THE SUMMONS
The word reached the Judge Magister Drace as she was preparing for her bath. Her servant had helped her unbuckle and unstrap the heavy armor which was her normal presentation and identification to the world. The armor had been designed especially for her by one of the foremost fabricators in the city and gave her the unyielding and fierce appearance which was appropriate to her status. Once she was encased in that carapace neither her age nor her sex was discernible. She became the image of justice, swift and certain. Now her outer shell loomed over her, its parts freshly polished and carefully placed on the rack which permitted it to dry and maintain its sullen sheen.
She stretched, long and luxuriantly, glad of the relief afforded by the easing of the heavy armor. It was, she reflected with a wry smile, one way to develop muscles, something like hours of lifting weights every day. With a grunt of pleasure, she stripped off the padded tunic which served to protect her skin from being chafed and bruised by the pressure of the metal plate. It was wonderful to be able to rub the sore places and scratch the itching ones. The under padding was supposed to help but there always spots where the metal rubbed against tender skin raising blisters and welts. With a relieved sigh, Drace began to unwind the bandaging which held her breasts tight against her rib cage. The other parts of her discarded undergarments lay in an untidy heap to the side.
The sound of the door opening and closing distracted her from her concentration. No one was supposed to intrude as she prepared for her bath. A muffled clanking from behind the draft screens told her that the one approaching was a judge - only judges made that particular sound when they moved. True to her deductions, Gabranth strode into view. He was a fellow Judge Magister and she would have recognized him by his armour even had he not removed his helmet and carried it under his arm. His gauntlets dangled from his belt and he looked tired.
"Good! I was hoping to catch you before you took your rest. What word have you had of young Larsa?"
"Nothing unusual. He seems safe enough at the moment. I'm keeping a careful watch when I can. And you?" Drace continued to loosen her breast bindings.
"Things look all right to me so far." He paused, appearing a little uncertain. "There was another..."
What Gabranth was about to say died in his throat as an excited servant burst into the room, overturning two of the screens. "Judge Magister! You have a message from Lord Vayne!"
Both Judges reached for the envelope before Gabranth drew back, realizing it must be for Drace. The two exchanged startled looks. A message from Vayne was rarely benign. Drace carefully broke the seal and read the single line on the paper.
"He wants to see me. Now. Well, at least it's not in his own hand so it's not one of those secret meetings."
"The ones where somebody tends to disappear?"
"Exactly."
"He wants you now? At this hour? Why?"
"How should I know? Damn! I wanted my bath."
"Go on and take the time. He won't know." Gabranth was feeling truculent. He had carefully planned this encounter and now it was ruined.
"He'll know. The note says 'at once'." Drace refastened the bindings around her breasts then resignedly bent to pick up the discarded undergarments she had recently doffed. "Whew! These stink. Vayne won't notice under the metal but I do and I hate it. They're clammy and I don't have time to send out for a fresh set." She pulled the clothing on and adjusted the sleeves and leggings on her limbs. "At least, my armor's polished."
Gabranth had been thinking. "Drace, why do you think he wants to see you in such a hurry with no warning?"
"Maybe he can't sleep and wants me to sing him a lullaby." She was too annoyed to guard her tongue.
"I doubt it's about Larsa. He'd want witnesses if he were going to do something with the boy. With his history, he can't afford any more suspicions. So anything about Larsa, he'll do in the full light of day and with convincing reasons." He was still turning the thoughts in his mind, his gaze unfocused.
Suddenly an alarming idea occurred to him. "Drace, has he ever ... you know ... made advances ..."
She spun around, laughter shining on her face. "Vayne? To me? You got to be kidding. I doubt he even sees me as a woman. What made you think of that?"
"The summons. The hour. The strangeness of him sending for you like this."
Drace scoffed, "He just likes to do things because he can. He likes having power and showing it off. I'll mention you know where I am. He didn't say it was a secret. That'll warn him not to try anything."
Gabranth did not smile in return. "Yes. That should assure your safety. He's not going to do anything if he thinks he'll get caught."
By now, Drace had stepped into her rigid uniform. The rack was designed to make it possible to do so and long practice had taught her to slide her slim body into the assembled carapace without assistance for the most part.
"Here. Give me a hand with the gauntlets. I don't think I'll put my helmet on. Just have to take it off again at the door."
"Want me to comb your hair?"
"Oh, damn! I forgot to do that. Please."
He picked up the bone comb from the dresser and carefully drew it through her hair, smoothing the soft strands back from her face and stroking them flat with his palm. "There. Now you look presentable for our master." He patted the crown of her head and leapt back as she half-jokingly swung her heavily metaled arm at him. "Will you tell me what he wanted?"
"Sure. I'm curious myself." She sniffed at the air surrounding her and suddenly grinned. "You know what? I'm not worried about my virtue. Nothing turns off passion faster than day-old sweat mixed with metal polish."
Gabranth clapped her on the back, hearing the clang of his vambrace against her armour. "I never thought of that. Not that I doubt you can take care of yourself under any conditions, but every edge..."
Drace twisted her head to look up at the man from under her brows. He was a good companion, one she was glad to have on her side, one she could trust in a world of shifting allegiances. She strode out into the corridor and down the passageway to the courtyard. The two allies continued on their way, side by side, laughing easily together to disguise their apprehension.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
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