The Belromanticum

Chapter 47

Early summer in Castellandria often brings rain. This summer, my first since returning from Brennan's farm with Maireili, was no exception. Maireili's integration into the household had gone smoothly, as the messages Lysethe and I exchanged paved the way. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the ghoul had swiftly bonded with Sarakiel. The two were already close friends and enthusiastic lovers.

On the day this tale begins, Arkohnus and Faustan played by the doorway out onto the main balcony patio. The two brothers were inseparable, with the younger worshiping the elder. They had been magnanimous enough to allow little Malycent to be with them. She would follow them anyway, and attempt to imitate everything Arkohnus did: this was something that would last into her adulthood.

As they played, the little night eft, Kajah, flitted overhead, never far from Faustan. The sight of the creature filled me with a sentimental ache, both for the loss of Oddrin and the joy my son took in the creature's presence. His tutelage at the hands of myself and his mother Lysethe had already begun. The first task one had to teach any wizard was not to use their power without meaning to, and the boy had proven himself in this regard.

A short distance away, sitting at a table by the window, Zhahllaia and I faced off over the Alishum board. Zhahllaia had me cornered, and it was only a matter of time before I was finished. Even Quiyahui knew, leaving my side to curl up next to Sarakiel.

Sarakiel shifted. Her belly had begun to grow with our second child. This pregnancy had burrowed under Tanyth's skin, as she had yet to conceive, and thus Clan Abibaal still lacked an heir. In her more vulnerable moments, she fretted that she was barren. Even in brighter times, I knew this weighed heavily upon her. I kept thinking that it would happen soon, but it never did. The fact that Sarakiel was already on her second had plunged Tanyth into a black mood.

My Kharsoomian bride had chosen to express her frustration by fencing with Shaluvia downstairs in Azureview's amata, a traditional Kharsoomian chamber used for the practice of combat. I had considered watching them, as the sight of two, sweat-soaked Kharsoomian beauties, both competing in the nude as was the custom in their lands, was an alluring one. However, I was content for now to wait, as I knew Tanyth would find me later, covered in a sheen of perspiration, demanding I put a baby inside her.

"Second immortal to satrap's chariot," Zhahllaia said. I moved the piece as she instructed. My mind was in the amata, lingering over the shining curves. Zhahllaia's voice broke through my lascivious reverie when she spoke again. "That is game."

"What?" I blinked and looked at the board. She was right. My sultan was surrounded. I tipped the piece over.

"This is your reward for not paying attention," Zhahllaia said, mischief dancing in her gold-flecked eyes.

"No lecture about how important Alishum is? About how it measures one's intelligence?"

"You've heard them all before."

"You're right."

"Of course I am." She clasped her hands at the small of her back. Zhahllaia always carried herself with quiet authority, which was often a strange sight when combined with her nudity and petite stature. Her eyes met mine and softened. "When you look at me that way it's difficult to remember what I was saying."

"I cannot help it."

"Some things never change."

Makgrumman stepped into the room. He was a relatively new addition, hired when I was out with the Night Delvers. I returned to find him minding the house, keeping everything tidy, cooking, and answering the doors. I learned later that he had been a point of contention between my wives. Tanyth, being a proper Kharsoomian lady, wanted to purchase a slave. Sarakiel found this horrifying. Despite Zhahllaia having no issue with slavery, and Lysethe still considering herself a slave, Sarakiel prevailed thanks to pure practicality. Slavery was technically forbidden in the Great City, though they would not interfere with those brought beyond the walls. Obtaining a local for the work meant a man would need to be hired rather than purchased.

Makgrumman was the result. A dwarven man in his late middle age, his hair and beard were immaculately styled and always glistening with fragrant oil, his mustaches styled in elegant braids over his cheeks and lifting to his temples. He was always dressed properly in waistcoats and breeches and went barefoot indoors as was the custom of the house. I had been home for a little over a year and I was still getting used to him.

"Visitors, my lord," he said to me in the sonorous accent I wasn't sure was genuine. "They said they were the Mythseekers."

"Impossible," I said, standing up from the table. Zhahllaia followed me to the doorway. I stepped out and there they were, summer rain dripping from their traveling cloaks. My companions in the earliest days of adventuring, dear friends, passionate lovers, and the finest companions anyone could ask for, standing on my doorstep. They were all older, each subtly changed in the nearly two decades since I'd seen them last, but undeniably themselves.

"Bel!" Alia threw herself into my arms, wrapping her arms and legs about me and planting a passionate kiss on my lips. I was always closest to the little rogue, and apparently that had not changed.

She was short enough that more than once had been mistaken for a tall halfling. She felt even smaller, and there were those that said I had somehow grown during my exile. She was lithe and strong, and age had eliminated what fat remained on her body, leaving behind graceful sinew and taut muscle. Her once coppery hair had faded to a strawberry blonde, and she had cut it short. The way it framed her angular face suited her. Her emerald eyes sparkled with mischief and freckles covered her cheeks and nose. She wore elven leathers in greens and browns, and I recognized the pair of magical shortswords on her hips.

"Alia, if you would," Velena said sternly.

"Sorry," she said, breaking our kiss, then giving me a peck on the nose before jumping down.

"It's good to see all of you," I said, "and a surprise. Please, come out of the rain."

Velena embraced me, and I forgot everything. She looked human, but there were signs of her otherworldly ancestor. Her black hair was longer than I'd remembered it, but her eyes were the same pale brightness that was not quite blue and not quite silver. Her skin was ivory, and covered in intricate tattoos marking her allegiance to otherworldly powers. She had gained weight, her already voluptuous figure even more sumptuous and soft. She wore a black gown and cloak, displaying generous cleavage. She kissed me, but it was brief.

She stepped away and my eyes met Xeiliope's. The amazon had changed the least. She was tall and muscled, still displaying the long-lasting youth of her people. Her blonde hair was shorter than it had been, but other than that it was like no time had passed. Her golden eyes might have held the disgust from before or they might not have- I could have imagined it. She wore her valkyrie armor and carried her spear Daybreaker.

"Hello, Belromanazar."

"Xeiliope," I said, unsure of what to do.

The last person at the door was a massive half-orc. His skin was a pale green, his long black hair hung in a mane and was threaded with iron. He had a friendly sort of face, handsome in a rough way. He wore a costume of leather and fur.

"Cull?" I asked.

"Bel," he said, stepping forward and clasping my forearm.

Cull Callen was one of the Redmarks, an allied group of adventurers. He and Velena had been romantically involved whenever our groups' paths crossed.

"Give your cloaks to Makgrumman and come sit by the fire. Dry off." The dwarf whisked the cloaks away.

"A servant," Velena said. "We heard you had become a lord, but I couldn't imagine this."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. "Yes, well. It's been some time."

"You have to tell us that story," Alia said.

"I have a feeling it's going to be nothing but stories," I said, bringing them into the main room.

"Papa? Who are they?" Arkohnus asked, coming up next to me. Faustan and Malycent were behind him.

"Introductions are in order, thank you, Arkohnus. These are my old friends. Alia, Velena, Xeiliope, and Cull. You all remember Zhahllaia, and this is Sarakiel. The great serpent is my familiar, Quiyahui. And my children, Arkohnus, Faustan, and the little one hiding her face is Malycent."

Alia dropped to her knees, a smile lighting up her face. "Children! I can't believe you have three children!"

"Five actually. One is off adventuring and the other is out with her friends."

The kids were shy, but they took to Alia. She had a natural way with them. I suspect because she was so small, they saw her more as a child than an adult.

"Familiar?" Velena asked. "Where is Oddrin?"

"A story for a more melancholy night," I said. "Makgrumman?" The dwarf, in the manner of all great servants, was simply there when I said his name. "Would you please inform Tanyth, Lysethe, and Maireili that we have guests? And then see to refreshments?"

"At once, my lord."

"Sarakiel!" Alia exclaimed, embracing the darkling. "You look wonderful."

"Thank you, Alia. You've hardly aged."

"And you're a better liar than I remember."

We all settled about the fire. The clatter of the rain outside made the gathering an intimate one. The children, curious about the new arrivals, crowded around. Cull fascinated them. I suspect because he reminded Arkohnus and Faustan of their elder brother Threch, and for Malycent, she was interested in whatever they were. Makgrumman returned with water and wine which he mixed for all of us.

"What brings you to Castellandria?" I asked.

"You," Velena said. "Your ship had been lost, and we thought you had died. We mourned you. Then, not long ago, we heard that the Heacharids had attacked Castellandria, and among the defenders was a wizard whose storm magic cut his enemies down and raised them as wights. It could only be..."

"...our wizard," Alia finished with a smile.

"I have never seen Alia so pleased," Xeiliope said.

"I am glad you've come," I said, and I was only faintly surprised at how glad. "You'll stay here of course."

"It's not an imposition?" Velena asked.

"Of course not."

"I'll prepare the guest suite," Makgrumman said.

"A servant!" Alia said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Very posh."

"Sarakiel is skilled in matters of coin."

"I am fine," Sarakiel said with a modest wave of her hand.

"Really?" Velena asked. "I should have you handle some of my money. We have some reserves, but we have been living off them."

"Are you still adventuring?" I asked.

"Recently retired," Velena said, with a glance to Cull.

"And the two of you...?"

"Married," Xeiliope said.

"Married!" I said, smiling. "That's wonderful. Congratulations."

"Thank you," Velena said. "Cull and I drifted apart, but we kept coming back together again."

"What of you?" I asked, indicating Alia and Xeiliope.

"We have our loves," Alia said. "Even Xeiliope."

"Where did you settle?"

"Stellanmark," Velena said, naming a duchy in the eastern part of Esmia on the edge of the Nachtwood.

"Bel, why don't you introduce me to our guests?" Tanyth and Shaluvia came into the room, both entirely nude, their crimson skin shiny with sweat. My Kharsoomian bride sauntered to my side and I slipped an arm about her slender waist. I noted with some amusement that all four guests were staring, and only Cull and Xeiliope were making any attempt whatsoever to hide it.

I introduced Tanyth, and soon after Maireili and Lysethe when they came in. We settled in, drinking wine and eating the fruit and smoked meats that Makgrumman brought. The evening turned to night, and the meandering conversation continued on.

I was unsurprised to see who gravitated to whom. Alia was instantly besotted with Tanyth, Velena seemed to enjoy Sarakiel's company the most, and Xeiliope appeared to get along best with Maireili. Cull was intimidated by Zhahllaia, but by the way he looked at her, he was nursing an attraction. I could hardly blame him.

Soon, though, the night was upon us and the Mythseekers were stifling yawns. "Forgive me," I said. "You traveled today and need rest. Makgrumman can show you to the guest suites."

"Thank you, Bel," Velena said. "I will feel more myself tomorrow."

"Bel, where are your manners?" Tanyth scolded. She turned to the Mythseekers and said words that clenched over me like a vise. "Would any of you like the services of Bel's bedslave?"

"Slave?" Velena gasped. All four of my guests looked upon me with a mixture of horror and disgust.

I held up my hands. "It's a long story and I'll explain in the morning. For now, understand no one is here who doesn't want to be. Offering the use of a bedslave is a Kharsoomian custom. She will be more than happy to lay with one or all of you, individually or in a group, but you don't have to feel obligated."

"No," Xeiliope said flatly. I felt like she had been thawing over the course of the evening and especially when she spoke with Maireili, but whatever progress had been made was instantly lost.

Velena glanced at Cull, teeth worrying her lip. "You're sure she's willing?"

"More than willing. I tried to free her more than once and she refused."

"Then yes," Velena decided, smiling at her husband.

"I'll have her sent to you. And tomorrow, I'll show you the city."

***

***

The following morning, I was up early, and drinking my chocolatl by the embers of last night's fire when Ujaala passed me on the way to her chambers. She stopped and embraced me, and in the cool morning her warm body was a comfort. She was nude save for her collar, and her body was a fragrant mélange that spoke of her previous night's loveplay.

"Did you enjoy yourself last night?" I asked.

"Very much, my lord. For his size, Cull is gentle and considerate."

"And Velena?"

"She chose to only watch."

"That's strange."

"Perhaps she doesn't enjoy the eupheric pleasures?"

"No, she does."

Ujaala frowned. "She told Cull to enjoy himself." The frown melted into a grin. "And he most certainly did."

I kissed her cheek. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, my lord."

"Yes, I do. Now eat something and bathe. They might want you tonight as well. For that matter, Alia might want you."

"Alia is...which?"

"The little one with the red hair."

Ujaala's eyes sparkled. "I can hope, my lord."

I chuckled and gave her buttocks a playful smack. "Away with you."

She kissed my cheek and walked away, her hips swinging like a pendulum. My gaze fell to her round buttocks and I found myself fantasizing. She looked over her shoulder and batted her eyes at me and I laughed again.

"I live to serve, my lord," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

***

***

On the first day, I took my houseguests to the Order of Owls. I foolishly thought that if I showed them this place, they might decide to stay in Castellandria. The irony is of course that my time as a resident in the city was closer to the end than the beginning, and I would soon travel to Zuunkhorun to break the back of the Heacharid Empire on a mountain of restless dead.

I escorted them through Castellandria's endless streets to knock on the door. It opened, revealing Skeevan, the gnomish majordomo. "Lord Belromanazar, welcome back. And you've brought guests."

"These are Xeiliope, daughter of Xelyphe, Alia of Freeport, and Velena Grimm of the Mythseekers, and Cull Callen of the Redmarks."

"Your former companions," the gnome said, sweeping into a low bow. "I am Skeevan, your humble servant whenever you are within these walls. Should you wish to seek membership, I am certain his lordship will be pleased to relate the specifics. In the meantime, you are his guests, and welcome here. Please, come this way."

We followed Skeevan up the staircase into the labyrinthine halls of the club. "Who is here?"

"Iago and Clodomyr are playing Zatrikion in the lounge. I believe Clodomyr is up two games to one. Mother Ulrika is in the offices attending to business. I am expecting more members to filter in through the day. Summer brings adventurers to the great city, and they inevitably find themselves here."

"Take us to the lounge if you would."

"What is the process to join?" Velena asked.

My heart gave a kick. "It's about proving your status as an adventurer. It would be easier for you than it was for me because you were in a party with a voting member in the Owls. I can verify all of you were adventurers. The process would be more than a formality, but not much more."

We entered the lounge, where most of the Order's gatherings took place, and found Clodomyr and Iago hunched over a Zatrikion board. Zhahllaia claims, and I believe her, that Zatrikion is a corrupted form of Alishum. She would add that it had to be simplified for people outside of Qammuz: I love Zhahllaia, but she can be somewhat arrogant about her old empire.

In any case, the two old adventurers were entering the endgame, with only a few pieces remaining on the board. Clodomyr was a warrior, and though he was in his seventh decade and was growing old for a human, he was still a dangerous foe. He'd proven that on the walls of Castellandria during the Heacharid siege, where he sent more than his share of invaders to their reward. Though he was a skinny, white bearded old man, he knew every trick and maneuver in combat. He'd mentored my son Threch through the siege, and I'd developed a great deal of affection for the old warrior.

Iago was a halfling and a wizard. He wore his gray robes, his hat perched on the back of the chair behind him, revealing his curly mop of hair. He sucked on a long-stemmed pipe as his keen eyes probed Clodomyr's strategy for weaknesses. His age was hard to determine, as though we wizards arrest time with our magics, certain habits can confer the appearance of years. Oftentimes, we appear both old and young. His familiar, a briarchild, sat under the chair and ate from a plate of cheese. As we entered, the little creature raised a block of the stuff in a toast to Quiyahui.

"Good day, gentleman," I said.

"Not now, lad," Clodomyr muttered. "I have the halfling right where I want him."

"So you think," Iago said, blowing a line of smoke that wreathed about his head. For a moment, I glimpsed an army marching through the haze.

"Best leave them to it," I said to my companions.

Skeevan returned with wine. "Saumont vintage," he said, offering us goblets.

"Thank you, Skeevan."

"I took the liberty of informing Ulrika you are here. She will join you presently."

We sat down at the far end of the room to let the two men finish their game. "This is a clubhouse for adventurers," Cull observed, as though such a thought had never occurred to him.

"Castellandria attracts our kind," I said. "Some retire, others merely wish a pause. The Owls give us a place to be."

"I like it," he decided.

"The Redmarks would be welcome to join. When I mentioned your party during my initiation, they knew who you were."

Cull sat up straighter. "That is nice to hear."

Velena stroked his arm. "You were a brave group."

"Do you still speak with them?" I blurted.

"Bel misses his dragon princess," Alia teased, seeing through my motivations instantly.

I felt my cheeks grow hot. "I think of Allegeth from time to time, it's true."

"I have not seen Allegeth since the Redmarks went our separate ways. The last I heard of her, she returned to the mountains."

"Xeiliope still sees Thrandlas now and again," Alia said.

"He is a sweet man," Xeiliope said.

"You don't see Rose?" I asked.

"Not as often as I like. She returned to Freeport, and without a wizard, that's a long road from Esmia."