Lord of the White Hell Book One lotwh-1

by Ginn Hale

  Elezar acknowledged his younger brother with a quick, affectionate wink and then continued to speculate with Atreau about which of the horses were the best jumpers.

  "Lunaluz has endurance. On the long course there is no way Llama can beat him. That's where I'm putting my money."

  Atreau seemed about to reply but then his eyes flicked to Kiram.

  Elezar looked as well and frowned. "Don't just stand there like a knee-less moron. Sit."

  "What about Fedeles? Shouldn't someone sit with him?" Kiram stepped back from the table. "I think I should wait for him with the first-year students."

  "Fedeles is none of your concern. He sits where he wants, with whomever he wants," Elezar stated. "You, on the other hand, will sit where you've been told to sit, Underclassman."

  "I am not your-"

  Nestor jerked Kiram down onto the bench beside him.

  "Fedeles is eating up in his room today, and we'll get better food here anyway," Nestor said quickly. Then, to Elezar, "It's fine. Really. Kiram and I are happy to eat with you. Thanks for the invitation."

  "That's good to hear." Elezar eyed Kiram suspiciously. "Because I'd hate to think to that Javier's underclassman is some kind of ungrateful runt who'd insult his generosity."

  "No, no, it's nothing like that. We're both honored and thankful for the chance to dine with the older students." Nestor bumped Kiram's leg under the table.

  Kiram knew he was behaving badly and a little pointlessly as well. It was Javier who he wanted to argue with, not Elezar. As it was, he was only aggravating Elezar, worrying Nestor, and living down to the Haldiim reputation for rudeness.

  "I don't mean to seem ungrateful." Kiram bowed his head politely. "I had assumed that Upperclassman Javier would want me to remain with Fedeles. But since he's dining privately I would be honored to accept the invitation to your table. Thank you, Upperclassman Elezar."

  "Well, that was prettily said," Atreau commented with a smile.

  "Pretty indeed. I guess your friend has some manners after all, Nestor." Elezar tossed a copper coin to Nestor and gave him another conspiratorial wink. Nestor beamed as he stuffed the coin into his jacket pocket.

  Kiram felt almost as if he should take a bow, like some kind of stage performer. Instead he accepted a glass of lemon water from a servant.

  Elezar returned to his conversation with Atreau. Other third- and fourth-year students took their seats at the table, adding their opinions to Elezar's speculations on the upcoming tournament. Nestor watched their interaction with fascination, now and then pushing his spectacles up higher on his sharp nose.

  Kiram watched them as well. He had seen all of these students before, though he knew very few of their names. They were the young men he always saw lounging around Javier, laughing at his jokes and marveling at his tricks. None of them seemed to take more than a moment's interest in either himself or Nestor. They made wagers with Elezar or chatted among themselves, grumbling about mathematics and law classes.

  Nestor pressed closer to Kiram as a last upperclassman squeezed in on his left. With both Nestor and himself added to the table, the seating was tight, but Kiram noticed that no one took the space to Elezar's left, where Javier usually sat.

  Kiram wondered if the place was left empty out of respect for Javier or fear of him.

  "Elezar," a freckled young man called from the far end of the table. "Who's that with your brother? Is it Javier's brilliant Haldiim?"

  Kiram felt his face flush but he wasn't sure if it was due to being called Javier's or brilliant.

  "It is, indeed," Elezar replied. "Second-Year Underclassman Kiram Kir-Zaki."

  The freckled upperclassman narrowed his gaze at Kiram. "So, are you really the genius Scholar Donamillo claims you are, or did Haldiim seduction get you into the academy?"

  Kiram gripped his glass, barely suppressing the urge to hurl it at the freckled upperclassman.

  "He won the Silver Leaf Challenge last year, and he's already beaten both your best scores in Scholar Blasio's class, Morisio, so I'd put my money on him being a genius," Elezar replied before Kiram could respond. "You're just going to have to accept that Master Donamillo has found a new favorite."

  "Jealousy is so unbecoming in a gentleman," Atreau commented. The freckled upperclassman went scarlet but said nothing. He drank a little of his water and kept his eyes averted. Kiram was astounded. Both Elezar and Atreau had come to his defense without hesitation. He wanted to thank them but neither of them seemed to think anything of the interaction. They were already back to discussing shield designs and the newest black barrel cannons.

  Javier had said that Elezar would protect him but somehow Kiram hadn't imagined that it would be from his own peers. Kiram was suddenly glad that he'd come to the third table. For the first time he had a hope that he might one day belong in the academy.

  For the rest of the meal, he and Nestor quietly exchanged comments on the superior quality of the bread and stew served at the high tables. Slices of soft golden cheese were served along with fresh apples and pears. Nestor looked like he might weep from joy as he devoured the fruit.

  Kiram enjoyed the food as well but he found himself glancing to the door from time to time, wondering when Javier would return from chapel.

  After lunch and through his afternoon classes, the thought lingered with Kiram. Between art and history he dashed back up to their shared room, but there was no sign that Javier had been there.

  How long could his penance last? Terrible images of ruined flesh rushed into his mind and Kiram's worry increased.

  When he and Nestor took dinner at the third table with the upperclassmen, Genimo and Fedeles were there as well. Fedeles sang the names of his favorite horses and leaned against Kiram. Genimo sat at the opposite end of the table. The place at Elezar's left was once again left vacant.

  Kiram hardly noticed his meal. Nestor pointed out that this was the first time that he could recognize the cuts of meat on his plate. The pork and apples were followed by a course of cheese and bread. Kiram chewed without really tasting anything.

  He couldn't help but notice that Elezar also stole glances at the door as if he, too, worried over Javier's long absence. After dinner Elezar stepped up next to Kiram.

  "If he isn't back by dark come get me," Elezar whispered. Then he strode away to join Atreau and the other upperclassmen for an evening ride.

  Kiram went to his room to work on his history paper while he waited. He managed to write a string of obscenities about Nazario Sagrada, also known as Nazario the Impaler, Scourge of the Haldiim. He couldn't concentrate. He paced past the windows relentlessly. Outside the blue sky turned golden as the sun burned over the horizon. He suddenly thought that he'd been doing the same thing last night, pacing and waiting for Javier. And Javier had not come.

  Kiram gave up on waiting. He headed downstairs and across the academy grounds toward the chapel.

  A high wrought iron fence surrounded the ornate building. Small, flowering trees and rose bushes filled the inner courtyard. Deep gold light flashed off the glittering stained glass windows of the sanctuary building.

  Kiram peered over the wall and then very cautiously swung the wrought iron gate open. He was forbidden from entering the chapel, but he tried to assure himself that the courtyard might be a different matter.

  Still, his heart pounded wildly as he stepped on Cadeleonian holy ground. He crept from shadow to shadow, slowly circling the perimeter fence, searching for any sign of Javier.

  Kiram found him lying under a pear tree. His white skin shone like moonlight from the shadows of the tree. His eyes were clenched closed and dark blood pooled around his outstretched arm.

  Chapter Ten

  Panic bolted through Kiram, scattering his thoughts in a dozen different directions. A stream of blood still trickled down from Javier's wrist. Kiram had no idea what to do.

  Only the memory of his physician uncle's battlefield stories gave Kiram any direction. He whipped off his jacket and dropp
ed down beside Javier. As he wrapped the sleeve of his jacket around Javier's arm he noticed that there were already bandages swathing his wrist. Javier's dark red blood soaked through them.

  Kiram knotted the sleeve of his jacket just above Javier's elbow and twisted it tight to form a tourniquet. He should have used some kind of stick to twist the knot even tighter. Kiram was sure his uncle had mentioned using a stick, but Kiram didn't dare let go of the jacket now. He held the thin cloth in place, applying pressure to the wound.

  His uncle always said to apply pressure. Kiram wracked his memory for anything else. Raise the limb above the body; slow the flow of blood from the heart to the wound. Kiram lifted Javier's limp arm up onto his lap.

  This was what his uncle would have done, wasn't it? Kiram couldn't remember his uncle ever saying he'd used a jacket sleeve for a tourniquet.

  Nor had he ever mentioned how hot fresh blood felt or how pungent it smelled. He had not told Kiram that a man's mouth could turn ice blue from blood loss or that his taut muscles would loosen and hang like slabs of cold meat. Javier's chest didn't rise or fall.

  Kiram felt suddenly, sickeningly sure that Javier was dead. Something between a wail and a sob clenched Kiram's throat but he couldn't get the sound out. He couldn't even pull in a breath. Every muscle of his body seemed to clench and shake.

  Then Javier opened his eyes. He looked at Kiram and forced a slow smile, as if his own death were a joke.

  "Well, if it isn't Kiram Kir-Zaki. What are you doing here?"

  "I came to find you." Kiram could barely gather his thoughts to speak. He was relieved that Javier was alive but almost unable to credit it. "Ybu were-you looked like you were dead."

  "Yfes, I do that from time to time." Javier's laugh emerged as a dry rasp. He closed his eyes and, as if it took all his concentration, drew in a slow breath.

  Faint color returned to Javier's lips, though his skin still felt cold. A living tension slowly spread through the muscles of Javier's body.

  Blood clung to Kiram's fingers like hide-glue. He tried to wipe his hands on his pants but they wouldn't come clean. "There's so much blood."

  "Muerate poison keeps wounds open. It can be a little messy."

  "You weren't moving." Kiram found the quaver in his own voice disturbing. He shouldn't have been this upset. Javier was alive and he seemed to be recovering his strength. But the thought of his death, the sensation of his limp body, and heat of his blood had been burned into Kiram's mind. Never in his life had he been so close to someone dying. It had seemed so immense and terrible and he had been so utterly helpless to stop it. Now he couldn't believe that Javier was alive, staring up at him and carrying on a conversation as if this were a trivial matter.

  "I think Scholar Donamillo must have administered a little too much of the poison before Holy Father Habalan bled me." Javier sounded disinterested. "I can't feel my left hand."

  "I tied a tourniquet around your elbow to slow the bleeding," Kiram said. For the first time he noticed little tremors moving beneath the blood-soaked bandages. Then he saw a tiny white spark skip over the mass of cloth.

  "Take it off, will you? I don't think it's doing any good now." Javier tried to sit up but then slumped back down against Kiram's thighs, muttering, "Damn."

  Kiram worked the knots loose and slowly unwrapped his jacket from around Javier's elbow. He watched Javier's wrist closely, fearing a sudden gush of blood. Instead more white sparks danced through the bandages. Javier's fingers twitched minutely.

  "You're not supposed to be on chapel grounds," Javier said as if he had just realized where they were.

  "No one said anything about the grounds, just the chapel." Kiram folded his jacket, to hide the bloody sleeve. His hands still trembled. He wished he could make them stop.

  "I'm not certain that the holy father would be sympathetic to that argument. And honestly, as exciting as this illicit meeting in the garden is, I think it might be getting a little late." Javier frowned up through the branches of the pear tree at the darkening sky. "We should get back to the dormitory."

  "You need to see a physician. Scholar Donamillo-"

  Javier shook his head. "Scholar Donamillo is hardly as entertaining as you are."

  "Entertaining?" The word was an utter anathema to everything that Kiram felt. "I thought you were dying."

  "Really?" Javier gave Kiram one of his sensual, mocking smiles. "Were you scared for me?"

  "Of course I was, you ferret-faced moron!"

  "Ferret-faced? Such harsh language on holy ground, Kiram."

  "How can you laugh?" Kiram hissed. "I thought you were going to die. I was terrified for you and you-you're just an utter pig."

  Kiram was horrified to feel tears welling up in his eyes. His vision blurred. He stood quickly and turned his back so that Javier would not see.

  "Kiram," Javier said gently, as if he were addressing a child. "I'm sorry."

  "No, you aren't." Kiram wiped his face angrily. "You're amused. You think it's all just some huge joke. But it's not. You were ice cold and there was so much blood and I-I really thought-I-" Kiram hated the way his voice broke. He sucked in a deep breath of air and refused to look at Javier. He didn't think he could bear the sight of another of his satirical grins.

  "Obviously you're just fine now." Kiram kept his tone as cold as he could. "So I'll be going."

  "Don't," Javier said, but Kiram didn't stop. He stormed through the trees as if he didn't care who saw him. He wouldn't let Javier laugh at him creeping from shadow to shadow.

  The sweet scent of night jasmine floated over Kiram as he followed the winding path through the grounds. The air felt thick, like it might rain soon. Deep shadows filled the overhanging branches of fruit trees but thin rays of light still shone through the wrought iron bars of the gate. Kiram pulled it open.

  "Kiram, damn it, slow down!" Javier's voice was closer than Kiram expected and far more strained. Despite himself, Kiram turned back.

  Javier stood a few feet away, leaning heavily against the thin trunk of a plum tree. His breathing came in slow deep gasps. A sheen of sweat covered his face.

  "You left your coat." Javier gripped the stained blue jacket in his right hand.

  "I can't believe you." Kiram returned to Javier. "You can barely walk."

  "I could manage a hell of a crawl, though." Javier closed his eyes and bowed his head back against the smooth trunk of the tree. "Will you just put up with me, Kiram? I need your help."

  "You're an ass," Kiram said, but he couldn't summon any real anger. Javier already had his sympathy. It embarrassed Kiram to be so easily won back. "Fine, but I'm just repaying you for what you did yesterday."

  He ducked under Javier's right arm, taking half of his weight. Javier leaned against him. The scent of blood overpowered the jasmine in the air. He wrapped his arm around Javier's waist and helped him out through the gate.

  "I'm taking you to the infirmary," Kiram said flatly.

  "Please don't," Javier whispered, and there was nothing seductive or laughing in his tone. He sounded so desolate that it reminded Kiram of Fedeles. "I don't think I could endure Scholar Donamillo tinkering with me like I'm one of his mechanisms. Not today." He bowed his head against Kiram's neck.

  "You need a physician."

  "I don't, I swear. I've done this a thousand times. I just need time. The white hell will heal me." Javier straightened a little as if to prove that he was already recovering. Kiram could feel the strain trembling through Javier's muscles.

  "Fine, we'll go to our room. But if you haven't recovered your strength by the time the warden calls last roll I'm going to summon Scholar Donamillo up to see you."

  Through the twilight Kiram picked out the distant shapes of several students lounging in front of the dormitory. Farther across the grounds he thought he could see the shadows of riders returning to the stables. He thought he recognized Elezar among them.

  At the sight of the riders, Javier changed course, so that he was facing into
the deep shadows of the school orchards. "We can circle around to the back of the dormitory. There's a pulley lift near the scullery. We can use it to get up to the tower rooms without climbing the stairs."

  "Why don't I just go get Elezar?" Kiram suggested.

  "No." Javier shook his head. "I don't want the other students to see me like this. Not even Elezar."

  Kiram studied the footpath that skirted the perimeter of the orchard and then disappeared behind the dormitory. Remnants of an old wall jutted up in places and Kiram supposed Javier could rest against one of them if he needed to.

  Kiram took as much of Javier's weight as he could and they walked slowly. Kiram heard calls echoing through the trees and Javier told him it was a red owl calling for its mate.

  As they moved on, Kiram felt heat returning to Javier's body. By the time they had reached the cider shed, Javier was standing straight and moving easily. He kept his arm wrapped around Kiram, and Kiram held his waist, feeling the muscles of his hips flex and relax beneath his fingers.

  "So what kind of bow do you use?" Javier's tone was unconcerned and Kiram thought that the question had probably been chosen simply for the sake of conversation. It still surprised Kiram slightly, if only because it seemed like days since he had told Javier that he practiced archery.

  "My favorite is a short compound bow that my uncle Rafie brought back from the Yuan kingdom."

  "Yuan?" Javier's brows lifted. "That's a long way to travel for a bow."

  "His partner is a Bahiim." As always Kiram felt a twinge of embarrassment at the disclosure that his uncle's partner was a religious zealot who talked to trees, but then he realized that Javier probably didn't know much, if anything, about the Bahiim. "They traveled a lot when they were both younger. Now they've settled down in Anacleto."

  They passed between the shadows of overhanging tree branches and shafts of dull gold sunlight. When the warm light fell across him, Javier's white skin looked as if it had been gilded.

  "What kind of business does he do? Your uncle, I mean?"

  "He's a physician."

  "So, he and his business partner traveled to Yuan just to practice medicine?" Javier raised a black brow; his expression was slightly teasing. "You're sure they weren't smuggling Sueno root?"