**Hi everyone, thanks so much if you've read this far, it really means a lot. This is the final chapter in the current volume. The next volume to begin will be A Paladin's War.
- Anti.**
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20.1: Plans
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It was hours later when Shenla left Ossarom's tent. She stood outside for a moment and looked around. The world looked... different, somehow. The towering trees in the park shifted this way and that as the wind tugged at them sporadically, just as it tugged at her hair and clothes. It was hard to tell time with the dense clouds blanketing the sky, but she thought it might be the early hours of the morning. She walked absently, only partially aware of the fact her body was moving. To which direction she was going, she paid no attention. She felt... raw, and somehow numb at the same time. Waves of emotion crashed through her, threatening to bring fresh tears to her eyes despite the fact she had just spent the last several hours crying into Ossarom's shoulder like a hurt child.
Such weakness, a voice began in her head, but she shoved it aside, unwilling to listen anymore. There was another presence inside her, now; a warm light nestled in her heart, giving her strength, though it was strength of a different kind than she was used to. Maloth had always warned against kindness, compassion, caring, saying it was the gateway to loss and pain, but if this was what love felt like, Shenla wanted to hang onto it. Is it love? She asked herself tentatively. Her body was so awash with warmth that she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It wasn't until she was almost back to the palace that she knew where she was headed, and a feeling of dread welled in her belly at the thought of what she knew she had to do next. It had been a long time since she'd felt real fear, but this time it wasn't fear for herself; it was fear for those she cared about. She stood for a long time in the grand square in front of the palace gates, gazing up at the shining golden towers as if she could see into them. Steeling herself, she started for the gates.
It didn't take her long to find her ahk'sheth; she could find them anywhere in the world, given enough time. They were in the deeper levels of the palace, down near the servants' quarters, where they were less likely to be disturbed when they wanted peace. Shenla avoided attention as she made her way through the winding halls and passages of the palace; she did not want to be diverted from her goal. When she finally opened a small, nondescript door several levels beneath the ground, she found Barrog, Peldin, Torvin and Caeledrin all standing around a table littered with chips of various gems. They were facing the door as if expecting her arrival; they would have felt her approaching. A half-dressed Tar'elda girl was standing off to one side, her pale body exposed from the waist up and her hair somewhat dishevelled; obviously the men had been having some fun with her, and by the flush of her cheeks and chest and the sparkle in her eyes, she had been enjoying herself, too. The girl was forgotten now, though, as the four men only had eyes for Shenla.
"Mistress," Barrog began. "Are you well?" A big fireplace at one end of the room kept the space warm enough that the men had all forgone shirts, and Shenla was treated to the sight of their fit bodies naked to the waist. Had she ever told them how beautiful she found them? How strong? How impressive they were? She couldn't recall a single time such, and that was one more reason why she had to do what she had to do. Holding the door open, she looked at the serving girl.
"Will you leave us, please?" She asked the girl politely. Bending her slender frame in a quick curtsy, the pretty girl hurried past Shenla and out the door, pulling her robe back over her shoulders as she went. Shenla pushed the door closed behind her and stood for long moments, meeting the gazes of her men. Pets, she had regarded them once, but no longer. "You may have sensed a difference in me," she began quietly.
Peldin nodded. "We did, Mistress. We were concerned but decided we shouldn't disturb you."
Shenla smiled at the Mor'elda. "You made the right choice, though whatever change I have made is still settling. I am unsure what will become of me, but that is of no import. I came to tell you that I am sorry." All she got in reply for a moment was blank stares.
"Sorry for what, Mistress?" Torvin asked with a frown. "You do not need to explain yourself to us for anything." Shenla cringed inside. This is what she had been afraid of; she had altered their minds to the point they could not function independently, which made her next act even harder.
"I enslaved you!" She cried suddenly, driven by a surge of remorse. She almost wished she could go back to how she was before, so she didn't have to feel so... rotten. "I took your freedom! Your will! I made you do my bidding no matter what you wanted! I made you betray your own people! Does that not make you want my head on a spike?"
There was silence after that, and Shenla was sure she'd gotten through to them. "Mistress," Caeledrin began smoothly. "I, for one, do not see things that way."
"Of course, you don't!" Shenla retorted. "That's what my power does, may I rot for it. You are not yourself, Caeledrin. None of you are since the binding." She was surprised, however, when Caeledrin shook his head. His long, silky hair shifted on his chest and shoulders with the motion. Desire stirred in her, ever present even now, but she stuffed it down.
"Once, I wanted to rule," the tall Elf said. "But I learnt long ago that any difference I make to this world is fleeting and insignificant compared to the ebb and flow of the cosmos. All I wanted was the pleasures of life, to enjoy while I am here. You have given those to me in adequate quantities, and you ask very little in return. I resisted you, at first, but now I see the truth."
"As much as I am loath to admit," Peldin added. "I agree with the Tar'elda. Berenor was a fool and serving under him was a pain in my neck. The Mor'elda will be far better under Adelain than her brother." It was true; Berenor had been weak-minded and impulsive. Shenla was under the impression that he never would have ascended to the throne of Eredor had Adelain not been pulling the strings in the shadows, keeping his enemies too busy fighting one another to contest him. Peldin's disdain for his former king often surfaced in conversation.
"And what of my brother?" Shenla countered. "And the way he treats your queen? I ask that same question of you all, for each of you are in a similar predicament. Morana, Kreya, Ellerion, all Maloth's to do with as he pleases, and they will run to do his bidding whenever he snaps his fingers, and I guarantee you, he does not consider their wellbeing beyond keeping them healthy for his own strength."
Torvin answered the question. "Our loyalty lies now to you even before our rulers," he said firmly. The others all nodded in agreement. Strange, to see four men so different, so opposed, all aligned. They all had one thing in common above all else: Shenla. "I, too, was less than happy with Morana's rule. I think Kreya will do well, but her treatment under Maloth is not my concern, unless it becomes a concern for you."
"I cared for my wife once," Caeledrin said thoughtfully. "Though her ideals gradually became mundane, to me. We grew apart as the years went on, and she became more dedicated to her causes and earning the love of the people. I amused myself as I saw fit, and quickly I all but forgot about her." Shenla couldn't believe what she was hearing. They didn't care? She shot a look at Barrog, the only one who had been silent on this matter. The big Orc was stroking his chin as he listened to Caeledrin.
"Beshok was a good Chieftain," he said slowly in his bass voice. "But he is dead now. I see no point in lamenting what cannot be changed." Shenla almost laughed hysterically. She had been dreading this conversation since leaving Ossarom's tent, perhaps even longer, if her troubled feelings of late were anything to go by, and yet by all appearances she was the only one who gave a damn!
"He is dead because I killed him!" She spat, angry that they couldn't see what she saw. "I would have bound him as you are bound to me, but for a flaw in my abilities!" Her hot gaze turned on Peldin and then Torvin. "The same goes for Morin and Berenor! They met their end at my hands, or close enough!" The men all looked at each other, and Barrog shrugged. Shrugged!
"They were weak," Peldin said as if that explained everything. "They did not have the strength, or the brains, to save themselves, so they died."
"Oh, fire and fury," Shenla moaned in exasperation, putting her face in her hands. "Then what does that say about you four? You fell under my spell with so little effort on my part." This was it; this was the part where they realised their mistake and demanded release, or even death.
"We chose you," Barrog replied. That pulled Shenla up short. They chose her? She brought her hands down and listened as the Orc went on. "We have all discussed it, the moment you bound us to you. We all felt a chance, a window, to reject your hold over us, even knowing it would mean certain death, but we didn't take it. Deep down, we wanted what you offered."
Shenla let the words sink in in silence. She had never imagined this outcome. Could it really be? Could she keep her ahk'sheth? A strong pulse reverberated inside her body as the felt a shifting in the link between herself and the men. The four pairs of eyes across from her widened as new sensations were suddenly made available to them; the feelings of their mistress, carried back through a bond that had previously been largely one-directional. In that moment, Shenla knew that the relationship between her and these four men was now changed forever. She had considered them beneath her, but now she was seeing them as equals.
"I..." She didn't know what to say. "Am in your debt."