XLII. Crossing Over

Aichlan slammed his fist on the table, knocking over the nearly empty wine glass. He swore and quickly mopped up the liquid with his coat, stopping it before it ruined the already brittle and quite ancient map. The map was more detailed than the cartographer could have drawn, and sheathed in a protective skin of wax or resin. The map itself was a mess of lines and symbols too steady for human hands to make, and almost incomprehensible if one did not know what each symbol represented or the significance of how close or far apart a set of lines was. For instance, contours represented elevation, different colors and faint symbols represented marsh and forests, and numerous cities and towns that ceased to exist millennia ago were represented in vivid detail, right down to the roads and buildings. All of Duvachellé was on display before him, yet he could still not find what he was looking for, nor did he even know where to begin.

Several ladies entered the library, and the custodian greeted them with a hushed but pleasant voice. Aichlan sighed and picked up his cup, disgustedly tossing it back onto the table upon remembering it was empty. A patron of the library shushed him, and it took all of Aichlan’s restraint to keep from launching into a vulgar tirade in response. There was nothing he would find here; he knew that when he began. Osric was in Sorn, and he took Laelianus with him. Aichlan tapped his chin as he stared at the map, trying to make sense of it. If he could find where the enemy had lay in ambush, he might be able to find a clue as to where they took the King; or perhaps he could find a suitable location along the border to stage an incursion into Sorn. Or perhaps he could be honest with himself and admit he was trying to keep himself distracted and occupied.

“I did not expect to see you here…”

Aichlan looked up with a furrowed brow, to see the black mage that had rid him of the hex. Her eyes were red and her lids droopy, dark circles and too much mascara gave her a hollow look, like a woman once dead. Unlike the other female mages he had seen running around, she forwent the black pinafore and blouse combo, opting instead to wear a svelte black gown with wide sleeves and showing quite a bit of cleavage. She grinned sinisterly as she caught his gaze, and Aichlan quickly looked away.

“And dressed so casually,” Senka looked him up and down with hungry grey eyes, “Day off?”

Aichlan scratched his chin as he pretended to engross himself in the map once more. He had forgotten that for the past several months, most had only seen him in his uniform and armor or the formal wear of The Order. During one of Clarissa’s numerous shopping excursions, she had purchased him a black jerkin with slashed sleeves, which he wore over a red satin doublet with red hose. While the colors did not quite suit him, they were the colors of the Dorso family, and helped him to blend in so to speak.

“You’re Senka, correct?”

The woman fluttered her lashes caked with too much mascara and touched her hand to her chest. “I am truly touched you remember the name of this humble servant of darkness.”

Aichlan cringed and attempted to put on a pleasant face. “Right…What brings you here?”

Senka held up a linen tote bag filled with books. “Just stopping by for some light reading material.” She craned her neck as she bent over the map. “Planning a trip?”

“No.” Aichlan quickly knocked the paperweights off the corners, and the map rolled in on itself. “Not sure what I’m doing…”

Senka frowned and slung the bag over her shoulder. “Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence…”

Aichlan bristled silently, in no mood to be goaded or have the obvious stated to him. He was frustrated enough by having his hands tied first by Laelianus, and now that brat Aislyn. At least with the former, he knew where the man stood; he had been quite open with the fact his strings were being pulled by another. Aichlan could even predict some of his motives, and was in hindsight given some leeway to go around the various roadblocks. Aislyn however, she was something far worse. Both wanted power, but Aislyn wanted domination, and his army represented a means to enforce her will. A woman such as her, one who shunned all noble lords who petitioned her hand, a woman that saw herself as equal if not superior to them, she would not be allowed to stand. Their pride would not allow such an affront. Aichlan’s army was little more to her than a tool she could wield against the enemies who sought to supplant her. Aichlan sighed and excused himself, hoping a walk in the chill air would help clear his mind. Much to his surprise and annoyance, Senka followed him.

As they stepped out into the cold, crowded streets, Aichlan nodded a goodbye and headed towards the hotel where his troops were stationed, along with several decent pubs. It would do well to show his face to the men and share a pint or three, and hopefully work through some of his own doubts in the process. In the past, back when he and Laelianus served under the venerable Sir Graf, they would head into town to blow off steam or talk shit to one another. Aichlan turned up his collar, wishing for a hat and trousers with pockets.

“How did you know the former king?” Senka asked as she took his arm in her own.

Aichlan flushed and tried to pull free, but she only held on tighter. “Uh, well…. we served together in The Order. And he’s still king.”

“Don’t tell the ice princess that…”

Aichlan slowed his pace as he relented in allowing her to take his arm. While she certainly had a point, he was unwilling to simply write off his erstwhile friend and self-proclaimed rival. It was simply not something brothers in arms did. In any case, Aislyn’s feeble grip on power would soon come to an end regardless. Duvachellé was quite strict in enforcing its rule preventing women from ruling alone. If Laelianus did not return, then some duke would step up to fill the role. Aislyn’s only choice was to take a husband, and given her situation and history, it was unlikely anyone would be willing to step up to that challenge.

Senka looked up with grey eyes holding depth and wisdom far beyond her apparent age. “You miss your friend, don’t you?”

Aichlan kept his eyes fixed forward, wondering if he had truly been so transparent. “I wouldn’t call him a friend exactly, nor would I say I miss him. The country needs his firm hand and tactical mind right now, something Aislyn lacks, and whomever replaces her likely will as well.” Aichlan growled under his breath and tousled his hair. “I don’t understand! I’m not some lost puppy, I can think for myself and make the tough decisions, so why is this so… unclear?”

Senka chewed on her thumb as she rested her head on his shoulder. “Who do you usually take council with?”

Aichlan was silent for several moments, primarily because he did not really have an answer, but also because he did not know why he was being so candid with this woman. Up to now, he had not really relied on his officers as much as he should have. While the Colby-Nau were, unorthodox, they certainly knew the basics of war. At least those of the warrior clans did. Eth was certainly someone he trusted, but Aichlan was content to let him do as he saw fit, and Eth rarely offered any complaints regarding Aichlan’s own leadership. In fact, the only one to truly counsel and guide him was his father, Garrick, and he was dead.

“Tell me, Senka,” Even as the words tumbled from his mouth, he regretted them, “Can you commune with the dead?”

Senka laughed and adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “What gave you that idea?”

Aichlan blushed and took the satchel, nearly dropping it from the unexpected weight. “You studied under Osric, didn’t you?”

“Half the kids here from Asketill took at least one of his classes, he was only expelled around two or three years ago.” Senka pulled Aichlan to the side to avoid a particularly large and boisterous group of nobles. “In addition to being the only one to teach advanced defense against the black arts and a couple prerequisite history courses, he was rather popular. Particularly with the female student body.”

Aichlan rolled his eyes. “Forget I asked…”

“But…” A devious grin crossed her lips, “He also conducted a couple of private study lessons with his favored students.”

Aichlan suddenly felt uncomfortable. “Let me guess, you were one of them?”

Senka traced her lips with her finger and nodded slowly. “Oh yes. Stop by my quarters later this evening, I’ll see if I can find your spirit.”

She pulled Aichlan to the side of the road and stood in front of him. Aichlan returned her smile with an awkward one of his own. While mages in general made most soldiers uncomfortable, she was particularly creepy and just plain weird. He simply could not get a bead on her motivations or line of thinking, not even speaking of the animal dissections she did in her bed chambers. It could simply be a black mage quirk, or perhaps a Rhodarcian thing. That Siegrun woman Laelianus had kept around was equally weird, after all.

“What time should I stop by?” Aichlan asked uneasily, not sure if he should even go through with it.

Senka shrugged and tossed her hair. “When it's dark.”

Before he could ask her to clarify further, Senka took her satchel of books and turned into a cloud of fragrant black smoke that vaguely held her form. As Aichlan reached out to touch it, the column of smoke collapsed into a puddle of black ink at his feet, and that too rapidly dissolved into nothing.

* * *

“Another round General?”

Aichlan slapped a wad of bills onto the snooker table and slowly shook his head. Admiral Donnelyn’s second officer, Flynn, shrugged and pounded the last of his ale. Aichlan had been surprised to find a snooker table in Marquez, and even more surprised to find such a good player among the admiral’s men. Not surprising however was how effortlessly the pirate had hustled him, and by using such a common ruse.

“I’ve got other engagements.” Aichlan said as he checked his empty mug in dismay. “Perhaps another time.”

Aichlan left the rowdy pub to a fanfare of pipe smoke and slurred drinking songs, stepping out to the cold and empty streets like a man taking his first steps on deck. As he made his way unsteadily up the gas lamp lit lane, he began to have doubts about his rendezvous with Senka. By the time he finally decided to blow off the meeting, he was already at the door to her hotel. With a deep sigh, he stumbled up the short flight of steps and inside.

As expected for that time of night, the lobby was empty, and the lone clerk was asleep behind the counter. Aichlan mounted the stairs unopposed, wondering all the while if it were too late to turn back. While he did not think the woman was dangerous necessarily, she was quite strange. She also might have a crush on him, and Aichlan did not need that sort of temptation in his life at the moment.

As he drunkenly mounted the last flight of stairs to the witch’s floor, Aichlan was surprised to hear a woman crying. Curiosity getting the better of him, he ducked against the wall leading into the main hallway, receiving an odd stare from a passing mage. Aichlan ignored the young man’s stare, and peeked around the corner, though in his inebriated state, his position was hardly inconspicuous.

Senka, holding a still smoking opium pipe haphazardly in her hand, leaned against her door frame as Maleah sat with her back against the opposite wall. The cavalier’s eyes were redder than usual, she sniffled and wiped her eyes and snotty nose off on the back of her sleeve. Aichlan almost did not recognize her, dressed in a black and white frock dress with lace frills that seemed at odds with her devil may care nature. She was certainly not a woman Aichlan could imagine crying.

“Are you sure that’s what happened?” Senka’s words were slurred, and she paused to take a slow, labored draw from her pipe. “This is not my specialty either, I could have just done it wrong…”

Maleah shook her head and used the wall to pull herself up. “No, you did it right. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“Come on,” Senka stood to the side and ushered Maleah inside, “Let’s try again. The older souls tend to disappear from time to time, no one can really explain why. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Maleah smiled weakly and smoothed the front of her dress with her hands. “No, she’s gone for good, just as the blonde girl said. My brother destroyed her soul, and I must live with that.”

Senka tapped her pipe against her lips as she tried to sensitively articulate her question. “Was she really,” She paused, her voice barely a whisper, “were you truly visited by an Eloi?”

Maleah cast her eyes to the ground. “Thank you again…”

Maleah quickly ran off towards the stairwell as Aichlan clumsily ducked back behind the wall. The two briefly collided, but she merely mumbled an apology before charging down two and three steps at a time.

“You can stop hiding like some kinda pervert General.”