by Scott Baron
Okay, so that’s what it is, then. I’m basically a slave version of a rich guy’s movie star friend. He’s got plenty of standing on his own, but with me he has that one thing that makes him stand out even among the other rich and powerful guys. I guess money can’t buy everything. Charlie pondered his situation a moment, his fingers gently touching the collar around his neck. On second thought, I guess in this place, money can buy it, he thought with a sigh.
They flew back in the same manner they arrived, opting to jump rather than spend days in transit in deep space. The visla was not a man to frivolously waste power, but he had obligations he had to see to, and more often than not, he chose to jump simply because his time was worth far more than anything saved by taking the scenic route.
It was impressive, Charlie thought. The man just single-handedly quelled a rebellion without breaking much of a sweat, though he had drained his claithes in the process. And these were more than just run-of-the-mill rebels. There had been mercenaries as well.
The man clearly possessed a lot of power, though how much of it was natural versus stored in his claithes and other magical devices was something Charlie simply lacked the means to assess. He had seen a few magic users cast without benefit of a konus or slaap in the past, but it was extremely rare. Using power like that was just not done if it could be avoided.
As far as he could tell, all powered beings protected their personal stores fiercely. To drain your own power was to leave yourself vulnerable. And from what he could tell, the feudal nature of the systems comprising the Council of Twenty’s conglomerate were in a constant state of flux. Vulnerable was bad.
It must be exhausting, always having to watch your back like that, he mused. And it has to be even worse when the backstabbing might be of the magical variety.
The visla stared out the window, wrapped in thought as they took off. Charlie took the moment to close his eyes for a bit of silence, leaving his patron to whatever was troubling him as they made the short trip home.
It had been a long day, he realized as they stepped off the ship to the sight of a setting sun.
All day. Wow, time flies when you’re slaughtering hundreds, Charlie mused.
“I hope you found this outing interesting, Charlie. I am glad we were able to spend a bit of time together and continue our conversation. I only wish we had been able to do so under less unpleasant circumstances,” Visla Maktan said as they left Dinuk and his men to unload the ship, while they walked back to the estate.
“It was an eye-opener, that’s for sure,” Charlie replied. “There are so many things I still haven’t seen in this galaxy.”
“I’d imagine so. Well, we have plenty of time to chat now that you are part of my household. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some things I need to attend to.”
“Of course. Thank you, Visla. It was an interesting day.”
“My pleasure, Charlie. Now go get something to eat. I’m sure Tuktuk will want to hear all about your outing.”
Visla Maktan smiled warmly and patted him on the shoulder, then turned and walked away. Charlie made his way to the kitchen and briefly filled his friend in on the happenings of the day. The visla’s use of a claithe especially caught his attention.
“A claithe? I’ve never heard of him using one before, since I’ve been here. It must have been a big problem, indeed.”
“Well, let’s just say it was over quickly, though it looks like he drained them in the process.”
“That’s the problem with claithes. Very deadly, but they take forever to charge. That’s why you’ll see slaaps used all the time, even if they’re far less powerful. They’re quick to learn and quick to charge. For him to use his claithes, I think the situation was probably quite a bit worse than he let on.”
Charlie pondered his friend’s observation. Maktan had appeared at ease, but for a moment he did seem to have stretched himself a bit thin, though he recovered quickly. Could something bigger be at play on Mester Norkal’s world? He shrugged it off. This was all new to him, so time would tell.
“All right, Tuk, I’m beat. Gonna turn in early.”
“Okay, Charlie. See you in the morning.”
Charlie headed off for his room and lay his head down despite the relatively early hour. He had something he wanted to try, and he’d be rising early to do so.
Chapter Nine
Sunrise greeted Charlie with cheerful warmth, and he welcomed another morning free from the hard training of Ser Baruud. He would begin training on his own in earnest shortly––one must always keep one’s skills sharp, his master had always said––but for today at least, he had a different mission in mind.
Charlie slid into a light pair of boots and headed out into the estate’s grounds, a small sack in his hand. An hour later, he returned to the kitchen with a few pounds of the small red berries he had noted the other day.
“Why did you gather those, Charlie? I wish you’d said something. I would have told you those really aren’t any good for eating. The flavor is weak, and there’s not much meat to the fruit,” his blue friend said.
“Nah, Tuk. I have something else in mind. If these are anything like what we have back home, you’re going to be in for a treat.”
He spent the next hour carefully peeling the fruit from the bean-looking seed inside, then soaking them in a bowl of cold water all day. He then patted them clean and lay them out to dry in the warm air circulating in one of Tuktuk’s unused ovens. A benefit of magical cookery, there was no fear of overheating or burning, and best of all, no gas bill.
The following morning he took his dried bounty and brushed off the remaining bit of flaky husk, leaving a pile of smooth, dry seeds.
“Hey, Tuk. You mind firing up one of the ovens for me?”
“Sure, but what are you doing, if you don’t mind my asking? Those won’t taste any better cooked, you know.”
“Oh, I’ve got a plan,” he replied with a grin. “And it doesn’t involve eating them.”
“So mysterious,” Tuktuk said with a laugh.
“What are you two going on about?” Magda asked when she came to fetch a tray of breakfast for Visla Maktan’s daughter, Malalia.
“Charlie’s roasting some berries from those tsokin shrubs out by the fishery pond.”
“Why would he do that? They’re decorative.”
“I know, but I humor him when I can. He’s new here, after all, and the visla wanted him to feel at home, so...”
“So you let him roast refuse in your ovens. I’ll never understand you, Tuktuk.”
“I have often been told I am an enigma.”
“If only it were that simple,” she said with a chuckle as she loaded an assortment of fresh-baked pastries onto the tray, along with two types of beverage, as well as a hearty porridge.
“All of that food for one little girl?” Charlie asked.
“She’s got an amazing metabolism, that one,” Magda replied. “And she’s not so little. Denna Maktan is nearly two decades old.”
“Wait, I thought you said she was called Malalia.”
“Yes. Denna is a title, like the lady of the house.”
“Ah, gotcha. Like how Yoral Maktan is called Visla.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. So, given the length of the solar year on this planet, that makes her about twenty-seven in Earth years,” Charlie said, his engineering mind doing a quick conversion with ease. “Why haven’t I seen her around the grounds?”
“She keeps mostly to herself, studying. I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough. Everyone wants to take a peek at the Zomoki rider, after all.”
“Great,” he grumbled, then turned his attention back to his beans, now spread evenly on a baking sheet. “Hmm. What I need is some kind of hopper to churn them while they roast.”
Tuktuk laughed. “Charlie, you don’t think I have a half dozen spells to do that for you?”
“I-I didn’t think to ask. I guess I forget you all seem to have a spell for everything.”<
br />
“I’ll leave you two to it, then,” Magda said. “Don’t burn the kitchen down while I’m gone,” she called over her shoulder.
Tuktuk set the beans roasting, gently tossing in the hot air with a simple little spell. Charlie took the time to dig through the kitchen for implements that would serve his purpose, happily singing his little tune of magic words to himself, quietly, of course, and with no fear of accidental discharge as he had no konus or powered device of any sort.
Other staff wandered in and out of the kitchen, looking at the odd human as though he were nuts as the blue cook introduced them, then explained what exactly he was roasting for his friend.
“But those taste horrible,” a stable boy said.
“Maybe,” was Charlie’s reply. “But we’ll know soon enough.”
Ten minutes into the roast, he told Tuktuk to remove the beans from the oven and let them cool for another ten.
“Technically, I should let them sit for a day to mature the flavor, but I’m feeling a little impatient. I saw you have a grinding thing over there but don’t know how to use it. Would you mind?” he asked his friend.
“Now you want me to grind them up?”
“Yes. And I need boiling water.”
“Are you attempting to cast a spell with sorcery? The visla does not allow any such thing within his walls, and––”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Just grind them, will ya? Fine, but not too fine. A coarse grind, like fine sand.”
“I get it, Charlie. You can stop saying ‘fine.’”
“Fine.”
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“So you keep telling me,” he shot back with a grin.
“All right, I’ll see what I can do,” Tuktuk said with a laugh, then dumped the still-warm beans into the device, chanting what Charlie figured was a simple grinding spell that turned the machine on. A minute later, he had an aromatic pile of what he hoped would taste somewhat like coffee.
He took a spoon and filled a fine meshed sieve with the ground beans, then placed it over a carafe.
“Well, here goes nothing. Let’s hope it works.”
He poured the boiling water over the grounds and let them soak through, slowly filling the vessel with hot, brown liquid. It smelled very much like coffee, Charlie noted.
“Okay, I’ll be the guinea pig,” he said, pouring himself a small cup when the water had finished straining through the sieve.
Charlie raised the steaming cup to his lips and inhaled, the aroma taking him back to his kitchen on Earth. Maybe, he hoped. Then, cautiously, he took a sip.
“Oh, God, yes,” he sighed with pleasure. “If this stuff isn’t poison, I think we’re in business.”
The others in the kitchen were curious about his new beverage and each took a small cup to taste. Some liked it black. Others complained it was too bitter.
“Add a little milk and some sweetener to it,” he suggested, which made the beverage far more to their liking. Also meeting with approval was the effect of the alien equivalent of caffeine. Charlie felt that coffee rush for the first time in years and couldn’t help but wonder how the alien metabolisms would handle it.
The kitchen was full of curious, caffeinated chatter when a sudden silence raced through the room.
“Denna Maktan,” Magda said with a slight bow. “I’m pleased you have come to meet your father’s newest acquisition.”
Denna Malalia Maktan was, to Charlie’s eyes, precisely what a powerful wizard’s daughter would look like. Stereotypically slender and beautiful, she possessed high cheek bones, bright eyes, and an amazing physique. He had to wonder if any of it was magically enhanced.
“I’m Charlie Gault,” he said, offering his hand in greeting.
A few staff gasped at his forward gesture, but Malalia seemed charmed by it.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she said, gently taking his offered hand. “My father has talked much of his new gladiator pet. But what are you doing in the kitchen? I would have taken you for one to be exercising in the fields, perhaps trying to kill some wild beast.”
“Well, I try not to go on killing rampages before breakfast, Denna Maktan––”
“Please, call me Malalia.”
“Okay, Malalia. Anyway, I was just serving up some coffee to the gang here. It’s not exactly like we have on my home world, but it’s pretty darn close. Would you care to try some?”
“The denna does not drink with the help,” Magda chastised him, grunting her disapproval.
“Oh, hush, Magda. Father is not here,” she retorted, picking up one of the small cups on the counter.
“I have to warn you, it can seem a little bitter at first,” Charlie informed her.
“Many things worthwhile do,” she replied, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
She was a magic user, and if she was even half as powerful as her father, she could be a force to be reckoned with. Even so, Charlie found himself more than a little taken with her.
She sipped the steaming black liquid and swirled the new flavor in her mouth, savoring every aspect of its bouquet. A second later, sparks briefly buzzed from her fingertips, quite unintentionally.
“Oh my,” she said, a slight flush rising to her cheeks. “This is a wonderful discovery. And you did this all by yourself?”
“Well, no. Tuktuk helped me prepare it.”
“Nonsense. All I did was fire up the ovens and grind it for him. This was all Charlie’s idea,” Tuktuk said, selflessly putting all of the credit on his friend’s shoulders.
“Well, Charlie. This is magnificent. And do you think you can make more of this enchanting elixir?”
“I don’t see why not. This was just a test batch to see how it would come out. With a little practice, we could probably get a better roast and smooth the flavor somewhat.”
“Excellent. Then this is now one of your new duties in this household. Ensure we have this––what did you call it, again?”
“Coffee.”
“Yes. Ensure we have this coffee in the house at all times. Magda, I would have this with breakfast in the morning. It certainly seems to help my powers awaken from the night’s slumber.”
She smiled warmly at Charlie, making his stomach flutter just a little.
“I can see why my father likes you, Charlie. He says you are a most unusual and inspiring man. And I am now of the same opinion.”
Chapter Ten
The servants were normally exceptionally efficient at their tasks, keeping the estate and surrounding grounds in perfect order. Abuzz with Charlie’s new discovery––and its magic-enhancing abilities––the staff soon began finding themselves with additional downtime as the caffeinated men and women flew through their chores with newfound vigor.
Charlie just enjoyed the almost-forgotten feeling of sitting in the morning sun, sipping a hot cup of coffee and eating a pastry. Tuktuk had taken to joining him for a little break, and the two unlikely friends shared tales and laughs every morning for a week before their routine was interrupted by Magda one day.
“Of course I’ll talk to him,” Charlie had said when, as she passed through the kitchen, she mentioned a problem that Hertzall, the head groundskeeper’s, was having. “Why don’t you ask him when is convenient for him and I’ll see what I can do. I have to warn you, though, I’m not a botanist. I’m just an engineer and gladiator.”
“I still don’t really understand this engineer thing you call yourself, but you’ve a way with plants. We’ve all seen––and enjoyed––how what had been merely a decorative shrubbery was transformed into this wonderful concoction,” she said as she stole a sip of Tuktuk’s coffee.
“Hey!” he protested in jest.
She replied with a sly smile.
“I’ll let him know you’ll speak with him. And thank you, Charlie. Hertzall is a bit of an odd fellow, but he’s a good man, and he’s been here most of his life. It’ll do him good talking with you, even if you can’t help him. But I have a sneaking
suspicion you can.”
Shortly thereafter, a plainly clothed man with a hazelnut complexion and amber eyes haltingly approached Charlie and Tuktuk while they chatted.
“You must be Hertzall,” Charlie said cheerfully. “Coffee?”
Hertzall’s discomfort at talking with a new person was apparent, but it cleared quickly after his first mouthful of the offered beverage.
“It’s amazing, really,” he said, a fog lifting from his eyes. “And to think, this has been growing on these grounds for so many years and no one ever thought to try this with their seeds.”
“Well, to be fair, it was already a thing where I come from. I just noticed it looked like a familiar plant, and that was only because I spent one sleepless night surfing through videos online.”
“On what line? Like for fishing?”
“No, it’s––nevermind. It’s a thing from home. Anyway, Magda tells me you had a problem you wanted to see if I could help you with. I’d be glad to try, but I’m no botanist.”
“Well, if you’d just take a look,” the groundskeeper said, turning toward the fields.
“Oh, we’re going right now?” Charlie said, flashing Tuktuk a regretful look.
His blue friend suppressed a chuckle and merrily shrugged his shoulders with an amused look in his eyes.
“Right. No time like the present, I suppose.”
The two men set off at a brisk walk. Hertzall wasn’t one to dawdle, though his pace slowed to an absolute crawl when he noted something on the grounds warranting further attention. Such was his focus, and Charlie began to understand why he had a hard time interacting with the others. But despite Hertzall’s oddness, he found himself rather fond of the man.
“This here is the problem,” the groundskeeper said, pointing to a small grove of trees whose leaves were turning color, but in an unhealthy, spotted way. “Visla Maktan has supplied me with the finest spells to make them grow, and grow they do. But for some reason, they’re doing this.”
Charlie picked a leaf from the nearest tree and studied it a moment. He was not a plant expert by any means, but this actually looked a little familiar, like something his parents had dealt with on their land when he was a boy.
