Elf-Boy's Friends 14
The Troll War, Part V
Industrial Magic and Light
by George Gauthier
[The further adventures of characters from the novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends']
Chapter 1. The Capital
The cute copper-topped youngster looked up from his desk at the Institute for Wizardry as his roommate and lover Drew Altair walked in and greeted him with a wave.
Drew was an impossibly cute twink with spiky auburn hair and narrow sideburns reaching below the ear lobe plus straight eyebrows with almost no curve to them. They framed a fine-boned face with a high forehead, chiseled jawline, and a perky nose turned up just a bit at the end. Drew was slight in build, standing only five foot zero and weighing but a hundred pounds, yet his tiny frame was easily twice as strong as it looked, enhanced by the same druidical healing magic that had lengthened his life and youth.
His lover Axel Wilde, still, only eighteen was nearly as short and fair of skin, with hair the color of copper. Axel was extremely boyish looking, his cute face dominated by large green eyes over heart-melting dimples.
"Congratulations again Drew on your third Writers' Prize."
Drew was still aglow from the awards dinner held the evening before.
"Thanks Axel, though my book about the troll war left the story hanging. This war is far from over. The creatures are still on the attack, scourging the coasts of the the Great Inland Freshwater Sea and the lands lying up the rivers flowing into it."
"With their shallow draft longships they can row up small tributaries, arriving before the news of their depredations downstream. Their mobility is their chief advantage even more than their physical prowess compared to humans."
Trolls were not particularly tall, generally standing about six feet, but they were heavy boned and hugely muscled, weighing three hundred pounds or so. They were wide and squat like dwarves only two feet taller. In a sense trolls were to Frost Giants what dwarves were to humans, except they were hideous whereas the dwarves were merely homely. The bodies of trolls were hairy, and their faces were misshapen featuring beast-like muzzles with jaws armed with two pairs of tusks. When grappling with a foe in close combat, they could rip out his throat.
"And we still don't know where they come from. Somewhere in the southern ocean is what the Admiralty thinks." Drew added.
"What lands lie out there anyway? I thought it was all endless swells on a boundless ocean all the way to the south pole."
"Who really knows? So much of Haven is unexplored, especially in the higher latitudes in both hemispheres. The ships that ply the outer oceans engage in coastwise commerce or across the narrow seas to the other two continents which straddle the equator. There is no reason for them to sail off toward who knows where. The coastal states have never seen fit to outfit expeditions to explore those regions. And it is not the job for the Commonwealth anyway to find out. Situated as we are in the heart of the continent, ours is not a salt water navy. The job of the Navy is the security of navigation and of the states on the coasts of the the Great Inland Freshwater Sea."
"Anyway let's ask our resident naval expert. What do you think Liam?"
Their fellow roommate and lover Liam served as a war wizard in the Navy with the rank of Warrant Officer and had fought the trolls at sea near the Scilly Isles and on land at the battle of Flensborg.
A well-set up lad with a fine healthy body, Liam was just under medium height and on the slender side but with a strong upper storey. He had wide shoulders and muscled arms from his former job as a teamster. Liam was blessed with good looks too, a real raven-haired beauty though you would have to describe him as pretty rather than handsome. His fine-boned features were accented by a light sprinkling of freckles. He had the mismatched eyes of a war wizard; his left eye was blue and the right brown. Thanks to his wizard's eyes, his sight was keener than normal and he could see in the dark or rather very dim light like a cat.
"From the southern coast of the continent come tales told in dockside taverns of a vast archipelago lying far out to sea in temperate latitudes. Sailors tell of a dark land of cruelty and endless conflict."
"That sounds like trolls all right." Axel commented. "Where did you get that from, Liam?"
"From Nathan's last letter. He has been Mentioned in Dispatches for his role in destroying another enemy flotilla at the Scilly Isles. The Admiralty is transforming the roadstead there into a forward base of operations for patrols in that sector of the the Great Inland Freshwater Sea. They also rescued a plucky young castaway whom the trolls never suspected was living on one of the islands."
"As you know, Nathan resumed his old posting on the Petrel, now under the command of Captain-Lieutenant Dahlgren. Commodore Dekker wanted Nathan to have room to grow, so he did not take him to the flagship when Dekker took over Commodore Van Zant's squadron. He brought over only his cabin boy.
"Even Dekker's old sailing master Warrant Officer Crawley stayed with the Petrel since as commodore of a squadron, Dekker would have to leave it to his flag-captain to sail and fight his own flagship while he commanded the squadron as a whole."
"Ah yes, Crawley.the Master of Magnetism," Drew recalled. "as I dubbed him in my book, a neat turn of phrase, if I say so myself."
During the first battle against the trolls, Sailing Master Crawley had invoked his magical gift and ripped the nails out of two of the enemy's longships sending them and their crews to the bottom.
"Commodore, or should I say Admiral Van Zant, was right on with his prediction that, once the Admiralty promoted him, he would never get another chance to lead a landing party the way he did so valiantly at Flensborg. He is pulling duty ashore these days, sailing a desk at the Bureau of Ships."
"Not merely any desk; he is chief of the bureau, which is a plum job in the Navy. The Navy likes to put a fighting admiral in charge of shipbuilding, one backed up by a professional naval architect as his deputy."
"That's right. You have been cultivating the man, haven't you Drew?" Axel asked.
"Of course. Van Zant is quite a character. Thoroughly competent, he is an interesting conversationalist and can draw on a seemingly endless collection of war stories and tall tales. And as a reporter for the Capital Intelligencer it is my job to develop contacts and sources in the Navy as good as those I already have in the Army. There's you, Nathan, Van Zant, Dekker, and some of the officers in the main body of the High Seas Fleet."
"Anyway, you must have noticed that he bears more than a passing physical resemblance to a troll, standing about six feet and weighing two hundred fifty pounds -- all of it bone and muscle. No wonder he swings a mean cutlass, as he likes to say."
"He is a lot nicer looking, though. No muzzle or fangs."
"You mean tusks. Trolls have tusks not fangs. Fangs are front teeth like canines. Tusks are back teeth which protrude from a closed mouth. Now while I wouldn't call the admiral handsome, he has a strong face, one that inspires confidence. His men call him 'The Mean Cutlass' which is meant both ironically and as a compliment to his prowess with the cutlass. As the man showed during the battle of Flensborg, he does swing a mean cutlass."
"It's a naval tradition for the men to bestow a nickname on their commanders, who in turn must pretend they are unaware of the moniker conferred on them. Van Zant told me that back in the day, when he was just starting out, two unpopular senior officers were called Old Fussbudget and Old Pomp and Circumstance."
"Ouch!
"Exactly" Drew affirmed.
"So when are you going to sea again, Liam?" Axel asked anxiously.
"I hope that quaver in your voice is because you will miss me and not from any concern about my closeness with Nathan. It is not true that a sailor has a lover in every port. I am a whole lot more selective than that. I prize quality over quantity. And that is definitely you, Axel Wilde: quality."
The copper-headed lad smiled, clearly relieved by this assurance. Liam went on to say.
"In fact I can count my lovers on the fingers of one hand, unlike some persons I could name who would run out of fingers and toes long before the ticked them all off."
"Hey!" Drew exclaimed. "I may be a social butterfly, but I do know the difference between recreational sex and love. Setting aside my casual romantic conquests, which I admit are many, I can tick off my real lovers on just a few more fingers than you Liam."
He went on to reassure the young wizard's aide.
"Don't worry Axel. You not only saw Liam before Nathan did, you live with him and share his bed and he yours. Don't begrudge Nathan the time he spends with Liam on the Petrel. You would expect them to have bonded from physical attraction, friendship, isolation aboard a ship at sea, and shared dangers. Anyway, as the resident expert in these matters I can tell you that love does not diminish just because it is shared with another."
"Anyway hasn't Liam encouraged you to widen your own circle of acquaintance. After all, the way the two of us are always sticking our necks out, we might someday get them chopped off, leaving you with no one."
"Perish the thought, but I take your point. And possessiveness is just not healthy psychologically. Maybe I will set my cap for another fellow. Thanks Drew for putting things in perspective."
"Anyway as for me going back to sea," Liam continued," the Admiralty is reserving me for special duty rather than sending me on ordinary patrols. Especially since we don't have that many war wizards in the Navy these days, not with three of them on loan to smaller navies."
"Yes, I remember now. As Chief of the Bureau of Ships, Admiral Van Zant bought the trio of nearly finished hulls used at Flensborg to block the river, repaired and fitted them out with ballistas and catapults for flame globes, and donated them to three of the small navies on the the Great Inland Freshwater Sea. With one of our war wizards aboard plus their own naval infantry, they make powerful naval combatants, certainly better than revenue cutters and rescue boats, which was all those navies had before."
"The donated ships have become the nuclei of small squadrons of warships. Van Zant had the longships captured from the trolls at Flensborg rigged with fore and aft sails. The improved rigging make them better sailors on open water, while their shallow draft lets their crews row them up rivers and tributaries in pursuit of troll raiders. Weather wizards and fetchers and firecasters have been recruited to provide magical firepower once our war wizards returned home."
"So why has Sir Willet asked us all to meet with him today and why has he invited the noted industrialist Angus McFarden as well?"
Liam and Drew looked interrogatively at Axel.
"Hey, just because I am Sir Willet's aide doesn't mean he tells me everything."
Which was true as far as it went, but in fact Sir Willet had told his aide what was up but had asked Axel to keep it to himself.
Just then Sir Willet entered his office. With him was the industrialist Angus McFarden, the one-man industrial revolution whom Drew had dubbed King of the Iron Roads.
McFarden had got things rolling, so to speak, in Grayling a city at the head of navigation on the Long River. He had scaled up the trains of barrows running on wooden rails in the iron mines to six-wheeled ore wagons which were the height of a man and twice as long. These wagons ran on iron rails a fathom wide fixed to ties resting on a bed of gravel.
His iron roads moved iron ore and coal the ten or twenty miles from the mines to loading docks on rivers and canals where the cargo was dropped onto barges. The roundabout rights of way followed the contours of the land to ensure gentle slopes and an easy climb of the empty trains of wagons back to the mines.
Pairs of Fetcher propelled the wagons with an assist from gravity going downhill. The Fetchers did not have to lift the heavy loads, merely use their gift to overcome inertia to get the wagons moving and to counter rolling resistance and friction. Going uphill they were working against gravity, but the track bed itself conferred the mechanical advantage of an inclined plane.
The iron roads carried heavier loads faster and cheaper than animals ever could. Two fetchers could move four times as much freight as the twenty mule teams they replaced. And they ate a whole loss less too. A team of twenty mules consumed hundred of pounds of oats and even larger quantities of fodder every month. And you had to pay teamsters and grooms and veterinarians and all the rest. And fetchers didn't leave a smelly mess behind as draft animals did.
McFarden had been knighted for fostering an whole new industry which drastically lowered the cost of moving heavy freight on land. He had recently been named by a major business association as its entrepreneur of the decade.
McFarden's latest project was a streetcar system for the cities of the Commonwealth starting with the capital itself. The flat terrain of the alluvial plain was ideal for the purpose. A single Fetcher propelled a car down tracks laid flush to the paving stones. The street cars traveled at about twice walking speed and stopped at marked locations every three blocks. Riders either chucked two coppers into the fare box or flashed a monthly ticket.
The streetcars were popular: fast, convenient, quiet, inexpensive, and safe. They had an unblemished safety record -- no collisions with pedestrians or vehicles in the first four months. Running into a pedestrian or vehicle was almost impossible with an operator who could simply Lift anyone or anything on the tracks to safety. There had been just a couple accidents when wagons or horses had collided with a halted streetcar.
Chapter 2. The Participants
"Good afternoon." Sir Willet said to Liam, Axel, and Drew. "I know you have all heard or Sir Angus McFarden or read of him in Drew's accounts in his newspaper or his newsletter even if you haven't met him before today.
Now we are expecting several more participants, so let's mark time till... Ah, here they come now."
The four figures striding into the room ranged in height from five to eight feet. Besides the two at the extremes the other two were studly males of just above middle height and clearly a father and son.
"Let's all take a few minutes to get acquainted or to say hello to old friends.
"I think I'll make the introductions in order of size. The alarmingly large fellow with the war hammer hung from his belt is the Frost Giant Finn Ragnarson of New Varangia, reputed to be an avatar of Thor, Thunder God of the Norse. Next are Count Taitos Klarendes, Count of the Eastern March and his son Lord Artor Klarendes, who is one of the Dread Hands of the Commonwealth in his own right. And the impossibly cute twink with them is Count Klarendes' spouse and life partner, Sir Aodh of Llangollen."
"Aodh is another of your lovers, isn't he, Drew?" Axel asked. "Now the only ones missing from your roster are the twins."
"Not any more we aren't! Here we are, in the flesh!" Karel announced. The wizard's aide spun and greeted the final arrivals with a grin
"You always announce yourselves that way, don't you, Karel: 'In the flesh'.
Drew explained why.
"That's because the twins usually run around skin clad, in nothing but their flesh, though I see that today they have dressed for the meeting in color coded sarongs."
"Indeed. And as always, to help others tell us apart, Jemsen wears green and I blue." Karel noted.
At first the twins had worn various colors but found that their fashion statement confused everybody.
"You must be Axel." Aodh said. "Drew has told me so much about you, I feel I already know you," drawing Axel into a hug then added:
"Such a hard body you have Axel, yet you are a city boy and work in an office."
"Well, I am a soldier after all. We aides to war wizards never know when we might have to deploy to the field with our principals, so we have to stay in shape not only for the rigors of the trail but in case of a fight. Though small as I am I don't know how much help I would be armed only with a long knife."
"Now don't sell yourself short, pun fully intended. We smaller fellows are more about quality than quantity anyway, aren't we?"
"Right. As Drew always says: 'We little guys gotta stick together. It's us against the world!"
"Present company excepted, of course." Drew noted nodding toward those clustered around Finn and McFarden.
But Axel's attention was elsewhere, focused on the exotic beauty of the wir, a boy with slanting green eyes and pearl white skin which neither tanned nor burned.
"Like what you see?" Drew asked Axel conspiratorially in a stage whisper. That earned him an elbow to the ribs.
Yet what was there about Aodh not to like? A raven-haired sloe eyed beauty who looked to be no more than sixteen Aodh matched Drew in height though with a slighter build. A melding of the innocent and the wanton, small, skinny, and smooth muscled, comely as an angel, with a skin like porcelain, and looking utterly fragile and vulnerable, the epicene youth was actually twice as strong as he looked well as being a master of the martial arts.
Aodh was the epitome of a boy in the full bloom of his youth and so impossibly pretty he took your breath away. And he would stay that way indefinitely thanks to his dual nature. Aodh was a shapeshifter, a wir, which in his case meant he could morph into a black panther. The magical process of transformation healed all wounds and injuries and kept him perpetually young, looking sweet sixteen indefinitely until someday misadventure or foul play would end his life.
"So Sir Aodh how long have you known Drew?"
"Just call me Aodh. It's been five or six years now. Drew visited Elysion to interview Taitos, that is Count Klarendes, and the two of us, well we hit it off. Taitos and I rarely indulge ourselves with extra curricular love interests, but I made an exception in Drew's case."
"Of course you did. I am irresistible." Drew affirmed airily.
"Also Finn and I once had a tryst, over the few days of his first visit actually," Aodh admitted," but that was out of mutual curiosity. I was his first wir and he my first and only Frost Giant."
"But even then he was so much larger than you."
"Ah, but you must remember that as a shapeshifter I can adjust my body to accommodate the most endowed of lovers even those eight feet tall."
"I'm pretty flexible myself, thanks to my enhanced vitality," Drew said, "but I can no longer take Finn fully up my quim."
"You're an inventive fellow. I am sure you have other ways to pleasure him."
"Indeed I do."
"Aodh shared a secret about wirs, but I don't suppose I can tell Axel, can I Aodh?"
"Oh, go ahead. We are all friends here. Though don't pass this on to any one else."
"Wirs can not only morph into a particular animal, they can mimic another human being, a specific person, not just anyone. It has to be someone with the same mass, and the process of acquiring a template requires a considerable degree of familiarity such as through repeated intimate contact. Aodh can mimic both me and the elf-boy cum druid Dahlderon, as he did a few years ago when Dahl was on a mission to Karelia."
Ad nodded and explained.
"I maintained the masquerade for many months, switching forms back and forth to give the impression that both of us were in residence in Elysion. We wirs use such mimicry when we are trapped and the only way out is to assume an impenetrable disguise and walk right past our enemies. You can understand why we wirs like to keep this aspect of our powers to ourselves."
Meanwhile Finn Ragnarson and Sir Willet were discussing Finn's magical gift which had manifested as a set of unusual powers which mimicked those of the ancient hero Thor, the thunder god of the Norse. Finn drew energy from the sky which doubled the strength conferred by his eight foot frame and six hundred pounds of bone, sinew, and muscle, much as a magical power belt doubled the legendary Thor's already prodigious strength. Like Thor, Finn commanded thunder and lightning. Thanks to his control of the planetary magnetic field, Finn could throw his war hammer and retrieve it, drawing the steel head back toward him and smacking the haft into steel backed gauntlets much like Thor's iron gloves in the old stories.
"And I don't have to worry much about missile weapons, at least not anything metallic. I can use the magnetic field of the planet to make arrowheads and even lead bullets veer away from me, though I cannot return them to sender they way Fetchers and war wizards can."
"So your shield works even against non-magnetic metals. The natural philosophers will wonder why?"
"Magic, what else?" Finn shrugged, ever the pragmatist.
"Ironically my shield offers no protection against the missiles we giants traditionally fling with our slings, which are smooth round stones taken from river beds. Which is why for battle I wear light armor, namely a helm, a breastplate, vambraces, a buckler strapped to my left arm and steel-backed leather gauntlets. None of it needs to be particular strong or heavy for the level of protection I require. Anyway strong as I am, I will hardly know I am bearing its weight."
"Another difference," Sir Willet pointed out, "is that you create a field that actually protects you, whereas the Missile Shield we fetchers create is only a field of mental awareness. We must still invoke the Fetching gift to divert arrows and quarrels and bolts or even the pebbles you Frost Giant sling."
"You two are making me feel nigh onto naked," Artor complained facetiously. "My only protection is an army style kepi."
Recently adopted by the armed forces, the kepi's white round cap, bill, and neck flap protected soldiers from the sun while an inner cap of steel protected the skull from impacts.
"Ah but you Hands are enforcers not soldiers. Anyway as a firecaster you can ignite the wooden shafts of arrow and turn them into so much ash."
"When they make me a Hand," Finn averred, "I'll still wear armor. After all my Frost Giants expect a thunder god to look the part!"
Finn laughed genially at his own fanciful expression.
Just then Angus McFarden raised his voice and asked everyone to take a seat around the conference table.
"Sorry Sir Willet," McFarden told the wizard, "but there will be plenty of time later for you and the giant to talk shop."
"Your point is well taken." Sir Willet conceded.
"As for you smaller fellows, can you table the discussion of your love lives for a more appropriate occasion. I must say today is the first time I ever heard young males brag about who was bigger down there and not be referring to what they had up front!"
"That's hardly surprising, Sir Angus. As a man of conventional tastes your circle of acquaintance is comprised of those like yourself who consort exclusively with the female half of the species."
"Which includes me," Artor Klarendes pointed out.
Chapter 3. The Conference
"The Institute of Wizardry will soon reorganize into two equal branches: a College of Wizardry and a College of Magic." Sir Willet announced. "under two chancellors, myself for the wizards and Sir Angus for the College of Magic. Sir Dieter will remain in overall charge as Chairman."
Sir Willet went on to explain that the new College of Magic would become the organizational hub for the Confraternities of the Gifted. Since Sir Angus was taking the new post as Chancellor of the College, Drew Altair would step up to become the head of the Confraternity of Fetchers.
The Institute also wanted to fold Drew's newsletter into its publications program. For several years Drew had published a newsletter that covered the world of magical gifts. Just recently he had changed its title from 'Transactions of the Confraternities of the Gifted' to something much simpler: 'Magic'. The Institute's long running companion publication would be renamed from 'Quarterly of the Institute of Wizardry' to simply 'Wizardry'. Both would be published bi-monthly and printed with moveable type.
The publicity program was an outgrowth of developments in recent years where the Commonwealth government had taken a more active role in mobilizing the magical talents of the population for both defense and civilian affairs. The Institute's new role was to be the incubator and disseminator of new ideas, especially those applicable to civilian life. The Commonwealth itself would continue to promote the application of magic to defense.
Drew's family news-paper, the Capital Intelligencer, had been the test platform for the new technology of printing with moveable type which was small bits of metal with the letters and punctuation marks cast in reverse in high relief. The type for each mark would be selected from bins by a typesetter, slipped into a slot, and locked in place in a metal frame then inked, pressed, and printed. It was much faster than the old style of wood-block printing and the type could be disassembled afterwards and reused.
The inventors were brothers, provincial printers who needed backing from the Altair family to commercialize their invention. The Altairs, that is Drew's father and uncle, put up serious money to get the ball rolling. Once moveable type proved a success, the Altairs got the government to buy all rights from them and the brothers and to put the invention in the public domain.
The Altairs stood to make another fortune from their foresight in sponsoring the new technology. In anticipation of a vast increase in printing and publishing in the coming years and decades they had established technical standards, built type foundries, and bought land for plantations to supply paper made from wood pulp instead of rags.
Sir Angus's iron rails were not only successful with heavy freight like iron ore and coal but now with passengers. Count Klarendes had been an early investor in the heavy freight line and likewise with the street cars. So too was Aodh who had a considerable fortune of his own as one of the heirs of the late Sir Balandur. The twins too had invested in the street cars. The twins were on their way to being fabulously wealthy and not only as heirs of Balandur but also from shrewd investments in emerging industries. The twins were also the owners of two successful businesses, one producing Genuine Gemini Zingers, which they had invented, and the other producing maps and gazetteers for commercial travelers.
The latest commercial exploitation of magical gifts was street lighting, a venture in which the Institute itself had invested. Sir Willet's aide Axel Wilde had inspired a whole new industry and provided an important public amenity.
It had all started one gloomy evening over in Twinkle Town. Named for the cute twinks who were its chief denizens, Twinkle Town was a district or rather a cluster of drinking and dancing establishments favored by those who fancied pretty boys and by pretty boys who favored being fancied. With overcast skies and both moons down, the oil lamps on the streets could do little to dispel the gloom. That gave Axel an idea.
Now Axel was unusual in manifesting several magical gifts, though all of modest proportions. Like many persons Axel could Call Light, but his balls of illumination persisted for hours without his attention and would hover where he set them even after he moved away.
So Axel talked to the proprietor of one the largest and most popular clubs in Twinkle Town and made him an offer. In exchange for a modest fee, Axel would light up the street in front of his place every evening. The proprietor just needed to set up a few nets on poles which would contain the balls of light so they would not drift away with the wind.
The proprietor did Axel one better, suggesting that Axel sign a contract with their business improvement district to light up the entire area. Now Axel liked the idea but ran it by the twins first. They put him in touch with their business manager, a wily dwarf named Lennart. He thrashed out a much better deal than Axel would have made on his own.
In exchange for a percentage of the profits, Lennart handled everything: contracting, setting up light posts, and the hiring of a corps of lamplighters, mostly his fellow dwarves, to light first Twinkle Town, then other entertainment districts, and in time the high streets of the entire city pursuant to a contract with the city government.
More than any of the other sentient races on Haven, dwarves had the gift for Calling Light. Dwarves lived in natural caverns underground so that particular gift was of great value to them. Those with the gift of persistent light lit up their caverns to help those among them who could not call light for themselves.
Most dwarves with the gift were happy to work for wages rather than try to set up a competing business on their own, which would involve drumming up clients, getting standard lighting fixtures built and emplaced, contracting, etc. No much easier for dwarves to take a part-time job whereby they did their rounds each evening perhaps on their way home from work, lighting up the streets they had been assigned. Lennart persuaded the Institute and Drew's family to advance funds to cover start up costs in exchange for a modest interest in the firm.
And it had worked out splendidly. Axel no longer made the rounds himself and as majority owner of Capital Lamplighters was well on his way to accumulating a moderate fortune of his own. As a bonus, Axel never had to pay a cover charge in Twinkle Town. Things had worked out so well, Finn's brother Hrolgar had started a street lighting operation on a much smaller scale in Flensborg.
Liam had even suggested how Axel could use his gift to protect himself were he ever to find himself on a battlefield at Sir Willet's side. Calling a ball of light to englobe the head of a man or a troll would scramble his brains and might even kill him. Or to simply incapacitate him, pop a ball right in front of his face, temporarily blinding him.
"I will now call on Count Taitos Klarendes to explain his idea for a whole new industry, something he calls refrigeration."
"Thank you, Sir Willet. Lately Aodh and I have been spending about a third of our time in the capital, staying at a house Artor has leased in one of the leafy upscale residential neighborhoods. Finn is a frequent visitor. He himself has been living in the capital while he trained for an appointment as a Hand of the Commonwealth."
One day my son Artor and I got the idea for a new industry which we call refrigeration. Finn was telling us about how the Frost Giants harvested ice from frozen ponds every winter, cutting the ice into blocks and storing them in ice-houses dug halfway into the ground. The roof and walls are insulated with sawdust and sod."
"Now some ice-houses are used for food storage. Others supply blocks of ice every week or so to households in the neighborhood, where the individual blocks are placed in boxes large enough to hold the ice and perishables like meat, fish, and milk and butter. That slows spoilage even in the warm summers. Households don't have to go to the butcher or fishmonger every day to ensure fresh and healthful meats and fish. Milk does not turn sour. Even things which don't need what we call refrigeration taste better cold."
"Beer for instance!" Finn volunteered.
"Really?" Angus McFarden asked. "Cold beer? Leave it to Frost Giants to think that one up."
Artor shook his head.
"It's not just Frost Giants. Judge for yourself this evening at our place. We are putting on a big feed, a cookout in the garden. The staff is working to prepare a stick-to-the-ribs meal of grilled and roasted meats, roast tubers, biscuits, steamed vegetables, and other foods you can bite into. And nothing goes better with food than cold beer."
"Amen to that!" Finn affirmed. "We Frost Giants have a saying: 'Cold beer is surely proof that the gods love us and want us to be happy!'"
That drew an amused snort from his interlocutors.
"Thank you for sharing that with us, Finn. Anyway, getting back to our project, it all started when Artor realized that we firecasters could bring the benefits of ice-houses and ice-boxes to the Commonwealth. Creating the ice itself is not a problem, not for powerful firecasters like ourselves. We just draw the heat out of a shallow basin filled with water and disperse it into the air. Why don't you tell the rest Artor?"
"Thank you, Father."
"Now any strong firecaster can create a big block of ice, but then what does he do with it? No, what you need is a business that stores ice in quantity in ice-houses and distributes blocks of ice to households either on demand or even better by subscription, which produces a reliable revenue stream. As for the ice-boxes, we will sell them cheap, recouping just our costs and even give them away at first as a promotion. Let me show you want we have in mind."
Artor left the room briefly and returned rolling a cart with a large wooden box on top. Below were what looked like a set of thick boards.
"This is an ice-box, as designed by Justin our master joiner back in Elysion based on specifications from Finn who is our technical adviser and part owner of the company. It is nearly a cube just over a yard in all dimensions. It is double walled and insulated with sawdust, though cork would do as well, and has three shelves and a door in front for ready access. The really clever feature is the lockable door in the rear so we can install them in a cut through the kitchen wall. That way the ice-man can make his deliveries without ever coming inside and the meltwater drains outside. Two locks inside and out will discourage entry by burglars or just food thieves."
"Another feature is that we ship them unassembled. The components can be massed produced at any suitably equipped manufactory. If I may demonstrate."
Setting aside the first ice-box Artor demonstrated how quickly and easily the six main pieces of an ice-box snapped together. The only tool needed was a mallet to knock in the pegs that held it together. Then you slid in two metal grates for shelves.
Chapter 4. The Cookout
"All right, Finn," McFarden conceded. "I'll admit that you Frost Giants were right and I was wrong to be skeptical. Cold beer is not a foolish notion after all. It does go very well with food. Even by itself it really hits the spot on a hot day, which is every day in these parts."
"And this is how we like to drink our beer in good weather," Finn replied, gesturing at their surroundings, "in beer gardens attached to taverns. You can take food and drink at a table or just quaff your favorite brew in comfortable wooden chairs. Proprietors supply free nibbles like small pretzels and shelled salted nuts. The salt makes you thirsty so you will order refills."
"How do you chill the beer? Do you set a keg in a barrel and pack ice around it?"
"Not at all. We chill the beer as it flows toward the tap. Let me show you."
Finn took the industrialist behind the bar and pointed to a keg of beer hooked up to a hose which disappeared into a large wooden box. Flipping the box open, McFarden saw that the hose connected to metal piping that ran all the way around the box in a sort of square spiral connecting to another hose at the top which in turn connected with the tap lever. The box was filled with a mixture of ice and freezing water.
"The beer takes the chill as it flows through the pipe. You want some ice water in the box so the coldness reaches every part of the piping, though you have to drain some meltwater off from time to time to put in more ice."
"You don't just let the meltwater drain away do you?" Aodh asked.
"Of course. What else would we do with it?"
Aodh shook his head.
"I used to make my living as a minstrel so I have seen the inside of more taverns than you would believe. Ask yourself. What are all the patrons doing besides drinking?"
His interlocutors shook their heads, a baffled look on their faces, unable to fathom what the cute wir boy was getting at.
"Give up? They are sweating. That is what they are all doing."
"So don't throw out the ice-water. Use it for cold wipes and compresses. Believe me that is an amenity the patrons of any tavern or beer garden will appreciate."
"Oh, and be sure to supply a clean fresh cloths for every customer. Keep them handy and pile them next to a basin or small tub of ice water and send the used ones to the laundry."
"Hmm, I like the way you think, Aodh. Like a businessman." McFarden said.
"But I am also interested in your shapeshifting powers. I know Aodh that your other form is a black panther but I have never seen either you or any other wir transform into one. Would you care to demonstrate?"
"That is something I too would like to see." Liam added.
Aodh shrugged. Why not.
It was not like in the old days back in his homeland where the wirs kept their power to shift shapes a secret, telling the rare travelers who ventured into their secluded land that their country was protected by animal guardians they could call upon with magic. Everyone in the country of the wirs practiced martial arts, the better to defend themselves without giving away the ace up their sleeves.
But in the capital of the Commonwealth Aodh was among friends. There was no need for the traditional secrecy of his folk. Aodh whipped off his sarong and strode onto the grass.
Aodh's form blurred, his innate magic taking only seconds to transform the pretty boy-toy into a sleek black panther. Aodh ran around for a bit then reared up on his hind legs and slashed the air with his claws, snarling to look fierce. Then he morphed back into the Aodh they all knew. He didn't bother getting dressed again, preferring to remain nude and let the sweat dry on him.
"Wow! I had no idea you could change so fast, or that the change was like you were melting from human to cat and back again. And that was quite a horizontal leap you made a moment ago."
"Indeed, Liam. The legs of a panther are proportionally the longest of the big cats. Even your normal tawny panther can jump say forty feet (12 m) horizontally and nearly half that vertically. With my magically enhanced strength I can do much better than that."
"In fact, that was how I took out a Frost Giant during a raid on Elysion years ago. A pair of them snuck up on Taitos while he was busy killing centaurs. I don't know if they even saw me in panther form crouched at his feet atop the watch tower. From the way the one in front looked over at his companion with a predatory grin, the giants must have thought they could take Taitos unawares."
"I took advantage of that moment of inattention to launch myself across the gap and attacked. I ripped his face off and slashed his throat open before he threw me against a wall breaking some of my ribs, which I fixed easily enough by transforming to human form. He would have bled out if Taitos had not cut him in half with white fire."
"Now you know why I don't carry a weapon." Aodh told Axel and Liam, smiling slyly as he held up his left hand, and let it morph into the paw of a cat, claws fully extended.
"My weapons are always to hand. I am expert in two styles of martial arts, so I can fight effectively unarmed in human form without having to change to a panther. Also, as a lefty, I baffle most opponents with my stance and defensive moves. Either way I can hold my own in a scrape. It helps that I am twice as strong as I should be for my size. Even so, I still fall short of many foes in brute strength, but my extra power makes me uncannily quick and let's me surprise them.
"As you would expect, in my panther form I am a master of stealth. I can track by sight and scent or take to the trees and travel considerable distances leaving no trail of the ground for anyone to follow. And if anyone does try to track or chase me, I can lie in wait up a tree and pounce on him as he passes by all unknowing below me, using my weight and momentum to knock him down. One slash of my claws to the neck, and I bound out of reach of his weapons, for even a dying man can be dangerous. Then it is just a matter of waiting for him to bleed to death."
"And yes, I will admit that I have sometimes changed back to my human form so I could taunt my foe. I make no excuse for that other than to say it stems from the feline side of my nature."
"Gods!" Axel breathed. "Is everyone around here a killer?"
"Don't worry, Axel," Karel assured him. "We're the good guys."
Afterwards the twins, Drew, and the Klarendes, father and son, talked about developments in the Far West. Neither the count nor the Hand knew anything about what the Young Peacemakers Four had really accomplished during their mission to those regions.
"So the trolls have struck there too. I cannot really say I am surprised," the elder Klarendes said then continued with:
"They nearly succeeded in seizing Jenova, the more northerly of the maritime republics for its port and access upriver, but the trolls were thwarted at sea by the republic's new flotilla of warships which included the ship donated by the Commonwealth with a war wizard aboard plus three longships with fetchers and firecasters. Their landing force was left stranded and ultimately fell to Alliance military forces sent by Marshall Urqaart. The outcome validated Admiral Van Zant's strategy of equipping the smaller navies with the means to defend themselves."
"Even so their attempted invasion had a tremendous political impact. There is nothing like an external threat to concentrate minds."
"The elites in the old regimes know that they now have three enemies: the revolutionaries in the Despotate of Dzungaria, their own oppressed populations, and the trolls. They are moving to confederate their states and delegate military and foreign affairs to a central authority. For its part, the Commonwealth has made it known that it would like to replace its alliance with the individual states with an alliance with this emerging confederation."
"Lord Zaldor and Marshall Urqaart were clever to wait for them to broach the idea of a confederation. The best way to make people do what you want them to do is to make them think it was their idea in the first place." Drew said approvingly.
"Tsk, tsk. A cynic already and only twenty-three years old." Karel said sardonically.
"I prefer to think of myself as a realist," Drew gave back.
"And what is this I have heard about shipping minerals along an iron road to fertilize the sour soils of the Far West?" the elder Klarendes asked.
"My firm is just doing a preliminary study." McFarden said. "No one is going to invest so much capital without a guarantee of peace and access to markets."
"And the notion of tripling yields has also concentrated minds on the political, social, and economic reforms that would resolve the structural problems of the Far West that made endless class warfare inevitable." Drew noted.
That was as far as he would go. He wasn't about to reveal that the Commonwealth and the Despotate had actually formed a secret alliance against the corrupt elites of the states seeking to confederate. It was ultimately for their own good for the changes both sides wanted would bring peace and prosperity to everyone. The elites would have to give up their political power as a class, but they would retain their wealth and social position.
"Can I ask you something Artor?" Axel asked privately. "I don't want to give the impression that guys like me who like other guys are always on the prowl for new partners, but sometimes you just run into someone you find irresistible. Now Liam said that was OK with him; he is glad I am taking him up on his advice that I widen my circle of acquaintance. So here goes:"
"Do you think I have a chance with Aodh? I mean I don't want to come across as a home wrecker, but Aodh is so hot. Just look at how cute and sexy he is standing there in the nude, his body gleaming in the sun from the sweat he worked up just now."
"Actually from the way he has been looking over at you, Axel, I think he would welcome an advance. And don't worry about his spouse. My father knows that he is secure in Aodh's affections."
"Er, just one thing, Artor. Does Aodh ever lose control of his form while, er, in the throes of passion? I mean with those sharp claws and all..."
Artor grinned as he visualized the scene of the young wizard's aide trying to make love to an Aodh whose paws were busy kneading away at his belly. Shaking his head he said: "No, Aodh never loses control of his form. No claws."
Smiling wickedly at the thought of a panther giving oral serviced, Artor pointedly glanced down at Axel's groin and assured him: "No fangs either!"
Artor added that this was not the first time he had been asked that very question. Finn had done so on his very first visit to Elysion. Artor and Axel shared a chuckle at the coincidence.
Axel did ask Aodh for a tryst, and the young wir jumped at the chance to bed the boyishly cute wizard's aide. That night, with the count's blessing, Aodh went back with Axel to his hotel and spent the night in his room.
They made a lovely and lively couple. Still only eighteen Axel was short, fair, with hair the color of copper, and extremely boyish looking, his pretty face dominated by large green eyes over heart-melting dimples.
The wir youth was just the right size for Axel. Much like Axel Aodh short and slight of stature -- even petite, a physique some might call skinny but which Axel preferred to call fine-boned, svelte and sleek. With his delicate features Aodh was cute as a button, soft and cuddly but wild and wanton and loud when aroused. Like any young feline, the wir-boy was frisky, playful, and delightfully naughty, challenging Axel's more conventional notions of lovemaking.
As Artor had told Axel, his father once said of his shapeshifter lover that Aodh was like a kitten: so much friskiness in one tiny body.
What Artor had told Axel was true enough. Aodh never lost control. While in the throes of passion he never unintentionally shifted his shape, but that didn't mean he couldn't change intentionally.
Only a little change of course. No point trying to prong a boy while in his full panther form. Of course Aodh would not claw or bite Axel, but no human would willingly endure penetration or rather withdrawal by a cat's member which had a band of over a hundred tiny backwards-pointing penile spines which were supposed to rake the walls of his mate's vagina, to trigger ovulation.
No, Aodh had something else in mind. something he knew from experience that boys really craved without even knowing about it. Eating out a boy's ass was always such a surprise to a virgin in that department. So it proved to be with Axel, doubly so because Aodh allowed his form to morph just enough to equip himself with the long pink raspy tongue of a feline.
He used his tongue to tease Axel's anal pucker, sending shivers up and down Axel's spine. His body reacted something like it did listening to the scrape of fingernails on a slate, though not unpleasantly. Far from it. It was then that Axel learned that his lover Liam was not the only one who could be inventive about his lovemaking.
Aodh had a quiet side too. He loved it when this new boy stroked and petted him, running his strong hands along the chevron of his ribs, fingering the sharp hip bones, sliding down the smooth skin of his thighs then back up to fondle his buttocks. The cat in Aodh loved the attention and the petting. His supple body was meant to be touched and stroked. Even in human form, Aodh could purr softly when contented, as after sex or a good meal. It was one of his most endearing characteristics.
Author's Note
This story is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any person living or dead.
If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards. Point your browser to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html
This story is one of an occasional series about the further adventures of the characters introduced in the fantasy novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends' and published by Nifty Archive. The chief protagonist of the novel, Dahlderon, elf-boy and druid, will appear in these stories in a supporting rather than starring role. Each story in the sequence stands on its own, with the focus on one or just a few of the original characters.
Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy' and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. My 'Jungle Boy' series of Hollywood tales is posted in the Gay/Authoritarian section. The recent series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and tribulations of five of its gay students. For links to these and other stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.
Comments and feedback welcome.