Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 12

The banquet courses continued for two hours, finally tapering into multiple desserts, then tiny glasses of potent liqueurs. Nicci glanced up through the open ceiling of the grand villa, where night moths flitted around the blooming vine flowers. The clear sky was awash with stars.

After the main course, High Captain Avery took a plate of his own and ate standing beside Thora. Her normally icy expression melted, and she laughed at his whispered comments to her. She shared some morsels from her plate, although he had a full serving of his own.

“Our dear captain’s loyalty and bravery are impeccable, and his strength…” She heaved a small sigh. “Avery is quite capable, and intensely devoted to the city of Ildakar.”

“And devoted to the beautiful sovrena herself,” Maxim said with lilting sarcasm. He treated his wife’s obvious flirtation with wry cheer that might have covered a hint of annoyance.

“He’s certainly more capable than you have been in a long time, husband,” Thora retorted.

“I’m still fully capable, my dear, just no longer interested,” he said, and Thora’s face puckered with disdain. Maxim lounged back in his chair. “At least not interested in you. Perhaps that’ll change, given another thousand years.”

“By then you will be weary of every other woman in Ildakar,” she said.

“Oh, I couldn’t be tired of them all,” Maxim said. “And I could never forget that you are my wife and my love. Just look at you.” He swept his hand toward the perfection of her face, the intricate nest of loops and braids of her hair. “How incredibly beautiful you are.” He took a long swallow of bloodwine, lowered his voice. “On the outside.”

Thora reached out to pat Avery’s hand. He stood straight-backed, uncomfortable to be caught in the middle of this discussion. He adjusted the red pauldron on his shoulder. The other wizards around the table had consumed enough wine that their conversation flowed freely and loudly. Even Nathan talked loquaciously with a hint of a slur to his words.

Taking his goblet loosely in his left hand, Maxim rose from his chair and stood beside her seat. The wizard commander had a gleam in his eye—a gleam Nicci didn’t like.

She was alert and on her guard. She had been used by many men, but had never pretended to call it love. Throughout her time as Death’s Mistress, she had been Jagang’s plaything, and before that, a pawn tossed about among the soldiers of the Imperial Order.

Maxim leaned close to her shoulder. “Over centuries of sheltered peace, the gifted nobles of Ildakar had much opportunity to hone our skills and develop the fine arts of sexual pleasure.” He leaned closer, spoke in a husky voice. “I daresay that most of our techniques have never been seen in the outside world.”

“You must be very proud,” Nicci said. “Perhaps you should use those skills to keep your wife satisfied.”

The wizard commander scoffed. “Satisfying Thora is an impossible task—ask any of her discarded partners. In fact, ask High Captain Avery. I am curious how he manages to do it.”

The sovrena looked icy. “He manages, because he is well endowed with talent … and well endowed in general.”

A gasp and a titter went down the table. The banter delighted the other wizards, but Nicci was not amused, although she could not be offended on Maxim’s behalf, because he didn’t seem to care.

“You cannot make me jealous, dear wife, for I am as satisfied with our arrangement as you are.” Maxim bent close enough to Nicci that she could smell the wine on his breath. “I must inform you of our tradition on special evenings. The gifted nobles often join in pleasure parties, large and small, all of them intimate. You have noticed the immensity of this grand villa. We have numerous rooms with numerous beds … or floor cushions, or swinging hammocks. The possibilities may not be endless, but I don’t believe we’ve explored all of them yet, not in fifteen hundred years. I would be most honored if you would join us. Let me show you the true pinnacles of ecstasy. I promise we’ve developed countless masterful techniques.”

Nicci met his gaze with her clear blue eyes. She didn’t back away, or flinch, or give any sign of warmth. “I think not. I have many techniques of my own, and they aren’t necessarily pleasurable.”

Maxim chuckled at that. “I know what you mean … and there are those who take great satisfaction in receiving and giving pain. It is a different form of enjoyment, although many still consider it sexual ecstasy.”

Nicci didn’t budge. The duma members at the table watched her closely. “You mistake my meaning. I do not intend to participate in your pleasure parties. At all.”

“But we appreciate the offer,” Nathan interjected quickly. “I should tell you that Nicci has been treated badly in the past, and I’m afraid the experience rather soured her on what others call pleasure. But if this invitation is important to you, and if it’s a tradition, I may have to consider serving in the role. I am the roving D’Haran ambassador.”

An awkward mutter ran around the table. Elsa seemed embarrassed for him. She gave the old wizard’s hand a reassuring pat. “Thank you for your willingness, Nathan, but there’s a problem. You see, our pleasure parties are only for the gifted nobles.” She let her words hang for a moment.

Across the table, the fleshmancer Quentin broke in. “As you made clear to us, you have lost your gift. It’s gone within you. We’ll still welcome you here in Ildakar, but you won’t be allowed to participate in pleasure parties until your gift is restored.”

Elsa considered, then said, “We have always had a tradition of allowing outside guests, under special circumstances. This may be an appropriate circumstance, so we wouldn’t have to leave the poor man out.”

“Think about it, Nathan Rahl. What if your condition is contagious?” Thora asked. “Especially by close, intimate contact.”

“I assure you that is not the case,” Nathan said.

Gruff Ivan elicited a wave of laughter. “Can he even make his wizard’s staff rise?”

Nathan, a man not easily embarrassed, folded his hands in front of him on the banquet table, adjusting the copper-trimmed sleeves of his green wizard’s robe. “Mock me if you like. I had hoped to receive more sympathy for my tragic condition, but after this fine and enormous meal, I might be more interested in a good sleep than wild hedonistic celebrations anyway.”

Amos and his companions got up from the table, bored with the conversation. “We’ll take Bannon Farmer and show him some fun. Don’t worry about us.”

The young swordsman looked out of his depth, but afraid to say no. Nevertheless, Nicci was sure he could take care of himself. “Like Nathan, I believe sleep sounds like a fine idea. We’ll have more business to discuss tomorrow.”

She stood, and Nathan rose to join her, collecting his dignity as they departed, walking past the clean, sweet perfume of white flowers from an indoor hedge of night-blooming jasmine.

As they left the banquet hall, Nathan dipped his hands in the small reflecting pool in the hall, shook off the excess water. “Thank you, Sorceress. A clean, soft bed sounds like enough ecstasy just now.”

Nicci made a noncommittal comment. Though their quarters in Cliffwall had been comfortable, she kept thinking how she had shared her chamber with poor Thistle, how the young orphan girl had loved to curl up on a sheepskin on the stone floor.

“In the morning, Fleshmancer Andre wishes to take me to his research pavilion so we can study my condition. I’ll be happy to learn some answers.”

“I will be glad when your powers are restored and you’re back to your old self,” Nicci said. She bade him good night as she entered her room, pushing aside the purple fabric hangings that covered the door. She removed her black dress and donned the comfortable sleep garment the servants had laid out for her. As she lounged on the bed, savoring the cool sheets, listening to the whisper of breezes out in the night, she let a trickle of her gift flow out so she could extinguish the lamps. As she lay in the dim shadows, the room felt very alone without Thistle. She also felt alone without Mrra.

The spell-bonded sand panther had bounded away when Amos and his companions arrived. As their group traveled across the plain toward Ildakar, Nicci had sensed the big cat following them, out of sight … but she hadn’t seen Mrra since.

Now as Nicci drifted, letting her thoughts flow, she did not slide into sleep, but followed the faint bond, reaching out into the night. She knew that Mrra prowled outside the city walls, hunting in the hills. She could detect the uneasiness in her sister panther’s mind. Mrra had been afraid of the three young men, and now the cat’s hatred for the great city shouted through her animal instincts and feline moods.

Ildakar was dangerous. Ildakar was a place of pain and bad memories.

Nicci had dreamed some of those memories before. She had recognized many of the arcane runes etched in the structures of Ildakar, symbols that matched the marks branded onto Mrra’s hide.

As she drifted closer to sleep, Nicci mused on the dichotomy that the sand panther was out there alone, roaming the wild, while Nicci herself was in a spacious bedchamber after eating a fine banquet.

Yet Nicci feared that she might be the one facing more danger.