“Regardless,” Daemyn continued, closing the drapes with a snap. “Xander is not a careless man. He must have been in quite a state to risk suspicion like that. Shall I assume that he doesn’t plan on frequenting your bedchamber any longer? Since he has already blown his cover, that is.”
Daemyn was very quick, Roselyn noted as she again nodded her head in reply to his questions. “That is correct. I have just put an end to it entirely.”
Roselyn watched her brother relax his stance and she allowed him to escort her to the fire and take a seat. “As I said, I saw Xander enter the palace and went over to investigate,” Daemyn explained. “I got him out of hot water with the posted guards, however he wouldn’t disclose the reason he was outside to begin with. The western gate does not lead into town and his silence in the matter was strange. Xander is… a fool, it seems, however he is a good man overall. Not the type that would open his mouth to anyone. As long as you promise to keep this end as the final word I will let your secret die with me.”
“Thank you, brother. I appreciate your word to protect me. This would ruin me if it got out.” Roselyn stared off into the fire, wondering how her happy set-up turned so sour. “I made an error. I thought that the history of friendship between Xander and myself would make him less likely to sell my secrets someday. That, and his allegiance to you, of course. But it seems that choosing someone so close was my first mistake.”
Daemyn put his hand under her chin and brought her face around to look at him. “That brings me to my next inquiry, Rosie. If you knew full well how terrible this affair would be for your pretty little neck, why would you risk it?”
“I wanted to please myself, not just spend all day pleasing others. You understand that better than anyone I know, I’m sure of it. Why is it so dangerous for me? If I had a silver piece for every girl you’ve—”
“Aye, but I am not a virtuous princess. There is your difference. It’s quite unfortunate for you that I can enjoy so many different kinds of pleasures and you have to remain so pure. I pity you in fact.” Daemyn smirked and raised his hand to his own chin and stroked it thoughtfully.
“Enough gloating, Daemyn,” Roselyn scolded. “What would you have me do? I am eternally grateful to the gods that you are the one who discovered this mess so that you may see me out of it.”
“What made you decide to end your… relationship… with my good friend?” he asked genuinely.
“I’m not sure I should like to share the details of that with you. We felt differently about our relationship, but that’s all I’ll say. Why do you ask?”
“Merely curious, I assure you. I may have a solution to your little problem,” he said suddenly. “I cannot merely give you my word I shall see to it you’re in the clear. You shall be seeing him far less frequently. In all aspects.”
Roselyn sat up straight with interest. “I am not opposed.”
Daemyn rose to pace the room, twirling his thumbs, deep in thought. “I could easily arrange for him to relocate to Triton. It would be a promotion. He would be my guard when I visited that boring little island for tax payments.” He spit out the last term like it was drenched in poison. Roselyn knew quite well how Daemyn felt about paying taxes to the Gaians.
“Would Xander live there?” Roselyn asked.
“I can find him residence and hope his pride doesn’t affect his decision to go. Not that he’ll see any choice in the matter, but I shall present it as a most joyous occasion! He’s wise enough to know it would cause too much suspicion for him to turn down such an opportunity. He wouldn’t want anyone calling him a fool and asking unwelcome questions.”
“It sounds perfect, brother. How can I thank you?” Roselyn grinned widely. She was beyond grateful that her problem could be so easily fixed. It was unfortunate to lose her lover… and friend, as he so brashly reminded her. She knew she would be fine, however, for she now realized the importance of taking a lover who had no emotional connection to her.
Daemyn snorted loudly. “Thank me? You may thank me by ceasing those thoughts in your head. I will not have this problem again, Roselyn.”
Roselyn gaped at her brother. “Daemyn, I don’t understand. How could you possibly have the slightest clue where my mind was?”
Daemyn rolled his eyes. “One doesn’t need to be a filthy trespasser of the mind like those Gaians to know what’s going on in your head, Princess. Not to mention the fact that you are my flesh and blood and I am coming to realize we are more alike than I had imagined. Unfortunately. You are quite the scoundrel, aren’t you?”
“Well,” Roselyn began with a smirk, “I suppose as long as we keep your new revelations to this room, I cannot deny it.”
Daemyn bowed and started for the door. “Very well, my fair wench. I’m off to His Majesty to suggest our mutual friend’s happy transfer. Sleep well.”
The Guard
Xander walked in to the large dining hall dimly lit by four braziers positioned along its central line with thirty-foot trestle tables flanking either side of each blaze. The pangs in his belly were complimented by those of his heart and it almost seemed impossible to think of food but he had to at least try stomaching some of it. His shift had trudged on after the previous night’s calamity, and he had only noticed as darkness deepened that he had forgotten to eat anything all day.
He strode briskly to the open window displaying the kitchen in full effect. Every cook was working hard to keep the pace of feeding all the mouths coming in. At nightfall there were at least a couple hundred hungry guards that looked for dinner, there were others as well who stood eagerly in the line. From the castle’s gardeners and hunters that gathered the very food being prepared, to the masons and servants that kept the palace pristine in every way. The cooks had their work cut out for them.
“Not dining out tonight, I see,” Caedmon announced as Xander took his place behind him in line. Caedmon was not just another guardsman that shared Xander’s schedule but was also his bunkmate who slept directly above him in their barracks.
“I’m trying to save money,” Xander replied. Usually he told his barracks companions that he ate out at a local tavern instead of collectively with them in the dining hall where the food was free and jokes aplenty.
“You run the risk of blowing your earnings when you go out every single night,” Caedmon said with a smirk. His pale features were accented by blue eyes, thick lips, and a nose that had been broken when he was seventeen. All in all he was a good looking man and drew the attention of many of the handmaids around the castle. The line moved forward and Caedmon’s gaze drifted to those handmaids even now, retaining his smile as he mentally chose where he would sit once he had a plate.
“I hardly ever eat here anymore,” Xander said as much to Caedmon as to himself. “You don’t think ill of me for that, do you?”
Caedmon looked at his friend with a puzzled expression. “You are my greatest friend, Xander, and I say that truthfully. Just because you don’t dine with me every day does not make me think any less of you.”
“I know… I suppose I just wanted to make sure,” Xander replied. His emotions were tumultuous at the moment and he was treading on dangerous waters. I have to curb this depression before Caedmon notices something is wrong, Xander thought with a frown.
“The only time I’ve ever thought ill of you was when you gave me this,” Caedmon said pointing to his slightly crooked nose. He laughed. “You’re lucky I never got you back for that. You still have the same straight nose you did when we were children, and gather more looks from the wenches in this place than I do. If I evened the score a little bit though…”
Xander brushed away his friend’s slow moving fist and smiled. “Time flies, eh? Six years… It seems only yesterday we were fighting in the orphanage yard over that slut… what was her name?”
“I don’t remember,” Caedmon replied. He suddenly guffawed at how absurd it all was. He moved to the window of the kitchen where one of the cooks was ladling out the portions on clay plat
es. “I trust tonight’s food is edible, Quintus?”
“If you don’t like it you can go throw your coppers away on the gruel they’re serving at Three Swans,” Quintus growled as he handed Caedmon a plate.
Caedmon glanced over at Xander who nearly shrugged as if he had no idea what the Three Swans was serving these days. His amber eyes widened as he realized his own invented tales and he nodded grimly. “That’s one of the other reasons I’ve decided to eat in the dining hall tonight.”
“Usually he prefers those used-up tavern wenches to being between the soft thighs of a handmaiden,” Caedmon informed Quintus.
Xander shoved his companion aside and took his own plate from the laughing cook. The two guards made their way across the dining hall and Xander looked toward the elevated dais where the king dined with his family every Sunday night. The week was far from over and the young guard sighed as he realized that Sunday would probably be the next time he would be able to look upon the fair face of his lover. She can deny it all she wants, he thought with a hardened mouth. I know that once she sees me again she will realize just how much she cares. Won’t she?
“This table looks good,” Caedmon announced and plopped his plate down next to a blushing young woman. Xander silently moved next to his friend and seated himself.
“How’s the guard life, Caed?” the young woman next to the soldier inquired. Her brown eyes betrayed an intimacy she did little to hide.
The guardsman gave her a subtle smile. “I wouldn’t much call it life, but it is what it is… Kayla.”
The handmaiden beamed as she averted her eyes and ate a small morsel of mutton from her plate. Caedmon glanced at Xander on his right and gave a covert sigh of relief that he remembered the girl’s name. Xander could have laughed but all he could manage was a weak smile. He pawed his food as though he were inspecting each piece for mold, looking from the meat to the potatoes and wishing he were sharing one of the lavishly prepared meals of the princess. He thought about her blue eyes. That pale blue that sparkled when she brushed the blonde strands of her hair away from her face when she sat atop him and gazed at his muscled chest and arms.
Caedmon finished rapidly, apparently wishing to excuse himself from the table of an overly affectionate young woman and a silent Xander. The melancholy guard quickly stuffed half of his mutton into his mouth and followed his companion to drop their plates back off at the window. They both walked briskly from the dining hall without a word. When they were halfway to the barracks Caedmon suddenly came to a halt.
“What the bloody hell is wrong?” Caedmon asked his friend.
“I…” Xander began. “Nothing.”
“This is me,” the soldier replied in agitation. “You never act like this, what’s got your girdle in a twist?”
“You say I’m acting strange?” Xander said. “Since when do you want to discuss feelings?”
“I don’t. However, when something is affecting you this greatly it seems to be the only solution we can come to. So have at it. Tell me what’s bothering you.”
Two captains marched past then and both Xander and Caedmon straightened their backs and held fists to their chests in salute. Once they were out of eyesight both men relaxed once more. “You want to get a drink?” Xander asked.
“I thought you were saving your money,” Caedmon said cautiously.
“Sure, but when was the last time we went to a tavern together?” Xander replied.
Caedmon paused as if in thought and brought a hand to his face and began to lightly stroke the stubble on his cheek.
“The point is that it’s been a long time,” Xander exclaimed. “So let’s go.”
“All right,” Caedmon said with a grin. “Now all we have to decide is what to wear.”
The decision was readily made for them, as always, for neither one of them possessed a tunic that was not grey or a pair of pants that were not black. They dressed in clothes that would not have the stink of iron and leather on them and left the barracks as soon as they were able, striding in matching faded leather boots. The drawbridge was down already for some of the castle’s men were still gallivanting about the city. When Caedmon suggested Three Swans Xander frowned and they decided to walk an extra quarter-mile to the competition, Neptune’s Tankard. It was a shoddy tavern but Xander did not want to have to explain why none of the Three Swans’ workers and patrons recognized him as a regular.
Three women were wiping tables when the two soldiers walked into the Tankard, not one of them so much as glancing up as the bell above the door chimed their arrival. And no wonder, there were over two dozen people seated at the bar alone not counting the other eighteen or so who were slamming their fists on the tables demanding service. Xander and Caedmon moved to the bar and shouldered their way in between two haggard men doing little more than look for life at the bottom of their ale cups.
“This whole building is made of wood,” Caedmon shouted to Xander over the deafening noise of the tavern. He started to laugh. “I didn’t think anyone made buildings entirely of wood anymore.”
“Who knows when this place was built?” Xander answered with a shrug. He glanced about and the wooden ceiling was black in some places as though it was still wet from the last rain they’d had over two weeks prior.
Caedmon turned to the barkeep and shouted above the din. “A pint of ale for me, and another for my friend here!”
“You’ll wait your turn just like everybody else,” the barkeep replied before filling two pints and handing them to the men on either side of Xander and Caedmon. He moved down the line to three chums who were calling him by name. They all shouted his praises when he approached as though he were a lost brother at sea returned home from a long voyage.
“I’ll serve you,” a voice said from behind the two guards. They both turned to see one of the tavern wenches, her rag still dripping from the table, with a wide smile. Her hair was the color of straw and matted by whatever bed she had slept on the night before, but despite her disheveled appearance she carried herself with confidence that gave her a sort of damaged beauty.
“Can we have two pints of ale?” Xander asked.
“You’re sure you don’t need any other type of service?” she asked with a sly grin. She licked her lips to make them glisten.
“So this is where all your money’s going,” Caedmon said with an approving nod.
“You’ll have to excuse my friend,” Xander said to the young woman. “He prefers the hard thighs of men over tavern girls.”
She laughed sweetly and moved closer to Xander to touch his upper arm. “I was actually speaking to you.”
Caedmon threw his arms in the air. “Well now I’m just offended.”
Xander smiled softly at the tavern girl. She’s a poor copy, he thought. But she’ll make her money elsewhere tonight anyway. “I’m sorry dear but I must decline. My friend would be so lonely without my company.”
“Too bad, I was going to say it would only be two silvers for you,” she said and offered one more smile before moving a bit farther down the bar. She gave one more inviting glance towards Xander and he blushed but knew it was all a ploy to entice him to her bed. Isn’t there anyone who possesses real feelings?
“Here,” Caedmon’s voice snapped his attention back to the present. He was holding out a tankard of ale with all the patience of a five-year-old.
Xander took the pint and drained it in a matter of moments, hoping the ale would help him think of something other than Roselyn. He placed the empty tankard on the bar, motioning for the barkeep to come fill it again. The agitated man nodded briefly and pulled the cork from a bottle of wine, sloshing some on the wooden floor in the process. The couple who took it did not seem to care anyway as the man pushed a silver piece towards the barkeep with one hand and took the bottle with the other. He and his woman stumbled out the door into a black night where the only light on the street was provided by the orange glow of the lanterns lining the cobblestone road.
“Something rea
lly is getting to you,” Caedmon said. He took a sip from his own cup. “I haven’t seen you throw a pint back like that in years.”
“Sometimes I just feel like… there’s not much significance to life if you cannot have what you want,” Xander said.
Caedmon thought of that for a moment and must have agreed for he finished his own ale in the next draught. He pounded the bar with his fist and pointed to the empty tankard before turning to Xander. “I don’t know. There are obviously times when I have to just do what I’m told, but the rest of the time I do what feels good for the moment… always for the moment. What else would you live for?”
Love, Xander almost said. “Well there are obviously people who lead better lives than ours.”
“Well that’s clear!” Caedmon shouted. “The people we guard have that privilege. They get to have all the benefits of life with none of the pitfalls.”
“Does that not make you depressed?”
“Of course it does,” Caedmon began, “if I let myself think about it. Why not just live for the moment, Xander? If something happens, then it happens. We could be a lot worse off.”
“I suppose,” Xander replied. He tilted his mouth in thought.
“Think of where we would be if not guards at the castle,” Caedmon said. “Three years ago you were checking wagons on Nereus. Now you work on Pontos, capital of Thalassa, as a guard of the castle itself not just skirting the walls of the city. You get to work in close proximity to the royal family, catching glimpses of a beautiful princess and have even found a friend in the prince.”
“Daemyn’s a good man,” Xander said. “He’s been kind to me.” But that wouldn’t last long if he ever found out about Roselyn and me.
“So cheer up then,” Caedmon finished. He slid six coppers across the bar and picked up two new pints of ale. “This one’s on me.”
Severance (The Sovereign Book 1) Page 3