The Empress and the Acolyte

by Jane Fletcher

  Abruptly, the defiance went out of Yenneg. His shoulders slumped, but a little-boy smile blossomed hopefully on his face. “Oh, well. It was worth the try.”

  Bykoda looked at him. “You admit drugging the mercenary?”

  “Just a simple love potion. Branon’s red infusion.”

  “Why?”

  Yenneg gestured vaguely towards Tevi. “She’s got a real talent for leadership. I wanted her in my part of the army, but she wasn’t going to leave Jemeryl. So I thought if I could get Jemeryl to ditch her first...” He let the sentence trail off and nodded towards the hole in the wall. “Anyway. No harm done. She missed me.”

  Jemeryl’s hands started to move in the build up to a fireball.

  “Jemeryl. Stop that.” Bykoda snapped out the command.

  “He’s a—”

  Bykoda glared at her acolyte. “Yenneg. Leave us now. And no more stupid tricks.”

  “Yes, my Empress.” Yenneg gave a nervous half bow and slipped away from the summerhouse.

  “I’ll kill him,” Jemeryl whispered.

  “You most certainly won’t.” Amusement had left Bykoda’s voice “This is the sort of thing my acolytes get up to all the time. Usually for bigger stakes than one ungifted warrior, whatever her talents. Accept it as the price for what you’ve gained in your time here. I’ve granted you a lot of privileges. Don’t overstep the mark. Yenneg is worth more to me than a thousand like her...or you.” Bykoda let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. “I suggest you take your mercenary to Dunarth for the antidote. And then go back to your quarters and calm down.” The Empress turned around sharply and followed her acolyte off into the night.

  Tevi had watched throughout as a passive observer. The ferocity of her desire for Jemeryl rendered her body helpless. But now she was in the situation she most wanted—they were alone together. When Jemeryl knelt by her side, Tevi reached out, ready to drag her lover into her arms. She must have Jemeryl right that second, or she would die from the pain.

  However, her coordination was hampered by the potion and Jemeryl evaded the clumsy grab. She caught hold of Tevi’s hands and held them securely and then stared into Tevi’s eyes.

  “Poor love. You’re pretty deep under the spell, aren’t you?”

  “Please...Jem...I need to...I need.” Tevi had never felt desire like it in her life. She was not sure if she could live another minute without release. Her body felt ready to explode. Her skin ached.

  “I’m sure you do.” Jemeryl stood up, hauling Tevi to her feet and pulling her towards the door. “But when I make love to you, I want it to be you, not Yenneg’s filthy potion. Come on.”

  Tevi was too disorientated to resist being led into the garden, but she made one last appeal. “Where are we going? Can’t we stay here, just a little...please?”

  Jemeryl was unmoved. “I’m taking you to Dunarth for the antidote. You may not like Bykoda’s ethics, but her advice is always very practical.”

  *

  “People think I’ve got nothing better to do than sort out their juvenile pranks.”

  Dunarth sounded just as angry as Jemeryl felt, although with less obvious cause. She turned and trudged off down the corridor like a spoilt four-year-old in a sulk. Jemeryl followed after, still with Tevi in tow, while battling the urge to point out that if the alchemist had not made the love potion in the first place then they would all have been spared the aggravation.

  In the potion preparation room, Dunarth directed Tevi to a chair and then held a dosing rod over her for a few seconds. She looked at Jemeryl. “Are you sure you want the exact antidote? I’ve got another potion here that’ll—”

  “I want the exact antidote.” Jemeryl did not wish to hear what Dunarth thought might be suitable compromise for Tevi.

  Dunarth slammed the rod down on a bench. “Right.” She stomped off again, the maturity level of her behaviour having dropped by at least another twelve months.

  Tevi sagged in the chair, her head slumped forwards. From the way she had her hands clenched around each other, Jemeryl guessed that she was struggling with the effects of the potion. She fought her own temptation to give her lover a hug. It would only make Tevi’s ordeal harder.

  “Don’t worry. Once you get the antidote, things will settle down.”

  “Soon, hopefully.” Tevi’s voice was strained. “And I’m sorry about the trolls. I should have asked you first.”

  “It’s all right.” In fact, Jemeryl needed a few seconds even to remember what Tevi was referring to. Her anger with Yenneg had driven all else from her head.

  “It’s just that everyone else here thinks of me as a possession. I just needed to do something, even though it was stupid, just to prove that I could do what I wanted.”

  “It really is all right. And for what it’s worth, Bykoda thought it was a good plan.”

  “I won’t do it again.”

  “We’re leaving soon. You won’t have a chance.”

  Tevi nodded and her head sank even lower. “I’m so pleased you turned up when you did. What made you come to the summerhouse?”

  “I was just about to leave Bykoda when we got a note from Anid saying events were taking place that we ought to know about. I’ve got no idea how she knew.”

  “Are you sure it was from Anid?”

  “That’s who the signature said. I didn’t do any tests to make sure. There didn’t seem any reason to at the time.”

  “I’ll bet it was from Yenneg. He sent a note off just before we entered the garden.”

  “Oh...of course. Yenneg wanted me to discover you. And it was wise of him to arrange for Bykoda to be there as well, else I’d have killed him.” Jemeryl drew in a deep breath. “I still might if I get the chance.”

  “Not a good idea to upset Bykoda.”

  Jemeryl let the breath out in a sigh. “It’s all right. I’ll probably have calmed down by tomorrow.” Without thinking, she reached out to pat Tevi’s shoulder, but then restrained the gesture.

  Around them the benches held a similar number of distillations to the last time Jemeryl had been there. The faint sound of dripping marked their progress. At the other end of the room Dunarth was thumping around. Amazingly, no glassware had yet been broken.

  Jemeryl’s thoughts jumped around in her head, stringing events together. “You know, this plot of Yenneg’s explains a lot.”

  “In what way?” Tevi asked without looking up.

  “Like the brooch we found after your first meeting with him. Yenneg snuck into our quarters and planted it so it looked like the thing had dropped from your pocket. He knew you were out on patrol, so I’d be the one to find it. I was supposed to think he was giving you expensive presents that you weren’t telling me about. And you losing track of time on the battle table. I bet he did that to you so you’d be coming back late from his quarters with no good explanation of what you’d been doing.”

  “The love letter in the book?”

  “That too. He picked a book he thought you wouldn’t be able to read and probably hoped that by then, I’d be suspicious enough to be checking all the things you got from him. I was supposed to find the note and think that the she in soon she will be gone referred to me.”

  Tevi shook her head. “It never even occurred to me to read it that way.”

  “It didn’t occur to me either.”

  “It’s nice to know you trust me so much.”

  “More a case of Yenneg being male.”

  “And if it had been Anid playing tricks?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not even then. I do trust you.”

  Tevi gave a snort that was probably as close to a laugh as she was capable. “So you’re saying I needn’t be particularly furtive when I want to indulge in some misbehaviour?”

  “I hope that’s just the love potion talking.” Jemeryl was also teasing, although on further thought, she surprised herself at how much she did trust Tevi. She would never have considered the idea that her partner might be unfaithful. I�
��m just too arrogant about my own charms, she derided herself.

  Tevi groaned. “I don’t know. I’m all over the place at the moment. I thought love potions were supposed to make you fall for the person who gave it to you.”

  “Most do. But the one Yenneg used was one of the subtler potions that works on existing sexual responses.”

  “He thought that I was already keen on him?”

  “Not exactly. But he assumed that there’d be something for the potion to inflame. It needn’t be full attraction, just an awareness.”

  Tevi lifted her head. “When I said no to him, in spite of the potion, I think he got the idea that you have me spellbound.”

  “That’s understandable. Normally magic is the only way to put in the sort of emotional block that your culture has given you. You didn’t start with any feelings for him that the potion could work on.”

  “Was that why I felt attracted whenever I didn’t think about it, but as soon as I focused on him I felt ill?”

  “I don’t know. He makes me sick as well.”

  “Could a different sort of potion have made me fall for him?”

  “Oh yes. But they’re easier to spot and harder to control. Yenneg was too confident of his own allure to think he needed it.”

  “I find it hard to imagine.”

  “Anyone can become besotted with anything. We used to play games with potions when I was an apprentice in Lyremouth...young enough to think it was funny. We got one of my friends to fall head over heels for a table in the refectory.” Jemeryl paused, considering the memory and then smiled. “Actually, that time was rather amusing.”

  Dunarth reappeared, huffing as if she’d had to run three times round the castle. She banged a pottery beaker on the table with as much force as she could without breaking it. “There’s your antidote. Leave it to settle for five minutes before drinking, though I don’t know why I bother saying it. Nobody ever listens to me.” She jerked her thumb at a nearby set of funnels and tubes. “Do you know what that is?”

  “Poison?” Jemeryl guessed.

  “Make it stronger. Make it stronger.” Dunarth affected an inane jabber. “That’s all I get asked. With that coating a weapon, just one scratch, and you’re dead in seconds.”

  “Sounds effective.”

  “But why? It’s too effective. Soldiers expect their comrades to die. Rather than simply dropping dead, it would be much more useful to have the victims screaming and thrashing about for a couple of hours. Destroys morale and breaks up formations. Makes sense, doesn’t it, Captain?”

  “Er...yes,” Tevi agreed with a catch in her voice.

  “There. Even an ungifted warrior agrees with me, but nobody else does.” Dunarth turned and stamped away. “Do what you like with the antidote. Wash your hair with it. I’m going to find something useful to do.”

  As the door shut, Tevi groaned. “I’m so pleased you’re here. I wouldn’t want to be alone with her.”

  “So am I. I wouldn’t trust Dunarth not to try a few experiments out on you. She’s interested in your strength.”

  “It’s not that. I’m starting to think she’s sexy.”

  *

  Tevi collapsed onto the couch and closed her eyes. Relief washed over her, just to be back in their own rooms and feeling more in control, even though Jemeryl had said that an hour or two might pass before the antidote completed its work. Tevi was content to wait it out. The evening had held more than its fair share of unpleasant experiences. For the moment, things were getting better and all she wanted was to relax.

  Jemeryl did not immediately join her on the couch. Tevi heard footsteps and then a faint rustle of paper.

  “Is this the cryptic note Yenneg sent?”

  “Has it got the bit about this situation cannot continue?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then that’s the note. It was odd enough that I went to see him at once.”

  The couch moved as Jemeryl sat down. Without opening her eyes Tevi shifted closer, so that their shoulders were touching. The contact sparked ripples through her.

  Jemeryl said, “He wanted you to visit him while I was still with Bykoda. But he must have hoped you’d leave the note behind. I bet it was intended to inflame my jealousy so that if his messenger thrall missed me at the keep, I’d still see it and come looking for you.”

  “He’s been very busy scheming.”

  “True, and he’s totally thrown us out with all those events that have absolutely nothing to do with Bykoda’s murder.”

  “So we’ve got less idea about who kills her than the complete blank we thought we had?”

  “That sums it up. Except we’d be even worse off if Yenneg hadn’t left his brooch back at the beginning. Because then I might never have thought to check the box and we would not have found out about the tracer charm swap.”

  “But it still hasn’t got us anywhere, has it?”

  “Not really.”

  Tevi opened one eye and watched Jemeryl screw the note into a ball and toss it onto the fire. The shape of Jemeryl’s hand drew her gaze, transfixing her with memories. Tevi felt her breathing become fast and shallow. Desperately, she tried to distract herself. “How about that new poison Dunarth was talking about?”

  “The shield blocks normal missiles as well as magic. An arrow or dart couldn’t get through.”

  “Perhaps the murderer coats Bykoda’s throne with it. All it would take is one scratch.”

  “When did you last scratch yourself on a chair?”

  “It happens.”

  “Not often enough to rely on. And there can’t be any sort of hidden device. The room is searched, inch by inch, before each council meeting.” Jemeryl shifted around on the couch. Their shoulders rubbing together made Tevi’s insides kick.

  “So you...um, don’t have any ideas?”

  “To tell the truth, at the moment I’m not feeling that bothered about whoever kills Bykoda.”

  “I thought you liked her.”

  “That was before she implied that I should overlook somebody trying to rape you as suitable payment for a few spells.”

  Tevi scrunched her eyes shut, but not due to distress over Yenneg’s intentions. In fact, she found it hard to think about him at all. Awareness of Jemeryl, sitting beside her and discussing sexually charged matters, was blasting all other thoughts from her head. Tevi forced herself to concentrate. “For what it’s worth, Yenneg backed off as soon as I said no. Although I think it was more from surprise than respecting my wishes.”

  “You were ensorcelled and in no fit state to say yes or no.”

  “And I think he was intending to get caught before things went that far.”

  “Even so, I still want to kill him.” Jemeryl scooped up Tevi’s hand, interlaced their fingers, and pressed Tevi’s knuckles against her lips. “You’re mine.”

  “Always.” Tevi could hold back her desire no longer. She rolled her head round so that she was staring into Jemeryl’s eyes. “I want to make love to you right now.”

  Jemeryl looked unmoved. “You’re still feeling the effects of the potion.”

  “Maybe. But it doesn’t take a potion to make me feel this way about you.”

  “You can’t be sure of—”

  Tevi did not let her finish. She wrapped her hand around the back of Jemeryl’s neck and pulled her forwards. Their lips touched in a kiss, gentle at first, but growing in passion. Her hand slipped lower, pulling Jemeryl more closely against her. Tevi felt as if her existence was defined by the contact of their mouths.

  Eventually, Jemeryl struggled back, pulling free. “I don’t know if we should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want to think that Yenneg is playing any part.”

  “He isn’t. This is the last thing he intended.”

  “But it...” Their eyes locked and Jemeryl’s voice died.

  “And who really cares?” Tevi asked softly. She shifted her hold on Jemeryl, easing her around on the couch. “As
you said, no matter what, I’m yours.”

  Jemeryl was now facing Tevi, her knees curled on the seat and most of her weight pressing against Tevi’s legs. Their noses were mere inches apart. Tevi felt her pulse racing. She pulled Jemeryl into another kiss, longer and more forceful.

  When Jemeryl drew back a second time, Tevi did not give her the chance to speak. Without letting their eyes meet, Tevi caught the ties on Jemeryl’s shirt and began tugging them loose. At the sound of a drawn breath, Tevi hesitated a second, dreading that she would be told to stop, but the only response was a sigh.

  Once the last of the ties were undone, Tevi pushed back the loose fabric. Beneath was a thicker, close-fitting undershirt—necessary in the chill northern spring. The fastening on this was a score of tiny buttons. Tevi struggled with the first and gave up on the second. Need surged through her. Unable to bear any more delay, she seized the shirt by the collar in both hands and ripped it open.

  “Tevi!” Jemeryl gasped her surprise.

  Tevi was too overwhelmed by desire to care. She pulled Jemeryl to her. Her face burrowed through the remnants of the undershirt until her lips made contact with the warmth of Jemeryl’s skin. The soft touch flooded through her in a wave of sensation, fuelling her desperate hunger. The strain of the evening of denial combined in that moment, and shattered. Tears started in Tevi’s eyes.

  She stood, effortlessly lifting her lover’s weight, took one step forwards, and then lay Jemeryl down on the sheepskin rug before the fire. Tevi pushed back the torn undershirt, exposing more of Jemeryl’s skin to the amber light. The sight transfixed her eyes. She spread her hand over the firm stomach muscles, then swept up to cup the fullness of Jemeryl’s breast. Her thumb rubbed over a nipple that enlarged and hardened at her touch.

  Tevi lowered her mouth to Jemeryl’s throat and traced the line of collarbone with her tongue, while her hands loosened the clasp on Jemeryl’s belt. Jemeryl’s breathing turned to gasps and her arms around Tevi’s shoulders tightened. The sound and the touch and the taste washed over Tevi, inflaming her senses, and at the same time relaxing her. She was safe, secure, and loved. And, more than anything else, she knew she was where she ought to be.