Dark Love

The Free City Raiden was several times the size of the next largest city of Lodoss Island. Its port was also the largest to be found anywhere. It was said that anything could be found for a price in Raiden, and Pirotess was inclined to believe it. No single architectural style dominated, just as no single race dominated the city itself. Nobody controlled it, yet somehow the city had never sunk into anarchy despite rampant intrigue, double-dealing and thievery. Instead, Raiden always seemed to profit from events elsewhere, with no loss to itself.

Pirotess and Ashram looked down on Raiden from a nearby wooded hill, both well ensconced in their cloaks to hide from inquisitive looks and the rain.

Pirotess turned toward the Black Knight. “I should go on ahead alone and make sure Parn and his companions aren’t waiting for us.” The cowl of Ashram’s cloak moved down and up in acknowledgement. She left all her horses but her mare and her packhorse with Ashram and descended the hill toward Raiden.

She had to circle the walls for a while before she found a road and a guarded gate. The guards were three humans and two goblins with well-maintained weapons and armor. They looked her over, the goblins leering at her feminine form, which was obvious despite her cloak, but let her through without bothering her.

The streets were narrower than where she had passed through with Ashram’s party nearly two weeks ago, but the rain had forced most people inside, so Pirotess had no problems guiding her horses about. She headed deeper in the city, knowing that sooner or later she would come upon its heart, the port. Buildings pressed around her, making her feel vaguely uneasy. She preferred open wilderness to cramped cities.

A cloaked, slender figure crossed her sight, moving with a fluid grace no human could match. Pirotess quelled the murderous anger rising within her at the sight. Since the figure did not even acknowledge her, it could only be a high elf. She had to remind herself that she was here for a specific reason, and it was not to kill high elves, pleasant as that might be.

Despite the rain and the late afternoon, the port was bustling. Dockhands moved up and down the planks of several ships, carrying cargo off or on the decks. There was also more people about than in the rest of the city, some talking in pair or larger groups, others alone and intent on going somewhere. She did not see the ship from Marmo, but that was not surprising considering that even her elven vision was hampered by the rain.

“... be done about that sunk ship?”

“Dunno. No one aboard survived the fight. Damn, but that must have been a sight.”

“Don’t think you’d have survived the sight, either. There was a high elf and a wizard involved. Seems the wizard cast some fireballs about. Burned a bit of the dock, but he paid in gold for it yesterday, he did.”

Pirotess’s ears pricked up at the conversation between two sailors passing near her. Briefly she debated asking them directly, but decided to follow them as unobtrusively as she could. If Parn and his companions were involved, there was a chance they were still in the city, and she had no wish to reveal her presence any more than she had to. The high elf she’d crossed was already too much of a security risk.

“Where was the ship from, anyway?” the sailor she’d first heard asked.

“Nobody seems to know. The crew didn’t come ashore a lot, and even when they did they didn’t talk a lot. Must have been some money aboard that ship, though. They didn’t put off any cargo that anyone saw, but always paid their dock fee in full, or so I’ve heard.”

Pirotess’s heart beat faster. It had to be the Marmo ship the sailors were talking about. Ashram had left strict orders to the crew that they were to lie low and do nothing to bring attention to themselves. And there had been a chest full of gold aboard.

“Pity,” the first sailor grunted. “Well, this is Raiden. You’re sailing with the *Greenwave*?”

“Aye, tomorrow. Well, it was supposed to be tomorrow, but this damn rain came. You up for an ale?”

Pirotess walked her horses away as the sailors’ conversation turned to mundanities. Her heart was beating joyfully. If their ship was sunk, she and Ashram were stranded here, at least in the short term. No ship’s captain would willingly sail to Marmo, no matter how much gold was offered.

Still, she had to be certain. She returned to the port and walked her horses down the lenght of the docks. Eventually, she came to a familiar, deserted dock, and halted her horses. Part of the dock was missing, and several planks were blackened from fire. Two masts rose from the water. Neither had flags, yet another sign that this was indeed the ship she sought. Pirotess contemplated the sight for a few moments.

“A tragedy, is it not, *egerie*?” a cool, singsong male voice asked at her side.

Having heard his light-footed approach, Pirotess calmly looked down at the black-cloaked figure who had addressed her by her title. Almond-shaped golden eyes regarded her steadily from the depths of a cowl.

“An inconvenience, at least,” she replied to the other dark elf.

He bowed his head at her acknowledgement of his presence, as dark elves did when in the presence of a superior, then looked at the water where the ship ha sunk. “You will have trouble sailing back to Marmo,” he said.

She didn’t bother asking how he knew where the ship was from, or that she had arrived on it. “That is my concern. Do you know if those who sunk the ship are still in Raiden?”

The male dark elf looked back at her. “They left yesterday on a ship of their own. But no ship will take you to Marmo, at least none currently in Raiden. However, if that is your wish, arrangements could be made, *egerie.*”

“No need, or at least, not for now. I think I will stay in Raiden for a while.”

“I am Rynnel. Would you accept my hospitality and that of my kin? It would be a great honor for us to host an *egerie,* and the inns of this city are all full of inferior beings,” he said with typical dark elf disdain for all who were not of their race. *And having me stay at his home would certainly enhance his status among our people here.*

“Your offer is appreciated, but I will make my own arrangements.”

“As you wish, *egerie.* May I recommend the Golden Goblin tavern, located just two streets east of here? It is the least worst of the lot, and its owners are suitably discreet. Though at a price, of course,” Rynnel added.

“I will keep that in mind. And I believe I have seen enough of this place for now.”

Rynnel heard the dismissal in her voice. “Should you wish to speak with me again, you have but to wander the docks again, and one of us will come, *egerie.*” He bowed his head again, then turned and walked off, quickly disappearing in the deepening gloom.

Pirotess wheeled her horses about and began to make her way back to the gate she’d come in, frowning. Whether she followed his advice or not, Rynnel and his kin would certainly be keeping an eye on her. Soon, all the dark elves of Raiden would know that an egerie was in the city. And there was no way she could hide that she was with the Lord of Marmo.

Her worries about her fellow dark elves soon faded away, though, as she remembered that she and Ashram were stuck in Raiden, probably for a long time if she didn’t take Rynnel up on his offer. She hoped her smile wouldn\'t be too wide when she told Ashram the news.

* * *

Night had covered the land. The rain continued to fall, though less heavily than before. Ashram was huddled under his cloak, as he had been for several hours, trying to keep himself and the horses as dry as possible in a copse of trees. He endured the discomfort with the stoicism of a veteran campaigner, though he did wish Pirotess would come back soon. *So I can get out of this accursed weather and into someplace warm and dry, not because I’m worried about her,* he told himself firmly.

Finally, he heard the sound of approaching horses. The Black Knight raised his head and his right hand went to Soul Crusher’s hilt. The rider dismounted and entered the copse of trees, leading two horses. Ashram recognized Pirotess’s slender form and graceful gait. He waited for her to speak.

The dark elf looked at him in the eyes. Ashram noted with some unease that she seemed quite happy. She appeared to be restraining a smile, not entirely successfully, and her golden eyes were all but glowing with delight.

“Our ship is sunk,” she said without preamble. “All the crew is dead. It seems to have been the work of Parn and his companions, who left yesterday on another ship.”

Ashram’s face darkened, and his hand tightened on his sword’s hilt. Now he knew why Pirotess looked so happy. For an instant he wondered if she might be lying so he would turn away from Raiden, but dismissed the idea. Opposed to his course Pirotess might be, but she would not lie about something so important.

The Black Knight’s thoughts turned to Parn. He’d fought the young fool twice now, and would have killed him both times if events had not forced them apart. He was going to enjoy running that sorry excuse for a swordsman through the heart with Soul Crusher.

“And there is no other way to Marmo?” he asked in a voice heavier than usual.

“I don’t know teleportation magic, so that is out.\" She shrugged. \"Perhaps another ship, but I doubt that any ship\'s captain would willing sail there.”

That was also what Ashram had thought as soon as he heard about the ship’s loss. They could travel overland in Marmo’s direction, true, but it was separated from the rest of Lodoss Island by some thirty kilometers of water. At one point or another, a ship would be needed. A ship... Or a wizard who knew teleportation magic. Perhaps there was one in Raiden... But, again, what wizard would be reckless enough to teleport to the infamous island of Marmo?

Suddenly Ashram felt a great weariness settle on his shoulders. First there had been the death of Beld, something Ashram had never expected or hoped to see happen... Then bending Soul Crusher to his will... Then bringing Marmo’s evil inhabitants under his rule... Then the failed quest for the Scepter of Domination...

Ashram’s life had never been easy, and less so of late, but always before he’d had a goal, a focus, and the will to reach for it. Now he found himself without the means to progress toward his latest goal. And what of that goal? Killing Wagnard. Then killing Parn. Then Groder. Killing, killing, always killing. Not that he minded, normally, but before the killing had been in the pursuit of a goal, had been the removal of an obstacle. Now killing had become a goal in and of itself.

“Ashram?” Pirotess asked softly. He opened his eyes, though he couldn’t remember closing them.

“No matter what you plan to do now, it will go better with a meal and a night’s sleep. I heard of an inn where we might be comfortable,” she said with startling gentleness.

Ashram nodded wearily. Discipline or no, he was exhausted, physically and mentally. A decent meal and a night’s rest would at least make him more clear-headed to deal with this latest difficulty.

They gathered their horses, mounted, and went off at a walk, which became a trot once they were inside Raiden. The city was poorly illuminated, but that didn’t hamper the dark elf’s acute vision. Pirotess seemed to know exactly where she was going, and eventually she reined in front of a large tavern with a lamp suspended above the door casting a soft light. *The Golden Goblin,* the sign hung above the door proclaimed, under which was a picture of one of the evil creatures, painted, appropriately, gold.

“It will cost much to stable all our horses,” Pirotess pointed out as she dismounted.

Ashram nodded. “With only two of us, we don’t need so many. Two mounts each and a packhorse ought to be enough.”

“In this case, we should sell the rest.”

Ashram nodded again. They would have to start thinking about money, a somewhat unusual exercise for Ashram, who was used to taking what he needed or wanted from Marmo’s larders and armories, or to plunder it from vanquished foes. Still, they shouldn’t be too badly off. He carried a heavy purse filled with gems and gold pieces for emergencies, and four healthy horses would bring in a considerable amount of gold.

“If you wish, you could go to the main room and take a meal. I’ll take care of all the arrangements and join you there,” Pirotess offered.

Ashram thought her voice sounded a bit too hopeful, but he was hungry, weary, cold and wet after hours under the chill rain, so he agreed. “Keep my gelding and the palfrey for me,” he added.

An hour later, as he sat comfortably at a table after having eaten an exquiste meal and paid the privy a visit, Ashram had to admit that Pirotess had been right. He did feel a lot better, and he was ready for a night in a good bed. The dark elf had taken charge of everything. First she’d had him change into a new, dry cloak in the stables, when no one was around to see his black armor, and remove his gauntlets – eating with those on would certainly attract more than a few stares. That done, she’d gone inside and ordered the inn’s most expensive meal for him. Then she went off to see to their rooms and the sale of their horses.

Pirotess came in the main room soon thereafter, her cloak’s cowl lowered and carrying a meal of her own on a wooden tray. The few patrons present all looked up at the sight of her dark-skinned face and pointed ears, but none said anything and they quickly went back to their meals or low conversations.

“All is settled,” she announced as she sat opposite him. “We’ll sleep well tonight, and the horses brought in enough gold to allow us to stay here for months if need be.”

Ashram rather hoped they would not be stuck here that long. He leaned back and looked around as Pirotess ate. The room was commendably clean. Even though it was late, evenly spaced lamps diffused enough light to let patrons see clearly. And the meal he’d eaten matched any he’d had at the table of Emperor Beld. The dark elf had indeed chosen well.

His attention wandered to Pirotess. She was eating with efficient precision, her long, delicate fingers very deft at manipulating the cutlery. She smiled when she noticed him looking. He turned his gaze away.

Pirotess soon finished her meal. She signaled for a serving boy to come take her tray away, then rose from the table. Ashram did the same. She went to the privy for a moment, then led him upstairs. After a few turns along dimly lit halls, she came to a stop in front of a door. The dark elf pulled a key out of her purse, opened the door and stepped inside. He followed her in... and froze.

Their saddlebags were in the room... And the room’s most prominent feature was a single bed large enough for two, illuminated by two lamps, one above the bed, the other above the door. He looked suspiciously at Pirotess.

“I thought it might wise to start saving right now,” she explained.

“And there were no rooms with two beds?”

“Those cost more than this one.”

The Black Knight looked into Pirotess’s golden eyes, unblinking, for a long while. She returned the look, her face unreadable, as if she truly didn’t understand why he should be concerned with the arrangement.

“It will do. For tonight,” he finally said curtly. Pirotess just nodded, but he thought he saw a flash of triumph in her eyes when he turned away. *Damn her. I should have known better than to trust her with everything.*

Ashram closed the door and locked it. He went to the right side of the bed, took off his cloak and began to remove his armor. He noticed Pirotess watching him out of the corner of his eye. She licked her lips when he removed the leather padding covering his chest. At last he wore only his leathery pants. He took a small towel from the water-filled bowl on a nearby small table and removed the sweat and grime that had accumulated on his skin, then put the towel back in the bowl. Wordlessly, he removed the sheets and slipped in.

He could not stiffle a sigh of contentment when he laid his head on the soft pillow and closed his eyes. The last time he’d been in anything resembling a bed had been his narrow bunk aboard the ship.

He heard Pirotess breathe out sharply. The room seemed to grow darker. She moved to the other side of the bed, and he heard her shifting about. Preparing herself for the night, most likely. She washed herself, taking longer than he had. Soon after she was finished, a sweet scent filled his nose. Could she be putting on perfume? No matter. Finally, she crawled on the bed.

“Should I take out the light?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered, not looking at her.

Again Pirotess breathed out. The room darkened again, and went nearly completely black when she closed the drapes before the small window. He felt her tug at the sheets and the mattress shift a bit when she slipped in the bed.

After a time, his eyes adapted to the darkness. Ashram shifted to the other side of the pillow – and his eyes went wide.

Pirotess had arranged the sheets so he could get a view at most of her body. And her body he did see, for she wore only a thin shift that began under her shoulders and ended at mid-thigh. The shift revealed more than it hid of her slender, full-breasted form. He could even make out a patch of white hair between her thighs. Incredulously he raised his gaze to Pirotess’s eyes and found her smiling teasingly at him.

She stretched out, catlike, extending her arms and legs and fully exposing her body’s shape. Ashram’s mouth dried, and a certain part of him reacted to the incredibly sensual sight. Quickly he shifted back to his original position.

“Good night,” Pirotess said.

Ashram did not answer, but closed his eyes and tried to summon sleep. *Teasing witch!* Tired as he was, sleep came quickly, but the last thing he remembered was his treacherous mind trying to picture what Pirotess might look like without the shift.