Stone Rose 7 & 8

[maderr]

Part Two

It is not the end that should be feared. Be more concerned with the journey.

~The Basilisk

Chapter Seven


Cortez sat up with a yawn and winced as she threw back her cloak. Cold. Scales and teeth, she hated working jobs like this in the winter. Why couldn’t anyone ever pay her to do something that involved lots of sitting by a warm fire with a good bowl of stew and a hot ale?

Snorting softly, she bundled her cloak tight and went to stoke the fire, resisting the urge to kick Fidel awake as she passed him. Let him sleep a bit longer.

Yawning again, Cortez got the fire going and then started some coffee. A luxury, and they should probably be moving faster, but she didn’t think there was any cause for concern. They had a day’s head start and she knew the lay of the land as well as the animals.

Speaking of animals, she’d have to try to catch a rabbit or three before they all went to ground for the winter. Most of them would already have their white winter coats, making them easy to find in the brush.

The smell of the coffee shook off the last of the sleep clinging to her, and Cortez took a closer look at their surroundings. Another day and a half and they’d hit the mountains, and with the moon full, there would be plenty of light by which to travel at night. Another week and they could deliver his Highness. Two weeks after that, they’d have enough money to hop a ship and go spend winter in Kundou.

She loved Piedre, she really did – had every intention of dying here, letting her body join the land in which she’d been raised. There was a lot to be said, however, for a country that only knew of snow from stories of foreign nations. When Pozhar and Piedre were buried in white, most of Kundou strolled along the beach in nothing more than heavy robes and boots instead of sandals.

Pouring coffee into her tin cup, Cortez stared thoughtfully across the fire at the man who lay so still when he slept it was borderline creepy.

That he was presently covered by at least a dozen snakes did not lesson the creepy factor in any way. Snakes didn’t bother her, but in all her travels she had never encountered anyone who slept with the things.

It was rather funny, though, how jumpy they made Fidel.

Cortez shifted her gaze to stare fondly at her partner of going on seven years now. Always with a pang of guilt, a dash of longing, but always the deep fondness. No one had ever gotten her quite like Fidel.

She couldn’t really blame anyone – it only took a mirror to see why she probably wouldn’t get her either. Oddly enough, though, it wasn’t the scars that most bothered people.

Oh, they got plenty of attention of their own. There was one that cut along her right eye that had very nearly taken the eye itself. A nice long set of claw marks on her left from a fight with a stupid tiger in Verde – merciful gods, she hated those stupid Highlanders – a deep knife wound across her right cheek. The two across her forehead had required stitching. That had been fun. As in not. Even more covered her body; just about every manner of wound that could be thought up, she’d acquired at some point. The burn marks were particularly nasty – especially the last one that had ruined her throat.

However, it wasn’t the scars that really seemed to get to people. It was her hair – cut so short that just about everyone thought she was a man until she removed her bulky jacket and they realized they’d made a slight error.

What was she supposed to do, though? Keep it long so someone could grab it in a fight? That had been scar number one. Didn’t feel like repeating that. Off the hair went.

Finishing her coffee, Cortez refilled her cup and then stood up to wake Fidel. “Up, up,” she said firmly, gently kicking the bundle under which her partner lurked. “Lazy, lazy.” She looked away before she accidentally started staring – Fidel was never better looking than when he first woke up, tousled and scruffy. After this many days of hard travel, neither of them smelled great, but he still looked good. He had dark, curly hair, the sort she’d wanted badly as a young girl. Her own, if she let it grow, was lighter and board-straight.

If his parents had not been killed practically before his eyes, Fidel would have become a clerk or something similar, working quite cheerfully with numbers and letters, ink and paper – he was far too smart to waste his life as a merc…but anguish and revenge demanded everything from the people that chose to follow them. His scholar’s body was now toned, the gentleness carved down to hard, chiseled lines. He had few scars, only one across his left shoulder and another across his abdomen, but in some ways those two were worse than her many. She’d chosen the life. For Fidel, it had seemed the only choice.

His eyes were dark brown, the near-black of a true Piedren. Her own, if looked at closely, were actually a very deep blue-green…the only real trace of her mother’s Kundouin blood.

“I know very well you stayed in bed a bit too long yourself, so there,” Fidel said, throwing back his cloak and shuddering as the cold air washed over him. “Scales and teeth, is winter over yet?”

Cortez laughed. “Winter has not yet begun, my friend. Here, coffee.”

“Wonderful,” Fidel said by way of thanks, accepting the steaming cup she held out and gulping down the hot liquid in several quick gulps. “Shall we wake his Highness?”

“No need,” Culebra said softly, slowly sitting up, snakes slithering and spilling from him. “I do not know how you sleep day after day in this cold.” The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. “The next time I am kidnapped, I believe I will demand they bring my bed along.”

Cortez laughed and filled a spare cup, then moved around the fire and pressed it into Culebra’s hand. “Here you are, Highness.”

“Thank you,” Culebra murmured.

He really was pretty, which shouldn’t surprise her – except it did. The only rumors ever heard about the Basilisk Prince of Piedre all pertained to his solemnity, his somberness…and his eyes of course. Everyone who had ever so much as talked to someone who knew someone who knew someone who had glimpsed the prince at his birthday spoke of his tightly wrapped eyes, and how they stood frozen whenever that head turned in their direction.

Cortez rather thought it was his prettiness that probably stopped people in their tracks, rather than some imagined effect of his eyes through what had to be at least four layers of heavy linen.

“Drink quickly; we’ll have to travel harder than ever to make up for stopping. One person travels a lot faster than three, even if I know this area better than anyone.”

Culebra nodded and obediently drank quickly. Poor kid. He was so obviously used to being shoved here and there. She hoped whatever the people paying her wanted him for, it wasn’t too awful.

Shoving away pangs of guilt – she’d made her choices long ago – Cortez set to work packing up their little camp, tossing orders at Fidel, who grumbled good naturedly as he complied. Several minutes later they were ready to go, and Cortez helped Culebra mount her horse before she swung up behind him. Settling an arm around his waist, she signaled the horse and they were off into the woods as darkness turned to hazy early morning gray around them.

“Could I ask you something?” Culebra said several minutes later, voice filled with hesitation.

“No promise I’ll answer, Highness, but go ahead.”

“How are you so comfortable with me? Most people, handling a blind person, would do so quite awkwardly. Even your friend often fumbles…”

“Ah,” Cortez said softly. “My mother started going blind when I was twelve summers or so. Two years after that, her vision was gone completely. I learned fast how to take care of her.”

Culebra nodded and subsided into silence.

Cortez felt something move along her arm and tensed – then realized what it was. “Highness, if you don’t mind my asking a question?”

“No promise I’ll answer,” Culebra said, laughter in his voice.

“Explain the snakes?” Cortez asked.

“Was that a question or a polite demand?” Culebra asked. “Is she bothering you? I can tell her to leave.”

Cortez shook her head, and then rolled her eyes at herself. “Not bothering. I’m just curious as to why they are always around you.”

“They are my friends,” Culebra said softly. “They see me as…something of a father or big brother…but also someone whom they protect in turn. I am a shadow of the One who created them.”

“Fascinating,” Cortez said, meaning it.

Strange how that simple explanation suddenly made real to her just what exactly Prince Culebra was – the mortal reincarnation of a fallen god.

That had never meant anything before, not really. It was…too much. Easier to nod, accept, but never really understand. She knew of the lost gods as well as anyone, and knew all the stories of how they had been returning, how things seemed different now. None of that really struck her, except in a distant way.

To hear Prince Culebra speak so casually of the snakes loving him because he was the shadow of a god…to see evidence of that…and of course the bandages. If she didn’t watch it, those bandages would stir her curiosity and drive her mad. “Are your eyes truly deadly, then?”

“Yes,” Culebra said. His voice was calm, steady…but there was a chill there that shook even her. “I woke one morning and greeted the girl who used to bring my coffee…she froze in her tracks and could not move for almost a month. My eyes were bound immediately.”

The mercenary in her could not help but note how useful a trick something like that would be. To kill merely by looking…the rest of her chilled at such a thing, and she wasn’t easily frightened.

It made her wonder what her employer wanted with him. Prince Culebra was, of course, worth a pretty ransom. If she kept him and ransomed him herself, she could retire and live the rest of her life in the heart of Kundou.

That sort of thing was never worth the trouble though, even with a ransom as fine as Prince Culebra’s would be. She remembered the smelly, sour man who had hired her…she didn’t think ransom was the game here. The slimy bastard had screamed ‘dancing monkey for some rich lord’ and no rich lord would waste his time – or risk capture – for mere money. No, there were more effective black market ways to earn quick coin.

No, she had a sneaking suspicion this had to do with things she’d left behind years ago. Cortez swore she could feel the mark burning, on the inside of her right thigh. More than once she’d almost just cut the thing away herself; one more scar in a hundred wouldn’t make a difference.

Fidel kept her from doing it – not that he knew, of course. No, he never would. He was the whole reason she’d gotten out of that part of her life. Every single day, the black rose she’d let them tattoo into her skin reminded her that Fidel could only be her partner in crime.

She never should have joined that stupid cult – but that was an old recrimination, an old regret. No point in dwelling upon it now.

Except she wondered if she’d be seeing old ‘friends’ again when the journey ended. It was a worry she’d shoved to the back of her mind until now, focused only on the money the job could bring, on how to go about kidnapping Prince Culebra.

The rest of her attention had been focused on the fact that she’d have to walk into a room full of snakes – and hadn’t she played that nice and cool – and then on getting away.

Now, as the reality of all that Prince Culebra was struck her, so too did the reality of who would want him and why.

Well, she knew who, anyway. Not necessarily the why. Her greatest problem with the Black Rose was the same problem she had with every group – all they wanted was power, authority.

Why everyone wanted to be the one another group would come along and knock down was beyond her. She wanted a nice home, a few friends…Fidel…

Honestly. The Black Rose had spent most of their time annihilating threats, securing their position before making their final move – this one, she supposed. Her information that the prince was trying to run away had come from a former black rose like herself. There were not many of them.

If the Black Rose was behind this, she doubted they realized just who exactly their nasty little goon had hired to play fetch. They would want nothing to do with her, but ‘Cortez’ had nothing to do with ‘Fuerza’ – she’d made certain of that.

How deeply was she digging herself into trouble this time?

That would also explain why Fidel had been unusually cooperative in going along with the plan. Normally, schemes like this, he berated her for a week straight at least. She had wondered at his brief two day yelling spree.

She slid a look at her partner, who ran a bit ahead of them, his horse not weighted down by two people. Later they would switch. For now, however, she got to admire just how fine Fidel looked on a horse…that backside.

When she’d first ‘met’ Fidel, he had been little more than a kid – she hadn’t been much better, really – and would have been the cutest thing ever if she hadn’t just helped the Black Rose kill his parents.

They’d met again, years later, when they’d teamed up for an assignment. It wasn’t until three assignments later, when they’d grown comfortable with each other, that he’d told her how he’d gotten into the mercenary business. Then she’d realized who he was.

She should have told him the truth. She couldn’t. Fidel was the first person she’d met that seemed to understand her. Nor did he mind her less than feminine appearance – scales and teeth, more than a few would say her less than human appearance. Not that she worried much about how she looked anymore, there wasn’t much she could do about it, but it was nice that someone actually looked favorably upon her.

It was, of course, entirely fitting with her life that the one man who wanted her was the one she couldn’t, in good conscience – and she did have one, at least a little bit – ever approach. Just as well, probably. She was still hoping Fidel would be smart enough to get out of this life, while he still could.

She really hoped she was wrong about who was paying her to kidnap Culebra. If not…she feared Fidel might do something stupid. Really stupid. Fatally stupid.

Fidel suddenly stopped, his horse rearing up as he pulled hard at the reins.

“What’s wrong?” Cortez asked as she drew up alongside him.

“Nothing at all,” Fidel said calmly. “Idea just struck me suddenly. Road splits up ahead.”

“Yes…we’re going left. North to Aldea Azul, then up the Azul mountains.”

Fidel rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. I thought I’d go the other way, toward Aldea Molino. Even as fast as we’ve been moving, Cor, it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught us.” He slid his dark eyes pensively to Culebra. “If there’s anyone following us at all.”

Culebra merely smiled and nuzzled the snake that brushed against his cheek. “Corinos is following. He would sooner die than let anything happen to me.”

“Devoted bodyguard, eh?” Fidel asked, clearly amused.

“He loves me,” Culebra said softly.

“What’s your big plan?” Cortez asked, getting them back to what they should be discussing. It was almost painful, the confidence with which Prince Culebra said that. She wished…

Fidel blinked at her, obviously confused, then shook his head. “Oh. I thought I’d go into Alino Molino, get some more supplies for the mountain – but if he’s managed to follow our trail so far, then maybe I can confuse him a bit. It would make sense, to go into town. It’s not like he knows we’re going up Azul. If he’s following. One person travels a great deal faster than three. Even with our head start, he should have caught us by now.”

“Not necessarily,” Cortez said patiently. “We don’t know when this Corinos set out, or if he has others with him – we know nothing, Fidel, and so we must assume nothing.”

“Fine, have it your way,” Fidel said, holding up his hands. “I am going down into Morinos. I’ll do what I can. I’ll meet up with you.”

Cortez quirked a brow at him, but said nothing. “Don’t get into too much trouble. I can’t save you if I’m stuck in the woods.”

“Yes, Madre,” Fidel said tolerantly.

“Not funny,” Cortez said, swinging a light punch at him, clipping his shoulder and making Fidel laugh. “I’m not that old, you rock head.”

Fidel threw his head back and laughed, then winked at her. “No, you’re not – and for your age and temperament, Cortez, you look pretty good.” Before Cortez could reply, Fidel was gone, racing off down into the valley below them and away toward the horizon, where smoke could just be seen curling up toward the sky.

“Idiot,” Cortez muttered. “Looks like it’s just you and I, Highness.”

“Your friend chases death,” Culebra said softly.

Cortez froze. “What does that mean?” she asked sharply.

“I…I’m not certain,” Culebra said slowly. “He…he does not smell of death but…it clings to him all the same. As though he follows it…or perhaps it follows him…” Culebra hunched his shoulders, almost as if trying to hide himself. Cortez had never felt a body so knotted with tension as the one in front of her.

His words chilled her…and confused her. “You can…smell death?”

Culebra said nothing.

No. That was not playing fair. Cortez tightened her arm around his waist. “Highness, you cannot simply say something like that and then say nothing.”

“I am the Basilisk Prince of Piedre,” Culebra pointed out calmly. “I can do whatever I want.”

“You are my hostage. You do as I say.”

“Or else what?” Culebra asked, and Cortez could feel the belly of a snake as it slid across her arm.

“The pretty prince plays dirty,” Cortez said, and laughed briefly. “Tell me what you meant, Highness. Your words are disconcerting. I never heard rumors that you could predict death.”

Culebra laughed sadly. “Given that the last time I told someone that secret, I wound up getting kidnapped, you would think I would learn to keep my mouth shut.” He sighed. “It is just as I said – death clings to him, but it is not coming from him. I know what it feels like, smells like, when someone is going to die. He does not carry that scent. Death surrounds him all the same.”

“Fidel’s parents were murdered over a decade ago.” When she’d been twenty-three. Fidel had been only fifteen. “He’s been looking for their killers ever since.” She sighed and clicked her tongue to the horse, turning it to the left as they raced off down into the valley.

“No good ever came from revenge.”

The words were said as gently as Prince Culebra said everything else, low and calm – but there was an underlying strength to them. A wisdom that she didn’t think the prince would have.

Cortez wished she’d been the one to go into town; a nice, strong ale sounded like the best idea she’d had in a long while. “It is, Highness, on that I agree whole-heartedly. Do you think that would stop your Corinos, whom you say loves you, if you were to die?”

“Nothing would stop him,” Culebra said.

“I half hope he catches up to us, Highness, I would like to meet this bodyguard who loves you.”

“If you hurt him,” Culebra said, that strange edge creeping back into his voice, “Nothing will stop me.”

Cortez chuckled. “No, Highness, I would imagine not. I have seen a snake strike before. Some of them, they move faster than the eye can follow. Is it true that some of them eat their prey alive?”

“The one with me now does so…the venom in her fangs paralyzes but does not kill. She likes them that way.”

Despite herself, Cortez shuddered. She had taken her share of lives, for various reasons – though never for payment – but it had never brought her joy. There were men she’d met, who enjoyed it. She did not frighten easily, but those men had chilled her. There were still worse things she had heard of men doing, and enjoying…but to hear someone as beautiful and delicate-looking as Prince Culebra say so calmly that the snake he held so gently…slept with every night…enjoyed eating her food while it was still alive… “At least the snake is honest about it.”

She could feel Culebra laugh. “That is very true. Still, snakes only kill to eat. I have never known a snake who killed for the joy of killing. This one hunts to eat, and she takes pleasure in the dining.”

That was certainly one way of looking at it that Cortez had not considered. “I am glad I’m too much of a mouthful for her.”

Culebra laughed. “She prefers rats, and I think she once caught a squirrel. That is all her venom is meant to hurt. You would be annoyed slightly, but nothing more.”

“Then I guess I shall have to fear a different snake, should I kill your beloved Corinos.”

“It would not be the snake that killed you.” Culebra’s voice this time was not the calm tone of the prince, nor the one filled with strength, wisdom. This time…it was as hard and unrelenting as stone.

What would it be like, Cortez wondered, to die from a mere glance. Would it hurt? Would she feel anything? It would certainly be unique. “I will remember, Highness.”



Chapter Eight


Corinos wanted very badly to fall over dead for at least a week straight.

Not, however, until he had wrung a certain neck and tied down a certain prince and paid back every last second of frustration and aggravation accrued over the past several days. Years.

With interest.

Lots and lots of interest.

By the time he was finished, they’d both be dead for a week straight.

Corinos snarled and shoved away the thoughts that were not helping whatsoever.

Whoever had Culebra knew what they were doing – unfortunately. Even Ruisenor seemed to have trouble finding their trail. The rain that had begun yesterday ruined what little hope they had of regaining their trail.

It was frustrating in the extreme not to be able to converse with his partner. Oh, he and Ruisenor managed, but it wasn’t the same. He couldn’t even bring himself to snap or yell at her, just because she couldn’t yell back.

That she could probably squeeze him to death also helped keep his mouth shut.

Irritably, Corinos drew his horse up to the stable of the only inn the town seemed to boast. As small as it was, he was impressed it even had one. Perhaps it was just close enough to the border with Verde to require it…it was also only a few days from the Azul mountains. Scales and teeth, he hoped Culebra was not somewhere in that cursed mountain range.

Shoving a coin into the hand of the bedraggled boy who appeared to take his horse, Corinos stomped into the inn and into the saddest dining room he’d ever seen. He shuddered to think of Culebra in places like this, what he must be eating and drinking. The prince was used to travel, but not like this. Such things as this would make him miserable – the awful smells, the unclean feel of the place…the crush of people, and all of it where he wouldn’t be able to run away.

Corinos hunched his shoulders against the despair clawing at him. He had to find Culebra, and worrying himself to death would not help. Ruisenor had found the trail every other time; she would find it again when the rain abated. Until then, he would rest where he wouldn’t drown and make himself sick – because that would not help him find the prince any faster.

He fell into the first relatively clean seat he saw, carefully not taking too close a look at the table. The table had one other occupant, across from him and down one, and Corinos spared him only enough attention to determine the man could handle himself but was no threat. He got a brief nod, returned it, then searched out a barmaid and signaled her for a drink.

“Careful,” the man said with a chuckle. “The ale tastes like piss. It makes me wonder.”

Corinos grimaced. “Thanks.” He pulled out two silver when the girl reached his table. “Bring me something worth drinking. A glass – make certain it’s a clean one.”

“Yessir,” the girl replied, eyes going wide at both the silver and his commanding tone, then turned and all but bolted for the kitchens.

“That’ll get you knifed around here, stranger. If they see silver, they’ll think you’re hiding gold.”

“Let them try,” Corinos said. “I could use a fight.” Gold. Ha. He had a royal signet. Flashing that would get him more than simple gold.

“Here in Morinos, you’ll get one.” The man nodded to a group of three men in the far corner. “Flash your silver their way, you’ll get one. The one with the beard, though, he’ll go for your back.”

Corinos threw his head back and laughed. “Friends of yours?” he asked.

The man snorted. “If by friend, you mean they’ve tried to knife me and wound up out cold? Yes. They tried it twice. I don’t think they’ll try it a third.”

Corinos glanced at the men in the corner again – two were larger than he, and the other had Granito’s compact, sturdy build. He turned back to the man at his table – much slighter, though too muscled to be truly slender. Something about the man did not fit with his rough image – if Corinos had to guess, he would say the man was a sword for hire. They always had that look about them. Yet something about this man did not fit that, though he could not place what. “What did you do to make them pay attention to you?”

“They insulted my partner. She tends to laugh such things off, but I did not take kindly to it. The second time was just because I left them in the mud the first.”

Corinos laughed. “Perhaps you are the one I should be worried about, stranger.”

“Fidel is the name, and you’ve no cause to worry from me.” Fidel extended his hand.

“Rino,” Corinos replied. “You seem too refined for this place.”

“I go where the money takes me, yeah? Besides, this is a good place to pick up things, if you know what I mean.”

Information. Swords to hire. An odd place for it, except that the Verde border was only three days away. He wondered how many of the room’s occupants were ferrets or owls or whatever. Curiosity drove him to look around the room again, but he saw no one with the tell-tale pale features and pointed ears.

“I could say the same of you,” Fidel said idly.

Corinos considered the question and the speaker. “Hunting,” he said at last.

“Dangerous business that.”

“But profitable,” Corinos said.

“Very true.”

They fell silent as the barmaid returned with a dusty bottle of something dark-amber in color and a glass. “Bring another,” Corinos said, and flipped her another silver. “Be quick.”

Obediently, the girl returned almost immediately with another glass. Neither of the two was what he’d ever describe as terribly clean, but they could have been much worse. He filled them both and passed one to Fidel.

“Obliged.”

Corinos shrugged the words away and took a sip from his own glass. Whiskey. Far from the best he’d had, but at least it wasn’t questionable swill. It took care of the chill that clung to him, and eased some of the tension from his muscles. “This weather is wretched.”

“It does rather make travel difficult. I should be leaving tonight to rejoin my partner; she will not be pleased when I show up a day late.” Fidel laughed. “She will be even more displeased that I had a roof and dry floor, while she is struggling outside.”

“If I were you,” Corinos said with a laugh of his own, “I would perhaps take the long way back to her.”

Fidel flashed a grin over the rim of his glass. “Tempting, I assure you. Cor has a mean left hook. The right – you do not wake up for a good hour or three, my friend. Sadly, I know this from experience.”

Corinos winced. “Nothing is worse than a woman who learned how to throw a punch. My mother? We were never late for dinner, I will tell you that.”

“My mother was much the same,” Fidel said, and Corinos saw a shadow pass over his face. “Still, my father would do anything for her.” The shadow deepened for a moment, then it was replaced with a smile. “Obviously I have his taste in women, to be with one who has shown me her right hook more than once.”

Chuckling, Corinos refilled both their glasses. “Maybe it’s the right hook you like, if you keep getting her to do it.”

“Maybe,” Fidel said with another smile. “What about you, my fine new friend. Hunting, you said. Hunting a right hook of your own?”

“Oh, I already have someone. He’s just being stupid and stubborn about it.”

Fidel nodded sagely. “My right hook, she is much the same. They all come around eventually. So I tell myself.”

Corinos smiled faintly, and it was…comforting, somehow, the way Fidel returned it. Like a…kinship, almost. Impossible, but still. Perhaps in another time or place, they could have been friends. He lifted his glass to his companion and finished the contents in one deep swallow. “I wonder if I dare find a bed in this place.”

“There’s an old woman at the edge of town who lets me rent the space above her stable, no questions asked. You are welcome to share.”

Corinos hesitated a moment, then wondered what his problem was – a bed over a stable was by far the best lodgings he’d had since he’d started this journey. If Fidel wound up being a problem, he could handle it. “I will gladly accept that offer. Anything is better than the lice-ridden ticking that must infest this place.”

“I try not to think too hard about it,” Fidel said. “Unless you’ve reason to linger, I say we go while the rain has abated slightly.”

“Sounds good,” Corinos said. He shoved back his chair and followed Fidel from the room, back out into the wet night. Thankfully, as Fidel had said, the rainfall had slowed to a drizzle. I’ll have to come back for my horse.”

“I as well,” Fidel said. “This way.” He cut abruptly between two houses, the narrow passage dumping them onto a smaller street. Fidel moved quickly, lightly, and Corinos could see he that for all the strength he clearly possessed, Fidel’s main asset was his speed. He bet the man had several knives tucked away, and was more proficient with those than the sword he wore – though the ease with which he carried the sword spoke of skill aplenty.

Corinos followed silently, attention divided between Fidel and their surroundings. No one seemed to be following them. That was good. Several minutes later they reached the edge of the little town, where stood an old but sturdy cottage. Fidel rapped briefly three times on the front door, then twice more, then he motioned for Corinos to follow him to a little stable out behind the cottage. “Her husband was fond of his horses, so he built this little stable.”

It was fairly well sized considering the small cottage – four horses easy, and plenty of room above. Corinos took it all in as he followed Fidel up the ladder. The stable smelled like any other stable – hay, dust, horse, mingled with the scent of rain and wet earth. Not entirely unpleasant, though he sorely missed sitting beside Culebra as he slept, smelling only the clean prince, fresh linen and the crackling fire.

He cut the thoughts off, determined to get some sleep for once and not be kept awake by worry and longing. He would find Culebra. They would settle matters. All would be well. That was the plan, and he would see it through to its completion. Yawning, Corinos laid his cloak out over a support beam, then laid his sword next to where he would sleep. A couple minutes searching resulted in a couple of horse blankets, one of which he threw to Fidel.

Arranging the hay as best he could, Corinos reached out to assure himself his sword was near to hand, then waited for Fidel to blow out the lantern and settle down before he finally allowed his eyes to close.



He woke to movement that seemed out of place, and reached soundlessly for his sword. Beside him he could just see the shadow of Fidel, moving with equal care.

Below them, the strange noises resolved themselves into voices hissing at each other in a poor attempt at whispering.

Fidel slid closer to him, movements perfectly soundless – or near enough with the noise below – and breathed quietly in his ear. “Round three, I think. Though if they are here for your silver and gold, my friend, I guess it counts as round one. I will take care of them.”

“I will help,” Corinos said. He pulled his sword free and slowly stood up – and as a head appeared in front of him, visible only because his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he reached out and kicked the idiot back.

There was a loud crash as man and ladder fell to the stable floor. Something made a sickening crack, and it was followed by a quickly muffled cry of pain. Corinos wasted no time, but jumped down from the upper level, hoping his memory of the stable held up – and landed in the second stall from the left. Even as he heard Fidel land in the next stall over, he was moving, rushing out into the stable proper, catching one man by the back of his shirt as he tried to flee, throwing him into a wall, then punching him hard in the gut.

The would-be attacker slid to the ground with a groan and went still. Corinos kicked him hard for good measure.

Silence fell around them, and he turned to see Fidel had caught the last one by the open stable door.

“They’re not very good at this,” Corinos commented.

Fidel flashed a grin. “They are stupid, and so think everyone else must be just as stupid. As I said, they saw your silver and thought it must mean you had gold – and by showing it, you proved yourself stupid. They make that mistake a lot.”

“I am surprised they’re left alive to keep at it.”

“No one wants to bother with such idiots. If I kill, it should be for a good reason. If I killed every annoyance…” Fidel grimaced. “Though, if we want to sleep again, we will have to do something with them first.”

Corinos sighed. He felt more rested after the few hours he’d had than he had since leaving the palace, but a few more hours would be nice. Ah, well. He was rescuing a prince. No time for extra sleep. “I should probably just be on my way, now that it appears the rain has abated. I thank you, though, for the rest and assistance.” Irritably, Corinos reached out and kicked the unconscious man at his feet in the side.

“Which way are you headed?”

“Up the Azul, I think.” Corinos sighed, all his exhaustion suddenly coming back. “It depends on where my prey has gone. The rain ruined the trail I was following.”

“I am headed that way myself, actually,” Fidel said, tilting his head in thought. “My dear right hook is meeting me near the top of the mountain.”

Corinos laughed. “A right hook is what you might get, for leaving her to suffer through the rain while you had a nice, dry, stable.”

“My friend, the first thing a man learns when dealing with a woman is when to tell her the truth, when to not say anything, and when to lie – at least, if he is a smart man. I like to think I am a smart man, at least relatively.” Fidel grinned. “She’ll probably find me out anyway, Cor is good like that, but I will try to save my skin.”

Laughing again, Corinos lifted the ladder off the man who had tumbled down with it and set it upright again. Scaling it, he quickly retrieved their things from up above. “Then I guess we should be going. It sounds as though for a little while, at least, we are going the same way. I…would be glad of the company.”

“As would I,” Fidel said with a smile. “We are strangers you and I, but I sense we could be friends.”

“I sense the same,” Corinos said, wishing it was possible. It wasn’t, but he would enjoy the company while it lasted. And, he would have Culebra at the end of all this. That was worth everything, even a chance for friendship. “Let’s go.”

Fidel nodded and led the way back to the stables. Corinos flipped the stable boy a few coppers, then mounted his horse and led the way out of town, going up across the valley and toward the path he knew cut through the mountains.

It wasn’t an area he’d actually visited, but his father had known the area well and had told his sons as much as he possibly could. Corinos had memorized everything. He’d also left Ruisenor around here somewhere, but there was no point in looking for her. She would find him when she felt like it.

Of course, without her he had no idea where he should be going.

“So which direction are you headed?”

Corinos frowned. “I will have to do some searching, unfortunately…” He sighed and tried to put his thoughts in order. They could be anywhere. He had no reason to believe, whatsoever, that Culebra’s kidnappers were taking him up the Azul. However, there wasn’t much else in this direction. The opposite direction led only toward Verde, or deeper into the woods until you hit the edge of the Azul Mountains and eventually the coast.

Then again, there was nothing in the Azul Mountains except a few small, scattered villages. Who could say for certain, though? If he knew what the kidnappers were about, he would not be standing around waiting for a giant snake to show him where to go.

“Merciful gods!” Fidel cried out. Corinos whipped his head up and around just in time to see Ruisenor drop down upon Fidel from above, twining around him, knocking him from his horse. If she was bothered by the impact with the ground, she did not show it.

“Ruisenor!” Corinos dismounted and bolted over to them. “What are you doing, you confounded…” his words died as realization struck him. Ruisenor had never attacked anyone. She never would, he knew that, unless… “Let him go, Ruisenor.”

The snake looked up at him, then slowly unwound her body from around Fidel, who begun gasping and choking for breath.

Corinos grabbed Fidel by the scruff of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. “Where is his Highness?”

“W-What?” Fidel asked, blinking at him.

Corinos shook him hard. “Where is Prince Culebra!”

Fidel’s eyes widened. “How—how did you know?”

“I am Corinos, royal bodyguard to his Highness. You will tell me where he is or I will let the snake finish what she started.”

For answer, Fidel merely kicked out, knocking Corinos momentarily off balance. Swearing, Corinos recovered and threw himself at Fidel, who had been running for his horse. They wrestled on the ground, neither quite able to get to his sword, settling for fists and feet.

Finally Corinos got the upper hand, and pinned Fidel down, pulling a dagger and holding it to his throat. Blood from his own split lip dripped down on Fidel’s throat and torn shirt. “You will take me to his Highness, or I will tell Ruisenor to eat you alive.”

“I will die before I give up my partner. I’m not stupid, bodyguard, I know you will kill us both, though it was nothing personal and we have not hurt your prince.”

Corinos frowned, suddenly torn. He had planned to kill anyone who had so much as touched Culebra…but this man was not what he’d been expecting. There was little point in taking back that he had more than once thought they could be friends, that they had both said as much.

Scales and teeth, why could nothing ever be simple? It made him tired. Angry.

“I do not kill unless I have to,” he said finally. “Take me to my prince, and I will let you both live.”

Fidel glowered. “Why should I believe you, given that you have a blade pressed to my throat?”

Corinos grunted, hesitated, then heaved a mental sigh and went with his gut feeling – he didn’t like it, but he’d go with it for now. He pulled back and sheathed his dagger, then hauled them both to their feet. “Take me to my prince, Fidel, and I will let you both go. If you try to run, or if you try to keep me from him, I will kill you. Otherwise, you have nothing to fear from me…because maybe, otherwise, we could have been friends.”

Fidel eyed him cautiously, then his mouth twisted in a sad, bitter smile. “Because maybe, otherwise, we could have been friends. I never liked the plan anyway. It was only because I thought doing so would lead us to the Roses that I agreed to help Cortez do it. Come, I will take you to your prince…do not let that snake near me. Scales and teeth, that is no snake – it is a nightmare.”

“She will not hurt you now,” Corinos said with a laugh. “Not unless you try to trick us. She will know.”

“I will not trick you,” Fidel said, and mounted his horse, then turned and with a motion to follow, led them away into the forest.

Comments

[wobblygoblin.livejournal.com]

Dude, I haven't read this yet, but I will. Firstly, however, kungfooqueen just posted this on my friends list: http://www.mediafire.com/?9nnmtkmduwd

It is Jeremy Irons narrating Lolita. :O

[tsaiko.livejournal.com]

Fidel gets mad props for not crapping his pants when Ruisenor fell on him. The more I read this, the more intrigued I become. I can't wait to see what happens.

[eurynome-on-ice.livejournal.com]

Yesssssss!!!

Meeting! Inside I'm squealing. I just want to cuddle Culebra. He's so innocent and fluffy and cute and then turns around and gets all rarrr when people even think about hurting Corinos. Grumpy!Corinos is fun to read.

[greyinthedark.livejournal.com]

Eee. Eee! I just could not love this story more if it came with a Tim Horto's gift card. *loves beyond reason* Culebra is one of the most fascinating characters you've ever written and I love that we're getting all these different perspective on him. Corinos is the perfect match for him, and it's incredibly amusing to see that Culebra always winds up with the upper hand despite all his thoughts of meekness. Meanwhile, Ruisenor is just too many kinds of awesome to describe - the image of a giant snake doing what can only be described as pouncing on Fidel is going to be amusing me all day. ^_^

[mechante-fille.livejournal.com]

Corinos and Fidel meeting up is so much wonderfulness! I was so looking forward to this update all day yesterday. Who knew I'd be looking forward to a Monday? But my wildest imagination would not have come up with the yumminess of these two chapters. I love the understandings they are coming to. Cortez and Culebra are almost friends, in a measured 'I will kill you if it comes to it' kind of way. And now Fidel and Corinos, too!!

Cortez's longing for Fidel is so beautiful. And her role in his parents death, and innability to ever pull off getting closer to him without hurting him is so tragic. I do hope they find a way past that. (I'm blinding myself to the Maderr Happing Ending Rule for the time being...)^_^

Looking forward to Thursday! And perhaps so Sugar and Spice before then? *is hopeful*

[macteague.livejournal.com]

Love these two chapters. Cortez and Fidel are a fascinating combination, and I enjoyed the way Cortez is slowly starting to realize just who she's kidnapped. Interesting turn that she was once involved in the Black Rose group.

Fidel and Corinos were having so much fun together I almost felt sorry Corinos had to find out Fidel was one of the kidnappers. Ruisenor made that clear rather... ::cough:: dramatically. If everyone in this story just stopped and thought about it, I'm pretty sure they'd be changing their behaviour REALLY fast -- I wouldn't want Ruisenor mad at me!! LOL

I like the way Culebra could actually easily take control of the situation, but doesn't really think of it as an option, although he's quite prepared to should Corinos be in danger.

*LOVE*

[tk-j.livejournal.com]

*LOOOOVE* when I realized that this is apart of the Lost Gods (sort of) I had to go and read them so *squee* much love to you maderr! Your writing has definately gone from amazing to incredable! If you writing, in my mind, could get any better it has! (oie 7 days until my birthday- or six...I tend to hide from my calender during the weekends so I don't think about school lOl)

[mailechan.livejournal.com]

GAAAAAAAH! *love, love, love, love, love*

I want so bad for them all to be friends! Argh! Argh! Fidel and Cortez! Corinos and Culebras!

*loves some more*

I really liked your description of her hair. Board-straight. I like that.

[emthornhill.livejournal.com]

hee...I so can't wait until Corinos gets his hands on the Prince! It so will be a fun read. ^___^

[the-beccaroo.livejournal.com]

Eee. Protective Culebra is amazing - you sort of see him as the slender, lithe sort of prince, but there is definitely a deadly edge to him. How perfectly snake-like. ^_^

[chrysan.livejournal.com]

Lol. I couldn't stop laughing when Corinos and Fidel met through such sheer coincidence and commiserated with each other about their love interests. XD

*adores Ruisenor*

lucky!

[shirikaisin.livejournal.com]

I never thought I would see book 3! I should start visiting livejournals more often instead of just haunting webpages.. anyway I <3 Fidel! I think its hilarious he can have a giant snake that could kill him in one squeeze circling about him and still come out of it without being scared s***less.
Annyywayyy now that its been a year since I saw this, I'm going to keep reading and ignore whatever work i'm supposed to be doing =D I hope Corinos manages to convince Culebra to accept his affections heheeee I love your works so far!