“Is it true,” Damien asked, setting his cup down, “that the Lady Exadors have particularly hard labors?”
Randolf chuckled. “I know the rumors — that they all mysteriously die in childbirth — but that’s not actually true.” He smiled. “At least not every time. It has happened that several of them have become pregnant quickly after marriage and then died in childbirth, and several others died within months due to delayed effects, vapors or something. However, the current Exador’s mother was alive until he was five years old.”
“So these men simply have a predisposition for wives with poor constitutions?” Damien asked.
“It would seem so; further, they all come from the other side of Norelon, from distant lands. Never from local nobility. To be perfectly candid, if I had a daughter, I would not marry her to Exador.”
“Even though he’s been your most trusted advisor?” Damien asked curiously.
“Even so.” Randolf took a long drink of tea.
“Well, fortunately, you have a son, yes?” Damien asked.
Randolf shrugged. “I have an heir with my wife, Lady Magret, and I have a bastard with an old friend of mine. I have acknowledged both.”
Damien nodded. “Ardashir, who is eleven, and Darien, who is seven.”
Randolf smiled. “Exactly.”
“I am unclear as to what your position is on Exador. Do you believe he is an archdemon?” Damien asked.
“I have known the man for a very long time, and dealt with him quite closely. I assure you, he has never manifested any demonic traits that I can detect. I have, in fact, seen him conjure and control demons of multiple orders. By every measure listed in the Council library that I have ever tested, he is not a demon. None of the normal traits apply. That being said, the number of demons in the palace would be very hard for a wizard of even Exador’s caliber to control. Further, this Ramses fellow is quite an anomaly. I know no more of him than you. As to the woman, I again have no idea.”
“Well.” Damien sat back, slightly surprised. That was the clearest answer he had ever heard from the Archimage of Turelane. “That was very...”
“Direct?” Randolf said with a smile.
“My fellow councilor,” Randolf continued, “I want to assure you that whatever past relationships between Turelane, the Council, Exador and myself have been, I want to understand what is going on as much as anyone on the Council, and even more so. If Exador is an archdemon, it paints a very different picture of the history of both Turelane and Abancia.”
Damien nodded. “I understand. It would help explain a lot of things in your land’s past.”
“Exactly, and if he is not an archdemon, and/or he manages to clear his name, I’m going to have to continue working with him, as will my people.”
“The way you phrase that implies that clearing his name is not the same as not being an archdemon,” Damien observed.
“Well, if that’s how you choose to interpret my words, then so be it. However, in such case, it would be no different from the previous status quo, before the expulsion. He is a powerful influence in the region, archdemon or not, as he and his family have been for a very long time.”
Bess purred and rolled over to stroke Exador’s chest hair as the faux light of the Court’s simulated dawn streamed through the bedroom’s floor-to-ceiling window. “So, as of last night Lenamare’s wards were still around Freehold. This, naturally — and very inconveniently — protects the book, as well as causing the very sudden disappearance of one of the councilors in the middle of a siege.”
Exador snorted. “Yes, inconvenient would be the correct word.” He chuckled as he stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I spent a good amount of time venting my frustration yesterday.”
“Hmm,” Bess mused. “I assume someone, or ones, found that unpleasant.”
Exador laughed aloud at this, tilting his head up from the pillow to give her a gentle kiss. “Indeed. Unfortunately, nearly everyone here in the Abyss is a demon and for them, fireballs, lightning bolts and explosions are everyday occurrences. Anyway, they all regenerate.” He shook his head in half-mock sorrow. “It really takes the fun out of venting one’s wrath if there is no permanent destruction or loss of life.”
Bess grinned. “So is this why you’ve spent the last millennia or two living in Astlan? I’ve always thought it was such a strange choice of venue.” She made a mock shudder. “The climate there is so cold. The average temperature is less than a third that of boiling water.”
He gave her a gentle, mocking expression. “Says the woman who ups the power to my runic coolers every time she comes here.”
Bess laughed softly and lay back on the pillow. “What I love is the change in temperatures, from hot to cold and then back. It causes goose bumps, which is very erotically pleasurable in my fur.”
“Ehh.” Exador grimaced. “I hate that feeling of hair standing on end.”
“Yes,” she retorted, “but you are not a cat!”
“True.”
Bess frowned slightly for a moment. “But back to what we were discussing. How will you explain your disappearance to the Council? Are you going to tell them you were trapped by demon-caused debris in one of the lower chambers?” Bess shook her head. “But then, why wouldn’t you have just teleported out?”
Exador chuckled. “Yes, covering one’s tracks gets tricky at times; however, for that I have Randolf.”
“Randolf?” Bess asked, trying to remember who Randolf was.
“The Archimage of Turelane. If ever there was a more pusillanimous sycophant, I have never met them in my thousands of years of life. He will loyally cover for me. He’ll make up an excuse about my being called away on business in Turelane or something similar.”
“You have an archimage as fawning sycophant? That’s rather impressive,” Bess murmured, impressed.
Exador snorted. “Not as much as you might think. Remember, archimage is a title for a ruler; it is not an indication of mage ability. Not for over a thousand years. Randolf is completely inept as a mage. He’s lucky to keep a mage light following him.”
“So he’s more of a bureaucrat for you then? Administering things?”
Exador shrugged again. “One might think, but he outsources a lot of his governing duties to others. He mainly runs errands for me with the Council and others I don’t care to deal with.” Exador shrugged. “And spends hours locked in his room with his catamite.” He rolled his eyes.
Bess gestured to themselves in the bed. “I don’t think you’re in a position to criticize people for spending time in bed with a lover.”
Exador laughed, suddenly moving on top of her. “You are correct, so let’s make me an even bigger hypocrite!”
“Has your master lost his marbles?” Tom asked Estrebrius, raising his hands over his head in disbelief. The gateway had just snapped shut as Tom turned to face the little demon, causing a big change in the light level of the room. Estrebrius blinked.
“I, uh — I have no idea.” Estrebrius shook his head, completely befuddled and shocked.
“So you had no idea of his proposal?” Antefalken asked.
“No. I mean, obviously he was going to bargain for something, but I figured it would be a fixed transaction of some sort, not a full-scale plunge into insanity!” Estrebrius began pacing back and forth, trying to understand what his accursed master was thinking of.
“Every time I think these wizards can’t get any crazier, they prove they can!” Tom shook his head and took his seat. “He basically wants to be a demon slave? Like the reverse of the normal relationship?” Tom looked between Boggy and Antefalken. Tizzy was busy puffing on his pipe, strangely quiet. “So he’s just unhinged then?”