Conjuring the Flesh

by Brandon Fox

  They dismounted and tied their horses to rings set in the edge of the cobblestone street. Thane was quiet as they walked along a brick path, through a garden crowded with heathers and tall, spiky flowers with blue blooms. He came out of his reverie when they reached the front door, turning to Ander and smiling ruefully. “Eleven years ago I wouldn’t have needed to knock. I had the run of the house. Even though I was a servant, Lord Tolmin treated me like a son.”

  “How much does he know about the art? Has he seen you since giving you the estate?”

  “Oh yes. I visit him almost every year. He knows about the art and the suspension of aging, though he doesn’t know any details. He knows it grows from passion and that the lovers have to be the same gender.” He chuckled softly. “Tolmin was never that interested in sex. You’d understand if you’d had a chance to meet his wife. She was a frivolous woman with no interest in science. He could scarcely think of anything to say to her. And he never had an interest in men. But I don’t think age bothers him. He was never vain and finds peace in letting nature take its course.”

  “He’s a philosopher as well as a botanist,” Ander observed as Thane rang a small bell mounted beside the door. “Most men fear death.”

  “He probably views death as something new to experience. And I think he’s tired. He’s been chafing under the zamindar’s tyranny for too long.” The door swung open before Ander could reply.

  A young servant dressed in green hose and gold shirt looked at them imperiously. “Deliveries are made in the back,” he said dismissively.

  Thane sighed. “New here, aren’t you? Just tell him Thane is calling. And I’ve brought a friend I’d like him to meet.”

  The young man looked affronted. “You expect me to believe Lord Tolmin knows you? Not likely. Lord Tolmin is a gentleman and a scholar. He’d have no business with the likes of you.”

  Thane’s face clouded, but Ander reached into a pocket and pulled out a silver coin. “For your trouble,” he said politely. “Just let Lord Tolmin know Thane is here. Believe me, he’ll be displeased if he learns you sent us away unannounced.”

  The servant scowled for a moment, then held out his hand. As soon as Ander dropped the coin into his palm, he nodded curtly. “I’ll return with your answer shortly.”

  Thane’s fists were clenched, but Ander treated it lightly. “Another form of magic, that’s all. Nicolai demonstrated it to me when we visited Fochelis.”

  “Nicolai has always been sensible. You did well to learn from him. I should try to do the same.” He slid an arm around Ander’s waist and gave him a squeeze. “I’m just nervous. This place is full of ghosts for me.”

  Ander didn’t need to be told which particular ghost was haunting his beloved. He returned the squeeze, wishing Thane could feel his support but knowing he was blind to their link and feeling lonely.

  The door flew open. A wiry man smudged with dirt but dressed in fine clothes rushed out and embraced Thane. Wispy white hair floated like a cloud around his head. The enthusiasm of his greeting left Ander blinking. After a quick hug, the man stepped back and put his hands on Thane’s shoulders, shaking his head in amazement.

  “Still unchanged. As comely a rogue as ever! Just looking at you makes me feel ten years younger.” The old man turned to Ander, his blue eyes sparkling. “And who’s your friend? Are his looks as misleading as yours?”

  “Gregory, this is Ander. He’s new to the art and no older than he looks.” He put his hands on Lord Tolmin’s forearms and squeezed them gently. “He’s someone special. Let’s go inside, and I’ll tell you.”

  Lord Tolmin clasped hands with Ander, giving him a penetrating but friendly examination in the process. He appeared to approve of Ander’s firm grasp and unwavering eye. After a moment he stepped back and held the door open. “You’re most welcome in my home, Ander. Any friend of Thane’s is my friend.”

  The manor’s entry hall, a cavernous room paneled in cherry, felt more like a jungle. Light poured through windows of colored glass, painting a bewildering array of potted plants in myriad colors. Thane surveyed the profusion with amusement.

  “Your new greenhouse is already full? I thought you said it would last you the rest of your life.”

  Lord Tolmin shrugged helplessly. “You know how the damned plants are. They just won’t stop growing. It’s not my fault, really.”

  Thane snorted. “I’ll wager you wasted no time expanding your collection. Admit it, Gregory. You have some new treasures, don’t you?”

  “A few,” Tolmin admitted grudgingly. A wide grin broke out. “Well, seven score, to tell the truth. Come, let me show you!”

  “I’d like that. But first let me tell you what brings us here. We’ve had a problem at the lyceum.”

  “Tell me about it on the way,” Tolmin said as he headed for a doorway at the room’s far end. “Come, come.” He gestured as he walked, not waiting for them.

  Thane and Ander quickly caught up with the elderly aristocrat. The mansion’s wide corridors were brightly lit with rows of windows running from floor to ceiling. The air was damp and surprisingly warm. Thick stone floors captured the sun’s heat and gave it back to the riotous vegetation that filled the house. Ander could see why Thane had been fascinated by the place when he’d taken a job there as a boy.

  Thane moved abreast of Lord Tolmin. “I’m eager to see your new specimens. But I have to tell you, our mission here is urgent. Our greenhouse was destroyed in a snowstorm. Nearly everything was lost.”

  Tolmin came to an abrupt halt, his eyes round with horror. “No! What about the Passion Fruit vine? And the Poisoner’s Delight? And that new succulent I sent you, the—”

  “All gone,” Thane said grimly. “You know what it means, don’t you? For our struggle with the zamindar?”

  “The zamindar!” Tolmin’s face registered dismay. He pushed the fingers of both hands back through his wispy hair. “How could I have forgotten? I’ve gotten a strange letter, Thane. From Ossia. She’s up to mischief again. I’ve been wanting to speak with you about it but didn’t want to send word in writing.” He peered at Thane owlishly. “There are spies everywhere these days. Did you know that?”

  “I’d heard,” Thane confirmed. “Tell me about Ossia, old friend. Then we’ll tell you about the storm.”

  Tolmin took a deep breath, his face pained. “Forgive me for speaking of her intrigues. I regret the grief she’s caused you. I’ve tried to make amends.”

  “No need for apologies,” Thane said softly. “The zamindar’s men killed Lucian, no one else. Your kindness saved me, Gregory. I’ll always be grateful. And now Ander is healing my heart.”

  Lord Tolmin turned and regarded Ander carefully, a new respect in his eyes. “Then I’m truly honored to meet you. You have my thanks and whatever else I can offer.”

  Ander blushed, surprised at becoming the center of attention. He bowed slightly. “Thane’s love is all I desire, Lord Tolmin. But anything you can do to help our cause would be a great service.”

  “Our cause,” Thane said, a faraway look in his eyes. “The truth is, Ossia and I fired each other’s defiance.” He shook himself, then looked Lord Tolmin in the eye. “I share responsibility for what happened to her. If she needs help again, I gladly offer it.”

  Lord Tolmin nodded, clearly pleased. “Brave as ever. But it’s not escape from a dungeon she needs this time. She asked for my help deciphering a letter. Some of her friends took it from an imperial messenger who got drunk in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was pure luck, but her friends were able to make off with his satchel. They found a single letter, its seal bearing the zamindar’s own mark. I’ll show you. It’s in the west greenhouse with my other papers.”

  They continued along the corridor and soon arrived at the greenhouse that comprised the mansion’s west wing. It was smaller than the greenhouse at the lyceum but far more luxurious. Instead of timbers, the soaring framework was made of black iron with curling decorations where the bars connected
. The huge glass panes sparkled, and the air was pleasantly warm.

  Ander marveled at the vast collection of plants, but Lord Tolmin had temporarily forgotten about his new acquisitions. He led them to a table near the back of the structure. Potting materials and tools for propagating plants were scattered around its surface. He opened a drawer and rummaged through a pile of papers. In a few moments, he extracted a battered envelope.

  “Here it is,” he said with satisfaction. “I’ve had it for a week now, but I’m having trouble reading it.” He handed it to Thane. “It seems closely related to the Kulmaan dialect. But it has nothing to do with botany, so most of the characters are meaningless to me. I thought you might be able to help me with it.” He sighed and ran fingers through his hair again. “I think it deals with politics, but I’m not sure. I don’t attend to politics as much as I should, I’m afraid.”

  “You never did,” Thane said. “As you always said, botany makes far more sense.” He examined the broken seal on the back of the envelope. His eyebrows went up. “You’re right—this wax looks like it was impressed with the zamindar’s own ring. I’m surprised Ossia’s friends were able to get it. Was the messenger traveling alone?”

  “Apparently he was. Perhaps the zamindar didn’t have enough soldiers to provide an escort. I’ve heard the imperial guard is keeping busy these days.”

  “That could be,” Thane mused as he pulled a piece of creamy white parchment from the envelope. He held it up to the light. “The paper bears the zamindar’s watermark. It looks authentic, though I’ve never heard of an imperial messenger being intercepted before.”

  “Study it while I collect some seeds for you,” Tolmin said. “It’s useless to try taking anything else until the weather warms. How long will it take to repair your greenhouse?”

  “We’ll make the glass ourselves,” Ander answered, since Thane was absorbed in the letter. “The rest of the work is just felling timber and carving it into beams. Two or three months should be enough, unless the winter turns bitter.”

  “Good, good,” Lord Tolmin muttered as he started toward the foliage behind them. “I’ll start some seedlings, have them ready. Let’s see now, where did I put my trowel….”

  Ander turned to look over Thane’s shoulder as Lord Tolmin vanished into the vegetation. Tiny drawings, mostly long and short bars that crossed each other at various angles, filled the sheet. “What is it?” he asked. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “This is a kind of writing used far to the east.” He pointed to a row of little drawings. “These are stylized pictures. Each one means a word. I can make out a bit of it. Lord Tolmin asked Lucian to teach it to him so he could study eastern botanical texts, and I learned it too. But I haven’t used it in years.” He held the parchment closer.

  “Why use such an obscure language for an imperial message?”

  Thane shrugged, his mind clearly absorbed in deciphering the document. “Maybe the intended recipient is from the east. I think it’s instructing someone to prepare for a great event.” He squinted at the paper a few more seconds, then frowned. “Strange, it’s addressed to someone named Alaric. Not an eastern name.” His eyes went wide as he continued reading. “Whatever the event is, it’ll happen in Fochelis. And soon! That much is clear.” He jabbed a finger at a complex symbol that appeared repeatedly in the letter. “This is the mark for next month. Whatever it is, it’s going to happen in the next few weeks. It could even be within days.” He looked at Ander with alarm in his eyes. “Our only hope is to take them by surprise. We’ll have to use everything we’ve got, make our attempt now.”

  Ander nodded. “I’ll find Lord Tolmin, tell him we have to leave immediately.”

  “We’ll take any seeds he can spare, but that’s all. Even at our best speed, the lyceum is three days’ ride, and Fochelis two more after that. We’ll barely make it before the new month.”

  And what will we do when we get there? “We’ll be in time,” Ander said with more confidence than he felt. He turned to search for Lord Tolmin, leaving Thane to finish with the zamindar’s letter.

  Chapter 11

  THE street outside Petr’s perfume shop was crowded with shoppers, revelers, entertainers, and animals. Vendors had set up carts and lined the street with food and displays of cloth, jewelry, weaponry, birds, nearly anything a person could want. Sizzling meats on charcoal grills and flatbread cooking in portable clay ovens masked the smell of dust. There were companions lounging under striped awnings, looking sultry and available. Thane went to fill their water skins and buy food, having decided they lacked the time to stop at inns on their return trip.

  Ander went into the dimly lit shop to retrieve Skorri. He paused near the door to let his eyes adjust to the shadows. The shop’s proprietor was leaning across a counter and conversing in hushed tones with a richly dressed matron. Dozens of small bottles lined the shelves behind him. The colored fluids filling them seemed faintly luminous in the muted light. Rich fragrances filled the air, like a rose garden on a humid summer day.

  He was about to approach the proprietor when he saw Skorri standing in a dark corner, close behind an attractive young man with curly black hair. He appeared to be about Skorri’s age. A large cabinet covered with finely carved panels hid them from the shopkeeper and his customer.

  Ander had no trouble guessing the nature of their discussion. He crossed the room silently and came to a stop two yards behind them. He could see that the raven-haired youth’s shirt was unbuttoned and that Skorri’s hand moved slowly beneath the loose cloth. “Take a deep breath,” Skorri murmured in his ear. “See how warm skin releases vapors from the oil?”

  The man tilted his head back and rested it on Skorri’s shoulder as his chest rose slowly in a deep breath. His eyes were closed, his lips parted. Skorri pressed against him and reached further beneath the shirt. “See how well it spreads across the skin? Especially on skin as smooth as yours.” He shivered as Skorri’s tongue traced his ear.

  “It’s as I said, isn’t it?” Skorri whispered. “The fragrance is an aphrodisiac.” His hand slipped lower, and the shirt fell open, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of muscular torso. Skorri’s hand cupped one of the large, sloping pectoral muscles. He rubbed gently and pressed the length of his body against his new companion, whose chest heaved as a shuddering sigh escaped. He was a ravishing sight. Ander thought fleetingly of how Lady Tayanita would have coveted his services.

  “The perfume suits you,” Skorri whispered. His other arm circled his new friend’s waist, pulling them firmly together. “You’re irresistible when you wear it. You’ll inflame anyone who’s near. Do you feel what you do to me?” He pushed his crotch forward, at the same time moving a hand down to cup the erection straining beneath the youth’s pants. Both men were breathing hard and fast.

  “I’m sold,” Ander said. “I’ll take two bottles.”

  Skorri jumped like he’d stepped on a hornet. For a second he looked at Ander in a daze. When he regained his bearings, he blushed crimson. The mound at his crotch verified the truth of what he had been saying. The young man, still flushed, quickly buttoned his shirt.

  Ander touched Skorri’s arm. “You’ll make a fine merchant.” He shifted his gaze to the young man, giving him a friendly nod. “Though I can see the inspiration for your effort. Who’s your new friend?”

  The youth smiled and extended his hand. “I’m Shan, apprentice to Master Petr.” They clasped each other’s forearms, holding their grips longer than was customary.

  “And I’m Ander. Unfortunately Skorri and I have to leave. We have other business that can’t be delayed.”

  Skorri rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to stop doing this to me, Ander. Leaving Shan now will break my heart.”

  “It’s not your heart that’s aching. You’ll survive.”

  Shan leaned toward Skorri and kissed him on the cheek. “Just as well we wait for another time,” he said softly. “You deserve more than a quick tumble in the back room. Com
e see me next time you visit Chanture. I’ll make your acquaintance properly and show you the city.” He briefly rubbed the soft leather covering Skorri’s erection. “I think you’ll like Chanture. And I’m certain you’ll be warmly welcomed here.” He nodded in Ander’s direction. “As would your friend.”

  “We’ll look forward to it,” Ander said sincerely. “But for now, we must go.” They left the perfumer’s shop, pausing only long enough for Skorri to shift his erection into a more comfortable position. Outside the shop, the sun beat down from a burnished blue sky. Noise and bustle surrounded them and quickly dispelled Skorri’s lust. He was soon his usual exuberant self, helping Ander scan the crowd for Thane and commenting enthusiastically on the city’s sights.

  They found him haggling with a street vendor over the price of hunter’s sausage. As soon as the transaction was completed, Thane stored the purchase in saddlebags bulging with other provisions. The trio mounted their horses and began to weave their way out of the market. Skorri gazed over his shoulder as they left the city behind.

  Thane didn’t allow them to linger. He set a fast pace until they were clear of the valley that cradled the city. As they approached the Taiga Forest, he slowed enough for the three of them to ride abreast.

  The worry on Thane’s face was plain. “The letter must mean the zamindar’s almost ready to act. I wonder if they found the crystals I hid in Pella?”

  “Maybe they had more,” Ander said. “If the zamindar has found a path to immortality, he’ll have spared no effort in collecting everything he needs.”

  “Or in defending it,” Skorri added. “Whatever you did to him last time, I bet it won’t work again.”

  “We attacked the leech through the kei itself,” Thane said. “It was a desperate tactic. We had no choice.”

  “But it worked,” Ander said as he dodged a branch. They had chosen a different route back to the lyceum, shorter but more difficult. The stone road was already narrowing. Soon the stone would turn to dirt, and the road would be little more than a trail winding through dark green pines and cypress. Though the sun was still high, the air had cooled quickly when they entered the forest.