Having received some of Vanora's provocations in the past, Jorian understood this. He even felt a twinge of sympathy for Boso. "How did you get away?"
"Oh, Boso's asleep, and my mistress and your Mulvanian spooker are so deep in magical converse that they never noticed as I slipped out." She put on the pleading look that Jorian had seen before. "Know you what night this is?"
Jorian frowned. "It is the last day of the Bear, is it not?"
"Aye. But does it mean aught to you?"
Jorian looked puzzled. "Nought special. Should it?"
"It was just two years ago that we parted in Othomae, when I took up with that brute Boso."
"So it is; but what of that?"
She moved closer. "Wilt not let a poor drabby correct her error?" She grasped Jorian's hand and drew it inside her gown, so that he grasped her right breast, while looking up at him with slightly parted lips.
Jorian felt a familiar stirring in his tissues. But he said: "My dear Vanora, that is over and done with." Although his pulse quickened, he withdrew his hand. "I'll have no more of those games until I get my own wife back."
"Now, forsooth! Since when have you become a holy anchorite? You were lusty enough two years ago, and at your age you cannot blame senility. Sit down!"
She gave him a sudden push, so that he sat down on the edge of the bed. She undid a clasp, dropped the emerald-green gown around her feet, sat down in Jorian's lap, and began to kiss and fondle him, murmuring: "Then you were the most satisfying of all my lovers, stiff as a sword blade and hardy as Mount Aravia. Oh, my true love, take me back! For two years I have yearned for the feel of your love, penetrating—"
"Get off!" he said sharply. In another moment, he knew, he would cast good resolutions to the winds, although he knew that Vanora would bring him nothing but trouble. As Goania had told him once, Vanora had the unfortunate talent of not only being chronically unhappy herself but of making those around her unhappy as well. "If you get not to your feet, I'll stand up and dump you on the floor!"
Pouting, she stood up but remained swaying nakedly before him. "What has changed, Jorian? Are you having one of your sudden attacks of virtue? You know it will pass."
Jorian looked up at her, secretly happy that he had not been compelled to stand up. This would, under the circumstances, have been difficult. "Nay; I merely resolved to do what I promised myself. Call it exercising my strength of character, if you wish; like lifting weights to enlarge one's thews."
"Why all that pain and trouble? Since the wizard Aello discovered a really effective contraceptive spell, nobody—well, hardly anybody— heeds all those old rules about who may bed whom any more."
"A philosopher at the Academy told me that our present promiscuity is but a fad that comes and goes, like fashions in hats or cloaks. Anyway, I remember you as careless with your contraceptive spells."
"Well, I've never gotten pregnant yet. Of course, were you the father, I might not mind…"
Jorian was of several minds: to lay her on the bed and have at her, to push her out of the room and throw her dress after her… Each course had its perils. If he treated her roughly, she might make trouble between him and Goania; he did not underestimate her capacity for stirring up quarrels. Or she might incite Boso to assault him. While he did not fear Boso, he did not want either complication, for such hostilities would interrupt his quest for Estrildis.
He fumbled for an excuse that would send her away disappointed perhaps, but not bent on revenge. At last his storytelling talent rescued him. He said:
"Sit on yonder chair, my dear, and I'll tell you what has changed. You remember my adventure on Rennum Kezymar, when I saved those twelve slave girls from the retired executioners of Ax Castle?"
"Aye. That was a noble deed, worthy of my Jorian."
"Thank you; but I have not told you half the story. As the Talaris sailed toward Janareth, the girls were naturally grateful at not being used to demonstrate those fellows' skills at flaying, blinding, beheading, and other quaint specialties of the executioner's art. The first night out from the island, one of the girls—I think her name was Wenna—came to my berth to show her gratitude, and I did not deny her.
"Next day, about noon, this Wenna was seized by horrible pains and convulsions. Within an hour, for all that Doctor Karadur could do, she was dead. We buried the poor little thing at sea.
"The following night, another girl came to me, and again I sought to pleasure her. And again, the following day, she was seized by cramps and convulsions and died. We wept as her body was committed to the deep.
"These sad events aroused a lively suspicion that there was a connection betwixt their carnal congress with me and their untimely fates. So Doctor Karadur performed a great conjuration. When he came out of his trance, he had located the source of the trouble. The executioners, such as were left after their free-for-all battle, were naturally incensed when they found I had carried off the slaves whereon they meant to monstrate their skills at the banquet. The wife of one, Karadur discovered, was a witch. At her husband's behest, she put a curse upon me, so that any dame with whom I copulated would die within twelve hours.
"Now, Vanora dear, if you wish to take a chance that the curse have lost its potency, let's have at it. But say not that I failed to warn you!"
She looked at him slantwise. "That flapping tongue of yours was always fertile in expedients," she said. "I know not whether to believe you. At Metouro you were ready enough."
"I was a little drunk and had forgotten the curse. Besides, your beauty had driven all other thoughts out of my head."
"Hm; I see you're still as smooth-tongued a flatterer as any courtier. Well, how about Estrildis? If the curse be true, her demise will soon follow your reunion."
"Oh, I won't touch Estrildis, even if I can get her out of Xylar, until the curse be lifted. Karadur is sure that he and Goania can devise an effective counterspell."
"I still think you're lying your head off."
"There's an easy way to find out," said Jorian, standing up and unlacing his shirt. "If that is what you want…" He pulled off his breeches.
"I see that not all of you has turned ascetic," she said.
"Who said it had? If you're fain to take a chance, lie down and spread out."
She hesitated, then stooped and picked up her dress. "Nay, you're as hard to grasp as a greased eel. What befell the remaining girls?"
"I sent them home from Janareth. Well, wilt chance it nor not? I cannot maintain this stance all night."
With a sigh she slipped on her dress. "Nay, I will not. I had but thought… But never mind. Boso may be a brute, but all his members are in working order, without curses save that of stupidity. Good night!"
Jorian watched her go with a wry smile and a mixture of relief and regret. It took all his strength not to call her back and confess that the story was a he. Actually, he had not carnally known any of the twelve slave girls until the night before they parted in Trimandilam. Then Mnevis, the leader, had insinuated herself into his bed without encouragement from him.
He had not told Vanora of his passing off Mnevis and the others at the court of Trimandilam as the Queen of Algarth and her ladies-in-waiting. He was already on the Mulvanians' grudge list for his theft of the Kist of Avlen. He did not wish to give Vanora information that she might, in a fit of malevolence, use against him. Naturally a frank, open, cheerful soul, with a tendency to talk too much and indiscreetly, he was learning caution the hard way.
Doctor Abacarus proved a bald, fat, clean-shaven, red-faced man with a high voice. He reminded Jorian of the eunuchs he had encountered in Iraz; but Gwidenus had told Jorian that Abacarus had children of his own.