TheRedKing (18 page)

“Stop it!” She laughed, thrashing, water flying everywhere.

“I’d better or you might drown us.” He chuckled but
continued tickling her for a moment.

Once he released her, Delia lay back against the side of the
tub, still smiling and catching her breath.

“You’re a wicked man,” she said.

“Am I?” His expression was adorably devilish.

With the constant threat of war, they had few moments such
as this, when they thought of nothing except each other.

Delia climbed toward him and kissed him. He held her close
and she rested her cheek against his chest. They lounged in the tub for a while
longer, then Delia stood reluctantly.

“Your mother will be here soon and we need to dress. Do you
mind buttoning me again or shall I call for Echo?”

“I’ll be happy to play the part of your maid tonight.” He
took her hand and kissed the back of it.

“Thank you, sir.”

Delia stepped out of the tub and reached for two towels. She
handed one to Areus as he left the bath.

By the time a servant arrived with their food, the king and
queen were dressed and awaiting their guest. Cosma arrived soon after. Instead
of the common garb she had been wearing since her arrival, she wore an old
dress of her own. It was made of forest-green silk and in perfect condition.
She wore a matching veil and a braided gold belt. Alexa had suggested giving
Cosma’s clothes to her. Several garments had been stored since she had left for
the convent so many years ago. Delia agreed that the clothes should be returned
to their rightful owner. Only now did she realize that she probably should have
asked Areus first.

She glanced at him and added quickly, “Alexa and I thought
that since the clothes belonged to her she should have them back. It was my
decision, but I should have consulted you.”

“No. That’s fine.” He nodded to Cosma. “They still look well
on you.”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid there’s little left of me that’s
bearable to the eye.”

“It takes more than a fair face to make a woman beautiful,” he
said.

Appreciation shone in Cosma’s eyes and she nodded.

Delia smiled and squeezed Areus’s hand as she passed him to
reach the table.

“You may go,” Areus told the guard who had escorted Cosma.
Then he glanced at the servants who had brought their meal. “You as well.”

They left and Areus held a chair for Delia, then Cosma. He
also sat and an uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

“Shall I serve?” Delia asked, hoping that any conversation
would ease the tension among them.

“Please,” Areus answered.

While Delia served the food, he poured wine.

“I’m sorry,” Cosma said.

Areus’s brow furrowed. “What for?”

“For everything. Nothing should be this way. As mother and
son we should be at ease with each other. You and Hypatios should have been reared
as brothers—friends instead of enemies.”

“We can’t change the past,” Areus stated.

Cosma nodded and again they fell silent as they ate slowly,
each lost in his or her own thoughts.

“It’s said that he can communicate with animals, that he can
control them. Is that true?” Areus asked.

“Yes,” Cosma told him. “The seer wasn’t mistaken about his
gifts. Areus, when you face him, be very careful. It’s not only his men you’ll
be facing. He can call upon animal allies if driven to it.”

Delia’s stomach clenched and she nearly lost her appetite at
the thought of the coming war, now made even worse by what Cosma had just
disclosed.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do you plan to hold me here indefinitely?” Cosma asked.

Areus’s gaze turned icy again. “Eager to leave home again?
But this isn’t home, is it? Not anymore.”

“It will always be home,” Cosma said. “But I have another home
now too.”

“With Hypatios.”

“I have a cottage on the outskirts of a village in Zaltana.
When Hypatios was young, I lived there with him while he learned to control his
powers.”

“If we’re twins, I wonder why he was born with these
mystical powers but I wasn’t.” There was a hard edge to Areus’s voice.

“I don’t know,” Cosma replied. “But you should be glad you
don’t have such powers. I’ve seen what they’ve done to Hypatios, what he’s suffered—”

“Spare me.” Areus held up a hand. “I truly couldn’t care
less about how much the fiercest General of Zaltana has suffered.”

“Maybe we should talk about something else,” Delia
suggested.

Areus’s brow furrowed, his expression distracted. Clearly he
wasn’t listening to her at the moment.

“What if we’re not full brothers at all?” he mused aloud.

Cosma raised an eyebrow. “I’ve considered that possibility,
but other than your hair color, you look almost identical. Damon had red hair
and in his youth Hippolytos’s hair was as black as ink. Like Hypatios’s.”

“But is that even possible?” Delia asked. “What are the
chances of twins by two different men?”

“It seems our entire family history is strange,” Areus stated.
“If it could happen, it probably did happen.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cosma said. “If you can ponder your
differences, why can’t you at least think about making peace?”

“Because there is no peace with Zaltana,” Areus answered. “And
Hypatios isn’t king.”

“One day he will be.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That’s not a given yet.”

“Areus, this is supposed to be a family meal, not a battle.”

“It was your suggestion, Delia. Isn’t it going as you’d
planned?”

She glared at him. “As I suggested a moment ago, save your
venom for battle.”

His gaze slanted toward her. “Excuse me?”

“I spoke clearly, sir.”

“I just wanted to give you a chance to retract your words.”

Anger churned in Delia’s stomach. She hadn’t been this angry
toward him since they’d first met. How could he be wonderful one moment and an
arrogant ass the next?

“I thought this could be an enjoyable evening, but I can see
you’d rather eat in the stable with your horse instead of with your wife and
mother.”

“My horse is less trouble.”

“You are insufferable.”

Cosma’s laughter drew their attention back to her.

“Is something funny?” Areus demanded.

“Oh you’re Damon’s son all right. The two of you just now
brought back such memories of when he and I were together.” Cosma’s smile faded
and sadness crept into her eyes. “How I miss him.”

“He missed you too,” Areus said softly.

Cosma nodded. “I’m sure he did, in his own way. He never
fully exposed himself to anyone, not even me. Not even in our most intimate moments.
I like to think he loved me.”

“He did,” Areus insisted. “I know he did, but he had to show
a strong front.”

“I know. A strong front is important for a leader.” Cosma
held his gaze. “But even a leader has private moments and those who love him.
It’s not weak to return that love.”

Delia glanced at Cosma. The woman had believed that Hypatios
needed her more than Areus. Perhaps that was true, but Areus could have
benefited from a mother such as her in his life. As a child he had probably needed
her more than even she had realized.

Cosma turned to Delia and said, “Tell me about yourself.”

Not that Delia was eager to talk about herself, but any
change in conversation would be an improvement.

Once she started talking about life in the convent, the
friendship and teachings of the sisters and about her friend Katerina, Cosma
and Areus seemed to forget any bad feelings between them. Soon all three were
enjoying the meal, talking and laughing.

When dinner ended, they sat in front of the fire and talked
more. Cosma told them about the small village in Zaltana where she lived. Areus
filled her in on some of the local gossip she’d missed during her long absence.

Finally, Areus said, “I wish this could last longer, but I
have to rise at dawn.”

Cosma nodded. “I’m rather tired as well.”

“I’ll escort you back to your room.” Areus stood and offered
Cosma his hand.

She took it and they held each other’s gazes. He bent and
impulsively kissed her scarred cheek.

Cosma embraced him and he held her snugly for a moment.

Delia smiled. It seemed inviting Cosma tonight had been the
right decision after all.

* * * * *

Over the remainder of the week, Delia spent much time in the
infirmary, helping Seth prepare for the coming war. She also visited Cosma
often and invited her along when she made her rounds of the village. Areus finally
seemed to accept his mother’s return and spoke to her daily as well.

He came to Delia each night, no matter how late, even if
just to sleep beside her.

The days passed far too quickly and finally it was the night
before he was to lead his army to the border.

He dined with her that night and after the meal he rose to
stoke the fire.

“I have something for you,” Delia said.

Areus turned and gazed at her as she approached and offered
him a small embroidered pouch. Her needlework depicted a red-haired warrior
astride a blood-bay horse, both dressed for battle. The design had been
inspired by Areus himself and Cosmo.

“It’s beautiful. Did you do it?”

She nodded.

Areus opened the pouch and removed a long tendril of her
brown hair. Glancing at her, he reached out to stroke her hair and a smile
flickered across his lips.

“I know it’s not exactly a gift fit for a king,” she said.

“It’s a gift fit for a husband.” He kissed her forehead and lips.
“Thank you, Delia. I’ll keep it with me always.”

Delia sighed and held him tightly. He wrapped his arms around
her and for several moments they stood by the fire, holding each other close.

His arms still around her, they strolled toward the bed. He
placed his gift on the bedside table.

They were quiet as they undressed and Delia wasn’t sure if they
knew what to say to each other or if they had so much to say that they didn’t know
where to begin.

She had removed her clothes before dinner and wore only a
robe that she now unbelted and slipped off. His gaze swept her naked form
before she climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over her.

Delia watched Areus finish undressing. She stared at his
gorgeous, naked body until he joined her in bed.

He lay close to her, his body half draped over hers. Their
gazes locked for a powerful moment, then he nuzzled her neck while stroking her
from breast to hip.

When his mouth covered hers in a passionate kiss, Delia
closed her eyes and grasped handfuls of his thick, curly hair. Their tongues
danced. Soft moans escaped her throat and Areus groaned.

Sliding a hand between them, Delia curled her fist around his
cock and stroked the velvety flesh. His shaft grew firmer in her grip. She pushed
down the foreskin and teased the underside of his cock head with her thumb,
then caressed the crown.

“Delia,” he murmured, kissing her shoulder and neck. While
she continued stroking him, he massaged her soft mound and slid first one
finger, then two into her wet pussy. “I love touching you.”

“I love touching you too, Areus. I wish we could stay like
this forever.”

“So do I.” He kissed her again and shifted more of his
weight over her. Delia released his cock to caress his strong back.

The tip of his cock pushed into her. She was so wet and
ready that he slid in easily. Delia wanted him so much—she wanted him to
possess her.

“You’re so soft,” he breathed against her ear. “Warm.
Beautiful.”

“Oh Areus,” she panted as he thrust into her.

She slid her hands down his back and cupped his tight
buttocks. His hair-roughened legs tangled with hers. Delia arched against him, her
eyes closed and little sobs falling from her lips. Being with him felt so good,
but all too soon he would be gone. She knew he had to leave, but it broke her
heart.

“You’re mine, Delia,” he said, his voice rough, but when she
opened her eyes to hold his gaze, she saw desire and tenderness in his
expression that sent a fresh wave of bittersweet emotions crashing over her.

“Yes, I’m yours, Areus,” she whispered. “Always. Always.”

His eyes closed and he thrust faster.

Delia’s body caught fire. Her heart pounded and her clit and
pussy tingled with almost unbearable pleasure. She burst in the most perfect
climax. Her eyes closed, she clung to him.

He groaned and thrust even faster. Seconds later he surged
into her, his muscles tense and his breathing ragged. He relaxed onto her and
Delia languidly stroked the back of his neck.

“I don’t want to sleep tonight,” he whispered close to her
ear.

“Neither do I, but you need to rest.” After tonight, he
would have little time for sleep and relaxation.

He rolled onto his side and tugged her against him.

“Good night, Areus.”

“Good night.” He kissed her hair. He murmured something
incoherent, yet she thought he called her “love”. A tingle coursed through
Delia. Had he called her that and did he mean it?

Depending on how long he was away, she might not have
another chance to get his baby before the year ended. If she wasn’t with child
by then, he wouldn’t want to end their marriage, would he? She refused to think
about it. After how much they had learned about each other, how much they had
grown to care about each other, she doubted he would want an annulment any more
than she did.

No. Her main concern now was for him to return safely and
for this war to end quickly and with as few casualties as possible. Yet such
hope was naive. Zaltana was the most powerful kingdom in the Western Continent
and Hypatios—Areus’s brother—was his most dangerous adversary.

Five days later, Areus arrived at the border of Lortia where
most of his army had already assembled. The brisk weather hinted that winter
was on the way, but Areus and his men were prepared to fight in any weather, if
necessary. With the reinforcements he had brought from Prem and Drakesglenn, he
now had a sizeable force, though not as vast as the troops from Zaltana. Areus
needed to depend on tactical skills more than sheer power to defeat his
enemies.

Once his tent had been assembled, he spoke with his
generals, then greeted the troops. After his inspirational speech, the
remainder of the day was busy with meetings and reports from spies who had
crossed the border.

That night, Areus lay in his tent, unable to sleep. His
thoughts raced and eventually drifted to Delia. He missed her greatly. It was
strange how he had never depended on a confidant for matters of the heart until
he had met her. It was good to have someone with whom he could share his
concerns without having to appear completely in control.

He took her parting gift that he kept tucked in his shirt, close
to his heart, and opened it. Removing the lock of silky hair, he drew a deep
breath. He closed his eyes, held it to his face and inhaled her scent that
still clung to it. Then he shook his head and quickly returned the lock to its
pouch and tucked it away again.

When had he become so soft? Now was the time for force, for
strength. Not for pining over a woman.

But she wasn’t just any woman. She was his wife, whom he had
grown to love. He wondered if she felt the same way about him.

On their wedding night he had been sure she’d hated him, at
least at first. So much had changed since then. He believed she cared about him
and even liked him, but did she love him?

He wished he had gotten her with child before leaving. A
smile tugged at his lips. As much as they had made love, it was a wonder she
wasn’t pregnant.

Perhaps she was.

Surely she would write to him if she discovered she was
carrying his heir. He only hoped that if she was pregnant, this war would be
over long before she brought their child into the world. He wanted that boy—or
girl—born without the threat of Zaltanian attack hanging over his or her head. He
wanted his kingdom safe and as thriving as it had always been.

When would the Zaltanians attack? Hypatios should arrive
soon. He had never felt so torn about a battle before, both dreading it yet
anxious to meet Hypatios. Was the man as crazy as people said? Though Cosma
swore Hypatios had the power to communicate with animals as well as the dead, Areus
found it hard to believe. Not since Mar Maska over a thousand years ago had
anyone in the Western Continent been born with such strong magical powers. The
only person he’d ever met with such powers had been Sir Blaze of the Ruby
Order. Many people doubted his gifts as well, believing him to be just a
madman. Areus had met the Knight and though different, he certainly wasn’t mad.
The man was exceptionally skilled in hand-to-hand combat as well as healing. Areus
didn’t doubt his powers. Why then did he doubt Hypatios’s? Perhaps because, to
strike fear in his enemies, the King of Zaltana was likely to spread rumors
that his most powerful warrior possessed magical powers.

Still, he couldn’t exclude any possibility. Areus was a fine
tactician. There was little he hadn’t experienced on the battlefield, yet he
had never dealt with magical powers before. If Hypatios was able to use his
otherworldly gifts against Areus’s army, how would they defend themselves?

Sighing deeply, Areus closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

I’ll find a way,
he thought.

I have to.

* * * * *

By the time Hypatios arrived at the northern border of
Zaltana, he had received reports that a sizeable army led by Areus of Lortia
awaited him.

Hypatios set up camp not far from a hill from which he could
see much of the enemy camp.

To the west, on the edge of the forest, stood a moss-covered
cave. Beauty had slithered off on reconnaissance and reported that the cave
housed several thousand bats. Hypatios tucked this information in the back of
his mind as he met with the lesser generals who had been keeping order until
his arrival. He said they would wait longer to attack. The longer their enemies
anticipated, the more wary and fearful they would become. Hypatios had a few
ideas about how to rattle them even more before the battle started.

It was late afternoon when he arrived at the cave. When he
stepped inside, the surge of high-pitched voices in his mind nearly staggered
him, but he quickly centered himself. His eyes closed, he braced a gloved hand
against the cave wall and drew a calming breath.

You’re not one of us, yet you speak to us.

“And you speak to me,” he replied. “I need your help
tonight.”

Why should we help you?

“Many caves in your territory have been taken over by men.
You’ve been driven out, burned out, so they can mine in your caves. Help me and
this one won’t be touched.”

You control the men?

“I’m the future king of Zaltana. I control the men.”

But not the land. The land is ours by right.

“I don’t disagree, but that doesn’t stop men from taking
what’s yours.”

Why should we trust you? You speak to us, but you’re a
man.

“A man feared by my own kind. Much like other creatures fear
you. We’re different species, but kindred spirits.”

We will trust you until you give us reasons not to, but
being a man you probably will.

Hypatios didn’t blame them for being suspicious. Most men
slaughtered their own kind and that was even more true for Zaltanians. As far
back as Mar Maska, Zaltanians had been feared and often hated. Mar Maska, the
legendary king, supposedly had mystical powers as well. According to
Hippolytos, he and Hypatios were descended from his bloodline. Mystical powers
were rare and Hypatios exceedingly gifted. At times he believed his father’s
words, but other times his powers were more like a curse.

His father’s ways often disgusted him. Hypatios had always
preferred the company of his nurses—the old seer and Cassandra—to the king and
the many instructors he had sent to teach him the fighting arts. He fought for
Hippolytos and as long as he continued conquering, making Zaltana stronger, the
aging king didn’t prevent him from ignoring some of the old ways. Hypatios had
even managed to convince him that it was better to assimilate the conquered
instead of killing them.

When he was king, Hypatios would abolish some of the old
ways.

But not now.

Now he still served Hippolytos.

Not to mention he so wanted to meet Areus in combat. Not
from a distance, but up close. Sword to sword. Fist to fist. Blood to blood.

Areus was rumored to be the fiercest warrior in the Western
Continent. Hypatios would squash that rumor when he tore out Areus’s throat
with his teeth.

* * * * *

Areus felt as if he had just drifted to sleep when shouting
roused him. He leapt to his feet, grabbing his sword, and stepped outside to
see the cause of the commotion.

Men ran and shouted, smashing into one another and tripping
over the fallen. Some covered their heads with their hands while others swung
their swords wildly at the thousands of bats swarming the camp.

“What the…” Areus was interrupted by a bat smacking into his
face, then another to the back of his head.

He dived into his tent, which was on the verge of collapsing
from the force of the bats crashing into it. In the darkness, he reached for
his helmet and mail shirt and dragged them on before the tent caved in.

He crawled out and rose, sword still in hand.

“Remain calm,” he bellowed above the noise of shouting men,
screeching bats and flapping wings. “Put on your helmets!”

Several soldiers within hearing distance did as ordered, but
the swarm of bats seemed endless.

Areus noticed a young warrior had been knocked to the ground
nearby, his face covered in blood. Another soldier, blinded by a bat in his
face, stepped on him and fell into yet another man.

His jaw clenched, Areus strode toward the injured youth and
hauled him to his feet. While dragging him toward the relative safety of a nearby
boulder, Areus was nearly knocked off his feet by a burly soldier who slammed
into him.

The entire camp was in chaos for what seemed like hours, but
in reality the attack lasted just moments. When it ended, many men were
hurt—most with minor injuries. A few were seriously wounded, though from being
trampled by other soldiers rather than from the bats.

Panting, Eli approached and said, “I think Hypatios has
arrived, sire.”

Areus nearly growled. “Tend the injured and clean up this
mess.”

He was completely disgusted. Most of these men had faced
death countless times. They had locked blades with their enemies and most had
fought while wounded, but they had never panicked in the manner he had just
witnessed.

Was Eli right in thinking Hypatios had been behind this
attack, or was it a coincidence? A freakish act of nature? Either way it would
serve to instill even greater fear of Hypatios in the men. Areus needed to find
and destroy him. Quickly.

* * * * *

On the hill from which he could see the Lortian camp, Hypatios
sat astride Notus, watching the mayhem.

“Oh dear.” He chuckled. “Our fuzzy winged friends have
caused a stir over there. Areus’s army is so out of control. I had expected
more discipline. Imagine being afraid of a few bats. It seems this will be
easier than I thought.”

You’re a wicked, wicked man.
Beauty curled a bit
tighter around his neck and flicked his cheek with her tongue.

“Like you, Beauty, I believe in using all my gifts to my
advantage. Areus’s men will be quite safe, as will all the residents of the north,
as long as they’re smart enough to surrender.”

Would you surrender?

“I’d die first.”

And if Areus feels the same?

“Then I’ll be glad to oblige him.”

* * * * *

Hypatios’s army attacked at first light. After a nearly
sleepless night, Areus and his men were greeted by the thundering hoof beats
and shrill battle cries of the Zaltanian warriors.

Having recouped from the bat attack, Areus’s warriors were
alert and ready to face human enemies, though Areus worried that last night had
played on their superstitions. He knew many people feared magic, though few
actually possessed such powers. Areus himself wasn’t convinced that Hypatios
had been behind the bat attack. He didn’t have time to consider it as he
bellowed for his mounted army to charge.

Their horses leapt the stone wall that marked their border
and met the onslaught of the Zaltanian army. Areus felt the crush of bodies
against him and Cosmo. Gripping the horse with his legs, he fought with a sword
in each hand.

The horses shrieked and several reared and bucked,
attempting to unseat their riders.

In all his years on the battlefield, Areus had never heard horses
cry as he heard today.

Even Cosmo moved restlessly, but made no attempt to unseat
him.

Blocking yet another hard blow from an enemy who attempted
to pass to his left, Areus realized that somehow the horses were communicating
with one another. He stopped the soldier from passing and pressed on, Cosmo
once again focused on obeying commands.

Finally the equine cries grew softer until the normal grunts
and snorts were the only sounds, other than the clash of steel and the screams
and shouts of the warriors.

Slowly the fighting died down. The Zaltanians retreated and Areus
called for his men to regroup behind the wall.

His heart still pounding from the battle, Areus patted
Cosmo’s neck and spoke softly to the horse whose ears twitched. He dismounted
to inspect Cosmo for injuries. Thankfully, he found none.

Eli approached on foot.

“Were you unseated?” Areus demanded.

“No. My horse has a flank wound and it’s being tended. Most
of our men had little or no problems with their mounts. The soldiers from
Drakesglenn weren’t as lucky. Many lost their horses and were injured when the
beasts went out of control. I sent the ones currently without mounts and who
are still able to fight to the back with the archers.”

Areus narrowed his gaze toward the distance. Other than the
bodies of the dead, there were no Zaltanian soldiers left in sight.

“Sir, I didn’t believe it at first, but we can no longer
deny it. Hypatios has power over beasts.”

“Apparently so do we. As you said, most of our mounts stood
by us. It’s called loyalty.”

Lortian soldiers had reputations for treating their mounts
very well. Areus and his father before him would have it no other way.

“We’ve driven them off, but for how long?” Eli asked.

“Probably not for long.”

“You’re hurt, sire.” Eli nodded toward blood on Areus’s
thigh. His leather trousers were torn where a sword had scratched him. He’d
scarcely noticed the injury, but cursed himself or not being quicker in
blocking the blow. Now that he was fully aware of it, it started to sting a
bit. “It’s not bad.”

“It should be tended.”

“I’ll see to it soon. I want a report of the casualties.
Meet me in my tent to discuss where we stand.”

Eli nodded and walked away.

Once again Areus glanced toward the hill that blocked the
Zaltanian camp from view. He wanted Hypatios’s blood so much he could almost
taste it.

* * * * *

Areus had been gone almost a week and Delia had never missed
anyone as much as she missed him. They had been apart longer before, but there
was something terrible about this separation because she wasn’t sure if she
would ever see him again. What if Zaltana won? What if he was killed in battle?
If he died, the Zaltanians would no doubt kill her as well. Though she feared
the torture and death sure to come, what plagued her most was the thought of never
seeing Areus again. If they could die together, it would be—