Date: Fri, 8 Mar 2013 04:36:18 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 22 of The Assassin's Apprentice - gay science fiction

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                                    *****

                                 Chapter 22

      I study the jungle around me, still a bit groggy from our short
rest. The drizzle has me soaking wet, water drips off my bangs and runs
down my nose.

      Talen searches one of the bags filched from a dead slaver and fishes
out some dried cheese, bread, and wine to share with me. As for the
rations, they aren't wonderful. However, they satisfy my grumbling
belly. When we finish, I jump to my feet. He takes lead and I follow him
through the woods. Talen's a born tracker and finds the highway much
quicker than I could. We set out keeping an eye to the road ahead and
behind for any sign of trouble.

      Puddles standing in the ruts of the muddy road cascade with waves
when the thunder rolls overhead; lightning flickers sending bright shadows
fleeing before the overcast sunlight. Somewhere in the woods, I hear the
loud call of a peacock sounding mournful and distressed.

      The road sucks at my slender boots, and for the first time in my life
I wish I had fatter feet.  With a broader sole, I wouldn't sink so deep
with every step. To make matters worse, piles of horse dung turn the clay
into light brown ooze. Huge puddles gather in the canyons created by the
track of so many conscripts, and I have to be careful or end up knee-deep
in muck.

      Still, Talen and I manage to make decent time. We jog for 3-hours
without stopping, keeping parallel to the winding road. By my book, we
cover almost 10 leagues.

      Along about midnight, I spy the chain gang and my heart lifts just a
little.

      It's stopped by the roadside. Guards stand in groups on either end,
keeping constant vigil over their property. They fight off the damp and
oppressive darkness with blazing torches that hiss and sputter in the
descending raindrops.

      Talen and I creep into the woods, which are alive with the sounds of
night.

      I push the oily leaves of emerald ferns away from my face and descend
a moderate slope facing away from the road. Talen follows behind me, silent
as a prowling cat. At times, we hold our breath to remain hidden from those
who walk within the gleam of firelight only a man's length from me.  Thus I
go about searching the camp looking for HER, but Talen sees Angelaria
first.

      She's dressed in a splendid gown of royal purple, and her hair's
combed back and held with a silver clasp. An immaculate necklace of
platinum jeweled with three tiny sapphires hangs from her neck. They seem
to catch the light of the torches and reflect them in three layers of blue,
each with its own magical sparkle. She's seated at a table in a tent with
the general. To my chagrin, it looks like she's having a wonderful
time. Angelaria picks at a dinner of barbecue pork. I smell fresh cornbread
and baked beans swimming in sauce. And she lifts a fine crystal goblet to
her red lips, apparently savoring the taste of the white wine on her
palate. Verrr rolls around on the carpeted floor near her feet, playing
with a ball of colored string and jumping with each crash of thunder.

      Talen shakes his head. "You're in lust with a strange lady," he
remarks. "Methinks she's of some importance, Kian, and that we don't know
nearly enough about her."

      "Well it's not for want of asking." I look at Talen's soft, caring
eyes. They're so deeply in love with me that I wonder if I'm dreaming. He
puts his hand on my shoulder.

      "What shall we do?" he asks. "She honestly doesn't look like she's
going to want to leave."

      I frown. "Let's see if we can get a little closer. I want to hear
what they're talking about."

      Talen sighs.

      We circle around the camp, staying hidden in the woods and trees
until we're at the aft end of the tent. Wonderful shadows belonging to
those within play on the yellow silk. They're thrown thus by the torchlight
and candles inside those canvas walls.  I can even see Verrr. The kitten's
plopped itself against the wall closest to me.

      This is where Talen and I stop, crouch, and eavesdrop.

      "It's entirely possible," the general says. "There's been alliances
between the knights of Aozeran and the Israfil of Zanda before, if you
remember."

      "Of course I remember."

      "Forgive me, Lady Angelaria.  It is not often that I can dine with
someone so educated."

      "You're forgiven General," she states. I find her voice, elegant and
musical.

      "In any event, the Council of Soulwarden began its summit two days
ago.  All of the Nightshades and their pupils are present or have been
accounted for but this meeting seems to have a different agenda."

      "Oh?"

      "A woman named Kahket, a sorceress of sorts, put in an appearance a
few days ago. She's addressed the council as an emissary of Aozeran and has
demanded that Constantine give over to her a jewel called the Eye of
Blood. She's threatened the entire council with a war between the Great
Houses. But by Chagidiel's beard, Constantine didn't have it!  Damned
smooth if you ask my opinion.  Personally, I wish someone would stick a
knife in this Kahket. Of course, King Braedir fears her as any man
should. She's had infiltrators in the palace for years. To make matters
even more complicated, there's a madman named Aldric that's converting
people by the hundreds to the worship of Zandine. It's all very unsettling,
especially in a land where Tethyr's the champion of the people. Right now
Soulwarden is awash with secret societies and evil religions. Seeing as
your father is almost universally despised, your stay here should no doubt
be pleasant."

      "Don't mock me. Is this Aldric working for her?"

      "I don't know.  I suspect, however, that he is. It would not be the
first time that Asanibis allied itself with the Well of Zanda. She's got
something diabolical planned and it's got the entire town of Soulwarden
cowering in anticipation."

      The talking stops.

      I hear the tinkling of glasses inside. Silence follows for some
time. I brush the water from my face and stare back at Talen who shifts in
the mud, uncomfortably. Then I hear the general clear his throat. "The king
loves you, you know."

      She laughs. "Oh yes, I know. Verrr, come here," she says.  The shadow
of the little kitten lifts itself from the canvas wall.

      "You're a beautiful woman," he says. "If you'll not have him, will
you have me?"

      "Really Skree, aren't you a bit old for me?"

      "Nevertheless, I could support you; give you a place to call home."

      "I don't want to hurt your feelings, general, but the Mirimar's not
exactly what I had in mind when I set out from Mon Arcanos. Besides, I
could never love you, and that's the absolute truth.  I'm dreadfully sorry.
If it's any consolation, I don't love your king either. He's a thin, ugly
man with no spine and excessively poor taste in clothes."

      He laughs. "Do you even know what love is?" he asks.

      "I know what lust is," she muses. "Lust is a coffer filled with gold
owed to me by a skinny blond boy that thinks too much of himself. But at
least he has a big cock, unlike some men I know."

      The general doesn't immediately respond, but when he does, it's
filled with anger. "Blond you say? The one that escaped earlier today was
blond. That hair color is very rare. Was he a lover of yours? You play a
dangerous game, princess, if he turns up again, I'll kill him and cut off
that dick you so admire and give it to you in a velvet box. Besides, a
woman shouldn't be bound to a man that won't be able to appreciate you. Not
like I can."

      "I didn't say I was bound to him. Simply that he owes me, and I shall
have my payment soon. I think that I'd like to retire for the evening,
general," Angelaria remarks. "The conversation I'm afraid has soured my
appetite."

      I hear him snort derisively. "I would never leave you wanting for
gold, princess. I think there'll be a time soon enough when you reconsider
what you've said to me and realize that I'm offering you the best deal
you'll ever get." I see his shadow stand, reach across the table, and kiss
her hand.  "Thank you for a wonderful evening, Lady Angelaria," he says
with a bit of contempt.

      I hear his footsteps retreat then. "You two," he calls out to
someone. "Make sure that our prisoner does not escape."

      "Really, general, is all of this necessary?"

      "Just a precaution, princess, in case you decide to take a midnight
stroll."

      "Goodnight then," she states.

      And then he departs to go and inspect his prisoners for any who might
have died from the march.

      I look to Talen, but he's gone.

      When I finally spot him several yards to my left, he signals with his
fingers, saying "Let's get her out of there."

      I move past the tree line, crawling over the vines and kudzu to the
tent, and insert my dagger, making a vertical cut through the canvas. I
peer inside and I see her standing and looking like a demure little
girl. She doesn't immediately realize I've come for her; rather she admires
her kitten that's busy batting at her mahogany curls.

      I whistle and she almost drops Verrr.

      "Kian, what're you doing here?" she whispers.

      "Come on. We can leave through this hole I've made."

      She shakes her head. "I promised that I wouldn't try to escape."

      "Are you kidding me? We don't have time for games."

      She purses her lips. "Give me a minute then. I'm not dressed." She
steps behind a standing screen and starts changing her clothes. "You know,
it wasn't wise of you to come back for me.  I can take care of myself.
Besides, I have to get into that meeting in Soulwarden sometime this
week. It's imperative that I see what this Kahket plans to do.  My father
may want to know about this." She stops for a moment to look at me through
the slit in the tent. "Then again...there may be another way." She grabs an
ornate box from the table where she sat eating dinner from the general. "I
should have thought of this before."

      I chew on my lip.  "Thought of what? And who's your father, exactly?"

      "Hanibel the Pale," she states. "He's leader of the Gray Order of
Magic in Mon Arcanos."

      It takes a minute for Angelaria to join us in the woods.

      My flaring nostrils catch the pleasant whiff of her perfume; it's
like lilacs or pale roses in the springtime, and it makes my eyes and my
thoughts wander.

      "Well, are we just going to wait here for them to discover us, or did
you think that far?" she asks. Verrr seems to echo her impatience with a
quiet "meow."

      I decide not to answer her.

      I slide down the slope of wet leaves, making sure it's downwind from
her tent, and start walking back into the brush. Angelaria follows me;
Talen brings up the rear. When we've gone back far enough where I believe
our voices won't carry, I turn on her.

      "We need to settle something once and for all," I say, raising my
voice slightly and pointing a finger at her face.  "I'm calling the shots
here, not you. You could've made my job just a little bit easier back there
instead of cozying up to the slavers. And," I add, "I don't want you
questioning my orders, understand?"

      She arches an eyebrow. "Oh really? Did it ever occur to you that I
was doing fine without your help? Did it ever occur to you that I could
care less about your orders? I know more about this place than you do
anyway. I've been here. I wouldn't be surprised if all you'd managed to see
was a picture in a book somewhere. Lord knows that you can't read either,
so not even flavor text would help in your situation."

      I lower my eyes to the ground. She's absolutely right. How can I know
better? I look at her, and I feel shame creeping over my skin. I don't have
anything to say, but I want to say something, a clever response, a witty
remark.

      But there's none to be had.

      "Let's go," I say as quietly as possible. I notice Talen
frowning. She obviously has no clue that her words cut me. But Talen
definitely does, and it's taking everything he's got to hold himself back.

      We move on.

      Sometime around 10:00 at night, the rain finally stops. We're now far
ahead of the slaver column on the road. However, the wet stickiness from
the jungle humidity returns with a vengeance.  It stifles my lungs and
unlike a sticky sweater made from alpaca fur, it's impossible to shake. The
moisture permeates everything, leaving clothes smelling of mildew and
softening even the driest bread.

      Despite the fact we're all exhausted, I push us to travel well past
midnight.

      For the last two hours, Talen and Angelaria trail behind me,
whispering and talking while I take point.

      Just when we think we're safe, Talen's excellent hearing picks up the
sound of dogs baying in the distance. The general's discovered Angelaria's
disappearance, and it's not much of a logical leap to assume he's desperate
to recover her. However, there's little to no chance of them finding our
path as we crossed as many patches of stagnant swamp water as we
could. Nevertheless, I urge my companions to pick-up a pace that's grown
more leaden with every yard.

      Traffic on the road grows heavier.

      We are nearing the capital city.

      About a league from its gates, we emerge onto the highway and join
the travelers headed to Soulwarden. We cross several small towns nestled in
muddy little clearings. At one of these, I stop long enough to buy some new
provisions and to ask directions as there are roads that lead to the West
and the Icewall Mountains and to other cities on the River Magan (which is
the largest river in the world).

      And by evening, we crest a hilltop, and I see the city of Soulwarden
for the first time in my life.

      Soulwarden, or "Thorn" as it's known by many, squats in a huge crater
with four vast roads dissecting the circular city in unequal pie
sections. There are over 100,000 people living in this fetid cluster of
houses, businesses, and churches stacked one on top of the other until the
alleys are shrouded in perpetual twilight. I see that some roads end
abruptly while others split with no discernible pattern or reason. Because
the crater's in a jungle, wild trees and plants crawl over
everything. Unmaintained buildings are buried in vines. Standing pools of
water drown entire sections of road (the breeding grounds no doubt for many
varieties of mosquitoes).

      Some of the complexes I see are twenty stories high, connected to
each other by bridges and covered roads about halfway up. On the north side
of the crater runs the river Magan, a monstrous thing that's so wide, I
can't make out the other bank.

      My father once told me that the Magan is more than 30 leagues across
in many places and approaches 50 leagues at the mouth. Thorn's at the very
heart of the country, but because the waterway's so deep, ships can sail
into the Soulwarden port of call (if their captains are brave
enough). Right now, all I see are hundreds of little fishing boats and
merchant vessels rocking slowly with the ebb and flow of the muddy water,
but none so large as the galleon that Ja-Mir captains.

      The moon, Mondath, hovers like a balloon high over the steep roofs of
this teeming metropolis. The heat and the stench of the place move over me
like a tight garment. It's a suffocating, intoxicating smell...an
unstoppable font of things both repugnant and loathsome.

      Dimly, in the spiderweb of intersecting streets and avenues, I spy
the shape of windows lit by burning candlelight and saffron hue. I imagined
medieval rooms filled with tapestries and antique chandeliers. Soulwarden
is a city of contrasts...being at once the finest and the poorest. It is
both old and new.  Life and death. And the whole of it is without any
single law, no police force, yet home to the Guildhouse of Assassins that
kills indiscriminately anyone who would raise a finger against them or
question one of their actions. It's a place where the strong eat the
meek. However, fortunes can be made here in the slave and drug trade, and
that evidence is everywhere from private armies to mansions that occupy the
walls of the crater where a higher elevation affords those within cleaner
air and safety from floods.

      "Kian," Angelaria says. "Cover your head and face. Blond boys are
unheard of here, but extremely wanted by the slave trade."

      "Why?" Talen asks.

      "There's a magical loom in the city supposedly left here by Zandine
himself. He's the god of secrets. Zandine declared blond the color of
sunlight sometime in the first age. The loom can take blond hair and spin
it into thread that can be read by the sisters of the one eye, giving them
answers to any event queried of them as long as that event took place in
broad daylight. However, it isn't just any blond hair. It must be natural
and come from the head of a man and not a woman."

      "Why the sexism?" I ask.

      "Because the suns, dear boys, are female."

      "You're joking, right?" Talen scoffs. "She's joking, right Kian?"

      Angelaria raises her eyebrow. "Why's it so hard to believe. Without
sunlight, there'd be no life. Women are responsible for giving life...for
bringing children into the world."

      "Well I can't argue with that," Talen says.

      I nod and slip my mask over my head. Then I put on my cloak and
hood. The heat drives me crazy, but I don't want to attract unnecessary
attention.

      When that's done, I take lead and descend the gentle slope of the
crater astride the broad cobblestone highway that flows toward city center.
The illusion of civilized life, now and then, breaks down in the streets of
Thorn. I pass by a street brawl which ends up with three men getting their
throats slit. If that isn't horrible enough, a man dressed in magenta robes
buys the bodies almost immediately. From the conversation, I learn that the
magenta robes mark him as a priest of Chagidiel, the first of his kind I've
ever seen. He has terrible acne on his face and greasy long hair.  But most
vile is his plan to cannibalize these men with others who are unnamed in a
feast to a dark god.

      The very thought of it turns my stomach. But Talen doesn't have the
same reaction. He observes the man with thumb and forefinger pressed to his
chin as if in deep thought. Angelaria purses her lips and looks to Talen,
tilting her head ever so slightly. He responds with a 'thumbs up,' and I
wonder what they are up to.

      "Kian," Angelaria says, "would you like to try some of this?" I think
I see her wink at Talen, but it happens so quickly that I can't be
sure. She produces a small box containing some white powder. "You sniff it
through this tiny straw. I got it from the general as a gift, and it's very
precious. It will make you feel...less tense. While this circulates in your
blood, you won't mind the sights of Thorn and jeopardize our ability to go
undetected in the city."

      I stare at it. "I-I think I'll pass--" I begin to say.

      But Talen cuts me off. He puts his hand on my shoulder and nods. "Try
it, buddy. It'll take the edge off. Plus, I hear it's great to fuck on when
we get down to business later. It heightens sensation while putting off
your orgasm."

      "I had some earlier," Angelaria says. "It's relaxing and
pleasureful. I insist that you try it and stop being a prude."

      "What's it called?" I ask, picking up the straw. Fearlessly, I sniff
some of the powder, perhaps too much, and feel a cool sensation on the
inside of my nose before the drug sends a powerful euphoria to my head. The
rush leaves my feet and hands tingling with excitement, and I feel like I
can fly even though my feet never leave the ground.

      "It's called Eros." She reaches up and strokes my ear, and I find her
touch enervating.

      Behind me, Talen giggles. "His eyes are already dilating," he says.

      I lift my mask to kiss him. Talen smiles and holds the straw for me
to take another hit.  "That's my Kian," he whispers, but all I hear is "You
belong to me." It's exactly what I desire from him. And then he French
kisses me, and the heat of his mouth leaves me light-headed and hard
between the legs.

      My senses are stripped raw by Eros.

      I feel the roll of water beading on my skin, I notice the fine
blemishes on Talen's flesh, I can even taste his sweat in the air. When I
look up and see a bird, I swear I can see every detail in every feather.

      "Eros..." I murmur.

      To my left, the murderer of those men strikes a deal with the razide
of Chagidiel. Gold is exchanged, and he helps to put the bodies in a cart
that the priest pushes in front of him for just this purpose. But, instead
of being bothered, I wonder what the men will taste like and smack my lips.

      I wonder how they'll be prepared.

      "Do you think they'll use barbecue sauce?" I ask Talen.

      He shrugs. "Hard to say; I've never eaten a person before." He
giggles and winks once more at Angelaria. "That stuff is incredible. Kian,
maybe they'll just roast them on a spit or serve them with diced potatoes."

      "I like potatoes," I say eyes wide, suddenly imagining platters of
them covered in gravy. "Are we going to eat some?"

      Talen bursts out laughing. "Not yet, boyfriend. Not yet."

      We walk past poor and homeless people by the hundreds. They take
refuge here much the same as they would in Clothol, and I think to myself
"how inventive" instead of feeling as if I understand their plight or even
a shred of pity. They skulk about in out-of-the-way places, covering their
heads with garbage, and sleeping in sewage gutters. The only thoughts that
cross my mind are "I wonder why they don't throw the garbage away" and "a
gutter seems like an illogical place to crash. There's too much
water...what if it got in your nose? How would you breathe?"

      I voice many of my questions, and Talen giggles constantly. I love
the way he looks. He's so happy.

      A child with a swollen belly wanders toward me, crying. He knocks on
doors, skin pockmarked with insect bites.

      Talen whispers in my ear, "Put the child out of his misery, Kian."
But what does he mean? I would never hurt a child.

      In the next instant, I draw my sword and kill the boy right there in
the street. I don't know why, but I look to Talen and ask, "Did I do good?"
even as the boy's blood runs to one side and collects among the
cobblestones.

      Talen's expression appears smug. He says, "Yes. But we must move."

      Angelaria whispers to him something that sounds a lot like, "Eros has
a powerful effect on him. Be careful for he will obey you completely."

      "I kind of like it," Talen states. "For once, I'm in control. Do you
think our plan will work?  When do we meet Braedir?"

      "Shortly," she tells him.

      "Who's Braedir?" I ask but she shushes me with her finger. "You'll
see soon, my love. You are the most important part of that meeting. Talen
and I need you to help us with a task. Here, have another hit of Eros." She
holds out the box and the white powder calls to me even as my blood
races. I put away my sword and sniff at it, pulling much of the white
powder into my narrow nostrils.

      Gods...I love this stuff. I love how it makes me feel.

      "Where are we going?" I ask her, turning my head from Talen to the
lovely Angelaria. I desire them both so equally that I'm left confused.

      "I need to see the king," Angelaria says.

      I smile. "Somehow, I don't think that we're dressed for the
occasion."

      She looks at me. "You're fine.  King Braedir Kaietel of Soulwarden is
an unsavory man. And he's not so much an actual king as he is the person
with the largest private army outside the Guildhouse of Assassins. You'll
probably like him."

      I rub my tongue against the roof of my mouth not wanting to say
anything. Angelaria pushes past me and heads down the street. Astonished, I
follow her while staying at Talen's side; she negotiates the streets of
this medieval town like a professional. After a few minutes of walking we
stop at the door to a tavern with large windows crossed in broad wooden
mullions. The bottom half of the outside wall is carefully laid river rock
and the upper half contains brilliant little windows and whitewashed wooden
planks. The second story juts out over the first like a precarious shack on
the edge of a chasm.  An antiquated sign painted green and embossed with
gold showcases a stuffed pig on a spit.

      Angelaria lifts her head, taking note of the sign before stepping
inside. The inn's stuffed with hairy men and their whores. Glass bottles
both empty and full lie in every imaginable place about the room, knocked
over on barrels and tabletops, shattered into pieces strewn upon the floor,
or being kicked around by dogs pawing at rotten table scraps. I blink and
watch the broken bottles reassemble themselves and break again over and
over. It's so amusing I laugh, and Talen tugs me by the elbow. A few men
and some women stare at us as we pass.

      Angelaria wastes no time. She walks over to a table where a man in a
soiled velvet doublet and green hose sits. He's licking a barmaid on her
bare breast and sucking on her large dark nipples.  The man wears his hair
in a long ponytail, and it looks as if it's never been washed. In addition,
he sports a full beard and mustache. His eyes are beady like those of a
reptile. They're black spots of coal in a face that seems too narrow for
his body.

      "He looks as if made of cookie dough," I blurt out.

      Talen pulls me into his chest and says, "Focus on me for a moment,"
and I do. I sink into his warm eyes as if they are pools beckoning me to
swim within them. "Now be quiet," he says.

      I nod obediently, and he scratches me behind the ear. It feels so
good, I look down and see I'm actually floating off the ground. Or at least
it seems like it.

      Braedir regards Angelaria. They've been talking some time. White
droplets of milk sparkle in his chin hair. I glance at the whore and see
she's lactating, and I almost want to throw up in my mouth (at least just a
little bit). But the man smiles approvingly, as if completely unaware of
his appearance or simply uncaring, and for the most part, his eyes never
drift higher than Angelaria's boobs. I fear just a little for her virginity
which I want to take for myself when this guy pushes the barmaid away from
him with his right hand.

      "It's been a long time," he says. "You still pure? Or has that been
stolen from me?"

      Angelaria laughs at him. "You'll never know."

      "Come here, lover." He tries to grab her but she sidesteps him
easily.

      "Come now, my king. With all of this attention I wouldn't think you'd
miss me any more than a stiff breeze. How have you been Braedir? And keep
your paws to yourself."

      "Unsettled, since last you left."

      This slob is the king!  I shake my head disdainfully.

      "I'll speak to you in private," Angelaria indicates. She turns and
looks at the women who appear to either side of Braedir.

      I think they look like skanks. I've certainly fucked better. Each
carries a bottle of wine and they all wear oily smiles, the kind that
result from sweaty sex in which there's no cleanup.

      "I'm sorry ladies, but your king has business," Angelaria tells
them. Then, she reaches down and grabs Braedir by the doublet. In the next
instant, she yanks him to his feet.

      "You spoil everything, princess," he says, putting his arm around her
shoulder. Angelaria guides him to the stairs that lead up to a second floor
room.  It's flanked by a wooden rail that's broken in at least three
places.

      A man standing guard at the bottom of the stairs stops us, "And just
who are these other two?"

      "My friends," she says. "They'll be coming along too."

      The guard shakes his head. "That one on the left must remove his
mask."

      "I'm not taking off anything," I say with my best challenging tone. I
know I'm six-feet tall, but I swear to this guy, I must be a giant.

      "Braedir, order your man to stand aside," Angelaria says. "You can
trust them."

      "If you say so," he says, eyes ogling her. "It's all right Olaf. If
she's vouching for these men, then they will do me no harm."

      Olaf begrudgingly nods and moves to the right. I can't resist saying
to him as I pass, "It's not like you could stop me if I wanted to kill
anyone in this room anyway. So be a good dog and make certain you're never
in my way."

      I see Olaf glare at me, but he holds his tongue. Halfway up, he
whispers something to Angelaria. She nods, "Yes, he's the one. He's
presently in the grip of Eros."

      "Ahh, but are you sure he'll meet Leto's standards?"

      "He'll meet anyone's standards, he's Atlantean. Have you got the
Timeron Knight armor that will fit him exactly? It must be exceptionally
svelte on him, like a second skin."

      "I do," Braedir says. "I was at a loss as to how you would get him to
wear it. But Eros...I never expected you to stoop so low. It's absolutely
brilliant. You are aware of the physiological risks?"

      "Do I look like I care? I will get paid my money," she says
sharply. "He owes me quite a bit, and it's not like it won't help his own
reputation. I'm fond of his appearance, yes. But I'm first and foremost, a
business woman."

      I know that they're talking about me. And I want to interrupt and ask
questions. But every time I try to focus my mind, I see Talen out of the
corner of my eye and am drawn to his lips.  Sometimes he allows me to kiss
him. And when I look back, I've forgotten everything. It's like his lips
have the touch of amnesia.

      At the top of the stairs, Angelaria opens a door. Inside we find a
small room with a bed, a conference table, three stools and a wash
basin. There aren't any windows, but there's a chest at the foot of the
bed.  Talen and I enter last and shut the door quickly, locking it into
place.

      "Can we be overheard here?" Talen asks.

      "Not really," the king comments. "The tavern's too noisy. It's hard
to hear anything over that."

      "Good," Angelaria says. "I'll keep this short. You know I plan to get
into the assassin's council meeting here in Soulwarden. How soon can we get
Kian into the armor and at the Blood Dungeon?"

      "Why do you need to get in?" he asks. "I've a right to know."

      She considers Braedir's question. "I've heard that a woman named
Kahket has been stirring things up here and I want the details," she says.

      "Oh...that!" he exclaims. "Yes, she's here, along with that sniveling
sycophant, Aldric."  Braedir looks to Talen. "If I get you into the
meeting, you've got to stick a knife in him for me.  But you've got to let
him know before he dies that it comes from King Braedir. I can lend you
knife or something to do it with.  He'll be surprised by that, I think."

      Talen raises one eyebrow. "I suppose if you scratch my back, I'll
scratch yours."

      I idly start to scratch Talen's back and he politely tells me to
stop.

      I give him the puppy dog eyes, and it makes him shake his head. Then
he hugs me.

      Braedir pauses, thinking about what's been said. "All the Nightshades
the world over have been convening here for the last month.  I've no idea
what they're discussing, but it must be important. There's a minor meeting
tonight between Kahket and a Timeron Knight by the name of Calisto
Blackmore. He's here with a legion of black armored evil knights; some say
he's a powerful death knight. Others call him a demon, but I don't believe
that rumor. Kahket's the one with the demon, and she's had it skulking
about the city doing her bidding during the Guildhouse Summit these past
few weeks. Calisto is a cruel general who likes to fuck comely men, just
like the soldiers who serve him. But they have very high standards,
princess. No one knows what these standards are for sure, but if their
physical fitness is any indication of what they like, then your man will
have to be quite a looker to distract Calisto enough for all of you to get
access to his magical amulet."

      "Oh trust me," she says. "He is."

      Talen grabs her by the elbow.

      "You're hurting me; let go," she warns.

      Under his breath, Talen says, "You promised me on the road that Kian
wouldn't get fucked.  He's my boyfriend, and I don't want to share him."

      Angelaria pats him on the cheek. "I said I wouldn't let him get
fucked up. But if you're going to be a hero to the church of Tethyr, you
need to sacrifice some of your possessions. He has a sweet ass and cock and
it's our best chance to sell it for all its worth. Don't worry...you'll be
there to watch it happen. If it bothers you so much, kill them afterward
for violating that sweet flesh. Just don't let your jealousy ruin our
plan. You know you want this, and I want to get paid."

      "How exactly am I going to be a hero?" Talen asks. "You've been vague
on that, but I've trusted you thus far. It had better be fucking good or
else."

      "Or else? Are you threatening me? Just shut up and listen," Angelaria
says to him.

      It's weird but I agree with her. I want to say to Talen, yeah shut up
and listen to her! But I don't say that of course, because I want him to
kiss me, and I suspect he'd be mad at me if addressed him thus.

      But in the next instant, I realize I've no clue what she said that
got Talen so miffed.

      Braedir snorts. "Is there a problem?"

      "No," Angelaria answers. "Why do you think Kahket is meeting with
Calisto?"

      Braedir takes a moment to answer. "I think Calisto plans to invade
Bakora once he pounds out an alliance of sorts with this Kahket. They'll be
meeting in the old theater house on the other side of town. You can go in
with me, if you'd like. I AM the king, after all." He stops talking and
sits down on his bed. "We've got time for an interlude," he indicates,
slapping the mattress.

      Angelaria's eyes narrow, dangerously.

      That look sobers him up immensely.

      "It's only a joke," he says.

      "Don't be absurd," she declares with a sharp tone, "or I'll turn you
into a toad. What does this Aldric fellow look like?"

      "He's about as tall as that fellow right there," he says, indicating
Talen. "He's thin, not in the same way as the masked boy. He's not muscular
at all and his skin has a whiteness to it that seems almost transparent,
like a corpse.  His hair is white, like milk, with dirty gray roots, and he
has an overly large mouth and pointed nose."

      Talen clears his throat. "How long have you known about him?"

      "About a year," he states. "I started hearing his name bantered about
my castle. You see, he claims to be a prophet...a soothsayer of sorts that
speaks to anyone willing to listen about the end of the world.  It's a lot
of mumbo jumbo if you ask me."

      "What does he say?" I ask him. He pauses, staring me in the eyes.

      "High as a kite...," Braedir states. "It's remarkable at how large
his pupils are. I can hardly see any blue at all, although his eyes are
lovely as you say."

      "It's a legitimate question," Angelaria states to get Braedir back on
track. She opens the box containing Eros and gives me another hit. I sniff
it through the straw and wipe excess powder from my nose. "Answer his
question!"

      Braedir clears his throat. "Aldric says that 'a darkness shall come.
He says that the god of shadows shalt cast forth his gaze to the land of
blood and He shalt take to his side His bride and that the earth shall
carry forth the rumor of His footsteps so that all shall hail the beginning
of the end.' All of his rantings might have fallen on deaf ears except for
the fact that Tempest Mountain has been unusually active as of the last few
months. We experience a few tremors from time to time and the natives
interpret this as His coming.  Aldric fanned the flame of their passion
with his words and has demanded sacrifices of livestock and cattle,
commanding them to repent and to give of themselves to Him so that they
might be spared.  Some of my closest advisors have even told me that human
sacrifice is being done once more, a practice that I thought had been
safely stamped out.  With the frequency of the tremors still rising, panic
has closed-in on the city. Aldric defied me at my own castle gate and
declared that I brought the wrath of the new god down upon them!"

      "How's that?" Talen asks.

      "Soulwarden is a very particular type of town with its own particular
type of people.  It's one of the only cities of any size where you'll
actually find churches to the god of thieves. Most folk are too pure to
dedicate or set aside places to worship a god that supports stealing and
assassination.  It's not the type of thing you want broadcast. Anyway,
Thorn is an exception and has been for several centuries. That is UNTIL
NOW. Aldric has told everyone that the churches all must go, that we must
dedicate new shrines and holy places to the new god.  Some have even
suggested that the land of blood that the scriptures indicate is a
reference to my city and that the priests and churches of Tethyr are in
fact the instrument of everyone's doom.  I made the mistake of publicly
denouncing his accusations. But shortly after that, the preceptor of
Tethyr's church turned up dead in his house with half of it gutted out by a
fire that threatened to burn the entire city."

      "A preceptor?" Talen states, but with incredulity and shock thick in
his voice. He utters the word in the form of a question. "That's only one
removed from the Gray Warder, the disciple of Tethyr himself." Talen turns
to me and says, "There're eleven preceptors of Tethyr, Kian, and if one is
dead, this is significant."

      I giggle.

      "What's so funny?" he asks me.

      My head is swimming and all I can think of is the number eleven. I
say, "I have an eleven inch cock. You could suck it for me."

      Talen rolls his eyes and pats me on the cheek. "Be quiet for a moment
and stare at that painting on the wall."

      I look at where he's pointing and see a field of butterflies, and I'm
mesmerized by the detail in their wings.

      Braedir continues his story, but it's difficult for me to
listen. "Naturally, the sect loyal to Tethyr blamed me as well.  In the
last week, I've had two separate assassination attempts on my life.  One of
them killed the best bodyguard I'd ever had.  I can hardly sleep anymore,
and I absolutely dread going home to my castle.  The whole place reeks of
death."

      "How was the priest killed?" I ask. I don't know why I ask it, but
the question just bubbles to my lips.

      "No one knows.  The fire apparently started from inside the house and
it burned so hotly that some of the stones fused together.  However, other
rooms in the house were left completely untouched.  No glass was broken in
these rooms but all the doors were locked, tight as a drum, and every
window secured."

      "Impossible," Angelaria says.

      "I wouldn't lie to you," Braedir replies. "These are merely how
investigators on the scene recorded what they found there."

      "Could it be magic?" Talen asks.

      "I don't know," Angelaria answers. "To get something burning that hot
and that specific would take tremendous training.  It's beyond my skill,
but I've heard of fire mages that could possibly wield that type of
constraint. The effort would be exhausting, however, and he'd hardly be
able to remove himself from the scene unaided. Preceptor or not, all of
that just to burn a man to death seems a little bit unnecessary."

      "Oh he wasn't burned to death," the king interrupts. "He was
poisoned. The fire didn't even touch him where they found his body lying on
the stone floor of his refectory."

      "How soon after the fire started did firefighters arrive on the
scene?" Talen asks.

      "Almost immediately, I'm told.  Buildings are very close together
here in the pit. We all move quickly when we smell the scent of smoke or
we'd all suffocate. On bad days, the smog lingers over the rooftops so
thick it makes you cough. Most of the time the wind off Tempest Mountain
blows it out of here." He shrugs his shoulders, resting his back against
the peeling plaster of the back wall.  "Thorn's in a terrible geographic
location. But priests and peasants alike believe it's a holy place where
Tethyr first scooped gold from the land and where the bones of his body lie
entombed, under the Chamber of Souls in the main Basilica."

      "Bones!" I exclaim, incredulously. "He actually lived!?"

      Braedir's eyes widen in surprise and he stares at me as I must be
staring at him. "So the legend says, my skinny friend. The gods all
supposedly walked the earth as we walk it now, but in a different time and
place. At some point in their history, they decided to depart Wynwrayth to
watch the scurrying of man from a much loftier place. No one really knows
when it happened, but old texts and books talk of a day of silence when the
gods left their immortal bodies to lie low upon the earth with the mud and
the worms. At some point, a fanatical monk named the day god's death and
it's revered as a holy day in towns and cities all over the world."

      "I've never heard of it," I tell him.

      "Well," he remarks, "It's not really big here in our corner of the
world."

      "It's huge in Sulasia," Angelaria cuts in. "All of Mon Arcanos shuts
down to honor its passing."

      "Mon Arcanos?" Talen ventures with a question.

      She smiles. "'Mon' simply means 'the city of.' It's my home. A
magnificent city of tall ivory spires reaching up so high that the tops of
them clear the clouds. It lies at the center of the Sea of Magic with
graceful flying bridges and courtyards rimmed with exotic gardens and ivory
fountains.  We have a marvel there that lights houses without smoke. The
entire city is shaped like a three leaf clover with the tower of Milbar
rising from its heart. The three leafs of the clover are enclosed in
sparkling domes of rainbow glass and glittering vessels descend on the city
day and night, from the stars, carrying corobidian from the mines of
Kala-Pur."

      I behold her with wide-eyed amazement. I can almost see the exquisite
towers and minarets and the placid shores of this far away and very magical
place.

      Talen interrupts. "The house of the preceptor...is it under guard?"

      "Oh yes," the king says. "By Calisto's men no less. There are
fourteen of them, all cape dancers. If you haven't seen Timeron knights
cape dance, then you truly have not witnessed death.  But Kahket extended a
supernatural ward over the property as well, until such a time as an
emissary from the Guildhouse of Assassins can obtain the time to undergo a
proper investigation. They're all tied up with the summit, you
see. Meanwhile, Kahket has obtained almost exclusive access to the house of
a very important man to the church of thieves. Her motivations are of
course, completely nefarious. She wants a church secret by which she can
trade/blackmail the Guildhouse into forcing one of their Nightshades, an
assassin named Constantine, to give up a rare jewel that she seeks. Only
someone given the blessing of Calisto himself can pass through the
supernatural ward. He has an amulet you see that bestows the blessing. To
get it, you must rub your hand over it, but no one gets that close. And of
course I have my men there as well, as does the church of thieves. The
place is watched day and night. But thus far, Calisto has denied admittance
to any requests to breach the ward. He says he'll await orders from the
Assassin's council out of respect for the clergy and their summit."

      "You say that the preceptor was killed. Poisoned. Angelaria has said
that to have a fire burning like this one would require a great deal of
control," Talen says.

      It suddenly dawns on me. "He's still in the house...the murderer is
still in the house," I say proudly. And then I stare at the floor which
must be ten feet beneath me; I'm floating in thin air.  "Look...I'm
flying." I hold out my long thin arms like the wings of a bird.

      "He'd have to be," Talen agrees, pulling my arms back down to my
sides. "That's why Kahket put the ward in place...to keep people from
looking. If the murderer is there, it's definitive proof that she killed
this priest. Then she'd have the entire church of Tethyr looking to murder
her...a simple task with so many Nightshades in town."

      "Now it's my turn to say impossible," the king says. "The heat's too
intense. Besides, people on the scene didn't see anyone. He would've turned
up when they checked the house."

      "I admit that it doesn't seem plausible," Talen says. "But the only
way we can be sure is to check it out. And assuming Kian is correct, if we
find the murderer, then THAT'S how I become a hero to our church! Bravo,
Angelaria. I could write my own ticket, perhaps even control an entire
country of guilds in the name of the church. Hero," Talen says, "has a nice
ring to it."

      "It does indeed," Angelaria says, crossing over to him. She kisses
Talen full on the lips and he drops his hand to her butt, squeezing one of
her cheeks.

      I grin, watching them both. They stop kissing after a while, and
Talen slips his hand back into mine.

      Angelaria, however, is more insistent. She trails her finger down his
neck. "When you're a hero, you can pay me the money you owe me. You get
fame, I get fortune, and we part ways."

      "And," Talen whispers, "You don't get any part of my
boyfriend. That's what I'm looking forward to the most when you leave. I'll
make sure he forgets you."

      She sighs and stares at me. "I guess it wasn't meant to be, my love,"
she says. "But if you think he'll forget me...you're more of a fool than I
thought."

      Talen scowls and I'm wondering why he's scowling. I take my fingers
and force his lips into a smile before he playfully slaps my hands from his
face.

      I grin at Angelaria. "I guess not," I say to her.

      Then I happily return my gaze to Talen, my head swimming in the kind
of good vibes that only puppy love creates.

      He puts his hands on the side of my face. "You'll always love only
me," he says, staring into my eyes.

      I nod. "Yes, Talen." And I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't.

      The king seems generally intrigued. "You're playing with fire in
using Eros on him," he says.  "Atlanteans are especially susceptible to its
incredible effects."

      "Mind your own business, my king," Angelaria replies.

      Braedir clears his throat, "The only way you'll get Calisto's
blessing is to isolate him privately and touch the amulet he wears around
his neck. They'll be at the Blood Dungeon later tonight."

      "Tell me more of this place," Angelaria demands.

      "Well, as per our correspondence via mirror from your tent while
traveling with Skree, it's a brothel owned and operated by the church of
Chagidiel that features only male models offered for pleasure to paying
customers; the younger, the better. The whores who work there make a lot of
money, and only the richest elite can afford their prices. The place is
never hiring unless there are especially violent requests, and those are
handled secretly by the razide of Chagidiel that runs the place. The worker
is never informed, but it results in a vacancy in their staff of sixty
men. However, it's so rare that the place has no trouble securing new
'talent' because even being there for a few months secures one enough money
to live on for a lifetime. I should warn you, the Blood Dungeon is not
hiring. They want no new models."

      "They haven't seen Kian yet," Talen says.

      "You're awfully confident in your boyfriend. I guess you'll know soon
enough. When we finish here, you'll follow me to my home where the Timeron
knight armor is stored that your man here will wear. The armor appeals to
fetishists. You," he says pointing at Talen, "will take him into a Meronese
bathhouse on the street of the obscene statues. They'll know soon enough
that he's not a legitimate knight, and that you're pimping him out. The
staff of the brothel washes every day before they perform. They are watched
over by Leto, a razide priest of Chagidiel with black skin and many
piercings. Get into the bathhouse, and impress Leto, and he might possibly
buy what you're selling...namely him. But he has very specific tastes."

      "I think we can ensure that Leto will find our dear Kian delectable,"
she says, patting me on the cheek.

      "Delectable?" I query. "Are we going to eat somewhere?"

      Talen giggles. "He's adorable this way. We'll be eating, but you
won't."

      "Why not?" I ask. "And you think I'm adorable?"

      Talen kisses me. "Of course I do. And we need you a little starved so
that your muscles are very defined for the boys tonight. Kian, do you love
me? Are you willing to do whatever I ask tonight? Whatever that I need you
to do? For me and for Angelaria?" He rubs his fingers gently over my
delicate ears and my heart flutters with the sensation.

      "Of course," I say without hesitation. And then I try to sort through
my clouded mind.  "What is it that you need me to do again?"

      "You need to follow me," Angelaria says, "and Braedir to his home.
Then we're going to get you dressed in some very nice full plate armor
while Talen, the king, and I eat dinner. Then Talen will take you to a bath
house to get clean and to meet some friends. These are friends who really
want to meet you, Kian."

      I blink, liking very much the sound of this plan. "I love baths and
friends," I say.

      And then we follow Braedir out of the room, but not before Angelaria
gives me another hit of Eros from her lovely ornate box.

                                    *****

      I shall post Chapter 23 next week