time to time.”
“But they had their own lives, their hopes, maybe even a dream for—”
“Stop, Eris, let it be. As terrible as this is, it serves to show that you have grown that much more into a man of honor, a man of conscience. When you’re older, when perhaps you’ve achieved some prominence in the world, then you can attempt change. Until then, you’re only a small step above them, and your life forfeit for your trouble, because greed and money always defeats compassion. Always.”
Eris let his shoulders droop as he watched the two groups disappear into the alley across the pristine street. The dark and cruel nature of the city, of men, had to keep the nameless bodies working, the machines turning and hidden so that the façade of all that was beautiful could continue to exist without guilt.
“Go on,” Raga urged, his voice growing a degree fainter.
“Why can’t I hear you?”
“You know why. Now, go enjoy yourself as young men do in the prime of their lives and leave an old sorcerer to make up for some of the wrongs he’s done.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
But there was no response and Eris shivered knowing that Raga had crossed the threshold into Riza’s Seven Hells. In spite of himself, he smiled and wondered which of them would find true hell in each other’s company. His smile widened when he imagined Riza wishing he could send the chatty sorcerer back to the mortal realm after only a week or so.
He took a deep breath and turned from watching the last of the guards disappear into the ally. In this instance, he knew Raga was right, but there was no comfort in that.
Nearing the place he sought, Eris pushed the cloak’s fabric back from his left shoulder so that the doorman saw clearly the hilt of the Tamori sword. He took a gold coin from his pouch and placed it discretely into the man’s hand. The door swung open and the smell of roasting meat and perfume greeted him rather than the smell of stale malt and dirty bodies.
He quickly scanned the room, spotted an empty table and went toward it. He didn’t meet the gaze of those he passed knowing it was bad form to make eye contact in a place where discretion was of utmost importance. He sat down and shrugged off the cloak. His white shirt pulled snugly across his shoulders and his long, raven hair fell in a wavy pattern just below his shoulders.
Before he could ask, a silver cup filled to the brim with ruby-red wine was put before him. It wasn’t as fragrant as Morengoth’s or Raga’s, but it would do. His eyes scanned the room discretely as he held the cup to his mouth and drank down its contents.
It amused him to see the primped and perfumed men of the city, who showed their prowess with wealth rather than steel, squirm self-consciously under the ministrations and whispered propositions of the women moving through the room. Arrayed in a riot of color, gold and glittering gems, the women proved the truth in the rumors that untold beauty moved between the walls of this place. Each was more beautiful than the next and their gossamer veils barely hid the supple curves of their slender bodies. With gentle caresses and whispered promises, they prodded the men into spending their gold liberally.
When Eris lowered his cup and looked up, he saw a raven-haired woman making her way purposely toward him. She was slim of waist and her breasts were barely concealed by bands of red and gold silk. Tiny bells tinkled on her swaying hips. Golden bangles glittered on her wrists and ankles.
“I’ve never seen you before,” she said in a dusky voice as she took the cup from him and set it on the table.
“I’ve been away on business,” Eris answered and wondered if some god was still playing tricks on him as a pale shadow of Erisa swayed in front of him.
When she put her hands on his broad shoulders and slid down next to him, he noticed that she smelled of jasmine not orange blossom. When he grabbed her hand that was deftly reaching around him to assess the heaviness of his money pouch, he decided that all was as it should be.
“Won’t you share some of this with me?” she asked, lowering her eyes when he let her go and her fingers continued their downward drift.
“It depends,” he answered, raising her face with a touch of his finger to her chin. He looked into her pale-green eyes that were heavily shadowed and lined. Her full, red lips glistened and pouted at him. The eyes were neither so green, nor the skin so fair as once he’d known, but they were enough. She was enough to stir the blood silenced for so long.
“Depends on what?” she asked as her fingers reached out and twined through his hair.
Eris turned slightly toward her and her hidden hand pressed and nestled him discreetly. He traced the side of her face with his finger and gave a little smile as he assessed the possibilities. She sighed a
s his fingers gently touched the side of her neck and traced the line of her necklace that ended between her breasts. The curse failed to produce the appalling change and he gave way to the raging desire within.
The End
If you’ve enjoyed this book, you can find others by CA Morgan here.
About CA Morgan
CA Morgan is a writer of fantasy, sword and sorcery and steampunk, whose works have previously appeared in short story anthologies and role-playing gaming books. A former technical writer and editor, days are now spent weaving tales of myth, magic and adventure of all types, while being kept in a secluded castle room under the watchful eyes of dragons that prevent her from straying too far from the keyboard. She often dreams of escaping the arid deserts of Arizona for the mists of the Scottish Highlands… but, there are those dragons…
Acknowledgments
Acknowledgements: I would like to thank Kat Riegel for reading this manuscript at least two dozen times over the course of many years. Sometimes looking for errors, sometimes when, as she said, she had nothing to read and the tale of Eris and Raga called to her from the shelf. Also to LD Anderson and Ingrid Foster for their encouragement and input. And finally, to Stephen del Mar, who insisted that this tale be published at the end of our writer’s retreat—thanks for the nudges and the push off the cliff…it was time.
Copyright
Copyright 2015 by Toughnut Press
No part of this book may be used or reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews. Request for permissions should be address to the publisher.
Toughnut Press, P. O. Box 103, Sahuarita, AZ 85729
Cover Illustration: Nathie Block, www.creationwarrior.net
