Second Sight

Title: Second Sight
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", an Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse/rape, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Just join my YahooGroup to be informed of any updates to this or any of my other fics - http://groups.yahoo.com/group/makaikittyfics
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length

Second Sight

Chapter Four: To the Sea

“How long will it take you?” Constantine was trying not to whine, but it wasn’t easy. He still thought that it was the right thing to do, to bring the young makara to Trovilla where he would be safe and have a chance at being happy, but now that the time of parting was close at hand Constantine wasn’t sure that sending Liam was the best thing to do. The young prince couldn’t remember a time when Liam had not been near. The terkarian had been just outside of the door when he had been born, he’d held him close when he’d cried himself to sleep the first time that he’d been forced to go out in public in a dress, he’d escorted him to his rooms on his wedding night, and more recently he’d been at Blaise’s side during all of his training. The thought of the castle without Liam under its roof simply didn’t seem right.

“Terkarians don’t do well with transporting spells,” Liam admitted without shame. Some daemons were good at magicks, others weren’t. He’d accepted such things long ago. And, in this instance, such a thing seemed not to be a true hindrance. He needed some time away, some time to himself, so a spell that would send him to Paaragora and back within a few days didn’t seem to be to his advantage. “Alone I can make the ride in little more than a week, weather permitting. The fall storms should hold off, but I’ll be a few days delayed in the Krilly forest if the season shifts too early.”

“Is it safe to go alone then?” Constantine’s head knew that Liam was a more than capable warrior, and that terkarians were daemons suited to the wildness of nature, but his heart would not allow him to be still. They had sent Sammir Burvaraz back to his homeland the morning after his audience with the royal family, envoy in tow, with word for their lord to ready his son for transport and to begin the process of choosing a permanent proxy to send to the Trovillan court. Makara, it seemed, did not do well with transport spells either, so the daemon and his people had gone back on horseback. Had they been percurians then the whole of the matter would have been done with already, their guest already finding rest in his own bed, but it seemed that things would not be so simple. And with the threat of possible violence along the way Constantine could not help but feel ill at ease over the upcoming journey. “Maybe you should take some men with you?”

Laughter, hastily stifled, turned Constantine’s head. They were in the courtyard, Liam’s horse saddled and standing ready as his master checked the supplies one last time, the royal family forming a loose circle around the animal and its rider. Just behind them stood the two daemons that would be taking Liam’s place for the weeks that he would be gone. His vice-captain and right hand man, Balint, was an intimidating mountain of a man, tall and thick. A long mane of thick white hair fell down his back, pale blue eyes were ever alert, his dark blue markings stark against skin that was so pale that it nearly blended with his colorless hair. He had an angry looking scar running across his face, from his temple on the left to his neck on the right, the skin around it puckered and dark. Constantine knew that if the huge man were to walk towards them it would be with a pronounced limp, a grievous wound if it still plagued a daemon that should have healed from most anything with time, but all present knew that even with his old injury the large broadsword at his hip would strike true before any enemy could even think ill thoughts. Balint was older and more experienced than the captain of the guard, but he had never been able to bow to the old king the way that Samuel the Fierce had demanded, and so he was the second in command. The position suited him well, however, and he was as loyal to Liam as Liam was to Cristopher. He was a proud warrior of the kingdom of Trovilla and always would be. That was why Liam felt safe in leaving his friend and comrade in charge of what was most important to him.

Beside Balint stood the most dangerous woman in the kingdom. King Samuel had not believed that women were capable of much of anything, especially not protecting the king, so the fact that Rizalina had risen to become the third in charge of the royal guard under the man’s rule was a miracle in and of itself. She and Balint had come to them as a team, having fought together for nearly three quarters of a century, gaining a reputation as a truly deadly pair long before the old king had ever set eyes upon them. King Samuel had wanted that power, as well as the reputation, for his own, and so he had allowed a lone woman to enter his guard. Cristopher, for once, did not regret the choices that his father had made while king. Rizalina was an ertana, what some might call a mountain witch, a user of earth magicks, her bare feet an easy clue to those who were paying attention. Ertana did not like to be separated from the source of their power. Although, for most men, and some women, it was hard to notice her feet when faced with the full force of Rizalina’s stunning appearance. She was a statuesque beauty, nearly as tall as her lover, full of hip and breast alike. Long auburn hair cascaded down her back, and dark rust-colored eyes that were sharp and fierce stared out from a face the color of the earth after a rain. She was armed to the teeth, daggers sticking out of the tops of her boots and a pair of twin short swords visible just over the curves of her shoulders, more weapons surely hidden somewhere on her person. But, one look at the daemon and you knew, without a doubt, that she needed no blade to slay any who stood in her way. She was a truly remarkable woman.

“Rest assured,” Balint’s voice was deep and rumbling, “our captain can take care of anything that might come his way all on his own. Others would only slow him down, my prince.”

“He’d probably enjoy a little trouble,” Rizalina’s smoky voice sounded almost wistful, as though she too wished to encounter a few enemies and a difficult fight alone in the wilderness with only her own skills to rely upon. Beside her Balint raised one great hand and placed it on his lover’s shoulder, thinking that perhaps after their captain had returned he might be best served asking for a brief leave for himself and Rizalina. She was not the type to enjoy being cooped up in civilization for too long without a break to sate her darker desires. There was trouble enough in the outer reaches to ease her soul, he was certain.

“They’re right,” Liam was thinking much the same thing that Balint was. Rizalina was a capable soldier, and he was glad to have her, but he knew that she was not nearly as content as her partner to live in times of peace. He’d send them out as soon as he returned. “I’ll be longer coming back than going, in fact. And that is assuming that the boy can ride.”

“And if he can’t?” Tabitha wondered, amused by a few of the ideas that sprang to mind if he couldn’t; but even after her mind stilled she tried to keep the smile on her face, because she knew that her husband needed her to. Constantine might be more vocal in his unease, but Cristopher did not like the idea of Liam leaving either. He was far more than a guard or advisor to their king, everyone knew this, and Tabitha suspected that her husband would not rest well until he had his best friend back under their roof. It would be a difficult few weeks.

“I’ll manage,” Liam promised. Although, in truth, he wasn’t really sure what he would do if the makara that he went to fetch couldn’t take a mount. He wanted some time away, certainly, but he didn’t exactly fancy the idea of waking the entire distance with a city-bred daemon child in tow. He didn’t want to be away for that long.

***
It had taken longer than expected to make his good-byes, mostly because Constantine was unwilling to let him go when the time came, but at long last Liam found himself on the road, quickly passing through all of the small villages that peppered the area around the castle. It was a fair day, fall barely having set in, and the further he got from civilization the more Liam found himself smiling. He hadn’t left the castle for more than half a day in nearly twenty-five years and, although he loved serving in the royal guard, it was somewhat of a relief to know that he would have only his own company for the next few days. He had left his family in more than capable hands, of that he was sure, so he had little to worry about for the next week. Something that was new to him.

He loved Cristopher and Constantine, Blaise and Tabitha as well, for they were his kin more so than any that had ever been tied to him by blood, title, or obligation, but the past months had worn on him like none before them. The king and queen were very much in love, the young princes were in love… even his second and third in command were in love; yet he was alone, as always. Liam could barely drudge up the memories of a time when he might have known what it was like to hold someone in his arms and feel legitimate affection for someone that he was intimately connected with, so long had it been. And, after years of being alone, he had come to the conclusion that it was simply what the Fates held in store for him. He was not meant to know that bond. But, the heart did not always agree with the head and, as much as he knew that he was not meant for another, seeing the newlyweds surrounding him had reminded him that man was not meant to be alone. It had been easy enough to ignore his desires when everyone close to him had been miserably separated from love, slaking what needs his body had with men that his heart did not know, but now that life had changed for his companions it seemed that old dreams wanted to resurface. He even suspected that Constantine had begun a campaign to set him up with one of the courtiers, a handsome enough man even if he did seem to be somewhat empty-headed, but if the boy honestly thought that such a thing would ever happen then he was sadly mistaken. Courtiers did not mix well with soldiers.

Being far from those who were happy and in love would do his heart good, he was certain. It was only his mission, or more so his destination, that bothered Liam as he looked out over the seemingly endless expanse of greenery that stood before him when he crested the last of the hills that created the valley in which the castle rested. He was to go to Paaragora, a place that he had hoped never to see again in all of his long immortal lifetime. He had loved the sea once, the first time that he’d seen it, but by the time that he’d last seen it he’d hated it with a bone-deep passion. And now he must return. He wished, not for the first time, that their kingdom had never known the name of Sammir Burvaraz and his Lord Tournkin. The makara brought up too many painful memories.

A sound to his right startled Liam out of his thoughts, and he spun in his saddle, sword already out and ready, before he realized that it was simply one of his own men out on patrol. It was with a sheepish smile that Liam sheathed his sword, silently reprimanding himself for being so much on edge when he hadn’t even left the valley yet.

“Captain!” Liam waved back as Erez, a young percurian who was new to the guard, spurred his mount to a gallop and fast approached. He was smiling, happy to see his captain and obviously filled with excitement at even the mundane job of border patrol.

“Erez,” Liam nodded, trying to keep his face neutral even as Erez broke out into a broad grin at his captain having remembered his name. He needn’t have seemed so surprised, however, because Liam made it a point of knowing the name of each and every daemon serving under him, as well as some small fact or two about them. Even the ones who had lost their lives during the old king’s rule. Those, he would never forget. Could never forget.

“Setting out on your journey, sir?”

“Yes,” Liam could practically feel the energy radiating off of the younger man, and it was an infectious sort of thing that made the captain smile. This was a man who was proud to wear the uniform of the royal Trovillan guard. The sort of man that they could always use more of. Luckily, since Cristopher’s rule had begun, they suddenly had an abundance of new blood in the guard. “Balint is in charge until I return. Listen to him and all will be well.”

“Of course, sir,” Erez promised, “To the letter, sir.”

A raised eyebrow, as purple as the eye that it shielded, was question enough for Erez to press on, words coming quick on each other in an attempt to cover his nervousness. Erez hadn’t expected a private chat with his captain in the middle of his patrol. Not that he was complaining, he adored his captain and considered it an honor to even be in his presence, but he also was left at a loss for something good to talk about. It had been a quiet patrol.

“Balint isn’t the sort of man that you say no to, now is he, sir? Commands a certain respect, what with that deep voice and the broad shoulders, and the fact that most of us have to look up just to meet his eyes. And the Lady Rizalina is even scarier,” he seemed to realize what he had said just seconds after it was too late to take the words back, and the pale daemon turned a shade of pink that rivaled the leaves on the fall-turned trees at his back. “Did I say scary? I… I… meant…”

“Terrifying?” Liam provided helpfully, trying his best not to laugh at the young man while agreeing with him at the same time. Rizalina was one of the most imposing daemons, male or female, that he had ever met. And he’d met his share of dangerous daemons.

“Sir,” Erez bowed his head, still embarrassed but not as scared as he had been moments ago, worried that he might have offended his captain. It was well known that the three officers were very close, and it wouldn’t do to insult his captain’s third in command and his friend in one foul swoop.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks,” Liam decided to have pity on the poor man and let the conversation go. He might have found it quite amusing, but it was obvious that Erez just couldn’t go on as he was. Liam reminded himself that taking his sport with the new recruits was not befitting a man of his status and moved on to more acceptable topics, hoping somewhere in the back of his mind that one of the soldiers in Paaragora, or even his young charge, would be a bit more fun. “Until then keep an eye out for any trouble. I’ll return as soon as I can.”

“Be careful sir,” Erez begged, suddenly looking serious, eyes darting around at the woods on either side of them. He remembered, suddenly, that it had not been an entirely uneventful patrol. “There’ve been rumors all throughout the villages about insurgents and trouble-makers. King Cristopher has done right by everyone so far, but there’s some that just aren’t happy, no matter how good they’ve got it.”

“The southern tribes?” Liam was relatively certain that he knew all of the latest intel, but the men who patrolled furthest from the castle often heard things long before anyone else. It never hurt to listen to them.

“There’s them, sir,” Erez agreed, “But, last time I was in the tavern down there,” he pointed to the smallest village, on the edge of the great expanse of fields, “I heard that there was more than just the southern tribes to worry about. In fact, just this morning, I heard some whispers about your mission.”

“What sort of whispers?” Liam was a little annoyed that Erez hadn’t come to him when he’d heard these rumors, but he held his temper because, truthfully, there were always rumors circulating in the towns and villages around them. And if even a tenth of them held truth he would be surprised. It was probably nothing.

“I was going to tell someone,” Erez picked up on Liam’s furrowed brows and the harsh set of his lips, sensing the other man’s displeasure, and he rounded his shoulders a bit, bowing his head and avoiding his captain’s eyes before going on. It wouldn’t do to anger him further. “But it was the start of my shift, and Vice-Captain Balint gave me a chewing out a few weeks ago about never leaving my post, no matter what. So I thought that, at the end of my shift-“

“It’s all right,” Liam assured him, understanding all too well why the daemon might be a little nervous about disobeying Balint after a tongue-lashing. Balint was his vice-captain and still he intimidated him sometimes. To a new recruit the larger man must seem a monster when in a fit. “I’m not mad. Just tell me what you heard.”

“Sir,” Erez straightened up a bit, giving the best report he could while on horseback in a field, “I heard that someone, I don’t know who, has gotten word of Paaragora wanting to reopen trade between us. I don’t think that anyone knows exactly why you’re going, but I heard that one of the tribes has hired a mercenary to try to stop you from bringing back offerings from Paaragora.”

“A mercenary?” Liam almost thought that it was funny. Chances were, unless they’d gone out of realm to find the assassin, that he had met the man, or men, already. They most likely were former suitors of Constantine’s. It wouldn’t earn them any mercy if he ran across them, he hadn’t liked a one when they’d swarmed the castle to court their princess last year, but it would still be an odd meeting. And one that would end in bloodshed should the mercenary seek to disrupt his mission.

“Are you sure that it’s wise to go all the way to the sea alone, Captain?”

“The day that I can’t handle a few mercenaries is the day that I resign my post and move to the mountains to become a monk,” Liam assured him as he spurred his great black steed on and made to move past the younger guard. He spared a look for Erez as he passed, a hand on his shoulder meant to be comforting even though it made the other man jump in his saddle, before returning to his journey. “Besides, the southern tribes aren’t exactly wealthy these days. They probably couldn’t hire anything more than amateurs.”

Erez hoped that his captain was right.

TBC ...