Story - Home
May. 26th, 2008 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrThis is unbeta'ed. It'll get beta'ed at some point, but who knows when, and I don't want it to hang out indefinitely on my computer. So, here it is, Duke and Monk story, as requested. And now I remember why I so rarely write 10,000+ words in one day. x.x Now that I'm exhausted, I'm going to bed.
Bedros stared broodingly at the rug before the fireplace, still lightly holding the letter which had come only a few hours ago.
It said only what he had expected to hear, had braced himself to read, but it cut deep all the same.
You are best suited to remain guarding the border. No other is nearly as capable as you in that duty.
Which translated as you've let me down for the last damn time, so stay there and rot until you die.
"To the Nether Regions with you, then," he muttered to the fireplace, but without any real heat. He had well and truly lost the battle, and it was all his own fault, and so he needed to quite brooding upon it.
He could not, however. All his choices had been made with good reason, but he seemed the only one capable of seeing that. The one thing which had not been his choice had been his exile to a forgotten corner of the kingdom to defend a border that didn't really need defending, except when the 'enemy' got bored enough to try crossing.
Realizing he'd unintentionally tightened his grip, he released his hold and smoothed out the costly vellum, rereading the words despite himself. The letter was perfectly polite, elegant and smooth…and cold as ice.
They had been friends, once. The very best. Then the King had died, and Godar had assumed the crown, and his best friend had turned into a complete stranger.
Sighing, Bedros finally set the letter aside, taking up his wine and downing the contents in one long swallow.
Most of the time, he didn't really mind his exile – for it was exile, no matter how the pretty letters tried to phrase – but on nights like this, he hated it. There were no friends to call upon, no one to call at his door, no dinners or hunts to which he was invited, no lovers to take to his bed.
Just his empty solar, the noises of the keep muffled and distant.
Oh, he had friends after a fashion, but even Nerek and Kohar were a bit removed – especially now that they'd finally come to their damned senses, and if they'd taken any longer about it he'd fully intended to knock their heads together.
If he'd agreed to that long ago execution, he'd still be back home. If he'd married that damned harridan, he could have returned home.
Almost. He'd almost been able to make himself go through with it. On paper, it had seemed so easy. Marry the woman, be a good, obedient peer of the realm, and he could go back to the life he'd been forced to leave behind. He'd go back to respectability, popularity, back to being someone.
But he couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. He'd given up everything to stand by his decision, and he was not capable of undermining that by going back on his word and actions by marrying the damn Countess.
Never mind she'd been a scheming, gold-hungry harridan anyway. There'd been a few women in his bed over the years, though precious few, and all the damned Countess had managed was to remind him why he generally preferred men.
Sighing, he considered calling for more wine, but decided against it. If he gave in to the urge, he'd wind up regretting it come morning, cause he seriously doubted he'd have the sense to stop.
Instead, he set aside his empty cup and strode the door that led the chapel. Technically, it led to the little balcony overlooking the castle's chapel. The balcony was reserved exclusively for the lord of the keep, technically, but Bedros did not bother to stand much on ceremony.
Regions, he didn't think anyone bothered to use the chapel, minus the odd solider here and there after he'd crossed Nerek.
Until Taniel had arrived, anyway.
At such a late hour, Bedros had expected to find the chapel empty. It wasn't.
Instead he was treated to the lovely sight of Taniel bent over in prayer, displaying his comely back, and all that beautiful, golden hair. He didn't know much about monks, but it seemed odd that one of them would have so much hair. Surely it was distracting, or something.
Where had he come from, to have hair the color of sunshine? His knowledge of foreign lands was murky at best, but he thought he would have remembered a place that boasted people with such beautiful hair.
Beautiful anything else. He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a pious man – but since the arrival of Taniel he had thought more and more about religion.
Well, he'd been thinking about Taniel in the chapel and what exactly they could do with all those lovely surfaces. That was about as close to religion as he would ever get.
He stood still and quiet as he watched and listened to Taniel pray, loathe to disturb him. A month had passed since Taniel's arrival, the attack brought to his castle by damnable Siran. Nothing further had come to pass, but Taniel did not think it was over.
Bedros just hoped no one else died because of a stupid feud between monks.
It should be harder to believe that a monk would act in such cruel fashion, but he knew all too well how deceptive appearances could be. Back home, at least, religion was just a different angle from which to play the game of politics.
He wondered how Taniel had gotten tangled up in it all. Like his brother, he seemed far more interested in magic than anything else around him – and he'd always thought Kohar obsessed. Taniel's knowledge and magical ability gave new meaning to the word.
Regions, according to Kohar, his brother did not even need a rune monocle. Bedros still could not wrap his mind around that.
Below in the chapel, Taniel stirred from his prayers, breaking into Bedros' aimless thoughts. He stepped back as Taniel stood, not wanting to be caught intruding on what was likely a private matter.
But Taniel almost immediately looked up, a smile on his pretty face. Where Kohar always looked so severe, despite his beauty, Taniel had a…gentleness about him. It made Bedros want to smile and touch him, no matter how foul his mood, and after the letter, it was quite foul.
"Your grace is up late," Taniel said. "Are you unable to sleep?"
"I received a late night missive," Bedros replied, surprising himself. "It has ruined me for sleep, I'm afraid. What of you, monk? Is it common for you to be up at so late an hour?"
Taniel smiled. "I've always been something of a night owl, your grace. Morning prayers are an agony, and I often was punished for sleeping straight through them, but I always attended the evening and nightly prayers. "
Bedros smiled, bracing his arms on the railing, leaning slightly over the edge. "Well, we have that much in common. I rise late because I seldom go to bed before morning."
That earned him a laugh, the sound echoing through the chapel, and Bedros felt his unhappiness melt away as easily as that. It would come back, but for the moment at least it could not compete with present company.
"Finished with your prayers, monk? What mischief are you intending to get into now?"
"Oh, I've had my fill of mischief, your grace," Taniel said, smiling fading slightly. "I thought perhaps a walk."
Bedros stirred at that. A walk, that sounded just the thing. "Would you care for company? Perhaps a walk would ease my own restlessness."
Taniel looked at him in surprise. "Not at all, your grace. I will meet you in the courtyard, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable," Bedros replied, and with a smile vanished back into his room, where he quickly discarded his chamber clothes for sturdier outdoor wear, finishing off with high boots and a heavy cloak. The snow was only light upon the ground, but the air was still bitterly cold.
Out in the courtyard, Taniel waited patiently for him, nothing more than a shadow in his pitch black cloak, the deep hood drawn up over his head. Only the torches scattered about separated Taniel from the darkness.
It was a strange hour to take a walk, but Bedros had done far stranger things at far stranger hours. Anything, really, was better than sitting in his room for even a minute longer. Chased by the words of the hated letter, he increased his pace and joined Taniel. "Shall we?"
"I have not explored the land much, your grace. Which path should we take?"
"Hmm…" Bedros thought a moment, then led the way out and took a path that wandered toward the village a bit, but veered off a mile or so from it to lead into the more distant forest. Not that they would go that far – even he wasn't stupid enough to walk through a forest in the dark.
High above, a fat full moon lit up the sky, making the few clouds look as though they were made of shadow and spun silver.
Their breaths misted in the dark, boots crunching on the snow and ice and slush.
"So how long until your monastery misses you and demands your return?" Bedros asked, then realized how that sounded and added, "Not that you are not welcome here indefinitely. I think the presence of his brother has improved Kohar's mood at least threefold."
"I think his improved mood has less to do with my presence and more to do with having the captain in his bed," Taniel replied dryly.
Bedros chuckled. "Perhaps. I was beginning to think they would never figure it out."
"Kohar was always more than a little oblivious when it came to the obvious," Taniel replied with the strange glee that all siblings seemed to display when ratting each other out.
He wondered idly if being oblivious to sexual interest was a trait which ran in the family, or if Taniel was just used to ignoring it.
"So where do you come from, originally, if you do not mind my asking. I was just thinking earlier that my knowledge of foreign lands is woefully lacking, for I cannot place you."
Taniel laughed weakly in the dark, a grimace just barely visible on his face. "To be honest, your grace, I do not know. I never did. Kohar's parents found me on their travels around the kingdom. I was quite young, only three or so. They said they found me wandering the streets, and that I seemed to have been drugged. It was their surmise that I had been kidnapped to be sold off to one of the many, uh, houses in the city. Their best guess was that I somehow escaped, though probably by sheer accident." He shrugged, the movement barely visible. "They took me in, and wound up keeping me."
Anger stirred at the idea that anyone could and would kidnap a helpless child and sell him off for sexual depravity. "I'm glad they saved you from that life," he said quietly. "So how did you become a monk?"
"I started off the same as Kohar, following eagerly in his footsteps – I was always closer to Kohar than anyone else – but as I progressed, I became a bit more interested in the more arcane magics. Once our sister and parents died…" He shrugged. "I chose to follow my arcane interests, and the only ones allowed to study magic at that level are the monks."
Bedros nodded, smiling in the moonlight as they reached the split in the road, turning down the path that would eventually lead to the forest.
He felt Taniel hesitate.
"If you want to ask me something, by all means. Gods know I've been nosy enough."
Taniel laughed. "Given that the demons were entirely my fault, your grace, you have been far more than kind and considerate. No one would have taken it amiss if you had ordered me locked up and severely punished. If you want to ask a few harmless questions, by all means."
"I am more curious as to what question you are hesitating to ask me," Bedros replied.
"My brother has always spoken highly of you in his letters, your grace. We get visitors often in the monastery, people looking for further information on this or that spell, seeking our services in casting spells…others come to recuperate, or simply to get away from city life. The life of a monk is not really a quiet one, in the end. Before I left, the halls were filled with filled with gossip of you. Next to my brothers praise, I could not countenance any of it, but I was curious as to what had given rise to such malicious talk."
Bedros grimaced in the dark, and nearly turned around to stalk back to the castle. "I angered a King," he said finally. "Then I angered a woman."
"Well, that wasn't very smart of you," Taniel said, gentle laughter in his voice. "That certainly explains much of what I was hearing, your grace. Thank you for indulging my rude curiosity."
"At least you ask, rather than assume," Bedros said.
"Assumptions are a foolish thing to make where magic is concerned," Taniel said. "That aside, people liked to make assumptions about me. Half the world thinks I am my father's bastard child, the other half thinks my mother had an affair. No one wanted to believe the simple truth – that they found me, and wound up caring enough about me to go to the trouble of adoption."
Bedros nodded in sympathy. People loved to make assumptions, especially when the truth was too boring to be tolerated. "It certainly does—"
His words were cut off as he was abruptly shoved down, landing face first in a snow drift. He struggled to sit up, even as Taniel held him down, hissing at him not to move.
Then he heard words of magic, and abruptly stilled. If there was one thing he knew, it was not to argue with a mage casting spells.
A couple of minutes later Taniel fell silent, and a far more gentle touch to his shoulder indicated that Bedros could sit up.
He did so, shivering at the snow which had slipped beneath his collar, numbed his face where he'd been shoved into it. "What was that all about?"
"Someone was scrying for me," Taniel said. He snorted. "Someone. Bah! Vosgi is scrying for me, likely to see what I am up to now, and how he can use it to hurt me." He laughed, the sound bitter and weary, all the more awful for coming from someone who had struck Bedros as generally happy in demeanor. "The first betrayal was his, but he likes to forget that part and focus only on the fact that I turned him in." He sighed. "Come, your grace. We should return lest he attempts to cast another scrying. If he saw you, then he will know I'm here, and I do not want to bring still more trouble to your castle."
Bedros brushed snow from his clothes and righted his twisted up cloak. "Scrying?"
"Yes," Taniel said, and Bedros was relieved to hear the negativity leave his tone and manner. "The art of seeing that which is far away. Vosgi is very good at scrying." He laughed softly. "I am better, but he is very good."
"I see modesty is a trait not inflicted upon anyone in your family, but I guess you're both too talented and beautiful to waste time with modesty."
Taniel made a weird, choked sort of sound that Bedros could not puzzle out.
Putting it aside to figure out later, he switched back to the scrying. "How does scrying work?"
"It's fairly simple in appearance and explanation, but rather tricky in execution," Taniel replied, and explained the process to him as they made their way quickly back to the castle.
Bedros shook his head in wonder. "I am amazed. You make it sound so simple, yet I know precious few mages would be capable of it. Even your brother, I think, would have trouble with something like scrying?"
Taniel shrugged. "I'm sure he could learn it if he wanted – Kohar never wanted to go quite that far." He sighed as they reached the castle, passing through the gates. "There, within the castle walls no scrying spell can reach us. I made certain of that when I helped Kohar rebuild the wards."
"I am grateful for your help," Bedros replied.
"I am the reason you had to rebuild them," Taniel said.
They both paused as the main door to the barracks flew open. "Duke," Nerek bellowed. "What in the Regions are you doing walking about like that? Do not make me beat you the way I have to beat my soldiers."
"Peace, Captain," Bedros said, holding up his hands in defeat. "I was quite safe, and I'm never really in danger here anyway."
Much to the disappointment of the King, whom he knew had hoped that Bedros would get himself killed defending the border.
Bedros was more than happy to keep defying the bastard, even if he seemed to be suffering more than the King over it.
Nerek glared, unappeased.
Bedros yawned. "Go back to your mage, Captain, and I will cart myself obediently to my bed."
Taniel chuckled. "I will see his grace gets to his room, Captain. Its my fault entirely, for inviting him to walk with me."
Nerek nodded, glaring after them, and Bedros thought he caught a bit of muttering about mages and causing trouble.
Beside him, Taniel snickered, shooting Bedros a sideways glance of victory in shared mischief.
Bedros smiled, and could not remember a night when he had smile so genuinely, so often. "I hope I do not get you in trouble with your brother in the morning, my good monk. I thank you for the company, it made the long night an enjoyable one."
"You returned the favor, your grace, I assure you," Taniel replied, and swept him a graceful bow, hair tumbling free where it had been trapped in his hood, brilliant gold.
His finger twitched with an urge to touch, to drag Taniel close and see what else Taniel could do to make the night pleasant…and he really could not blame Nerek one bit for constantly stealing and hiding Kohar's combs. For all they did not actually share blood, the two mages were definitely brothers.
He backed away, murmuring his good nights, and closed the door to his solar before he did something stupid. The very last thing he needed to do was antagonize the closest thing he had to friends, now, and bedding the monk brother of his mage definitely counted as antagonizing.
Stifling a sigh, he stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside, then pushed back his bed curtains enough to slip inside. The huge bed was one of the few things he had insisted upon dismantling and taking with him on the laborious trek across country and up the mountains.
The men he'd hired to do it had hated him the entire journey, but they'd been plenty mollified with their payment. And he had his bed, wide and long and roomy, soft and so very easy to sink into – and hard to climb out of every morning.
Well, it had been hard to leave, once. These days, the empty bed more than anything else reinforced his loneliness.
Yawning, he tugged up the soft, warm blankets, settling into the ticking and thinking pleasant thoughts about gold-haired monks until he finally fell asleep.
When he woke again, it was to the clattering and fussing of one of the maids setting out his breakfast – or possibly lunch, to judge by the bits of sunlight peeking through the bed curtains.
He waited until the noise had quieted before finally pushing back the curtains and sliding out. The one and only time he'd unthinkingly stepped out naked while she was still the room, he'd gotten looks and whispers and giggles for two weeks.
Except the maid hadn't departed, and it wasn't actually the maid who had brought his food. Staring a moment, horribly confused as to why Taniel was standing in his room.
Then he remembered he was naked.
Turning hastily away, he fumbled for the morning robe flung over a nearby chair.
"Good morning, your grace," Taniel said, coughing, and when Bedros finally turned back he saw Taniel's cheeks were flushed a becoming shade of pink.
But while he was definitely embarrassed, that wasn't the only thing in his eyes.
Interesting. The monk was not perhaps as innocent as he'd always seemed.
He was also Kohar's brother, Bedros reminded himself.
"Good morning, monk," he said congenially. "Did you take over the duty of delivering the spoiled Duke's breakfast?"
Taniel laughed. "Only for today, your grace." His levity faded. "I went to the kitchens to find breakfast, and they were missing a few maids to illness. I investigated briefly, and it seems to be just a case of them eating bad food…" He shrugged. "I will investigate further to assure myself I am only being paranoid, but I thought you should know." His lips twitched. "Next time, I will knock more loudly."
"Yes, please," Bedros said, grinning. "The last thing I need is Kohar cursing me for taking liberties with his little brother."
"It's none of his business who takes liberties with me," Taniel said, rolling his eyes.
Bedros fought not to show his surprise. Had Taniel just indicated…
"Not that I would dare suggest your grace would take liberties with a lowly monk," Taniel added. "That would be highly inappropriate in many ways." He sketched another of his elegant bows, hair brilliant in the sunlight pouring through the windows, then turned and let himself out.
He continued to stare after Taniel had gone, breakfast forgotten.
Surely not. Eventually, Taniel would go back to his temple. Studying esoteric magic was far more interesting than staying holed up in a corner of the world even the gods had forgotten. There was no way in all the Regions that Taniel had just hinted he would not mind a few liberties being taken.
Grimacing, for he was obviously thinking with the wrong portion of his anatomy, Bedros called for a bath and then set to decimating his breakfast.
"What's this about my maids getting sick?" he asked when a couple of men appeared to set up his bath and begin hauling in the water.
One of them paused. "Ate some bad berries, your grace. Master Kohar and his brother are looking into it, and Nerek went off to find the berries and destroy whatever remains."
Bedros smiled briefly. As efficient as his Captain and mage were, his own presence often seemed entirely superfluous. "Well, when the berries are found, bring a few to me. I'd like to see if I can match them to some of my flora books."
"Yes, your grace. I'll pass the instructions on." Bowing, the men vanished to begin fetching the water.
Two hours later Bedros ventured downstairs to find his grand hall in a state of mild chaos. Everything paused for a moment as they realized who now stood in the doorway, but a moment later Kohar's voice cracked out, and everyone scrambled back to work.
"What in the world is going on?" Bedros demanded. "If something is wrong, why was it not brought to my attention sooner?" Was he really that unnecessary? He shoved the depressing thought aside.
"Your grace, at the moment we're not even certain what to tell you," Kohar said, frowning in annoyance. "We have seven servants and nine soldiers all severely sick. As near as we can tell, they all ate the same berries – but none of them stayed conscious long enough to tell us where they got the berries. It is the wrong time of years for them to have been picked."
Bedros frowned. "What did inquiries at the village turn up?"
"We haven't heard back yet," Nerek replied, then turned away sharply to bark at a couple of soldier loitering in the main doorway.
"Where is Taniel?" Bedros asked.
Kohar motioned toward the back of the castle. "Tending the sick, hoping to discover something we might have so far missed. I think he is not being paranoid in saying this is what his fellow is trying in lieu of succubi." He rubbed his forehead. "I really wish this bastard would just go the old fashioned route of challenging Tan to a duel or something."
"I'd win a duel," Taniel said, coming up behind them, wiping his hands on a rag, looking angry. "He never could stand that I was always one step ahead of him – in everything. It's why…" He shook his head. "It's why he's using these underhanded methods. I wish my apologies were sufficient to express my shame and dismay that you are all being harmed because he hates me."
Bedros reached out without thinking, cupping Taniel's cheek briefly, before drawing slowly away and tugging briefly at one gold strand. "It's not your fault. You're not responsible for his actions."
Taniel nodded, but did not look convinced. "We have to figure out what is up with these berries. It makes no sense that we cannot locate them, and examining the sick has not lent me further clues. If there is magic here, it is solely within the berries…" He sighed and pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples. "I need my supplies, but they were at least two weeks behind me. Assuming nothing went wrong, they may still not be here for days."
"Supplies?" Kohar asked.
"Yes," Taniel replied. "When I left the monastery, I took my equipment and personal copies of manuscripts with me."
Kohar frowned.
Bedros agreed. "That is permitted?"
"Ordinarily, no," Taniel said quietly. "However, I was never an ordinary monk, and the circumstances of my leaving were…" He shrugged. "Unlike the other monks, I purchased everything I own. The money I donated upon joining the monastery was extremely generous.
At this, Kohar snorted with laughter. "Your donation could have built a house or two."
"I guess I'd let you keep what you wanted, as well," Bedros said, shaking his head in wonder at such a ridiculous handling of money. What did a bunch of monks need with such great sums? There were wiser ways to spend it, surely.
"That does not explain the manuscripts," Kohar said, frown deepening when his brother only shook his head and refuse to answer.
Taniel ignored the look. "I am going into the village myself. Someone must know something, whether he is aware of it or not."
"I do not see why the berry itself matters so much," Bedros replied. "Isn't it more important to treat the illness, rather than focus exclusively on the source?"
"Hidden dangers," Taniel said, speaking before his brother could. "We need the berries to learn the exact nature of the spell being laid down – or if it’s a spell at all, since we have no proof of that save our own suppositions."
Kohar nodded. "If it is a spell, and we don't understand it's intended purpose exactly, we risk killing the victims with a cure."
Taniel bit his lip. "I really wish I had my supplies, then it would be a simple matter to figure this out."
"I guess I do not have what you would need," Kohar said with a sigh.
"No," Taniel said. "In such high level magic, the equipment is unique to the mage. If I am to cast the proper spells – and I need the books for those, anyway, for I don't have every last spell memorized – then it must be my equipment."
Kohar made a face. "I knew there was a reason I stopped at the levels I did. Too much trouble past that."
Taniel smiled briefly, but there was very little humor in it.
"So where are these supplies?" Nerek asked, coming up to join them.
"As I said, they were a couple of weeks behind me, since I was forced to leave the wagon when the weather grew worse, and it did not let up enough for about two weeks. They could come this very day, they may not come for several days yet. It's impossible to say."
"What would we be looking for?" Nerek asked.
"A wagon with chipped and faded blue paint," Taniel said, frowning in confusion. "Carrying three crates, all of them sealed shut with my own personal runes. Led by a team of two horses, guided by three men we hired in the village a couple of days out from the monastery."
Nerek put fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply, the sound painfully sharp in the confines of the hall.
Immediately three men appeared, one officer and two foot soldiers. They stood sharply at attention as Nerek gave them orders, then vanished as quickly as they had come.
"They will find your wagon," Nerek said, "and either bring the contents back here with all due haste, or tell us how much longer we must wait."
Taniel nodded. "Thank you. I am going into the village."
"I'll go with you," Kohar said.
"No," Taniel said. "It would be better to have mages in two places, and you obviously know the castle far better than I." Another faint smile. "I'll be fine, big brother, so stop fretting."
Kohar glowered. "I'm not fretting."
Taniel snickered, then with a wave left the hall.
"He's keeping something back," Kohar said, glaring after his brother. "There is something about all this he is not telling me, and if he doesn't hurry up and confess it, I'm going to beat him."
Bedros quirked a brow. "What could he possibly be hiding? The matter seems fairly straight forward."
Kohar shook his head. "I don't know…except…would you go to this much trouble over an angry coworker who had reported you?"
"An interesting questions," Bedros said quietly, sighing softly. "I think power changes men, and men drunk on power will go to any length when annihilating a threat, no matter if that threat is friend, enemy, or complete stranger."
"If it were just this illness, I would agree," Kohar said. "But the berries did not come first."
Both of Bedros' brows went up as comprehension dawned. "The succubi and incubi were the first attack. You think…this is a lot more personal than simply one monk turning in another as breaking laws."
"I think my brother is a healthy young man, who never really took seriously that monks should abstain from certain pleasures in life." Kohar said wryly. "I think if it was as simple as turning in a bad monk, he would not be this miserable. If you will excuse me, I am going to hunt him down and beat the truth out of him."
"No," Bedros said, shaking his head. "He was correct, in that it's better to have a mage here at all times. Let me speak with him – and the villagers all love me anyway, right?" He winked, because the villagers were fascinated by him, the odd, outspoken noble stuck in their midst.
Kohar gave him a withering look. "You lack subtlety, your grace. All this time in the country is ruining your abilities in that respect."
Bedros frowned, confused. "What?"
Nerek snickered and pulled Kohar away from Bedros. "He means, your intentions had better be honorable, your grace, or else."
"Intentions…I was not thinking about seducing your brother!" Bedros said, because he hadn't. At this moment.
Some of his guilt must have shown on his face, for Kohar rolled his eyes. "See that you both return in one piece, because if you manage to injure yourself, I will let Nerek lock you up as he wishes." With that, he turned and stalked from the hall, glaring at anyone who seemed even remotely close to getting in his way.
"I'll send guards with you," Nerek said, tearing his eyes away from the retreating Kohar. "You should not venture about without protection, your grace."
Bedros waved the notion away. "Please, I think the entire point of this was that I be left unguarded."
"Your grace?" Nerek asked, frowning in confusion.
"Nothing," Bedros said, sighing. "Forget I spoke. Make certain no one eats anything which does not first pass Kohar's approval. Destroy all berries on the premises, if you have not already done so. We'll be back in a few hours. If we're not back by nightfall, send some soldiers to locate us."
Nerek made a face, but relented. "As you wish, your grace. But we had better not find you in the tavern, or in a room above it."
"I am not going to have my wicked way with the brother of a friend," Bedros snapped, angry and annoyed – and guilt ridden, which just annoyed him more. Not waiting for a response, ignoring Nerek's taken aback look, he stomped out of the hall and crossed the courtyard to the stables, where his horse was ready and waiting.
Mounting, he rode out and made his way as quickly as was safe on the treacherous snowy ground.
He never caught up with Taniel, which confused him. He'd not been that far behind, and he'd been riding quickly – how fast had Taniel been riding?
Perhaps he hadn't trusted Kohar to actually stay put, and had not wanted to endure his brother's questions.
Bedros supposed he wouldn't either, in Taniel's place. Had Taniel and…he groped for the name Taniel had used the night before. V..v…ah, Vosgi. That was it. Had Taniel and Vosgi been lovers? That would certainly account for the succubus and incubus, which had always seemed extremely personal.
So he had not been entirely crazy, earlier this morning in his solar – Taniel had been flirting with him. But that was even more puzzling, if he was so recently broke from a lover who was upset enough to kill people just to hurt Taniel.
Bedros shook his head, sighing in sympathy. The current King had once been his best friend, and that friend had exiled him for daring to disagree with his King – and refusing to budge on the matter. He was grateful they had never wanted to turn from friends to lovers; likely he would have been beheaded or banished from the country altogether.
He reached the village a few minutes later, and dismounted, handing his horse off to a boy who rushed up eager for the coin he knew Bedros would hand over for tending his horse.
Smiling faintly, handing over the desired coin, Bedros left the horse and boy and ventured further into the village. Small but tidy, a far cry from the bustling city in which he'd grown up – but not bad at all, really. Certainly this little forgotten stretch of land high in the mountains had no need of a city proper. Nor did he have to guard every word, every action. No, here he was liked and trusted.
It was not so bad a thing to be, really.
He still saw no sign of Taniel.
Stopping a woman walking with a basket of carefully wrapped bundles, he inquired after Taniel.
"I saw him briefly, your grace. He went off towards the other end of the village, following that foolish butcher boy."
"Ah," Bedros said, smiling faintly. Well, that was not so bad. At least he was about. He'd run across Taniel at some point as they both questioned the villagers.
Continuing on his way, stopping to ask the various persons crossing his path, he slowly wended his way to the local inn and tavern.
It was mostly empty, most people probably not willing to venture from home when the weather could turn unpleasant in a moment.
One face he did not recognize, a man sitting at a table near the fire, quietly but cheerfully enjoying a simple meal of stew, bread, and cheese.
Ignoring him, Bedros moved to the bar and motioned to the barkeep, nodding his head at the stranger, whose back was now to them.
"Tinker, your grace," the barkeep replied. "Bit of a healer, too. He's been helping the village quite a bit, especially since Jortan broke his leg."
Bedros nodded, and ordered a cider, then moved to the tinker's table. "Mind a bit of company, good stranger?"
"Not at all," the man said pleasantly, displaying neat teeth set in a handsome face.
A very handsome face, beneath the dirt and grime of living in a hard land during the roughest season of the year. Cleaned up, he would be extremely easy on the eyes. "Your face I do not know, but I think I can take a guess," the man said, grinning. "The hair and the eyes, and I know a noble's demeanor when I see it. You must be his grace, the Duke of Rehm."
Bedros lifted his cider in acknowledgement. "Guilty, I'm afraid. You are?"
"Most folks call me Gee." He smiled, motioning absently in the air with his spoon.
No. Not absently. There was something…strange about the movements…
It was only as he slumped over that he realized it was exactly the way Kohar moved when he was casting spells.
When he woke up, it was to a throbbing head and the realization that he was not in the tavern.
Looking around, he realized he had no idea where he was.
Nerek was probably birthing kittens right now. The thought almost made him smile, but his head hurt too much for that, and the situation was a bit too grim.
A shack of some sort, from the looks of it. There was a small fire in a hearth so rundown his eye stung from the thin trails of smoke that did not quite make it up the chimney. Coughing, wincing at how much worse that made his poor head, he attempted to sit up and only then realized he'd been bound to a bed that looked filthy enough he preferred not to think about what might be infesting it.
The sound of movement brought his head up, and he watched as the door was flung open and someone stepped inside.
"I'm going to guess that you used to be a monk," he said.
Gee – Vosgi, he supposed – grinned. It was rather like the way a snake might smile before it struck. "Very clever, my lord. I'm certain Tan must be in quiet the frenzy by now, knowing I've got you and was right beneath his nose this entire time."
"You weren’t here when the demons attacked," Bedros said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered using Siran."
"No, I only arrived recently. I'd intended to be here when dear Tan arrived to see all the people he was responsible for killing, including his darling brother – but it would seem my merc ran off before he ensured the deed was truly done. So, I am taking it upon myself. You are not the brother, but I think you will suffice. Dear Tan will not like having a dead Duke on his conscience."
Bedros looked at him in disgust. "Don't you think this going a bit too far? I think we all have a former lover or two whom we would love to throttle, but killing everyone around him is excessive."
"Oh, did he admit that little bit?" Vosgi laughed. "Did he bother to mention we were much more than lovers?"
"More than lovers?"
"Yes," Vosgi replied. "We were perfectly attuned magically; dual casters. We could have easily been the most powerful mages in the kingdom, but he turned into a coward."
Dual casters. Bedros did not know much about magic, but he knew what that meant – mages whose energies were so similar, they could borrow from each other and work together on a level that eluded most. It was not terribly rare, but uncommon enough to be remarkable.
"Attuned magically, maybe, but obviously Taniel has more sense than you," he replied. "Certain magic is forbidden for a reason."
Vosgi scoffed. Cleaned up, he really was a handsome man. There was a passion in him, too, though obviously corrupted. He could easily see where Taniel would be attracted to him, especially if the bastard turned on the charm he'd only hinted at in the tavern.
"I would expect such cowardly words to come from a man with so weak a stomach he would rather spare an enemy than agree to his execution."
Familiar anger curled in Bedros' stomach, hot and sharp. "It had nothing to do with cowardice," he snarled. "I did not like the man, but I was not going to see him hanged as a scapegoat. If that makes me a coward, so be it. If I did not care what my King thought, then I certainly think your opinion can go to the Regions."
Chuckling, obviously satisfied with something, Vosgi moved to stoke the fire.
"So are you going to kill me and leave my corpse for your ex to find?"
He really didn't like thinking of Taniel as ever having fucked this man, never mind maybe possibly having been in love with him. The thought made him sick. It also made him want to punch the bastard in the face.
"I haven't quite decided what to do with you yet, your grace," Vosgi replied. "Suffice to say that if I had decided to kill you, your body would already by lying upon the snow somewhere. No, taking you was a bit of an impulse. I had simply planned to poison the entire castle, one idiot at a time, and watch as they all slowly died. This is infinitely more satisfying. Who would have thought the noble Duke would walk straight into my arms?"
Bedros grimaced and said nothing.
If he managed to survive this, Nerek and Kohar were going to mother hen him to death, he just knew it. He'd be lucky if they let him leave his room before the spring thaw.
Of course, he'd be immensely grateful to survive to complain about it. He also needed to make himself sound a little less like an idiot when he recounted the tale of his capture. Wincing at just how easy it had been, he changed the subject of his thoughts.
"Do you really think you can outsmart Taniel?" Bedros asked. "My impression is that he was definitely the more talented half of your pair. Are you angry because he turned you in, or because without him you're nothing?"
The blow hurt, but Bedros endured it almost cheerfully.
"Guess that answer that," he said – then screamed, the world going hot and cold, red and white and black and then a flat gray.
"I do not need him," Vosgi said coldly. "If want to die quickly, rather than slowly, I suggest your grace learn to shut your pretty mouth."
He would have laughed, but at the moment just breathing hurt. Him keep his mouth shut. Oh, yes, that would happen – probably the same day he was invited back to the capital with full honors.
Gasping, struggling against the lingering spasms of pain thrumming through his body, Bedros slowly formed his question. "What is your ultimate purpose?" he asked. "What do you hope to gain by all of this? Banished from the monastery, likely running from the law…you've got nowhere to go."
"Oh, please," Vosgi said, clearly disgusted. "There are always men eager to acquire powerful mages, and as talented as I am, I can name my price and have it eagerly paid. If not for the fact that Taniel deserves to be punished, I would already be across the border and negotiating my way to what I want."
If he hadn't already had a headache, and a great deal more pain besides, listening to the idiot would have given him one. He sounded far too much like a mage equivalent of the friend Bedros had always thought he'd known.
He didn't understand why some with power turned out like his Majesty and Vosgi, and others turned out like Kohar and Taniel.
The real problem was figuring out how he was going to stay alive.
Vosgi turned away to poke at the fire some more, finally shrugging off a pack on his back, pulling out things that made no sense to Bedros.
Despite himself, he felt his eyes growing heavy. Between the pain, the smoke, and the heat, he simply could not must the energy to…
A strange, cold awareness abruptly ran down his spine. Like snow slipping beneath his clothes to melt against his skin, but sharper and...somehow more…intimate.
It was definitely magic, though the few spells he'd had cast on him had never felt like this one. He watched Vosgi, but the man gave no indication that he knew someone had just cast a spell on his captive.
Interesting.
He was reminded yet again that Taniel had said he was the better mage between them; perhaps this was evidence of it. Which meant the smartest thing for him to do was to avoid angering Vosgi – a pity, because for all it hurt, it cheered him to anger someone who'd once held claim to Taniel's affections.
"How long have I been stuck here?" he asked.
"Two days," Vosgi replied. "Which just goes to show that Taniel is not half so talented as he liked to think."
Bedros kept his mouth shut on that point, but only just. Two days. Ouch. They were going to tie him to his bed, and not for pleasurable reasons, either.
Hmm. Taniel tied to his bed. Now that was a pretty image.
Tucking the deliciously distracting idea away to contemplate at a more appropriate time, he focused on his captor, hoping and praying that Taniel and the others found him soon.
"I'm not certain why you want me," he said. "I'm no one special; it's not like my death would personally affect him – he'd feel as guilty about my death as he would anyone else you killed. Personal would be killing his brother, which I guess is what you wanted with the demons."
"I'll get to the brother," Vosgi snarled. "As cozy as he was walking with you, I'm sure it's a little bit personal. I've yet to meet a noble who would trouble to resist bedding anything pretty and easy – and it was no effort getting that backstabbing cowardly wretch into my bed. I cannot see him turning down a handsome duke."
Bedros snarled and attempted to lunge, only growing angrier as he was painfully reminded that he was tied to the disgusting bed. "If Taniel doesn't do it, I will kill you. I'll not tolerate slander of his good name."
Vosgi flashed a grin that was pure smug satisfaction. "Not a personal death, my grace? It sounds awfully personal to me. He did not waste his time finding a new bed to warm, did he?"
"It seems to me that you are the whore you are attempting to paint Taniel as," Bedros said, voice as chilly as his noble upbringing could make it. "A real mage does not have to fuck those more talented to gain their assistance."
He could see Vosgi vibrate with anger, but sadly there was no loss of temper. Instead Vosgi laughed, and started to speak – but the logs in the fire shifted, and suddenly the room began to fill with thick, black smoke.
Bedros' eyes stung, and he fought not to breath in more of it than he absolutely had to, hating the noxious, abrasive taste of it. Damn it to all the Nether Regions, if he was going to die, it would not be because this damned shack caught on fire.
Resisting an urge to ask Vosgi if he was too smart or too stupid to properly tend a fire, he struggled to get free of his bonds, noting sourly that Vosgi had lunged for his pack but not even looked at Bedros before fleeing.
Well, he was never going to live this one down. He wasn't going to live at all. Why couldn't mages be terrible at tying up their captives?
As suddenly as the smoke had appeared, it vanished, sucked up the chimney as though there had never been a problem.
The door creaked open, and a moment later Bedros' eyes cleared enough to see the man who bent to untie him. "Taniel."
"Your grace," Taniel said quietly, tucking away his knife as he finished cutting the ropes. "I cannot apologize enough…"
Bedros rubbed his wrists and carefully tested his legs, grimacing at the soreness. "He said I've been gone two days."
Taniel nodded. "Yes."
"Ugh." He wanted food, and to take a piss, and then he wanted to beat Vosgi's head in. Not necessarily in that order. In fact, he wanted Vosgi first on the list. "I'm going to wring that bastard's neck. Was anyone else harmed? Are the villagers all right?"
"The barkeep and a wench each took a good knock to the head, but otherwise no one was harmed. Only you."
Bedros snorted. "I assure you, I've been in worse situations. So far as kidnappings go, this is nothing."
Taniel's brows went up at that, but before he could ask the obvious question, the door slammed open to admit the towering form of Nerek.
He looked at Bedros. "You. Dead."
"Thankfully not," Bedros said, grasping Taniel and moving him a bit more to the right, so that there was a barrier between himself and Nerek. "What has been done with Vosgi?"
"Dead," Taniel said. "He walked right into our trap, the idiot."
"What trap?"
Kohar answered the question, stepping into the room and joining Nerek in glaring angrily at Bedros. "An old prank Tan and I used to pull on damned near everyone. A modification of a hunter's trap, but with magic – back in the day, we just used it to do harmless things. Alter hair color, change a person's voice, things like that. It adapts well to…deadlier magic."
"I am sorry that you had to resort to it on my behalf, but I am grateful to have been rescued. Now, I would love dearly to go home."
"Oh, we're going home," Nerek said in a tone of voice usually reserved for recalcitrant soldiers. "Then you're getting locked in your room and I'm misplacing the key for a very long time."
Bedros rolled his eyes. "I am the Duke, and I am forbidding locking me in my room."
"Tying you up is obviously not hard to do," Kohar said tartly. "Stay put or we will force the issue."
Heaving a sigh, Bedros held his hands up in defeat. "I'm more than happy to stay in my room for the next day or so to rest, and we'll renegotiate the terms of my confinement after that."
Ignoring the three expressions – since when had Taniel sided with them against him? – that said his indefinite confinement was nonnegotiable, Bedros moved toward the door.
And nearly succeeded only in falling flat on his face. Making a face, he tried again, legs a bit more steady this time around. "I really hate being kidnapped."
No one said anything until they were on their horses and riding away from the shack, and Bedros did not linger long to look at the corpse being handled by the soldiers Nerek appointed to the task.
"You've been kidnapped before?" Taniel finally asked.
"Twice before," Bedros replied. "Once when I was seven, again when I was fifteen. The dangers of being both the son of a Duke and the best friend of the crown prince. I fell out of favor years ago, however. I thought my kidnapping days were finally behind me." His mouth twisted in a smile of bitter amusement. "These days, I shouldn't have to worry about anything but the occasional assassin."
Nerek twisted in his saddle to glare.
"Would that be because the King is angry with you?" Taniel asked.
"Yes," Bedros said. "There was a man…growing up, we hated him. The King hates him still, and shortly after assuming the throne found a way to make this man a scapegoat in a political scandal. But a titled man is judged by his peers, and a majority must agree to execution. I refused to vote for it, and the King did not forgive me." He shrugged. "I had a chance to redeem myself, recently, by marrying the Countess, but could not go through with it. So, here I am, buried in a mountain, until he decides I'd be more useful dead."
"I'd like to see him try it," Nerek muttered.
Kohar nodded in agreement. "No one is killing you except us, your grace. We have to put up with you, we reserve the right to wring your neck."
Bedros blinked, then slowly smiled. "If you're reserving the right to kill me, then I don't see why you should continue to address me so formally."
They stared at him in surprise, then slowly Kohar nodded. "True enough…Bedros."
Nerek snorted. "If we are allowed to drop formality, then I am calling you Idiot."
Bedros laughed. "Let's go home, my friends."
Two days later, Bedros was ready to do some killing of his own. Or take up magic. Anything to relieve his boredom – but every time he tried to leave his room, all he got was glared at and threatened to the point it was less aggravating to simply stay in his room and rest as ordered.
"Who exactly is the lord of this manor?" he asked the fireplace.
The sound of the door opening all but made him jump out of his chair, and he nearly tripped over the small table beside it turning around.
Grimacing at himself, he finally focused on his visitor.
The scents of sweetmeats and spiced wine wafted through the room, but he had eyes only for Taniel. He looked like he'd come very recently from a bath, hair still damp, gleaming in the firelight. Rather than his usual monk robes, he wore leggings and a long tunic, both black, completely unmarked. It was as severe as his robes…but somehow completely different. It lent him an air the robes had not.
He strove to ignore that air screamed 'approachable' because it most certainly did not – wholly ignoring the fact that he was Kohar's brother, Taniel was probably leaving soon. With the problem of Vosgi resolved, he was free to return to his monastery and studies.
Bedros didn't think he should be as depressed by that thought as he was, but there was no help for it. The three weeks he'd spent at the castle, Taniel had seemed to fit well, and their one nightly walk had seemed to hint at a…connection, wholly separate of animal lust, that he would have liked to follow.
"I'm amazed they let you in here," he said, striving for levity.
Taniel smiled and moved slowly across the room, setting the tray on the table Bedros had nearly knocked over. "I might have snuck up here. You looked so miserable the last time you attempted to make a break for it, I thought you might like some company."
"Yes," Bedros said. He bit back an urge to suggest ways to pass the time, instead moving to pull another chair close. "I am extremely grateful. Please, sit." He dropped into his own seat, and attempted to think proper thoughts.
Laughing softly, Taniel sat and poured him wine. "Your grace is far too kind. You seem to have forgotten that if not for me, none of this would have happened. Men have died, and you very nearly died, because…"
"It wasn't your fault," Bedros said firmly. "No more than the actions of my old friend are my fault. He didn't have to exile me here, but he did. It’s not my fault." He shrugged. "No one here blames you." He smiled weakly. "I'm sure your brothers at the monastery would agree with me. When will you be leaving to rejoin them."
Something flickered across Taniel's face, equal parts pain and humiliation and plain old-fashioned misery.
Bedros blinked slowly. "You…are not going back, are you?"
"Though I never meant to, I did for some time help with some of the illegal spells with which Vosgi experimented. I could not turn him in without revealing my own part in all of it – and the fact we were lovers only made matters worse." He grimaced. "Did you figure that out, or did Vosgi bring it up to call me a slut?"
"Kohar figured it out," Bedros said blandly. "So they kicked you out?"
"Yes," Taniel said. "I am lucky, and grateful, that was all they did."
"You haven't told your brother."
"It is no one's problem but mine," Taniel said. "I did not intend for you to know."
Bedros narrowed his eyes. "You came to say goodbye," he said. "You were going to leave tonight."
Taniel glared at him. "Stop figuring everything out."
"No," Bedros said, grinning despite his displeasure. "You're not leaving. Why are you trying to leave? Do you dislike it here?" He scowled. "Has someone made you feel unwelcome? I may be locked up by those two hens, but I'm still lord of this castle. If anyone is—"
"No," Taniel cut in. "Your castle is beautiful, I've enjoyed myself immensely, despite the problem of Vosgi." He hesitated, then stayed silent, looking at his hands in his lap.
"Why do you want to leave? You are more than welcome to remain here with us."
Taniel shook his head. "No, your grace." His eyes blazed as he looked up. "I did not come up here to beg a home from you."
Bedros looked at him, slowly setting aside his wine. "Then why? Just to say goodbye?"
"I was just going to leave, though my brother would have likely sent a curse after me, but…" He shrugged. "I did not want to leave without seeing you one last time."
"You don't have to leave," Bedros said with a sigh. "You're hardly begging. Without you, I'd probably be dead – if not because of Vosgi, then because of Nerek and Kohar." He bit back saying that he didn't want Taniel to go, not for a very long time, if ever. He liked the idea of a permanent arrangement. "There's plenty of work to do here, and Kohar never spends all the money I allot to magic expenditures." He shut up, before he started sounding pathetic and desperate.
Taniel opened his mouth, then closed it again, sitting once more in silence. "You offer a great deal of temptation."
"Well, we're not a monastery," Bedros said, smiling despite himself. "The soldiers would rise up and kill me if I tried to forbid them…certain activities." He racked his brain for other persuasions. "I'm certain Kohar loves having his only remaining family close, as well as another mage. Nerek always approves of anyone who works hard…" He dared to wink. "And I still have not managed to steal away that beautiful hair."
"You are welcome to it, your grace," Taniel said, mouth curving in a faint, amused smile.
"I prefer it on your head, honestly," Bedros said before he could stop himself.
Taniel ducked his head, staring once more at his hands. "I wonder that I was ever allowed to be a monk, for all that I excel at magic. Vosgi was hardly my first lover during my years there, and our affair was rather nastily terminated only a couple of months ago…he died only two days ago…and yet I barely think of him."
"I see no point in paying any manner of respect to a man like that," Bedros said, thinking extremely disrespectful thoughts of the bastard. "He sounded like a man who knew how to get what he wanted, by whatever means, and is not worth thinking about, except perhaps to say good riddance."
"Very likely true, but my point was that even amidst all this, I have been horribly distracted by inappropriate thoughts about a man who is far above me in station…and selfish enough to want to bid you a very memorable farewell before I departed."
Bedros' breath caught in his chest, eyes snapping up to catch Taniel's. "You were flirting with me, that day you delivered my breakfast."
"You, uh, made quite the sight, your grace," Taniel replied. "I think even the strictest monk would have been hard pressed to maintain his celibacy presented with that view."
He had not flushed like a schoolboy since his first years of school, but Bedros felt his cheeks heat now. "I thought the room was empty," he muttered.
Taniel laughed.
Bedros coughed. "You don't have to leave. I am perfectly amenable to your keeping me company, and staying to keep me company for an extremely long time. If…if you are inclined. None of this above your station nonsense, either."
Hope and want flared in Taniel's eyes, but still he hesitated.
"Oh, by the Regions!" Bedros said on a sigh, and stood up. Crossing the small space between them, he yanked Talien to his feet and mashed their mouths together in a kiss that started out hard and clumsy, but soon eased into something hot and fierce and precisely what he needed.
What they both needed, and he was not at all opposed to being locked in his room for another day or three.
Especially since, if he left it, Kohar would kill him.
Home
Bedros stared broodingly at the rug before the fireplace, still lightly holding the letter which had come only a few hours ago.
It said only what he had expected to hear, had braced himself to read, but it cut deep all the same.
You are best suited to remain guarding the border. No other is nearly as capable as you in that duty.
Which translated as you've let me down for the last damn time, so stay there and rot until you die.
"To the Nether Regions with you, then," he muttered to the fireplace, but without any real heat. He had well and truly lost the battle, and it was all his own fault, and so he needed to quite brooding upon it.
He could not, however. All his choices had been made with good reason, but he seemed the only one capable of seeing that. The one thing which had not been his choice had been his exile to a forgotten corner of the kingdom to defend a border that didn't really need defending, except when the 'enemy' got bored enough to try crossing.
Realizing he'd unintentionally tightened his grip, he released his hold and smoothed out the costly vellum, rereading the words despite himself. The letter was perfectly polite, elegant and smooth…and cold as ice.
They had been friends, once. The very best. Then the King had died, and Godar had assumed the crown, and his best friend had turned into a complete stranger.
Sighing, Bedros finally set the letter aside, taking up his wine and downing the contents in one long swallow.
Most of the time, he didn't really mind his exile – for it was exile, no matter how the pretty letters tried to phrase – but on nights like this, he hated it. There were no friends to call upon, no one to call at his door, no dinners or hunts to which he was invited, no lovers to take to his bed.
Just his empty solar, the noises of the keep muffled and distant.
Oh, he had friends after a fashion, but even Nerek and Kohar were a bit removed – especially now that they'd finally come to their damned senses, and if they'd taken any longer about it he'd fully intended to knock their heads together.
If he'd agreed to that long ago execution, he'd still be back home. If he'd married that damned harridan, he could have returned home.
Almost. He'd almost been able to make himself go through with it. On paper, it had seemed so easy. Marry the woman, be a good, obedient peer of the realm, and he could go back to the life he'd been forced to leave behind. He'd go back to respectability, popularity, back to being someone.
But he couldn't do it, wouldn't do it. He'd given up everything to stand by his decision, and he was not capable of undermining that by going back on his word and actions by marrying the damn Countess.
Never mind she'd been a scheming, gold-hungry harridan anyway. There'd been a few women in his bed over the years, though precious few, and all the damned Countess had managed was to remind him why he generally preferred men.
Sighing, he considered calling for more wine, but decided against it. If he gave in to the urge, he'd wind up regretting it come morning, cause he seriously doubted he'd have the sense to stop.
Instead, he set aside his empty cup and strode the door that led the chapel. Technically, it led to the little balcony overlooking the castle's chapel. The balcony was reserved exclusively for the lord of the keep, technically, but Bedros did not bother to stand much on ceremony.
Regions, he didn't think anyone bothered to use the chapel, minus the odd solider here and there after he'd crossed Nerek.
Until Taniel had arrived, anyway.
At such a late hour, Bedros had expected to find the chapel empty. It wasn't.
Instead he was treated to the lovely sight of Taniel bent over in prayer, displaying his comely back, and all that beautiful, golden hair. He didn't know much about monks, but it seemed odd that one of them would have so much hair. Surely it was distracting, or something.
Where had he come from, to have hair the color of sunshine? His knowledge of foreign lands was murky at best, but he thought he would have remembered a place that boasted people with such beautiful hair.
Beautiful anything else. He was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a pious man – but since the arrival of Taniel he had thought more and more about religion.
Well, he'd been thinking about Taniel in the chapel and what exactly they could do with all those lovely surfaces. That was about as close to religion as he would ever get.
He stood still and quiet as he watched and listened to Taniel pray, loathe to disturb him. A month had passed since Taniel's arrival, the attack brought to his castle by damnable Siran. Nothing further had come to pass, but Taniel did not think it was over.
Bedros just hoped no one else died because of a stupid feud between monks.
It should be harder to believe that a monk would act in such cruel fashion, but he knew all too well how deceptive appearances could be. Back home, at least, religion was just a different angle from which to play the game of politics.
He wondered how Taniel had gotten tangled up in it all. Like his brother, he seemed far more interested in magic than anything else around him – and he'd always thought Kohar obsessed. Taniel's knowledge and magical ability gave new meaning to the word.
Regions, according to Kohar, his brother did not even need a rune monocle. Bedros still could not wrap his mind around that.
Below in the chapel, Taniel stirred from his prayers, breaking into Bedros' aimless thoughts. He stepped back as Taniel stood, not wanting to be caught intruding on what was likely a private matter.
But Taniel almost immediately looked up, a smile on his pretty face. Where Kohar always looked so severe, despite his beauty, Taniel had a…gentleness about him. It made Bedros want to smile and touch him, no matter how foul his mood, and after the letter, it was quite foul.
"Your grace is up late," Taniel said. "Are you unable to sleep?"
"I received a late night missive," Bedros replied, surprising himself. "It has ruined me for sleep, I'm afraid. What of you, monk? Is it common for you to be up at so late an hour?"
Taniel smiled. "I've always been something of a night owl, your grace. Morning prayers are an agony, and I often was punished for sleeping straight through them, but I always attended the evening and nightly prayers. "
Bedros smiled, bracing his arms on the railing, leaning slightly over the edge. "Well, we have that much in common. I rise late because I seldom go to bed before morning."
That earned him a laugh, the sound echoing through the chapel, and Bedros felt his unhappiness melt away as easily as that. It would come back, but for the moment at least it could not compete with present company.
"Finished with your prayers, monk? What mischief are you intending to get into now?"
"Oh, I've had my fill of mischief, your grace," Taniel said, smiling fading slightly. "I thought perhaps a walk."
Bedros stirred at that. A walk, that sounded just the thing. "Would you care for company? Perhaps a walk would ease my own restlessness."
Taniel looked at him in surprise. "Not at all, your grace. I will meet you in the courtyard, if that is acceptable?"
"Most acceptable," Bedros replied, and with a smile vanished back into his room, where he quickly discarded his chamber clothes for sturdier outdoor wear, finishing off with high boots and a heavy cloak. The snow was only light upon the ground, but the air was still bitterly cold.
Out in the courtyard, Taniel waited patiently for him, nothing more than a shadow in his pitch black cloak, the deep hood drawn up over his head. Only the torches scattered about separated Taniel from the darkness.
It was a strange hour to take a walk, but Bedros had done far stranger things at far stranger hours. Anything, really, was better than sitting in his room for even a minute longer. Chased by the words of the hated letter, he increased his pace and joined Taniel. "Shall we?"
"I have not explored the land much, your grace. Which path should we take?"
"Hmm…" Bedros thought a moment, then led the way out and took a path that wandered toward the village a bit, but veered off a mile or so from it to lead into the more distant forest. Not that they would go that far – even he wasn't stupid enough to walk through a forest in the dark.
High above, a fat full moon lit up the sky, making the few clouds look as though they were made of shadow and spun silver.
Their breaths misted in the dark, boots crunching on the snow and ice and slush.
"So how long until your monastery misses you and demands your return?" Bedros asked, then realized how that sounded and added, "Not that you are not welcome here indefinitely. I think the presence of his brother has improved Kohar's mood at least threefold."
"I think his improved mood has less to do with my presence and more to do with having the captain in his bed," Taniel replied dryly.
Bedros chuckled. "Perhaps. I was beginning to think they would never figure it out."
"Kohar was always more than a little oblivious when it came to the obvious," Taniel replied with the strange glee that all siblings seemed to display when ratting each other out.
He wondered idly if being oblivious to sexual interest was a trait which ran in the family, or if Taniel was just used to ignoring it.
"So where do you come from, originally, if you do not mind my asking. I was just thinking earlier that my knowledge of foreign lands is woefully lacking, for I cannot place you."
Taniel laughed weakly in the dark, a grimace just barely visible on his face. "To be honest, your grace, I do not know. I never did. Kohar's parents found me on their travels around the kingdom. I was quite young, only three or so. They said they found me wandering the streets, and that I seemed to have been drugged. It was their surmise that I had been kidnapped to be sold off to one of the many, uh, houses in the city. Their best guess was that I somehow escaped, though probably by sheer accident." He shrugged, the movement barely visible. "They took me in, and wound up keeping me."
Anger stirred at the idea that anyone could and would kidnap a helpless child and sell him off for sexual depravity. "I'm glad they saved you from that life," he said quietly. "So how did you become a monk?"
"I started off the same as Kohar, following eagerly in his footsteps – I was always closer to Kohar than anyone else – but as I progressed, I became a bit more interested in the more arcane magics. Once our sister and parents died…" He shrugged. "I chose to follow my arcane interests, and the only ones allowed to study magic at that level are the monks."
Bedros nodded, smiling in the moonlight as they reached the split in the road, turning down the path that would eventually lead to the forest.
He felt Taniel hesitate.
"If you want to ask me something, by all means. Gods know I've been nosy enough."
Taniel laughed. "Given that the demons were entirely my fault, your grace, you have been far more than kind and considerate. No one would have taken it amiss if you had ordered me locked up and severely punished. If you want to ask a few harmless questions, by all means."
"I am more curious as to what question you are hesitating to ask me," Bedros replied.
"My brother has always spoken highly of you in his letters, your grace. We get visitors often in the monastery, people looking for further information on this or that spell, seeking our services in casting spells…others come to recuperate, or simply to get away from city life. The life of a monk is not really a quiet one, in the end. Before I left, the halls were filled with filled with gossip of you. Next to my brothers praise, I could not countenance any of it, but I was curious as to what had given rise to such malicious talk."
Bedros grimaced in the dark, and nearly turned around to stalk back to the castle. "I angered a King," he said finally. "Then I angered a woman."
"Well, that wasn't very smart of you," Taniel said, gentle laughter in his voice. "That certainly explains much of what I was hearing, your grace. Thank you for indulging my rude curiosity."
"At least you ask, rather than assume," Bedros said.
"Assumptions are a foolish thing to make where magic is concerned," Taniel said. "That aside, people liked to make assumptions about me. Half the world thinks I am my father's bastard child, the other half thinks my mother had an affair. No one wanted to believe the simple truth – that they found me, and wound up caring enough about me to go to the trouble of adoption."
Bedros nodded in sympathy. People loved to make assumptions, especially when the truth was too boring to be tolerated. "It certainly does—"
His words were cut off as he was abruptly shoved down, landing face first in a snow drift. He struggled to sit up, even as Taniel held him down, hissing at him not to move.
Then he heard words of magic, and abruptly stilled. If there was one thing he knew, it was not to argue with a mage casting spells.
A couple of minutes later Taniel fell silent, and a far more gentle touch to his shoulder indicated that Bedros could sit up.
He did so, shivering at the snow which had slipped beneath his collar, numbed his face where he'd been shoved into it. "What was that all about?"
"Someone was scrying for me," Taniel said. He snorted. "Someone. Bah! Vosgi is scrying for me, likely to see what I am up to now, and how he can use it to hurt me." He laughed, the sound bitter and weary, all the more awful for coming from someone who had struck Bedros as generally happy in demeanor. "The first betrayal was his, but he likes to forget that part and focus only on the fact that I turned him in." He sighed. "Come, your grace. We should return lest he attempts to cast another scrying. If he saw you, then he will know I'm here, and I do not want to bring still more trouble to your castle."
Bedros brushed snow from his clothes and righted his twisted up cloak. "Scrying?"
"Yes," Taniel said, and Bedros was relieved to hear the negativity leave his tone and manner. "The art of seeing that which is far away. Vosgi is very good at scrying." He laughed softly. "I am better, but he is very good."
"I see modesty is a trait not inflicted upon anyone in your family, but I guess you're both too talented and beautiful to waste time with modesty."
Taniel made a weird, choked sort of sound that Bedros could not puzzle out.
Putting it aside to figure out later, he switched back to the scrying. "How does scrying work?"
"It's fairly simple in appearance and explanation, but rather tricky in execution," Taniel replied, and explained the process to him as they made their way quickly back to the castle.
Bedros shook his head in wonder. "I am amazed. You make it sound so simple, yet I know precious few mages would be capable of it. Even your brother, I think, would have trouble with something like scrying?"
Taniel shrugged. "I'm sure he could learn it if he wanted – Kohar never wanted to go quite that far." He sighed as they reached the castle, passing through the gates. "There, within the castle walls no scrying spell can reach us. I made certain of that when I helped Kohar rebuild the wards."
"I am grateful for your help," Bedros replied.
"I am the reason you had to rebuild them," Taniel said.
They both paused as the main door to the barracks flew open. "Duke," Nerek bellowed. "What in the Regions are you doing walking about like that? Do not make me beat you the way I have to beat my soldiers."
"Peace, Captain," Bedros said, holding up his hands in defeat. "I was quite safe, and I'm never really in danger here anyway."
Much to the disappointment of the King, whom he knew had hoped that Bedros would get himself killed defending the border.
Bedros was more than happy to keep defying the bastard, even if he seemed to be suffering more than the King over it.
Nerek glared, unappeased.
Bedros yawned. "Go back to your mage, Captain, and I will cart myself obediently to my bed."
Taniel chuckled. "I will see his grace gets to his room, Captain. Its my fault entirely, for inviting him to walk with me."
Nerek nodded, glaring after them, and Bedros thought he caught a bit of muttering about mages and causing trouble.
Beside him, Taniel snickered, shooting Bedros a sideways glance of victory in shared mischief.
Bedros smiled, and could not remember a night when he had smile so genuinely, so often. "I hope I do not get you in trouble with your brother in the morning, my good monk. I thank you for the company, it made the long night an enjoyable one."
"You returned the favor, your grace, I assure you," Taniel replied, and swept him a graceful bow, hair tumbling free where it had been trapped in his hood, brilliant gold.
His finger twitched with an urge to touch, to drag Taniel close and see what else Taniel could do to make the night pleasant…and he really could not blame Nerek one bit for constantly stealing and hiding Kohar's combs. For all they did not actually share blood, the two mages were definitely brothers.
He backed away, murmuring his good nights, and closed the door to his solar before he did something stupid. The very last thing he needed to do was antagonize the closest thing he had to friends, now, and bedding the monk brother of his mage definitely counted as antagonizing.
Stifling a sigh, he stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside, then pushed back his bed curtains enough to slip inside. The huge bed was one of the few things he had insisted upon dismantling and taking with him on the laborious trek across country and up the mountains.
The men he'd hired to do it had hated him the entire journey, but they'd been plenty mollified with their payment. And he had his bed, wide and long and roomy, soft and so very easy to sink into – and hard to climb out of every morning.
Well, it had been hard to leave, once. These days, the empty bed more than anything else reinforced his loneliness.
Yawning, he tugged up the soft, warm blankets, settling into the ticking and thinking pleasant thoughts about gold-haired monks until he finally fell asleep.
When he woke again, it was to the clattering and fussing of one of the maids setting out his breakfast – or possibly lunch, to judge by the bits of sunlight peeking through the bed curtains.
He waited until the noise had quieted before finally pushing back the curtains and sliding out. The one and only time he'd unthinkingly stepped out naked while she was still the room, he'd gotten looks and whispers and giggles for two weeks.
Except the maid hadn't departed, and it wasn't actually the maid who had brought his food. Staring a moment, horribly confused as to why Taniel was standing in his room.
Then he remembered he was naked.
Turning hastily away, he fumbled for the morning robe flung over a nearby chair.
"Good morning, your grace," Taniel said, coughing, and when Bedros finally turned back he saw Taniel's cheeks were flushed a becoming shade of pink.
But while he was definitely embarrassed, that wasn't the only thing in his eyes.
Interesting. The monk was not perhaps as innocent as he'd always seemed.
He was also Kohar's brother, Bedros reminded himself.
"Good morning, monk," he said congenially. "Did you take over the duty of delivering the spoiled Duke's breakfast?"
Taniel laughed. "Only for today, your grace." His levity faded. "I went to the kitchens to find breakfast, and they were missing a few maids to illness. I investigated briefly, and it seems to be just a case of them eating bad food…" He shrugged. "I will investigate further to assure myself I am only being paranoid, but I thought you should know." His lips twitched. "Next time, I will knock more loudly."
"Yes, please," Bedros said, grinning. "The last thing I need is Kohar cursing me for taking liberties with his little brother."
"It's none of his business who takes liberties with me," Taniel said, rolling his eyes.
Bedros fought not to show his surprise. Had Taniel just indicated…
"Not that I would dare suggest your grace would take liberties with a lowly monk," Taniel added. "That would be highly inappropriate in many ways." He sketched another of his elegant bows, hair brilliant in the sunlight pouring through the windows, then turned and let himself out.
He continued to stare after Taniel had gone, breakfast forgotten.
Surely not. Eventually, Taniel would go back to his temple. Studying esoteric magic was far more interesting than staying holed up in a corner of the world even the gods had forgotten. There was no way in all the Regions that Taniel had just hinted he would not mind a few liberties being taken.
Grimacing, for he was obviously thinking with the wrong portion of his anatomy, Bedros called for a bath and then set to decimating his breakfast.
"What's this about my maids getting sick?" he asked when a couple of men appeared to set up his bath and begin hauling in the water.
One of them paused. "Ate some bad berries, your grace. Master Kohar and his brother are looking into it, and Nerek went off to find the berries and destroy whatever remains."
Bedros smiled briefly. As efficient as his Captain and mage were, his own presence often seemed entirely superfluous. "Well, when the berries are found, bring a few to me. I'd like to see if I can match them to some of my flora books."
"Yes, your grace. I'll pass the instructions on." Bowing, the men vanished to begin fetching the water.
Two hours later Bedros ventured downstairs to find his grand hall in a state of mild chaos. Everything paused for a moment as they realized who now stood in the doorway, but a moment later Kohar's voice cracked out, and everyone scrambled back to work.
"What in the world is going on?" Bedros demanded. "If something is wrong, why was it not brought to my attention sooner?" Was he really that unnecessary? He shoved the depressing thought aside.
"Your grace, at the moment we're not even certain what to tell you," Kohar said, frowning in annoyance. "We have seven servants and nine soldiers all severely sick. As near as we can tell, they all ate the same berries – but none of them stayed conscious long enough to tell us where they got the berries. It is the wrong time of years for them to have been picked."
Bedros frowned. "What did inquiries at the village turn up?"
"We haven't heard back yet," Nerek replied, then turned away sharply to bark at a couple of soldier loitering in the main doorway.
"Where is Taniel?" Bedros asked.
Kohar motioned toward the back of the castle. "Tending the sick, hoping to discover something we might have so far missed. I think he is not being paranoid in saying this is what his fellow is trying in lieu of succubi." He rubbed his forehead. "I really wish this bastard would just go the old fashioned route of challenging Tan to a duel or something."
"I'd win a duel," Taniel said, coming up behind them, wiping his hands on a rag, looking angry. "He never could stand that I was always one step ahead of him – in everything. It's why…" He shook his head. "It's why he's using these underhanded methods. I wish my apologies were sufficient to express my shame and dismay that you are all being harmed because he hates me."
Bedros reached out without thinking, cupping Taniel's cheek briefly, before drawing slowly away and tugging briefly at one gold strand. "It's not your fault. You're not responsible for his actions."
Taniel nodded, but did not look convinced. "We have to figure out what is up with these berries. It makes no sense that we cannot locate them, and examining the sick has not lent me further clues. If there is magic here, it is solely within the berries…" He sighed and pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples. "I need my supplies, but they were at least two weeks behind me. Assuming nothing went wrong, they may still not be here for days."
"Supplies?" Kohar asked.
"Yes," Taniel replied. "When I left the monastery, I took my equipment and personal copies of manuscripts with me."
Kohar frowned.
Bedros agreed. "That is permitted?"
"Ordinarily, no," Taniel said quietly. "However, I was never an ordinary monk, and the circumstances of my leaving were…" He shrugged. "Unlike the other monks, I purchased everything I own. The money I donated upon joining the monastery was extremely generous.
At this, Kohar snorted with laughter. "Your donation could have built a house or two."
"I guess I'd let you keep what you wanted, as well," Bedros said, shaking his head in wonder at such a ridiculous handling of money. What did a bunch of monks need with such great sums? There were wiser ways to spend it, surely.
"That does not explain the manuscripts," Kohar said, frown deepening when his brother only shook his head and refuse to answer.
Taniel ignored the look. "I am going into the village myself. Someone must know something, whether he is aware of it or not."
"I do not see why the berry itself matters so much," Bedros replied. "Isn't it more important to treat the illness, rather than focus exclusively on the source?"
"Hidden dangers," Taniel said, speaking before his brother could. "We need the berries to learn the exact nature of the spell being laid down – or if it’s a spell at all, since we have no proof of that save our own suppositions."
Kohar nodded. "If it is a spell, and we don't understand it's intended purpose exactly, we risk killing the victims with a cure."
Taniel bit his lip. "I really wish I had my supplies, then it would be a simple matter to figure this out."
"I guess I do not have what you would need," Kohar said with a sigh.
"No," Taniel said. "In such high level magic, the equipment is unique to the mage. If I am to cast the proper spells – and I need the books for those, anyway, for I don't have every last spell memorized – then it must be my equipment."
Kohar made a face. "I knew there was a reason I stopped at the levels I did. Too much trouble past that."
Taniel smiled briefly, but there was very little humor in it.
"So where are these supplies?" Nerek asked, coming up to join them.
"As I said, they were a couple of weeks behind me, since I was forced to leave the wagon when the weather grew worse, and it did not let up enough for about two weeks. They could come this very day, they may not come for several days yet. It's impossible to say."
"What would we be looking for?" Nerek asked.
"A wagon with chipped and faded blue paint," Taniel said, frowning in confusion. "Carrying three crates, all of them sealed shut with my own personal runes. Led by a team of two horses, guided by three men we hired in the village a couple of days out from the monastery."
Nerek put fingers to his mouth and whistled sharply, the sound painfully sharp in the confines of the hall.
Immediately three men appeared, one officer and two foot soldiers. They stood sharply at attention as Nerek gave them orders, then vanished as quickly as they had come.
"They will find your wagon," Nerek said, "and either bring the contents back here with all due haste, or tell us how much longer we must wait."
Taniel nodded. "Thank you. I am going into the village."
"I'll go with you," Kohar said.
"No," Taniel said. "It would be better to have mages in two places, and you obviously know the castle far better than I." Another faint smile. "I'll be fine, big brother, so stop fretting."
Kohar glowered. "I'm not fretting."
Taniel snickered, then with a wave left the hall.
"He's keeping something back," Kohar said, glaring after his brother. "There is something about all this he is not telling me, and if he doesn't hurry up and confess it, I'm going to beat him."
Bedros quirked a brow. "What could he possibly be hiding? The matter seems fairly straight forward."
Kohar shook his head. "I don't know…except…would you go to this much trouble over an angry coworker who had reported you?"
"An interesting questions," Bedros said quietly, sighing softly. "I think power changes men, and men drunk on power will go to any length when annihilating a threat, no matter if that threat is friend, enemy, or complete stranger."
"If it were just this illness, I would agree," Kohar said. "But the berries did not come first."
Both of Bedros' brows went up as comprehension dawned. "The succubi and incubi were the first attack. You think…this is a lot more personal than simply one monk turning in another as breaking laws."
"I think my brother is a healthy young man, who never really took seriously that monks should abstain from certain pleasures in life." Kohar said wryly. "I think if it was as simple as turning in a bad monk, he would not be this miserable. If you will excuse me, I am going to hunt him down and beat the truth out of him."
"No," Bedros said, shaking his head. "He was correct, in that it's better to have a mage here at all times. Let me speak with him – and the villagers all love me anyway, right?" He winked, because the villagers were fascinated by him, the odd, outspoken noble stuck in their midst.
Kohar gave him a withering look. "You lack subtlety, your grace. All this time in the country is ruining your abilities in that respect."
Bedros frowned, confused. "What?"
Nerek snickered and pulled Kohar away from Bedros. "He means, your intentions had better be honorable, your grace, or else."
"Intentions…I was not thinking about seducing your brother!" Bedros said, because he hadn't. At this moment.
Some of his guilt must have shown on his face, for Kohar rolled his eyes. "See that you both return in one piece, because if you manage to injure yourself, I will let Nerek lock you up as he wishes." With that, he turned and stalked from the hall, glaring at anyone who seemed even remotely close to getting in his way.
"I'll send guards with you," Nerek said, tearing his eyes away from the retreating Kohar. "You should not venture about without protection, your grace."
Bedros waved the notion away. "Please, I think the entire point of this was that I be left unguarded."
"Your grace?" Nerek asked, frowning in confusion.
"Nothing," Bedros said, sighing. "Forget I spoke. Make certain no one eats anything which does not first pass Kohar's approval. Destroy all berries on the premises, if you have not already done so. We'll be back in a few hours. If we're not back by nightfall, send some soldiers to locate us."
Nerek made a face, but relented. "As you wish, your grace. But we had better not find you in the tavern, or in a room above it."
"I am not going to have my wicked way with the brother of a friend," Bedros snapped, angry and annoyed – and guilt ridden, which just annoyed him more. Not waiting for a response, ignoring Nerek's taken aback look, he stomped out of the hall and crossed the courtyard to the stables, where his horse was ready and waiting.
Mounting, he rode out and made his way as quickly as was safe on the treacherous snowy ground.
He never caught up with Taniel, which confused him. He'd not been that far behind, and he'd been riding quickly – how fast had Taniel been riding?
Perhaps he hadn't trusted Kohar to actually stay put, and had not wanted to endure his brother's questions.
Bedros supposed he wouldn't either, in Taniel's place. Had Taniel and…he groped for the name Taniel had used the night before. V..v…ah, Vosgi. That was it. Had Taniel and Vosgi been lovers? That would certainly account for the succubus and incubus, which had always seemed extremely personal.
So he had not been entirely crazy, earlier this morning in his solar – Taniel had been flirting with him. But that was even more puzzling, if he was so recently broke from a lover who was upset enough to kill people just to hurt Taniel.
Bedros shook his head, sighing in sympathy. The current King had once been his best friend, and that friend had exiled him for daring to disagree with his King – and refusing to budge on the matter. He was grateful they had never wanted to turn from friends to lovers; likely he would have been beheaded or banished from the country altogether.
He reached the village a few minutes later, and dismounted, handing his horse off to a boy who rushed up eager for the coin he knew Bedros would hand over for tending his horse.
Smiling faintly, handing over the desired coin, Bedros left the horse and boy and ventured further into the village. Small but tidy, a far cry from the bustling city in which he'd grown up – but not bad at all, really. Certainly this little forgotten stretch of land high in the mountains had no need of a city proper. Nor did he have to guard every word, every action. No, here he was liked and trusted.
It was not so bad a thing to be, really.
He still saw no sign of Taniel.
Stopping a woman walking with a basket of carefully wrapped bundles, he inquired after Taniel.
"I saw him briefly, your grace. He went off towards the other end of the village, following that foolish butcher boy."
"Ah," Bedros said, smiling faintly. Well, that was not so bad. At least he was about. He'd run across Taniel at some point as they both questioned the villagers.
Continuing on his way, stopping to ask the various persons crossing his path, he slowly wended his way to the local inn and tavern.
It was mostly empty, most people probably not willing to venture from home when the weather could turn unpleasant in a moment.
One face he did not recognize, a man sitting at a table near the fire, quietly but cheerfully enjoying a simple meal of stew, bread, and cheese.
Ignoring him, Bedros moved to the bar and motioned to the barkeep, nodding his head at the stranger, whose back was now to them.
"Tinker, your grace," the barkeep replied. "Bit of a healer, too. He's been helping the village quite a bit, especially since Jortan broke his leg."
Bedros nodded, and ordered a cider, then moved to the tinker's table. "Mind a bit of company, good stranger?"
"Not at all," the man said pleasantly, displaying neat teeth set in a handsome face.
A very handsome face, beneath the dirt and grime of living in a hard land during the roughest season of the year. Cleaned up, he would be extremely easy on the eyes. "Your face I do not know, but I think I can take a guess," the man said, grinning. "The hair and the eyes, and I know a noble's demeanor when I see it. You must be his grace, the Duke of Rehm."
Bedros lifted his cider in acknowledgement. "Guilty, I'm afraid. You are?"
"Most folks call me Gee." He smiled, motioning absently in the air with his spoon.
No. Not absently. There was something…strange about the movements…
It was only as he slumped over that he realized it was exactly the way Kohar moved when he was casting spells.
When he woke up, it was to a throbbing head and the realization that he was not in the tavern.
Looking around, he realized he had no idea where he was.
Nerek was probably birthing kittens right now. The thought almost made him smile, but his head hurt too much for that, and the situation was a bit too grim.
A shack of some sort, from the looks of it. There was a small fire in a hearth so rundown his eye stung from the thin trails of smoke that did not quite make it up the chimney. Coughing, wincing at how much worse that made his poor head, he attempted to sit up and only then realized he'd been bound to a bed that looked filthy enough he preferred not to think about what might be infesting it.
The sound of movement brought his head up, and he watched as the door was flung open and someone stepped inside.
"I'm going to guess that you used to be a monk," he said.
Gee – Vosgi, he supposed – grinned. It was rather like the way a snake might smile before it struck. "Very clever, my lord. I'm certain Tan must be in quiet the frenzy by now, knowing I've got you and was right beneath his nose this entire time."
"You weren’t here when the demons attacked," Bedros said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have bothered using Siran."
"No, I only arrived recently. I'd intended to be here when dear Tan arrived to see all the people he was responsible for killing, including his darling brother – but it would seem my merc ran off before he ensured the deed was truly done. So, I am taking it upon myself. You are not the brother, but I think you will suffice. Dear Tan will not like having a dead Duke on his conscience."
Bedros looked at him in disgust. "Don't you think this going a bit too far? I think we all have a former lover or two whom we would love to throttle, but killing everyone around him is excessive."
"Oh, did he admit that little bit?" Vosgi laughed. "Did he bother to mention we were much more than lovers?"
"More than lovers?"
"Yes," Vosgi replied. "We were perfectly attuned magically; dual casters. We could have easily been the most powerful mages in the kingdom, but he turned into a coward."
Dual casters. Bedros did not know much about magic, but he knew what that meant – mages whose energies were so similar, they could borrow from each other and work together on a level that eluded most. It was not terribly rare, but uncommon enough to be remarkable.
"Attuned magically, maybe, but obviously Taniel has more sense than you," he replied. "Certain magic is forbidden for a reason."
Vosgi scoffed. Cleaned up, he really was a handsome man. There was a passion in him, too, though obviously corrupted. He could easily see where Taniel would be attracted to him, especially if the bastard turned on the charm he'd only hinted at in the tavern.
"I would expect such cowardly words to come from a man with so weak a stomach he would rather spare an enemy than agree to his execution."
Familiar anger curled in Bedros' stomach, hot and sharp. "It had nothing to do with cowardice," he snarled. "I did not like the man, but I was not going to see him hanged as a scapegoat. If that makes me a coward, so be it. If I did not care what my King thought, then I certainly think your opinion can go to the Regions."
Chuckling, obviously satisfied with something, Vosgi moved to stoke the fire.
"So are you going to kill me and leave my corpse for your ex to find?"
He really didn't like thinking of Taniel as ever having fucked this man, never mind maybe possibly having been in love with him. The thought made him sick. It also made him want to punch the bastard in the face.
"I haven't quite decided what to do with you yet, your grace," Vosgi replied. "Suffice to say that if I had decided to kill you, your body would already by lying upon the snow somewhere. No, taking you was a bit of an impulse. I had simply planned to poison the entire castle, one idiot at a time, and watch as they all slowly died. This is infinitely more satisfying. Who would have thought the noble Duke would walk straight into my arms?"
Bedros grimaced and said nothing.
If he managed to survive this, Nerek and Kohar were going to mother hen him to death, he just knew it. He'd be lucky if they let him leave his room before the spring thaw.
Of course, he'd be immensely grateful to survive to complain about it. He also needed to make himself sound a little less like an idiot when he recounted the tale of his capture. Wincing at just how easy it had been, he changed the subject of his thoughts.
"Do you really think you can outsmart Taniel?" Bedros asked. "My impression is that he was definitely the more talented half of your pair. Are you angry because he turned you in, or because without him you're nothing?"
The blow hurt, but Bedros endured it almost cheerfully.
"Guess that answer that," he said – then screamed, the world going hot and cold, red and white and black and then a flat gray.
"I do not need him," Vosgi said coldly. "If want to die quickly, rather than slowly, I suggest your grace learn to shut your pretty mouth."
He would have laughed, but at the moment just breathing hurt. Him keep his mouth shut. Oh, yes, that would happen – probably the same day he was invited back to the capital with full honors.
Gasping, struggling against the lingering spasms of pain thrumming through his body, Bedros slowly formed his question. "What is your ultimate purpose?" he asked. "What do you hope to gain by all of this? Banished from the monastery, likely running from the law…you've got nowhere to go."
"Oh, please," Vosgi said, clearly disgusted. "There are always men eager to acquire powerful mages, and as talented as I am, I can name my price and have it eagerly paid. If not for the fact that Taniel deserves to be punished, I would already be across the border and negotiating my way to what I want."
If he hadn't already had a headache, and a great deal more pain besides, listening to the idiot would have given him one. He sounded far too much like a mage equivalent of the friend Bedros had always thought he'd known.
He didn't understand why some with power turned out like his Majesty and Vosgi, and others turned out like Kohar and Taniel.
The real problem was figuring out how he was going to stay alive.
Vosgi turned away to poke at the fire some more, finally shrugging off a pack on his back, pulling out things that made no sense to Bedros.
Despite himself, he felt his eyes growing heavy. Between the pain, the smoke, and the heat, he simply could not must the energy to…
A strange, cold awareness abruptly ran down his spine. Like snow slipping beneath his clothes to melt against his skin, but sharper and...somehow more…intimate.
It was definitely magic, though the few spells he'd had cast on him had never felt like this one. He watched Vosgi, but the man gave no indication that he knew someone had just cast a spell on his captive.
Interesting.
He was reminded yet again that Taniel had said he was the better mage between them; perhaps this was evidence of it. Which meant the smartest thing for him to do was to avoid angering Vosgi – a pity, because for all it hurt, it cheered him to anger someone who'd once held claim to Taniel's affections.
"How long have I been stuck here?" he asked.
"Two days," Vosgi replied. "Which just goes to show that Taniel is not half so talented as he liked to think."
Bedros kept his mouth shut on that point, but only just. Two days. Ouch. They were going to tie him to his bed, and not for pleasurable reasons, either.
Hmm. Taniel tied to his bed. Now that was a pretty image.
Tucking the deliciously distracting idea away to contemplate at a more appropriate time, he focused on his captor, hoping and praying that Taniel and the others found him soon.
"I'm not certain why you want me," he said. "I'm no one special; it's not like my death would personally affect him – he'd feel as guilty about my death as he would anyone else you killed. Personal would be killing his brother, which I guess is what you wanted with the demons."
"I'll get to the brother," Vosgi snarled. "As cozy as he was walking with you, I'm sure it's a little bit personal. I've yet to meet a noble who would trouble to resist bedding anything pretty and easy – and it was no effort getting that backstabbing cowardly wretch into my bed. I cannot see him turning down a handsome duke."
Bedros snarled and attempted to lunge, only growing angrier as he was painfully reminded that he was tied to the disgusting bed. "If Taniel doesn't do it, I will kill you. I'll not tolerate slander of his good name."
Vosgi flashed a grin that was pure smug satisfaction. "Not a personal death, my grace? It sounds awfully personal to me. He did not waste his time finding a new bed to warm, did he?"
"It seems to me that you are the whore you are attempting to paint Taniel as," Bedros said, voice as chilly as his noble upbringing could make it. "A real mage does not have to fuck those more talented to gain their assistance."
He could see Vosgi vibrate with anger, but sadly there was no loss of temper. Instead Vosgi laughed, and started to speak – but the logs in the fire shifted, and suddenly the room began to fill with thick, black smoke.
Bedros' eyes stung, and he fought not to breath in more of it than he absolutely had to, hating the noxious, abrasive taste of it. Damn it to all the Nether Regions, if he was going to die, it would not be because this damned shack caught on fire.
Resisting an urge to ask Vosgi if he was too smart or too stupid to properly tend a fire, he struggled to get free of his bonds, noting sourly that Vosgi had lunged for his pack but not even looked at Bedros before fleeing.
Well, he was never going to live this one down. He wasn't going to live at all. Why couldn't mages be terrible at tying up their captives?
As suddenly as the smoke had appeared, it vanished, sucked up the chimney as though there had never been a problem.
The door creaked open, and a moment later Bedros' eyes cleared enough to see the man who bent to untie him. "Taniel."
"Your grace," Taniel said quietly, tucking away his knife as he finished cutting the ropes. "I cannot apologize enough…"
Bedros rubbed his wrists and carefully tested his legs, grimacing at the soreness. "He said I've been gone two days."
Taniel nodded. "Yes."
"Ugh." He wanted food, and to take a piss, and then he wanted to beat Vosgi's head in. Not necessarily in that order. In fact, he wanted Vosgi first on the list. "I'm going to wring that bastard's neck. Was anyone else harmed? Are the villagers all right?"
"The barkeep and a wench each took a good knock to the head, but otherwise no one was harmed. Only you."
Bedros snorted. "I assure you, I've been in worse situations. So far as kidnappings go, this is nothing."
Taniel's brows went up at that, but before he could ask the obvious question, the door slammed open to admit the towering form of Nerek.
He looked at Bedros. "You. Dead."
"Thankfully not," Bedros said, grasping Taniel and moving him a bit more to the right, so that there was a barrier between himself and Nerek. "What has been done with Vosgi?"
"Dead," Taniel said. "He walked right into our trap, the idiot."
"What trap?"
Kohar answered the question, stepping into the room and joining Nerek in glaring angrily at Bedros. "An old prank Tan and I used to pull on damned near everyone. A modification of a hunter's trap, but with magic – back in the day, we just used it to do harmless things. Alter hair color, change a person's voice, things like that. It adapts well to…deadlier magic."
"I am sorry that you had to resort to it on my behalf, but I am grateful to have been rescued. Now, I would love dearly to go home."
"Oh, we're going home," Nerek said in a tone of voice usually reserved for recalcitrant soldiers. "Then you're getting locked in your room and I'm misplacing the key for a very long time."
Bedros rolled his eyes. "I am the Duke, and I am forbidding locking me in my room."
"Tying you up is obviously not hard to do," Kohar said tartly. "Stay put or we will force the issue."
Heaving a sigh, Bedros held his hands up in defeat. "I'm more than happy to stay in my room for the next day or so to rest, and we'll renegotiate the terms of my confinement after that."
Ignoring the three expressions – since when had Taniel sided with them against him? – that said his indefinite confinement was nonnegotiable, Bedros moved toward the door.
And nearly succeeded only in falling flat on his face. Making a face, he tried again, legs a bit more steady this time around. "I really hate being kidnapped."
No one said anything until they were on their horses and riding away from the shack, and Bedros did not linger long to look at the corpse being handled by the soldiers Nerek appointed to the task.
"You've been kidnapped before?" Taniel finally asked.
"Twice before," Bedros replied. "Once when I was seven, again when I was fifteen. The dangers of being both the son of a Duke and the best friend of the crown prince. I fell out of favor years ago, however. I thought my kidnapping days were finally behind me." His mouth twisted in a smile of bitter amusement. "These days, I shouldn't have to worry about anything but the occasional assassin."
Nerek twisted in his saddle to glare.
"Would that be because the King is angry with you?" Taniel asked.
"Yes," Bedros said. "There was a man…growing up, we hated him. The King hates him still, and shortly after assuming the throne found a way to make this man a scapegoat in a political scandal. But a titled man is judged by his peers, and a majority must agree to execution. I refused to vote for it, and the King did not forgive me." He shrugged. "I had a chance to redeem myself, recently, by marrying the Countess, but could not go through with it. So, here I am, buried in a mountain, until he decides I'd be more useful dead."
"I'd like to see him try it," Nerek muttered.
Kohar nodded in agreement. "No one is killing you except us, your grace. We have to put up with you, we reserve the right to wring your neck."
Bedros blinked, then slowly smiled. "If you're reserving the right to kill me, then I don't see why you should continue to address me so formally."
They stared at him in surprise, then slowly Kohar nodded. "True enough…Bedros."
Nerek snorted. "If we are allowed to drop formality, then I am calling you Idiot."
Bedros laughed. "Let's go home, my friends."
Two days later, Bedros was ready to do some killing of his own. Or take up magic. Anything to relieve his boredom – but every time he tried to leave his room, all he got was glared at and threatened to the point it was less aggravating to simply stay in his room and rest as ordered.
"Who exactly is the lord of this manor?" he asked the fireplace.
The sound of the door opening all but made him jump out of his chair, and he nearly tripped over the small table beside it turning around.
Grimacing at himself, he finally focused on his visitor.
The scents of sweetmeats and spiced wine wafted through the room, but he had eyes only for Taniel. He looked like he'd come very recently from a bath, hair still damp, gleaming in the firelight. Rather than his usual monk robes, he wore leggings and a long tunic, both black, completely unmarked. It was as severe as his robes…but somehow completely different. It lent him an air the robes had not.
He strove to ignore that air screamed 'approachable' because it most certainly did not – wholly ignoring the fact that he was Kohar's brother, Taniel was probably leaving soon. With the problem of Vosgi resolved, he was free to return to his monastery and studies.
Bedros didn't think he should be as depressed by that thought as he was, but there was no help for it. The three weeks he'd spent at the castle, Taniel had seemed to fit well, and their one nightly walk had seemed to hint at a…connection, wholly separate of animal lust, that he would have liked to follow.
"I'm amazed they let you in here," he said, striving for levity.
Taniel smiled and moved slowly across the room, setting the tray on the table Bedros had nearly knocked over. "I might have snuck up here. You looked so miserable the last time you attempted to make a break for it, I thought you might like some company."
"Yes," Bedros said. He bit back an urge to suggest ways to pass the time, instead moving to pull another chair close. "I am extremely grateful. Please, sit." He dropped into his own seat, and attempted to think proper thoughts.
Laughing softly, Taniel sat and poured him wine. "Your grace is far too kind. You seem to have forgotten that if not for me, none of this would have happened. Men have died, and you very nearly died, because…"
"It wasn't your fault," Bedros said firmly. "No more than the actions of my old friend are my fault. He didn't have to exile me here, but he did. It’s not my fault." He shrugged. "No one here blames you." He smiled weakly. "I'm sure your brothers at the monastery would agree with me. When will you be leaving to rejoin them."
Something flickered across Taniel's face, equal parts pain and humiliation and plain old-fashioned misery.
Bedros blinked slowly. "You…are not going back, are you?"
"Though I never meant to, I did for some time help with some of the illegal spells with which Vosgi experimented. I could not turn him in without revealing my own part in all of it – and the fact we were lovers only made matters worse." He grimaced. "Did you figure that out, or did Vosgi bring it up to call me a slut?"
"Kohar figured it out," Bedros said blandly. "So they kicked you out?"
"Yes," Taniel said. "I am lucky, and grateful, that was all they did."
"You haven't told your brother."
"It is no one's problem but mine," Taniel said. "I did not intend for you to know."
Bedros narrowed his eyes. "You came to say goodbye," he said. "You were going to leave tonight."
Taniel glared at him. "Stop figuring everything out."
"No," Bedros said, grinning despite his displeasure. "You're not leaving. Why are you trying to leave? Do you dislike it here?" He scowled. "Has someone made you feel unwelcome? I may be locked up by those two hens, but I'm still lord of this castle. If anyone is—"
"No," Taniel cut in. "Your castle is beautiful, I've enjoyed myself immensely, despite the problem of Vosgi." He hesitated, then stayed silent, looking at his hands in his lap.
"Why do you want to leave? You are more than welcome to remain here with us."
Taniel shook his head. "No, your grace." His eyes blazed as he looked up. "I did not come up here to beg a home from you."
Bedros looked at him, slowly setting aside his wine. "Then why? Just to say goodbye?"
"I was just going to leave, though my brother would have likely sent a curse after me, but…" He shrugged. "I did not want to leave without seeing you one last time."
"You don't have to leave," Bedros said with a sigh. "You're hardly begging. Without you, I'd probably be dead – if not because of Vosgi, then because of Nerek and Kohar." He bit back saying that he didn't want Taniel to go, not for a very long time, if ever. He liked the idea of a permanent arrangement. "There's plenty of work to do here, and Kohar never spends all the money I allot to magic expenditures." He shut up, before he started sounding pathetic and desperate.
Taniel opened his mouth, then closed it again, sitting once more in silence. "You offer a great deal of temptation."
"Well, we're not a monastery," Bedros said, smiling despite himself. "The soldiers would rise up and kill me if I tried to forbid them…certain activities." He racked his brain for other persuasions. "I'm certain Kohar loves having his only remaining family close, as well as another mage. Nerek always approves of anyone who works hard…" He dared to wink. "And I still have not managed to steal away that beautiful hair."
"You are welcome to it, your grace," Taniel said, mouth curving in a faint, amused smile.
"I prefer it on your head, honestly," Bedros said before he could stop himself.
Taniel ducked his head, staring once more at his hands. "I wonder that I was ever allowed to be a monk, for all that I excel at magic. Vosgi was hardly my first lover during my years there, and our affair was rather nastily terminated only a couple of months ago…he died only two days ago…and yet I barely think of him."
"I see no point in paying any manner of respect to a man like that," Bedros said, thinking extremely disrespectful thoughts of the bastard. "He sounded like a man who knew how to get what he wanted, by whatever means, and is not worth thinking about, except perhaps to say good riddance."
"Very likely true, but my point was that even amidst all this, I have been horribly distracted by inappropriate thoughts about a man who is far above me in station…and selfish enough to want to bid you a very memorable farewell before I departed."
Bedros' breath caught in his chest, eyes snapping up to catch Taniel's. "You were flirting with me, that day you delivered my breakfast."
"You, uh, made quite the sight, your grace," Taniel replied. "I think even the strictest monk would have been hard pressed to maintain his celibacy presented with that view."
He had not flushed like a schoolboy since his first years of school, but Bedros felt his cheeks heat now. "I thought the room was empty," he muttered.
Taniel laughed.
Bedros coughed. "You don't have to leave. I am perfectly amenable to your keeping me company, and staying to keep me company for an extremely long time. If…if you are inclined. None of this above your station nonsense, either."
Hope and want flared in Taniel's eyes, but still he hesitated.
"Oh, by the Regions!" Bedros said on a sigh, and stood up. Crossing the small space between them, he yanked Talien to his feet and mashed their mouths together in a kiss that started out hard and clumsy, but soon eased into something hot and fierce and precisely what he needed.
What they both needed, and he was not at all opposed to being locked in his room for another day or three.
Especially since, if he left it, Kohar would kill him.
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Date: 2008-06-08 04:31 pm (UTC)For more Cf. the two other comments, it can be used here too, for the second one change "drabble" by story : it'll stay true ^_~ ...
And a new *love-HUG* for you, cause you so deserve it ^__^