Chapter Five
Luthian stood at the balcony, overlooking the city, as the women that served him fluttered about behind him preparing a meal. He stood with a jeweled chalice watching the bustling activity. Silverport was laid out, as most cities of Lerdenia, in a series of tiers. The higher the tier, the higher one’s standing in the circle of wizardry. It was not a matter of birth but a matter of skills in the magical arts. Each child was tested at a very young age and depending upon their skill, they were sent to the appropriate starting tier. Luthian was currently the Minister of Silverport. This title was voted upon by only those in the fifth tier, it was the highest tier.
Life in the high tier was pleasant. The halls were filled with luxuries from throughout the kingdom. Sometimes, a child of low skill was brought up to serve the high tier such as the women that now prepared his dinner. Later, he would choose among the women for one to warm his bed. He watched the setting sun with pleasure. The wind was such that the odors of the trench were not wafting up today. The trench was where those who had no magical skills and the outlanders lived and worked. Luthian had often dreamed of purging the trench but even he had to admit that the menial labors that those there provided were necessary for the rest of the city’s beauty.
Luthian sipped his wine with a cold smile. His long graceful fingers grasped the jeweled chalice casually. It did not take one of intelligence long to learn how to survive in Silverport. Bloodstones could be purchased, and if one was lucky, magic gained from their murky depths. Rivals could be poisoned and removed from one’s climb to a higher tier. Luthian has seen more than one mage removed from his path. He had been fortunate in that his innate skill had been with fire. This had started him in the third tier with more access than most. He had been able to use that skill to earn coin and purchase bloodstones. His climb had been slow and carefully plotted. He smiled remembering a time when he had shared the bed of one particularly influential fourth tier mage.
The man had been so enthralled with his new ‘toy’ that he had never seen the dagger coming. Luthian drifted off in thought to that moment when the corpulent mage had pulled him close, his fat lips wet with anticipation. As he had moved to claim Luthian’s own, the knife that had found his heart had been swift. The man’s shock had not been at the pain within his chest but the realization that a little third tier mage would bring a fourth tier mage to his knees. There had been no words between them as the man had slid to the floor. There had been no need. It was the way of the tiers. He still remembered the triumph of watching life fading from that locked, wordless gaze. Luthian’s fingers tightened on the chalice. He started as a voice broke through his musings.
“Master Luthian, the stable lord has sent word and wishes to speak with you." His chamberlain called softly. He was cautious for interrupting the Minister could have deadly results. The man’s tone was placating and gentle.
Luthian took a slow, calculating drink before turning to face the wizened man. “Near the dinner hour?" His eyes moved over the man, satisfied to see the shiver of fear that swept across the small man’s body. “He had best have news of great import. See him to my office." Luthian turned back to finish watching the sunset. The stable lord was of the third tier and it would take some time for the word of permission and travel to bring the man to his door. There was no need to turn to see if his command was followed, Luthian was not denied.
Luthian gazed down at the fourth tier. The gleaming streets were laid with white bricks flickering with crystals. The rising stone towers spiraled about with the same stone. The name of the city came from this unique stone for when the sun was just so, the city turned to bright silver. It was blinding at the wrong angle to one looking up at the city as a whole from the plains. The tiers had developed both out of a need for social distinction and protection. During the war with the Daezun, it had quickly been learned that the upper tiers could be easily protected by making only narrow and arduous passages to them. There was a large white arching bridge from the plains to the third tier but a section of it was wood and could be dropped away to prevent an enemy from bypassing the trench, first and second tiers. It was a system that had insured Lerdenia had a firm hand in the wars.
On the opposite side of the city lay the vast port. The tall-masted ships were just visible from Luthian’s vantage point. He had increased the size of the fleet since he had become minister. Too many times, he had felt that the high circle did not take the threat of far off lands seriously enough. In addition, trading with these lands brought in goods that could not be produced with the local craftsman. His free hand fingered the silk of his robes. That material was one such item brought in by the trading fleet. Luthian knew that the large ships were impressive sailing into port and would give far off leaders pause. If Lerdenian trading ships were so impressive, what would their warships bring? Magic was innate in the Lerdenian people, a fact that he had made sure was well known in other ports.
Luthian roused from his musings and downed his glass. He held it out without turning, and a young hand took it from him. He turned from the balcony, his silken robes flowing about a moment behind his body, the swish of silk a warning to those close by. Women stilled and eyes dropped as the Minister swept from the room. The smell of food wafted to him as he passed. It would still be there when he returned. In fact, if he took too long, it would be replaced with fresh offerings before he ever stepped into the room. Yes, life as the minister was quite pleasant indeed.
Luthian did not pause as he entered the room where his stable lord waited. The doors opened by two armored and shorter men, their drab brown hair and short statures giving way that they were of Daezun blood. In comparison, despite his age, Luthian was tall and lithe. His light blue robes flowed about him. They hid the drain that the constant use of magic pulled from him. His hair, a long straight length, was bleached white and he kept it drawn back with a matching band of blue. His eyes sparkled much like the streets, a soft lavender and silver. Despite his lithe form, he was commanding in his presence, and rare was it that all eyes did not move to him when he entered. Despite the striking handsome face of the man, he was like marble, cold and hard, and his piercing eyes held no tenderness.
The stable lord, Veaneth, kneeled as he entered. “I bring news that I think will please you, Master Luthian." The man almost whined his words. His eyes staring at the Minister’s shining black boots.
Luthian wrinkled his nose for the man often smelled of sour sweat, and his mewling was irritating. “That you are here at such an unseemly hour makes that quite clear Veaneth. Rise and speak your news." The minister’s voice held the impatience of a man who did not wish to be kept from his dinner. Luthian moved to his desk and sat. He put his booted feet upon the rich wood and leaned back to eye the man. He watched as Veaneth struggled to his feet. The large man was winded from the climb required to cross from the third to the council tier. He held such weakness against the man.
Veaneth spoke somewhat breathlessly. “The decree to offer women of the first and second tier a higher path has brought forth many volunteers. Already three are confirmed with child." The man smiled. “It was verified this afternoon.”
“These women understand that this pass to a higher tier will only occur if the child is born and shows the proper leanings?" Luthian was clearly pleased at this news. He knew that many of the council disapproved of his decree, but he had managed to sway enough votes to see it passed. He sat with his hands intertwined upon his chest.
“Yes Minister. I made them sign a contract so there could be no error including a clause of silence. They speak, and they will be sent to the trenches for life." Veaneth answered swiftly. He moved slightly closer to the desk. He kept his eyes trained upon the Minister's boots.
“We have twenty seven females and ten males. Needless to say, the ten males took some adjusting, but they are now quite pleased with their fate." Veaneth chuckled darkly.
“The Daezun women, their elixirs to prevent child should nearly have worn off, yes?" Lu
thian’s question was with clear anticipation.
“Aye sir, I will have chambers prepared for those you care to breed personally." Veaneth looked at him hopefully. Since the two of them had started the breeding project, Luthian had not once let him take part. “Once the potion wears off, then they can be bred until it takes."
Luthian sat back doing some calculations. He had discovered during the war that some of the Daezun females who had been taken in battle had produced children with a unique quality. Daezun could not use magic. This made them ideal for digging bloodstones for they could not siphon the magics from the precious stones. Lerdenians’ excelled at the use of such magics and their society was solely built around the ease and use of such skills. However, a Lerdenian was limited by his strength as to what skills he could pull upon and for a how long. These half breeds with a more Daezun build had been found to be able to use magics often needed in battle without the same drain upon their strengths...Some were deadly with a bow in ways that the average huntsmen envied. Others could manage elements tiring at a much slower rate than their Lerdenian counterparts. Luthian had gathered together those he had tested and found with the proper skills into an elite force that now served him. He had seen to their schooling personally, ensuring that only magics useful in battle were provided and doing much to insure their loyalty. The Black Guard currently only numbered slightly over a hundred, but he had plans to increase their numbers substantially over time.
Luthian also was staring at his boots as he considered the news and import. The Daezun should still be under Lerdenian rule for they were little better than beasts of burden. They had no skills in magic. Their choice of a simple village life when they could live in such higher luxury confused him. Why would anyone want to toil in the dirt if they did not have to so as to earn their keep? This desire to be a part of the land only confirmed they were little better than animals. However, he had to admit their skill in working as a reliable force had led to the Lerdenians being trapped in their cities under siege. The council had misjudged the Daezun seeing them as individual villages but somehow they came together as one in the second war. A treaty had been established. This treaty worked for now but was not in Luthian’s long term plans. He had been but a boy when the war started and had made it only to the fourth tier when it had ended. No, this treaty did not fit into his plans at all.
Veaneth continued to stand and stare at the Minister’s feet. Silence reigned heavy in the room, and Veaneth glanced higher to see if the Minister was even paying attention. Luthian’s far off gaze seemed to cast through whatever he was looking at.
In truth, Luthian was seeing something beyond the stable lord. He had a larger vision. He intended to conquer the lands that the Daezun and the Lerdenians shared bringing it under a single rule. Then, he would turn his eyes to other lands. He would make Lerdenia an empire of such strength that all would bow in its path. These sturdy half breeds would be his army. He was a patient man and the careful use of spells, potions, and magic’s would insure Luthian had many years before him to see the matter completed. In addition to his program to breed the Daezun within the city with Lerdenians, he had the traders and traveling mages visiting mating circles and rituals as often as he could urge them into the Daezun lands. He had given those men potions and charms to insure they were often chosen in these circles. The resulting outcasts of half-blood were often rejected by their sturdier cousins. This suited Luthian well for he just swept in and cajoled the lost souls to his elite force. Daezun always made sure their small ones were well trained regardless of their origins. He had not been disappointed in this ploy.
“Then I am pleased with this news." Luthian suddenly announced. The stable lord started after such a long extended silence. Luthian reached into his desk as he placed his feet once more upon the floor. He tossed the man a small bloodstone.
Veaneth caught it deftly. It did not matter what power the stone held or if it would just bring a strengthening of his own limited skills. If he ever wanted to be more than the minister’s boot licker, he had to have power. “Thank you Minister. I am but a servant to your pleasure." Veneto’s platitudes were bordering on the whining of a child.
“See yourself out. My dinner waits." His lack of patience clear, Luthian rose gracefully and without a second glance left the room.
Veaneth watched him go, his face going hard. He knew that the minister would kill him as soon as look at him. Such was the way of the tiers, but he also knew that the project was frowned on by many of the council. As such, Luthian needed him and his silence. He turned on his heel, no longer the groveling servant and strode from the room. Outside of Luthian’s presence he was treated well, for everyone knew that for some reason Veaneth held favor.
Luthian returned to his well laid dinner. His meal was, as he expected, warm and waiting. Four woman stood in attendance about the table. As soon as he was seated, one moved to him and cleaned each of his hands with a warm wet towel. Her eyes never touching the man’s face. Her beauty was enhanced by the scant robe that hid little of her breasts from his gaze. Luthian, however, did not even seem to notice. Lost in his thoughts of power and conquest, such beauty at his beck and call was his expectation. As soon as he was washed, the women moved soundless about Luthian to serve him and to insure his plate and glass were kept full.
Luthian did not speak during his dinners alone. He used this time to consider the events of the day and how they fit into his overall plans. He was irritated that his meal had been interrupted yet again by news that the bloodstone trader had arrivd. He has sent news the man could await his pleasure. He finished his dinner lost in his thoughts and plans.
As his plate was being removed, a young woman, new to his service, bumped his arm as he sipped his wine. His wine splashed slightly upon his robes, and his surprise brought his eyes upon the girl. She stood before him trembling. Her young body was tense as she stood unspeaking before the minister. No one moved as they waited to see what this sacrilege would bring to the woman who stood before Luthian.
“You made me spill my drink." He commented quietly, his voice was as liquid as the silk he wore.
“Yes Master, I am so sorry. I did not mean to touch your arm." The girl’s voice was barely audible. She was biting her lip as she stared at the floor.
Luthian tipped her face up to look at him. His cold white fingers were in stark contrast to her warm rich skin. He realized her eyes were like emeralds, and he liked the fear that shimmered in their depths. “You are new?" He was forced to ask as he often did not pay attention to those that attended his meals. However, now that she had gained his attention, he found her features pleasing and as his eyes roved over her body, a stirring of interest.
“Yes Master." She whispered. Her voice warbled in tone as she cast about to the other women as if seeking help.
Luthian could feel her terror growing as he held her chin to force her face to gaze once more upon his own. Even so, her eyes did not quite meet his. “You know that to spill upon the Minister is unforgivable in service?" His soft question was deadly.
“Y-yes Master." The girl’s eyes filled with tears.
He smiled almost feeding on the terror that was palpable beneath his fingers. “What is your name?" He asked slowly setting down his wine glass. While fear was not new to his experiences with women, it was clear that this woman did not know quite what it was she had to fear. The unknown was such an exquisite fear to behold.
“Keelee." She answered, her eyes following that wine glass. She still stood holding his plate. She was shaking so hard that the fork rattled upon its fragile surface.
“Well then, Keelee, it is fortunate that I am in a fair mood. You may make it up to me in my bed this night. I suggest you do not disappointment there. I would hate for this to be your first and last day at my table." He drawled out slowly letting his fingers fall away from her chin.
The fascinating eyes were obscured by the curtain of deep brown hair kept loose as he commanded by those that served him. He
heard her mutter, “Yes Master." She turned and fled his presence. He chuckled softly. He picked up his glass and downed the last. Tonight would be most pleasing.
Finished with his dinner, he rose from the table and moved to the receiving hall. He had received word that a load of stones were in and that there was one of an unusual color and size. He had been irritated that his dinner had been interrupted once more and in uncertain terms made it clear that the trader could wait. The chamberlain had been forced to go and change his scorched robes.
As the Minister walked into the room, the irritating Daezun trader began bobbing and bowing. “I have brought you a fine batch from down south, Minister. You will be most impressed." He led the minister to the table where various stones were laid out. The table had been covered with a black cloth to set the stones to their best advantage. The trader, as always, had arrayed the stones from the smallest to the largest.
Luthian had arranged for many of the central traders to give him first pick of the stones. Many were the usual small stones of a trade. The problem with small stones was that one did not know if it were a unique power or just a surge to strengthen what one already had. He worked his way to where the larger stones were laid out. He chose several stones to have set aside. He did not quibble or barter. The man knew to charge him a fair price.
“I heard a tale you have found one of an incredible size, but I see nothing unusual." Luthian eyed the man. If such a stone existed, it had better be here.
The trade smiled with delight. “Aye, Minister. I have kept it special for I knew you would want it." The man pulled a small wooden chest from under the table and set it down proudly.
Luthian eyed the chest. If the chest was any indicator of size, then the stone would be bigger than any he had ever seen. Such a stone would have the main power of whatever dragon formed it. He licked his lips in anticipation for there had only been one other stone known to contain such power and it had been many centuries ago. “Well, open it." Luthian demanded. He clasped his hands behind him to prevent himself from just ripping the chest open himself.
Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas) Page 6
