For Lord and Land

For Lord and Land
By: Delilah deSora
Part 2
Chapter 4

**

Betrayal.

What a strange word. I have always wondered how a single word could contain all the hate and pain associated with the twisting of trust between two people. You may think it odd for me to wonder over such a thing but it is not so strange at all.

Betrayal has colored my fate. It has cursed my family and brought pain to all who bare my name. My father was obsessed with Saraes’s betrayal of my family. When we were together and no one would overhear us he would curse the Aidan Emperors and whisper to me of the land that once belonged to my family.

Therefore I am no stranger to the pain and hate left in the wake of betrayal. Yet recently I have come to question it. I have read of wars fought for generation after generation just because once upon a time a person betrayed another and I think “how stupid! Why should their descendants be cursed to this legacy of pain just because two people hurt each other in the past?”

I think that even now when I find myself among my cousins who curse Cassan and his bloodline. They urge me to hate him, to hurt him and I understand their grievances with the Aidans but . . . why should Cassan, who has never raised a hand in anger against me or any of the others, be pained because of what his grandfather did?

They think my hand has not struck him down because I am powerless against him. How wrong they are! Cassan’s entire rule rests in my body! He would never take me against my will for such an act is the greatest abomination to him. I have seen him read the reports of such acts and they trouble him so greatly his entire body is wracked with tremors. To take me in such a fashion would be impossible for him.

I have lied awake at night, running through all the arguments and tried to think of how it would be if I were to refuse Cassan all of his days until the madness ate him up. It is a horrible thought and I can’t bring myself to hate him enough to force him to such a fate. I can’t bring myself to hate him at all.

He has such wonderful plans for his people. He even tells me of his plans for me! We have gone over my great uncle’s journal and read his story together. At the end Cassan turned to me and declared happily that he had finally come up with a new name for what I was because he knew that I hated to be called a sex slave. He said he’ll call me and all those that come after me the ‘Emperor’s Leviathan’. I laughed and told him that we’d still just be sex slaves. He just shook his head and argued with me late into the night that my powers and his need of me made me so much more. I pretended to laugh such notions off but inside they made my soul sing. I was raised to be just a slave in the Emperor’s court but maybe one day I’ll be more. Who knows, maybe one day the court will look at Llyrs like me and say “that is the Emperor’s Leviathan” and spare a smile for them.

Or maybe I am just a starry eyed slave who wishes for what can never be. I can’t help it, though. Cassan’s passion makes me believe. His words force me to open my eyes and see what a wonderful future might await us all. His enthusiasm drives us all to better ourselves.

No, I do not hate him and I will never punish him for the harm that has come to my family. The Llyrs betrayer was not he.

And perhaps, it is time to forgive after all.

-River Llyr
Emperor’s Leviathan
Year 65

**


Cian woke to a throbbing head and the urge to vomit. He rolled onto his side and heaved, which only made his head ache worse. He immediately regretted opening his eyes for the bright light shining in through the skylight went straight to his beleaguered brain as sharp as a needle. He heaved again, this time managing to empty his stomach over the floor.

He heard a door open but he was too weak to do anything other than lie trembling over the edge of the bed, his eyes closed tight against the light. His father’s voice rang out, ordering the skylight shaded among other things. Hands slipped under his shoulders and helped him lean back against a pile of pillows. Nausea again threatened at the movement but he resisted it successfully.

Someone had responded to his father’s order for shade because the room was suddenly dropped into a soothing darkness. Cian forced his eyes open and stared up into a worried face.

“Father?” He asked, wincing at the taste on his tongue.

His father nodded and handed him a glass, which he gladly emptied. “How do you feel?”

Cian groaned and brought a hand to his head, blinking in surprise when he encountered a thick cloth wrapping covering his forehead. “Awful. What happened?”

“Sibley said you collapsed suddenly and struck your head against the rail when you fell. His shouts woke the whole household,” his father’s face took on a pinched look, “Scared us nearly to death! There was blood all over him and the floor.”

Cian winced and pulled his hand away from his head. He managed a weak smile, hoping to put his father at ease. “Is that all? I’ve had worse.”

His father shuddered and turned away. “I don’t think this household needs any more excitement for awhile.”

“I’m sorry. It . . . it must have just been everything that’s happened recently. Caught up to me I guess.”

A sigh escaped the older man and it pained Cian to see how much the last few days had aged his father. “It’s not surprising. Your mother has taken ill as well. She wakes up screaming every night. She finally gave in to letting the apothecary prescribed her a sleeping potion. I’ve been trying to get Sibley to take some as well but he refuses. He hasn’t slept at all since you fell.”

Cian frowned. “How long has it been? You make it seem like weeks.”

His father eyed him. “Days, actually. Six. Nearly a week.”

The knight blinked slowly. “Six? I wasn’t even out for two when my horse threw me into the rocks durmy tmy training!”

A sad smile crossed his father’s face. “You’re older now, things hurt more. Besides, the healer thinks you’ve just pushed yourself to hard. When your body got the chance to rest it kept you down until it was fully functional again.”

Cian shook his head and instantly regretted it as pain lanced through the area behind his eyes. “I will need to go back soon.” He murmured, reaching up to touch the bandage over his forehead.

His father sat on the edge of the bed. “I know. But . . . perhaps you can find an assignment here.”

“Here?”

“Yes. The house is emptying, Cian. All its young voices are gone or leaving. I was proud when both you went off to become knights but now thoughts plague me that once never crossed my mind. When you’re young you think you will live forever, that the world will never change. Then something like this happens and you realize that your time here is limited. I built a household from scratch, Cian. I built it with my own hands and sweat but I forgot something. I forgot to add the blood to keep it going after Igonegone.”

“I don’t understand.” Cian said, frowning.

His father sighed and looked at him wearily. “This is becoming a home for the old. Its children have fled its halls. Who will take it over when I am gone, Cian? I had two sons but in my pride over their achievements I never considered that it would take them away from here. I never considered that I had failed to raise one of you to take over this household. I suppose I always thought that one of you would eventually wander back to stay. Probably Dante who left so much behind when he followed you. But now . . .”

“Now he isn’t here to take over.” Cian finished.

His father nodded. “I don’t want to tear you away from what you love, Cian, but these are things I must think of now. Dante is gone. I have no nephews or cousins who will understand what needs to be done here. I would be willing to leave it all to Sibley but even he is leaving these halls.”

Cian stiffened. “What?”

His father spread his hands. “He sent out an application to Aidus, to the Emperor’s palace to be exact. There are too many memories here for him, he says. He wants to be close to Dante but he feels he is drowning in misery here.”

The knight chewed his lip. “There is a lot of competition to get a place at the palace. It will be difficult for him.”

“I wrote the recommendation myself and he scoured the university for all the letters he could. He even spent two days locked up in his workroom making up the most amazing collection of calligraphy documents I’ve even seen. They’ll probably take him for his artistic abilities if nothing else. No one has finer penmanship.”

Cian sighed. “I don’t know. Part of wants to be back in Ardae doing my sworn duty but . . . the future weighs heavily upon me, father. Perhaps, when everything is said and done, I’ll take a leave and return.”

His father nodded. “That is all I can ask of you.”

**

Ardel lay awake, staring at the night sky stretched out above him. Breath stirred his hair and a heavy arm rested across his stomach, holding him tight to the man spooned up against his body. His lips were pulled down into a frown and he resisted the urge to rub his hands against them. He knew it would do no good.

The ghost of the other man’s name would still stain them.

Inside of him he felt the dragon’s blood seething, its fire flickering and fanning against itself, threatening to burst forth. It was foolish really, he admitted. He had known that his Leviathan had possessed other lovers, just as he had but . . . but a part of him was betrayed and angry.

Dante was supposed to be his! It hissed at him. His alone. He owned the man’s present and his future. But for some reason that wasn’t enough to satisfy him. He wanted Dante’s past t

Stop! Ardel shouted to himself.

Dante murmured something in his sleep and shifted, pulling the Emperor closer against his body. Ardel grit his teeth and pried himself away, careful to keep from waking the sleeping man.

The stone was cold against his feet as he padded back to his own room. The time candle showed it to be not far into the night. Certainly not too far for a certain general of his knights to be asleep so he dressed, pulling the hair that brushed his shoulder bladack ack into a simple tail and slipped out into the hall.

A guard immediately fell into step behind him but he ignored the man, his mind too full of other thoughts. His mood was quickly darkening with each step he took but he forced it down, knowing it would do him no good to start shouting at the walls.

As he had expected Dorjan was still in his office, reading off reports to which his second was quickly scrawling notes on a sheet of paper. Both peered up in annoyance at the sudden intrusion but their looks immediately shifted to one of surprise.

Ardel leveled a glare at the blond man behind the desk who quickly murmured an excuse and slipped past him. He heard the guard behind him shift and Ardel turned his head.

“Out!” He snapped and the guard swiftly obeyed, closing the door behind him.

Ardel turned and met Dorjan’s stare. The two of them eyed each other silently, as though they were two dogs about to fight over territory. Which, Ardel supposed with a grave smile, was what they had been doing from the moment of his ascension.

Dorjan offered him a seat, which he accepted, watching as the older man reclaimed his chair behind his desk. He had to be nearing fifty, Ardel figured, but he moved like a man two-thirds his age. Like a mountain he seemed to only get stronger as the years moved by. His father had trusted the man implicitly, treating him as a valued advisor and the closest he had treated anyone as an equal.

Ardel had never known his father to be a fool so in his memory he was willing to let Dorjan maintain his post. At least until someone better came along.

“I have decided to go to our Ventae province of Fah’vale.”

Dorjan showed no surprise at his proclamation and it made Ardel wonder at what else the man knew. “I will be happy to accompany you.”

Ardel shook his head. “No.”

The general’s eyes narrowed. “My lord . . .”

Ardel held up a hand, forestalling his words. “We would only aggravate each other, Dorjan, and I will be hard pressed to maintain control over my rage as it is. I need someone who won’t antagonize me.”

He could practically see the general mulling over his words, weighing their truth. “There is only one other man I would send with you then.”

“I am not in the mood to argue as long as he stays out of my way..”

Dorjan nodded. “Errol is quick witted and silent when he is wished to be. I do not think he will . . . antagonize you, my lord. That is, not unless you are doing something that may put you in danger.”

Ardel nodded his understanding and they lapsed into silence for a moment. “There is another matter.” He said offhand.

“My lord?” Dorjan asked, the very picture of politeness. It reminded Ardel of his father who had always adopted the exact same expression when he thought his son was about to admit some childish mischief.

“I am curious to know where you found my Leviathan.”

Dorjan’s eyes took on a suspicious glint. “Aquilae, my lord. Where all the Leviathan’s come from.”

Ardel scowled. “Do not play me for a fool, Dorjan. I do not believe you capable of ignorance, especially not of my question.”

“As you wish, my lord, but I do not see what it matters.”

“It matters,” Ardel growled, “I will not share my quarters with a man I do not even know. Besides, contrary to popular belief,” he leveled a searing glare at the general, “I can’t have sex with him all the time. We share meals together, we must talk aboutethiething and I would know a bit about this man before I start sharing my innermost secrets.”

He waited while Dorjan stared at him in silence. Finally the general leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “Why not just ask him?”

Ardel’s mind had to rush to come up with a credible answer to that. As always it provided him with a choice bit of memory. “Because someone has made him think he is “dead” to the world. A ridiculous notion, surely, but one that is currently weighing heavily upon him. I hesitate to open such new wounds just to pry into his former life.”

“Why come to me?”

“You found him did you not? You were the one who brought him to me. You seem to know everything about everyone as it is. Surely you know of this single most important man.”

Dorjan crossed his arms across his chest. “And if I told you it was best to leave his past unknown?”

“I would be most angry with you.”

The general snorted a quick laugh that made the fires of rage within him seethe. He did so hate being treated like a child.

“My lord, whatever he was before is unimportant now. You say it is ridiculous for him to think he is dead to the world but you must understand. For all intents and purposes he is. Whatever he had achieved in his life up to this point is unimportant. Whatever he was is eclipsed by what he is now. You say you wish to make conversation with him? I understand that but have you not thought that perhaps such conversation would be cruel? He can never go home again, my lord. Why remind him of the things he has lost?”

Ardel laughed humorlessly. “You think that he will forget everything he has ever known just because you snapped your fingers and told him to? Ridiculous! Perhaps it will pain him to speak of it but it will pain him more to leave such memories to grown and fester within him. I know he was a Knight, Dorjan. He is used to be treated as a person of consequence and I believe he still is such a person.”

“He is a slave!” Dorjan snapped.

The Emperor stood, slamming his hands onto the desk and sending a pile of books crashing to the floor in his anger. “No! He is the Leviathan! He is the only one keeping me sane! He is the only one holding this empire together. Such a man should have a higher rank than all the petty lords of my court who do nothing but sit around admiring their wealth! He has fought for this land, giving up everything for it! I will not allow such loyalty to be cast to the wayside.”

Dorjan was a silent presence before him and Ardel practically shrieked in rage. With an audible growl he pushed away from the desk. “If you ever tell him such nonsense again, Dorjan, I will forbid you from entering my palace. Do you understand that, general?”

“Yes, my lord.” The dark eyes watching him were murderous.

Ardel whirled on his heel and stormed out into the hall, ignoring those he passed as he paced out his anger. He had hoped to get the knowledge he sought from his Leviathan’s former commander but it appeared such a thing was not to be. He supposed he could just go look at the records but he had a nagging suspicion that they wouldn’t tell him anything.

The appearance of a young knight coming out of a large ornate doorway provided him with a sudden unexpected opportunity. Biting back the sly grin he slowed and paused before the knight, who was watching him approach with wide eyes.

“I do hope you don’t mind me asking a question.” He purred, smiling brilliantly.

The knight smiled nervously and shook his head. “No, my lord.”

“Wonderful. I was wondering about something. I’ve heard some people speaking of a knight whom I am interested in hearing more about.”

“What is his name, my lord?”

Ardel smiled to himself secretly pleased with himse“Dan“Dante.”

The knis fas face fell. “I fear he is dead, my lord.”

Ardel nodded thoughtfully. “I gleaned that. It was recent, was it not?”

“Yes, my lord. Two months ago. He died in a fire.”

“A pity. You served with him?”

The knight nodded. “He was accepted a year before I was.”

“Isn’t it strange for a Llyr to be accepted into the knighthood?” Ardel asked.

The young man turned a confused gaze at him. “A Llyr, my lord?”

He hesitated, sensing suddenly that he was treading on very thin ice. “Yes, was that not his last name?”

The knight shook his head. “No. It was Kaemon, my lord.”

Ardel frowned. “You are sure?”

He received a firm nod and the knight gestured for him to follow. He found himself lead to a large hall where swords glinted at him from their places on the walls. He immediately recognized hal hall as the place where knights who died while in service to the knighthood were honored. Each sword had belonged to a knight who had given up his life for his land. Fixed across the front of the blades of each sword was a nameplate and the young knight lead him to one.

“It’s just a temporary plate until the real one gets finished but as you can see, my lord, his last name was Kaemon.”

Ardel’s eyes narrowed as he reached up and traced the letters of his Leviathan’s true name. His gaze traveled from the nameplate to the sword that hung behind it and he frowned. “That is an awfully fancy sword for a knighte coe commented, eyeing the engraved handle.

“It’s a ceremonial sword, my lord. Dante’s sword is probably down at the jewelers being cleaned before it is hung on the wall.”

“Ah, I see. Where was he from?” Ardel asked, glancing back at the knight.

“Wyrllyr, my lord.”

“Wyrllyr?” Ardel prodded, hoping for more information.

“His father was the head of the city guard. Married a woman down there so Dante and his brother had the Aquilaen coloring. As a joke we paid off the ironsmith to add fish to the hilt of his sword rather than the usual dragons.” The knight’s eyes widened suddenly and his mouth snapped shut but Ardel only laughed off the potential disrespect, recognizing the friendly gift for what it was.

“I’m sure he liked it.”

The young man nearly sighed in relief. “Yes, my lord. His brother wasn’t very happy about it but . . .” he shrugged.

“Who is this brother?” Ardel asked.

“Cian. He’s a senior knight, probably ten or fifteen years older than Dante was. He isn’t here right now, though. He had to take Dante’s body home.”

Ardel winced at the sadness he heard in the young man’s voice. “Did he ever mention somebody by the name of,” he hesitated a moment, forcing the strangely hated name from his lips, “Sibley to you?”

The young man paused, his eyes unfocusing as he considered the name. “I think he did,” the knight replied after a moment’s thought, “I believe the name Sibley belonged to a scholar he had known back in Wyrllyr. He didn’t say much about him but I do know they were still exchanging letters. They must have been close. I am sorry but I don’t know anything else about him.”

Ardel waved the knight’s apology away. “Do you think, perhaps, you could retrieve his sword for me?”

The young man hesitated and Ardel smiled at him patiently. “He is the first knight to die during my rule and I think he was well loved. I would like to honor what is left of him.”

That cleared up any misgivings the man might have had for he nodded firmly. Ardel, however, moved to block his path before he could complete the task. “I must ask that this stay between you and me,” he murmured quietly, as though imparting a grave secret, “I do not wish to appear too attached to my knights, lest an enemy decide to harm me through those that put themselves at the forefront of trouble. It would be too easy a blow that would wound me too deeply.”

The young knight bowed and Ardel let him slip away, smiling in satisfaction at his back. Let Dorjan keep his little secrets. Men didn’t just disappear with the scratch of a pen and the changing of a last name. You couldn’t lock them away and hope they would just cease to exist. Every man leaves a mark on those around him and as Ardel had hoped, Dante was no different.

Dante Kaemon may no longer roam the halls with his companions but Ardel was glad to see that his memory still lived on.

**

Cian drew in a deep breath and forced his feet to walk the last few steps to his brother’s coffin. In the morning a team of artists would arrive to add the final touch to Dante’s resting place. The marble lid that had been carved with his name and deeds would be placed atop the intricately carved casing and the coffin would be sealed away forever.

If he wanted to have his question answered it would have to be now.

His head ached horridly but he was barely aware of that pain over the rending hurt in his heart. Dante’s voice played through his head. Half remembered conversations and teasing insults had torn him from his healing bed and driven him to the family tomb. But those words paled to the single question that drove him the final steps to the side of the wooden coffin.

He had to know. He had to see what lay in his brother’s rightful place. He had to see the body, for it was the only way to chase away the fear that his mother had been right. It was the only way to prove to himself that his betrayal hadn’t cost his younger brother his life.

His hands were so bloodless they felt frozen as he struggled with the lid. After an eternity of careful work he had freed the locks that held the coffin closed and pushed it open. Swallowing he forced his eyes open to study the body he had been sent back with.

He had to admit that Dorjan had done well in choosing a body. The man had the correct height and build to double for his brother. There were no features left on the burned skin to give any indication that the man was someone other than who he was supposed to be.

Cian’s eyes scanned down the body dispassionately, coming to rest on the rings the dead man wore. He recognized Dante’s family and personal signet rings as well as a ring his brother had always favored. These rings did not surprise him since they would have been required to complete the charade.

The fourth ring, however, made his blood run cold.

The simple silver promise ring glinted at him accusingly and, try as he might, Cian could not bring himself to look away from it. Sibley, who had received a matching one of his own from Dante, had given the ring to his brother as a sign of their love. It was Dante’s most treasured possession, one that only five people in the entire world knew about.

And one that Dante would never have parted with.

Not even for the Emperor.

With a cry of pure pain Cian fell to his knees, his fingers digging into his brother’s coffin. A coffin that really did contain his brother’s corpse. Bitter tears fell from his eyes as his entire world shattered around him. All because of a few words said in a moment of pure anger. Childish anger at the knowledge that his younger brother had kept such a secret from him and wasted their time by searching for the man who had been with them all along.

Pure stupidity that had led him to bury a poisoned dagger in his brother’s back.

Three silly little words that had stolen his brother’s life and torn his family apart.

Three silly little words that he swore the Emperor would come to regret.