Varna Ch. 04

- "Several different versions of the story?"

- "Yes. But I followed Aludar, until the night she came to him. He was sad, and lonely. Renna was kind, and gentle with him. I was able to follow her afterwards: she went straight to your father, and told him everything. She gave him a full report of your brother's 'performance'."

I didn't like hearing that Renna would do such a thing. "What did Father say?"

- "Nothing. A month later, she went to Merik. He was ... very rough with her. Once again, she went right to your father, to report."

- "And then Nathal?"

- "Yes. A month later. He was ... less rough. More concerned with his own pleasure than hers, though. That was what she said to your father."

- "Glasha ..." I said. "Did you really need to put yourself at risk to learn this?"

- "I'm not finished. I found you, the night Renna came to your room. Not because I didn't believe what you told me. I wanted to be able to follow her back to your father. She told him that you had turned her down. He asked if she had persisted, and she said 'Yes'. Your father didn't say anything to that, but ... he seemed impressed, Tauma."

I took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

- "I'm not trying to impress him." I said. "I don't care what he thinks of me."

- "I know you don't, my love. But think about what this means. Your father sends his mistress to each of his sons - "

- "Except Toran."

- "He's too young. But ask yourself - after each visit, Renna reports to him on your 'performance'. Think about it: why is he doing this? Tauma - he's considering the succession."

***

Glasha knew that I was not ambitious. Nor was she ambitious on my behalf. But everyone knew the story of my Grandfather and my father's succession.

Islivan Cunedda had three sons. The eldest was widely considered the best - by far. He was more personable, more intelligent, more responsible ... until he fell from a horse, broke his neck, and died. It was a tragedy for the Duchy.

The second son was ... unsatisfactory. A bit wild, the old-timers would say. A drunkard, with a bad habit of groping women who were married to other men. His mental acuity was open to question, as was his courage.

Grandfather had him killed.

The title passed to his third son - my father. Most would have preferred the eldest, but given the circumstances, my grandfather was not condemned for murdering his own son.

My father wasn't about to do something so drastic. And yet ...

Why was he constantly testing us? Why send his mistress, Renna, to measure our 'performance'? Aludar would make a fine Duke - why not simply endorse him as heir?

It was an interesting question. I had other things on my mind, though.

- "I want you with me." I told Glasha.

- "I am with you." she answered.

- "I mean all of the time. I don't want you trying Time magic again, unless I'm there to support you - and to watch that you don't overdo it. I want you with me all of the time, so that I don't have to go looking for you when I need you. I want you with me at night, even if all we do is sleep."

- "You won't sleep, though." said Glasha, with a smile.

- "I'll sleep better, knowing that you're with me. And we won't have to go down to the river every time we want to have a private conversation, or ..."

- "To not sleep." She smiled at me again. "And winter is coming."

- "Does that mean you agree?"

- "You're very sweet, Tauma. Yes, I'll share your chamber."

Glasha didn't have many possessions to move in. Nonetheless my little room wasn't designed with two people in mind. Some of the servants had larger quarters than I did. My tiny desk, my narrow bed ... they were far from ideal.

So I went to my father.

- "I need a larger room, Father."

- "Why?"

- "I want to have my mistress move in with me. My present quarters are too small."

I recognized the look on my father's face: complete disinterest.

"Aludar has space for his books," I said, "and a second room for his daughter and her nurses. Merik has a large room. Nathal has space enough for his mistress, and a second room for his poet, Gedere. There are servants who have larger rooms than I do. Doesn't it reflect poorly on the Grand Duke when his son sleeps in meaner accommodations than his wine steward?"

Father looked at me for the longest time, without saying a word.

- "Dismissed." he said.

Three days later, servants appeared to carry my few possessions and furniture to a new location. Nathal's poet, Gedere, was being moved to my old room, while I got a substantially larger chamber - and a bigger bed.

At Glasha's urging, I went immediately to my brother Nathal, whose chamber would be immediately next to mine.

- "Brother - I'm sorry." I said. "I asked Father for a larger room, for Glasha and me. I didn't know that he was going to give me this one. And now that he has ... I can't very well refuse, can I?"

Nathal knew better than to contest one of Father's decisions. And did it really matter to him where his poet friend bedded down?

- "No harm done, little brother." he said. "Enjoy your new room. Oh - you can let me know if my girls are ... too loud. You know?"

Typical Nathal. The apparently gracious concession. The reminder that he had multiple mistresses - and that they would be so overcome by his sexual prowess that they couldn't help disturbing all of their neighbours.

The one person I did feel sorry for was Gedere, the poet. While he may have been given accommodations too luxurious for his station, it had to rankle somewhat when they were taken way. I tried to speak to him as well.

In some ways, it was surprising that he had taken Nathal as his patron. In fact, he was more ideally suited to my father the Grand Duke.

Gedere's facial expressions mirrored my father's. The poet was not a handsome man: he had a long, sad face, dominated by a massive nose. His lips curled downwards, and his forehead was lined with deep creases. His habitual expression was a frown of disapproval. He was a conservative (or, more properly, a reactionary), who longed for the 'good old days' (which had never actually existed).

But I felt sorry for taking his room away, and tried to tell him so.

- "It is of no account, Lord." he said.

- "But maybe there's something I could do for you - to make it up to you."

- "There is nothing you can do for me, Lord." said Gedere. He bowed quickly, and slipped away before I could continue the conversation.

I wasn't unhappy with the exchange of rooms, though. Glasha and I had plenty of space. Sanatha gave us a house-warming of sorts, bringing in a large sleeping fur and several more 'feminine' touches to help us decorate our new, larger quarters.

- "She's so nice." said Glasha, after my sister had gone.

- "She likes you."

We weren't at all awkward with each other, even though it was our first time sharing a room, and a bed. We'd made love by the river, and lain in each other's arms under the stars. This would merely be warmer, and more comfortable.

The only awkward moment occurred soon after we'd climbed into bed, when we heard the loud sounds from the next room - Nathal's chamber. He and his mistress had timed it perfectly, so that we could hear the sounds of their energetic coupling through the wall.

We tried not to pay attention, but it was difficult to ignore.

- "Wrestling?" asked Glasha. She didn't seem at all embarrassed at all. In fact, she was grinning.

- "Gymnastics." I replied.

- "Acrobatics." said Glasha. She couldn't keep a straight face, though, and began to giggle. I couldn't help myself, and began laughing too. I have no idea if Nathal and his companion could hear us.

- "I'm sorry." I said.

- "Don't be. The barracks were often much louder. But nobody dared to laugh."

- "Not what I expected for our first night together, though."

Glasha smiled, and stroked my cheek. "It's not our first night together. The location doesn't matter - as long as we're together."

We made some noises of our own, after that. I don't know if they could hear us in the next room.

The next morning, Nathal made a point - and a bit of a show - of coming over to me, in order to apologize.

- "Sorry about all that, last night, little brother. I'd say that we got carried away, but it was really more of a regular occurrence. Hope it didn't disturb you too much."

- "Not in the least, Nathal." I answered, with a smile.

***

Glasha had no difficulty adjusting to her new circumstances. My sister went out of her way to be kind, and to show Glasha around the Ducal 'Palace' - and in so doing let everyone else know that my mistress was her friend. The guards and servants would take their cue from Sanatha, and treat Glasha with respect.

She immediately formed a connection with Seyamka, a very petite serving girl. In addition to her diminutive size, Seyamka had the fine features of a half-elf. She might even have passed for fey. She immediately made an effort to help Glasha settle in, and the two of them formed a mutual attachment.

Father, of course, pretended that Glasha didn't exist. I was thankful, more than once, that Mother was no longer here. She would have done her best to make my lover miserable. But I should have known enough to expect trouble from another family member.

I was on my way back to our chamber, after collecting a book from Aludar's room - it had illustrations that I thought she might enjoy - when I heard a scuffling sound, around the corner. And then Glasha's voice.

- "N-No!"

Then I heard a man snarl: "Shut up, bitch!"

I knew that voice, and I was already sprinting. I ran around the corner, to find Glasha pinned against the wall. My brother Merik had one hand over her mouth, while his second hand tugged at the neck of her dress, trying to tear it.

I took three more running steps and launched myself at him. The collision made Merik stagger, and he uncovered her mouth, but didn't release his grip on her dress. I got one arm around his neck, and tried to jab my thumb into his eyeball.

Merik roared, and let go of Glasha. He threw his body backwards, slamming us both into the opposite wall. He was clawing at my arm around his neck, and finally succeeded in grabbing hold of my wrist. He twisted.

He was too strong for me. I had to release my stranglehold; otherwise, he would have broken my wrist. Merik continued to twist my arm, and then slammed me into the wall, face first. Then he did it again, even more savagely. The first time stunned me; on the second, I felt a part of my face crack.

With his free hand, Merik began to beat me, punching the side of my head, then my exposed ribs and the side of my stomach.

I heard Glasha's shriek. I saw the extraordinarily bright flash of light, even though it emanated from behind me.

That's all I remember.

***

- "It doesn't appear to be permanently damaged." said the physician. "He should recover the sight in that eye. The broken cheekbone will heal. His wrist is also broken, and two of his ribs, but those should not present any difficulties as long as he does not over-exert himself. The other injuries are relatively minor."

I would have liked to laugh, but it would have hurt too much. 'Relatively minor'? I couldn't breathe without severe pain. And why do physicians have to use the third person 'he'? I was right there, and I wasn't deaf, or blind.

- "Thank you, Doctor." said my sister. She escorted him out of my - our chamber. Glasha was there, and she placed a gentle hand on my uninjured arm, partly to soothe, and partly to still me. She knew how angry I was.

My father had come to visit me, the day after I'd 'sustained my injuries'. That was the term he used for what had happened; several others began to use those words, including Tir Storum, the Commander of the Guard.

- "Rest. Get Well." said Father. "And leave this matter to me. I will admonish Merik."

It was a long speech for my sire - but a laughable one. Admonish?

Nathal came by for a while, to 'see how I was'. That was fairly honest; I believe that he was merely curious to see how badly I'd been injured. Toran, by contrast, seemed quite distraught. Sanatha took charge of me, and kept the physician and several servants hopping. Seyamka was particularly useful, willing to get me anything that my sister or my lover thought I might need.

Merik came three days later, to present a formal apology, in front of my father and all of my siblings (except Aludar, who was still in Whydah). Glasha was excluded, at my father's order, so Merik didn't have to apologize to her, or even to acknowledge that she'd been present.

Merik managed to get all of the words out. I wondered who'd written them for him. He was a terrible actor. He didn't smirk, with Father watching him, but his delivery was wooden, and completely insincere.

- "There." said the Grand Duke. "Tauma - are you satisfied?"

It was play-acting. A show of reconciliation. A farce. But my father was keen on these types of display. He would not appreciate any resistance or obstruction from me. I could utter a few words that would make me feel better, but I would have to pay for them in the long run. Worse yet, Glasha might suffer, as well.

- "I am satisfied." I said, just as woodenly as Merik. "I bear my brother no ill-will ... for what happened to me."

Father was satisfied. Sanatha had been holding her breath; she seemed surprised. With that little ceremony concluded, my family trooped out of my chamber.

Glasha returned when they were all gone. She sat on the side of my bed, and bent over to kiss my forehead.

- "I love you." she reminded me.

From the first moment I awoke after my beating, Glasha had been there to nurse me. She bathed me, fed me, and sent Seyamka to fetch my sister (and the physician) six times a day. She didn't make light of my injuries; she told me the truth.

- "What did you do?" I asked her. She knew exactly what I meant: when Merik had me at a complete disadvantage, and was delivering a savage beating, I heard Glasha shriek. There was an excruciatingly bright light, and after that ... nothing.

- "I told you that my father had been teaching me." she said.

I'd met Rhigen, Glasha's father. He was fey, and knew more about magic and the aether than Master Durgulel had ever learned.

"In moments of great need, or great peril, he told me that the aether can be gathered, and then ... released. To shield yourself from harm, or ... to strike your foes. I understood the concept, Tauma. I just wasn't able to ... expel the energy. Cast it at another. I'm sorry - I'm doing a terrible job of explaining this."

- "I think I understand."

After my Father's pointless exercise in family diplomacy, Glasha had much better news for me.

- "My father is coming." she said. "He's willing to teach us both."

- "Magic?"

- "Yes. And ... if you're feeling up to it, you have some visitors."

I tried to frown without moving any facial muscles. Glasha was sensitive enough to my reactions to understand me.

"You'll want to see them." she promised.

- "Alright."

She went out into the hall, and shortly returned with ... Yazgash and Durgat. The commander of the half-orc contingent, and my former bodyguard. They both took a very good, long look at me. I couldn't smile without causing extreme pain, thanks to my fractured cheekbone and still blackened (and purpled) eye.

- "You look like shit." said Yazgash.

- "A-huh." said Durgat.

- "I feel like shit." I said.

- "I thought it over. I will teach you to fight." said Yazgash.

- "I can help." said Durgat.

I couldn't stop myself: I smiled, causing myself more pain than I would ever wish on anyone (with a few notable exceptions).

- "Thank you."

***

Glasha nursed me back to health. She fed me, washed me, and kept my mind and body occupied. Sanatha and little Seyamka were very helpful, but it was Glasha who bore the main burden.

More than once, I suggested that she go away, to spend time with her friends in the barracks. She bristled at my well-meant advice.

- "If I was seriously hurt, Tauma, where would you be?"

The only answer I could think of was 'by your side'. Since I couldn't possibly dispute that, I surrendered to her ministrations without complaint.

She had Sanatha bring me books from Aludar's room. She also forced me to exercise, to stretch and to work my muscles.

- "You hate it now," she said, "But this will help you recover sooner."

Glasha also had Yazgash and Durgat come to my room. Yazgash began teaching me about fighting, even though I could barely move. She distinguished between killing and putting an enemy out of commission. She identified critical points that I could strike: eyes, nose, throat, just under the sternum, groin.

Durgat told me stories of some of his favourite (and most famous) fights. Despite his imposing size and immense strength, he had often resorted to underhanded tactics to finish a fight without risking serious injury to himself.

- "Sometimes, when you're fighting three or four opponents, you need a bit of an edge."

- "When you fought the scholar, you wouldn't do this." said Yazgash. "But if you could die, you have to think differently."

Glasha also talked to me about magic. That alone was worth twenty of Master Durgulel's lessons. And as I began to recover, I worked out what I wanted to do.

When I could finally stand without pain, and walk about, I remained in my room. When I could walk unaided, I took my first short excursions outside my room, always with Glasha by my side, supporting me.

In other words, I pretended to still be in terrible shape, when in fact I was getting considerably better.

That was why, six weeks after the fight in the hall, I was able to catch Merik on his way back to his room. He was drunk, and staggering a bit as went down the hall. I stepped out behind him.

It didn't hurt at all as I ran up behind him, and kicked him between the legs.

My aim was near perfect; he collapsed onto the floor. Minding Yazgash's advice, I didn't hesitate - I leapt onto his back, and smacked his head into the floor.

Merik was at my mercy. I could have done considerable damage, had I followed Yazgash's advice to its logical conclusion. Instead, I grabbed his hair, and yanked his hair back. I leaned forward.

- "Touch her again, and I'll kill you." Then I slammed his face into the floor stones. "Come after me, and you'd better kill me - because if you don't, I'll kill you."

I drew my finger across his throat, as if it were a dagger. I let go of Merik's hair, so that his head actually snapped forward, slapping the floor stones again.

I quickly stood up, and delivered another kick into my brother's unprotected testicles.

Message delivered.

***

Glasha knew what I'd done; I didn't keep it a secret from her. She understood that it was something I had to do.

- "But Merik will retaliate." she said. She herself felt safe enough, now that she knew she could release a blast of aether. But she worried that Merik might try to strike back at us in some petty way. That was why she had my brother Aludar's books moved into storage, before Merik decided that he could hurt us by destroying them.

Glasha was a good judge of character. This time, though, she underestimated my brother's malevolence and cruelty.

Father had assigned each of us a horse, kept in the Duke's stable. My habitual mount was a grey mare named Kisa; she had stamina, and was docile enough, so that I'd begun to ride her when I was only nine years old.

Kisa died, in terrible pain, because someone had put ground glass in her feed. There was nothing we could do, once it was discovered, except to put her out of her misery.

Glasha and I had no doubts whatsoever about who was responsible. It seemed unlikely, though, that Merik himself would have done the deed. For that reason, Glasha ventured into time magic, to discover who had actually killed Kisa.