by Sharon Green
The gardens were lovely and inviting, but not as inviting as the path to the left leading to the bath house. Jovvi moved as quickly as she was able and stepped inside—only to find the bath already occupied. And by a man. The lack of solitude was disappointing, but far from discouraging. She’d bathed many times in the company of men, but wouldn’t have let his presence stop her even if she hadn’t. Her need for that refreshing water was much too great, and besides, what she could see of the man was far from uninteresting.
Jovvi lost no time in getting out of her clothes and into the water, and her companion did nothing to acknowledge her presence. He seemed far too involved with scrubbing his light hair, which probably meant he was another applicant. Her own hair felt twice its normal weight from having soaked up her sweat, but the delightfully warm water would soon take care of that—once she’d soaked a bit.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” her companion said suddenly, “but I seem to have lost the edge of the bath. If you’ll guide me back to it, I’ll introduce myself in the proper way once I can see again.”
He stood with his eyes closed tight against the soap he’d been using in his hair, which was clearly how he’d gotten turned around and moved too far from the edge. Jovvi chuckled at the charming way he’d put his request for help and moved closer to do as he’d asked, but couldn’t help being somewhat impressed. He was a beautifully large man with broad shoulders and rock-hard arms, a wide and well defined chest, narrow waist, and strong legs. He was impressively made in another way as well, finishing off a picture her patrons had rarely matched. Wealthy men were rarely beautifully made as well, which might be why they’d had the time to become wealthy.
Jovvi carefully turned the stranger in the proper direction, then watched as he groped his way to the towel lying at the edge of the bath. He used it first on his eyes and then to interrupt the dripping from his stylishly long hair, and finally turned back to her to say, “Lorand Coll, Earth magic, at your—”
And that was as far as he got before his mouth dropped open and his lovely brown eyes widened. Obviously he hadn’t been expecting someone like her, as his handsome face actually darkened with a blush. Jovvi found that delightful but wouldn’t have laughed aloud for any amount. The poor man was already horribly embarrassed, which his next words more than proved.
“Naked!” he blurted, clearly the foremost thing bothering him. “We’re both naked, and you’re a woman!”
“How lovely of you to notice,” Jovvi couldn’t help replying, tickled that he seemed to be worried about her virtue. She’d never met a man who’d worried about that before, at least not with her. “I’m a woman and you’re a man, and we’re both unclothed. Do people usually bathe in their clothes where you come from?”
She’d tried some gentle teasing to make him relax, and even moved away from him to help his distress. But he was such a lovely sight that she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him, and so was able to see that her teasing hadn’t helped. Possibly a little flirting then, which most men usually appreciated and responded to.
“That was a silly question and I’m glad you’re ignoring it,” she said with her most attractive laugh as she bent her knees to let that deliciously warm water reach more of her. “Ummm, this feels marvelous, Lorand Coll. I’m Jovvi Hafford, Spirit magic, and I have the feeling you’ve never bathed with a woman present before. I thought the custom of mixed bathing had spread everywhere.”
“Not everywhere,” he disagreed, his pleasant voice somewhat strained, and once again Jovvi was impressed. Another man in his place might have tried to claim that he wasn’t disturbed by the situation at all, but this man seemed more inclined to speak the truth. That was a rarity beyond price in her experience, since people—and especially men—never spoke the actual truth to her. Her first urge was to continue flirting the way she usually did, but this man deserved better.
“Then I really must apologize,” she said instead, trying to give back the honesty she’d gotten. “If you’re not used to mixed bathing, then you must be horribly embarrassed. I should have waited until you were through and gone, instead of barging in and intruding. I’ll wrap up in a towel and wait outside, and you can—”
“No,” the man interrupted, both her words and her exit, his tone firm and no longer uneven. “I won’t hear of you waiting for what I know you need so badly, not just to soothe my backward beliefs. It so happens I was just about through anyway, so please let me be the one to allow you your privacy. It’s the least I can do for being so rude.”
Jovvi was certain the man must be trying to impress her with false gallantry the way men usually did, but one look at Lorand Coll told her it wasn’t so. The man was still being absolutely sincere, and there was no doubt that he really would leave.
“That must be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she told him with her own honesty and the sort of smile her patrons had never gotten to see. “I’ll accept your offer if you insist, but it would be perfectly all right if you stayed. I won’t mind in the least.”
Jovvi realized her basic distrust of people had made her test Lorand’s sincerity, but amazingly she didn’t end up disappointed.
“I’d mind staying even less than that, but I think it will be better if I go,” he said, flashing her a very handsome smile before turning to the steps. “I’ll be out of your way in no time at all.”
See, he really did mean it, she gleefully told her suspicion, watching Lorand leave the bath. There were those who claimed that men like him could be found all over, but until today Jovvi had considered the claim a fairy tale. Men had always been quick to do things for her, but always for what they expected—or hoped—to get in return. This man could have bartered the opportunity for privacy, asking for her use now or some time later, but he hadn’t said a word about it.
But he also isn’t gone yet, her suspicion pointed out in rebuttal, and you can’t say you didn’t notice how interesting he found you. Let’s see what he says before he does leave.
Jovvi was content to wait and see, especially since she had the back of Lorand to look at while he dried himself. And a lovely back it was, so broad and nicely muscled and leading down to hard, firm buttocks and those strong, well-shaped legs. He was a desirable man, all right, but Jovvi didn’t realize completely just how desirable he was until he was all dressed, had gathered up his dirty clothes, and was heading for the door. Without saying anything else, she smugly pointed out to her suspicion. But that didn’t mean she had to stay equally as silent.
“It was nice to meet you, Lorand Coll,” she said as he was almost out the door. “See you later at dinner.”
“I certainly hope so,” he responded without turning, and then he was gone just as he’d said he would be. His clothing was awful, not just out of style but never in style, but that meant nothing. Jovvi was usually surrounded by sophistication, and knew better than most how quickly it became tiring.
But once dressed, Lorand had somehow looked familiar. Those two men who had arrived together at the same time she had; could he have been one of them? It didn’t really matter, unless one looked at the coincidence as some sort of sign. She and Lorand might be meant for each other, especially since she’d need someone like him once she had her residence established. His presence would discourage patrons from trying to stay beyond their allotted time, and then she could find her own pleasure spending the night with him. She’d never actually had extreme pleasure from a man, but something told her Lorand was one who could supply it…
Jovvi suddenly laughed at herself, interrupting the daydreaming to get down to the business of washing. She was still stuck with having to go through those “sessions,” and so, obviously, was Lorand. Until she found a loophole in the law to free the two of them, making plans was a foolish waste of time. Time that could be used more profitably napping while waiting for dinner to be ready.
It would have felt good to soak in the bath for the next hour or two, but Jovvi knew that the longer she waited
, the harder it would be to get herself moving out of there. So she washed her body and hair, being careful not to lose the edge of the bath, then dried and dressed. On the way back to the main house she passed another woman obviously heading for the bath house, a tall woman with reddish-brown hair who was pretty in a hard, obvious way. The other passed Jovvi without a word or a glance, so Jovvi shrugged to herself and simply returned to her room.
Stretching out on the bed felt wonderful even if she was fully clothed. Getting in and out of her things was completely beyond her, and there was still dinner to look forward to. But not before she’d napped a little … and then added a few touches of makeup … brushed her hair … hid her gold…
So you see some of us had an easier time of it than others. Meeting each other, I mean. None of that first part was easy, nor were the times that followed. I often found myself wondering if it was really worth what we were putting into it, but most of that came later. It was when—Oh, all right, I’ll tell it in the order it happened. There were other things happening as well, much of which we either heard about later, or put together with guesswork.
You see, it was—All right, all right, I’ll stop telling them about it and show them! But if you feel so strongly about my innocent comments, I’ll just have to make fewer of them in future.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The room was large but austere, containing nothing but a long table with chairs around it, and half a dozen lamps on the walls lit the surroundings but failed to warm them. The lamps were lit because of the lack of windows, but the six men who entered seemed not to care. The last of them closed the door firmly, then went to take his place at the head of the table. He was quite ordinary looking, from his appearance no more than a prosperous businessman. He wore silk trousers in gray which flared at the ankles, a pale blue shirt with just a hint of ruffles, and a darker blue coat which reached no longer than his waist. An ordinary businessman who carried some papers, his unremarkable features showed nothing of an expression.
The other five men present were not the same. They were clearly individuals, but the resemblance each had to the others was quite noticeable. All of them were of middle years or approximately so, each had a pleasant, oval face which inspired trust and friendliness, and none of them was remarkable in any negative way. All had medium brown hair and unprepossessing brown eyes, average builds on bodies of average height, and hands unmarked by any sign of manual labor. They dressed in varying colors, but all wore the same sort of loose-sleeved shirt and cloth trousers. Nothing remarkable, except for the remarkable resemblance.
“You may begin your reports,” the man at the head of the table announced, removing a pen and jar of ink from the inner pockets of his coat. “Am I mistaken, or have we finally reached the end of the flow? Air?”
“Yes, sir, we have reached the end of it,” one of the five responded with a faint smile. “The last of the applicants arrived and were processed, and now we’re almost ready to move forward. Would you like the figures?”
“If you please,” the man at the head of the table agreed, his pen already inked and now poised over the papers set before him.
“This month, the final month, the Air magic applicants totaled twenty,” the other man obliged. “Three of them proved to be no more than ordinary Middles, incapable of drawing in more of the power than that level calls for. We rescued them before they died, thanked them gently for coming, then sent them home. One of them cried, but they all went.”
All five of the men who resembled each other chuckled, adding to the impression of similarity, and then the man representing Air magic continued.
“Of the remaining seventeen, fifteen died. Nine of them were flawed potential Highs without the proper capacity, so they weren’t able to handle the amount of power necessary to solve their dilemma. The summoned power burned them out, and we disposed of the bodies as usual. The other six might have been the same, but there’s no way of knowing. They lost their nerve at some point, which made them lose control of their ability, and then they died. Only two passed the test and survived, one not long after the first of the month, the second today.”
“Well done,” the man at the head of the table commented, most of his attention on the figures he wrote. “And those two were given the proper drink, were they not? Along with the proper instructions?”
“Should it become necessary, they will certainly respond to the orders given by someone in authority,” the second man agreed comfortably. “Neither of them noticed a time lapse, so they had no idea almost an hour had passed from the moment they took their first swallow of the drugged water, to when they finally drained the cup. They’ll be no more of a problem than any of the others.”
“Excellent,” the man at the head of the table said, taking the two sets of papers handed to him. Then his glance went to another of the five. “Earth?”
“The applicants in Earth magic did about the same,” the third man supplied easily. “Five were Middles and therefore rescued, ten died and were disposed of, three survived and passed. All three responded properly to the drink and none of them noticed a thing.”
The man at the head of the table wrote again, accepted the three sets of papers passed over, then said “Fire?”
“Fire magic had twenty-two applicants this month, and five turned out to be Middles,” the fourth man answered with a faint smile. “Thirteen died trying to do more than they had the ability to, and four survived and therefore passed. The ordinary people of this land don’t know how grateful they should be to us. We cull those who are born unfit before they’re able to pass on their handicaps, thereby keeping their numbers manageably low. If not for us, every town and village and city would be knee-deep in flawed Highs.”
“Making the general population that much more difficult to control,” the fifth man agreed with a short laugh as the fourth handed over his sets of papers. “Water magic applicants were just as cooperative, with thirteen of the nineteen dying. Two were Middles and were rescued, four were unflawed and therefore passed. At least to this point. What they’ll find it possible to do next remains to be seen.”
“Especially when they find themselves competing with other applicants who have been here and practicing for months, if not all year.” This from the last of the men, who wore his own faint smile. “At least a third of them won’t survive, and another third will try to withdraw. My figures for Spirit magic, by the way, are seventeen applicants, two Middles, another thirteen dead, and two who were successful. Successful, that is, for the moment.”
All five of the men chuckled at that, but the one at the head of the table was too busy finishing the figures and gathering up sets of papers to do the same. By appearances he neither approved nor disapproved of the banter, and when he’d put everything in order he looked up again.
“So much for the substantive part of your reports,” he said, glancing around. “Now I will ask you for the final time: has any of you seen anything that might match one of the Prophecies? It won’t necessarily be anything overt, remember, as some of the verses refer to happenings that are quite subtle. The more obvious signs will come ‘out of the sight of the Five’s enemies,’ which at this point would be us. Is there anything to report?”
“My report is that there’s nothing at all to report,” the man representing Water magic replied calmly but confidently. “I’ve been watching carefully, and none of the applicants seemed especially heroic. Some, in fact, appear to have personal flaws which will see them quickly eliminated. No one has asked this before, so allow me to put the question which is surely in all our minds: Is this matter of the Prophecies something that should concern us to this great a degree? I know of no one who actually believes that the infamous Four will return, or that it will take a special Blending to defeat them. These are children’s stories, and it’s almost inconceivable that anyone in authority can take them seriously.”
“These … children’s stories, as you put it, have come true more often than you know,” the
man at the head of the table answered bleakly, apparently unsurprised by his underlings’ skepticism. “It has been the firm policy of our superiors and their predecessors to claim otherwise, to weaken the belief of the populace in the Prophecies. But we ourselves know better, and you had better know the same. When various Blendings compete for the Throne in a short while, the special Blending mentioned in the Prophecies is supposed to be among them—and even more, is supposed to win.”
“Then they must be among the talents who will form Blendings from those applicants who are nobly born,” the man representing Air magic offered in a calm and reasonable tone. “They’re excused from going through this same nonsense required of commoners, so what would be more logical? And since it will be one of their Blendings which will win as always, that fits as well.”
“Are you all deliberately missing the point?” the man at the head of the table demanded irritably, for the first time showing more than equanimity when the other four murmured their agreement with Air. “Of course noble Blendings have won the Throne for the last seventy-five years or more. No other outcome has been allowed. This time, however, is not meant to be the same, for it’s the time spoken of in the Prophecies! Is none of you able to take that in? The Prophecies are not to be dismissed, they’re to be worried about!”
The other men sat back with raised brows over the outburst, not quite daring to exchange glances among themselves. Their superior was obviously not joking, which made the entire situation extremely bizarre.
“But … that makes for greater confusion rather than less,” the representative of Fire said at last, speaking slowly. “If the Prophecies do come true after all then somehow the infamous Four will return to take over. They turned everyone into virtual slaves before they were defeated by the first Fivefold Blending, and if they return and regain their position, they’ll do the same again. With that in mind, why are we searching for the Five meant to stop them? To give them our support? But that doesn’t—”