Feldare Tales: High Society Ch. 03

A look of horror crossed Wenn's face. "Not if I can help it," he said, his own eyes hardening in a manner almost identical to what Crissa's had. Again, the sorceress felt desire flow from the girl, toward Wenn this time.A passionate creature, she thought, watching Peris' eyes flickering over Wenn as he stood in the doorway, fuming.

Peris giggled, a hollow sound. "If you were highborn, you might could stop it, by sacrificing yourself to that cause," she said. "Assuming he's serious, though I've no doubt he is considering it."

"I know that your feelings are secondary in such matters," said Crissa, "but surely, they account for some portion of the decision."

With a shrug, Peris said, "Oh, certainly, in a instance of one young nobleman over another, it would, but I've not been asked for of yet. I have something of a reputation as a bit of a shrew, something many young highborn are loathe to take on in a wife."

"Then we'll just get another young nobleman to ask for you, one you approve of," said Crissa, as if it were like hanging out linen. "I can easily make one fall for you, you know."

Peris giggled. "I don't think that a good option," she said. "Despite they will marry me off at my age, they will not marry off a young man until he's eighteen or more, usually." She looked into the middle distance. "There are no upperclassmen I find appealing, most of them are spoiled like Lentan."

"Such a thing would not last long enough, anyway, Crissa," said Wenn reasonably. "Do you really think he will ask for you?"

Another shrug from Peris was his reply.

Marrat's voice came filtering in from the study, he was calling for both Wenn and Crissa. They excused themselves hastily and trotted to the study.

Old Marrat was ensconced behind his reading podium. "Boy, girl, you listen now, and listen well," he said, his voice uncharacteristically hard. "You don't get to meddling in the affairs of nobles. There's an uneasy truce between the highborn and the practitioners of the arts. Without that, we would be persecuted and they would be assassinated and neither would know a moment's peace." He peered around the podium at the two as they hung their heads down. "Heed me in this. I'm fond of Peris, also, she's a sweet girl. But I'd not have you two branded as troublemakers by the nobility before your apprenticeship is even finished."

"Yes, Master Marrat," they said in unison.

"You'll learn subtlety in time. Only by that means may things be rectified that are truly wrong. You cannot use your powers to correct all the evils of the world." Marrat looked at them again. "Subtlety is your art, even more than the gifts you both have." He finally returned his gaze to the tome before him. "Go see to your young guest, and remember what I've said."

The two apprentices walked back to the anteroom, where Peris was still sitting on the short couch. "Please don't do anything that might cause you trouble," she pleaded.

Crissa and Wenn looked at one another a moment, then smiled. "Seems that advice is quite popular this day," said Wenn.

The young noblewoman stood up and kissed Wenn's cheek. "I am flattered that you seek to redress this issue for me, really, but you must not act against Lentan." She looked at the floor with worried eyes. "Some that have crossed him have had – accidents."

"I think Lentan will find me quite unprone to such accidents," said Wenn, his back stiffening.

Crissa snickered. "You should see him practicing a new spell, he needs no help with accidentally killing himself," she said.

The young wizard aimed a playful poke at Crissa's ribs, causing her to giggle more as he prodded her under her arm. "Not all of us are perfect," he said.

A toss of her head sent her golden hair flying over her shoulder. "I know, I am simply divine," she said. "You may kiss my pinkie ring." She held up an unadorned pinkie finger while tilting her head back and peering down her nose at Wenn.

Peris laughed at the display of the two. "You two really are good together," she said. "I envy you both."

The ‘both' did not escape Crissa's notice, though she did not react to it. "Next you come to visit, we will come gather you from the dormitory," said the sorceress. "That should at least give young Lord Lentan pause before accosting you again."

Peris smiled. "Yes, it would," she said, "he was always watchful of this house as he spoke to me. No doubt he feared one of you would emerge and turn him into a toad."

A thoughtful look overtook Wenn's face. "Transmutation, hmm?" he said quitely. "I've not thought to study that yet, but I easily could." He broke into a florid smile. "No, I'll not waste essence on such a thing when a swift punch to the nose will have a more telling effect."

"Cherle is a coward, Lentan is another sort," said Peris. "Don't underestimate him, he may well challenge you for such an affront. He is a skilled swordsman, as well." Her expression was now very concerned. "I would not have you hurt in my defence."

They enjoyed one another's company for the afternoon, the three chatting happily about various subjects from their academy on the morrow to more of the differences between Wenn's spellcasting and Crissa's powers.

Finally, though, Peris declared that it was time to go back to the dormitory. As they approached the dormitory, Crissa suddenly remembered that she needed to fetch some bread for the house. "I will be right back," she announced and took off down the street at a jog.

Peris stood nervously before the great bronze-clad doors of the dormitory. "I think she wanted to leave us alone," she said.

Wenn nodded agreement and smiled at her. "Probably." He cast his eyes down the street toward where Crissa had disappeared around the corner.

"You really do love her, don't you?" asked Peris, her eyes soft with kindness.

A look of something akin to misery came over Wenn's face. "Yes, Peris, I do," he said.

The young noblewoman leaned inward and kissed his cheek. "I'll not confuse the issue, then," she said.

A slight look of alarm overtook the miserable look on Wenn's features. "No, wait, that's not at all it," he said. "You're not a confusion, you're a friend, and a very pretty friend, I might add."

She blushed slightly at the generous words. "Then why do you hesitate to kiss me?"

Wenn grabbed her about the waist and pulled her to him, then kissed her soundly. She pressed against him and folded into his arms, entwining his neck with hers. A soft moan escaped her as they kissed deeply.

The door to the dormitory opened and Lentan's long, narrow face peered out. "Imagine that, my soon to be promised in the arms of a sorcerer!" he exclaimed, his face twisting into a mocking look of anger.

Peris gasped and stepped back from Wenn, pulling free of his arms. "Lentan, you will never wed me," she said.

The senior stepped toward Wenn, however, ignoring her. "You perverse enchanter, what have you done to my beloved?" he screamed. Faces began appearing in windows along the front of the dormitory. Wenn gave back a step, confused and worried as to how to handle this situation.

Lentan's hand curled into a fist and it began a trajectory toward Wenn's midriff. A single word barked from Wenn and his own arm came down, shimmering with a blue halo. It moved with a unnatural speed to block the incoming punch and Wenn spoke another word. From his right side, a red pulse flashed and his right fist shot forth, leaving a flickering afterimage on the eyes of all viewing it. The fist smashed into Lentan's chest, sending him stumbling back toward the doors. He regained his footing and leered at the boy. "I accept your challenge, sorcerer!" he said. "At midnight then!"

"What?" asked Wenn, blinking at the senior.

"You have offended my honor by fighting me with magics, I demand redress," said Lentan. "Furthermore, I accuse you of sullying this fine girl, using your powers to sway her mind and seduce her."

There were now students in the doorway and both doors were open. Several other upperclassmen chuckled at Wenn's dilemma and several folk in the front rank gasped at the accusation.

"He has not ensorcled me," said Peris, standing straight and glaring at Lentan.

Lentan chuckled. "Naturally, those under the sway of a sorcerer would not know of it," he said, negligently. "But as my promised, I will protect your honor and virtue."

Crissa came up at a sprint. "What the hell is going on here?" she asked, grabbing Wenn by his shoulder.

"The sorcerer's accomplice returns," said Lentan, "she's already ensorcled two of our students with her wicked powers." He pointed an accusing finger at Crissa.

Other students were pouring from the dormitory now, and forming into a wide circle upon the steps and out into the street. There were nods and murmurs of agreement among the crowd, and a few cheers. "Kill the sorcerer!" was shouted from somewhere in the back of the crowd.

Crissa's eyes widened. "Wenn, get out of here!" she screamed over the growing volume of the crowd. She grabbed Peris' arm, but Lentan did the same, with her other arm. "No, witch, release her," he yelled. "You've damaged him enough with your unholy woman-loving embrace."

Both Peris and Crissa turned toward Lentan. Crissa's eyes were disbelieving and Peris' were shocked and fearful. "You bastard, you read my journal," said Peris in a whisper.

The crowd moved forward in a small surge from one side. Crissa's expression changed from disbelief to fear. "Wenn, run!" she exclaimed as a stone came hurtling from the crowd and hit him in the shoulder. She looked toward the crowd blocking the street and let forth her mind, projecting images of each of them being trampled under the iron-shod hooves of warhorses, and their bodies being broken. They gave back, screaming in terror as their own deaths flashed before their eyes. Lentan jerked upon Peris' arm and she came loose of Crissa's fingers.

The sorceress ran, fleeing the steps and into the street, with Wenn right behind her. Another stone glanced off her ear, hurting mightily and cutting the cup. "At the glade at midnight, sorcerer, or you best leave this city," called Lentan after them, laughing.

Peris screamed something that got lost in the furor of cheers and catcalls from the assembled students.

- - - - - - - - - -

"You're very lucky that this is all you got from a mob," said Marrat, gently rubbing woundwort oil onto Crissa's ear. "I warned you not to meddle with the young noble wolflings."

Wenn turned on him. "You put us in a position to be exposed to their teeth, Marrat," he accused. "We were happy just learning our arts and doing chores for you, master."

Marrat chuckled as he capped the little vial. "I'm sure you were, lad," he said, "but you cannot go through life simply avoiding troubles. I had hoped you would find your way about them without your arts." The old man closed his eyes and sighed. "I should have waited another year. You two were not yet ready for this." He turned his painfully insightful gaze upon Wenn. "You will not meet Lentan in the glade, will you?"

Wenn thought a moment. "I have to," he said.

Her eyes were large as Crissa turned toward him. "Did you hear nothing, Wenn?" she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "Lentan will kill you if you don't use your magic, and the crowd will rip you apart if you do. You will not be allowed to win, even if you best him honestly, they will say you used your magics."

Marrat nodded slowly. "Nature of the beast, I'm afraid," he said. "Men do not trust that which they cannot themselves manipulate."

"What should I do then?" asked Wenn. "I cannot return to the academy having refused to meet a challenge."

The old wizard nodded. "This is true, at least for now."

They all three looked toward Marrat's gnomish clock, which stood in the corner of the study. It was eleven-thirty. "I don't know what to do master," said Wenn.

Crissa stood and put her hands on Wenn's shoulders. "I don't think there's anything we can do." Her eyes turned with a somewhat haunted look to Marrat. "When did being blessed with gifts of the One become a curse?"

"Like a sword, your gifts have two edges," said Marrat, "and also like a sword, it is woefully unsuited to some uses."

There was a loud hammering on the front door. Marrat rose from his stool before the large sitting chair. "I will get this one, apprentices," he said.

He walked slowly toward the door, his expression one of slight resignation. Crissa and Wenn stood in the doorway of the study and watched him as he thumbed the latch.

A deep masculine voice came from outside. "Is Wenn of Morrovale present?" he asked.

"Yes, captain Mandran, he is," replied Marrat, looking rather shocked. "May I ask your business with him?"

"Of course, Master Marrat," said the captain. "He is accused of the murder of Lord Lentan, son of Baron Wennerlan."