Swan Prince
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
4,890
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
11
Views:
4,890
Reviews:
15
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Chapter 9
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed! It means a lot to me! -Del
**
The Swan Prince
By: Delilah deSora
Chapter 9
**
Odel stirred, his hands clutching at the tattered remains of what must have once been a blanket. He stared at the faded fabric, trying to make out the patterns that had once been stitched into it while his body began to sort itself out. His legs and lower back hurt, as they always did when Atol did not try to keep his passions in check, but the rest of his back did not.
With shaking fingers he reached around, gasping when his fingers encountered only smooth skin. Sitting up he twisted and, from what little he could see, discovered that the marks had indeed vanished. With a sigh of relief he glanced around, cocking his head at the strangeness of his surroundings.
The bed he lay upon had once been a magnificent creation, as had the room itself must have been, but years of neglect had faded its beauty. Curtains made of fine gauze hung in tatters and the blankets he slept upon were torn and eaten away by time. Cobwebs hung on the walls and the floor was littered with leaves. When he rose from the bed and forced open a set of drawers he found them empty.
Dry leaves pricked the bottom of his feet as he moved out into the hall, finding the same neglect whereve wen went. Windows were dark with dirt or left open to let the elements in. Despite the degradation that plagued its rooms Odel could see that someone had once taken great pride in the manor for, under the soil of years, he could still see find carvings or the hint of once brilliant color. The wood of the floors and walls were not rotted and, when he leaned out an open window, he saw that the stone that made up the outside walls was sound and free of cracks.
When he came across the library he was frozen with shock, so surprised was he to see a place free of the neglect of the rest of the manor. Here the rugs were still brightly colored and free of tatters. The shelves and great table gleamed as though they’d just been polished and in the hearth a fire burned. Judging from the state of the logs Odel suspected it had just been lit though this room was also free of the chill of the rest of manor.
There were a great many books and Odel stared at them wide eyed. There were even more than in the library at the Loharan palace. Odel touched one book reverently aware that riches beyond comparrrourrounded him. Many of the titles he found he could not read for they were made up of a strange script that looked nothing like any alphabet he’d ever been exposed to. He puzzled over them until he came across a thick tome that bore a symbol he did recognize and with a gasp he snatched his hand back suddenly aware that the books he’d been touching with such impudence contained the knowledge of druids and others.
He sat near the fire, folding his hands in his lap as he stared about with wide eyes. He imagined he could feel the weight of the knowledge stored in this place and it made him feel terribly young and foolish.
When a figure appeared in the doorway some time later he stood, an apology on his lips before he realized that it was not Atol who hurried towards him but his own Prince. He stood quietly as Kent fussed, turning him this way and that his sharp eyes looking for even the smallest hurt. He gave no indication of being aware of what Atol had done to his back and Odel kept his peace, knowing it would only anger Kent.
Finally Kent seemed satisfied and he bowed his head at the reproach he saw in his companion’s grey eyes. Kent made a halfhearted attempt at berating him for his foolishness in coming but he seemed distracted by something for he cut his lecture short and Odel found himself ushered from the library. Perhaps, Odel mused, it is the books that bother him.
It wasn’t until they were down the grand staircase and near the front door that Odel was forced to point out his state of undress. Atol had not left his clothes with him and indeed he rather doubted that they were in a fit enough state to be worn again anyway. Together they searched through side rooms for something to cover him until Odel discovered an old cloak in a forgotten closet. There were no other cloths to be found and time was running short, forcing them to make do with that.
The sky was already taking on a grey cast as they fled through the woods. Odel tried to remember the way but found he could recognize nothing from their previous trek to the lake. Kent explained that the way was always different. It was more of walking until the lake wished to be found by you than you finding the lake itself. Odel found it confusing but did not let it trouble him. Twigs and rocks tore into his bare feet but he bit his lip, forcing himself to run on until the pain became too great. Without a word Kent lifted him up, carrying him swiftly through the morning mist.
They had a bit of trouble slipping unseen into the castle for the servants were already up and the guard was fresh from a night’s rest. Somehow they managed and by the time the sun spilled over the horizon Odel was happily scrubbing the dirt from under his nails and washing the leaves from his hair. When he finished with his bathing he found that Kent was already asleep. With a soft smile he brushed a kiss over his prince’s forehead before retiring to his own room.
Gathering the old cloak, Odel stuffed it under the mattress of his bed for safe keeping until he could return it to its rightful owner. With a great yawn he buried himself under the warm covers and let sleep overtake him.
**
It was a wet dream that woke Odel shortly before the midday meal and he flushed in embarrassment when he peeled back the cover dis discover that he’d spilled himself in his sleep. He tried his best to clean the mess before the servants realized he was awake and descended upon him, inquiring about his and the Prince’s health for it was unusual for them to sleep so late. He created a lie that they had both been up late learning the celestial bodies of the night sky and it seemed to satisfy their worries.
As he dressed he listened to the two servants speak with each other and it was through them he learned that the King had returned unexpectedly that mog. Fg. For some reason that knowledge made his heart beat faster and he excused himself to wake the Prince, a duty the servants were more than happy to leave to him.
They had just settled down to eat when a firm knock announced Ryhan’s arrival. Kent offered him a place at the table, which he gratefully accepted. He looked as though he’d ridden all night, which, as it turned out, he had. He explained that a messenger had arrived, one that brought a message that had sent the king, and consequently his retinue, flying back to the capital.
Ryhan did not explain what that message was, even when Kent pressed him to reveal it. He did, however, warn that they would be returning while the weather remained unseasonably pleasant and that the king wished his son’s presence on the return visit. Odel’s presence would not be required.
After a halfhearted attempt to make sure they were not neglecting what studies he had left them with Ryhan took his leave. Kent was unusually restless and, after circling the room looking for something to catch his attention he claimed a desire to seek solace outdoors. Odel did not comment on the strangeness of his decision, for his Prince more often preferred to find his entertainment indoors, and followed quietly to the little bridge where they sat together, bare feet barely skimming the surface of the cold water.
Finally Kent sighed and spoke the troubles of his mind.
“Everyday I wish more and tha that you had taken your brother’s offer of freedom.”
Odel shook his head. “I could not do that, my Prince.”
“I know.” Kent was silent for a long time, watching something that only his eyes could see. “It brings joy to my heart to have you here, Odel, but I am afraid. I can see no happiness for you here.”
Reaching up Odel placed his hands over those chedched in Kent’s lap. “You are my happiness.” He whispered.
Kent shifted, lifting a hand so that Odel’s smaller one was clasped between his. “I cannot imagine life without you but I would give it all to know you are safe. Every day brings us closer to war. My father becomes a bit more erratic with every messenger that hints that he is losing control of the north. It isn’t just your homeland anymore; it is all of the northern kingdoms. They will use the winter to amass their armies while the roads are closed and our spies either cannot reach their castles or cannot bring word back to us.
“There are at least two other kingdoms in the east and west that are splitting their loyalties between us and them. They declare that they support the Loharan crown but secretly they send resources to your father. The southern kingdoms are watching all this with keen eyes, waiting for the moment we falter so that they can declare their own freedom. If we win they will sing our praises, if we lose they will strike at our vulnerable backs and take what land they can before the northern kingdoms seize it.”
Odel kept his silence for there was nothing for him to say.
Kent sighed heavily. “I have begged my father to listen to the northern kingdoms’ demands, begged him to find some common ground to avoid this, for no good will come of a betwbetween us but he refuses. He is blinded by the fabled glory of our ancestors. He would rather see us destroyed then bend to them in the slightest. He forgets that it is fellow kings he speaks with and treats them as serfs, bound to lands that our forefathers laid claim to.
“And . . . he forgets that you are a prince and should be given the same courtesies as he would demand of me if I were in your place. He thinks you some pawn, to be discarded if he wishes. It is that, above all else, that I fear.”
Kent’s hands tightened about his and Odel leaned into him, resting his head upon his shoulder. “And what of you, my Prince? It seems to me that he forgets that you are more than just another of his servants, running to do his bidding. He seems to forget that, in courting war between us all, that he places you in danger. He forgets that he holds this kingdom in trust for the day when you will become King, as you will hold it in trust for your sons.
“It is not only I who is in danger.” He mused, turning his head to press a kiss to the curve of his Prince’s neck.
Kent reached up and lightly stroked his hair, a humorless laugh escaping him. “Maybe we should both escape. Run from the darkness that threatens this place.”
Odel smiled. “And what would we do, you and I?”
Kent shrugged. “I do not know. Search for happiness perhaps?”
“My happiness is with you.” Odel reminded him. “We’ll make it through the dark future you see as long as we are together.”
Kent mirrored his smile, taking his face in his hands. “You sound like one of those poetry books Ryhan makes us read.”
Odel laughed softly. “They are good for something, are they not?”
Kent’s smile turned melancholic. “I suppose they are.” He brushed the back of his hand across his companion’s cheek. “I really do wish we could leave here,” he whispered, his voice turning ragged, “I wish we could leave this cursed place behind us and never look back. I know I have a duty to my people but . . . but I don’t think I’ll ever find true happiness here. You are the only light in my life but I feel the weight of this kingdom on my shoulders mond mnd more each day and sometimes it becomes difficult to see even your bright light.
“It’s funny, really, even as a child I must have felt it for I can remember screaming and clawing at the servants who would try to force me to sit at my father’s side when I was very young. I would cry and try to climb out of the throne and even my father’s threats couldn’t quiet me. At night I would take my diadems and throw them out the windows or hide them in the forest when I was allowed out to play. I hated them as I hated my father; as I hated the life I had been born to.
“I began to think that I had just been a foolish spoiled child when I was a bit older and the anger disappeared. Now . . . now I am not so sure. Seeing the future is not a skill I possess but maybe, somehow, a part of me when I was that child knew that things would turn dark; that I would find no happiness on a solitary throne and with a golden crown.”
Odel shook his head. “I do not know what to say to that, my Prince. I always knew that I was not meant for a throne. A middle son does not inherit and my brothers were better suited for it than I. Still, I was happy with that. I do not think I could live the life of a king. I think, sometimes, I would be just as happy being a tinker’s son, though I would be sad for the loss of you.”
“Do you remember,” Kent asked suddenly, “when we sat here watching the swans? When we . . .” he fell silent but Odel knew of what he was speaking. Lifting his face he met Kent’s movement, their lips touching gently. There was no desperate heat, no demanding tongue or possessive instinct. It was just a soft meeting of lips that made Odel feel a different kind of warmth within his chest.
With a broken sound Kent’s head fell away, his forehead resting on his companion’s shoulder, his face lost in the fall of pale hair. Odel’s arms wrapped about him, simply holding him.
“I would give my entire kingdom, my whole life to have what those simple creatures had.” Kent whispered. “We think we are better than animals for we build and possess things but, in the end, I think it is they who have the better lives. I would give everything to have the freedom those birds possessed, to be able to feel the wind under my wings and to return the love of another without always worrying of the consequences.”
“I love you.” Kent whispered after a long silence. “I have always loved you, though I could never say the words.”
“I know.” Odel replied, “I have always known. You say it every day in a thousand different ways. I have felt it in the touch of your hand and I have seen it in when you look up from whatever has held your attention and search for meh frh frantic eyes as though to remind yourself that I am still there. I have known and it has always made my spirit sing. You will ever hold my heart, my love.”
Kent’s breath was ragged against his neck and Odel closed his eyes against the sudden pain in his chest, his arms tightening about the man in his arms as they clung to each other in the fading light.
**
A few clumsy kisses and a moment of stolen passion in darkness so thick that they could barely see each other as they played out their unspoken promises to one with their bodies was all they were allowed. With the sun came the reminder of responsibilities and of the fate others had written for them before they had even come into the world.
So it was that, before Odel could even reveal what has occurred during his encounter with Atol to Kent, he was forced to put on a cheerful face and bid his Prince farewell the morning after.
Odel felt his prince’s loss even more acutely this time than any time before and, after he was gone, Odel returned not to his bed but to the bed they had shared that night, for the mingled scents of their bodies comforted him. When he closed his eyes he could feel his Prince’s first tentative touches, as though he feared if he pushed too hard or moved too quickly he would break his lover or it would all disappear like some elusive dream. Odel had remained pliant, letting Kent find his own pace though at times his body burned for more. In the end it had not mattered for Kent managed to touch that something deep within him that made him feel golden happiness. For the few hours that had been granted to them he had felt loved and the tears that had slipped from his eyes were the tears of a person who has found what they had been searching for all their lives.
For a few precious hours Kent’s presence at his side had taught him what it truly meant to be content.
Unfortunately he could not hold on to that comfort forever for with the first changing of the bedding and it was gone and he was forced to take what small comfort he could in the familiar surroundings.
With both Ryhan and Kent gone Odel kept to the rooms for the first few days, unsure of where he was allowed to go or what form of watch had been left behind to make sure he did not try to return home. He amused himself by going over children’s books, relearning tales from his youth and studying drawings of the fantastic creatures that populated the tales. One night he placed a dish of milk upon the balcony, feeling a bit foolish as he did. Come morning the milk was gone, as it was every other morning when he refilled the dish before retiring to bed.
The days became a week and, as the temperature rose, Odel found he could not longer abide being cooped up within the familiar walls. He went down into the garden, at first staying close to the palace but slowly moving farther and farther out among the sleeping flowers and cropped bushes. The guards watched him but, as long as he did not venture too close to the forest’s edge, they were content to go about their duty and leave him be.
He did not know if it was the invisible marks Atad pad placed upon his back or the fact that his eyes had been opened by helping heal the creatures at the sorcerer’s side but Odel discovered that the forest’s creatures were all around him. Sometimes it was nothing more than the sound of something slipping away in the dead grass or the flash of wings just beyond his sight, little things that he would normally have dismissed. Other times, however, they would appear before him, studying him with their not-quite human eyes as he sat on the pond’s edge or watched the wind play among the bare branches of the trees. They seemed as curious about him as he was of them, though none would dare come within reach.
He began to receive little presents as well. Every morning when he stepped out onto the balcony there would be something lying by the dish. A rock or a feather or a bit of gaily-colored string. Once morning there was even a coin, tarnished with age and bearing marks that he could not understand.
All these things he put away carefully in a small box that he kept near his bed.
One week turned into two and boredom began to set in. His walks in the garden became ventures into other parts of the castle grounds. Everyone gave him a wide berth, bowing their heads in acknowledgement but never coming too close to him for they all knew who he was. It did little to alleviate the loneliness that began to pervade through him but he contented himself with watching them go about their daily lives.
The third week of the Loharan royals’ absence arrived and the day was marked by bright sun and a warmth that lifted everyone’s spirits. Odel dug out one of his summer shirts and wrapped up a small lunch before making the long trek down to the fields where he’d seen men drive a herd of horses the day before. He settled himself on a nearby slope, watching as young boys milled among their charges, sometimes shouting out to one another.
He had closed his eyes, smiling to himself as the sun seemed to envelope him in its warm embrace, its rays reminding him of Kent’s soft touches while they heavy weight of its warmth reminded him of Atol’s enveloping hold, when a shrill scream made him jump and stare down at the field before him. A couple of the boys shouted warnings as the herd bolted, leaving only a single stallion to face off against another. The sun glittered off the stallion’s black back as it reared, kicking at another horse.
One daring boy moved between them, beating the black off with a switch. Odel saw a flash of yellowed teeth before the stallion turned, its tale swishing in anger as the other horse slunk away. A second boy tried to grab for the brown horse but it whirled, trying to stomp down upon the boy and only a quick tumble backwards saved the boy’s life. With a shriek of rage the brown turned, trotting off on its own. The boys cursed at the brown before running off to follow the herd.
Frowning at the strangeness of what had occurred, Odel gathered the cloth he’d used to tie up his lunch and made his way back to the castle.
He couldn’t seem to shake off the memory of that afternoon and the next day he went back to the field. To his surprise the brown stallion, for, in a display that made him flush in discomfort, he could quite clearly see that the horse was indeed a male, was circling in a small area fenced off from the rest of the field. The horse whirled at the sound of his approach, tossing his head and prancing in a way that made Odel frown.
There was no one about but the horse continued to jerk, turning first this way and then that as though he couldn’t stop moving. Worried that something was wrong Odel approached him slowly, looking for the source of his discomfort. He recalled the way the stallion had struck out at the boy the day before and was wary of any action that indicated the horse was about to lunge for him.
He was nearly to the fence when he noticed the blood at the corners of the horse’s mouth. Before he could stop himself he reached out, making soft sounds to soothe the creature. His hands touched the soft muzzle and the stallion stilled, tring ing under his hands.
“It’s all right.” Odel whispered, urging him closer.
The stallion’s head drooped and Odel could hear its breath coming hard, as though it had run a great distance. Gently stroking the creature’s neck his eyes moved downwards and he frowned when he noticed that all four of the stallion’s ankles were swollen.
“What has happened to you?” He wondered aloud, kneeling so that he could better inspect the hurt. The area was hot to the touch but he could find no evidence of wounds anywhere. With a sigh of confusion he looked up, turning the stallion’s head so that he could see the bloodied areas at the corners of his mouth.
Here he could see wounds and his frown deepened for they looked like burns. Before he could coax the stallion’s mouth open there was a shout and the stallion reared back, shrieking in sudden rage. Hands grabbed him and Odel cried out in pain as he was forcibly dragged back.
“Twice damn ye for a fool!” The man behind him snarled as a boy with a switch beat the stallion back until it danced about in the farthest corner of its yard, screaming at them.
“Andre!” A younger man hissed and Odel noticed that his eyes flickered from him to the older man.
The man holding him, Andre, hesitated a moment before releasing him. It was the younger man who helped him to his feet and Odel thanked him.
“You’ll have to forgive him, lord,” the younger man said, smoothing his palms nervously against his pants, “You just gave us all a fright there for a moment.”
Odel straightened his shirt. “I was fine until you boy startled him, the horse I mean.”
Andre laughed harshly but at a sharp glance from the younger man he fell silent, stalking towards the boy to snatch the switch from him.
“You shouldn’t be here, lord,” The man said, turning his attention to the stallion, “This horse isn’t fit for anyone to be around.”
“What happened to him?” Odel asked.
“Mad as a . . .”
“Andre!” The young man snapped, interrupting the older man’s words, “Take Reese back to the stables. I’m sure Avery needs help.”
Andre spat upon the ground but did as he was told.
Odel turned his attention back to the man at his side. “He isn’t mad. He’s hurt.” He insisted.
The man sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. Can’t figure out how or what’s wrong with him though. He was perfectly healthy when they brought him in the other day.”
“Where did he come from?” Odel asked.
“A couple of days to the west. A few of the boys bringing back some mares from Leavyn horse fair saw him at the riverside. He gave them quite a chase but they’ve been catching horses for years.”
Odel’s frown return. “He’s wild then?”
The man nodded. “Not too many wild horses left but occasionally we find them. Especially young stallions like this one here. Their herd leaders drive them out when they get old enough to live on their own. We had high hopes for this one but the other horses won’t go near him and then his ankles started swelling up like that. Soon as that happened he began getting jittery, like he can’t stand still, you know? I’ve had every healer both human healers and animal healers to check him over but none know what’s wrong with him. Then this morning we got the bit in his mouth and he started bleeding and his tongue swelled up too. He’s a nasty one but after that he went positively wild. Can’t for the life of me figure it out.”
“What will you do with him?” Odel asked, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth.
The man shrugged. “Who knows? We’re hoping he gets better but to be honest I doubt he will. We’ll probably have to put him down, if only to keep him from infecting the other horses with whatever wild sickness he’s got.”
“No!” Odel gasped, staring up at the man in horror.
The man shrugged again. “It’s a pity, lord, but we have to think of the other horses. Any rate he’ll have a few days to get better, if he doesn’t . . .” The man shrugged a third time, letting his final words remain unvoiced.
With a sudden deep breath the man turned. “I know I don’t have any right telling you what to do, lord, but I must insist you don’t go near him. He’s pretty to look at but he’s vicious and we haven’t broken him in yet. Besides, I’d hate to be the one to have to tell the Prince whappeappened to you.”
Odel nodded. “I will remember. Would you mind if I just staid a bit longer? Just to eat and enjoy the day a bit. I won’t try to touch him again.”
The man nodded. “As you like. You best be in by nightfall though. The animals are antsy which means a storm is on its way. I suspect this will be the last warm day we have until spring.”
Odel watched him make his way back down to the hill to the valley where he could see the boys following the herd as it moved up a small stream. With a sigh he sat down, drawing his knees to his chest. To his surprise the stallion quieted and crept towards him. It lowered its head over the fence and, with a quick glance to make sure no one saw, Odel reached out to touch his nose. The horse trembled at his touch and he felt tears prick his eyes at the pain he could see in the dark eyes.
“It’s sad, what’s happened to you. They should have left you alone. You belonged in the wild, not stuck behind some fence.” Odel murmured, taking a moment to untie the cloth and find the apple he’d stored there.
He held the fruit out but the horse turned away from the offering and Odel let it fall away with a sigh. “I wish I knew what was wrong with you. I wish I understood what caused you this pain.”
There was a hiss as something moved over the grass by his side and Odel gasped as a serpentine figure rose up over the yellowed stalks of weed-grass. The lamia stared at him with annoyed eyes, her forked tongue flickering over her lips before she spoke.
“Don’t you know? Can’t you see what hurts him?” She asked, her words slurred as she struggled to speak through pointed fangs.
Odel calmed trying not to stare at her beautifully patterned scales. “No. I couldn’t find anything.”
The lamia hissed, her face contorting in a parody of annoyance. “They said humans were stupid but after meeting the streymansch I did not believe them. I see that, perhaps, I was wrong.”
Odel chewed his lip. “What’s a streymansch?”
The lamia snorted. “The human with the magic, stupid one. Neither of your world or mine but of both.”
“Oh.” Odel fell silent, turning his attention back to the horse. “I am sorry but I can see nothing wrong. It looks like something burned his mouth but I see no such marks on his hooves. Maybe I cannot see what is wrong because I am not used to studying horses.”
The tip of the lamia’s tail flickered as she rubbed her stomach where there should have been a scar. “Who said he was a horse?”
Odel blinked in surprise but before he could ask the lamia was gone. Slowly he turned his attention back to the creature in front of him. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out and his trembling had increased. The movement of the lamia stroking her stomach flickered through his memory and he sat back with a gasp.
Crawling forward he caught the horse’s front leg and lifted it up. There, held in with iron pins, was the carefully shaped shoe. It was nestled in a strange crevice and when Odel touched the hoof around the shoe it seemed to crumble, leaving a brownish powder on his fingertips.
There was a laugh from behind him and he turned just as the lamia dropped something wrapped in a piece of cloth at his side. “Stupid human.” She said, though her eyes held a bit of amusement as she slithered away.
Odel released the stallion’s leg and pried open the cloth. Within lie a metal tool and he held it gingerly. Glancing over at the other field he paused, trying to determine what to do next. “If I just take the shoes off they’re bound to put them back on again,” he murmured to himself, “Assuming tdon’don’t catch me in the act of doing it.” He smiled at the stallion sheepishly. “I’ve never taken shoes off a horse before. It may take awhile.”
The stallion lifted its head and stomped, glancing at the field. Odel saw movement out of the corner of his eye and stood, hiding the tool within the basket. A pair of men were watching him under the guise of ng ang a fence that Odel could see was perfectly fine. With a sigh he realized that he would get no work done that day.
“I will find you tonight,” he whispered, causing the horse’s ears to pivot towards him.
Gathering the remains of his lunch he moved back up over the hill and retreated back to the stone walls of the castle
**
The Swan Prince
By: Delilah deSora
Chapter 9
**
Odel stirred, his hands clutching at the tattered remains of what must have once been a blanket. He stared at the faded fabric, trying to make out the patterns that had once been stitched into it while his body began to sort itself out. His legs and lower back hurt, as they always did when Atol did not try to keep his passions in check, but the rest of his back did not.
With shaking fingers he reached around, gasping when his fingers encountered only smooth skin. Sitting up he twisted and, from what little he could see, discovered that the marks had indeed vanished. With a sigh of relief he glanced around, cocking his head at the strangeness of his surroundings.
The bed he lay upon had once been a magnificent creation, as had the room itself must have been, but years of neglect had faded its beauty. Curtains made of fine gauze hung in tatters and the blankets he slept upon were torn and eaten away by time. Cobwebs hung on the walls and the floor was littered with leaves. When he rose from the bed and forced open a set of drawers he found them empty.
Dry leaves pricked the bottom of his feet as he moved out into the hall, finding the same neglect whereve wen went. Windows were dark with dirt or left open to let the elements in. Despite the degradation that plagued its rooms Odel could see that someone had once taken great pride in the manor for, under the soil of years, he could still see find carvings or the hint of once brilliant color. The wood of the floors and walls were not rotted and, when he leaned out an open window, he saw that the stone that made up the outside walls was sound and free of cracks.
When he came across the library he was frozen with shock, so surprised was he to see a place free of the neglect of the rest of the manor. Here the rugs were still brightly colored and free of tatters. The shelves and great table gleamed as though they’d just been polished and in the hearth a fire burned. Judging from the state of the logs Odel suspected it had just been lit though this room was also free of the chill of the rest of manor.
There were a great many books and Odel stared at them wide eyed. There were even more than in the library at the Loharan palace. Odel touched one book reverently aware that riches beyond comparrrourrounded him. Many of the titles he found he could not read for they were made up of a strange script that looked nothing like any alphabet he’d ever been exposed to. He puzzled over them until he came across a thick tome that bore a symbol he did recognize and with a gasp he snatched his hand back suddenly aware that the books he’d been touching with such impudence contained the knowledge of druids and others.
He sat near the fire, folding his hands in his lap as he stared about with wide eyes. He imagined he could feel the weight of the knowledge stored in this place and it made him feel terribly young and foolish.
When a figure appeared in the doorway some time later he stood, an apology on his lips before he realized that it was not Atol who hurried towards him but his own Prince. He stood quietly as Kent fussed, turning him this way and that his sharp eyes looking for even the smallest hurt. He gave no indication of being aware of what Atol had done to his back and Odel kept his peace, knowing it would only anger Kent.
Finally Kent seemed satisfied and he bowed his head at the reproach he saw in his companion’s grey eyes. Kent made a halfhearted attempt at berating him for his foolishness in coming but he seemed distracted by something for he cut his lecture short and Odel found himself ushered from the library. Perhaps, Odel mused, it is the books that bother him.
It wasn’t until they were down the grand staircase and near the front door that Odel was forced to point out his state of undress. Atol had not left his clothes with him and indeed he rather doubted that they were in a fit enough state to be worn again anyway. Together they searched through side rooms for something to cover him until Odel discovered an old cloak in a forgotten closet. There were no other cloths to be found and time was running short, forcing them to make do with that.
The sky was already taking on a grey cast as they fled through the woods. Odel tried to remember the way but found he could recognize nothing from their previous trek to the lake. Kent explained that the way was always different. It was more of walking until the lake wished to be found by you than you finding the lake itself. Odel found it confusing but did not let it trouble him. Twigs and rocks tore into his bare feet but he bit his lip, forcing himself to run on until the pain became too great. Without a word Kent lifted him up, carrying him swiftly through the morning mist.
They had a bit of trouble slipping unseen into the castle for the servants were already up and the guard was fresh from a night’s rest. Somehow they managed and by the time the sun spilled over the horizon Odel was happily scrubbing the dirt from under his nails and washing the leaves from his hair. When he finished with his bathing he found that Kent was already asleep. With a soft smile he brushed a kiss over his prince’s forehead before retiring to his own room.
Gathering the old cloak, Odel stuffed it under the mattress of his bed for safe keeping until he could return it to its rightful owner. With a great yawn he buried himself under the warm covers and let sleep overtake him.
**
It was a wet dream that woke Odel shortly before the midday meal and he flushed in embarrassment when he peeled back the cover dis discover that he’d spilled himself in his sleep. He tried his best to clean the mess before the servants realized he was awake and descended upon him, inquiring about his and the Prince’s health for it was unusual for them to sleep so late. He created a lie that they had both been up late learning the celestial bodies of the night sky and it seemed to satisfy their worries.
As he dressed he listened to the two servants speak with each other and it was through them he learned that the King had returned unexpectedly that mog. Fg. For some reason that knowledge made his heart beat faster and he excused himself to wake the Prince, a duty the servants were more than happy to leave to him.
They had just settled down to eat when a firm knock announced Ryhan’s arrival. Kent offered him a place at the table, which he gratefully accepted. He looked as though he’d ridden all night, which, as it turned out, he had. He explained that a messenger had arrived, one that brought a message that had sent the king, and consequently his retinue, flying back to the capital.
Ryhan did not explain what that message was, even when Kent pressed him to reveal it. He did, however, warn that they would be returning while the weather remained unseasonably pleasant and that the king wished his son’s presence on the return visit. Odel’s presence would not be required.
After a halfhearted attempt to make sure they were not neglecting what studies he had left them with Ryhan took his leave. Kent was unusually restless and, after circling the room looking for something to catch his attention he claimed a desire to seek solace outdoors. Odel did not comment on the strangeness of his decision, for his Prince more often preferred to find his entertainment indoors, and followed quietly to the little bridge where they sat together, bare feet barely skimming the surface of the cold water.
Finally Kent sighed and spoke the troubles of his mind.
“Everyday I wish more and tha that you had taken your brother’s offer of freedom.”
Odel shook his head. “I could not do that, my Prince.”
“I know.” Kent was silent for a long time, watching something that only his eyes could see. “It brings joy to my heart to have you here, Odel, but I am afraid. I can see no happiness for you here.”
Reaching up Odel placed his hands over those chedched in Kent’s lap. “You are my happiness.” He whispered.
Kent shifted, lifting a hand so that Odel’s smaller one was clasped between his. “I cannot imagine life without you but I would give it all to know you are safe. Every day brings us closer to war. My father becomes a bit more erratic with every messenger that hints that he is losing control of the north. It isn’t just your homeland anymore; it is all of the northern kingdoms. They will use the winter to amass their armies while the roads are closed and our spies either cannot reach their castles or cannot bring word back to us.
“There are at least two other kingdoms in the east and west that are splitting their loyalties between us and them. They declare that they support the Loharan crown but secretly they send resources to your father. The southern kingdoms are watching all this with keen eyes, waiting for the moment we falter so that they can declare their own freedom. If we win they will sing our praises, if we lose they will strike at our vulnerable backs and take what land they can before the northern kingdoms seize it.”
Odel kept his silence for there was nothing for him to say.
Kent sighed heavily. “I have begged my father to listen to the northern kingdoms’ demands, begged him to find some common ground to avoid this, for no good will come of a betwbetween us but he refuses. He is blinded by the fabled glory of our ancestors. He would rather see us destroyed then bend to them in the slightest. He forgets that it is fellow kings he speaks with and treats them as serfs, bound to lands that our forefathers laid claim to.
“And . . . he forgets that you are a prince and should be given the same courtesies as he would demand of me if I were in your place. He thinks you some pawn, to be discarded if he wishes. It is that, above all else, that I fear.”
Kent’s hands tightened about his and Odel leaned into him, resting his head upon his shoulder. “And what of you, my Prince? It seems to me that he forgets that you are more than just another of his servants, running to do his bidding. He seems to forget that, in courting war between us all, that he places you in danger. He forgets that he holds this kingdom in trust for the day when you will become King, as you will hold it in trust for your sons.
“It is not only I who is in danger.” He mused, turning his head to press a kiss to the curve of his Prince’s neck.
Kent reached up and lightly stroked his hair, a humorless laugh escaping him. “Maybe we should both escape. Run from the darkness that threatens this place.”
Odel smiled. “And what would we do, you and I?”
Kent shrugged. “I do not know. Search for happiness perhaps?”
“My happiness is with you.” Odel reminded him. “We’ll make it through the dark future you see as long as we are together.”
Kent mirrored his smile, taking his face in his hands. “You sound like one of those poetry books Ryhan makes us read.”
Odel laughed softly. “They are good for something, are they not?”
Kent’s smile turned melancholic. “I suppose they are.” He brushed the back of his hand across his companion’s cheek. “I really do wish we could leave here,” he whispered, his voice turning ragged, “I wish we could leave this cursed place behind us and never look back. I know I have a duty to my people but . . . but I don’t think I’ll ever find true happiness here. You are the only light in my life but I feel the weight of this kingdom on my shoulders mond mnd more each day and sometimes it becomes difficult to see even your bright light.
“It’s funny, really, even as a child I must have felt it for I can remember screaming and clawing at the servants who would try to force me to sit at my father’s side when I was very young. I would cry and try to climb out of the throne and even my father’s threats couldn’t quiet me. At night I would take my diadems and throw them out the windows or hide them in the forest when I was allowed out to play. I hated them as I hated my father; as I hated the life I had been born to.
“I began to think that I had just been a foolish spoiled child when I was a bit older and the anger disappeared. Now . . . now I am not so sure. Seeing the future is not a skill I possess but maybe, somehow, a part of me when I was that child knew that things would turn dark; that I would find no happiness on a solitary throne and with a golden crown.”
Odel shook his head. “I do not know what to say to that, my Prince. I always knew that I was not meant for a throne. A middle son does not inherit and my brothers were better suited for it than I. Still, I was happy with that. I do not think I could live the life of a king. I think, sometimes, I would be just as happy being a tinker’s son, though I would be sad for the loss of you.”
“Do you remember,” Kent asked suddenly, “when we sat here watching the swans? When we . . .” he fell silent but Odel knew of what he was speaking. Lifting his face he met Kent’s movement, their lips touching gently. There was no desperate heat, no demanding tongue or possessive instinct. It was just a soft meeting of lips that made Odel feel a different kind of warmth within his chest.
With a broken sound Kent’s head fell away, his forehead resting on his companion’s shoulder, his face lost in the fall of pale hair. Odel’s arms wrapped about him, simply holding him.
“I would give my entire kingdom, my whole life to have what those simple creatures had.” Kent whispered. “We think we are better than animals for we build and possess things but, in the end, I think it is they who have the better lives. I would give everything to have the freedom those birds possessed, to be able to feel the wind under my wings and to return the love of another without always worrying of the consequences.”
“I love you.” Kent whispered after a long silence. “I have always loved you, though I could never say the words.”
“I know.” Odel replied, “I have always known. You say it every day in a thousand different ways. I have felt it in the touch of your hand and I have seen it in when you look up from whatever has held your attention and search for meh frh frantic eyes as though to remind yourself that I am still there. I have known and it has always made my spirit sing. You will ever hold my heart, my love.”
Kent’s breath was ragged against his neck and Odel closed his eyes against the sudden pain in his chest, his arms tightening about the man in his arms as they clung to each other in the fading light.
**
A few clumsy kisses and a moment of stolen passion in darkness so thick that they could barely see each other as they played out their unspoken promises to one with their bodies was all they were allowed. With the sun came the reminder of responsibilities and of the fate others had written for them before they had even come into the world.
So it was that, before Odel could even reveal what has occurred during his encounter with Atol to Kent, he was forced to put on a cheerful face and bid his Prince farewell the morning after.
Odel felt his prince’s loss even more acutely this time than any time before and, after he was gone, Odel returned not to his bed but to the bed they had shared that night, for the mingled scents of their bodies comforted him. When he closed his eyes he could feel his Prince’s first tentative touches, as though he feared if he pushed too hard or moved too quickly he would break his lover or it would all disappear like some elusive dream. Odel had remained pliant, letting Kent find his own pace though at times his body burned for more. In the end it had not mattered for Kent managed to touch that something deep within him that made him feel golden happiness. For the few hours that had been granted to them he had felt loved and the tears that had slipped from his eyes were the tears of a person who has found what they had been searching for all their lives.
For a few precious hours Kent’s presence at his side had taught him what it truly meant to be content.
Unfortunately he could not hold on to that comfort forever for with the first changing of the bedding and it was gone and he was forced to take what small comfort he could in the familiar surroundings.
With both Ryhan and Kent gone Odel kept to the rooms for the first few days, unsure of where he was allowed to go or what form of watch had been left behind to make sure he did not try to return home. He amused himself by going over children’s books, relearning tales from his youth and studying drawings of the fantastic creatures that populated the tales. One night he placed a dish of milk upon the balcony, feeling a bit foolish as he did. Come morning the milk was gone, as it was every other morning when he refilled the dish before retiring to bed.
The days became a week and, as the temperature rose, Odel found he could not longer abide being cooped up within the familiar walls. He went down into the garden, at first staying close to the palace but slowly moving farther and farther out among the sleeping flowers and cropped bushes. The guards watched him but, as long as he did not venture too close to the forest’s edge, they were content to go about their duty and leave him be.
He did not know if it was the invisible marks Atad pad placed upon his back or the fact that his eyes had been opened by helping heal the creatures at the sorcerer’s side but Odel discovered that the forest’s creatures were all around him. Sometimes it was nothing more than the sound of something slipping away in the dead grass or the flash of wings just beyond his sight, little things that he would normally have dismissed. Other times, however, they would appear before him, studying him with their not-quite human eyes as he sat on the pond’s edge or watched the wind play among the bare branches of the trees. They seemed as curious about him as he was of them, though none would dare come within reach.
He began to receive little presents as well. Every morning when he stepped out onto the balcony there would be something lying by the dish. A rock or a feather or a bit of gaily-colored string. Once morning there was even a coin, tarnished with age and bearing marks that he could not understand.
All these things he put away carefully in a small box that he kept near his bed.
One week turned into two and boredom began to set in. His walks in the garden became ventures into other parts of the castle grounds. Everyone gave him a wide berth, bowing their heads in acknowledgement but never coming too close to him for they all knew who he was. It did little to alleviate the loneliness that began to pervade through him but he contented himself with watching them go about their daily lives.
The third week of the Loharan royals’ absence arrived and the day was marked by bright sun and a warmth that lifted everyone’s spirits. Odel dug out one of his summer shirts and wrapped up a small lunch before making the long trek down to the fields where he’d seen men drive a herd of horses the day before. He settled himself on a nearby slope, watching as young boys milled among their charges, sometimes shouting out to one another.
He had closed his eyes, smiling to himself as the sun seemed to envelope him in its warm embrace, its rays reminding him of Kent’s soft touches while they heavy weight of its warmth reminded him of Atol’s enveloping hold, when a shrill scream made him jump and stare down at the field before him. A couple of the boys shouted warnings as the herd bolted, leaving only a single stallion to face off against another. The sun glittered off the stallion’s black back as it reared, kicking at another horse.
One daring boy moved between them, beating the black off with a switch. Odel saw a flash of yellowed teeth before the stallion turned, its tale swishing in anger as the other horse slunk away. A second boy tried to grab for the brown horse but it whirled, trying to stomp down upon the boy and only a quick tumble backwards saved the boy’s life. With a shriek of rage the brown turned, trotting off on its own. The boys cursed at the brown before running off to follow the herd.
Frowning at the strangeness of what had occurred, Odel gathered the cloth he’d used to tie up his lunch and made his way back to the castle.
He couldn’t seem to shake off the memory of that afternoon and the next day he went back to the field. To his surprise the brown stallion, for, in a display that made him flush in discomfort, he could quite clearly see that the horse was indeed a male, was circling in a small area fenced off from the rest of the field. The horse whirled at the sound of his approach, tossing his head and prancing in a way that made Odel frown.
There was no one about but the horse continued to jerk, turning first this way and then that as though he couldn’t stop moving. Worried that something was wrong Odel approached him slowly, looking for the source of his discomfort. He recalled the way the stallion had struck out at the boy the day before and was wary of any action that indicated the horse was about to lunge for him.
He was nearly to the fence when he noticed the blood at the corners of the horse’s mouth. Before he could stop himself he reached out, making soft sounds to soothe the creature. His hands touched the soft muzzle and the stallion stilled, tring ing under his hands.
“It’s all right.” Odel whispered, urging him closer.
The stallion’s head drooped and Odel could hear its breath coming hard, as though it had run a great distance. Gently stroking the creature’s neck his eyes moved downwards and he frowned when he noticed that all four of the stallion’s ankles were swollen.
“What has happened to you?” He wondered aloud, kneeling so that he could better inspect the hurt. The area was hot to the touch but he could find no evidence of wounds anywhere. With a sigh of confusion he looked up, turning the stallion’s head so that he could see the bloodied areas at the corners of his mouth.
Here he could see wounds and his frown deepened for they looked like burns. Before he could coax the stallion’s mouth open there was a shout and the stallion reared back, shrieking in sudden rage. Hands grabbed him and Odel cried out in pain as he was forcibly dragged back.
“Twice damn ye for a fool!” The man behind him snarled as a boy with a switch beat the stallion back until it danced about in the farthest corner of its yard, screaming at them.
“Andre!” A younger man hissed and Odel noticed that his eyes flickered from him to the older man.
The man holding him, Andre, hesitated a moment before releasing him. It was the younger man who helped him to his feet and Odel thanked him.
“You’ll have to forgive him, lord,” the younger man said, smoothing his palms nervously against his pants, “You just gave us all a fright there for a moment.”
Odel straightened his shirt. “I was fine until you boy startled him, the horse I mean.”
Andre laughed harshly but at a sharp glance from the younger man he fell silent, stalking towards the boy to snatch the switch from him.
“You shouldn’t be here, lord,” The man said, turning his attention to the stallion, “This horse isn’t fit for anyone to be around.”
“What happened to him?” Odel asked.
“Mad as a . . .”
“Andre!” The young man snapped, interrupting the older man’s words, “Take Reese back to the stables. I’m sure Avery needs help.”
Andre spat upon the ground but did as he was told.
Odel turned his attention back to the man at his side. “He isn’t mad. He’s hurt.” He insisted.
The man sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re right. Can’t figure out how or what’s wrong with him though. He was perfectly healthy when they brought him in the other day.”
“Where did he come from?” Odel asked.
“A couple of days to the west. A few of the boys bringing back some mares from Leavyn horse fair saw him at the riverside. He gave them quite a chase but they’ve been catching horses for years.”
Odel’s frown return. “He’s wild then?”
The man nodded. “Not too many wild horses left but occasionally we find them. Especially young stallions like this one here. Their herd leaders drive them out when they get old enough to live on their own. We had high hopes for this one but the other horses won’t go near him and then his ankles started swelling up like that. Soon as that happened he began getting jittery, like he can’t stand still, you know? I’ve had every healer both human healers and animal healers to check him over but none know what’s wrong with him. Then this morning we got the bit in his mouth and he started bleeding and his tongue swelled up too. He’s a nasty one but after that he went positively wild. Can’t for the life of me figure it out.”
“What will you do with him?” Odel asked, worrying his thumbnail between his teeth.
The man shrugged. “Who knows? We’re hoping he gets better but to be honest I doubt he will. We’ll probably have to put him down, if only to keep him from infecting the other horses with whatever wild sickness he’s got.”
“No!” Odel gasped, staring up at the man in horror.
The man shrugged again. “It’s a pity, lord, but we have to think of the other horses. Any rate he’ll have a few days to get better, if he doesn’t . . .” The man shrugged a third time, letting his final words remain unvoiced.
With a sudden deep breath the man turned. “I know I don’t have any right telling you what to do, lord, but I must insist you don’t go near him. He’s pretty to look at but he’s vicious and we haven’t broken him in yet. Besides, I’d hate to be the one to have to tell the Prince whappeappened to you.”
Odel nodded. “I will remember. Would you mind if I just staid a bit longer? Just to eat and enjoy the day a bit. I won’t try to touch him again.”
The man nodded. “As you like. You best be in by nightfall though. The animals are antsy which means a storm is on its way. I suspect this will be the last warm day we have until spring.”
Odel watched him make his way back down to the hill to the valley where he could see the boys following the herd as it moved up a small stream. With a sigh he sat down, drawing his knees to his chest. To his surprise the stallion quieted and crept towards him. It lowered its head over the fence and, with a quick glance to make sure no one saw, Odel reached out to touch his nose. The horse trembled at his touch and he felt tears prick his eyes at the pain he could see in the dark eyes.
“It’s sad, what’s happened to you. They should have left you alone. You belonged in the wild, not stuck behind some fence.” Odel murmured, taking a moment to untie the cloth and find the apple he’d stored there.
He held the fruit out but the horse turned away from the offering and Odel let it fall away with a sigh. “I wish I knew what was wrong with you. I wish I understood what caused you this pain.”
There was a hiss as something moved over the grass by his side and Odel gasped as a serpentine figure rose up over the yellowed stalks of weed-grass. The lamia stared at him with annoyed eyes, her forked tongue flickering over her lips before she spoke.
“Don’t you know? Can’t you see what hurts him?” She asked, her words slurred as she struggled to speak through pointed fangs.
Odel calmed trying not to stare at her beautifully patterned scales. “No. I couldn’t find anything.”
The lamia hissed, her face contorting in a parody of annoyance. “They said humans were stupid but after meeting the streymansch I did not believe them. I see that, perhaps, I was wrong.”
Odel chewed his lip. “What’s a streymansch?”
The lamia snorted. “The human with the magic, stupid one. Neither of your world or mine but of both.”
“Oh.” Odel fell silent, turning his attention back to the horse. “I am sorry but I can see nothing wrong. It looks like something burned his mouth but I see no such marks on his hooves. Maybe I cannot see what is wrong because I am not used to studying horses.”
The tip of the lamia’s tail flickered as she rubbed her stomach where there should have been a scar. “Who said he was a horse?”
Odel blinked in surprise but before he could ask the lamia was gone. Slowly he turned his attention back to the creature in front of him. A fine sheen of sweat had broken out and his trembling had increased. The movement of the lamia stroking her stomach flickered through his memory and he sat back with a gasp.
Crawling forward he caught the horse’s front leg and lifted it up. There, held in with iron pins, was the carefully shaped shoe. It was nestled in a strange crevice and when Odel touched the hoof around the shoe it seemed to crumble, leaving a brownish powder on his fingertips.
There was a laugh from behind him and he turned just as the lamia dropped something wrapped in a piece of cloth at his side. “Stupid human.” She said, though her eyes held a bit of amusement as she slithered away.
Odel released the stallion’s leg and pried open the cloth. Within lie a metal tool and he held it gingerly. Glancing over at the other field he paused, trying to determine what to do next. “If I just take the shoes off they’re bound to put them back on again,” he murmured to himself, “Assuming tdon’don’t catch me in the act of doing it.” He smiled at the stallion sheepishly. “I’ve never taken shoes off a horse before. It may take awhile.”
The stallion lifted its head and stomped, glancing at the field. Odel saw movement out of the corner of his eye and stood, hiding the tool within the basket. A pair of men were watching him under the guise of ng ang a fence that Odel could see was perfectly fine. With a sigh he realized that he would get no work done that day.
“I will find you tonight,” he whispered, causing the horse’s ears to pivot towards him.
Gathering the remains of his lunch he moved back up over the hill and retreated back to the stone walls of the castle