The Use

by D. L. Carter

  A few lines later Renthi observed.

  Dionit acted as I advised. I have since been informed all the mortal servants are gone and the girl child has departed. The products of mixed bloodlines are weak, it is better so.

  Such cruelty, thought Halidan. A child died and that was all the epitaph he could give? Given that many High Court families did not have a single child those words were not only prejudiced, but foolish in the extreme. Children should not be punished for things they were not responsible for and could not change!

  It was odd that the old Lord recorded Eioth's and Justovan's progress through life with equal frequency. Eioth showed promise in bonding with all the Elements. Justovan, a weak bond with only Air. Eioth achieved Mastership and was expected to rise to Adept. Justovan, only Journeyman status, and that after Renthi gave a significant donation to the Masters conducting the tests.

  Halidan paused and frowned trying to remember something she'd read. With a shake of her head she dismissed it. Whatever it was she would remember later.

  Eventually, Renthi recorded that his search had located a woman worthy of being Justovan's bride. It was interesting that Renthi took so much interest in Justovan's future bride and yet nothing was written about Eioth's. But, in the next book she found just that comment.

  Despite being younger, Justovan was wed first.

  I have just returned from attending Justovan's Bachelor’s Moon. The Water priest was useless, but I gave Justovan the necessary advice. Only time will tell if my assumptions are correct.

  A few pages later, in bold, excited script was recorded the news that Justovan's bride was pregnant. Halidan read the page twice. A pregnancy within two months of the wedding – astonishing! To occur so soon after the wedding, there must have been some muttering about anticipation of the ceremony, but that didn't seem to bother Lord Renthi or anyone else considering the lack of fertility in other families.

  His next comment regarding Eioth was only:

  Eioth is to do magic every day of his life. I have so instructed Tribel to see to it even when I am absent. Even if it is necessary to attack him and force him to defend his life, Eioth must do magic every day.

  Considering what Eioth had told her about his studiousness, rediscovering an old recipe book at age ten and his commitment to seeking knowledge, it seemed odd that his father would demand such an extreme method to keep Eioth involved in his studies.

  The only entries about Eioth's marriages were,

  Eioth divorced each wife after three years with no offspring.

  The next for Justovan recorded,

  Justovan's wife miscarried their second child. I have advised him to divorce and wed another. If we must go to all this labor to engender a child, the woman must fulfill her responsibility and carry the thing.

  She did find several references to Justovan being granted money and other gifts, and frowned. It was as if Lord Renthi counted Eioth as dead, or simply a placeholder that must be endured until the true heir came into his inheritance. How could he do such a thing? The two Elves could not be compared. Eioth was the greater magician, the stronger leader. As far as she could tell from her reading, Justovan had done nothing with his life but wait for his eventual elevation! And how could Lord Renthi imagine that Justovan could complete the duties of High Lord with just a weak bond to Air? Impossible.

  A search of the remaining journals turned up nothing of use. Halidan packed them away and tucked the box back into its hiding place.

  All that she'd read nagged at her as she returned to the library. Locating an empty workbook, she pulled out her pen and wrote out the questions bubbling in her mind trying to properly shape and understand them:

  Why was Lord Renthi so convinced that Eioth's blood was contaminated? His complexion isn't that pink!

  Why was the Water priest useless?

  What advice did Lord Renthi give Justovan?

  Why did Lord Renthi speak so dismissively of the wife who lost her baby and refer to the labor of engendering a child?

  She frowned at the page, again. One question refused to form. Something she'd read refused to solidify in her memory. She closed her eyes and tried to sort through all the books she'd read recently. So many and so varied in their contents she could barely keep them straight in her mind. Perhaps glancing through her notes would remind her. It was a shame some of the books she'd read were back at the principle House, all covered with enough ribbon place markers to satisfy any girl at the Solstice fair.

  Girl! That was it. The girl child Renthi counted as contaminated was declared illegitimate before she died! A bastard.

  Halidan hurried to her room and pulled out her copy of The Adventures. It did not take her long to find the quote.

  “. . . Norfarland the bastard? Come sir, that is hardly the way to speak of yourself. Did not old High King Olifeink declare that all children are legitimate since so much hard work must go into the getting of them?”

  Hard work? Why would anyone refer to the engendering of children as work? Granted one would breathe hard. Also granted one would become hot and sweaty and . . . she flushed as she remembered the last time Eioth had his hands on her breasts. Yes, indeed, one could labor mightily while engaged in such behavior that would result, possibly, occasionally, with hope, in children. But, work? One would hardly compare it with cutting stone for houses or digging fields for planting.

  Lord Renthi, himself, had referred to the hard work involved in engendering children.

  Work? All right, possibly. But, why hard work?

  She had been meaning to find out who High King Oily Hair was just so she could provide that piece of trivia to Eioth and prove that she could excel as the librarian he'd originally employed. Now she wanted to know for herself what, if anything, the High King had said about bastards.

  Her copy of The Adventures in hand she hurried to the House library. She'd walked past it a time or two, promising herself that someday she'd take the time to explore its depths. It seemed the day had come.

  This library contained a few of the more decorative covers that she'd insulted the first time she'd spoken to Eioth. The remaining books and filos filling the shelves were of the same height, depth, and breadth. For a moment she did not understand. She'd never seen a library with a parade of books with the same outward appearance. When she lifted one down from the shelf and examined the provenance page she found that one of Eioth's ancestors had decreed, in a moment of insanity in Halidan’s opinion, that books in his library be rebound in a particular manner so that the bookshelves would appear neat.

  Neat?

  Halidan's lip curled at that. She preferred bookshelves, like life, to be untidy. However, not yet being born when the books had been recovered, her opinion had not been sought. For now, it meant she would have to work harder to find the books she needed.

  The first one she sought was a history so she might find a list of the most recent High Kings and their families. Considering that Norfarland had referred to him as the old High King there was a possibility that the King was deceased when the book had been written. Even setting her limit at a thousand years meant she needed to review only fourteen High Kings. For once, the long lives of Elves were a blessing. She started searching at the bookcase nearest the door and worked her way methodically around the room.

  A genealogy of Eioth's family was quickly found and beside it a recently updated history of the High Kings. The author had even thought to include illustrations of the kings. Halidan carried both books to a nearby table and started reading. Within an hour she narrowed her search to three kings. One’s rule had ended before the Norfarland series was started. The second had died between the publication of book seven and eight and the third, had been in office when the book Halidan owned was printed.

  Once she'd chosen the High Kings on whom she would concentrate, Halidan went in search of High King Oily Hair's law. Since Eioth's family was so closely affiliated with the royal line it was only necessary to go back five High Kings to find
a direct ancestor of Eioth's, and when not ruling, the family had a presence in the Synod. There was a full wall of books recording the laws of the Empire.

  When Eioth returned he inquired of the servants as to Halidan’s location. He was not at all surprised to be told she was in the library. At first when he arrived in the huge chamber he couldn't see her perched as she was in the shadows near the ceiling at the top of the narrow ladder. In her dust-covered clothing, she was almost the same color as the books around her. She looked up, startled, when he called her name.

  “Oh, High Lord, you are home. Good. You might know the answer to my questions. Do you know how one finds out if an old law has been overturned?”

  Ignoring the question, Eioth walked further into the room, his hands clenching at his sides as the old frustration rose in his chest.

  “What must I do to persuade you to call me Eioth?” he demanded in a voice that echoed from wall to ceiling.

  Halidan lowered the book she was examining and stared at him.

  “My Lord?”

  “That is it, exactly,” growled Eioth. “You are my Lady. We have been intimate and if the Elements are kind, we shall be, again. What does it take for you to accept that? When are you going to address me by my name?”

  “I . . . I cannot,” she said after a pause. “Not even Mitash does so and he has known you longer.”

  Eioth took hold of the side of the ladder and gazed up at her. “There is no comparison between the two of you. It is not the time, but the feeling. How can you still doubt me? Halidan, I love you.”

  Halidan began to tremble, but she said nothing.

  “Please tell me,” Eioth climbed the ladder until he could rest his hand on her ankle. “Who am I to you?”

  Halidan knew that there was only one right answer to this question. She could say, you are the High Lord of the North West, and shatter their relationship forever. She could say, my Lord, and never be able to say anything else.

  He was right. The barrier of formality that she'd clung to could not remain unless she wanted forever to be the servant he slept with. Her pride would always complain. Eventually, she would leave his employ and home to salvage the remains of her self-regard.

  He was offering her a chance to be more, to have more than just the promise of a grace and favor home . . . to have a future beyond Sex Magic participant and librarian.

  All that was required was for her to have the courage to accept the emotions he offered. To give him the truth she realized within herself. To accept and return his love.

  All this raced through her mind in the few seconds it took her to wake from frozen shock and begin to descend the ladder. He descended with her, staying close as she climbed down so that she was caught between the rigid barrier of the ladder and the strength of his body.

  Once on the floor, she turned, still with the ladder at her back, and found she was unable to take her eyes from his. Placing her hands on his chest she forced her lips to form the words.

  “You are my love, Eioth.”

  Eioth took her face between both hands and kissed her. He did not wait for her yielding, but thrust his tongue past the barrier of her lips to tangle with hers, his fingers tunneling into her hair. Halidan's fingers fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as lips danced with lips, and hunger flared to life between them.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Love is a distraction to the trained mind.

  The Use and Complexity of Sex Magic

  “Love is to be sought whenever possible. Should be cherished. Should be nurtured and valued and desired. What else is life for, but the giving and receiving of love?”

  The Adventures of Norfarland the Bastard ~ Book 23

  Eioth lifted her off her feet, trapping her between the length of his body and the ladder, utterly helpless. His hands roamed over her body, setting her skin to flame and her blood running hot and demanding. Her body arched against his, relishing the sensation of his arousal pressed so intimately against her. There was no patience, no gentleness in his touch, only demand, hunger. His hands swept over her hair as his mouth sank into hers, grinding his aching shaft against her. She matched him, raising her hips to press against his arousal, even as her body arched and throbbed with need. She moaned against his lips as he seized fistfuls of fabric, dragging her skirts up, even as she struggled to free him from his clothing. He pulled her blouse open to free and feast upon her breasts, drawing her hard nipple into his mouth to worry and suckle. With a soft moan he drew back, one hand still covering and stroking the quivering skin of her bare breast. The gaze that roved over her exposed body was hard, possessive.

  “You know you are mine,” he murmured and felt a flash of pride when her only response was a nod.

  Her eyes were heavily lidded and glazed with passion. Her breathing ragged and gasping as he rolled her nipple between finger and thumb. He parted her thighs and stood gazing down at her, his eyes dark with need. Panting, she looked up at him as he looked down at her, trapped, wide-spread and waiting for him.

  “Watch me,” he whispered. “Watch as I join us. Know that it is for all time.”

  He arched forward, his erection breeching her folds, entering her with exquisite slowness. Advancing and withdrawing in small increments, forcing her to experience each fraction of his full possession. She cried out his name, straining to thrust, to fill herself, but he held her off, determined she should experience some moment of frustration in repayment for his weeks of suffering. But, a moment only was all he could endure. His clenched fingers dug into her rounded bottom as he raised her higher and claimed her.

  His hips moved to some beat only he could hear and all she could do was receive him. She clawed at his shoulders, pressing fevered kisses against whichever part of him was near while he drove them both to helpless passion. Pleasure, when it came, tore through them, shattering them both to fragments and in the aftermath, reformed them as one being.

  She rested her face in the curve of his neck, arms and legs tight around his body, and made no attempt to free herself from his embrace. With one hand pressed against the ladder, Eioth supported them both.

  “For your information,” he whispered, “this is the posture for settling aftershocks of an earthquake.”

  “I fear it did not work, Hig . . .” her lips curved and she kissed his ear, still being crushed against the ladder that was the only part of him she could easily reach. “Eioth, my love, I can still feel the world trembling.”

  His body shook with his laughter and he drew back to smile at her.

  “Dear Halidan, I may never walk on firm ground, again.” He kissed her and supported her weight as they uncoupled slowly.

  Once their clothing was straightened and settled he placed one finger under her chin and raised her face to his.

  “My Lady,” he murmured. “Mine.”

  She kissed him and clung, heart to pounding heart, and closed her eyes to pray the kind Elements would never let her live long enough to see him turn away from her. When she drew back she had sufficient control over her features so that her smile was sincere and broad. Before she could speak, Eioth ran a calming hand over her head, tugging at the short strands of hair.

  “I am proud to claim you as my Lady. Can you say the same for me?”

  Halidan discarded her first two replies as too formal and settled on. “How shall I present you? My lover seems to be boasting.”

  “I am glad you think so.” He laughed and hugged her. “To everyone else I am High Lord Eioth. To you, and lifelong I swear it, I am your love. May I hope that you have forgiven me enough that you will join me in my bed tonight? I have no wish to sleep alone.”

  “No more do I.”

  As her feet settled on the ground, they both became aware of the book that had fallen from her hands. Eioth bent to retrieve it.

  “Truly, Halidan, if I cannot trust you to treat my belongings with respect . . .” he said, grinning as he turned it over and examined the title. The smile faded, all teasing forgot
ten. “A book of law? What prompted you to look at this?”

  “Oh, you are a distraction. I completely forgot what I was reading when you spoke to me.”

  “What a compliment,” said Eioth and set her laughing.

  “I have discovered which High King was oily hair,” said Halidan proudly. “Thus, I complete the first assignment you set me. He was the late and much respected Yinto, the High King who died a few years prior to the publication of the first Norfarland book.”

  “Congratulations. How are you certain?”

  “By matching a declared statement of his to a comment by Norfarland.” She took the book and opened it to a slightly bruised page, tut-tutting at the damage. “Here. It is recorded that while the Synod of year 4327 was in progress High Lord Yinto declared:

  Let it be known that since so much foreknowledge, planning, effort, determination, honor and commitment of time and labor is required for the engendering of a child, there is no such thing as an illegitimate child. Further, when one has Rites, Rituals, and responsibilities to grant, one is obligated to engender children whether within a marriage or not. Likewise, one should have no more children than one has responsibilities to fulfill. All this is in one's mind when the decision is made to mate and bear young. Because of this, all children must be regarded as the desired result of mating. Because so much labor is involved, all children are, therefore, no matter who engenders them, legitimate. All that is required is the acknowledgement of the mother, since all children are legitimately the offspring of their mothers. The name of the father is relevant only if he chooses to make it so, for the purpose of bestowing property upon an heir.”

  She pointed to the page. “You see, that is why Norfarland is considered a true bastard. He doesn't know his mother's name. I think this law was in the mind of the author when he created the story of Norfarland the Bastard. He is the last true bastard of the land, at least according to High King Yinto's intention. My question to you is why is this law not in force? Was it overturned?”