Does It Matter?

Chapter 50

It took them a couple of hours to fully make their way up into the mountains and then they were there, they were home. Bug wasn't sure where exactly the border lay out here, but it didn't really matter. This was the land he was born into and artificial borders set by humans didn't define that. It was the rocks and the skeletal trees and the animals, the smell of the air and the breeze in his hair. It was freedom.

"I missed this," Dara said as he took in their surroundings. "I missed things I'd forgotten about entirely, if that makes any sense. The scraggly grass, the dirt. How dry everything is. How desolate the environment is until you look closer, pay more attention, and you see a lizard, a bird, a nest of ants hard at work. I feel like long forgotten memories of my childhood, my family, might be stirred awake by the smallest thing."

"It hasn't been so long for me," Bug said. "The only thing I'd forgotten was what it feels like to be free, because I'd never appreciated that when I had it. You don't even realise that is a feeling until it's taken away from you."

"This is the right thing. For both of us."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean it has to be easy. I know you loved him."

"Not loved. Love. My feelings haven't changed."

"Of course."

"You seem a little melancholy yourself."

"Mm..." Bug stroked his hand over Laurent's ears. "I had hoped that somehow what that vision showed me would come to pass. That somehow Brayan — and Maric as well, of course — would come with us. It didn't make sense, but even so..."

"I understand. I wish it could have been that way too."

#

The ride back to the manor was long, miserable, and completely silent. Maric was still humbled by the way his men had supported him in this. He and Brayan had chosen them carefully and Maric had always believed them to be loyal, but he couldn't have guessed that they would be willing to follow him this far. That they would help him commit treason because he had fallen in love with a slave and not even look at him with judgement in their eyes.

But perhaps he didn't deserve all the credit for that. Perhaps it was more than just loyalty. The men had come to know Dara, had seen his intelligence and passion for themselves. He doubted any one of them had still seen him as nothing more than a slave. He hoped every one of them would now see every slave as more than that, as Maric had come to. If they could have their perspective changed, perhaps others could as well.

Those were worries for another day, though. Right now, all Maric wanted was to wallow in his misery. As soon as they were back at the house, Maric retreated to his room and sent Brayan to fetch alcohol. When he returned, Maric took one of the bottles of wine from him and locked the door behind them.

Brayan glanced at the locked door, accepted it, and went and sat at the small table in the corner of the room with the other bottle of wine.

Maric sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep drag of his wine. "Do you think it will ever stop hurting?"

"I don't know." Brayan took a shallow swallow from his bottle. "Some things stay with you and always hurt a little bit, but never nearly as much as when they're fresh. I don't think, anyway. I'll admit I'm still young and I've only experienced so many things. Love is not one of them. Nor is heartbreak."

"Not even a little bit, now, over Bug? I saw you kiss him."

Brayan took another gulp of his wine. "I admit that I'll miss him. Beyond that, well... I hardly knew him."