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Authors: Sharon Green

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Epic

Competitions (20 page)

BOOK: Competitions
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“What a wonderful idea that was to bring a couch into the practice building,” he murmured, slowly pulling her close to his chest. “Now we not only have privacy but comfort, two things we ought to begin using at once.”

His mouth lowered quickly to hers while his hand went behind her, and a moment later he was quickly raising her skirts in back in order to reach her body. She held to him tightly as she moaned out her need for him to hurry, but with his mouth over hers it just came out as a noise. And then he
had
reached all the way under her skirts to touch her, and the feel of his hands on her flesh drove her wild.

But rather than taking her immediately to the couch, he made her stand there with him while he used his fingers to stroke her desire to absolute frenzy. She didn’t need that encouragement and he knew it, but he seemed to enjoy forcing her to wait. She
didn’t
enjoy it, but she always forgot what he was like until it was too late. Next time she would remember, though, and next time she would find someone else to be with.

Someone she hadn’t already had. That thought made her even hotter, and she moaned again as she struggled against being kept from the couch. She wanted every man she hadn’t already had,
had
to have them or she would die. No man who attracted her could be allowed to refuse, or then she wouldn’t
have
him. They were all hers, every man she’d ever lain with, but they weren’t enough.

But she’d come closer to having enough once she and the others were Seated on the Fivefold Throne. Then no one would ever be able to refuse her anything, which was only the way things were meant to be…

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

Kambil was sitting quietly and drinking a cup of tea when Oshin arrived, more than an hour late. But the instructor still maintained the same sedate pace as always, possibly because of his size. Oshin’s greatest pleasure was a long, leisurely meal, and he indulged his pleasure as often as possible.

“I was wondering whether you’d heard the news, and now that I see you I’m certain you have,” Oshin said by way of greeting, lowering himself into a chair opposite Kambil’s. “You would never believe the rumors that are afloat out there.”

“Yes I would, because I’ve probably heard every one of them this morning,” Kambil countered with a sigh as he watched Oshin pour himself a cup of tea. “One version had everyone in the Weil household murdered in their beds, and another version had each body mutilated by perversions of all five of the aspects. The only point each of the stories agreed on was that Lady Elfini was definitely one of the dead. You don’t happen to know the actual details, do you?”

“It so happens I do, and that’s the reason I’m this late,” Oshin replied after taking a long swallow of his tea. “After hearing the wild tales being repeated by my household staff, I knew I’d never regain any semblance of balance until I learned the truth. And I do happen to know quite a large number of people, so I stopped at the Weil estate to see if any of them were there as investigators. It turned out I knew two of them, and they asked me to stay for a while to help calm the house’s staff.”

“So that they might be more easily questioned,” Kambil said with a nod as he leaned forward. “So what did happen? Or have you promised not to discuss that?”

“No, my friends are very practical people,” Oshin said with a mirthless smile. “They know there’s no hope of keeping any of the story quiet now, so they don’t even mean to try. As briefly as possible, the facts seem to be this: Homin returned yesterday afternoon accompanied by Delin, packed a bag, then left again with Delin to stay at
his
place. Elfini was annoyed even before that, but when the two young men left she was absolutely livid. Her mood worsened the later in the day it got, and by the time Aston arrived home—later than expected—it wasn’t even safe to breathe in her vicinity. She stormed out of her ‘sanctum,’ ordered Aston to follow her, then stormed back in.”

“And of course Lord Aston obeyed,” Kambil said wearily. “I was once introduced to the man, and couldn’t believe the difference between his public face and his private feelings. Very frankly I couldn’t bear to stay near him for long.”

“Yes, that sort of … mismatched emotions is very difficult for one of us to stand,” Oshin said, sending a brief flow of compassion. “Love is pain and self-hatred is acceptance, and both are pleasure. I’m very glad to say I don’t understand it, and hope I never do. At any rate Aston was a fool and went with Elfini willingly, and she apparently took out all her anger on him. The servants heard him screaming for a very long time, and then there was nothing but silence.”

“Did she kill him?” Kambil asked with brows high, then slowly shook his head. “No, I would guess that she didn’t, not after she’d worked off most of her outrage. She was a woman who always needed to be in complete control, and whipping Lord Aston within an inch of his life would have returned that control to her.”

“That’s a very astute summation,” Oshin said with a nod of approval. “Aston was stretched out face down on a whipping rack to one side of the room, and apparently Elfini left him there unconscious. She went to the dining room and ate alone, then returned to her sanctum. That was the last time anyone saw her alive.”

“Except for whoever killed her,” Kambil pointed out. “One of the stories said a masked intruder broke in, and Lord Aston might have seen him. Is there any truth in that?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Oshin said, his sigh rather deep. “Aston apparently remained unconscious all night, and wasn’t even lucid when a physician called by the guard finally managed to rouse him. Elfini had gone much too far, and he was badly hurt. He might have died as well if one of the staff hadn’t gotten up his nerve to knock on the door of the sanctum this morning. Elfini always took an early breakfast at precisely the same time every day, and when she didn’t appear the staff was worried.”

“And when the servant got no answer, he probably just walked right in,” Kambil said, leaning back in his chair again. “It would have been out of character for Lady Elfini to lock a door in her own house. I wonder if the servant went searching because he was worried about
her
, about his lord and master—or about his job.”

“You seem rather cynical this morning, but I suppose disappointment does produce cynicism,” Oshin said, studying him with calm blue eyes. “And you
are
disappointed, but I’m afraid I don’t understand why. Would you care to explain?”

“It’s … idealistic foolishness,” Kambil apologized with a vague wave of his hand. “I know we’re all human rather than perfection incarnate and that ordinary humans have problems, but this—I can’t bring myself to believe that someone in
my
world would do such a thing. Was she really … chopped into pieces?”

“She was killed with some edged weapon and was cut up rather badly, but not chopped up in any manner,” Oshin said, compassion flowing from him again. “The investigators are calling it ‘thorough’ rather than ‘enraged’ or ‘insane’ or anything like that. It’s perfectly possible that some vagrant broke in with the idea of forcing Elfini to tell him where the gold and silver was hidden. She thought she could handle him herself and therefore made no effort to ring for help, but she was mistaken, He realized he would get nothing out of her, so he simply killed her.”

“And that way it wasn’t done by anyone from
our
world,” Kambil said, trying not to send too much depression at Oshin. “We’ll all be able to go back to our comfortable little niches without needing to suspect our next-door neighbor of being a monster, but I wonder how true that explanation is. Could it
really
have been a vagrant, who is hopefully miles away from here by now?”

“I hope fervently that the answer to both parts of that is yes,” Oshin said, faintly echoing Kambil’s depression. “I think my friends mean to recommend adopting the conclusion in the report they give to the Advisors, and if the recommendation is taken, that will be the end of it.”

“We
hope
that will be the end of it,” Kambil corrected, then he stirred in his chair. “I suppose you’d like to get to the practice now. I’ll do my best, of course, but don’t expect anything extraordinary in the way of results—at least as far as a good performance is concerned.”

“I think we can afford to let you pass one day without practicing,” Oshin said, waving him back into his chair. “Our aspect has to be the most heavily touched by a tragedy like this, so take the day to regain your balance. And if you think more conversation on a different topic would help, I’ll be glad to stay for a while.”

“I’d be very grateful for that,” Kambil said, working to produce a normal smile while he shoved all his previous emotions aside. “There’s a question I’ve been wanting to ask, but the opportunity never seemed to arise. Would you mind if I asked it now?”

“Since we may never again have the leisure for casual conversation, you might as well,” Oshin agreed with a better smile than Kambil’s. “If it turns out to be too personal or too embarrassing, I’ll simply refuse to answer.”

“It’s not really anything like that,” Kambil said, letting Oshin’s amusement touch him. “It’s just that I noticed right from the first how really strong and capable you are with Spirit magic. That led me to wonder why you’re instructing me and the others, rather than being part of a group yourself. Or
does
that come under the heading of too personal and/or embarrassing?”

“Actually it’s neither,” Oshin said, refilling his cup after having drained it. “I thought you knew, but since you obviously don’t I’ll have to explain. Not everyone is able to become a member of a Blending, and it has nothing to do with strength. There are other factors involved, and one of the most rigid is age. Haven’t you noticed that you and the other members of your group are approximately the same age?”

“Well, I noticed we were all from the same generation,” Kambil answered slowly with a frown. “Is that the same thing, or am I missing the point?”

“The point is that people of the same age have a much greater chance of successfully Blending,” Oshin said, now reaching for one of the small cakes displayed on a plate near the tea service. “Widely mixed age groups have the smallest chance, and those beyond the age of thirty or so have no chance at all unless they’ve Blended before that. Your group and the others are all expected to manage it, so it’s nothing for you to really worry about.”

“I think my worry-compartment is too full at the moment to add anything else,” Kambil told him ruefully. “Tomorrow or the next day will probably be another story, but right now I intend to take your advice. I’m going to put everything unpleasant out of my mind, and enjoy my day off. Do you expect to turn the rest of your students loose as well?”

“Probably not,” Oshin said, using one of the linen napkins to wipe crumbs from his chin. “You heard about what happened so quickly because you live right in the neighborhood, so to speak, as do the rest of the members of your group. My other students live progressively farther away, so I ought to reach them before the news does. Which tells me I really should be on my way now.”

Kambil knew Oshin really had decided to leave, so he saw the older man to the door and then stood and watched his carriage drive away. He felt a lot better now, thanks to Oshin’s conversation, but was glad he hadn’t had to practice. He might not have been able to control the results properly, and that was very important now. Bron had repeated that to him at least three times the day before, so he couldn’t have forgotten even if he’d wanted to.

But there were things he did have to make himself forget, so he went back into the house and directly to his apartment. His life could very well depend on how good a job he did, since the results would affect the performance of his talent. And considering the other members of the group, he’d better do a very good job indeed…

* * *

Delin was finally able to return to his apartment once Homin was gone. The furor had continued for hours after the guardsmen had first appeared with their news. Homin had been sound asleep in one of the guest apartments, and it took a while for the servants to rouse him and bring him down to speak to the guardsmen. Delin had already come down to find out what the commotion was about, and so had been there to witness Homin hearing the news and promptly fainting.

They’d had to send for a physician then, but Delin could have told them that Homin was all right. The man’s muscles had all tensed at once when he’d seen the guardsmen, probably thinking that Elfini had sent them to drag him home. When he learned that Elfini would never bother him again, his relief had undoubtedly been so great that he’d fainted.

Delin walked to a chair and sat, the smile on his face wide and finally out in the open. Homin should have thanked
him
for the relief he’d felt, since it had been his efforts which had caused it. He’d left the house last night after everyone was asleep, returned to the Weil estate, and then had done what he’d had to. His group was now safe, and before Homin had left, the pudgy man had whispered that he meant to practice for the rest of the day—as soon as all the investigators and guardsmen were gone. He had to be at home to make sure his father was properly cared for, but aside from that he would spend his time practicing.

Which was just what Delin wanted him to do. Their progress as a group was the most important thing right now, so nothing could be allowed to stand in their way. There was just one regret…

Delin lost his smile when he thought about that, and frustration rose up to choke him with anger. He remembered leaving his own house, remembered reaching the terrace doors of Elfini’s “sanctum” again, and remembered starting to go in. But from that moment until he found himself leaving the estate again, nothing but blankness filled his memory. He’d finally managed to do what he hadn’t been able to do earlier, the blood on his clothing and on the long knife he’d held testifying to that, but he couldn’t remember the act itself. He’d suffered brief periods of blackout before in his life, but never at such an inconvenient time!

BOOK: Competitions
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