Heir of the Gods

Ch. 9: A Change in the Wind

Elias rode through the royal park, his fingers loose on the string of the ash bow in his hands. He'd missed hunting for leisure. He'd missed riding fine horses. He'd missed life at the castle.

He had not missed the poor company. Or the conniving. Or the general snobbery of the courtiers.

Giant oaks towered around him, thick ferns and furry mosses making everything cool and green even as the sun climbed toward the noon hour. The only sound was the soft creak of the saddle and the dull thud of the horse's hooves in the loamy soil. 

Elias drew his middle finger along the goose-feather fletching, carefully scanning the underbrush. The officer's ring on his left pinkie winked in the shafts of sunlight that managed to fight their way past the forest canopy. 

Silence echoed around him. Even the birds seemed to have hushed, like they were also watching his passing. He half-imagined them lifting their wings to their beaks in a manner meant to be subtle but not, and whispering about him.

About the disgraced son returned to the noblest house of the empire.

It used to be a louder, jollier affair, when he was a boy. He hadn't even been able to draw back the heavier hunting bows then, but that hadn't really been the point. It had just been the thrill of getting to ride out with the hunting party.

Sometimes even the king would accompany them. Sometimes his father would be there.

He used to love this forest.

The leafy bushes about twenty yards to his left rustled and Elias twisted in the saddle, drawing the bow back. His horse swished its tail, chewing irritably on the bit in its mouth but otherwise didn't move.

Elias drew in a steady breath, eyes trained on where the sound had come from. The leaves stirred again and he let the breath out, finding that moment of stillness that occurred between one breath and the next.

The edge of the arrow glinted sharply, the stiff goose feather teasing at the edge of his mouth.

He sighed in aggravation when the rider came through and lowered the bow, letting the string fall slack once again. His horse stamped impatiently, but Elias kept the grey gelding reined in, watching the rider approach on a well-shaped chestnut horse, its coat like a freshly minted copper piece.

The rider was instantly recognizable to Elias, not because of who he was, but rather because of his similarities to her.

"Prince," Elias said, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head.

Unlike Malitech, who heavily favored the king with his deep black hair and his thin mouth, Marcus seemed to have inherited the best aspects of both his parents' physical traits. 

His dark honey eyes flashed gold in the sun, just as Cassia's did, and his mouth might have been beautiful if not for the wickedly clever smirk that always seemed to be playing at the corner.

Also unlike his brother, Marcus' hair was neatly cropped. Not worn at chin-length as was usually favored by the nobility. If not for his fine clothes, one might mistake him for a common soldier.

Had mistaken him for a common soldier, if the rumors were true.

"Lieutenant Lucans," the prince said. "Imagine finding you all the way out here."

Elias frowned, carefully returning the arrow to the quiver slung across his back. He remembered enough about this particular royal son to know that nothing happened by accident where he was concerned. 

Marcus spurred his horse forward until he drew abreast of Elias' mount. His sharp gaze took in everything from Elias' worn, black leather jerkin to his salt-faded boots. He tensed under the scrutiny and Marcus smiled faintly, like he knew how uncomfortable he made people and enjoyed the unsettling effect his prying gaze had.