Schneider was exceedingly comfortable. Wonderfully, warmly comfortable. The cushions were soft and silken under his back, the mild scent of incense in the air delightfully stimulating. The wine of a very fine and very intoxicating caliber. The food exotically flavorful. And the women -- well the women had quite turned his opinion of the why the females of this land went veiled, around. Of course, one had to assume that the ladies who filled this particular opulent house were of the professional persuasion. Even back home, where women were as brash -- well at least some women -- as men, they didn't dress like this. The lot of them were every bit as scantily clad as Malice and though some might not have been as amply endowed, they were all gorgeous, dark skinned, dark eyed beauties. And all of them were fascinated by him. All of them wanted to get their hands on him. In his hair, on his pale skin. It was a quite, quite agreeable situation.
Malice was jealous as a cat, which amused him greatly. Malice had already sent one of them, who had tried to shoulder the djinni aside in efforts to hand feed him a grape he had asked for - to some unspecified place. A very intriguing talent. He'd asked her where she'd sent the girl and the djinni had merely shrugged and waved an airy hand, replying -- 'oh, somewhere else.' Which meant, he had come to understand, that she didn't know.
She was not the sharpest blade in the rack, he had also concluded. Her power was quite obviously an inborn talent and not a learned property. He didn't think she had the capacity to concentrate long enough to master a simple spell, much less the odd, intriguing talents she possessed.
She was very good at massage though. Better even than Yoko, though he'd never, ever say so in Yoko's hearing. The evening went by in a pleasant, wine softened blur, with himself as satiated as he might possibly be without actually engaging in sex. His self control was fraying though. He was seriously starting to wonder that if what Yoko didn't know wouldn't harm her? Or him.
It was well into night by the time Kall-Su tracked him down. Schneider was reclined upon a pile of brocaded pillows, a girl on one side ready to refill his wine goblet, another massaging his feet with a heady and aromatic oil, another two performing the stimulating and erotic dance he had seen in the market and Malice in the curve of one arm.
Kall-Su looked particularly displeased. Kall-Su looked a little harassed, as if he'd been building up frustration for some time now. He stalked in, through the swaying beads hanging from the ceiling, past various scattered pillows and languidly sprawled human forms to stand over Schneider. With his hands planted on his hips he stared down with distinct disapproval in his blue eyes. Lazily, Schneider returned the stare.
"Where have you been? Do you know how long I've been looking for you?" The questions snapped forth, cold as ice and just as condemning. As if Schneider answered to him. Or to anyone.
"You are starting to sound like a woman." Schneider replied easily, not particularly wishing to disrupt his present contentment to put Kall in his place.
"What are you doing? Is this some sort of game for you?"
"What does it look as if he's doing, oh disrespectful one?" Malice hissed, glaring up at Kall.
Kall ignored her, which made her dig her nails into Schneider's skin in irritation.
"You're the one who ran off in a tantrum." Schneider reminded him. "Don't get an attitude with me because of it."
Kall made an angry sound. He stabbed a finger at Schneider and hissed. "I should have expected to find you in a whore house. It's beyond me why I bothered to look anywhere else first."
"Yeeessss, rather stupid of you." This time Schneider's drawl held a good deal more malevolence. There were only so many insults he would allow himself to receive. Especially in front of witnesses.
"Oh, Master, do not take such insult from this ju 'al jununi." Malice rose to a crouch beside him, spouting a term which he did not understand, but which apparently Kall-Su did, for his face developed his offended ice lord expression and he hissed out a low, quick incantation.
Rather unexpectedly Malice went cold at his side. Very cold. In fact the air about her seemed to solidify and between one breath and the next the warm living djinni who had been molded to his side was suddenly a rather large chunk of ice.
"Goddamnit, Kall." Schneider snapped, jumping back from the uncomfortably cold block. Kall was glaring, not in the least repentant for the foul act of turning Schneider's djinni into an ice cube. He climbed to his feet, readying a spell to get rid of the ice, but found to his surprise that it wasn't needed. A fog began to emanate from the block, seeping outwards and coalescing in much the same fashion it had when she'd had come out of the bottle.
In short order a spitting mad djinni was back in solid form. She made a claws out lunge for Kall-Su. Schneider reached out one long arm and caught her about the waist, hauling back from that particular mistake.
"Malice. No." She let out a breath of pent up anger and turned, of a sudden pliable and eager in his arms. Her hands wrapped around his neck and she pressed her face into his shoulder.
"Oh, master, did you see what he did. He's a terrible, terrible creature."
Kall was staring at her, narrow eyed, just a bit wary that she'd evaded his spell so easily.
"If you wish to stay here with --- that thing. Then do so. I believe I've ceased to care."
"Thing?!!" Malice cried out.
Kall whirled and with a flutter of cloak began to stalk away.
"I'm not finished with you. Get back here." Schneider hissed in exasperation.
Kall almost hesitated in his stride. Almost. He kept walking.
With a curse, Schneider flung Malice away and lunged after the younger wizard. Caught Kall's arm and jerked him about. A fist in his tunic and another twisted in the sun gold hair at his neck and Schneider glared down into eyes that mirrored his own flashflood of anger.
"Don't turn your back on me." He said softly. "You know better than to turn your back on me."
"Let go." Kall twisted to get out of the grip and Schneider tightened his fingers.
"Punish him, master." Malice slithered up, eyes glittering.
"Get out." Schneider hissed at her. Then yelled it, scattering the other denizens of this particular room. The women fled, feeling the prickling fingers of his power-fed agitation. Even Malice slunk away, casting dark looks over her shoulder.
"You are sorely trying my patience, Kall." He said, when they were gone. Kall blinked up at him, furious, wanting -- oh one just knew -- wanting to draw power and lash back at Schneider. But sane enough not to do it. He lifted a fine boned hand to Schneider's chest and tried to push away. Schneider was not sure he was ready to let him. He wasn't sure he had impressed upon him how irritated he was. Damned if he hadn't been better company when he'd been passed out and sick on the boat. A Kall-Su who was distant and coldly disdainful of the world was one thing. Schneider was used to that. Kall had grown up with that detachment a integral part of him that very rarely shattered. A Kall-Su that flared into anger at the slightest infraction, who fairly emanated emotion -- that was another thing all together. That took getting used to. Schneider wasn't certain he liked it. He rather thought it was the little bard's fault. He always had thought she was a disruptive creature.
"I don't think I like what your little wench has done to you." He voiced the thought and Kall's eyes narrowed.
"Done --? What business --- ? You arrogant -- get your hands off me."
Incoherent and babbling. Schneider smiled at him. "See? You prove my point. You're making a fool of yourself. You should apologize to my djinni. She at least has a notion of respect."
He released his hold and Kall-Su took an outraged step backwards.
"I'd rather die." He spat. "Gods, is this all you've been doing all day? Lying about in this --- this house of carnality?"
Schneider shrugged. Kall always had been a prude. He imaged even the little bard couldn't change that.
"Was there something more constructive I could have been doing?"
"Yes." Exasperation there. And beneath it weariness that Kall was trying vainly to hide. If one looked closely, one could see the slight tremor in his hands. He clenched his fists to hide it, but Schneider caught it and narrowed his eyes. Perhaps not quite recovered weeks of extreme sickness. Perhaps not quite recovered from the more serious trauma almost a year past. An explanation perhaps for the mood swings.
"What, prey tell?" he asked, calmer now. Straightening the sash about his loose native trousers. He flicked a crumb off the bare skin of his chest. Kall stared at him, taking in his half dressed state, the wild tousled mess of his hair and he could see the notion as it occurred -- explicitly occurred -- of exactly what he had been doing all afternoon. A blush stained Kall's cheeks, he tightened his mouth and looked away.
"I found a guide to Barhien. There is a caravan leaving in the morning. It's almost morning now. I looked all night for you and couldn't --- it's a large city."
A thought occurred to Schneider. "How did you manage to arrange a guide?"
A shrug. "I remembered the spell."
Kall-Su's so called guide was waiting at the edge of the city, in the midst of a tremendous amount of uproar as caravans arrived and prepared to depart from the coastal city. Schneider had the finest of new native robes thanks to Malice, who assured him that she knew the desert fashion better than he and to leave the conjuring in her adept hands. He supposed she had to be good at something, and fashion and bodily pleasures seemed to be her strong suits. Kall had declined when Schneider had offered her services. The djinni had glared at Kall's back and muttered unpleasant things under her breath. Schneider was beginning to pick up the nuances of the language.
The little guide, Abu, looked at Schneider and the djinni somewhat warily when they strolled up behind Kall-Su. Malice turned her nose up at him, clearly unimpressed and proceeded to study her nails. Schneider stared warily at the camel at Abu's shoulder, distrusting the glob of drool that it worked with thick, hair covered lips.
"I'm not riding one of those." He announced, breaking into the conversation Kall and the little guide were having. The camel lifted its beady eyes and matched his gaze. It spat the gob of spittle into the sand at his boots. It obviously had no idea how close to annihilation it truly was.
"But ---but my lord," Abu stuttered. "Camels are cheaper by far than horses and much more suited to desert travel."
Schneider turned a long, dangerous stare on the little man. Abu cringed a little and stepped behind Kall's shoulder. Kall gave Schneider a disgusted look, but knew better than to argue.
"Find him a horse." He said shortly.
"Oh, master, I can give you the finest horse to grace the desert." Malice perked up. Abu blinked at her. She had donned a loose silken robe, but it gaped open, revealing her harem girl outfit underneath. She shut her eyes, did a little humming chant and rather surprisingly a horse coalesced out of the shimmering, dry air.
It was indeed a very nice horse. Strong chested and delicate boned, all snowy white except for the mane and tail which were jet black. Its gear was studded with gold and precious gems and fluttering with tassels. It tossed its fine head and gave them all an imperious, challenging look. Kall, having a predilection towards things of equine nature, gaped at it. A grin split Schneider's face. Even he couldn't summon horses out of thin air. Maybe his djinni had concrete uses after all. He was starting to realize why the Moulay had wanted her so badly.
"How did --? How did you do that?" Kall couldn't stop looking at the horse. Malice smiled poisonously at him.
"Don't you know, wizard? Would you like one?"
She waved a hand and a second steed almost formed on top of him. He had to jump back to make room for the heavy body that settled into the hard packed sand. Not quite what the first one had been. In fact it looked rather mule-like and ungainly. It shifted its sway back and bared its teeth at all concerned.
Schneider laughed. Kall glared daggers and for a second Schneider thought he was going to have to intervene to keep spells from flying, but Kall got a grip on his irritation. He stalked over to Abu, grabbed the astounded guide's arm and ushered him away.
"You know, there are probably safer people to torment." Schneider leaned over Malice. She smiled seductively up at him.
"You wouldn't let him hurt me, would you master?"
"Hummm. He doesn't always ask before he destroys things, djinni."
"Ohhhh, how disobedient."
"Yes, rather. But what can you do?" he let out a long suffering sigh.
"I can think of a few things." Malice muttered, glaring past him to where Kall and Abu spoke. One got the idea that not all of those things would be particularly distasteful -- well, at least not if they were done to Schneider.
"If I were you, he would be the last person I would start thinking about doing things to."
She arched a brow at him, red lips pursed. "Why? Is he yours?"
"No, he's not mine! God, what is it with you people?" He glared at her, letting out a hiss of breath.
"Well, he's pretty and you act like you own him." She pouted.
"I made him." He snarled at her and she flinched a little. "I saved him. I taught him. Yes, he's a creature of mine. No, I don't fuck him. And I wish to hell people would stop insinuating it."
"Of course master. I didn't mean to imply any impropriety. It is just not uncommon for --"
"Don't care. Don't want to hear it. I'm not sharing my horse. Make your own or ride a damn camel."
"I need gold." Kall-Su uttered the request, after leaving Abu and approaching Schneider and his annoying little djinni. Schneider glared at him accusingly. The djinni did. One could not begin to fathom either one of them. He held out his hand and waited. Abu wanted half the gold up front.
"Well, make him some gold, djinni." Schneider ordered. He sounded a little peevish, which was surprising considering what a fabulous horse he had been gifted with. Kall hated to admit it, since it had come from the djinni, but it was quite the most beautiful animal he had ever laid eyes on.
The djinni pressed her lips together -- oh there was definitely something going on-- and did her little singsong hum, and a pouch of gold appeared in his palm. Disconcerting to say the least, and he was used to ultra natural things.
He nodded curtly at her, closed his fist about the gold and delivered it into Abu's eager, brown little hands. He did not mind the notion of riding atop one of the very odd camels. The creatures were unusual enough to intrigue him. One learned from new experiences.
There was a group of some hundred of the beasts piled high with bundles of commodities on their way to some distant desert province. Abu had told him where, but he had forgotten the foreign name. Words he knew -- that had a clear meaning in his own tongue lodged more firmly in his head. The spell did not work on words that existed only in another language. There were quite a few in this desert tongue that could not be absorbed. Half the speech of the camel drivers seemed that way. They whipped their charged into lumbering motion, jabbering among themselves and at the camels. A hundred camels, half that many men accompanying the caravan. Guards, merchants, drivers.
Abu urged them to join the departing line. The little man whacked at a camel's front legs with a wooden crop and the animal dropped down. It was a way to mount. Kall warily did so and held on as the animal lurched back to its feet. There were reins and one supposed a camel responded much like a horse.
Abu mounted his own beast and whipped it after the caravan. Kall's followed and he allowed himself for a moment to wallow in the experience of the odd, undulating gait. Schneider whipped past on his djinni summoned horse. The djinni cantered after on another showy white animal.
There was an odd thing about the desert. Close to the sea, it held some semblance of life to air. Some semblance of humidity. But it took no time at all, once the shores of the sea had been left, for the air to become unbearably arid. Kall-Su had never been in a desert before. Not a true one. He rather disliked the arid, desolate stretches that resembled a desert back home. This was --- most definitely not the same. This might, he thought despairingly as the day wore into evening and the land grew more and more barren -- be a most unpleasant journey.
Abu said that they had not even entered the real desert yet. It was not a comforting statement. The first night out it was cold. He didn't mind the cold. It was a relief. The djinni made a small tent for them. She wanted to create a large one, but it was decided, after much exasperating argument, that to do so would only frighten the superstitious natives. They stared warily enough at the small one that had cropped up a the edges of the larger caravan's camp.
There was a fire there and the sound of laughter and music. The natives celebrating their first night out. Malice was drawn to it, and soon after Schneider. Kall was not of a mood to engage in festivities. He preferred to sit alone within the tent, dwelling on the mistreatment of one he loved. His imagination was all too vivid.
Of course it was his fault. He hadn't been in a state of mind to dwell on it on the voyage here, and before that he had been too frantic in his efforts to pursue her captor's that he hadn't had the energy to spare. The last two days he had found the time. He had left her to fend for herself in that ravaged little fishing town. He had ridden off to indulge in his reawakening magic and left her undefined and because of it she was suffering now.
He curled his fists in the silk of a pillow and squeezed his eyes shut when the images wouldn't go away. He hated being helpless to save her. He hated the knowledge that it would be many days still before he could even begin to track her down. He hated the fact that Schneider looked upon this as a whim of his. A thing that he had decided to humor him in -- instead of throwing wholehearted support.
He heard Malice's laughter. A humorous retort of some sort from Schneider that signaled their return to her djinn summoned tent. They had repaired whatever bad spirits had effected them earlier in the day. The flirtations were almost painful, they were so lude. Schneider might as well sleep with her, for all the verbal sex they were having. He shut his eyes, feigning sleep, in no mood to deal with either of them.
The rustle of silk and cushions as they settled on the other side of the tent. The low murmur of Malice's voice as she whispered something in Schneider's ear, then giggled. Schneider's deeper chuckle of appreciation. More positioning of bodies -- and then unexpectedly from Schneider.
"I said I couldn't." Annoyed. A huff from the djinni. Then -- silence. And eventually he did fall asleep.