The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate (46 page)

“I changed the sheets on your bed, like you asked,” was the first thing Ehandar said when, a few days after his long talk with Hemarchidas, Anaxantis entered his room.

He went over to the bed and took his time inspecting it. Then he nodded and smiled.

“Very good. I'm so proud of you,” he said cheerfully. “You're really getting proficient at this, you know. Very, very good.”

Ehandar accepted the praise with gratitude. He was happy to have pleased his brother. Anaxantis came to him and rubbed his body against his, embracing him and planting a light kiss on one of his shoulders. Then he took a step back and pointed to his mantle. Ehandar unclasped the garment and hung it in the wardrobe.

“I'll have your foot bath ready in a minute,” he said while he ungirded Anaxantis's belt. “You must be tired. Maybe you'd like to go sit in the chair meanwhile?”

Anaxantis did so, and a minute later Ehandar came back with a basin full of warm water and towels. He was careful to carry the towels over his arm and to not drape them over his shoulders. He didn't want any misunderstandings. He sat on his knees and heels beside Anaxantis's feet and started unlacing his boots. When he had taken them off, he guided his feet, one by one, in the warm water. His brother sighed contentedly and this also made him happy.

“The water isn't too warm?” he asked smiling and looked up.

“No, it's just perfect, exactly what I needed after such a long day, Tarno. Thank you.”

Ehandar gave him a surprised look.

“Tarno?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you. Remember I said I would give you a name? Well, I finally decided upon a new one for you. We can't have you being nameless, if only for the administration.”

“I... I thought that was only a formality... but that between us...”

“No, I think it's better we use it too. After all, it is your real, in fact, your only name.”

“Still... How did you come by it?”

“It's just something I made up. I liked the sound of it. It's also kinder. One thing less to remind you... of earlier. Anyway, I have decided, and Tarno it will be. I have already notified the administration. I couldn't keep referring to you as the person that lives in my room, now, could I?”

“I suppose,” Ehandar said hesitatingly while getting up.

Anaxantis rested his hand upon his head.

“Wash my feet, Tarno, will you?”

“Yes... yes.. of course,” Ehandar said. “Let me get a sponge and soap.”

Anaxantis removed his hand.

“From tomorrow on, bring them together with the water and towels.”

“Is there no end, no end at all, to this?”
Ehandar though miserably while he went to the bathroom.
“Now he has taken my name. I've given it up myself, but I thought that was only for the outside world. What's next? How much of this can I take? And Tarno. Of all names, Tarno. I know I am not exactly a scholar, but I managed to translate the ancient Boltac inscription on the dagger, didn't I? Does he think I can't even remember the meaning of a simple, common word like ‘tarno’?”

He sat down again beside Anaxantis's feet and started washing them.

“Anaxantis,” he began tentatively, “do we really have to—”

“Wait,” Anaxantis interrupted him calmly, smiling down upon him. “Do you really think it is appropriate for you to call me by my given name?”

He placed one wet foot unceremoniously on Ehandar's thighs.

“Well, do you?”

“How else should I call you?” Ehandar asked, looking up with big, round, wondering eyes.

“Why not what everybody else calls me?”

Ehandar started drying his foot. Then he realized what his brother wanted from him.

“You want me to call you...”

He couldn't finish his sentence.

“Why not? General Tarngord doesn't seem to mind and he is the commander of my army. Do you want to compare yourself with a general?” He smiled indulgently. “Seriously? Look at you.”

“No... no... of course not,” Ehandar stammered while taking Anaxantis's other foot in his lap.

When he had finished drying it, he wanted to stand up, but Anaxantis once again laid his hand on his head, and kept it there.

“Stay,” he said, smiling friendly. “I know this is new to you, but I'm here to help you. Let's practice, yes?”

“Yes,” Ehandar said, feeling everything in him revolting and at the same time realizing how dangerous, how very, very dangerous revolt would be.

“Yes who?” Anaxantis asked softly.

Ehandar let his head sink down.

“Yes... yes...,” he whispered.

“Yes who?” Anaxantis repeated patiently and as softly as the first time.

“Yes... my... my lord,” Ehandar murmured almost inaudible, slurring the words.

“Better... Louder now.”

Ehandar remained silent, his head bowed down, with Anaxantis's hand still resting upon it.

“Come... you can do it... I know you can do it,” Anaxantis coaxed him on.

“Yes... my lord,” Ehandar said, somewhat, but not much, louder.

“Again and louder.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Better. Much better. Now, look up. Look at me. Look in my eyes... and again.”

Ehandar looked up, deeply humiliated and his eyes moist with tears. With some difficulty he forced himself to look in his younger brother's expectant eyes.

“Yes, my lord.”

Anaxantis patted him on the head, leaned forward and pinched one of his earlobes. Smiling he lifted the earlobe a little bit, forcing Ehandar to tilt his head.

“Very good, Tarno. Very good. I'm pleased with you,” he said smilingly.

He let go of the earlobe and Ehandar remained sitting still.

“What do you say, when I give you a compliment?”

“Thank you... eh... I mean, thank you, my lord.”

“You're welcome, Tarno. Now put those things away.”

When he came back from the bathroom, Anaxantis was standing beside the hearth.

“Come here,” he said.

Ehandar went gingerly up to him. Anaxantis took his hand and guided him before the fire where the flames lighted up his body. When he raised his head he noticed that his brother was gazing at every part of his naked body.

“Let me look at you” Anaxantis said softly, while he glanced up and down at his brother. “Now, turn around... slowly... slowly... stop... right there.”

Ehandar stood with his back at Anaxantis now, waiting for permission to move.

“You're so beautiful,” he heard his brother whisper.

He felt his brother's hand wander down from his neck, over his spine, caressing his backside.

“My beautiful, beautiful boy.” Then after what seemed like several minutes. “Turn further... slowly... yes.”

When he was again facing him, Anaxantis wrapped his arms around him, laying his hands, fingers spread wide, possessively on both his buttocks and pressing Ehandar's naked groin into his own.

“I just realized,” he said with a hoarse, guttural voice, “that it has been a while since I invited you into my bed. Do you want to spend the night with me?”

Ehandar looked up at him.

“Of course, of course, of course I want to spend the night with you. I want to spend every night and every day and every waking and every sleeping moment with you, and you know that.”

“You don't have to,” Anaxantis said in his normal voice, as to an equal or at least a valued collaborator. “I mean it. You're completely free to decide what you'd rather do. I promise, I swear, I won't hold it against you if you were to decline my invitation. There will be no repercussions. No repercussions at all. You have my word. So, don't feel as if you have to.”

Ehandar nodded.

He was totally confused. To hear that voice again. To be spoken to like that and not as if he was a nuisance, an annoying child or a lowly servant. It was like water to one who is dying of thirst. And he felt wanted again. Wanted by his love. By his lord. His lord who was pleased with him. There had been real longing, real desire in his love's voice. So what if... it didn't matter. It didn't matter one bit. They were only words and they were what his love, his demanding love wanted to hear.

What his lord wanted, his lord must have.

He nodded again.

“I'm so glad you're staying,” Anaxantis said, looking coyly, almost bashful and he kissed him on the cheek. “Shall we go to bed then?” he added, taking his hand and smiling happily.

Ehandar looked at him, at the handsome face, the golden hair, at the boy who smiled so genuinely inviting at him, and suddenly it wasn't difficult anymore. This was his love and it was what his love wanted. Therefore, it was easy. It felt natural even.

“Yes, my lord,” Tarno said, smiling contentedly.

Chapter 21:

Warlord

“We are leaving for Dermolhea in three days, guys,” Anaxantis said to Arranulf and Obyann who stood at attention. “Please, take a seat.”

He handed Obyann a parchment.

“This is a list of the pages I want to accompany me. Look it over.”

Obyann glanced at the parchment and handed it at Arranulf, who read it from top to bottom.

“Unless I am very much mistaken, these are all the pages with the highest ranks. Sons of dukes and counts mostly and a few sons of viscounts.”

“Very discerning, Arranulf,” Anaxantis smiled. “Believe me, I have my reasons.”

“So you won't be needing me,” Obyann grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Anaxantis said.

“Yes, what do you mean, Obyann?” Arranulf concurred.

“Well, isn't it obvious. The Ramaldahs aren't dukes or counts, not by a long shot.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Anaxantis said. “I looked it up. The nobility of the House of Ramaldah predates that of many a duke. In fact, the lack of a specific title attests to that fact. Dukes, counts, marquesses, barons... they are all later inventions. Originally there were only lords and commoners. Make no mistake, somebody was called a count because he wasn't as high as a lord, and not the other way around.”

“Humph,” Obyann snorted, but Anaxantis saw that he seemed to grow an inch or two, and smiled.

“And your name stood at the top of the list, didn't you see?” Arranulf said. “Besides, I wouldn't think of going without you.”

“Yeah, must have looked over it,” Obyann said.

“So, guys,” Anaxantis resumed, “I count on you to see to it that the pages will be at their best behavior and dressed at their finest. Which shouldn't be too difficult, as their uniforms are brand new. Don't forget, this will be the first time you will have to perform at a public function. And the Amirathan Provincial Council is very, very important for our plans. In fact, everything depends on a good outcome of that meeting.”

“We'll do everything in our power to keep them in line, my lord,” Arranulf said.

“Oh, and another thing,” Anaxantis said smilingly. “There are still more pages coming. There seems to be an endless supply of them. I expect that there will be over sixty in a few months. So, I have decided to set aside a complete unit of barracks for you guys. That includes a general's barrack, which I have decided will be your place of residence. It will set you aside from the others and give you some privacy.”

Both Obyann and Arranulf smiled proudly at the announcement.

“Come on, let's move immediately,” Obyann said to Arranulf, the moment they left the war room. “I'm a light sleeper and I could live to be a hundred without ever having to hear a pampered count's son snivel for his mother again or having a baronet keep me awake with his snoring.”

After having explained the new arrangement to the twenty or so pages, they began packing their belongings. Rahendo had all the while looked nervously around him. Finally he scraped all his courage together and went up to Arranulf.

“You aren't leaving me, with... with them, are you?” he asked slightly panicking.

Arranulf looked up, saw his sad, droopy face and smiled encouragingly at him.

“It will be all right, Rahendo,” he said.

“No, it won't. Look at them. They're so big. And strong. Oh no, it will definitely not be all right.”

Arranulf looked around. He saw two big guys snickering and glancing furtively in Rahendo's direction from time to time. It was obvious they were up to no good and Arranulf knew that it only took one ringleader to turn a peaceful group into a pack of hungry wolves. Rahendo began to look more and more like the hare they planned to have for dinner. The constant twitching of his nose only reinforced that image.

He tugged at Arranulf's sleeve.

“Can't I come with you guys?” he insisted, trying not to whine. “You two have many duties. Meanwhile I could take care of the barrack. Clean it and so on. It would be like having your own page, wouldn't it?”

“I'll have a word with Obyann,” Arranulf said.

“No, no, no, no, Arranulf, no,” Obyann growled. “Are you bonkers? Have you lost your head? No. The guy sneaks into your bed. In the nude, if you please. Besides, a little scrap won't hurt him. It might even make a man out of him. Grow some hair on his chest. No. And that's final.”

“They're going to eat him alive, man,” Arranulf said. “Look at them. Some of them seem vicious bullies who—”

“Bullies? I hate bullies. They remind me of Ruldo. Have I ever mentioned him? He's barely human. He's the bully that bullies bullies and one of these days I'm going to... Ooh, I hate that guy.”

He looked around. Rahendo found it safer to join them and followed with his eyes where Obyann was looking. He was debating whether he would present his case again, when he saw the surly boy go to his bed and worm himself between the head of it and the wall, pushing it forward.

“Don't stand there gawking with your mouths open, ladies,” Obyann muttered, “and help me with this bed. Or were you thinking of letting me carry this thing to our barrack by myself?”

“Oh, oh, oh, I'm coming with you guys, I'm coming with you guys,” Rahendo exclaimed in a rare outburst of enthusiasm.

“Thank you, Obyann. Thank you, Arranulf,” Rahendo said, while they were hauling his bed to their new abode.

“Keeping your lips to yourself is thanks enough for me,” Obyann snarled, “and remember, kid, before the first drop of rain touches the ground, you crawl into bed with Landemere. And I don't care if he's awake, fast asleep or three days dead and his corpse is stinking to high heaven. Got that?”

“Yes, Obyann,” Rahendo said, looking like a dutiful puppy.

Later in the afternoon, Arranulf came into their barrack, carrying some parchments. He took the top one off and handed it to Obyann, ho was sitting at the table.

“A letter from your father, it seems,” he said.

The rest of the stack he handed to Rahendo.

“And these are for you.”

“What's all that?” Obyann asked flabbergasted. “Is the whole viscountcy of Eldorn writing to you?”

“Oh no, just my sisters,” Rahendo said, sitting down at the table and breaking the seal of the letter on top.

“There hasn't happened enough in the entire kingdom of Ximerion since you left home to warrant the wasting of so much parchment,” Obyann grumbled.

“They all write about the same things probably. They all tell me the same things when I am at home too. Even if I was there when it happened.”

“Really, can't you control your womenfolk? What's the use of that?”

“Oh, they tell it all differently, of course.”

He leaned back and happily began perusing his parchments. After a while he looked up.

“Aren't you going to read yours?” he asked.

“Later,” Obyann replied curtly.

“But it could be urgent. Who knows? Maybe something very bad happened. You should read it immediately.”

“I said later, kid.”

Rahendo looked at him as if he was the most pitiful thing he had ever seen in his whole life.

“You can't read, can you?”

“Sure, I can,” Obyann said annoyed. “I'm just not in the mood, is all.”

“Prove it,” Rahendo said.

“Yeah, Ramaldah, prove it,” Arranulf chimed in with a smile. “Ah, of course, that's why you hadn't seen your name on the list the prince showed us.”

“Would you two get off my case already.”

Rahendo walked over to him, pulled the letter out of his hands, broke the seal, opened it and held it before Obyann's eyes.

“Read,” he said morosely.

“Yeah, read it, Ramaldah,” Arranulf smiled.

“Oh, all right,” Obyann gave in. “Give me that.”

He looked at the great, clumsy letters on the parchment and scraped his throat.

“Dear son,” he read aloud, “How are you? Here everything is good. I hope that stupid bum Landemere isn't giving you any trouble. Ruldo is still an asshole. Hope you're having fun. Be good. Your father. Bye for now.”

He looked defiantly at the others.

“Happy now?”

Rahendo shook his head sadly.

“That's not what it says. Besides, you're holding it upside down.”

“I knew that,” Obyann said, turning the parchment.

“He's got you, Ramaldah,” Arranulf laughed. “You were holding it right to begin with.”

Obyann's face became fiery red, both from anger and embarrassment.

“So, I can't read. Big deal,” he barked. “What's it to you? And besides, I'll have people to read me stuff.”

He turned his chair, with his face to the wall.

“Oh no, Obyann, that's not good. Not good at all,” Rahendo said concernedly. “They will know you can't read. They'll tell you whatever they want and you won't be able to check it. They'll rob you blind.”

He remained standing beside Obyann's chair, gazing intently at his back.

“I have an idea,” he said after a while. “I'll teach you to read and write.”

“What? Are you out of your mind?” an equally distressed as indignant voice echoed from the wall. “No. Forget it. No.”

“Four letters a day,” Rahendo said in a monotonous voice.

“Are you deaf, kid? I said no. No.”

“Oh,” Arranulf added, “I'll ask Hemarchidas to ask Tomar to lend us a quill and some ink.”

“And maybe some used parchment that can be written upon on the backside,” Rahendo added. “Three letters a day,” he then said, turning again towards Obyann's back.

“No. What's so difficult to understand about the word no. No, no and again, no. And go away.”

“No. Two letters a day,” Rahendo whispered. “Only two letters a day.”

“Give in already, Ramaldah,” Arranulf said, barely able to prevent himself from laughing out loud. “You know he will stand there days on end until you do.”

Obyann turned around and looked at the sad face staring at him.

“Look, kid, I know you mean well. It's just not for me. Understand?”

“Two letters a day.”

“Are you trying to let me lose my composure? By the nine horns of Zardok, what do I have to do to get rid of your infernal whining.”

“Two letters a day.”

“Aargh,” Obyann yelled exasperated.

“Two. Only two letters a day,” Rahendo droned on, sticking two ringed fingers in his face.

“One. You hear me? One, and only one. And only to stop you from yammering my ears off my head, you little pest. One. One bloody, stupid, fucking letter.”

“Yesssss,” Rahendo said. “We'll begin today.”

“Oh, by all the Gods in heaven, I need to hurt someone very severely. Where is that worm Ruldo when you need him?”

“Begin with the first letter of his name,” Arranulf laughed. “A big fat zero.”

“That's not nice,” Rahendo said disapprovingly.

“How about I plant my big fat fist in your big fat face, Landemere, so you can read my big fat knuckles?” Obyann grumbled threateningly.

“Meanwhile, I'll read your letter to you,” Rahendo said. “Let me see... hm... there is quite a lot of talk about celery apparently and a certain Ruldo seems to have broken a leg while chasing some girls over a ditch—”

“Really?” Obyann exclaimed while turning his chair back around. “Well, well. Maybe there is something in that reading thing after all. I wouldn't have liked to miss that terrific bit of news.”

“Most of the other cities, towns and free communities are behind us, never fear,” Uppam Fraleck said self satisfied. “Those who had their doubts, I simply told that the nobility would in all likelihood vote against your proposal. Since both nobles and commoners have to be in favor with a three fourth majority that would effectively be the end of the tribute. But I urged them to vote for it nevertheless, as you were sure to take note of who did and who didn't. So, they will vote for the tribute with much ostentation to come in your good graces, at the same time counting on the nobles to block your proposal. Convincing the nobility, on the other hand...”

“Leave the nobles to me, lord mayor,” Anaxantis said, smiling faintly. “Believe me, I will paint them a picture of what will happen if they have the temerity to vote me down that will haunt their dreams for weeks to come.”

“And then?”

“And then the collection of the tribute must start as soon as possible. So must the recruitment. And the training. You'll be pleased to know that I have decided to encamp part of the Amirathan Militia on a royal domain, not far from here. Their initial training will take place at Lorseth, then they will move here. I expect most of the soldiers will spend their pay in your good city.”