“I’m due for training, but I had to see you. It seems that there is so little time for that lately.” She attempted a lighthearted laugh, but it faltered, falling flat quickly.
Dephithus gave a nod to indicate a direction and kept walking. He took hold of her hand as she fell into step alongside him. Myara gave his hand a little squeeze and made no effort to pull away. “I told you this would happen.”
“Yes, well, I suppose you were right, though you said a woman would be the one to come between us. You haven’t gotten married and had kids yet, have you?”
Dephithus chuckled. “Nope, not yet, and I don’t expect to in the next couple of days either.”
She stopped and faced him, giving his hand a tug to stop him with her. “I would like to spend some time together. When is your next free day?”
A creeping dread oozed through him at the thought. Could he try to be his old self for an entire day? Myara might not like the new short-tempered Dephithus that seemed to be controlling him these days. Still, looking down into her beautiful warm eyes, he was suddenly inclined to try. “Three more days of practice, then I have a day free.”
“Wonderful. I can make that work. I better get going.” She popped up on her toes and kissed him quickly on the lips before turning to go. After only two steps, she turned back to him, her expression suddenly serious, and he could see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I’m so sorry about what happened at the tournament. I know how horrible I would feel.”
As she turned and walked away, the guilt began to burn through him again that he had believed himself free of. With a deep ache in his chest and a sudden miserable lump in his throat, he sought out the nearest quiet place he could find. It turned out to be behind one of the Legion stables near an empty paddock. With a massive sigh of frustration, he leaned back against the stable wall and slid down to sit cross-legged on the dirt. Not the most regal of positions, but with no one there to see, he could not muster up much concern.
How odd that a woman could make someone feel miserable simply by trying to make them feel better. Strangest thing was that, when women wanted to make someone feel bad, they could do that just fine too. Myara confounded him anyway. It was not so long ago that he was certain she only saw him as a friend. Now it seemed she wanted more than that, but how much and how fast? He wanted to couple with her. To touch her soft skin and join with her in passion. Yet, whenever those desires worked towards the surface he began to feel out of control. The same dark blaze that fed his new unpredictable temper sparked with his passion.
What if he hurt her?
Myara obviously did not blame him for Larina’s death, but he knew better. He reminded himself over and over to make sure he never forgot who he had become. He could remember watching that weak point like a poor man would watch a bulging coin purse, hoping one coin might fall away unnoticed within his reach. If he could lose control of himself enough to take someone’s life, then what might he do to her if his passion took control?
He heard footsteps coming around one side of the barn. They were too close for him to make himself scarce before they came around the corner, so he stayed where he was, hoping vainly to be overlooked. There was no such luck with him. Darkin led his group around the corner, stopping as soon as he spotted Dephithus. A crooked smile touched his lips and the other four stopped beside him, curious eyes homing in on the object of their leader’s interest.
Dephithus realized what a precarious position he was in, especially if Darkin harbored any resentment for the incident in the guard tower.
“Careful my friends,” Darkin piped up, his sarcastic grin growing wider, “it seems we have a killer in our midst.”
Dephithus fought with himself, maintaining an outward calm despite the fast rise of his inner rage. It was a hypocritical rage anyhow. Darkin was the first person to call him out for what he knew he was, and he was going to get upset over it. This was what he deserved.
He regarded Darkin and his companions coolly. “If it makes you nervous, you’re welcome to leave.”
“But we aren’t welcome to stay, are we?” By the time Darkin finished his sentence he had walked past Dephithus and hopped up to perch on the paddock fence alongside him.
The lone woman in the party, a lean blond with pale skin and cruel blue-gray eyes, sat on the fence beside Darkin. The remaining three stayed standing on the other side of Dephithus, perhaps ready to block his escape if Darkin wanted to try anything.
“This is my little band. Kip and Lanz.” Darkin nodded to the two farthest lads in turn. Kip was a bit shorter and thinner than Lanz. They both had brown hair and eyes and pale skin, but their features were different enough to drastically reduce the odds that they were related. Darkin nodded to the third lad, a muscular youth with the same skin, hair and eyes as the girl. “That’s Kovial and this is his twin sister Suva. Everyone,” he gestured with a sweep of his arm toward Dephithus, “this is our future High Lord Dephithus, come here to wallow in the dirt with the dregs.”
Dephithus scowled a warning at Darkin.
Suva smiled, though the expression did not touch her eyes. “So, I guess you won your first tournament challenge.”
He turned his glare on Suva and she glared right back. Her eyes were hungry for conflict and he wondered if such corruption was reflected in his own expression. He understood it, that craving to start a fight and burn away some of the seething hatred within. His hand shifted a little closer to Amahna’s dagger.
Kovial took a step closer to the fence and his sister. His eyes were not as unfriendly as hers, but they carried a warning. Judging by the way she moved and the fierce confidence in her expression, Suva was not likely to need or want his protection.
“No need to be so touchy.” Kovial offered in defense of his sister and perhaps in the hopes of avoiding a scene. “How would you feel if it had been you instead of Larina?”
“Dead,” Dephithus replied shortly.
The others laughed and Kovial sighed as though he was used to being the subject of their amusement.
Dephithus scowled at Darkin again, wishing they would go and leave him to his largely unproductive brooding.
Darkin managed to look suddenly serious, almost sympathetic. “It isn’t like you could have prevented it.”
“I knew it was going to happen.” Dephithus realized as he said it that admitting such a thing to this bunch was probably the same as offering his neck to the headsman, but the words spilled out before he could stop them. He cursed himself silently for having half the wits of a cow. All he could do now was wait and see what they would do. Besides, it was liberating in a way to tell someone the truth. They would tell someone in charge and he would face the punishment he deserved.
Darkin grinned.
“Even better. Why don’t you join us for a bite?” He jumped down from the fence and glanced over at Dephithus with an expectant look. No one moved. Darkin’s companions looked as stunned as Dephithus was, though it was probably more from the invitation than his apparent approval of Larina’s murder. Darkin spread his scowl around the five of them equally. “Are you all coming or am I eating alone today?”
Dephithus surprised himself, and probably the other four as well, by being the first to join Darkin. As soon as he was on his feet, he and Darkin began to walk away from the rest of the reluctant group. After a few more seconds of indecision, the others trotted to catch up.
Dephithus kept his pace even with Darkin’s. He would not allow the other youth to get so much as a toe length ahead of him. “What did you mean?”
Darkin looked puzzled for a moment, then he realized what Dephithus was asking and smiled. “She had an ugly nose.”
Dephithus fell into stunned silence. An ugly nose? How did that make any of this better? “Bold,” he muttered, remembering his and Myara’s critique of Larina’s least appealing feature.
“What?” Darkin glanced over at him. There was none of the hostility in that look that Dephithus had come to expect, which made him
very nervous.
“She had a bold nose.”
Darkin shrugged. “It adds up to the same thing doesn’t it?”
Dephithus could hardly believe he was having this conversation. “So, she deserved to die because she had an ugly nose?”
Darkin shrugged again, he looked vaguely bored with the subject. “If you must have a reason it’s good enough for me.”
Dephithus shook his head, trying to hold on to the sense of dismay that was fading too fast. He hesitated a moment, but a bit of twisted humor drove him to speak again. Keeping his voice level and very serious, he said, “I certainly hope my nose doesn’t offend.”
Darkin tripped, surprised by the comment, and the others chuckled when he turned to regard Dephithus with mock severity. After a moment there was a nod, accompanied by a satisfied grunt. “Can’t find much to fault in that face. Suva?”
Suva grinned, baring her teeth like a wolf. No, she was not like a wolf. She was something much more violent than a wolf. Licking her lips hungrily she regarded Dephithus. “Nothing wrong with his looks at all. I guess we’ll have to find another reason to kill him”
Dephithus could feel the other three behind him, but they did not concern him. Kovial did not seem the unreasonably violent type and the other two were followers. They would do nothing without a word from Darkin. Suva, on the other hand, had a passion for brutality that radiated off her, putting an edge on every word she spoke. Dephithus met her look with a challenging glare. With hardly any movement, Suva’s stance turned aggressive and Dephithus moved his hand closer to the dagger again.
Before it could go any further Darkin stepped in, sliding one arm around Suva’s shoulders. He directed a subtle shake of his head at the three behind Dephithus. Moving his hand away from the dagger Dephithus wondered how close he had come to getting attacked from behind.
Suva turned her glare on Darkin, but she did not pull away.
“Enough playing around for now. I’m hungry and I’m not in the habit of inviting people to eat with me just for the sake of a good brawl.” Darkin waited, watching Dephithus expectantly.
Dephithus nodded after a moment. Whatever Darkin was up to, he was not going to find out if he walked away now. Darkin did not seem satisfied with just the nod though. He picked out Kovial with his gaze.
“Why don’t you and the others go on ahead? I would like to talk to our young lord.”
Dephithus remained silent as the other four went on without them, their narrowed eyes making their displeasure at being sent on their way clear. Suva passed unnecessarily close to him in the process, her body brushing his arm, her feral grin up in his face. He and Darkin stood in silence, primarily ignoring each other until the rest of the group was out of earshot. Dephithus could not figure what Darkin might want with him that he would risk irritating his companions as he obviously had.
Darkin began to walk after them, keeping his pace slower. Dephithus, trying to fight the swell of rage at being expected to follow, trotted forward and made a point of falling into step just a hair ahead of Darkin.
“I don’t like you any more now than I did last time we met,” Darkin stated when the others were a little further ahead.
This did not come as a surprise at all so Dephithus held his silence and waited for more.
“Truth be told, I would love to let Suva have a go at you. However, I’ve watched you on that stallion of yours and you’re practically unbeatable. Most of what I know I have learned from two of my companions. Suva is the most brutal and efficient fighter with a sword and dagger I have ever seen. Kovial is as good at unarmed hand to hand as you are at mounted combat. So, you see, my intentions are purely selfish. I am looking to improve my mounted skills and I expect you to help me.”
Expect. A familiar rage began to boil within him. Still, there was little he could do. He had given Darkin the perfect tool for blackmail in being stupid enough to tell him the truth about Larina.
Darkin’s smirk made it plain that the same thought was going through his head.
“I suppose you plan to use up more of my precious free time with this pursuit?”
Darkin’s step was light. He was enjoying himself. “Certainly. As much as I can. The others will get used to you. I might even get used to you eventually.”
Dephithus sneered. “Don’t expect the same.”
The deeply satisfied grin on Darkin’s face left a sour taste in Dephithus’s mouth. “Come, we will eat and discuss our arrangement.”
Arrangement indeed. Dephithus nodded, fidgeting with the hilt of the dagger as they walked. When the moment was right, he would make Darkin sorry for this.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When his next free day finally arrived, Dephithus lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Fully awake long before he needed to be. Was there really any reason to get up? He was supposed to meet with Myara in the afternoon. She had not been able to get the entire day free, but they would have some time to spend together later. It was probably better that way. Less time for him to mess something up, but the thought of finally spending time with her made him itchy with impatience and a little nauseous. Maybe he could try and go back to sleep until it was time. Then again, as eager as he was for the time to pass there was not much chance of him falling asleep again.
With a dramatic sigh, he threw back the covers and got up to dress. He had bathed the previous day to rid himself of the sweat of practice, so he wasted no time on such frivolities today. He tamed down his hair with a comb and stared long into the mirror, waiting for something. What he was waiting for was as much a mystery to him as it was to the mirror. He had long ago decided the mirror incident in Dalynay had been nothing more than stress playing tricks on his mind. After a bit he gave up and shrugged.
He stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him, then he turned around and stepped back in. After a quick glance around, he picked the serpent dagger up from the bed-stand, sheathing it at his waist, and left again.
Outside, a warm sun greeted him over the vibrant gardens. There had not been another heavy rain like the day after his birthday, but there was enough of a shower now and then to maintain the healthy color in the gardens. Purples, blues, reds and every other color flower imaginable adorned the statues and other stonework around the grounds, all mixed in tastefully with varying shades of lush green foliage. Some of the statues were drowning beneath a strangling sea of vines and blooms.
Dephithus strode out like a king with the flowers his robe and the sun his crown. A pleasant sort of confidence had come over him in the last several days. It seemed odd, after his encounter with Darkin, that he should start to feel so much better. Yet, was there really any reason to question such a positive change? Better to embrace and accept it, especially today.
He had not really decided what to do with his morning yet, but he drifted in the direction of the stables. It was as he was walking a path between the outer hedges that he overheard his name being spoken by someone on the other side. He stopped and moved through the nearest opening in the hedge wall. The speakers did not notice him. They leaned close as if sharing a secret though they spoke loud enough for him to hear clearly from several feet behind them. He recognized them. They were common visitors to the court, often dallying in the gardens with other nobles on lovely days such as this. Calt and Alexa were their names if he remembered right.
He crept closer as they spoke.
“Yes, well, all you had to do was look at his strange eyes to know he would go bad eventually.” Calt was saying matter-of-factly. “I’ve heard that Commander Vicor is having a great deal of trouble with him. I overheard him arguing with Commander Parthak about the young lord’s dangerous temper.”
“He always seemed such a fine lad. So well-mannered and kind, until recently. I do wonder what Lord Mythan intends to do. Especially after that horrible incident at the tournament.” Alexa sighed as if the thought troubled her, but her casual tone belied her.
Dephithus growled under his breath. The so
und was loud enough to startle the two gossips.
“Pardon, my Lord Dephithus, we didn’t see you there,” Calt defended, his eyes shifting nervously to Alexa then to the ground.
Dephithus regarded them, an icy cold building in his gutting and spreading though him as they exchanged another nervous glance with one another, carefully avoiding his accusing gaze.
“Given your words, I see no reason to give you pardon.” Turning abruptly the ball of his foot, he stalked away. They began to speak in hushed voices behind him, but he ignored them. Nothing they had to say was important now. He knew their minds.
Stepping back through the hedge he discovered that he was not the only eavesdropper wandering the gardens. Darkin grinned and fell into step beside him as he continued along his original course. Of all the people he might want to overhear such things, Darkin had to be near the bottom of the list. Despite the numerous angry comments that his current boiling rage brought to mind, he managed to hold his tongue.
Showing unusual tact, Darkin did not speak until they had left the gardens behind and the stables loomed up in front of them.
“I thought you and Hydra might be up for a little exercise this morning.”
Dephithus glanced over at the youth, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. “That was my thought as well, though I had hoped for something less… social.”
Darkin shook his head with an amused smile. “I will blackmail you into it if I must, my temperamental trainer, but I don’t think it’s necessary. Give it a chance. You might enjoy yourself.”
Dephithus scowled, further irritated by the fact that Darkin was plainly enjoying his ruffled composure. “The fact that neither of us likes the other makes this arrangement a bit unconventional.”
“I know.” Darkin looked almost delighted by the observation. “I figure it might add a bit of authenticity to the fighting.”
Dephithus hesitated at that. Maybe Darkin was on to something. There was little that eased his constant anger better than combat practice. Working without supervision with an opponent that he despised might provide exactly the kind of outlet he needed. A slow smile touched his lips. “That it might.”
Dark Hope of the Dragons (Elysium's Fall Book 1) Page 16