Despite each of their efforts, Dephithus and Myara were unable to find time together in those weeks. Myara had a rigorous schedule of her own with her final training before her sixteenth birthday and Vicor kept Dephithus so busy that their schedules never permitted them to visit. He suspected that was for the best. Maybe, by the time they got some time together, he would have his temper and his moods back to something closer to what she was used to from him.
Before he knew it, the day came to set off for Dalynay and the tournament.
As he waited to depart with the rest of the royal party, his thoughts wandered to the archives and the time that he would lose from his research. The key was hidden away safely in his room, but what if a servant discovered it somehow? What if he lost access to the room before he had all his answers?
Hydra, who had muscled out even more with the heavy practice schedule, was showing remarkable discipline in his stillness, allowing Dephithus the luxury of dwelling on other things.
It was Mythan who delayed their departure. Commander Vicor had raised some fuss or another and the high lord of Imperious had led him off to the palace study to discuss it. Avaline passed the wait with a stream of endless chatter about how well Dephithus was doing and what a pair he and Hydra made. Dephithus made himself smile and nod when appropriate, but he was restless and itched to be away. There was no combat practice today to burn away his temper and his watch duty had been given to someone else, so he would be fresh for the journey. If they did not get moving soon he was bound to say something he should not.
Mythan finally emerged and mounted his courser, then he sat there a moment scowling over the travel party. Finally, his scowl settled on Dephithus and he motioned him over with a sharp flick of his hand. His den-father’s temper seemed as poor as his own today. Dephithus moved Hydra over and grimaced when Mythan leaned close to his ear, invasive in his nearness.
“I don’t know what has occurred between you and Commander Vicor, but I do wish you would try to smooth things over. The commander insists that a seasoned warrior accompany you to coach you. He says it is only because you are so newly raised, but his tone said much more.”
Dephithus kept his tone even, at war internally with the desire to lash out. He was to be watched over like a Legion hopeful. None of the other entrants had to suffer such insult. “Who will attend me?”
“Kota?”
Dephithus scowled.
“Yes, that was the name he gave me. We will make the best of it and I will trust you to resolve this when we return.”
Dephithus nodded. “I will, Lord Mythan.”
Wonderful. He would have Kota watching over him like a child’s keeper. He turned Hydra abruptly around and ended up facing the object of his irritation. Kota was trotting up on a large draft-like bay gelding. At least it was not another stallion. There were already two stallions in the party. More than enough to cause tension. Kota nodded to Dephithus as he slowed his mount to stop before Mythan.
“High Commander, I ask your leave to make a suggestion.”
Dephithus glanced at Kota, trying to smooth the shock and apprehension from his face. That was the most he had ever heard the big man say in one sentence and, though he reluctantly admired the mighty voice, he doubted that any suggestion Kota had would be to his benefit.
“Go on,” Mythan replied, his tone sharp with irritation at the departure from procedure. He was plainly as insulted by this whole affair as Dephithus was.
“I understand your displeasure with my presence and, if it would ease your mind, I would offer to partake in the tournament to disguise Vicor’s purpose in sending me.”
Mythan’s anger melted and a slow appreciation brightened his features. “I understand your people scorn such contests.”
Kota’s nod was short and abrupt.
“I accept your most gracious offer and leave you free to choose your sport.” Mythan looked satisfied for a moment and Dephithus thought they would finally leave when his den-father hesitated again. “Do you think this is necessary?”
“Given my station, my lord, and my lack of familiarity with your den-son outside of the training ring, I would prefer not to offer an unqualified judgement.”
With an approving nod, Mythan marked the conversation finished and rode toward the front, falling in behind the first line of royal guard. Dephithus took his position among the tournament participants. The formal arrangement would be abandoned outside of the cities, but here there were protocols to follow and images to uphold. Kota lined up with the tournament participants, holding his mount back far enough to keep watch over Dephithus and still appear as merely one more entrant.
Although he had managed to drop Kota a few times in the last week of practice, the man remained a nagging reminder of how much Dephithus still had to learn. Vicor made the situation more frustrating by never acknowledging him for bringing the giant down. Instead, the commander made a point of reprimanding Kota for dropping his guard on each occasion.
Riding through the city, Dephithus saw many familiar faces gathered to see the party off. Kathan was not present, probably kept away in training, but his family was there waving enthusiastically. Dephithus waved back, not really paying much attention to who he was waving at. He had learned a long time ago that, as long as he waved, most of them would assume they were the recipients of the attention. Though, in the past, he had made the effort to acknowledge as many as possible with a smile. His smile was not as ready today. A few of the resident minstrels, people he had met and whose music he had danced to at Kathan’s parent’s tavern, yelled out greetings and Dephithus nodded recognition, trying to ignore his lurking shadow.
Outside of the city proper, they moved up the pace to an easy canter. If they kept a reasonable speed, the party would reach Nunich around dusk. Then it would be no more than a half-day’s ride to Dalynay.
*
The city of Nunich, smaller than Dalynay, but still big enough to class as a city, appeared amidst the trees as dusk began to set in. It sprouted along the side of a large lake and the tall lanterns that were being lit along the streets reflected serenely in the mirror-smooth surface. The blue and silver banners of Imperious hung from every other lantern, alternating with the red and beige of the local lordship.
It might be a perfect scene if he did not feel the heavy presence of Kota still flanking him when the group slowed their mounts to move back into a formal arrangement. The local lord’s manor rested on the side of the lake at the far end of the town. It was large enough that he had offered to house everyone there, even the honor guard were given the option of staying in the military quarters that did not see much use these days. Nunich’s lord was less convinced of the need to maintain a rigorous military program in these peaceful days. Anyone who wished to train moved to one of the larger neighboring cities to do so.
They were greeted by formal guards in ceremonial attire at the entrance to the manor grounds and Mythan and his family received a warm welcome. They were ushered inside right away, though Dephithus chose to stay back and tend Hydra himself. Kota bedded his large mount down alongside Hydra and Dephithus stopped what he was doing to watch the man for a moment. Kota turned and faced him; his large size had begun to seem less intimidating as Dephithus improved his combat skills. He wanted to respect the man. He knew he should and he knew Kota deserved it, but he could not find the right emotion within himself. All he felt was resentment.
Standing silently, Kota returned the scrutiny.
“Commander Parthak would never have felt such foolishness necessary.” Dephithus stated, turning to resume Hydra’s grooming.
“Perhaps,” Kota replied, his tone even and calm enough to be irritating. “But then, perhaps you are not yourself lately.”
That was true. Too true.
“That’s absurd,” Dephithus snapped. He was becoming practiced at lying to others. If only he could lie convincingly enough to himself.
Kota grunted in response and walked off to get food for his horse,
passing Avaline on her way into the stable. She stopped near Dephithus and leaned against a post as she watched him in silence until he was almost done. Without a word, she went to get the hay for him.
Did she think he could not manage it himself?
As she tossed it over into the food bin Dephithus glanced up and managed a nod he hoped she would read as gratitude.
Avaline smiled at him.
“You have hay on your dress,” he remarked to hide the threat of a scowl.
She looked down and picked at the offending hay. “I thought we might walk together. It is a lovely evening. The stars are out.”
Dephithus cringed inwardly. Yes, those traitorous stars, so bright and beautiful, like on his Dawning Day. He remembered very well that night when he had taken a moment to look at the stars. It was an unpleasant memory at best.
Hiding his upset, he brushed at some imaginary spot of dirt on Hydra until he was more composed, then stepped out of the stall.
“Yes, that would be nice,” he lied.
Avaline took his hand and they walked from the stable toward the lake. Dephithus let her keep the hand, though the contact made his skin crawl for some reason. Bats dove around in the pale evening light, feeding on the swarm of water loving insects that filled the air just above the lake. Dephithus admired the speed and agility of the winged rodents. Though, mostly, he longed for their ability to fly away. They walked in silence for a while, each watching the night as they saw it.
“My son, I am concerned for you.”
Dephithus glanced over at her and shook his head, trying to banish the swell of frustration her words caused. He said nothing.
“You do not seem very happy of late.”
“I have had a few problems with my studies. Nothing I can’t work out.”
A smile touched her lips then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. She was obviously far from satisfied with his answer. “It seems you don’t smile much of late and I have not seen you with Myara in some time. In fact, I haven’t seen much of you at all.”
A soft golden smile flickered in his mind and he was suddenly haunted by the taste of those lips and the desire they brought. Dephithus heaved a deep breath and Avaline’s eyes softened with sympathy. “Commander Vicor has kept me very busy.”
“Vicor thinks the upper nobility are too pampered and he has a tendency to try and overcompensate. Do you love her?”
I am too broken to love.
Dephithus pushed away the thought. He rolled his eyes at his mother and slipped an arm over her shoulders, knowing the contact would calm her. He remembered a time not so long ago when he had been too short to reach her shoulders. So much had changed since then. These days it was Avaline who had to settle for putting her arm around his waist. She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed contentedly. Dephithus found a real grin slipping across his lips. Only his mother could make him feel this normal, free of the confusing emotions he experienced around Myara, and he liked the feeling.
Without warning, a jorycat lunged out of the brush and Dephithus turned, swinging Avaline out of the line of attack. The cat plowed into his back, throwing all three of them to the ground. Dephithus rolled onto his feet almost as fast as the cat did, pulling the serpent dagger from its sheath. The jorycat was smaller than the mountain cats that roamed closer to Imperious, but it was still very strong and a lethal hunter.
The cat hissed at him, it’s eyes flashing a strange silvery color in the moonlight. Dephithus growled the way he had with the cat that threatened Myara. Undaunted, the cat lunged into him. Dephithus brought the knife around as the cat slammed into his chest, driving him into the ground and knocking the wind out of him.
“Dephithus!”
Avaline pushed at the still creature on his chest while Dephithus struggled to get his breath back. He helped shove the dead cat off and lay there, staring at the stars as the pain eased slowly and his lungs began to pull in air. The stars sparkled so bright he began to wonder if perhaps they were laughing at him. Then Avaline’s face filled his vision, pale with tears sparkling on her cheeks like the stars above.
A man’s voice broke through the sound of his strained breathing. “Is he all right?”
“Yes, Den-father,” Dephithus answered, holding up his arm so that someone might help him to sit. The hand that took hold of him was too large for Mythan. As Avaline moved aside he saw Mythan standing behind her and Kota knelt to help Dephithus up. Once upright and able to breathe normally, Dephithus reached over and retrieved his knife from the neck of the jorycat. He wiped it off on the spotted pelt and sheathed it.
“What happened?” Mythan demanded.
“It lunged at us out of nowhere.” Avaline’s voice shook with the rush of panic that was still fading.
“That is odd. The smaller cats usually aren’t that aggressive.”
“There is something wrong with this one.” Kota offered from where he had knelt next to the dead animal. He turned its head towards them so they could all see what he was talking about. “Its eyes are discolored.”
Dephithus looked over at the dead cat’s face. Two lifeless gray eyes stared back at him. With a shudder he looked away.
“Did either of you get bitten or scratched?” Mythan asked urgently, his voice thickened with fear.
Dephithus shook his head, not sure he could keep his voice level enough to speak.
Avaline looked at him, her eyes brimming over with gratitude and adoration. “It never touched me, thanks to my brave son.”
Mythan nodded to Kota who hefted the cat onto his shoulder. “We will take it to be disposed of in case it’s diseased. Will you be well for tomorrow?”
Dephithus met Mythan’s even gaze. “Yes. I will be more than well.”
Mythan nodded and took hold of Avaline’s hand. She reached out to Dephithus with her other hand and he took it, letting Mythan lead them all back to the manor. For the rest of the night he could not get the image of the gray-eyed cat in the library out of his head.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Dephithus sat upon his mount, watching with a removed patience while attendants cleaned up shards of wood from a lance broken in the last joust. Hydra was not so calm. Dephithus had to rein him in tight. The stallion half reared then fell to impatient prancing again. There was an undeniable excitement in the air and Hydra was extremely sensitive to it. Such was true of all tournaments, but both horse and rider were new to participating in this level of competition.
The earlier melee and archery tournaments had brought plenty of crowds, and Kota had only missed taking the melee by one opponent who had displayed an exceptional mastery in the sport. The joust always drew the largest crowds. Even many of the vendors left their shops to watch, knowing they would not have much patronage until the joust was over.
Dalynay boasted a grand outdoor stadium on the palace grounds that buzzed with activity between jousts. Though the city itself was much smaller than Imperious, there was more than enough ambition among its nobility to put up quite a grand spectacle. The glorious array of banners flying around the grounds showed that nearly every distinguished lordship in the region was in attendance. The vaguely offensive violet and orange banner alongside the banners of Dalynay and Imperious showed that even one lord from outside the region had attended. To encourage such interest, the foreign lord and his family had been given distinguished seats to one side of the royal family of Imperious.
Hydra reared up again and Dephithus gave the reins a sharp tug, popping the bit smartly down on the stallion’s lower jaw. Hydra dropped down and tossed his head as he chewed at the offending piece of metal in irritation. Once he settled some, Dephithus slid a hand under his long, black mane and praised him with a firm pat. Hydra nodded his head in response and remained mostly still, though Dephithus could feel the tension in his muscles wound like massive springs.
There had been no more incidents after leaving Nunich. The attendants of the lord there had taken the jorycat out and burned it some distance away fr
om the village. Dephithus still got a chill when he remembered those gray eyes, but he did not mention the archive cat to anyone. Especially since he was not even supposed to be going into the archives.
The horse at the other end of the list reared up then, challenging his rider with his impatience. Larina’s stallion was a big dun colored creature as rough in appearance as Hydra was refined. The next joust was theirs. It was the contest that much of the audience had been waiting eagerly on all day. So far, Dephithus had come out on top in every joust he had fought, only getting unseated once. That pass had unseated them both, and he had taken the victory on the ground.
Larina’s record for the day was nearly as spotless, making this truly the match to see. The stadium keepers were making the final passes with their draft beasts to smooth out the jousting field and ensure that no shards of the broken lance lay about to possibly injure one of the horses. As they cleared from the list the audience applauded, encouraging the tournament speaker to announce the next challengers while both stallions danced in anticipation.
“Check your straps.”
Dephithus glanced down at his perpetual shadow in annoyance.
Kota reciprocated with a firm scowl.
With a sigh, Dephithus gave in and began to systematically check the straps and buckles of his armor for any weak points. When he finished Kota rechecked one of the leg straps then moved back to the side with a satisfied grunt. Dephithus heeled Hydra forward, lining him up along that end of the list and turning him to face Larina who was doing the same at her end.
“Now we enter our final jousting division.” The applause died down. “We have a formal challenge between Lord Dephithus de Nu Traven of Imperious—” a heavy applause rose and Hydra showed off with a controlled rear so that Dephithus was forced to center him again before he could take his lance and settle it into position, “—and our own Lady Larina Moshvue of Dalynay.” Even heavier applause greeted Larina’s name, but Dephithus had expected that in her home stadium. “Let the contest begin!”
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