A Trilogy of Knights

by Megan Derr

  "Victor!" Shahzad called after him, and Victor winced as he heard a smacking sound that no doubt would leave Jafar reeling for a good day or three. —Colorful-sounding curses caught up with him first, followed by Shahzad pulling hard on his arm. "Please, stop." Shahzad's fingers touched his cheek for a moment before he withdrew them hastily, as if realizing he was crossing lines. "Forgive me."

  "And I," Jafar interrupted quietly from behind them. His right eye was already swelling from where Shahzad had punched him. "I did not invite you to duel to mock you. It was an honest invitation. I used magic because I got carried away—I would never have let the spell hurt you, Lord Victor. Please accept my humble apologies." He bowed low to Victor, then again to Shahzad. "Highness, I am truly sorry."

  "It is over," Shahzad said with a sigh. "I am sorry I let my temper control me. I was carried away in my concern." He frowned suddenly. "Though that reminds me—what was that you did? I have never seen such a thing and did not expect it from a foreigner. Your magic is quite different, or so I was always led to believe."

  Victor looked embarrassed. "I am not a proper sage, according to Northern magic. It is simply that I was raised by two especially powerful sages and influenced by a third at the castle. Dunstan, one of my caretakers, surmises that I sort of 'absorbed' it by association. I cannot cast spells or anything, but the powder Dunstan makes seems to…bend to my will."

  Jafar and Shahzad exchanged a look. "Could you show us again?" Shahzad asked politely, though he clearly was burning with curiosity.

  "Ah—yes. I suppose. What would you like me to do?"

  "Whatever is easiest," Shahzad replied, smiling.

  Victor nodded, not sure how to explain that one spell was not easier or more difficult than another. He regarded Jafar thoughtfully and took a bit of the powder from his pouch, rubbing it in his hand until it covered his fingers much like chalk. "Pardon me," he said softly, shyly, reaching up to wipe it across the bruises around Jafar's right eye. "Heal," he said quietly…and slowly the bruises began to fade. Though they didn't fade entirely, the worst of them vanished in mere minutes.

  "Amazing," Shahzad said, shaking his head in bemusement. "A Northerner who managed somehow to learn Eastern magic." He tilted his head, looking intently at Victor. "You are…intriguing."

  Victor turned red, looking away. "I am nothing special."

  Shahzad said nothing, merely held out the sword Victor had thrust at him. "Keep this. I think perhaps you will get more use out of it than Amir ever did." Ignoring Victor's attempts at protest, he motioned to Jafar. "Take this to his room." Turning to Victor, Shahzad gently grasped his arm and led him away. "Come, there is something else I want to show you. I was saving the best for last."

  "All right." Victor allowed himself to be led along, down first one long hallway and then another. Eventually they wound up outside, well away from the palace proper on the edge of a wide cliff overlooking a lush green valley far below. "Amazing," Victor breathed. "It is beautiful."

  Shahzad smiled, pleased, but his words were prevented by the piercing cry of a hawk. Victor looked up, surprised to hear a hawk that was not his own so close. "Oh…" he stared in awe. "He is breathtaking."

  Above them, circling ever closer, was a hawk with pitch black feathers. Several minute later he alighted on Shahzad's arm.

  "He does not hurt you," Victor said.

  "No." Shahzad stroked the hawk's chest. "Much like your queen, Midnight was not broken or tamed. We helped each other out of a bind several years ago and have been comrades ever since."

  Victor stepped slowly closer, reaching up to present his fingers to the fierce looking Midnight. He examined them curiously, then began to nip at them much as Luna often did.

  "That is not something he has ever done with me," Shahzad said, looking amused. He bit back whatever else he might have said, turning to look out over the valley far below. "We have several hawks trained for hunting, which I will show you, but I thought you might appreciate Midnight more than most."

  "He is beautiful."

  Shahzad spoke softly to his hawk in the strange, lilting language Victor desperately wished he understood. "Hold out your arm," Shahzad said a moment later.

  Victor obeyed and seconds later Midnight was on his arm, reaching out to nip first at his fingers and then at a stray lock of Victor's hair. Shahzad laughed heartily and despite his burning cheeks, Victor could not resist laughing either. "Enough, Midnight. I think perhaps you still have energy that needs worked out." Moving closer to the edge of the cliff, Victor let the hawk launch from his arm. "Powerful. Much fiercer than Luna."

  "Yet I sense Luna could very much hold her own if she felt like it." Shahzad watched his bird a moment longer, then turned back to Victor. "I also brought you out here to discuss your hostage situation."

  "Oh?" Victor sobered. "Is something wrong?"

  "Not at all. We have merely refined the plan. I would have included you, but the less you know, the more authentic you will seem." Shahzad winked. "To start—you are not aware you are a hostage. Neither is Amir. You are both unwitting pawns in a cruel game between the North and the East."

  Victor stifled a laugh. "That is rather horrible of you to do to us."

  "Yes, but these things must be done in the interest of acquiring power, stamping down the enemy… something along those lines." He held out his arm. "Now come, hostage, and we shall have an early supper with my father. He refuses to believe I have been behaving myself all day."

  "I do not think I quite understand this penchant everyone believes you have for misbehaving."

  Shahzad smiled in a way Victor did not quite understand but said nothing to explain. Instead he began regaling Victor with legends and stories of his country, interspersed with anecdotes about his family.

  *~*~*

  Victor woke smiling, but after a few minutes it faded into an uncertain frown. Outside it was still quite early—it looked as though it was still dark. But whatever had woken him, he would not be going back to sleep.

  It was just as well. This early he would have some time alone to think. With daylight came a million distractions that made it all too easy to shove his thoughts aside.

  Thoughts of staying in the East. Only a month had he been here, and it felt as though he could stay forever. Thoughts of Shahzad. For all that he had been certain he was merely infatuated with the prince, Victor was slowly being forced to admit that it was nothing so simple. And he had no idea how to deal with that. When the problems with the West were resolved, his time as an emissary would end. He would return home to his duties as a Northern knight and Shahzad would still be an Eastern prince. Not someone he was likely to see again, let alone spend time with in such an easy and friendly way.

  Climbing from his bed, Victor dressed rapidly—he would never get used to having others dress him, it was just absurd—in a dark grey tunic and white pants, then slipped on his ankle boots and quietly left his room. He moved slowly, silently through the maze of hallways and rooms, nodding occasionally to the guards stationed intermittently throughout the palace. They had long grown used to seeing their "hostage" wandering about at earlier hours and did nothing more than bow.

  Eventually he reached the cliff and released a long, slow breath. Perhaps it would be best not to think about it. He managed just fine when he avoided the unhappy thoughts. Best simply to focus on each day and enjoy what he could get, and ensure he had thousands of memories to relive when he went home.

  He looked up at the cry of a hawk, barely able to see Midnight against the dark gray morning sky. Smiling, Victor stepped forward as Midnight began to spiral down. Too late he heard the rustle of feet on grass and had half-turned to see who else would be out so early when two hands shoved hard at his back, sending Victor tripping, tumbling forward—

  —And over the edge of the cliff. Rocks bit sharply into his side and back before he managed to grab a hold of jutting rocks, arms jarring painfully as they took his weight, barely holding on. Distantly he note
d Midnight was screaming and hoped he was all right, but his immediate concern was his own life. Pale-faced and shaking, Victor scrabbled for purchase with his feet, willing his hands to stop trembling before he sent himself the rest of the way down. He clung to the rock face, breaths ragged, and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down.

  It was not working. Victor took a slow, deep breath, focusing on the fact that he was not falling, that he had a chance of living.

  He looked up and felt a moment of relief to see he had not fallen quite as far as he had feared. If he could just make his limbs move, he might be able to climb up—except it was quite possible whoever had pushed him was still up there waiting on the off chance the deed had not been done. But no one had looked over the edge to check he had fallen, so perhaps they had fled. But if they were up there Victor would not survive being shoved over a second time.

  So best simply to wait until someone noticed his absence. But Shahzad was his most frequent companion, and he did not generally wake before sunrise unless there was some special duty to attend. Jafar and the other soldiers he usually did not see until much later in the morning.

  It looked as though he was going to be here for quite some time. Victor almost laughed as he realized this was why no one had checked that he was dead. Even if the initial attack had not killed him, the waiting would.

  He forced himself to think of something besides how high up he was, the bite of the wind, and how rapidly his hands and arms were tiring. Which was hard because they were rather difficult to ignore…but Shahzad was horribly distracting, even in his mind, and so Victor closed his eyes and thought of Shahzad.

  It was working rather better than he thought if he was imagining he could hear Shahzad's voice.

  "Victor!"

  He looked up, too stunned to speak.

  "Victor," Shahzad repeated, and Victor felt better just listening to him speak. "Hang on. We will get you." Shahzad vanished, and Victor could hear him snapping orders. A moment later three men appeared, lowering a rope while Shahzad supervised, switching between orders and talking to Victor.

  He did not think his hand would let go of the rock, so tightly was he clinging to it. But worse than even falling would be for Shahzad to see him acting like a coward. Slowly, shaking the whole time, Victor managed to take the rope. He held on for dear life, barely thinking to use his feet to keep himself from smashing against the cliff face. It seemed ages before he could smell the grass, and barely had he touched ground than he was held close against a warm, bare chest. If he had not still been shaking with fear and relief, Victor had no doubt he would be six shades of red and falling over himself to get away.

  All right, falling was a bad word.

  "Are you wel?"

  "Y-yes." Victor made himself sit up, though he could not quite bring himself to stand. He looked at Shahzad, then looked quickly away. Later the image of Shahzad bare-chested with his hair loose and messy would drive him insane. "I am fine. I apologize for waking everyone."

  "What happened?"

  The reality of what had occurred finally slammed into him, and Victor looked back up at Shahzad. "Somebody pushed me."

  Shahzad swore as the men around him first went dead silent and then exploded into discussion. Shahzad silenced them with a motion, rising to his feet and forcing Victor up beside him. "Close off the palace grounds. Look for a man with a ruined face—it will have been damaged heavily by Midnight's talons. Find him now!" The soldiers dispersed. Shahzad grasped Victor's arm. "Come, I will take you back to your room and set a guard to watch you."

  "I do not need someone to watch me," Victor protested, humiliated.

  "Someone just tried to kill you," Shahzad replied, and his tone said the matter was over. "They would have succeeded, I think, if Midnight had not attacked him and then come for me. I wondered why he woke me with bloodied talons."

  Victor frowned. "Why? Killing me would do no good."

  "But it would do a great deal of harm. Come, we will speak in your chambers. Not here."

  He had nearly died. At the moment the very last thing his ruined nerves needed was a half-naked Shahzad in his room. What was it Dunstan was always saying? When you least needed snow, you were guaranteed a blizzard. That sounded about right.

  Shahzad paused long enough to speak with the Captain of the Guard, who came racing up. A few minutes later they were in Victor's room, and Victor found himself pressed into his bed. "Rest." A knock at the door prevented Victor's protests, but the visitor turned out to be a servant bearing clothes, so Victor let it slide.

  And he was feeling rather tired, now that the fear was draining from his system. "Why would someone try to kill me?" He watched sleepily as Shahzad drew on a black tunic, the clasps and trim done in silver. He looked strange in such stark clothing, when Victor was used to seeing him wear bright colors. But he was more beautiful than ever, not least of all because his hair was still unbound. It was almost enough to keep his sudden sleepiness at bay.

  "Perhaps for the same reason they tried to kill my brother?" Shahzad frowned and began to pull his hair back, settling for tying it back with a ribbon rather than bothering to braid it. "Something strange is going on here. For all the West knows, we are on the verge of a skirmish, if not outright war, with the North."

  Victor frowned and made himself sit up, stifling a yawn. "Perhaps they are trying to push us into war? But I still do not see the ultimate purpose. The North and West have been on the outs for years. It would have come as no surprise if they had attacked us openly. We have been expecting such a move for years. All this secrecy and attempted misunderstandings make no sense at all."

  "I wonder…" Shahzad murmured to himself. "Rest. Do not leave this room unless I or Jafar accompany you."

  Victor shook his head angrily. "I do not need to be treated like a child, kept in my room unless I've a nanny along."

  "You would rather I write to your fathers informing them of your demise?"

  "I know how to look after myself."

  "Better not to take the chance. Remain here. I will be back shortly." Shahzad strode across the room and drew shut the doors to the balcony that until that moment Victor had not even noticed. It made the room depressingly dark. Shahzad moved to stand before him and pressed him back down on the bed. "Rest." Without another word, Shahzad turned and left.

  Victor woke with a start some time later, looking up through sleep-fogged eyes at Shahzad, noting distantly that his hair had finally been braided. Next he noticed the strange, tight expression on Shahzad's face, which forced the last of the sleepiness from him. "Is something wrong? Shahzad?"

  Shahzad seemed to recall himself from whatever thoughts had taken him. "Everything is fine. I believe we have at last sorted out the strange game the West is attempting to play."

  "Ah," Victor said slowly, making himself get up. "That is good to hear."

  Shahzad frowned suddenly. "You were cut by the rocks. I should have summoned a healer before, forgive me."

  "What?" Victor asked, confused. He sought out the scrapes on his left side, the few scratches on his hand. "Only a few minor injuries. I can tend to them myself."

  "As you wish." Shahzad conceded reluctantly.

  "Anyway—what have you finally figured out?"

  Shahzad moved to the balcony and once more opened the doors. Victor was chagrined to see that he had slept into early evening. He fetched his pouch and set about healing the worst of his injuries while Shahzad spoke. "A few years ago the Southern steward contacted us about a problem. We were told they had discovered a certain plant was being smuggled into their country and was causing a great deal of trouble. The plant in question is only grown here, and it can indeed be quite deadly if it is not properly handled. We of course were horrified and offered our full cooperation in catching the culprits. After three years of investigating and baiting traps, we succeeded."

  Shahzad sat down on a large cushion. "The matter was concluded, and we have kept a closer watch on such matters ever s
ense. For most of us, the affair was over. But my brother continued to correspond with the steward. They have, through their letters, grown quite close." Shahzad smiled. "My father tends to spoil his children, so after making him beg for a bit, he granted Amir permission to go and visit his dear steward."

  "I think I know what happened next," Victor said slowly, "but I still do not see where the West comes into this."

  Shahzad grinned, no small amount of mischief in it. "Ah, but let me elaborate. My brother did not merely beg and plead for the chance to visit. He and my father have always been hopeless romantics. My brother has long professed to be in love with his unseen steward and declared every intention of marrying her."

  Victor blinked. "Quite the risk."

  "You have not seen Amir at his best," Shahzad said dryly. "He misbehaves as much as I. It is only the way in which we misbehave that differs. And my father really has no right to criticize, as he himself was adopted into the royal family and his own wife was a former dancing girl. I am not quite certain what you would call such girls in the North."

  "I think I understand," Victor said hastily.

  "Yes," Shahzad said. "Amir is almost exactly like my father; I always took more after my mother."

  Victor frowned. "Perhaps I am dense, but I still do not see where all this is going."

  "We have been considering ending our isolation for some years. We merely have been deliberating the best way to go about it. The problem with the smugglers was a step in the right direction and we kept relations with the South open. But my brother running off to propose marriage is something else altogether. If the marriage goes through, a tie between an Eastern prince and the Southern steward means our isolation is effectively over—and establishes quite a solid alliance with the South."