MAGE 09
By Heck



Comments to heck@heckster.co.uk

CHAPTER NINE

LIFE IN THE Magician's house carried on much as before.

To all outward appearances nothing had changed, except that Drosklyn Chaithe
no longer bothered to adopt his old man persona. Lon had the freedom of the
house and garden but, on the one occasion he had tried to leave the confines
of the perimeter, an sharp crackle of force warned him he better not try,

He was also free to continue his studies, although Chaithe no longer tutored
him. That person had become so caught up in his mystic quest that he rarely
came down from the secret room any more. It was only at mealtimes that Lon saw
him, when he sat in silent and smug contempt of his erstwhile apprentice. So
the young man pored over tome after tome of astrology, thaumaturgy, and
magicks, learning all the time and searching for something, anything, that
would indicate to him a course of action should his master succeed in
summoning the dread Shaitan.

The library itself was a dark, stuffy room, lined with tightly packed shelves
full of volume upon volume on everything from simple sleight of hand and
prestidigitation to the most difficult, complicated, and dangerous of magicks.
The reading desk, however, was positioned under a large window overlooking the
garden, where it gained the most light.

Sitting at the desk in a shaft of sunlight, Lon stared blankly at a page. He
had read the same passage over and over again, eyes not properly focussed. He
had been reading so long that his mind could take in no more and began to
wander. He was even distracted by the motes of dust dancing in the sunbeam.

Lon pushed himself back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face. He
yawned and stretched as he rose, turning to gaze out the window at the neat
gardens outside. Bees buzzed busily from flower to flower, while butterflies
danced among the buddleia. It was a fine, cloudless day, and the peaceful
vista was a pleasant respite from his studies.

No closer, he thought. I must have read nearly every book in the library, and
no clue. There must be an answer. He turned away and paced across the stone
flags. And then there's the question of Brenhya. What has he got in mind for
her? Is he going to sacrifice her as some sort of appeasement to his evil
deity? I'm not even sure as there is an evil deity, or is it his twisted mind?
Shaitan is real, I'm sure, but whether Drosklyn Chaithe can use him or syphon
his power without bringing him into the world, is less than certain.

He returned to the window and stared out again. And what about Brenhya? I'm
sure she can deal with anything Chaithe can throw at her, but it'd be better
if she didn't have to. It looks like I'm stuck here, but there's no need for
her to be trapped as well. If only there was some way to get a warning to her.

His eyes roved over the tranquil garden as he pondered his dilemma. A movement
in his peripheral vision caught his attention, and he swivelled his head to
watch the footman, Quaff, ambling down the path. The kobold walked with a
shuffling gait that, nevertheless, covered the ground quickly and efficiently.
Lon watched him idly as he reached the periphery, and took a greater interest
as he crossed the invisible barrier without impediment. It was obvious that
the field was only selectively impervious, and would apparently allow passage
without hindrance, provided that the person seeking passage was not Lon.

The apprentice resumed his seat and fingered his wispy beard. The germ of an
idea was forming in his active mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The enormous bed was cosy and warm, and Brenhya snuggled down under the acres
of goose feather filled quilt, spooning against Chthord's back. Being almost
the same height, they fit together perfectly; knee to knee, hip to hip, breast
to back.

After their frenzied bout of raw, animal sex by the fire in the Great Hall,
they had retired to the Royal Bedchamber and Chthord's soft, welcoming bed,
where they spent the night making love in slow, tender cycles. The pair had
found many ways in which to pleasure each other, and grew to know each other's
bodies intimately.

As at their first meeting, many months previously, Chthord found the
experience of sex with a woman who was his physical superior to be intensely
satisfying, and remained true to the conviction that the warrior was the
epitome of feminine appeal. There was something unexpectedly arousing, not to
mention downright sexy, to be in the arms of a woman who could, if she wished,
break him in half, but chose not to. Arousing and, somehow, comforting.

By and large, Brenhya had managed to curb her annoying tendency towards
profanity with some success.

A playful smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she blew softly on the back
of Chthord's neck, ruffling the longish black hair gently. He twitched in his
sleep, and flicked a hand across the back of his head. She blew again.

"Chthord? Are you awake?"

"Hmm?"

"I said, are you awake?"

"No".

"C'mon". She gave a girlish giggle. "Wake up. Wake up and make love to me".

"Again?"

"Again! I'm hot for you".

Chthord gave a short laugh. "Gods, woman, you're insatiable! I never knew
anyone like you. We must have made love six times ..."

"Seven".

"...seven times. Seven? Gods! Seven times! And you still want more?"

"I always f... I always want more, when it's you".

He was fully awake now - how could he not be? He even had the beginnings of an
erection. "It would be nice. But we have to get up. Don't forget, we have to
have a meeting with the others. Make a plan. Stuff like that".

"Mm. Just a quickie?" She nuzzled at the nape of his neck.

"Ah, Brenhya!" His head arched back at her touch. "The others..."

"Yes, you're right, I suppose". Her voice was languid and sleepy.

"All right, then. Up we get". Chthord threw back the quilt and made as if to
rise, but Brenhya's giggle was muffled by the pillow as she clamped him tight
to the bed with one muscular arm. He struggled briefly and pulled at the arm
with both arms, but he might as well have tried to shift a steel bar. The
muscles under his fingers were as hard as granite.

"Brenhya!"

"Oh, all right" She pretended to pout as she released him, and he left the bed
quickly, whipping the quilt from her muscled body and exposing her in her
glorious nakedness. He could not help but gasp at the sight. Raised on one
elbow, she reminded him of nothing less than a big, languorous cat; quiet and
serene, seemingly lazy, but possessed of a tremendous and explosive power that
was evident in the muscular lines of her lithe body. She was staring openly at
his semi-erect phallus.

"What a shame to waste that".

Chthord smiled and shook his head. "You're amazing!" He picked up her skirt
and halter, and threw them at her. "Come on. Up and at 'em".

It was several minutes before the two emerged into the Great Hall. Oudreya and
Gurghan were already there, sitting opposite each other at one of the long
tables, sharing a loaf of fresh bread and a piled plate of glistening rashers
of crisp bacon. Brenhya swallowed as her mouth filled with saliva at the
delicious smell, and sat next to Gurghan.

"Goddess, I'm famished. I didn't realise I was so hungry. What...?" Her two
travelling companions were looking at her in a peculiar fashion. Oudreya was
smiling broadly, her amber eyes glittering. Gurghan gave her a knowing look
over the steaming brim of his mug. "What?"

Oudreya just laughed softly and looked away. Gurghan suddenly became
fascinated by the piece of bacon between his thick fingers. Chthord leaned
close and whispered in her ear.

"They know what we've been doing all night".

"I'm not surprised", Brenhya smiled back unashamedly. "We weren't exactly
discreet". She looked the others squarely in the eye. "I'm going to get myself
outside of some of this bacon, then we're going to make plans. Is that clear?"

"Brenyar!" Gurghan roared. "You're not swearing!"

"Hey!", Chthord frowned. "No need to shout!"

"It's all right", Brenhya said. "He's not shouting. It's just his normal
speaking voice. He always sounds as if he's talking to someone half a league
away". She picked up a piece of bacon, broke off a hunk of bread, and took a
big mouthful. "Isn't that right, Gurghan?"

"Shouting?! Gurghan iss not shouting! What do you mean, shouting?! When
Gurghan shouts, you will damn' well know it! Your majesty!"

"OK, OK". Chthord held up placating hands. "He's right, though", he said to
Brenhya. "You're not cursing any more".

Brenhya swallowed her food before replying. "I want to, believe me. The words
are coming up in my mind all the time. But I'm convinced that something is
trying to make me do it. I resent that, so I'm not giving in to it".

"Well said". Oudreya leaned across the table and laid a warm hand on Brenhya's
forearm. "I get the feeling that, if you put your mind to something, it gets
done".

Brenhya patted her hand. "Generally. Mmm, this bacon is fabulous".

"They raise the best pigs around here ..." Oudreya clapped a hand to her mouth
as she realised what she had said. "...or so I hear".

"Thiss iss too strange for Gurghan!" The big man stuffed a whole chunk of
bread and two rashers of bacon into his broad mouth, and wiped his greasy
hands on his furs. He spoke around the wad of food, and Chthord and Oudreya
leaned back to avoid the spray of crumbs. "Too many coincidences! The
exploding thugs at the inn! The swearing! The giant! Meeting the were-tiger on
the road! Ow!" He glared at Oudreya. "Why do you kick me?!"

Oudreya glared back, and her face clouded as Chthord spoke.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!", the king butted in. "Were-tiger? What's all this about a
were-tiger? In my country?"

Brenhya gave Oudreya a sympathetic glance that said, we'll have to tell him.
"Were-tigress, actually", she said to Chthord with a meaningful look at
Oudreya. The king began to move away. "But don't worry", she reassured him.
"She's OK. She'll be a big help to us. I'm sure. Go on, Gurghan".

"Well, I woss just saying! All theese things! Smells like supernatural, to me!
Gurghan hates supernatural!"

"So you keep saying", Brenhya nodded. "But I'm inclined to agree. What
happened to the two thugs was definitely out of the ordinary. Oudreya keeps
out of the way of people, yet she was compelled to attack me ..."

"She attacked you?" Chthord was full of concern.

"Yes. Shush a minute. Then the giant ...why are you laughing, Oudreya?"

"Sorry. It's just, I never thought I'd ever hear anyone say 'shush' to a
king".

"Hmm. Anyway. The giant appears from nowhere, and the fight in the snow took
all of two hours, yet I was back here in less than a minute. And the cursing.
I definitely feel as if my head is being manipulated".

Chthord took her hand and squeezed it gently. "It's almost as if you're being
tested, somehow".

"Yes! That's it!" Brenhya was struck by the sudden revelation and squeezed
back, causing Chthord to wince visibly. "I'm being tested! Chthord, I'm sorry
if this doesn't fit in with your perceptions, but this was never about you, or
your country. For some reason, I'm being tested or assessed for something, and
there has to be somebody, or some thing, behind it. If only we knew what".

"I'd agree", Chthord said. "And I don't know whether to be relieved for my
country, or dismayed for you".

"You will not be alone!" Gurghan was stalwart in his support.

"That goes for me, too", Oudreya smiled.

Brenhya out an arm round Gurghan's meaty shoulders, and reached across to take
Oudreya's hand. "I hoped you'd say that". She smiled at Chthord. "Isn't it
good to have friends?"

The king could not meet her gaze. "Brenhya, there's nothing I'd like more than
to come with you". Regret was real in his voice, as his gesture encompassed
all around him. "But all this ..."

"Hey, hey. I know. You're a king, now. You're first duty has to be to your
country and your subjects. I understand. We understand".

Oudreya nodded her agreement. Gurghan looked less sure, but nodded anyway.

"Thank you". Chthord rose from the table and went to lean against one of the
enormous wooden pillars that supported the roof trees. "But I won't stand idly
by, in all this. Anything you need, anything at all. Supplies, weapons,
transport. You have only to ask. It's yours".

"So!", Gurghan bellowed. "That iss settled, then! What do we do next!?"

"I don't know much about these things", Oudreya said to him. "But it seems to
me that all we know is that someone is testing you for something. Seems to be
finding out about Brenhya's limits. But we don't know why, or who, or where,
or ...anything".

"You just about have it in a nutshell, there", Brenhya replied. "Let's bounce
some ideas around. First, why am I being tested?"

"They seem to have tried most of your skills", Chthord said, still leaning on
the pillar. "Reactions, battle skills, self control, and so on. Looks to me
it's your achievements as a warrior they're interested in".

"Agreed". Brenhya took a sip of her cooling tea. "But that still doesn't tell
us why".

"Perhaps it iss that they have a quest in mind for you! Maybe they want you to
do something for them!"

"Or to use you for something", Oudreya mused. "It looks like it's all your
warrior skills they're after. Perhaps they want to channel your energy, or
steal your strength, or turn you to evil ways. I'm just talking off the top of
my head, here. You can tell me to shut up any time".

"No, that's the kind of talking we want", Brenhya said. "Any ideas, people, no
matter how strange they sound". She sighed. "Besides, whoever 'they' are, I'm
getting bored with them messing me around. I wonder if they have any more
'tests' planned?"

"Gurghan also wonders just who 'they' are!"

The statement caused them all to fall silent, lost in thought for a minute.
The idea of magical or supernatural involvement gave them all pause. Even
Oudreya, who was a supernatural creature in her own right, was muted for a
while.

Brenhya knew frustration. She had felt it on a number of occasions in her
life, always when there was a lull or an obstruction in the action. She did
not go looking for trouble, but when it came she preferred to meet it head on.
So while she understood the need for planning and discussion, she would much
rather be on the move, or dealing with the situation at hand.

"The question of who", she said, breaking the silence, "can wait. We don't
need to know why, yet, either. The first thing we need to know is where 'they'
are. Then we can talk about what to do about it".

"That iss more like it! The quicker we decide..."

Gurghan was interrupted by a crash as the outer door was smashed back to hang
drunkenly on its hinges.

"Get down!", Brenhya yelled, throwing herself flat as a blinding glare flooded
the hall. It hardly subsided when a brilliant trident of horizontal lightning
stabbed across the floor, leaving a coruscating trail. The fire in the hearth
exploded in a shower of sparks as the lightning passed through it. The
incandescent bolt streaked on, faster than the eye, to strike at the base of
the pillar Chthord leaned on. He was thrown flat on his face by the impact,
and the pillar split across with an ominous crack.

Brenhya was on her feet in an instant.

"Chthord!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was only a slim volume, but even so the book was quite hard to find. He
knew he had seen it, had skimmed through it more than once in his efforts to
find a solution to the Chaithe problem. He thought he knew exactly where to
find it, but nonetheless it took the better part of an hour to locate it.

Placing the book on the desk, Lon settled himself into the hard chair. He
flipped through the book until he found the section he was looking for, and
began to read.

It took some time to assimilate the knowledge he needed, and it was nearly
noon by the time he had finished his studies. He had just closed the book and
was returning it to its place on the shelves, when Quaff came to call him in
for lunch.

Drosklyn Chaithe did not appear for the midday meal, which did not disappoint
Lon, and the apprentice hurriedly consumed the simple but tasty fare. He left
the table in haste, with a quick glance at the kobold. In the way of his kind,
Quaff was totally uninterested in the comings and goings of the humans in the
household.

Keeping an eye out for the wizard, Lon made his stealthy way to the laboratory
where he quickly found what he needed; a small glass jar with a sealable lid.
He placed the jar on the workbench, and went to hunt among the various exotic
herbs, ingredients, and talismans.

"Mandrake root", he said to himself, ticking off his mental checklist. "Bella
Donna, snake bile, and, er ...ah, here it is. Sharkskin denticles".

He quickly assembled his booty in the correct proportions on the bench, and
applied a candle to them. The concoction readily caught, and burned with a
bright green flame. Lon set a three-legged trivet over the flame, and inverted
the open jar atop it so the pungent fumes filled it. He closed his eyes and
focussed his attention, as the book instructed, on Brenhya. He pictured her
clearly in his mind as he began an arcane incantation, and made complicated
passes over the jar with both hands.

The ritual complete, he grasped the now hot jar with a thick cloth and turned
it over, whispering briefly into it, swiftly replacing the lid afterward. He
fastened the lid firmly in place with its leather thongs, and wrapped it in
waxed cloth which he secured with pieces of twine.

Tucking his precious prize under his arm, he went in search of Quaff. The
kolbold, he knew, would do as he was instructed without question, and would
never mention it unless specifically interrogated. Lon was confident that
Drosklyn Chaithe was ignorant of his plan.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chthord was stunned by his sudden contact with the compacted earthen floor. He
groaned groggily as he felt a firm grip on his collar and belt. Without
ceremony, Brenhya hauled the king from the floor and passed him to Gurghan.

"Get him out of here", she ordered. "Go! All of you!"

The pillar gave another groaning creak, and small pieces of thatch began to
rain down from the roof.. The jagged break at its base began to widen as it
began, very gradually, to topple. Brenhya glanced upwards, and made a very
swift decision.

Moving with almost superhuman speed, she rushed to the pillar and wrapped her
long arms around it. She was just able to encircle it and hook her strong
fingertips together. Bracing her powerful legs wide, she exerted her
tremendous strength to keep the pillar, and thus the entire hall, from
collapsing.

Oudreya and Gurghan, with the dazed king over his shoulder, stopped in the
ruined doorway and watched, open-mouthed, as the splendid muscles of Brenhya's
back coiled and bunched under her smooth skin. Her arms tensed and became
steel hard, magnificent muscles standing out in relief, as she supported the
enormous weight. Her whole body was itself a pillar of pure power.

Brenhya shot a glance over her shoulder. "Get out! I can't hold this fucking
thing up all day!" In the stress of the moment, she forgot not to curse.

Her shout was enough to stir her friends into action. They jumped through the
door and clear of the building.

Brenhya now found herself in something of a dilemma. The only thing preventing
the hall from collapsing was her own great strength. She had great confidence
in that strength, and it had never let her down in the past, yet she knew she
could not hold up a whole palace forever. But if she let go, the entire thing
would collapse and she may be buried under tons of timbers and thatch. Curses
and obscenities sprang to her lips, and she squeezed them together to avoid
exploding in a stream of expletives and invective.

The door was more than twenty feet away. In addition, the sparks from the fire
had been smouldering in the thatch, and tiny blossoms of flame were beginning
to show. Wisps of smoke extended ethereal tendrils, and the acrid smell
tickled Brenhya's sensitive nostrils. From bitter experience, she knew it
would only be a matter of seconds before the entire roof would go up in a
blazing inferno.

She decided that her only choice was to make a dash for the door. Although she
moved with great speed, it seemed to her that everything happened in slow
time, as if she were running through aspic. She hurdled the fire, and felt as
though she was in the air for an age. She heard the great crack that seemed to
go on forever, heralding the collapse of the hall, as the roof trees
splintered under the weight of the pillar that now swung free. Flame began to
lick around her racing body. Halfway to the door, she heard Gurghan's bellow
of "Brenyar!", long and drawn out. Pieces of burning thatch seemed to float
down around her, as she launched herself in a low, flat dive that carried her
through the door. She landed in a somersault that brought her to her feet,
still running.

"Get back!", she yelled to her friends, who were beginning to move to her aid.
Without breaking stride, she snatched up the king from where Gurghan had laid
him, and they all sprinted well away from the palace before turning to watch
its demise.

Flames sprang from the thatch, blazing fiercely. Then slowly, almost neatly,
the Great Hall folded in on itself and collapsed like a house of cards,
raising a great plume of dust and smoke. Brenhya permitted herself one last
expletive.

"Shit!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bent over the swirling, murky waters of his scrying bowl, Drosklyn Chaithe
watched events with fascination. As the scenario played out, he rubbed his
hands together and let go a low chuckle.

"Excellent!"