And So It Begins

by R. G. Green

  Kherin looked at him sharply, though Gresham’s nerves had apparently settled now that the dreaded part of his visit was over, and so he didn’t flinch under the prince’s glare.

  “Northerners have been seen there as often as they have here,” he went on evenly. “And they have been trying to cross more often there than here. And they may have succeeded.”

  Kherin stood now, staring at the Defender Leader. “What—?”

  “It seems one of the Lorn Defenders has been in league with the northerners. Maybe more than one, but the one is known for sure. What they are not sure of is how much help the northerners have been given.”

  “How do they know this?” Kherin demanded, and he didn’t miss the nervous tic that twitched in the Leader’s jaw.

  “He was caught speaking to the northerners. In their own language.”

  Kherin was stunned. “How?”

  “A second Defender followed him out of the camp and saw the traitor Defender, a man named Korlon, standing in the middle of the river, speaking to the northerners on the far bank in their northern tongue.” Gresham paused and faced Kherin squarely. “The Defender who witnessed it said they were engaged in conversation, not passing threats.”

  Kherin continued to stare in silence, so the Defender Leader went on.

  “The Defenders in Lorn don’t understand the northern tongue any more than we do, so they don’t know what was said, but they are sure it wasn’t a confrontation. The only thing that was said enough times for him to remember was the word ‘Akhael’.”

  Kherin’s eyes narrowed. “So what does it mean?”

  Gresham shrugged. “Nobody knows. No one has ever heard the term.”

  Kherin straightened, causing Gresham to do the same, and their eyes were level as Kherin met the Leader’s squarely. “I want to talk to Korlon. If he can’t be brought here, I’ll go to—”

  “He’s dead.”

  Kherin froze.

  Gresham sighed, losing his posture as the nervousness he had shown earlier returned. “He knew he had been caught in the act of treason, and so, rather than be taken alive, he killed himself. Thrust his sword through his heart right there in the river. He was dead when the Defender who had seen him fished his body out of the water.”

  Kherin felt the frustration welling up again. “What about the northerners?”

  “They retreated when the second Defender appeared. That area of the river is wooded on both sides. Probably the reason they met there, thinking the trees would hide them. I don’t think they considered how the trees would hide any Defenders who happened to be approaching. The northerners vanished into their plains before Korlon finished thrusting his sword.”

  Kherin turned away from the Leader, then sat on the edge of the bed. They had been betrayed by Llarien men—by his father’s own men. Was that why the attacks had only just begun here at Gravlorn, because the northerners had already found help at Lorn? But why would the Defenders do it? What could the northerners possibly offer them to make betrayal of their own country possible?

  “Who is he?” Kherin demanded then, swinging back to face him. “The Defender who caught them. What’s his name?”

  Gresham flushed as he broke eye contact with the prince. “The message didn’t say.”

  Kherin hissed out a curse as he turned away again, but spun back when Gresham cleared his throat.

  “There is one more thing. They believe Korlon was actually a northerner himself.”

  Kherin’s stare turned frozen.

  “There is no telling what those animals look like under all their fur,” Gresham went on hurriedly. “Chances are they could pass for Defenders once they shaved it all off. But mostly, they believe he was a northerner because he spoke the northern tongue. Korlon would have been the first Defender I’ve heard of that could speak it.”

  A hollow feeling developed in Kherin’s stomach, quickly filled by a twisting feeling of nausea. It didn’t take an incredible leap of wisdom to see how it could happen. Defenders were rotated regularly, with men from the inner kingdom coming and going from the Defender cities every three months. All the northerners had to do was learn the rotation, then slip one of their own in when the new companies arrived. He himself didn’t know all of the Gravlorn Defenders, other than those from Delfore. It would have been so easy….

  “How is it that this northerner knew the Llarien tongue?” The thought came so suddenly to Kherin that Gresham recoiled at the snapping of his voice.

  “They don’t know that either,” Gresham answered hurriedly.

  But Kherin did. Because northerners were already in the kingdom, and had been for a long time. Long enough to learn the language. Gresham was right on one count, however. It was just an assumption they wore their hair long and dressed in animal skins as some sort of sign they were northerners. If they shaved off their hair, dressed in Llarien clothes, and spoke the Llarien tongue, would anyone know the difference? It was a chilling thought, but the only explanation.

  “I’m spreading the word to all the Defenders here and sending the message on to Oxlan,” Gresham said after a moment, shifting his stance and drawing the prince’s gaze back to where he stood.

  “How do you know the Defenders here aren’t northerners in disguise?” Kherin demanded. His tone was deadly serious.

  Gresham’s face colored again. “We don’t, my lord.”

  No, we don’t. The twisting in his stomach increased, leaving him feeling as helpless as the Defender Leader no doubt did.

  “I need a messenger,” he told Gresham, suddenly and bluntly. “I will send a message to the king and inform him of the situation here. Meanwhile, tell the Defenders to gather in the compound. All of them. I’ll save you the trouble of spreading the word by speaking to them myself.”

  Gresham looked at him a moment, then slowly nodded. “As you will, my lord.” He saluted before turning to leave, and the sickroom remained utterly still until the door closed behind him.

  Kherin waited until he was sure the Leader was gone, then sank once more onto his brother’s bed. He leaned his elbows on his knees, rubbing his face.

  “What will you tell them?”

  Kherin sat up sharply. Derek leaned on the doorframe, watching him calmly. Kherin hadn’t even been aware the door had opened a second time.

  “You heard?” he asked, shifting so he faced his brother rather than the trader. He leaned over when Adrien moved slightly, and grasped his shoulder until he stilled. He felt, rather than saw, Derek move to Adrien’s other side, but avoided looking at his face as the trader adjusted the pillows beneath Adrien’s head.

  “I heard enough.”

  “I don’t know,” Kherin answered, letting out his breath. “If northerners are here, the Defenders need to know. But telling the Defenders will also warn any northerners in the city they’ve been found out.”

  Derek didn’t answer immediately, though the hand he swept through the prince’s hair made Kherin look up sharply. Neither of them had brought up what had happened inside the hospice and out of it while Derek had walked with Kherin on patrol. It was also true that whatever it was that had erupted between them since the subject of the way-stop had been brought to light had been easy to disregard while the vestiges of duty took prominence. Now, however, there was no duty to hide behind, and Kherin worried Derek would opt for distance rather than a repeat of yesterday’s reckoning. But it was only the warmth and affection that was so familiar that he saw in Derek’s eyes when he looked at him…

  Along with the glimmer of mischief that made them sparkle in the dim light of the sickroom.

  “Pretend you don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?” Kherin asked him cautiously. “The rumors will already be spreading about the northerner in Lorn.”

  “Pretend you don’t know that northerners could be in Gravlorn,” Derek clarified, smiling easily. “If they are here and they hear you, as long as you pretend you don’t know about them, they will believe their disguise is intact.�
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  “Which it is,” Kherin added firmly, though the wisdom in the trader’s words began to form solid thoughts in his mind. The rumors would be enough for the northerners to guard their movements if they were inside the camp, but Kherin’s feigned ignorance of their presence would keep them from fleeing. And while there was no doubt they would move more cautiously afterward, they would still move. And as long as they moved, they could be found. He studied the trader’s eyes as Derek watched the understanding take hold.

  “So just give an encouraging speech and tell them be on their guard should the northerners try to invade?”

  Derek shrugged slightly, though his smile was approving as he straightened. “If the enemy thinks they have you fooled, it’s usually best to ensure they keep that belief intact.”

  Kherin let out a small laugh. His relief at having the beginnings of a plan chased some of the fear from his heart, while his relief that Derek wasn’t going to abandon him, despite the words they had exchanged the night before, lifted his spirits enough to keep the smile on his face.

  “Are you hungry?” Derek asked then, changing the subject easily he as met Kherin’s smile with a wink. “It will take a little time to gather the Defenders, so we should have time enough to find a meal.” He looked at Kherin critically. “You could also use a bath. If you are going to present yourself to the Defenders, you shouldn’t overwhelm them with your smell.”

  Kherin shook his head with a soft snort in reply, and then gave his brother a last cursory tending before joining the trader on the other side of the bed. Their eyes met for just a moment, and Derek’s smile softened as he touched the prince’s cheek before turning to move toward the door. Kherin grabbed his cloak and followed the trader to the streets outside.

  The early evening air was crisp with the onset of winter, and though the sun had never broken through the clouds, at least the threat of storms had finally passed. Derek stopped with their first step out of the hospice, and Kherin waited as the trader pulled his gloves tighter, watching him breathe deeply against the chill in the air. Even the outdoors in winter agreed with the trader, Kherin noted enviously, and when Derek had finished, he turned to Kherin and gave him a lopsided grin.

  Kherin shook his head. “Lead on,” he said lightly, gesturing at the city before them. “You’ve spent more time in these streets than I have, so I guess I’m forced to trust your judgment.”

  “Your wish is my command,” Derek answered with mock seriousness and a half bow. He ended it with a wink and a mischievous tilt to his lips. “But don’t expect it to last.”

  KHERIN’S speech elicited the reactions he expected: stunned surprise from those who had not yet heard, knowing nods from those who had, and offended airs from those who had heard but had been forced to leave their activities in the city to come here and hear it again. Gresham had done a surprisingly good job of assembling all of the Defenders who were not on duty, though it had taken well into evening to do so. And despite Kherin’s asking, Derek had flatly refused to give the speech for him, and had actually laughed the third time Kherin had suggested it. Kherin hadn’t suggested it again.

  Instead, the trader had positioned himself near the back of the assembly, leaning against the wall of a storage building where he could stand in the shadows instead of in the light cast by the central campfire. Jarak stood with him, and they kept up a quiet conversation as Kherin spoke, both of them seemingly content to let Kherin handle this on his own. Kherin kept his tone informative and did his best not to sound accusing or threatening. Derek had warned him how simple words could be taken out of context, and how they would watch his actions even closer than they listened to his words.

  Once the speech had ended, the Defenders dispersed immediately, some keeping in groups that undoubtedly headed back to the city, while others moved toward the barracks or the kitchen. But it was obvious the speech had created a number of discussions among them, and Kherin felt them watching him as he made his way to where Derek and Jarak waited.

  “Well done, my lord,” Jarak greeted him, his words accompanied by the appropriate salute. He was about the same height as Derek, only a little taller than Kherin, though he was more heavily muscled than either of them thanks to his duties as blacksmith. He was also quite a bit older, with gray streaking the blackness of his hair and beard, though both were still full and thick.

  “Thank you, Jarak,” Kherin answered, returning the salute. “I just hope they were listening.”

  Jarak nodded, exasperation clear in the look he cast around the camp. “So do I, my lord.”

  With Jarak being from Delfore, Kherin knew he had no illusions about the state of the defense of Gravlorn. That was very likely what he and Derek had been discussing during Kherin’s speech. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the blacksmith took his leave, and Kherin turned with Derek to head back to the healer’s quarters.

  “You carried that off pretty well,” Derek told him quietly once they were out of earshot of the others. He added teasingly, “We might make a public speaker out of you yet.”

  “Don’t even try,” Kherin warned. “The moment I think you’re serious is the moment I humiliate the entire royal family by getting drunk out of my mind and running naked through the streets until dawn.”

  Derek raised an amused eyebrow. “You would embarrass your entire family lineage just to get out of presenting formal speeches?”

  “Without a second thought.”

  Derek laughed at his conviction. “I hope your father realizes that, and therefore knows better than to saddle you with the responsibility. And even if he doesn’t, it’s certain he’ll only saddle you with it once.”

  Kherin grunted his assent. “My point exactly.”

  They found the streets were more populated than usual on the trek back to the hospice, though Kherin ignored the looks cast toward him as he passed. He opened the door of the healer’s quarters to allow Derek to enter first, though Derek let the prince approach the sickroom door ahead of him.

  Both froze when they stepped inside.

  Adrien sat on his sickbed, legs over the edge, awake and somewhat alert. The humor he had been sharing with Derek vanished as Kherin moved quickly to his bedside, barely concealing his relief and joy as he sank onto the edge. He touched his brother’s arm and laid his other hand lightly on his back just below the bandages that still covered the ragged cut. When Adrien managed a small smile in his direction, Kherin’s heart sang. Derek appeared on Adrien’s other side, dropping to a crouch in front of the elder prince, laying his hand gently on Adrien’s knee. The trader was smiling when Adrien turned enough to meet his eyes.

  “Welcome back,” the trader told him softly. Adrien took a deep breath and nodded his thanks, and the smile Derek turned on Kherin showed that their joy—and relief—was shared.

  But Kherin’s smile wavered slightly as he turned back and studied his brother. Awake though he was, he still bore the appearance of illness and the toll of extended bed rest. But at least he wasn’t in pain. The healer had come and gone in their absence, and Kherin hid his scowl when he noticed the packages of powders that had been left on the table and the pitcher of water beside them. He wanted more than anything to throw them in the river.

  The feel of fingers brushing the hair over his ear drew his attention inevitably back to the trader, and though Derek apparently spoke to them both, he eyes didn’t stray from Kherin.

  “I need to see what is happening now that you’ve left the camp, since words are likely to be more honest when spoken behind your back. I’ll return, but I can’t say how quickly.”

  Kherin nodded in both understanding and gratitude, and Derek answered him with an acknowledging wink before turning to speak a few soft words to Adrien. Then his fingers swept Kherin’s hair again as the trader rose to leave, and the brothers remained silent until the door closed behind him.

  Adrien then turned to Kherin with a look of curiosity mixed with an unquestionable certainty. “I see you and Derek a
re managing well,” Adrien said. The scrape of his voice was barely above a whisper, though the amusement in it was clear nonetheless. “And since you’re not under guard or chained to the castle walls, I take it Father doesn’t know?”

  His cheeks flamed at the candidness of Adrien’s words. “Derek’s not sneaking his way into my bed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he managed.

  Adrien’s laugh was quiet and brittle, but nevertheless real. “I would think it more likely you would be sneaking your way into his. I swear you fell in love with him when you were six and have been pining after him ever since.”

  Kherin’s face grew hotter, but Adrien squeezed his hand lightly as his laughter faded to a smile. “It was there for anyone who bothered to look, and there to hear if you listened to the right castle gossip, so I wouldn’t count on Father being completely unaware of it.” If Adrien was aware of the sudden wariness that Kherin felt at his words, he didn’t acknowledge it, but only added softly, “And I take it Derek—?”

  “Yes,” Kherin answered immediately, though he had to look away when the half-truth of that answer formed a knot in his stomach. “No,” he amended quietly, not meeting Adrien’s eyes. The explanation of Derek’s feelings and the reasons he wouldn’t act on them was given in short, blunt terms, and Kherin couldn’t keep his own bitterness about those reasons out of his voice, even if Adrien said nothing. Kherin didn’t know what he was expecting from Adrien when his words ran out, but it hadn’t been the long-suffering sigh he heard. He looked at his brother just in time to see Adrien slowly shake his head.

  “Ah, Kherin, you were never one to take the easy course, were you?” He stopped Kherin’s argument with another small smile. “There are far worse people than Derek to set your heart on, and none I would consider better. Just don’t expect Derek to throw caution to the wind just to tumble you into bed. And don’t expect him to let you do it either. We both know he won’t.”

  Adrien’s seeming acceptance, combined with the stark reminder that Derek had valid reasons for keeping Kherin at a distance, turned the knot in his stomach rather than released it. He should have expected warnings to come from Adrien as well as Derek, and the fact that Adrien was awake to give them….