Broken Mirrors

by A. F. Dery

  He washed and changed into a simple tunic and trousers and tied his hair back in a leather thong. He felt strangely reluctant at doing so- his disfigured attributes were far more pronounced when they were bared as they were now- but he immediately shrugged off the feeling. He had no one to impress, no one at all, and there was no point pretending he was something he was not. Besides, no amount of hair could really camouflage his ugliness, could it?

  Steeled with such thoughts, he returned to the outer room, where Kesara was sitting with her head in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

  He eyed her warily. “Are you all right?”

  She straightened and smiled thinly. “I am always all right, my lord,” she said dryly. To her credit, she did not react at all to his fully exposed face, and Graunt’s earlier words to her came back to him: you have seen horrors before...

  “Come along, then. There is only so much daylight,” he said, more curtly than he meant to, as he turned away from her.

  Thane’s laboratory was his only source of real pride, next to his troops and his kinsmen in general. It was actually the largest room in his tower, and unlike the others, it was kept immaculate with the help of only a couple of his most trusted servants, whom he had himself trained to the task. Most of the truly heavy work he did on his own.

  Like all the rooms of the Keep, it was composed of stone, but heavy wooden bookcases were fitted to the walls, crammed as full as they could hold with books and practically groaning under their weight. The walls of this room were so high that the windows were located even higher than Thane could reach on tiptoe, round panes of clear glass allowing sunlight to stream in and make the various glass beakers and tubes and receptacles glitter brightly on the various tabletops. It had its own fireplace, also like most of the habitable rooms in the Keep, but it was a massive beast of a fireplace, taking up most of a wall. Unlike his other private rooms, at least a small fire burned there without ceasing all year ‘round, many of the chemicals he kept stored in this room being volatile enough to require a certain temperature range not afforded otherwise.

  And there were cupboards upon cupboards situated throughout the room, fitted under some of the worktables or set beside, housing stoppered bottles and vials of substances in every color and viscosity an alchemist could wish.

  For whatever Thane’s talents on the battlefield, his real love, his consuming passion, the only lady that kept him warm at night, was explosions. Big ones, little ones, ones with pretty colors, ones that were little more than gigantic fireballs, if he could blow it up somehow, never mind what “it” was, then so it must be. There were no hidden grins in his laboratory; to so attempt to subdue his natural glee would somehow cheapen what they had together, he was sure of it.

  He could do more than just figure out interesting ways of destroying things with fire and corrosives, but he had to admit that his pet projects were usually along those lines. It was to his, and his country’s, benefit that the High Lord sympathized with his feelings on the subject. He made a comment along those lines to Kesara as she stared around her with her mouth in an “o” of wonder.

  “So...you make..”

  “Hand missiles, mostly,” Thane finished primly. “I don’t like to use them too much in actual battle, though. I feel they aren’t very sporting. Eladria is the only country I know of that has such capabilities, which is perhaps why the High Lord takes such an interest in my experiments.”

  “So you have been successful, my lord?” Kesara peeked at him from around a large glass globe on one of the tables nearest the door.

  “Mmmm,” he made a noncommittal noise. It was not common knowledge how far he had gotten, and he was still unsure of this Ytaren woman and her mysterious abilities. The truth was, he had been entirely successful, consistently and reliably so for some time now. He had not yet shared this with the High Lord. He had his own reservations on that topic. “All projects can use further refinement. Right now, however, I am working on a special request of the High Lord’s.” He sighed a little. That man’s interests felt so mundane compared to his own, for while he may have sympathized with Thane’s true passion, he was more concerned with other things. Duller things, though still not actually dull, by Thane’s reckoning. His interest may have been keenest with explosives, but alchemy still held allure to him in other arenas. It was only that this latest request had all the flavor of a test; a test of Thane’s abilities and expertise.

  There was something the High Lord really wanted from him, but Thane had no idea what it might be. Weapons came readily to mind- who couldn’t use more of those? - but still, he had to wonder. The High Lord’s little requests had begun at a level the local midwife could have accomplished and steadily grew in difficulty with all the subtlety of...well, Thane himself. Now he was supposed to be working on a special corrosive to clear bodies off a battlefield without destroying the land itself. Thane presumed the High Lord had meant enemy bodies. The very idea of leaving one’s own men to be cleaned away by some sort of acid turned his stomach.

  The trouble was, most acids would indeed poison the earth beneath. The High Lord had not been clear on what exactly the land ought to be good for or how much damage to it would still be considered acceptable, and in a way, Thane preferred this ambiguity. It challenged him. Of course, it could also lead to the High Lord’s displeasure, if in fact the man actually cared at all about what he was asking for. Thane doubted this very much and he tried to ignore the way that rankled.

  Fortunately for his shadow’s stomach, the project was not yet at the testing phase. Thane glanced around, realizing he’d have to bring in a chair for her. He preferred to work on his feet.

  “Wait where you are and don’t touch anything,” he said, and he retrieved one of the smaller chairs from the outer room. He set it down out of the way and she gave him an appreciative murmur as she sank down onto it.

  “You were able to keep the pain away from the distance between here and the outer room,” Thane remarked.

  “It seems my limit was almost halfway down the tower,” Kesara admitted, “but it was a hard thing.”

  “I’ll need to meet with Graunt privately this evening, will you be all right waiting for me outside? I can leave the door open.” He still didn’t quite trust her enough to think she might not attempt to eavesdrop if she stayed in the hall as he had done earlier.

  “That should be fine,” the Ytaren woman assured him. “The door doesn’t matter, open or closed.”

  He raised an eyebrow but she didn’t respond, still looking around wide-eyed at her surroundings.

  “Well, I appreciate silence when I work,” he said with all the subtlety of which he was renown. Kesara nodded, a small smile tugging the corners of her mouth, and Thane set to work.

  It had been a pleasant afternoon, Kesara thought, hugging her knees to her chest where she sat in the corner of Lord Eladria’s laboratory. The sunlight streaming in from the high windows and the crackling fire in the hearth kept the room cozier than anywhere else she’d been in the Keep, and the sparkle of the various glass containers and metallic implements was oddly hypnotic. Though not nearly so mesmerizing as Lord Eladria himself. He had long, quick fingers, and the surprising gracefulness she’d noticed earlier was in full evidence. His hands seemed to dance over his work space, and though she could not identify the strange tools he was using or the sometimes bizarre looking substances he used them with, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing and where everything was, and he moved with sureness.

  And, too, with his face set in a mien of concentration, his eyes ablaze with intelligent interest, he seemed...content. He did not look out of place among his troops, by any means, he was every bit the talented and much blooded warlord, yet it was here, doing gods-knew-what, that he truly looked at home. It was an odd thing.

  And despite her ignorance of the subject matter itself, Kesara could tell when things were going well and progress was being made. Lord Eladria would grin like a cat who had just taken down the
whole flock of canaries, completely unselfconscious and seeming quite oblivious to her mute presence. The first time she had seen that grin, which appeared to nearly split his already large face in two, it had been horrifying, yet in the space of one afternoon, she found herself growing, if not exactly comfortable with it, then tolerant. She no longer shamed herself with flinching, at least, or felt the urge to look away. Or run. It was definitely another sort of progress. His face, she thought, was not so bad, when one became accustomed through exposure. And his obvious delight at such times made her smile as well without even realizing it.

  Lord Eladria took only a brief break to eat a couple of hours later, taking her out to the same table where the breakfast that had broken no fast had taken place. The table was already heaped high with food, and he hadn’t even waited for her to get herself settled in her seat before he’d begun to tear into it.

  It was both vaguely nauseating and incredibly fascinating, to watch Lord Eladria eat. He would put an entire roasted leg of...something...in his mouth, his large jaw working visibly around it before he would pluck a naked leg bone from between his thin lips with the same delicacy as any lady sipping from a teacup. Entire plates of food would simply disappear with a swipe of one large hand and certain vague movements from his mouth, which he at least kept firmly clamped shut. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at him in amazement before he dropped a freshly denuded bone onto his plate with a flourish and asked casually, “Finding the entertainment to your satisfaction?”

  Kesara turned bright red and kept her eyes on her own plate for the rest of the meal.

  Afterward, they went straight back his laboratory and he again busied himself at his work tables while Kesara curled up on her chair. The sun was setting and reddish-orange light fading in the room when Lord Eladria finally began to clean up, stoppering bottles and returning them to their cupboards, wiping down tables and tucking books back onto the shelves. It was strange, seeing him engaged in such domestic toil, and Kesara was torn between soaking in the incongruous sight without disruption and offering to help. She ultimately decided to wait until she was asked, as he seemed happy enough doing it all himself.

  Cook would die if she saw how lazy I’ve been today, Kesara thought happily. I can’t wait to tell her.

  “What are you so pleased about?” Lord Eladria’s curious voice broke into her thoughts.

  “I’ve managed to do absolutely nothing productive today. Apart from pain management, and even your headaches don’t demand all that much from me,” Kesara replied, stretching a little. “It’s been like a holiday. How long do these headaches usually last, my lord?”

  “Normally not longer than 2 days, perhaps 3.”

  “And this is the second day now?”

  Lord Eladria inclined his great head in the affirmative.

  “Pity,” she said with a sigh. “Another day and I could have caught up on my reading.”

  “Reading? You can read?” Lord Eladria looked startled and she tried not to smirk. Really she did.

  “Did you think Eladrians had some exclusivity when it came to literacy?”

  “I never really thought about it, to be honest,” he admitted. “I know some of our neighbors do not take much of an interest in it. Many Eladrians do not, either. It is not exactly a priority for those who don’t need it. What sorts of books do you read?”

  Kesara coughed a little, her cheeks suddenly warming. “Oh, you know, nothing in particular...”

  “Ah,” said Lord Eladria gravely. “Has it...illustrations, then?”

  Suddenly Kesara realized how fascinating the stone floor was. Why, if one looked without focusing one’s eyes over much, one could almost make out patterns! Look, there’s a...circle!

  “There’s no shame in needing pictures to help you figure out the big words, Kes,” he said sweetly.

  Kesara looked up sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion, and sure enough, though his face remained grim, Lord Eladria’s mouth twitched and his shoulders shook slightly.

  “I’m sorry, madame,” he said, but there was that damned sparkle in his eyes. “I’m not accustomed to so much casual conversation, nor can I even imagine any of my other servants speaking so...directly...to me as you do.”

  Her scowl faded at once and her eyes widened in horror. “Oh dear, you are right about that,” she said sheepishly. Would her face never return to normal color, she wondered? “Forgive me, my lord. None of your servants would speak to me so, either.”

  “Perhaps that is the real issue,” he suggested, but he did not appear to be upset. “You should try to be friendly to your fellows.”

  “I did, I have, but I cannot seem to purge the taint of non-Eladrian blood from my veins,” Kesara answered mournfully. Then she frowned, turning thoughtful. “At least, not without a lot more bleeding than I’m really interested in doing.”

  This time Lord Eladria failed to turn away quite in time to hide his smile, and Kesara found, to her surprise, that this did not bother her at all.

  It was sometime during dinner that Kesara informed Thane that his headache was gone. “It’s been fading all day,” she admitted. “But now, I don’t think you’ll feel much of anything anymore, my lord.”

  Curious, Thane quickly swallowed a mouthful of roasted lamb and asked, “How do you know that?”

  The Ytaren suddenly looked uncomfortable, casting her eyes down and fiddling with her fork.

  “I’ve noticed you haven’t touched me all day,” he continued, taking up his flagon. “I had thought at first that this would be necessary, perhaps at intervals or something, but no contact is actually required for whatever you do, is it?”

  Still she was silent.

  “Oh, that’s fine. By all means, keep your own counsel,” Thane said pleasantly. “I’ll just ask Graunt about it when I see her later. I don’t think she would have spoken to you alone if she still had no suspicions about what is going on.”

  “I needed it at first, to establish the link between us, but that is all. Proximity is enough to maintain it.” Kesara seemed to be forcing the words out, slow and strained. Her eyes did not leave her plate.

  “Ah, that makes sense. So how do you know when the headache is gone?”

  “The link,” she repeated. He watched her, wondering if that was all she meant to say. Evidently it was.

  “Look, I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, but I don’t think wanting to know what, exactly, you’re doing to or with me is an unreasonable request.” Thane tried to sound gentle and understanding, but somehow the last half of his sentence came out as a growl and Kesara stiffened, dropping her fork and her eyes finally darting up to meet his. He cleared his throat a little and continued carefully, “Why don’t you want to tell me? If there is nothing objectionable going on, what’s the secret? You must realize by now that I am a fairly reasonable man. I have no desire to enslave you.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “But...once the ball starts rolling, it will be impossible to stop.”

  Thane blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “What I mean is...certain things in my life seem to be inevitable,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, my lord, I’m not trying to be mysterious. Far from it, I’d much prefer to be boring.”

  “So I’d leave you alone about it?”

  “Well, yes.” Kesara smiled a little. Her smile, Thane thought, was a strange, ephemeral thing, more like the faded ghost of a smile than reality. She showed no teeth, her cheeks barely lifted, her brilliant blue eyes were not touched at all. “And I’d rather be bored, myself. ‘Excitement thrives where darkness is dealt.’ That’s what one of my teachers used to say.”

  Thane considered this for a moment. “Yes,” he said finally. “Your teacher had a point. But not all excitement is related to dark dealings. What of the festivals, for instance, or the holy day feasts? People get excited about those things, and they’re hardly dark in nature.”

  Kesara tilted her head. “Not wholly, perhaps, but don’t the revele
rs get drunk and engage in all manner of immorality?”

  That surprised a laugh out of him. “Some, perhaps, but not all. And I suppose it depends on your standards regarding morality.” He thought for a moment, then added, “and drunkenness.”

  “Well, I think my teacher would say that it is the prospect of engaging in wicked pleasures that brings the excitement in those cases,” she said.

  “Your teacher sounds like he needs some Eladrian brandy and the professional extraction of some rod-like object from one of the lower regions of his anatomy,” Thane opined delicately. Kesara’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, plainly trying not to laugh.

  “That’s terrible! And I’m sure her bodily integrity is, uh, pristine, my lord. Sacrosanct, even.”

  “That bad, huh?” Thane turned his face to spare her the worst of his grin. “Even the inanimate objects can’t be enticed, eh?”

  “My lord!” But now she was laughing. “You ought to know you are speaking about a woman of religion.”

  “That you say ‘religion’ rather than ‘faith’ is enough to wholly substantiate my feeling that I have nothing to worry about,” he told her solemnly. She shook her head a little.

  “Where I’m from, religion is taken very seriously, and the people who dedicate their lives to it, even more so.” Kesara picked up her fork again, though she still no made no move to eat anything. Thane was starting to wonder about that. She was a small woman, it was true, but hardly an emaciated one, so how did she manage to subsist on the mouse nibbles he only occasionally saw her take? “Such irreverence in Ytar is a crime.”

  That caught his attention. “Is that so? What would be the penalty?”

  “That would depend on the judge, but public floggings are pretty typical, if there are witnesses.”