The Wings of Ashtaroth

Chapter 5: Mazna: Section IV: Dashel

Dashel hadn't been supposed to tell anyone about the girl in the Feislands who Aurelius was pining for, but it was hard to keep secrets from Djana, and he'd needed someone to whom he could confide his misgivings. He scratched his head, guilty.

But Aurelius looked unbothered. He abandoned his kisses and straightened beneath Djana. "Her? A dream, a figment. I've forgotten her name already."

"You knew her name?" Dashel raised an eyebrow.

Aurelius laughed, but his expression was pinched. "No, I didn't. I must have forgotten that too."

Perhaps Bree's arrival had reminded Aurelius of his Feislanda woman, the one he'd wanted to run off with. It would explain his dark mood lately. Forgetting the woman would be a happy return to form.

Dashel reached behind Djana to clap Aurelius on the shoulder. "Good. Any less reason for you to leave is fine by me." He smiled, trying to catch his prince's eye and cheer him with a look.

It was easy to be cheerful when you were doing it for someone else.

A slave walked by, carrying a platter laden with fruit. Aurelius eyed the man, who was very handsome, but didn't call for the slave's attention. "You're a good friend, Dashel."

No doubt Aurelius meant it kindly, but it stung like a dismissal.

Dashel smiled through it the way he always did.

"What did you think of the princess?" asked Djana. Bree and her presentation to the court yesterday were all anyone would talk about.

Dashel sipped his wine, watching Aurelius watch the slave, watching Aurelius frown as someone grabbed the slave's cock beneath his tunic. Dashel gave his prince's leg a kick, knowing all too well the look in Aurelius's eyes, like he was about to intercede.

"I felt sorry for her," said Dashel. "When I met her at the dock they looked like boiled lobsters, the two of them."

Djana laughed. "And you, Aurel? What did you think of Ashtaroth's virgin bride?"

"I think she's no virgin," Aurelius spat.

The comment was so sharp and shocking Dashel thought for a moment the music had stopped, but the dirge went on as before. It was only Dashel's surprise that had made it seem so.

Once the same surprise had faded from Djana's face, she glared at Aurelius. "A cruel assumption to make, based merely on a woman's appearance. I suppose you think all foreign women loose."

Dashel snorted, trying to ease the mood. "I wonder why," he said with a look at Djana.

She elbowed Dashel in his side.

"She'll make a fine bride, I'm sure," said Aurelius, "but you can't tell me none of you are worried for my brother."

"Not worried for him," said Djana, "but jealous of her, perhaps a little."

Dashel did worry some. Ashtaroth behaved like a man much younger than his twenty years, and just this morning Dashel had heard a Semassenqen whisper to another that given how thin Ashtaroth had grown, he might not live to be much older. But that was only talk—surely if that were true, Samelqo would have abandoned the notion that Ashtaroth might succeed Eshmunen?

Aurelius grunted. He looked more than sour, he looked tired. The weight of whatever burden Aurelius was shouldering dragged Dashel down with him.

It had been nice to forget for a while, to put Hesh behind him. Since the attack on his family, it was harder than usual to distract himself. He'd spent as much as he could of the days since the attack in his cups, but it hadn't been enough. Even the fact that Hesh's thug had been found dead near the palace walls not an hour later couldn't mollify Sarah or Yeremi, and so it had done nothing to calm Dashel either. And there was Safot—he'd been hovering over Hiram and Reshith that day, before Daroth had turned up and distracted everyone. Dashel had meant to keep an eye on him, but he'd failed at that, too.