Cathexis: Necromancer's Dagger (3 page)

Gavin looked confused and puzzled, but he
replied as diplomatically as possible. “Milady, he seemed very
adamant about obtaining your personal attention on a question about
his wardrobe. He has just finished his bath and is not sure what
his attire should be for tonight’s festivities.”

Elizabeth turned back to her crystal glass
as if unconcerned and answered, “Tell him he’ll just have to wait.”
She continued to polish the glass while watching the servant in the
reflection of the clear crystal.

He remained standing while shifting his
weight back and forth from foot to foot, nervously. Still trying
not to smile, Elizabeth held the crystal up to the light while
inspecting the shine and said, “Is there something else I can help
you with, Gavin?”

Resigned to his fate, the servant prepared
to leave and said in a heavy tone, “No, milady.”

Elizabeth waited until he started his turn
to depart and finally said, “You look positively morbid with your
shoulders slumped down like that Gavin. Cheer up, Jatar won’t do
anything to you, though come to think of it,” she added, taking
hold of her chin thoughtfully, “rulers have been known to kill the
bearer of bad tidings.”

Gavin stopped, and if possible his
expression grew even more pitiful.

Elizabeth suddenly smiled warmly at the old
servant as she said, “Would it make you feel better if I came back
to see Jatar with you?”

With a look of relief the servant nodded and
said, “A great deal, milady.”

“Well then, let us depart immediately, but
in
return,
I will require your aid
in a little plot.”

With an all-new rueful
expression,
the servant asked resignedly, “Plot,
milady?”

“Oh yes,” she said with a mischievous little
smile, “there is always a plot.”

Gavin addressed Jatar nervously and recited
the words Elizabeth had told him, “Milady bade me inform milord,
and I quote, `If you wish to see me immediately then come down to
the dining room dressed as you are, otherwise, don’t bother me.’
”

“She said WHAT!” The nearly naked Lord Jatar
Ardellen exclaimed in a shout.

Gavin dutifully started to repeat
Elizabeth’s message, “If you wish...”

“If that’s what she wants, fine,” Jatar
interrupted and stomped toward the door in his undergarments. The
angry ruler of Lindankar grabbed the door handle and flung it open,
and then his body started forward a half-step before he saw
Elizabeth in front of him leaning on her shoulder against the
doorframe with a smile peeking out of her eyes.

She raised her eyebrows as she gave his body
the once over from the top of his head to the toes of his feet and
then commented, “Isn’t that outfit going to be a little drafty for
the dining hall?”

Jatar’s expression changed rapidly from
anger to surprise and then to understanding and finally back to
anger again, but
this time,
there
was a hint of playfulness, “Oh ho, my little prankster thinks to
amuse herself at her husband’s expense!”

Jatar
leaped
forward and grabbed Elizabeth around the thighs,
which elicited a startled yelp. He then straightened up and bent
her over his broad shoulder while heading back into the room.

“That will be all for the moment,” Jatar
calmly told Gavin as he passed the old servant with his wife’s rump
high in the air.

“Thank
you,
milord,” Gavin answered without changing his normal
straight-faced
expression. He then turned and
departed the room, closing the door behind him as he left.

As Gavin walked away he heard a high-pitched
scream and then peals of laughter. The playful royal couple would
have been amazed to see the brief smile of approval flash across
Gavin’s wrinkly old face before his expression resumed his normal
competent and serious demeanor.

Sometime later Elizabeth was helping Jatar
dress for dinner within their chambers when she said, “Given who is
attending our dinner party tonight this could turn into a very
interesting evening, I feel a tension in the air.”

Jatar watched his wife’s concentrating face
as she adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Your Kirnath abilities
tell you this?” he asked.

“No, it’s my woman’s intuition. Are you
prepared for the friction that is bound to commence with both the
Ambassador of
Amak
-Ta-Dol and the
Lord of
Olsk
in the same
room?”

“Of course, but I shall endeavor to mediate
between them so that a new skirmish does not break out in our very
Banquet Hall. I’m more concerned with Lord Tysol of
Datoria
. Frankly, I was surprised to see that he
accepted our invitation; he must know that it was only sent as a
token. He has made no secret of his opposition to our attempts to
start a coalition of Lords. He’s been particularly adamant in
opposing a united effort to free
Autrany
from the Usurper.”

At the mention of
Autrany
, the country of Elizabeth’s birth, she stepped to
the window and gazed out
at
the
city lights. Her spirits were in anguish at the thought of her
proud people under the grip of a usurping tyrant. Her powerful aura
stirred in the depths of her brown eyes as strong emotion welled up
in her heart.

“When are we going to come to their aid,
Jatar? They are my people as well as these,” she said, gesturing
across the lights of Tarnelin. “It has been nearly a year since the
Usurper’s army marched across
Autrany
. If only we’d seen it coming, we could have
helped defend them against the foul attack,” she lamented.

Jatar shook his head sadly, “But we didn’t
know and the attack was so sudden. You were pregnant and about to
give birth. It was the perfect time for the Usurper to move. We
will do something about that tyrant soon, I promise. In two days I
will convene the first Council of Lords. With the united support of
our
allies,
we will be strong
enough to liberate Autrany and its people. When Autrany is free of
the tyrant we will place a member of the Hevarnan blood line back
on the throne,” he promised.

“If only some of my relatives survived. I
was sure some would have made their way to our protection by now. I
can only hope that they are living in hiding within Autrany’s
occupied cities,” she replied and added a silent prayer to G’lan
for their safety. “But for Michael I would have gone in search of
them myself,” she told him quietly and lowered her head in
grief.

A moment later Elizabeth looked up and there
was a sudden hardening in her features. “Jatar, don’t let Lord
Tysol disrupt your plans. This new council could solidify the
friendships you’ve created since you became Lord of Lindankar.
Let’s make Autrany’s sacrifice count. We’ll turn this tide of evil
around and rebuild Autrany as part of the new alliance!” she
exclaimed as she got her mind back
on
positive things.

“Then the first thing we’ll need to do is
stifle Lord
Tysol’s
mouth,” Jatar
noted with annoyance. “He sows the seeds of contention within the
ranks of the Lords by spreading rumors and lies. His dislike for me
is well known, so it doesn’t bother me all that much, but I have
heard rumors of him spreading lies about you. These lies hurt our
cause,” Jatar
stated
while
fingering the hilt of his sword.

Elizabeth was intrigued. “What have you
heard?”

“I haven’t heard anything specific, just
rumors that you are ‘controlling’ me with your ‘dark’ powers. He
infers that I am a puppet on the throne enthralled by an evil
Sorceress. He hasn’t said it to anyone we could use as a reliable
witness, he’s too careful about
that;
but if he ever makes that mistake in my presence
I’ll call him out,” Jatar finished, gripping his sword hilt until
his knuckles showed white.

“Jatar, you must not put yourself in danger
on account of my honor. You are too important to the negotiations.
If we are ever to have peace in the lands and stop this constant
destructive warfare someone must take the lead and show an ability
to understand and compromise with his neighbors. You’ve worked so
hard over these last few years and we’re finally starting to see
real progress. If we were to lose you now, besides breaking my
heart, it would undo everything we have accomplished,” his
beautiful wife pleaded.

“Well not everything, we have ‘accomplished’
a beautiful son named Michael, and after our tryst this afternoon
perhaps we’ve ‘accomplished’ even more! Besides, it’s Michael’s
first-year
birth celebration, so I
refuse to be unhappy, no matter who is here,” Jatar said to try and
lighten the mood. He was tired of discussing the depressing
machinations of Lord Tysol.

Picking up the flow of his thoughts
Elizabeth put on a sly smile and said, “Well it’s hard to argue
with that kind of statement.” She winked at him and added, “Did
milord want to ruffle my clothes again, or may I be excused to don
my dinner apparel?”

Jatar stood rubbing his chin with one hand
and appraised her slim rounded form with one eyebrow raised. “Hm,
given that choice...”

“To dinner, before the guests tear each
other apart, besides,” she added with a teasing smile and tilt of
her head, “there’s always later tonight.
For now,
why don’t you wait for me in the south hall
alcove while I throw on some clothes? It won’t take too long.”

Lord Trask was a large man; he stood two
full hand spans over six feet. His large face was nearly covered
with a thick red beard that went down and nearly touched his chest.
On his way to the banquet
hall,
he
found the slim athletic form of Jatar standing behind a chair in an
alcove where he was waiting for Elizabeth. Jatar was looking out
the window at a palace garden while thinking about his son and the
future. Two chairs and a small table were before him facing the
window.

“
Berelle
,
it’s good to see you again,” Jatar
said
and greeted his foster brother with a huge grin that
proved he really meant it.

“And you Jatar, it has been too long,” Lord
Trask replied with an equally large grin, his voice a deep baritone
that sounded like it had the power of the north winds of his
homelands.

Jatar stood back and took a good look at his
big friend and he had to look upwards to do so. The large man was
dressed for dinner in an understated long jacket of thick coarse
material and matching pants of dark blue. The shirt was high
collared, buttoned at the neck and lacked the ruffles that were the
style of the time.
Berelle
reached
up with his right hand and pulled at the stiff collar,
uncomfortable in the dress clothing.

Jatar grinned at his huge friend as he said,
“How can a man who ventures around the cold north in a rusty chain
mail shirt that outweighs a small horse, look so uncomfortable in
simple cloth?”

“I’m used to good steel, but this… why is
this collar so tight?” he growled, pulling forcefully at the
confining material around his neck.

Jatar slapped his friend on the back to no
effect and said, “Thank G’lan you never change, Berelle. How are
Pricilla and the children?”

“She’s doing well, but she has reached the
sixth month of her term making the journey here too strenuous. That
is the reason I must depart immediately after Michael’s investment.
Jerome and
Calt
are growing strong
and
Brelt
is almost ready to learn
the sword,” Lord Trask reported with a father’s pride.

“Come now,
Brelt’s
what, three years old?” Jatar asked, amused at
his friend’s optimistic pride.

“Yes, but he’s another one like
Calt
, a hellion. His mother is about to pack
it all in and become a hermit. Just before I left he got into the
stable yard and managed the neat trick of rolling around in the
manure; I don’t know why.
Eventually,
he must have tired himself out because he
went to bed. Meanwhile, his mother was frantically looking for the
boy. Jatar, you should have seen the look on Pricilla’s face when
she finally found him by following the smell of manure. He was in
bed with his clothes on, covered head to toe in excrement.”
Berelle's
smile was broad and
proud as he recounted his son’s latest adventure.

Jatar poked Berelle in the chest with his
forefinger as he said, “He reminds me of you. Remember the four
years that you,
Pellev
,
Verdew
and I were fostered
together? It seems like we were in trouble more often than not. I
recall one episode during the year we spent here when all four of
us got into the
snerg
pens.
Remember how we pretended to be knights on battle mounts as we rode
our sordid, snorting and squealing stallions? When we were through
I think there
was
more mud and
snerg
manure than
boy
on what walked into the palace. After they
scoured
us, with both water and
words, I remember Grandfather putting us over his knee in hopes of
beating some brains up into our heads.”

Laughing, Berelle clapped Jatar on the back
with his big meaty hand. The blow caused his friend to stagger
forward a half step. “I don’t think it worked, at least not the
first time, but it wasn’t the only time your grandfather put us
over his knee before he died. It’s too bad he isn’t around
physically to do the same for my boys; I could use the help. If
your Grandfather hadn't passed away I would have sent for him to
straighten out young Calt. You know, it’s been a while since I’ve
had a chance to speak with your Grandfather... would you mind?”