The Women's War

by Jenna Glass

  “Where did you get that book?” Chanlix asked.

  “Perhaps best you not know.”

  As abbess, it was Chanlix’s duty to reprimand the girl for her sauciness. If she was to be the true leader of the Abbey, it would behoove her to establish an air of authority, especially when she was so young for the position. However, she couldn’t bring herself to quell Rusha’s enthusiasm.

  “We may have words later about how to treat your abbess with the proper respect,” she said mildly, “but please do tell me what you’ve learned.”

  Chanlix was constantly aware of the mote of Kai that clung to her and to the other defiled abigails, and it was a nagging source of frustration that they could have possession of such a powerful element and not have any way to put it to their advantage. If it behaved like men’s Kai, then it could be used all by itself to kill a single person—assuming that person was not using magic designed to repel Kai. Chanlix had refused to allow any of her abigails to test whether they could use their Kai in that way—the Abbey was in enough trouble as it was without any sudden, unexplained deaths, and Chanlix was fairly certain she’d made a convincing case with her abigails as to why they needed to keep their Kai secret.

  “I think I’ve found a way to use our Kai without endangering the Abbey.”

  “Go on.”

  “According to this book, Kai can often be used as a negating element. For example, if you add Kai to a spell that would shield you from arrows, the spell would draw the arrows to you instead.”

  Chanlix gave a soft snort of laughter. “I wonder who was willing to waste a mote of Kai to discover that?”

  Rusha laughed, too, though there was an edge to her laughter. “It’s actually an improvisational battle spell for men who are not wealthy enough to afford a death curse. If their opponent has a protective spell active, they can force the Kai into the spell and reverse its effect. It also gets around Kai shield spells because those are meant to negate its ability to kill, not stop it from interacting with other active spells.”

  Chanlix imagined that using a spell to negate an enemy’s shield would be prohibitively difficult in the heat of battle—especially when one was in the process of dying—but such a thing probably succeeded every once in a while.

  “Regardless, that is merely an example,” Rusha said. “But it started me thinking. Most death curses will be beyond our reach because they are worked with masculine elements—and because we dare not use them, of course. But it occurred to me that we might already produce a spell that could be used in reverse to a man’s distinct disadvantage—without killing him.” Her smile grew positively wicked, and her eyes sparkled with a malice Chanlix would not like to see turned on herself.

  Chanlix was about to prompt the girl to continue when she realized herself just which spell Rusha was thinking of. “Oh!”

  Some of the most commonly purchased potions of the Women’s Market were those that contained spells for male potency. It was natural that men should be jealous of the ability of some women to climax repeatedly, and the best way they could simulate that ability was to keep their own…enthusiasm…from flagging after climax. It was a rare man who purchased the services of an abigail from the pavilion without assuring that he could pleasure himself multiple times with her body. There was also a milder form of the spell that would help a man who was unable to perform.

  “You think adding Kai to a potency spell will render the user impotent?”

  “Yes. And perhaps if we combine it also with Sur…”

  Sur. The element of permanence. It was never used with potency spells, for as much as men adored their erections, they did not want to be in a permanent state of arousal.

  Rusha giggled with what could only be described as pure glee. “Imagine it, Chanlix. Er, Mother Chanlix. Imagine if we could punish the men who attacked us with a spell that they might feel is even worse than death!”

  “I must admit, there is a certain poetry to the idea,” Chanlix said. “But of course we cannot be certain the spell will work as we think until we test it.”

  “Exactly,” Rusha said, eyes shining once more. “One of my…admirers…has sent word he would like to reserve my services one more time before our exile begins. He has said he will arrive shortly after sundown and that I am to make myself available.”

  Chanlix snorted. That was not the way the pavilion worked. A woman of the pavilion went to the highest bidder the moment the auction was closed. A man could not reserve her services in advance.

  “I thought maybe tonight we might make an exception to our normal rules,” Rusha suggested. “Just for this one particular gentleman who has been such a devoted user of our services. A farewell gift, as it were.”

  “You are willing to use your Kai for this test? Even though it might fail?”

  “I am more than willing, Mother. I am eager. And I don’t think it will fail. Do I have your blessing to try?”

  Chanlix tried to imagine exactly how Rusha would pull this off. She would need her customer to utilize a potency spell—that part should not be difficult.

  “If our Kai is like men’s Kai,” she said, thinking out loud, “then it cannot be bound into a magic item or potion. It can only be used as a trigger.”

  Rusha nodded, rather reluctantly. “That does appear to be the case. I, er, tried to put it into a potion, and it did not take. I will simply have to wait until he drinks the potion and the spell takes effect before I use my Kai.”

  Meaning she would have to open her Mindseye—in front of a customer!—and then push her Kai into his body.

  “I’ll make sure he doesn’t see anything,” Rusha hurried to say, no doubt reading Chanlix’s doubts.

  But Chanlix wasn’t sure Rusha’s precautions would be sufficient. If her plan worked to perfection, the man would not know that she had manipulated the potency spell. But what he would know was that he’d used a potency spell and then been struck impotent. There was no question that he would blame the Abbey for his misfortune.

  “I’m not sure this is such a good idea,” Chanlix said. “It’s too easy to imagine him linking his sudden ailment with drinking a potency spell.”

  “Then I’ll make sure he doesn’t know it’s a potency spell. I will put one of the potions in wine, and we will both drink it. As long as he does not see me manipulating any elements, he will have no reason to guess he’s been dosed. There are many ways a man can explain away his failure to perform without ever thinking of its being caused by magic.” Another fierce grin. “And men are unlikely to want to discuss that inability with others anyway. I swear I will not put the Abbey at risk.”

  It was tempting. So tempting. Chanlix had never thought of herself as particularly vengeful or ruthless. Through all the abuses she—and her mother—had endured in her life, she had never struck back with anything but words. But she had to admit to herself that if she should ever be presented with an opportunity to hurt—or even kill—the men who’d defiled the Abbey, she would leap at it.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to give Rusha the permission she requested, but she stopped herself before the words escaped. No matter what she claimed, Rusha could not guarantee her experiment would remain a secret. Chanlix had to consider the lives and safety of all her abigails. As satisfying as it would be to devise such a fitting revenge, she could not allow such a risk.

  “I’m sorry,” she said with genuine regret, “but it would be too dangerous. Perhaps after some time has passed and the Abbey is no longer the focus of so much attention we can revisit the issue.”

  Rusha’s gaze dropped to the floor, her shoulders hunching in defeat. “Please, Mother—” she started in a voice that was holding back tears.

  “I’m sorry,” Chanlix repeated. She rose from her chair and crossed to Rusha, gathering the younger woman into a hug. It was the act of a fellow sister and friend, not one of an abbess, but it
was an impulse she did not regret. “We will find a way to pay them back. I promise. Just not today.”

  * * *

  —

  Rusha waited in the barren playroom in breathless anticipation. In the days before the flood, the room had been draped in red silk, and the bed had been covered in plush red velvet to provide the comfort and luxury the customers demanded. All the bedding and drapes had been ruined by the flood, and with the Abbey’s barren coffers, there had been no money to replace anything even before the Abbey had been condemned.

  The room was now little more than a hovel, with a straw-tick mattress laid on the floor and covered with a thin linen sheet. Luckily, Yurvan had always been a great admirer of her mouth, and she would not need the comfort and padding of a luxurious bed to entertain him as he preferred.

  Behind her excitement was no small amount of fear. If it had been Mother Brynna who had denied her request to test her Kai spell, Rusha would have had no choice but to obey. Brynna had ruled the Abbey with an iron hand and would have made sure Rusha regretted her disobedience for a good, long time. She was gambling that Mother Chanlix would be more lenient, but she was willing to take whatever punishment the new abbess doled out as long as her Kai spell worked as expected.

  Carefully, she poured two generous doses of the potency potion into the decanter of wine, activating it with some Rho and adding three motes of Sur to ensure the effects of the potion would not fade with time. It was more potion than strictly necessary, but she couldn’t be sure how much of the wine Yurvan would drink before he would be overcome with impatience. She had to make sure he had enough of the potion in him before she added her Kai to the mix. She took an exploratory sip to make sure he would not detect the potion mixed with the wine and was satisfied that he would not.

  She didn’t have long to wait. Yurvan had sent word that he intended to arrive a bit after sundown, but he had not had access to the Abbey’s services since the earthquake, and he was no doubt half-starved for satisfaction. Unlike many of the patrons of the pavilion, who bought the services of abigails for convenience or for pleasures only a professional would be willing to provide, Yurvan was not the sort who could easily find a woman for his bed without having to pay. He would have spent these last two weeks with no lover save his own hand, so it was no surprise that he arrived a half an hour before he was expected. Not that Rusha minded. The sooner he arrived, the sooner she would find out if the spell worked.

  Young Maidel escorted Yurvan to the appointed room. The two women locked eyes before Maidel closed the door. Rusha had told Maidel about her request of the abbess, and also about the abbess’s refusal. She’d promised Maidel she would obey, but the look on Maidel’s face said the girl hadn’t believed the promise. Rusha put on her most innocent expression. Maidel shook her head and sighed, but made no attempt to talk her friend out of it. Smiling softly, Rusha closed the door and turned to her eager client.

  Yurvan looked at Rusha as if she were a giant steak and he a starving man. He rushed to her and enveloped her in a smothering embrace. He gave a disgusting wet snuffle as she dutifully wrapped her arms as far around his soft, fleshy waist as possible.

  “I’m going to miss you so much,” he sobbed into her hair, and she rolled her eyes. The great oaf somehow imagined himself in love with her, and though he had never said so and she had certainly never encouraged it, she was certain he was under some delusion that she shared his feelings.

  “There, there,” she said as she rubbed his back and despised him with every fiber in her body. “I’m sure it will not be forever. The nobles of Aaltah will demand our return, and the king will see he has no choice but to comply unless he wants rioting in the streets.”

  It was something the abigails had been telling themselves repeatedly ever since they’d received the dreadful news of their exile, but Rusha was far from convinced of her own words. The men of Aaltah might find themselves hungry for the pleasures an abigail was required to give, but the more deeply the effects of the late abbess’s spell were felt, the less kindly those men would look upon women in general and the abigails in particular. The Harbor District had always housed its share of cheap brothels, and with the Abbey gone, those brothels would quickly be rebuilt.

  “But it’s so unfair,” Yurvan wailed like the great baby he was.

  Rusha patted his back again, fighting her own revulsion. His doublet strained over his middle, and he was at just the right height that her face was on a level with his stinking armpits. He’d told her before that he bathed every day, but thanks to his gargantuan size, his skin was always damp with perspiration. She suspected that the stink returned within an hour of each bath.

  When she could withstand his embrace no longer, she pulled away. He did not immediately release her, clinging and still blubbering, and she wondered just how much he’d had to drink before coming to see her. She hoped it was not so much that he would refuse the wine she was about to offer.

  Eventually, she managed to squirm out of his embrace. “It seems to me that you are in need of a drink,” she said, though it was in fact the last thing he needed. He was disgusting enough sober. He had only come to her drunk once before, but he had made quite the impression when he’d passed out the moment she’d started unlacing his breeches.

  Rusha wished she’d known Yurvan was going to be drunk when he showed up. She could have mixed the potion with something stronger than wine. Then perhaps he would pass out once more, and she could add the Kai to the spell without ever having to lay hands or mouth on his cock.

  “I don’t need a drink,” he insisted, making a clumsy grab for her arm and missing. “I need you.”

  Rusha ignored his words and poured them each a generous glass of dosed wine. “Well then perhaps it is I who needs the drink,” she said, giving him her sexiest pout as she held out one of the glasses. “You don’t want me thinking about my future life in the Wasteland while I’m sucking you, now do you?”

  His frown made his bottom lip all but disappear into the folds of fat that formed a cascade of chins, and his eyes filmed with tears. If any of those tears had been for the cruel fate that was soon to face the woman he purported to love, she might have felt sorry for what she was about to do to him. However, he was weeping over his own sense of deprivation, not over the injustice and cruelty that the king was inflicting on every woman in this Abbey. He was far from the most distasteful of the men who’d degraded and humiliated her from the moment her father had disowned her and condemned her to the Abbey, but she hadn’t an ounce of sympathy to spare for him.

  “All right,” he agreed reluctantly, then downed half his glass in one great swallow.

  Rusha gave a soft sigh. Patience was far from one of Yurvan’s great virtues. Not that she’d seen evidence he possessed any virtues at all, great or otherwise. She took a much more delicate sip of her own wine. The potency potion would have no effect on her, but she felt a superstitious reluctance to down too much of it.

  Yurvan finished his own wine in two more quick swallows. The roll of his enormous belly and the skirting of his doublet hid his groin from view, but she could see by the almost immediate darkening of his eyes that the potion had already taken effect. No doubt he was at full mast, though sometimes she had to spend a tedious quarter hour bringing him to attention. She put down her nearly untouched glass of wine. Not surprisingly, he did not seem to notice that she’d barely drunk any, despite her claims to be so desperately in need of the alcohol.

  “Come here,” she said with a sultry smile that hid the hatred seething in her heart.

  He eagerly obeyed, and she drew him toward her makeshift bed. Before the flood, each of the playrooms had been furnished with comfortable kneeling cushions, but now the thin mattress would have to do the trick. She made herself as comfortable as she could, then reached up under his doublet to find the prominent bulge in his breeches. He groaned when she stroked it, and it quivered
with eagerness in her hands. She dared not stroke him again for fear he would finish too fast.

  She raised the doublet, draping it over her head while she reached for the laces of his breeches. With a gleeful smile, she realized that her plan to wait until he was distracted by the pleasures of her mouth to open her Mindseye was unnecessary. With the skirt of the doublet hiding her head, he would not see her eyes go white. Even supposing he could see her at all over his swells of belly fat.

  She moved very slowly to unlace his breeches as she opened her Mindseye. It was quite dark in the space under Yurvan’s doublet, but she did not need light to see the mote of Kai that hovered inches from her breast. She freed one of her hands from the laces and took hold of the Kai mote, holding it cupped in her palm as she placed that palm against the engorged cock she had just freed.

  The effect was so instantaneous she could feel Yurvan’s member deflate the moment she touched him. He gave a tremendous groan of frustration, and it was all Rusha could do not to leap to her feet and dance like a madwoman. Her heart tripped over itself in her chest, and still in the shelter of the doublet skirt, she grinned broadly.

  It had worked. She had created a devastating spell using Kai mixed with three elements that were abundant throughout Seven Wells and that almost any woman would be able to see and use. Never again would a man be able to rape a woman without fear of the consequences.

  “This can’t be happening!” Yurvan wailed, reminding Rusha that her mission was not yet complete. She had to make sure he didn’t make the connection between the glass of wine she’d pressed on him and his sudden failure. At least not until she and her sisters had left Aalwell behind on their long journey to their new home.

  “There, there, my lord,” she said, patting a fleshy knee with one hand. “It happens to everyone every now and again.”

  She ducked out from under his doublet and looked up at him, but her feigned sympathy was lost on him. His face was bright red with embarrassment, his eyes squinched tightly in denial.