The Belromanticum

Chapter 62

Time passed as it was wont to do. Zuunkhorun receded in my mind. I could spend days without thinking of the war. Despite infrequent bouts of melancholy, I was happy in Bashamailon. My youngest children first grew past their need of me constantly, then hourly, then daily. Then the three of them embarked upon the first stages of their lives.

Ten Ghosts took Wind to the lands of the Theva, where he would learn the ways of his people. She returned without him, and when he finally journeyed to Bashamailon again, it was with the name Vorghal's Path. I saw much of his mother in him, a quiet young man whose eyes beheld tomorrows, often at the expense of today.

One of the great joys of children is how they surprise you. Despite being the daughter of two warriors, Basila apprenticed herself to a chirurgeon. She applied herself to a wide variety of disciplines and soon was renowned in Weilsart, a town in an adjacent valley.

Salexys took her vows and became a novice priestess. She was avidly pursued by a number of gentlemen all of whom wanted to be the one to continue her line. Zhahllaia advised her on finding a proper match, one who truly loved her. Though Salexys loved and respected the djinn, she grew annoyed with the counsel. She would marry eventually, but that was long in the future.

Though we took no precautions, neither Allegeth nor Ten Ghosts bore another child in this time. Lysethe had returned to her night tea, but had begun to idly speak of forgoing it.

I sought direction. True to my word, I had returned to researching Zhahllaia's condition. I quickly recalled why I had stopped, as I hit the same wall that had stymied me before. In retrospect, what stopped me was so obvious. It was not a wall at all, but I did not know that then.

The day Olyrah came before Allegeth, I was more restless than usual. We sat in the throne room, the line of supplicants reaching the door. Allegeth and I sat upon our thrones, Melisant and Zhahllaia flanking her and Tanyth by my side. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, calling me for an aimless wander through the hills. But I didn't want aimlessness. I wanted purpose.

My attention wandered down the line. I had grown accustomed to the people of Bashamailon. Most were human, but we had substantial populations of dwarves and gnomes and even hobgoblin quarters in a few of the larger towns. Many people displayed signs of mixed ancestry, a slight green complexion here, an exceptionally thick beard there. Rarer still was a patch of scales or eyes with a vertical pupil, though far from unknown.

My attention fell upon a gnome. She was, like most of her people, about half of my height. A shock of hair like a flame sprouted from her head. She had the classic pear-shaped gnomish figure, though I thought her proportions were lovely. She wore a dress cinched tightly about her waist, making her modest bosom stand out, while full skirts enhanced the curve of her hips and posterior. She carried a leather satchel over her shoulder, identifiable by a few stains and leather containers as one for an alchemist. Her face was pretty in a bright, summery way, with wide-set green eyes, a narrow nose, and a small mouth set in an absent-minded grin.

I found myself enamored of her. I had, after all, never been with a gnome and my natural curiosity for all things feminine often ruled my better impulses. I wondered what an alchemist would come before her queen to ask. My attention returned to her many times, and once, I she caught me. Our eyes met, and I gave her an encouraging smile. Color rose in her cheeks, showing off the freckles than ran over both. She gave me a smile and a slight incline of her head.

Allegeth listened to each supplicant, dispatching one or other of her courtiers on the errand. Finally, it was the gnome's turn.She curtseyed. "My name's Olyrah Vaine, and I'm an alchemist from Laasel. I come to humbly ask Your Majesty for assistance in a task that's beyond me."

"An alchemical task?"

"With apologies, no. A magical one. I'm somewhat versed, simple hedge magic and the like, but I'm quite out of my depth. I'm an alchemist, mind, and if it isn't wet or powdery or explodes, it's a bit beyond me."

Allegeth broke into a smile. "I understand. What is this task?"

"There's a...I can't quite explain it, Your Majesty. I'd like the eyes of a wizard in front of it. A proper wizard. I was hoping you might send the Red Hound. She's come Laasel way before, when the wolfkin come out of the peaks. But then I seen you sent her in the other direction."

Lysethe had already been dispatched on an errand, looking for a pair of children who had been lost.

"Perhaps if time isn't of the essence?" Allegeth said.

Olyrah shrugged. "Not sure on that subject, Your Majesty. Worried it might have waited as long as it can, if you take my meaning."

"I will go," I said.

"My love?" Allegeth asked.

"She needs a wizard and we have one here."

Allegeth nodded, turning back to Olyrah. "My husband will assist you."

"Your Majesty, I wouldn't presume to take the time of the prince consort."

"He has volunteered. It is done."

I rose from my throne, kissing each of my wives in turn. Tanyth murmured into my ear, "She's quite beautiful. Enjoy yourself."

"I have a mystery to solve," I murmured back. "And I love you."

Olyrah fell into step next to me as we made our way out of the castle. The morning sun was bright and Quiyahui was little more than an iridescent ribbon in the distance. "How did you come hither?"

"Took a carriage, Your Highness. Twice daily and a modest fee besides."

"Can you ride?"

"Ponies or men?" she said, and then blanched. "Begging your pardon, Your Highness. My sense of humor isn't what you think of as refined."

I broke into laughter. "Good, I could use a sense of humor."

"Well, then the answer to both is aye."

"Good. Come with me."

We made our way down the stairs into Kaibéliard. Quiyahui could have carried us to Laasel, but I did not want to trouble her. She never liked bearing passengers and since we had come to the mountains, she liked coming down from the clouds less and less.

Instead, I took Olyrah to the royal stables, where the master was only too happy to release a horse and a pony for the two of us. I had a moment of wishing for a proper qobad, but I have spoken at length upon the supremacy of the Kharsoomian riding bird and will not trouble my readers with another lament.

The journey to Laasel would take several easy days. The roads were well-maintained and we were never more than an easy day's ride from an inn. In this place, at this time, I had no need for a bodyguard. My enemies were dead or far away in the ruins of Aucor. My thoughts were far from the Rising Shadow, but they would soon return. For now, though, my spirit was light.

On that first day, as we rode west out of Kaibéliard, Olyrah spoke, "I did not think to call the prince consort."

"You wanted a wizard. Aren't too many of those."

"I'm not complaining, mind. Merely that I wouldn't demand royalty."

"I am not truly royalty. My master found me in a forest."

"But you've the title now, Your Highness."

"Belromanazar is fine."

"Your Highness is shorter and I'm a short lass."

I laughed. "As you wish."

"You're as royal as any of them, I expect. Well, not as royal as Her Majesty of course."

"You love your queen."

"Of course," she said without any hesitation or ceremony. "I celebrated with the rest of Laasel when she wed you, and again when your daughter was born. That week I must have drank half my weight in cider, and not the small stuff you give to babes."

"We were pleased when Salexys was born as well."

"And a priestess her! The pride I feel for her was overwhelming."

"You thought I was a good match for Allegeth?"

"Well, I admit there was some concern about you. A wizard all the way from Aucor, and that place not known for any but legions of frothing maniacs. And you, with these other wives, here to wed our virgin queen."

"I am not from Aucor."

"I know that now, I do, but when you came, that was what they called you. A prince from far Aucor. Tell me, where do you hail from? Your accent's a muddle, but by the looks of you, I'd put your origins in northern Chassudor somewheres. Esmia maybe."

"I am from Rhandonia."

"And you admit it freely, with no duress! What you lack in breeding you make up for with honesty. I knew you were a fine match for our queen."

I burst out laughing again.

"Good thing you found that funny," she mused. "I understand that south of the Turquoise talk like that can get you strung up."

"And worse," I agreed.

"This other place you were prince of..."

"Zuunkhorun," I said.

"You are not prince anymore?"

"The proper title was tyrant."

Her red eyebrows went up and she uttered a low whistle. "Tyrant? Seems a savage place."

"Zuunkhorun was an island of civilization if anything. The title was just that, a title, a holdover from a more savage time. And to answer your question, I abdicated my throne. It had served its purpose."

"Never thought of a throne as having one of those."

"That is all it has. The Throne of the Dragon's purpose is the wealth, happiness, and safety of the people in Bashamailon. Zuunkhorun's throne has the same, but I turned it to darker purpose. And now that is over, and I believe I handed it to those who will treat it as Allegeth treats the Dragon's Throne."

"Giving up power once tasted is a rare thing," she mused. "You are a good match for the queen, you are."

***

We arrived in the town of Laasel one afternoon. It was the biggest town in a modest valley, and anywhere else I might have called it a village. A town center was little more than a single avenue, small farms and houses climbing into the hills to the north and west.

As we rode through the densest part of the settlement, locals waved and called greetings to Olyrah.

"That doesn't look like the Red Hound," observed one older man with a touch of green to his complexion and an impressive paunch.

"It's the Prince Consort himself," Olyrah said, sitting up straight.

"Your Highness!" exclaimed the man, bowing with some difficulty.

"No need to stand on ceremony," I said.

"You might fall over," Olyrah agreed. "This is Wendelbert, runs the local public house. When you'll be wanting a drink, it's his brew that'll line your belly."

"I'm pleased to meet you."

"I'll tap a barrel for Your Highness! Finest I've brewed!" Wendelbert vowed.

"Later," I assured him.

Now that Olyrah had identified me, the townsfolk began to gather. I tried to think of what Tanyth would do, waving to each and speaking a few words I knew would be inadequate. I longed for her effortless manner, but more, I longed for that moment when none knew who I was. Anonymity was a luxury I had forgotten.

We took a winding path off the main road that meandered into the trees covering the lower slopes of the surrounding hills. The scent of pine was heavy around me. This place was almost like forests of Rhandonia, but different enough that I could not delude myself into believing I was there. The air was thinner, the sky bluer. Not a single cloud promised rain.

Our destination was a cottage in a dell. It had a cozy ramshackle quality that looked at once intentional and haphazard. To my eyes, it looked like a dollhouse for children. Everything was sized for Olyrah, and thus half of what would be comfortable for me. I found myself wondering if I was going to be sleeping outdoors.

We dismounted, leading our mounts through the front gate. As we moved, I glimpsed another structure behind the first. I didn't imagine it was her lab, as most alchemists preferred to have those far enough away that if the worst happened, it would not take the house with it.

"What I want to show you is another half day in to the woods that way," she said, pointing up the path. "I've no wish to keep riding now. I need a bath and a meal and I expect you need the same."

Before I could respond, the front door opened and Olyrah's twin stepped out into the light. "We found the wizard then?" she said.

"We did. Ring the bell, I've tasks for all of us."

The other stepped back through the door and a moment later, a bell rang from one of the structure's crooked spires. Olyrah looked to me. "Homunculus," she said. "You must know of some of the secrets of alchemy."

"I did not know your skill was so advanced."

"You needn't be surprised."

"How many of you are there?"

"Six in total, including myself. I'm the original, of course."

"You are not," said another Olyrah, coming around the corner. She wore a peasant's dress, her sleeves rolled up. "I am."

"Still wrong," said the one who had answered the door, emerging once again.

"It doesn't matter," said the one who had escorted me. "Follow me."

Olyrah was a wonderful friend, but I never truly was able to understand precisely how her homunculi worked, nor which was the original. At times they seemed to operate with a single mind. At others, they were at odds.

My escort took me along a path around the side of the cottage. Her garden grew wild, plants and fungus in balance. It was a perfect alchemist's garden, cultivating as many of her raw materials as she could manage. She kept a small glass conservatory in the back as well, to grow those plants the climate couldn't.

More importantly, in the back I found the structure I had glimpsed from the front. Built in the same style as the cottage, its door was sized for me, and it was connected to the rest of the cottage by a cramped hallway. "This is where my human guests say," she said. "Main house is a little too small for your likes. You'd bump your head and elbows and I don't need to be responsible for that."

More Olyrahs gathered. Some were dressed for housework, others for gardening, and one came walking up the back path with the leather apron and stained hands of a working alchemist. There were indeed six in total as she had said, each one as lovely as the last.

"This here is the Prince Consort," said my escort. "He's a wizard fledged, ready to help us."

There were bows and such, and then the hive of gnomes went about their work. One escorted the mounts to a small pasture. They heated water for a tub that sat in the yard, while two others disappeared into the cottage. Soon bright herbal smells of food made my stomach snarl.

Olyrah opened the door to my quarters and I found a single room with a bed covered in quilts and blankets. It would not do to spend much time in there, but it would be more than adequate to pass a night of rest.

"Water is ready, Your Highness," said an Olyrah. I wasn't certain which, nor was I certain it mattered.

I went outside and found the steaming tub waiting with a cake of soap. A luxury certainly, but for an alchemist, a trifle. I nearly mentioned that I was quite capable of cleaning myself with magic, but I found myself curious and a tub of warm water was always a pleasure. I stripped out of my robes, boots, and loincloth, hanging them over a drying rack. I stretched, the cool mountain air bracing on my bare skin.

"Getting in, Your Highness?" asked Olyrah. "Or was you planning to pose a little more?"

I laughed, noting that three of them watched me as I climbed into the water. It sank warm fingers into my muscles, kneading the travel-born aches. I sighed, leaning back against the wall of the tub.

"Acceptable?" asked one.

"More than that."

"Even for royalty."

"You'll need to talk to the Olyrah that brought me here for that story," I said.

I cleaned myself, rising from the water before I'd leeched all the warmth from it. The air gave me a delicious chill, and a spell dried me. I thought of the rain in the Mixtayhua and wished I'd had that magic then. I am not certain I've ever been as cold as I was in those rain-lashed highlands.

As I donned my loincloth, two of the Olyrahs, my escort and the alchemist, disrobed. They revealed small, smooth bodies with lovely curves. Most interesting, was the fur between their legs. And it was fur, smooth and silky and thick, hiding the contours of their orchids. My inspection ceased as they climbed into the water, but then I was treated to the sight of their small breasts with their tiny, cherry-red nipples, slick and wet. One picked up the soap and as she began to lather the other, I knew that if I didn't look away quickly, I would stare.

I donned my boots and robes, settling down on the steps up to my chamber. Not long after, the other Olyrahs brought out food, a thick vegetable stew with rich brown bread, and a beverage that was tart like lemons and kicked like oghul. Eating outdoors by this cottage in the mountains, I found myself longing for a simpler existence. The gnome, or perhaps gnomes, did not mention the purpose of my visit, instead playing the role of impeccable host. I slept well that night.

***

Olyrah, perhaps my original escort, perhaps not, and I rode out in the morning. We traced a pathway along the hillside, and in places it plunged to one of Bashamailon's deep valleys. These are places where the peaks reach so high above that the valley floor is perpetually in darkness, save for a few blessed moments when the sun is directly overhead. The poets of the Infernium Peaks used these places as metaphors for the secret parts of the soul and I cannot think of a more appropriate image.

When the sun reached its zenith, we paused on the trail. She nodded to the crest of a hill. "It is beyond there, Your Highness. Prepare yourself."

She opened her satchel, withdrawing pieces that she assembled into a hand catapult. I had seen such contraptions many times. They were popular with alchemists, especially those who did not possess the strongest throwing arms.

"I am ready," I assured her.

Our mounts were cautious. Horses, and ponies for that matter, had none of the qobad's natural bravery. They were hunted as prey and they never truly forgot it. These knew that something lay over the crest of the hill and were loath to approach.

A scent hit me, a bright yellow-green. At the same time, a sickly sweetness bloomed over my skin. I must have shuddered, because Olyrah was looking at me. "You sense it."

"Magic," I said. Possibilities tumbled through my mind over what could be beyond the rise, each one stranger than the last.

"As I said, I needed a wizard."

"That you did." I reached out and a lightning bolt struck, burning the air white and leaving Ur-Anu in my hand. The Blackspear, forged from stone from the heavens itself to slay a god, stood ready to battle.

"Warn a lass when you do something like that," scolded the gnome.

"Forgive me. I am usually in battle..."

"Yes, well, you're far from battle now."

"You seemed to imply..."

"I don't know what I have!" She sighed. "Forgive me, Your Highness, I didn't mean to snap. You could have me in a gibbet couldn't you."

"I don't know," I said, frowning. "I'm not certain how much power I have."

"You were considering it then," she teased. "Me heart's settled. Come, tell me the nature of this thing."

We crested the hill. The sensations flooded over me, every one of them wrong. I smelled rich color, felt heavy scents, tasted throbbing sounds. I tried to push away the maddening impulses and merely see as a mortal would. Even that made little sense.

The path dipped low, into a tiny valley concealed on the other three sides by craggy peaks. The local mountains sported a wide variety of trees, from beech to pine to maple, yet what I saw within the valley itself did not conform even to that mixture.

"That is a xilquinal copse," I said, staring at a forested section on the eastern side. The trunks were silvery white and the foliage gold, impossible to mistake for any other tree. "They do not grow here. I did not think they grew anywhere outside the land of the elves."