Bastial Steel

by Narro, B. T.

  Rek chose his own horse against Silvie’s wishes. It was ugly, Cleve thought, gray and white with streaks of brown down its neck and under its belly. Its mouth and knees were black, dark black, darker than Jessend’s hair. From afar, the animal looked filthy.

  Rek chose him because he was “the smartest,” the Elf claimed.

  Silvie tried to argue that the horse was wild, but Rek didn’t care. He led the horse out of the stables without even holding the reins, guiding the animal with a wave of his hand. Then he pushed out his palm and told the horse to lie down. Silvie and the Takary sisters each gasped as the homely horse obeyed, folding down on all fours to let Rek climb on top.

  “Up,” the Elf commanded, and the horse rose.

  Rek fiddled with his hands, trying to find a place to hold onto. When he grabbed the horse’s mane, Silvie started to object, but Rek quickly petted the animal and took the reins instead.

  “I can feel what he doesn’t like,” Rek explained. “I realized as soon as I did it that he didn’t want me grabbing him there.”

  In no time, the Elf was galloping around the range, his horse leaping over low fences and whinnying in joy. Cleve couldn’t help but feel somewhat discouraged, especially when he asked Silvie how long it would take for him to control his horse like Rek.

  “Could be years before your horse is jumping over anything,” Silvie explained.

  Soon, Rek was leading his mount back into the stables.

  “Done already?” Cleve asked.

  “My ass hurts,” Rek answered. “And I don’t think I really need practice with this sort of thing.”

  Now more eager than ever, after seeing what Rek could do with his horse, Cleve asked, “Can you get my horse to trust me any better?”

  Rek shrugged. “I can try.”

  Rek followed Cleve as he trotted around and gave commands to Nulya. The Elf used psyche to help the horse understand what Cleve was commanding.

  “What does Nulya think of me?” Cleve asked after the better part of an hour.

  Rek walked up to place his pale hand on the top of Nulya’s head. “Nothing really, at least not that I can sense.”

  Disappointed, Cleve let out a loud breath. He’d never been one for pets, but Nulya was no pet. She was strong and beautiful, able to carry him many more miles than he could walk in a day. He wanted to take her back to Kyrro. He wanted them to be friends.

  Friends…right. The thought was silly.

  Or is it? I suppose I don’t know enough about horses to tell whether or not we could be friends.

  A loud giggle from Jessend stole his attention, reminding him of something he needed to tell Rek. “Jessend is going to speak to her father about letting us leave,” Cleve said. “She believes if we help them in a battle or some task, then the King will provide us with a ship and a crew.”

  Rek turned to investigate her, showing no sign of excitement. In a low voice, he asked, “Is she one to lie?”

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “Silvie has strong feelings for her,” Rek mumbled.

  “What?” Cleve blurted. “You mean Silvie cares for her like a good friend?”

  Rek shook his head with a pressed grin. “More than that. There’s a strong attraction there. I’m not going to mention it to them, but it was the first thing I noticed. It’s emanating from Silvie like heat from a fire.”

  “What about Jessend?”

  “She’s a bundle of passion. Without a few direct questions, I won’t know which of her emotions are associated with Silvie.”

  “Could it be confusion you’re sensing from her? Lisanda told me her sister’s been confused.”

  Rek nodded. “That could be it.” The Elf put his hand on Cleve’s shoulder. “I’m sensing a much stronger connection toward her from you. You’re not losing interest in my sister, I hope?”

  “No, I care for Reela just as deeply as when we left. But I worry for Jessend. I think we owe it to her to help with whatever we can, which is something I’ve been meaning to speak to you about.”

  Rek lifted an eyebrow as Cleve showed him a serious glance.

  Cleve asked, “How do you feel about helping me prove someone is evil?”

  Rek’s long Elven eyes brightened. “I’m listening.

  Chapter 8

  After divulging his plan to Rek, Cleve was on his way to visit Micah Vail. Getting lost only once, he managed to find the right room through Rek’s instructions.

  He knocked. The door slowly opened to show Micah already walking back to his seat at a table after giving the knob a pull. Cleve caught the door and shut it behind him, waiting for Micah to greet him before speaking.

  Upon second sight, Cleve figured he was right that the King’s adviser seemed to be in his late twenties—about Rek’s age—but with black hair that hung over his forehead instead of the Elf’s dark brown.

  “Just a moment,” he told Cleve as he finished writing.

  Cleve looked around to busy his eyes. There was a set of glass doors letting in the afternoon sun, but in each corner of the room were locked chests remaining in the shadows.

  “I’m glad you came to visit me, Cleve.” Micah stood and held out his hand. “Thank you for keeping my secret. I understand Rek explained to you how important it is that others not know?”

  Cleve nodded, shaking the man’s hand and realizing that Micah’s ears were covered by his hair.

  “Are you an Elf as well?” Cleve asked.

  “No.” Micah moved his hair to show his round ears. “I understand you and Rek are trying to get back to Kyrro.” Micah held out his hand to a chair against the wall. Cleve sat, feeling some soreness from the horseback riding.

  “We are.”

  “But that’s not why you’re here.” Micah had a knowing tone.

  Cleve wondered if he was just a good guesser or he really could tell that from psyche. “No. I have a letter I’d like to reach Kasko Lage, but I’m not sure how to get it to him.” Cleve drew it from his pocket and offered it to Micah.

  As the King’s adviser unfolded it, the corner of his mouth twisted into a grin. “So Jessend has convinced you Kasko is evil?” He spoke emphatically, showing he clearly didn’t believe it to be true. Cleve couldn’t understand how that was possible, given that he was a psychic. Perhaps Micah and Kasko hadn’t spent much time together? Or could Kasko really be so good at disguising himself that he could keep it from a psychic? The thought frightened him.

  “Jessend didn’t say anything,” Cleve explained. “I could tell because he threatened to cut me and then sent me a note soaked in his blood.”

  Micah slowly looked up from Cleve’s letter. “A note soaked in his blood, you said?”

  “Jessend was there when he cut himself to make it.”

  Micah’s face froze in a contorted look of shock. “What did the note say?”

  “There was nothing written on it.”

  Again, Micah didn’t speak, his expression frozen. “And you said he threatened you?”

  Cleve nodded.

  Micah Vail was no longer diverting any attention to Cleve’s letter, not in that moment at least. “What were his exact words?”

  “He said my skin cuts just as easily as anyone else’s. He whispered it.” Cleve hoped that would be enough to convince the King’s adviser, but it didn’t seem to be. Micah’s face was relaxing now, his eyes lowering back to Cleve’s letter to mumble the words on the page:

  “Kasko Lage, if you wish to marry Jessend Takary, then you’ll have to prove you’re a better suitor than I am. Come to the Takary Palace and we’ll settle this in a single day. I’ll present a gift and make a final statement as to why Jessend and the Takary family will be better off with me, and you’ll do the same. Then she and her father will make a final decision.”

  Micah let his hand drop to his side when he finished reading. “You’re sure to lose this. Jessend may choose you, but until you spend more time with the King, he’s sure to pick Kasko, and his decision is more important th
an hers. If you want to win Danvell’s favor, you’re going to need more time.”

  “All I need is for Kasko to come. I can handle the rest.” Cleve was reluctant to tell Micah how he planned to use Rek, at least while the King’s adviser didn’t believe Kasko to be evil. “Can you make sure this letter gets to him?”

  “You might lose Jessend by doing this.”

  “I won’t.”

  Micah tilted his head. “You don’t even love her yet. Why are you so hasty?”

  For a moment Cleve wondered if he could reveal the truth about himself and Jessend to Micah.

  When he remembered the secret he held over the psychic, the decision became easy. “Jessend and I will never be together romantically. Once I remove Kasko from her life, she’ll be free to marry someone else.”

  Micah was shaking his head. “I can tell you have good intentions, but this is the wrong way to go about this.” The psychic sighed. “You remind me of another man your age, Jek Trayden, the King’s Mage. Just like him, you have a kind heart, but you know nothing about nobility.”

  Cleve was about to demand that Micah Vail just send the letter, but Micah held up a hand and spoke before it was necessary. “I’ll make sure this gets to Kasko. But I can’t promise anything after that.”

  “That’s all I need. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me until you see what happens.”

  Cleve left to look for Jessend but found Gerace first.

  “Hello,” he said, not wanting to attempt her name. “Could you tell me where Jessend is?”

  “She’s taking courting lessons with Lisanda right now,” the young servant answered. “They should be done before dinner, and you’ll be expected to join them.”

  “When she’s done, can you tell her I’ll be at the horse range?”

  Gerace nodded and started to leave, stopping to look back over her shoulder. “Most people give me a note when they want a message delivered, just letting you know for next time.” Her tone was a little past polite, on the verge of annoyed even. He wondered if this was just her nature or if it was him specifically who brought out her harsher side.

  “Would you like me to write one for you?”

  “No.”

  She left.

  Cleve originally planned to tell his scheme involving Kasko to Jessend, but as he waited for her while riding Nulya, he figured it would be better to surprise her. She seemed like she might like surprises. And he didn’t need her to be involved for the plan to work.

  When she arrived, Jessend greeted him with a hug. “Gerace gave me the impression you had something to tell me?”

  “I decided to leave it as a surprise.”

  She seemed to be holding in an excited squeal. “When will I find out what it is?”

  “Hopefully within the next few days.”

  Jessend started to pet Nulya. “And how is he treating you?” she asked the horse. Nulya whinnied.

  Cleve rode until the sun began to set. By then, Lisanda had joined Jessend as they sat and talked with Silvie by the stables.

  At one point, Silvie started singing to them. Cleve was too far to hear anything besides the faint tones of a faraway melody, so he paid no attention.

  But after a few circles around the range, Cleve noticed Lisanda sitting with her head in her hands. Jessend had her arm around her sister’s shoulders. Silvie had stopped singing and now was leaning awkwardly over the weeping princess.

  Jessend helped Lisanda up and started to lead her toward the doors of the palace. Cleve noticed the shaking of Lisanda’s shoulders as the level of her weeping increased.

  He rode up to Silvie, who looked ghostly, as if she’d just witnessed a catastrophe.

  “What happened?” Cleve asked.

  “I’m not sure. I was just singing, and halfway through the song she put her head in her hands. I didn’t realize she was weeping until it got so loud that I heard it over the sound of my voice.”

  “What were you singing?”

  “Come Home.” A tear rolled from Silvie’s unblinking eye. “It’s a song about a man making a choice to leave home to fight the desmarls. He doesn’t come back when he says he will, and his wife is singing for him to return, begging for him to stop this fight for everyone else and start his fight for her, for them.”

  Cleve didn’t understand. But it was Jessend’s first betrothed who was killed by the desmarls, not Lisanda’s. Why was she the one crying?

  “Can you tell them I’m sorry?” Silvie was nearly pleading, her guilt palpable.

  “I will.” Cleve handed Nulya off and went inside the palace.

  He tried Lisanda’s room, knocking and waiting for an answer.

  “Who is it?” Jessend asked.

  “It’s Cleve.”

  Jessend cracked open the door. “You should come back later.” She started to shut the door.

  “Silvie wanted me to apologize for her.”

  “He can come in,” Lisanda said from inside.

  Jessend pulled open the door, showing Cleve a solemn invitation by making just enough space for him to come through. She shut the door behind him and locked it.

  Lisanda was hunched over her crossed legs, huddled on her massive bed. Her room was unlike Jessend’s. There were no weapons on the walls, replaced instead by brightly colored paintings. In fact, everything seemed to be vividly colored in the room, making Cleve realize how dark Jessend’s room really was in contrast.

  “Should I say something to Silvie?” Cleve asked hesitantly. He dearly hoped they wouldn’t ask him to scold her. He wouldn’t even know how.

  “We’re not upset with her,” Lisanda answered. “She didn’t know what she was singing was so painful.”

  Cleve showed his confusion with a glance to Jessend. “Silvie told me about the song,” he said. “Does she not know about your first betrothal?”

  Jessend shook her head. “Silvie is still new here. She’s only been the stable master for a few weeks.”

  A few weeks? Cleve almost blurted. He would’ve guessed she’d known Jessend for years from the way they interacted. Although, Jessend had treated him the same way.

  I guess it isn’t that strange for her.

  “So she certainly didn’t know about Jek.” Lisanda let out a whimper. “That damn song. I don’t think I can ever listen to it again. Every time I used to hear it, I would feel your pain.” She spoke to Jessend. “And that was enough to make me cry. Now there’s my own ache mixed into it.”

  Jessend sat next to Lisanda, putting her hand on her sister’s back. “Jek Trayden is the King’s Mage,” Jessend explained to Cleve, “which is basically the top position for any mage working for our father. But there’s some trust issues between him and our father. Lisanda told me all about it.”

  “We care for each other deeply,” Lisanda said plainly, as if she were listing what she had for breakfast. “But my father doesn’t believe it’s genuine. When Jek was first hired, we were spending all of our free time together. My father kept claiming he was only pretending to be interested in me because he has some sort of revenge planned.”

  She fluttered her hand in disgust. “And Father thinks my mind is twisted from a poison I’d consumed before Jek came to the palace. It’s a long story that I won’t get into right now.”

  Jessend nodded. “It really is, but very interesting and romantic.” She used her arm to scrunch Lisanda’s shoulders.

  “I can tell you later,” Lisanda said, as if she thought Cleve was interested to hear. He decided it would be better not to tell her that he didn’t care.

  “Anyway,” Lisanda continued, “Jek and my father got into many arguments. And then there was the worst one of all. Jek demanded to know how he could prove his loyalty to me and our family. He was sick of the accusations. My father told him to bring back ten desmarl eyes, and Jek agreed, soon leaving while consumed by rage.”

  Lisanda’s gaze sank to her crossed legs. “He promised he would be back…and went, just like that. I couldn’t change his
mind.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Men can be so stupid in their stubbornness.”

  “I assume it’s no easy task to get desmarl eyes?” Cleve asked.

  He noticed a tear fall from Lisanda’s lowered face. “It would probably be easier to stop a war than to get ten desmarl eyes.”

  “He practically stopped a war before if Zav’s army really had been planning to attack us.” Jessend rubbed Lisanda’s back. “He’ll be back.”

  Is she referring to him kidnapping that boy prince?

  Cleve didn’t ask, figuring it wasn’t the right time. Though, now he had to admit to himself he was curious about this mage.

  “I’m sorry, Lisanda,” Cleve said, not wanting to see her in so much pain. “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Tell Silvie not to be upset with herself,” Lisanda answered, a slight smile forming finally. “She didn’t do anything wrong, and she has a beautiful voice.”

  Jessend nodded. “She does, that show-off. Did you see how she jumped when we mentioned music?”

  Lisanda let out a quick sniffle and then a giggle.

  Chapter 9

  Jessend didn’t invite Cleve into her room that night, either.

  He didn’t realize how much harder it was to sleep on his own until he’d been with Jessend…when he’d dug up everything that had been buried for years.

  He thought he’d found everything, but fragmented memories laced with a mixture of pain and happiness kept sprouting up like old skeletal remains. He’d uncover the trace of something, wanting to investigate it further, but not without Jessend there—never on his own. He wasn’t ready for that.

  He found himself in a storm of confusion, with memories popping into his mind, and he wasn’t sure whether to fight them back or accept them along with the pain that came with them.

  He found little comfort in his soft bed until his thoughts went to Reela. It hurt to realize he might be becoming the warrior he’d always despised—a weak warrior who prioritized women over training.

  But it’s not women, he corrected himself. Just one woman.