Spirit of Magik (The Dothranan Chronicles Book 1)

by Richard Cluff

  Over her shoulders, she wore a black silk shawl with the Sigil of House Dothranan embroidered on it in red. The sigil was as wide as her back though. There was white and red fringe dangling from the edges, and it was secured with a silver brooch styled with the sigil of her House.

  Siri had helped her with her makeup. This is the first time in years she had ever worn any, she found it to be a useless, time-consuming ritual she had given up on when she was fifteen. But Siri was quite skilled, and only enhanced her eyes, cheeks, and lips slightly. The effect was dramatic though, she noted with pleasure.

  Her hair had been done by one of the household staff women that used to work on her stepmother's. She did an excellent job putting it into an elaborate coil of thick braid on top of her head while leaving much of her hair flowing down her back, and her ears and forehead uncovered.

  Siri wore a white dress that had tiny diamonds and pearls set throughout. She had a silver chain tiara with a tear drop diamond dangling in the middle of her forehead. She was quite striking, a true reminder of what she once was. Ari was certain there would be many Nobles here tonight that would be completely outdone by her.

  She could see the carriages and escorts of the other Lords and Ladies beholden to High Lord Vallad all around the quarter mile wide base of the High Lord's stark white stone Tower. The enchantments of the Tower's facade were distracting this close, as they always were to her sight.

  “The Magik here is so much brighter this close. How can you stand it, Mistress?” Thorel asked.

  “It is simply a matter of discipline, Thorel. Do not let it disturb you, and it will not,” she said.

  “Yes Mistress,” he said, sounding unconvinced.

  He is a good man, and I love him, but he still needs so much work. She thought. He does look very nice in the clothes I had made for him though. She admired him quietly in the black silken suit with white trim and the Dothranan sigil in red on his breast.

  Hannon Guithenus was dressed in an outfit of equal quality to Thorel's, but it had the Guithenus House sigil of course. A well-dressed pig is still a pig. Ari thought impassively.

  They passed through the throng outside the Tower. When people recognized them, they parted for her quickly with bows. When people didn't, one of her guards would shove them out of the way for her.

  Thorel looked uncomfortable each time that happened, but he didn't say anything. It is good that he knows his place in public. It was just another reason to love him, in her mind.

  When they approached the outside lift area, they were forced to wait nearly twenty minutes for it to return so they could get aboard. Lord Niral was also waiting, who was the only staunch ally of her house.

  Vacon Niral was a man in his early sixties, but he was still vigorous for his age. He was flanked by two of his children, the youngest of them. He had six that he claimed, possibly more according to rumor. Ari had only met them once before after she became the Mistress of House Dothranan. The woman was in her early twenties, and the man appeared to be just a bit older. His son did bear the staff of a Wizard though, with five spirits attached by a thread. The only thing she remembered for certain about them is that this daughter was a bastard, just as she was.

  “Milady Dothranan, it is a true pleasure to see you again,” he said with a smile, taking her hands in his and kissing each cheek in turn.

  “And you, Lord Niral. How is your family? Your fields?” She asked with a smile.

  “Oh, my family is well, Milady, but I'm quite certain you are more interested in my fields than a doting old man going on about his grandchildren,” he said with a knowing smile.

  “Perhaps just a touch,” she said, appreciating Lord Niral's attention to etiquette even with such a blunt sentiment.

  He nodded with a smile, “My grapes are doing quite well, Milady. There will be no shortcoming although we have caught a few who tried to make it not so.”

  “Really? I do hope you made them see their error, Lord,” she said with a serious look into his eyes.

  “Oh yes, Milady. The men I caught were whipped quite thoroughly before their legs were broken. I had them sent to Vallad on the back of an Ox cart. I doubt they'll be bothering me again,” he nodded with a pleasant smile.

  “I doubt they will Lord,” she said with a smile. Niral may be one of the weaker lords of the realm, but he certainly knew how to deal with saboteurs.

  The rest of the conversation was blasé, as she had no real interest as he knew in his children and grandchildren. It was good to know that he was confident in his eldest son's ability to take his place when the time came though. Which Niral did acknowledge was something he needed to concern himself with.

  When the lift arrived, Niral properly yielded his place in the line to her. She thanked him graciously of course.

  They went to the lift to get on board, and Thorel stood outside with his hand on the cage looking at it, then at her and looking up at the tower. There was a look of terror in his eyes.

  “What is wrong, Thorel?” She asked.

  “Mistress, how high are we going?” He asked looking pale.

  “We will go to the High Lord's reception area on the one-hundred-ninetieth floor Thorel. Why do you ask?” She inquired in puzzlement.

  His eyes widened, and he grew paler. He let go of the cage and stepped away stammering, “Mistress, no. It's really alright. I'm not worthy to meet the High Lord anyway,” he backed away from the lift.

  “Thorel!” She thought sternly into his mind. “What are you thinking? You promised you wouldn't embarrass me!”

  “I'm sorry, Ari, but I just can't, it's too high, I can't even look out the window of our room without getting dizzy and that isn't anywhere near as high as this is!” His thoughts babbled back to her.

  “Thorel, get in the lift,” she snapped out loud.

  “Mistress, I cann..,” he started saying.

  “Do not finish that sentence. Not in front of others. If you do, I will be forced to punish you. I am not jesting this time Thorel,” she snapped in his mind coldly.

  “Young man, what is the problem?” Lord Niral asked him.

  “Milord, it is just too high up,” Thorel stammered.

  “Young man, it will take thirty minutes for the lift to ascend and return. I understand it is frightening to consider, but it truly is safe. There has never been an accident of any kind. And it would be improper for you to keep me waiting on your account,” Lord Niral said in a firm, but kindly tone.

  Ari could see the conflict on his face. She seriously considered having him brought in bodily by her guards. But that might be difficult with his size, and the fact that he wore her father's talismans.

  “Milord, Mistress, my apologies,” He said shakily and nearly ran inside the lift. Once inside, he clutched the cage on the backside looking towards the tower itself.

  She nodded appreciatively to Lord Niral, who knew quite well he had just indebted her for his aid here.

  “Mr. Tangarth, are you going to be alright?” Siri asked with humor in her voice.

  “I'll be fine, ma'am,” he said, not opening his eyes.

  “Take us up,” Ari said to the House Vallad guard.

  “Yes Milady,” the House Vallad guardsman said, closing the lift's cage. He spoke into his speaking rod: “South lift is ready to ascend to the one-hundred-ninetieth floor.”

  “Understood, sir,” Came the woman's thin voice from the stone.

  “Don't feel bad, friend. This thing scares the hell out of me too,” Hannon said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thanks,” was all Thorel managed.

  Ari spoke into his mind: “It is nothing to worry over. If something were to happen, I would be able to save you and Siri at least.”

  “Thank you, Ari. I'm sorry I embarrassed you,” his terrified thoughts came back as the lift began its ascent.

  “I did not realize this would be an issue. I will plan ahead in the future,” she replied.

  “And I will try to plan ways not to
come here if I can help it,” Thorel thought back.

  “There is an interior lift. We could have used that if I'd known,” she thought to him.

  “Why didn't we go there then?” He asked.

  “I like the view from the outside lifts,” she replied simply.

  “No, I mean why didn't we use it just now?” He asked.

  “I cannot yield on a decision unless there is a benefit to me in front of others, Thorel. Niral is the only real ally of our House, and I will not display such weakness before him. We can take the interior lift down after the party though, as it will not affect people's perceptions,” she thought to him, trying to be patient. She was having some difficulty at the moment though.

  * * *

  They entered the High Lord's reception area on the one-hundred-ninetieth floor. Ari walked into the area flanked by two of her guards, followed by Siri, Hannon Guithenus, and Thorel. Entering in order of birth rank. Even though Siri was no longer a Noble, her birth rank certainly exceeded Guithenus. Her hold had been one of the largest of the Old Kingdom.

  One of the House Vallad Guard Captains greeted them respectfully. The House Dothranan party walked through the white marble hall to the Noble's reception area. Ari was quite familiar with the white marble room. This was where she had always entered the High Lord's Tower from. There were House Vallad guards spaced throughout the room as usual.

  A House Vallad Wizard stood with the steward at the receptionist's desk. The desk overlooked the halls to the north and south, as well as the pair of lifts in the center of the room. There was another pair of lifts behind the desk as well. Those were the lifts to access the last six floors Ari knew.

  She saw Gorath Lok walking with the old prune he called a wife. They and their guards entered the room from the central lift. His long red hair was mostly gray now, he bore his Wizard's staff and Master's robe with glowing red and green runes upon it.

  He gave her an unpleasant look and said “Milady,” to her with barely concealed hatred.

  “Lord,” Ari replied without emotion.

  She was not surprised at Lord Lok's attitude, considering her step-bitch had been his daughter. He had even made the accusation that she had stolen her mother's spirit after she had died. But it had been easy to demonstrate that her step-bitch had felt enough hatred towards her that her spirit could have easily attached on its own. And without an aggrieved party that the spirit had been stolen from, he was fined by the Council for his false accusation.

  It is fortunate the right of vengeance cannot be called upon one who executes it justly. I would not wish to deal with him here and now. She thought to herself.

  “Ari, is he one of our enemies?” Thorel thought to her.

  “Not publicly. But I am certain he will become one as soon as it is convenient and safe to be,” she replied.

  “Why?” He asked.

  “My stepmother was his daughter. I killed her if you recall,” she thought to him.

  “Oh,” Thorel sounded embarrassed.

  “Milady Dothranan, welcome. Milord Lok, welcome,” the steward bowed to each of them in order of rank, with Ari being first of course.

  “Milady, the lift is ready at your convenience,” he said, bowing again.

  Ari nodded and led her party into the left-hand lift behind the steward's desk.

  The lift operator curtsied and said, “Milady,” she then operated the levers to begin the lift's upward motion.

  Siri spoke sarcastically when the doors closed, “Lord Lok looks as if he was unhappy to see you, Mistress.”

  Ari shook her head ruefully. “Oh yes. He is a minor annoyance though. It is only a matter of time before his line dies off. I doubt he is vigorous enough to father any more children, and his wife is certainly past her childbearing years.”

  “I imagine they will produce a bastard out of nowhere soon. That should be interesting,” Siri said with a smile.

  Ari chuckled at that. “If he dies before she does without an heir, I imagine she will find a young Wizard to wed and bed to preserve their line.”

  Thorel grimaced at that idea. “If so, that Wizard would have to be a special kind of pervert, Mistress,” he said.

  Ari's jaw nearly unhinged she was so surprised at his sharp wit just now.

  Siri laughed wholeheartedly and said; “Mr. Tangarth, I believe there is hope for you yet.”

  They could hear the music before the lift doors opened. When they did open, she saw the High Lord's ballroom. The room was the entire width of the Tower at this height, about three-hundred yards. The ceiling was at least six yards above them, with windows that reached the ceiling around the entire circumference, except where the lift she had just exited was. The floor was white marble, with expensive rugs here and there. She could see six sets of carved marble spiral staircases that went above and below at equal distances around the circumference.

  The central lifts did not pass through this level, and in the center of the room was a large group of bards with many instruments. She saw lutes and sitars, as well as drums of every shape and size known to man, attached to a large metal rack with a very fit shirtless man pounding perfect rhythms to accompany them. A female percussionist wearing very little pounded on her metal pieces on a rack similar to the drummers while doing an erotic dance. Six of the bards played different wind instruments which Ari did not know the name of.

  There was even a piano being played in accompaniment. That instrument alone would cost nearly three gold crowns she knew. Three scantily clad women were singing into speaking rods; their voices were being broadcast over large speaking stones surrounding the bards. Their voices were broadcast perfectly, without distortion. These were not common speaking stones, Ari was certain of that. Many of the men had speaking rods held on metal stands also, and would accompany the women with their voices at times.

  There were pretty slave dancers performing to the music, men and women. It must have taken years of training for them to reach the proficiency they displayed. Ari had a team of slave dancers, but these men and women made hers look quite poor. The complexity of their dance and perfect counterpoint to the music was mathematically amazing to Ari.

  It had been four years since Ari had been to one of the High Lord's parties. It was a lot more impressive now that she had a true understanding of the wealth it would take to accomplish this. Ten percent of my income goes directly to you, and half of that is taken by the throne. You had better be able to throw a good party. Ari thought irritably.

  She saw the four large polished white marble topped dining tables set to the west side, and a table of delicacies sat between there and the bards. There were House Vallad guards standing along the circumference at four-yard intervals with spears in hand.

  She walked out of the lift with two of her guards, with Siri following. Then Siri poked her lightly in the back. When Ari turned to her, she nodded to Thorel and Hannon with an amused smile. When she looked, she saw both of them were still in the lift completely immobile, staring slack-jawed at the spectacle before them.

  She shouldn't have been surprised, but she was disappointed. Could he be any more obviously a commoner in fine clothing? She wondered. Guithenus she could forgive to a point. She hadn't even had a month to train him properly yet, and he was just naturally pathetic.

  “Thorel! You're embarrassing me again!” She practically shouted into his mind.

  “Sorry, I just... wow,” was all he had to say. He poked Hannon to get him moving. “Hannon, the Mistress is waiting for us,” he said, completely embarrassed by his own lapse.

  “Huh? Oh, right. Sorry, Milady,” he stepped out of the lift with the two guards while Thorel followed closely with his own.

  When he came out, Ari stepped up to him and took his hand. She whispered forcefully into his ear: “If you don't quit staring at the dancers, you will be sleeping in a slave pen tonight.”

  He whispered back, “I'm sorry, I've just never seen anything like that or any of this.”

  She s
ighed. “I forgive you for that. But I need you to control yourself. There are many amazing things in this world you have not seen. I just need you to admire them with some poise and dignity. And by the spirits, at least keep your mouth closed when you aren't speaking.”

  “I'll do the best I can, Mistress,” he said sincerely.

  “Good,” she replied forcefully.

  * * *

  Thorel looked at everything in the huge room in wonder. He tried hard not to stare at things, and to keep his mouth closed as Ari had asked him. He hated that he was embarrassing her, she had told him that tonight was extremely important, but he just couldn't help himself. It was all too amazing, he couldn't believe he just saw that man just eat fire! And it looked like he wasn't hurt either!

  Ari was busy talking to Lady Fisk: she was older and average height for a woman, meaning Ari towered over her. The regal bearing of the Lady was not disturbed by this though. She held her Wizard's staff in hand and had an animated conversation with Ari about a Magikal theory. Thorel simply could not keep up with them.

  Then Hannon tugged his jacket, pulling his attention away. “What is it, Hannon?” He asked.

  “I'd like you to meet my father, Thorel. He's right over there,” he pointed at a large balding man in his fifties with an extra chin. Thorel could certainly see the family resemblance.

  “Alright. I'll try not to embarrass you,” he said.

  “It'll be fine,” Hannon said with confidence.

  Since Ari was talking, he whispered to Siri; “Tell her Hannon wanted to introduce me to his father please,” Thorel was still stunned by Siri in her outfit. She was an older woman, and the fact that she was bald had always disconcerted him, but she looked exquisitely beautiful tonight.

  “Very well, Mr. Tangarth. Be safe, and keep your guards with you,” she whispered.

  Even here? “Keep your guards with you,” She said. The High Lord's guards were everywhere, as well as two House Vallad Wizards he'd seen so far. He couldn't imagine anyone trying to assault him here, let alone having a chance to do something serious.