Wandering through the busy halls, just a little heartbroken, Leah finds her way back to Seffon’s library. He is still there, reading from his magic books – or so Leah assumes, by the fact that he is pacing the perimeter of the room, muttering passages from a book, and gesturing at the walls to make faint glowing runes appear.
She knocks gently once he’s finished the loop and has set the book aside. He does not jump at the sudden noise, and just waves her in. Looking up, he sees her and deflates a bit. “You should still be resting. Healing magic isn’t an immediate fix, and can be undone if you put yourself through strain.”
“I’m just walking. But, if I must rest – ” Leah drops herself into one of the chairs, across from his. He makes a face, then softens it to a smile and sits down in front of her.
They sit in silence a moment.
“Jeno has apparently been under some sort of compulsion charm from the day after I was put in prison. That would make it almost two weeks, I suppose.”
Seffon flinches. “That can’t be healthy…or pleasant, if we assume that she was then forced to murder her husband.”
Leah grimaces. “He was fifteen; do we really say husband? Also, how is that not considered…a little too young?”
Seffon spreads his hands wide. “He was presented. I’m not saying I approve of his parents’ choice, but noble families often arrange marriages for their children when they’re ten or younger; fifteen is not unheard of. Most are not presented before they turn twenty, but Samson was the only marriage candidate in all of Volst, unless Jeno wanted to marry a fifty-year-old widower.”
“Was Ben-Lia really so eager to marry her off to someone in Volst?”
Seffon shrugs. “Possibly. We’re still looking into it, but our contacts are limited. I found the books, by the way.” He pulls out the two books Leah had mentioned. “Magic Heritages and The Histories. And, if it’s worth anything, the Duchess carries the family name; the Duke was born Dekhoi, a name which does not feature in the registry of born-magic users.”
“And Eschen?”
“Common born, from what I can tell. One of this school’s old students was a deserter from the Cheden military colleges; she might be able to tell us something more about him. I’ve sent word to her.”
Leah nods eagerly, then remembers why she came. “About Eschen, and Jeno…she has a bruise, on the back of her neck. She can’t remember the details clearly, but she thinks it happened from whatever spell he used on her. It made the room go dark, the same way it did when he used the truth spell on me, but it also made her feel separate from her body.”
“I wish you had told me about the truth spell earlier. The fact they used it as a first-resort tells us a lot about the sort of people we’re going up against – especially the fact that he chose that particular version. Speaking of…” Seffon mutters, already standing to go look along one shelf for something specific. He pulls down a newer book, and flips through. “There’s not a lot written on born-magic spells and techniques; mostly it’s up to the user how they channel their power.”
He reads a moment, then points out a section on physical activation of spells. “Got it. In essence, certain born-magic users develop a hands-on approach to magic use, where instead of words or movement being their channel, their body is their channel. The spell is less likely to go astray or be blocked using this method, and some prefer it for that reason. The drawback is that occasionally the activation is messy, and can cause damage to either caster or target; soreness usually, but on repeated use it can escalate to bruises or welts.”
Seffon snaps the book shut and puts it back. He resumes his seat in the padded chair, face grim. “He would have needed to renew the compulsion every day, at least. I’m not surprised it turned to a bruise…but it should heal like a normal injury.”
Leah is reassured. “With that out of the way…what’s our plan for the next few days?”
Seffon breathes deeply, then leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. “We get everyone ready for an attack, and then we watch. Double-shifts on the walls and the towers, hourly reports, scouts stationed in the countryside to warn of any approach. The farmsteads have been warned, and those unable to defend themselves will either abandon their lands and go into hiding, or come here for protection. The Hold will be crowded, for the next while.”
“And me?”
Seffon tilts his head to look at her. “I’d like you with me.” Leah raises an eyebrow but does not interrupt. “If the five are part of the attack, they will be the point of the spear; they will infiltrate the Hold while the larger armies fight on the field. They will be sent to assassinate, and their orders will be very clearly worded to that effect.”
Leah feels her face go cold. “I won’t be able to hold all of them off. I don’t want to kill them.”
“And apparently they don’t want to kill you.” Seffon keeps careful watch on her expression. “Solace told me the five were present for your fight with the captain. They were present, but they did not try to harm you.”
“They didn’t help, either.” This a bit bitterly.
Seffon continues. “I am not an offensive caster by profession, and I know only a few of the standard enforcement spells for warfare. My role will be blocking any scry attempts, and keeping the non-combatants safe. I feel your training would be best suited for that, as well – and if the five come for me, having you there would increase the odds of their…not killing me.”
“My training,” she scoffs, but Seffon’s face is sincere, and Leah eventually caves. “Fine. I know you don’t like talking about it, but that ice spell…” Seffon tenses, but allows her to continue. “That was evocation, right? Can’t that be used offensively?”
“If I want to be labelled a war criminal. Evocative magic is off-limits.” He thumbs the charms of his bracelet. “I only have it for situations where I or my family are in immediate and life-threatening danger, and even then I prefer not to use it until I have exhausted every other avenue.”
Leah frowns in thought. “Is summoning a torrent of fire also evocative?”
“Yes?” Seffon gets suspicious, and a little nervous. “That’s…awfully specific…”
“It’s something Eschen tried against me, during the fight.”
Seffon’s eyes widen, and he nods. “Solace said something like that, but she didn’t see the spell clearly enough to confirm.” He keeps nodding, but it seems more nervous than anything. Finally, he adds, “That should have killed you twice over.”
Leah reflexively reaches up for the bandolier she no longer wears.
“I don’t know where you left Lady Auzzo,” Seffon says, a little awkwardly, sitting back up. “But a room has been prepared for her, in the core of the Hold; well-protected and high up. I’ll send someone to accompany her there.”
“I’ll take her,” Leah says.
“Oh, will you? Do you know where the room is?” Seffon says sharply, with a raised eyebrow. He sighs. “I want you to go with someone from the Hold, just to be safe.”
Leah nods, lifting her hands in surrender. “Point taken.”
He looks for a moment as though he wants to say more, then turns away and nods one last time, curtly, straightening his posture. He calls in a guard, whom he then directs to lead Leah and Lady Auzzo to the latter’s room.
Leah fetches Jeno, and explains that her new room is ready. Jeno joins her and the guard, and walks with bearing, wearing an outfit a step above peasant’s clothes by her standards, Leah imagines. The room they are led to is well-furnished, and the halls outside it filled with religious-lite artwork of snow-scapes and a woman with frost-textured jewellery and white fur robes. One sculpture shows the woman kneeling on a bed of fallen leaves, apparently coaxing buds from a barren tree.
Jeno politely thanks the guard and Leah for accompanying her, and takes the supper that is offered her – no meat, and a generous portion of the dessert drink. She does not ask them to stay, but withdraws to eat at a low table provided in the room.
Leah walks away from the closed door feeling morose.
“Es sy ryly a duces of Ƃeden?” the guard asks her as they leave.
“Th dautẽ of uon,” Leah says, then blinks a bit, taken aback by the fact she just spoke Olues.
“Sy’s buteful,” the guard says, and Leah nods without comment. “An a uedo?”
“A widow? Suppose so.”
“Traze.” The guard nods a goodbye to Leah and hurries off to his post. Leah stands uncertainly, then decides to go rest, to be ready for whatever battle eventually arrives.
She eats supper in the mess hall, and tries to listen to the gossip. Mostly it is too quiet to be overheard, but she catches some familiar words. Barras…ualls…arcẽs…barracks, walls, archers. Wow, this is almost getting easy.
The atmosphere is tense, and everyone seems rushed. Leah intentionally eats slowly, to give herself more time to observe the goings-on, but even so she learns nothing more than what she had already heard from Seffon.
Leaving the crowds behind, she goes to her room and lies in the bed, playing over the fight in her head. She remembers the captain’s last motion, the release of something. She wonders if it worked, or if Solace’s teleport-thingy cut it off. She wishes she still had the bandolier, so she could turn it on for just a second, to sever whatever connection might have been made. On reflection she realises that it might also disenchant the whole Hold, if she did so, so she decides not to. Besides, we haven’t really tested it thoroughly. Does it work only if activated before or during the spell’s casting? Does it only work on certain branches? No, that makes no sense.
We hadn’t even thought to test if it worked differently depending on if the target or caster was wearing it; it took Solace to point that out. Damn, and I thought I was being so scientifically rigorous. And now there probably won’t be time to test it further.
A knock sounds at her door, frighteningly loud in the darkness. Dreading that it’s news that the attack has already been spotted, despite the fact that they couldn’t have possibly gotten here so fast, she goes slowly to open it.
Jeno stands outside in the dim hall, with a white blanket wrapped around herself as a shawl. Leah opens the door a little wider, surprised and a little worried – Residual spell effects? Nightmares? What’s wrong?
“Leah was kind,” Jeno says, quietly. “Really kind. And I appreciated her for that. But she’s gone now, and when you replaced her you actually cared. Leah might have wanted to save me, but she would never have been able to prove my innocence. She was a loyal friend, and you are a devoted fool.” Jeno steps in and closes the door. “So don’t ever push me away again.”
She grabs Leah’s face and goes on tip-toes to reach it, pulling her down for a kiss, letting the blanket drop behind her. Leah takes a second to realise Jeno’s meaning, then immediately lowers down and hugs her around the waist, lifting her into the air. Jeno squeaks a bit, wrapping her legs around Leah’s hips for balance.
Leah reaches a hand up to brush some of the hair away from Jeno’s face, her fingertips brushing over her cheeks. With Jeno’s arms around her neck, she tilts up and resumes the kiss properly.
Jeno’s lips are chapped, but Leah hardly notices, pressing past with her tongue and slipping into the warmth of her mouth, one hand tangled in her hair, holding her close. She steps slowly backwards towards the bed, Jeno’s hands tickling at the nape of her neck. Sitting back on the mattress, Leah falls to her back and Jeno falls over her, just barely catching herself.
The kiss broken, Leah looks up at Jeno’s face in the low light. She catches the waves of dark brown hair and holds them back, tracing her fingers over Jeno’s lips, then down her chin and along her neck.
Jeno leans down and they kiss gently, quick pecks as Leah shifts to unlace Jeno’s shirt, pulling it up and off. She slides her hands over Jeno’s waist, fingers meeting at her spine, and she traces the dip of it from bottom to top, Jeno shivering slightly at the touch, arching closer.
With one hand, Jeno starts tugging at Leah’s shift, and they roll over each other, switching positions. Leah tugs the shift off over her head and drops it; Jeno’s slender hands reach up and catch her breasts as she does so, pinching the nipples lightly between thumbs and forefingers.
Leah shifts back and undoes the laces to Jeno’s briefs, and Jeno wriggles out of them and further onto the bed. They move to lie on it properly, instead of hanging half over the edge, and end up sharing the pillow, kissing slowly, each lingering movement savoured.
Leah reaches a hand down between them to brush over Jeno’s thighs, teasing at the area just above; warmth radiates out from her, and Leah can sense Jeno’s impatience in how her tongue begins sliding across Leah’s lips more rapidly, interspersed with little tugging bites.
She teases a few seconds more, smiling at how Jeno squirms, then Leah slides her fingers up and to the slippery edge of Jeno’s slit, the gentle brush of fuzz against her palm and the warm folds around her finger. With the gentlest pressure, she slips a finger inside and starts drawing small circles.
Jeno moans and pulls her tighter, her hand sliding down Leah’s back, pausing over her butt to squeeze it. Leah jolts a bit in surprise, and Jeno does it a few more times, rubbing softly in between each time. Her hand moves on, over Leah’s hip, across her thigh, and then between them. Leah parts them slightly to allow access, and Jeno separates hers as well.
Leah slips another finger between the lips of Jeno’s sex, and increases pressure, slowly building and releasing, while Jeno slides her fingers slowly and teasingly over Leah’s slit, barely brushing skin, making her legs shake in anticipation.
A particularly sharp bite on her lip makes Leah flinch, and Jeno pulls back slightly to smirk down at her. Leah snickers and slides her fingers down Jeno’s slit, curling them up and into her, soft and so warm. Jeno inhales sharply, lower lip pouting open in surprise, and her walls tighten around Leah’s fingers for a second.
Leah shifts her wrist for a better angle, and starts gently moving her hand back and forth, her thumb still gently over Jeno’s clit. Belatedly, Jeno resumes her own teasing, though with apparently much less patience; she slips two fingers in and traces circles to either side of Leah’s clit, indirect but strong pressure. Leah grinds her hips against Jeno’s hand, moaning in satisfaction.
As she senses Jeno’s desire mount, Leah gradually slips deeper and deeper in, fingertips pressing up and against the inside of her passage, stroking with force but only ever slowly.
When Jeno’s head begins to tilt back, Leah leans against the curve of her neck and kisses her collarbone, working her way up to her neck, sucking gently at the skin. Jeno whimpers as she does, and her legs start to tremble.
Leah keeps her lips on Jeno’s neck, her thumb passing lightly over Jeno’s clit while she fingers her. Jeno’s own hands grow more needy, with one finger rubbing above Leah’s clit and strumming it very lightly from each side, never directly touching it. Her other hand is wrapped in Leah’s hair, holding her head against her neck, pulling gently every time Leah moves to suck at a new patch of skin.
Jeno gasps and gives a tiny whimpered, “Oh, fuck,” and Leah increases the pressure, bit by bit, reaching as deep as she can go, and curling her fingertips slightly with every pulse of Jeno’s walls. The other woman is trembling against her, her hands clenching and unclenching sporadically, her breathing choppy.
Leah lightly presses her teeth against Jeno’s neck, and Jeno arches her back, letting out a deep sigh, tugging hard at Leah’s hair. Her thighs tense, and Leah’s hand is half-trapped, with two fingers deep inside her. Leah curls them up and rubs from the inside as Jeno comes, panting, chest heaving against Leah’s. She lets the sound wash over her and fuel her own passion, her mind clouding over and all intelligent thought replaced by the need to hear this beautiful woman moan a little more.
Jeno gradually falls limp, breathing evening out. She resumes her movements, forgotten in the intensity of her peak, and picks them up with greater fervour, making Leah writhe in surprise, gasping. Jeno pushes herself up and back, lowering her mouth over Leah’s sex, and Leah watches her slip her tongue slowly up and along her slit, dragging zigzags with the tip as she reaches her clit, then passing again with more force.
Pressing her head back into the pillow, Leah revels in the release – the warmth, and the tickling pressure, and Jeno’s nails digging into the soft skin of her thighs. Jeno sucks gently at Leah’s clit, and Leah feels her own orgasm building, her needs so long ignored that even slight attention feels heavenly.
Leah’s legs tremble as it hits her and she whimpers, one hand on Jeno’s head, guiding her as she licks up and around, tongue tip just teasing into her passage, then sliding back up to press flat against her clit. The feeling is over-strong in the post-orgasm sensitivity, but her tongue is warm and insistent and Leah doesn’t want it to stop.
“It’s too much,” Leah finally has to say, when her thighs won’t stop shaking. Jeno pulls away slowly, then gives a kiss to each thigh, crawling back up to collapse beside Leah’s chest, eyes heavy-lidded and a faint smile on her lips.
They lie on top of the sheets and catch their breath, Jeno partially lying on top of her.
“This is very illegal,” Leah eventually says, once her brain-fog has cleared enough to allow her to form sentences.
Jeno giggles a bit. “And for no very good reason.”
Leah pulls her in for a kiss. “I agree, but still.” She then becomes more serious. “If someone wanted you to be arrested for something, and Eschen knew all along about…us…”
Jeno flips over and presses her back against Leah’s chest. “I know. I wondered that too.”
“How did he know?”
Jeno looks over her shoulder for a second. “When we arrived in Valerin, the five were already there. The Lady Valerid presented you as my guard, and captain Eschen stayed on the ship. Mum and dad thought it was a slight, but they accepted because they understood how Valerin was about magic, and they didn’t want to sneak him in by pretending he wasn’t a warrior-mage.
“One day when I went down to the shops, with you accompanying me, we met him on the streets. He invited us to dine on the ship, and I couldn’t say no without insulting his status. You saw that I didn’t want to go, but we had no excuse to refuse so we went.”
Here Jeno smiles a bit, reminiscing. “You – or, I guess, the other Leah – she was so enchanted by the ship. She wasn’t a sailor, never had been, so she was curious about everything, especially the military elements. I was uncomfortable with the talk, but the captain insisted on showing us everything, and then he showed you – that Leah – some of the fighting styles used on-board. That was when I first saw your – her – fighting style: defensive, stoic, not so vicious as what I’d been taught to expect from warriors. Leah hadn’t started wooing me, then, but that was when I first became open to the idea.
“Eschen came to the keep only rarely, after that, but one time he spotted us under the bridge. He didn’t say anything then, but he passed by my quarters one evening and advised me to be more careful, that it was very important I not get caught, for my own safety. I was afraid he was going to turn me in or lecture me, but he was…gruff, but not angry.”
“And the knife?” Leah presses. “The dagger?”
“Leah seemed to enjoy his company; she often spoke with him, at least. After a while he even told my parents that he approved of her as a choice of guard…” Jeno starts to clam up, and Leah strokes her arm to reassure her. “I asked if there was an appropriate token I could give Leah, to show our thanks, or our trust. Really I just wanted to give her something nice.
“My parents said that wasn’t necessary. We left the ship, but the captain pulled me aside before I could go. I thought he was going to be mad, but he just…took me aside, and told me I should give Leah the dagger; that she was a skilled fighter, and deserving of it. I just wanted to get away from him, so I said yes and took it…and she looked so noble with it at her hip. It reminded me of home, but home in the hands of someone I trusted.”
Leah does not respond, too busy thinking.
“He knew from the beginning, pretty much,” Jeno says, into the silence. “I suppose, now…he will be telling my parents…”
Leah holds her closer. “I’m not so sure. It doesn’t fit with the story he’s created; he told everyone you were guilty, and then made you confess, but he didn’t try to implicate you during my trial at all. If he wanted to get you in trouble, he could have done it from the start. There must have been something else to be gained by framing you this way…”
Jeno is quiet for a moment. “He didn’t make me confess. I wasn’t framed.”
Leah stops, and listens.
“He finally stopped doing…whatever it was he’d done. I could remember a little more clearly, and I could remember…holding the dagger.” Jeno presses back further against her. “He told me he knew I was guilty, and that if I didn’t confess, there would be more truth spells, and interrogations, and prisons.”
A long pause. “He offered to sneak me out of Valerin, in the night. Take me to the ship, and sail back to Ben-Lia. He said it was the only way to avoid punishment, but I couldn’t…I couldn’t go back in shame, and I wouldn’t go back with him. I knew that he’d made me do it, and I knew no-one would believe me if I said that.”
Leah pets her hair a bit, and pulls the top sheet over them. “But why would you stay, if you knew you’d be executed?”
Jeno curls smaller. “I knew I was guilty, and Samson…he was sweet. He was just a kid, and he didn’t want to be married any more than I did, but he was very sweet. I didn’t want…I didn’t want to go home and keep living, when I had his death on my hands.”
Leah understands, and understands that this is not healthy logic, but does not think this is the time to try and correct it. She just continues to hold Jeno through the night.
*
Early in the morning she wakes Jeno up and tells her she ought to go back to her rooms. She doesn’t specifically mention that it might be bad to be seen together, but Jeno appears to catch the drift anyway.
“We’re working on figuring out what his plan was,” Leah reassures her, as she helps her get dressed. “Eschen, that is. We never knew exactly what role you were supposed to play in this whole thing, but I think I understand a little bit of it now.”
Jeno hugs her close before turning to the door.
A few quick knocks, and the door opens before Jeno can touch the handle; Jeno jumps back in fear, then embarrassment. Seffon walks in hurriedly, and his face registers brief confusion, eyes darting between them, before he understands. He straightens a bit but does not comment. His face adopts a neutral, though harried, expression.
“I have received a report.” He gestures with a scroll held in his hand. “Directly after you left the square, the Valerin city population rioted and demanded the Cheden delegation be expelled. The Valerin and Ben-Lia armies had a seven-hour battle, during which Cheden tried to capture the keep, but they were successfully repelled. Half their ships are now bound north-west, while the other half keeps the city under siege.” He drops the report on Leah’s dresser. “In response, Volst has declared war on Cheden.”
