Prince Rasgen sat at the council table in the heart of his palace. His ministers looked much the worse for wear, but if he was certain of anything, it was that he looked worse.
His beard had not been cut nor even properly cleaned, his clothing from yesterday was still on his body, having not had the will to even call for a servant to dress him. His eyes, staringing back at him in the reflection of a suit of decorative armor on the wall, showed deep dark circles underneath them. The eyes themselves were cracked and red from sleeplessness and tears alike, and his noble voice was more cracked than that of a boy on the cusp of manhood.
“Thank you for coming. I know… it was not easy to make it here today,” the Prince said to his elders. “Hard enough for me, I am still young, and yet I feel like I’ve been kicked by a hundred horses.” He touched his forehead and rubbed it slowly with his calloused fingers, he met no one’s eyes, and they did not meet his. As it was, they looked down at the fine table, the place of power where lives were guided, which was now surrounded by broken wills and heavy hearts.
General Leaman’s bushy gray old beared rubbed his oversized belly as he answered in an affectionate voice, “My Prince… I have watched you grow to manhood since your father’s time, as long as you call, if I am not in the grave, then I will come even if I have to crawl on my belly from across the world.”
“Especially now…” Minister Ulmin interjected, “We know your feelings for… for Lady Sobella. She’s respected among the people, and loved by the slaves. We’ve come to appreciate her as well, had things… well.” He stopped speaking, “We’re truly sorry. Will she be with us this morning?”
“No, she is in great pain, I have her resting now.” Prince Rasgen didn’t look up at the minister, his head barely moved, though his hand did, over to take a cup of mulled wine in a shaking hand.
Minister Ulmin and General Leaman traded covert glances, ‘Great pain? What did the foreign whore do with them?!’ Recalling some of the mercenary captain… and noble’s more brutal depictions of the passions of the west and her own penchant for savagery when it was called for, the image of a wild array of depravity passed through Minister Ulmin’s mind, in which his youthful, cheating, harlot wife featured large. ‘Why… why does she have to do this to me?!’ He asked himself with quiet despair. He covered his thoughts by fidgeting, twisting the long thin beard around his finger, hidden beneath the table.
General Leaman began to tap a finger on the table, and the Prince went on, oblivious. “She may be up later, for now, this is about the matter of her escort. Someone will need to go with her when the time comes. Fortunately we have a little more time, the new moon is considered bad luck, that adds to their time table for delivery. A few days more or so of life? Perhaps that isn’t nothing. Better than none at least.” He brought the cup to his lips, warm drops of red liquid spilled a bit, some down his scraggly facial hair, a bit more onto his clothes, where it soaked in and stained the skin beneath. “Nonetheless, they want an escort to go with her, and we need to decide who to send.”
Minister Ulmin leaned forward over the table, the twirling finger around the tip of his long thin beard returned to the hand and formed a fist beneath the table. It lightly tugged his beard, but he ignored the tiny sharp sting and said instantly, “I nominate Duchessa Aiwenor.”
Prince Sado frowned deeply, his heavy lidded, cracked and weary eyes turned slowly toward his minister.
Before he could ask anything, General Leaman spoke up.
“I second the suggestion.” His finger tapped faster on the table.
The heavy eyes went from one to the next. “That was… fast. Explain your reasoning.” Rasgen demanded, setting the cup down on the table, his fingers twitched, it sloshed and spilled when the cup toppled onto its side. It rolled away slowly toward the edge, then dropped and clattered to the floor. The Prince neither tried to grab it nor cursed its fall, and did not even summon a servant to tend to the mess. He only had eyes for the minister and his general.
“My Prince, I understand you have taken a liking to our ah, our new Duchessa. But she is not heavily invested in the city, her loss cannot harm it, her abundant spending of her coins however, is still a problem. At least until we have enough to melt down. We need to…” Minister Ulmin’s twirling of his beard picked up pace, he felt himself start to sweat as he tried to think of more to say under the watchful eye of Prince Rasgen.
“Slow her down, My Prince.” General Leaman said hastily, leaning heavily back in his chair, his gruff voice matched his weight as he explained. “My Prince, she’s been a disruptive element since her arrival, I don’t presume to judge your, ah… company, that is not my place. But between taking one of my regiments, buying a title, and just… everything she does, it is uncomfortable to the balance. The mages guild and the smithing guild sent her a joint gift, and you know they rarely speak at all. She hired expensive headman ranked adventurers , and she’s been using Kaiji to buy up Komestrans. It’s all…” His thick fat lips stood out surrounded by his white beard, so when they came together he looked even more unhappy,
“It’s all upsetting. She needs to be slowed down so we can adapt. Melt some of her coins. Send some investigators west and look into her a little bit, how do we know she’s not a foreign agent? We know nothing of her but what she says.”
“That is a… a fair point actually.” Minister Barsam, minister of justice, pointed out, shifting noisily in his seat. “I have sent questions out about anyone fitting her description, or that of her bodyguard, to every city I could that is east of the Triumvirate, but I found only one thing and that was just a little better than a rumor.”
“And it was what, exactly?” Rasgen’s eyes lit up just a little on the slender old minister of Justice. The old man stroked his beard from top to bottom the way one might a cat laying in their lap, “Ah, well, we spoke to a woman, she claimed to have come to the city from the west. She was one of a small number of people who violently opposed the religious leader we believe the Duchessa spoke of. The one she refers to as ‘The Dark Savior’. The woman claimed that out of pity she was exiled rather than executed with her cohorts. We managed to get a ‘somewhat’ detailed history of the west over the years before her coming here.* A great war did take place, and she knew some of those responsible by name. Neia, Skana, Enri, Ainz, Remedios, Suchala, Boabdil, Yuri, and a few others. When pressed, the name of Nua Calen Aiwenor was unknown to her. She cautioned us that her knowledge was incomplete, the war consumed every nation she knew by name and some lands she’d never heard of until their soldiers were marching on her capital. I don’t know if the Duchessa lies, her skills seem real enough, taking down one of the three great smugglers by herself with one eighth the manpower is no small feat. But we know too little. Buying time to study her more, and a chance to perhaps speak more with any slaves she has, it seems wise. At the very least, she’s committed no crimes elsewhere, which I half suspected, but still...”
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“She is a mercenary…” Minister Skorazen spoke up. “Foreign Affairs had no more luck than the Ministry of Justice. We should send some agents west, try to find out more about where she’s from.”
“Let the mercenary go out ‘mercenarying’ for us, she can hardly refuse without destroying her reputation. If she’s as good as all that, she’ll come back alive. And if she’s not, we’ve lost no assets and gotten all her remaining wealth for the city. Our financial crisis from her… behavior, will be solved, and at the very least she should be able to keep Sobella safe for at least a little longer.” Minister Skorazen coughed uncomfortably and his jaw twitched a little against the faint scar on his cheek.
“Compelling arguments… but there is the matter of the Triumvirate between us and her homeland.” Prince Rasgen’s haggard face managed a wan smile as he summarized the problem as if it were a mild annoyance.
“Well, we just have to have a reason to let us pass…” Minister Skorazen’s mouth twitched further, “Demon elf slaves are rare, exceptionally so. For there to be even two within this city is remarkable. But, what if we acquired three? We could offer one to each of the members of the Triumvirate. The Devor Empire is on the far west, their capital is only a few days away as the crow flies, from the supposed minotaur kingdom. If we send a few agents along as escorts for the delivery of tributes, then surely a few could slip away unnoticed, stick to the wilds, and make their way west.”
“And the means to communicate?” Prince Rasgen pointed out, sitting upright in his chair. “Only a fool trusts messenger spells, even encoded.”
Minister Skorazen shrugged, “By ship, it’s longer, yes. But I would prefer to remain ignorant for one month over one year, and one year over permanently, as the saying goes. This way we can confirm things for ourselves. If it turns out to be useless, or the agents die, or she dies… we’ve lost nothing we cannot live without. But if it succeeds and we needed what they provide us?” He spread open his hands as if the answer was self explanatory.
“Very well, but Ministers,” Prince Rasgen turned his attention again to the withered or fat old men, “we got a look at some of the documents she’s signed, and her hand doesn’t flow properly. It’s clear that whatever language she’s writing with, it isn’t ours. That means she learned how to read and write our language before she got here. Either she had a source of knowledge at hand, which I doubt, or she brought someone to her to learn it. We should check with the scholars, see if someone knows something about that. I don’t think she’s the threat you gentlemen do, she’s simply new. She’s a foreigner, it would take a great deal for ‘anyone’ to follow her sincerely. As such, she is most secure following me. I’m sure she will settle down once she’s accustomed herself to her title and life of ease here.”
“So, our proposal, My Prince?” Ulmin asked
Prince Rasgen inclined his head favorably, if slower than he commonly did. “Yes, send a letter to her estate that she is to come and see me immediately after her lost property is recovered. She will be my guarding hand, and protect Sobella to her final hour…” The Prince’s face fell, and he placed his hands on the table and pressed against it, helping himself to stand. “Ex-excuse me. I want to go be with her now, unless there is any other business… gentlemen, I will leave the day to day of the city in your hands for a little while. Only send the Duchessa to me when she is done, oh… and Minister Ulmin, I’d like to discuss some final matters with your wife pertaining to an upcoming ball the Duchessa expressed interest in throwing. Send her to me tonight.”
Minster Ulmin bowed his head humbly, “My wife will be in attendance as you command, My Prince.”
“Good… excuse me.” The Prince said again, and made his way out of the room unceremoniously and with great haste.
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“Present your lock, Kaiji.” Nua gave the order with a quiet voice that set the demon-elf’s skin a tingle.
She took her raven black hair in hand and brought it forward, then from her knees, bowed her head deeply, exposing the back of her neck where the collar that took her magic and marked her status was secured.
Her heartbeat sounded loud even to herself, and her blood red eyes closed. The thin white robe fell slightly down and back, away from the lock in the opposite direction.
Nua took her key and with the faintest ‘snick’ sound, the lock was undone. She removed the lock and opened the collar.
Kaiji tensed her entire body, for the first time in weeks, her throat was naked, uncovered, bare. She could already feel the connection to her mana being restored.
Nua looked down at her possession, the fallen noble who was like a small leaf in a wafting breeze, now that the collar that bound her was gone. She tossed the old one behind her onto her bed, and asked, “Do you need a moment? You might never touch your skin there again, if you want to do it one more time, that’s alright.” Nua said, the voice of a sunbeam on a warm spring day. Her hand came out, and after a moment of hesitation, touched the formerly covered neck herself, as if to say it would be alright.
Nua’s words reached the dark purple ears, and caused them to twitch. For a moment, nothing passed between them, and Kaiji reached up to touch the formerly untouchable inches of her throat. Her fingers traced over the front like she was unsure it was there, and the moment passed.
Her hand came away and lowered to the floor again.
“Thank you...mistress.” Kaiji finally said without raising her head. “Please...”
It was a plaintive request at Nua’s feet, and her answer was to hold out her right palm.
Kaiji saw, and took it as she had many times, but never with magic intact and never with a bare throat, and kissed the giving palm with eyes wide open, until it was taken away from her.
Nua opened the back of the round bronze gift, and placed it around Kaiji’s neck. It closed around her possession, making itself like a second skin.
Kaiji swallowed and began to breath faster as her heart roared in her breast. Nua saw the way the exposed bosom moved, somehow in sync with her own, and slid the lock through the holes. She clicked it shut with a sharp snapping gesture and it was done.
Kaiji felt her returning mana rising even faster, her mistress showed her back, reaching to remove the purple tag from the old collar.
The demon-elf stared at the trusting back, raising her chin high to expose the place the tag would go. Nua did not disappoint, inserting it into its proper place and securing it tight, so that it could never come away on its own.
Kaiji kept her eyes upward, wide and unblinking afterward, until the giving palm returned, and she pressed her lips to it. “My magic is yours, mistress, use it as you will, I am yours, forever, I know you will never let me go... and I do not want you to.”
“I know, my Kaiji, I know.” Nua replied, and helped her to her feet. “Now dress yourself and see to what needs to be done.” Fury raged in her eyes for the fate of her lost lamb, and in that spirit, she took up the bone hilted knife born of distant betrayals, then secured it to her belt. “Priceless will be returned or avenged before the sun sets.”
“At once, mistress!” Kaiji all but shouted, and scurried to obey. Fear forgotten, power crackled at her fingertips as the mana surged too quickly to life and plunged her mind into a joyful euphoria akin to a long denied climax that had finally been released. “Your will, my magic.”
*Story: Life Happens