“I be Jex Xander, battlemage extraordinaire, at your service.” Jex rose to his feet and bowed over her hand, planting a lingering kiss on the back. “Might I be so blessed as to have your name, divine one, or are you simply the Goddess in mortal guise, to remain unnamed?”
Gaylan gave the woman an amused look and she rolled her eyes, though she was clearly pleased by the flattery. The Tesian reached out and pulled her firmly down onto his brawny knee.
“Xander, this is Babirye Krighamre. My wife.” There was unmistakable emphasis on the last two words, a mark of pride and friendly warning. He circled her slim waist with his arm, his hand settling possessively on her thigh. She swatted it away, but the gesture was playful rather than affronted and she didn’t protest when he simply put it back in the same place with a firm squeeze.
“I can speak for myself, you great bear,” Babirye sighed. Returning her attention to Jex, she ducked her head in greeting. “Pleased to meet you, Battlemage Xander.”
“Please, my friends call me Jex, and I would very much like for us to be friends.” He gave her his most winning smile, revealing a dimple in each cheek.
“Find your own woman, mageling,” Gaylan growled affably, “This one is already taken!”
“Alas,” Jex mourned, putting a hand over his heart as if wounded. “Mine eyes shall never look upon another beauty as perfect or as fair. You are the brightest star in the velvet heavens, yet no matter how I yearn for thee, your radiant affections will be forever beyond my grasp.”
“Such blarney!” Babirye accused, laughing heartily. She turned to her husband and cuffed the side of his head. “Why don’t you ever speak to me so?”
“I do!” he protested, rubbing his offended skull.
Babirye rolled her eyes again. “Asking me to play the blanket hornpipe doesn’t count. Now that one,” she pointed at Jex, “knows some very pleasing words. Learn from him, husband, and perhaps you will spend more time in my bed.”
“Now look what you’ve done,” Gaylan groaned at the mage, “I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Apologies, my good friend…” His words trailed off as his eyes focused on something over Gaylan’s shoulder. The big man turned his head to follow his stare. Babirye glanced behind as well.
“Ah, that be my twin sister, Chimaka,” she said slyly, reading the interest in his eyes. “She’s not taken.”
“Exactly. Go ply your silver tongue on her. She’s a, um, a most accommodating lass.” It was evident Gaylan had meant to say something quite different, but changed his mind at a look from his wife.
“Oh, I most certainly will. If you’ll excuse me.” Jex started away, weaving between and around small knots of people, eyes fastened on the beauty standing alone near the cold hearth.
* * *
Babirye’s sister proved to be a most accommodating lass indeed.
After Jex reached her side, accepting another mug of ale along the way, a lively tune was struck up by a group of men and women in the opposite corner. It took a bit of doing, but he coaxed her to the middle of the floor with him and she turned out to be nearly as expert a partner as Sarene had been, and twice as enthusiastic. She was even so bold as to steal his tankard, throwing her head back and downing the contents in a series of long swallows that accentuated the graceful column of her throat.
The atmosphere in the servants’ common room was nothing like the grand and stately affair of the hall upstairs, even at the height of the revelry. The musicians played more rustic instruments here; fiddles, tambourines, pipes, and bodhrán, and the dancing was much less structured, requiring a great deal of prolonged contact between partners. Most of the steps, he learned, were improvised on the spot.
After almost a dozen reels and sets, they were both flushed and sweating from the exertion. Chimaka plucked the neck of her gown away from her chest, under the pretense of fanning a bit of cooler air onto her overheated skin. Jex studied the deep valley between her breasts, thoroughly entranced by the firm globes that peeked from the top of her shift. When he looked up again, she was watching him hungrily, the tip of her pink tongue sliding out to lick her lips.
In another half hour, well into his fourth…fifth?...tankard, he was at last overcome by the lust born of Chimaka’s hot glances and increasingly aggressive touch. He took her hand and drew her from the crowd, retreating into a dark corner for more privacy.
On the way, she caught hold of a pretty Darmese girl and pulled her along. The two women seemed well acquainted with one another, much to his delight, and he was glad he’d accepted Gaylan’s offer instead of slipping into the city.
Kisses became sloppy, caresses turned greedy, and before he knew it, they were leading him from the room. A chorus of catcalls and bawdy laughter followed after them, but Jex barely noticed, intent on following the enticing pair of bottoms in front of him wherever their owners chose to lead him.
They staggered together up the winding flights of stairs to the guest wing on the fourth floor, lips and hands roaming without a thought or care as to who might see. By the time they’d reached his room, Jex’s surcoat had vanished. He had the front of the Darmese girl’s dress unlaced, freeing her breasts to his skilled fingers and Chimaka had progressed from yanking open his tunic—losing a button or two along the way—to struggling with his belt. It would have gone much more quickly if her hands hadn’t gone into his hair every time he stopped to kiss her.
One foot tangling in someone’s skirts, Jex stumbled and careened sideways, all three of them colliding with the wall as they laughed and panted. It took every ounce of his remaining concentration to get the key out of his pocket, into the lock, and then to open the door. In his haste, he overbalanced, sprawling backwards across the threshold. The two women followed him down and his head struck the floor soundly.
For a moment, he saw stars, but they were quickly replaced by sparks of another kind when Chimaka bit down on his bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth. A little more fumbling and she finally succeeded in removing his belt, casting it aside before immediately pulling down his trousers and palming him. Without bothering to gain his feet, and relishing the feel of the other woman’s hands on his now bare skin, he rolled Chimaka onto her back.
Shoving the door closed with a booted foot, he threw her skirts up to her waist and was delighted to find her naked beneath. As he settled between her splayed thighs, an equally naked body pressed against the length of his back and a slim hand came around him to pull down the neck of Chimaka’s bodice.
They never did make it to the bed.
* * *
It was still hours before dawn when he heard the door creak open and only then did Jex realize that, in his earlier rush, he’d failed to lock it upon entering.
That was a mistake that had often proved fatal in the Imperial court.
He lay perfectly still, eyes closed and breathing evenly as if still asleep. He listened to the intruder move about the darkened room, stumbling once over an unseen obstacle and swearing softly. A man, then, and clumsy. Not a servant, either; they would be familiar with the layout of the room and it was far too early for them, anyway.
When he sensed the other man begin to bend over him, Jex made his move.
Launching himself up into the man’s gut, he bore him over backwards and to the ground. They struggled briefly, each seeking to top the other, before Jex finally gained the upper hand. He’d found the dagger sheathed at the man’s waist and, jerking it free, pressed it to the other’s throat. His opponent stilled immediately
“Black Goddess, Xander, relax! It’s me!” a familiar voice hissed.
Jex kept the dagger steady. He was in a rather foul mood and this one had it coming. “You have five seconds to explain yourself, Ophelius. Four, three, two—”
“The Shadow Lady sent me!”
Ophelius reached up and pushed at Jex’s chest until he rolled aside, sliding the dagger back into its sheath as he did so. He was on excellent terms with Moravelle at the moment, so she
had no need to send an assassin. Especially one as inept as Ophelius.
“Diu, Xander,” Ophelius whined, rubbing his neck. “You’re such an ass sometimes.”
“What did you expect, breaking into my rooms in the middle of the bloody night?” Jex shot back. His head was starting to pound and he had no idea where his clothes were. When he felt around, his groping hand encountered a smooth, warm thigh in one direction and a tangle of silken hair in the other. How the two women had slept through the scuffle was beyond him, but he must have worn them out rather thoroughly. That made him feel a little better.
“Drunken git,” Ophelius continued, evidently not done with his complaints. “How did you know I was here? I was sure you were out cold.”
Jex stretched out with a contented sigh, tucking both hands behind his head. “Because you walk like a mine gollum and smell like a latrine.”
“You’re one to talk,” Ophelius fired back. “This place smells like a brothel.”
“Jealous?”
“Hardly. Your talented sister keeps me more than satisfied. I’m only here because she sent me.”
“So you said.” He decided to let the comment about Raela go unanswered. She’d do more to the braggart than Jex could manage, and wouldn’t thank her big brother for interfering.
“Believe me, if it was important I’d have waited till morning. Goddess knows I didn’t want to see this.” He took a deep breath. “Things are stirred up in the city.”
“Not just the city,” Jex replied gravely, “It’s everywhere.”
“Aye, but we think this is different. The witch has been getting visitors. Very fancy, well-guarded visitors. They try to disguise the fact they’re money, but they’re piss-poor at it. Even their men stink of nobility.”
Jex sat up again, his languor abruptly evaporating. “The old hag above The Cauldron? I’d heard she died. Rather gruesomely, they say, which would serve her right. Diu take the vile bitch.”
Ophelius laughed bitterly. “You heard wrong, but that ain’t no surprise, seeing where you live. We tried to get rid of her, but she was ready for us. We lost every man we sent. All thirteen.”
“Black Goddess,” Jex swore, “What was Moravelle thinking?”
“That she needed to eradicate a vermin problem before it overran us.”
“Not often the rat bests the cat, is it?”
“This is serious, Xander. That old woman hasn’t had anyone to see her in years, decades even, and you know how it ended last time they started sniffin’ around. There’s council members involved.”
“Which ones?”
“That’s just it, we dunno. Haven’t been able to get anyone inside for almost a year, but you’re here now…”
“…and she wants to know what I learn, is that it? I’m not giving up Imperial secrets to her.”
“You will if she asks it,” Ophelius countered, “You’re sworn, remember? Just like the rest of us.”
“Like I could forget,” Jex snapped, “Tell her I’ll come to visit in a few days. I’ll see what I can find out in the meantime. You’ve got people on The Cauldron?”
“Day and night,” he confirmed.
“Alright. Now get out.” Jex lay back down and closed his eyes, waiting for his guest to make himself scarce. He heard Ophelius rise to his feet and cloth rustled.
Something soft landed on his bare abdomen. It wasn’t heavy, but he knew what it was as soon as it touched him and it took all his self-control not to murder Ophelius where the slimy little weasel stood. It wasn’t actually his fault the way the Shadow Lady chose to make her point; he was simply the messenger and there was some old saying about not killing those…
“See you soon, Jex.” He paused at the threshold. “Oh, and Raela sends her love. She’s well, and so’s your mother. I don’t let no one mess with either of them.”
Jex said nothing and the door closed as quietly as it had opened. Once he was sure Ophelius had truly gone, he rolled to his side and spooned up to one of his bedfellows, snuggling his face into her hair. She murmured and pressed back against him, but didn’t wake.
The room fell into silence and it wasn’t long before the mage’s breathing became slow and regular once more.
The second time the door whispered open, he didn’t stir.
* * *
“We’re ready to begin. You’ll present the proposal to the Grand Council tomorrow, while their strength is divided.”
“With all due respect—”
“Likewise, Councilor, but I didn’t employ you for your opinion. Your respect, however, is appreciated. The time is right and we shall proceed. I trust, lords and lady, that you won’t disappoint me.”
“Of course not. With things in Tesriel so stirred up and word getting out about the mages being attacked on the road, people are scared. Frightened people will agree to just about anything that promises them the illusion of safety and stability. It will be like shooting fish in a barrel, as that rather quaint aphorism goes.”
“Must everything be about fish with you, Adipem?”
“Shut up, you moron! No names, remember? These walls have ears and I’ve no wish to be executed just because you can’t hold your stupid tongue!”
“My apologies.”
“And the Ibirani envoy? What of her?”
“You needn’t worry about Laine. My…associate has persuaded her to cooperate.”
“Then the path before us is cleared. Shall we toast?”
“A bit early, perhaps, but what can it hurt? To the bright and illustrious future.”
“To the bright and illustrious future!”
CHAPTER FOUR
“Enari? Where are you?”
The penetrating voice of the Abdesa reached her even in the highest boughs of the old mahogany where she sat, the summons echoing through the otherwise still dawn. A few startled birds exploded into flight, winging away to safer roosts beyond the wall.
Heaving a quiet sigh, she glanced down. She could see the black clad figure far below and contemplated ignoring her. While it was unwise to disobey the head of the Cyrilan Temple, Enari felt the need for solitude this morning.
The dream had come to her again last night, as it had nearly every night for as long as she could remember. It was always the same; a presence pulling her up from swaddling, comfortable darkness into colors that pulsed softly in time with her own heartbeat. There were words, beautiful, melodic, but foreign words spoken by a hauntingly familiar voice. Words she couldn’t remember uttered by a presence she couldn’t see. They, like the rest of the dream, faded into the mist upon waking, no matter how hard she strained to recall them.
But something about last night had been…different somehow, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what that meant. So she’d come to her special place to think. She did her best thinking alone.
“Novice Namelum!”
When the call was repeated, and her surname used, Enari reluctantly pulled her gaze from the cloudy horizon and began her descent, dropping from branch to branch until she’d reached the last. She hesitated in the ancient tree, wishing she could remain in her leafy seclusion, then decided against it and leapt the last ten feet to the ground. Her landing was silent in the short grass, the dew chilly under her bare feet.
* * *
“Goddess where is that girl? She’s harder to keep track of than the temple cats!” the Abdesa muttered, squinting against the glare. This particular courtyard was not large, but it was full of shadows this early in the day and its many trees offered hiding places aplenty. She looked up as she walked, aware of the girl’s penchant for climbing.
A touch on her sleeve drew her head down sharply, but she managed to stifle the urge to flinch. After so many years, she should be used to the soundless movements of her ward, but she was still frequently surprised. She knew the novice’s intent wasn’t to startle, it was just her peculiar way.
“The kvinnas may be right when they whisper of her being fairy-born. Her mother certainly resemb
led depictions of the Vintyri well enough.” To the girl, she spoke firmly but kindly, “Enari, we’ve talked about this. You are to attend meditations and break your fast with the kvinnas and other novices before coming out to play. You’re eighteen now, no longer a child to run about as you please.”
The girl fished in a tunic pocket and brought forth a half eaten apple and held it up for inspection, as if to show she had fulfilled at least half of the previously given and oft-repeated command.
The older woman folded her arms.
Enari reached into a second pocket and brought out a small chunk of dark bread, a few nibble marks marring one corner. She presented it with a lopsided little smirk.
The Abdesa found it difficult to suppress the smile now threatening her carefully cultivated façade of severity.
“That is half a breakfast. I’ve seen a baby sugar glider eat more than that and I know you missed meditations again this morning, but I will give you some credit for the attempt.”
Enari lowered her gold-flecked amber eyes and looked away without speaking, a touch of pink rising in her cheeks. The Abdesa studied the novice before her as she fidgeted.
Enari Namelum was a little thing, considering she was almost half through her eighteenth summer. Her year-mates had outstripped her long ago and she could easily pass as one of the much younger novices. The Abdesa guessed the girl weighed no more than seven stone, even fully dressed and sopping wet, and that estimate was a generous one, especially of late. As a woman grown, the Abdesa herself was barely of average height and the top of the novice’s fiery head came just to her chin.
Diminutive stature notwithstanding, Enari was no child, and despite her best attempts to conceal it, she was quite lovely. And that hair of hers certainly set her apart.
Kvinna Vasi de’Curande, Enari’s Sura and Master Apothecary of the Temple, had once remarked that the girl’s hair couldn’t simply be described as ‘red’. She said it reminded her of a spice box she’d seen once at the Great Market in Rowan; paprika and vibrant curry, with hints of cinnamon and rich cayenne. Enari’s tresses were silky and long, almost to her hips now and the sun brought out streaks of gold amidst the red waves. She had adamantly refused to allow the kvinnas to cut it, becoming so agitated when they tried that the Abdesa finally ordered them to leave her be. While Vasi had accepted the order to keep Enari's hair uncut, she did require the girl to bind it back when she was working in the Apothecarium. Now, however, it tumbled free down her back and around her heart-shaped face, a bright contrast against her ivory skin.
Errant Spark (Elemental Trials Book 1) Page 4