An Ode to Uncertainty – Chapter 26 [Fantasy][MF]

Please read chapters 1 – 25 first if you have not done so. This is not a stand-alone story. Link to other chapters in comments.

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“Are you sure they will let us in,” Mirja whispered, then a giggle bubble up from nowhere.

The sparkling wine had gone straight to her head. It was the first time she had tasted anything like it. And it was wonderful.

“Just leave the talking to me,” Leopold said as they walked up to the guards.

The two armed men stood on each side of the heavy oaken door, staring straight ahead. As Mirja and Leopold approached, the guards put their hands on the hilts of their swords. Still not looking at either of them.

“The lady and I would want to see the throne room. My uncle, the archduke Wissgretch, would be most dissatisfied if he heard that we could not gain access.”

The two guards exchanged a glance. Then they looked at Leopold and nodded curtly, letting their hands fall to their sides. Leopold grabbed Mirja by the hand and dragged her after him. The door slid open quietly and they stepped into the long room. The door they had entered through was just at the base of the dais on which the throne stood. The room was dimly lit by a dozen orbs of light hanging far above. Mirja had seen them before in the College. These were the ones with variable strength. Somewhere there would be a control to let more power flood into them from the underground conduit. But for now, the lighting was perfect. At the other end of the room she saw two huge doors with the crest of the emperor inlaid in silver and gold.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Mirja said in hushed tones.

“But now we are,” Leopold said taking her into his arms and kissing her.

Mirja held the kiss for a long time letting the emotions carry her away. Then she felt Leopold’s body react to hers and she broke the kiss off and smirked up at him.

“Bend me over the throne, pull my dress up and use me.”

Leopold flushed and she could feel his flesh press against his pants. She ran her hand down over his dress pants and cupped his balls in her hand.

“Now,” she said smiling up at him.

The young duke pulled her over to the throne and Mirja giggled as he grabbed her by the waist and put her over the armrest of the gilded throne. She smiled wickedly as she felt his member against her quim. With a quick whisper she made herself ready to take him. She closed her eyes as he slid into her, she relished in the feeling of him filling her quim up.

“Take me hard,” she begged.

His loins slapped hard against hers as he obeyed her command. Mirja had to put her hands against the other armrest and breathed hard as Leopold used her. Her smile grew as she felt him approaching his climax. She whispered a little cantrip right before he erupted into her, making sure she would absorb every last drop of his seed.

“By the Gods, how I love you,” he gasped from behind, his flesh still twitching inside her.

“I love you too,” she said looking back over her shoulder.

There was a surge of power that almost made Mirja topple down from the throne. She drew in a sharp breath.

That’s when she heard the first screams. Then came the sound of heavy feet in the corridor outside. More shouting. Mirja got up and adjusted her dress. Together they made their way towards the ballroom. Mirja’s heart was hammering in her chest as they came onto the balcony looking down towards the open space. Putting her hands on the railing Mirja stared at the grotesque statue that now ornated the center of the floor. The man impaled on top stared with dead eyes towards the ceiling.

“By the Seventh,” Leopold breathed. “Uncle.”

Mirja hadn’t recognized him. His body was torn in half and his jaw was ripped off and hung on the tip of the marble spike that had lifted him twenty feet up. But there was no doubt. It was the archduke Gotthardt Wissgretch the second. She looked sideways at Leopold who had gone parch white.

“I’m so sorry,” she said putting her hand on his.

It was trembling and she squeezed it in hers.

“Is that Jarl?” Mirja said, straining to look past the throng of men that were in a pile on the floor.

Leopold snapped his face towards her.

“They know I’m weak. We have to go now before it’s too late.”

Mirja stared at him.

“Now. We cannot wait. They will have assassins coming for me any moment. The peace has been broken.”

Leopold dragged her behind him, away from the ballroom. As they entered one of the larger corridors, where a flood of people were all trying to get as far as they could away from the dead body, someone grabbed her arm.

“Mirja,” said a voice she recognized.

She looked up into the gaunt face of Master Olgric.

“Have you seen Sigrid?”

Mirja tried answering but Leopold yanked on her arm making her yelp. Master Olgric’s hand held her like a vice and she was suddenly stretched between them. Leopold almost fell over as the Master yanked her back.

“This is important. Have you seen Sigrid?”

Mirja shook her head.

“By the ancients,” Olgric said, shaking his head. “I can’t find her. She went after Master Cerdic and now she is gone.”

“Mirja. We have to go,” Leopold pleaded.

Mirja looked over at her lover and then back to Master Olgric.

“I have to look for Sigrid,” she said turning towards the young duke.

“There’s no time. You have to come. They will come after you also if you are a way to get to me. And you know you are. I can’t live without you.”

Mirja pulled Leopold towards her and kissed him.

“I won’t leave you. You go ahead. I will meet you by the Westerling parlor as soon as I can. Agreed?”

She saw the pain in Leopold’s eyes. He nodded.

“Please be quick.”

Mirja turned towards Master Olgric as soon as Leopold had left.

“What do you mean, went after Master Cerdic? You have to tell me everything.”

“Come,” the Master said and dragged her after him.

*

“You felt the surge of power, didn’t you?” Olgric asked as he closed the door behind him to an empty room with a few tables and chairs.

Mirja nodded.

“It did not have my senses open,” he said shaking his head. “I could not feel where it came from. But … the magnitude. I could not imagine that the northerner could have done it. Even if it sure looked like it.”

Mirja nodded. Master Olgric had told her about Jarl’s argument with the archduke and the ensuing spell that had impaled the man and split his body in half as they walked away from the ballroom. She agreed with Olgric. Even though Jarl was powerful, his power had no finesse. If he had conjured a pillar of marble it would probably have looked like a natural rock. Not a spike sharpened to a point.

“And you think that it was Master Cerdic?”

“I do not know,” Master Olgric sighed, his hair waving from side to side.

He looked more like a ghost than normal in the dim lighting of the room. Mirja did her best to think of him as an ally, not the scary Master who had Gods knew what locked up in his basement.

“What I do know is that Sigrid went after Cerdic immediately after the event. And I saw that she glanced at her compass. The one I made for her.”

Mirja nodded. It all made sense. The pieces were falling into place. Almost all of them. Cerdic had access to the laboratory where he could manufacture the potion to turn him into a wraith. But why would he want to kill the archduke and frame Jarl? The prince who had been his protégé and that he had spent so much time tutoring over the past semester?

“And now I cannot find her. I’ve tried scrying for her, but the power used by the spell that killed the archduke has drained all the conduits here,” he said looking around.

Mirja felt it also. There was only a trickle of power available in their closest vicinity.

“I think I have an idea,” she said nodding slowly.

*

“Are you sure about this?” Master Olgric said.

Mirja nodded. Sigrid had told her how well-endowed the Master was, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to him having her. Mirja looked up at the Master where he stood between her spread legs.

“Would you prefer my quim or my rear?”

The twitching in the Master’s eye as she said the latter told her what she needed to know. She reached down and touched her rear, making it slick for him.

“Put it in my rear. And make sure you have the incantation ready for when I gift you the power.”

Master Olgric nodded. And then she felt his glans touch her rear opening. She exhaled slowly as he sank into her. Sigrid hadn’t lied. He was massive. She grabbed the edge of the table she was lying on, her fingernails digging into the wood as he had his way with her. She had to concentrate not to fall over the edge herself. Only focusing on his pleasure and feeling his every thrust into her. He was breathing hard and his member was like an iron rod inside her. Then he climaxed and Mirja drew in all the power he gifted her with, stored it for an instant before reaching up to touch his chest and giving it back. She saw his eyes arch open, all of him becoming completely still.

His rod was still in her, as hard as before, and she couldn’t help herself. She grabbed his hips and impaled herself on his flesh. She didn’t need more than a few thrusts before she exploded in a blinding orgasm.

She lay there on the table and was dimly aware that he retreated. Breathing hard, from the climax and the channeling, she slowly opened her eyes and sat up.

“Did you find her,” she asked breathless.

The Master’s eyes were still open wide, staring at seemingly nothing.

“I … there …. I can feel her. So weak. She’s …”

He shut his eyes and spun around, running out of the room.

*Good thing he wore a robe otherwise he would have tripped and smashed his face*, she thought as she got up.

She drew a deep breath and headed out the door.

*

The corridor was packed with people and she couldn’t see Master Olgric anywhere.

*There’s probably not much I can do for Sigrid that the Master cannot*, she thought when she saw three men in blue and green coming from the left. She hesitated for a moment. It seemed like they were looking straight at her. It took another heartbeat to understand that they were, in fact, looking straight at her. All three of them.

*Blue and green. That’s the colors of the Burdogawi*, she thought, a chill running down her spine.

She pushed past a few noblewomen in her effort to put some distance between her and the Burdogawi. Looking over her shoulder she saw they were even closer now. She frantically looked around, then she saw what she was looking for. Walking as quickly as she could without running, she walked up to the palace guard that stood outside the door to the throne room. He was alone, his colleague had apparently left.

“Could you let me in again?” she said, letting her fingers touch his wrist and pushing a tiny trickle of desire into the man.

She saw him straighten up. She smiled up at him, doing her best not to look over her shoulder. He nodded and looking left and right he opened the door and Mirja quickly stepped inside. The guard closed the door behind him.

“You’d better lock the door,” Mirja said with a smile. “We wouldn’t want anyone coming in, now would we?”

The guard hurried to lock the door. Mirja turned around looking for the throne. It was twenty paces off. She started walking.

“Hey. Where are you going?” the guard said and grabbed her by the wrist.

She turned to face him, her first instinct to make him shrivel in pain. But she caught herself in time.

*That would have been a dire mistake. I have to use my power wisely. In fact …*

She looked up at the guard. He wasn’t half bad looking.

“Come. Sit on the throne.”

The guard hesitated. Someone banged on the door.

“Open up!”

The guard turned towards the door.

“Don’t mind them. It’s just you and me in here now,” Mirja said, sending another wave of desire over the man.

She quickly won him over. As they went towards the throne the banging on the door got louder and the shouting continued.

“Sit down,” Mirja instructed the man.

He hesitated. She sent another wave of desire, stoking his libido. He sat down.

“The emperor would have my head if he knew about this.”

“But he won’t, will he?” Mirja said, letting her hands search out the man’s rigid member and coaxing it out of his pants.

The yelling and banging on the door became more insistent. Before the guard had time to say something, she took him into his mouth. She didn’t have time for him to last, so she pushed him towards the edge as quick as she could and moments later, he erupted into her mouth. She opened her funnel wide and drained him dry.

As the guard collapsed down onto the throne, she was worried that she had killed him, but he seemed to be breathing. She wiped her mouth and smoothed out her dress. There came an ominous creaking noise from the door.

She looked over to the corner where she had spotted the signs when she had been in her with Leopold. Running towards the hidden door she rubbed her hands together. Breathing heavily she placed her fingertips under the four ovals, closing her eyes she concentrated. The signs were there. Now she could just hope that the damn thing worked properly.

The door finally gave up behind her, she did her best to ignore the footsteps heading towards her. She squeezed into the dark alcove as soon as it opened and channeled every last drop of power that she had taken from the guard and thought of the familiar shapes of the alcove in the Westerling parlor. She heard a crash behind her. Then the netherweave grabbed hold of her and dragged her into itself.

“By the Seventh,” she breathed as she stumbled out of the alcove at the Westerling parlor. “That was too close.”

She drew in deep on the familiar scent of perfume and incense, letting it calm her.

*

“This way,” the guard dressed in Wissgretch black and yellow said, leading the way out of the parlor, into the darkness of the night.

They had been waiting for her in the lobby of the parlor and had looked somewhat surprised when she came down the stairs. But they quickly recovered and escorted her outside. It felt so strange having armed men protecting her. She hadn’t ever needed that before.

She heard screaming coming from down the street and one of the guards grabbed her arm and headed down a pitch-black alley instead. Mirja saw a number of scuffles and the scent of burning came from time to time on the cold winter air. Fires giving a strange flickering red illumination to the city.

“Here,” the guard said suddenly.

Mirja looked up at the nondescript carriage that stood near the front of a large, equally nondescript, unlit building.

“Get in.”

Mirja looked at the man. It didn’t seem like he would accept a no. She climbed up and the carriage door slammed shut.

“My love,” Leopold said, throwing his arms around her.

Mirja hugged him back. He took her face in his hands and kissed her.

“Go! Go!” came a voice from outside and the carriage started down the road.

Mirja leaned back against the soft backrest and tilted her head backwards. The last bell had been a tumult of emotions. Jarl was likely in the dungeons under the palace and Sigrid was the Seventh knew where. Mirja shook her head. The curtains to the carriage were drawn and as her hand moved to draw them back, Leopold’s hand stopped her.

“Better not. Not before we have left the city proper.”

She looked at him in the dim light. She had ever seen him so scared.

“We’ll be fine,” he said, putting his hand on hers, smiling a thin smile.

Mirja nodded. She could smell the smoke in the air. It was getting stronger. Beyond the next hill the lights of blazing fires could be seen. Another two bells passed before they finally left the city behind.

“Where are we going?” Mirja asked as she saw the eastern gate disappear behind them.

“We’re heading to Litowke. We cannot go straight to Schwabenland. The Burdogawi will be looking for me at the border. We have to take the long way home.”

She kept looking out the window as they went eastward. Leopold was soon asleep next to her, snoring slightly.

Mirja still felt the shadow of guilt loom over her as she looked back on the hills of Eldor. They were there somewhere. Sigrid and Jarl. Her friends. Even Jarl was her friend she realized, despite being an idiot from time to time. But now she had left them behind to fend for themselves. She looked over at the sleeping Leopold and ran her fingers over his brow. Then she fell asleep.

***

This is the end of An Ode to Uncertainty.

The Fourteenth Son Saga will continue in An Empire in Arms.

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This was the final chapter of our book An Ode to Uncertainty.

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/Lisa & Peter

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