Daylight crept into the chamber little by little as he watched her sleep. Peaceful and deep against his own restlessness. He'd been unable to return to sleep after the dream of Galyn of Azura. The image he was sure would never leave him; heirs ring glinting in the sunlight, strong fingers gripping her thighs, his knife bejewelled and malicious next to her. Instead, he'd sat by the fire instead and finished his wine. It had not helped calm his raging thoughts.
As as the sun rose he examined his promise under its glare as he should have done under the moon.
Could he really kill Torrik as he had sworn to her he would do? Could he take his sword to the throat of his brute of an heir, and Vala's intended? Could he take the life of that soft fair-haired princess who'd sat pale and silent in every war council? Whose heart had already been broken by Galyn of Azura?
There had been a time when his honour would not have allowed it. When his word and honour as a soldier was a constant and immovable thing. He had pledged his sword to Zybar not so long ago. And now he sat in the dawn light debating how best to slaughter their king.
He no longer recognised himself. And he knew the cause of it. He lifted his gaze from his cup to the sleeping form atop his bed. He could still scent her pleasure on his fingers each time he raised the cup to his mouth and his need for her had long awoken too.
He had tasted her blood but once, barely, and yet it felt as though she swam through his veins. Her blood and bone so intimate to him now that it was as though he had been born with the knowledge of it.
She moaned softly and turned her body onto its side, reaching her hand across the sheets, almost as though she might be looking for him. Which of course he knew she was not. It was likely she looked for her dead husband in her sleep. Her tormentor.
When a soft whisper left her lips, he stood, crossing the chamber toward the bed. The scars of her back shone brightly under the birth of the day, reminding him again of the twisted image visited upon him in his sleep.
He could heal them. In a single gesture, a single offering, he could wipe Galyn of Azura's marks from her body as though they had never been there at all. Just as he had longed to wipe him from her mind.
Except she would refuse this too.
The pain is all I have left.
She had ever been a puzzle to him, and he sensed much more lay beneath that perfect surface of her. Facets she would never show him and that he would never see, and somewhere inside of him, he felt that like a loss. He mourned for it.
Reaching down, he thread his fingers through the lengths of hair which fanned out behind her on the pillow. Spun bronze silk which he knew smelled of Azurian sunshine. Lowering his head, he lifted it to his nose and breathed deep. Righting himself he let his mind wander, to what it might have been had she truly been a servant from The Golden Palace whom he had claimed as his own.
He imagined many nights like this, losing himself in the pleasure of her. He imagined many mornings like the one he wished for but would not get to have with her. Feeding her, bathing her, before watching her brush out the lengths of her hair.
He would show her the wonders of Leoth as he rode Nux through the Leoth sky. She would sit before him in the saddle with her head resting back into the warmth of his chest. He would fly north until they met the warm rain that fell without end through the Novus forest and turned the bark of the Komarra tree into sweet fruit. Or the green sands of Pelius that glittered like gems in a trinket box. The cool waters of the Auricoma that swam with the great Zythur; the gentlest of all sea beasts.
Of course, he knew he should not let his mind wander so, that there was no use wishing for something which could never be. But he found such pleasing comfort in the fantasy that he was reluctant to let go of it. It was easy to imagine it could be possible when she lay asleep on his bed, both enclosed in his chamber hiding from the world around them.
When the sun rose and she awoke all would be as it had been - as it truly was. She was a princess of Calate and Azura and he a soldier of Leoth. It could be nothing more than what it had been this night. A pact he was not sure he could honour.
The dagger lay discarded by the bed and he recalled with sharp vividity the look in her eyes as she'd lowered it from his heart. Defiance. Even at that moment, she had chosen to defy him. It meant nothing. Only that she was smart. Only that she knew he was her only release. Her only way of getting home to her brother's kingdom.
A sound outside the chamber disrupted his musings, drawing him to alertness instantly. He lifted the dagger and stole quietly to the chamber door and pressed his ear against it. Would Paeris send an assassin? Orrin? Nay, they were not foolish enough. Neither would they find an assassin brave enough.
He listened, keenly. The footsteps were confident and not at all stealth-like, a purposeful stride even - too conspicuous to be that of anyone wishing to surprise him, but also too quick to be Mor or Khalle.
He caught the scent as he neared the gap and relaxed, opening the chamber door before the knock sounded on it.
'Then Xanthus spoke true, you are a free Leoth,' Elyon grinned. 'I had come hoping to find you exiled in shame - your weaponry and treasures ripe for pillage.'
Theodan smiled, 'Sorry, to disappoint you brother,' his was tone quiet so not to wake her. When Elyon came forward, clearly expecting to be let inside, Theodan shook his head.
'Vala?' he smirked. 'So not even the threat of exile will dampen your lusts,' he looked impressed. Theodan chose not to correct him. 'Fine, I shall wait downstairs for you.'
'The hour is close?'
'By the time we break fast and saddle, it will be,' nodded Elyon.
Theodan turned to look at Fara who continued to sleep deeply. The need to be next to her when she awoke was great. The need to feed and bathe her even greater. Impossible fantasies.
He turned back to Elyon and nodded once. 'I will dress and join you in the kitchen.'
Yes. It was far better he was not here when she awoke.
***
Elyon was tearing apart a length of Zurre bread with his teeth when he entered and raised his head in greeting. Mor stood at the well in the corner of the room and levered water into a large copper pot.
'You know, Mor, you really should come and live with me at Lethane - I've told Theo often enough he does not appreciate what he has here. This is the best bread I've eaten anywhere in the realm.'
While Theodan rolled his eyes Mor only tutted, waving him away with her hand but beaming from the compliment all the same. As she stood to lift the pot, Elyon wedged the bread between his teeth and moved to take it from her, carrying it with ease across the room to the hook above the stove. As she hurried behind him she spotted Theodan where he stood.
'Theo, come, sit,' she waved him in, 'I'll fix you some morning meal.'
'There is little time, Mor. Pack it for me and I shall eat on the way.' He scrubbed a hand over his face. 'I slept too long.'
Elyon raised his eyebrows bawdily while Mor nodded oblivious, moving immediately to slice him a length of Zurre bread to rival Elyon's.
'Tis no wonder,' Mor huffed. 'The ordeals you have suffered - the Princess too. I shall check the below quarters when you leave to be sure she slept well.' Mor threw him an accusatory glance which he knew was about his putting Fara in the servants quarters rather than anything else.
Gods, what now? He should have considered this. He should have carried her from his bed to the lower keep before the house awoke and avoided this very thing. Fool.
'Actually Mor, the princess sleeps in my chamber.' He saw Elyon's head snap up, his gaze smart and quick as it studied him. He pretended not to notice it. 'I found her in the Glissian pool, trapped between the bluffs. Did you suggest she bathe there alone?' He narrowed his gaze on Mor, accusingly. Shame pecked at him.
'Gods!' Mor's hand flew to her mouth. 'Oh Theo, I thought only that she would feel rested by the waters... I did not think. I should not have -.'
Theodan crossed the kitchen toward her. 'She is well, Mor, she is well,' he settled an arm about her shoulders and squeezed her tightly. 'A fright only. I carried her to my chamber so I could watch over her. She was asleep in moments.'
Mor made the sign of Edulis on her head and thanked the dark one. ''twas my doing.. May He forgive me... poor childe.'
'Hush, there is nought to forgive,' he said softly. 'She is well, I assure you. But bring her morning meal when she wakes. And have Khalle bring the bath to her in my chamber? I will be back with Jhaan before the half-moon. I do not know of his state, but prepare for the worst.'
Mor nodded gravely, muttering to herself as she finished preparing his meal pack. He avoided the weight of Elyon's stare as she did so, fixing his sword to his belt before taking the salted meat and flask of light wine from her, both of which he also strapped to his belt.
'You are ready to depart?' He asked, finally looking over the kitchen at Elyon.
'At your word, commander,' he replied evenly.
***
The unspoken words had only grown heavier the further they'd gotten from Teredia. And now that they were back on land the air was oppressive with them; a monstrous unwelcome thing than he could ignore no longer. As they took the small rise from the top of which they would bear the first sight of the harbour, he turned to Elyon.
'I have never known you to hold your tongue Elyon, even when it is what is called for. So speak what you must plainly for I will not be pressed upon it later.'
Elyon looked across at him and smiled, his eyes glinting with interest. Then he appeared to study Theodan a little harder.
'I admit I understood little when I bore witness to your plea before the court. And in truth, even back in Azura after your audience with Torrik it did not strike me,' he said. 'But now I believe I was an idiot not to see it sooner - for it is quite obvious.'
Theodan frowned. He liked neither the tone or the knowing look in his eye. 'Have you forgotten so easily how to take orders from me, soldier? Did I not say to speak plainly?'
'Very well,' Elyon sighed. 'As I see it, there is but one reason you would defy the King of Zybar to keep her. But one reason you would risk bringing her here under the plenary, and but one reason you would risk exile before handing her to Orrin and Paeris.'
'Is this some kind of game, Elyon? Because I have no patience for wordplay either...'
'Gods... you do not even recognise it for what it is, do you?'
He pulled on Nux's rein to draw her to a stop. Then turned his impatience on Elyon fully. 'Recognise what, Elyon? What is it you see so clearly that I do not!?'
A note of concern had crept into Elyon's eyes. 'You are in love with her, Theodan.'
He started with shock. Before very slowly an odd clawing sensation began to move across his chest. Warm and cold at once. Weighty and featherlight at once. The sensation bled down his arms to his fingers, where he tightened his grip on the reins.
'Do not be absurd,' he said after a moment.
'I see the change in you, Theodan.'
'Then your mind is soft where mine is not,' he snapped. 'I have never loved a female and I do not intend to start with this one.'
'Did not you not state after your audience with Torrik, that he sought to take that which was yours?'
'Yes. For I had claimed her and collared her and I was not simply going to hand her to Torrik because he demanded it of me.'
'Because she was yours.'
'Yes, because she is mine!'
Too late he realised what he had done. What crime his tongue had committed without his mind's leave. Elyon's eyes shone brightly, though not with triumph - with concern instead. He turned his head from Elyon's glare, unwilling to be pressed beneath it now.
The memories came then, as though finally unleashed from some internal prison, his own words the key. Softer than a vision, but just as vivid. Fara's eyes as they met his across the throne room - the recollection of how his breath had stopped while his mind and body came alive at the sight of her. As though he had known her a thousand moons ago and his soul had recognised its loss.
The flare of protectiveness he felt as she stared up at him from the sand and how settling the feel of her hand had been as she placed it in his. The first time he had pressed his lips upon hers and the taste of her blood as it bled into his mouth, as though he had known it long before. On and on they came, engulfing him, whipping his breath and body into frenzy. Purpose. Reason. Understanding. The scent of her pleasure as she found her release against his mouth, the sound of his name on her tongue. Warmth then. Spreading throughout his body. Soft, comforting, warmth.
Did he... love her...? Was he capable of it?
The male heart consumes all else into its darkness.... You are nought but destruction. We are destroyed.
No. He was not. He was as his father had been before him. Lust. Need. Destruction. He desired her, nothing more.
And yet he felt the flimsiness of that notion. For he felt changed by her. He felt as though she had stolen something from him - something he did not recognise as his own yet somehow knew to be his. Perhaps Sapphira spoke true, perhaps it was some feminine sorcery she used upon him?
'Gods, Elyon, I do not know. It is as though I no longer see myself clearly...' he searched his mind, his soul, his heart, for some way to reason what he now denied. 'I no longer see anything clearly. Mayhaps the council was correct, mayhaps she has blinded me?' He scrubbed a hand over his face and through his hair.
'Love oft blinds us to all else, Theo.' Elyon offered, softly. ''Tis no fault of our own.'
'And I say 'Tis not love,' he replied sharply. 'I say that whatever want I had for her was satisfied when I bedded her.' The lie almost choked him.
Gods he needed to find a way to have her returned to Calate so he could be done with this. So he could search for a female who made his blood roar just as loud as she did.
'I'll admit I am curious to know how such a thing came to pass... You would not force her so I am to assume she has forgiven you for the death of her beloved prince?'
Theodan shifted in the saddle, avoiding Elyon's eyes once more. 'She thought to offer me something in exchange for her freedom.'
'I see. And if the council demand her execution? Will you carry it out as you promised them you would?'
He turned to glare darkly at Elyon as his claws shot out. He may not love her but neither would he allow her to be harmed. 'Xanthus should know better than to discuss council dealings with his bedmates!' He growled.
Elyon did not flinch. Instead looking hard at Theodan without breaking his stare. It was many moments before he spoke. 'No matter which path you chose, Theodan, you will always have my allegiance, you know this.'
There are a great many who are loyal to you, who's allegiance to you surpasses even that of The Dark One himself. Have you the stomach for rebellion, Son of Ishilde?
He really had gone to madness if he was courting the idea of rebellion for a female.
Not just any female you fool, your female. You knew it the moment you looked upon her. You know it still.
'I know,' he nodded. 'And I am grateful for it, brother.'
He kicked his heels into Nux's flanks and they spurred onwards towards the port, riding in heavy silence for a time before he turned to Elyon.
'Then you and Xanthus have reconciled?'
Elyon shrugged. 'I was... selfish. I understand what must be, what he must be - I respect and resent him for it equally.'
'He still will not defy his father?'
'And he still will not dishonour Narila.'
'Mayhaps if you declared your intent for him it would free him of the burden? It would free him from doing that which he cannot do himself? You would have my support, Elyon. Draden's' too.' Elyon had loved Xanthus long before his blood and heart had matured to full grown. Such settled, abiding love. Assured and established. Not a fleeting lunacy like this thing which now plagued Theodan.
'He would despise me for such a show.'
Theodan could not speak to the truth of such a claim, Elyon knew Xanthus better than anyone he supposed, but he also suspected that a large part of Elyon's doubts was but fear. The bravest of soldiers in battle yet filled with cowardice in love.
'Then all there is to do is hope that once they are mated Narila will find a place for you in their bed.' He flicked a playful gaze sidewards which Elyon only scowled at.
'And yet, my situation could yet be worse,' he said. 'I could be blindly in love with an exiled princess whose beloved I slaughtered and who bedded me as she'd fooled herself it offered her the merest chance at freedom.'
Theodan scowled back at Elyon and turned to ride on in silence once more.
'What knowledge have you of Galyn of Azura?' He asked after a time.
'I hear he is dead.'
Theodan sighed impatiently. 'What knowledge have you of his reputation... of his... character?'
Elyon's expression turned thoughtful, curious. 'From what is known... considered honourable and princely and beloved by his people. Though in true princely fashion he was given to pleasures of the flesh and kept a wealth of concubines - male and female.'
'Gentle and honourable?' The scars upon Fara's flesh spoke a different truth.
Elyon shrugged. ' 'Tis only what I have heard. Why do you ask? A study of your rival?' His gaze had turned playful, taunting.
'He is no rival if I have already killed him,' Theodan stated, cold. Though of course, he knew this to be untrue.
***
They left Nux and Uki to grazing and proceeded on foot towards the main stretch of the harbour. He counted half of the ten Leoth ships returned from Azura already docked, the other half waiting in deeper waters for their chance to port.
The pier bustled with goods and people, families awaiting the return of their sons, females awaiting the return of their males, traders and prospectors watching with interest which goods were unloaded from the ships ready to be logged and sold. From Azura, Leoth had taken mainly furniture and silks, grain and wine - the gold and jewels they had given freely to Zybar. Leoth had no need of them. Did not place the same value on trinkets and baubles.
He could not see the ship carrying the Azurian children, and so he assumed them to be aboard those ships still waiting to port.
Only two hundred Leoth had gone to Azura and the returning soldiers streamed from the two ships furthest from the port gate, their eyes weary and their movements heavy and slow. The Leoth air would soon fill their blood and return their strength to them as it had done his own.
He could not guess what they would think when his men heard of the charges against him. How much he would diminish in their eyes. Did they resent him for being absent during Calate's attack?
As he approached the line of men disembarking the ship he slowed his pace, unable to believe his eyes. Many of his men were injured. For days they had battled Azurian soldiers and sustained barely a scratch and yet a single attack by a small force of Calatian soldiers had seen them wounded. Elyon had spoken of the Calatians' armour, of their weapons - of how like The Menodice they had looked under the moon, but he had not fully believed it.
He turned to Elyon in disbelief who offered him a grim nod. When they saw him the soldiers halted where they stood, bringing their tired bodies to attention before him. As he moved down the line he saw nothing but respect in their countenance, their heads lifted high and their gazes fixed ahead, yet without looking at him directly out of respect for his position.
He walked the line slowly, inspecting each soldier's injury in turn - some mere grazes, some bruises, the more serious injuries wrapped in soiled bandaging - all while guilt gnawed at him. He should have been there to lead and command his men. The council had been right. Paeris had been right. Where had he been while his men were attacked? In his own bed with the female who had likely caused this Gods forsaken war.
He felt something harden to stone inside him.
He stopped before a soldier whose name he knew to be Aydin. His cheek and eye blackened, his leg wrapped in soiled bandaging which was stained in dark red. The soldier lifted his fist to his chest in a show of respect to his commander.
'You are not in pain, Aydin?' Theodan asked him.
The soldier shook his head. 'I feel nothing but shame, Commander.'
Theodan narrowed his eyes. 'No soldier of Leoth should ever feel shame.'
'But I have shamed Leoth. We should not have... -.' He stopped, abrupt.
'Speak,' he commanded. 'You have my leave.'
Aydin blinked, uncertainty glimmering in the whites of his eyes. However, when he met Theodan's gaze, his gaze turned to stone, fearless. 'We should have remained in Azura and finished our duty, commander. Some Calate escaped.' His voice was tight with wrath. 'And now they bring the war to us.'
'The Azurian sun drained us,' Theodan replied. 'We return home to gather our strength.'
'But we retreated, commander. 'Tis not the way of Valka.' Aydin looked down.
Theodan looked at the soldier to Ayduin's right and saw him nod in silent agreement. Looking further along the line of men, their faces were - as he had first noted - weary, but they were also grim
and hardened with determination. With a need for vengeance. Calate had struck the first blow upon Leoth and their honour demanded retaliation for such an act.
Had he really promised her he would seek to prevent a war between their realms? What had he become under her? She was twisting his mind and heart against his own realm, against his own people.
He took a few steps back from the line of men and looked around him at the bustling port. Any Leoth not full-grown might never recover from the injuries inflicted by the armoured soldiers of Calate. It was his duty to see their enemies pay for this injury against His realm.
'We return to recover our strength in the land of our blood,' said Theodan. 'Warriors of Leoth you will have your vengeance - this I assure you,' he looked down the line. 'You will all have your vengeance!'
The men straightened and thumped their fists against their chests. 'By His command!' They cried at once.
Bidding the soldiers well onto their families, he turned and followed Elyon toward the last ship harbouring against the pier. He had gone only a few strides when he heard her call out to him. She used his name, which she so rarely did, that for a moment he thought it was Fara who called to him.
He turned and saw her a short distance away, still as stone amongst the moving bodies around her. Her face was bruised and swollen, her eyes glimmering with tears. She wore a long grey cloak which skimmed the ground. As he hurried towards her a look of fear crept into her eyes.
'Master, I beg you forgive me for addressing you such. I was just so gladdened to see you I did not think... I did not know how to—.' She shook her head and looked down, ashamed.
'There is no offence, Iaria,' he said gently, stepping into the space between their bodies. 'I too am gladdened to see you.' He reached up to touch a hand to her cheek but frowned when he could not find a place upon it where her skin was not bruised or broken. Fury rose in him.
'Soldiers of Calate did this to you?'
Tears spilled out of her eyes as she spoke, her breath thin and laboured. 'I thought I would die. I called out for you, for I did not know you had left the camp. I thought if you heard me you would come, that the blood call would bring you to me...' she looked down, away from his eyes. 'I tried to fight them but they...'
'Calate will pay for this...' He could barely speak, his voice a violent whisper. They would dare harm a consort of Asalla. A female of Leoth.
She looked up at him and shook her head. ' 'Twas a Zybar,' she said. He frowned, a low growl emitting from his throat. 'In the melee, I ran. The women were screaming... the children were... crying... I hid but they found me. They....' He felt his claws lengthen. Dogs. All of them, dogs. Even as they were attacked they found time to brutalise and hurt those weaker than themselves.
'I thought they would kill me, Theodan. But they did but leave me there in the trees near the beach... I went to the shore, into the water, and followed the shoreline back to the Leoth camp. It was Draden who found me and brought me to the ship with his men.' She cried still, sobbing breathlessly.
To comfort her he pulled her into his arms, whispering a prayer of vengeance upon those who had harmed her. 'Then I owe Draden a great debt,' he murmured against the crown of her head as she clung to him. 'By my blood alone I will see you healed, Iaria.' She weakened against him then, soft female sobs pressed into the leather of his tunic, her small hands gripping him with force. 'I must get to Jhaan - but I bid you wait for me by the port gate? I would take you to Teredia. You will heal under my charge.'
Her blue eyes shone up at him with gratitude. 'That would please me greatly, master.' She smiled, squeezing his hand. He pointed her toward the gate by the end of the pier and promised not to keep her waiting.
Elyon had gone on ahead and stood at the end of the gangway to the furthermost ship, observing as two soldiers carried an occupied pallet from the lower deck. Jhaan.
Let him live, Dark one, I beg of you let him live. He is an innocent. Let him live.
When the soldiers saw him approach, they stilled, lifting their heads in respect.
'You have served Leoth well,' he said moving immediately to Jhaan's side.
'Our honour is His, commander.' They replied in unison.
Jhaan's eyes were closed, his breathing soft and even. His shoulder was strapped with clean gauze which he was glad of, but lifting the sheet which covered him he saw a larger wrapping around his leg, partially stained with his blood.
'He fares well,' said the dark-haired soldier. 'The Lakaari gave us thakke seed to keep him at rest on the journey. Whenever he awoke in pain we made him sip it until he rested once more.'
'You have cared for him well,' Theodan modded. 'You have my gratitude. Caliyus is it not?'
The soldier smiled, proud. 'Yes, commander, Caliyus of Aphelion.'
'Then it serves that you are Paliyus, also of Aphelion?' He turned to the other. The resemblance on second glance was striking. If not for the shade of red in Caliyus's eyes against the blue of Paliyus's, if not for the black of Caliyus's hair against the bone-white of Paliyus's - they would indeed be identical. The Twins of Aphelion. Fierce fighters and skilled steelsmiths.
'Yes, commander,' Paliyus smiled. He had a gash running down the side of one cheek from temple to upper lip but seemed oblivious to it.
'They found Jhaan on the east side of the camp,' Elyon informed him.
'A sword in hand and rushing toward a Calate general on horseback as Cal and I came upon them.' Paliyus smiled, looking down at Jhaan. 'He is brave.'
'He is lucky to live,' Theodan countered.
'We could not prevent his injury, commander but be assured the Calatian did not stay upon his horse long.'
Theodan nodded his approval. 'I know you both desire to get home to your mother and your women, but may I ask you see him safely to Teredia before you do? You have guarded him well and I would trust no others to it now.'
'It will be done, commander,' Caliyus nodded. Paliyus too.
'My thanks. Find a wagon on which to carry him - there are many by the gate.'
'He will live, Theo,' Elyon said when the twins were a little distance away, Jhaan safe in their charge.
'Yes, he will live. But had I been there it would not have been in question.'
'Mayhaps. Or mayhaps he would have sought to impress you in an even more foolish fashion? You know how he longs to be a soldier. Now if he had been trained...'
'I will not have this discussion here,' Theodan replied, curt. Though he knew his friend was correct.
'Very well, then come. You have not yet seen all of the Aphelion Twin's heroics.' Elyon started up the walkway toward the lower deck of the ship, beckoning for him to follow. Once aboard, he followed Elyon toward the stairwell which led down into the lowest deck, where they met Draden upon the descent. His dark expression brightened at the sight of them.
'Gods, you are a welcome sight!' Draden exclaimed, pulling Theodan into a tight embrace. As though it had been far more than three moons since he had seen him last.
'And you, brother, and you,' Theodan patted his friend heartily on the back. 'You have returned our men and our ships home safely and for that I am in your debt. Iaria of Asalla too.'
'There is no debt, Theodan. I serve the realm as you do.' Draden turned to Elyon. 'You have told him?'
Elyon shook his head. 'I thought to give you the honour.'
'Honour?' Theodan looked between them, confused.
'Perhaps it is best you see for yourself... tis you he asks for.'
With a feeling of growing unease, he let Draden lead them towards the door at the very end of the gloomy corridor. The ship creaked and pulled against the water, the air around them putrid with the scent of waste and blood and the undercurrent of a briny sea growing more potent each moment that passed. He did not sail well. Did not enjoy the sea at all in fact. The motion of it, the scent of it, the power of it.
Beyond the door was a small room of eight compartments, each separated by steel grates, each with space enough to fit two Leoth standing. Cells. All empty except the one in the centre.
The occupant sat on the floor with his knees pulled up and his head between them, a thick loop of steel around his wrists and fixed above his head.
As they neared him he lifted his head to look in their direction. Human, definitely. Afraid, certainly.
What Theodan could smell more keenly than anything else was rage. Pure white rage. It tasted like sand on his tongue. Copper coloured hair hung dirty and wet over his face so he could make out nothing of the male's features.
'It took two and a half Leoth to bring him down - so he is skilled certainly,' Elyon said.
'We were instructed not to take prisoners, Elyon,' Theodan turned to him, scowling. 'Bringing him here to our realm is unsanctioned.'
'I spoke with the council before you arrived at court. They sanctioned it.'
Theodan turned to Elyon, betrayal coursing through him. 'And you spoke nothing of it to me before now?' There had been plenty opportunity on the road, but instead, he had chosen to talk to him of love?
'I had meant to, tis only that we did not get the chance.' Elyon smiled, shrugging.
'We need to know how they came to possess Leoth steel,' Draden cut in, sensing a need for diffusion. 'That is what is important. If they intend to bring war to our shores then we need to know how much of it they have. We need to know how to fight them.'
'We know how to fight them, Draden,' he growled. 'The way we fight any enemy of Leoth.'
There was a pause before Elyon spoke. 'He was the one who charged Jhaan, Theo.'
With a tired sigh, he turned to the Calatian, who sat silent and still and who appeared to be listening intently to the conversation. It was said that some on the mainland knew the Leoth tongue, and so it was possible he understood that which he had been able to hear. Theodan took a few slow steps toward the cell.
If he was any kind of soldier then he would not talk. If he was any kind of soldier surely he would die before giving away the secrets of his realm? Secrets his king had sworn him to keep. Secrets which if told to the enemy could mean the death of his people.
'What is your name?' Theodan asked him. In Leothine first.
The Calatian said nothing. He also gave no clue that he understood the words.
'What is your name?' He asked again, this time in the human tongue.
'I have made my terms clear,' spat the Calatian. 'I will speak to none but your commander!'
Theodan nodded. 'I am Theodan of Teredia, Commander of the Leoth Army. I am who you seek.'
The soldier's eyes narrowed, suspiciously. 'It is no trick?'
Theodan allowed a small cold smile to settle over his mouth. 'We are not in the habit of tricks, Calatian. Speak now or I shall rip your tongue from your mouth so that you will never have the chance to speak again.'
A tremor moved over him before he shifted his body - with some difficulty - up onto its feet so that he could attempt to stand eye to eye with Theodan. The human was tall and broad but the difference was still great. He stared up at Theodan a long time without speaking, no sound but the creaking of the ship and the kick of the water against her bow filling the dim space.
'Theodan of Teredia I have a message for you,' he said. Its cadence was so like Fara's own that it drew from him a measure of warmth toward the Calatian that he did not deserve. His voice had also taken on a new strength, an authority which he recognised. His own voice possessed the same quality. This man had also commanded men. Paliyus had correctly guessed him a general of some kind.
'Deliver your message, Calatian,' Theodan growled, impatient now.
The Calatian smiled then, cold but somehow startlingly familiar. 'Theodan of Teredia, your mortal tomb of flesh will pay the price of your sin over and over again until it is crushed to dust. And when we are done with your body, your soul will be forced into a hell so unimaginable that it will never find its peace.' His tone was entitled, his words swollen with confidence. 'For the death of our sister you will perish, Leoth. With the might of Gods and Men we swear you will pay for what you have done.'
Sister....? It was not possible... it could not be.
Yet...
....King Stefforn of Calate was survived by two sons and a daughter.
One son reigned now as king. The other...
...The other stood before him.
'Panos of Calate...' Theodan blinked, stunned.
The prince smiled, jerking his head back so that his hair parted and revealed his eyes. Golden. Like hers.
'And you are the beast who feasted upon the flesh of our beloved sister,' he spat. 'I swore to my brother that I would look you in the eye, Leothine. Now take me before your council. I have terms to discuss.'