Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (97 page)

The door opened.

A figure garbed in a white cloak came into view.

Immediately, Odin felt a sense of pride a
nd fear well up within him.

“Sir,” he said, voice gnarled within his throat.

The king of the Golden Country merely looked upon him with a look of shock and awe. “Odin?” Ournul asked.

Odin fell before his liege and bowed his head, no longer sure what to expect or consider in a moment where he felt
alone with the world before him.

A hand graced his shoulder.

Odin looked up.

Ournul looked down at him with strength in his eyes Odin had not expected
. “Come in,” the king said. “We have much to discuss.”

He, along with the three guards accompanying him, entered t
he office and positioned themselves along the back of the room after the door was closed by the guards posing sentry. Odin himself was motioned to sit in the chair opposite the desk, while Ournul set his hand on the shoulder of an articulate-looking page boy who sat copying notes before seating himself behind his desk.

“So,” Ournul said, then laced his hands together.

When the king made no further move, Odin fidgeted, suddenly feeling much more vulnerable than he had initially anticipated.

So… what?
he thought, staring into the king’s chocolate-brown eyes.

Did Ournul simply mean for him to respond by saying what he had done over the past few months, or was he waiting for a response to tailor the situation to his own accord, much like a man sewing thread through a torn shirt
?

Ournul placed both hands flat on the table.

The page seated no more than a few feet beside him turned his head up.

Odin acknowledged him briefly, then set his eyes back on Ournul.

“I’m sorry,” Odin said, unable to take the silence any longer.

“For what, my son?”

“For abandoning you and my country.”

“Nova told me that Miko passed some months ago.”

“Yes sir. He did.”

“He also told me that the Elf was your father.”

Odin made no move to reply.

Ournul sighed, leaned back in his seat, t
hen braced his hands behind his head, watching Odin with calm yet sad eyes.

Come on,
Odin thought.
If you’re going to punish me, at least make it straightforward. Don’t sugarcoat it.

“Your absence was necessary considering your circumstance,” the king finally said. “However… I should say that running away from your kingdom is never a solution to your problem, no matter what it is that
’s going on in your life.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Were you not someone I considered truly important to our kingdom and its service, I would have thrown you in jail for desertion. The past has shown that men who willingly abandon their lords, even in great fits of frustration and sadness, have succumbed to the law. I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“How am I being punished?” Odin asked.

“You technically aren’t. Considering all you’ve gone through, I would find it completely unacceptable for anyone to push any restriction on you. I can, however, see that you don’t have your swords with you, as you’ve probably been told not to have them within the grounds. That is a new law that has been established to keep the men and women within the castle guarded against possible assassins.”

“Have you had trouble since I
’ve been gone?”

“Thankfully, I haven
’t, though what with this war going on, a man can’t be too careful.” Ournul leaned forward in his seat. “Tell me, Odin… you went to the Abroen to find answers you were looking for.”

“Yes sir. I did.”

“Did you ever find them?”

Did I?
Odin thought, then frowned when the king scrutinized him with eyes that seemed to pierce into his soul.

He could lie and say that he hadn
’t—that even though he’d tried to figure out what it was that happened after death, the Elves were of no further help than any human philosophy. However, with the book in hand and the situation all the more laborious, he couldn’t honestly say that he
hadn’t
found an answer. For that, he sighed, shook his head, then leaned forward in his seat before saying, “No, sir. I haven’t.”

“Did you learn many things while you were with the Elves?”

“Yes sir.”

“Did you yourself maneuver through the forest, or did you have a guide?”

“That’s something I wanted to ask you, sir.” Odin took a deep breath. Ournul raised an eyebrow in response.

“Yes?” the king asked.

“The man… well, Halfling… I met on the outskirts of the Abroen…  the two of us have grown close over the past few months and… well… I wanted to know—if I’m still allowed, of course—if he could take up quarters with me in the castle.”

“So the two of you are… acquainted, then?”

“In a manner of speaking, sir. Yes.”

The lines in Ournul
’s brow did not bode well for Odin’s request.

Here we go,
Odin thought.
Just like my father, but with a more important figure.

“I personally have no problem with the fact that you are, as you have implied, queer, though I will say as your king that it would not be in good favor for either of us if you are seen in cohorts with a man.”

“Sir—“

“I
’m not going to argue this point with you, Odin. I am fine with the two of you living together so long as you are not seen in public engaging in scandalous activities. Those should, as they rightfully are, be private, especially considering what the people might think if they see my champion as anything other than normal.”

Normal?
Odin thought.
What did you—

“I would suggest,” Ournul said, cutting Odin off mid-thought, “for your sake and mine, that you consider striking up an affair with one of the young noblewomen who will be accompanying the caravan for the annual ball, in which the members of the royal family discuss matters of the kingdom and help delegate which laws need to be passed and what concerns need to be taken into consideration. This isn
’t to say that you should involve yourself in an affair of the heart with them, though if the two of you do come to a liking for one another, that’s all the better in my opinion.”

“Sir, I don
’t think that’s nece—“

“Had I the inclination, Odin, I would be right to agree with you, but considering how fragile our kingdom is after this war we
’ve endured, there’s no need to stir up the people any more than they already are.”

“I—“

“None of this goes outside the room—that includes you, page, and you, men.” Ournul gave each of the guards and the transcriber a long, hard look before turning his attention back on Odin. “Since I assume you’ll be staying with Nova, I’ll send word to designate one of the empty houses for you and your… ‘acquaintance.’ You are dismissed.”

“But I—“

Ournul shook his head, then gestured Odin out of his chair.

The guards stepped forward.

Without so much as another look at his king, Odin turned and started to leave the room, but stopped before he could set his hand on the doorknob.

A thought occurred to him.

“Sir,” Odin said.

“Yes?” Ournul asked.

“Are you sure you’re safe without me in your quarters?”

“I
’m just fine, Odin. I’m just fine.”

“I can’t believe it!” Odin cried, thrusting his hands into the air as he continued his mad pursuit of the guest room Nova and Katarina had given them. “I can’t fucking
believe
it!”

“I told you this might happen,” Virgin said, looking up from his seat at the end of the bed.

“I didn’t expect the king to be so ignorant. Goddammit Virgin!” Odin slammed his fist into a nearby wall and grimaced soon after. “Shit.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, drawing his cracked knuckles and hand toward his chest, where he then sighed and bowed his head

“You can
’t blame your king for the way he feels the country should operate,” the older Halfling said, standing and making his way across the brief distance between the two of them. He then wrapped his arms around Odin’s waist and leaned against his back. “Is that any better?”

“Anything you do makes me feel better.”

“I’m happy to hear that.”

“You don
’t know how happy it makes me to know that I met you on the outskirts of the Abroen.”

“I can imagine.”

“No you can’t.”

“No?”

“I don’t think so.” Odin reached down and set his hand over Virgin’s interlaced fists. “I mean, think about it—you came out of nowhere, tried to rob me, then opened your heart to let a complete stranger in. That’s not something most ordinary people would do.”

“I guess you could say I
’m not the most ordinary person.”

“Neither am I.”

“I guess that makes us two peas in a pod,” Virgin said.

Odin couldn
’t help but laugh.

After breaking away from Virgin
’s arms, he turned to face his companion, reached up to touch his face, then slid a finger along Virgin’s cheek, a smile curving his face as each individual hair across his cheeks contracted under his touch and bent to contort around his fingertip’s surface.

If only you knew,
he thought.

Such emotions could never be expressed in words. They could, of course, be translated—could be called happiness, sadness, jealousy, lust—but could never be adequately described. There was too much ignorance in the world for one to ever truly put words to the things people felt on a day-to-day basis. A laugh coul
d be a child, a frown the sea, a smile the world encapsulated in the sun’s shining light—the utter sorrow of one’s death could signal the end of the world, who’d cometh on dark wings and shroud over the distant horizon. Upon His pale horse he would ride with his staff at the ready, and he would proclaim unto them who witnessed,
I am the end,
for it was in great sorrow that it seemed there was no hope, and for that it could not be questioned when it was a person suffered. Whatever way one managed to describe it—whatever words one happened to use—they could never be correct, as it seemed in the natural scope of things that such emotions were too elaborate to ever be condensed into words.

As a smile crept across Virgin
’s face, Odin’s heart seemed to warm almost instantaneously.

“Thank you for being here for me,” Odin whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Virgin whispered back.

Reaching forward, the older Halfling set both hands on the sides of Odin
’s face and bowed their heads together.

Eternity seemed to pass.

The sun, Odin imagined, fell across the sky, toward the distant ocean that lay not too far away from the Felnon Providence, while the moon rose in the opposite direction to bring darkness to the world.

A knock came at the door.

“Boys,” Katarina’s familiar, soft-toned voice said. “Is everything all right in there?”

“Everything
’s fine,” Odin said. “Don’t worry.”

“We
’re making dinner. Come down when you’re ready.”

We will,
Odin thought, but said nothing in response.

In looking into Virgin
’s eyes, he couldn’t help but smile.

If this w
as the life he was supposed to live—shrouded, encapsulated, hidden from the world but allowed to be with the person he loved—then he felt he could do just about anything to keep this plaintive existence going.

“Come on,” Virgin said, reaching down to take Odin
’s hand. “Let’s go help them make dinner.”

Without so much as a nod, Odin turned and allowed Virgin to lead him toward the door
, hand-in-hand.

Much of the conversation was sparse and muted at best. An occasional comment, a seldom remark, a whisper between Nova and Katarina and occasionally a slight, if somewhat-forced joke from Carmen—despite everything that could have been talked about no more than several hours after Odin and Virgin had arrived, everyone was quiet, to the point where it felt the air had developed a tangible essence of which could have been cut and opened were one not careful. Odin somewhat expected a single sound to rip through the air and reveal to them the insides of what the world was made of: harsh, fleshy and filled with gelatinous, purple blood. Mostly, though, the only sounds made were from the baby—who, at his grandfather’s urging, continued to eat his mashed food.

You
’re going to have to say something eventually,
he thought, taking but a moment to cast a look over at Virgin from the corner of one eye.
You can’t expect to stay quiet forever.