“It warms us that your brother and his wife will join us, Pentanimir,” Vot said. “Will the others remain as well?”
“Julaybeim is going to return to Cazaal, but Gali will remain a while longer. He needs to inspect the village and begin to rebuild.”
“Aren’t there men to complete the task in his absence?”
“There are, but as the Caretaker’s son, Julaybeim must meet his obligations not only to his village, but also to his family.”
Huname nodded, glancing at the two. “What about you and Brahanu?”
“Our obligations also take precedence over our desires. Brahanu will return home with Eytan. She’s needed in Cazaal, and I’m needed in Nazil.”
“Obligations, needs, desires,” Huname began. “Most things of the greatest importance also take great effort. We sacrifice some desires for what appears to be the greater good. At times, if we’re patient, a different path might present itself that we hadn’t yet considered.”
Pentanimir feigned a smile. “Perhaps, Elder Huname. We’ll take leave and allow you to continue your preparations. The babes need their mother, and I promised to assist Nurul with the watch.”
Huname’s words repeated in his thoughts as he helped Brahanu in the carriage. ‘Sacrifice’ sounded in his mind. His sacrifice.
“You need to drink the herbs, Brahanu, and I’ll bring Eytan and Tardison. Do you want me to send Ameya as well?”
She shook her head, not meeting his eyes.
“Rest now, and I’ll bring them to you. If Osmara is available, I’ll ask her to come while I assist Nurul.”
Brahanu didn’t speak, she reached for his hands, searching his eyes for the answers welling in her heart.
“Rest,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips, and then walking away from the carriage. Though he yearned to be near her, he needed to accept the truth. His place was in Nazil. After reporting his uncle and brother’s honorable deaths, he’d fulfill his pledge. This was his duty, and he’d see it done.
The smell of frying fish caused Pentanimir to stir. His back ached from the hard ground as he rose up, stretching his tired limbs. Only he and a few other guards still slept near the fire after their watch. With a deep yawn, he stood, shaking the leaves from his pallet.
“Good morrow, Brother, how was your night?” Danimore said.
“Not as good as yours.”
Danimore blushed. “It—it was like nothing that I’ve ever known.”
“I’m pleased for you. I’ve always wanted your happiness above even my own.”
“And I, yours. Why aren’t you sleeping near Brahanu?”
“It wasn’t my place to do so,” Pentanimir said, folding up his blanket.
“Not your place? What about Tardison?”
“Dani, you know that I love Brahanu and our son, but I’m not her husband. She needs to heal, and I must return to Nazil and answer the pledge. This war hasn’t altered my obligations.”
“Nazil? No, Pentanimir, you should stay here with us. No one knows that we’re here. Let them think we died during the war. There’s nothing left for either of us in the white city but misery.”
“It’s always been my duty to return. Even if Brahanu had accepted me, I couldn’t ignore what I’ve pledged to do. If the gods are good, I’ll return to the wood in three to four seasons.”
“Brother—”
“Ah, good morrow, Pentanimir,” Antenah said, handing him some fried fish and bread, unaware of his interruption. “There’s mead in the barrel and my mother has tea. It’s good that you’ve awakened, we’ll be leaving shortly.”
“Thank you, Antenah. I’ll ensure our carriages are ready.”
“Brother, you don’t truly mean to return to Nazil,” Danimore said.
“I do,” he said, pensively. “It’s my sacrifice. Now, tell me about Zeta and Raithym. How are they?”
Danimore’s eyes rolled. “Zeta and Gali are helping Brahanu with the babes while we load the carts.”
Pentanimir laughed, wiping grease from his mouth. “Tending the babes and talking about their husband’s skill as lovers, no doubt. You and Julaybeim were quite loud. I’m glad that your shelters were far from the camp.”
“It—was—enjoyable.”
“Indeed.” He winked. “You’re blessed, Dani, all of you,” Pentanimir said, tossing his bone in the fire. “Now let’s get our carriages loaded and assist with the carts.”
“All right, but I want to discuss your return to Nazil.”
Pentanimir spun around, causing Danimore to nearly collide with him. “There’s nothing to discuss. Brahanu made her choice, and I have my duty. You’re to stay here and keep them safe. This is your duty.” His tone brooked no debate. “I’m not merely returning to answer my pledge. Do you understand?”
Danimore sighed, nodding.
“Good. I’d like you and Zeta to command Brahanu’s carriage and I’ll take Gali, Julaybeim, and Ameya in mine.”
“What? Brahanu would want you with her.”
“It’s not for her to decide,” Pentanimir said louder than he intended. “Forgive me, Dani. Brahanu told me of her heart and her inability to share it with me. It’s taken time, but I understand and accept her decision. She needs time, Brother, time to heal. My love for her will never fade, but I’ll not cause either of us to suffer needlessly. You’ll command her carriage.”
“As you say, Pentanimir.”
After the carts were loaded and tied, Vot ignited a torch from the eternal fire. He walked to each, lighting their torches from his. Snuffing the fire, Aizen and Ahni mounted their horses, trotting to the front. The twins upraised their hands and began moving toward the west wood.
The constant bumps and jerking from the uneven ground awakened Brahanu from her sleep. She glanced around woozily, checking her son’s baskets.
“Did you rest well?” Zeta asked, nursing Eytan.
“Too well, I fear. Are we moving again?”
“We’re heading deeper into the wood. Eytan was hungry, but I didn’t want to wake you. Would you like something to eat?”
“I’m thirsty, but have no appetite for food.”
“We have some fresh water,” Zeta said, handing her the skin.
“Thank you. I thought that Pentanimir would wake me before we took leave.”
Zeta looked at her with empathy, rocking Eytan in her arms. “Pentanimir isn’t driving the carriage.”
“Why isn’t he with Tardison and me?”
“He didn’t think that you wanted him to. Dani says that he’s returning to Nazil soon, and no one can turn him from it.” Zeta rested a hand atop hers, sharing in her grief. “Pentanimir doesn’t feel that you share his feelings, and he doesn’t want to complicate your life with his desires. He’s—he’s going to fulfill his pledge to Denotra.”
“What? No, Zeta, No. He can’t, not now, please. He took my words contrary to their meaning. I want to marry Pentanimir, but needed time. It’s too soon after losing Itai, and I must return to Cazaal with Eytan. I don’t want to lose Pentanimir, surely, he must realize this.” Tears lined Brahanu’s eyes with the dolor pervading her.
“He promises to return within three to four seasons. Mayhaps you could wed at that time. He loves you, Brahanu, and doesn’t want to be without you and his son.”
“No. Don’t you see? If he marries Denotra, I’ll be without him always. What about our son and Eytan? Did he mention them?”
“Dani is going to keep all of us safe. When you return to Cazaal, we’ll take care of Tardison. We’re going to take care of each other. I promise—”
The carriages abruptly stopped, causing Eytan to almost tumble from Zeta’s arms. Steadying herself, she handed him to Brahanu and then stepped out of the carriage.
“Gods,” Zeta said as Danimore protectively pushed her behind him.
“Remain calm!” Vot shouted, stepping down from his cart with upraised hands. “Don’t draw your swords! Remain calm!”
“What are we to do?” Hosdaq w
hispered, staring at the dozens of archers surrounding the caravan.
“I don’t know, Elder. If these are the people said to dwell in the wood, they won’t harm us.”
“Father,” Aizen said. “Here. Someone approaches.”
A small hooded figure advanced toward the caravan, stopping in front of the twins.
“Do not fear, people of Bandari. I am Yemala, pillar of the Guardians. You are now within the borders of Afferea.”
Death and Deception
Jahno leaned back, clenching his eyes shut, struggling against the pleasures of Daracus’ intimate kiss. He was adept at his oral pleasuring regardless of how Jahno fought against it. Gods, why must this overwhelm me so. I mustn’t take pleasure in this , Jahno thought futilely.
“I’ve longed for this, Jahno,” Daracus said, bestriding him. “I love the feel of you.” Daracus moaned, moving Jahno’s hands up to his chest. As he began his stimulation, Daracus called out his name, increasing his motion and bringing them both to completion.
With a staggered breath, Jahno turned his head, refusing to look at his master. Shame covered him as it always did. Not only in committing the act, but more so, the pleasure he received from it.
“Do you require anything else of me, milord?”
Daracus smiled, snuggling in beside him. “I desire you with me.” Laying his head on his chest, Daracus caressed him tenderly, enjoying their closeness.
“There’s much taking place in the lands, my love,” Daracus said. “I’m concerned about some of our men. Oxilon has already fallen, and my father has yet to return. Now, with my sister’s illness, I have only you at my side. You don’t understand how much that means to me, Jahno. I need to portray my strength to our people, but you know of my weaknesses,” he paused, rising up to meet his eyes. “If Father would allow, I’d keep you with me always. I love you, Jahno,” he whispered, drawing him down for a kiss. When a loud thumping sounded from the door, Daracus’ face immediately darkened.
“I said no one should disturb me!” Daracus shouted, rising in the bed.
“Pardons, Sir,” a guard called from the corridor. “We’ve received word about your father. A great threat approaches Nazil.”
Daracus leapt up from the bed, pulling the drapes closed. “Stay here and remain silent,” he ordered, covering his nakedness.
Thank the gods, Jahno thought, wiping the taste from his mouth.
“What news of my father?” Daracus demanded, flinging the door open. After reclining on his divan, he sipped from his cup, watching the guard’s apprehensive approach.
“My…my lord, if the reports are true, much has happened near the cursed wood.”
“I asked about my father, Rowan.”
He bowed nervously. “Yes, Sir, a—a bird arrived from Lempol. They—what they report seems impossible. Slaves—Nazilian slaves fled to Lempol, slaves that once accompanied your father. They tell of great winged beasts, pythonesses, and our men being dropped from the skies. Some were trampled or mauled. I—what—it’s your father, my lord. They say that he’s among them.”
“What do you mean, Rowan? Do we now take the words of slaves as fact?”
“No, Sir, you don’t understand. They, the Caretaker of Lempol, they have your father—his—the Zaxson, my lord, he’s fallen.”
“No…you lie! My father will return to Nazil victorious. There aren’t any in these lands who can defeat him!”
Covering his mouth, Jahno suppressed a gasp. He didn’t know whether to rejoice or mourn the Zaxson’s death. He listened intently, grabbing up his clothes and dressing. Daracus would be in no mood for him, and he feared what might happen.
“The Cha sent the message, my lord.” Rowan’s hand trembled, extending out the parchment and then quickly moving away. “They’re searching for more fallen guards and bringing them back to the village. Only the Zaxson and Chosen were brought to the temple. There’s no doubt, my lord. All of Nazil mourns with you.”
Daracus crumpled the scroll into a ball as tears welled in his eyes. The anger and pain surged up from the pit of his stomach, expelling in a feral yell. Snatching the bottle of wine from the table, he hurled it across the room, just missing the guard’s head.
“Get out!” Daracus shouted. His body trembled with copious emotion, struggling to maintain control.
After the guard fled his chamber, Daracus dropped to his knees. He couldn’t stop his tears or contain the sorrow overwhelming him. Daracus’ cries filled the chamber, causing Jahno to pause. He’d never witnessed anything like this from Daracus, and even knowing his character, his grief touched him.
Jahno pulled back the drapes to see Daracus kneeling on the floor, wailing like a lost child. His heart ached not for the man, but for the pain welling inside of him. He does have a heart after all, Jahno thought. I must do something, or everyone in the citadel could suffer. Jahno finished lacing his trousers, going to Daracus’ side.
He was hesitant, but lowered to the floor, drawing Daracus into a comforting hug. What am I supposed to do? What would ease the heart of someone I truly loved? Jahno contemplated, desperately needing a way to calm Daracus and keep his pain from turning into anger.
After reciting a silent prayer, Jahno leaned away, cupping his face in his hands. When Daracus met his eyes, Jahno kissed him, feeling Daracus give in to that closeness. This is what he wants, Jahno thought, embracing him again.
“I’m sorry, milord, and I grieve with you. Your father was a great and honorable man. We’ll find those responsible and they’ll pay for what they’ve done,” Jahno whispered in his ear.
“They’ll suffer for this,” Daracus wept. “All of them will suffer.”
“Come, milord, we must make you ready. The Council will arrive soon and you must appear unflappable when you face them,” Jahno said, helping him to stand.
“You’ve always been there for me, Jahno. I know that you didn’t desire me in the beginning, but I’ve always loved you. It was never my intention to hurt you in any way. If I could, you alone would be mine as I’m truly yours,” Daracus said, wiping his eyes and kissing him again. Daracus removed his robe, nearly collapsing on the divan.
Jahno couldn’t speak, not now. Pouring a glass of wine, he contemplated what would soothe and comfort Daracus’ heart. As he washed and dressed him, Daracus continued to weep.
Jahno couldn’t believe the grief he felt, witnessing this suffering. He loathed Daracus, but understood the depth of such pain. Gods, help me find the words .
“Milord, when you first revealed yourself to me, I didn’t wish it. But my refusal was wrought from fear and the heartache I felt for my family. I’d never experienced such emotion or sharing myself with another, and...and the punishment for my refusal haunts me still this day. But over time, I enjoyed becoming one with you. Although I’ve been afraid to speak the words, I do love you. I didn’t want to admit that due to your relationship with Micah. It angered me to share you with another when my heart is for you alone. I know my words mean little, but I offer them to you anyway,” Jahno said, hoping his deception was convincing.
A wistful smile crossed Daracus’ face as he clasped his hand. “Your words mean more than you know. Micah could never replace you in my heart. He was only with me for a short time until I found you. The thought that you’d share my heart warms me in ways I can’t express. With everything surrounding me now, this news offers my heart hope.”
Jahno smiled, helping him to stand. Draping a pearl and gold cloak about his shoulders he said, “You’re the Zaxson of Nazil, milord. What would you have of me?”
Afferea
Pentanimir sat alone, listening to the soothing sounds of the falls. He was desperate to understand his true purpose, what the Guardians would have of him. He struggled with his love for Brahanu and his duty for the lands and Nazil. As his eyes closed, he thought of Denotra. She wasn’t who he wanted, but he was pledged and had agreed to honor it.
“Honor,” he whispered. A word spoken too often in Nazil, y
et never truly having meaning.
His eyes reopened with Brahanu’s words repeating in his mind. He understood her apprehension about their marriage, and agreed with the sagacity of her choice. It wasn’t for him to force his desires upon her. Their son was safe, but he’d soon be forced to leave them both. Could his heart endure such a separation? Could he truly leave them here and marry someone as vile as Denotra? Pentanimir decided that the choice was no longer his. For too long, he’d put himself and their love at the forefront of his life. With Itai, he regretted it most of all. In truth, he respected Brahanu’s husband. Howbeit, could he have truly, yet still made love to his wife? The uncertainty of it pained him.
Pentanimir thought himself a different person…a better person. He was First Chosen, and a true man of honor as was his father. He, too, loved another, yet did his duty for Nazil. “Were you as tormented and conflicted as me, Father?”
A small sigh escaped his lips while he contemplated the decisions made, and honor lost. “Brahanu. Eytan. Protect,” he said aloud, as if needing to hear the words from his own lips.
He’d keep the promise that he made to Itai, to his friend, to Brahanu’s husband. He’d never consider him as any less. Pentanimir recognized that returning to Nazil was a way for him to honor that which he’d promised. Only with accepting his rule could he keep Brahanu safe. That rule could only be established through his pledge to Denotra. The irony of that made him laugh aloud. The two were incongruous, yet this is his reality. The first of many sacrifices , he told himself. He had to know where the Nazilian’s hand would next move to keep those he loved from harm. If that meant being without Brahanu and Tardison at his side, he’d make that sacrifice.
The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 68