Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter 39.
Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #39. New friends.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non.

Rating: NC - 17
Abuse, Anal, Angst, BDSM, Bi, B-Mod, Bond, Death, D/s, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, M/F, M/M, Minor, N/C, OC, Oral, Preg, Rim, Spank, Violence, Voy, VS, WD, WIP.

Archive: Originals - misc. > Slash – Male/Male.
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism. Please rate if you do not want to leave a review.

Authors Notes: Oh, wow guys. Another late update, but hey I did tell you I was getting married last month. The wedding was perfect and I’m a happily married woman now! Yay, me!
But guess what happened, poor hubby fell off his bike and broke his collarbone twelve days after we got married. He’s getting better, and healing very well, so everything is fine.
Anyway, just wanted to let you know, and hope you enjoy the new update. Hopefully I’ll start updating every week from now on, but I’ve learned to stop making promises.

For review replies, comments and thank you's go to: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/14530-polinues-marines-the-would-be-mage/


Summary: Polinues and Leyjen make some new friends.

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Chapter 39.

Polinues stood up straight, arching his back, making it crack loudly.
He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, flapping his cowl around his head to try and get some air underneath it.

The late summer heat was stifling, and the work in the Temple’s vegetable gardens was hard, all the other novices working alongside him had stripped down to their wide linen trousers and wore bandanas on their heads to keep the sweat out of their eyes.
Polinues had been conditioned many years before to wear his hood at all times when at the Temples.

The seamstress at Castle Marines had made him a separate hood that he could wear alone without his robes. It was rigged with the same system of buttons and laces as the hood of his robes and made of lighter cotton than the robes.
He had gotten into the habit of wearing the hood whenever he took his robes off, and also with his civilian clothes when he went home on holiday, since noone at the Castle could bear the sight of his scarred face.
Not even his mother and father could look at him without his hood.
Only Leyjen, Lanja and Brigale could see past the horrific deformity.

Polinues sighed, dropping his hoe on the ground and walked over to the water bucket by the fence.
He leaned against the fence as he drank from a tin cup and his eyes strayed over the gardens.
Leyjen was working in another patch near by, and keeping a close eye on Polinues.
When Polinues sat down on his haunches, hanging his head between his knees, Leyjen jumped up and was by his side in only a few strides.

“Are you alright?”
Polinues twitched at the concern in Leyjen’s voice, and righted himself a little too fast, making himself dizzy and he staggered.
Leyjen had him by the arm, dirt covered hands reaching under the hood to touch Polinues’ flushed face.

“I’m fine, Leyjen, really. I just stood up too fast.”

“Are you sure? You feel a little warm. Have more.”

Polinues accepted the offered cup and drank slowly, while Leyjen tried to study his face inside the darkness of the hood. Leyjen turned to the water bucket and wound a hankerchief in the chill water.

“Here, let me…” Leyjen said quietly, drawing the damp bandana around the back of Polinues’ neck, underneath his hood.
Polinues moaned softly at the refreshing feeling of the chilled cloth, but it only lasted a few moments, and ghosting his fingertips over Leyjen’s hands, Polinues pulled the cloth away.

“It’s no good. It gets warm too quickly and then it just gets uncomfortable. Maybe I should just go inside for a while. Have some more water.”

“Are you feeling lightheaded? Dizzy?”

“No, Leyjen. I’m beginning to feel a little too hot, that’s all. I guess I haven’t been drinking enough water.”

“I’ll talk to the foreman…”

“No, Leyjen. By the Wraith himself, I’m fifteen summers already. I can talk to him myself. I can take care of myself you know, I’m not a baby anymore.”
Polinues cut Leyjen off, pushing the elder cleric back and stomping away.
Leyjen stood still for a few moments before he returned to his own work, deciding it was the heat that was getting to Polinues.

Polinues walked across the grounds, the foreman waving him on without a word.
Sitting down in the shade of the large canopy over the well Polinues drew himself a large mug of water, the attending healer making sure he was alright before moving on to another exhausted novice.

Polinues leaned back on the hard bench, closing his eyes for a few moments, enjoying the short respite.
A movement next to him startled the novice and he sat up with a jerk.
Leaning against the low wall of the well was a tall muscular teen, chestnut hair curling around a tanned face, thick lips slightly upturned at the corners and his nose straight with a small bump on the bridge.

“Afternoon, novice.” His voice was low and quiet, sending thrills down Polinues’ spine, and his heart quickened for a moment.

“Afternoon. I don’t believe we’ve met.” Polinues answered a little flustered and the teen smiled.

“My name is Owain. Owain Bronwey.”

“Are you new here? I mean a new initiate?”

The teen chuckled, the gentle smile that spread over his lips making Polinues blush.
“Do I look like an initiate? No. My mother was hired to work in the laundry, and I help out there sometimes.”

“My name is novice Polinues Marines. Pleased to meet you. So, there’s only you and your mother? Do you live in the village or on the grounds?”

“Oh, no.”
Owain looked away, his face turning from pleasant to guarded in an instant, and in a lower voice he answered,
“I have a younger brother and two young sisters. We live in a cottage at the edge of the forest. My father is the executioner.”

A novice that was sitting on the seat behind Polinues jumped to his feet at those words and spat on the ground infront of Owain’s feet, Owain only averting his eyes to the ground.

It was a common superstition that an executioner and all those connected to him by blood were unclean, and should therefore not mingle in polite society.
A side product of this superstition was that an executioner was capable of sending the souls of those he executed to do his bidding, and spitting at his feet could safeguard a person against such an assault.
Polinues had always considered that an idiotic idea, and regarded the spitting as just what it was, an insult.

Polinues stood just as quickly, turning to the offending youth and without a second thought spat a large glob of saliva on the ground infront of the novice’s feet.

“What are you doing? Are you crazy, Marines? He’s dirty.” The novice yelled, waving his hands at the executioner’s son, a look of disgusted horror on his face.

“You’re dirty, you moron. This is one of the cleanest commoners I’ve ever seen in my life. Thank the Gods he isn’t afraid of a little bath like you are, Chalmer. Now get lost.” Polinues hissed at the novice, and sat down with a huff.

Patting the wodden bench beside himself, Polinues looked up at the executioner’s son, and asked calmly,
“So, you are not from around here?”

Owain stood still for a moment, then hesitantly sat down, shaking his head no.

“I was born in a city south of the Dwarven Forest. My mother was a seamstress for an aristocrat there. My father worked for the city guard, but he was unhappy with his employment. He tried to make some extra income, but unfortunately his means were not quite legal.”

“Oh, so he got caught?”

“It wasn’t anything major. Just a little smuggling. When he couldn’t pay the fine, the punishment was set at fifteen lashes. But the day his punishment was to be carried out a nobleman came and paid my father’s fine. When father went to tell the man he couldn’t pay him back except with servitude the man told my father he would be free from his debt if he did the man a favour.”

“Really? Wow, that’s noble…”
The two teens smirked at each other at the unintended joke, but Polinues cleared his throat to refrain from laughing, and continued,
“So, what was this favour?”

“To come here and take the position of executioner.”

“Really? Your father accepted those terms? To repay a small fine with that?” Polinues couldn’t help his shock at those words, his grey eye lighting up in the shadows of his hood.
Owain smiled vaguely, and nodded.

“Yes. My mother was sacked the moment word got out about my father, the sisters turned my siblings away from their school, and noone would give me a job. Even our landlord turned us out on the street. My little sister was caned by a baker in our neighbourhood because she came into his shop to smell the fresh bread. The baker insisted she was there to steal. She was not even four winters.”

“I’m sorry. I understand what you mean. You didn’t really have a choice.”

“It was either take the man’s offer or starve. My parents are both very proud, hardworking people, who have never been dependent on anyone. And they’ve raised us to be the same. My father gave me and my brother a choice. To either find our own way in life, or come with him.”

“So you’re alright with taking over your father’s position when the time comes?”

“Yes. I would be proud to follow in my father’s footsteps. I’m not saying that I enjoy killing people, only that living up to my father is an honour. I believe that the Gods will give me justice in the end.”

Polinues nodded, wetting and wiping his arms slowly with the hankerchief Leyjen had given to him.
Owain sat silent for a few moments, then clearing his throat softly, he mumbled,
“Do you mind me asking, how come you always wear that hood? I’ve seen you around here a few times and you never take the hood of your robes down, and when you take your robes off you always wear this cowl.”

Polinues stopped moving, his shoulders tensing for a bit, and without looking at Owain he answered slowly,
“Have you seen the ruins of the Old Abbey out on the Main Square? The one that burned down?”

Owain nodded his head yes, and Polinues had to start a couple of times before he got the words out.

“It burned down on the night of my initiation. I was one of the few lucky ones that got out. I was not one of the lucky ones who did not suffer any damage.”

“So those scars on your arm reach up to your face?”

“Yes.”

Owain nodded his head, leaning his elbows on his knees, staring over the grounds, ignoring Polinues’ quiet study of his features.

Owain’s hazel eyes sparkled with sadness and without looking around at Polinues he spoke quietly.
“My brother is almost twelve winters but his mind is not what it should be. He’s still only a small child in his mind. He throws tantrums that put our youngest sister to shame, and he trusts everyone if they show him the slightest kindness.”

“Did something happen to him as a child?”

“No. I don’t know exactly what happened, but my mother has told me that when he was born he did not breathe. The midwife had to help him to start breathing. He looks more or less normal from afar, but once you look at him closely or he begins to speak, it becomes obvious that his mind is not altogether there. He will be dependant on someone his entire life.”

Polinues listened intently, his heart hammering in his chest, his mind debating whether or not to tell Owain that the same had happened to him at birth.

The debate was settled for him as the bright voice of Owain’s mother brought both of them to their feet.
“I’m sorry. I must go now. Perhaps I’ll see you around?” Owain blushed slightly, and gave Polinues a timid smile.

“I hope so. I would like to speak with you again.” Polinues shook the offered hand and watched Owain walk down the path to the laundry house.

Sitting back down Polinues enjoyed the shade for an hour more before he returned to his work.
At dinner Leyjen questioned Polinues about his conversation with Owain, his curiosity peaking when Polinues mentioned the reason for the family moving to Tharsirium. Owain did not come back to the Temples for a fortnight and work kept the two friends too busy to go and call on Owain.

“Page! You there, page, come here. Do you know cleric Baywort of the ninth stage? Go and find him for me, and tell him his pupil, Harald, needs him. Bring him back here. He should be in the carpentry workshop. Go, quick as you can.”
Leyjen had to struggle not to shout at the young page who had been walking down the hallway outside the Healer’s office, the boy inside his office complaining about being scared.
A tiny pre-teen novice stood infront of the bench outside the office, his head bent and his thin body trembling visibly.
The page bowed quickly and took off down the hall, while Leyjen turned to the small novice.

“Were you coming to see me?” He asked, rather more harshly than he intended and the novice jumped with a whimper.
Softening his features Leyjen smiled at the boy and told him as gentle as he could,
“I’ll be with you in a moment. Just sit down and wait for me. Once Cleric Baywort comes to pick Harald up, I can see to you.”

The boy nodded his head without looking up, his shoulders trembling in fear, but Leyjen did not notice because the boy inside his office had jumped off the examination bench and was stumbling around, Leyjen yelling at him to stay still as he slammed the door behind him.

As much as Leyjen loved the healing aspect of his profession, he had come to hate being on Healer duty at the seminary.
Healer duty was a mandatory part of the studies, once a novice had reached the fifth stage, and the higer a novice rose through the ranks, the more demanding the work became.
At his sixth stage Leyjen was now on Healer duty for the youngest novices, from the five year old initiates to the thirteen year olds in their final year of the second stage. This group of novices was dreaded amongst all the older clerics, simply because they were more accident prone than any other age group in the Temples.

Fifteen mintues went by before Cleric Baywort came to the office, walking in as Leyjen had Harald by the collar of his robes and was just about ready to shake the kid silly.
Cleric Baywort closed the door behind himself with a sigh and with a look of defeat in his eyes asked as he noticed the bandages over Harald’s eyes.
“So, what happened this time?”

“Spitting lizards.”
Leyjen answered with a growl, the teen cutting in,
“But we were supposed to be dissecting them.”

“He did what?!”

“I don’t care. Dissecting them is one thing, you put them to sleep before you do that, and you’re supposed to use the shield. You are not supposed to pick them up and poke them in the belly with a stick.”

“You poked a spitting lizard? And it spat in your eyes? You stupid….”

Leyjen handed the older cleric a vial of thick oil, and pushing the teen into Baywort’s arms answered, struggling with his frustration,
“Give him two drops into each eye, three times a day. Keep the bandages on for a minimum of four days, and when you remove them, be careful not to expose his eyes to much light. Don’t let him look directly at any kind of light during that time. After four or five days you can remove the bandages, but be careful to shade his eyes. If his eyesight is still bad after one week take him to the Head Healer, because this is all I can do.”

Leyjen physically pushed the blindfolded teen out of the examination room, the boy’s mentor scolding him as they disappeared down the hallway.

Leyjen drew a deep breath to calm himself before he stepped out into the hallway, intending to call the boy who had been waiting inside, but the boy was nowhere to be seen.
Leyjen walked out into the middle of the corridor, looking around for the mousy little thing, when a quiet sniffle behind him startled him.
Spinning around Leyjen spotted the boy where he stood half hidden between a massive potted palm plant and a column.

“Hey there, what are you doing there?” Leyjen asked, the small boy jumping visibly, and wimpering quietly.
The boy glanced quickly up at Leyjen, and Leyjen noticed the tears that stained the boy’s face.
Again he pulled on every ounce of his strength to calm himself, and show the boy the tenderness he obviously needed.

“Hey there. Why are you hiding back there? You want to come inside and talk for a bit?” Leyjen smiled his most disarming smile, and offered the boy his hand.
The blond head nodded slightly, and the boy scuttled sideways ahead of Leyjen into the office, where he braced himself against the wall just inside the door.
Leyjen closed the door gently behind himself, noticing how the boy flinched at the sound of the latch catching.

Turning his back to the boy Leyjen started tidying up the examination table he had used for Harald’s injuries, and tried to make small talk while he worked to put the boy at ease.

“So, what’s your name? My name is Cleric Leyjen Shaoir. But you know what, since there’s only the two of us in here, how about you just call me Leyjen? You just passed your second stage? Is the lip ring hurting you? Is that the problem?”
Leyjen bent over at the waist to be eye level with the boy but the novice didn’t dare to look up.

A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when Leyjen offered him to address him by his first name, and licking his lips a few times a voice tinier than Leyjen had ever heard whispered,
“That’s Parsirian. Your name, it’s Parsirian. It means Eyes of Flame, I think. My name is Tiensin.”

“That’s right. Noone’s ever known that before. Your name is a pretty name. I don’t think I’ve heard it before.”

“It’s Parsirian too. It means protected one.”

“That is beautiful. What have you got there? That’s a pretty pendant.”

Tiensin glanced up, his eyes a little less frightened than before, as he lifted the small charm up for Leyjen to examine.
“It belonged to my Nana. She was from Parsiria. Her mother was my grandad’s and my dad’s Nana. My Nana was half human.” Tiensin choked and tears welled up in his eyes, Leyjen rubbed his shoulder gently as he studied the pendant. It was a delicately carved rose of silver, elven made.

“There, there, Tiensin. It’s alright. Tell me what’s the matter.”

“My Nana… Father sent her away, so now I don’t have any friends left. I can’t talk to anyone.”

“It’s alright, Tiensin. I can be your friend.” Leyjen said, bending down on one knee, but the small boy balked away from him with a shout, his shoulders tensing, his body shaking with sobs, and he turned to the wall, almost like he wanted to crawl inside it.

Leyjen sat back on his heel, raising his hands with open palms towards the boy.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. We don’t need to be friends if you don’t want to. But I can help.” He said quietly, his heart racing because he had grown uncertain of how to deal with the child.
He had never seen such fear and despair in such a young child, and he felt like he was taking two steps backwards every time he got one step ahead.

Tiensin’s small chest heaved painfully for a few moments, while he got his sobs under control, then just as timid as before Tiensin whispered,
“I’ve heard Polinues talk about you. He says such nice things about you. About what a good friend you are, and how you always protect him.”

“You know Polinues?”

“Yes. He teaches a few of my classes. He teaches us theological theory, and once he was trying to explain the concept of faith. And he used your friendship as a way to explain it.”

“He did? I had no idea…” Leyjen mumbled, but Tiensin did not hear him.

“I’m afraid.”

Leyjen reached out for the boy, gently turning him around and brushing the tears from his face, Leyjen said,
“You don’t have to be afraid here, Tiensin. I’ll protect you. Nothing can touch you in here. You’re safe. Tell me what’s the matter. Please tell me. Let me help you.”

Tiensin started crying even harder and suddenly launched himself into Leyjen’s embrace.
Leyjen hugged him close and lifted him off the floor without thinking.
Tiensin went stiff in his arms, and quick as he could Leyjen walked over to the examination bench and set Tiensin down on it.

The boy jerked to the side, grunting in pain as his backside made contact with the hard bench, and a suspicion rose in Leyjen’s chest.
Turning to the medicine cabinet Leyjen pulled out a couple of bottles. He poured some water into a cup, and turning his back to the boy he stirred in a tiny amount of sleeping potion, then turned around with a warm smile and a pill for the pain.
Tiensin took the pill without a word and washed it down with the water.

Leyjen sat down next to the boy and made casual conversation while he waited for the sleeping potion to kick in.
He asked the boy about his family and his Nana, about his studies and why he said he didn’t have any friends.
Leyjen was surprised to find out that the boy was the younger son of only two, his mother had died in childbirth two years earlier, giving birth to the fifth daughter of the family. The child had died as well.
After ten minutes of chatting Tiensin’s eyes started to droop and he yawned so big his jaw popped. Leyjen eased the boy down on the bench and tucked a blanket around him.

Stepping out into the hallway Leyjen waved over a page and told him to go get the Head Healer and Polinues as quickly as he could.
The Head Healer arrived first and Leyjen shared his suspicion with him.
A few minutes later Polinues knocked on the office door before letting himself inside.

“Hey, Leyjen. You sent for me?”

“Yes, Polinues. Do you know this boy?” Leyjen led Polinues over to the examination bench where Tiensin was sleeping soundly.

Polinues looked at the boy for a few minutes, a look of confusion on his face, but then he noticed the pendant around the boy’s neck.
“Yes, of course I know him. That’s Tiensin Hirashi. He’s one of my students. One of my best students actually. I hardly recognized him so calm. He’s usually so twitchy and tense. Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick. It’s much worse, I’m afraid. We need you to sit with him and keep him calm while we examine him.”

“Examine him for what?”

“I suspect that he’s been molested.” Leyjen’s voice shook as he spoke, his eyes burning with shame as he glanced over at Polinues.

Head Healer Chauncer nodded in agreement, making Polinues jump when he spoke,
“From what Cleric Shaoir has told me, I am inclined to believe him. I think it would be best to examine the child now, while he sleeps, and then talk to him when he wakes up.”

Polinues shook his head vigorously, instinctively his hands began to smooth the boy’s hair, and his voice was firm as he spoke,
“No. You should talk to him first. We can put him to sleep again if he gets too scared. But I think it would be best to tell him what we are planning to do.”

Leyjen agreed and reluctantly the Head Healer admitted the logic of the argument.

Polinues woke the boy up, and after half an hour of discussion Tiensin agreed to the examination.
Leyjen offered him some sedatives to calm him down and Polinues sat by the side of the bench, holding Tiensin’s hand and talking with him through the examination. Tiensin cried quietly, gritting his teeth, and Polinues held his hand, soothing his hair, and slowly, very slowly, the story emerged from the boy.

It was obvious by his injuries that he had been molested, and that it had been going on for months, and Tiensin confirmed that, telling them how he had been tricked by a man who worked in the stables, and then threatened into silence.
When they pressed Tiensin for the man’s name, the boy closed up and refused to speak. No matter what they tried Tiensin refused to reveal who his abuser was, claiming that if he did the man would find him and kill him.
Eventually they gave up, and Leyjen sent Polinues to the Healing Halls with the boy, Head Healer Chauncer sat down with Leyjen in the office and they discussed the best course of action.
Chauncer found Polinues in the Healing Halls later in the evening, sitting by Tiensin’s bedside, and asked Polinues if he would mind watching out for the boy from now on.
Polinues promised to do his best and a week later, when Tiensin returned to his classes, Polinues hardly ever left his side.


Wrapping his winter cloak around himself, Leyjen sneezed into his sleeve and cursed the wet snow soaking his leather boots and the cold wind tugging at the hem of his robes.
Yule had passed quietly at the Temples, Leyjen and Polinues had rattled around the nearly empty grounds, discovering new secret places to fuck and figuring out new ways to drive each other wild, taking full advantage of the fact that most of the clerics and novices had gone home for the holiday.

Slipping through the slush Leyjen winced at the pain in his backside, Polinues had been extremely enthusiastic with him lately, and Leyjen was feeling weaker than usual because he had not gotten away to feed during the Yule holiday.
He had encouraged Polinues to spend the evening with a couple of his peers, so he could get away to hunt.

Walking past the stables his senses were suddenly assaulted by the scent of blood.
His sensitive ears picked up a sound that made his heart beat faster, and without a second thought he entered the stables, following his senses.
Underneath the heavy scent of the horses there was a sweet smell, reminding Leyjen of chocolate and oranges, but it was tainted by fear and mingled with a stronger, bitter smell of stale coffee and cigar smoke.
A sound drew him towards the back of the stable, where bales of hay were stacked up in neat rows, and saddles rested on trestles against the far wall.

Leyjen edged his way around a pillar, stopping in the shadows, anger blazing in his chest.

A twelve winter old novice was bent over one of the trestles, the skirts of his robes bunched up on his back, one arm tangled up in the fabric.
His face was bloodied, tears streaming from his eyes, but he still struggled against his attacker. The man was in his forties, lean muscles trembling with excitement, rough hands ripping the boy’s linen trousers.

“What’s going on here?” Leyjen asked calmly, stepping into the dim light of the lantern hanging above them, and the stable hand let go of the boy.
The novice rose up, stepping around the trestle on trembling knees, hesitant and frightened.

Leyjen opened his arms, smiling softly at the boy,
“You’re safe now.” He said quietly, and the child crashed into his embrace, sobbing against his chest.

Leyjen stroked his head and shoulders for a couple of minutes, glaring at the stable hand.
Cupping the boy’s face, Leyjen broke the embrace and looking deep into his eyes, Leyjen spoke in a deep calm voice,
“You’re safe now. Go to your room, and go to bed. Tomorrow you’ll wake up, refreshed and happy. All of this will just be a faint nightmare, you will not remember this. You know me, you’re safe now. Run. Go to bed.”
Leyjen brushed a lock of hair out of the boy’s face, and the child smiled, taking off as fast as he could.

Leyjen fixed the stable hand with blazing eyes, the man swallowed thickly, Leyjen’s voice dripped venom as he advanced on the man,
“You should learn to pick on people your own size.”

The stable hand grinned, making Leyjen’s skin crawl, and his voice fanned the rage in Leyjen’s chest,
“I’m sorry but you’re a little too old for my taste. I like them tender and fresh.”

Gritting his teeth Leyjen rushed the man, slamming him against the wall behind him, and growled,
“I like my prey afraid.”

As he spoke his fangs sprouted from his gums, the amber of his eyes devouring the pupils and the whites in half a breath, and a powerful aura of fear pulsed out of his body, making the stable hand quiver for a moment before he started fighting with all of his strength.
Leyjen pretended to losen his grip for a moment, the man shoving away from the wall, but only managed to step right into Leyjen’s arms, and his scream drowned in his blood as Leyjen sank his fangs into his throat.

Sinking down to his knees, moaning with pleasure, Leyjen drank the man’s blood in large gulps.
Far too quickly he had drained the man, and tossing the corpse aside he sat down on the straw strewn floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, Leyjen, that was fucking stupid. How are you going to get the body out of here? You never stop to think if you get too hungry. Fucking stupid, man.” He muttered to himself, scratching at the back of his head.
He sat still for a few minutes, letting the fresh blood work its magic, and thinking up some solution.

Finally he jumped to his feet and dragged the corpse to one of the stalls, where a large brown bronco was pacing restlessly.
Leyjen picked up the corpse and tossed it over the gate, then calling the animal over to the gate he pushed fear into its mind.
The horse reared violently, kicking the wall behind it, and then stomped on the corpse a few times.

Leyjen was halfway out the door before that happened, slipping into the shadows as the sentries came running up the path, in response to the scream Leyjen had conjured with his magick.
The sentries found the dead stable hand in the bronco’s stall, his head split open, and the animal nearly wild with fear.

Leyjen slipped through the dark gardens towards his cloister, his heart hammering in his chest, the ghostly scent of the Roganwood tickling his nose, but he was too preoccupied to give it any thought.