THE CHAINED GIFT VIII: We reap what we sow

Several weeks passed. As Dame Corail's womb became more and more prominent, her son's patience wore thinner and thinner, because his efforts to slip in the laboratory didn't bear any fruit. To make matters worse, Darial seemed more busy and absent than ever. 'To ingratiate myself with the witch,' he explained. The boy was starting to wonder if he had put his foot in it and somehow damage the alchemist's inclination towards him, when he was summoned again one evening, with as much passion as possible.

In the early morning somebody banged Darial's door. The elf left the bed and found some guards at the entrance. After exchanging agitated whispers, he returned to Caradhar, with an expressionless face.

'Get dressed, because you have to come with me now.' He obeyed, while looking questioningly at his companion, who added: 'They just found the Grand Alchemist; dead, or so it seems.'

Caradhar's second visit to the laboratory didn't report him any benefit, but allowed him to confirm that the powerful female elf he had just briefly seen was dead indeed. They concluded that inhalation of toxic vapour had been the cause; how an experienced alchemist like her could have committed such a mistake remained shrouded in mystery, and foul play wasn't discarded. One thing was certain: there was nothing the gifted's amazing blood could do for her body, already cold.

Darial had to report the tragedy to the Maede. He remained away until well into the night. Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Elore'il was the usual: no House would hurry up to make public the loss of its Grand Alchemist. The deceased wouldn't have a sumptuous funeral.

To say that Lord Killien was furious was an understatement; he promised a long, painful death to the culprit, if there had been one. The guard was intensified, and rumours of Darshi'nai watching the House spread. During the following days, Caradhar had no contact with his particular Shadow; on the other hand, he could finally gain access to the laboratory, since Darial had been promoted to the rank of Grand Alchemist. Rumour had it the elf lacked the skills to hold such a high position yet, as the right hand of the deceased, he was the only viable option for the time being. With scarcely concealed pride, and breaking the rules, he showed his new domains to a very interested Caradhar, who wandered around, watching everything. His guide allowed him to do so, pouring himself a glass of the best wine from his predecessor's private cellar, until he ran out of patience, approached the gifted from behind, held his waist and made him turn his head.

'Come on, come on... What does a young elf like you find so interesting here? Shouldn't you be celebrating with me, or do you find it amusing, to make me feel jealous of a room? As an alchemist, I've acquired one of the most coveted positions in Argailias; truth is, from now on I'll be confined in the House most of the time,' he said, gently stroking his companion's lips with his thumb, 'and I'll need you by my side to keep me company...' He slowly made him drink from his glass; then pressed his own lips on Caradhar's, and tasted him. 'Ah... Don't you find it delicious?'

'I guess so...'

Darial chuckled and finished the rest of the wine. He pushed the young elf against the nearest table, made him sit on it and placed himself between his separated legs.

'I confess I can't bring myself to understand you, Caradhar. So young, and yet sometimes you behave as an old elf, tired of life pleasures. But one way or another I'll manage to melt all that ice inside you.' He started to untie the cords that fastened the redhead's shirt, kissing with passion each portion of uncovered skin. 'One way or another...'

Now that he was sitting on his predecessor's throne, Darial could feel filled with pride. Soon, everything he desired would be his. He had exposed himself to a great risk, but it was certainly worthwhile.

***

In the end the Shadow reappeared. He surprised Caradhar one day in his room, when he was already wondering if he would ever see the spy again.

'Hard times,' he said as a greeting, from his usual spot on the gifted's bed. 'Hi, Adhar. I know you missed me, but that business with the asphyxiated witch kicked up a racket, and dropping into here wasn't safe.' Caradhar sat on the other extreme and untied his boots. 'Hey, you didn't kill her yourself, right?'

The elf stopped to stare at his black-clothed visitor, knitting his eyebrows, as if he couldn't understand his words. After some seconds he answered:

'No. My count of dead amounts to one person so far.'

'Alright... But I see you aren't discarding a future increase.' The gifted made himself comfortable on the mattress, crossing his legs. 'And tell me, are you still interested in sneaking into the Maede's bedroom?'

'Yes. Could you finally sort it out?'

'I could... But you'll have to put me in the picture of what you want to do. And it's hard enough for a Shadow to drag himself there, so imagine, for an eye-catching guy like you. I can't let you risk my neck, nor yours.'

'I have an idea... But I can't tell you anything for now. Besides, I need some time to solve some business, now that I have the chance to enter the lab.'

'I'd take my hat off to you: the most impenetrable place in House Elore'il...'

'I'd like some soporific; a strong one.'

'Wow now I'm curious... Can't you tell me anything else?'

'... No.'

Under his dark hood, the spy stared intensely at the young elf, almost an adolescent, sitting there, relaxed, with his back to him, undressing without shame, and thinking up apparently suicidal plans for which he couldn't reproach anything so far. The Grand Alchemist's death had been too convenient to be coincidental... He smiled, fished in his belt and threw a small sachet besides Caradhar.

'A pinch's enough to put a living being out; one whose build is... let's say, like the alchemist?'

He grinned while the other elf was taking the sachet and examining it. Quickly and silently he moved to his back, so close that he could inhale the scent of his long mane, red as the plumage of a cardinal. He had heard the gifted elves smelled very nice... He buried his nose inside as much as he dared, and had to admit the rumour was true... at least, about that particular one. He closed his eyes for one second and leant over a bit more...

'You shouldn't be so unwary as to share a bed with someone like me... Or are you trying to make me horny on purpose?' the Shadow whispered, his voice vibrating with a note of desire. Caradhar turned around at once, trying to take off the hood that hid his companion's face; of course, he moved too slowly for the Darshi'nai, who had already reached the door, smirking.

'Don't know why, but my guts tell me to trust you, kid. Well, let's see what you can do...'

The occasion to use the drug didn't take long. Those nights he was forced to work until late, Darial, as many alchemists, used to have a snooze in his working place; Caradhar managed to be allowed to stay. It wasn't difficult for him to create the convenient mood, at midnight, and slip the substance into the elf's glass; once the latter fell asleep, the young one could thoroughly search the laboratory without being disturbed.

He had previously studied the place as much as possible in his scarce occasions there, so he walked straight to the most probable hiding places. Upon discovering a locked cabinet he had the inspiration to go back to the couch on which the alchemist was sleeping and search his clothes. He obtained a silver ring with several keys.

Once it was open, the examination of the cabinet didn't bear any fruit. He pressed the walls, slipped his hand along the underside of the shelves, and in the end surrendered, continuing the scrutiny somewhere else.

And almost by sheer coincidence he discovered a panel, looking like nailed to the wall and with a hook to hang notes, that could slide along two iron guides, and revealed a metal door with a complicated lock; the place was so obvious that it would have never caught his attention. He tried until he found the right key; when he opened the door, he found a compartment with metal boxes bearing the Grand Alchemist's coat of arms, identical to the small chest he has obtained in Ummankor. All of them contained different substances but one, which carried a phial full of golden liquid between layers of cotton. On the bottom of the box there was a folded scroll, covered in words, signs and small diagrams, unknown to him. He unfolded it over a table and, using a blank one, copied it with as much care as possible. Then he put it back in its place, and was about to close the little chest when curiosity got the best of him and made it take the phial out, holding it up. He opened it with caution and put it under his nose; as expected, nothing happened. He was tempted to drinking a sip, but decided it was too risky and would arise Darial's suspicions; and yet, he was almost sure that was the source of Lord Killien's strange power.

Taking good care of leaving everything as he had found it, he hid his copy of the scroll in a safe spot, returned the keys to its owner and lay down besides him.

***

Word was out that Dame Corail's labour pains had started, and she was locked into the Birth Ward along with the Chief Surgeon and her ladies-in-waiting. Throughout the day the House was on tenterhooks, awaiting for news.

In the late afternoon, jubilation filled the Elore'il domain: the Maeda had given birth a healthy male; the Chief Surgeon had presented him to to Lord Killien, who had given him his blessing, very satisfied: the child was now, officially, the heir of House Elore'il.

Caradhar shut himself up in his room, because he had the feeling that a visitor would come. And he wasn't wrong: the Shadow appeared in the evening, when everybody was celebrating the event.

'If you're sure of what you do, tonight is the best moment. They'll all be pissed in no time. I can neutralise the guards and escorts, but you know I can't move a finger against the Maede. So, I repeat to you, how will you manage to deal with him?'

'The other day you said you trusted me.'

'... To hell with you! grumbled the exasperated Shadow. 'Get ready; I'll give you a signal when the way's clear.' Before disappearing, he added: 'And don't you dare to get yourself killed!'

After the dim of the celebrations, as expected, most of the House dwellers fell into a deep sleep caused by wine. Caradhar found no problems to arrive to the wing with the Maede's chambers, walk along the corridors with care and reach the sturdy wooden doors. Mysteriously, the guards were asleep... A dark figure appeared, taking care not to startle the young elf.

'We made sure everyone's asleep,' the figure whispered, with the Shadow's unmistakeable voice. We?, the gifted's brain unconsciously registered; but he was concentrating on the task ahead of him. 'You know I can't get in there...'

Caradhar nodded. He went through the doors, felt his way around the antechamber and slipped in Lord Killien's room.

Thanks to the moonlight he could make out some details of the impressive place. It was octagonal shaped, and on the walls alternated wonderful large windows, where a multitude of coloured glasses formed patterns in red, grey, black, white and silver, with huge tapestries, whose silver threads, woven into the designs, dimly gleamed in the light of the white disc. In the centre of the room, the most enormous bed he had ever seen, flanked by four columns of carved wood, and surrounded by transparent chiffon curtains, was literally buried by a mountain of rich and soft fabrics. To its feet, in a little bed, a small figure, almost a child, was soundly asleep, although the elf couldn't tell if the child was a boy or a girl. He tiptoed towards the bed and watched the sleepers.

Through the transparent fabric three figures were visible. Besides Lord Killien two female elves rested. One of them was a little girl; Caradhar reckoned she had to be the sister of the young elf sleeping in the small bed, the couple of gifted twins who served the Maede. The other one was a voluptuous young female, with a halo formed by her own dark curly mane, in which the little girl had her fingers entwined. The elf watched her silhouette, just outlined by the silvery light, and listened for several minutes, trying to detect any unusual sound in the silence. Nothing. Then he walked towards the master of the House and took a dagger out of his clothes.

Lord Killien's self-preservation instinct woke him up at once; when he saw the unknown figure standing in front of him, he didn't panic, but reacted in time and commanded 'Stop!' while trying to sit up. Under normal circumstances, nobody could have approached him and tried to attack him, nor would have been capable of moving upon listening to his command.

Under normal circumstances.

Caradhar leapt on the noble, astride, trapping his arms with the legs and covering his mouth with his free hand. Lord Killien squirmed; he managed to get rid of his captor. Just for one second he forgot he had to shout; he was unable to understand how could somebody ignore his commanding voice. His crazed mind kept pondering, despite the chaos, and wondered then why his bed companions didn't scream for help. And finally, he felt the steel point pressing against his neck and froze under that figure that he eventually recognised.

'You...' managed to pronounce the Maede. 'How is this possible?'

Caradhar was experiencing a déjà vu: he had already lived that scene, in which a man at his feet, his weapon pointing at his throat, was looking at him with anxious eyes. He leant over to his prey, slowly: he wanted to gaze deeply at him; he wanted to check if those eyes reminded him of Nestro's. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in them, for a instant that seemed eternal.

He felt nothing special.

The elf pushed his blade into Killien's throat and waited for him to stop shaking; once he lay motionless, he still waited, putting his ear to his victims' still chest. No heartbeat.

He jumped down the bed, looked around and checked if the rest of the occupants in the room remained asleep; then slid his dagger along the sheets to wipe it clean it and rushed out.

Next to the end of the corridor through which he had arrived, when he thought he was safe, an arm appeared from the shadows and held him by his forehead before he could react; he felt the bite of a blade into his flesh, and the warm moisture of his own blood, running down his neck... Then, a stifled groan, and the arm that was holding him lost its grip.

He turned around, covering his deep wound with one hand, to discover a Shadow's body still falling to the floor; at his back, a second hooded one was wielding a bloody knife, that disappeared inside the black clothes in no time. He could not tell if his ally was one of them... But the one standing was undoubtedly taller; the hooded figure moved his index finger to his own nose, tapped it twice and raised the right corner of his lips in a half-smile... Then he pointed at the exit and disappeared.

Caradhar followed his example. He ran to his room, stopping just a second to get rid of the anonymous dagger in a place where it would be unlikely to be found.

Back in his bedroom, and having disposed of any signs of his night adventure, the gifted lay on his bed; the wound on his neck had been healed at once, but he couldn't sleep; he kept wondering who was that unknown Shadow and whom had he killed: maybe his ally so far, after deciding to betray him? And, if that was the case, why?

His head bubbled with contradictory ideas. But later he heard a whisper, and when he turned to the noise, he found the familiar figure in black, sitting besides him without saying a word; Caradhar could see the lower part of his face: it was covered in dry blood, the result of a blow that had slashed his lip. He frowned, unable to understand; finally, the Shadow spoke.

'There was one left. I thought I had them all neutralised, after drugging the guards and the rest, but there was one left. If my neidokesh hadn't been fast...'

'Your... what?'

'My mentor; my master; the one that makes me taste my own blood.' He smiled half-heartedly. 'I guess I deserve it. But, listen, how did you...?'

The spy shut up abruptly and pricked up his ear. Then he jumped to the window.

'Shit! I hear voices, I've been too slow. Just wanted to tell you that... Fuck!'

He didn't dare to continue, and disappeared into the night. Caradhar ran and leant out of the window, but couldn't make out anything in the darkness.

It was true: there were voices outside. He waited for the noise to increase and then he went out, joining the arising clamour.

It was inconceivable: the Maede had been murdered. And yet, it was a fact. His counsellors, on the verge of hysteria, knocked on the Maeda's door looking, paradoxically, for advice. 'I just gave birth and I just lost my husband: What else do you expect from me? You know well that I must see to my Lord's funeral; in the meanwhile, be understanding and consider that House Elore'il still has a Maede,' were her words. The new Grand Alchemist didn't do much, apart from nervously rubbing his hands, scared of being held responsible for his master's death due to his negligence.

The discovery of the corpses of three Darshi'nai drove the guard to deduce that a rival House had sent its own Shadow with success. But, how?

In the meanwhile, Caradhar had spent the day locked up in his room. At dusk he headed to Dame Corail's. A surprised lady-in-waiting allowed him to enter and guided him to her mistress' private room, where no-one was admitted.

The place was silent, similar to how he remembered it, except for a huge cradle made of noble woods, with white lace hangings and interlaced silver threads, placed besides the armchair where his mother used to sit. He decided to wait standing in the middle of the room.

The lady appeared shortly after, coming from the adjacent chamber. She looked calm, beautiful even in her mourning clothes, yet a bit pale. She smiled and walked to the cradle. With pride. The young elf was not experienced with those things, but felt surprised of finding her in such good shape.

'So, don't you want to know the new Lord of House Elore'il?' she asked, taking the baby out and gently holding him.

Caradhar walked towards them with reluctance; he didn't know what to say and felt uncomfortable. He looked at the baby, still asleep and quiet; delicate strands of reddish hair already covered his little head.

Some noise at his back made him turn his head with alarm. Over the threshold his mother had just crossed stood the figure of the mute servant; he breathed again, but then noticed fear in the girl's eyes, her pale and shaken face and, above all, the blood along the hem of her white nightgown. She could barely stand, but was desperately trying to say something using gestures; in the end she pointed at the baby and then at Caradhar, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Meanwhile, Dame Corail had left the baby back in his cradle and approached the girl, with a furious gaze. She dragged her to the other room, and for a short while Caradhar could hear the mute elf's faint whimpers. In the end, everything became quiet again. He heard the sound of a heavy door closing, and Corail returned.

'What have you done to her? What's all this?' he asked, frowning.

'I should have taken care of her earlier, but I didn't have the chance; anyway, forget her: she has nothing to do with us anymore. I was intending to tell you, honestly, but not like this.' she sighed deeply and walked back to the cradle, whispering: 'Caradhar, it's true, I can't bear children anymore. This baby, the heir of House Elore'il, is not my son' she turned around and looked into his eyes 'but yours.'

The young elf's head spun. How could it be possible? She had to be mocking him. And yet... A memory arose in his mind: those nights in which the young servant had slipped in his bedroom and his bed. But surely, she wouldn't dare to... His blood ran cold.

'If you speak,' carried on his mother, 'You'll deprive the child of his future rights and condemn us all. But if you remain silent, if you allow me to take care of him, I will turn him into the most powerful Maede that House Elore'il and Argailias ever knew. And you, as his father, will stay here and be the gifted that watches over him, won't you?'

'Come closer, my dear, and contemplate your own flesh and blood...'

Caradhar stood still, breathing heavily. He closed his eyes and felt a growing pressure inside his chest: shock, anxiety, anger... rising like a bubble... He thought of grabbing his mother's neck and squeeze it until it would break; he thought of yelling at the top of his lungs and shatter the room into pieces; he thought, finally, of lying on the ground, hugging his knees, and not moving anymore, since, as far as he could remember, he had always been someone else's toy. The awareness of this fact struck him so hard that he almost felt it physically.

The bubble inside him exploded and left nothing behind; just an infinite weariness.

'No.' He said, simply, rubbing his temples. His eyes recovered their usual frozen quality.

'Nothing changed, Caradhar, except for the best.' The lady smiled faintly. 'We are free to belong to each other, like a family. Your only family.'

'Family... I regard that kid as much as my son as I regard you as my mother. After all, what can I know?' he added, indifferently.

'Please, don't say that...' she begged, with a soft voice that betrayed a trace of sorrow.

'I'm not staying, Corail. You can do as you please, but that child has nothing to do with me. I won't be anyone else's puppet anymore, and if I have to be damned, at least it will be by my own choice.'

Dame Corail's cheeks reddened, while her son turned his back to her and started to go way.

'Caradhar, this is your place... The only one you can truly belong to...' She approached him and rested her hand on his back. 'And I love you more than anyone else. Are you going to leave me, now that I met you again?'

Her words seemed to be useless, as they didn't stop him.

'I beg you: don't leave your only family.'

The young elf came to a halt. He turned his head slowly and looked at his mother over his shoulder. For the first time, he smiled at her: it was the most bitter smile she had ever seen.

Caradhar resumed his way out of the room, and out of House Elore'il.

END OF PART ONE

 
 

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