The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood (6 page)

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Authors: Andrew Ashling

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BOOK: The Invisible Chains - Part 3: Bonds of Blood
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...

No, my chair is out of bounds. So is the floor. Or everything else you would care to name. Except my bed.

...

Yes, Verial did agree.

Chapter 2:

The Price of Regret


You have slept well, it seems, Wolves' Friend. Neither does it seem your experiences of this night were too
much of an ordeal for you. The stool prepared you well.”

...


I'm afraid so. After all you might want to stay this night as well. However, the knob will not be any bigger.”

...


No, I didn't expect you would thank me. It's rather me who should be thanking you. It was most... agreeable.

Considering your youth and lamentable inexperience. You made up for it in enthusiasm, I suppose. Which is
strange, as you don't seem to cherish the memory of it now.”

...


Regrets... Regrets are bootless. A vain trick of the mind. An impotent raging against what cannot be
changed anyway. A distraction from the moment.”

...


No, that is not what I'm saying. You learn from them, you thank them and then politely send them on their
way as the unwelcome, uninvited, nagging guests they are. You take from them what you need. Then you
forget they ever existed.”

...


Anaxantis? Remember he was only seventeen at the time. In some societies that makes you a responsible
adult for whom no excuses are made. In others...”

...


Yes, but at the same time heavy burdens were laid upon his shoulders, and love comes in many shades and
colors, Hunter, as you will learn one day. Sometimes love is a needy beggar. Sometimes a victorious
conqueror. Or an indulgent friend. And who is going to decide which kind of love is the more precious?”

...


It just wasn't as simple as all that, but I'll give you that mistakes were made. More were going to be made as
well.”

...


Then maybe I should continue the story. Since you seem to have done with your food, why don't you clear
the table, undress and sit down over the stool?”

“I didn't expect you to be up already,” Hemarchidas said when he entered the war room.

“Don't... don't shout,” Anaxantis answered, nursing his forehead with one hand.

“What? I am not... Oh, I see. you have a hangover.”

“A whopping big one too. I took a cold bath this morning, midday actually, and I am all sweaty again. One minute I feel warm, the next cold. My tongue feels as if it were made out of leather. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, my ears hurt. I swear, I'll never touch the stuff again.”

“How is that possible? You only drink your wine watered down.”

“Last night at the banquet, I don't know, I felt good and all fuzzy and I drank one cup of undiluted wine. I don't know what got into me.”

“Only the one cup? You're certain?”

“Of course, I'm certain. Ask Lorcko if you don't believe me.”

“Oh, but I do believe you. That is, I believe you only drank one cup knowingly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anaxantis, one cup can't have this effect. Even if you're not used to drinking your wine pure.”

“So?”

“Isn't that obvious? Someone spiked your drinks.”

“Who? Timishi? Impossible. I was looking at him all eveninshi? Ill drig.”

He colored red.

“No, no, his buddy, the rusty colored one. He deliberately crept between us. Well, I flattered myself that he wanted to get into my pants, abhorrent as the prospect may be, but he must have planned sitting next to you from the beginning.”

“What? Just to spike my wine?”

“Evidently. Whether Timishi knew is altogether another matter. I wonder why though.”

Anaxantis hesitated, sighed and told him what happened. When he was done, Hemarchidas whistled.

“So you bedded the Mukthar prince?” he laughed.

“Not so... Not so loud. In heaven's name. It's embarrassing.”

Hemarchidas looked indulgently at his friend.


I must be over you or I wouldn't be able to take this so lightly. In a way I'm glad, because it means we are
friends, truly friends.”

“Oh, come on, it's hardly unheard of. We're young after all, and Timishi is quite attractive. If you like his type, that is. Did you have a good time, at least?”

Anaxantis colored even more red.

“Actually, yes, though I feel as if I shouldn't have.”

“Ah,” Hemarchidas said. “I see. Well, no use crying over spilled milk, I suppose. Oh sorry, wrong image.

Brace yourself, it will be all over Lorseth in no time.”

Anaxantis groaned.

“You think?” he asked in a small voice.

“Of course. Somebody, somewhere will have seen the two of you and have connected the dots. And something tells me Mukthars aren't particularly known for their discretion.”

“This keeps getting better and better. How was your evening?”

“Trying to keep Rodomesh's hands off of me kept me fairly occupied. At last — you were gone by then — he threw up, almost on my lap, drunk as a skunk. I couldn't leave him there, thanks to your general order to be kind and civil to them, so I wanted to carry him to their lodgings. When I came there the doors were closed and only on the top floor a light was burning. That would have been—”

“Yes, yes, carry on.”

“Well, I dragged him all the way to my barrack and laid him in one of the spare rooms. He's still there, as far as I know.”

He chuckled.

“I'm afraid I undressed him completely before tucking him in,” he continued, “and I threw his stinking clothes in a basket outside. By the way, did you know they don't wear underpants, but... but of course you do.”

Anaxantis gave him a dark look and remained silent for a while.

“If he is still there when you return, maybe you could try to find something out,” he broke the silence. “Just before Rodomesh pierced his tongue, Damydas seems to have had some kind of an epiphany. If I remember correctly he said something about a so called ‘shirma.’ I'd like to know who or what that is. Then he said Timishi had no right to say whatever it was he was saying. A moment later he understood something. ‘Of course, the vrangmàhai,’ he said. I know that màhai means the people, the nation. But the rest... Something keeps tugging at my brain. As if ther Somets isaie is something I should remember. I just can't put my finger on it. Most annoying.”

Hemarchidas thought for a moment.

“I'll do my best, that is, if he's still there, but seeing how quick they were to silence Damydas, don't you think it's unlikely he will volunteer that information now?”

Anaxantis stood up and went over to a cupboard. When he sat down again, he put the Mukthar knife on the table.

“Return his dagger. Tell him you found it in your saddlebag. That you had forgotten about it. Our smiths have analyzed it. First rate steel, but nothing special. The secret lies in the ragged edge.”

“Can we make them ourselves?”

Anaxantis nodded.

“And I've given orders to experiment with arrows and lances as well. We will need every edge we can get.

Pardon the somewhat dull pun.”

Hemarchidas stood up.

“I'll better be off then. I'll go out of my way to be friendly to the little animal. Not as friendly as you were to their prince, but still.”

“Get out of my sore eyes,” Anaxantis said, and he smiled.

Anaxantis decided that a walk on the beach would do him good. The weather was mild, yet he felt cold, no doubt a result of his lingering hangover, and he clamped his mantle tightly around him as he walked beside the roaring sea.

He smiled to himself, thinking back at last evening. The Mukthar prince had been really sweet, once he had overcome his initial reluctance to participate. Sweet and enthusiastic. On the whole the experience had been fun, nice, hot, gratifying, pleasing... and wrong. It could not ever happen again, he decided. It would not ever happen again. If it hadn't been for the wine, it wouldn't have happened in the first place.


But not everything can be blamed on the wine. There was an emptiness that needed to be filled.”

He looked out over the sea.


Have I lost my love? Is the guy in my apartments only an empty shell who vaguely resembles him? Have I
broken him beyond repair? Yet, I can't let him go free. Not yet. Not without being sure.”

His feelings were a total mess. He didn't love Timishi, and the one he did love was unreachable. What if he would stay an empty husk forever? Always standing in the way of his chances to really love and be loved?

He shivered in the wind.

“What if I were to just forgive and forget... forget it ever happened. But it isn't that simple. Even then, even then it would stand between us. Always. He would know it. I would know it. And slowly it would poison everything. He would come to resent being the forgiven one, and maybe I would resent him for accepting.

There must be a way to resolve this... to even the balance. If only I could see it. The only thing I am certain of is that I can't bear this much longer.”

He sighed and resumed his walk.


Maybe it will all be resolved anyway. Maybe the Mukthars will see to that.”

Lorcko of Iramid had seen the prince coming and had moved behind a dune. He had no particular wish to speak to anyone or to be seen. Not even from a distance.


Is it true you spent tem" alu se ohe night with the Mukthar prince, as the little barbarian said? So, you're
human after all. You're not a prude, nor a virgin. I still wonder what came over you. I served you myself. I've
never seen anyone get so drunk from one glass of wine.”

He frowned as he saw the prince looking out over the sea.


Well, you have your troubles, I have mine. But mine might be on the verge of being resolved. One at least.”

He had been irritated at the irresponsible, oafish behavior of his father.


Not very smart, father, not smart at all. But I should thank you, I suppose. You have given me the perfect
way out. Our next get-together will go a little different than you expect, and there won't be much you will be
able to do about it.”

Which left Ambrick. He had been patient, the perfect gentleman, for more than a month now. No tricks, no hidden persuaders, no surreptitious seduction maneuvers. No fake accidental touching, no deceptively innocent showing of flesh to whet the appetite. No nothing.


Nothing, because there is nothing I can do but wait. And I will. I will give you room, and I will give you
time. As much as you need. When you're ready, I will be there. When finally you can see it too.


It's you I want.”

Arranulf stood on the crest of the dunes when he saw Lorcko sitting almost at the bottom. He seemed to hide from something or someone. Then he saw the prince stand further at the beach, near the tideland. Without making a noise he sat down behind some grassy knoll. He was in no mood to talk to anyone.


I'm such a fool. Such a damn fool. All this time I thought he wasn't over the prince. I said nothing. Did
nothing. All because I thought he needed time. Because I thought eventually he would come to see that all the
prince wanted from him was his friendship. Yeah, right.


And what was I thinking? Why didn't I go home with the guys? Why did I stay? I didn't even know what I
would have said. Even if I could have gathered enough courage to say anything at all. I only saw the hall
emptying and I thought... I don't even know what I thought. Maybe that you would see me. See me? Whenever
have you seen me? Truly seen me?


I could have spared myself a lot of heartache, if only I had gone home, as I should have, with the guys. I

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