The Use

by D. L. Carter

  “Much though I might enjoy a long conversation with you, High Lord, as your reputation for learning precedes you, your Lady Halidan has requested my urgent assistance. If I might be permitted to go apart privately with her, then . . .”

  “I am aware of the reason Halidan gave when she sent for you,” said Eioth. “It was my suggestion that you should be consulted. I preferred to take counsel with a healer from my own demesne on such an important matter.”

  “My loyalty is to my order, High Lord,” said Lenneth calmly. “But, if it is a concern of yours, I am not a gossip. You may speak freely to me.”

  “Certainly. Mitash, if you would set privacy wards on this room.” Eioth waited until Mitash signaled he was done. “Healer Lenneth, I give credit to Halidan for this, she did the reading and the research and presented her working to me as a theory to explain the sudden fall off in High Court fertility after the Water Plague.”

  Lenneth said nothing while Eioth outlined Halidan's thinking, leaving out where she had gathered some of her information having no wish to mention the existence of his father's journals, and her theory of magical impact upon fertility.

  “I asked you here,” finished Eioth, “to inquire if you had anything to add. Can you validate or refute the theory? As a Water priest you should know, what is the purpose of your attendance at the Bachelor's Moon?”

  Lenneth appeared stunned by the question and his mouth worked soundlessly for a few moments.

  “Could it be? Could it be our fault, our responsibility? Oh, Elements prevent that it is!”

  “Calm yourself, Lenneth,” said Eioth. “No accusation is being made.”

  “But, you do not know, do not realize, High Lord, how it stands in the temple. The competition for participation in the Bachelor’s Moon, for the fees, to participate in the debauchery, is considerable. Even now, assuming your good Lady is correct, we do not know why the moon is necessary. Water priests have been known to come to blows over whose turn it is to join a retreat.”

  “Is it so bad?”

  “You can have no understanding. Those who seek the fees from wealthy families have been known to, please understand, I do not wish this to be rumored about, but they have misused their abilities to cause illness in their brothers-in-Water so they might not be able to attend a moon.”

  Mitash snorted. “So they are like everyone else. I was beginning to wonder.”

  Eioth shot him a quelling glance.

  “Please, Lenneth, put aside your distress. Consider what I tell you. Do you think Halidan’s theory has merit?”

  “Actually, I have always thought it was one of those activities whose origins are lost in the mists of time,” said Lenneth. “I have never heard it suggested, at the Temple or elsewhere, that the Water priest is supposed to advise against magic usage during the moon.”

  “Oh,” said Halidan disappointed, glancing toward Eioth, then away. “It seemed such a reasonable idea.”

  “I do not refute your idea, tor Halidan; I only answer the High Lord's question. I have heard and read nothing of that sort in our Temple records. However,” Lenneth turned intent and intelligent eyes toward Eioth, “that is not to say that your theory is not without merit and should not be tested.”

  “That was my opinion, also,” said Eioth.

  Lenneth folded his arms into his sleeves and settled back in his chair. “The Bachelor's Moon is a relatively recent tradition. No more than two thousand years, if memory serves, and originally only a practice of the High Court. This, I think, adds rather than detracts from the theory. Of late it has become the habit of Low Court and even wealthy mortal families to imitate High Court and send their sons into seclusion for a moon,” he said. “Since no one realized the true reason, it has become for some a time of lechery and excess.”

  “Then you think it possible Halidan's theory is correct. That the moon is meant to restore fertility to a magical practitioner?” asked Mitash.

  Lenneth ignored the question and continued his musings.

  “I also find it interesting that no one has placed any such limit on the behavior of brides. In the month prior to the wedding, the young lady goes about in public and is encouraged to be social, choose her House furnishings, initiate the marital contract obligations, accept gifts on behalf of the soon-to-be-wed, and cast the Hearth Fire spell should she have that gift.”

  “She can do magic without affecting her fertility?” asked Mitash.

  “It has never been suggested that women should not, but I have never read any limit upon young men, either.”

  “But, after the massive number of deaths with the Water Plague . . .” began Eioth.

  “We of the order of Water prefer to refer to it simply as the plague. Water was not the cause of the illness, only the description of those who suffered greatly by it.”

  “My apologies. But, even if it were commonly known within the Water priesthood that refraining from magic was the instruction passed on to the young men during the Bachelor's Moon, with the suddenness of the illness and the number of deaths, all who had that knowledge could have died before the danger was understood.”

  “There I find myself in agreement with you.” Lenneth thought for a moment. “And the groom would have been advised not to pass this knowledge along. An obligation, a threat would have been used to compel holding the secret.”

  “Then we could have the reason,” muttered Eioth. “The cause of all these years of suffering within the High Court families is a revenue generating secret of the Water Temples that the Water Temple forgot.”

  Lenneth gave a sad nod.

  “If my theory is correct,” added Halidan.

  “Exactly so,” said Eioth. “Which brings me to my second reason for calling you here, Lenneth. Acting on the assumption that this theory has merit, I have abstained from magic for almost a moon. I wish you to examine Halidan to see if she is pregnant. If she is not, I would ask that you examine me to see if my fertility is returning.”

  Halidan folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor.

  “Is it possible to tell so soon?” asked Mitash. “You and Halidan have been together a short time only.”

  “I can sense a child's presence in the womb within a few days of conception,” said Lenneth. “If Halidan will permit?”

  “What is required?” asked Halidan with a tremble in her voice. Magic still stung her skin, although she had noticed a little fading of the sensation. Her heart pounded in her throat as Lenneth approached her.

  “I only need to hold your hand a moment.”

  He stood before her, his hand outstretched. For a moment, she held her hands tight against her body. In truth she did not know which answer she wanted to receive. A child, Eioth's baby within her? A desire she'd never known for any other thing in the world built in her chest, restricting her breathing. Eioth's child, hers to grow and hold and nourish. To watch over and love. A bond that would exist between Eioth and herself even after his love for her faded.

  If she was lucky. Every mating of mortals did not result in a child. It might just be the timing of her body was wrong, even if Eioth had met the requirements of the Bachelor's Moon.

  She had to know, one way or another. She placed her hand in Lenneth's.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated. Familiar as she had become with Eioth raising power she expected to feel something, pain, sensation of some type, but nothing. Only the warmth of his fingers on hers. After a pause, Lenneth opened his eyes and smiled.

  “Three weeks pregnant. Congratulations, tor Halidan. You are with child.”

  “Three weeks?” cried Halidan and her hands fell to press against her belly.

  A child. There was a child. She could hear a hundred bees buzzing in her ears and the world twisted around her for an instant. She was with child! Eioth's child. Her knees weakened. Lenneth pushed her gently into a nearby chair.

  “Three weeks?” repeated Eioth. “That is impossible! It has not been a full moon since I last used magic
!”

  “It could be, High Lord,” said Mitash, “that the period of rest you had during the processional was enough to begin your recovery and you did not require the full duration of the moon to complete the process. During the processional, you didn't so much as light a candle, except for assisting with the Midsummer ritual, since everywhere you went were people eager to perform magic before you.”

  “Surely, I performed some spells. It is an unconscious act for me now.”

  “Apparently not,” said Mitash, with a smile.

  “I did perform one ritual with Halidan,” said Eioth, after a pause.

  “What Ritual was that?” asked Lenneth. “It may be that which Element you invoke influences infertility. I should think Fire magic causes greater interference than Earth since its power moves with more vigor through the practitioner. Earth magic has been used to stir up the fertility of the land.”

  “On our return to Swift Breezes, Halidan and I,” Eioth met her eye and gestured helplessly. There was no way to apologize for the embarrassment, yet the subject did need to be addressed. The healer needed all information to form a judgment. “Forgive me, Halidan, but I must say it. Halidan and I engaged in Sex Magic. That was the first time we were together.”

  “I know nothing about Sex Magic,” said Lenneth, his face remained impassive, “beyond some rude jokes that one hears as a young man. Is it much different from Elemental magic?”

  Eioth folded his arms and considered. “It is, and it isn't. The beginning requires acknowledgement of the Elements as usual. I cast a circle, but that is done using personal power. The main part of an Elemental Ritual usually requires me to draw Elemental energy into myself and transform it before casting it out into the world. That may be the moment that limits fertility. But, with Sex Magic, Halidan did the chant and the power we raised came from within her body. I did not take it into my body nor transform it. My role was more to guide the direction of its release. After Elemental magic, I am often tired, but this time, not. Now I think on it, in Sex Magic the greatest burden was placed on Halidan. She was weakened to a state of near collapse afterwards. ”

  “That is an understatement,” said Halidan distantly. For the most part, she permitted the conversation to flow over and past her awareness. She was with child. With child!

  Mitash and Lenneth stared at her curiously. Eioth was the one who answered their unspoken questions.

  “Poor Halidan has suffered since. I changed her skin, as part of the Ritual preparation, and since then she has been very sensitive to any power. Should I so much as begin to raise power to light a candle, Halidan experiences pain so I have refrained from any magic.”

  “Fortunately, Tribel was banished from the House soon after,” said Halidan.

  Lenneth raised an eyebrow, but no one was moved to explain Tribel's habit of poisoning food and clothing. Lenneth shrugged and continued.

  “So, in truth, High Lord, you may have met the requirements of the Bachelor’s Moon prior to your first interlude with tor Halidan. Just because traditionally a full moon is required for the male, lest he be a disappointment to his wife, does not mean that all twenty-eight days must be spent abstinent for fertility to return for all men.”

  “Everyone is different,” said Mitash. “The time needed might be influenced by the amount of magic used, the degree of strength of the practitioner. Halidan's observation was that the weaker the magic practitioner the more likely they would father a child. Mortals and Low Court have no trouble at all. The stronger magical user, much like yourself, would have greater need to abstain.”

  “It could just be that I would have become pregnant from Eioth no matter what,” said Halidan. “I am mortal.”

  “Considering the High Lord's previous infertile marriages, Halidan, I think not,” said Lenneth. “Something had to have changed and Eioth has stated, not doing magic is the difference.”

  “Originally, magic was less concentrated, less organized,” mused Eioth. “As some few people gained more power and rose to be Masters and Adepts this problem would have begun. The healers, logically, would have been the ones to propose a solution – abstain from magic and engender a child.”

  “And kept the answer to themselves as a source of power, or authority over those with greater magics,” finished Mitash, casting a scowl toward Lenneth, who shrugged.

  Halidan's hands tightened over her womb. “Are you certain I am with child?”

  Lenneth smiled at her. “Yes. You are to be congratulated. Consider this your reward for your research and insight.” He glanced up at Eioth and rose hastily to his feet. “It occurs to me that we should retire and permit you to rest.”

  “No,” Halidan grinned and shook her head. “I assure you, I am well.”

  “Then we should permit you and the High Lord to celebrate.”

  Halidan refused to look at Eioth. No doubt if she met his eye she would be put to the blush, again. She did not need to be told what he would consider the appropriate celebration.

  Eioth's hand descended to grip her shoulder. “Mitash and Jendi will attend to your needs, Lenneth. Of your kindness, I would request you remain silent on this matter and remain as my guest for a few days. There may be other matters I wish to discuss with you.”

  “I place myself at your disposal, High Lord.”

  Lenneth bowed and permitted Mitash to escort him from the chamber.

  As soon as the door closed behind them, Eioth came to kneel beside her chair and placed one hand on her belly.

  “A child, Halidan,” he whispered. “I cannot thank you enough.”

  Halidan shrugged. “It is not as if this is a result of my theory. In fact, it might prove me wrong.” She stared off into the distance. “Three weeks. That could be the night of the Ritual itself, or a few days later, in the library.”

  “I would prefer to think the latter,” said Eioth, “when we were comfortable together.”

  “Comfortable.” Halidan leaned toward him, resting her forehead against his. “Yes. Perhaps.”

  “I was counting the days from the Sex Magic Ritual, rather than from Midsummer day. Or the duration of the processional, as Mitash suggested.”

  An odd thought struck Halidan. “Did you live with your wives in the same House as Tribel?”

  Eioth nodded. “It was one of the requirements of the marriage contracts my father created. The ladies resided at my principle House and I visited them there.”

  “Then that guaranteed that you would never come to your wives without recently using magic.” Halidan scowled at her hands. “If your father was not already dead it would be necessary to kill him, if he had this knowledge and kept it to himself.”

  “That the Water priesthood kept the secret is the greater crime,” said Eioth, “for you can see the impact of this lost knowledge.”

  A loud noise and flash of light outside their window had both of them hurrying across the room to see what was happening outside. Another bang and brilliant light cascaded across the sky, briefly forming Chandri's sigil.

  Fireworks!

  Eioth's lips drew back from his teeth and a growl rose from deep in his chest.

  “People will mistake this for a confirmation, a celebration of his gaining the throne,” gasped Halidan, clutching at Eioth's vest. “Tell me he has not been voted High King!”

  “He has not.” The words were hard and bitten off sharp. “And he will be, not if I have anything to say on the matter.”

  “Can we stop it? Now that you may freely do magic, will you take action?”

  “I hope that you have not judged me as weak for doing nothing all this time, Halidan. Sometimes it takes more courage to stand still than to move.”

  Halidan nodded. “In truth, I know that.”

  Eioth kissed Halidan roughly, then put her aside.

  “I must go. Now I know you are pregnant, I can do magic. Tonight, I shall cast about until I find the girls.”

  “How?” demanded Halidan.

  “I shall find a
way,” said Eioth. “Forgive me if I do not stay and celebrate with you. Know that I am overcome with joy.”

  “This is important,” said Halidan and stepped away from him. “Tell me if there is any way I may aid you.”

  “There is not.” Eioth bowed formally, kissed her, and departed.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Dilettantes who have attempted to harness the power of Sex Magic have been known to complain that the practice does not work. Aside from the brief moment of sexual pleasure, nothing magical is accomplished. Those who find Sex Magic grants them no control or power over the universe – no additional monies, no authority over their fellows, no change in their circumstances – should realize that the lack is not in Sex Magic, but in their own minds and will. If the desire is weak, so will the results be. The Sex Magic practitioner must hold their objective tight in their will, direct all of their energy, be prepared to sacrifice to accomplish their aim.

  The Uses and Complexity of Sex Magic

  Eioth stalked through the House, fists clenched at his sides and scowling. Those few servants still about at this hour of the night, seeing him, all hid lest the anger they could sense was directed toward them. Eioth was blind to them all. His mind was entirely directed toward searching his memory for some scrying spell that might serve his purpose. The last few days, he'd read through his magical texts trying to find some exception to the limits of the scrying spells. If Chandri was clever, he would not have begun his self-promotion until he was certain that he had adequate magical protections. As Eioth had explained to Halidan, the effectiveness of scrying spells depended on the people one was spying on saying or doing something of significance when the magician chose to invoke the spell. Gritting his teeth, Eioth increased his pace. Sex Magic, may it be damned forever, was the only spell he'd ever experienced that had shown him exactly what he'd desired at the time of spell casting. Granted he was looking for an object the first time, rather than a person, but that was beside the point. It had worked!