Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Cluff

  “We have an actual Wizard now, and I'm alone in my chambers with the man I love,” she said casting the venom seeker on the wine bottle. When she finished, she set the box down on the tray and poured for each of them. She picked the glasses up and handed him one.

  Thorel took it and was about to take a drink when Ari stopped him with her hand. “A toast first,” she said. He knew that there was definitely more going on than she was telling him. He would be patient for now and see if she would tell him what it was.

  Thorel pulled the glass away from his lips and said, “To what?”

  “To our love, and our future,” she said looking into his eyes.

  “Yes, I'll drink to that,” he said touching his glass to hers.

  They each took a drink of their wine, and he looked into her eyes, trying to discern what she was up to. Her blue eyes were so beautiful though, he would have looked into them anyway.

  When they finished their drink, she set her glass on the tray and picked up the box.

  “What is that?” Thorel asked.

  “A gift for you,” she said with a smile.

  “Ari, you're spoiling me with all of these things,” he said seriously.

  “And I intend to continue spoiling you,” she replied sternly.

  He pursed his lips at that. He was learning that arguing with her was a serious challenge, one not worth undertaking for small things.

  She handed him the wooden box and took his glass from him.

  The only way to proceed was to open it, so he did. Inside was two large silver rings that glowed with Magik. One had the face of a roaring bear, the other had an eagle with its beak open and talons extended. The rings were wide enough to cover the finger joint between his knuckles.

  “They're Magikal,” he breathed in surprise.

  “Yes. They are Talismans my stepmother made for my father. They are not common talismans anyone can use though: they are Wizards' talismans that can only be used by one with the sight,” she said watching him with a smile.

  “Your father was a Wizard?” Thorel had no idea.

  “Oh no. My father had the sight, but his sight age was sixteen. There is no point in even going through the enchanters training with so little ability. But he was able to use Wizard's talismans with what little ability he did have,” she lectured.

  “I don't know if I can accept this Ari. I mean really, they were your father's,” Thorel said.

  Ari's look changed to one he recognized as her irritation. “My father is dead, and I want you to have them. They are useful, and will help keep you from harm. They will help you serve me better, too,” she said.

  As usual, she was ready to argue the point. So he asked. “What do they do?”

  “The bear grants you strength. It will multiply your strength many times over. With my own bracelets, I could easily throw you through the closed door of the dining room. But with you, it would be far more powerful,” she smiled, looking him up and down.

  “The eagle grants you speed. It will enable you to move faster than the eye can see, giving you a serious advantage over anyone without such Magik.”

  Thorel looked at them in wonder. “How do I use them?” He asked.

  “You touch them with your mind to activate them or deactivate them. It is very similar to the technique I taught you to touch my mind, except that no Magikal power is needed. You can practice that later though,” she said taking the box and walking it over to Thorel's dresser. She set it on top and returned handing him his wineglass.

  She took hers and looked at him. She looked away for a moment and took a deep breath. Is she nervous? He wondered.

  Then she spoke: “Thorel, will you marry me?” She asked, looking almost afraid.

  And the moment was suddenly here. Thorel had thought about it, and he knew she would ask this. He just hadn't expected it right now. “Isn't there some sort of problem with me being a commoner marrying a Noble?” He asked.

  “That doesn't matter, I will deal with it one way or another. But I want to marry you. Will you accept me?” She asked again.

  “Yes. I do love you, I will marry you if you'll have me,” he said, still concerned about the consequences of the rank difference between them. But he knew he could depend on her. She knew so much he didn't, and was so smart. He knew if anyone could overcome it she could.

  She hugged him, and they kissed for a long time standing there. He could see her touch the glow stones in the room with her Magik, abruptly extinguishing them. He stood there with her in his arms though, concentrating on the kiss they shared.

  When they released, she took their glasses and put them on the tray. She pulled off her robe and tossed it without a care showing the thin red silk beneath it. She opened his robe exposing his naked body and pulled on the open sides.

  “Come to bed,” she said. Her smile was beautiful under the moonlight as Thorel's eyes acclimated.

  He followed her and they tumbled into the bed playfully. He laughed and she giggled as they kissed and touched each other. Thorel pulled the open robe he was wearing off and tossed it away as well.

  They kissed hungrily, and their hands caressed each other. When his hand found her womanhood it was uncovered; she had not worn underwear tonight. It was slick with moisture. She moaned in his ear and said: “I want you, Thorel. Take me, please,” she breathed.

  “What if my seed catches?” He whispered back by rote. He wanted to, so badly. He was so hard it was painful, and her touch sent shivers of desire through his body.

  “I don't care, I will bear your child,” she rolled him onto his back and put her legs on either side of him. With her hand, she guided him inside of her. She lowered her hips onto him, consuming his manhood. She gasped painfully as she did it, and Thorel gasped as well. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

  All concerns of tomorrow were washed away by the perfection of this moment, by the love he felt for this beautiful woman he was now betrothed to.

  Friday May 24th 1624th year of the First Great City

  Groundbreaking Day

  Yesterday had been an eventful, interesting day. When they awoke in the morning following their lovemaking, they embraced and began again. He couldn't imagine his life without her now. Time lost all meaning when they were coupled like this: it wasn't until the servants' door opened that they were even aware of its existence.

  “Why are you here at this time, Kira?” Ari snapped, Thorel stopped mid-stroke to pull the sheet over them irritably. Nothing before now had ever annoyed him as much as this interruption did.

  Kira turned away and spoke nervously, “Mistress, you are always gone at this time, please forgive me.”

  Their heads turned to the window and clock: it had become full light outside and the clock read half past the seventh hour.

  “By the spirits!” Ari cried, and rolled him over to get out from underneath. “We need to clean! Kira, tell the chef to make something that can be eaten in the carriage! By the spirits!!” She grabbed a robe and ran into the bathroom without looking back.

  They ate their breakfast in the carriage and missed their first class. The second class was nearly halfway through before they arrived. His teacher had scolded him in front of the class before allowing him to be seated. He imagined Ari's instructor was much more forgiving than his was.

  After classes were over, he'd met Nigel and Nina after he acquired his work from his first class. They went to a nearby pub and had a few drinks. It seemed completely wrong that he and Nigel were in a pub without Eliel. The first pub he'd ever gone to was here in Vallad, with the two of them. He wiped the tear that fell from his face.

  Nina was quiet at first until she'd gotten a couple of drinks in her. She seemed nice enough, but it felt like she was just keeping Eliel's chair warm. It bothered Thorel, but he held his peace. He wondered what had happened to her bandaged cheek though.

  Then Thorel told Nigel that Ari had asked him to marry her, and he'd accepted.

  “Holy shit, man!
Are you serious? Even though she just wants you to secure her house?” He asked.

  “Man, I love her. And she loves me. Yes, she wants to secure her house, but that isn't all it is,” he'd said.

  Nigel looked at Nina. They had been holding hands the whole time since he met up with them tonight. “So what do you think? Should we?” He asked her.

  “Are you crazy, man? Just because I bedded you once doesn't mean I'm in love with you. Besides, you're too short,” she said, slightly tipsy. She still held onto his hand while she said this, Thorel noticed.

  Thorel laughed harder than he had in a week hearing that.

  “You just got me all drunk and I wasn't thinking straight. That's what it was. It won't be happening again,” she said raising her mug and putting it down empty.

  “Do you want another?” Nigel asked her with a grin.

  “Don't mind if I do,” she nodded to him.

  Nigel leaned across the table and whispered loudly to him, “Maybe I can get her drunk again,” he said with a sidelong glance at her.

  She stood up and put him in a headlock, sitting him back down in his chair. She then proceeded to rap the top of his head with her knuckles a few times. “You are positively a degenerate bastard!” She yelled.

  Nigel cried, “Ow, ow, ow,” in time with the raps.

  “I thought you two were getting close,” Thorel said with a laugh.

  Nina let him go and said, “He's a damn fine man when he isn't being a pervert.”

  “That he is,” Thorel said raising his mug to them with a grin.

  After he'd returned to the Manor, and he'd done his homework for the day. Ari taught him how to use her father's talismans, and they made passionate love before they slept. She told him that mornings were off limits now except for the weekends. He'd agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment.

  Today's academic day had been normal, with nothing strange occurring. As soon as the carriage doors closed though, they dropped their bags and kissed passionately, ignoring their guards.

  The guards in turn ignored them.

  They held each other steady as the carriage lurched to a start. Then they went to the bench on the back side of the carriage.

  “We have a big evening tonight,” Ari said putting her arm around him.

  “Why? What's going on?” He asked while doing the same.

  “It's Groundbreaking day today. The High Lord is having a party as he does every year,” she said with a smile.

  “Really? I wonder what that would be like,” Thorel said in wonder.

  She smiled. “Well you will find out at the twentieth hour,” she said.

  “What?” He said. “We're going?”

  “Of course we are. The High Lord couldn't have a party like this and invite every other House without inviting ours. That would be such an insult I would be almost obligated to declare war on him,” she said seriously.

  “Oh,” Thorel said feeling completely lost in the world of politics. “So why wouldn't he invite war if he is so powerful? You said the High Lady threatened your life.”

  Ari smiled. “He is powerful, but most of his power comes from the Throne. If he invites war by insult, attack, or plot the Crown General will not assist him. The Crown Legion fights for the realm, not for slights made by the High Nobility. Without the Legion, he has less than half the power I do. He would have to depend on the Alliances of his House to assist him, not the power of the throne. Which is not inconsiderable, but it is still a battle that could be won.”

  “That doesn't make any sense,” Thorel said confused. “How can he be above you and not have the power you do?”

  “I speak of his personal power. With the Crown General, the forces at his disposal are equal to mine and Quarrels together. Without the Crown general, it is much less,” she said with a smile.

  Thorel asked, “So for what reasons would the Crown General withhold his support?”

  “Mostly for the reason I stated. By law, he is not supposed to involve the Legion in conflicts the High Lord has personally agitated. But that line is ambiguous, as is anything in politics and law. If the High Lord can make it appear as if he did nothing to start a conflict with a House, then the Crown General would be obligated to support the High Lord,” she said.

  “It is always about appearances, Thorel. But if proof were to be presented that a High Noble did, in fact, start a conflict and falsely involved the Crown Legion, the King himself could call for that High Nobles removal. Which the Crown General would then execute. The other Lords and Ladies could simply stay out of the way, and see how long it takes for the Legion to oust them from the tower. But, of course, I would offer my support to the Crown General, to make certain the King knew my value and loyalty,” she said with a laugh.

  “I still don't understand why he doesn't have the power you do. I mean, he's the High Lord!” Thorel said, thinking that made obvious sense.

  “It is about the room he has to house his forces, Thorel,” She said patiently. “The Tower itself can only accommodate about one-hundred-forty-thousand or so. I would guess that with the walls around the tower, which join to the Crown General's Tower, The Wizard's Tower, and the Crown Lord's Tower and the smaller towers on the wall itself he could have maybe two-hundred-thousand? But it is likely that fifty-thousand or more would be servants and slaves.”

  “Can't he house more elsewhere?” He asked.

  “Oh, he could I suppose. He does own all the slaves that work in the cisterns, and they are housed there. But according to my information there is no army of the High Lord lying in wait there that I am aware of. It would be rather difficult to hide. I will say one thing about the High Lord though: according to my information he does have more Wizards at his disposal than Quarrel and I combined. That would do a lot to even the odds if it were to come to war,” she said seriously.

  “How much bigger is your army?” He was very curious.

  “I have five armies of fifty-thousand soldiers each, just as Quarrel does. The High Lord has two armies for certain, he may have a third. More than that I cannot say. It is very difficult to get informants inside the Tower,” she said with irritation plainly evident.

  “Doesn't the Crown Nobility serve the High Lord though?” He asked.

  “The Crown Nobility is beneath the rank of Great Nobility, but above that of the Minor Nobility, such as Lord Guithenus, Vorn, Lodor or any of the others. The Crown Nobility's function is to administer justice in a part of the High Lord's Great City. They are put in that position to be in line to become a Great Noble should a Great Noble fall or ascend. The High Lord Administers justice upon all the Nobility within his domain.”

  “The main difference between a Crown Noble and a Great Noble is the size of their army. A Crown Noble in Vallad can only house about one army each. Other than those differences, they function very much the same as any other Noble House. They may choose their own alliances as they wish, and they are beholden to the High Lord as I am only for their specific responsibilities. They are not puppets of the High Lord any more than I am though. The title of 'Crown Lord' is a holdover from a time when they were beholden to the throne as the Crown General is. The function was changed, but the title wasn't,” she concluded.

  Thorel nodded, “It seems like you should do something about the High Lady's threat then. I would call that an insult if there ever was one,” he looked at her seriously.

  She sank back into her seat and looked at the ceiling. “The way she said it makes it not worth pursuing. “I think my husband would do well to find a reason to kill you,” that could easily be seen as a casual observation, not a direct threat. And, of course, any such charge against the High Lady would have to be heard by her better, of which there is only one. The King himself,” she sighed in frustration.

  “So? Shouldn't you make the charge for such a threat?” Thorel said in equal frustration.

  Ari turned her head towards him while she laid back and said; “Lucia Vallad was born Lucia Corwinthius. She is the
King's younger sister, Thorel.”

  “Shit,” was all Thorel could think to say. That changed things a lot.

  “Not so eloquent, my love. But I agree with the sentiment. Erlac Vallad is a puppet of the Throne Thorel, and every Noble knows it. His father died when he was sixteen, under circumstances that were more than a little suspicious. A terrible illness that was unknown and sudden is the official story. My step-bitch didn't believe it any more than I do,” she spat out.

  “And to save the Vallad family's place in the High Nobility comes Lucia Corwinthius to marry the boy and hold Regency until he came of age. Oh and when my stepmother died, Lucia Vallad becomes Vallad's representative on the Wizard's Council? Not to say she isn't qualified, she just isn't as qualified as Crown Lord Kendal, or Lord Lok. The Wizard's Council is supposed to be above politics, but no one is. I'm quite certain a suggestion was made by the Throne or someone close to it about who should take the empty seat,” Ari was positively venomous when she said this.

  “Does that make the Throne itself our enemy?” He asked with great concern.

  “I doubt it. I might be a Great Lady, but I have done nothing to attract the attention of the Throne. I don't have the power to threaten the King. He likely doesn't even know my name, except as the label of our wines and spirits,” she said ruefully.

  “Well, it is the best wine there is,” Thorel said with a smile and kissed her.

  * * *

  Ari stepped out of her carriage with Thorel, Siri, and Hannon Guithenus in her entourage. Eight Dothranan Guards from Ari's personal guard exited as well. It was a quarter past the nineteenth hour. Her escort fanned out on their horses and began dismounting, handing the leads off to waiting stablemen.

  Ari wore an extremely complex black silk dress with layered skirts. The skirt's layers were lined with red silk that flashed their colors as she walked. It was long enough to cover her boots at her insistence. The top of the dress had a boned corset that was laced with red leather, but it was not laced so tight to constrict her breathing. Beneath the corset, she wore a thin white silk blouse that was form fitting. It was embroidered with black vines sprouting red blossoms that ran down the sleeves.