Authors: Kirby Crow
Tags: #Fantasy - Epic, #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Epic, #General, #Fantasy - General, #Fiction - General, #Romance, #Erotica, #Gay, #Fiction : Romance - Fantasy, #Romance - Fantasy, #Erotica - Gay, #Fiction : Gay
This sleigh was smaller than the one that had brought Scarlet and Liall from the port, but had larger windows. “Yesuk!” Cestimir called. The prince rapped out an order in Sinha, and the driver bowed and climbed up into the seat behind the pair of horses.
"Yesuk is my driver,” Cestimir explained, “and has also gotten me both into and out of a great deal of trouble. They keep trying to send him away to some other post, but I shan't let them."
Cestimir tapped on the window, and through it Scarlet could see Yesuk lift his heavy arms to snap the reins. They were off.
"Where are we going?” Scarlet asked. Yesuk clucked his tongue at the horses and the sleigh began to pick up speed. Its runners on the snow sounded like the hiss of a snake inside the carriage, and the air was very cold.
"Anywhere, so long as it's away from here for a few hours.” Cestimir chuckled. “Stop fretting! Liall has gotten you as scared as he is, imagining assassins behind every door. Relax, Yesuk will protect us, and no one else knows we have left."
Neither of the two young men saw the lone figure by the roadside that the sleigh passed swiftly. Or, if they did, they believed him to be a wind-blasted stump of a tree or a rock, so still was the Ancient and so heavy was the fall of snow piled on his shoulders and head as he stood there with his bare feet rooted in the earth, colored like the landscape, patient as the mountain.
Melev turned his head to watch as the sleigh passed, and his moonstone eyes shone with an inner light that had not been kindled in centuries.
It was a measure as to how frightened Liall was that he had sent for Melev to heal Scarlet. A Rshani healer is bred, not taught, and many considered them not quite mortal. Some, like Melev, were Ancients able to heal wounds that would otherwise be impossible for a man to recover from.
Liall sat vigil outside his apartments until Nenos assured him that Scarlet would be perfectly well by morning. He left then, wandering deep in thought through long, chilly halls and glittering atriums, finally finding his way down to the barracks, which were bleakly empty. Jarek's troops were engaged on a battlefield to the north and were not expected to return for several days. She was routing Vladei's rebel supporters, which by now was no secret. That accounted for Vladei's act of desperation on the Hunt and his attempt to publicly discredit Liall in the great hall. Time was growing short and Vladei was losing ground with the Barons. If Vladei did not strike decisively and soon, Cestimir would be king. That knowledge was bound to make Vladei desperate and Liall sleepless.
Every hour that Liall spent in the barracks was an hour that he longed to be with Scarlet, but stubborn pride held him back. Scarlet had patently dismissed Liall—a prince!—from his presence, and it galled Liall to realize that he was not quite the master here. Not that he ever really fancied he was, or that Scarlet had no influence upon him, but to have it done so publicly...
Did he mean what he said, Liall wondered. Does he wish to leave me? And—gods help me—would I allow it? What kind of man am I if I do not? Then there was the matter of his magic.
Buggering gods, Liall thought. Scarlet can do magic. He had to say it aloud several times to the empty barracks, certain that it must be some trick or sleight of hand that the wily pedlar had mastered. He even had Scarlet's clothing and packs searched and examined, but beyond a piece of black flint from the Byzan hills and a battered strip of iron, there was nothing Scarlet could have made a fire with in plain sight of three hundred people. The tales were true. Hilurin magic existed, and Scarlet had never trusted him enough to tell him of it.
Neither of us truly trusts the other, Liall realized. Not in the ways that matter, the way of mates who are destined to be together. I called him my t'aishka, and he does not even know what I mean by it, for I am too afraid to say it aloud. Twice-beloved. Twice-chosen. A lover I have known beyond life. It was his face in my dreams all those years, and yet ... it was not. We have known each other before.
I must amend this, Liall thought, pacing the barracks and slapping his fist into his palm in frustration. I must convince him to stay with me, and the only way to do that is to be honest with him. Tell him everything. But how? Where are the magic words to explain the killing of my own brother? Yet I must, or we will never heal the lies between us.
Near the dawn hour, he climbed the stairs to his apartments. Nenos reported that Scarlet was well, but still asleep. The old servant's manner was so carefully blank that Liall nearly stormed in to drag Scarlet out of bed and demand that they settle things between them. Or else he would strip and join Scarlet in bed, and let their bodies speak what they could not. Sanity prevailed though, and Liall settled for growling and stamping down to the scriptorium, where he buried his head in paperwork for hours.
The first inkling Liall had that something had gone wrong was Jochi's sudden appearance. The hour was around noon or thereabouts. He still had not returned to being an accurate judge of time in the twilit Rshan winter. I have, Liall thought wryly, become a Byzan: too reliant on the sun.
Jochi appeared at the doorway to the queen's scriptorium and peered in nervously, then vanished. Several minutes later, Liall looked up from the trade treaty he was scanning and Jochi was there again, his eyes darting to the corners of the room. By that time, Liall had become suspicious and he begged leave of Glin, a nervous scribe with thin, shaking hands, and followed Jochi.
Liall found him only a few steps down the hallway.
"Ap kyning,” Jochi said respectfully, but would not meet his eyes. That was unlike the teacher. Jochi fidgeted and seemed alarmed. That, in turn, alarmed Liall: to see calm, level-headed Jochi, wringing his hands like a new mother over a sick babe.
"It is ser Keriss,” Jochi said at last.
Liall's heart nearly stopped. “Is he worse?” Gods, what if Melev had been wrong?
"He is not here, my prince."
Poor Jochi, set to guard a youth more willful than a king. Liall felt relieved and irritated at once. “What do you mean, not here?"
"I cannot find him."
"Have you looked everywhere?"
Jochi nodded, his features tight with shame.
Liall ran a hand over his hair, his thoughts scattering in sudden fear. It was very cold outside, and Scarlet knew nothing of the countryside. Liall was stunned that Scarlet would even consider it. The boy must have been angrier than he had realized. “He cannot have gone far, it is the middle of winter, after all. Tell Nenos to—"
"Nenos has been waiting to speak with you as well, my prince. There has been trouble."
"Trouble,” Liall stated flatly, waiting for the explanation.
Jochi's face was lined and drawn, and that told Liall much. “We should go and speak to Nenos at once.
At once, ser,"
he added with a look to the walls. Such a look said: other ears could be listening.
Liall followed him without another word.
Nenos was standing at attention just inside the main door to Liall's apartments, obviously waiting for them. He held a small, red velvet box in his hands.
"What is it?” Liall said harshly, his heart thudding loudly in his ears. “What's amiss?"
Wordlessly, Nenos held the box out to Liall. The prince took it and jerked the cover off. Inside, nestled on a bed of folded red silk, was a white essima, the tiny, fanged, ruby-eyed viper of the north that ever seeks warmth, hiding under pillows and cushions and near warm chairs. So silent it was, and so swiftly did it kill, that the name for this snow-pale serpent and the name for assassin are the same in Sinha.
The essima was dead, its spine crushed into a bloody mess, red blood on its pure white scales. Liall gave Nenos a look that made the servant take a step back. “Where did this come from?"
"It was left here, my prince,” Nenos turned and touched the small table by the door, the table Liall had taken to leaving small gifts for Scarlet on, such as the wolf pin. “I do not know who put it here, but certainly I have admitted no one but Jochi and, once, Prince Eleferi. Beyond that there are only the other servants, Dvi the cook, and myself."
"Who killed it?"
"I did,” Nenos answered calmly. “I noticed it when I returned from fetching herbs from the apothecary on the ground floor. Cestimir sent me on an errand, saying the queen herself had insisted on this herbal tincture being mixed for ser Keriss's health. When I came back, both Prince Cestimir and ser Keriss were gone."
Gone? One thing at a time, Liall thought, forcing himself to remain calm. “And you opened it?"
"Of course, my prince."
"For all you knew, I could have left this gift for Scarlet,” Liall pressed him, merciless in his fear. “Why did you open it, servant?"
Now Nenos squared his shoulders in grave offense. “That box was not here when I left, and I am charged with all that occurs inside these apartments. I open every package, listen to every conversation, no matter how intimate. I am not charged with merely serving your che, my prince, I am your
servant
, and you asked me to guard the lad."
In the face of Nenos's righteous anger, Liall wilted. The man was right. Liall placed the lid carefully back on the box and returned it to Nenos, bowing. “I have rewarded loyalty with suspicion. Forgive me. You could have been killed yourself, opening that."
Nenos was mollified, but not much. The box was handed to Jochi, who made a sound of disgust at its contents, perhaps commenting on the situation in general.
"I was not killed,” Nenos said. “But I am willing to die to protect those I serve. I would be proud to do so."
"The House of Camira-Druz values your loyalty,” Liall answered formally, his heart an aching lump of fear in the cage of his chest. Someone had tried to murder Scarlet, and now he was missing, probably gone off on one of his wandering adventures, not knowing that a killer stalked him.
"This was not an attack on you, Nazheradei,” Jochi said. “It is reasonable to believe that whoever left the box knew that you did not sleep here last night."
"It was not an attempt to kill me,” Liall agreed grimly, “only to cripple me. We must discover who did this before they try again. And Scarlet must be found and moved into more secure lodgings at once. I will put him in with the queen and her soldiers if I have to.” And sleep standing up with a sword in my hand, he vowed. They would not take Scarlet from him. “I should have done this last night, but I was angry with him and stupid. Now look what has happened."
"My prince,” Jochi said reluctantly. “There is more."
Gods, what more? “Speak,” he commanded.
"Prince Cestimir's new sleigh is gone, and his driver, Yesuk, cannot be found."
Now that he had an idea where the boys had gone—apparently under their own will—Liall was relieved, but somehow angrier. He poked a finger in the middle of Jochi's chest. “Come with me to the guard house. We will assemble a search party. Nenos!"
"My prince?"
"If Scarlet comes back before we do, tie him up and sit on him! Do not let him leave these apartments again."
"Yes, ser."
Liall and Jochi each took ten men and horses from the guard house and searched the sleigh paths and the farthest reaches of the grounds, both in opposite directions. Liall returned before Jochi did, having found not even a trail.
The wind is up, Liall thought. It may have eroded their path, or else they may have left through another route. There are many, many...
Two dozen or more exits surrounded the palace, each with trails leading off into the countryside and back to the port city in a spider-work of paths and roads, some well-traveled, some not. Looking for a single set of sleigh tracks among them was impossible.
Liall was realizing this and pacing the little guard room near the wide, stone steps of the palace entrance—the same ones Scarlet had found so huge and imposing when he first stepped out of that carriage—when Jochi's men rode up in a jangle of bells and harness.
When Liall saw the searcher's hangdog faces, his anger curdled up into a sinking ball of fear in his stomach.
"It is time to tell the queen,” Liall said. He waved his hand at the search party. “Double their numbers and send them back out. The hour is late and the snow bears will emerge soon to search for food.” As he said it, the coldness in his gut began to spread throughout his body. Something was very wrong. He felt it. Perhaps the man or woman who had aimed their venomous arrow at Scarlet had now found a perfect opportunity to remove two troublesome youths with one blow.
"Find me a good horse,” he told Jochi. “I will be going again, too."
Jochi shook his head. “You cannot."
Liall rounded on him, his fists clenched. “Do not order me, Setna!"
"I am not,” Jochi answered, calm and rational despite his worry. “I'm only stating a fact. After Cestimir, you are the last true prince of Druz. If Cestimir is indeed taken—and that is what you're thinking, ser—then the only hope he has is if you are alive and well in the Nauhinir, where you can strike back at Vladei."
He was right. Damn him. Oh Deva, Liall prayed soundlessly, looking out into the blue twilight and the hills of snow creeping up into the mountains, if you truly do exist, guard my Scarlet, for he believes in you and he is a good man who does not deserve to come to harm. And if you will hear prayers for the life of a Rshani prince, guard Cestimir as well.
It brought him no comfort, and he turned away heavily to speak to his mother.
9.
A Small Piece of Earth
"We're going so fast, Cestimir!” The sleigh raced over the shadowy road, making Scarlet feel as if he were flying. Through the window, the white trees seemed to flash by like the wings of birds. There were hollows and glades nestled in the rolling hills above the Nauhinir, and jagged tors that looked like black spikes wreathed in snow.
"Good! After that horrible hunt and the nasty scene Vladei made afterwards, we both need fresh air and time to ourselves,” Cestimir said merrily. “You're growing too pale, Scarlet. And will you please for the sake of the Shining Ones call me Cesta and not that lavish title?"