by Mark G Heath
“ For Perrin’s sake, I needed them most of all,” said Grimoult his face twisted in exasperation.
“ I can’t progress the elixir without them, you know that.”
“ Ilberd, I cannot grow the berries unless I have sufficient white blood and it is taking longer and longer to collect. In fact, I wonder if there will actually be enough.”
“Don’t say that,” spat Grimoult. “ I have Campion on my back, every bloody day, nagging me for the elixir. ‘When will it be ready?’ ‘ Why haven’t you completed it yet?’. Every flaming day he is here.”
Alyssia and Ellen looked at one another but remained silent.
“ The trouble is, there is far too much trial and error, that’s why I have to keep asking for them. I must have wasted five batches so far in trying to get it right and I am pretty certain I will have it exact with the next attempt. It would be so much easier if I had been given the book, which contains the methodology, but no, that was too difficult for Campion to arrange, apparently. Of course, I don’t just have to create the elixir for Father Thomas, I need white blood to create the infusion for Redway also,” ranted the alchemist.
“ How much time have we?” asked Ellen.
“ Not enough I suspect. I have to perfect the Elixir of Calling to give to Campion. He then has to provide it to this Manfurian who is travelling to the village to make the Philtre of Awakening.”
“I had heard whispers that the Manfurians were coming to Aftlain,” admitted Ellen.
Grimoult nodded.
“Then even more white blood is required to create the Infusion of Melding which needs to be provided to Redway for him to add to the melted metal for his forging of the key. I would much rather be about creating the infusion but Father Thomas is insistent that the elixir is made ready.”
“ The Manfurians are due in the next day or two,” added Alyssia, “ Thomas has received word of their imminent arrival.”
“ Thanks for that,” growled Grimoult. “ The last things I need at present are two priests wailing at my door.”
“ Well they will just have to wait until we have enough white blood to use to grow the berries and for you to then create the elixir and also the infusion. Such fine creations cannot and indeed must not be hurried,” said Alyssia.
“ Huh, you try telling him that. He hates failure and cannot abide to be kept waiting. I am going to look an idiot if the Manfurian priest has the essence ready.”
“ What essence?” asked Ellen.
“ The Elixir of Calling is mixed with the essence. I don’t know what it is the essence of, that’s the Manfurians’ side of the arrangement. Together they create the Philtre of Awakening.”
“ Then perhaps the Manfurians don’t have it ready just yet?” suggested Ellen.
“ I doubt it. If they are nearly at the village in order to create the Philtre, they are likely to have the essence to hand,” said Alyssia.
“ I fear you are right,” muttered Grimoult. “ Damn, damn, damn. I am not going to be able to placate him, not this time. He will cast me out, I am sure of it,” said Grimoult, fear manifesting in his eyes.
“ Come now Ilberd, let’s concentrate on our part,” said Alyssia.
“ We need more white blood. If we get that, it doesn’t take you long to grow the berries in the glade does it?”
“No, I can do it in a moment if we need to. It will exhaust me, but it can be done.”
“ Okay, well that is something,” said Grimoult padding up and down.
“ What do I do if there is not enough white blood for both the elixir and the infusion? Then it is either the key or the Philtre, but not both?”
“ Hush now Ilberd, if we are going to be able to grow the berries, the white blood that we will acquire will be plentiful to use for the berries and also the infusion, believe me,” soothed Alyssia.
“ If that idiot Reznik hadn’t let the second white blood escape we would not be in this predicament,” cursed Grimoult.
“ Hang on Ilberd, you had Thaindire in this very house, you could have taken him for yourself and be home and dry by now,” reminded Alyssia.
“ I can’t over power a witch hunter, not on my own, don’t be ridiculous,” retorted the alchemist.
“ You weren’t on your own, Ilberd, you had them with you,” reminded Alyssia waving an arm towards the homunculi.
“ I wanted him out. He came here with one of my helpers as captive. At the time, all I cared about was getting my helper back and expelling the witch hunter. Anyway, don’t start suggesting I should have captured him, you had him in your glade and you still couldn’t enchant him.”
“ I was alone and his resistance was substantial, believe me. The white bloods are indoctrinated most of their lives to resist temptation. I’ve no idea how Kathryn managed it, she must have used something formidable to make him succumb.”
“ That maybe so,” commented Ellen, “ but he remains the solution, doesn’t he?”
“ He is the best and most immediate source of white blood,” said Alyssia.
“ Oh, is he waiting in the living room? Silly me, Master Thaindire, please do come here and let me slash your arms,” seethed Grimoult. “ That’s it, let it spatter all over, we need lots of it thank you.”
“ Alright, calm down old man,” said Alyssia.
“Don’t tell me to be calm, you are not the one who will be cast out if he doesn’t get what he wants and that means the infusion to create the key and never mind the Manfurians and their Philtre,” replied Grimoult waving his arms as he emphasised the items to be created.
“ Listen. Thaindire is the most obvious source of white blood. We know where he is and now that Kathryn has him enchanted, he is unlikely to be going far.”
“ What are you suggesting, Alyssia?”
“ We take Thaindire for ourselves. Kathryn is bound to waste the white blood on things for herself, rather than contribute to the grand design. She doesn’t seem overly interested in ensuring the preservation and continuation of this village, but the rest of us do.”
“ I agree with that,” said Grimoult.
“ So, what is your plan?” asked Ellen.
“ To be frank,” admitted the herbalist, “ I don’t have one yet. The idea to take Thaindire from Kathryn has only just presented itself.”
“ She will have him resist any attempt though, of that I am certain,” cautioned Grimoult.
Alyssia nodded.
“ I have no desire to find myself on the end of his blade either.”
“ No, he will be most accomplished with his weapon,” said Grimoult.
“ This isn’t really our fight,” said Ellen. “ Certainly, we are involved in the overall design, but in terms of the acquisition of white blood, especially now from a source that will be guarded and vigilant, it is better left to those who are equipped to tackle both a witch hunter and an enchantress.”
“ What? Do you mean hire Reznik?” said Grimoult. “ He will be expensive and to be honest, I don’t trust a man who is so easily swayed by coin. He lacks principle. He has no commitment. His only interests are the accumulation of coin and bragging about his fights.”
“ That said, won’t he be eager to ensnare Thaindire for us, having lost the other one, Vindicta?” suggested Ellen.
“ He is a proud man and the thought of besting a witch hunter is bound to appeal,” added Grimoult, “ but as I say, at considerable cost and who is going to foot that bill?”
“ No, I was thinking that Thomas Campion is the key to this,” remarked Alyssia.
“ How so?” asked Ellen.
“ He will lose standing with the Manfurians if the elixir is not to hand when they arrive or soon after. Plus, he also stands to benefit from the forging of the key. There is no doubt that I will be subject to a scolding from him when I tell him we are almost out of white blood but he is pragmatic enough to realise that berating me and moreover failing him, will achieve nothing.”
“ I agree,” commented Ellen.
“
I will speak with him as soon as I am able. He is probably the best positioned to assist in taking Thaindire. Once we have our hands on Thaindire, the problem is solved. He will be a rich and plentiful supply of white blood, for he is strong and of a fine constitution.”
“ Then be on your way, I have much preparatory work to continue with,” urged Grimoult.
Ellen and Alyssia collected their baskets and made their way out of the front door, bidding fare well to Grimoult. The alchemist closed the door, glad of the silence that enveloped him. His agitation at the lack of the constituent ingredient for the elixir still knotted his stomach and he looked at his hands, tutting to himself as he witnessed them shake. He thrust his hands together, each gripping the other tight and he walked back to his workshop. Grimoult opened a cupboard and perused the rack that was presented before him. He selected a small bottle and pulled out the cork, raising the bottle to his lips and quaffing the sweet, pink liquid it contained. Lowering the bottle, he felt the first wave of calm break over him, his distress being smoothed away by the potion’s caress.
“ That’s better,” he said to himself, returning the stopper to the bottle. He gripped the edge of the workbench; the sedative effect of the concoction becoming stronger and he felt the cosset of relaxation take him.
“ Poor Ilberd is too old to be cast out and moved on again,” he whispered. More slowly than usual, the alchemist shuffled his way around to the resting homunculi.
“ Alyssia knows what to do,” he continued talking to himself as he placed a hand against a jar, the homunculus inside curled up in a tiny ball.
“ She will resolve the problem. Yes, she will. And let us not forget, eh, my little helpers, old Ilberd still has his fallback plan in place. Oh yes, Ilberd is no fool. Oh I know they think I am some absent-minded eccentric, locked away in here, playing with my toys but there is none brighter than Ilberd. They all need me and even more so when my plan falls into place.”
Grimoult looked at his reflection in the glass and allowed himself a smile as another wave of calm rippled over him.
“ Time for a sleep I think, it has been a full day so far,” he said and turned away from the homunculi and made his way to the stairs.
Chapter Nine
Cyon Lancaster lifted a hand to his face and rubbed it, feeling the stubble on his cheeks and chin. His mouth was dry and his teeth felt numb. He sat up, the sheet sliding off him and revealing more of the naked woman lying to his right. The low candlelight caused her flawless skin to glow, the languid rays of light highlighting the soft contour of her right shoulder. He glanced down at her, her blonde hair spilling onto the bed as she slept, face half-pressed into the pillow. Lancaster’s mind filled with the sight of the blonde, her face buried between the other woman’s legs, her own cries of delight muffled as he had taken her from behind, his large hands pressing down on the small of her back, keeping her in position as he had had her. Lancaster turned to his left and there lay the second woman; also sound asleep and also naked. He mused on how quiet they were now, compared to the screams and protestations of ecstasy they had issued earlier. He did wonder, however, if they had been endeavouring to compete with the passionate cries that had floated across from Kathryn Dromgoole’s bedroom and he wondered which village resident had been enticed to lie with her. He had enjoyed bedding the young landlord’s daughter previously, for she was an enthusiastic and willing lover. He reflected on when he might take her again as doubtless she would not be satiated by whomsoever she had lured to the warmth of her bed last night. Lancaster cleared Kathryn from his mind and instead allowed his eyes to linger on the brunette beside him. She lay on her back, breasts exposed, firm and young. Her short brown hair was sticking up from where she had lain during her slumber, the green eyes which had flashed and glinted with desire as she writhed with Lancaster and the other woman, now closed, the passion extinguished. He could make out the slight traces of lime green residue from where the Carpathia had been poured onto her chest and then greedily licked off by both Lancaster and the blonde girl to heighten their senses as they revelled in their threesome. He leant across the second woman, his chest nearly brushing against her slightly open mouth, the full lips still as inviting as they had been the previous night as they explored Lancaster and the blonde. He took hold of the goblet from the bedside table and was pleased to find that it still contained some wine. He emptied the goblet in one and allowed the wine to swill about his dry mouth for a few moments as he sat in the silence of the room allowing him to awaken properly.
The women slept on, their slight breathing only just audible as Lancaster clambered over the brunette taking care not to wake her and looked again to the beside table. He found the square bottle, which had held the Carpathia, behind the goblets and picking it up smiled to see that there was some left. He swished the liquid from side to side and then tipped the bottle upside down, holding it over his open mouth. The Carpathia trickled out, a line of pleasure oozing from the vessel and hanging for a moment in the air before descending into Lancaster’s mouth. He let the liquid pool on his tongue, the tingling sensation starting to fill his mouth and once the last of the liquid had exited the bottle, he closed his mouth and held the concoction in place, allowing the burning feeling to build. His eyes started to water and then he swallowed, the warmth travelling down into his stomach. The familiar crescendo of well being soared inside him and he shuddered. Lancaster glanced back towards the bed and the two dozing ladies. He felt his ardour rising and toyed with waking them to continue where they left off, but the sensation was fleeting and instead, he walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. There, he picked through the various garments that had been thrown over it until he found his pants and shirt and dressed himself, buttoning the azure shirt until the penultimate button. He picked up the dark blue waistcoat and slipped it on, doing up the front. Lancaster patted the side of the waistcoat and felt the slight lump in the fabric and nodded to himself. He looked to the row of boots lined up against one wall of his sizeable room and picked out a pair of russet boots, made from suede and low cut, with a pointed toe. He slid the boots on, tucking the ends of his rust-coloured pants in and then rose again from the bed. Lancaster moved across to the window and pushed his head through the gap in the thick curtains.
The cold air enveloped his face as he looked out of the window into the yard behind the inn. Thomas Dromgoole was walking over to the stables carrying a saddle, his father appearing behind him. He could hear their voices drift up to him but was unable to discern what they were saying. He watched them disappear into the stables and then turned his gaze upwards over the stable roof to the wall of trees beyond. The baring trees stretched far away, the tangled branches and dense bushes, which grew between the trees creating the impenetrable barrier, which ensured that Aftlain remained isolated. Lancaster ducked back into the room and considered his reflection in the mirror beside the fireplace. Satisfied with his appearance he walked to the door and opened it, stepping out onto the empty landing. He looked over at Kathryn’s bedroom door, directly opposite his own. He walked across the landing and stood for a moment and toyed with rousing her in the hope of catching a glimpse of whom she had spent the night with. Lancaster raised one of his hands and formed a fist ready to knock but then though better of it.. He would find out the identity of her lover soon enough. Instead, he walked across the large rug placed on the floor of the landing and headed towards three doors set in the eastern wall of the inn. Sat waiting, on a chair beside the left-hand door, was Beatrice Mallory, the inn’s serving girl. She had a tray balanced on her knees, containing a plate of food, a jug and a goblet.
“ Morning Master Lancaster,” she said as he neared her.
“ Hello, Beatrice, how are you?”
“ All well with me, thank you. How about you?”
“I honestly could not be better,” answered Lancaster. He cast his gaze over the slim girl, admiring the cleavage on display and the narrow waist. Lancaster made a note to invite her to hi
s room during the week as he fancied that she had strong thighs and calves, given the amount of time she spent on her feet in the inn.
“ I must say, there was rather a lot of noise coming from Miss Kathryn’s room last night. I do hope she was not unwell.”
Beatrice placed a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“ What? Have I amused you?” Lancaster asked.
“Kathryn is not unwell, far from it. She had company last night.”
“ Yes, I rather assumed that was the case, I was perhaps, trying to be a little circumspect in commenting on the commotion that emanated from her room.”
“ Oh, I see, Pardon me, Master Lancaster.”
“ No matter. So, are we acquainted with her company or was it someone come lately to the inn?”
“ Yes, we are acquainted. It was Master Thaindire who stayed with Miss Kathryn last night,” said Beatrice.
“ Are you certain?”
“ As I am talking to you now. I saw Fenton and Ben carry him up to Kathryn’s bedroom. He looked to be in a bad way, soaked through and shivering. Seems Kathryn warmed him up though.”
“ How interesting. Where is Master Thaindire now?” asked Lancaster.
“ Still in there,” pointed Beatrice to Kathryn’s door. “ I haven’t seen Kathryn nor Master Thaindire this morning.”
“ Have you heard them this morning?”
“Not a sound.”
Lancaster reached to a pocket in his waistcoat. He removed a large, iron key and placed it in the lock of the left-hand door. He turned it and then replaced the key in his waistcoat before pushing down on the handle. The door opened a fraction. Lancaster looked back to Beatrice who continued to gaze ahead, staring towards the staircase.
“ Thank you,” said Lancaster lifting the tray from her lap and offering her a gold mark, “ you may go now.”
“ Thank you Master Lancaster,” said Beatrice and she curtsied, again keeping her eyes fixed ahead of her. Lancaster waited until she had descended the stairs before he pushed the door and entered the room.