by D. L. Carter
Or perhaps it was not so much the spells, or the illustration in appendix six – The Location of One Hundred and Seventeen Erotic Sensitive Areas of the Female Form – (which had been of particular interest to Eioth). Who knew that some women preferred the stimulation of the area behind their knees, the instep of their feet, and the back of their necks? Ears? The palm of the hand? Back of the thigh? Why not say the whole body and be done?
Now he could think of nothing but performing the described spells with a certain mortal female currently asleep in a room on the other side of the inn. There would have to be a time soon for him to examine her body and find out which of the one hundred and seventeen areas was her preference or he would expire of sexual frustration!
He closed his eyes for a moment. The vision came to him instantly and with astonishing clarity. Halidan reclining beside him on his bed. Her eyes half closed and lips parted in invitation as his hands cupped and worshiped her proud breasts. Her back arched, pressing the tight nipple into the palm of his hand. Accepting her offering, he leaned forward to capture her breast with his mouth, drawing it deep into his warmth. She moved beneath him, her moans the sweetest music. Her eyes fluttered open and a welcoming smile touched her lips as she opened her legs to receive him.
The sound of his own groan surprised him.
Elements! If only she were here now. Here. In this bed. Sex Magic be damned. He wanted sex! He gripped the sheets commanding his body to rest. There was no possibility that she would acquiesce in the near future. He should put the book away and cease the torment.
He would be honest with himself, if no one else. It was no longer only the prospect of researching the different form of magic that drew his attention – he had no immediate need to do long distance scrying, or locate iron ore deposits, but the postures and positions required for those spells? Those he wanted to practice with Halidan.
Often.
Now!
The degree of his attraction to the mortal surprised him. From the first moment in the mortuary chapel he had experienced the strangest urge to protect, to comfort and ease her spirit. It was odd since no person, Elf or mortal, had stirred such sensations in him before that moment.
He had no objections to experiencing lust, it was merely unfamiliar. And if natural courtesy and respect required he wait until a reasonable period of grieving was over, there was no harm in that. He could be patient. He would wait until Halidan was willing. He would survive. It would be painful, but he would survive if he could be confident in her eventual consent.
Some of his current discomfort was due to the thought of a thwarted orgasm. For himself, he knew of no gift or reward that would prevent him from strangling anyone who'd stolen that instant at the peak of pleasure when the body rose to shatter and become one with the stars. Shifting restlessly in his bed, he contemplated the magic scientifically, since practical application could not begin until Halidan was willing and prepared.
He did have some concerns regarding this branch of magic. There was nothing in the ritual he'd just read that said that the magician had to sacrifice his orgasm to the spell, just his partner's. Was that sacrifice implied? Would two sacrificed organisms be stronger than one? In the spells where the partner's orgasm was the trigger, the author, whoever he was, specified that the greater the stimulation of the partner and prolongation of the raising of energy, the more powerful the resultant magic, and all that without saying if the magician was permitted to enjoy himself as well.
There were notes on the importance of concentration on the work at hand, a description of the gathering and storing of power, a few comments on the various easily accessible places on the body that a partner might find particularly stimulating given certain postures, but nothing about the magician’s pleasure. Considering that a thwarted orgasm would make someone irritable he imagined losing your orgasm and watching someone else have one would only increase the resultant irritation.
Eioth picked up the Essay and tucked it safely away for the night. He would have to make careful records of his experiments and questions. Obviously, the author had not considered that his work would be read by someone completely ignorant of the practice of Sex Magic. Maybe he should give the book to Halidan to read and catalog. Given her blushing reaction to such a mild tale as The Adventures of Norfarland, perhaps not.
Not yet. And thus he was back to the problem of Halidan's reluctance. What was the proper technique to bring a girl to agreement, to consent to sex? Norfarland, lucky bastard that he was in all his books, seemed to have no difficulty with seduction. He needed only gaze upon a woman, be she young or ancient, and she was his willing accomplice in seeking some private place in which to join.
But, Eioth's experience was somewhat different. His interactions with females now seemed limited. In the past, he'd encouraged his employees in the pursuit of knowledge and yet, Eioth had read every single episode of Norfarland's lecherous life without learning a single seductive maneuver. With hope, elsewhere in the building the woman he'd selected was giving serious thought to accepting and returning his interest. Eioth ran one finger down his aching arousal and that touch almost brought tears of pain to his eyes. How long did a courtship have to take anyway?
What would reach Halidan? In her manner and speech she was refined and gentle. There was nothing excessive in the decorations of her clothing, nor did she appear to be the type of female who needed a great deal of attention from admiring throngs. No, that would not be her manner, not and survive as a servant in a Mid Court Elven household. Eioth tried to imagine Halidan dressed in high and elaborate garb with jewels dripping from her ears. No, that vision would not form.
His mind's eye kept returning to the image of her seated naked on his lap, arms outstretched. Shaking his head, Eioth dismissed money as a seductive tool. Her thoughtful assessment of her previous employers, her honest acknowledgment of previous good treatment to balance the ill, told him that great status and power would not move her, either.
What did she need that she did not currently have? Her father was dead and according to her papers she had no other family. Her mother had long ago divorced both husband and child and left to take employment in some other House. He could search for the woman and offer to reunite mother and child, but what would that gain him? The mother had not judged the child worth the effort of taking her. Expecting maternal love now was unreasonable.
Thus, it was not in his power to give her a family. She was in pain at this moment, caught in her grief, but he could neither remove the pain nor solve the cause. Poor Halidan was as bereft of family as the famous Norfarland. Eioth frowned and examined his memory. In all The Adventures of Norfarland, if someone wanted him to do something he was offered money or . . . better yet, the hope of a home. A place of his own, someplace he could not be forced to give up. Indeed, at least three times he had earned such a place only to lose it one way or another in the next book which sent him off on another adventure.
Just a few days ago that damned Mid Court family had cast Halidan out of their home and she had no recourse but to leave with nowhere to go, alone in an unfamiliar world. Alone, helpless, and friendless. Smiling to himself Eioth ran his fingers down his body, soothing and promising. The solution was obvious. He would offer Halidan security, safety, a home. With him.
* * *
Halidan paused at the door leading to her suite’s dining room, ran one hand nervously down her skirts and settled her scarf securely over her newly shorn hair. She’d chosen the plainest of all the travel costumes and for the first time in three days she was grateful not to have any of the costumes she’d worn in House Pitchuri. Those had too closely mimicked Elven styles. Her travel gear looked closer to mortal fashion. Satisfied she’d done the best she could with what was available she picked up the box of books she'd worked on the previous evening.
Sheer curiosity as well as the desire to distract her mind from the High Lord's odd proposal kept her reading until very late in the night. Despite her boast that sh
e taught Ritual Magic to children, she'd only ever read the one book on the subject, so it was fascinating to read discussions of the individual characteristics of the Elements and stories about the lives of Magicians. Sleep, when it came, was peaceful and free of any thought of Lord Eioth. However, when she opened her eyes this morning his interest was the first thing she'd remembered and she'd realized she could not continue in his employment for any length of time.
She was prepared for this morning's meeting with the High Lord. She’d rehearsed her resignation speech until she was certain that she'd be able to complete it without blushing or stuttering. Her papers were in her sash and she'd taken those few clothes that she originally owned out of the travel case and wrapped them into an easy to carry bundle which now rested just inside the door of her bedchamber. The High Lord's books were neatly packed, ready to return to him.
She'd go in, head held high, hand over the books, resign, and run as fast as she could. Where she wasn't yet certain, but away, that was the important thing. Away. Far away. She pushed the door open and stopped on the threshold. Within was Mitash, plate piled high with breakfast breads and meats, and no one else.
“Halidan! Bright the morning blessed with your presence,” declared Mitash, saluting her with his fork. “Punctual as before. I bask in the delight of your timekeeping.”
“Bright morning, Mitash.” Halidan glanced about the room as if expecting to find the High Lord hiding behind the curtains.
“Ah! You seek our employer. He woke me early this morning to announce he had an important issue to discuss with the local Earth Master. We are to travel on as planned and he shall rejoin us later.”
“Oh.” Halidan halted in the middle of the room uncertain what to do next. All her courage gathered for no purpose. The High Lord was not here to listen to her speech and set her free.
“Halidan, please sit down. Eat. I begin to suspect you are still not awake.” Mitash poured out some tea and once Halidan was seated passed it to her. “We have time for a leisurely breakfast. My information is that the Ladies Worind have only just risen.”
She wasn't hungry. The unsaid speech sat like a stone in her stomach and threatened to cast out any food she took in. Mitash, however, misunderstood the reason for her lack of appetite.
“You need not fear meeting with the Ladies Worind. The High Lord has spoken to them and brought them a good understanding of their error. They will not dare to repeat it. As Lord Eioth said to me this morning, he considers that he has a shared responsibility to teach them better manners. Who knows, one day one of his acquaintance might be married to one of them.” Mitash shuddered theatrically.
“They are very young,” said Halidan.
“And likely not to get much older should they offend the High Lord in that manner, again.” Mitash frowned and waved to the other plate. “Come, Halidan, you must eat. If not, then I shall consume all this myself and my horse will flee my presence.”
Halidan shook her head, but he was not discouraged. She watched without comment while Mitash pushed loaded plates toward her. Just to silence him on the subject, she took a little meat onto her plate and fussed about cutting it into smaller and smaller pieces.
“What are you reading at the moment?” inquired Mitash.
Halidan's head came up, her eyes widening. How much did Mitash know about the High Lord's interest in her? About the book he had demanded she read?
“You should become accustomed to the question. You will hear it at every meal you share with the High Lord.” At Halidan's confused look, Mitash continued. “Oh, do not imagine you are the only person that the High Lord has hired to read for him. I cannot tell you the number of times he has quizzed my appetite out of me about some piece of information or other. Has he warned you yet about marking your place?”
“Yes. Yes, I started last night,” she waved one hand toward the sideboard. “I used ribbons and wrote a few words on them to remind me why I found it interesting. When the High Lord examines the books he’ll . . .” Her voice faded away. She wasn’t certain why she’d marked the books so carefully when she was quite determined to reject her employment.
“Good. Good,” said Mitash. “If one could be said to pity one of such exalted rank, I would pity the High Lord. To be truly happy, he would spend all his hours like some esoteric sage of old locked up in a tower far from distractions. As long as he had food and books he would be content. But as the demands upon his time are many, he has his close companions read for him. I advise you, Halidan, never answer you have read nothing since last you spoke with him. Not even if you have been riding hard from breakfast to supper. If nothing else, say you've read the road signs. Nothing short of blindness will be an acceptable excuse for answering nothing.”
Halidan nodded. Such information would be important if she was planning on remaining in the High Lord's employ. Perhaps she should advise Mitash of her intention to leave so that he might spare himself giving this advice.
“Don't worry if it turns out that you've just read a book he knows and remembers well,” continued Mitash. “He likes to discuss impressions. Therefore, we return to my original question. What are you reading at the moment?”
Halidan considered the copy of The Adventures currently wrapped inside her bundle of clothing. It was a gift with her name in the provenance page. She was taking it with her for the resale price alone or so she kept telling herself. She needed no memento of the last few days as every second was indelibly seared into her brain. But given that Mitash was a man, she was hardly likely to admit to reading such a thing to him. A blush stained her cheeks at the very thought. Fortunately, she had a truth to use as answer.
“I have been working on the books the High Lord purchased. The sensible things. I haven't been entirely wasting my time with nonsense books. Fiction and the like. He has bought many books on magic.”
“Oh, Elements, Halidan, do not be ashamed of fiction. I assure you that the High Lord reads it as well.”
“But, I am still uncertain how he expects me to learn things for him. It is not as if what I read with my eyes will transfer to his mind!”
“Well, tell me what you are reading now and I'll tell you how to assess it for his interest.”
Halidan tried desperately to remember the title of a book, any book that she'd read the previous night. . .or ever, but all had escaped her memory. Eventually, ears burning with shame she admitted. “Norfarland.”
“Norfarland! Now that brings back memories.” He glanced over to Halidan and saw color climbing her cheeks. “There is no reason to blush, I have been aware of the Adventures of Norfarland for years.”
“It is new to me.”
“Ah, ha? Really? Well, welcome to the world of Norfarland. You will find your journeys with him enjoyable. There must always be a first. Which one holds your attention now?”
“He. . .The High Lord gifted me with a copy of the ninth.”
“The ninth? Excellent. If I recall correctly, that is the one wherein Norfarland pretends to be his friend who has eloped with an unworthy woman and now Norfarland is in danger of being married off under an assumed name or some such thing. How far have you read?”
Halidan’s blush deepened. “Not far.”
Her embarrassment only seemed to further amuse Mitash.
“Oh, please, do not worry. Everyone I know has read these books. They've been around for centuries and are a very good example of a book you should read for the High Lord.”
Considering that Lord Eioth had expressed an interest in her, Halidan did not find that thought comforting. “I don't believe this is the sort of book I should like to read on his behalf.”
Mitash ignored her comment. “The first Norfarland book, do you have any idea how old it is?”
“No. I admit I have not yet examined the book properly for cataloging.”
“Over six hundred years.”
“Really?” Halidan stared. Not the oldest book she'd ever read, but a respectable age. “Who wrote it?”
“No one knows. In fact, we know that there must be more than one author of the books. Elves live a long time, but even we would find it difficult to live and write for so long. Or so many.”
“How many?”
“Let me think,” Mitash speared some meat from his dish and chewed thoughtfully. “Yes. I have forty-one Adventures on my shelves, although I have heard a rumor that another story is expected to be imprinted soon. None of my copies are first editions, you understand. The High Lord pays me well, but not that well.”
“Forty-one!”
“Written over a six hundred year period. You will, as you go through the series, realize that they must be written by different authors. It is all a great, deep secret who wrote the books and if you ever find out who is the current author the High Lord will reward you greatly.”
“I had never thought that more than one author could write the same book.”
“There, you see, you have learned something today. The High Lord would be pleased.”
Halidan stared down at her food and there was silence for a while. Halidan affected not to notice Mitash's intense stare. It was true she had never considered her own attractiveness while living in the same house as her father. The High Lord had been correct in that. Her father's presence and the Matriarch's tight control over the Household kept all suitors at bay. Now she was being subjected to the interest of the High Lord and Mitash was looking at her with more attention than she was comfortable with.
At her first opportunity, she'd have to get some clothing more appropriate for the role she'd like to fulfill. Maybe a tent to cover her down to the ground! Or a solid wood overcoat.
Since that was neither sensible nor practical she put the thought aside. She would have to deal with the High Lord's interest another way. Leaving it far behind in the dust was a good start.