Thomas

by Michael G. Manning

“Tell him I'll be there as quickly as I can.” She said goodbye to Delia and returned to her room to change into her training armor and temple tabard.

  Fifteen minutes later she approached Sir Brevis' study. The guard outside wasn't unusual in itself, but the two other men standing across from them were wearing her father's livery. She ignored them and marched into the study without pausing to knock.

  Two men were inside the room, one, Sir Brevis looked up at the unannounced entry. If he had been about to say something at the breach of protocol he changed his mind when he saw her face. The second man was her father.

  Lord Eisler looked at his daughter and smiled, the same overbearing smile he always wore. His clothes were rich and modestly adorned, his bearing proud, and his eyes carried the same confidence and intelligence that made him a lord to be respected by his peers, and feared by his enemies. “Islana, so good to see you after all this time. We've been quite worried about you.”

  “Good day, my lord,” she responded coldly. Her tone was formal, but her mind was racing.

  Her father tilted his head in acknowledgment, “No need to be so formal daughter. Your lady mother sends her greetings. She has been quite beside herself since your hasty departure.” He was the very picture of paternal concern. “The Grand Master assures me that you have been well taken care of since your arrival.”

  “He has been very kind.” Islana decided to dispense with the trivialities. “How did you find me, Father?” She used the last word with pronounced disdain.

  “Sir Brevis was kind enough to send us a letter.” He made that statement as though it were a proclamation of victory. “He seems to think you are interested in becoming a temple paladin. I've just been informing him that that won't be possible, given your duty.”

  Her eyes went to Sir Brevis in shock, but she kept her head, “I have found a different duty, Father. I won't be coming back with you.” She had almost said home, but that word no longer applied.

  Lord Eisler glanced at the senior paladin, “Sir Brevis, might I have a word alone with my daughter?”

  Brevis nodded, “Certainly, I'll be outside if you need me.” He looked at Islana as he said this, then let himself out.

  Lord Eisler turned on his daughter, his face angry, “Do you think to embarrass me in front of him? Your willfulness has gone too far. I expect you to pack up whatever things you've acquired and accompany me when I leave here. Am I understood?”

  “You can't bully me any longer. I have decided to devote myself to Delwyn, you have no say in that.” She glared at him, a look that might have given a lesser man pause.

  “The hell I can't! I've been far too lenient with you before, but that changes right now!” He stepped up to her, and she could see the rage in his face. “Take that ridiculous tabard off and go get your things.” He almost snarled the last through clenched teeth.

  A calm came over her, “No.”

  Her face stung, Lord Eisler had slapped her, hard, something he had never done before. “Perhaps you didn't hear me, Father, hasn't anyone told you 'no' before?” Her cheek was red, but she didn't waver.

  “Impudent bitch!” His hand rose again, but this time she caught it with her own.

  “I allowed you the first strike, out of filial duty,” she growled. “I wouldn't test my patience further, if I were you, Father.” Her anger filled the room like a blaze.

  From outside the room the guards could hear a loud crash, followed by a sound reminiscent of splintering wood. Lord Eisler's guard started to move. “Stop!” Brevis had a commanding voice. “Unless you want to create a diplomatic fiasco, I suggest everyone stay where they are.” He looked at the temple guards, “No one is to enter until I come out.” So saying, he opened the door and stepped in.

  The scene that greeted him inside was like something from a tavern brawl. Lord Eisler stood behind the desk holding a broken chair up in a manner much like a lion tamer. Across from him Islana held what appeared to be a leg from the aforementioned chair. She wielded it much like a club, and her next strike would probably have crushed his skull, if he hadn't warded it with the splintered furniture. I knew this would happen. Sir Brevis waded into the room, stepping over a shattered end-table.

  Islana spotted him and howled, “No! I am not leaving with that pig!”

  He barely ducked a wild swing, and got his arms around her. Lord Eisler apparently mistook his intentions, thinking the paladin had come to subdue her. Dropping the chair, he moved to grab her legs. Islana planted both heels in his chest, sending him flying over the desk to land in a crumpled heap.

  “Islana! Stop!” shouted Brevis. “You're not going anywhere!” He held onto her though she twisted like a wildcat. Finally, she relaxed. It helped that her father had still not managed to recover from his fall.

  Sometime later, they left the room. Lord Eisler looked a bit mussed, but appeared mostly unharmed, except for a minor scalp wound. The rest of his bruises were thankfully hidden, except for the injuries to his dignity. Islana had already been escorted to her room.

  Standing at the outer gate Grom was on duty. He held the heavy door as Sir Brevis escorted the nobleman out.

  “I won't forget this, Brevis.” Even battered, the nobleman managed to threaten; it seemed to be a habit.

  “Nor will my office. I'll expect payment for the damages,” countered the knight. The Grand Master was not a man to be easily cowed.

  Lord Eisler's face grew red, “You!” He seemed at a loss for words. “Fine! Here, take this! Enjoy your whore.” He threw a large pouch at the ground, where it exploded, spraying gold coins across the cobblestones. He didn't look back as he marched out, but his guards looked almost embarrassed as they followed.

  Once the door was shut, Grom began chuckling, “He should'a been born a dwarf! His mother would ha' left him out for the trogs!” Seeing the look on the Grand Master's face, he decided maybe it wasn't the time for humor, “I'll jus' help ye gather up yer money, perhaps.”

  Sir Brevis stared at the closed door for a long minute. The angry nobleman's last remarks had finally sparked his temper. Enjoy your whore. The words played back in his head. Lord Eisler had come dangerously close to being gutted without ever knowing it. Fool! Blessed with a daughter like that and you throw your wealth away. By wealth he wasn't referring to the coins.

  ***

  Thomas was waiting outside the library when Delia appeared, clad in a soft linen robe. She had a subtle glow about her, and her hair was loose, flowing in gentle waves over her shoulders and down her back. She had spent considerable time combing and brushing it after her bath, not that he would have known that.

  Delia smiled delicately at him, “I hope you haven't been waiting long.”

  “Oh no! Not long,” said Thomas immediately. He had actually been inside for an hour already working on an essay for his philosophy class. He had gotten so wrapped up in it that he had nearly lost track of the time. An awkward pause sent him searching for words, “So—do you like books?”

  “Not especially,” she replied, “but after meeting Islana I thought perhaps I should broaden my horizons.” She draped her hand across his arm, “Will you show me inside?” Though she had little experience of courtly graces, she knew quite well how to make a man feel like a gentleman. Or a beast, she thought to herself.

  Thomas felt clumsy walking her in that way, but he could think of no way to politely extricate himself. The desk clerk raised an eyebrow when he saw him walk in with a beautiful woman adorning his arm, but said nothing. He took her on a quick tour and even showed her the stacks. He was a frequent visitor there, not to mention his time serving as a library assistant. “Is there any particular subject that interests you?”

  She considered her reply briefly. Sexual innuendo would be unlikely to carry well at this point, so she kept it simple, “Do they have bestiaries?” Animals she knew, besides it would be interesting to see what men who spent their time buried in parchment and vellum thought about the creatures of the wild. Probably full o
f pompous half-truths and fairy tales.

  A short search brought them to a long dusty shelf near the back of the library. Good choice, she thought with a smile, but I'm not yet to that point in the game. She picked out an impressive volume with an embossed cover. “Will you read it to me?”

  That brought him up short, “Can't you read?” He felt like an ass as soon as the question left his lips.

  “Some, but not very well,” she answered honestly. In point of fact, her reading skills were rather rudimentary. Master Timon had spent some time trying to educate her in this regard, but she had managed to distract him quite thoroughly on most occasions.

  “Well no reason not to work on that,” said Thomas, leading her over to one of the many reading tables.

  They spent the next couple of hours leaning over the book together. Rather than read it to her, he had her practice her own skills, coaching her when the words were too obscure. He didn't seem to notice how close their chairs were.

  “We'll have to stop here,” he told her at last when he heard the evening bell ring. “The library is about to close.”

  “Oh no! We can't!” she protested. “This is the first time I've been able to focus like this. Can't we take the book with us?” She looked at him from under long lashes.

  Had her eyes always been that green?

  “The rules forbid removing books from the library…,” Thomas informed her. She frowned as he said this, so he hurried to add, “…but I do have a few primers in my room. You can borrow one of those if you wish.” That earned him a smile. She followed him to the men's dormitory, but she had no intention of borrowing a book.

  Once they got to his room he stopped, “Wait here, I'll get one for you.”

  “Thomas,” she said his name with some emphasis, “I don't think I can study it alone. Won't you please help me? It wouldn't hurt for me to come in for a few minutes, would it?” Her face was a combination of plaintive and honest.

  His expression was concerned, “If someone saw you entering my room, there'd be all sorts of rumors.” He couldn't stand the thought of ruining her reputation. She was far too nice to be the topic of gossip.

  “There's no one about right now,” she glanced back down the hall as she said this. “I'll make sure no one sees me leaving. You're so gallant to think of a lady's reputation.” She opened the door and stepped inside before he could think up any further objections.

  He quickly followed, shutting the door. Immediately, he felt that he'd made a mistake letting her in. The room was small, and the only proper furniture was the bed. He started to say as much, but she'd already sat down upon it.

  “This is fine; it’s actually more comfortable than those chairs in the library anyway.” She gave him an innocent look.

  There's a girl, on my bed. The room already smelled different, some flowery scent hung in the air. Putting those thoughts aside, he went to his writing table and got his primer on logic and philosophy. Then he paused, unsure where to sit.

  “Don't be so stuffy!” She patted the bed next to her, “Here, I won't bite.” Not yet anyway.

  He sat down, already cursing himself mentally, I'm so wicked to be thinking thoughts like this, she's perfectly innocent. The bed sank a bit under his weight, drawing them together. He should have moved further apart, but he didn't.

  She could see the battle occurring in his mind, but she had no doubt of the outcome. Just a bit longer, then I'll set the hook. “So, what's this book about?”

  That got him into more familiar territory, and he began to describe the subject in detail. At first, she was bored almost to tears, but his enthusiasm was infectious. Eventually she convinced him to let her read his essay. That turned out to be difficult, and he had to help her with quite a few of the terms. Before long he realized she was very close, too close probably, if anyone were to see them. At some point, she had leaned in against his chest, while his left arm had wound up behind her, the book was resting in his lap. He could feel her warmth radiating through his clothing, but he pushed the thought aside.

  It had gotten quite late, and Delia had stopped reading. Moving slightly, he could tell she was asleep. Now what do I do? He was pretty sure this was somehow going to turn out badly. Nevertheless, it felt really nice having her there. Her head was nestled against his chest and her hair had a bewitching scent. Without thinking, he leaned over and inhaled deeply. Softly, he lifted her wrist off the book in his lap and set the heavy tome on the floor. Wait. Where had her hand gone? Silly question, he could feel it resting in his lap, ever so close to... Stop! Stop right there. He didn't want to think about it.

  Fifteen minutes later his back was starting to ache terribly. He was leaning towards her and forward slightly, to support her weight, and the odd position was beginning to leave its toll on him. As much as he hated it, he slowly eased up from the bed, helping her to lie over on her side. She promptly curled up like a cat, fast asleep.

  Half an hour after that he was propped uncomfortably against the wall, and his neck was getting sore. Looking over, he realized she was staring at him, her green eyes catlike in the dim lighting. “Don't be stupid Thomas; it’s your bed, just lie down up here.” Her voice was soft, almost soothing.

  “I'm ok, unless you mean you're leaving,” he answered, hiding his disappointment as best he could. He probably couldn't sleep on the floor, but having a girl in his bed was such an exotic experience he was willing to lose a night's sleep just watching her breathe.

  “No, I'm not going anywhere at this hour, just get in,” she told him. “I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides, you've been a perfect gentleman, I'm sure I have nothing to fear.” Too much of a gentleman if you ask me, he's a harder nut to crack than even Timon was.

  Thomas stood up, uncertain, the room was cold, and he was almost shivering. Finally, he made up his mind and started to climb into the bed, but Delia stopped him, “Wait. Take those off. You don't sleep in all those clothes do you?” Her voice was full of amusement.

  If the room had suddenly caught fire, he would have been less surprised than that statement made him. No, I usually sleep naked! He was pretty sure that wasn't what she intended. Ok I'll leave the undertunic on. He slipped his robe and boots off, then his belt and outer tunic. His heart was pounding as he climbed past her to lie near the wall.

  Delia slipped the covers over both of them and promptly eased against him, her warm back against his stomach. Thomas was careful not to move. “Here.” She reached around and pulled his arm over her, letting it drape across her mid-section. Do I have to do everything? she thought silently.

  Then again, it was rather exciting to slowly insinuate her way into his arms. If she hadn't been sure before, she was certain now. He's a virgin... how delicious. “Just pretend I'm your sister, and it won't bother you so much,” she added.

  Thomas was fairly sure that if he had had a sister he wouldn't be thinking the thoughts he was at the moment. Nor would he have an erection. He listened to her breathing for a long time, until at last it seemed she had fallen asleep. Finally, he relaxed himself, and without realizing it, drifted into slumber.

  Delia crept quietly out of the bed, listening to his light snores for any sign he might wake up. Shimmying, she snaked out of the dress Islana had lent her, pausing for a moment to enjoy the cool air on her skin. Naked, she slipped back under the covers and rolled up against him. He was on his back now and sleeping soundly. Sliding her leg up and over his, she could feel it now, warm against her thigh. Mmmhhh! She was trembling with excitement. I might have to give more thought to virgins in the future.

  She pulled his hand over and placed it on her breast, then she reached down, searching for his manhood. Pulling his tunic up she began to softly fondle him, watching his face. She knew he would wake soon, but by then it would be far too late. My Thomas! You really are an exceptional man. His member was swelling rapidly, and its growth was quite prodigious. Poor Islana, she has no idea what she's missing. He began to writhe in his sleep, and his breath
ing quickened.

  Thomas' eyes flicked open. Delia's face was inches away, he could feel her soft flesh under his hand, and the sensations coming from his groin were indescribable. Groaning, he moved closer, and her open lips met his. Surely this isn't happening, he thought. Her hand was stroking him, guiding his turgid member closer to something warm. She parted her legs, as he rolled atop her, preparing to receive him.

  “That's it Thomas! Give me what I want,” her voice was crooning in his ear, while her hands gripped his buttocks, encouraging him to seek his pleasure. Something about her tone made him pause, hovering above her. She urged him on, “No, don't tease me! I need it!” She lifted her hips upward.

  Thomas was panting, his body quivering, but still, he didn't move.

  “She currently sees men and her dealings with them in a very 'transactional' manner,” Timon had said. Why was he thinking about that now! Opening his eyes, he could see her beneath him, and there was no doubt in her hungry gaze as to what he should be doing.

  “Thomas, please... I need that now,” she said, staring at the product of his lust.

  “If things continue as they have, she'll be nothing more than amoral, devoid of human empathy,” Master Timon's words came back to him, even though his body was screaming at him to ignore them.

  Finding his determination, he shook his head, “I can't do this to you Delia.”

  His expression had softened, but she was having none of it. She began reaching, trying to get hold of him. There's more than one way to skin a cat. Turning he fought to keep his staff from her grasp. Grabbing her hands, he pinned her to the bed.

  “Oh, you like games, eh?” She gave him a wicked look. Lifting her legs, she scissored them around his waist, trying to get some leverage.

  “No, Delia. I'm not going to do this. You deserve better,” he told her firmly.

  She switched tactics and used one leg to push off against the wall. Everything twisted for a moment as they fell to the floor with a thump. Delia knew this wasn't going to work, but she was beyond reason now. She wrestled with him, as if to seek by force what he refused to give. Minutes went by as they struggled on the cold floor, grappling.