Thorel looked at him as if he'd said the Moon was square. “Why would boys lie with boys?”
“Some men like men better,” Nigel said as a matter of fact.
“That's strange,” Thorel said, reading the paper.
“Where did you grow up? How could you not know that?” Nigel hissed.
“A farm two days west of the Hold of Handal,” Thorel whispered back.
“And where the heck is Handal?” Nigel asked, looking at him in surprise.
“Five days northwest of here,” Thorel replied quietly.
“Wow... you're going to need my help more than I thought!” Nigel breathed.
“Mr. Tangarth? Is this student disturbing you?” The Headmaster called out.
“No, Master, he isn't,” Thorel replied.
“Very well,” the ancient man returned to the work on his desk.
“Is he disturbing you?” Nigel said under his breath in a mocking tone.
Thorel shook his head and attended the task at hand, as he always did.
* * *
Sitting at the polished cedar desk in her Audience chamber, Ari looked questioningly to Siri. Siri was the head of her Holds Stewards and asked: “What was his name, again?”
The older woman with a shaved pate replied, “Lord Torak Guithenus, Mistress.”
Siri was by far the most valuable of her sworn holders. She was tall for a woman (though not as tall as she was) and slender. She wore a gauzy sleeveless white dress with slits on the sides that nearly reached her buttocks, and no shoes. Beneath it she wore a white cloth wrap to cover her modest bust and a short white skirt to keep from being indecent. While she was old enough to be Ari's mother, she was quite fit for any age as evinced by her well-toned muscles. She'd told Ari early in their relationship that she enjoyed the distraction her outfit created for undisciplined people that were interested in women.
It was a weapon Ari envied, but one that she would never be able to wield herself with the scars she bore on her body.
“He came here?” Ari closed her eyes, and she pictured his Hold on the map. It sat nearly one-hundred miles to the east on the Coast of Pearls. “Chief pearl trader of the realm. He has thirteen sloops, two brigantines, and dozens of smaller ships. He has a garrison of thirty-thousand soldiers? Population 168,573 at last census?” Ari recited.
“Yes, Mistress. However, according to my sources, the garrison has grown to nearly thirty-two-thousand. I have reason to believe the Crown's census is short by approximately five-thousand. My sources indicate the production cannot be accounted for by the reported number of workers, Milady,” Siri said concisely.
“Does he have steam or hydro machines to perform tasks?” Ari queried.
“No, Milady. No engineers, except those with clockwork and shipwright skills, exist there. Although the Guild of Shipwrights in that Hold sets the standard for all others,” she replied.
“They still could have studied it, even without a degree,” Ari said with a frown.
“Even if they did Mistress, the machines would be inferior. The energy created by the water wheels is accounted for, and steam power is easy to spot. Our sources would have informed me if there were any indications,” Siri stated.
“How many slaves would be needed, to account for the difference?” Ari asked.
“Nearly six thousand, Milady,” Understanding dawned in the shaved woman's eyes. Her Mistress had her flaws, but she was quick. Her stepmother had been far more devious and detail oriented. But this eighteen-year-old woman cut to the heart of matters in a way she never had. Siri was one of the few in the upper echelons who wasn't dismissed when her parents passed to spirit five months ago.
“Very well, I will receive them. Be ready,” Ari ordered.
Siri placed her hand on the round stone that sat on top of a wrought iron stand and spoke. “The Mistress will receive the guests,” she said.
“Yes ma'am,” A thin male voice replied from the stone.
The heavy black marble doors of the Audience Chamber opened wide, looking like Magik. But it was a simple trick of hydraulics in this case making it possible. A well-dressed husky older man with a thick mustache, a soft but young man, and a half dozen guards wearing the sigil of House Guithenus entered. They walked briskly across the polished black marble floor of the room.
Ari stood tall in her high-necked long-sleeved black gown. “Welcome, my guests! Are you well? Have your needs been seen to properly?” she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. Appearances of care and respect must be maintained. She thought to herself.
“Your hold is most impressive, Lady Dothranan, and your servants adequate. We have been well treated,” Lord Guithenus replied with a nod.
Ari's eyes darkened noticeably at his statement. By calling her “Lady” instead of “Milady” he set his status as equal or greater, not a supplicant. She was a Great Lady. It would be appropriate for her to address him as Lord, but in the entire realm the only people who could address her as “Lady” without insult were one of the High Nobility, a member of the Wizards Council, another of the Great Nobility, or the King himself.
“I think you may have misspoken, Lord. But I am glad all is well,” Ari said with a hard look in her eyes.
“I did not misspeak, Lady Dothranan,” He said meeting her eyes arrogantly. “The truth is your House is still a House by the barest thread. Your enemies are gathering. Many houses see your current position as the greatest opportunity they have ever had for advancement.” Lord Guithenus sat in the chair across from Ari without invitation and said; “A glass of wine, woman,” addressing Siri.
Siri's eyebrow arched, and she looked to Ari questioningly.
Ari said, “If you wish to drink my wine, one of yours may fetch it. It is there,” Pointing to the cabinet in the shadowed corner near the doors.
Lord Guithenus nodded to one of his guards, who went to the cabinet.
“Did you come all this way just to insult me, Lord?” Ari asked with an unpleasant smile and sat down.
“No. I came here to offer you an alliance with my House, and the hand of my son to secure your precarious position. It will be a boon to both of our Houses, of that I can assure you,” the graying man replied as he took the glass of wine from his guard. They placed the open bottle on her desk.
She looked at the young man, whose round face, and dull eyes did not impress her. He had a paunch in his middle to match his father's bulging midriff. A spoiled child, not even required to join an academy, due to his birth rank. She could imagine him drooling quite easily.
“If I were to unleash just two of my armies, I could wipe you, your family, and all the people in your Hold out. Down to the last rat and flea. The battle would last one day,” Ari stated factually, looking intently at him over her steepled fingers.
“Oh yes, young Lady. Of that much I am certain. Especially if you still had a Wizard to your name. It's unfortunate none of your late stepmother's would serve a mere apprentice. I of course, do have one to defend my Hold,” Lord Guithenus replied with a nod.
“And, of course, it would be so very expensive to mobilize a force of that size. It takes a lot to move one-hundred-thousand soldiers. I seriously doubt Great Lord Quarrel would sit on his laurels whilst you were vulnerable. And I'm sure the High Lord would have some very unpleasant questions for you,” Guithenus said with a smug look.
“When your stepmother died, so did your alliance with House Lok. Not surprising that he wouldn't ally himself with a woman whose very existence dishonors his late daughter's memory. There will be no help from there. Who is left then? Oh yes, House Niral. And the only reason you still have them is because they couldn't possibly sell all the grapes they produce to anyone else. What is their garrison? Five-thousand? They couldn't even defend themselves from Lord Lok if he took issue with them, and Lok barely has half of my strength,” he met her eyes directly with a look of arrogant certainty.
“You are well informed, Lord Guithenus. But sparing the commoners sh
ould keep the High Lord's questions to a minimum, and I would kill your Wizard myself,” Ari rebutted. “But I do not intend to do so. I intend to deal with this now,” she stood, looking at Lord Guithenus as he chuckled lightly.
“Then you will accept my offer?” Guithenus said, draining his glass and standing up.
“You will have the alliance I pen. As to your son-” Guithenus put the glass down.
“I would sooner lie with a pig,” She hissed venomously.
Lord Guithenus's eyes widened in outrage. Ari activated two of her dead step-bitch's Magikal talismans. His mouth opened to say something; when Ari struck faster than a snake and took his hand. With the strength of two men, she pulled it across her desk and pinned it there with her dagger. She moved faster than the eye could see. Lord Guithenus's words changed to a scream of agony.
His guards drew steel, and heavy crossbow bolts from the chamber walls penetrated the plate and scale of the House Guithenus Guards. The six men and women collapsed to the marble floor, dead or grievously wounded. Cries of pain came from those still living, as the blood seeped from their bodies.
The pudgy young man looked at everything around him in horror. But finding courage in anger, he pulled his dagger and ran at Ari with a yell.
Siri's bare foot snapped into his chest from beneath her white gown. He was laid flat clutching his breast and gasping for breath. She put her foot back on the floor without taking a step from her place. She looked on him as if he were an annoying insect.
“Help me... please..,” came a weak voice from the floor.
“DIE QUIETLY!” Ari shouted with a wave of her hand. The Guithenus guards' moans and pleas were Magikally silenced.
“Reload!” echoed in the hollows of the walls.
“Milady, I'm sorry! I beg you! Please!” His left hand went to his pinned hand shakily.
“That is the proper way to address me. I am glad you understand now,” she pointed at his pinned hand and firmly said, “Do not touch it. You will stay there, like that, until I dismiss you.” She sat down, and he moved his trembling hand away whimpering in terror.
Ari made a dismissive gesture to the fallen guards. “Have that removed and give me your blade.”
“Yes, Mistress. The boy?” Siri asked as she presented her dagger pommel first.
“Have a Doctor see to him and confine him to a guest room under guard,” Ari replied.
Siri relayed the orders through the speaking stone as Ari put two blank sheets of parchment in front of her and cut the palm of her left hand with Siri's dagger. This pain was so little she would have described it as a tickle compared to what she has endured. She dropped her blood onto the parchment and murmured words of power. It was a parlor trick, but the effect on those without Magikal knowledge was very amusing.
The doors opened and House Dothranan Guards entered to begin dragging the dead and dying from the room as well as the young man. At Ari's evocation, her blood began forming words as sweat beaded on the Lord's ample forehead.
“What was his name again?” Ari asked absently, her attention on her Magik.
“Torak Guithenus, Mistress,” Siri replied instantly.
The words were, “I Torak Guithenus, do humbly apologize for my grave insult to Great Lady Ari Dothranan. In exchange for her mercy, I do hereby pledge myself, my house, and the blood of my first born son to House Dothranan. I entrust my son's education and proper noble training to Great Lady Dothranan, who will care for him in her magnificent Hold. I pledge to tithe five percent of my monthly income to assist the benevolent Great Lady Dothranan in the maintenance of her grand armies.”
“I Ari Dothranan, do accept Lord Torak Guithenus's humble apology, and do hereby pledge to protect him, and his people as if they were my own. I will establish a garrison of no less than twelve-thousand to ensure the safety and security of House Guithenus. I pledge to see that his son and heir has the very best training and education to ensure the future prosperity of House Guithenus, and the prosperity of our alliance.”
“As two who are wed become united, but are separate entities, so now do our Houses.”
Ari pressed the other parchment to the bloody manuscript producing a hissing sound when she did so. A wisp of smoke escaped from between the parchments. Ari separated the two perfect copies of the treaty and showed Lord Guithenus her terms.
He shouted in pained outrage “I will not sign this! I would ally with House Quarrel, they would not make such insane demands! And one day soon, I could avenge myself on you!”
Ari smiled coldly, with certainty in her eyes. “The unwritten part of my pledge may persuade you then. I will increase the already large number of agents in your House. I will not report the five-thousand some illegal slaves you possess to the High Lord. I will also not order one of my agents already present to send me your manhood.”
Ari licked the blood from her already healed wound to disturb him further. “I would place it in an appropriately small jar on my desk to hold my papers when the window is open. And have your son given ten lashes each day to amuse me. Then I would send an appropriate force to eradicate your inbred bloodline for the good of the realm.” She smiled wickedly at him.
“You're a mad woman!” Torak Guithenus said in sheer terror.
Ari stood up and took his pinned hand in hers and pulled her dagger free. Torak gasped painfully. With the dagger still in hand, watching him she placed a finger on his wound and healed it completely.
“You may sit, Lord,” she said. “Siri, fetch another glass.”
“Yes Mistress,” she replied.
He sat in the chair shaking and cowered in fear when Ari walked around the desk. She filled his glass and handed it to him. Ari poured her own when Siri arrived with her glass.
“We should drink to our new alliance!” She said raising the glass to him mockingly. “Or we can go to the High Lord and see what he thinks? Five-thousand illegal slaves? You're hiding them on a nearby island, I imagine. The Crown census wouldn't even think to look.”
He paled even more. Ari smiled victoriously.
“It would be only your Lordship if you are fortunate. Which I would certainly object to before the High Lord,” Ari sipped her wine.
“Very well. I will sign,” Torak Guithenus's balding head hung in utter defeat.
* * *
Ari rode in the cage of the outside lift from the top of the High Lord's tower, nearly a half mile above the streets of Vallad. She loved the view, and the way the fierce wind at this height whipped her long blonde hair around. She and Lord Guithenus just finished the announcement of their alliance to High Lord Vallad, which he then officially recognized.
She looked out on the Great City of Vallad cloaked in night, seeing the lights of the nearly four million souls present. Looking down she could see the Crown General's Tower, as well as the Wizard's Tower, connected to the High Lord's Tower by three bridges each, just as the Crown Lord's Tower was on the other side. She could see the moon's reflection on the Azure Ocean many miles to the south.
From here, she looked down upon her hold where over nine-hundred-thousand of Vallad's souls resided. She could see the vineyards, the wineries, the workshops, and smithies. The fields of different grains. Pastures and pens for the thousands of livestock and slaves. The houses of her commoners, the taverns and stores they used. Her trade houses, and warehouses that supplied her stores. Her prison, guard towers and the execution square. The five-hundred some odd barracks and stables attached to her guard towers. As well as the vineyards and wineries that had been her families stock in trade for the two centuries Vallad has existed. The tall clock tower near Dothranan Manor, which was a fortress in reality. The South Gate of Vallad under her protection opened up to the southern road.
If she had been on the north side of the tower, she would have seen a very similar picture of House Quarrel's hold, except they controlled the North Gate of Vallad. The East and West Gates were under the Crown General's protection. Crown Lord Giral administrated justice
to the east, and Crown Lady Corina to the west. Crown Lord Kendal administrated Central Vallad, from the Crown Lord's Tower. High Lord Vallad commanded the Nobility, and the Crown General, who commanded the Crown Legion with the authority granted by his station, in the King's name.
Why can't a woman hold a House by herself? She thought in frustration. A man can. She hated this law so much, but there was nothing she could do to change it without a great deal of support. She was unlikely to build the kind of alliances needed in the two years left to her to make that even worth considering.
So she would have to marry. Someone at least. Not ugly if she was going to open her legs for him. And he would need to be intelligent. Otherwise, she would surely stab him when he annoyed her with an idiotic observation.
But then if she were widowed, she could remain in control. She did not dismiss the idea, but she knew the risks. The High Lord could annul the marriage for any number of reasons. If she was not married long, failed to consummate, or produce offspring. That would completely defeat the purpose of marrying in the first place.
If there was no noble who had these qualities that she could have, what would she do? Oh, they certainly existed, but most of them held one grudge or another against her House. Or they saw her as a young puppet to be controlled as Guithenus did, not a Great Lady to be respected and feared as befitted her station. And the rest were already married, of course.
A Wizard could be good. But most of them were either too old, skinny or were so stuck on “accepted facts” that they wouldn't consider new ideas. That was as stupid as it could get with an educated person. They were unwilling to consider that an older study may not be correct until a new one had been completed. Unimaginative fools. At least a Wizard would have their power to bring them Noble rank.
The lift's cage settled at the base of the High Lord's Tower with Legionnaire's opening the gate of the lift. She stepped out of the cage with her four personal guards following her into her armored carriage. The steam engine on it was not fired, as she hated the noise of the thing. But it could still be used if the eight heavy horses in their chain mail barding were killed in an unexpected attack. She could use her Magik to fire the engine instantly if needed.
Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 5