The Sorcerer's Concubine (The Telepath and the Sorcerer Book 1) (15 page)

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s the same feeling I had in my gut when I saw that the Marnow house was gone,” he said. “Still, before we go, we can do that Cake Walk dance one more time.”

V
elsa remained fascinated
by the Talking Machine. She dreamed of taking it apart and putting it back together again, to see if its mystery might be revealed. No one would permit the gift from Kalan Jherin to be disassembled, however, so she had to content herself with listening to the Cake Walk, inspecting all the phonograph’s parts, and reading the manual over and over.

Certainly, besides the books, the phonograph was the most interesting thing around. The very nature of patrol life kept her close to Grau but far away at the same time. The only place they might be alone was in the washroom or the latrines. The washroom was just a thin door away from the beds, and thus not really private at all, and Velsa refused to make love inside a latrine.

Grau liked to tease her every evening by reminding her how much time they had left.

“Only four and half months to go,” he said, as they climbed the stairs to their barracks after a pleasant evening around the fire. 

“Four and a half months is an eternity.”

“And then maybe we’ll go buy ourselves a barn. Seems to be all we need.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you not miss me at all?”

“Oh, I miss you. I’m just a very patient man. All good sorcerers must learn to be patient and controlled.”

“Your father wouldn’t approve of all this patience and control, wasting your money…”

“You’re the one who wants privacy. I’d be willing to try finding some out of the way spot…”

“So we can run into Flower again? No, thank you.” The wall where they had found Flower with the other soldier was certainly one of the most private spots, but Velsa had never even walked that way again.

He stopped in the hall and ran a hand through her hair. “You just need to concentrate on your magic lessons more and less on…” He trailed off as she slid her hands along his back, drawing him closer to her. “Just who is the concubine around here anyway?”

He kissed her, her back pressed against the wall, and she wrapped his arms around his neck. He lifted her legs so they were wrapped around him, his pelvis against hers, nudging her, stirring her desire. She had to shake off the bad memory of Flower in the same pose. It certainly felt nice when it was Grau.

The door swung open and Rawly whistled.

She dropped her feet to the floor.

“Can’t anyone have a moment around here?” Grau said.

“Nah,” Rawly said. “Sorry. I need to go use the can.”

“Yeah,
right
,” Grau said. “Why didn’t you go before coming up here?”

Rawly threw up a hand and went to the stairs.

Velsa looked at Grau miserably. Even if they had a tent, all those bored soldiers who always milled around outside would probably come snooping if they heard any interesting noises or noticed any interesting silhouettes.

They climbed into their bed, and in a few more minutes it was lights out. Rawly returned, banging his foot on the bed frame in the dark. The usual sounds of snoring resumed.

Grau slid a hand between her legs, nudging aside the fabric of her chemise. “Shh,” he whispered in her ear. “You don’t have to breathe, so I think you can be very quiet, can’t you?”

She spread her thighs, with the smallest sigh of relief, and pressed back against him. He hadn’t touched her like this in weeks.

She
could
be quiet, but that didn’t mean it was easy. His fingers moved in firm, deep strokes, and she chewed on her lip.

The bed creaked if she dared to move too much, and oh, he knew just how to tease her by now, how to coax her hips into movement. She wanted to help him but she didn’t dare. Instead she pressed her buttocks against him, trying to stay still although she felt his own arousal, trembling against her.

His other hand moved to plump her breast, then pinch her nipple so the skin tightened. It always amazed her, how her body seemed to come alive when he touched her. This was what she yearned for, more than anything.

He nibbled her earlobe, sending a shiver all the way down her back to the spot where his right hand stroked faster.

She wanted so badly to moan, to say his name. She leaned her head back, drinking in the sensations washing over her in waves that came ever stronger. Her mouth lolled open and she wanted to kiss him but not at the expense of losing the tongue grazing the edge of her ear…

He drew his hands and mouth back all at once.

“What?” She turned over.

His dark eyes were just glints of mischief in the moonlight filtering through the curtains. “I’m making a better, more patient sorceress out of you.”

“Oh, no.
No
.” She shoved his shoulders.

He pulled her on top of him, his hardness nudging her. The bed squeaked and one of the snores stopped.

She drew back, embarrassed. She had gotten caught up for a moment, but no, she was not about to make a spectacle of herself.

“Meet me in the hall…if you dare,” Grau said. He climbed out of bed and crept out the door.

“You!” she hissed, wrapping the blanket around her body like a cloak. It sounded like everyone was awake now and someone laughed as her stocking feet rushed past them in the dark.

Grau was waiting outside the door and grabbed her, tightening the blanket around her. She was torn between laughter and protest when he slung her over his shoulder and carried her to the stairs, down to the flight between the floors.

“I think we have the stairwell to ourselves,” he said. 

“I hope it stays that way. Everyone heard us.”

“I was kidding about patience.” He held up the jar of oil. Usually that was tucked away in his bag, and she gave him a smug smile.

“You planned this little strategy, didn’t you?”

“Sorcery is one thing. You are another thing.”

The look in his eyes, hard and soft all at once, never failed to thrill her. It was difficult to believe, nowadays, that she had ever been afraid of him, even from the first time she saw those eyes. But her time at the House already seemed so long ago.

He dropped the waistband of his pants just enough to slick himself with the oil, scoop her up and push himself into her. She battled the blanket off of her arms so she could wrap them around him, finally letting out the moan that had built up from all of his earlier attempts to provoke her. She still found some tiny, cruel part of her mind wandering back to Flower. Flower had probably never felt like this, like she truly wanted the man inside her. It was hard to believe the same act could be so sweet or so abominable.

“My beautiful wife,” Grau said.

“Oh…” She never tired of those words. “But not yet…”

“Soon,” he said. “I can’t wait to whisk you away from here…and find a place where we can be happy.”

She was almost in tears from the joy of it all. 

From downstairs came the sound of a terrific crash and several loud bangs. They both jumped, and she cried out from surprise and pain as she knocked her head against the wall.

They broke apart, quickly fixing their clothes back to decency and rushing down the stairs. Grau pulled his magic light from his pocket. Nothing was apparent from the bottom of the stairs, but then, it had sounded a little farther away than that.

Like it came from the library.

The library had a door with a lock, but Velsa couldn’t say for sure if anyone really locked it. Either way, it was wide open now, and Velsa quickened her steps, knowing what was kept inside the library, what would make such a sound when it fell.

The pieces of her beautiful phonograph were scattered all over the floor. The wooden case had busted, the mechanism broken apart, and the horn was cracked and dented. It looked as if someone had dropped it and then taken a hammer to the pieces, to be sure no repairs were possible.

Grau took one look at the damage and then he ran out, dashing around the dark, abandoned headquarters and opening the door to peer outside. Apparently the culprit was gone. He returned alone as Velsa picked up the metal emblem that identified the Victor Talking Machine. She turned it over and over in her hand, as if the emblem held the machine’s soul and could be restored to a new body, the way her own soul was caught in her eyes.

“Why would anyone do this?” Grau said.

They heard doors open, and in another moment Lieutenant Dlara walked in. Somehow, adding a pajama-clad, bleary-eyed Lieutenant Dlara to the scene made it even worse. “What happened here!?”

“We don’t know,” Velsa said. “We heard it break…”

“But whoever did it was gone,” Grau said.

“I certainly hope no one in this camp harbors disloyal thoughts toward Kalan Jherin,” Dlara said. “Someone needs to answer for this.” He picked up a dented piece of the horn. “Either they had a key to the library or they picked a lock. You saw no one?”

“It took us a second to get down here,” Grau said.

Velsa felt hollow inside, as if a friend had died, and she couldn’t yet accept it. She might never see a phonograph again. Fates only knew how much it had cost.

“Go back to bed,” Dlara said. “I’m going to question the night guards and talk to the other officers.”

In the morning, the camp was subdued but abuzz with gossip. Word of the shattered phonograph had spread, but no one had been punished. Everyone assumed it was an act of rebellion against Kalan Jherin, and Velsa certainly could see why someone might want to rebel against the severe man in the portrait, with all of his tracts and pamphlets supposedly handed down by fate, and his strange machines.

Flower strolled by. “You must be so sad, Velsa. I know how much you loved that thing.”

Velsa stiffened.

Grau put a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh dear, you don’t think I did it, do you?” Flower clasped her hands. “Such a violent act.”

“You…didn’t, did you?” Velsa asked carefully.

Flower came close enough to whisper in Velsa’s ear. “I did do it,” she said. “And good luck proving it.”

“I’ve never done anything to you!” Velsa couldn’t hold back her anger. “And you take it out on the phonograph?”

“You’re the only one who really cared about it.”

“You know if anyone does find out you broke something so expensive that came from Kalan Jherin…” She faltered, since she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen to a law-breaking concubine.

“Dozens of men will vouch for me,” Flower said. “Don’t poke a wasp’s nest.”

When she left, Grau said, “We should still tell Dlara. Even if he can’t do anything about it, he ought to be aware.”

Lieutenant Dlara seemed unsurprised when they informed him. “Frankly, I’d still rather it be Flower’s petty jealousy than an anti-Kalanite among us,” he said. “I could speak to Archel about it…”

Grau made a hesitant sound. “I worry this might only make things worse. But this
is
the second time Flower has targeted Velsa, and she’s willing to destroy camp property. What might she plan next?”

“I understand the hesitation,” Dlara said. “The trouble with Flower is that she’s slept with half the men in the camp. Archel doesn’t care about her, so how can we expect her to care about anyone else? Her behavior is completely unacceptable, but the men like having her around, for their own selfish reasons, and it would cause a fuss if we brought the hammer down upon her.”

“How is a concubine regarded, by law?” Grau asked. “If she hurt Velsa, what recourse do we have?”

“Archel would have to compensate you for any physical damages,” Dlara said. “Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be considered a crime against a person…” He looked uncomfortable.

Grau made a low sigh of frustration, took off his hat and smashed it in his hand. “Damn.”

“I don’t think there’s much we can do,” Velsa said, reluctantly, but she felt so helpless. Flower would always win, it seemed.

When they came to dinner that night, Flower was sitting on a man’s knee, her head bowed against him while he rubbed her back, as if consoling her. Archel and Dlara were being very quiet. The men were passing the wine around themselves instead of being served by Flower.

A bad feeling tickled its way up Velsa’s spine. Other men were filing in to take their places at the table.

“Something wrong, doll?” one of them asked Flower.

She gave him a pitiful look and then glanced at Velsa, and when she turned Velsa realized her hands were missing.

“She is being punished,” Archel said curtly.

Hours before, Dlara had agreed with them that he wouldn’t say anything about Flower’s deed. Velsa sensed the tension between the two Lieutenants and Flower. Maybe Archel had found out on his own and been angry.

Either way, Flower’s glare made Velsa shudder.

The men served themselves, but Flower still floated around the table throughout dinner, acting like a little girl scolded for stealing a sweet. She pouted and held her arms close to her body, giving shy glances through her eyelashes until she had been thoroughly assured that she was still just as pretty as ever.

Velsa could never watch her without a sick fuzzy feeling rising inside her chest, a mix of pity and…

Utter fury.

Did Flower have to act so brazen? As if she enjoyed being treated like a pet and a possession? If she was going to be angry, she should at least take it out on the men who abused her, not Velsa. It made Velsa feel tainted by extension.

Of course…she can’t take it out on them.
Velsa understood this too well.

Grau approached Dlara after dinner. “What is going on?” he demanded in a whisper. “I thought we agreed that punishing Flower would only make things worse.”

“We did, but Archel could tell I was angry. He asked me if Flower had broken the phonograph, and he insisted she be punished. I told him that Flower might retaliate at Velsa, but…Archel really doesn’t care about the affairs of Fanarlem girls. Not yours or his own. He does care about his own standing, of course, and Flower is his responsibility. My hands are tied. It might be even worse if I reported this to my superiors. I believe Lord Jherin has already considered banning concubines from camp. He feels it’s a barbaric custom.”

“I think I agree with him,” Grau said.

Dlara’s brow furrowed and he looked at Velsa. “I didn’t mean in your case.”