The Use

by D. L. Carter

  And she read . . .

  “Norfarland, I beg you,” said Baeth. “I cannot bear to be wed to Risha and never know the joy of my beloved Nihal. You must aid us.”

  “My life for yours, Baeth . . . usually,” drawled Norfarland, studying his fingernails, “but in this matter, I cannot see how I can aid you. You must be wed to Risha. It is your father's wish and your lord's command. There is no alternative for you.”

  “But, first I must love Nihal,” said Baeth. “She is the light, the moon, and the stars and I cannot live without her touch at least once. I must bury myself in her heat and know joy or else my life would have been to no purpose. Only aid me in this, my friend and anything I can grant you shall be yours. Money. Horses. Favors . . .”

  “Money?” The always impoverished Norfarland left his resting place against the window to bow before his friend. “I live but to serve you. Do you need my help climbing the walls to reach Nihal's bedchamber?”

  “No, I need you to take my place, my name, and stay here. Her brothers will be arriving soon with the Water priest to instruct and stand guard over me for the Bachelor’s Moon, to tend to my needs lest I be a disappointment to my wife. They have not met me. Stay here and receive them in my place. While you distract them, I shall depart to Nihal.”

  “But, I am not you,” protested Norfarland. “In no way do I resemble you. What shall be done when the day of the wedding arrives and the man who has been secluded and protected for a moon is not the one who appears to be wed?”

  “What sort of book is this?” demanded Halidan.

  “That can't be the good part,” said Porish.

  “I know. I know.” Lilianda turned the page. “That will be when Baeth reaches Nihal. Only give me a moment and I shall find it.”

  “Give me the book,” commanded Halidan. Both girls turned to stare at her. “It is my book, after all.”

  “I have found it. Listen.” Lilianda directed a practiced sneer toward Halidan and continued.

  “Nihal's ivory skin glowed through the thin nightgown. The shadows of her breasts called to Baeth, speaking of delights unimaginable. Soft, smooth flesh for his fingers to explore. Hungers to be excited and satisfied . . .”

  “Give it back,” interrupted Halidan, shocked white and reaching for the book. “This book is far too advanced for your years.”

  Lilianda raised it out of Halidan's reach while Porish thrust her body between them. Both girls together were smaller and lighter than Halidan, but they were quick, wiry, and determined to keep the forbidden book.

  “Beath's hand trembled as he caressed her breast, cupping its soft weight . . .”

  Halidan dove for the book, throwing one arm across the printed page, blocking Lilianda's view. The girl grabbed one of Halidan's fingers and pulled it back, hard. Halidan bit back a scream.

  He opened his lips to accept the bright nipple . . .

  “This is not for you,” cried Halidan, forcing the words out past the pain. “You are too young.”

  “I am old enough to decide for myself,” said Lilianda, dragging the book from under Halidan's body, folding and permanently creasing a page in the process.

  “Get her off,” commanded Porish.

  The servant seized Halidan around the throat and pulled. Halidan freed herself with one backward thrust of her elbow to the servant's chest. The Ladies Carriage bounced and swayed on its wheels and Porish screamed as she clutched at the delicate fabrics of the shelter.

  . . . into his mouth with the delicacy and a hunger for this rare . . . continued Lilianda.

  The damaged page suggested a solution to Halidan. Straightening her clothing, she sat back and regarded the younger girl sternly and used the voice that had brought her other students to obedience.

  “You are damaging my property. If you do not return it this instant, I shall appeal to the High Lord for justice and demand that you pay its value in full.”

  Lilianda examined the cover of the book and granted Halidan another view of her sneer.

  “This is hardly a rare edition. I can afford the fine.”

  “Perhaps so, but if I demand my hearing before the Court of Common Pleas, then your name, the name of your clan, and the title of the book you mangled shall be read aloud before your father, your mother, the matriarch of your clan, and anyone else who happens to be at court on that day. Then that information will be recorded in court documents to be examined later by anyone who chooses to look for them.”

  Porish gasped while Lilianda tightened her grip on the book, bending the cover a little.

  “Such documents are not erased no matter who begs or how much money is offered,” continued Halidan, “no matter what rumors you have heard to the contrary. It shall be there for anyone to read and when some man's family begins examining your worthiness for a marriage contract no doubt they shall find the entry . . .”

  The girls exchanged worried glances.

  “. . . But, if as you say, your aunt reads The Adventures of Norfarland without any harm, then it must be right and you might even receive praise for your studiousness.”

  Everything in Halidan’s voice and manner expressed her doubt as to that conclusion.

  Pouting, Lilianda handed the book over to Halidan who slammed it shut.

  “This is hardly a proper book for ladies of your age,” she said blushing. “Lord Eioth could not have known the contents.”

  “I am certain he knew very well what was inside. The Adventures of Norfarland are famous,” said Lilianda, “and Lord Eioth is an experienced man.”

  “Whatever he may be, you are very young. Such books are not for you.”

  Halidan put the book behind her back out of reach of the Elven ladies and examined the book of poetry.

  The title, delicately imprinted and entwined with what first appeared to be leaves and trees, but resolved itself into the image of a reclining lady and gentleman, was Songs of My Desire. Halidan didn't even bother to open the cover.

  “No,” said Halidan. “This will not do for you, either.” She put both books behind her back and faced the petulant ladies. “What books do you have with you?”

  “None,” declared Lilianda. “We want to read that one.”

  “It isn't suitable. Your parents could hardly approve.”

  Both girls folded their arms and glared, but Halidan, with many years of training young girls behind her, was proof against them. Instead she picked up the game board that had previously left a dent in her leg and opened it.

  “Did you find all the pieces earlier?”

  “No! The set is incomplete.”

  Halidan ignored them and searched through the baskets until she had enough pieces to begin the game.

  “Come, I shall permit the two of you to combine your forces against mine. We shall see who has the better strategy.”

  “And if we win, we get the book?”

  “No.”

  “Then why should we play?”

  “Do you have anything better to do?”

  The remainder of the morning was spent with the Ladies Worind struggling and failing to overcome Halidan's defenses and seeking some bribe, threat, or other inducement to get her to give up the forbidden books. When the processional halted long after noon, Halidan was beyond grateful to escape the atmosphere in the carriage. Mitash supervised their disembarkation.

  “An hour only, ladies, and then we must be on our way again,” he said.

  Lilianda and Porish sniffed as they stalked past him. Halidan accepted his hand for the climb down and gave him a weary smile.

  “How is all with you?” whispered Mitash.

  “I endure,” said Halidan with a roll of her eyes.

  Mitash grinned at her. “I rejoice to hear it. This inn has comfortable facilities. I have taken one of the smaller parlors for our use. Lord Eioth will not be joining us for lunch as he has a call to make upon the local magistrate. Do not wait to dine with me, either. Despite preparations, there is always something for me to tend to. I shal
l join you as soon as I can.” Mitash escorted her to the inn doors and gestured to one of the mortal maids to come and assist Halidan. When he saw Halidan hesitate, he added, “The Ladies Worind dine alone.”

  “Oh. Thank you.”

  Escorted to an open, airy room Halidan could only be grateful to be left alone for a few minutes. The maid vanished after pointing to the waiting food and drink. Halidan ignored it, instead sinking onto a wide couch, closing her eyes and resting her head on the armrest. Hours already spent in the company of the high-born children with the rest of the day still to come left Halidan exhausted . . . and angry. The High Lord had accidentally put her in a dreadful position.

  Placing Halidan in their carriage was an affront to the sensitive dignity of the underage girls. It was very well for him to say she was not servant to the Worind Ladies. The girls were accustomed to the pattern of servant and treated her with much the same contempt as they showed their own attendant. Added to the problem, he had thrown in the temptation of a book not suitable for their years, and the tension in the Ladies Carriage had mounted high enough to draw a thunderstorm. Halidan was determined that she would be first back to the carriage and if necessary, sit on the books, else the afternoon would be spent wrestling to get them back.

  She was asleep between one thought and the next.She slept until the maid appeared to clean the room.

  Surprised to see one of the High Lord's entourage curled up when the first of the supply carriages were already leaving the little village, the maid seized Halidan by the arm and shook her hard. “Wake up! Quick! You'll be left behind.”

  Halidan rubbed her face and blinked at her in confusion. “But, I thought Mitash would wake me . . .”

  “Not he. No one has come to this room,” declared the maid. “You should be in haste, they are in motion.”

  Halidan leapt to her feet and charged down the stairs all dignity forgotten. She burst into the courtyard just as the Lady’s Coach shook its petals and lurched into motion. She ran alongside reaching for the folded stairs. As she touched them, jerking the canopy, the servant pushed the fabric to one side and leaned out.

  “My ladies request you find another transport,” she shouted. “They are resting and there is no place for you.”

  And with that the servant vanished. The driver whipped up his horses and did not appear to hear when Halidan called out to him.

  Several other carriages rumbled past, building up speed. Halidan jogged along beside as her mind raced. How was she to catch up? Would any of the wagoners believe her if she said she was part of the processional? They would, if she could only get someone to pause long enough to examine Mitash's entry in her papers. Someone who could read.

  “Lady,” came a familiar voice behind her.

  Halidan staggered and turned. There, in an open carriage with near twenty other guards, was Cris, the half-Elven male she'd met only a night before.

  “Lady, how is it with you?” He leaned down as his carriage drew even with her.

  “The coach has left without me,” cried Halidan, walking faster to keep level with him.

  “Travel with us!” Nittel appeared at his friend's elbow and held out his hand.

  “Don't be ridiculous,” said Cris and swung himself over the wall of the carriage and down beside Halidan.

  Without another word he was off, running as fast as he could toward the front of the procession. Halidan stopped jogging. Should the procession leave without her she was not without resources – there was the money hidden in her shoe and now someone she knew a little to aid her. The two of them could catch up somehow. Cris would know what to do.

  A moment later Mitash was pulling his horse to a halt beside her.

  “Halidan, how comes this? Surely you have not forgotten how to be punctual?”

  “The Ladies Worind are resting and there is no room for me in their carriage,” was Halidan’s dry reply.

  Mitash's smile vanished. “I shall have them clean their carriage with their toothbrushes,” he declared with some heat. “Do you know how to ride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wait here.” He kicked his horse into motion, heading for the rear of the procession.

  After a few minutes, Cris was back at her side panting, but still alert and attentive. “Is all well with you now?” he asked.

  “Yes, thanks to you. I am in your debt.”

  “My honor.” He seized hold of the side of a passing carriage and prepared to haul himself aboard.

  “Hold,” cried Mitash, returning with two horses on leading ropes. “Guard, I require you attend the lady. Here, both of you, up and advance in the order of the processional until you are behind Lord Eioth and myself.”

  Mitash waited long enough to see the guard boost Halidan into her saddle and swing up himself, then he was off, again. Halidan took the time to adjust her stirrups before shaking her horse into a walk. Cris kept close on her heels as they advanced. When they passed the carriage where his friends rode he affected not to notice them, but rode past with his nose dramatically in the air. Halidan giggled.

  “They will make you suffer for that later,” she said, when they were out of earshot.

  “I think not. They will be pleased. We've decided that you are our lucky charm. After listening to us speak with you, High Lord Eioth himself ordered us hired.”

  “Oh, I doubt I had anything to do with it.”

  “The truth, I swear it. He said so himself. He said we demonstrated fine manners and respect when we offered to assist someone bereft and alone. It was a stirring speech; I was quite impressed.” He drawled the last, staring off toward the front of the procession.

  Halidan gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “A cynic, are you?”

  “I shall be less of one when some of the promises made when we were hired come to fruition.”

  “Promises?”

  Cris almost blushed. “Well, one of the things he said impressed him was that we weren't satisfied with being ignorant. That we wanted to read. I have been promised lessons.” He frowned and pressed his hand to his tunic where his papers rested. “We've also been promised shares of sales when we safely deliver a caravan. That is something I've heard of, but never received. It is easy for an employer to promise and then say it was never written.”

  “Show me your papers. If it isn't there, then you will know.” And I will know more about my employer, thought Halidan.

  He handed over his papers. Halidan wrapped the reins around her wrist and trusted her horse would follow along while she read.

  “So, Cris Drackolan, I greet you. Hired as guard to the property of High Lord Eioth.” Halidan scanned the fine script. “In addition to learning to read, which is a requirement of your employment, by the way, not an extra, and the shares of any caravan guard duty where the journey is over three hundred lei, he also includes you in the grace and favor protection.”

  Halidan folded the papers closed and held it out.

  “What does that mean?” demanded Cris.

  “That should you receive an injury that prevents your working while in his service, he will provide your food and shelter until you are healed or dead. Apparently,” said Halidan, as much to herself as to the guard, “Lord Eioth does not cast anyone off because of ill health.”

  Cris tucked his papers away and nodded. “I'd heard that of him. We will be in your debt lifelong for this opportunity, lady.”

  “Halidan. Halidan tor Ephram.”

  “My life for yours, tor Halidan,” said Cris sincerely, bowing in his saddle.

  Before Halidan could reply Mitash appeared beside them carrying a shimmering bundle of fabric.

  “Your sun shield, Halidan.”

  Halidan was astonished that Mitash had taken the time to locate her luggage and fetch the cloak.

  “This was unnecessary, Mitash. I have no fine complexion to protect.”

  “Even so,” said Mitash and gestured to Cris to hold her horse’s head while Halidan wrestled the hooded cloak on. “Now, come
. There is less dust at the front.”

  Turning his horse’s head he led the way along the side of the slow moving carriages, coaches, and their guards. At Mitash's gesture, Halidan and Cris moved their horses into line behind the lead cluster of riders.

  Halidan could see Lord Eioth's back, straight and strong, and his profile from time to time when he turned to listen to another Elf or his attendants who rode beside him. After a lei, the Elf bowed, departed, and another took his place. It took Halidan a candlemark more to work out what was happening. The High Lord was taking advantage of his procession through his lands to exchange a few words with any who sought him out. It appeared to Halidan that each petitioner had a full lei to explain their needs to the High Lord. A pack horse, with woven baskets hanging on both sides, traveled beside Mitash. When each petitioner departed Eioth passed any written materials to Mitash who tossed them into the baskets. No doubt this traveling interview was a sensible procedure. If the High Lord was to receive each person for a drink in some inn or private home he would be held there for hours, never finish his work and be no closer to his own home at the end of it.

  When they reached their night’s accommodations, Halidan was stiff from the long ride and more than willing to accept Mitash’s aid into the inn. She was already in her assigned parlor and watching from the balcony when the Ladies Carriage shuddered to a stop, so she had an excellent view of Lord Eioth's detailed and public reprimand of the young ladies. The amused and superior expressions of the Ladies Worind as they were assisted down from their carriage lasted mere seconds. High Lord Eioth, his arms folded into his sleeves, waited at the foot of their steps. Their crime, abandonment of a fellow traveler, was sufficiently severe that they could have earned themselves time in the local gaol had the High Lord wished it so. If they'd thought that he was reluctant to wield his personal authority and power, they learned differently that evening. He did not raise his voice, neither did he threaten, but by the end of the lecture, both young women were shaken to their very toes, and not incidentally, vowing never to suggest an alliance marriage with the High Lord.