Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

7

The city was sealed as once, six years before, it had been sealed against the escape of the emperor's most feared and hated outlaw, who had run away with a beloved royal daughter. No merchants, travelers, or tradesmen were permitted in or out as regiments of Karelinian city guards combed the streets, questioning citizens and searching homes and businesses for any trace of Ealin or Princess Uarria.

Meanwhile, Uachi wasted no time. Were Ealin in the city, he had every confidence that she would be uncovered by the guards, but he had little faith that she was still within the walls of Karelin. No: Mhera's vision had been clear enough, and Uachi knew by now to trust the empress's Sight.

Ealin was going to the archmage, and she was taking the princess with her.

Stationed at the northern gates of the city, at the shoreline, Uachi oversaw the provisioning of the Windborne for a journey south. As he organized his soldiers and coordinated the search of the city, he prayed to a goddess upon whose name he had very seldom called in his life, hoping that Ealin had not traveled by the blood.

There was a puzzle here to be unscrambled. Uachi was not yet in the right state of mind to unravel the threads of it all. He might never be, not until he could speak with the woman who had broken his trust and his heart in the process. The woman who'd betrayed not only Uachi, but the man Uachi loved above all others.

Uachi had first met Matei the day he arrived in the rebel city of Hanpe, carried on the coat tails of revolutionaries who'd taken pity on an urchin in the unforgiving streets of Karelin. The boys were of an age, both just past the threshold of manhood, and they went into their training together.

Ealin was the first person Uachi had ever been with, but Matei was the first person Uachi had ever loved. Even as a boy, the future Rebel King was whip-smart, handsome, and a natural-born leader. He had always believed in something far bigger than himself, and in knowing him, Uachi came to believe in it, too. Matei could inspire in anyone a passion for an unattainable dream. His aspirations made it easy to adore him, and his willingness to work in the trenches alongside his people—people another man might have ordered about like inferiors—made it easy to respect him. Matei could handle a blade as if he'd been trained to it from his infancy, which Uachi would later learn was because he'd been born a prince. He was as neat and graceful as a dancer, and Uachi had loved to watch him in sparring practice.

Next to him, Uachi felt like an oaf, for he had been trained in street brawls and scrapes and was better with his fists and his knees than a blade. With other company, Uachi might have drowned in his bitterness and his hate, becoming a criminal, a street thug instead of a soldier.

Matei took those same raw materials and turned them into hope, rebellion, and steadfast loyalty.

Uachi had always seen beauty in boys as well as in girls, and, though he had been sheltered in his youth from the broader world, he realized that this wasn't common. He could not help the way he felt: the bewildering blend of Matei's handsome face, serious nature, and impossible goals drew him in. Had things worked out differently, Uachi would have helplessly given the future Rebel King his heart.

It became clear early on in their acquaintance that Matei had no time for romance, though. Uachi had little more, and he had not yet moved past the darkness that had shadowed his youth. Besides, it was clear from the way his eyes lingered on the comely maids of Hanpe that Matei's heart was reserved for girls, and Uachi, understanding that his inclinations were different from those of most boys, was not about to confess his affections and risk being seen as an oddity or worse. Besides, Matei was Rhodana's foster son. There were no princes in Hanpe, but Matei was as near to a prince as they would ever have.