Jonas' smile returned, and Aleksei could feel the man’s relief. “Of course. The stables are on the West Lawn. I will wait for you in my chambers.”
Aleksei frowned, “Your chambers?”
“Just ask a servant and you’ll be given directions. I’ve prepared them for your arrival.”
Aleksei nodded, more confused than ever by this man. “Thank you.”
Jonas looked up into his eyes. For the first time since they’d met, Aleksei saw something beyond the intense intelligence that burned in the Prince. This was a man who was willingly exposing his vulnerabilities, a man who was being honest, and earnest, in a way that was clearly uncomfortable. But as uncomfortable as it may be, Jonas seemed to understand that it was also necessary.
“Thank you, Aleksei Drago. If for nothing else than exerting the sheer effort of coming this far to entertain a voice and a dream.”
Aleksei wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, but Jonas saved him the trouble by walking away. Aleksei watched the man vanish into the entrance of the Palace before he allowed himself a sigh.
He had spent the last few days alternately dreading and yearning for this moment, only to have it to end so abruptly. The dream man was unmasked, his purpose made clear. The only mysteries that remained were matters of magic that Aleksei wasn’t even close to understanding, and yet somehow that comforted him.
With a grunt, both confused and contented, Aleksei led Dash towards the West Lawn.
“Staying for a while, sir?” the groom asked as he led Dash into the spacious whitestone stable.
Aleksei paused, “I’m not sure.”
The groom nodded, “Very good, sir.”
He took Dash’s reins and led the draft horse back into the cool recesses of the building, leaving Aleksei standing in the doorway.
He was unaccustomed to people doing his work for him. The idea of servants rushing around to do his bidding filled him with a sense of horror bred by years of hard work. Aleksei turned and made his way into the Palace, trying to ignore the curious glances he received. He supposed he did look odd, dressed in the clothes of a peasant, smelling of dust and sweat.
Aleksei walked for a while, just taking in the sweeping beauty of the Palace. He didn’t want to hurry where Jonas had directed him, to seem too eager. He needed time to think about what he’d heard, and what it could mean. Was being bonded to Jonas any different than living with the Ri-Vhan as their Hunter? Would he be happier in the Wood? Would he be happy in either place or did he need to leave this palace and this city and hurry home as fast as he could?
No voices invaded his thoughts, much to his relief. He was allowed the freedom to ponder and question in silence, wandering through hallways, some quiet, others bustling with people.
He ignored everything as he walked. The cool stone of the Palace felt good after the heat of the city streets, and he realized how relaxed he felt in the Palace. Despite the glances and glares from people dressed much finer than he, Aleksei realized that something about the Palace felt…right.
After an hour or so of wandering, Aleksei decided it was time to find Jonas. He stopped a passing maid, “Where might I find Jonas Belgi’s chambers?”
The woman seemed startled, but nevertheless gave him directions. He thanked her and marched towards the west wing.
He was walking down yet another enormous corridor when a voice sounded behind him, “I trust you enjoyed your walk through the Palace?”
Aleksei nodded, “It’s beautiful. The people could stand to be friendlier, though.”
Jonas chuckled. “The disadvantage of looking like a farmer, I suppose.”
“Why did you say it like that? That I look like a farmer? What do you think I am?”
Jonas regarded him seriously as they stepped into his chambers, “I believe I know you for what you are, Aleksei Drago, and for what you may become.”
Aleksei rolled his eyes, “More riddles?”
“There is more to you than your homespun clothing and the dirt beneath your fingernails. Something that I cannot yet put into place. But you are no mere farmer, Aleksei.”
Aleksei sighed, “Well, I guess you do have me there.”
Jonas' eyes narrowed. “Do I? So what else are you?”
Aleksei straightened his back and looked directly into Jonas' eyes. “I’m the Hunter.”
Jonas smiled, “Very good. A hunter. That’s a promising start.”
Aleksei laughed. Jonas was so stunned by the reaction that he could only stare at the farm boy before him in utter confusion.
Aleksei shook his head. “You misunderstand. I meant to say that I’m the Ri-Vhan Hunter.”
If his laughter had startled Jonas, this new revelation left the Prince speechless.
“How is that possible? You’re from the Southern Plain.”
“My mother was Ri-Vhan.” he said softly. “We only left for the Southern Plain after she died.”
Aleksei could tell that Jonas was still trying to wrangle with the idea of Aleksei Drago being a Hunter. But the Prince pulled himself together with remarkable speed.
“Then, as I said, there is a great deal more to you than meets the eye. You’re a Hunter. That in itself is enough to make you a lord among men.”
“So why should I accept your offer?” Aleksei asked sharply, deciding to press his advantage while he possessed some modicum of control. “Why not return to the Ri-Vhan and become their exalted Hunter? Or to my farm where I could work the rest of my days in peace?”
Jonas did not seem perturbed by the question, “Because you would be miserable anywhere else. You would either grow to hate the Ri-Vhan for their timidity and your farm for its boundaries. The Ri-Vhan have their leader. They would be undoubtedly overjoyed to have you among them, but they don’t need you.
“As for your father, he seems like he can manage quite well on his own. And if he tires of the hard work, he is more than welcome to come to the Palace and live out the rest of his days in comfort.”
That brought Aleksei up short. He hadn’t realized that accepting Jonas' offer would have such lofty ramifications. “My father could retire to the Palace? You would honestly allow a peasant to live here?”
“Why not? You’re a peasant, yet I’m offering you one of the most coveted titles in Ilyar.”
Aleksei scowled, “Coveted?”
“You would be bound to the Prince of Ilyar. You would therefore share in all the comforts that come with my position. It’s one of the only ways to attain nobility in this realm without being born into it.”
He waved his hand towards the window, “There are a thousand farmers who would leap at the chance to be my Bonded and enjoy a life of luxury. A thousand more who would do it for the potential danger and adventure of being bound to the Prince of Ilyar.”
“Then why don’t you ask one of them?” Aleksei snapped.
Jonas smiled patiently. “Because I don’t want any of them, Aleksei. I want you. You are the one who called out to me. You are, as far as I’m concerned, the only one who really matters. You are an eye in the storm. You are the only one who is necessary.”
“Necessary for what?” Aleksei demanded.
“I’m not sure yet.” Jonas admitted. “That much hasn’t been made clear to me. All I know is that our bond is important. The bond I formed with you, that this other player, this other Magus has formed, signals something important. If I were not convinced that we were meant to be Bonded then I would have been content with a Legionnaire and let you go off to find this other player.”
There was a finality in Jonas' tone that Aleksei found unsettling. He was so confident, so certain. But about what? Aleksei wished to the gods he knew.
“It’s a pity you didn’t come a few days earlier. My cousin Tamara just left for our estate at Igraan, or I’d introduce you to her. She makes a charming dinner companion to say the least.” He chuckled and placed a comforting hand on Aleksei’s shoulder, “But I suppose you
need rest in any event.
“Take your time, Aleksei. This isn’t something you want to rush into without a great deal of thought. All I ask is that you consider what I’ve told you. There are answers out there, Aleksei, for both of us. Will you help me find them?”
Aleksei smiled, “I’ll think on it. Now if it’s alright, I’ll, uh, I’ll take my leave?”
Jonas led Aleksei out into the corridor, nodding a few doors down, “I’ve already had the maids make up the room. The kitchens are three flights down. If you get hungry this evening, fell free to help yourself.”
Aleksei nodded, grateful for Jonas' hospitality if nothing else. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jonas smiled, “I look forward to it. Sleep well, Aleksei Drago.” And then he turned and stepped back into his chambers, shutting the door gently behind him.
Aleksei frowned as he turned away from Jonas' rooms. Something the Prince had said stirred his memory, but he couldn’t place it. Not yet. Gods, but he wished he knew what it was.
His feet now dragging with exhaustion, Aleksei stumbled through the door of the chamber Jonas had indicated and kicked off his boots before collapsing onto the large bed. He drifted into sleep, comfortable for the first time in days and oddly at home with his surroundings.
CHAPTER 12
Catching Arrows
BAEL RETCHED VIOLENTLY into the ditch. His stomach was on fire from the pain and confusion, the sheer terror that radiated across the fragile bond he’d forged with Aleksei Drago. With every increasingly dry heave, another knot of fire punched him in the gut.
He had been so close, and in his fear he had ruined everything. He had sensed someone spying on him and his first instinct had been to lash out, to attack. Only now did he realize that the only reason he’d even felt the other man was because of the bond.
And now Aleksei was well within the walls of Kalinor.Bael wondered if his rival had already tracked down the young Hunter. Even now, Jonas Belgi was probably sinking his entitled claws into Aleksei’s heart. Even now Jonas Belgi was stealing away Bael’s only chance at salvation.
He made his way into the Commune, ignoring the frightened and furtive glances of his father’s faithful. They were nothing to him, not any longer.
The flap to Jorna’s tent flew open as Bael collapsed into a huddled wreck before her fire.
“Troubled, dearie?” she croaked.
Bael glared up at her, “I tried to kill him. It was him, in the Wood. It was Aleksei. I felt him there. I felt the bond. But…but I didn’t know what it was. I thought I….” Bael coughed several times, trying to push the tears from his eyes before dissolving into wracking sobs.
“I warned you, Bael. I told you to watch your temper. It seems you got burned this time, sweetling.”
Bael glared at her, “Are you insane? My future hangs on this and I just drove the one person who could fix it into Jonas Belgi’s hands.”
Jorna leaned forward, smoke drooling from her empty sockets, “Our future depended on this, and now you’ve made a properly royal mess of everything.”
“How dare you?” Bael demanded, standing and gripping the Archanium.
His connection to the magic snuffed out just as suddenly as it had appeared.
“Sit.” Jorna grunted.
Bael slammed to the ground. He was certain he’d felt a bone break. He stared into her empty eyes, fighting back a wave of nausea, transfixed by the embers of hatred he found burning within.
“I tried, sweetling.” Jorna hissed. “You were my frog prince. You were lovely. And then you changed. Just like Azarael, just like Darielle. Just like YOU. The children your father made are a sick stock, but I held my tongue. No more. YOU will not be like the others. YOU will obey. YOU will mind. YOU will do as I say or I will burn you from this cursed world. Am I clear?”
Bael felt an impossible chill sweep through him even as the air was pulled from his lungs in a ghostly fog. He had no breath. He could feel his lungs screaming for air as ice crystals spidered their way up his face.
“Yes.” he mouthed.
Jorna cackled, “That’s a good little Toady. Good Toady.” Her voice became a coo, “Now listen to me, little Toady. You’ve grown way above your britches. If you were younger I’d just switch you, but we’re past that, aren’t we, Toady?”
His head felt about to burst, yet no matter how he tried, Bael couldn’t muster the faintest glimmer of faith, of magic. She was in complete control. The Dark God be damned, but he had never felt such power radiate from the woman.
A spike of agony shot through his entire body, forcing his muscles to contract in abject pain. A scream rose within him that he could not possibly give voice to.
“Now, dearie,” Granny Jorna purred, smoke pouring from her eyes, “we’re going to fix this mess. And if we don’t, you’re going to cry blood until you’re sorry for what you’ve put your Granny through.”
Aleksei’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, searching the darkness. The night had been free of Jonas' voice, but that was a far cry from saying he hadn’t dreamt. He’d spent what few hours of sleep he’d managed being plagued by attacks from all sides, though he could see none of his attackers.
Now he sat in the darkness, his eyes searching the room but finding it empty. He was safe.
Aleksei rolled out of bed.
Whatever clinging threads of exhaustion had plagued him earlier were gone for the moment and he needed to stretch his legs. He felt claustrophobic in the darkness. Maybe a little exercise would clear his head.
He shut the door quietly behind him, deciding that he needed to eat something.
For a heartbeat he considered waking Jonas and asking the Prince to accompany him, but swiftly abandoned the idea. Undoubtedly Jonas would think him foolish for being frightened by a nightmare. Aleksei was determined not to show weakness in the Prince’s presence.
He moved silently down the hall, following Jonas' directions towards the kitchen. Food would help clear his head. He might even be able to sleep again before dawn came. That would be a welcome change, and he decided he might even allow himself the luxury of sleeping past dawn.
Aleksei turned a corner and paused. Several doors down he noticed a light. Someone else was awake, even at this hour.
Trying to be as quiet as possible, Aleksei crept past the doorway. It would not be good for an unknown peasant to be caught roaming the halls of the Palace at this hour.
“–will be gone soon. And then we only have the Prince to deal with.”
Aleksei stopped. The words were faint but he could make out the basic syllables.
“She’s moving south. They’re waiting in the Sulaq Hills. It should be the work of moments.”
Pieces of an intricate puzzle began to spin in Aleksei’s head. He closed his eyes and focused his attention entirely upon the sounds emanating from the chamber.
“And you’re sure the evidence will lead back to the Prince, Master?”
“Certain.”
And the pieces finally clicked.
Aleksei remembered Jonas' mention of the Princess Tamara.
She was headed to her lands in the South. He remembered the men in the Wood. They had spoken of a target, a ‘she’. And now these two men were conversing in the small hours of the morning.
He froze, realizing with a start that the voice of the one being called ‘Master’ belonged to the same man who’d thrown fire at him in the Wood. And they were going to assassinate the Princess in hopes of framing Jonas for the entire debacle?
What should he do? Should he run to Jonas and tell him what he’d heard? Would the Prince believe him? Would he even be able to do anything about it? Aleksei recalled what Jonas had said. His strange ability to cross great distances would vanish if he bonded either man. But it still remained.
If he could get to the Princess in time…. What? Aleksei battled his uncertainties as they stacked up, each one more convincingly dismal than the last
. He was riding into obvious danger and, much worse, a danger that was completely unknown to him. But he knew where Igraan was. It wasn’t more than fifty leagues from Voskrin. He knew which roads she would be on.
It was a risk to say the least, but Aleksei felt compelled. He turned on his heel and bolted in the other direction, ghosting through the halls of the Palace towards the entrance hall.
Aleksei slipped out into the chill of the night and dashed through the dew-slicked lawn, his feet bare but oblivious to the cold and the wet. He had only one purpose in mind, and it would take an act of the gods to stop him now.
He found the stables much as he’d left them, with the notable absence of the groom. Dash was in a stall near the entrance. Apparently the groom hadn’t been all that confident that Aleksei would be staying for any length of time.
Aleksei didn’t waste time saddling the horse and instead vaulted onto his back and dug his bare heels into the horse’s flanks.
Dash leapt forward, out of the stable and into the night.
Aleksei was not questioned at the gate, and as he passed rapidly through the streets of Kalinor he marveled at the ease with which Dash navigated the city. Less than a day before they’d both been lost to their wits’ end in this twisting labyrinth of alleys and streets, yet now the draft horse shot through them as though he’d been born traveling their twists and turns.
For his part, Aleksei clung to the stallion’s mane and kept watch for Guardsmen who might mistake them for criminals. And then they were rushing past the South Gate, as yet unscathed, unnoticed. Aleksei shook his head in amazement as Dash roared down the road, south towards the Sulaq Hills.
His eyes moved to the horizon, where the sun was yet several hours away. Aleksei fervently hoped it would be enough time. The distance he needed to travel was vast, and the clock ticking in his head made it all the more terrifying, yet Aleksei’s mind was consumed with the vision of a girl screaming as her horse was shot out from under her.
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