Page 6 of The Ivory King

Carry me from the benightedness of the unenlightened,

Within your learned gates I find haven,

Never let my mind part from thee,

Shelter me in wisdom, sanctity, and literacy,

Lift me above the beasts to rule over them with gentle grace,

This I ask in the name of Ihdos, lord of all he surveys, wisest of all the gods.”

The first of many that would see us kneel, stand, sit, kneel, stand, sit over and over until we moved from the sixth hour of morn to the eighth. When the cleric said the final prayer, we filed out, the restless children of the party guests charging through the hunters to be scolded by their undermatrons.

“Is it just me or does Cleric Fanan grow more monotone with each passing season?” I asked Luchas and Lariam as they appeared on either side of me.

“His liturgies lull us to sleep instantly. The only reason we did not nod off this morn was because we have things to share with you. Come!” They each took an arm and steered me into the stables, where our horses were being readied for a day in the woods. They would be outfitted in standard riding saddles, aside from Bonnalure’s of course, but they would wear leather protection from the knee to the pastern to protect their lower legs from the thick underbrush they would be moving through.

I smiled at the stable hands as the twins hurried me to Atriel’s stall. The dapple mare whinnied at me in greeting. I was then shoved into her stall, the gate closing with a snap, and pinned to a stout wooden wall with one twin’s hand on each shoulder.

“Pay close attention. This is what we’re going to do,” Lariam whispered with a leer that should have warned me off of this plan, but sadly, it did not. Perhaps my grandfather was correct when he said that while books taught us much, nothing passed on more wisdom than age.

Another aggravated huff blew over my lips.

This was beyond annoying and wholly stupid.

The hunter’s horns had blown ages ago, calling those in the woods to head in a northerly direction, for the stag had been winded by the hounds. I’d lagged back, pretending my horse was lame, and then as soon as the others had bounded off, I rode like a wind demon southward. Finding the pond and the split elm was simple enough. I’d let Atriel meander to nibble on the top of fiddle ferns and dark grasses. She drank out of the beaver pond and then found a tree to lean against, much like I was doing.

Then we waited. For days, it seemed, but in reality, perhaps the sun had moved only an hour’s width. During that time, I’d swung back and forth like a pendulum. Eager to go one second and refusing to quit before the ruse could run its course. V’alor and my other guards had been given leave to take the day off as who needed guarding in protected noble woodlands? So the guards of the various high-born guests had decided to visit the village. I’d ridden off after breakfast without so much as a backward glance at V’alor or his men, but I could feel his gaze on me. He would be worried I was sure, for he was nothing if not a mother hen who clucked over her one chick.

According to plan, Larium would send one of the ditchers to find V’alor in town and relay that he’d seen Lord Aelir riding a limping horse south with a sordid type on my heels. I was rather sure that would tug the head of my guard away from any ale or dice game he may be involved in.

I took a sip from my waterskin, returned it to Atriel’s saddle, turned about, and found my face buried in someone’s chest. I yelped in fright when a huge man pulled me into a bear hug, fumbling for the short dagger on my belt. Arms pinned to my sides, I was about to lift my knee to crush his stones when he planted a wet kiss on my mouth. He tasted of old roots and dirt.

“Hello, Lord Aelir,” the big man said when the kiss ended. “I’m Riley, and I’m here to bugger you.”

“I…what?!” I barked, squirming like a worm on a hook, as Riley, who was possessed of a handsome face, fine dark curls, and big brown eyes, stole another kiss. And then another, his grip never relaxing as he licked a hot, wet path over my cheek and neck. The sensation was exactly like that time when a cow had licked my face. I nearly shouted at him to stop, then it came to me that I was to be enjoying this groping, and so I wiped the spittle off my cheek onto his shirt then began making lewd sounds. I’d been with a courtesan before. I could recall the noises that the woman made when I sank in, spurted, and fell off all within the time it took to sneeze. She had gotten no pleasure, I was sure, but by Ihdos, she sounded as if she were being well-loved.

“You taste like butter and honey biscuits,” Riley mooed, I mean, moaned into my ear before he plunged his tongue into my ear canal.

I shuddered. “Oh, oh, yes, lick my ear hole,” I cried out, then winced at how truly stupid that sounded. It seemed to spark Riley, though, for he crushed me tighter to the tree to grind on me. The man was well-endowed. No wonder the twins were so fond of the brute.

“I shall lick your tiny hole as well,” Riley growled, and then he howled into my ear with such volume it made me wince. His thick arms came free from my middle and then he was gone. In a blur, the big man was there, and then lying on the forest floor, blood gushing from his nose, the very sharp point of V’alor’s sword resting under his chin.

“Youdareto manhandle the heir of the vills of Renedith?!” V’alor snarled like a mountain cat as Riley began to screech and kick his legs. “You are a vile and heinous bastard and shall suffer the fate of all that dare to—”

“No!” I yelled, shaking off the stupor. I darted around V’alor, arms out, and stood over Riley. “He was not doinganything that I did not wish him to do!” V’alor gaped at me as if I had just said I’d visited the moons. “Lower your weapon.” V’alor stared at me with an expression that I could not decipher. “I command it.”

That made his dark eyes flare but only for a flash of a second. His weapon left the underside of Riley’s chin.

“No pretty noble prick is worth being beheaded,” the poor, bloody smith’s assistant staggered to his feet and melted into the woods, leaving a blood trail on the dead leaves and spent pine needles like a stuck boar. I folded my arms over my chest. V’alor sheathed his sword, his brown eyes sparking with ire.

“You came into the woods with that half-troll for a liaison?” V’alor incredulously asked, and I nodded. Strongly. “Have you lost all reason, Aelir?!”

“I have lost nothing but my patience.”

He closed the distance so quickly that I blinked and stepped back. Right into the bark of the tree that Riley had just held me against.

“And I mine!” He stood over me, a large man with fire in his eyes. Not as large as Riley, who, I was certain, did not have a drop of troll blood in him, but much larger than me. “I think youregress instead ofprogress in your maturity!”

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