For Lord and Land

For Lord and Land
By: Delilah deSora
Part 2
Chapter 6

**

They say you never know what you’ve got until it is taken away from you. But how much more painful it is when you knew what you had been blessed with before it was taken from you!

My Emperor comes to me everyday and asks me how I fare. Once I used to tell him the truth. Once I used to cry and beg to have returned to me that which all living beings are entitled. I would bring him out to the balcony and I would ask him for the trees, the land, and the sky. Most of all I wanted the sky back.

But then I learned that he was as helpless as I in this respect. He gave me what he could and it pained him to feel that he had failed me when he could not give me more. So I began to lie. Now when he asks I smile at him with false cheer and say “I fare well, my lord. I want for nothing.” And he is happy.

How easily such a lie slips from my lips! Some days I even believe it when I say it for the smile it brings to his face makes me feel haps wes well. Then he leaves, the curtain falling into place and my eyes turn towards the balcony beyond the pool and all the old pain returns.

I loved that balcony once but now I realize how cruel it really is for I can step out onto it and feel the sun on my face and see the sky stretching out above me, calling to me. It dredges up memories of my youth when I used to ride with wild abandon, arms outstretched and pretending that I was one of the great birds that rode the wind high above me.

I would give anything to return to that life.

No, the balcony is no longer my sanctuary. It is my addiction, my obsession. It harms me because it will not let me heal the wounds of memory. It gives me the pain of desire for something I cannot have.

I have begged my Emperor to let me free for just a short time. I have begged to come on his journeys to other lands. All my pleas were softly rejected and every time I bid him farewell I felt a piece of me die within.

Now I know why the wild bird dies when placed in a cage.

I wonder if they will understand why I am willing to pay so high a price to do this thing? I wonder if they will understand that, even though it will cost me my life, for a brief moment I will touch the sky and give my soul wings.

I wonder if they’ll realize, when they see my broken body in the garden below, that I was happy. I would rather die for three seconds of freedom than live for hundred years in a stone cage.

- Rinan Llyr
Emperor’s Leviathan
Year 768

**


The shirt twisted about his wrists was being undone and Dante forced open an eye to peer back at the man behind him. His hair fell across his face and he blew at it, trying to get it out of his eyes. His lover laughed and took pity on him, pausing in his attempt to free the Leviathan’s arms to brush the long back hair back. Finally the snag came free and Dante groaned as his right arm slid free.

Ardel rolled him onto his stomach and began manipulating his tense shoulder. Gods he was going to hurt come the morning. Something warm was poured onto his shoulder and he groaned in pleasure as the oil was worked into his skin, its heat relaxing the overworked muscles.

The Emperor’s fingers were heavenly and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of them working his shoulder and arm. He heard Ardel laugh above him and a long finger poked his nose. He grunted and peeled open an eye to give the man sitting on his back a halfhearted glare. Ardel shook his head in amusement and stood, wiping his hands off on his pants.

“Come now, sleepy one. We best head back before someone comes looking for me. Besides, there’s much to do before we leave tomorrow morning.”

Dante grunted and feigned ignorance to Ardel’s words. The red haired man sighed in exasperation and nudged him with his foot. With a grin Dante snatched the offending foot and pulled, dragging Ardel to the ground. As soon as the man hit the ground with a roll Dante was upon him, pinning the squirming Emperor beneath his larger bulk and pretending to go back to sleep.

Ardel twisted underneath him but was unable to free himself. When it became evident that Dante wasn’t about to release him he decided to try a new tactic. Slipping his hands underneath the larger body he pinched at the over sensitized nipples. As he had hoped Dante yelped and pulled away, allowing him to slip out from underneath him and skip lightly back to the pavilion.

Blue eyes glared at him as his Leviathan rubbed at the aching nubs. Ardel smirked. “Awake now?”

With a snarl the larger man lunged for him and the Emperor laughed as he skipped back on the balls of his feet, slipping beyond the larger man’s reach. Dante chased him back to the pavilion where Ardel straightened his clothes and Dante returned the favor by picking pieces of thin grass from his hair. Their preening evolved into a sudden joining of their lips as they battled for dominance over the other. There was no winner, however, for a shout from the ridge forced them apart before one of the guards moved over the rise and came towards them.

Dante followed Ardel sedately back to the carriage where they were joined by the head of his guard, Breven. Back at the palace Ardel herded him through unused halls until they entered the deserted hall that lead to his room. Dante shuddered at the oppressive heat of Ardel’s room and retreated to his own.

Ardel peered through the curtain, shaking his head in amusement. “For someone who comes from a land where the sun always shines you can’t seem to handle heat very well.”

Dante snorted and rubbed his arms. “It is not the heat that bothers me. The fire feels like a thousand needles pricking my skin, like the bare rays of the summer sun. Your kind is used to that feeling but down in Aquilae we have tall trees that protect us from it.”

“Our kind?” Ardel teased.

Dante sniffed and waved at him in a mockery of the Emperor’s own gesture. Ardel laughed. “I must go. There is much to be done before we leave. It will be a long journey, though perhaps not so long for you. Eat and rest. I will be back very late.”

Dante nodded and watched with a heavy sigh as Ardel left, leaving him trapped alone in the rooms. Reluctantly he pulled off the clothes he had been given and dragged out one of the blue and gold robes lest Dorjan bless him with an unexpected visit and wonder at the new clothes. He buried the pants, shirt, and gloves deep in one of Ardel’s drawers where he hoped they would not be noticed.

Returning to his room he stared down at the pile of papers on his desk. He reached out but could not bring himself to close his fingers about the writing stylus that waited beside them. He knew that he should be recording his days but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. It horrified him still to know that one day he would be nothing more than a set of journals on an old case. To give in to the urge to begin his own journal seemed to him to be the final blow. He knew that once he signed the name Dante Llyr to the end of that first entry the man he had once been would be gone forever.

With a grimace he let his hand fall away. Not yet. He couldn’t do it. Instead he reached out to retrieve the journal he had been currently reading but once again he hesitated. His eye was drawn to the deep green journal that sat at the very end of the shelf of books. There was no wear on the cover and when he picked it up the pages showed no sign of ever having been turned.

He chewed his lower lip, turning to peer off in the direction of Ardel’s room. He’d purposely avoided this journal for he feared that it would give him secrets that the current Emperor didn’t want him to know and yet . . .

. . . and yet he yearned to know more about the man that had become his lover. He wanted to know what caused the occasional look of horror that sometimes crossed the Ardel’s face when he thought Dante wasn’t aware that he was being stared at. He wanted to know what things made Ardel turn wistful or sad. He wanted to know what dreams made the man cry out softly in his sleep and make the fire in the room flare in response to the Emperor’s unconscious fear in the middle of the night.

He cradled his predecessor’s journal against his chest as he paced across the room to sit beneath the fading light coming in through the sunroof. The spine of the book actually cracked a bit when he opened it to the first page. Pulling his feet up underneath him he settled in to read for the rest of the night.

**

Ardel smiled brightly at all those he passed, knowing that it was bound to cause talk but not caring. His court appearances had been cancelled for the day and he had no wish to be adorned in expensive robes and regulated to the lonely dais surrounded by fire while his fellow men bowed and refused to look him in the eye. He wanted to be among them as much as he was able and he found that the best way to do that was to immerse himself in the preparation for the next day’s trip.

Dante had proven to be even better with the sword than he had thought. He had privately feared that whatever process he’d been forced to undergo to become a proper Leviathan had destroyed his ability to use or even lift a sword. He was extremely pleased to discover that, though the spark that made him worthy of being a knight had been suppressed, it hadn’t been put out.

His good mood, however, was not destined to last as he spoke with Breven and discovered that Dorjan had elected himself to be the knight required to accompany them on such a journey. He’d gone straight to the Lord General’s office and told him flat out that he was forbidden from coming. When Dorjan’s eyes had turned suspicious Ardel had dragged all the fault onto himself, pretending to be the spoiled brat the general always treated him as to keep the formidable man from wondering what his Emperor was trying to hide by keeping him back in Aidus. Finally Dorjan had given in, pulling his second from whatever duties he had been scheduled for.

Ardel had tried to argue against Errol’s presence as well but on this Dorjan would not back down. It was either he or Errol. He’d been forced to accept Errol, who was just as likely to recognize Dante but who, he hoped, would be easier to cow. This, however, left Ardel with a problem. He’d been hoping to usurp one of the newer knights, one who didn’t know Dante and who thought he was dead. Having a man who knew Dante’s true fate traveling with them would be a serious detriment to his plans to get his Leviathan free from his stone prison.

In the end he decided it was worth it to take the chance and cornered the captain of his guard to begin weaving the required deception.

**

Dante reached up to adjust the fall of the scarves about his face, checking to make sure they hadn’t slipped loose for the hundredth time since they’d left Aidus that morning. Logically he knew they hadn’t moved for the heavy clips that held them tightly around his face had never failed him before but his nervousness couldn’t seen to bring itself to listen to the logical mind.

With a sigh he let his hand fall away.

The winds had abated for a bit, giving him a view of the endless sea of desert, blazing a bright red horizon before him. He repressed a shudder at the view, forcing himself to sit up straight and look as though he belonged among the heavily covered group. His eyes sought out the man that rode before him, only able to pick out Ardel’s form by the nearly insignificant design that lined his cloak. Unlike the guards and servants that rode with them, Ardel’s cloak was embroidered with twisting dragons while theirs were lined with twisting vines. A small enough difference that would be invisible to someone who didn’t know to look for it yet enough to distinguish which of the scarf wrapped forms was the Emperor.

It was still early in the season, a fact that Dante was eternally grateful for, so they didn’t have to fear the winds coming in from Ventae too much. Come autumn, travel would be nigh impossible for the winds had the ability to knock a man from his mount or suffocate him with the sheer amount of sand it carried with it. Some men even went deaf from the constant shrieking.

As it was they were harried for only a few short hours by a constant wind that kicked a bit of sand at them but not enough to keep them from being able to see each other. They still needed to keep their faces wrapped with the protective scarves and glass in sturdy wire frames kept their eyes safe from the flying sand. Cloth or leather covered their entire bodies.

It was hot but Dante was glad for it kept those they traveled with from recognizing him.

He had very nearly not been able to go for at the last minute Ardel had discovered that Dorjan had assigned himself to small group to fulfill the required role of a knight acting as guardian on the Emperor’s trips from the palace. His red haired lover had apparently done something to “convince” the lord general that it would be in his best interest to stay back in Aidus.

Unfortunately Ardel hadn’t been able to keep Errol from coming.

Dante hunched a bit in the saddle, his trained eyes easily finding the sword hilt that belonged only to knights of Aidan. He’d been trying to avoid the man the whole day, which, he had to admit, hadn’t been difficult. Errol kept himself glued to the Emperor’s side and, except for a brief precursory glance at the beginning of the journey, the knight hadn’t looked at him since.

His sword was a comforting weight on his side and he was glad that Ardel had the foresight to distribute leather covers that fit over the pummel of their swords to keep the sun from heating the metal and keeping the conspicuous design on Dante’s own sword from being noticed by the only other knight in their party.

Ardel had apparently convinced Breven that Dorjan wished to have a second knight quietly placed undercover as a simple guard, just in case they were attacked. Poor Breven, who, in Dante’s opinion, was ill prepared for the leadership role Ardel had thrust upon him, had readily agreed, willing to do whatever the lord general wished. Ardel had also ordered him not to bother Dante in any way.

The sun was beginning its decent to the west and their shadows were foraging far ahead of them by the time they reached one of the many small towns that dotted Ardae. It still bore relics from its days as a clan camp before it had given in to the progression of civilization and cast aside its tents for the baked brick buildings that survived the brutal eastern winds better than any canvas could.

A messenger had been sent ahead of them to secure rooms for them all and Dante was longing for something cool to drink by the time they reached the largest building of the town. He dismounted and led his horse to the stables before his mind caught up with him and he froze. A few of the guard were already there and they were quickly stripping off the protective scarves so that they could see to clean off their mounts.

Panic welled up within him as he saw one man pull off the rest of his scarves, revealing blond hair and Errol’s infectious grin. He couldn’t go over there! He’d never be able to clean his mount in the dark stables wrapped up in scarves and the others were bound to wonder why he wasn’t eager to strip the annoying things off.

A hand caught his arm and he jumped in surprise, turning to stare down at the servant. The young man took the reins from his hand and gestured with his head to the man staring at him from the inn’s doorway. Dante bit back a grin as he recognized Ardel’s stance, his lover’s body language telling him quite clearly that the Emperor was impatient to get inside and probably clean. Nodding to the servant he strode across the short distance and followed the shorter man inside.

Breven was waiting for them inside and he led them to a room on the top floor. They waited out in the hall while the guard thoroughly checked the small chambers for any danger. When the guard was satisfied they entered. Dante took the small room meant for a lord’s private guard and closed the door firmly behind him to keep the servants who were in charge of helping Ardel clean himself up from seeing him.

Dante sighed in relief and peeled the offending scarves away from his face; carefully setting the glass that protected his eyes aside. Copious amounts of sand poured from his clothes as he undressed. He caught sight of the tiny basin of water and groaned in disappointment. He longed for a true bath to clean his skin of the small red particles of sand that still clung to him but he knew that in Ardae it was not to be. Water was too scarce in the desert country to waste on frivolous washing as it was used for in Aquilae.

Reaching out with his powers he excited the water in the small basin so that the inevitable sand that had been delivered with it sank to the bottom, leaving him with only clean, fresh water. He splashed it on his face, carefully to use the water’s natural affinity for itself to keep any drops from escaping into the air. The water ran down his face and across his chest, making him sigh in relief as it soothed his sun-pricked skin.

There was a knock at the door and he turned towards it. Before he could answer, however, Ardel pushed the door open and clucked at him in annoyance at his state of undress. He smirked and received an interested glance from his lover. Smiling innocently he reached out to the water in the basin and, before Ardel could catch onto his ploy, he sent the water spraying over the man.

The Emperor blinked slowly as water dripped from his hair and face. Dante laughed heartily. Suddenly the fire Emperor’s eyes narrowed and with a yelp he went down under a pile of red hair and long pale limbs.

**

Errol rolled his eyes in annoyance as servant after servant drifted in and out of the door he and Breven were stationed at. It never ceased to amaze him how long it could take people to get dressed and readied for a long day’s ride. The Emperor acted like he was going to court or about to be adored by his loving public. He certainly hoped the bustling servants weren’t painting his face. Nobody would see him under all the required scarves.

He couldn’t complain too much though. At least the usually solitary Emperor had actually ordered one of the guards to stay in the room with him. Errol had expected to have to fight for that outcome and it was a nice surprise. He would have preferred it if the Emperor had sought him out but he was willing to let the guard have the job. He had never bought into the claim that the guards were lesser fighters than the Knights. The knights just had more personalized attention, nothing more.

The door opened once more and Errol bit back the sigh of relief as the Emperor swept passed him, covered and prepared for their departure. The guard that had staid the night with him was close on his heels and Errol fell into step behind them, gratefully. They had a hard ride ahead of them if they were going to reach the designated camping area before nightfall.

It wasn’t until they reached the final camping area before they reached the oasis four days later that Errol began to become suspicious of the Emperor’s desire to have a guard stationed in his tent all night.

He had been under the impression that the Emperor just grabbed whatever guard was closest but that truth was shattered shortly after they had settled around a fire, sending thanks to the god Aidan that the winds had abated enough to allow this small luxury. Errol sat somewhat apart from the other guards, picking idly at what was left of his rations when he overheard one of the guards demanding to know why no one else got the honor of staying the night with the Emperor.

Breven had silenced the complaint quickly, informing the men that it was the Emperor’s choice and if he wished to have the same man protect him it was not for them to argue. Chastised the guard had fallen silent but Errol’s mind had picked up where he had left off. Dorjan had warned him that the Emperor might fall back into his old patterns without his Leviathan to calm him. He’d also made it very clear that no one was to know and that certain . . . behaviors . . . were not to tolerated.

He grit his teeth, turning to glance at the Emperor’s tent. He had been uncomfortable with his superior’s method of “correcting” the Emperor’s most dangerous habit when the fire madness ran through his veins but he knew how to follow orders and he understood how important it was to keep the man physically separated from others who might talk about the strange madness that had overtaken their sovereign.

He stood, putting aside his plate and moving to the side, his eyes never leaving the tent. He prayed his was wrong but deep inside he knew differently. How many of those they had had to deal with had been members of the Emperor’s guard? True, the Emperor had taken people from many walks of life to his bed but his favorite had always seemed to be those who were in charge of protecting him.

Errol took the first watch and, as he had suspected, a shadow slipped from the tent when the only sounds left in the camp were those of sleep. He moved on silent feet to the tent and peered inside. A long stretch of bare skin peeked out from under the thick blanket and he easily identified the Emperor’s bright red hair against the pack that was serving as his pillow.

There was no other bedroll in the tent.

Gritting his teeth he let the flap fall close. Drawing his sword he followed the man down to the edge of the oasis.

**

Dante groaned as he slipped into the warm waters of the oasis. The liquid greeted him joyously and he sank below the surface to skim along the bottom, letting the sluggish current wipe the sand from his skin. He swam below the surface with long slow strokes, just enjoying the feel of his element on his skin.

For the first time since they had left the inn he felt relaxed. Riding in the sun all day and not having any water to wash with had left his skin felling too tight and itchy. There had been times when it had taken all of his strength not to stop his mount and try to scratch his skin from his very body.

It was driving him mad!

He swam as long as he dared, letting the water relax tense muscles and refuel his spirit. Knowing that the watch was about to be switched soon and not wanting Ardel to wonder where he had disappeared to he completed a final lap of the oasis before he drew as close to the shore as he could before letting his head break water. He peered about; alert for any nearby guard that would be on the first watch. Satisfied that he was alone he stood and paced over to the clothes he had left hidden on the shore.

Shaking the water out of his hair he used his powers to dry himself, sending the droplets sliding from his skin and into the ground where they would rejoin the sluggish flow of water deep below them. He had just pulled on his discarded pants when a sharp point parted his hair and pressed against the back of his neck.

Dante froze.

“I do hope you enjoyed yourself,” came a voice from behind him filled with anger, “because such a prize comes with a very high price.”

The point dug deeper into his neck, drawing blood but before he could escape a second voice rang out, startling both he and his attacker.

“You will drop that sword,” Ardel’s voice hissed out, cutting the humid air with its rage.

Dante heard the man behind him cry out and the pressure against the back of his neck was gone. He whirled around to see Errol on his knees, clutching his hand to him. The hilt of his sword glowed in the dark night as though it had just come from the furnace that had forged it. Ardel was a fuming presence behind him and Dante was forced back a step by the waves of hot rage he could feel coming off his lover and clashing with his own innate power.

“Take it down a notch, Ardel!” he hissed, “You’re overwhelming me!”

Green eyes glared at him but recognition flickered through the dragon’s rage and he felt the night return to its normal temperature as Ardel forced himself to calm.

At the sound of his voice the sandy haired knight’s head had snapped up, brown eyes staring at him in shock. “Dante? What are you doing here?” He demanded.

“He is here at my request.” Ardel snapped, dragging the knight’s attention baowarowards him.

“Are you insane?” Errol exploded in anger, immediately regretting his choice of words when the Emperor’s brilliant green eyes hardened.

“I would be,” Ardel hissed, “That is why he is here.”

The knight shook his head. “It’s too dangerous for him to be out here, my lord! What if he gets killed?”

The Emperor snorted and turned sharply on his heel. “Then you’ll just have to make sure he is protected for the remainder of this journey. Come Dante.”

Dante met Errol’s brown eyes helplessly before gathering up the shirt he had brought with him and hurrying to catch up to his lover’s retreating form.

Errol watched them both enter the tent with a sense of dread. Part of him told him not to worry, for he knew that Dante could take care of himself, but another part of him was trembling in fear. The Emperor was far from being completely cured. It would take another year or two before his control of the dragon rage was complete. To lose his Leviathan now would mean certain death.

And Ardel had not yet sired any sons.

He shuddered at the thought of the Emperor dying without having anyone to inherit the dragon’s blood. Ardae would fall apart. Two thousand years of aggression had left it with no friends among its fellow countries. If it were Emperor-less and protectorate-less the very land itself would turn on them just as surely as the lands they had taken control of. Without the dragon’s blood Ardae would become a wasteland of lava and fire. The inhabitants would perish and Ardae would cease to exist.

He forced himself to his feet, shaking his burned hand before gingerly touching the hilt of his sword. The heat had receded and he carefully returned it to its scabbard. Back in his tent he hastily scribbled a coded note and roused one of the messengers they had brought with them just in case of such an emergency.

The messenger, true to his training, was up, dressed, and gone in less than five minutes, riding hard back to Aidus. Errol watched him go, praying that Dorjan would have answers where he had none.

The sun finally rose over the desert and their little troupe packed up and continued their journey towards Ventae.