The Use

by D. L. Carter

  “Comfortable!” His breath hissed out and he sagged back against the chair. “Comfortable. Never have I been damned so completely by one word. Next time . . .”

  “Thank you for this information,” she said, tugging the fabric down to cover her buttocks as much as possible. “But, there will be no next time.”

  Eioth stiffened. “I do not understand.”

  “All during the processional you told me that I could not judge as I did not know how matters were between men and women. Now I do.”

  He glared at her back, but spoke calmly. “And what will you do with this knowledge?”

  “Your new demand surprised me. It is beyond anything I could have imagined. I cannot think of love with you. I have still not decided which would be best – cutting off your head or beating you with a stick. Do not imagine you have been forgiven.”

  Eioth positioned himself comfortably on the couch, one arm flung over his head.

  “Oh, I have no misapprehensions. I am certain you will consider long and hard the degree of my punishment. But, know this, Halidan, I will continue to pursue you and court you for as long as there is hope.”

  She resumed the search for her clothing. When she returned decently covered, Eioth was still naked, but he held out to her a thin book wrapped in cloth.

  “There was a reason I came to speak with you,” he said solemnly. “It occurs to me that I never gave you a full explanation of the magic I was trying to do. This book is the only one I have seen on the subject of Sex Magic. Be so kind as to read it and consider it as you contemplate my fate.”

  She made no move to take it. “Do you not fear I might cast it into a fire? That seems to be your chosen solution for books that distress you.”

  Such as your father’s journals, she thought to herself.

  “Hardly. You have too much respect for the rare and unique to do so. And even if you did, I would accept your judgment. You are, after all, the one who was wronged. It would be a fitting punishment, do you not think?”

  “At the moment, I cannot think.”

  “Add this to your deliberations as well.” Unconcerned for his nakedness, he crossed the room and caught her hand. “Before I read this book, before I knew what was required for Sex Magic, I desired you. Appeal to Mitash for verification if you must and he will tell you how I stared at you in the forecourt, how I asked about you at Blue Waters. It was not a case of deciding that I wanted you for the magic. I wanted you and sought only for an excuse. Take this form of magic away forever and still I would desire you.”

  She faced him spine straight, chin high. “To love you? Why should I?”

  “Why does any love? I do not know. The decision is yours. I already know my mind.” He gathered his clothing and dressed quickly. Before he left the room, he halted and grinned at her. “I look forward to hearing your thoughts on the members of the Synod.”

  Halidan considered throwing the book she still held at him, but settled for giving him her back. When he was gone, Halidan wandered the limits of the library, unable to settle to any task. After all that had happened in the last half hour, her thoughts were confused. She should have known better than to ask a question when she did not wish to accept responsibility for the answer.

  Eioth wanted her to love him. More, he wanted her to become – what? His family? His friend? That was an awesome responsibility to place on one person. He had no family and claimed no friendships and yet he wanted Halidan to become all of that for him?

  She shuddered and wrapped her arms about her chest.

  She would drown; she knew she would, if she attempted to become what he desired. She, herself, would cease to exist. All that she was would be turned to the task of being his . . . his . . . whatever. Halidan was aware of no ambition for herself, and yet her spirit rebelled at the thought of so complete an absorption into another.

  Despite the answer she'd received to her questions, and the memory of pleasure still sending ripples through her body, she had no idea what she should do.

  One thing was certain. If she wanted to avoid being absorbed into Eioth, she should flee soon.

  Her thoughts continued chaotic until the servants arrived to collect her luggage. It was the work of moments only to refill her travel cases. Uncaring of the damage, she simply poured everything she owned into them. She handed the cases to the servants and pointed at the parade of still unopened boxes of books.

  “Just take the first ten boxes that come to hand,” she said. “No, wait. Take nine.” She ran to her chamber and pulled the box of Renthi's journals from their hiding place. Tucking the Essay on top, she sealed it closed and handed it to a waiting servant, then retreated to the window. Arms folded into her sleeves, she watched the preparations for the journey as they continued late into the night.

  The next morning, Halidan descended to the courtyard to find Mitash, Cris, and Nittel waiting with three horses. There was an air of little boys with secrets about them that immediately raised Halidan's suspicions. At some signal Halidan did not see, they let down the panoply on the horses. The fabric was brilliant blue and gold and decorated with a sigil Halidan did not immediately recognize.

  “I told you that you were our lucky charm,” announced a grinning Cris and he and Nittel threw back a corner of their cloaks as Mitash stepped forward and held out a sun shield cloak decorated with the same mark.

  “I am happy for you,” said Halidan dryly, “but what does it mean?”

  Cris's grin became dazzling. “We, the personal bodyguards to the Lady Halidan, have new uniforms. These are your new colors and sigil.”

  “My sigil?” Halidan studied the mark again. It was, indeed, her name intertwined with the North West mark.

  “Much better duty than caravan guard,” added Nittel. “Fewer nights sleeping on the ground.”

  “Better pay,” continued Cris.

  “More responsibility,” finished Mitash as he stepped forward to assist Halidan into the sun shield. “I hope you will forgive their lack of experience and accept enthusiasm and loyalty in its place.”

  “Oh, hush, Mitash,” said Halidan, studying the bright colors and the size of the sigil. The way it was placed over the rump of her horse people three demesnes away could read it. The thought set her to blushing. “I had not thought to make so much of a public display.”

  “Permit them to celebrate,” whispered Mitash, his head close to Halidan's.

  “And the sigil?” She ran her fingers over the embroidery on her sun shield. Others had known about this for days, long enough for clever fingers to do the work.

  “North West's Lady,” Cris almost shouted. “Congratulations, tor Halidan.”

  Halidan's fingers clenched as she stood on what was beginning to feel like the edge of a cliff. Even as her stomach spasmed and her body trembled she forced herself to remain outwardly calm. She hadn't expected her reaction to be so visceral. She pressed her hand to her jumping stomach and resisted the impulse to run back into the House. Did she step forward into a world where she was the acknowledged bed partner of an Elven Lord, or did she pretend to herself and others that the relationship did not exist? It was all very well to defeat Tribel and insist House servants treat her with respect, but the world at large? To face gossip, High and Low Court Elves? To have everyone she met look at her sideways and smirk, knowing she slept with the High Lord?

  Besides that, she wasn't certain, considering how angry she was with him, that she wanted to wear this mark.

  It wasn't until this moment that she'd considered how those outside the House walls would view her. The thought of riding through the demesne with his mark on her clothing for everyone to see and to speculate about her was beyond humiliating.

  If she hid from the world, soon enough she would have to acknowledge it was because she thought little of herself, of him. That she was ashamed of her choice to lie with him.

  If she was ashamed, then the choice was the wrong one and she should turn away.

  And what would happen
should she cast aside the role?

  Eioth would be humiliated.

  A mortal woman refusing him? Impossible. How the world would deride him.

  Considering how he had endured the presence of Tribel all those years to avoid public embarrassment, what would he do if Halidan left him? What would he do to compel her to stay? Eioth was a powerful magician and he held control over Halidan's very skin.

  How could Eioth force her to face this issue so publicly without warning? Did he have no sense at all? Worse, there was not even the illusion of a choice for her. He had declared it, and it was done, and all she could do was endure.

  The smiles on her guards’ faces started to fade as she stood there struggling. Cris stepped forward one hand half raised.

  “Tor? Is something wrong? Do not the colors please you?”

  Halidan shook herself out of her daze and forced herself to smile back at them.

  “The colors are beautiful and you all look very well in them. It is merely . . . that I am not accustomed to this much fuss. And where is Morae?”

  “Morae is guarding your Ladies Carriage,” said Mitash.

  “Oh, yes, the Ladies Carriage,” Halidan sighed and shook her head. So much. Too much and none of it anything she had requested or desired. All ostentation and grand display to draw attention to her.

  “He doesn't ride so well,” added Nittel, not noticing her distraction.

  “He has been assigned to travel beside the driver to see that no one harms it,” finished Cris.

  They glanced past Halidan and bowed as Eioth descended the stairs to join them.

  “Bright the day, Halidan,” said Eioth, then nodded to Mitash and the guards. “Do the preparations meet with your approval?”

  “I find myself over supplied with comfort, High Lord,” her voice stiff with suppressed anger.

  Since she was the one looking at his face at that moment, she was the only one who saw the shadow cross it before he smiled politely and inclined his head.

  “It is my honor and responsibility to please you,” was all he said before turning away.

  Halidan shivered at the chill in his voice.

  It appeared he was as angry with her as she was with him. Then she remembered and bit back a groan. She’d forgotten one of the items he had listed the night before. He wanted someone to call him by name! She watched his back as he walked away. Surely, he did not mean in public, or now before matters were settled between them. It was not as if there had been time for her to become accustomed to his latest demand.

  But, she could not mistake the hurt she'd seen. Her own pain in losing her beloved father was never far from her heart. How would it have been never to have the love and acceptance of a parent or a friend to sustain him? Could she imagine the depths of that loneliness?

  Even as Cris assisted her into the saddle and the processional arranged itself, she watched him and told herself not to mistake sympathy for affection and understanding of shared pain for attachment. Eioth proved himself time and again to be selfish and self-centered. Of course he needed someone to love him, all did, but that did not mean that Halidan was the one to supply that need. How could she trust him with her heart while he held her body under his control?

  It took four days for the processional to reach Hub of Harmony. For the most part, the journey was uneventful. Meals were taken with Mitash serving as entertainer and distraction, and his presence at the table prevented any personal conversations. Mitash determinedly ignored any tension between Eioth and Halidan. He was perceptive enough, Halidan was convinced, to know that all was not well between them. Yet, he was very much Eioth's adherent. Should Eioth had made the smallest comment, made the slightest move to indicate that Mitash should leave Halidan alone with him, then Mitash would have been gone in an instant. Therefore, Halidan did not place much confidence in Mitash as a protector. Her bodyguard served at Eioth's command, taking his coin as salary, so they were no help at all, either. The only person Halidan wanted protection from was the most powerful man in any room.

  She even came to distrust the lock on her bedchamber door and ceased to bother using it.

  Each night she went to bed her body was a confusion of aches and wants. People paid so little attention to magic in their lives. One innkeeper thought nothing of lighting candles and lanterns in her presence using his small amount of Fire magic which set her skin to burning. The cook at another inn had the stones of her storehouse enchanted to preserve the food stores so that the cold drink served with her breakfast chilled her skin and made her teeth ache.

  Ordinary wards on homes at the road side were like a wire-brush against her skin. There was not a moment of the day or night that she was not reminded of the spell Eioth had set into her and he had only to glance in her direction, meet her eye, to remind her of the control he had taken over her life.

  With each passing hour, Halidan shrank further into her own thoughts taking what refuge she could in the only place still her own, her mind.

  Damn Eioth, anyway. She could hate him for all that he'd done to her; all the changes he'd brought to her life and yet, each night she curled around herself in her solitary bed, naked. Not so much because he'd asked it of her, but because night clothing no longer felt comfortable. At first she was willing to blame it on yet another change wrought by the spell, but she would be honest with herself. It was more because her body remembered the warmth of his touch. The heat of his kisses. She hated and feared the memory of the first time she'd lain with him and clung to the memory of the second.

  Comfortable. How could she call that act comfortable when it weighed upon her mind each night and robbed her of sleep?

  Damn him. She hated what he'd done to her and sympathized with his loneliness.

  She was a fool.

  And she was in love.

  Not for a moment did she think he demanded love from her because he had love for her. There was no stronger cage or more restrictive bond than love and no pain greater than love unrequited. He held her heart captive and with each passing day she struggled less against his command. And the tears she shed alone in the dark were, in part, grief for the passing of her pride.

  During the day, Halidan rode beside Mitash, immediately behind Eioth in the order of march. As they traveled the last few lei of the North West toward the imperial city, Nittel traveled at Halidan's left side putting his body between hers and those who stood beside the road watching the High Lord's party pass. Cris rode before her. Every now and again, Cris would adjust his cloak so that it could freely display Halidan's sigil. His head was high and he looked about with a superior air.

  “I've seen brides less proud of their finery,” muttered Nittel.

  Halidan laughed for the first time in several days. Her face ached at the unfamiliar exercise. “Give him peace, Nittel. He has more pride in my place than I do.”

  “We're all as proud of you as if we were your little brothers,” said Nittel. “If you don't mind, that is.”

  “Not at all. How many sisters have three brothers?” She shook her head remembering the fright her guards had given a chambermaid the day before when they'd searched her bedchamber with swords drawn before permitting her to enter. “Very protective brothers.”

  Mitash appeared at her right side.

  “Halidan. The High Lord wishes you to advance and ride beside him. We have almost reached the Hub.”

  Up ahead, Halidan could see the graceful high arch of the bridge joining the North West to the capital city. She nudged her horse to a faster pace. Eioth glanced back and gestured for her to come to his right side. When she caught his eye, she saw he was grinning. He arched his eyebrows at her and glanced to the bridge and back. Immediately, Halidan felt heated blood rushing to her face. Of course, she knew now what amused him. The only other time she'd seen this bridge was in Eioth's Ritual chamber where she'd been naked, mounted, and gasping. The image had the power to arouse her despite their public location. She scowled at him for bringing that memory to the f
oreground and glanced away trying to recover her composure.

  To the side of the road she saw well-dressed Elves in elaborately decorated riding costumes being held out of the way by guards in Eioth's livery.

  Before they could catch her staring at them Halidan turned her attention elsewhere, but her curiosity would not permit her to remain silent.

  “Who are they?” she whispered to Mitash who now rode at Eioth's other side.

  “Presumptive sycophants,” said Mitash dismissively. “I thought we'd steal the march from them by going into the Hub ahead of schedule, but they must have had their spies watching the road.”

  “Spies?” repeated Halidan.

  Eioth laughed at her tone.

  “Do not permit Mitash to mislead you. They are merchants and Masters of Elements or minor Lords of the North West. They are traveling to the Hub to place petitions before the Synod or to socialize.”

  “And they wish to increase their importance by traveling in the High Lord's train,” added Mitash. “Little would please them more than to cross the bridge at his side.”

  “Well, they are fated to be disappointed,” murmured Eioth. “There is one with a greater claim to that place.”

  Halidan glanced about looking for that one, then saw that Eioth and Mitash both were staring at her and trying to hold back laughter. She then noticed the intent looks she was receiving from those waiting at the side of the road and saw the pointing fingers and whispers being exchanged. She tightened her grip on the reigns and turned her gaze resolutely forward.

  “Halidan?” Eioth leaned across and rested his hand on hers. “What troubles your peace?”

  “I wonder if I might retire to the Ladies Carriage?” asked Halidan.

  “I would prefer you at my side, Halidan. Why? Are you fatigued? It is not an hour more before we reach our destination.”

  “I am not tired,” replied Halidan. “There are too many people watching us.”

  She glanced toward the watching crowd. By this time the roadside was thick with observers. Farmers and merchants. Mortals and Elves all pushed to one side to permit the High Lord an unobstructed passage into the city. The curious were pouring out of shops and homes to watch the parade.