The Prince's Suitor ManxMan

Chapter 14

Sorry for the wait! Enjoy and please comment. :)

Chapter Fourteen

Raphion stood.

"Follow me. If this charade continues any longer I may find myself without wine to pass the time. Neither of us wants to deal with my temper then. I will end – or begin this spectacle," Raphion stated, a new kind of determination settling in his eyes.

Not for one moment did Jaicous expect Raphion to reveal his knowledge, and true to form he said no more on the fatal subject. Jaicous crushed his irritation with sheer will and the incessant fight to hold onto his fading courage. They were surrounded, but anything Raphion knew now would not be enough to save them from the Gadarian barbarians.

They had stepped before the opening of the tent, wind gently caressing the flap ajar, when Raphion halted to face him. His breath hung heavy and clung to the air, drifting like the poisonous smoke of a fire. From pale to red, his face had flushed from the consumption of wine and the herbal remedy Jaicous had applied.

"Time will have passed until we meet again. We must pray for longevity, for both our sakes. I don't believe I need to tell you what will transpire if any man discovers your identity. I have faith in the surviving members of my personal guard to keep their silence, but a man will do anything in the face of self-preservation," Raphion said. He dug a hand into his pocket and took Jaicous's wrist, pulling his hand up. He pressed something cold and round into his palm and leaned closer until Jaicous could feel warm puffs of air brushing his cheek. "Take it. Hide it. And remember, the Suitors are always the first."

"Duly noted," Jaicous muttered, as startled by their physical closeness as he was of Raphion's haste to take the first step into Gadara's hands. A growing sense of his damnation grew and festered in the back of his mind. Without looking at the gift, he pocketed it.

Raphion nodded and pulled away. He raised a hand. "I'll find a way out of this. Provocation is one of your best talents dear Suitor, so do try to behave yourself."

They shook.

Jaicous couldn't find it within to smile, instead he grimaced and said, "Don't I always?"

Together they left the confines of the tent. Jaicous walked in Raphion's shadow, silently hoping for any outcome that didn't end with his head on a spike, and gathering the meaning of Raphion's words. Again and again Raphion reminded him of how perilous a folly his presence posed as Suitor on the battle field, even if Jaicous considered his title a temporary formality. A Suitor was worth more than gold could ever buy in battle, particularly alive, though he tried to forget that fact. By title alone he was more important than any other man alive, and that thought alone sent his stomach churning.

The atmosphere had darkened from cloudy grey to an endless colourless field. The circle of men, the remaining Aishion force, and the trees which had stood tall and foreboding were lost from sight. The sharp smell of smoke and ash assaulted his nostrils. The fires had been extinguished. The camp was silent. Jaicous strained for any hint of the men he'd heard not moments before, but the absence of voices felt louder than if they had all been speaking at once. His body tensed, waiting for the cowardly attack to strike.

Raphion's footsteps ceased. Jaicous felt Raphion's body warmth in the cold, calling like a beacon, an inch away.

His eyes strained to see through the darkness but every shadow flickered, dancing away in a flash, and he could not tell which was real and which an illusion of his mind. The dagger was a comforting presence against him, and he reached for it.

"I wouldn't do that," Raphion's voice was quiet but Jaicous felt a rush of adrenaline burst free at the suddenness and he almost struck.

Mid-air, a hand caught his wrist and Jaicous felt long slender fingers curl around his arm, nails biting, pulling him up and away from the weapon. Instinctively, Jaicous began to struggle, but the dark scuppered his vision and he found he could not pull away. For one last attempt he kicked back with one leg but his foot flew through nothing but air. He could not fathom a stable direction until a body sidled up and pressed against him, held him there.