Divided

by Rae Brooks

  Ryo’s eyes widened as he stared at the ring, and the sapphire that sat on the outside of it. He couldn’t contain his sharp exhalation of air, though, when he saw the dried blood all along one side of the ring—some of it having just reached the sapphire. “Taeru,” Ryo choked, and he staggered back, putting a hand over his mouth.

  The messenger smirked towards Ryo, and then his attention returned to Veyron. Unfortunately, this was different. Aela had not formally renounced her royal name. She had not left with any sort of formality. Taeru had taken all obligation from his father, renounced his name, publicly, openly. He had apologized, and he had torn himself from their family. Taeru was not, by law, Veyron’s son. Veyron knew that, and he knew that he had no obligation to pursue this. After all, Taeru Lassau wasn’t his little girl. Taeru had, by any stretch of the imagination, gotten himself into this.

  Perhaps Veyron wouldn’t pursue it. He stared at the messenger impassively, and Ryo couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Veyron was not the type to withhold his emotions when he had them, so this probably meant that Veyron wasn’t feeling much of anything. But Taeru. Ryo couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his brother in Lavus’s hands. A million memories assaulted him. The little boy that Ryo had chased around for shifts, begging him to stop, and laughing because he enjoyed it. The boy who had shooed Ryo off to fraternize with girls while he took care of Aela. The boy that Aela had loved, worshipped, and the man that had stood in front of a court of men and claimed with no uncertainty that Ryo would make a king like none before him. Taeru Lassau.

  Ryo had always let his mind have peace, knowing that his brother was more formidable than any other person he’d ever met. He had always assured himself that wherever Taeru was, he was happy, and he was safe. Seeing the blood on that ring, Ryo felt bile rising in his throat. Why were you in Telandus, brother? Why?

  The memory played back across his brain, standing at the door of Taeru’s room as he gathered his things. “Brother, where are you going? Why are you leaving? We need you in Cathalar. Everyone here adores you.”

  “I can’t stay, Ryo. There is… I’m supposed to leave. I can’t stop this war in Cathalar. Father grows angrier by the sun. You too, I see it in your eyes. I don’t blame you. I just… I feel like if I go… get away from this, then… maybe… you will make a wonderful king, brother.”

  “Taeru… I will miss you.”

  “And I, you.”

  “Aela…”

  “I know…”

  Ryo closed his eyes, fighting off the thoughts. For the first time, Ryo realized that he was glad that his sister was not here. She would not have been able to bear this. He didn’t want to imagine her reaction to this. “Taeru is not a prince of Cathalar, not anymore. Lavus has nothing,” one of the guards sneered. An obvious defense, but Veyron’s eyes moved to him briefly. Echoing his thoughts, perhaps?

  “It is your choice, of course. I doubt he will live to see you arrive even if you do. His majesty doesn’t much like hi—augh…” The man’s mouth fell open, just as Veyron’s sword cut through his throat.

  “For every harm that my son has come to, every soul in Telandus will suffer it a million times over.” Blood spilled from the messenger’s lips, and with one slice, Veyron decapitated the messenger.

  A few of the guards gasped, and a few of them laughed, and all of them applauded briefly. “Anaval,” Veyron said suddenly, “gather your things, take this man’s head and deliver it to the guards of Telandus. Tell them to present it to their king. And that his precious war is upon him.”

  “Right away, sir,” the messenger bowed his head and hurried his horse back towards the castle, no doubt to prepare.

  “The rest of you, prepare for war—you will not remain here much longer. Taeru Lassau is as much my son as Ryo, all of his honor and then some could not change that.” Veyron trembled with anger. “Ryo, the choice is yours, I can’t leave this city unattended. Either I remain and you lead the charge, or you remain and I will.”

  “He is my little brother,” Ryo said, and his words were so filled with agony and passion that he hardly recognized it.

  Veyron nodded his head in understanding. “Then, I only ask that you let me see him again.”

  “As you say, my lord,” Ryo said, with a quick bow. There was a quick admiration for his father, and then he mounted and started back towards the castle.

  My little brother—at Lavus Tsrali’s mercy. Ryo felt sick, and he felt faint. The most agonizing of all thoughts. How had Taeru ended up in this situation? What had he done? Taeru wasn’t careless, so he must have done this out of necessity. I love you, brother. Please, please, hold on.

  “To show a love so powerful was dangerous and fantastic.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.ii

  Chapter xlv

  Lee Keiichi

  Lee was miserable. On every possible account, he was miserable—and he had been that way for nearly two cycles. The shock of seeing Calis, his friend, bound and jerked around like a ragdoll had been jarring enough, but Lee had been foolishly worried enough to go to the dungeon. Seeing Taeru Lassau’s quivering form whimpering and keening as Tareth broke every bone in his hand—had left Lee sleepless for several moons.

  Sleeplessness, however, was not alright. Ordinarily, he would have used it to be productive, but there seemed to be nothing he could do to help Calis or Taeru. Lavus would not let him see Calis—they had no rapport. Lavus did not trust Lee, not much, anyway. Lee had never seen a reason to try and gain the monster’s trust. But now, he needed it. He needed access to Calis’s room, since there was no way in the world he would get Taeru out of that guard-riddled dungeon.

  Lee knew he was running out of time. The messenger from Cathalar had arrived last moon, and as predicted, Veyron was livid at the capture of his son. Lee was glad to know that one of the rulers of either of the elite lands had a heart. Taeru—of all people—did not deserve torture. His only fault was being naïve and foolish. He should never have risked speaking those words so publicly. Taeru, though, was not deceitful, he had done nothing but good for Telandus since he had arrived. And he had done nothing but good for Calis. Oh, Calis must be miserable.

  Lee could only be grateful for the fact that Lavus had not subjected his son to witnessing Taeru’s torture. Surely, though, Calis’s mind was more than handling that.

  Lee was at a loss. The war would soon be upon them, and Taeru would be hanged—if Lee couldn’t figure something out. He needed to establish trust with Lavus, but he didn’t know how. He had given every piece of information that he could to try and gain it. Well, save one. Save one because he’d known that the information would condemn Taeru to torture so much worse than what he currently faced.

  The Phantom Blade. The information would be relevant, and Lavus would like to know it. Lavus, after all, did know that there was a vigilante. He had eyes and ears in nearly as many places as Lee did. A good thing, then, that he had not come to the conclusion that Lee had recently. Taeru was not the only Lassau in Telandus—his sister was here too. Her mission a little less altruistic, but understandable. She had disappeared from Cathalar recently, and the guards had been unable to find her.

  Lee knew where she was, but that information was far too sacred to reveal. Aela was too precious to be captured, and Lee knew that. After all, who condemned a girl to torture? Then again, he felt as though he’d condemned Taeru to it—and he was going to have to start it all over again. The information on the Phantom Blade was the only card he had left—and he had to play it. Taeru might take more of a beating, but if Lee said nothing, then Taeru would die and the war would move forward, unhindered.

  That was it—he had to tell Lavus what he knew. Without another thought, he abandoned his room, glancing warily towards the two guards that were stationed outside of Calis’s. Oh, Calis… please forgive me. Grabbing the first servant he saw, Lee spoke with undeniable authority. “Go retrieve his majesty. Tell him Lee Keiichi has very relevant information, and that I will meet him in
the throne room.”

  The servant nodded his agreement and hurried off down the hall. Lee moved to the throne room as quickly as he could. He tried to force the image of the crying Taeru from his mind, but it continued to flash before his eyes. To no one’s surprise, Taeru had revealed nothing. Even under the most gruesome of tortures, he had said nothing. Lee doubted Lavus would deliver to Taeru how angry Veyron had apparently been upon discovery that his son was in trouble. The messenger’s head was a bit excessive, if Lee had been handling the situation—but it made its point.

  In addition, the Cathalari messenger had been much more intelligent. He had delivered the goods in a box, with the message, and he had vanished before anyone realized what was in it. Unlike the Telandan messenger, whose head had been sent back in a box. Did Cathalar have superior everything, Lee wondered? Rather, perhaps Cathalar just wasn’t as arrogant as Telandus was, which was the reason for their superior strength.

  The majority of the reason that everyone knew Cathalar would win the war, was that everyone realized that the other nations would come to Cathalar’s aid—not Telandus’s. And now Lavus was torturing an innocent boy in the dungeon to try and exact his revenge on Cathalar before the war ever started. Lee could only imagine how frightened Taeru must be by this point, and yet he remained silent.

  As time passed, Lee found himself hoping that Tareth would not accompany his father to the throne room. He would, though, because he wanted to be involved in this. Though, despite his best efforts, Lavus was not showing him much favor. Granted, he wasn’t locked in his room like his brother—but even now, he was considered the lesser man. And he was, so that was one thing that Lavus got correct.

  Tareth would come, though, and that was what Lee was concerned about. Lavus wouldn’t be overly concerned with Taeru’s role as the Phantom Blade, and his trust in Lee would soar for it. But Tareth, Tareth would want revenge against the brave vigilante that had made him a fool so many times. Taeru was going to be in a much greater amount of danger after Lee relayed this information, so he would have to use his newfound trust against Lavus quickly. The problem was—he couldn’t simply give the information and then ask to be let into Calis’s room. That was pathetically obvious. Lee took a long breath. Calis’s glare flickered through his head, and he ignored it. It’s this or let him die, Calis. This is the only choice I have.

  A few moments later, Lavus entered, followed by his weak-minded son. Lee’s mouth twitched downward into a grimace. There went any false hope he’d been clinging to. Oh well, not as though Lavus wouldn’t have relayed the information. Both of their eyes were on Lee, though Lavus’s gaze was the only one that held any merit. Lee held his eyes firmly and strongly. “Your majesty,” he said with an overly formal bow. He wished he’d had more practice at this sort of behavior.

  “What is this about, Keiichi? Have you discovered another piece of information?” Lee’s eyes flickered idly to the amulet still hanging about Tareth’s neck. Still there—was Tareth really such a fool? Lee was glad. “Have you come across something else?” Lavus persisted.

  “No, my lord. I’m afraid I have been withholding a piece of information from you. I was hoping Prince Calis would come around, but as it appears that he will do no such thing, I feel the burden of this falls to me.”

  They both looked interested, Lavus’s eyes were burning. This would do it—Lee would get access to Calis by telling them this. This information would hurt Taeru, it would hurt him badly, and they knew that Lee knew it. He took a breath, swallowing any reservations that he had. He had to keep this boy alive. Lee only wished that it wasn’t at the cost of the young prince’s welfare. “Speak freely, and I appreciate your understanding,” Lavus said. He sounded much less cold than usual.

  “Taeru Lassau, or Kilik, as he was known in Dark District… is more than you think he is. He is the vigilante that has been causing problems to the nobles that have gone to Dark District. The Phantom Blade.” Oh, the words tasted terribly in his mouth. And the look in Tareth’s eyes. The smug, sadistic, cruel satisfaction playing in his eyes. Lee wanted it back—he needed another way. He hadn’t expected that, not to such a degree.

  Tareth, with that look still holding true, turned to his father. “You may not be informed of this boy. He is a…”

  “Oh, do not be a fool, Tareth. I have eyes and ears all throughout this city. That is why it is mine. I know of this boy. I know that he has embarrassed you on multiple occasions.” Tareth flushed. Lee couldn’t even bring himself to be satisfied—after all, Taeru was in the dungeon, the perfect scapegoat upon which Tareth could extract his vengeance.

  Tareth shifted uncomfortably. “Apologies, Father. But, will you at least understand my need to exact revenge upon him, then?” Tareth’s voice was fearful, which was bad, as Lavus would feed on that.

  After a few moments, Lavus chuckled darkly. “Certainly, Tareth. Handle him for the sun. Try not to let him make a fool of you again. And, if his submission comes from this—then, perhaps I will name you crown prince.” A strangled noise escaped Lee’s throat, and he had to cover it up as a cough.

  No, Lavus would never give Tareth the title, and Tareth would never gain submission—but oh, that would mean he’d try harder. The gleam in his eyes was terrifying. “I will not disappoint you, Father.”

  “I’m fairly sure you will,” Lavus said. Tareth flinched, but he was too fueled by what the next sun would bring to fall far. “And Keiichi, I had misgivings about you, as you were the advisor to my less than dependable son, but you have more than proven yourself a trustworthy and valuable asset.” Lee nodded—the answer he’d been hoping for—but it was scarcely much consolation, now. “Tareth, be effective, if you can manage—we are running out of time, as I estimate the army will arrive in a little over another cycle.”

  There had to be somewhere Lee could stay nearby. He had to make sure this didn’t go too badly. As of right now, he had no reason to request to see Calis, and until he thought of one—he was at a loss. He bowed, as Tareth headed back out of the room. Taeru… Calis, I’m so sorry.

  “Prince, peasant or princess—the Hero could not discern the future.”

  -A Hero’s Peace v.i

  Chapter xlvi

  Taeru Lassau

  The few moments Taeru had of calm were over. The calm hadn’t been very comfortable, as he was dangling from the ceiling by his wrists—but at least he hadn’t been being ferociously beaten for a few precious moments. Unfortunately, the footsteps sounding in the distance alerted him to the fact that it was all about to start again. His arms being stretched, especially after the way his elbows and knees had been hit, and the fact that the venom from the Prisoner’s Bane in his system still caused him random bouts of pain when it was irritated, was agonizing.

  The other bruises and cuts were easier to ignore, but they were still there. The footsteps lasted a little longer, and then he heard the laughter. Not Lavus’s, Tareth’s—as Lavus very rarely laughed. “Hi there, guess who I just talked to?” The smugness in his voice caused Taeru’s heart to leap into his throat. He didn’t guess. Then, a knife cut into his abdomen, almost deep enough to be called a stab, before it was trailed up to his chest. His teeth bit together painfully, but he kept his whimpering quiet. “My brother.”

  Taeru flinched. Thus far, anything Calis had told them had either been insignificant, or they had been lying. He’d hoped, but from the force of Tareth’s knife, Taeru doubted that his hope had been justified. “Guess what he told me?” Tareth asked as his body twisted away from Taeru. He seemed so angry. While Taeru had come to the conclusion that Lavus would not listen to his reason, Lavus did at least understand that he had reason—Tareth did not. The crack of the whip was all Taeru had to warn him against the agonizing pain that sliced across chest. “Not going to guess?” Tareth asked with another crack of the whip.

  Taeru let out a whimper, and his lips quivered. Please, no. No, Calis… why would you tell him? Why would you tell him that? That… wasn’t… you
didn’t have to do that. No, no, no… Another crack of the whip made him cringe, but then Tareth’s breath was tickling his lips.

  “I really should have seen it. The tiny, little form…” Tareth’s fingers moved hatefully across Taeru’s bruised and gashed side. Then, he moved them down Taeru’s abdomen. “My mother was right—it isn’t any wonder my brother was fond of you.” Tareth’s hand struck Taeru hard across the face, and pain lanced through him. “Coming into a hostile territory, and then masquerading about as a troublemaker for nobles—not wise.” Another blow struck across Taeru’s face, and this time he moaned weakly.

  “I don’t…”

  With a quick step back, Tareth brought the whip across Taeru’s face ruthlessly. “Don’t even bother, rat. I know exactly who you are. The Phantom Blade and Taeru Lassau. How fun. My father has allowed me to spend the entire sun making you understand the repercussions of your actions. And before the sun sets, you will be willing to give us the information we require, and you will acknowledge me as your better, and effectively your master.”

  Taeru shook his head. If he had ever been introduced to a disgusting concept, that was it. He would not, under any circumstance, admit anything to Tareth. The whip hit him a couple more times, with hard, rapid succession. “My brother has betrayed you. You are in the dungeon of a castle filled with those that want to see you suffer and die, Phantom Blade. You ought to reconsider your defiance.”

  The thought was sobering, but Taeru couldn’t afford to worry about it. That was typically the case when one was being tortured—rarely were people tortured by others who actually liked them. “I only attacked you because you were hurting innocent people, Tareth,” he whimpered. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

  “Oh, stop talking!” Tareth snarled, and the whip slashed across Taeru’s face again, and then again, and just to switch it up—it him across the chest. “I don’t care why you did it. You are going to pay for it. I have somewhere I’d like to take you, Prince.” Undoing Taeru’s wrist, Tareth shoved him to the floor violently. The moment they hit the floor, Taeru’s legs screamed in agony and buckled.