by D. L. Carter
“Astonishing,” murmured Mitash.
Halidan tucked the book into her sash, reached for the next. She closed it, balanced the book on the palm of her hand and let it fall open. The pages settled slowly, but opened at the original page. Raising the book to the level of her eyes Halidan examined the paper. There was a small impression mark on each side from the long term presence of the page brace. Curious as to which words of the late High Lord Tribel found so fascinating, Halidan read:
The first few days after the birth I thought all was well, but just hours ago I received the cruelest shock. I cannot believe I have been so deceived! I was passing by my wife's chambers when I heard the most obscene noise coming from it. I entered to discover she and her servants were attempting to perpetuate a fraud upon me. I thought my son was pure when I saw him after his birth, but now I know that is not so. I thought I had examined her history adequately, but I was either accidentally or intentionally misled. She is tainted as so many are. I have the proof lying in a bedchamber in my very House. I saw the creature she birthed lying screaming in her arms, his whole body bright red! I know this as I took the babe from her, striped it naked, and saw with my own eyes he was red to the soles of his feet! A pure blood child would never change to such a shade. It can only be that his blood is tainted! She thinks to continue the deception, but I will not endure it. I shall remove this blight on my family with my own hands. I will drown the creature!
Halidan dropped the book as if it burned her fingers. Eioth's father wanted to kill his own child! No wonder that bedroom was created to ensure that Eioth knew each day of his life that he was unwanted, that his father desired his death. It amazed her that Eioth was as honorable as he was considering the suffering inflicted by the hands of his father, and after that evil bastard’s death, Tribel.
“Halidan, whatever troubles you?”
Leaving the book where it fell, Halidan went to search through the other journals. Mitash stared at her before retrieving the book and reading the lines himself.
Flipping through one journal after another, Halidan found the rantings of a deeply unhappy, prejudiced Elf. She sought for dates or some other clue for time, but found nothing. The late High Lord had not even numbered the entries.
“Oh, Elements,” sighed Mitash as he finished reading. “Eioth can never see this.”
“Do you think he didn't know?” demanded Halidan. “Have you forgotten his bedchamber?”
“Halidan, I have never entered this House before. What is wrong with Lord Eioth's room?”
“You have to see it to understand.”
Halidan went to the door. Fortunately Nittel was still loitering in the corridor.
“Nittel, if you'd be so kind. I need you to collect those books from the case, and make sure they stay in order, put them in a box and have them brought to the High Lord's private library.”
Nittel bowed.
“Then make sure this room is locked and guarded. It will give the High Lord's guards something to do. I want to be certain that it is outdoor staff guarding this door, not the House servants.”
That tended to, Halidan summoned Mitash with a wave and led the way through the House. They barely made it to the main hall when an almighty crash echoed throughout the building shaking dust from the ceiling and setting the curtains billowing. Without a word exchanged, Mitash took the lead and Halidan on his heels, they ran up the stairs. Morae trotted behind them throwing away the food with a curse and drawing his sword as he tried to overtake them.
The crash had come from Eioth's bedchamber. Mitash and Halidan entered to find stunned servants huddling in the corridor – coughing, eyes watering as clouds of dust billowed through the open door behind them. Mitash refused to let Halidan push past him, but entered the chamber ahead of her.
Inside the room the heavy stone sigil no longer hung from the ceiling. Instead it lay shattered on the squashed remains of the narrow bed.
Guards covered head to toe with white powder were assisting other workers to their feet or carrying them from the room.
“Is anyone hurt?” demanded Halidan.
“No,” answered Cris. “The stonemason was up a ladder looking at the chains. He put one hand on the stone, I swear it was just a touch, and the whole thing came crashing down chains and all.”
Mitash went whiter than the stone dust.
“That was the High Lord's bed?” he demanded.
“That was supposed to be the High Lord’s bed,” said Halidan, moving to reassure the secretary. From the shocked look on his face, Mitash was imagining the result if the stone had fallen while the High Lord slept. “In reality, he slept in a side closet. This is the room that the late Lord commanded be constructed for his son and that Tribel fought to keep unchanged all the years since his death.”
Mitash walked around the room examining the debris and what remained of the chains.
“They are not rusted through.” Mitash observed. “Why did it fall after all this time?”
“It was carefully balanced,” replied the stonemason. “A Master’s work, to be sure, to put it in place, but at any moment down it would come.”
“I always suspected as much,” said a hard voice behind them.
Everyone turned to stare at Eioth whose attention was all on his coughing servants.
“It seems you were correct, High Lord,” said Mitash.
“Have the healers fetched. Tribel is known to use poison.” Eioth brushed the stone dust from Halidan’s face with his own hands.
“No. There is nothing here,” said Halidan, since her skin did not sting as it did when exposed to magic.
“It would be well to take no chances,” said Eioth. “Everyone is to bathe as soon as possible. This room is to be cleansed, but only by those who are protected.”
“High Lord,” began Halidan.
She had never seen such an expression on his face. Part pain, part anger and soul deep distress. For a moment she thought he grieved for the destruction, but then she realized, the stone sigil falling had only confirmed what Eioth had believed lifelong. His father had desired his death using this tool. Without her realizing it, her hand reached toward him.
“Halidan, you are paler than I,” said Eioth, cupping her face.
Before she could speak her stomach protested.
“You have not eaten? That is unwise . . . given last night.”
Halidan blushed even as Eioth was turning away.
“Morae?” shouted Eioth.
The bodyguard sighed and tucked his sword away in the scabbard.
“Aye, I’ll get it.”
And he stomped out of the room.
“I . . . must go as well.” Eioth cast one last unreadable glance about the room, brushed his fingers over Halidan’s face, and left.
“What do I do now?” said Halidan softly her heart aching, although she wasn’t certain why.
“Clean the room. He will return when he is ready. I shall try and find a new House manager.” Mitash rested his hand on her arm for an instant. “He will need you, Halidan.”
“And you as well.” Halidan stared at the empty door. “We must celebrate the fall of Tribel. Come, dine with us tonight.”
Mitash bowed. “The full story of today is not one I wish to miss. I shall be here. Thank you again, Halidan.
Making arrangements for that evening’s dinner fell to Halidan since it had become clear to her that none of the servants of the House were accustomed to acting on their own. Tribel ordered every aspect of their lives, from what time they rose in the morning and retired of an evening to the precise moment they were permitted to eat and drink during their day.
Once Halidan recovered from that shock, she declared a rest day for all servants not involved in cleaning the High Lord’s bedroom or cooking.
As for the menu, after a sharp argument with the cooks, she arranged for food that Eioth would actually eat be served that evening.
She retired from the servants’ section uncertain of what she'd
be having for breakfast, however. The servants were so cowed by the previous House manager that they appeared unable to accept that change had arrived and unable to create a plan for the future, or at least, the next day.
Eioth returned from wherever he had retreated to about the same time as Mitash mounted the main staircase.
Mitash handed Halidan a single delicate flower and granted her a formal obeisance.
“Be sensible,” commanded Halidan, flattered and annoyed in equal measure.
“Oh, no,” replied Mitash, rising gracefully. “You have my admiration for today's entertainment.”
Halidan snorted and Eioth shook his head.
“I am still uncertain of the particulars,” he said. “How did this all come to pass? And where is Tribel?”
Halidan gestured in the direction of the dining hall. “If you would grant me your attention?”
Recounting the events of the day took most of the meal. Mitash, in his usual manner, refused to leave any humorous aspect of the adventure unexplored. When Halidan came to the part about Tribel being carried off by the healer tied to a stretcher with blankets Mitash laughed and pounded the table. Eioth merely smiled.
“I shall have to send an adequate donation for his upkeep,” said Eioth. “I am certain it will take a long time to return him to sanity, if ever.”
“Mitash said he was my servant lifelong for arranging him to be present,” observed Halidan.
Eioth glanced across at the giggling Elf and sighed. “Well, if you want him, of course you may have him.”
“He is yours first,” said Halidan dryly. “I would not think of depriving you of him. In fact, I insist you keep him.”
“So kind.”
Mitash wiped tears from his eyes. “We have not reached the end, High Lord. You would not believe what we found when we entered Tribel's room. He had a full formal altar raised to your father. Including a portrait larger than I!”
Eioth's face went hard and cold. “Burn it.”
Mitash and Halidan exchanged a glance.
“Burn . . .” began Halidan.
“Burn it. I know which portrait it is. Renthi commissioned the painting when the last High King fell ill. Before the King was dead. Before we knew that the crown was lost so completely, my father was advancing himself as the logical replacement. Once it was clear no one would be promoted, since there was no crown, Renthi . . . became agitated.” Eioth's lips tightened. “The disappointment burned in his soul all the years I knew him.”
Not knowing to what degree Mitash was in Eioth's confidence Halidan said nothing about the results of their magical vision.
“There were other things in the room. Your father's personal journals . . .” she began.
“Burn them, as well.”
Halidan opened her mouth to protest then fell silent. They were books, after all, so she was reluctant to consign them to the flames and there might come a time that Eioth would repent of their destruction. He could not really intend that she burn books. She hadn't told him where she'd placed them and doubted he'd ask to witness their destruction so she felt safe enough keeping them for awhile. She decided not to mention what she and Mitash had read in the book of rules.
Silence settled on the table. Even Mitash's appetite was affected. He glanced at Halidan once or twice and she knew he was waiting to see if she'd comment further on the journals. When she did not, he cast about for a new subject.
“Halidan has requested I employ a new House manager. Specifically she requested a person of half blood.”
Eioth brought himself back from whatever subject he was brooding upon and nodded.
“Whatever she wishes, she has other, more important duties than ordering the Household. I am afraid, friend Mitash, your responsibilities are expanded. I will require your oversight of my House as well until Tribel is replaced. And, of your kindness, write to the Sanctuary. Assure them that I shall pay for Tribel's treatment, but since he has reached such an advanced age, I have no expectation of his returning to work. In fact, I insist he retire. They should keep that in mind when they tend him. If needed, I shall provide for his upkeep at the Sanctuary for the remainder of his life, but make it clear. I shall not permit him back beneath this roof, ever!”
“I shall send that message at first light, High Lord.” Mitash made a note on a scrap of paper and tucked it in his sash. “And I shall do my best to have a temporary manager installed as soon as possible.”
Mitash left as soon as the last scrap of bread was consumed. Fortunately for Halidan's nerves, they were not left alone for long. Two servants appeared at the door, watching Eioth uncertainly.
“Reassure them,” whispered Halidan. “I have had the greatest difficulty assuring them that Tribel's rules end with his departure.”
Eioth rose and spoke briefly to each. One began to clear the table, the other waited, arms folded within his sleeves. Eioth nodded and returned to the table where Halidan waited.
“This one has informed me that the changes to my bedchamber are complete.”
Halidan came to her feet. “Already? I thought it would take days to clear the debris.”
A small smile quirked Eioth's lips. “Apparently, they were motivated by the confusion of the day to work hard. Someone,” Eioth's eyebrows rose, “threatened the security of the employment of anyone who hesitated to obey you.”
“Should I apologize?” asked Halidan. “I know it was unkind, but it was also the truth. They were beyond disobedient!”
“I am not complaining; they deserve the uncertainty. Mitash will deal with the consequences in the morning. I, myself, am content. I have wanted that room changed my whole life and I am grateful that it is finally done. You, however, do have something you need to do. Have you given any thought to the reward you will give to Cris and his friends?”
“Cris?” Halidan was startled by the change of subject.
“Your bodyguards acted to save your life today, Halidan. They rescued you from an attacker. Admittedly it was from an old man with a chair, but one of them did take a wound in your stead. Traditionally, one is supposed to reward bodyguards even for the minor injuries so that they will not hesitate when the greater battles and permanent sacrifices are called for. Since I have promoted you, I have informed them they continue as your guard. Their salary is higher, but I know that they will be loyal to you beyond anything any money could buy.”
Halidan stared at him blankly. “I have no need for them. I will rarely leave the House . . .”
“We already know how unhealthy such an act is. You are free to come and go as you will. I shall not permit you to hurt their feelings by rejecting them. Which brings us back to their reward. Money could be given, but it is generally considered to be lacking in style.” When Halidan hesitated Eioth repeated. “Nittel did take a wound for you.”
“He was bitten on the hand by a mad old Elf. Twice.” Halidan laughed. “Oh, very well, but what shall I give them?”
“It should be something personal.”
They were passing Eioth's library when an idea struck her.
“I am uncertain how to do this, considering the content, but it occurs to me that they would enjoy The Adventures of Norfarland. All the Adventures. But, if I gave them the books directly, I should blush to see them knowing that they'd . . . knowing what is in those books.”
She stopped in confusion. Uncertain how to explain her difficulty. How could she give books describing intimacies to them and not have the action misunderstood?
Eioth only smiled. “It is simple enough. Mitash will handle it. He shall tell them that you ordered a certain amount be used to purchase books to inspire them in their studies and Mitash, being male as well as they, knew they would find particular books more inspiring than others.”
This time Halidan did blush. Eioth brushed his fingers over her cheek and turned to open the door to his chamber, blocking Halidan's view of the room beyond.
After a pause he reached out and drew her to his side.
The room astonished Halidan. It was clean, not a speck of stone or shattered wood remained. Someone had even plastered over the holes in the roof where late the chains had hung. Instead of garish, elaborate furnishings the walls were clear of decoration and painted palest green. The carpet was lush gold brown. The bed, huge and covered in soft pillows of gold and green, was carved of white pine, clean and innocent.
When she had looked her fill she turned to face the High Lord. His face was solemn. “I know that I cannot expect you to join me here soon, but I shall live in the hope that you shall relent and share this room with me.”
“It is beyond me to answer that at this time,” said Halidan and left.
Chapter Sixteen
The disadvantage of oral sexual stimulation in Sex Magic is that your partner is unable to chant and you are too distracted!
Reversing the act also holds true.
The Uses and Complexity of Sex Magic
There were books stacked on the floor. Books spread across the tables, a few arranged on cloth spread on the floor. The air was filled with dust and the scent of leather preserving oil. This was all Halidan had to show for two weeks of labor. She paused in her arranging of books by subject to ruffle her hair. Since the application of the Sex Magic baths, her skin was exquisitely sensitive to the touch. She wore light weight clothing on her body, but could no longer bring herself to wear the head scarf. Each individual hair on her head complained about the weight and pressure. She brushed the short strands back into place with her fingers and was contemplating the job before her when Mitash came seeking her.
