Harvest Tournament (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  The Voiceman’s lounge was where most of the wheeling and dealing happened behind the scenes in the Collected Provinces. It was very much a place for men, with a well-stocked bar, comfortable leather chairs, a humidor brimming with cigars, and frequent visits from attractive and sometimes less than ethical female lobbyists.

  “You make it sound so simple, Jonah,” said Voiceman Peck. “There are deeper complexities here, which frankly, I fault you for not addressing.”

  “The deal was done at the time of the complaint,” said Voiceman Jonah. “Any and every man should have the right to ownership of what they’ve paid for.”

  Mauve almost shuddered in boredom. He had a drink in his hand, a strong whiskey, and he took a deep sip, even though he hated the taste. Cigar smoke hung heavy on the air, and he would have lit one of those for further distraction, if not for the way the skin of his face ached whenever close to a flame.

  “The man signed a contract.” Voiceman Peck raised his fat shoulders into a shrug. “What else more is there to be said, here?”

  What else more, indeed? This was how nearly every weekend had gone since Mauve had been elected to the Executive Voice. Madina had run his campaign, and she’d had a good mind for it, along with the necessary organizational skills. Really, all that had been necessary was for Mauve to announce that he was running. The outpouring of support and sympathy had been what’d carried him to victory.

  “Voiceman Broven,” said Voiceman Peck, looking in Mauve’s direction. “Would you care to offer your opinion on the matter?”

  Mauve cleared his throat and sat up. There were only a dozen Voicemen, meaning that each and every vote counted, unlike the Whisperer’s Assembly, where massive voting blocks of hundreds of representatives held sway. It also meant that all the Voicemen had a much closer working relationship with each other, which in the case of Mauve and Voiceman Deliant, the man who was quickly growing to be his nemesis, was rather infuriating.

  “He cares not for these matters,” said Voiceman Deliant, interrupting just as Mauve had expected him to. “Assume he’ll vote with the majority.”

  “On the contrary,” said Mauve. “I do care, and I do have an opinion.”

  He brought a hand to his cheek, running it across the scarred flesh there. The other voicemen, Deliant excluded, had been remarkably understanding of his appearance. They cared about laws, regulations, and of course, above all else, money.

  “If I’m understanding this case correctly, it’s a dispute between a landlord and a homesteader who he sold a parcel of land to?” asked Mauve.

  Voiceman Peck and Voiceman Jonah both nodded. It felt like it was taking a massive force of will to keep his focus on the boring topic at hand, but Mauve managed it.

  “The homesteader discovered coal underground on his property after purchasing it,” said Voiceman Jonah. “He did as any working cuff man would do and began mining it to sell to the local town.”

  “Without informing the landlord,” said Voicemen Peck. “He signed a buyback clause when he purchased the land. The landlord has brought this situation to our attention as the homesteader is refusing to sell the land back at the original price.”

  “He shouldn’t have to sell the land back at all,” said Mauve. “If I have this straight, he built a house on the land, discovered coal, and dug a coal mine. Those improvements, in my mind, constitute developing the land to a degree that renders all previous contracts concerning it enforceable at the discretion of the current landowner, in this case, the homesteader.”

  Mauve’s tongue felt like the dry, dusty pages of an uninteresting scholarly text. He’d learned how to make and present his opinions to the others, but it was like driving nails through the part of himself that liked dueling, fast horses, and fast women.

  “Siding with the homesteader?” asked Voiceman Deliant, in an amused tone. “Interesting gambit, Mauve. I wonder if you know something about the amount of coal on that property that we don’t. Expecting some donations from an appreciative constituent in the future?”

  “I’m siding with logic,” said Mauve. “This is what’s fair, in my mind.”

  “Right…” said Voiceman Peck. “Let’s table the vote for now, unless anyone else has an argument to put forth?”

  Nobody spoke up. Mauve reached over to a decanter on the table and poured himself some more whiskey. It would just be a few more minutes, and he’d have his chance. Or at least, that was what he’d been telling himself.

  The evidence was there. He and Madina had been slowly gathering it during his off time. There were many people in eastern Cardvale who’d claimed to have seen a “mysterious flying monster”. There were a couple of small towns and hamlets that had been burned to the ground, even. It made Mauve feel terrible to mourn for the victims, while simultaneously appreciating the leverage the incidents gave him when it came to backing up his version of events.

  Voiceman Peck cleared his throat. “Well then, gentlemen,” he said. “Onto the next bit of business. The Courtesan’s Union has brought a matter to our attention concerning a recent bit of… unpleasantness.”

  “No need to beat around the bush, Peck,” said Voiceman Deliant. “A prostitute had sex with a man who had purchased time with her. The situation is fairly cut and try.”

  “That’s a gross oversimplification,” said Voiceman Peck. “The man had been stalking her and harassing her for some time, and brothel owner employing her claims that she was unfairly degraded and physically abused during the act of coitus. The Courtesan’s Union is requesting a law that would protect them from such incidents in the future by giving them the right to refuse clients at their individual discretion.”

  Voiceman Deliant shrugged his shoulders, looking remarkably unconcerned.

  “A brothel is a place of business, like any other,” said Deliant. “The Tafford Act prohibits any discrimination in the marketplace on a physical or trivial basis. I would imagine it extends to the whorehouse, as well. There’s no need for us to give these bottom feeders special treatment.”

  Voiceman Peck fidgeted slightly in his chair. “Their lobby woman has been… quite persuasive. I, for one, see the validity of her argument.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen more of her than just that,” said Voiceman Deliant. “The sluts don’t deserve the exorbitant fees they charge to begin with. This is nonsense for us even to be discussing.”

  “No,” said Mauve.

  All eyes in the room turned to look at him. If there was one upside to being the newest lawmaker, it was that he was still treated as a wildcard. Nobody knew who he’d side with on each individual matter, and most of them were doing what they could to figure him out.

  “I feel as though it almost goes without saying that each and every woman should have the right to say no,” said Mauve. “Even if money is involved, then they must be allowed to refuse clients based on personal preference.”

  “But the Tafford Act…” began Voiceman Jonah.

  “…was passed to address discrimination by humans against ogres, and vice versa,” said Mauve. “Parts of it could still apply to brothels, but these women clearly need to feel safe doing their jobs.”

  “I’m surprised to hear that out of you, Voiceman Broven,” said Voiceman Deliant. “Especially considering… well, you know.” He gestured to his face, grinning at the obvious discomfort of the others in his room.

  Deliant never passed up on opportunity to lean on Mauve over his deformity. It would be no different this time, and even though Mauve was expecting it, he still felt the prickle of embarrassment on his neck and cheeks, where there was still feeling left under the scars.

  “You must frequent the whorehouses occasionally,” said Deliant. “I can’t imagine many women manage to overlook your… condition. No offense, Mauve. I just think we should all consider the repercussions of our actions. The whores would turn you down if they had the choice. We all know that.”

  It took every ounce of willpower Mauve had to keep himself restrained. Th
is was their game. When it came to getting people to vote a certain way, politics was as much about facts and logic as it was an exercise in goading and needling emotions.

  “I stand by my reasoning,” said Mauve.

  “Let’s take a vote,” said Voiceman Peck, sounding like he wanted to clear the tension in the room, more than anything. “All in favor of putting this on the agenda for next assembly?”

  Mauve, Peck, and four other voicemen raised their hands.

  “All opposed?” asked Peck.

  Five voicemen, including Deliant, raised their hands.

  “Abstention?” asked Peck.

  Voiceman Jonah’s hand shot up. He was blushing slightly, and Mauve couldn’t help but wonder if the idea of weighing in on a debate about brothels was just too much for him.

  ***

  “How are you holding up?” asked Madina.

  Mauve stood in the hallway on the second floor of the assembly building, just outside the office he’d been assigned. Madina, who’d transitioned from managing his campaign to being his primary aide, was frowning slightly as she took in his expression.

  She wore a light blue gown that clung tight to her body, accentuating her eye-catching curves. She was in her late thirties, but her beauty had only become refined over the years. Her auburn hair was done up into a neat bun, and she wore a long pair of silk gloves that matched her gown, giving off the appearance of a professional, confident woman.

  “If I hear one more argument about the rights of paper producers to set their own size standards, or a dispute between cloth merchants and dyers, I think I might lose my mind,” said Mauve.

  Madina’s red lips curled up into a smile. She set a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Hang in there,” she said. “You’ll have your turn to present your argument by the end of today. This is what we’ve been waiting for.”

  Mauve nodded. He cupped Madina’s cheek in his hand and gave her a soft, somewhat hesitant kiss. She didn’t pull away or flinch back, despite his deformity, despite the difference in their ages, and even despite the fact that she was the mother of the girl he once thought he’d marry. She kissed him back, even pushing forward to let her body press into his.

  She was more than just his aide. She was a large part of the reason why he’d been able to keep living after losing Maddie, Hal, Lilith, and almost everyone who’d once mattered to him.

  “Feel like you need any last minute advice on approaching this?” asked Madina, as the kiss ended.

  “I should be fine,” said Mauve. “I’ve been putting in my time and playing their games. They’ll listen to me on this. And it’s not like I’ll be asking for all that much.”

  They would listen to him, thought Mauve, or he would make them listen.

  “Are you managing alright out here?” he asked.

  Madina flashed a coy smile and shrugged. “Well enough. Though, some of the Whisperers in recess seem incapable or unwilling to hold their tongues.”

  “What have they said to you?” asked Mauve.

  “Nothing too offensive,” said Madina. “They just seem to think they have their pick of the female aides.”

  Mauve nodded, suppressing a stab of jealousy. There was a group of men walking quickly down the hallway, and he took a step back from Madina to keep her at a more appropriate distance from himself as they passed.

  “Anyway, I should get back,” said Mauve. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

  Madina nodded. She locked eyes with him, and Mauve could see a shadow of the same pain and loss he felt. She’d lost her daughter. Mauve had lost his family and girlfriend. They both wanted answers, and he’d spent the last few months getting himself into a position where he could finally get them.

  “Good luck, Mauve,” said Madina.

  ***

  “Are there any other matters needed to bring forward before we adjourn for today?” asked Voiceman Peck.

  Mauve raised a hand. He’d foregone having another drink, but most of the others had trended in the opposite direction, with both whiskey and cigars. The meeting was almost at its end, and he was counted on the increasing inebriation of his fellow lawmakers to work in his favor.

  “I’ve received several reports from my constituents in eastern Cardvale concerning attacks from a mysterious, flying creature,” said Mauve. “I think it would be appropriate for us to include a provision for scouting edge of our eastern provinces, along with the area beyond it, in our next military spending budget.”

  The budget was due to be passed the following weekend. Madina had suggested it to Mauve as the best way to forward his proposal to the others. She had a mind for things like that, whereas Mauve was more concerned with the logistics and details of his would-be expedition in pursuit of the dragon.

  “Interesting,” said Voiceman Jonah. “I wasn’t going to bring it up, but I’ve received a few reports similar to that in the southern reaches of Mordona.”

  “The ones that I’ve received have been… very strange,” said Mauve. “And very worrying. I think it’s only appropriate to follow up on them.”

  “Hmm…” said Voiceman Peck. “A mysterious flying creature? That’s rather vague to justify sending out scouts. They cost more money than you’d think, especially with the budget stretched thin by the development of the new line of Shatter Cannons.”

  “One of the hamlets on the edge of the eastern desert was completely burned to the ground,” said Mauve.

  “Burned to the ground?” Voiceman Deliant flashed a cold smile. “Not unlike your own tragedy, then?”

  Mauve fought to control his reaction. He’d made an enemy in Deliant, which was no surprised. He had, after all, punched the man in the face. But he’d been hoping that he could slip the request by as something of concern to the Collected Provinces as a whole, rather than a personal matter.

  “Whatever it is, it poses a threat to our citizens,” said Mauve. “We could address it with say, a dozen field scouts. It would only take a month or two, in all likelihood. We send them out along the old Sand Way and have them report back if they find anything unusual.”

  “It’s not the cost of the field scouts that would hamper us, unfortunately,” muttered Voiceman Peck. “Supplies, preparations, equipment. It doesn’t emerge out of thin air.”

  “Neither do threats to our country,” said Mauve. “Which is why we need this expedition. These attacks are coming from somewhere.”

  “Your imagination, perhaps?” asked Deliant.

  Mauve stiffened. The room went silent.

  “Are you claiming that my constituents have lied to me about this?” he asked.

  “Voiceman Broven,” said Deliant. “Mauve. It’s clear that you’re still recovering from the tragedy that struck your family, both physically and mentally. I believe it’s affecting your judgement.”

  Mauve did everything he could to keep his reaction controlled. Peck was sitting next to him, and offered him a lit cigar. Mauve accepted it and took a long, luxurious drag, not so subtly blowing the smoke in the direction of Deliant’s face.

  “You need to let go,” continued Deliant. “I know it must have been hard for you to lose so many people you loved, but either get a grip and do your job responsibly as a voiceman, or resign from your position. Be a man about this, Mauve. Not a scared little boy.”

  Mauve stared at Deliant. His anger had already won, and he took the few seconds of silence that followed Deliant’s words to consider how best to hurt the man. He stood up and approached him slowly, keeping his expression neutral.

  “Let me see your hand,” said Mauve.

  Deliant sneered at him. “What is this?”

  Mauve seized his hand before he could react, holding it in a firm grip. He took another deep inhale from his cigar, and then pressed the lit end hard against the back of Deliant’s hand. Deliant screamed, and several of the other voiceman in the room stood to their feet.

  “You lunatic!” screamed Deliant, his voice pained and h
igh pitched. “You… you…”

  “Don’t ever talk to me like that again,” said Mauve. “Hopefully you learn your lesson, this time.”

  He left the lounge before anyone else could say anything. He was already regretting what he’d just done, and loathed himself for the dark satisfaction it had brought him.

  ***

  “What did you do?” asked Madina.

  Mauve shook his head.

  “It’s worse than whatever you’re imagining,” he said. “I just… lost it. It wasn’t even like I saw red. I just felt this sudden urge. I was angry, but it was deeper than that. Madina… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

  Madina frowned. Even with that expression on her face, she was still beautiful and confident. It made Mauve feel even worse. She was counting on him, and every bit as desperate for the closure and truth that the expedition could bring as he was.

  “Mauve, you’re not stupid,” said Madina. “You just… you have an issue with impulse control. Especially when it comes to your temper.”

  “There’s not much I can do about it now,” said Mauve. “I might be forced into resigning over this.”

  “You won’t,” said Madina. “You’re still being held up as an example of perseverance. A symbol for the strength of Cardvale, and the rest of the Collected Provinces. Short of killing another voiceman, I think they’ll let your outbursts slide.”

  Mauve nodded, but if anything, knowing that he could get away with what he’d done made it worse. Was he really that kind of person, now?”

  “You’re like a steam piston, Mauve,” said Madina. “The coal heats the water, which becomes steam, which powers the whole contraption. But it doesn’t work if you just force more and more steam into it. There needs to be a release valve, some way for that steam to release before it builds up and explodes.”

  “Sure,” said Mauve, unconvinced. Madina walked over to him and took his hands.

  “Let me be your release valve,” she said.

  She pushed Mauve back until he was sitting in his chair, and then kissed him softly. The feeling of her lips against his sent a jolt of excitement through him, and he ran his hands across her back as he pulled her down onto his lap.