Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter 46.
Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #46. 'Til death do us part.

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.

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance of places and characters to actual persons, living or dead, and places is purely coincidental.
The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Authors Notes: Internets have finally been fixed. Turned out it was a faulty router… go figure, it took weeks to figure that one out, and half a day to get a new one.
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: Secrets, secrets and more secrets.

---

Chapter 46. 'Til death do us part.

The Beltane moon waned in the skies, the Strong Sun moon waxed and the Litha festival came and went, but the six youngsters never spoke of what had happened in Kalpartown.

Brigale went back to Castle Marines where he kept up his usual antics, chasing maids and knight’s daughters without discrimination.

Owain started traveling to Kalpartown whenever the fancy took him, but he never wanted to explain why.

Hylmir sank himself into his studies, pointedly making himself very unavailable every time Leyjen tried to catch him on his own.

Tiensin studied harder than ever before, and at his request Polinues convinced one of the law professors at the academy to allow Tiensin to sit in on his lectures, even though it wasn’t a part of Tiensin’s curriculum.
Polinues often wondered about Owain’s words, about selffulfilling prophecies, as he watched Tiensin drink in every speck of information handed to him about the laws of Far’yond and the legislature of the Regency.

Polinues himself threw himself into his studies, mostly to take his mind of the Beltane festival and what had happened there, but he also found himself applying himself more than usual in the physical part of his education. In only eight weeks he had advanced a whole level in hand-to-hand combat, as well as sword fighting and the clerical martial arts. His trainers were astounded by his progress as well as the two kilos he’d put on in muscles.

Leyjen seemed to be the only one unaffected by the Beltane festival, he went around his work with the same ease as ever before, although Polinues noticed that Leyjen had grown more quiet over the weeks.

None of the six friends took any notice of Polinues’ cousin, Jorad Marines, as he skulked around them, never quite working up the nerve to approach them directly, although he let up on bullying Polinues every time they saw each other.


Biting his wrist through the fabric of his robes, Leyjen stroked his erection with quick short pulls.
That morning he had seen Polinues off to his three days of meditation before his Turning, and the sight of the teen topless and without his cowl had sent Leyjen over the edge.
He had needed to force himself so he wouldn’t jump into the meditation chamber with Polinues and fuck him into the cold stone floor.
Now he was stuck on Healer duty at the seminary for the next three days, with the image of Polinues’ half naked body seared into his brain.
Grinding his teeth he came into the small hankerchief with a bonejarring suddenness, just as someone knocked on the door.

Leyjen jumped so hard he knocked his knee on the underside of the desk, as he croaked, fumbling to tuck himself away,
“Yes. Just a moment, I’ll be right with you.”

The door opened slowly while Leyjen shook down the skirts of his robes, knocking his thigh hard on the corner of the desk as he tried to hurry around the massive wooden thing.
Jorad’s flushed face peeked around the door, his brown eyes glazed and his hand quivering.

“Shaoir?” His voice was unusually quiet and respectful, as he slipped inside and closed the door behind himself.

“Jorad? What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be teaching a class?”

“Yes. I got someone to cover for me. I’m in no condition to teach right now.”
Leyjen stared at the young man with questioning eyes.

Jorad Marines was the second son of Lord Wrailan’s youngest brother, and three years older than Polinues. Jorad had made life miserable for Polinues from the day he entered the Temples, and Leyjen hated the little shit for it.
Jorad had also from their first meeting despised Leyjen, whom he thought was nothing more than a filthy servant, and deserved worse treatment than the pigs.

In the last three years Leyjen had noticed a change in Jorad, and he had noticed it the most in their recent trip to Kalpartown. Jorad been respectful to the older clerics, and even left Polinues alone the entire way.
Seeing this behaviour had made Leyjen realize that Jorad had been changing for the better in the previous years, and now he stood there in his office, his brown hair hanging into his eyes, and a weak smile of respect on his lips.

“What is it, Jorad? Why are you in no condition to teach? Are you ill?” Leyjen reached out a hand to offer Jorad a seat, but the younger cleric pulled away from the touch. With slow, deliberate movements Jorad made his way over to the examination bench, and sat down.
Leyjen took notice of the tremble in his muscles and the pasty white tone of his skin, the flushed cheeks and the glazed eyes.

“I have a problem.” Jorad licked his lips, hesitating he eyed Leyjen from underneath his heavy bangs and tried again.
“You know that I’ve always had a problem with infections in my piercings, right?”
Leyjen nodded slowly, pulling the small wheeled stool from underneath a side table, so he could sit down facing Jorad.

“I do everything that I can to keep them clean, but they just keep getting infected. My mentor used to say it was a sign from the Gods that I shouldn’t be in the Temples, but my father never wanted to hear it.”
Jorad wrung his hands, struggling to hide the tremble.
“I hate it here, Leyjen. I wanted to study law and become a judge. I can’t stand the endless sanctimonious bullshit, but I can’t leave. Father would have my head if I tried, and grandfather too. What if my mentor was right? What if I’m not meant to be here?”

“I’ve gotten infections, Jorad. Seriously, we all get them at one point or another. Even Polinues has gotten a couple. Remember how I got sick after the Abbey fire? I got an infection in one of my chest piercings then, simply because my body was too weak to fight it. You’re just more prone to infections than most. All you can do about it is clean them conscientiously, and perhaps more often than most of us.”

“But I do. I clean them too much, if anything. But this… This just won’t go away. I’ve tried everything I can think of, but it just won’t clear up. I’ve been throwing up for the past day, I feel dizzy and I have a fever. Then this morning I was trying to talk to one of my peers, and I had a hard time making a coherent sentence.”
Jorad’s voice turned desperate and pleading, a small tear pearling in his lashes, and for the first time since he had met the boy Leyjen actually felt a stir of emotion, a little pity for the younger man.

Clearing his throat Leyjen turned to a side table and splashed some alcohol on his hands, before he stood up and said,
“Alright, which one is it? Let me see it.”

Jorad’s eyes went slightly round, but his lips relaxed and with trembling fingers he pulled free the laces of his robes, and leaned forwards.
“It’s my initiation ring. It tore a little bit on the Beltane festival. I was playing with one of my nephews and it snagged on something. The infection just keeps getting worse.”
Jorad’s voice was strangely calm as he pulled the robes down to his shoulders, and Leyjen brushed his hair out of the way.

The silence between them was deafening, all Leyjen could hear for a moment was the rush of his own blood in his veins, and then Jorad’s quiet objection as Leyjen pulled the robes down to his waist, exposing the long line of his back.
The piercing was slightly swollen and red, but around it was a halo of dark veins, a thick black line snaking down most of Jorad’s back.

“You only started vomiting yesterday?”

“Yes. Late last night, after dinner.”

“What about the other symptoms? The fever and the dizziness?”

“I started feeling faint a couple of days ago. The piercing started bleeding the day before, and I had a hard time cleaning it. Then two days ago I started feeling faint and my heart would race. I woke up feverish yesterday, and today I’ve been miserable since I woke up.”

“Sit still. I need to run out for a moment, but I’ll be right back. Just sit here and wait for me. If anyone comes, just tell them I’m closed for the day, alright?”
Leyjen pulled Jorad’s robes back up over his shoulders, and patted his shoulder gently.

Jorad opened his mouth to ask something, but Leyjen stopped him by handing him a couple of painkillers and a glass of water, ordering him to swallow, and then drink a glass or two of water while Leyjen was out.
Then he left the younger cleric in the office, running as fast as he could through the seminary.

A few moments later Leyjen crashed through the doors of one of the class rooms, the entire class of fourth stage novices yelping in surprise, their teacher jumping back from his desk.

“Hylmir. I need your help. Right now. It’s serious.” Leyjen gasped for air, his amber eyes burning as he stared at Hylmir with a look of despair on his face.
Hylmir stared back in shock, then he hiccuped slightly, turning to his students.

“Class is dismissed for the day. Quietly, boys. Go quietly so you don’t disrupt the other classes.” He shouted over the room as the thirty something teens jumped up with a huge ruckus. Once the kids were all gone, Hylmir locked the class room and walked behind Leyjen to the Healing Halls.

After walking a couple of circles around the Halls they finally found who Leyjen was looking for, and Alina walked beside Hylmir back to the Healer’s office at the seminary.

Jorad was reclining on the bench when the three walked in, his face went white when he saw the two people following Leyjen.

“It’s alright, Jorad. They’re my friends. They can be trusted. Show us the infection.”
Leyjen patted Jorad’s shoulder and helped him undo the robes again. Alina took one quick look at the black veins streaking his back, and shook her head with a sad look on her face.

“I’m so sorry, cleric Marines.” She whispered, clasping Jorad’s hand in her own, and sitting down on the small stool infront of him she started to pray in a quiet voice.

Hylmir didn’t want to give up that easily so he and Leyjen worked together, carefully removing the ring from the nape of Jorad’s neck, and cleaning the infected piercing thoroughly. Once the wound was clean the two clerics inspected it carefully, Hylmir finally making the final call.

The three of them walked Jorad to the Healing Halls where Alina presented his case to the Head Healer, Chauncer.
Leyjen stayed with Jorad as he changed into patient gowns, and Hylmir went looking for Jorad’s mentor.
By dinner time Jorad was resting comfortably in his bed at the Healing Halls, and Leyjen sat with him, while Alina and three other Healers worked on his infection.

Leyjen knew Alina well enough to recognize the look in her eyes and he had to struggle to keep the smile on his face as he assured Jorad that he would be fine in a few days. Jorad smiled back with a look that said he knew the truth.
Alina walked Leyjen out of the Halls once Jorad fell asleep, and sat with him for over an hour on the front steps, assuring him she would take excellent care of Jorad, and make his last days comfortable.
There was nothing else left to do for him, except pray.


Slipping through the dark hallways of Castle Marines Leyjen’s bare feet whispered across the carpet, and the doorknob creaked as he pressed down on the warm metal.
A single candle stood on a table near the window, and Polinues’ slender body was silhouetted against the glass where he sat on the window seat.
Leyjen eased the door closed behind him, leaning against it for a few breaths before he entered the room.

Polinues didn’t stir, his pale grey eye fixed on the blue moon riding high in the skies outside.
To Leyjen’s eyes the sky was already paling with the approaching dawn.

“What’s on your mind? You’ll make it rain if you keep up that gloom.” Leyjen said quietly, sitting down on the bed, instinctively fluffing a pillow.

Polinues didn’t move, only licked his lips slowly, flicking his lip ring from left to right and back, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Why is it so easy to die?”

The question took Leyjen by surprise and for a moment he couldn’t answer.

“I mean, we are forced into this position. We don’t have a choice, we never have a choice. It’s not our decision to be born, it’s not our decision where in line we are born, or to whom, we don’t have a say in whether we become clerics or not, and we can’t refuse to be pierced like some pin cushion. And then when the stupid things get infected, we’re just told it’s our damn fault, and that we aren’t faithful enough or pious enough, and if we complain enough we’re shunned. And then we just die.”
Polinues snapped his fingers to emphasise his words, and Leyjen moved over to the window seat.

Without meaning to he remembered the last time they had shared a moment on that same window seat, when Polinues had only been a small boy and had caught Leyjen and Amraeen in bed together.
Leyjen barely managed to stop himself from blushing as he remembered the embarrassment.
Clearing his throat, Leyjen reached out to touch the teen and tried to catch his eye.

“It’s the human condition, I suppose. We can’t control our birth and the family we are stuck with, and we don’t have much say in how much we care for them or they for us, nor can we do much about our place in life. And we all have a destiny that is as much out of our hands as anything else.”

Polinues only glanced at his mentor with a small sneer, then turned his eye back to the moon.

“You’re thinking about Jorad, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Who else do I know that’s dying?”

“Stupid question, sorry. Do you want to talk about it? It’s obviously weighing on you, so I’m here if you want to talk.”

“Why do I care so much? I mean, the little shithead’s been making my life a living Hell for as long as I can remember, and now he’s dying and I’m all torn up about it. Why?”

“Because you care.”

“I don’t. I hate his guts.”

“You can’t hate someone you don’t care about.”

“Cliché. Fuck, Leyjen, and you say I sound like a bad romance novel?”

“It’s the truth. Love and Hate are sisters that cannot live without each other. Think about it. No matter how much you hate someone, when you think about it, you will find that you do care about them, somewhere deep down. Or that at least you did once. Death is never easy to deal with. And sometimes it’s harder to lose someone you hate, because you can’t make peace with them before they go.”

“That’s such a fucking cliché. I hate Arlathi with every fiber in my body, and I will fucking dance on his grave when I finally kill the little shit, and I won’t be all torn up about him being dead and buried. But Jorad… I don’t know… I was thinking about how sad Auntie Sambra looked, and cousin Danuca, when I saw them at my Turning. And so many of the fifth stage novices have been all out of sorts lately, because they all fucking adore him. And Lanja, and Eroela, and like half of my little sisters… And Jorad always made me laugh with that juggling trick he always showed us at our Life Day party, remember? Maybe it was the only time he ever made me laugh, but I missed it this year.”

They sat quiet for a few minutes, Leyjen found himself unable to answer the teen, except with some stupid clichés that he had been told himself when his mother died.

Instead he found himself studying the right side of Polinues’ face, which was illuminated by the moonlight.

The right eye moved in harmony with the healthy left eye, but it was only a dead white marble with a jagged scar running down the middle.
The scars made half his face look like something from a horror story, the hairline and the ear had just barely been saved, while the broken bones underneath had only been partially mended.

A large tear slid down the teen’s cheek, and Leyjen shifted on the seat, offering Polinues the comfort of his embrace. Polinues still fit so perfectly in his arms, his head resting on Leyjen’s shoulder, soft lips quivering against the skin of his neck.
Leyjen stroked his hair, and nibbled at the shell of his ear, shifting on the seat again to get more comfortable.

Polinues trailed soft kisses up Leyjen’s neck to his jaw, then swiped the tip of his tongue over Leyjen’s lips, and poked between them, demanding entry.
Leyjen parted his lips only to tug at the ring in Polinues’ bottom lip, drawing a long moan from the teen.
Polinues ran his tongue over Leyjen’s palate, swirling around the elder’s tongue, then grabbed his bottom lip between his teeth and tugged hard enough to make Leyjen hiss.

Leyjen leaned back against the wall, letting Polinues move to straddle his lap, as they kissed.
Cupping his ass Leyjen squeezed hard, sliding a finger between the cheeks and pressed against the pucker through the thin linen trousers, while thrusting his hips up at the same time.
Polinues broke their kiss for a moment to pull Leyjen’s nightshirt over his head, then crushed their lips together again, as he unlaced Leyjen’s trousers with trembling hands to wrap his fingers around the throbbing cock underneath.
Leyjen squirmed and moaned, bucking into the tight grip, his hands roaming over Polinues body, tickling and teasing all the sensitive spots, before unlacing his trousers.

Polinues tangled his hand in Leyjen’s hair and pulled his head back, sinking his teeth into the connection between shoulder and neck, making Leyjen gasp with pleasurable pain.
He rubbed his thumb into the slit of Leyjen’s cock, making the older man gasp, and kept nibbling at his neck.
Leyjen sat still, panting pathetically, fingers digging into the cusions of the window seat.
He stared up at Polinues as he jumped to his feet and let his trousers fall to the floor.
Leyjen grabbed him by the hips and wrapped his lips around the swollen head of his cock. Polinues fisted his hands in Leyjen’s hair, forcing him to take him in to the roots.
The older cleric sucked him in hard, swallowing as the cock hit the back of his throat, swiping his tongue over the slit as he licked the head, moaning at the tangy taste of Polinues’ precome.

Polinues pulled out of Leyjen’s mouth with a demanding tug on his hair, then stepping up on the window seat, he sat down on his haunches, smearing Leyjen’s precome over the head of his cock.

“No, Ilithil, not like this. I need to stretch you…”
Leyjen gasped as Polinues sank down on his cock, forcing the head into the tight hole.
“I want it to hurt, Leyjen. I need to feel you. The pain reminds me I’m alive. Please, just fuck me.” Polinues moaned, gritting his teeth against the pain, focusing all his energy on relaxing his muscles.

Slowly Polinues sank down on the thick cock, both of them moaning through the pain, until Polinues was sitting on his lap.
Leyjen pulled him in for a gentle kiss, Polinues resting his forehead against Leyjen’s as they broke apart.

“I love you, Leyjen. The only times I feel alive is when I’m with you like this. This is real. Like this I can forget all the hate and the misery. All the darkness.”

Leyjen kissed him again, gripping his ass tightly to give the teen some leverage.

“I know, Ilithil. We share that.” He whispered between the pink lips, claiming the teen with another kiss.

Polinues raised himself slightly before he sank down again, rising a little furter the next time, and a little higher.
After a few minutes Polinues was slamming down against Leyjen’s thrusts, long fingers digging into Leyjen’s shoulders for leverage, Leyjen leaving long deep bruises on Polinues’ thighs.

Leyjen felt the heat rising in his groin, his spine tingling with the pleasure, his lips found Polinues’ nipple, and he sucked at the hard nib, flipping the steel ring with his tongue.
Polinues arched his back, clenching his ass hard around Leyjen’s cock, and tugged on Leyjen’s hair, and with that Leyjen came undone.
Polinues growled at the warmth spreading in his gut, and Leyjen whined at the pain in his neck when Polinues pulled his head as far back as it would go.

“Can I finish?” Polinues asked in a strangled voice, climbing off Leyjen.

“How do you want me?” Leyjen moaned, his muscles shaking so badly he couldn’t stand up.
He slipped down off the seat, to his knees and bent over the window seat.
Polinues grabbed his cheeks and pulled them apart to press his tongue against the dark pucker.

“Fuck, Leyjen. You taste so good.” He moaned, smacking his lips greedily, swirling his tongue around the twitching hole.

“Please. Come on, Ilithil.” Leyjen pressed his ass against the exploring tongue.
Polinues chuckled, rose to his knees and pressed the head of his cock into the tight opening, Leyjen moaning loudly through the pain, until Polinues was in to the roots.

“I love how wet you are, Leyjen. Do I do this to you? Is this all because of me?”

“Of course it is. Who could resist you wanton little ass? Now fuck me, like I did you.”

Polinues nibbled at Leyjen’s shoulder, but the elder cleric pushed him away as he ordered, and Polinues chuckled as he complied.

For a few minutes the only sounds in the room were their moans and skin slapping against skin, then Polinues bit Leyjen’s back with a loud growl, spilling himself into the tight channel.
They lay still for a long while, Polinues panting heavily and Leyjen mewling every time Polinues’ cock twitched inside his body. Finally he slipped out and Polinues stood to grab the towel off the wash basin.
They washed themselves off in silence and Polinues lay down on the bed, Leyjen offering him his embrace to fall asleep in.
Leyjen watched the skies outside the window grow lighter, and as soon as the teen was asleep Leyjen slipped out of the room, heading for his own.


Polinues started awake, taking a few moments to recognize the prescence on the bed with him as Brigale. The nineteen winters old knight was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head hanging down.
Polinues’ eye trailed over the blackclad form in the grey light of the early dawn as he raised himself up on his arm. The suntanned hands were hanging between his knees, nervously rubbing together, and Polinues heard his friend sigh.

“Brigale. There’s blood on your hands.” Polinues exclaimed in shock, and Brigale jumped, raising his hands to look at them.

“No, there’s not.” He muttered, but the tone told Polinues that the knight had something on his conscience.
The novice sat up and touched Brigale’s shoulder.

Brigale pulled away from the touch and made a strangled sound.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me.”

“What the Hell, Brig. It’s me, Polinues. Are you alright? You look like shit.”

“I’m fine. I can’t sleep.”

Polinues got comfortable against the headboard of his bed and waited for his friend to elaborate. He knew that pushing Brigale only served to push the knight away. Patience was the greatest virtue when dealing with Brigale.

After a few minutes the knight looked at his hands again, absentmindedly stroking the callouses that covered most of his palms.
“I have a nightmare. It keeps crying, and just won’t shut up. It makes no sense at all, since it wasn’t even born, but I guess I killed it too, so…”

“What keeps crying?”

“The baby. Whenever I try to close my eyes to sleep, I see her, begging me, accusing… Sometimes I can hear the baby in the daytime. I think I’m going crazy.”

“You’re not going crazy. You have a guilty conscience, that’s all. What did you do, Brigale?”

“Do you remember Knight Chenoth’s daughter? The second one? The one I was running away from on the Beltane?”

Polinues nodded, because his voice wouldn’t move past the lump in his throat.
Brigale swiped a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes, and sighed from the bottom of his soul.
The sound gave Polinues a chill that grabbed his spine hard and refused to let go.

“She came to me. About a fortnight ago. We met down by Black River Falls. She told me she was with child, and insisted that it was mine. I told her to get lost, that I would not marry her, nor father the child. Then she got abusive and started threatening all sorts of shit. I smacked her, and she tried to hit me back. Then I had my hands around her throat and was squeezing it. She was so weak, she couldn’t fight me off, so I pushed her into the river, under the water. I drowned her, Polinues, and hid the body in the caves below.”
Brigale’s voice was quiet, steady and so cold that Polinues shivered.

The tyro knight twisted around on the bed, his black eye wild, his hand wrapping around Polinues’ arm hard enough to bruise.
“I need your help, Polinues. I can’t sleep because I keep dreaming about her. She’s always there, accusing… accusing… And I’ve started hearing the baby everywhere. Crying like a banshee. She wants a burial, but I don’t dare to go down there again. I nearly drowned myself getting her corpse into the cave. I need your help. How do I get rid of her?”

Polinues swallowed a few times before the lump in his throat went down, then he licked his lips slowly.
“You must first make peace with what you did, Brigale. You will never be rid of them unless you deal with your conscience.”

“My conscience is just fine. I don’t care about the bitch or her bastard. It’s my sanity that I care about. I need your help shutting them up. What can I do to rid myself of ghosts?”

Polinues stared back with horror, his blood thundering in his ears, as he realized how deep the darkness in Brigale’s soul really was.
Brigale’s eyes did not waver for a long moment, the desperate plea digging its way down to Polinues’ soul.

Licking his lips slowly, flicking the steel ring in his lip, Polinues sighed and nodded his head.
“I don’t know really. Maybe if we could get her corpse out of the cave and into the river… A flood could wash her out.”

“I can’t live with this until the spring. Plus, a flood doesn’t sound plausible, since the river flows from the Peolin Sea.”

“True. Also a flood could wash the body deeper into the caves.”

“What about a blessing? Couldn’t you bless the grounds from the outside, so she could rest in peace?”

Polinues choked on his laugh, turning it into a strangled whine.
“I’m nowhere near powerful enough for something like that, Brigale. We’re going to have to tell Leyjen about this.”

Brigale grabbed Polinues by the arms, shaking him hard enough for him to smack his head into the headboard, the violence in Briagle’s reaction frightened Polinues enough to make him cower away from the knight.

“NO. We can’t tell Leyjen. He’ll never cover this up for us. You have to help me. Can’t you then make up some magick to put them to rest? Please, Polinues, we’re old enough to fix this ourselves.”

“My magick doesn’t work that way. If you want to make her rest in peace, we’re going to need Arlathi, and I know you don’t want to tell him…” Polinues trailed off, staring at the knight with a distant look for a few minutes, before a smile spread over his lips.
Brigale recognized that smile instantly. It meant that Polinues had just come up with a solid plan.


Leyjen muttered curses under his breath as he gripped the edge of the cold, wet rock with his toes and stared down at the sparkling water below.

“Come along, Leyjen. Are you scared? Jump.” Brigale shouted at the cleric with a derisive laugh from below but Leyjen only managed to grunt at him.

He still couldn’t figure out how the two idiots had managed to rope him into this nonsense, especially since he and Polinues were supposed to return to the Temples that evening.
Arlathi had left the Castle earlier that morning, claiming some urgent work he needed to finish, so Polinues had begged to be allowed to stay one more day.
But nontheless Leyjen had found himself trudging through the forest, just around noon, having promised the boys a swim under the Black River Falls, and that he would show them the way into the caves behind the falls.

Drawing a deep breath, Leyjen tried to ignore Polinues’ scathing commentary from the deep pool below and jumped off the edge.
The wind rushed in his ears as he flipped in the air, and dove head first into the cool water.
As he broke the surface he was greeted with a screaming ovation from both teens and Polinues yelled at him to do it again.

The three of them soaked in the cool waters for a few hours before Brigale and Polinues began to push Leyjen to show them the caves.
It took them a while longer before the older cleric was willing to move out of the clear pool but eventually Leyjen got sick of their whining.

The path was dangerously narrow, slippery with wet moss, and climbing up on it from the deep pool was far trickier than Leyjen remembered, but somehow the three of them managed to climb up.
Pressing their backs against the stone wall they sidestepped along the narrow ledge, Leyjen shouting over the roar of the falls,
“Hold on tight when you go under the water. If you fall in, you’ll drown, the undertow is too strong.”

Slowly, step by step, they went under the western fall, the water hammering their bodies against the cliff and Polinues was convinced he would drown standing up, when suddenly the cliff behind him disappeared and Polinues stumbled into the caves.

Leyjen led them deep into the western cave, rattling off the little information that he knew about the caves, and how caves in general are formed.
At the bottom of the cave Leyjen led them through a narrow passage to the east and they entered a smaller cave that was only lit up by a small sliver of light coming in through a passage leading to the eastern cave.

Brigale charged on ahead of them, Leyjen following him with a warning to be careful, while Polinues trailed behind, a sense of dread washing over him in sickening waves. He could feel the presence of death, like cold daggers slicing into his soul, and without looking up he knew that his friend and mentor had found what they were there to find.

“Polinues, don’t…” Leyjen tried to stop Polinues, but he was too late.
Polinues was by their side, looking down at the corpse of the woman who had tried to ensnare Brigale.
The knight was standing by the mouth of the cave, dry heaving, a puddle by his feet that had been his lunch.
Polinues choked on the bile that rushed up his throat, turning away quickly he stumbled to the other side of the cave.

Leyjen stood still over the corpse, bloated and discoloured from the humidity and the heat.
There were few indications, except the general shape, that she had ever been human.
Kneeling down Leyjen whispered a quiet prayer, blessing the poor girl, a quiet voice whispering in his mind that she had been with child.
Leyjen heard Polinues sob, as Leyjen whispered another prayer to Darangere for the unborn child.

“We have to go back. We have to let the villagers know about her. The sheriff and Lord Marines. They need to get her out of here, and bury her.” Leyjen said, as he carefully lifted the woman’s shawl and cloak to try and find some identifying mark.
A chain of gold glinted on her neck, and with trembling fingers Leyjen lifted a pendant from her body.
With a quick snap Leyjen broke the chain apart to get the pendant free, and wiping it clean on his trousers he sighed.

“This is Lenoraley. Knight Chenoth’s daughter. Your father told me when we arrived that she’s been missing for a fortnight or so.”

“How do you know it’s her? That does not look human… how can you tell?” Brigale’s voice was shaking as he pointed at the corpse and Leyjen’s amber eyes stared into his soul.

“It’s their crest.” Leyjen said quietly, lifting the golden pendant up for the knight to see, the boys recognizing it as the woman’s naming medallion.

Leyjen led the boys back out of the caves, Lenoraley’s pendant secured on one of his own necklaces, and in silence they swam to the bank, dressed and walked through the forest, taking the quickest route to the castle.

Leyjen brought Lord Marines the news, and the boys hid away in a small antechamber off the front entry until evening, while Leyjen lead the search party to the caves.
It was after sundown when Leyjen returned to find them, telling Polinues it was time to leave.

Leyjen’s farewell to Brigale was cold and short, but Polinues stood with the knight for long minutes on the front steps, holding him close, his hands shaking on the knight’s back.

“You should get peace now. They will get a decent burial soon, and should leave you be.” Polinues whispered in his ear, trying his damndest to control the shivers that ran through his body.
Brigale squeezed him back, and answered,
“Thank you, brother. I knew I could count on you. Remember though. This is our secret.”

Polinues was unusually quiet in the carriage as they drove through the night, and Leyjen was surprised to find himself alone in his bed at the inn the following morning. An hour before they reached the Temples Leyjen broke the silence between them, and raising his head from his book asked,
“Did you know about the body being in the caves?”

Polinues’ grey eye went round for a moment, and he shook his head hard.
“No. We didn’t know about it. How can you ask that?”

“So, Brigale didn’t have anything to do with her death?”

“No. For fuck’s sake, Leyjen. How can you even think that? Brigale had no idea, and neither did I.”

Leyjen made a soft sound of agreement, and let the matter drop. He did not ask about it again, but instead he kept a close eye on the two friends whenever Brigale came to visit at the Temples, or when he went to the Castle.