This has taken *forever* to post - I know! My deepest apologies! I know where I want this story to go, but it's actually kind of *hard* to get it out, you know!
Ummm...not much. A reappearance of ...... and ...... since you guys begged me so much! *grinz* More soon, I promise!
One thing - how do you guys feel about a lemon? I've got a D/N one, but I'm not sure....
Happy reading!
Giovanna xoxo
~žAåz~žAåz
Part 16
It seems as if we were here only yesterday, Alanna exclaimed cheerfully, her right hand gesturing lazily at Cría. Numair, riding his faithful gelding, shook his head but said nothing. He wasn't sure about returning.
The war against Tusaine had been a stupid one. Duke Hilam's son tried to do what his father had failed to; take over the Drell Valley. He lost pathetically, even though he had help from several different types of immortals.
Alanna couldn't help shivering as she remembered those awe-inspiring creatures. They had been amazing - but she still suffered occasional nightmares. Numair - well, he was a mystery. He had been a mystery ever since they'd left Galla.
It's the girl, she thought, glancing at her tall friend. He was brooding, hands holding the reins loosely. I'd have thought he'd be over her by now.
Of course, she didn't know if he was worried about her, or her magic. Or both.
Meanwhile, Numair was thinking his own thoughts. Most of them were about Daine's wildmagic - could it help them against the immortals? Ever since the war, those magical beings had been seen all over the Eastern Lands - but it seemed that only Tortall got the nasty ones.
If I could only convince her to come back to Corus with us, he thought, shifting in his saddle. She would be a great help. I wonder how far she's gotten with her power, alone. Can she shapeshift? Heal while staying in control? He sighed, suddenly noticing how sore his backside was. I should never have left her. What type of teacher leaves his student in the middle of training?
You were afraid, an annoying part of his brain whispered.
Of what, pray tell? he demanded sarcastically.
Your feelings.
What feelings?
Don't deceive yourself, Numair. I know you were growing fond of her.
Well, of course I was fond of her! She's my student! It's perfectly natural for a teacher to be fond of his student.
You are so transparent. You were attracted to her, and not because she is a potential wildmage. Don't try to deny it.
Numair didn't bother to reply.
See? You can't. You were attracted to her, and -
Listen here, you subconscious little prat, Numair suddenly snapped mentally. I am a blackrobe mage and part of the King's council. Although my younger self might have trifled with common whores, Numair Salmalín does not, I repeat, does not, fall in love with them. Ever. She was my student, and thus, as her teacher, I grew to like her in a fatherly way. Understood?
The voice had nothing to say to that.
Satisfied, Numair turned his thoughts to other things - or at least, he tried to. Guilt suddenly swamped his senses; Daine was much more than a common whore. Since when had he begun to scorn courtesans? He himself had accepted their services when he was younger.
You're a fool, Numair, he thought miserably. You fell in love during the short time spent with her. But do I still love her? No. That's passed. She's my student, and possibly friend. That's it. Besides, I'm too old for the girl.
King Trystam was surprised when they arrived at the palace, but not unhappy. He told them that the magical sickness had apparently disappeared - ever since Alanna and Numair first arrived, it had ceased to develop.
But don't let that make you leave, he told them cheerfully, leading them himself to their original rooms. You can still study the people who had it, you know. And you must tell me how the war went. I hear that Stormwings were allied with the Tusainis - is this true? And how...
And so it went. For the entire night, Trystam fired them questions, and, amused, the Tortallans replied. Well, Alanna replied - Numair sat at the window, looking listlessly outside.
said Alanna, shaking him out of his reverie.
he asked, turning dark eyes on her.
Are you alright? That was Trystam, standing up while drinking down the last of his wine. You're very quiet.
I'm just tired, Numair replied. Are you leaving already?
The king nodded. You two are falling asleep even as I talk; I am myself. So, I bid you goodnight. He nodded again, then left. Alanna stretched, yawning.
I'm completely done in, she announced. I'm going to bed. How about you?
Numair looked back outside. I think I shall go for a ride.
He nodded.
Don't stay out too long.
The Silver Temple was unnaturally quiet. The doors were locked; the windows dark. There were no men or women lounging outside; no music boomed down the street.
It looked dead.
Ignoring a growing unease, Numair made for the door which lead to the common room. It was closed, so he knocked. Hard.
Just what - began an angry voice; Numair turned around and saw Damara approaching him, a long cloak covering her. He wasn't sure, but he thought she looked older, more tired.
she gasped, recognizing him. Master Numair! When did you get back?
I arrived today, he replied, nodding a greeting. Why is it closed?
replied Damara, fishing a key out of her pocket. A few months ago, one of my girls, Valentina My Valentine, died of a mysterious illness. A healer-friend of mine suggested that I close the Temple temporarily, so it could be renovated and cleaned. Besides, the rest of my girls needed a small vacation. She unlocked the door and slipped in, gesturing for Numair to follow her.
It was dark; she took a few candles and lit them, before starting a fire in the hearth and getting some drinks. But why are you here? she asked, pulling off her cloak. Have you finally come to your senses and realized that you do want the services of a courtesan?
Numair blushed slightly. No. I came to see Daine.
Damara looked down, lower lip trembling. But of course you don't know, she whispered.
I don't know what? he asked, suddenly alert. Damara looked at him, her eyes glazed with tears.
Daine...she's gone.
Numair blinked. She's gone? he repeated stupidly.
Damara nodded. We haven't seen or heard from her for two months, she rasped. One night, she received a summons from the emperor to come up to the palace. And so she went - and she never returned. And - Master Numair? Are you alright?
The emperor. That was the only thing which registered in his mind. The emperor.
I'm sorry, he said, shaking himself. You said emperor; which emperor?
Emperor Ozorne of Carthak - Mithros, are you ill?
Numair had stood up, his face deathly white. he muttered. Are you sure?
Damara nodded, confusion and worry written on her face. Yes. He used to be a regular visitor when he visited two months ago. Daine was a favorite of his - Master Numair, I think you should sit down!
The mage shook his head, making for the door. Thank you very much, he told Damara. Then he went outside, mounted his horse, and galloped back to the palace.
he roared, storming inside their suite. Alanna, get up! Now! He began to pace, occasionally overturning a piece of furniture in his rage.
Numair, what has possessed you? Alanna demanded, entering the room, tying the cord around her robe. Do you know what time it is? And why - she trailed off, noticing for the first time how pale Numair was.
Get the king, he muttered, staring at a wall.
But -
Do it!
With a sigh, Alanna ran off to obey. A while later, she returned, bringing a sleepy-eyed Trystam with her. Muttering apologies, the knight offered a chair to the king, then sat down herself.
Numair, pacing furiously, ignored them. I should have known, he thought darkly. Anything magical attracts his attention - and as soon as we left, he came in. It's almost as if he...as if... He stopped, startled at the path his thoughts had taken him to. It's as if he was the one who -
snapped Alanna. Will you please tell us what is going on!
The mage organized his ideas, then turned towards the knight and the king. In a careful tone, he asked,
Did Emperor Ozorne of Carthak pay a visit after we left, by any chance?
Trystam blinked. Well - yes, yes he did. He frowned.
Because that pus-sucking, son of a - Ozorne and Tortall are not friends, he said. Don't you find it the least bit curious that he comes here right after we leave?
Alanna looked puzzled, Trystam even more so. Why? He was just acting the monarch, visiting, and forging new alliances and making arrangements.
Did he seem interested in the magical sickness?
Trystam's frown suddenly reflected understanding. When he came, he said quietly, I thought the same thing. The magical sickness - two important Tortallans leaving to fight a war - Carthak, a not-so-friendly nation to Tortall, sending her emperor here...yes, he seemed curious enough. Who wouldn't be?
With a tired sigh, Alanna rubbed her face, trying to stay awake. What are you saying? That Ozorne concocted the illness?
Numair's smile was bitter. You catch on quickly, my lady, he said sardonically.
Alanna sighed again. Is there proof? You know you can't accuse him without proof.
Opening his mouth to reply, Numair was cut off by Trystam.
She's right, you know. And it's dangerous to accuse a monarch of a crime without tangible evidence - moreover, doing so in front of another monarch is... He trailed off, his face serious and concerned.
Numair shook his head. I have a hunch, Majesty. Nothing more, nothing less.
The next morning, Alanna found Numair packed and read to go...
And just where are you going? she demanded, running a hand through her hair.
Alanna, I didn't tell you last night because of Trystam - Daine's gone.
The knight blinked. Gone? Daine? Daine's...Daine's gone?
Ozorne took her to Carthak. Numair closed his saddlebag and regarded his friend with a sigh. That's why I was so curious about His Imperialness last night.
Alanna's mouth was in an O. But how do you know this? she managed to ask.
Talked to Damara last night, the mage muttered, moving to a mirror so he could brush his hair. Apparently, she was a favorite of his. One day, two months ago, he summoned her to the palace - and she never returned.
The Lioness shook her head. And why would he take her to Carthak? Why not just...I don't know...kill her? Or -
Lock her away in a place not Carthak? Numair snorted as he pulled his silky black hair back. Alanna, are we talking about the same Ozorne? Think of it - he becomes obsessed with one of the finest courtesans in the Eastern Lands, and when the time comes to go, he leaves her. No way - it doesn't work like that.
Numair turned towards his friend, a frown pulling his lips down. Ozorne is very...ah...concerned with the...ah...pleasures of the flesh, he began, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his tanned cheeks. Obviously, that means he likes to involve himself in extreme ple-
Alright, alright, I understand! snapped Alanna; Numair grinned humorlessly.
Anyway, Carthak has a certain breed of women. Dark hair, dark eyes, warm, smoky skin - I'm not saying there isn't any variation, but a man can get sick of that exotic complexion after a while. Ozorne, especially. He's fickle. My guess is that he began to crave a Northerner - pale skin, pale eyes.
Daine's not fair.
She's still an ice-lady compared to Carthak's stock of women.
sighed Alanna. I think I understand now. He wanted a different sort of mistress, so he just grabbed his favorite courtesan in Galla and took her to Carthak. It's all very clear to me now.
Numair responded. Now, I want to get back to Tortall, concoct some excuse for traveling to Carthak, and get her back.
But Numair, are you sure that's safe? I mean, so many th-
Do you know what Ozorne will do when - if - he discovers Daine's wildmagic? Numair hissed, glaring at her. Do you?
I can't begin to imagine.¤