The King of Forever (Scarlet and the White Wolf, #4) (15 page)

“Don’t play stupid. It’s the difference between a black sheep and a white one covered in soot. They’re the same damn thing, just dressed up different.”

Liall’s expression grew bland. “Your colorful colloquialisms occasionally escape me, Scarlet. Perhaps less metaphor and more plain speech would be in order.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself, you great prissy giant!” Scarlet shot back. “If you’re going to start
that
with those mile-long words you know I don’t understand then you can just pout here by your lonesome.” He turned away.

“I am
not
pout... Scarlet, come back here!”

By the time he’d reached the door, Liall was ahead of him, blocking the way with his body. Liall leaned his back against the door and looked down at him.

“We are going to speak of this without you running away,” he said solemnly. “I’ve let it go too long and now it’s like a block of ice between us. It’s pushing us apart and I cannot bear it. I don’t enjoy forcing you, but you
will
hear me out this time.”

“I’ve heard you!” Scarlet shouted, his heart thumping in fear. “I’ve heard you, I’ve heard Alexyin, I’ve heard Jochi, and I’ve heard you again and again. It’s you who won’t listen!”

“Alexyin?”
Liall barked. “I did not give Alexyin leave to speak to you of these things. When did this happen?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Scarlet said quickly, aware that he had slipped up. Wouldn’t Alexyin take that as proof that he had run to Liall with complaints? He was doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t do. “I misspoke. I didn’t speak with Alexyin about... about this.”

Liall’s eyes were dark, questioning. “You’re lying to me,” he said in wonder. “That’s not like you in the least. Why are you lying to me, Scarlet?”

“Because you’re not listening to what I’m really saying.”

“I’m right here. I’m listening now,” Liall pointed out with patience. “
Talk
to me, redbird.”

Scarlet closed his eyes on a spasm of pain. He took a deep breath and bunched his fists. “How old are you?”

Liall’s bows drew together in a little frown. “You know very well how old I am. I am in my eighth decade.”

“You count time in decades,” Scarlet said, ever so soft. “You live so long that some of you aren’t even sure how old you are. How old was your mother when she died? How long had she ruled?” He swallowed in a dry throat and looked at the man he loved more than life. “My dad was thirty six when he died, and he was old. His hands hurt so bad he couldn’t even hold a rake. How old am I, Liall?”

Liall looked away, and Scarlet could see he did not like the path the conversation was taking. “You were seventeen when we met, or only just,” Liall said uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time the difference in their ages had seemed to bother him, and it scandalized the Rshani court. “You’re eighteen now, nineteen next summer. I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

“You do see. You just won’t face it,” Scarlet said with a heavy sadness.
I have to tell him.
“I was so in love, and it was all so new and strange to me that I deliberately forgot the truth I’ve always known. I was selfish. I dreamed for a while, but that’s over now.” He touched Liall’s cheek and looked straight into his eyes. “I’m not asking you never to marry, or never to have children. I didn’t say that. I only asked you to
wait.
”

It took a moment for it to sink in, and Scarlet’s heart broke as he saw the truth hit his lover.

“Wait for you to
die?”
Liall said in dawning shock. “Is that what you’re saying? That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

Liall stared for a moment, his eyes wide with fear, then his old, confident, arrogant, infuriating self reasserted and he shook his head. “No. No, you’re not going to die early like your kin did, Scarlet,” he began, his voice dropping down into tones of calm. “I know your race is shorter-lived than mine, but the Hilurin you knew in Byzantur were peasants and farmers on the edge of the Bledlands. They suffered greatly, when the Aralyrin allowed them to live at all. I have no doubt that poverty and sickness contributed to their early demise. You’re not going to die anytime soon.”

“I have fifteen years,” Scarlet said tiredly. He was so tired. “Twenty at the most. It used to seem like such a long time, but then I met you and... but I’m not asking you to wait until I’m gone. Before that, I’ll be too old for you, and I won’t object when you take someone younger. I’ll understand then.”

“Oh gods,” Liall groaned. “Listen to yourself. Too old for me? You’ll never be too old for me.”

“I’ll look like my father and you’ll still be the same. That’s what I mean by
too old
. You’ll set me aside then, and you’ll be right to.” Scarlet marveled that he could say these things aloud. He had avoided doing it for so long, for Liall’s sake as much as his own.

“I won’t listen to this.” Liall sounded like he was gasping for air. “It’s not true.” He turned away.

“Now who’s running?” Scarlet’s voice grew thin. “Don’t leave, please.”

Liall wrenched himself back from the door as if trying to tear himself in two. He pulled Scarlet into his arms roughly.

“Gods, why?” He moaned, wrapping his arms tight around Scarlet. “Why do we have so little time? It isn’t right. It’s not natural. You should live years beyond me, as honest and good as you are, not wither like a young tree in the cold. I can’t...”

“Hush.” Scarlet was struck with a sense of unreality. How odd that he should be the comforter now, when it had always been Liall before. Liall had always been stronger than him.
Perhaps not in this
, he thought. Liall desired to control everything around him, on his terms. He was a wolf wherever he went, forever snapping at the universe to align with his will.

“This cannot happen,” Liall whispered.

Scarlet had never heard him sound so scared. “It will, and you have to live with it. What else can you do?”

“What can I do?” Liall echoed softly, his hands restless as he petted Scarlet’s hair, and Scarlet felt the slight tremble in his fingers. “What can I do? I must do something... I must do something...”

***

“I
cannot lose you,” Liall repeated over and over again as he held him in their bed, after they had loved. Though the sun never set now, the heavy casements were closed, sealing out the light. The only illumination was the flickering fire, stoked with sweet woods that burned with an aroma almost like perfume.

According to the marks on the candle, it was very late at night. The Nauhinir was quiet and Liall’s bare skin was warm against his side.

“All life is filled with loss,” Scarlet whispered against Liall’s chest, his fingers stroking the deep amber of his lover’s skin. “If we’re lucky and good, there’s some love in there, too. I think I love you enough for ten lifetimes.”

Liall hugged him tighter. “Ten lifetimes wouldn’t be enough. I won’t accept losing you.”

“What else can you do?”

Liall looked down at him. His long hand brushed Scarlet’s hair away from his temples, and Scarlet saw the steely determination on his features.

“I don’t know that I can do anything, but I’m not a man who accepts defeat easily. You should know that. There are curaes in Rshan unlike any you have in Byzantur, very wise and learned men. For all we know, the early deaths of your people may be from some sickness of the blood or foreign malady that no one has investigated yet, something endemic to Byzantur but unknown here. You forget: the Hilurin are not
from
Byzantur. Not originally. Rshan is your true land. Don’t look cross with me; I’m speaking the truth. The Aralyrin live much longer than you, yes? And you can hardly tell some of them from a pure Hilurin.”

“But that’s just because—”

“No, no arguments. For now, put thoughts of death from your mind. And forget Ressilka, too. The barons can go hang.”

Scarlet sighed. “I’m too selfish to protest. I can’t pretend I want you to have her, not now. Even when I’m gone, I suspect I’ll resent it.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Scarlet saw the iron in Liall’s pale blue eyes, and he felt cold. What could Liall possibly do to change nature? Hilurin were short-lived. There were reasons for that, he was sure, though they were known only to Deva. His people cherished life more because of it. They were closer to the earth and closer to the gods for it. They married young, prized their children, and risked their scant time in the world much less on wandering and chance. Few Hilurin were what anyone could call adventurous, and when they were, they were branded with suspicion like Scarlet had been. Men with the Wilding were thought to be poor mates and providers.

Well, perhaps he was no fit mate for a woman, but he had been a good one to Liall. It bothered him that he seemed to be failing in that duty now.
A good mate would want children for his beloved,
he decided
. I should want to see him content and happy at his fireside, with plump children at his feet. Instead, I just want him to take me hunting or on a long journey. I’d even be happy to go to sea again.

“I wish we could leave,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to Liall’s bronze throat. “I wish we could travel the roads again, even just for a little while.”

Liall was silent for a moment. “Perhaps we can,” he said. “Don’t roll your pretty black eyes at me, ser Impertinence. It’s not an empty promise, though you may not like where we go.”

Scarlet thought he heard something in that. “Has something happened?”

“Old business. The tribesmen in the north are looting and burning again. It has stirred some debate about what precisely is to be done.” Liall paused. “I’ve called a baron’s council to discuss the matter.”

It was never as easy as Liall made it sound. If he said there was a problem, that meant there had already been blood. “So there will be a battle?”

“More than one, I suspect. It’s nothing new, love. There were battles in your land, too.”

“Hilurin don’t attack their own people,” Scarlet murmured unhappily. “You have a fine kingdom here. Your people are healthy and well fed, and there are no slaves or any great want. Why do you fight among each other so much?”

“It’s our nature, I think. We may despise outlanders, but we tolerate each other little better. We are territorial and jealous and we lust for power. There are nations like that in the south, too.”

“Yes, the Minh,” Scarlet said. “You’re not like the Minh at all.”

“Don’t be too sure. Most powerful nations have more in common that you like to think about. We do not keep slaves, true, but we take what we want on the seas. We don’t even call that piracy, just keeping our waters safe. Any ship that comes near Rshan without letters of commission from the crown will be set upon and seized. And some, my little pedlar, don’t even wait for the ships to come that close. You forget: Rshani don’t feel that outlanders have souls. When a Rshani warrior kills a Morturii or a Minh, they don’t believe they’re killing a true person, merely something with the shape of a person.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“I do not, no. I don’t think I ever did. Neither did Cestimir, or my lady mother. But I am not your common Rshani, and I’ve lived outside of these lands much longer than I’ve lived in them.”

Scarlet sighed against Liall’s skin. “I hate that kind of thinking. I wish you wouldn’t keep reminding me.”

Liall rubbed Scarlet’s back in small circles. “I have to keep reminding you,” he said. “You can’t get too comfortable in your safety here, redbird. My court may love you, but there will always be men who don’t.”

Scarlet nearly purred and threw a leg over Liall’s hips, snuggling closer. “Well, they’re not here, are they?”

“They may come here.”

Scarlet sensed a message in that. He looked up. “Did... are they here? She is, isn’t she? Here in the palace. Lady Ressilka.”

“No, no. Set your mind at ease.” Liall kissed Scarlet’s cheek and whispered,
“I’m sorry, my love,”
against his skin.

Scarlet put his head back down on Liall’s chest. “I’ve lost track; what exactly are you apologizing for?”

“For hurting you. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard to agree to something that is against your nature.”

Scarlet pulled away from Liall’s embrace and sat up. “Can you do it? Refuse her, I mean. Is it possible?”

Liall rubbed his jaw. He looked very tired. “Perhaps. Not bluntly, and certainly not now. But perhaps a way can be found where Ressanda is satisfied.”

“Not Ressilka?”

“This was never about her. Royal marriages are seldom about what the bride and groom want. I don’t know if the girl likes me or hates me or wishes me quartered in a gibbet cage. I’ve only spoken to her once.”

Scarlet swallowed hard and felt his eyes stinging. “For however long you manage to delay it, thank you.”

“You misunderstand me.” 

For a moment, Scarlet was afraid. “How?”

“Putting a hook in a bear’s mouth is a dangerous undertaking. I can lure the baron and play him for time, but at some point the game will end and he’ll know he’s been maneuvered. When he realizes that, he might withdraw his offer of Ressilka’s hand. That’s when the game becomes deadly.”

“A game. Is that what a crown really is?”

“Depend on it.”

“Liall, I don’t want you to be childless and alone after I’m gone.”

Liall mussed Scarlet’s hair fondly. “Fool. You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to stay with me until I’m old and gray and you beg me to stop trying to make love to you, because I’m wrinkled and have no teeth left and I’m too ugly to fuck.”

“Now you’re just making fun of me,” Scarlet said crossly, reaching for the sheet to pull around his nakedness.

Liall jerked the sheet away. “Stop that, I like to look at you. And I’m not joking. We’re going to be old men together, tottering our way to the throne room with servants holding our hands to keep us from getting lost.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible that men can dream. I thought magic was impossible, didn’t I? I knew it as sure as I knew what direction the sun rose and the color of my eyes. Well, I was wrong. If I was wrong about magic, then it follows I may have been wrong about the gods, too. Your Deva, for instance.”