Branches of Time, The (9 page)

Upon hearing those words, Bashinoir realized how Miril, speaking so calmly and naturally, looked as if she were being crushed by a heavy weight. It was just dawn, and yet her face was worn, as if she had stayed awake the entire night.
We need to help her any way we can
.

The priestess smiled kindly: “If you agree, we can rearrange the living quarters to accommodate all of us. I'll stay where I've always been. Lil will have the novice's quarters and you, Bashinoir, can stay in the guest rooms. The area for priests is more comfortable and better heated, but the energy level of those spaces is not suitable for someone who hasn't taken the oaths and right now I don't have the resources to make the necessary adjustments. When we get a chance to perform that type of ritual, you can move. We can take a look at your new quarters now, if you'd like.”

We've finally found a bigger house
, Bashinoir thought, watching his wife get up to clear the table.
But at what cost?
 

21

Tuirl removed a large key from his pocket and pushed open the heavy door, revealing a long sequence of stairs spiraling down into the darkness. For the thousandth time, he looked around, furtively. He had taken every precaution to make sure nobody saw him, yet he felt a gnawing sense of anxiety whenever he went down to that place.

The torchlight illuminated the stairs, which appeared to trail on into infinity. As he walked down, the temperature gradually dropped. Spiders and flies crawled about everywhere. Tuirl stared at the wall to his right, searching for a stone with a slightly rosy hue.

When he finally found it, he counted down another twelve stairs, then bent down to push the third stone from the ground. Nothing happened.
Did I count wrong?
After a few seconds, part of the wall started moving back, creating just enough space for a man to walk through. Tuirl entered and, pressing a stone to his right, activated the mechanism to close the wall behind him.

Using the flame from his torch, he lit the lamps hanging from the walls and studied the room. It was exactly how he remembered leaving it. On either side there were dusty bookcases full of scrolls and ancient-looking volumes. A faldstool stood in the middle of the room, with a stone basin full of black liquid in front of it. Every once in a while, a drop fell from the ceiling straight into the bowl. The liquid overflowed, dripping down the side opposite the entry door. There were no partitions in this room, just empty space and, hanging below the ceiling, a thick layer of fog. The liquid dripped down into the abyss. Tuirl looked around yet again, full of an unjustified disquiet.
Nobody knows this room exists. No curious eye has ever seen what lies behind these walls.

He knelt down, took a deep breath and held his hands over the black liquid.

She's going to be very, very angry.

He had done all he possibly could to keep postponing their meeting, but he knew he'd eventually have to explain things to her, and now he couldn't buy any more time. For a few seconds, he thought maybe he should turn back and run away. He could come back the week after next, justifying his repeated absences with court engagements and his duties as advisor.
No, if I keep putting her off, I could end up with some unpleasant consequences.

Resigned, he dipped his hands into the liquid.

Kneeling down in front of the altar, Miril immediately sensed the contact. She rose to her feet and headed towards the inner chambers of the Temple. She entered a small, square room, closing the door behind her.
Lil would never come to this area of the Temple, and Bashinoir isn't even allowed here, but it's better not to run any risks.

She placed her hands in the black liquid of the rocky hollow and immediately the image of Tuirl materialized in front of her, first faint, then growing more clearly defined.

“Why did you wait so long to contact me?” she reproached him drily.

“Priestess, I humbly ask for your forgiveness, but my engagements at court did not allow me to come here earlier.”

“Engagements at court, or fear of facing me?”

Tuirl felt an icy chill travel down his spine. As he had expected, the priestess was incredibly angry with him. How could it have been otherwise? The advisor understood punishment was in order, and that, this time, it would be very harsh.

“Priestess Miril, I understand what happened cannot be justified -”

“The entire population of the island has been exterminated.
My people
. Do you understand what that means?”

“Yes, priestess. I'm aware of the situation, and I still don't understand how the old wizard Aldin was able to pull off such an extensive magical operation. He always seemed to be completely incompetent, and I never failed to perform the acts of sabotage you ordered me to.”

“So what happened, then?” Miril was barely able to contain her rage. Tuirl had never even heard her raise her voice before.

“I...I don't know. Aldin may have worked secretly on a few spells, without my knowing.”

“How could that possibly have gotten by you? I ordered you to go through that laboratory every single night! You had very precise instructions. You were to report to me, in advance, on any spell Aldin was preparing to cast.”

“Priestess, believe me, that's what I always did. I never kept any information from you.”

“And yet, you were so careless as to let the preparations for a spell – a spell that exterminated an entire people – get right past you!”

Miril was beside herself with anger. Tuirl started to fear for his own life.

“Tuirl,” she began again. “The preparations for a spell of that magnitude require years, if not decades. Are you sure you never noticed anything?”

“Priestess Miril, please, believe me. I reported every ritual, spell, and magical action that the wizard Aldin undertook, directly to you. You had information on the progress of every spell he cast to break down the barrier and, as a matter of fact, following your orders, I was able to alter the composition of the elements, without raising any suspicion. He was so sure of his success that he decided to set sail on the same ship, taking on someone else's appearance. And when the ship crashed, he died along with the rest.”

Aldin is dead?
The priestess, who had been deprived of this precious contact with Tuirl for weeks, wasn't aware of that particular detail.

“So, the court wizard is no longer alive?”

“Precisely, priestess. And, if you'll allow me to continue, it's also partly because of me.”

For once he followed the instructions properly.
“So what has the king decided to do now? Will he give up on these designs?”

“Actually, if you want to know the truth, upon my counsel, he decided to call old Obolil back into service.”

“And what made you suggest such a thing to him?”

“I don't trust the apprentice, young Ilis. We don't know what he's capable of. I thought if the king gave him the time and resources to go ahead with his own experiments, maybe he would have learned something that would prove to be dangerous for us. But, on the other hand, if he's under the guidance of the wizard Obolil, then there's no way anything is going to change. As you know full well, Obolil never had any talent to him. Besides, he's exhausted, after spending twenty years locked up in a cell, kept company by his own excrement. His memory is weak and he's full of hatred for the king. In other words, under Obolil's guidance, we can be sure that Ilis isn't going to get very far with his studies.”

Though Miril understood the logic behind Tuirl's plan, she knew he was prone to making major errors of judgment.

“So you went ahead and set all of that up without asking for my approval?”

Her menacing tone of voice washed away the tiny bits of confidence Tuirl had managed to recover. “Priestess, please, forgive me. I was afraid that King Beanor would act upon his own initiative. You know better than I do that the monarch is so proud that he'd never back out of a decision made by his own volition. I had to improvise.”

“Tuirl, you are a follower of the Goddess. I am her manifestation in this world. She will not grant you permission to make any more mistakes, for any reason whatsoever. If your lack of obedience creates any further problems, you'll pay with your life.”
But not now, because you're the only spy I have.

“I understand, priestess. I know I shouldn't have done what I did and I humbly ask you to forgive me. The weight of my responsibilities keeps me awake at night. Your people have lost their lives. But tell me, please, to alleviate my grief and guilt, even just a little – were any of them spared? Did anyone survive on the island along with you? I can't bear to think you've been condemned to solitude.”

“Don't you worry about me. And it's none of your business whether or not any people of the island have survived. The only thing you need to worry about from now on is coming here at least once a week and telling me everything that happens inside of that palace. I want to know about every move Obolil makes. Now go.”

“Priestess, I humbly ask for your forgiveness.”

“The Goddess does not pardon incompetence.”

Miril lifted her hands out of the black liquid. In the secret room, hidden within the foundation of the royal palace, her figure vanished. The fog turned grey and became denser in front of Tuirl's eyes, now full of relief.

22

King Beanor sat at the table. His sole reason for dining was to enjoy the show he had arranged for himself.

A few days earlier, walking around the perimeter of the palace, he had noticed the gorgeous shape of a young maiden moving through the hovels down below. Immediately infatuated, he had sent the royal guards to go fetch her.

Upon his orders, the maiden was entrusted to his other wives, so she could be properly trained. A few hours later, however, Beanor had decided he could no longer wait, ignoring Aleia's protests, who tried to convince him that the girl was not ready.

Watching her, the king decided that she did indeed need more preparation before she could truly be called a dancer. Yet this was a minor detail the king was happy to overlook for the time being.

With a wave of his hand, still clinging onto a chicken leg, he motioned for the musicians to stop.

“Come here!” he ordered the young woman, as he continued chewing with gusto.

Cautious and a bit intimidated, the girl obeyed. When she was close to the monarch, he calmly placed a hand on her hip and roughly spun her around.

“Hmm...” he lowed. “Put your hands on the table and bend over!” He carefully scrutinized her rear end, prodding it methodically.

“Interesting. Young, firm, perfect in every aspect.” Beanor was thoroughly enchanted by the perfect rotundity of her gluteals. He caressed them and pawed at them for several moments, then slipped his hand between her thighs, moving until he could feel her sex.

“They promised me you were a virgin. Stay that way and one of these nights we'll have a little fun, just you and me.”

He explored her vulva with a finger. “Just look how tight you are! Not bad...not bad at all!” He brought his finger to his nose. “What a lovely smell...Guards!” he shouted.

The young woman tried to stand back up but, with a hand on her back, he forced her to remain bent over. “Call the advisor over here.”

One guard left the room and came back a few moments later with Tuirl, who found King Beanor intent upon his examination.

“Advisor, look at this ass. What do you see?”

The elderly man quietly came forward to get a better look. “Your majesty, this young lady appears to be quite lovely. And I believe she would make an excellent addition, if that's what you wanted to know.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But take a good look. Bend down, if your eyes are too weak.”

Doing his best to hide his annoyance, Tuirl obeyed.

“Your majesty, it appears to me as if her physique is
extremely
lovely.”

Slapping the woman's behind, Beanor exclaimed: “It's small! Don't you see? Don't you understand? It's a young and compact ass, just how I like them. How is it possible that all of my wives enter the palace with asses like this and then let themselves go?”

“Your Majesty, I believe that...the abundance and variety of food you provide your wives helps them to take on more...generous proportions. But I can assure you that, in my opinion, all of your companions have retained their charms.”

Do I have to order them to eat less?
Beanor wondered.
Then would they be...less energetic in bed?
“Fine, right. I don't know why I bother asking you these things. I've never seen you go around with anything attractive on your arm!”

Tuirl refrained from commenting.

Noticing the advisor's uneasiness, Beanor decided to continue with his rant.

“I've heard what people are saying around the palace. Some think you're plotting something behind my back! What do you have to say about that?”