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The Gray Tower
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
ZenaFox
15.
Trasta giggled.
“I’m serious.”
“Come on, ‘Rika. I’ve seen Maffa sleep – I’ve heard her snore, for gods’sakes – “
“She doesn’t need to sleep,” Halvrika said solemnly. “She told me so. She showed me how.”
That made the elk doe’s ears stand up. “How?”
“It’s a very intricate – and dangerous – spell.” The raccoon thought for a moment. “Basically, you’re separating your self from your body. Your body sleeps while the rest of you – your soul, if you will – is left free to guard, or go roaming around.” She took another sip of her wine, then refilled the cup.
“What else have you learned?” Trasta asked. “If she’s training you that hard, you must be getting into better physical condition.”
The raccoon nodded. “I ache in places I never knew I had. She says that I need the strength of body to support the strength of will for casting.” She sat back and mimicked Maffa’s pedantic tones. “’All the magic in the world won’t do you a bit of good if your heart gives out from the strain.’”
“I think she’s right about that,” Trasta remarked. “I’m good with a sword, but all that skill’s useless if I don’t have the strength to use it.”
Halvrika nodded. “You’re right, of course, and so is she.” She reached for her wine cup and paused. Her ears perked and she looked west.
Trasta asked, “What?” Her paw strayed toward the knife she kept at her belt.
The sow’s lower lip quivered and she blinked back tears. She took a gulp of wine to steady herself and said quietly, “Orn Jaas is dead.”
The doe blinked. “One of the Adepts at Engery?” After repelling an attack by Amb Tokarv against the port city, the Order had placed two Adepts there to fend off any future magical attacks. Both of them were equine, with Orn being the taller of the two. At Halvrika’s nod she asked, “How?”
“There was a riot . . . Gond’s followers,” and the raccoon looked as if she were about to spit. Gond’s anti-magic, anti-Order rhetoric had clearly gained him a large number of adherents. “Orn was caught in a brothel. They put a noose around his neck after beating him senseless and threw him out a window.” Halvrika’s eyes closed briefly, in pain and respect.
“Klimi’s in hiding,” she said, naming the other Adept. “He’s at the fortress, under guard.” She looked sad. “The City Council’s told him that they can’t guarantee his safety in Engery.”
Trasta scowled. “Father must be told.” She stood up and nodded to Dame Karalla as Halvrika scrambled to her feet. “Dame Karalla?”
“Highness?” the weasel asked.
“Get Chelli and Seni, have them get my armor ready. Halvrika?”
“Yes?”
“Ask the Arch-Adepts if they wish assistance in getting Adept Teref out of Engery.”
“I will. What are you going to talk to your father about?”
Trasta’s face was grim. “When you have a lump or an infection, you cut it out.” She gestured for the raccoon to follow her and they left the room.
Halvrika followed beside Trasta as she made her way to the King’s private apartments and paused only to knock on the door before pushing it open. “Father?”
King Aroki was seated behind his desk, a tall bull wearing the Order’s insignia standing before him. Both turned as the doe and the sow entered. “Trasta,” the buck said, “I guessed you’d hear from your friend.” He gave Halvrika a glare.
The raccoon bowed. “Your Majesty, Master Kulorn.”
The bull inclined his head. “Adept.” He turned back to the King. “Unless the Adept has anything to add, that concludes my report. Adept Teref reports that he is currently safe under your troops’ protection.”
“Thanks, Kulorn. Anything to add, Hringurhali?”
“No, Majesty.”
Aroki nodded. “I have sent a messenger to the Temple, Trasta. High Priest Makari and the Hierarchs were waiting for this.”
Trasta raised one eyebrow. “Waiting for this, Father?”
“There’ve been anti-Order preachers in the past, Daughter,” and he smiled. “The last one before this Gond character was when I was a boy. He spent the rest of his life gardening at a monastery up in the mountains, as I recall. But this,” and he nodded toward Master Kulorn, “is entirely different. The Order is under the Crown’s protection; that’s part of the Pact. Attacking a member of the Surveillant Eye demands a response.”
“Shall I rouse the levies in the Engery area?” Trasta asked.
“Word’s being sent to outlying districts. Your uncle will be commanding them.”
“Uncle Meki? Father, I’m your General – “
“No need to stain your paws, Daughter. Meki already volunteered for the job, and he’s a capable buck,” he added good-humoredly. “But because he’ll be leading the forces, you’ll be here to command the Household troops.”
Trasta straightened and placed her fist over her heart. “Yes, Father.”
Master Kulorn turned to Halvrika. “If you hear or scry anything, Adept, share it with us at once.”
“Yes, Master.” The sow and the doe left at the King’s gesture.
As they parted company at the gate of the Keep, Trasta asked, “How are you doing in your other studies?”
Halvrika understood that she was asking about her study of Jeresh the Black’s library. The raccoon replied, “Yes, I’m still reading them. It’s slow going, though.”
“I imagine you’d want to take your time, considering.”
“Oh, believe me, I want to go slow.” The raccoon cocked an ear at the doe. “Something bothering you?”
Trasta nodded. “Father’s giving the Hierarchy the job of reining in Gond. I saw High Priest Makari a while ago, and he didn’t look well at all.”
“Old?”
“Very. Makari’s about eighty. I’m afraid he won’t be able to do anything.”
“What about the rest - ?”
The elk snorted. “We’ll have to see about that.” Not wanting to cause a stir by kissing in public, the pair shook paws and Halvrika headed back to the Order.
***
Once she had returned to the Order, Halvrika found that Master Maffa had been busy. A series of spells were scattered on the floor and walls leading to her quarters, and she had to detect and dispel all of them just to get to her door. Finally the raccoon made it inside, warded herself, and opened the sealed chest near her desk.
Again, Jeresh hadn’t written his spells or his research in any sane order, requiring her to open several scrolls and try to piece the parts together. She got out a blank piece of paper, quill and ink and started making notes.
“Ah,” she breathed. The passage she found dealt with the Worms in the Apple and the spells that went into their making. She had to pick her way through the welter of other notes, but finally a coherent picture began to form.
Once the spell is actuated, its only purpose is to subdue the subject, she read. Whether woman or man, the spell will open them to control. You need not intervene directly, but watch and savor the sensations that they feel as the pleasure consumes them . . .
Halvrika swallowed hard. As she read, her memory tugged her back to her own experience with the spell. She’d been largely unable to resist, especially as Amb had inserted the dildos imbued with the spell into her vagina and anus.
Thank the Writ he hadn’t had a third one.
“Halvrika?” She turned at the voice, accompanied by a knock on the door. It was Master Maffa. “May I come in?”
The raccoon sow broke the ward on the door to admit the feline. “Don’t worry. I’m not in the mood to attack you today. Orn Jaas was a good friend.” She sighed, then grimaced. “Jeresh’s library?”
“Yes, Master. I felt that some study would help.” The sow shook herself angrily. “That damned Priest. I – I should’ve killed him – “
“Stop, Halvrika. Stop right there.” The feline’s voice was gentle, but there was steel under it. “Once you start to use your abilities to kill . . . let me ask you a question. What did you feel when you killed Amb Tokarv?”
Halvrika blinked. “I . . . I was angry . . . tired.”
“Angry. I can understand – “
No, you can’t.
“ – since he had violated you like that, and he had betrayed the Balance that the Order is built upon,” Maffa said. She sat on the edge of her bed, her paws in her lap. “You can reach out, right now, through the Writ, Halvrika. You can stop Gond’s heart just as easily as you stopped Amb’s. But,” and she raised a finger, “do you have the strength to stop?”
“Stop?”
“Stop. A war mage must be more closely attuned to the Balance than any other member of the Order, my dear. We have to have the restraint to know when to kill, and when to not kill.”
The raccoon nodded, and sat down beside her. “I think I understand, Master. But he’s killed – “
“Has he?” Her expression was kind, motherly.
That caused her to think. “He may have incited others to kill Orn.”
“And do you stop his heart for that? What of the person who steps up to replace him? And the next, or the next?” Maffa’s even, maternal tone never wavered. “How many furs must die by your paw? How many furs die before you succeed in justifying Crown Prince Meki’s opinion of the Order?”
© 2014 by Walter Reimer
(This is a sequel to The Black Chapel. Reading the earlier story isn’t really necessary, but you may find it useful. Just saying.)
Art by
ZenaFox15.
Trasta giggled.
“I’m serious.”
“Come on, ‘Rika. I’ve seen Maffa sleep – I’ve heard her snore, for gods’sakes – “
“She doesn’t need to sleep,” Halvrika said solemnly. “She told me so. She showed me how.”
That made the elk doe’s ears stand up. “How?”
“It’s a very intricate – and dangerous – spell.” The raccoon thought for a moment. “Basically, you’re separating your self from your body. Your body sleeps while the rest of you – your soul, if you will – is left free to guard, or go roaming around.” She took another sip of her wine, then refilled the cup.
“What else have you learned?” Trasta asked. “If she’s training you that hard, you must be getting into better physical condition.”
The raccoon nodded. “I ache in places I never knew I had. She says that I need the strength of body to support the strength of will for casting.” She sat back and mimicked Maffa’s pedantic tones. “’All the magic in the world won’t do you a bit of good if your heart gives out from the strain.’”
“I think she’s right about that,” Trasta remarked. “I’m good with a sword, but all that skill’s useless if I don’t have the strength to use it.”
Halvrika nodded. “You’re right, of course, and so is she.” She reached for her wine cup and paused. Her ears perked and she looked west.
Trasta asked, “What?” Her paw strayed toward the knife she kept at her belt.
The sow’s lower lip quivered and she blinked back tears. She took a gulp of wine to steady herself and said quietly, “Orn Jaas is dead.”
The doe blinked. “One of the Adepts at Engery?” After repelling an attack by Amb Tokarv against the port city, the Order had placed two Adepts there to fend off any future magical attacks. Both of them were equine, with Orn being the taller of the two. At Halvrika’s nod she asked, “How?”
“There was a riot . . . Gond’s followers,” and the raccoon looked as if she were about to spit. Gond’s anti-magic, anti-Order rhetoric had clearly gained him a large number of adherents. “Orn was caught in a brothel. They put a noose around his neck after beating him senseless and threw him out a window.” Halvrika’s eyes closed briefly, in pain and respect.
“Klimi’s in hiding,” she said, naming the other Adept. “He’s at the fortress, under guard.” She looked sad. “The City Council’s told him that they can’t guarantee his safety in Engery.”
Trasta scowled. “Father must be told.” She stood up and nodded to Dame Karalla as Halvrika scrambled to her feet. “Dame Karalla?”
“Highness?” the weasel asked.
“Get Chelli and Seni, have them get my armor ready. Halvrika?”
“Yes?”
“Ask the Arch-Adepts if they wish assistance in getting Adept Teref out of Engery.”
“I will. What are you going to talk to your father about?”
Trasta’s face was grim. “When you have a lump or an infection, you cut it out.” She gestured for the raccoon to follow her and they left the room.
Halvrika followed beside Trasta as she made her way to the King’s private apartments and paused only to knock on the door before pushing it open. “Father?”
King Aroki was seated behind his desk, a tall bull wearing the Order’s insignia standing before him. Both turned as the doe and the sow entered. “Trasta,” the buck said, “I guessed you’d hear from your friend.” He gave Halvrika a glare.
The raccoon bowed. “Your Majesty, Master Kulorn.”
The bull inclined his head. “Adept.” He turned back to the King. “Unless the Adept has anything to add, that concludes my report. Adept Teref reports that he is currently safe under your troops’ protection.”
“Thanks, Kulorn. Anything to add, Hringurhali?”
“No, Majesty.”
Aroki nodded. “I have sent a messenger to the Temple, Trasta. High Priest Makari and the Hierarchs were waiting for this.”
Trasta raised one eyebrow. “Waiting for this, Father?”
“There’ve been anti-Order preachers in the past, Daughter,” and he smiled. “The last one before this Gond character was when I was a boy. He spent the rest of his life gardening at a monastery up in the mountains, as I recall. But this,” and he nodded toward Master Kulorn, “is entirely different. The Order is under the Crown’s protection; that’s part of the Pact. Attacking a member of the Surveillant Eye demands a response.”
“Shall I rouse the levies in the Engery area?” Trasta asked.
“Word’s being sent to outlying districts. Your uncle will be commanding them.”
“Uncle Meki? Father, I’m your General – “
“No need to stain your paws, Daughter. Meki already volunteered for the job, and he’s a capable buck,” he added good-humoredly. “But because he’ll be leading the forces, you’ll be here to command the Household troops.”
Trasta straightened and placed her fist over her heart. “Yes, Father.”
Master Kulorn turned to Halvrika. “If you hear or scry anything, Adept, share it with us at once.”
“Yes, Master.” The sow and the doe left at the King’s gesture.
As they parted company at the gate of the Keep, Trasta asked, “How are you doing in your other studies?”
Halvrika understood that she was asking about her study of Jeresh the Black’s library. The raccoon replied, “Yes, I’m still reading them. It’s slow going, though.”
“I imagine you’d want to take your time, considering.”
“Oh, believe me, I want to go slow.” The raccoon cocked an ear at the doe. “Something bothering you?”
Trasta nodded. “Father’s giving the Hierarchy the job of reining in Gond. I saw High Priest Makari a while ago, and he didn’t look well at all.”
“Old?”
“Very. Makari’s about eighty. I’m afraid he won’t be able to do anything.”
“What about the rest - ?”
The elk snorted. “We’ll have to see about that.” Not wanting to cause a stir by kissing in public, the pair shook paws and Halvrika headed back to the Order.
***
Once she had returned to the Order, Halvrika found that Master Maffa had been busy. A series of spells were scattered on the floor and walls leading to her quarters, and she had to detect and dispel all of them just to get to her door. Finally the raccoon made it inside, warded herself, and opened the sealed chest near her desk.
Again, Jeresh hadn’t written his spells or his research in any sane order, requiring her to open several scrolls and try to piece the parts together. She got out a blank piece of paper, quill and ink and started making notes.
“Ah,” she breathed. The passage she found dealt with the Worms in the Apple and the spells that went into their making. She had to pick her way through the welter of other notes, but finally a coherent picture began to form.
Once the spell is actuated, its only purpose is to subdue the subject, she read. Whether woman or man, the spell will open them to control. You need not intervene directly, but watch and savor the sensations that they feel as the pleasure consumes them . . .
Halvrika swallowed hard. As she read, her memory tugged her back to her own experience with the spell. She’d been largely unable to resist, especially as Amb had inserted the dildos imbued with the spell into her vagina and anus.
Thank the Writ he hadn’t had a third one.
“Halvrika?” She turned at the voice, accompanied by a knock on the door. It was Master Maffa. “May I come in?”
The raccoon sow broke the ward on the door to admit the feline. “Don’t worry. I’m not in the mood to attack you today. Orn Jaas was a good friend.” She sighed, then grimaced. “Jeresh’s library?”
“Yes, Master. I felt that some study would help.” The sow shook herself angrily. “That damned Priest. I – I should’ve killed him – “
“Stop, Halvrika. Stop right there.” The feline’s voice was gentle, but there was steel under it. “Once you start to use your abilities to kill . . . let me ask you a question. What did you feel when you killed Amb Tokarv?”
Halvrika blinked. “I . . . I was angry . . . tired.”
“Angry. I can understand – “
No, you can’t.
“ – since he had violated you like that, and he had betrayed the Balance that the Order is built upon,” Maffa said. She sat on the edge of her bed, her paws in her lap. “You can reach out, right now, through the Writ, Halvrika. You can stop Gond’s heart just as easily as you stopped Amb’s. But,” and she raised a finger, “do you have the strength to stop?”
“Stop?”
“Stop. A war mage must be more closely attuned to the Balance than any other member of the Order, my dear. We have to have the restraint to know when to kill, and when to not kill.”
The raccoon nodded, and sat down beside her. “I think I understand, Master. But he’s killed – “
“Has he?” Her expression was kind, motherly.
That caused her to think. “He may have incited others to kill Orn.”
“And do you stop his heart for that? What of the person who steps up to replace him? And the next, or the next?” Maffa’s even, maternal tone never wavered. “How many furs must die by your paw? How many furs die before you succeed in justifying Crown Prince Meki’s opinion of the Order?”
Category Story / Fantasy
Species Raccoon
Size 440 x 757px
File Size 44.4 kB
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