Shifting Too

by Shifting Too (anth. )(Rob

  "Your father will stand in the lower bailey of Castle Alden for two full hours each morn wearing a yoke upon his traitorous neck so that all who see him will know of his disgrace. And in the evenings, Oskar will toil the fields like a common laborer, turning the soil until the value of every last treasure he plundered from me has been repaid."

  As soon as Xandor finished reciting the terms of Oskar's punishment, Tynan looked to his father. What little color was left on Oskar's face had slowly leeched away, the impact of the sentence hitting him full force. Oskar was an old man -- too old to survive the grueling pace of a field hand. Another stab of guilt knifed through Tynan's chest. Oskar deserved to spend his remaining years at rest, not toiling his life away in the fields. It was then that Tynan made his choice. His father had committed a crime, yes, but the attempt to save Tynan's life had been earnest. Now was the time for Tynan to repay the debt he owed his sire.

  "I won't beg you to spare my father this measure of justice," Tynan said, proud that his voice shook but slightly. "The Lords of Graywald stole from you, and 'tis the Lords of Graywald who owe you recompense. But my father is an old man, unable to give you the full measure of satisfaction you require."

  Xandor dropped the reins he'd been holding onto the back of his stallion's neck and folded his hands together on the saddle, sitting in quiet contemplation for a full moment before asking, "How then do you suggest I harvest my pound of flesh?"

  Tynan faced him down without so much as blinking. "I will serve the sentence in my father's stead."

  As soon as the words left Tynan's lips, Oskar set up a violent protest, taking advantage of his captors' surprise to wrench free and rush to Tynan's side.

  "You cannot do this, my son," he whispered so that only Tynan could hear. "I'll not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me this way."

  "I can and I will." Putting a firm but loving arm around his father's shoulders to still their quaking, Tynan again looked to Xandor. "According to the laws of the Over Kingdom of Orielle as signed by High King Elwin himself, a son can bear the sins and punishment of his father if he so chooses."

  "This cannot be." Oskar shook his head with such force Tynan could hear the faint rattle of his teeth. "You will not take my place. I'll not allow it."

  "Silence, old man." Xandor studied the pair of them as if thinking, though Tynan was certain he'd already made his decision. True enough, a scant breath later Xandor said, "The choice is made. From hence forth, let it be known that Tynan of Graywald, lord no more, will be branded as thief and traitor and shall serve the sentence in his father's stead." He motioned to the guard standing closest to Tynan. "Henrick, take him away."

  Oskar tried with all his might to hold onto his son, but he was no match for the henchman's strength. As Henrick pulled him away from his sobbing father, Tynan dared give voice to one last question. "What will happen to my father once I'm gone?"

  Before Xandor could answer, Aswyn spoke up for the first time since Tynan made his choice. "Your father will be well cared for, Tynan. I promise you that." His earth-brown eyes shone with an emotion Tynan recognized as respect. "I'll see that he's well tended for the rest of his days. Your sacrifice will not be in vain."

  Satisfied that Oskar was in good hands, Tynan relaxed into Henrick's grasp and allowed himself to be dragged away, his ears ringing with his father's fevered protests.

  ***

  Xandor gripped the stone wall of the parapet and stared down into the bailey, his keen eyes noting the pallor of Tynan's face. For three days now, he'd come each morning to watch as Tynan bore his father's punishment. Xandor's fingers tightened against the rough stone as yet another of his soldiers came to jeer at the fallen lord, laughing at his change in station and spitting on his bare feet. It shouldn't bother Xandor to see Tynan humbled this way. Tynan deserved to hurt, to bleed the way Xandor had bled the day Tynan rejected him. What did it matter to Xandor if Tynan was pounds too thin and visibly weak? So what if Tynan was clothed in rough peasant's rags instead of the fine linen he was used to? Xandor should be glad to see the mighty Lord Graywald taken down. He should be, but he wasn't.

  Behind him, the door opened. Xandor turned to see Aswyn stepping onto the battlements. With a sigh, he turned to gaze back down at Tynan. "If you've come to lecture me again, you may as well save yourself the trouble. Tynan made his choice, and that choice will stand."

  "You'll hear no more lectures from me." Aswyn snorted as he came to stand beside Xandor at the parapet wall. "My mother listens better than you do, and she's stone deaf."

  From the corner of his eye, Xandor watched as Aswyn looked down at Tynan.

  "He seems a mite pale to me," Aswyn said, pointing at Tynan's trembling figure. "Are you affording him full rations at each meal?"

  Taking exception to the question, Xandor turned to look Aswyn full in the face. "How can you ask me that? I don't starve or abuse my prisoners, and well you know it."

  "Perhaps, but you and I both know Tynan is no ordinary prisoner." Aswyn propped one thick hip on the parapet wall as he turned to meet Xandor's glare head on. "If he were, you wouldn't be out here every morning watching him like some circling hawk."

  "What I do with my time is no one's business save mine."

  "True, but as commander and captain of your guard, prisoners fall under my care." Aswyn hesitated. "I received a report from the field captain this morning. It seems Tynan is unable to keep up with the other field hands."

  Xandor made a face. "Unwilling, is more like. He's lived a life of privilege, Aswyn, coddled and spoiled from the day he stretched his mother's womb. No wonder he takes offense at doing an honest days work."

  Aswyn frowned. "You have no idea where Tynan went after he left the Kingdom of Alden, do you?"

  Xandor turned away then, pretending interest in a loose stone on the ground beside his foot. "No, and I prefer not to hear it now."

  "Well that's too damned bad because hear it you're going to." Aswyn's voice took on a hard edge. "When he left here, Tynan was heartbroken. You'd ordered him out of your life -"

  Xandor's head whipped up as he interrupted. "Only because he refused to accept me."

  Aswyn rolled his eyes. "Will you be silent long enough to listen?" When Xandor closed his mouth in a tight, angry line, Aswyn continued. "When Tynan left Alden, he traveled to Banning."

  "The capitol city?" Xandor was surprised, but that feeling quickly turned to cynicism. "Probably hoping to hitch his handsome arse to one of High King Elwin's wealthy courtiers, I'd wager."

  "'Tis one bet you'd lose," Aswyn said. "Tynan pledged his services to Elwin's southern army."

  Xandor felt as if he'd been slapped. "You must be mistaken."

  Aswyn shook his head. "I sent a messenger to Elwin himself just last year when I heard Tynan had returned to Graywald village. The High King confirmed the truth of the story."

  Xandor narrowed his eyes. "You sent a message to the High King? You, a lowly commander?"

  Aswyn shrugged. "'Twas easy enough. I 'borrowed' the signet ring from the box in your chamber and pretended the message was from you. When the messenger came back from Banning, I intercepted him at the gate and told him I'd see that the missive was delivered to you myself."

  "But why? Why go to all that bother?"

  "When I heard the rumors in the village that Tynan had allied himself with the southern army, I was astounded. With over three hundred lesser kingdoms pledging fealty to King Elwin, Tynan could have chosen to serve any one of them. Why would he purposely join himself to the most savage band of warriors the Over Kingdom ever spawned? 'Tis a well known fact that most new recruits don't last the first year through. Why would Tynan punish himself so?" Aswyn stared Xandor down. "I could think of but one answer."

  "If you mean to suggest Tynan felt guilt over his refusal to bond with me -"

  "'Tis the only explanation that makes sense."

  Xandor closed his eyes, the beat of his heart unsteady as he thought about what Aswyn was implying. If T
ynan truly felt remorse over his decision not to mate with Xandor, then there might be hope for them after all. Then again, if Xandor went to Tynan with his heart on his sleeve only to be rejected again, Xandor wasn't certain he'd survive it. Head spinning, Xandor opened his eyes and lifted them to Aswyn's face. "I need time to think on all you've told me."

  "I wouldn't take too much time if I were you." Aswyn pointed down and into the bailey. Xandor followed the direction of his finger and watched as two guards came to lift the yoke from Tynan's shoulders.

  Tynan stumbled as the weight was removed, and the guard closest to him cuffed the back of Tynan's golden head with enough force to make his knees buckle. Xandor was at first outraged, but if Tynan was playing ill to shirk out of the bargain he'd made, 'twas no less than he deserved. Unsure whether or not to intervene, Xandor watched as Tynan righted himself before lifting defiant eyes to his tormentor and allowing himself to be led through the courtyard.

  Pushing himself away from the wall, Xandor started for the door. Aswyn called, "Where are you going?" but Xandor ignored him. He needed to get away, to go somewhere he could think without risk of being interrupted. There was only one place he could find the isolation he needed.

  Destination set, Xandor headed for the stables.

  ***

  Aswyn handed his reins to the barkeep's son and made his way into Graywald Tavern. Under normal circumstances he'd have stayed at Alden Castle and partaken of the fine wine Xandor's cellars had to offer, but not today. Xandor had been gone for hours now, and Aswyn had no notion whether he'd gotten through to the iron-headed man or not. No, today Aswyn needed a stiff, skull numbing drink strong enough to strip tarnish off of silver, and Graywald Tavern was just the place to get it.

  The barkeep greeted him with a three-toothed smile and poured up a tall tankard of something dark and foaming. Passing it to Aswyn, he said, "First round's on me, yer lordship."

  Aswyn took the drink from the man's knotty fingers and then turned to scan the room. A barmaid with lush breasts and a pretty face gave him a saucy wink before swishing her skirts to indicate interest, but Aswyn ignored her and walked across the filthy, rush covered floor to a table set in the back. Any other time he'd have taken the wench up on her offer, but not today. He took a bracing sip of the black brew and shivered. He'd come here to get drunk, and that's exactly what he meant to do.

  Aswyn was halfway through the bitter ale when the outside door opened, spilling light into the darkened keeping room. Not bothering to glance up and see who the intruder was, Aswyn took another swig. He'd just set his tankard back on the scarred surface of the sticky table when he realized someone was standing over him. He looked up and into the wide eyes of Tynan's father.

  "Begging you pardon, my lord." Oskar's thin lips twitched and his voice shook so that Aswyn feared he was about to turn tail and bolt. Oskar surprised him though, continuing his plea despite his trembling. "I saw you come in here, and I…there's something I must speak to you about."

  Remembering his promise to Tynan. Aswyn stood and pulled a stool away from the table, motioning for Oskar to sit. "You look as if you're about to fall on your face, man. Stay still while I order you some food."

  Oskar shook his head. "'Tis not me you should be worried about, my lord." He clasped and unclasped his fingers, obviously too nervous to stay still. "I tried to gain audience with King Xandor, but he refused to hear my suit. Not that I blame him, of course, but I can wait no longer. My son's life hangs in the balance."

  Aswyn's skin prickled with gooseflesh. "I think perhaps you'd better start this tale from the beginning."

  With a tight nod, Oskar opened his mouth and did just that.

  ***

  Xandor dropped Shih's reins and allowed the big stallion to graze as he himself wandered to the clear brook where they'd stopped and bent to take a long, satisfying drink. The cool water was a boon to his parched throat, but in truth being thirsty 'twas no less than he deserved for riding through the forest like a madman. He knew he'd ridden Shih too hard -- a fact the horse reminded him of with a nip to the shoulder the moment he'd climbed off the beast's back -- but Xandor had been unable to help himself. He'd needed the speed, the rush of the wind as they'd raced through the trees. Anything to clear the muddle from his head.

  Unfortunately it hadn't worked. Xandor rose from the stream bank, as confused and alone as ever. There was a time when he'd have turned to Tynan with his troubles. A smile creased Xandor's lips as he remembered those days. They shouldn't have worked, the pair of them, what with Tynan the son of a lesser lord and Xandor heir to a powerful throne. Even so, the moment Xandor -- six years Tynan's senior -- had stopped seeing the governor's son as a gangly brat and started seeing him as a man full grown, he'd known they were destined for each other. Too bad Tynan hadn't shared those feelings.

  Xandor was just turning back to Shih when the rattling of underbrush caught his attention. Whirling on his heel, he reached for his sword, relaxing only slightly as Aswyn rode into the clearing.

  Allowing his sword to slide back into place at his side, Xandor said, "I assume you have a good reason for scaring the wits out of me." He gave his friend a smile. "You took no less than five years off my life. How did you find me anyway?"

  Aswyn tapped his nose. "I always was better at scenting a trail than you, even in human form." He rode closer, giving Xandor a full view of the deep well of concern marring his face.

  Xandor's pulse quickened. Something was wrong.

  Aswyn swung from his mount. "I've just spoken with Oskar of Graywald. He tells me that he's been begging an audience with you for these three days past."

  Xandor relaxed a fraction. "Is that what holds you so distraught?" He waved a dismissive hand. "I'm sure 'twas nothing. Probably wanted to beg me to lift the punishment and restore his house."

  "I wish that were the case." Aswyn drew a deep breath. "Creator knows I do." He took a step closer. "Xandor, Oskar came to plead all right, but not for his own pardon. He came to beg for his son's life."

  "What are you talking about? Tynan hasn't been given a death sentence."

  "But he has. That's what Oskar was trying to tell you." Aswyn's eyes shone bright with sorrow, even though the trees above them blocked the brunt of the midday sun. "Tynan is sick, wasting away from the same disease that claimed his mother."

  "I don't understand." Xandor's response came out as little more than a whisper. "How could he have caught the same ailment as his mother? She's been gone these twelve years past."

  "According to Oskar, 'tis a malady that affects each generation of his late wife's family. Not all her kin develop the disease, but once they do, 'tis always fatal. Why do you think Oskar stole from you? He needed the money to pay the healers he'd hired in a last attempt to save Tynan's life. When his own coin ran out, Oskar grew desperate and resorted to thievery." Aswyn bowed his head. "I'm sorry to say his efforts were all in vain. Even now, Tynan sickens. Soon his heart will grow too weak to sustain him, and then 'twill all be over."

  Xandor stood in mute shock for a full moment before his fevered brain had sense enough to spur him into action. Rushing to where Shih stood chewing on a patch of stubby grass, he said, "I must go to him. We'll find a healer who can save him. I'll -"

  "Xandor, wait." Aswyn stepped up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. "There's something else you have to know. 'Twill hurt you to hear it, but you have a right to know the full truth."

  Xandor swallowed, certain nothing in all of Orielle could hurt worse than knowing the man he loved was dying. Still, he nodded his head, standing in silence as he waited for Aswyn to speak.

  "The disease is slow but painful, taking a firm hold on its victim while slowly draining the life force from his body. 'Tis why Tynan joined Elwin's southern army to begin with."

  Xandor's stomach rolled as he turned to look at Aswyn. "He was hoping to be killed before the disease progressed."

  "Yes, and there's more." Aswyn sighed. "There is no easy way to t
ell you this, so I'm just going to say it. When you told Tynan the truth of what we are -- the day you asked him to bond with you -- he'd already begun showing symptoms of the disease. Knowing that wolves mate for life, he was afraid to mate with you for fear his death would leave you devastated and alone for the rest of your days. Tynan was seeking a way to tell you why when you pushed him away." Aswyn gave his shoulder a squeeze. "He wasn't rejecting you, my friend. He was trying to save you."

  Xandor felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed the breath out of his lungs as he realized just what a fool he'd been. How he found the strength to remount, he couldn't say, but the next thing he knew he was on Shih's back racing towards Alden with Aswyn following close behind. The ride wasn't a long one by any measure, but to Xandor it felt as if he'd been riding for days by the time they reached the field where Tynan was working. Xandor arrived just in time to see Tynan stumble over a rock hidden in the dirt. A hard faced task master with a thick club in his hand gave Tynan a solid thump across the front of his chest, a blow that proved too much for Tynan's already struggling heart. As Xandor watched in horror, Tynan crumpled to the ground like a child's forgotten poppet.