Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  “Not tonight,” Hal repeated.

  “What about your heartgem?” asked Zoria. “It seems a waste for you, the Heart Holder, to let potential essence go unclaimed.”

  Hal still had the heartgem around his neck, under his shirt. He pulled it out and was surprised to see that a faint red glow had rekindled within it.

  “Looks like I have at least a spell or two,” said Hal. “I can make do with that.”

  With the last of his willpower, he turned his back to her. Zoria let out an annoyed sigh and slowly slithered out of the bag, standing naked in front of the fire for a time and daring him to look at her body. Hal knew if he did, the last of his resolve would crumble. So he shut his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

  CHAPTER 10

  For the rest of the journey, the traveling party reached a tense, but manageable equilibrium. Laurel and Zoria shared a horse, and the bickering between the two of them never really stopped. However, it did eventually shift into an almost conversational tone, something the two of them kept up in place of silence without really putting their hearts into it.

  The most difficult aspect of the trip for Hal was how Zoria insisted on teasing him at every opportunity. The close confines of their camping sites left her with ample opportunity to sneak into his sleeping bag, or randomly sit in his lap. Hal’s resolve stretched thin, and each time Zoria got a little bit closer to pushing him over the hot, red line.

  The worst was when the party stopped one afternoon by the river to bathe. Laurel and Zoria returned to their campsite with wet bodies under their thin tunics. Zoria insisted on changing into dry clothing in the open, and took her time before finally pulling her garments on.

  Somehow, he managed to keep himself in line, and during the afternoon of the sixth day, Meldence finally came into view. The city looked impressive even from a distance, with a sprawling variety of architectural styles mixed together in a melting pot of culture.

  It was clear enough to Hal that it had been built up over the ages, slowly expanded by folk of all economic classes. There were plenty of grand estates made of expensive wood, glass, and polished brick, but there were also tall stone towers, mud and thatch hovels, improvised scrap wood shanties, and everything in between.

  The stone wall that encircled the core of the city ran along such a haphazard path that it seemed to mirror the handiwork of a blind rancher, bulging out in some places for no clear reason, and cutting back in at others to run flush against a group of buildings. The area around Meldence was flat and fertile, and the farms were situated no more than a stone’s throw apart from each other, growing corn, cotton and wheat.

  Just beyond Meldence was the massive, sea sized lake from which the entire realm took its name. Hal had read about Lake Krestia in some of the old tomes in Roth’s library, from the time before the region was cut off from the rest of the Collected Provinces.

  True, his information was over two hundred years old, but he guessed it was probably still accurate enough. It was said that the lake was said to be incredibly deep and rich with fish and other creatures, including several legendary sea monsters that would pull under any who dared to swim out too far.

  “Wow,” said Laurel. “I can’t believe it’s been two years since I was last here.”

  The road they traveled was teaming with other travelers, from bag carrying peasants, to guarded wagons and richly dressed nobles leaning out of carriages. Hal directed his horse to fall in a little closer to Toothy, Laurel, and Zoria.

  “Did you grow up in Meldence?” asked Hal.

  Laurel nodded.

  “My father owned a small estate, at least until his debts began to pile up,” she said. “It was nice enough, I guess. There’s no other city in the realm with as much to do within it as Meldence. It’s where everything happens.”

  “What’s the story behind it?” he asked. “Is it a trade city, or more of a provincial capital, or…?”

  “It’s both,” said Laurel. “But it wasn’t always so. The power used to lay in Ostreach, back when the oceans were navigable, and the Sand Way still connected Krestia to the Lost Provinces. Meldence was more of a city along the route between, rather than an important location of its own.”

  “I see,” said Hal.

  “The Sand Way dried up around the same time the ocean storms became too intense for frequent trading with the far islands,” said Laurel. “Krestia’s history becomes a little insular, after that. Meldence slowly grew more influential due to the resources of the lake and the fertility of the land around it. The towns and cities to the north were also dependent on shipping their crops and goods across the lake, meaning Meldence effectively had a stranglehold on the realm’s economy.”

  “I assume it took advantage of that benefit?” asked Hal.

  “It’s part of the reason why such tension exists now between Maxim Cedric and High Lord Proctor,” said Laurel. “The people in each of their cities, especially the nobles, have a long memory for this sort of thing.”

  “And how does the Temple of Lyris fit into all of this?” asked Hal.

  He’d been curious about the Temple ever since Cadrian had first explained to him how they were the main arbiters of gem magic within Krestia’s Cradle.

  I wonder what would happen if they discovered I had the heartgem?

  “Well that’s where it gets really complicated,” said Laurel. “The Temple is a power separate from the three main Great Houses. Almost all of the nobles who inherit gemstones spend some time in the Matron’s Tower, on the island in the center of Lake Krestia. It’s where they study the Temple’s doctrine and train their magic. A significant number remain loyal to the Temple, some even leaving their families in all but name to serve the Keeper.”

  “But the Temple of Lyris supports the Maxim?” asked Hal. “And he’s kind of like the king, or whatever, of your realm?”

  Laurel frowned at his words, but nodded in agreement.

  “Essentially,” she said. “Though like I said, it isn’t a simple arrangement. Many of the common people hold Lyris and the Five in greater esteem than the nobles they pay taxes to. The Maxim and the Keeper have had disputes before about a variety of issues. The situation at the moment is… fairly tense.”

  “You surfacers,” said Zoria. “It’s cute that you play politics with such intricacy. Cute, and pointless.”

  “Right,” said Hal. “Because we’re all just surface cows and bulls. And your people have reached enlightenment up on your magic sky island.”

  Laurel giggled. Hal had explained her what he’d seen on his flight with Aangavar several times over, until she’d finally come to believe in the existence of the Upper Realm. Hal was a little surprised to see Zoria blushing on the horse behind her, and wondered if the fact that a surfacer had just mocked her might be more of an embarrassment than he realized. She’d pulled her hood up to hide her distinctive elven ears, but he could still see her glaring at him in annoyance underneath it.

  There was a small queue of people waiting at the city’s front gate. Each group presented itself to the guards, who recorded names and occasionally had a wagon pull off to the side to be searched for contraband.

  “I’m Lady Laurel Ancina, returning from my southern estate at the Maxim’s request to attend the Harvest Tournament,” said Laurel, when it was finally their turn.

  “Milady,” said the guard captain, giving a small bow. “You’re free to pass.”

  Two guards with spears waved them through, and Hal rode his horse alongside Laurel and Zoria as they entered the loud, vibrant city. Just beyond the gate were a number of small merchant stalls, along with a sprawling ward of stables. A few peasants were begging for coin on the side of the street, though none of them had the courage to do more than hold their hands out as the party passed on their horses.

  The beggars drew Hal’s attention to something curious that he almost overlooked at a glance. The center of Meldence’s streets appeared to be reserved for the upper, or at least upper-middle classes
of citizens. Confident, well dressed nobles and merchants walked down the broad center streets, while poorly dressed peasants stuck to the edges, which were dirtier and occasionally strewn with refuse.

  “Is there a rule about nobles getting to walk down the center of the street?” asked Hal.

  Laurel cocked an eyebrow at him. She looked around and frowned, as though noticing what he’d just pointed out for the first time.

  “No…” she said, considering. “There’s no rule. That would be silly. It’s just… the way things are here.”

  “Huh,” said Hal.

  It was different from the Collected Provinces in other ways, too, but not so different that Hal didn’t feel comfortable. It reminded him of some of the paintings he’d seen of his native province from before smithing was industrialized, and nails became cheap enough to standardize building methods. Each house, hovel, store, and inn had its own specific charm, and there was little rhyme or reason to the way the sprawling streets intersected.

  “This is where we part,” said Zoria, pulling Hal from his thoughts. “I have things to attend to, here.”

  She’d been vague about her reasons for coming to Meldence when Hal had asked, and he’d given up on discovering her purpose for accompanying them to the city. He nodded and flashed her a quick smile.

  “Goodbye, Zoria,” he said. “Be safe.”

  “And you as well,” said Zoria. “We will see each other again, master.”

  She winked at him, setting her lips into a sarcastic smirk. Laurel muttered something that only vaguely sounded like a goodbye, and Zoria blew her a mocking kiss in return. She didn’t stand out overly much with her hood up, and nobody paid her much notice as she slipped off Laurel’s horse.

  “Alright,” said Hal. “So where to now? Do you have an estate here in the city?”

  Laurel shook her head, looking somewhat embarrassed.

  “My father lost most of my family’s fortune shortly before he passed,” she said. “My brother and I stayed in one of the Maxim’s guest lodges, back when we were still in his favor. He would expect me to head there upon entering the city, so… I guess that’s where we’ll go.”

  She sounded unsure and more than a little nervous.

  “Are you okay?” asked Hal.

  Laurel took a deep breath. Her hand rubbed at her scar, fidgeting across a spot at the bottom where there was still a hint of a scab.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just been a very long time since I’ve last been here.”

  CHAPTER 11

  Laurel led him toward the center of the city without making any stops. The entire time, Hal’s eyes roamed, taking in scene after scene. He saw a group of vagabond children running at top speed through an alleyway, all of them carrying what he could only assume to be stolen loaves of bread. He saw a tavern full to the brim of early evening drinkers, a large group of them singing a song about a fisherman’s daughter that carried out into the street.

  “There’s so much life here,” said Hal. It was an obvious statement, but Meldence felt so different from Lorne. The small community feel of the tiny desert outpost paled in comparison with the sprawling, crowded anonymity of the capital city.

  “They say that if you have money, there’s no need that goes unmet in Meldence,” said Laurel. “Unfortunately, the opposite’s also true. If you don’t have money here, you’re basically on your own.”

  The two rode their horses toward the city’s central castle, and for a moment, Hal thought Laurel was going to lead them up to its gates. They veered off around its side at the last second, bringing the horses to the stables, where several young stablemen greeted them and helped them with their wagon.

  The castle itself was a massive structure, taller than any of the other buildings and was crafted from heavy stone blocks. The area around it was obviously redeveloped, the original homes and hovels destroyed and replaced with longhouses, storage buildings, guard’s barracks, and a couple of guest lodges, which Laurel led him toward.

  The guest lodges were all nearly identical, and each one was easily twice the size of Laurel’s modest cabin back in Fool’s Valley. She picked one seemingly at random and pulled the door open, gesturing for Hal to follow her inside. There was a long hallway within, with door after door leading to separate guest chambers.

  “Yua?” called Laurel.

  Footsteps came from the other end of the hallway. Hal saw a woman round the corner carrying a lantern, with a small frown on her face. She wore a dress and had a wiry build, with dark brown hair and a certain ageless quality about her. A few wrinkles creased the area around her eyes, but she could have as easily been thirty as fifty.

  “Lady Laurel…” The woman rushed forward, setting her lantern down on the table next to the door and pulling Laurel into a tight hug. “Lady Laurel! Oh, Mystra bless us, I can’t believe it!”

  “I am so glad to be back!” whispered Laurel. “I was worried you’d been reassigned!”

  “I wouldn’t let that old oaf Cedric do something like that,” said Yua. “And I made him keep your room just how you left it, though you took most of your things with you.”

  “Thank you,” said Laurel. The hug went on for several more seconds before the two women finally parted.

  It was only then that Yua noticed Laurel’s scar. She let out a tiny, wordless cry and cupped her hand over Laurel’s cheek.

  “Lady Laurel…” she said, in a pained voice. “Oh, my poor girl! I told that damned fool that sending you off to that evil valley would be the death of you! What has happened?”

  “It’s okay,” said Laurel, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. “Really, it is. It doesn’t hurt, and… it could have been so much worse.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second,” said Yua. “My poor girl. By the Five, it’s enough of a relief for you to be alive, and back again.”

  Yua seemed to notice Hal for the first time, and she waved a dismissive hand at him, apparently assuming he was a stableman who’d escorted Laurel across the grounds.

  “Oh, right,” said Laurel. “Yua, this is Halrin. He’s my new serv… uh, I mean, bodyguard.”

  “Bodyguard…” Yua gave Hal a skeptical look. “He doesn’t look like he’s got the muscle on him to be much of one.”

  “If it weren’t for him…” Laurel’s hand went to her cheek, and Yua’s eyes widened slightly as she understood, without needing to be told.

  “Oh,” she said. “Of course. Where are my manners? I’ll have a room next to yours prepared for him. Halrin is more than welcome.”

  Laurel smiled, and Yua reached out to brush a few strands of her blonde bangs out of her face, letting out a sigh that sounded a little motherly.

  “You picked a good time to come back, my dear,” said Yua. “The Harvest Tournament is going to be one for the ages. Maxim Cedric is offering a grand prize of 1000 gold.”

  “A thousand gold?” asked Laurel. Yua nodded.

  “Warriors from all around the realm are coming to enter,” she said. “There are some rumors that the Maxim is using it as an excuse to recruit for the militia. I can only hope that it’s not in anticipation of the skirmishes with High Lord Proctor’s men starting back up.”

  Laurel nodded, but Hal could tell that her mind was elsewhere.

  “Yua, I know it’s probably unnecessary for me to ask, but…” Laurel bit her lower lip and glanced away. “Have you word of my brother?”

  Yua’s face filled with pain. She pulled Laurel into yet another hug, this time cradling her head against her bosom.

  “I’ve not,” she said, her voice faint and fraught with worry. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” said Laurel. “I’m sure… he’s still okay.”

  Neither woman said anything for at least a minute. Hal leaned against the wall of the hallway, trying to act his role as a bodyguard to avoid showing how awkward he felt.

  “I should be helping the two of you get ready,” said Yua. “Maxim Cedric will send for you the m
oment he hears that you’ve arrived. You’ll want to be clean if you’re heading to an audience with him.”

  “Thank you, Yua,” said Laurel. “I can’t tell you how much it means for you to be here.”

  Yua smiled at her and blinked several times.

  “And it means the same for me to have you back,” she said. “You’ve been missed, my dear.”

  The guest lodge had more than one bathing chamber, and Yua tasked a couple of servants with carrying warm water for the tubs. Hal climbed into the one he’d been provided after it was full, letting out a glorious sigh as the heat soothed injuries he hadn’t realized he had.

  There was a small hand mirror, a sharp knife, and a razor. The first thing Hal did was give himself a much-needed shave. His hair had grown out over the past month, and he considered giving it a cut before deciding against it. He could always just tie it back, if he needed to.

  He was in the middle of scrubbing himself with the provided washcloth and soap when the door to the bathing chamber opened and Yua walked in. Hal shoved his hands underwater, his face flushing at his exposed state, but Yua didn’t seem to care.

  “I’m just here to help you get cleaned up, young man,” she said. “It’s part of my job.”

  “Uh, okay,” said Hal.

  “Laurel tells me that you were a traveler before you came into her service,” said Yua. “From a far-off land.”

  I guess that’s technically accurate.

  “Yeah,” said Hal. “She’s done a lot for me. I was in pretty bad shape when I first showed up on her doorstep.”

  “Mmm,” said Yua. She pulled up a chair to sit directly behind Hal in the wash tub. “Tell me, Halrin. What are your intentions with her?”

  Hal culled his first reaction, not letting himself pointlessly take offense to the tone of Yua’s question. Instead, he took a couple of seconds to consider what she was really asking.

  “I had a… younger sister once,” said Hal. “She passed on.”

  Yua was silent. She had a bowl with her, and pushed Hal’s head forward, gently scooping water up from the tub and dumping it onto his head.