The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (9 page)

The Mukthar's face lighted up.

“That would be... that would be fantastic,” he said. “I don't deserve it though,” he added, hoping to be ignored.

“No, you don't, but I guess you just tried to be a good beddurouwin. A very mistaken, deluded beddurouwin.”

Rodomesh sighed.

“And a stupid one. I know, your highness.”

Anaxantis took a piece of parchment out of a cupboard and hastily wrote some lines on it. After pouring fine sand upon the sheet to absorb the excess of ink, he folded and sealed it.

“Here,” he said, handing the closed parchment to Rodomesh. “Give him that.”

“Thank you, frishiu. I won't forget this.”

“That's quite all right. Oh, and ask the page at the little table, down the hallway, to bring me another jug of water, will you?”

Rodomesh flushed.

Minutes later he knocked at Timishi's door. When the prince opened it he handed him the piece of parchment without speaking a word. He waited patiently while Timishi read it, and his heart missed a beat when he saw him smile.

“Come in Rodo,” he said, crumpling the parchment.

“
Before he gives me yet another headache, forgive the poor sod already. I have. A,”
it had read.

“It seems a long time I heard you mention Iramid, Ambrick,” Sterff of Rivrant said casually.

He, Ambrick, Robrant and Morneck of Miradano were sitting at a table in the Hole. It was early evening.

“There's just not much to tell,” Ambrick said with a crooked smile. “What can I say? I still have no idea what to do about this affair of ours.”

“Oh, come on,” Morneck said, “I know several people who would pay a small fortune for a night with Iramid. And he's practically throwing himself at you. What's your problem?”

“Yes, Ambrick,” Sterff concurred, “what exactly is your problem?”

Ambrick didn't answer immediately.

“He's too perfect. Maybe that's it.”

“I can see you might be afraid that he is leading you on,” Morneck said. “But what does it matter after all?

Couldn't you just look at it as some amusing little diversion? After all he is quite a catch. Rumor has it he is hung like a horse, and that he has the body of a god. Damn it, man, what is the matter with you? I would love to suck that dick of his, or better still, having that mouth of his suck mine.”

“Or having his ass take mine,” Sterff snickered. “I think I could fuck him all night long.”

Morneck and Sterff laughed out loud. After some hesitation Ambrick joined in. Only Robrant didn't.

“You shouldn't talk about people like that,” the heir of Emling said.

“What do you know? Don't you have some young girl, not even a noble born one, somewhere in Lorseth Market, you're nuts about?” Sterff asked.

“What has that got to do with anything? OK, I don't have the same taste as you guys. Still, that is no way to talk about someone. Lorcko has feelings too, you know. And I know all about his reputation. I also know that nobody has seen him with anyone, trying to... trying to get intimate.”

“So the fox acts all civilized and polite. Doesn't mean he isn't a fox anymore,” Morneck shrugged. “So what if he has only been having sex with his right hand for the last month or so? I can understand him. I'd like to have his right hand around my cock as well. To begin with, anyway.”

Again they all laughed, except Robrant.

“What if he means it this time? Doesn't he deserve the benefit of the doubt?” he asked.

“That's my problem, right there,” Ambrick said. “Doubt.”

“You could at least give him a chance to prove to you he is serious,” Robrant replied.

“And if he's not?”

“Damn, man, if you're that insecure you should just tell him it will never work between the two of you. That's only fair. Make a clean break before someone's feelings get hurt.”

“Aren't you being overly generous in attributing feelings to Iramid?” Sterff said.

Robrant rose from his chair.

“I'm going to my barrack.1em" a balig You guys disgust me.”

Without another word he left. The remaining three kept quiet for several minutes.

“Let's not give that kill-joy the satisfaction of having spoiled our evening,” Morneck broke the silence.

“I agree,” Sterff said. “Morneck is right and not for the first time either. As he said, many people would pay good money for a night with Iramid. You can get him for free. There's no better deal imaginable. What in all the world is stopping you?”

Ambrick had been staring into his cup. He looked up.

“There's a lot of truth in what you said. I think I know a way out of my problem with Iramid,” he said slowly.

“And I have you guys to thank for it.”

Anaxantis sat at the large table in his chambers. Spread all over it were several maps. He studied them one by one and added a detail on the parchment that lay before him. It was coming along nicely. The map he was making himself contained elements from several others. He had omitted unnecessary embellishments like ornamental curls and drawings of mythical animals. He was pleased with its stark, utilitarian appearance.

Maps were not supposed to be pretty pictures, but simple and clear instruments to tell you what to expect in a certain region. Roads, hills, castles, villages, rivers, bridges, forests and such.

He lay down his quill and wiped an ink stained finger with a piece of cloth. No matter how careful he tried to be, he always smudged them.

The evenings weren't as chilly anymore, still he preferred sitting next to the fire.

“
His maps... it's the only thing he seems to have any interest in lately. Except yesterday. There was some big
feast. I could hear the noise. I wonder what the occasion was. He must have come home very late, because I
was already asleep whenever he did.

“
He hasn't looked me in the eyes the whole evening. Did I do something wrong? Is he planning something?

He never tells me anything. Now that I come to think of it: he never told me much, even before.

“
Surely he is not planning to send me away? Maybe he has grown tired of me hanging around here. Maybe
I've become a burden to him. Oh Gods, please, don't let him send me to the Royal Farms. I'd rather be dead.

“
I must try harder. Make him see I'm useful. And be quiet and unobtrusive when he doesn't need me. Useful?

Everything I do around here, a servant could do as well. Better, probably.

“
No, no, he won't send me away. He still has feelings for me. I know. Every time he invites me into his bed
—”

“Tarno, bring me a pitcher of watered down wine and a cup, please,” his lord said.

He stood up as fast as he could and went to the cabinet where they kept the wine.

“
So much for not touching the stuff ever again,”
Anaxantis thought. “
Well, Murno says it is a useful custom
as the wine purifies the water.”

“Only one measure on ten, Tarno,” he called after him.

“
He's been very quiet this evening. It's as if he knows. But that's not possible.”

He came, walking briskly, in one hand the pitcher, came, pitot in the other a cup. In his haste he bumped into the table and dropped the pitcher. The water mixed with wine ran all over the maps, including the one Anaxantis had been working on all evening.

His lord jumped up to avoid the liquid dripping in his lap. He froze, frightened, terrified by what he had just done. The maps were all drenched. He knew he should do something to salvage what he could, but the terror immobilized him. This was it. Now, surely, his lord was going to get rid of him. Who needed someone around to ruin your work just after you had finished it.

“I'm sorry, my lord,” he stammered, tears welling up in his eyes. “I didn't mean to... I... I'm so clumsy...

please, forgive me... I'm useless, I know...”

Anaxantis had been taken aback as well.

“Don't just stand there,” he said tersely, “go and fetch some towels from the bathroom to dry up this mess.”

He looked at his lord, at first not understanding what he had been ordered to do.

“Go. Go, Tarno. Fetch some towels,” his lord repeated.

The sharpness of his voice startled him awake, and slightly dizzy, not seeing clearly through his teary eyes, he ran to the bathroom. By the time he returned, he was so worked up he dropped the towels. He crouched down to pick them up, but Anaxantis was quicker and snatched one away before he could hand it to him.

Carefully his lord laid the towel on the map he had been drawing, so it could absorb the liquid. He gestured him to bring the rest and lay them on the other maps as well.

It was all too much for him. Trembling he tried to do what was expected of him.

“No, no, not like that. You're smudging the maps. Lay them down flat, gently, without rubbing.”

He let the towels fall down on the table and sank to his knees, crying.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just making it worse.”

He knew it. For sure he would be sent away now. Not only was he forgetful and sloppy about his tasks, but now he had ruined his lord's hard work. Who would want to have someone like him around?

“Please, please, my lord, don't send me away,” he begged, crying. “I'm so sorry, so sorry... Just don't send me away... Lock me up in my room, but don't send me away. Please...”

Anaxantis meanwhile had regained his composure. He looked down at the pitiful, naked, crying figure on the floor.

“
By the Gods, there's almost nothing left of him.”

He crouched down beside him and patted his shoulder.

“Come, come, it was not all that bad.”

“Your maps... I've ruined them...” he answered through his tears.

“No, no, you haven't. They're just instruments. They'll be much the worse for being used in the field. They'll get smudged, folded the wrong way, torn... All kind of things will happen to them. Don't worry. They're just pieces of parchment with ink on them.”

He looked up. He felt his lord taking him by the arms and lifting him up.

“Come,” Anaxantis said, guiding him to the big chair by the hearth.

His lord sat down and pulled him down in his lap. He couldn't own ancou hehelp but put his arms around him.

“You frightened yourself there, didn't you?” his lord said softly.

For some reason it just made him cry harder.

“It was an accident, Tarno. Just an accident. It could have happened to anyone. You meant no harm.”

He felt himself being rocked gently and a hand caressed his hair. Slowly his desperate crying subsided into a subdued whimpering.