Chapter 24. The Master's Request

here did you find him?  He’s beautiful.”

Layla watched Ashe spread the sleeping figure out on the couch as if he were a work of art being placed on display.  The man’s pale flesh was almost translucent in the dawn sunlight spilling through the high bank of windows into the richly furnished drawing room.  His long flaxen forelock flowed around his finely proportioned visage.  Lightly built, she imagined he was graceful and limber.  A stubborn hank of golden hair flowed endearingly from a widow’s peak, giving his long face a wise aspect despite the childlike pout of his full lips.

“Do you like him?”

He was clad in Tyrian finery: a long burgundy frock coat draped over a linen poet blouse and form fitting breeches of black silk.  Ashe took pains to straighten the man’s clothing so that he created a tableau of carefree languor as one arm flowed over the side of the couch and the other was folded over his belly.

“He is one of the nicer ones you have collected.”

Layla felt a blush of excitement.  Would he use this one for a new lesson?  Ashe often put her in mind of a hunting cat teaching its kittens to kill by bringing home incapacitated prey.  Loving and cruel, her master provided for her in a way that no other teacher had ever dared. 

This one was extraordinary and it seemed a shame to destroy him.  Ashe nodded at her as she moved closer, running her hand along the man’s high cheekbones and letting his silken hair flow through her fingers.  She wondered how pliable he would be once he awakened.  Ashe liked his mesmer victims declawed, but he was careful to preserve a little of their hope and fighting spirit to make the lesson amusing.

“We are going to winter on the island,” Ashe said, “While we travel, he will be in your keeping.  I need him alive and unspoiled.”

So there was another purpose for this one.  Layla approved, smiling to herself. 

“What is he called?”

“Armand LeBlanc.  He is an uneducated circus performer.  He should not prove too difficult for you.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Simple restraints should prove adequate.  You may practice upon his mind, but his body is not to be marked.”

Layla smiled to herself as she unbuttoned the man’s fine linen blouse and gazed upon his chest, finding the expected runes of binding inked upon his flesh.  One day she would learn how to do this herself.  Ashe’s knowledge seemed vast and insurmountable for one so young.  He knew magical arts alluded to in ancient texts, powers to bind and alter reality, the ability to control others with no more than a thought.  Each of these disciplines required a lifetime to master and yet he wielded them all effortlessly.

She longed to see him at work, prayed that he would let slip the secret to his vast powers.  Perhaps on the island he would let down his guard.  The island was his retreat and what he did there he never discussed.  She was thrilled that she was finally being allowed to go with him.

“We travel to Kaineng upon the hour.  Drakkonus has already been tasked with packing the equipment and materials I requested.  I suggest you prepare yourself and our guest for the voyage.”

Layla bowed as Ashe paused to regard her from the doorway with his pale blue eyes, stark and beautiful.

“Do not fail me in this.”