Victory's Price

Wolf (Part Sixty - Five)

Chapter 65 

Arriving back at Eyrr, the players were greeted by the sound of swordplay despite the lateness of the evening.

"Does this place ever sleep?" Wolf asked as their vicinity silenced a group huddled around a blazing fire.

"It is difficult to sleep in times like these."

Wolf snorted.

"When legends walk the streets." He muttered sarcastically, skin crawling beneath the pressure of every stare.

Phoenix casually rolled her shoulders beneath the scrutiny, deeming the attention too meagre for her interest. She had dismounted on the outskirts of town, choosing to walk alongside mounted Wolf. He had said nothing about protocol and the risk that it may implicate a more humble standing for her. Red's Phoenix had always walked on her own two feet. It had sculpted her a far more potent reputation than any she could have crafted by conventional methods. But still it made Wolf uncomfortable to be looking down on her.

She tilted her head up to look him in the eye.

"What are you thinking?" She asked.

"Nothing." He replied, swinging easily off the mount to join her side.

And then he realised the connotations of her words.

Not only did she not know, she was comfortable enough to allow him that knowledge. Glancing surreptitiously toward her again, Wolf wondered if she even realised.

Yes, he concluded, watching her openly now. She knew everything.

Except what he thought about her.

But, then, she could, if she wanted, she just simply refused to allow him anywhere near.

"Lord of Four Stars." She addressed him and he wondered if he could sense a playfulness disguised there or if he only wanted to. "Do not live so long in your own head."

"Hypocrite." He muttered.

"What?"

Her eyes narrowed but he was not ready for another battle about her past.

"Nothing." Wolf sighed, wrapping the horse's reigns absently about his wrist. "What do you expect my brother will want?"

"He is a king. All kings want control."

"Over you?"

"Over everything."

No one came to join them, no guard attested their rite of passage. Wolf swung a wary head around his shoulders, wondering if they were simply considered too important for this kind of formality or whether his brother's false crown had destroyed his inherent sense of organisation.

But the former was proved as they reached the tavern in which they had seen him last. Guards swarmed the wooden doors and not a single man slept in or around these gutters. But Wolf viewed the world with different eyes, now, and he could see that they were all exhausted, all struggling.

Even with a whole legion of men like this - the best the Motherland could offer - the chances of regaining the capital was slim.

"That victory you promised." Wolf prompted, nodding as the guards fell to their knees, chorusing the names of both players, "it would be worth it, you say?"

"Your city needs it."

Wolf pushed the door easily open.

"That is not the question I asked."

Phoenix continued to stare vacantly forward, not meeting his eye. Eventually she sighed, turning to face him properly.

"Every victory comes with a price and a price you will pay." For a second Phoenix held her words, and then she continued. "It is a price, however, that I think you can bear, a price that comes with more benefits than its single intention."