A/N: Thank you all for reviewing
Ahn-Li: I I bet the real Raistlin will be awfully sorry he missed all the "fun" of this chapter... (See title.) ROFL
Hilary: Yep- Yep. Here ist comes. I know the cliffhanger was a bit mean, but I hope you enjoy the solution...
Pmacca: Murphy's law works well in this story. What can go wrong, will go wrong...
Blackjack: Got the wrong minion, eh? How did Echo's Children put it? "Oops oops, extravagant curses..."
Guan: Glad you liked it. Something like that just had to happen...
Dally: ... and with Dalamar interfering the misunderstanding rises to new heights of confusion... And thanks again for the title of this chapter. (big grin)
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Chapter 30 - A Flamboyant Threesome
The room was dark and quiet. Nima lay on the bed, eagerly waiting for the woman to start with the lesson. The lack of movement relaxed her. She felt tired, having been on horseback all day. Her still too untrained muscles ached and the was overwhelmed by tiredness. Sleep would have been welcome now, only the prospect of learning magic kept her awake. She heard a rustle of sheet as if somebody would discard cloth. The Freya-lady surely took her time preparing her trick. Dalamar normally didn't make such a long fuss over it beforehand when he cast a spell. She yawned. The lady better begun soon or she would loose her battle with sleep.
"Boy, I am tired." Nima said, addressing no one in particular. "I shouldn't have laid down, now I just want to sleep."
Nima turned onto her stomach and likewise into her usual sleeping position. Meanwhile the lady slipped under the blankets next to her. Nima yawned again. Maybe the Lady hatten gotten tired too? Probably. They should have at least kept the candle burning.
"Oh you are tired, too?" the kender asked. "You wanna sleep over here? Well, ok... I don't mind, although it can get a little bit intimate, you can just have that part of the bed, you can show me the trick tomorrow and luckily I usually don't move much in sleep and- Aiiiiiich!"
Nima's speech ended abruptly in a surprised squeak, her eyes suddenly wide open, when a warm body curled around her.
"Intimacy is just what we're looking for, right?" the Freya-Lady purred.
Nima was utterly confused. What a strange kind of a teaching method. Was that really about magic?
Instantly the women started massaging Nima's tensed shoulders. Teaching or not teaching, this was definitely pleasing. Especially since her muscles in the back had been sore for days. Nima relaxed under the treatment and even gave little sounds of appreciation, thus unintentionally encouraging the female behind her to turn things on.
Suddenly Nima felt the skilled hands not only on her back but in places were there shouldn't be any hands. And right now, these hands had begun to strip her. Soft kisses were planted on her neck. That definitely went too far. Somehow the lady had managed to open all the right buttons, and with one quick move the velvet robe was yanked from Nima's shoulders.
"Hey, Lady!" she cried astonished and struggled against Freya's grip on her hips, trying to get away from the clinging woman.
"Let me go!" Nima yelled and, in her haste, fell down on the floor with a loud thud. In the meantime Nima's eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could see the Lady's silhouette kneeling on the bed, probably looking down on her.
"Why are you suddenly so shy?" Freya asked. "I thought you couldn't wait to learn the Palanthian Fingermove."
"Not when the Palanthian Fingermove involves my tushy!!!"
Nima crawled back against the nearest wall trying to get the damned robe back on, fumbling and fighting with a sleeve in the darkness. Meanwhile Freya jumped from the bed, approaching her.
"I surely know some good tricks to cure your shyness."
The Lady chuckled somewhat amused setting Nima's senses on alert, finally. Something had gone terribly wrong. When the young kender felt the Lady's weight on her lap and slender fingers that stroked her neck possessively, she did the first thing that came into her panicked mind.
"DALAMAR! HELP!"
Instantly the door flew open.
For Dalamar the walk had not been half as relaxing as he had hoped. Though the air was cooling down from the heat of the day and thus gaining a more tolerable quality, he couldn't find the peace of mind he had hoped for. Somehow he had the feeling that his master wouldn't keep out of trouble for long. Besides, he expected some observer nearby. Up to now the mysterious force that sent the relentless eyes had restricted itself only to watching them from a safe distance, hiding mostly. Still the situation could change every moment.
Dalamar knew, if he went back now into the tavern room, thus having the dubious pleasure of practically bathing in the smell of human sweat, alcohol and roasted meat, he would likely develop a nasty little headache. However, that was more preferable than the headache his 'venerable' Shalafi would give him, when left alone for too long. Each day he felt less like an apprentice or colleague but more like an elder brother keeping watch on a little urchin. Dalamar allowed himself one soft sigh as he entered the noisy common room and watched out for Raistlin.
His Shalafi was nowhere to be seen. Having expected something similar, Dalamar guessed that he was probably not a second to soon. Who knew into what trouble Raistlin had gotten himself now? Maybe he could still prevent the worst from happening. Just a second later, Dalamar's concern gained the quality of utter paranoia when he saw their table deserted, but the staff of Magius still leaning against the wall. Something must have happened. No matter how insane Raistlin was, Dalamar was perfectly sure he would never -Never!- forget his staff. Even if a gap to the Abyss opened right under him, Raistlin would not leave the staff of Magius! Fortunately no one seemed to have made an attempt to steal it, or the result would have left a scene of destruction. He hastened to the staff, taking it. But where had Raistlin gone? Somebody must have forced him to leave the staff of Magius, due to a dominating spell or other means of intimidation. Whatever had happened had to have witnesses. And indeed, there were witnesses. It was only a matter of seconds to learn that Raistlin had left with a local wench. An unbelievable tale. What business did Raistlin suddenly have with loose women? With a bad feeling Dalamar all but ran towards their sleeping quarters. If this was not a romantic intermezzo, it could only be a trap, an ambush. What if the silent observers had just turned into attackers, putting on a disguise as harmless girls, luring or forcing Raistlin into following them to take advantage of his current helpless state? Raistlin had many enemies. And among them some quite powerful individuals. He berated himself, he should have anticipated something like that to happen sooner or later, why had he left his Shalafi alone and unguarded? How could he even have assumed that the common room would be a safe place?
The moment the elf had reached the sleeping quarters, he heard a loud knock coming from their room, as if a body had just fallen on the floor. So the battle had already begun. Blast! Dalamar was only few metres away from the door, when he heard Raistlin crying out his name in utter panic. Expecting everything from an ogre to a death knight, Dalamar swung the door open, the spell of acid arrow already on his lips.
The chamber was dark and in the flickering torchlight from the floor, all that Dalamar could see were two figures in a corner, caught in some kind of struggle. Raistlin's white hair shimmered slightly in the darkness, a shade of silver amongst the shadows. The attacker sat on his Shalafi's knees, maybe just about to strangle him. Whomever was attacking, Dalamar decided it was best to overpower the enemy first and ask questions later. He began to chant the syllables of the spell and felt the beguiling force of magic inside him, focusing, ready to unleash lethal power. One hand slid into the pouch with rhubarb leaf and adder's stomach in a reflex. Dalamar hadn't even to think about it. He had done this a hundred times before. Only, this time the pouch wasn't there. Shocked, he noticed it was missing. The magical words had been chanted but Dalamar couldn't set the spell in motion. Forced to change his strategy and begin another spell, the elf realized that the opponents in the corner had meanwhile stopped fighting. They both stood still, either dumbfounded by his sudden appearance or by the failed incantation. Dalamar tried to use their confusion to his advantage and prepared a magic missile, a spell that luckily didn't demand a material component. Just a short sentence in the sacred language of magic and shining arrows materialized on the tip of his fingers. While the elf cast the spell, Raistlin's attacker jumped up, backing to the wall.
"Hey, what kind of perverts are you?" cried a shocked female voice. "I said I don't serve two!"
The woman was followed by his Shalafi who came to his feet only to throw himself into the line of fire.
"Dalamar! NO!" he shouted, gesturing at the elf to stop his spell exactly at the same time as Dalamar's lips concluded the last syllable. In this moment the elf realized that the missiles would hit his Shalafi instead of the woman. Regarding his master's frail constitution, with no shield to protect him, they would leave him severely wounded at best. Desperately, the elf tried to keep control of the magic even after it had been hammered into form and had been given a target. It took an immense amount of mental strength to keep the thin link between caster and spell. Dalamar knew, he couldn't prevent the spell from going off any longer and in less then a second made a decision. There was only one way left to counter the spell at this point - taking back the magic through himself. Then the spell went off, gone out of control.
One glowing arrow still shot forth into the advised direction. It hit Raistlin in an instant and forced him to tumble forward onto the bed. The other arrows remained at Dalamar's hand a little longer as if they tried to slip back into his fingertips. Suddenly they all turned, crashing into the elf's arm and chest. With a gasp of pain the elven mage stumbled backwards into the nearest wall.
It was silent in the room after that. Dalamar staggered clutching his chest and panting slightly. His master rose and turned towards him. Blood dripped along his right arm.
"Wow! What happened?" he cried out.
The female on the wall winced. Only now Dalamar noticed that she was practically naked.
"You are crazy!" she stuttered, staring at them both. "Absolutely insane!" her voice grew louder. "I'll cry for help, I'll cry for-"
She was cut off when Dalamar whispered something and made a gesture, although one hand was still pressed against his chest. He smiled darkly when the effect of his spell sat in, causing the woman to scream. Since he stood still near the door, he closed it by giving it a light, casual kick. His Shalafi and the girl watched in awe and horror as shadowy tentacles suddenly emerged from the wall behind her, catching the female's limbs and torso, tying her towards it. Of course she screamed in terror.
"Shut your cursed mouth!"
Dalamar hadn't very spoken loudly, still the menacing sound of his voice seemed to echo through the room, cutting through the women's blur of panic and frightening her enough to fall silent. Raistlin wanted to say something but was also cut off by his apprentice.
"And don't YOU speak either!"
It worked. His Shalafi sat back on the bed, subdued.
The door was closed now, still their fight had been more than just audible. Dalamar listened at the floor outside. He only hoped that the evening was early and the dwarven ale strong enough to keep the other customers in the common room. It seemed they were lucky. No footsteps could be heard. No hero wannabe tried a dashing rescue.
With a smirk the elf turned around to his company. The smirk was somewhat forced as the pain from the wounds had not lessened, and he had to support himself on the wall to prevent himself from sinking down on his knees. Now it was definitely time to get some answers to his questions. In the meantime his Shalafi had finally done something useful by lighting a candle on the nightstand.
Finally Dalamar could take a closer look on their visitor. A young human woman, barely older than twenty. She wore a red, transparent nightgown that showed more then it actually hid. Now she shivered in the hold of his shadow servants, feeling uneasy and terrified. However, during the moments of waiting she seemed to have gained some confidence.
"Who are you?" Dalamar coldly began his interrogation.
"Freya." she answered with a hint of defiance. "And I will still cry for help unless you dont have at least a hundred good reasons of finest rounded steel to convince me otherwise."
He had to give her the credit for being quite tough, trying to negotiate while being tied to a wall by a spell of blackest magic. It didn't take him long to get the whole story out of her. She didn't have the guts to lie to him now that he had demonstrated his power. When asked, Raistlin confirmed her version. All in all it just seemed to be an incredibly idiotic misunderstanding. There was no reason to keep the wench here. For a second he pondered killing her. He couldn't allow her running around and telling tales about the two terrorizing mages to every trader in reach. Anyway, he didn't feel much enthusiasm at the idea of having to get rid of a corpse tonight either. He concluded that murder would complicate the situation more than necessary. So Dalamar proposed a deal.
"20 coins and you will forget that you have met us."
"50 and I don't tell anybody of the spellcasting."
Well, she was persistant and daring. Shaking from fear but stubborn enough to try to profit. She would probably have been very formidable had she been able to rise to another class.
"30 because I'm impressed by your impudence and no word to anybody."
He couldn't believe that he was really doing this, trying to bribe a whore. His Shalafi had followed their dialogue open mouthed watching them both. The wench gave in. Dalamar reached for a pouch of coins, took some out and threw the rest at her, at the same time letting down the spell that held her.
She caught the money and left the room in a hurry without looking back, stopping only once to grab her dress. Freya silently swore to herself never to hit on a mage again.
Finally the two mages were alone. Dalamar closed the door behind the girl and staggered to his baggage to go through his belongings. He found three little bottles. Resigned, he handed Raistlin one and commanded him to drink, likewise swallowing the content of the other two himself. Strong healing magic rushed through his body instantly, closing the lesions and restoring his strength. Raistlin's cut on the shoulder also stopped bleeding.
"That cost me three of my best healing potions for nothing." Dalamar muttered, not hiding his annoyance. "You owe me something for that one, Shalafi, you owe me something big."
Raistlin nodded.
"I guess I do. I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come out like this. Now, I don't think the Freya-Lady meant something bad, I just don't understand why she changed her plans and didn't show me the house-keeping-magic. I'm confused."
It took some seconds until Dalamar proceeded the meaning behind his Shalafi's words.
"What exactly were you two talking about during my absence?"
Raistlin told the tale. In reaction his elven apprentice sank down on his bed, burying his face in his hands. This was absolutely unbelievable. How oblivious could somebody be? For a second, Dalamar felt the urge to cry. Why did things like this always happen to him? Why?
"Shalafi." he tried to say as calm as he could. "When she was talking of 'keeping your bed warm' she didn't speak of a spell but of sex. Do you get it, Shalafi? MATING! Not MAGIC!"
"Oh." Raistlin blushed. "I didn't know that. Sorry."
Dalamar discarded his boots and upper layers of clothing and slipped under his blanket. He still needed to investigate some things. Where his components had gone for instance. But now he was tired, the healing potion, no matter how potent, couldn't fully cure the exhaustion from what his body had gone through in the last twenty minutes. Quickly, he spoke an alarm spell he usually secured their camp with and lied down. He could have killed Raistlin in that moment.
"What ever you say, master." he mumbled instead. "What ever you say." and after a while: "And put that damn candle out. It's late!"
TBC