The Devil's Fire

by Sara Bell

  "I cannot believe you would condemn your own son to a lifetime with a man who hates him.” Alric knew his father had a merciless side, but never had it been directed at him.

  "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you from Denmar's clutches.” Declan closed his eyes. “You may go now. And send in Bertrand on your way out."

  Alric quit his father's rooms, his heart hammering with painful force as he went. It seemed he was damned no matter which course he took. If this was The Creator's way of making him atone for his sins, Alric was certainly paying the price.

  * * * *

  Gareth paced the floor of Tristam's chambers. He'd taken a visit to the stables a few minutes before, hoping a brisk walk would cool his anger. It hadn't worked.

  Tristam was sitting near the fire, holding a wet cloth to his bruised throat. “If you make one more circle around this room, I swear I shall throttle you."

  "As Alric throttled you, you mean?” Gareth balled his fists. “I could kill him for that insult, alone."

  "I brought it upon myself the moment I spoke against his father,” Tristam said. “Neither you nor I would have stood by while a man said as much about our own fathers, and you know it."

  "You had every right to be angry. Kray had no just cause to conceal the truth of his son's first marriage from us."

  Tristam removed the cloth from his throat and tossed it aside. “Perhaps, but we don't know the circumstances of Prince Alric's union with Denmar, now do we?"

  "You're changing your position?” Gareth stared at him with open astonishment. “An hour ago, you were ready to quit Kray and let the Under Realms take all those left behind her walls. Now, of a sudden, you change your mind?"

  "I had a visitor while you were gone.” Tristam cleared his throat. “Bertrand."

  Gareth snorted. “Come to convey Kray's apologies, I'll wager."

  "'Tis one bet you'd lose. Bertrand came to tell me that, should the exchange of vows between you and Prince Alric fail to take place before noon tomorrow, King Declan will consider the contract breached, and a war between Kray and Drystan will be declared."

  Gareth closed his eyes and propped himself against the wall. “A war we have no hope of winning."

  "Not if we called up every ally we have.” Tristam leaned back in his chair. “I'm so damned sorry about this, Gareth. Had I only known—” He broke off as Gareth crossed the room. “Where are you going?"

  Gareth paused at the door. “To find the one man who can put an end to this before ‘tis too late."

  * * * *

  Alric was standing in the dying light of the courtyard, trying to think his way out of this nightmare, when the snapping of a twig told him he was no longer alone. He turned to see Gareth standing behind him, spoiling for a fight.

  "Tristam had a visit from Bertrand a few moments ago.” Gareth looked down his nose at Alric. “It seems your father is determined to force the contract whether we like it or not."

  "And you want me to change his mind, is that it?"

  "I demand you tell your father you'll not go through with this marriage.” Gareth's blue eyes flashed with anger. “You owe me that much."

  "Were it as simple as that, the contract would already be broken.” Alric kept his voice flat and emotionless. “I told my father I would refuse to say the vows, at which time he informed me he'd go to war, anyway."

  "I don't believe you."

  "I care not what you believe,” Alric said. “I have spoken nothing but the truth to you from the beginning."

  "You lied by omission.” Gareth's voice rose. “Had you told us at the start that you and Denmar were joined—"

  "We are not joined.” Alric realized his own voice was rising. He forced himself to calm. “That marriage was annulled by the High Council, with King Elwin's blessing. Denmar is nothing to me now but a collection of bad memories.” Memories Alric visited in nightmares almost every time he closed his eyes.

  He shook off the dark thoughts and turned to face Gareth fully. “I was led to believe you and King Tristam knew of my time with Denmar."

  Gareth raked his hands through his hair. “Do you seriously think I would defile myself by bedding the castoff of my mortal enemy?"

  The words stung Alric more than all Denmar's punishments combined, but he'd be damned before he let it show. “Rest easy, Lord Lachlan,” he said. “I wouldn't dream of staining your snow pure flesh with my filthy fingers."

  That gave Gareth pause. “What are you saying?"

  There might be no way around the marriage, but Alric wasn't about to force himself on anyone. He eyed Gareth, keeping his body steady and his tone even.

  "My father can force a wedding, but not a consummation."

  Gareth's tanned skin colored a bright red. “You would agree to a sexless union?"

  "I can find my pleasure any number of places, Lord Lachlan.” Alric took two steps forward, moving so close he could feel Gareth's breath on his cheek. “As repulsive as you find me, there are others who are not quite so discriminating.” Alric brushed past him, then, leaving Gareth standing in the courtyard alone, his jaw hanging open as if unhinged.

  * * * *

  As weddings went, Gareth and Alric's union the next day was mercifully quick. The entire time the priest was performing the ritual, Gareth thought of nothing save the vows he'd exchanged with Kiel. He paid just enough attention to answer in all the right places. Otherwise, Gareth remained detached from the proceedings. Alric stood across from him, repeating his vows in short, clipped tones.

  Arden ended the service by presenting Alric and Gareth as joined and asking them to clasp hands before turning to face the few guests Declan had invited from the surrounding villages. Gareth grasped Alric's hand loosely, surprised at how cold his skin felt. The contact didn't last long. The moment Arden was done, Alric released Gareth's fingers.

  The well-wishers converged on them almost immediately, offering fond congratulations before heading off to the great hall and the wedding feast. It wasn't until the last of the guests cleared off that Declan approached.

  He embraced his son, but Gareth couldn't help noticing that Alric held himself back, barely returning Declan's touch. Declan tried to hide the hurt in his eyes, but Gareth could still see it.

  Declan broke away and cleared his throat. “We'd best make our way into the hall and start the celebration."

  "I'm afraid not,” Alric said. “I'd like to be on the road to Hume as soon as possible."

  Gareth was surprised, but Declan didn't seem to be.

  "I'll make your apologies to the guests, then,” Declan said, “and I'll have Wycaster prepare a unit of men to accompany you."

  Tristam came over to join them. “As I'll be leaving also, my men and I will accompany them as far as the Kray border."

  Declan looked as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end he simply nodded, then walked away.

  Alric turned to Gareth and Tristam. “Can you be ready to leave within the hour?"

  They nodded in unison.

  "Then I'll leave you to it,” Alric said before quitting the courtyard.

  Once Alric was gone, Tristam and Gareth headed to the guest quarters. As they approached the corridor, Tristam said, “He's different than I thought he'd be this morning."

  "Who? Alric?"

  "Yes. He seems almost as upset by this fiasco as you are.” “Last night he swore he'd tried to talk his father out of the match.” Gareth stopped at his door. “Perhaps he was telling the truth."

  "Who knows?” Tristam wiped a hand over his eyes. “Damn, I'll be glad to leave this place."

  "As am I, if only for the brief trip to Hume."

  "About that...” Tristam hesitated. “I'm sending half the soldiers I brought here on to Hume with you."

  Gareth lifted one brow. “To what purpose?"

  "These people have already proven they can't be trusted. I'll feel better knowing my men are watching your back, at least until you can summon your own men from Lachlan."

&nb
sp; Gareth hated the thought of being nursemaided, but he had to admit he'd feel better not being completely at the mercy of Alric's kin. “So would I. Thank you, Tristam."

  "You're thanking me?” Tristam gave him a look of the utmost disbelief. “Lest you've forgotten, I'm the reason you're in this mess to begin with."

  "I haven't forgotten, believe me.” Gareth smiled, surprising himself as much as Tristam. “I was thanking you more for your concern.” He sobered. “When Kiel died, I thought sure I'd lost the last person who gave a damn about my welfare."

  Tristam gave him a rough clap on the back. “You'll always have someone who cares for you as long as I'm alive."

  Gareth swallowed hard and then went into his room to pack lest Tristam see how deeply the sentiment affected him.

  * * * *

  Alric refused the servants’ offers of help and packed his own bags. He stuffed his clothing in his satchel first, taking only as much as he needed to get by.

  "You pack lightly."

  Alric turned to see his father standing in the doorway of the bedchamber. “What need have I of fourteen tunics when I can take two, wear one, and wash the other?"

  "You always did have a head full of sense."

  Alric said nothing, just finished tucking away his clothing before moving on to the few personal items he was taking with him. He opened a chest near his bed and pulled out a matched pair of carved wooden horses. Holding them up for his father to see, Alric said, “For Stefan."

  "So I guessed. You know, if you ever tire of being king, you could earn a decent wage as a wood carver."

  "'Twill be a long time ere I take the throne.” Alric forced a smile. “You may well outlive me."

  "We both know that isn't going to happen.” Declan stepped over to Alric and put his hand on his son's shoulder. “'Tis the reason I sought you out. I'll not let you leave here hating me."

  Alric closed his eyes. “I could never hate you, Father.” He opened them, again, and focused on Declan's face. “I understand why you forced me into this marriage, but I happen to believe you've made a mistake."

  Declan's shoulders sagged, and with a look of defeat in his eyes, he turned to go. He was almost to the door when Alric stopped him.

  "Father?"

  "Yes, my son?"

  "'Tis a six day journey to Hume."

  Declan turned back to him. “I know this."

  "And you also know Glenna. Once she gets us under her roof, she'll be hard pressed to let us leave. I'm figuring on at least a fortnight's visit."

  Declan nodded. “That sounds about right.” He paused. “Why do you tell me this?"

  "I don't imagine us to be back at Kray until a full month has passed.” Alric's voice cracked. “I expect you to be waiting at the castle gates for me when I arrive home."

  Declan blinked hard. “I will be there.” He laughed, the sound scratchy and tired. “I cannot die yet, not when I still have so much to teach you. By all that's holy, you don't even know how to play a decent game of chess. You've never once beaten me."

  Alric came forward, wrapping his father in a tight embrace. “Only because you cheat, old man."

  Declan laughed again, and Alric pretended not to feel the tears as they fell down his father's face and soaked the shoulder of his tunic.

  * * * *

  Gareth sat astride his horse in the lower bailey, watching as Wycaster gave the soldiers their last minute orders.

  Tristam urged his mount into position beside Gareth's. “Where is Alric?"

  Gareth pointed to a spot just in front of them. “In the lead with his men.” He shifted the reins from hand to hand. “I think the two of us are working towards a goal of mutual avoidance."

  "Maris and I avoided each other for the first two months of our marriage."

  Gareth was taken aback. “Surely you jest? You and Maris are insane for one another."

  "Our marriage was arranged just like yours and Alric's,” Tristam said. “Neither Maris nor I had the desire to wed a stranger."

  Gareth nudged his horse into action as the party started forward. “You once told me you consummated the marriage the same night you said your vows."

  "A true disaster, that.” Tristam urged his mount into step beside Gareth's. “I was so ready to make love to her—so captivated by her beauty—I was a tad ... quick the first time I took her. I left her unsatisfied and swearing to see my head on a pike should I come near her again."

  "Sounds like something Maris would say.” Gareth whistled. “Obviously something happened to change her mind."

  "Not something, but someone.” Tristam smiled. “Kiel tired of watching Maris and me spar with one another and took matters into his own hands. The rascal locked us in one of the tower rooms at Drystan and refused to let us out until we'd made peace.” Tristam's smile turned devilish. “Let me just say ‘twas the beginning of a long and beautiful union, one that sustains me the way nothing else in my life ever could."

  "If you're suggesting someone should lock Alric and myself into a tower until the two of us work out our differences, I can assure you, ‘twould be a waste of time.” Gareth guided his horse through the gates. “We'd be more likely to kill each other as not."

  "I was suggesting nothing of the kind, simply telling you my own tale."

  Gareth had nothing to say to that, and the two of them lapsed into a companionable silence.

  The sun was at its zenith by the time their party reached the Kray border. After Tristam and Gareth said their farewells, Alric rode over to give Tristam a cool, formal goodbye before rejoining the soldiers. Tristam instructed forty of his men to join the sixty-man-guard Declan had provided, then headed off for Drystan with his remaining soldiers. Gareth watched him go, feeling well and truly alone as Tristam disappeared into the horizon.

  He stewed over the feelings of isolation until dusk when the men finally stopped to make camp. Gareth noticed that Alric kept himself away from the rest, choosing to sleep on the fringes rather than around the tight circle of the fire with the others.

  Gareth made a face. Perhaps he wasn't the only one seized by loneliness and doubt.

  On the second and third days, it rained, a fine mist that chilled Gareth in spite of the warm temperature. The sun returned the morning of the fourth day, brightening Gareth's mood a fraction. The company made good time, not stopping until the Kray leader guided the men into a shallow valley near a shady brook.

  Gareth wasn't hungry, but he dismounted just the same. He walked his horse down to the rippling stream, allowing the animal a much earned drink. He waited until the stallion was finished, then tethered him to a slender elm near the center of the valley. Gareth massaged the animal's thick neck. He'd just turned back toward the brook to have a drink himself, when he found Alric standing not far away, watching him.

  "You can tell a great deal about a man by the way he treats his horse."

  These were the first words Alric had spoken to him in almost three days. Gareth decided to take it as a peace offering.

  "All right, then. What can you tell about me from the way I tend my mount?"

  "You watered your animal before yourself,” Alric said. “That tells me you have a generous nature."

  "Not especially,” Gareth said, even though the compliment pleased him more than he cared to admit. “I raised this horse from a colt, and I know him. Were I to put my needs above his own, he'd just as soon throw me into a ditch as see me on to Hume."

  Alric laughed. “Does this temperamental creature have a name?"

  "Merrick."

  "An unusual name for a horse."

  "Named after the marketplace where Kiel and I found him.” Gareth let the memory wash over him as he watched Merrick take a healthy bite of grass. “He was a little scrap of a thing, underfed and eaten up with fly bites. Kiel vowed Merrick wouldn't make it through the winter, but I saw something in him that no one else could."

  Alric adopted a speculative expression. “Kiel was your mate?"

  "Yes.”
Gareth's chest went tight. “We were married four years before Denmar murdered him."

  The color drained from Alric's face. “By all that's holy, why?"

  "Denmar wanted Kiel,” Gareth ground out, “but Kiel chose me, instead."

  "An insult Denmar couldn't allow.” Alric scrubbed his hand over his unshaven jaw. “Damned if this doesn't get worse and worse. Not only are you wed to a man you despise, you now have to live with the knowledge that your new husband was once wed to your first husband's killer."

  That summed it up, with one correction. “I don't despise you,” Gareth said. “I—” He broke off when he realized that Alric had gone stiff beside him. “What's wrong?"

  "Something's amiss.” Alric turned and started walking toward the brook where the men were gathered with their mounts. Over his shoulder, he said, “Untie your stallion and follow me."

  Gareth didn't move. “What is it?"

  "Just do as I say.” Alric's voice was sharp and commanding. “I must speak with the men."

  Under normal circumstances, Gareth would have balked at taking such an order, but something in Alric's voice prompted him to do as he was told. He'd just untied Merrick and started back towards the brook when the sound of approaching horses caught his attention.

  The horsemen were moving at a fast clip. Gareth couldn't see them yet, but he could tell they were close. He drew his sword and had just reached Alric when a rain of arrows fell down from the sky.

  Gareth released Merrick's reins at the same time as the two men closest to him fell. Before Gareth could offer them assistance, Alric's hard body slammed into his, pitching them both into the water of the brook.

  They fell into the shallow stream. It was then that Gareth saw the arrow lodged in Alric's lower back.

  Gareth reached out to him. “You're wounded."

  "I'm fine.” Alric gestured to a rocky point above the valley. “The arrows came from over that ridge. If my ears serve me right, the riders are coming in from the opposite direction."

  Gareth swore. “They have us on two sides."

  "Yes, but we have one advantage.” Alric wet his lips. “Their archers are firing in unison. Raise your head enough to see when the second shot comes through. We should have time to call to the men and assess the damage while our enemy notches the third arrow."