Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

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Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1) Page 29

by Richard Cluff


  “That will not be required. Nor will an alliance. Simply agree with my idea for the new hold when it is brought up during the groundbreaking party next Friday,” Ari said seriously.

  “I do hope it is an idea I can agree with, Milady,” Corina said with a forced smile.

  “It is not an attack on your interests, Lady Corina,” Leather, cotton, wool and slaves were the Crown Ladies primary interests, along with a small but lucrative mead making operation. She had incredible animal stock bred specially for meat and hide output. They auctioned at high prices; Ari had some among her own animals according to the Guild of shepherds.

  “And all I will get for this is your silence until you ask another favor of me, is that correct, Milady?” Corina asked pointedly.

  Ari smiled; Corina understood her position exactly it seemed. “That is correct. I will not spend them lightly or often, I assure you, Lady Corina,”

  “While I will admit to some discomfort over the situation I find myself in, I will comply with your request, Milady,” Corina tipped her head to Ari respectfully.

  “I appreciate that Lady. I would like to take this uncomfortable situation and make it a more agreeable arrangement for each of us though,” Ari looked directly into her eyes. This is the risky part, she thought.

  “You could do that easily by giving me this evidence, Milady. I would be far more agreeable then,” Corina countered instantly.

  Ari nodded her acknowledgment and with a look to the Wizard reached into her pocket. The man tensed visibly but held no Magik. She carefully pulled a folded paper from her pocket and handed it to her.

  “This is not for his knowledge,” Ari said with a look to the Wizard.

  Corina nodded her understanding of this while unfolding the paper.

  She examined it for long moments while Ari pretended to wait patiently. Corina's reaction to this would tell Ari if she may have a long-term ally or not. It detailed inequities she wished to see addressed for women and what would be appropriate. Siri had written the note for her: she knew much more about these matters than Ari did.

  Lady Corina exhaled and said: “Milady if I may say so, this is extremely ambitious. I assume you would like this returned?” She said offering the paper to Ari.

  “You assume correctly,” Ari took the paper and refolded it, placing it back in her pocket. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think Milady, you may wish to research High Lady Sorillia. She was also very ambitious in a similar way,” Corina said in a carefully neutral tone.

  “I do not know of her, or her family,” Ari said frankly.

  “It is no surprise, Milady. She was the High Lady of what is now known as Fenox some four-hundred years ago. She was very vocal about her goals and ideas; which was a serious mistake on her part. One night Sorillia and her entire family were murdered in her own tower. Even her newborn son was killed in his crib. At the time, it was believed that one of the Great Houses of the City brought them low. But it happened without any warning: neither of the City's Great Houses took credit for such a bold and successful removal. Some scholars believe that King Uriah Corwinthius himself may have ordered her death, but, of course, there is no proof,” she took a drink of her water and regarded her seriously.

  Ari nodded gravely. She would have to look up High Lady Sorillia: she had never heard of this before now. “I knew already that I must have the proper support before I made any moves.”

  “You will have to be a High Lady to make such a move, Milady,” Corina said flatly. “And I will not be a party to any attack on the High Lord. I owed his father a great debt I could not repay during his life, but I will not dishonor his kindness to my family.”

  Ari nodded. She wondered about this debt, but instead she asked: “Do you agree with the ideas I shared with you?” She needed to know where Corina stood on this.

  “I agree with the spirit, Milady. While I would like to see some changes you propose, I am also aware of the dangers. As a Crown Lady, I am in no position to effectively support such radical ideas anyway. But until you have accomplished the first steps there is no point in discussing it further,” Corina said honestly.

  No point unless you become a High Lady. Ari thought. But with Lady Corina's support, she was going to take her first step towards that goal one week from today.

  * * *

  Tara crept into her parents’ house quietly. It was well past dark, near the twenty-third hour. The small blonde woman carefully shut the door behind her: she didn't want to wake her mother or father.

  She hadn't been home for two weeks; she almost didn't come home tonight, knowing she would have to answer her mother's questions about what happened to her. But she was prepared now: she could tell her mother without flinching. I was beaten up by a girl at school. No need to tell the Legion or guards, my friends helped me beat her. She's worse than I am now.

  It was a lot better than trying to tell her the truth: I was raped by two Legionnaires. She'd heard her mother's opinions on such accusations enough. Most women who cry rape are lying little harlots trying to protect their honor. I'd bet she wouldn't have said anything if her neighbors hadn't found out she'd been whoring.

  She knew what her father would do: he would cry seeing her hurt like this, then throw himself into a beautiful painting or sculpture to express his feelings about it while ignoring the outside world. He would forget to eat or drink until her mother yelled at him.

  But the work would be of such beauty when he was done, it would take a person's breath away.

  She walked painfully, picking her staff up so it would not strike a surface and make noise.

  With the dim light of a small candle, she made her way through the gallery showcasing her father's work as well as the work of many other artists in Vallad. She stopped in front of a painting that hadn't been here the last time she had come home. The way the shading was done on the subjects face was remarkable: she had never seen anything quite like that.

  She looked forward to seeing it in the light of day tomorrow and walked to the stairwell. Her day had been long: she looked forward to falling into her own bed. It had been too long.

  They hadn't had any opportunity to get that whore alone tonight. Anny and Traia had left after the twenty-first hour. That had left her and Nina alone watching and waiting.

  Out of the three girls, she knew Nina was her true friend and wouldn't leave her just because she was bored. Nina had even gone so far as to take the carriage with her home to East Vallad. She had been surprised by her at the end of the ride though.

  “If your mother gives you any trouble, tell me and I'll straighten her out,” the tall girl had said shaking her fist menacingly.

  Tara couldn't help but giggle at that. She had never had a girlfriend like Nina before. She was tough, strong and not afraid of anybody.

  Nina's hand cupped the back of her head and she looked at her intently. “I mean it. Tell me.”

  “Alright,” Tara said taken aback by her sudden intensity.

  That was when Nina pressed her lips to hers. Tara's eyes widened so much she thought they were going to pop out of her head.

  Tara squealed. Nina loosened her grip, allowing her to pull away but didn't let her go.

  “What are you doing? I'm a girl!” She breathed heavily.

  “Yeah, me too,” Nina said with a mischievous smile.

  “I know!” She said flustered. “But I like boys!” She declared over the sound of the blood pounding in her ears.

  “So do I. But I like you too,” Nina pulled Tara to her and hugged her. Her long brown hair spilled over her small body, she felt Nina's breasts press against her.

  Tara stopped and leaned on her bedroom door to steady herself. Her heart fluttered the way it had the first time she had seen Thorel thinking about it. But she's a girl! She cried out inside.

  Her internal protests did not diminish her heart rate though. Only time did.

  She knew her mother would throw her out of the house if she had seen them
together like that. She had always chastised her father for painting or sculpting depictions of nude women embracing or kissing. “Don't judge my inspirations dear. Besides, they sell well,” her mother would grudgingly acknowledge the fact.

  She had heard her mother yell at him many times for making immoral depictions of shameless women. Everything her father made was beautiful as far as Tara was concerned though.

  She opened her door quietly and set the small candle on the stand. She felt a blunt force strike the back of her leg and grabbed the door to steady herself. Her staff fell from her hand onto her bed and she cupped her mouth to muffle her scream.

  The big gray and white cat rubbed against her legs purring even louder than her muffled scream had been.

  Tara held both hands over her heart and panted. “Sasha, are you trying to kill me?” She whispered angrily.

  She picked Sasha up with a grunt. “I swear, you're even fatter than you were!”

  Sasha purred her approval of Tara's attention loudly as she quietly closed the door to her room.

  “If you keep going like that, you're going to wake mother!” She chastised the cat quietly.

  “Meow,” Was all Sasha had to say to that as Tara set her on the soft bed.

  Tara smiled as she picked up her staff and leaned it against the wall. She rounded the bed and opened her shutters to allow the night air in so as to air out the closeness of the room.

  She laid on her bed and grabbed Sasha, holding her close to her. The cat's motor reached a new height of volume as she stroked her soft fur.

  “You really missed me, didn't you?” She smiled quietly. She'd missed her too. More than she had missed her father even.

  Sasha's purring came to an inexplicable stop. Tara could feel her muscles tense.

  “Sasha? What's wrong?” She asked with concern.

  The cat's hair rose on her body, and she started hissing at the door. Tara looked and saw the air in front of it bend like a swirl in the dim candlelight.

  What? Was all Tara had time to think before Sasha bounded over her and ran under the bed. A tall, black-cloaked figure appeared in front of her door. The hood was drawn low to cover their face.

  Tara screamed at the top of her lungs, but no sound came out of her mouth.

  The person who had appeared out of thin air walked to her bed and sat upon it. Tara screamed again: still no sound came out. But she could feel her lungs work.

  A woman's cold voice spoke from under the hood. “If you keep trying to scream we won't be able to talk. I won't hurt you unless you anger me.”

  Tara tried to ask her: “Who are you, and what do you want?” But still no sound came forth.

  She could see the woman's mouth crack into a small smile. That was all she could really see though because of her hood and the dim light.

  “You seem calmer. Speak quietly,” the cloaked figure nodded.

  Experimentally Tara asked, “Who are you?”

  “It doesn't matter. All that matters is we hate the same woman,” the cold voice said.

  “The red-headed whore?” Tara breathed.

  “Yes. Eliel Kwinn, the red-headed whore,” the woman spat the words out as if she hated the taste of them.

  Tara dared hope: whoever this woman was, she hated her too? “Are you a Wizard?” She asked fearfully.

  A faint smile touched the woman's lips. “Yes.”

  “Milady, I meant no insult by not addressing you properly,” she stammered.

  “It is no matter. Tomorrow, there will be a carriage waiting for her on Facen Street, near Gordo lane in Dothranan hold. It will be there at the twentieth hour. Be there and wait inside for her. You and your friends can then do as you wish with her when she arrives,” the woman spoke some words then in a strange tongue she did not understand.

  Tara could feel the hatred for that whore harden in her heart. It blazed with a new life all its own. She sat up and nodded excitedly. “Yes Milady, thank you. I will.”

  “If the driver questions you, give him a silver and tell him you are her friend. Tell him you are waiting for her,” the cloaked woman pulled a pouch out of her pocket and dumped over a dozen silver coins on the bed.

  “Milady, are you sure you want to give me this much money?” Tara's eyes widened.

  “I want to make certain that you have what you need. If you do not go there though, I will return for it,” she said coldly.

  Tara was more excited than she had been when her mother had placed one of her own paintings in the gallery for sale. “Oh, I'll get there, Milady. Even if I have to step over my mother's corpse to do it,” she had never been more serious about anything in her life.

  The cloaked woman smiled broadly at that, showing her perfect white teeth. She stood and spoke. “I will take my leave then. Be well, Tara Macal.”

  “Thank you, Milady!” Tara said as the woman's form twisted and disappeared.

  Tara gathered up the silver excitedly and put it in a pouch on her headboard. She was finally going to get that whore. She peeked under the bed and saw Sasha's eyes glowing.

  “Come on Sasha, come here,” she reached under the bed for her, but Sasha hissed and clawed her fingers.

  “Ow!” Tara cried as she pulled her hand back. Sasha had never clawed her before. What has gotten into her?

  She stuck her wounded fingers in her mouth and seriously considered throwing the stupid cat out the window.

  Saturday May 18th 1624th year of the First Great City

  The Bloody Table

  After the midday meal, Nigel knelt and spoke the oath of service in Ari's dining room. Thorel watched his best friend with pride. Thorel wasn't really sure when Nigel had become his best friend, but yesterday's conversation in the carriage had completely solidified it.

  “I, Nigel Riks, do vow to protect the Great Hold of House Dothranan, it's people, property, and honor.

  I vow to obey those with authority over me.

  I will care for the property given to me to serve the hold.

  I will uphold the law, and behave with honor.

  I swear my life to serve the Mistress's wishes in all things.

  If I no longer wish to serve the Mistress, I will announce it and leave her service immediately.”

  “Rise then, I will accept your service,” Ari said with a nod. She wore her white dress with the red patterns on it today.

  Thorel smiled broadly. “We're in the same boat now, man. Welcome aboard.” He took Nigel's hand and helped him up.

  “Welcome Mr. Riks,” Siri said. “I have some documents for you to sign here.”

  “Yes, ma'am. Thank you all,” Nigel smiled and went to the dining table where Siri laid the papers out for him.

  Nigel signed each of the papers, and Siri once again signed as a witness.

  “I will see you to Household staff so you can get settled in. Due to your school schedule, you will only be expected to make meals for the Mistress on the weekends. After you are settled in, go to the kitchens and find Mr. Kuro. He is the chef who will be making the Mistress's meals during the week. He will be your direct superior,” Siri told him.

  “Yes ma'am,” he said.

  “Is there anything you require before I take my leave, Mistress?” Siri asked.

  “No Siri. I will see you at dinner,” Ari nodded to her.

  “Very well then. Mr. Riks, come with me,” Siri led him out. Nigel smiled at Thorel as he left.

  “Are you ready for your lesson?” Ari asked.

  “Yes,” Thorel picked up his bag with his books in it.

  “Then come,” Ari walked towards her study. Thorel followed and started thinking of how he would ask her if she liked him. If it hadn't been for the bottle of wine he had shared with Nigel last night, he was sure he wouldn't have gotten any sleep thinking about this.

  They entered the study, and Kira came in through the servants' door in the back of the room. She carried a tray with a pitcher of water packed in cold stones with two glasses. She set them on the low table
in the room.

  “Is there anything else you require, Mistress?” Kira asked.

  “No Kira. Leave us,” Ari said with a wave of dismissal.

  “Yes Mistress,” the pretty brown-haired girl curtsied and left.

  He was finally alone with Ari. He hadn't even seen her last night after he'd arrived. Siri said she was quite busy. She sat at her desk and set the thick book on it aside. “Today I will teach you how to extend your Magikal senses.”

  Thorel nodded and spoke softly. “Ari, can I ask you something before we start?”

  “Of course. What is it?” She turned to regard him attentively.

  Thorel closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Do you like me?”

  Ari nodded to him, “Yes. You are a good student, and intelligent. I'm certain you will gain your staff, and your unique abilities will make you quite formidable.”

  Thorel blinked. “Thank you, Ari.” That wasn't quite what he had been looking for though.

  “You are welcome. Is that all?” She asked.

  “Um, no. What I mean is, do you like me as more than a friend?” He managed nervously.

  “What do you mean?” This was the first time Thorel had ever seen Ari look uncertain. It was her eyes that gave her away; nothing else.

  “Ari, do you have feelings for me?” It took all of his courage to be that direct with her.

  Ari looked down to the carpeted floor: and Thorel could see her hands begin to shake. Her head shifted nervously, looking everywhere in the room but at him.

  He stood up and went to her quickly. “Ari, what's wrong?”

  She turned her head away from him: all he could see is her long golden locks streaming down in front of her face. “Nothing,” she said quietly.

  “Not ‘nothing,'” Thorel said. “What is it?” He took one of her shaking hands in his.

  “Why do you care?” He could hear a choke in her voice. Is she crying? His concern grew.

  “I care because you're more than my Mistress. You're my friend,” he said sincerely.

 

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