Chapter 3
Selene sighed as she dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling. Kerrith had run off because of a disturbance down by the docks. Apparently some mercenaries from Kilasat had started a riot and several fires. And I had everything set up too, she thought to herself. Around the bed were dozens of scented candles, none of them used. A piece of lingerie more nothing than lace lay draped over the back of a chair. She hadn't had a chance to use that either.
Kerrith, she thought and wondered, what would he choose if he had to pick only one of us, me or the kingdom? The thought stayed with her for a long time despite her efforts to think of the upcoming festival. Maybe I should have listened to my mother, she thought, thinking of how upset her mother had been when she had finally learned about her daughter and the Knight. Her father, on the other hand, had been overjoyed by the news that Kerrith was courting her. Having a Knight for a son-in-law would be great for business, he had said.
Selene rolled over onto her stomach and turned to stare out the window at the city. She didn't have a view of the ocean from her third story apartment, but she did have a view of the center of the city and part of the bay. For a moment she thought about the elf that they had met earlier that evening, Kerrith wouldn't-? she thought and then shook her head. If there was one thing that Kerrith wasn't, it was being adulterous. Something like that would almost be easier to deal with than his dedication to the kingdom.
Solyma stirred groggily and blinked her eyes as she stared up at the dimly lit ceiling. Something had woken her, but what? She turned her head at the sound of someone whimpering softly and saw that Ismene was caught in the throes of a nightmare. The elf woman looked so much younger as she slept. Solyma felt a vague stirring of guilt for taking advantage of the elf but quickly dismissed it.
"She wanted it as much as I did," Solyma muttered and tried to ignore feeling that she was somehow betraying Penelope. She sighed and gently patted Ismene on the shoulder. The elf flinched away and her face contorted in fear. "It's alright, Ismene," Solyma whispered as she stroked the elf's hair and pulled her closer. This seemed to work and Ismene relaxed, her breathing becoming deep and even again as she cuddled up close to Solyma.
Solyma stretched and managed to snag a glass of water from the bedside table on Ismene's side of the bed. She gulped it down and set it on the floor next to her before settling back on the bed. As she did, Ismene snuggled closer, her warm body pressed up next to Solyma and her slender legs entwining with her's. Solyma sighed and stroked Ismene's shoulder slowly as she looked up at shadows cast by the lamp on the ceiling. Poor girl, she thought. Loses someone she loves and gets raped in the process. She kissed the top of Ismene's head and reached over to turn down the lamp. She tried a few unsuccessful grabs for it and lay back. She couldn't reach it without waking up Ismene so...She smiled as she wove a quick weave and extended it towards the lamp, there was a tiny squeak as the lamp key turned and the flame died.
I knew there was a reason why I learned magic, Solyma thought to herself as she pulled the covers tighter around her and Ismene. It was still a bit cool for this late in the season, in normal years they wouldn't have needed a blanket, just a sheet at most. She smiled as Ismene rested her head on her shoulder and closed her eyes, sleep just a few moments away.
Tancred paced around his living room, pausing for a moment to examine a knickknack and then resuming his pacing. He wished he hadn't run into that elf girl, otherwise he could have gotten his books. He stopped and yawned.
"Spawn of the night, my ass," he said tiredly. Since he had started living in Corannon he had gradually adjusted his sleeping schedule to more closely match the normal humans living in the city. He usually managed to wake up by one in the afternoon and spent most of the night awake but this wasn't all that different from a lot of the other nobles. "Damned Knight," he said to no one in particular. He reached stopped by a desk and yanked open a drawer, staring at the two pieces of hard paper inside. "Maybe she'll want to go to the opera today," he said as he held the tickets up. Then, maybe things could happen...
He had lied when he had told Solyma that he never thought of settling down. He felt age creeping up on him even though he was a vampire and could technically live forever. He wanted someone, someone who would be there at the end of the night. Someone he liked, someone he was friends with, someone who he wouldn't have to watch grow older, someone...Someone like Solyma. Bah, he thought and shook his head. I need to get out again.
Solyma yawned as she opened her eyes and stared up at the sunlit ceiling. She glanced over towards the clock she had purchased a few months ago. Seven thirty, she read and yawned again. She wondered why she had woken up so early when she heard Ismene mumble something. She turned her head, wondering if the elf was awake and saw that the girl was still dreaming.
"Oh, of course, Arcin," Ismene mumbled happily. "Of course I'll marry you." Solyma shook her head leaned back against the pillows. Marriage, she thought. Marriage wasn't something she thought about much, at least not since she had been a little girl and dreamed of having some handsome demon prince whisk her away to a life of romance and, most importantly, no more chores. Now she couldn't even imagine being married.
Solyma sighed as she started to sit up, too awake to get back to sleep. As she gently lifted Ismene's arm off her stomach the elf girl suddenly whimpered and clutched at her. Solyma paused for a second and slid a large pillow into Ismene's grasp while she slid off the bed. It seemed to work, Ismene hugged the pillow close and buried her face in it as her whimpers subsided.
Solyma padded silently to the bathroom and carefully shut the door behind her. A few twists of valves and a couple of seconds with the pump started the water flowing from the faucet into a wash basin. It was quite cold as she splashed her face and began to brush her teeth. She rinsed and spat as she glanced at the small window set in the main water tank. The tank was almost full, Hector must have topped it off last night, she thought. She yawned again and wove a spell to quickly heat the water, an advantage that she had over most other residents of the city who had to wait for a wood or coal fired heater to warm to the water for their baths or showers.
Might as well get some breakfast, she thought as she left the bathroom and walked downstairs after picking up her robe from the bedroom floor. She smiled when she saw the books that Ismene had carried with her, all romances.
"How about some breakfast, Hector," she said as she walked into the kitchen and slumped in a chair by the table. "Oh, you've already started." Hector was floating by the stove, a panful of something that smelled wonderful sizzling in front of him. "What is it?"
"Eggs, cheese, bacon, mushrooms, and green onions," he said as he gave the contents of the pan a flip.
"That sounds great," Solyma said, already feeling her stomach grumbling. "You finished with those exams yet?" she asked, hoping that she sounded sufficiently imperious for Hector.
"No, I didn't. Those exams are your responsibility anyway," Hector said as he scooped a portion of the egg scramble onto a plate and set it in front of Solyma. "Why don't you do them?"
"Why should I correct them? You're my familiar. You're supposed to do whatever I tell you to," she said with a smile. "So correct them. Or else you start being my little sex slave."
Hector snorted and turned back to the oven. He set the pan on a thick board to keep from damaging the counter and damped the fire in the oven, all the while grumbling loudly enough for Solyma to just barely hear him but not make out his words.
Behind his back Solyma smiled as she wolfed down breakfast. This was better, she had actually been worried when he had become sullen and loud. Usually he was just sullen and quiet. Hopefully he'd get back to normal with something to complain about to the other familiars.
Ismene blinked and flinched when she awoke to the dishes rattling.
"Sorry," Solyma said as she set down a tray loaded with breakfast. "I brought you something to eat."
"Thank you," Ismene said with a blush. She wished that she hadn't acted so silly last night, she shuddered to think of what Solyma thought of her now.
"You're welcome, I hope you like it. Hector made it."
"It's, mmm, delicious," Ismene said through a mouthful of food. "You've been so kind," she said when she had finished swallowing. "I'm sorry about last night, I don't know what was wrong with me."
Solyma leaned over and kissed Ismene softly. "It was my pleasure. I know what it's like to stay in an inn alone, especially when everyone else seems to be having a good time. Why don't you stay here? You can sleep in the guest room or we could share this one," Solyma said with a faint smile.
"Really? Thank you, Solyma. I don't like being alone anymore, I get scared. I even started carrying a dagger with me," Ismene said. She nodded towards the pile of her clothes on the floor. "A man bumped into me and I nearly stabbed him. Then a beggar grabbed my arm and I did cut him. I don't know what's wrong with me!" she half-sobbed.
Solyma watched in alarm as Ismene suddenly began to cry hysterically. She pushed the tray out of the way and reached over to gather Ismene into her arms. The elf's slender body shook with the force of her sobs and Solyma could feel Ismene's tears soaking through her robe and nightgown. "Have you talked to anyone about what happened, at Merglise, I mean?" she said quietly.
"I-no, no, I haven't. Who could I tell?" Ismene said in a choked voice.
"You can tell me, if you want," Solyma said as kindly as she could.
"No, you'll think I'm a horrible person," Ismene said and tried feebly to pull away from Solyma. Solyma let her pull away to arm's length but held her there.
"No, I'm not," she said calmly. "I've done and seen some bad things in my life, I promise you that I won't think badly of you."
Ismene stared into her eyes, searching to see if she was lying or not. Finally the need to talk, to tell someone what had happened, overcame her. She began to tell the tale of what had happened before Lord Arcin du Volchim had become possessed by the Dathuz, Cirron. She told Solyma about Arcin's previous wife and how she had died fighting a dragon far away from Merglise. She told Solyma about the ball and the night in the garden, then about the ride out to the point of the peninsula and the night they had spent together. Then she told Solyma about what Cirron had done to her while wearing the body of the Lord du Volchim.
"The horrible thing is, the thing that makes me such a horrible person," Ismene said haltingly. "When he first came to me in my bedroom, I-I wanted him. Not in the way that he took me, but I though he was going to make love to me, not-" she stopped and looked down at the empty plate of food.
"It's not your fault," Solyma said firmly. "It doesn't matter what you thought or said, that didn't make that damned Dathuz do what he did to you. You had no say in the matter. He did what he did because he was evil, not because you were in love with Lord Volchim." Solyma's lips tightened in a straight line as she watched Ismene and worried what the elf would say.
"You're right," Ismene finally said. "I don't know why I thought that it was my fault. But I just keep thinking that if I hadn't gone there, maybe Arcin wouldn't have tried to summon his wife."
"I don't think so, if anything, you might have made things better. If he hadn't cared for you so much he might have not taken as many precautions when he tried to summon his wife, a whole army of Dathuz might have escaped. We might be fighting armies of the undead right now. And in the end, I think his love for you helped him sacrifice himself to keep Cirron from escaping or growing stronger."
"You think he loved me?" Ismene said with her eyes shining. Solyma half opened her mouth and then closed it in the face of such pure hope.
"Yes," she finally said, putting all three hundred years of skill in lying into that one word. "I think he loved you." Gods above, I hope I'm doing the right thing, she prayed. She didn't know what Lord Volchim felt for Ismene. Her cynical side said that the Lord was probably just trying to tumble his pretty governess. The tiny voice of her romantic side said differently. It doesn't really matter, just so long as she's happy, she finally decided.
"But he also loved his wife," Ismene said quietly. "At the end, that was who he was asking for." Solyma remained silent, not wanting to make things worse. "Do you think he's happy wherever he is?"
"Yes, I imagine he is."
Ismene was silent for a long time and then she looked back up at Solyma. "Thank you, I feel better now," she said with a smile she did not feel. I'm never feeling that way again, she vowed to herself. I'm not going to hurt that much again, no matter what. Never.
Laros knocked at Penelope's door before he quietly opened it and slipped into her bedroom. He stopped when he saw her still sleeping despite the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. It reflected off her golden hair and highlighted her face, making her seem even more beautiful, as if that were possible.
He watched as she sighed in her sleep and rolled over onto her side, her cheek pressing firmly against the pillow as she burrowed deeper into her sheets. He sighed and wished that he didn't have to wake her. He studied her for a moment longer and then shook his head, dismissing the feelings he had for her as just a protective instinct.
"Your majesty," he said quietly as he touched her shoulder. "You wanted me to wake you at nine of the morning."
"Oh, good morning Laros," Penelope said as she stretched and yawned, making Laros' heart beat a little faster. She looked up at him from the bed and smiled. "Don't look so serious, Laros. It's a beautiful day, why don't you smile?"
Laros tried and Penelope winced. "How about not glaring?" she suggested and that worked better. Laros turned as he sensed someone walking down the hallway towards the apartment.
"Stay here," he said to Penelope as he opened the bedroom door and crossed towards the apartment door. "Who is it?" he called out when someone rapped on the door.
"Mathieu Quiton, now open the door," someone called out in an unsteady voice.
Laros opened the door a crack and stared into the red eyes of Mathieu Quiton, son of Duke Adelard Quiton. The man's black hair was matted and hung in greasy locks around his face. His clothes fared no better and were stained with grease and sauce from meals eaten without the benefit of a napkin. "Go away before I break your arm again," Laros said evenly.
"You can't talk to me that way, I'm a duly appointed representative of the kingdom and the son of a duke as well," Mathieu said with a sneer.
Laros looked at the human in revulsion as his enhanced sense of smell picked up the stench of vomit and cheap liquor. He almost wanted the human to try something and realized that he would get far too much pleasure from beating the human to a pulp. "Go away now," he said and shut the door in the human's face.
"You dirty son-of-a-whore!" Mathieu screamed from the other side of the door. "You open this door and bring that bitch you call a princess out here right now! I order you by the authority of the Knights of the Shield!" Mathieu smiled smugly when Laros opened the door fully and stepped through. "Don't worry, I'll pay you for your troubles," he said and dug into his jacket to pull out a small pouch of coins. "This should cover the cost for a quick fuck," he said and tossed the pouch at Laros.
Laros caught the pouch with one hand and weighed it. It could contain no more than twenty or so marks, what a sailor would pay the lowliest prostitute for a quick blowjob in an alley. "I'll give you ten seconds to leave," Laros snarled, feeling a red mist forming in his head. He noticed that other students who had not left for their homes yet were poking their heads out of the doors and watching him and Mathieu with interest.
"Quit yapping," Mathieu said. "Now hurry up and bring that whore out here, I want to be between her legs in ten seconds or I'll-"
Mathieu didn't have a chance to finish the sentence as Laros snapped his hand forward and caught him directly under the chin. The human's eyes bugged out as Laros lifted him with one hand and propelled him down the corridor, stopping in front of the door to the lavatory. Students were stepping into the hall as Laros knocked the door open with his free hand and threw Mathieu into a stall.
The human grunted as his back slammed against the bowl of a lavatory. He tried to stand and slipped drunkenly on the tile. "You'll pay for this, elf," he spat. "My father will see that you are executed for this offense!"
Laros wasn't listening anymore as he jerked Mathieu to his feet and spun him around with one arm twisted painfully behind his back. He gave a sharp twist and Mathieu screamed as his shoulder was dislocated. Laros then shoved Mathieu's head downward into the lavatory and pulled the chain that flushed it. He gave the human a last contemptuous kick as he strode out of the lavatory leaving the human cradling his injured arm and glaring at his back.
As he walked down the corridor he was already regretting his actions. He had let his anger take control of him and had left Penelope alone for a minute, a minute too long by any standard. He seized control of his face and composed it into a calm mask as he opened the door to Penelope's apartment and stepped inside. She was standing at the door to her bedroom with a worried look on her face.
"Don't worry, he's taken care of," Laros said, completely misinterpreting her face.
"I'm not worried about him, I'm worried about you," Penelope said more sharply than she intended. "What do you think his father will do? They might decide it best to send you back to Taladron and replace you! I don't want that."
"I am sorry, your majesty," Laros said as he bowed his head in shame, knowing that she was right. His actions had not befitted the dignity of the royal house of Taladron and he knew that he very well might be reassigned.
Penelope sighed as she stepped towards him and lifted his face with her hand. She looked into his pained eyes and felt her heart flutter at what she saw for a second before his eyes glazed over with a cold shield. "Don't worry," she said softly, "just order us some breakfast and we'll forget about all of this."
Ismene tapped her foot unconsciously as she stood in the main courtyard of the city barracks. She idly watched the men practicing with their weapons across the courtyard, her gaze lingering on their bare chests as they sparred back and forth.
"Miss Isalisos? You wanted to see me?" Kerrith asked as he stepped out of a doorway. He had been working on some paperwork, a sadly necessary part of his promotion to Knight Protector, when a trainee had knocked on his door and said that an elf wanted to see him.
"Yes, Sir Archotos," Ismene said as she looked up at him. She was short for an elf and stood only to his chest. "I wanted to know if you could show me how to use one of those," she said, nodding towards a rack of long swords standing by the wall for the blacksmith to sharpen.
Kerrith blinked and scratched his chin, leaving a small smear of ink from his paperwork. "I suppose I could, but, why? I mean, I thought you were a governess," he finally said.
"I was. I want to learn how to fight," Ismene said in a cold voice.
"Well, alright," Kerrith said. "You'll have to get a different outfit, there's no way you can train in a dress. When did you want to start?"
"Now. I can go buy some clothes right now."
"Today? But it's Aeleasday," Kerrith said. He should know, Selene had chewed him out for reneging on his promise to go on a picnic today. He would have, he wanted to, really, but there was so much to do at work and he'd see her at the Festival anyway...He shook his head and sighed. "If you want. Just come by my office once you've gotten some suitable clothes, something lightweight and tough that you won't mind getting dirty."
Ismene nodded and turned, walking out of the compound's gate apparently unaware of the admiring gazes following her. "Got yourself another piece on the side, oh great Knight?" Mathieu said snidely as he walked over with his arm in a sling.
Kerrith barely suppressed a sneer as he looked at Mathieu. He still couldn't believe that the nobleman's son had managed to gain entry into the Knighthood. He hated to think that the entrance council could be swayed by a title and a father's request, but this time it appeared that it had. Mathieu was the absolute worst example of a Knight that Kerrith had ever known. He'd be hard pressed to be accepted into the lowliest and rankest mercenary group. Not because Mathieu couldn't wield a sword as well as any other man, he was actually one of the best swordsmen Kerrith had ever met, but he lacked discipline and any sense of honor, both essential for any Knight.
"Go back to one of the brothels you love so much," Kerrith said as he turned and walked back towards his office. Behind him he heard Mathieu snort and walk away. That boy is trouble, Kerrith thought as he sat back down at his desk and pulled another stack of paperwork in front of him.
The door was polished handsomely and showed a great deal of age. A brass name plate was mounted at eye level with a name engraved in ivory in it. Selene knocked on the door and silently cursed her new teacher. Just as well that Kerrith canceled their picnic, she'd likely be here in Professor Icarii's laboratory for the rest of the day.
"Selene, so good to see you," Icarii said as he swung open the door and smiled toothily at Selene. He didn't look like a necromancer. He had a healthy head of dark blond hair and his complexion was ruddy from sun and time outdoors. Still, there was something in his eyes that was different from everyone else, they reminded Selene of an insect's, flat and lifeless. "Would you care for a drink?"
"I, yes, please," Selene said. She didn't really feel like anything but it was best to start out well.
Professor Vashel Icarii smirked with his back turned to Selene. He had spotted her several weeks ago and offered to tutor her for the summer. She was a delicious figure of womanhood and he especially liked her long black hair. He was careful to hide his movements behind his body as he opened a small vial of powder and tapped a tiny amount into the glass he gave to Selene. "Now, why don't we get to know each other?" he said with a smile he truly felt.
Ismene's hair flashed in the early afternoon sun as she huffed and parried one of Kerrith's thrusts. The tunic she was wearing had soaked through and was plastered to her slim body like a second skin. The guards and Knights staying at the barracks had soon lined the courtyard walls and second story windows that looked out into the courtyard. At least they had until Kerrith had shooed them away and threatened to send them out to patrol the city for any possible disturbances before the Festival tomorrow.
"Good, keep your guard up," Kerrith said as Ismene parried a cut. "You're picking this up very fast, I'm impressed."
Ismene smiled thinly and lunged forward with a low cut that forced Kerrith to jump backward. Her hands, used to needlepoint and cooking, were already blistered and sore from the heavy metal pommel of the practice long sword. But she forced herself not to ask for a break even though Kerrith had offered to rest several times. "Watch your balance," he said as she stumbled backward.
Kerrith was much more impressed than he had let on. The elf girl had shown an unusual intensity in her practice and a natural aptitude for the blade. She had mastered the basic parries and attacks in just over an hour, now he was showing her more advanced techniques. He staggered backward as she took her long sword in both hands and hammered away at his defense, forcing him backwards across the fencing circle and managing to knock his sword out of his hand. He laughed in amazement as he raised his hand in surrender. "That was wonderful," he said as he caught his breath. "You're really a natural at this-" He stopped in horror when he saw the elf girl's eyes roll back in her head. She staggered and began to crumble bonelessly to the firmly packed sand of the circle, her sword dropping from her hand with a dull thump. She felt light as a feather in his arms as he caught her and lifted her while calling for water and a healer.
Ismene stirred slightly and groaned in pain as she woke up. She was lying on cool silk sheets in a dimly lit room that smelled faintly of perfume.
"Good, you're awake," Solyma said as she sat down next to the elf.
"Where's Sir Archotos?" Ismene asked groggily as she half sat up and realized she was naked. She started to pull the sheet over her bare breasts but stopped when she remembered where she was.
"He had to run off to the College, there's been some sort of disturbance," Solyma said and pressed a damp cloth onto Ismene's forehead while eying Ismene's body appreciatively. "You fainted from the heat. You should drink more water when you exercise."
"I forgot," Ismene said as she sank back onto the bed. "I'm not used to that type of exercise."
"I'd imagine so. Let's have a look at those hands, shall we?" Solyma winced at the sight of Ismene's hands. They were stained with dried blood and she could hear Ismene gasp in pain as the bandages stuck to her torn skin. "Sorry, I'm not very good at healing weaves, but I'll do what I can."
Ismene sighed gratefully as Solyma finished the weave and a soft glow spread over Ismene's hands. There was a brief twinge of pain as the skin healed itself but soon Ismene couldn't feel any pain at all. "Thank you," she said with a small smile that set Solyma's heart pounding. In the dark she looked like Penelope. Solyma dug her nails into her palm as she forced herself not to think of the princess.
"Your hands will be very sensitive for a little while until the nerves adjust," Solyma said. "You were also a bit sunburned but I took care of that while you were asleep."
"Should I be careful?" Ismene asked.
"I guess, things will just feel a lot more...intense."
"Like wha-" Ismene began and gasped as her hand brushed the silk sheets. "Oh my," she whispered as she brushed her fingertips gently over the silk and moaned at the sensation. "That's incredible," she said as she placed her hand on the sheets and began to stroke them slowly. She looked up as Solyma took her wrist and slowly brought her hand up to her mouth.
Ismene shuddered in pleasure as Solyma slowly sucked her index finger into her mouth and began to slide her tongue around it. Each swirl and caress of Solyma's skilled tongue sent waves of gasping pleasure through her as she panted for breath, each slow lick more intense than anything she had ever felt. Solyma eased her back onto the bed and began to alternate between her fingers, slowly letting each one slide in and out of her mouth until they were soaked before moving on. Soon Ismene was writhing on the bed as Solyma held her wrists tightly and ran her tongue over the palms of Ismene's hands. "Gods, Solyma," Ismene managed to gasp out. "Please!"
Solyma smiled as she lay down on the bed beside Ismene, her tongue still swirling across Ismene's fingers as she moved one hand down to Ismene's drenched quim. She paused for a moment, delighting in Ismene's panted pleas for release. Then she slowly began to rub the tip of her finger across Ismene's clit, pausing for a moment to switch to Ismene's other hand, and then applying a slow, circular pressure.
Ismene's eyes rolled back in her head and she felt as if she could faint at any second. Her back arched off the bed as she felt herself climax from only that one brief touch by Solyma. Her bosom heaved as she sucked air into her lungs, her mind on fire from the sensations flooding it. She managed to groan incoherently before Solyma was working on her clit with her tongue, driving her to another orgasm and sending her body into quaking spasms.
Continued in Chapter 4
The World of Alderest - V - Festival - Chapter 3
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