The Use

by D. L. Carter

Federan was less excited by the prospect.

  “If only the begetting of children were as easy,” muttered Federan dryly. “We can only hope I have my father's fertility and not my mother’s. Three marriages and I am her only child.”

  With a bow to Eioth, he led his suddenly solemn grandmother away with the other lords trailing in their wake.

  “Truly?” asked Halidan when they were far enough away. “No other children? Not even with the mortal?”

  Eioth waited until they were all ahorseback and in motion before replying. “It is true. The mortal was dismissed from Senoia's employ before they knew Ayania was pregnant and no one knows where he went. Ayania married three times thereafter and stayed with the last one. The last marriage was of her choosing. She is bonded to the Element of Fire and works with her husband, a Master of Earth magic, purifying metals in the iron mines. She chose not to be active in politics because her son was counted unworthy of being heir. Once she hears today’s news, we may see her again in Hub of Harmony.”

  “I am certain she will wish to join the celebration,” said Halidan and they rode in silence through the city's busy streets.

  A mortal woman, her flock of children trailing along behind her like happy ducklings, paused to permit their procession to pass. A Low Court Elven woman, baby in arms, chatted to a baker. A High Court lady walked alone down the street and turned her head away from these visions of fertility. Halidan frowned as an idea tickled the edge of her mind. She glanced back and forth between Eioth and Mitash wondering if the thought forming could possibly be true.

  “Mitash, have you brothers or sisters?”

  Mitash shifted in his saddle to stare at her. “No. I am my parents’ only child.”

  “And do they have magic?”

  “Well, yes. I inherited my bond to Earth from both of them.”

  Halidan nodded absently. Her attention caught, she studied those walking the streets, their faces, their families. The children.

  “High Lord,” she said slowly. “Federan's father was definitely mortal?”

  Eioth turned in his saddle. “What troubles you, Halidan? Did you not bring the law to my attention yourself? You know it applies equally to mortal and Elf. The statement was quite clear. True Legitimacy, according to High King Yinto, comes through the mother.”

  “I am more concerned with the many comments High King Yinto made regarding foreknowledge and planning.”

  Eioth stared at her. Troubled by her distracted air and frown, Eioth nudged his horse to a faster pace.

  “Hold your thought, Halidan until we are within the wards.”

  “Do not worry, High Lord. I will not forget what is in my mind.”

  Arriving at Eioth's House, they left the horses to the care of the guards and hurried through, dismissing the servants who arrived to offer refreshments. Eioth led them into the first private room they came to and he himself closed the door and warded it.

  “Halidan, what troubles your peace?” he demanded.

  She didn't respond immediately, but walked about the room trying to see the full shape of the idea. Mitash and Eioth exchanged worried looks and moved to intercept her.

  “Are you injured, Halidan?” asked Mitash. “Did someone offer offense when I was not paying attention?”

  “No. I have an idea, a simple idea. Too simple. I am certain I am wrong, but I might not be.” She turned to face the men. “The fall off of High Court fertility began at the same time as the Water plague. Generally, people think that there was some damage to the survivors.”

  “Generally,” agreed Eioth.

  “But, it doesn't seem to have affected anyone else beyond those of the High Court. The magic users. Mortals have children without difficulties. Low Court families still have their two or three young. It is only the High Court who suffer and they suffer unequally. A woman may have a child for one man and none for another. There seems to be no reason, no consistency for this.”

  The men exchanged a glance, again.

  “Yes. This is known.” they agreed.

  “But, now you tell me that a mortal man fathered a child with an Elven woman.” She raised her eyes to Eioth. “A mortal man who has no magic, never could practice magic, fathered a child with an Elven woman.”

  “Magic?” whispered Eioth. “You think this is to do with the practice of magic?”

  “Well, consider the facts. Mortals have no magic and no trouble at all with bearing young. Low Court rarely have magic, although if they do have some, they use it all the time as a matter of pride. If we were to examine those individuals we might find that those with some magic are the ones who have fertility difficulties amongst the Low Court.”

  “And High Court families use magic daily,” said Mitash. “Or close enough to it because they have more. It is their employment. Their rank and responsibility!”

  “Exactly,” said Halidan.

  “But, we have used magic for centuries and this problem came upon us recently.” Eioth shook his head. “This cannot be so.”

  “In the Adventures, Norfarland and his friend go on the Bachelor’s Moon retreat,” said Halidan her words coming faster, “where they are lectured by a Water priest upon the responsibilities of the bride’s family to care for the groom lest he be a disappointment to his wife. The men of the bride's family are expected to do everything for the groom. Everything! Fetch him food, entertain him. . . .light his candles, warm his bathwater! Perform all his magic.”

  “Halidan, where do you go with this . . .” began Eioth.

  “I have more,” said Halidan. “There are your father's journals.”

  “What do you speak of?”

  “Journals. Tribel had them in his chamber. Books your father wrote in which he records . . .”

  “I do not wish to hear of them,” snarled Eioth, turning away. “And I recall that I ordered you to destroy his writings!”

  “I disobeyed you,” said Halidan, and added to Mitash's complete shock. “Aren't you pleased with me?”

  That wrung a reluctant laugh from Eioth. “Not particularly.”

  “Oh, be reasonable,” sighed Halidan, catching his arm and pulling him around to face her. “You are the one who buys whole libraries in search of just one more fact. You cannot reject knowledge simply because it was inscribed by your father's hand. Listen to me, please. In the book of Rules, several times your father commanded Tribel to see to it by any means necessary that you used magic every day of your life. Every day. Even if he must put poison in your food and contaminate your clothing is the instruction. Even if he must attack you and threaten your life. And Tribel did so even though the command made no sense. You know he did. In self-defense you used magic every day to protect yourself and after three marriages you have no children.”

  “I do not wish to be reminded of this.”

  “Did your father go with you to your Bachelor’s Moon?” demanded Halidan.

  Eioth paused and stared at her as if until this moment it had not occurred to him that his father should have. “No.”

  “He went to Justovan’s. Did you know that?” Eioth's expression darkened, but he continued to listen. “Justovan, the one that your father referred to as his and your Heir! In his journal, he said the Water priest who attended Justovan's Bachelor’s Moon was no use at all, but he, your father, gave advice to Justovan. Within two months of the wedding Justovan's wife was declared pregnant. Now Justovan has two children by two different wives!”

  “Did he say magic was the problem?” demanded Mitash, coming to her side.

  “No. He never actually says it. But, it is interesting that Renthi arranged matters so that Justovan did not have to seek any employment and did not encourage him to seek any training for his magical abilities beyond journeyman. It seems to me odd that his father would so emphasize daily use of magic in Eioth, whom he despised, and require nothing from Justovan, whom he favors. You cannot tell me there ever was a time in your life when you were reluctant to use your gifts, and yet, your father fe
lt it necessary to risk your life to compel you to study and work!”

  “No,” said Eioth slowly. “And I do recall during my first marriage Tribel being taken to account when a day passed and he could not prove I had cast a spell. For the next few weeks, it was necessary for me to be on guard every moment else I would have been dead.”

  “I have only been in your service for the last two marriages, High Lord,” said Mitash, “and have not been married myself. Did the Water priest take you aside for private conversation during the Bachelor’s Moon? What did he speak of?”

  “He did, but he said very little. Considering the social importance and expense placed on the presence of a Water priest at that Ritual I should have expected more.” Eioth folded his hands into his sleeves and began pacing. “You are correct. My father did not come to my Bachelor's Moon. Moreover, I was wed into families who are my political enemies. Therefore, I did not trust them to provide the service that brothers-in-law are traditionally expected to perform. I justly suspected them of trying to use magic to gain influence over me and so used magic daily during the moon to protect myself.”

  “The Water plague depopulated the Temples,” added Mitash eagerly. “Is that not the history? Almost all the priests and healers gone in a single month? If there were some secret they were supposed to hand down at the Bachelor's Moon, they had no time, no warning to write it down or pass it on to anyone outside the order.”

  “Even if they did,” said Halidan, her voice rising, “so many died that the recipient of the secret might also have died.”

  “Let me be clear in my understanding,” said Eioth, raising his hand. “Your theory is that the practice of magic prevents conception.”

  “Magical use by the male,” said Mitash. “Since Federan's father is mortal and has no magic and his mother has magic, and does use it.”

  “Abstinence from magic for the duration of a full moon,” said Halidan, “since traditionally that is the period the male spends in isolation with his friends, must be what is required to renew fertility.”

  “Lest he be a disappointment to his wife,” finished Eioth.

  They stared at each other, breathless.

  “Could it be so simple?” asked Mitash. “Truly?”

  “It would be easy enough to test the matter,” said Eioth, flicking a glance toward Halidan which put her to the blush.

  Mitash did not miss the undercurrents nor misunderstand. “You could not attempt it for the next short while, High Lord. We have finished midsummer Rituals, but there are the preparations for the weather spells and fertility spells for first harvest, then second and third harvest. Then the preparations for the winter and the High Holy Days and any emergency that might arise. Not to mention that you are in Hub of Harmony and not all here are your friends. Your magical obligations for the rest of the year does not leave a time when you have the length of a full moon with no Ritual.”

  “I am aware of the danger.” Eioth nodded his understanding. “However, this might be the best time to try. I have done no magic for the last three weeks.”

  “No magic? For three weeks?” Mitash was astonished.

  Halidan turned her attention to the floor and Eioth to his hands and neither answered for a space of time.

  “I did a spell, with Halidan,” Eioth waited until she lifted her face to his and he could smile down at her. “It offended her skin and sensitized her to the summoning of magical energies. I could not so much as begin to gather power in her presence without causing her pain. As a consequence, I have done no magic since that night. The last spell I cast prior to that was at the Mid Summer Ritual where I was the assistant only.”

  No magic, even when she was avoiding his bed? He had forsworn magic lest he come near her and hurt her? She hadn't realized he'd made that sacrifice for her. Fortunately, Mitash did not ask about which Ritual had harmed her or how.

  “Then you need wait only a week longer to be fertile, if Halidan's theory is correct.” Mitash smiled at Halidan and bowed.

  This time Halidan's face was so red she feared her skin would burn off. Eioth merely nodded.

  “Less than a week,” said Eioth. “From my calculations I have no demesne obligations until the end of the Synod. To be safe, and give her theory adequate time to be tested, I shall continue to refrain from magic until the Harvest rituals begin or Halidan is declared pregnant.”

  Halidan drew breath to protest, then stopped unable to think of the appropriate words to express her shock.

  “And then,” said Mitash, “by your kindness, will you stand my friend, High Lord?”

  Eoith raised an eyebrow in Mitash's direction.

  “I do have a young lady friend with whom I would be willing to experiment were I able to abstain from magic for a moon,” Mitash grinned. “In the interest of saving the High Court families! I do know my responsibilities. I am the only child of my parents. Of my grandparents! I am prepared to labor so that my family will not be lost.”

  “He grows sillier and it grows late. We should feed him,” said Halidan, embarrassed by the turn the conversation had taken. “Else he will not survive long enough to breed.”

  “I would be honored,” began Mitash, then he caught Eioth's eye and the gesture he made. “But, I have . . . to go.”

  Halidan followed him to the door and waited until Eioth and Mitash had exchanged brief farewells. The door had barely closed behind him when Eioth caught Halidan about the waist and swung her into his arms.

  “I may be wrong,” she protested, turning her face away as his hands began to wander over her hips gathering up her skirts and his mouth sought hers.

  “At this moment, I care not. We are alone and it has been far too many hours since last I held you. Come, now.”

  Halidan levered both arms between their bodies and pushed away.

  “Perhaps, Eioth. High Lord. Wait. Perhaps, if this is so, that you might soon be fertile, you might need to find an Elven woman.”

  Before she'd finished the sentence Eioth returned her feet to the floor and withdrew to stand holding her at arm’s length. Silence stretched between them and she felt tears burning behind her eyes.

  “Who am I to you?” Eioth demanded. “Tell me, for I believe you have forgotten!”

  Halidan pressed her hands to her belly and drew a long breath before answering.

  “My lover, which is no more or less than the truth, but if it is possible for you to father a child, it should be with an Elven woman. Your legal wife!”

  With a muttered curse Eioth pulled her into his arms.

  “If I may father a child it will be on your body, and no other.”

  “Another duty to lay upon me?” demanded Halidan. “You presume a great deal! Who told you I would permit you to so use me?”

  “Halidan, please.” Eioth groaned and tightened his grip. “What is your protest? Do you not wish for children? Did we not deal with the issue of legitimacy today? Has not Senoia of the South declared a half blood her heir! How can I do any less?”

  Halidan rested her hands on his chest. “Would you be content? If my theory is correct there is a possibility you might father a full blood child. Have an alliance marriage.”

  “I will not bind myself to an alliance marriage, again,” growled Eioth. “I suffered through three.”

  “But, what of magic? I am mortal and your child will have responsibilities. Will he not need the same strong bonds to the Elements that you have, else he will not be permitted to inherit your responsibilities?”

  “Taking Federan as a guide, I would be content if my child had half as much power as he. And Justovan, full blood that he is, has barely enough Air magic to create a breeze on a windy day.” His mouth claimed hers, warming her skin, heating her blood, setting her heart racing. “It is my desire to father a child upon you and no other.”

  He returned to the matter of kissing her. Arousing her. As his tongue invaded her mouth and his hands pulled her hard against his erection, her skin leapt to flame and she moane
d against his lips. When he drew back Halidan leaned against him, legs too weak to support herself.

  “Is this magic?” she asked.

  “This is only my hands, dear Halidan. Only touch. Skin on skin.” He smiled against her hair. “Come to my bed. In the interest of experimentation, we should test your theory. “He began walking her backwards toward the stairs. “Early. Often. Now.”

  With a laugh he lifted her off her feet, swung her into his arms and carried her through the House to his room.

  A thundering knocking on the door of Eioth's bedchamber woke them both the next morning long before the sun was over the horizon. Halidan was out from under the blankets and into the bathing room to hide before Eioth wrapped the blankets about his naked body and rose to seek out the cause of the disruption. For the first time in his memory, he did not automatically summon power to hold ready in case a defensive spell was required. He would have to trust his Household staff and guards to protect him; else, he would need to find another moon's worth of time in which to abstain from magic. Training and years of suspicion nagged at him to summon a spell and he refrained only by act of will. It wasn't easy, but he managed it.

  Outside the door two of his guards waited, with three Elven males between them.

  Before the others could speak, one wearing the Sigil of the Synod stepped forward and bowed.

  “High Lord, my apologies for the early hour, but there is an emergency meeting of the Synod called. Can you be in the hall within the hour?”

  “I shall be there.”

  The herald bowed and departed.

  Eioth turned his attention to the next Elf who wore the livery of Chandri.

  “Why are you here?”

  The Elf bowed.

  “High Lord Chandri has sent messengers to all the Synod. At some hour last night, criminals kidnapped Lord Chandri's daughters. He begs the aid of all the Synod in the apprehension of the criminals and the return of his children.”

  Halidan poked her head around the door.

  “His children?”

  Eioth waved her back out of sight.

  “Inform Chandri I have received his message. I assume this emergency meeting involves addressing this crime?”