THE CHAINED GIFT VI: The seeds start to sprout

Maede Killien's heir! At last! Tonight the moon shines for Elore'il only!

Many shouts of jubilation like this one arrived with the fallen leaves to the First Circle House when, early in autumn, Dame Corail was said to be with child. Lord Killien, his hope of having children with his wife almost lost, received the news with great satisfaction, and turned into five the three traditional days of celebrations that usually accompanied them. The Maeda, with a serene smile on her pale face, sat besides her husband and received their courtiers' congratulations during the festival days; as soon as they were over, she shut herself in her private chambers to rest.

On a rainy afternoon she summoned Caradhar, breaking her semi-confinement. She received him in a private room; her attire, several layers of fabric, thin as a spider web, on top of a tunic embroidered in silver, was hanging as a cascade of flounces over the couch on which she was leaning down; her red hair, loose over her shoulders, shone under the light of the fireplace; she was indeed exquisite.

The young elf, a bit intimidated, went there and sat besides her, because there was no other seat available.

'Congratulations, Corail,' he told her, not knowing what else to say.

'Thank you, my dear,' she answered with satisfaction. 'It seems a lucky star sparkled over me, after all.'

'Yes.' He pondered. 'Although you said you couldn't have more children.'

'The gods have been generous.' She laughed softly, placing a hand on her son's side. 'I hope you won't be jealous in the least bit: my feelings for my precious Caradhar are right the same...

'No.' He interrupted her. 'I was thinking that, now that things have changed and your position in the House is safe, you may have changed your mind.'

'Change my mind?' Corail's voice became softer and sharper at the same time. He stared at her eyes, half close, reflecting the fire; it was like peaking through the window of a house, perfectly safe-looking from the outside, but with the first flames of an all-devouring fire spreading inside. 'Sometimes, in the loneliness of my bed, while Killien locks himself in his bedroom to enjoy himself with his sluts, I think how comforting it would be to have you at my side, and hold you; but even that is denied to me, because if he ever found out that you are my son, I don't know what he could do... Although we already know the cruelty he is capable of, when you were forced... to Nestro... I know how much he meant to you.'

The lady held his face with both hands; she felt his tension as she pronounced the name of the late weapon master, though she misinterpreted the reason.

'I can't even get closer to Lord Killien,' he complained. 'I tried. I have guards checking on me the whole day, but he never summons me.'

'Then we shall keep trying... Don't worry: we will have some help very soon. Since Nestro has been taken away from us, I will manage to bring another ally; you will recognise them because they will show you a Llia'res crest.' In the young elf's mind, Darial's face appeared. 'You will have to be very cautious, my son,' she added, holding him with tenderness. 'Would you like to share some refreshments with me?'

'I can't; I think I have some things to do.'

She smiled, yet a bit disappointed. A little later, while Caradhar was leaving the place, he discovered the silhouette of his mother's mute servant, observing him from the doorway arch. He was about to turn to her when the Maeda's severe voice ordered her to return inside. The girl quickly disappeared, as if she had never been there.

The red-haired elf walked in the opposite direction through the stone corridors that had led him to Dame Corail's chambers. They came out into a peristyle; despite the heavy rain, he avoided the gallery and crossed the court, ignoring the storm. He was concentrated, meditating about the conversation he had with his mother.

Somehow, his mind pushed him in the direction she was indicating; not in an impulsive way, but methodical and calmed, as his own character was. Because it was fair that Lord Killien disappeared; he had wielded the sword that killed Nestro, but the orders were the Maede's. Where it not for that, the weapon master would still be alive; he had never wanted him dead.

It wasn't a question of feelings, but justice.

In the end he decided that, if the Maede was out of his reach for now, he could try and approach the next most powerful person that he knew in the House.

Later, when Darial opened his door, he faced a soaked Caradhar, his red hair stuck to his face, and his clothes abundantly dripping on the small rug by the doorway. The gifted removed his doublet and his shirt; they fell on the puddle that was forming around him.

Darial didn't mind; in fact, he smiled broadly, almost smacking his lips: it was the first time that his prey had come to him on his own initiative. His slim fingers stroked the elf's chin, who intensely stared at him with those eyes like fire, yet always so cold.

'Did you miss me, Adhar? he asked, with sticky-sweet voice.

'And you, Darial? Did you miss me?'

'My dear boy: I always miss you... If I could, I'd keep you always with me, here, in my room.' He leant down to his ear, while starting to untie the strings of his breeches. 'As I used to do when you were a kid, do you remember? Sometimes I miss those old, good times; but,' with a hard pull, he uncovered the elf's groin and his sex at rest; his hand slipped along the white flesh until his favourite place between the firm buttocks, 'if I can have you like this, why should I miss them?' His middle finger invaded the tunnel without niceties; Caradhar bit the inner side of his lip, trying not to make a sound. 'Oh, yes... So delightfully narrow as ever... I can't wait until I enter with something better than my hands...' the breath at his prey's ear became heavier. 'Strip and jump in the bed...'

The gifted obeyed. Darial rummaged around in his drawers and took out some thin leather straps; his companion didn't even blink: he was too used to them. The alchemist tied up his wrists, made him lift his arms and fastened them to the canopy of the bed.

Caradhar swallowed. He detested to be forced to ride Darial; he detested to see himself exposed in such an obvious way, and having to move his own hips to please him...

'By Therendas... Behold such a nice body, if I ever saw one,' said the alchemist, stroking his well-defined chest.

He lay on the bed and penetrated him without further ado, in that painful, brutal way that had become his trademark. Caradhar, also accustomed to it, barely shuddered; he preferred it one thousand times, rather than having to stand that loathed position, while the blonde elf displayed that expression of perverted enjoyment under him.

'Why am I here?'

It was almost dawn; Caradhar, lying on his side, his cheek resting on the back of his hand, had been gazing for a while at the new light, spilling through the translucent glass of the window. When he noticed Darial stirring besides him, he simply formulated his question. The alchemist was already used to his abruptness, and at any other time he would have retorted with a mischievous comment. But that morning he was in a great mood; the blond elf contemplated his companion's bare back for a moment, surrounded his waist with both arms and answered to his ear, with a smile:

'To please me.'

'No; I mean why I am in House Elore'il.'

'Isn't that obvious?' Darial snorted. 'You have the Gift; Dame Corail graciously brought you from House Llia'res and graciously offered you to the Maede. Nobody rejects such a present. Now Lord Killien has four gifted at his service; one is quite mature, and the other two are just kids... But apart from the Palace of the Forty-nine Moons, no other House can boast of having more than us. You are a very valuable acquisition, my young Adhar.'

'But even if I completed my training and prepared myself thoroughly to be even more useful than them, the Maede never sends for me. What am I good for?'

'Don't tell me you are anxious to run towards somebody who can force you to cut your own throat if he feels like it...'Darial laughed hard. 'Adhar, Adhar, don't be naive. You may be a very valuable present, but still a poisonous one.' The young elf turned onto his side to face the alchemist, frowning a bit. 'You weren't born in this House, you belong to Llia'res, and though you swore allegiance to Elore'il, the Maede can't be sure of where your loyalty lies. He will keep you close and guarded, he will use you if convenient, but nothing else. Moreover, don't tell me you never noticed his antagonism with Dame Corail. Why do you think he made you kill that weapon master? He knew well that he was loyal to her, something he will never forgive. Now the situation calmed down, as the Maeda was able to conceive. Who knows? Maybe in some time, with a secure heir, the tension between them will disappear, your position will change and you will become more dear to your Lord... But for now, I will be the only one enjoying your company,' he added, smiling with deviousness.

'But you were in Llia'res as well. How did you get your actual position?'

'I am born in Elore'il,' declared the questioned one, haughtily. 'Both Houses have been allies for years, and as you know, it's not uncommon that alchemists complete their formation in other laboratories. I didn't want to leave, but they gave me no choice... Well, you see, every cloud has a silver lining: my stay there... I enjoyed it very much. I only regretted to leave one thing behind, and I recovered it.' He held Caradhar's chin and drew him towards himself. 'And now, before I let you go, how about you use your little head for something really important?'

***

During the following days, Caradhar returned to his own room at dawn. It was clear for him that Darial couldn't be the ally his mother spoke about. In a way, he felt relieved.

One of those mornings it became impossible for him to resist the temptation of taking a nap. He undressed and lay down; when he was about to fall asleep, an unknown voice said, very close to his ear:

'It's rare, to see you alone on a bed.'

Caradhar opened his eyes and jumped like a spring, searching for the dagger he always kept besides his bed... only to discover that it was gone. On the other side a figure was standing: slender, dressed in black, his face partially covered by a hood. He was playing with Caradhar's dagger, and on the lower half of his face, a smile was displayed.

'Looking for this? I borrowed it. Am taking no risk of having you slitting my throat, cause my skin doesn't heal as nicely as yours.' The gifted looked around, trying to remember where he had left his sword, and the hooded figure snorted. 'Relax, boy; if I'd wanted to nail you to the mattress, I'd have done it already.'

'Who are you? asked the young elf, scrutinising the intruder's face.

'I'm no enemy.' The hooded one fished a silver badge out of his clothes and showed it: Llia'res crest. Caradhar relaxed slightly: so, this would be the ally his mother mentioned. 'I've been watching you for a couple of days; well, you, and also that alchemist. As he always has his paws on top of you, it's impossible not to notice him. His tastes are very gross, y'know. Though, of course, you're very obliging...

'How did you slip in here?' interrupted the gifted. 'And in Darial's room? Are you making fun of me? This is full of guards.'

'I'm good, uh?' The hooded one chuckled and placed the dagger on a table, out of his companion's reach. 'The Dame personally asked for me, and I already served her well a couple of times.'

'Are you an assassin?'

'No...Yuck! Do you think I'm Ditch fodder? You don't need to make so many questions. I'm here to watch your back, and that should be enough... Too bad I'm late: it seems you already have someone taking care of that... all the time.'

'Do you have to spy me in bed also?' The young elf started to lose his temper: he wasn't prudish, but he didn't particularly like the idea of being seen with Darial.

'In bed, in the baths... Wherever.' The stranger grinned, showing two rows of perfect teeth, with very sharp canines. 'I can move around the whole House... More freely than you, if I fancy it. Like a shadow...'

'You are Darshi'nai... Shadow...'

Caradhar understood. The Darshi'nai, the Shadow, were a controversial social class in Argailias. They weren't considered criminals, strictly speaking (some of them were said to belong to nobility), as assassins were, but the nature of his activities forced them to live outside the law and society. They were the best spies, and every respectable House made use of their own agents. However, should they be captured, the could only expect a summary and discreet execution, either by their captors or by their allies: a failed Shadow wasn't worthy of the name. Nor of being alive.

'What's your name?' Caradhar asked finally.

'The less you know about me, the better.' The spy raised the right corner of his mouth and put a gloved finger to his lips. He approached a corner of the bed, sat on it, and invited the red-haired elf to do the same on the opposite one.

'So, you know what I do in every moment and I can't even know your name? Will you take off your hood at least?' Caradhar studied his companion; he was taller than himself, and young, given his voice and build. His way of speaking was not the usual among the upper class. For the rest, he was a mystery.

'What for? You'll spot me right away: I'll be the guy in black whispering from the corner. But I can't risk being still for too long, so let's move on to more important things. I guess you'll want me to take a look at the Maede's chambers, right?'

'Can you do that?' asked the young gifted, unable to avoid showing admiration. 'And how can you be sure that he doesn't have his own Shadow to protect him?'

'Well, I'll find out soon, or be slashed while trying. Meanwhile, keep dragging everything out of Darial. Not that I envy your methods but they're effective. Everybody knows the bastard's a perv, and you managed to have him wrapped around your finger. Given your conversations I caught that your friendship goes way back, eh?' The spy smiled deviously. 'No worries, if we're successful, I'll myself help you to castrate him, once he's of no more use.'

'I don't want you to spy on me again; with whom I go to bed or how I do it is my own business,' demanded Caradhar, his voice sharp as a razor. 'Unless you are another... perv who enjoys himself looking.'

'Enjoy myself? You could do better.' The hooded elf stood up with a cat-like movement and headed to the door, where he waited for some seconds, listening. 'In bed, your face had the same lack of enthusiasm than your crotch.' The redhead was going to retort, but got distracted by catching on the fly something the spy had thrown to him; when he opened his hand, he saw it was Llia'res silver crest. 'You better get rid of that: I mustn't be nailed with it, and frankly, you neither.'

This said, the stranger slipped out of the room. A moment later, Caradhar went out to inspect the corridor: all was calm.

 

 

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