Chaos and Entropy

Author’s Note: I’ll bet Elminster never had days like this.

Chapter 4…A Needful Document

Mekrath had hustled Haer’Dalis out the door while I was sleeping, before I’d had a chance to talk to him in private. I woke groggy and dull. The wizard, curse him, positively bubbled with energy. I wondered if he’d stolen it from me like an incubus.

I knew he hadn’t. I was just sleepy, grumpy, more than a little sore and in desperate need of a bath. Haer’Dalis, once released from his geas, hadn’t been in a rush to escape and, well, the evening had been packed with adventure, as they say.

Besides, I’ve never been a morning person even when I get enough sleep. Mekrath’s cheerful chirping rubbed on my nerves.

He quizzed me on my spell knowledge over breakfast and told me to bring my spell book so he could check it over. Oh boy, didn’t that sound fun? Thank Mystra I’d left it at the Copper Coronet or he would have started drilling me right away. While I was busy memorizing the spell to pass through his wards (so I could come and go if he was out), one of his pet mephits flew into the room with a message.

“Ah, very good,” Mekrath said, once he’d read the slip of paper. “Corneil has agreed to meet you tonight.”

“So soon?”

I hadn’t had time to decide if I was nervous about this or not. I hadn’t confided my interest in the Cowled Wizards to Mekrath but his attitude had made it clear that he considered Corneil to be a very minor official. There probably wasn’t much chance he would know anything about Imoen or where his colleagues had taken her.

Mekrath waved his hand in an ambiguous gesture then started coaching me.

“Wear something alluring,” Mekrath said. “But act demure. I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed this but your constant and incessant mouthiness is not to everyone’s taste.” I made a face but he wasn’t done. “Corneil’s a little kinky but he won’t tolerate backtalk, especially from a young woman. Play along and you’ll have that license in your pocket by tomorrow morning.”

“Kinky?” I asked. “How kinky?” What in the Nine Hells would Mekrath consider kinky, anyway?

“Do you object to pain?”

“Of course I object to pain. What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Have you never noticed that weak men are the likeliest to play dominance games?”

“No, I haven’t.” But come to think of it, how many weak men did I know? “What kind of dominance games?”

“Oh, he might want to spank you, something like that. Do you think you could pretend to be cowed, maybe work up a few tears?”

All I’d have to do was think of the five thousand pieces of gold the Cowled Wizards wanted to charge me for my mage’s license and my tears would flow like rain.

When I returned to the Copper Coronet, I slipped up the back stairs to avoid any barrage of questions. Unfortunately I passed Jaheira on the stairs. She sniffed, and then narrowed her eyes into one of her disapproving looks. Gods, could she smell sex on me even after I’d bathed at Mekrath’s place? Sheesh, it’s hard to hide anything from a druid.

But she didn’t give me a lecture, just told me I’d had a message from my guild house and it sounded urgent. I didn’t take that too seriously because all their messages sounded urgent. Half the time the big crisis consisted of settling a squabble more appropriate for a nursery than a thieves’ guild.

Jaheira had strongly disapproved of me taking control of Mae’Var’s operation. Her frown deepened. I’d have to go see what they wanted—but first I needed a nap.

I hadn’t planned to sleep so long. By the time I woke, I barely had time to get ready for my ‘interview’.

I met Mekrath at one of the big plazas in the Gem District. Alluring but demure was a strange combination; I wore my low cut silk dress with a shawl pinned over it. I’d borrowed the shawl from Nalia. It looked like something my grandmother would have knitted if I’d had a grandmother, which I didn’t.

“Perfect,” Mekrath said with a low laugh. That was after he hooked a finger through the shawl and pulled it down so he could ogle my cleavage. Pervert. “But let me do something with your hair.”

I thought wearing it loose would look sweet and modest but he tied it back for me.

“Let’s show off those ears. Elves are rare in Athkatla. I’m sure he’ll find even a half-breed like you exotic,” he said. “And there’s something about a bouncing pony tail that’s hard to resist.” He eyed me with satisfaction. “Now you look like a naughty schoolgirl. I’m tempted to pull you over my knee and give you a good spanking myself.”

“Lay a hand on my ass and you’ll pull back a stump.”

“Ah, ah,” he admonished. “Demure, remember?” He gave me a long frowning look. “If you speak like that to Corneil, my patronage cannot save you from the wrath of the Cowled Wizards. Individually they may be fools, but collectively, they are a power in this city. You would do well to remember that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember.”

“I’m serious. If you decide to play this game, you’re committed to seeing it through, even if that means holding your tongue for once.”

“I’m committed.”

And I was. I’d heard horror tales of what happened to unlicensed mages in this town. Not being allowed to cast so much as a cantrip was getting to be more than an inconvenience. If I walked out of a back-alley ambush with a Stoneskin still up, I could end up wherever Imoen was now. And then how would I save her?

“Are you certain? Even if the situation becomes…unpleasant?”

“I’m certain, I’m certain. Stop nagging me.”

We met the Cowled Wizard at his home. The house itself was modest in size but its location, right on the fringes of the Gem District, was a desirable one. Corneil met us at the door.

At first glance, the furnishings impressed the eye with their richness. Second glance revealed the fact that the carpets and lamps were Amnish knockoffs of their more valuable originals. Still, a good knockoff wasn’t dirt cheap. The mage must be reasonably prosperous.

Of course, robbing the guy I was seeking a favor from was probably a bad idea. Still, if I saw anything choice, maybe I could send one of the thieves from my guild house over to collect it later.

“It is my servant’s day off,” Corneil said, as if he needed to apologize for opening his own front door. “Mekrath, it’s good to see you.” He then looked down at me and raised his brows.

“This is Minette of Candlekeep. She is my protégé.” He gave the last word a bit of emphasis and I fancied the two men exchanged a conspirator’s glance. Quickly I dropped my eyes before Corneil could catch me peeking. The two talked over my head as I stood there, as demure as all get out. I felt smug about my acting ability. Maybe I could sign on with the Sigil Troupe when this was over.

Mekrath spun his tale about how I was new to Athkatla and unfamiliar with the city’s ways, how impressed I had been with the power of the Cowled Wizards and how in need I was of a strong guiding hand. I thought he was laying it on a bit thick but Corneil swallowed it all. Wasn’t this just a bit too easy? I opened myself to the Weave.

Ah. I hadn’t even noticed Mekrath’s spell of charm and persuasiveness, subtle as it was. It was woven into his very breath. Damn, he was good.

“And so it occurred to me that you might be willing to instruct my young student and prepare her to earn her practitioner’s license. You know so much more than I do of the ways of our world, old friend.”

“Why, certainly,” Corneil said. “I’m always happy to set the feet of an aspiring mage on the right and proper path.”

“Then I will leave her in your capable hands,” Mekrath murmured. “Obey Master Corneil with all diligence,” he said without even a wink or a smile. Then he was gone.

Corneil was a thin and tall human with a slight stoop. He was about fifty, I guessed, but with wizards it was sometimes hard to tell. His hair was cut short and his beard was carefully tended. He wore a traditional wizard’s robe but at least he didn’t affect the pointy hat, a fashion that hadn’t caught on in mage-hating Amn. He wasn’t a bad-looking man but his face had the pinched look I associated with misers and constipation.

“Well, now, girl. Minette, is it? What should I do with you, I wonder?” I peeped up at him. “Come, pour us some wine and let us converse a bit.” I followed him into his sitting room. He gestured to the decanter and then took a seat on the couch. I poured two glasses and gave him the full one.

“So, tell me, what leads a pretty little thing like you to the study of the arcane? The work is hard and exacting.”

So I could Fireball my enemies into greasy spots, of course. Was there any other reason?

“I have always wanted to serve a great and mighty wizard,” I said. Demurely.

“To serve is a great honor. Mekrath—is he a harsh taskmaster? These elves—well, one never knows.”

Ah, so Corneil was a racist as well as a misogynist. And kinky. Let’s not forget kinky. Oh, boy. How best to answer this?

“He is fair. Sometimes I struggle with my lessons and then he is forced to correct me.” I gave him what I hoped was a shy look, to see how he was taking this nonsense. Well enough, it seemed. He looked pleased.

“Yes, I have found with my own apprentices that a firm hand is kindest in the long run. If you wish a mage’s life, you must first and foremost learn discipline. Discipline and obedience—they are crucial to your future. Do you understand me, young Minette?”

“Yes, sir. I think so, sir.”

“We shall see. I think perhaps this is a good time for me to test you a little and see how you are coming along in your lessons.”

I wondered if he had any idea the sort of ‘lessons’ I’d been receiving from Mekrath. This could be interesting.

He started out by asking me questions any first year apprentice ought to be able to answer. Since Mekrath had claimed me as his student, I didn’t see any point in acting like a dunce. I answered correctly, although with a soft voice and a bit of hesitation in my words. I also fiddled with the fringe on my shawl and managed to pull it down in front enough to give him a hint of the cut of my gown. He noticed.

He had me stand and demonstrate the hand movements and positions for several common spells. Again, I saw no point in feigning incompetence. He stood beside me and made a couple of unnecessary corrections to my stance or gestures, all of which required putting his hands on me.

“Take off your wrap,” he said. “It seems to be interfering with your free movement.”

“Thank you, sir,” I murmured. “It is warm in here, isn’t it?” I unpinned my shawl and laid it on the arm of the sofa. I leaned forward a bit to improve the show.

“Do you think it’s possible, sir, that I will be able to earn my mage’s license?” I asked breathlessly. “It’s so important to me. I’d do…I’d do anything you wished to prove my…my dedication.”

Corneil gave me a hard look. For a moment I thought I’d rushed things. Then he smiled—a cold thin smile. He put his hand on my shoulder. Then, watching my face, he let his fingers run along the edge of my bodice, down, down, over the tops of my breasts. I lowered my eyes and then shifted slightly, pressing against him.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I need this license, I told myself. It could save my life one day.

He cupped my breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze until the rim of my nipple peeked out. He rubbed my nipple with his thumb until it formed a hard nub.

“An aspiring mage must be discreet as well as obedient,” he said.

He then took my nipple between his fingers and gave it a hard twist. I gave a little cry—it hurt, damn it—but I didn’t move away (or punch him). He tugged at my dress until both my breasts spilled out the top. He then kneaded and rubbed them, squeezing and pinching at my tits with deliberate roughness. My nipples were hard pebbles.

“You like this,” he said. “Don’t you, girl?” When I didn’t answer, he grabbed my ponytail and yanked my head back. I gave a fearful nod. He laughed. “I thought so. I’ve heard stories about Mekrath’s little sluts.”

With his fingers twined in my hair, he pushed and jerked me through the house to his bedchamber. Like the rest of the house, the room was very neat and clean. I thought he’d ask me to strip but he gave me a push and a shove so that I was bent down over the high platform bed.

“Pull up your skirt,” he said. “Let me see what you wear under that whorish dress.”

I raised the skirt of my gown until it was bunched up around my waist. At Mekrath’s suggestion, I was wearing nothing but air and my flat sandals underneath the silk.

“I thought as much,” he said with satisfaction. I heard him moving around behind me but I couldn’t tell what he was doing. He opened the wardrobe door and then shut it again. He must have taken something out. I very much wanted to know what.

“I expect you’re a lazy girl,” he said. “You’d rather spread your legs for every boy you meet than apply yourself to your lessons. Is that right?”

I mumbled something that could be taken for an apology. A burning slash across my buttocks made me jump and cry out. When I twisted to see what he’d done, he hit me again.

“Did I ask you to speak?” He moved to the end of the bed so I could see the leather belt dangling from his hand. “What you need is a good strapping. Isn’t that right?”

If I wasn’t to speak, just how was I supposed to answer? I stared at him with wide eyes. I felt very exposed with my ass poked up in the air. He pushed my dress up further. And then the belt came whistling down.

I figured he’d give me a token slap or two and then we’d get down to the fucking. I figured wrong. He waled away at my ass like he was trying to drive me through the bed. I was quiet for the first few blows and then I began to whimper and cry out. I twisted, trying to avoid the lash of the leather but my tiny move of escape seemed to excite him into a frenzy. My poor abused buttocks burned like fire and the tears in my voice were only partially feigned when I begged him to stop, please stop.

Pain is always worse when you can’t hit back.

At last, it ended. I think his arm got tired. He threw my skirts up over my head so I couldn’t see what was going to happen next. I heard the rustle of cloth. He was opening his robe, no doubt. Here it comes, I thought. He took my burning cheeks in his hands and gave them a squeeze.

“Now this is what I like to see,” he said. His breathing was heavy and I didn’t think it was solely from his exertion. He rubbed his fingers across the welts he had raised. “If I had it my way, girls like you would have to take all their meals standing up.” He gave my ass a stinging slap with his open palm. He took another deep breath and exhaled on a low moan. Something hot and wet spurted over my bare buttocks. Sune’s tits, he’d jerked off all over me.

“You may thank me now.”

“Thank you, Master Corneil,” I mumbled. I kept my eyes downcast to hide my not-so-demure fury.

“Oh, get up, girl,” he said. I stood and straightened my gown. “You may go. Tell your master I’ll send him your license in the morning.” He gave me a hard look. “It is provisional, of course, on your continued good behavior. Tell him he may send you back to me anytime he feels you need a little additional motivation to keep you at your studies.”

I dropped a curtsey and fled the house. Five thousand gold, I told myself. I did this for five thousand gold. I supposed it was worth it. But that damned Mekrath owed me big time for setting me up for this.

Mekrath laughed at my curses but his fingers were tender as he rubbed cool salve into my sore ass.

“Poor honey,” he said. I scowled. “Shall I tell you Corneil’s dirty little secret?” His eyes shone with mischief.

“You’d better,” I grumbled.

“He never undressed before you, did he? Never slipped you the serpent at all, eh? Never even rubbed up against you, I dare say. There’s a reason for that.”

“Spill it.” I leaned across the bed in a position uncomfortably reminiscent of the one I’d just endured. I could feel the welts and soreness disappear almost immediately but now Mekrath’s clever fingers were rubbing salve in a spot where the belt hadn’t touched. Oh, no, not that again. I’d told him I wasn’t interested in that particular delight but he was damned persistent. I turned my head to give him a frown.

“Corneil had an unfortunate accident while trying to combine enlargement and permanency spells. His spell misfired disastrously and he hasn’t managed to find anyone capable of dispelling it. Ha, ha.”

“I assume he wasn’t trying to enlarge his brain.”

“You assume correctly. Corneil’s serpent is now the size of a worm. He doesn’t dare go to any of his brothers in cowls for aid, lest he lose his own standing. Such personal enhancement magics being forbidden, you see. So if he’s a tad bitter, you can hardly blame him. Eh?”