Chapter 18 Kerik #2
Rumours about Kerik’s bed chamber tastes were one thing, a man who would give evidence before the Justice was another.
Because, although Kerik had taken many men to his bed before, none of them would ever declare it to the Rose Court, they would be condemning themselves as much as they would be condemning Kerik.
But the Fanosti had been coached by Vindar about exactly what to do.
He did not fall willingly into Kerik’s bed.
He had twisted things so it could be claimed that Kerik had given him no choice.
Kerik had fallen into a trap. A trap he could only escape by agreeing to a deal with Chancellor Vindar.
The deal was simple. Vindar would overlook this latest transgression if Kerik completed a mission for him. If Kerik traveled to Jur-Mattan to make a diplomatic arrangement with King Ramel’s mother, Queen Jareleezi. Who possessed some treasure the Rose Court wanted to obtain.
It was to be a simple trade. Those treasures for her safety. If she did not surrender then the Imperial Army would take Jur-Mattan.
Kerik had agreed. It seemed a simple enough proposal. And he was in no position to refuse. Lost memories come back to him in pieces. He remembers leaving on a ship bound for Pellex, Jur-Mattan’s wealthy capital city. He remembers setting out on a voyage across the Mortingale Sea.
But Kerik cannot remember reaching Jur-Mattan.
Was that where Perl took him? Somewhere on that journey. Back in the Starlight Tower, Perl had claimed he took Kerik from Lunatum. Lunatum was between Attar and Pellex. Was it that mission from Vindar that had sent Kerik into Perl’s path?
And that had led him here. To this terrible punishing cold?
Cold he is sure now, will kill him. But there is nothing he can do. No way to escape. He has never been so cold. He wants to sleep.
The door opens again. Kerik braces himself for more torment. He doesn’t know how he will resist whatever he is presented with next. He would not be able to refuse another offer of a fur cloak. He would go happily to the pit if it meant getting free of this cold.
Again he feels the light and warmth from the parlour. Again a figure appears.
“Perl?” he says softly.
At least if Perl came he could explain. He could tell him that he is too weak for this. Sob that he is sorry, but he cannot bear this cold any longer.
“Not your Master, no,” says a soft voice. For a moment, Kerik thinks it is the Queen. But when he blinks he realises it is Diamanda. She is carrying a tray of spicewine.
Kerik can see steam rising from the jug. He wants to cry at the sight of it. But she does not offer it to him. She sets it down on the floor by the doorway, saying, “Sorry, but you know you can’t take this.”
Kerik stares at the steaming jug. He wants it more than he can find words for.
He supposes he ought to be glad that she isn’t going to torment him with it, but he wants to scream at her, he wants to beg for that spicewine.
Perhaps that is her wish. Diamanda is the daughter of the heartless Queen.
Kerik has no reason to think she is not as cruel and sadistic as any fae of the Ice Court.
She moves closer to Kerik and sits down beside him on the ice, taking his hand.
Her fae skin — which should feel cool against Kerik’s — seems hot enough to burn.
“I’m glad Perl has you,” Diamanda says in a soft sweet voice.
“Please pass these tests so he can keep you. He needs you more than you could ever know.”
Kerik looks at her. The warmth from her body is enough to clear his head so that he can think of more than just the sheer horror of the cold. “Why?” he says. His voice comes out slurred as if he is deep in his cups. “What does Perl need protecting from?”
“He is tainted in ways you do not know,” Diamanda says.
“But it is not his fault. Many think he was not shamed enough for it. Many are bitter about his place here and all that happened to Ulla because my mother wished to keep him. She is delighted to have him back and he is a great favourite of hers, but she is fickle, if you do not please her in these tests, Perl will suffer for it just as much as you will.”
“If you are talking…” Kerik pauses, stops and swallows.
He is slurring and struggling to understand Diamanda’s words.
“If you’re talking of how he was caught kneeling for Seridil and lowered with iron he has told me all about that.
He said it was over. That he had taken his punishment and been forgiven for it. ”
Diamanda shakes her head with a small, sad smile.
“That is not the real heart of Perl’s shame.
When his perversions were discovered many thought that he was indulging so because of what he was rumoured to be.
My mother has long banned any mention of it.
But it is known. There are many fae who think that no true fae would have committed such acts.
” Diamanda lifts her pretty pale hands and blows on them.
“And that it was a sure sign of the taint within him.”
“What taint?” Kerik frowns at her. “What is he?”
“It is forbidden to speak of it. But he bears it. And all faekind know of it. It is even part of his name.”
“His name? What about his name?” Kerik’s frozen mind searches for what that name is. “Perlash-zeren-ai?”
“What does your name mean?” Diamanda says.
“My name? Kerik?” Kerik blinks. “It is an old Fanosti name. It is a name from the line of the Dukes of Fanost. My great-grandsire was named Kerik.”
“All fae names are Old Magaar. They are bound to their fae from birth and cannot be changed. I am Diamanda-zeren-ai. Ai, is for the Bell-ai, the ice fae, zeren refers to the Ice Court. Diamanda means wonder. My name means the wonder of the Ice Court of the Ice Fae. My mother chose it. Her name is Exeinil-que-zeren-ai. Exeinil means exquisite. The Qui means ruler. And Perlash means…” she stops and swallows. “It means shame.”
“Shame?” Kerik says. “Perlash means shame? His name means shame? Why?” He feels a dark sensation uncoil in his belly. Similar to the one he felt when he was first paraded through the Ice Hall, almost naked, with Perl’s name written on his chest.
With ‘shame’ written on his chest.
“Why would Perl’s parents give him such a name?”
“They did not. When my mother took Perlash as her ward he had no name. Neither of his parents survived to name him. Exeinil was not Queen of Ulla back then. She ruled Vylenor and the Ice Court, but Ulla was under the control of Oria and the Timeless Court. Her sister Sefi had ultimate control of both isles. Exeinil was only allowed to keep Perl if she allowed Sefi to name him.”
“So he was…, he was named by Vane’s mother?”
Diamanda nods her head.
“So what was so scandalous about Perl? Is it to do with his parents? What happened to them?”
“I know you must think my mother cruel. And she is. But she is nothing compared to her sister. Sefi changed her mind after Perl was named and demanded Perl was given to her when he was but a babe. Vane had come as the messenger to make this demand. Exeinil refused and instead took Vane hostage. She used dark magic to bind him to her and the Ice Palace. Vane is the only thing Sefi cares about. That is why he is here. As Exeinil holds Vane, Sefi cannot use her power to make the Ice Court obey the commands of the Timeless Court, despite their great power. Because Sefi will not risk Vane’s life. ”
“Vane was bound here when Perl was born, so he’s been here over two hundred years.”
Diamanda shrugs. “I suppose. Time is slippery.”
“Vane hates Perl for it?”
“He may do. Most of the time, I believe Vane is simply bored. He is used to a very different life. Oria, they say, is a dark place, wild and devoted to pleasures. Vane cannot even leave the palace. Although none of us can without risk. Sefi’s fae raiders surround us.
None of us can take to the skies. It has been this way for as long as many can remember. ”
“And all because of Perl.”
“Perhaps,” Diamanda says. She tosses her head, snow white curls dance in the frozen air.
“But truly that was so long ago. Now, it is about more than Perl. Exeinil got a taste for being a ruler in her own right. She keeps Vane here to protect her power. Many of the fae of Ulla blame Perl, and think Exeinil should have given him up to Sefi, but many more think she simply took her chance to snatch Vane and take control of the ice Court.”
“But, then, who is Perl’s father? What happened to him?”
Diamanda stands up. “I cannot be here longer. I am only meant to offer you the spice wine. But you should ask Perl. You ought to understand how difficult it is for him to be here. Why he left and why he should never have returned.”
Kerik looks at the spicewine again. He had forgotten it. It is no longer steaming. It has grown cool in the ice.
Diamanda takes up the tray and leaves. Kerik’s head swims. He cannot think straight. In this cold, he cannot process what he has been told. He cannot even find the will to think of warm things to soothe himself.
All Kerik can do is curl into a ball in the corner of the ice cell. He cannot stand this any longer. He cannot take another test if they are to be like this. Surely the pit can be no worse.
But he thinks of what Diamanda said. Perl is in danger if he fails these tests. Perl needs to prove he can Master Kerik. Not only because he needs to make the Ice Court forget his perversions with Seridil, but also because those perversions were seen as a sign of a deeper rot within him.
A rot that meant the Queen of the Timeless Court insisted he be named Shame. And demanded he be given to her because he was so tainted. And because of him, Vane is bound to Vylenor. Stuck here. A prisoner. And all of the Ice Court are trapped in this palace. All because of Perl.
And despite all of this, Perl came back here.
Came back to retrieve a sword that he believes is needed to defeat this demon.
And whether Perl’s stories are true or not, Kerik does not doubt that Perl believes them.
He is truly brave to return to this place.
Vane told him that the fae did not send the princes to defeat the Bellator.
That most faeries believe that mortals are traitors who deserve their fate at the hands of demons.
Perl is risking so much. If it were discovered what he was doing, surely, they would kill him for it.
The door to the cell opens again. Kerik looks up from his curled position in the corner. And this time, at last, it is Perl who stands there.
Perl races to him. “Kerik,” he says, wrapping his arms around Kerik’s body. “Kerik, the test is over. Let me warm you.”
Kerik cannot think. The warmth of Perl’s body is sweeter than anything he has ever felt.
But the test is not over. There were meant to be some specific words. “Then say the words you said you would say, Master,” he says. His voice is thick.
Perl kisses Kerik’s head. “Words? What words Oh my love, you are delirious.’
My love? Kerik blinks at Perl. “What are you doing?” he says. Perl calling him ‘my love’, kissing him. Either this is not Perl or it is Perl trying to tell him something is wrong. “This is not you.”
“Not me?” Perl says, “why would you say that? Let me warm you with my body. Let me make love to you now.”
Kerik almost laughs. This is not Perl. “No,” he says. “No. I do not want it. I obey my Master.”
Perl looks at Kerik in confusion. “But I am your Master.”
“No,” Kerik says, his weak voice as loud as he can make it. “Stop trying to fool me. I will not betray my Master.” He tries to spit at this fae, but his mouth is so dry and cold. “You’re not even him are you? This is a trick.”
“Is that what you think this is?”
And Kerik feels it then. Magic. Something that has to be magic uncurls inside his body like a tiny piece of heat. Like an ember from a fire has lit in his belly. It feels so good. The heat grows. Reaching out. Warming him. The most delicious feeling he has felt.
This is magic, but more than that, this is his own magic. The kind of magic he had thought he might be able to unlock by thinking warm thoughts.
“Perl?” he says.
“Oh, my sweet obedient thrall. Would you like me to make love to you?”
“No,” Kerik says firmly. “No. You have not said the words that mean the test is over. My Master told me to refuse all offers of warmth. So my answer must be no.”
“Very well,” Perl says. He pulls back. Kerik moans at the loss of Perl’s touch, but he can still feel his own sweet fire inside himself.
Perl stands and Kerik looks up at him. He reaches out and takes hold of the hem of Perl’s jerkin. Perl looks so beautiful. His eyes the colour of the bright blue sky of Attar in high summer. He feels so good.
Kerik throws his body forward. He wraps his arms around Perl’s thighs and sobs against the leather of his breeches.
“I will do it,” he sobs. Tears of misery and relief are flowing down his face.
“I will do it for you, Perl. I will complete any test. You deserve to have someone on your side here even if it is only a spoiled wretch like me.”
Perl reaches down. He takes Kerik by the chin. “Kerik Darekul?” Perl says. His voice sounds thick like he is holding back emotion.
Kerik swallows. “Zai, you are beautiful. It is not my taste but I would kneel before you if you truly wished it.”
Softly, Perl says, “But I know you do not.” And softer still, he says, “Thrall, you have pleased me.”
Those words are the finest sound Kerik has ever heard.
And as Perl speaks them he drops to his knees before Kerik on the icy floor, both of Kerik’s hands tight in his own.
And Kerik lunges forward and smashes his mouth into Perl’s, seeking heat, seeking safety, some kind of confirmation this is truly over.
Perl makes a soft noise of surprise and shock, but he opens his mouth, welcoming the kiss. Kerik presses his tongue between Perl’s lips, crushing into Perl’s body. Perl’s mouth feels like fire. He’s trying to consume it, like he wants to suck all the heat from Perl.
Their mouths are still connected when Kerik passes out.