To Target the Heart

by Aldrea Alien

  “Mea lux,” Darshan breathed, the whisper of laughter riding in on the words. He sagged, leaning his shoulders back against Hamish’s chest. “I hardly think here is appropriate.”

  Grunting, Hamish attempted to regain the lost space between them. The last he had seen of Darshan, the man had been adamant about leaving Tirglas on the next ship destined for the Udynea Empire. Now he was dressed in garb that mimicked those worn by the competitors and joking as if there hadn’t been a week of silence between them.

  He’s competing. He couldn’t be. There were rules. Men didn’t compete alongside women, certainly not for another man’s hand. How had he even managed to enter? How could he expect to win? What did he expect to happen if he did? Or if he lost?

  Sweet Goddess… All that would be needed to turn the whole contest into chaos was for the man to unveil himself. Did Darshan know? Was he aware of how dangerous and foolhardy he was being pretending to be a competitor? And for what? He couldn’t even seem to find whatever he sought for along the shelving.

  Hamish cleared his throat. “What are you looking for?” With so many questions crowding his thoughts, this seemed the simplest.

  “My glasses case. It should be along here.” Darshan continued to pat the shelf as if the room was still dark.

  The case sat just before one of the lanterns. The dark brown wood made it difficult to pick out from the shadows, but not impossible for those who knew what to look for. “Exactly how far can you see without these?” Hamish asked, handing over the case.

  Darshan stretched his arm out before him, his palm flat as if it were pressed to a wall, and wriggled his naked fingers. “This far, clearly. Beyond that, I steadily lose details until it’s all just coloured blobs.”

  “And you expect to compete when you cannae properly see your opponent?” A civil war. That was what the bloody man was going to start.

  Darshan’s jaw set into a stubborn line as he secured the wire frames over his ears. That determination echoed in his eyes when he glared up at Hamish. “I will manage. Same as I always do. Or did you think I have no experience attempting tasks without the advantage of regular sight?” There was a drop of venom in his tone, not acidic enough to mean much harm.

  Hamish rolled his tongue, opting for silence. He had seen Darshan fumble his way around unfamiliar environments during their travels. Usually, it had been to relieve himself and he had stumbled into something along the way more often than not.

  No matter how he tried, Hamish couldn’t imagine the man winning a sword fight or traipsing through a forest for long without running afoul of something. If they hadn’t noticed Darshan’s addition to the union contest, then maybe they wouldn’t notice if he also vanished. Especially this early on. “Dar—”

  Darshan held up a hand. “Let us not speak here.” Giving a curt jerk of his head, he descended the tunnel with the ball of light leading the way.

  Hamish followed, running a considering eye over Darshan’s outfit. It could’ve been the shadows, but the garb didn’t just have the vague appearance of what the competitors wore. It was identical. “Where did you get those clothes?” If there was a woman tied up somewhere, they were going to be in more trouble than if Darshan’s whereabouts were revealed.

  “Your brother assisted me there.”

  “Me brother?” Hamish blurted. Now he was looking for the signs, the fabric did seem frayed. Old. “Gordon? He’s in on this? For the love of—” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Of course this would have to be his brother’s plot. That was how Darshan knew about this tunnel. Nora wouldn’t have handed the Udynean a key, especially after the man’s outburst at the dinner table, and none of the children were old enough to have access. “What has me bloody brother gotten you to agree to? What did he tell you?”

  Scoffing, Darshan flapped his hands as if shooing a fly. “What makes you think your brother is involved any further than gifting me the appropriate garments? Why assume he did anything as crass as gossip?”

  “Because you cannae have thought this up on your own. You dinnae ken anything about the union contest, you said it yourself.” Whether or not Darshan acted alone now, Gordon would’ve been the one to bring this mad plan to the Udynean’s attention. “What has me brother been doing?”

  “Training me.”

  “Train—?” All this time? And with no word from either of them?

  We’ll find a way out of this. His brother’s promise echoed through his mind. This was Gordon’s solution? Throw Darshan into this manic press for Hamish’s hand? Did he honestly think Darshan could win? That he would want to win?

  “I thought you’d been kicked back to Udynea,” Hamish mumbled. Whilst Darshan had arrived by ship, he didn’t have to leave that way. An escort over land would take longer, but it would see him out of Mullhind within the day. “I thought—”

  “That I had left you here to spend the rest of your life screaming on the inside or worse?” Darshan slowed so that they walked side by side. He had lowered the scarf from his face. Apparently, he had found time to shave with his busy schedule—one that didn’t include informing Hamish of his intentions—and sported a style similar to the moustache and short, goat-like beard combo he’d worn upon his arrival. “Do you honestly believe I would choose to have you deal with that toxic woman who dares to claim herself as your mother alone?”

  “Watch who you’re badmouthing,” Hamish snapped. “That’s me mum. The woman who gave birth to me.”

  Darshan whirled on him, shock and indignance plastered over his face. “You will defend her after what she has done to you? That woman deserves a retribution fit for the gods. You owe her no allegiance, especially when she treats you in this manner.” Regret dulled his eyes as soon as the words had left his mouth. “That was unworthy, my apologies. It is not my place to dictate how you interact with, or think of, your family.”

  “Well, you’re right on that.”

  “It is just, seeing you having to hide your true feelings, the real you, from everyone. And then being forced into this, I cannot—” He hung his head and sighed. “If she were my mother, I would have disowned her long ago. I could never leave you here, even if I did not—” He turned from Hamish, lengthening his stride whilst rubbing at his neck and jaw.

  Hamish attempted to catch up, surprised at the sudden speed.

  “I think—” Darshan stilled as they reached the gate, stopping with a lurch that almost caused Hamish to collide into him. “Back in the woods,” he whispered, clutching the thick iron bars. “Seeing the damage that bear had done to you. I realised then, I did not…” The words grew soft, almost hesitant. He peered over his shoulder. “I did not wish to lose you.”

  Hamish wet his lips, not sure what the man expected of him. “So you agree to compete for me hand?” Did he consider this as some sort of penance for his actions? “You do ken that, if you win, I’m your prize. You’d have to marry me.”

  “I am well aware of the terms, mea lux.” Darshan turned, leaning back against the gate. In the dim light of his little globe, those hazel eyes were wide and glittering. “Is that a problem? I cannot account for his accuracy, but Gordon seemed certain you would be all for it. Are you objecting to this line of thought?”

  Was he? “I just—” His mother could likely dredge up a dozen reasons for Hamish to refuse this offer, but he could think of only one. “You… you barely ken anything about me.”

  “And those women likely know even less. At least with me, you know we are compatible.”

  Hamish peered at the man. “Why are you doing this? You didnae have to get involved.” Yet here he was. Did the reasons behind Darshan’s actions even matter if the outcome saw Hamish free? And yet… Like a tree snake, a terrible new thought slithered through the scrambled nest of his mind and reared its head. “This isnae out of pity, is it? You cannae think you’ll get anything out of this.”

  Darshan sighed. “Look, you said yourself that the only other alternatives beyond your death will lead to civil war
. I know the rules; Gordon schooled me on them. I am more than qualified to compete. You cannot get any nobler than an imperial prince.”

  Nae, you cannae. Although his mother would find plenty of other reasons to invalidate Darshan’s victory. She could even have him arrested, or at least try.

  Would it matter then? If the man won, then everyone would know.

  “As for what I get out of this?” Darshan continued. “I get you, do I not? Winning will see you free of all this, will keep you safe with me.”

  Another way. Hamish leant against the wall to steady himself, his legs wobbling as the idea finally sank in. His bloody brother had done just as he had promised. “I—”

  Darshan unlocked the gate and sauntered through. A tent stood nearby—shielding the tunnel exit and set slightly apart from the tents pitched by the other clans. It was to the back of this structure that the man strode and slipped through a flap.

  Glancing around to ensure no eyes but those of the wildlife saw them, Hamish followed. The inside of the tent was quite sparse, carrying only the sort of essentials a clansman might require on a journey of this import.

  Darshan had finished unwinding the scarf and was busy withdrawing his customary garb from a small chest. He glanced up from smoothing out his sherwani, meeting Hamish’s gaze. His body tensed in such a clear anticipation of a bad reaction that Hamish found himself mimicking the man.

  “I had no intentions of becoming someone’s husband,” Darshan said. “Truthfully, the very idea of getting married was not something I was at all willing to entertain. Tying myself to someone I barely tolerated for the rest of my life sounded more akin to torture.”

  “Then why—?”

  “I got to know you and—” He scratched at his jaw, remaining silent for what had to be an age. “The longer I am here, the more time I had with you. I started to consider that… maybe it would not be as bad as I had previously thought.”

  “To tie yourself to someone you can barely tolerate?”

  Shock dropped his jaw. “No! That is not what I am trying to—” Darshan rubbed at his temple. He grumbled under his breath, snippets of words Hamish didn’t understand but knew were of the Ancient Domian tongue. “This is the effect you have on me.” He strode the few steps the width of the tent allowed, his hands fluttering. “Put me in the Crystal Court and I will know the exact words to say to charm any number of people, but stand me before you?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I suddenly have all the eloquence of a tongue-tied goat.”

  Hamish knew the feeling. He had never considered someone might feel that way about himself, though.

  Darshan stopped before him. He ran his hand down Hamish’s chest, slowly as if soothing a horse. He remained silent for a while, that hazel gaze just meeting his. Searching. All jesting gone. “If you must marry someone at the end of this contest, then it should be someone you love.”

  Ice slid its way into Hamish’s veins. What had his brother told the man?

  “What I am trying to say is…” He laid a hand on Hamish’s chest, the spot where his heart sat. “You are my light.” The way he spoke. Soft and breathless. Almost as if he was saying a somewhat different phrase.

  He cannae mean… Hamish’s jaw soundlessly dropped open. Putting together everything Darshan had recounted about his homeland, the man likely meant exactly what Hamish believed. Goddess, give me strength. He must have it wrong.

  Darshan chuckled. “Well, I thought it might have come as a shock, but I was not expecting it to leave you speechless.” He frowned, the minute scrunching of thick brows. A spark of panic flickered to life in the faint twitch of his mouth. “Is it too soon? It is hardly some habit of mine to offer my heart to all and sundry.” His gaze darted to the ground, then the walls. His hands lifted as if to twist rings that weren’t currently on his fingers. “Or anyone before. But we are rather pressed for time.”

  He does mean… As desperately as Hamish tried to speak, no sound escaped. Even his jaw wouldn’t do anything more than hang there. His throat tightened. His heart raced like a panicked doe.

  A wisp of a memory surfaced at the declaration, the stable master, he’d whispered the same words. Before…

  There had been others since then who had declared similar as they pounded him sore. Right before they were discovered, before he was dragged back into his room and they—

  Died. His brother had tried to shield him from the truth, but he had learnt it years ago. He’d been like a plague amongst the sailors and ruffians who’d dared to accept his offer of a fun time. His mother had given the order, but he had delivered their death sentences.

  “ ‘Mish?” Darshan peered up at him, that hazel gaze brimming with concern. “Are you—” His hand fell on Hamish’s forearm. The warm buzz of the man’s healing magic raced through Hamish and Darshan’s worry seemed to shift. “Did I misspeak? Do you not use that phrase in Tirglas?”

  “Nae like that,” he whispered. Never had he heard any such words uttered with so much rawness or warmth. “But if it means what I think it does. That—”

  “I love you?” Darshan suggested, the words coming easily. “That phrase is used back home as well, but for family. Whilst I would not shirk from having you join mine, what I feel for you is not the same love shared between brothers. If it makes you feel more comfortable I can—”

  “Nae. I…” Hamish froze. “You actually love me?”

  Darshan’s gaze lifted. A hint of smugness curved the corners of his mouth for a moment before melting into a softer smile. “Did you think I was competing for your hand out of altruism? And why would I not love you? You are everything I have ever wanted in a husband, and I did not even realise I wanted to marry until I met you.”

  Hamish shook his head, trying to latch onto the words that escaped him. “How could you?” he whispered. “You’ve seen all that is happening, all that I’ve been put through, how could you possibly think this was a good time to tell me?”

  Confusion clouded Darshan’s eyes and wrinkled his brow. “This is the first time we have spoken to each other since we returned to the castle. When else could I have told you? Before I realised? Mea lux, I—”

  “You said those words mean my light. You called me that the day after we had sex and every day onwards. Did you nae mean it then?”

  “It is a form of affection and I meant it as such. I was perhaps unaware as to the depths that fondness ran at first, but my lack of awareness is no longer true. I am uncertain I could feel this way with another man and I am most unwilling to find out.” Darshan grasped his hands, clinging so tight that the ring the man had bought him dug into Hamish’s skin. “ ‘Mish. I have said before that you are a good man, but I do not think you comprehend how rare a thing that is to find in the Crystal Court. Maybe it is a little selfish of me. I have been trying to go slow but—”

  Hamish couldn’t help the snicker that shook his body. “This is you going slow? By entering in the union contest?”

  Darshan inclined his head, but not before Hamish caught a fond smile creasing the man’s eyes. “It would seem I am not very good at it. The fact of the matter is… I messed up. I want to make it right.”

  “And trying to win me hand within a month of meeting me is going to do that?”

  “I understand it likely seems like a leap to you, but when I saw that bear over you, the damage it had done…” He fell back to attempting to twist the still-absent ring on his little finger. “Every time I close my eyes, I see it. You lying there, bleeding with barely a breath to be had and even less of a pulse.”

  Shuddering, Hamish staggered back from the man. He squeezed his eyes shut. Never would he have thought that—

  The bear’s drooling maw filled the darkness in his mind. The smell of rancid meat invaded his nose. He could even sense the heat of its breath blasting across his face, freezing every muscle in his body.

  He opened his eyes, but the image remained, drifting like fog over the real world.

  “ ‘Mish?” Darshan to
ok a few steps closer, his arm outstretched. Shock and concern battled for control over his expression, seemingly ageing him.

  Hamish waved him back, relieved when Darshan halted in the middle of the tent. “I’ll be fine,” he managed, his voice tightening on the last word. He just needed time. Somewhere he could feel safe.

  He shook his head, desperately trying to clear the scene from the forefront of his thoughts. It worked to some extent, although it left room for other concerns to make themselves known.

  Could he do this? Stand idly by as another attempted to win his freedom for him? “Do you have any idea what’ll happen if you win and finally reveal yourself?” His mother might be able to brush aside Darshan’s attempt if he lost, but a win? Where she would have to accept a man marrying her son or stand before the clans and choose to ignore the contest’s outcome?

  “Will it matter when I have heeded the rules?”

  “That’s a load of bollocks, right there. Men dinnae compete against women.” Not in any record he knew of. And he knew them all. “Me brother should’ve told you that.”

  Darshan scoffed. “Your brother thought it was fine and I am rather inclined to believe his lack of concern. Have you seen some of them? Up close as I have? Half of them are this tall.” He waved his hand high above his head. “Some could likely pop a man’s head clean off his neck with a flex of their arms no trouble. And I am certain there are a handful of others who could squeeze the brain from the skull with a twitch of their thighs.”

  The man could only be talking about those from the eastern clans, where riding through the mountains whilst herding their stock was a day’s outing for them. The current rumour was they did much of their riding bareback.

  Darshan shook himself. “My point is, I am somewhat at a physical disadvantage. So I doubt anyone can realistically claim I had the upper hand.”

  “Nae but there is your magic,” Hamish pointed out.