TheRedKing (34 page)

Hypatios didn’t respond immediately. He gazed past Areus,
then nodded. “Agreed.”

After resting for about an hour, they killed the fire and
continued on their way.

By dawn they reached Brownsfield. Due to the early hour,
everything was still dark. Areus tapped on the door of the tavern and a short
time later, a grumbling little man wearing a moustache and a stocking cap
greeted them with a scowl.

“Who do you think you are, knocking on my door at this
Spiritforsaken hour—” He paused, his eyes wide. “King Areus? Your Majesty.
Forgive me. We heard about the battle yesterday, but I never expected you to be
here in Brownsfield.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you so late, or should I say so early
in the morning, but my companion and I need a room, food, water and bandages if
you have them. We’ll also need to talk to anyone in town who can loan us horses.”

“Straight away, sir. Please come in. I’ll get a fire started
in your room and have my wife bring you food. I’ll send my oldest boy to the
blacksmith. He has several horses in his stable.”

Areus nodded. He opened his waist pouch and removed several
gold coins that he handed to the innkeeper.

“Soldiers came through yesterday evening. They seemed to be
searching for someone. You perhaps?”

“Were they Lortian soldiers or Zaltanian?” Areus asked.

“Lortian and I think one was a Knight of the Ruby Order.
From what we heard, both sides have withdrawn, though we don’t know how long it
will last.”

A short time later, Areus and Hypatios followed the
innkeeper to a small but clean room. A fire blazed in the hearth, a pitcher of
water, a bowl, towels and strips of clean linen rested on the table by the
window. The room had two small beds.

“We’re about half a day’s ride from my camp,” Areus said,
removing his boots and placing them by the fire to dry.

Hypatios did the same. Both men unfastened their waist
pouches and shirts and tossed them aside. Areus glanced at Hypatios, noting the
tattoo on his left shoulder—the one Cosma had spoken of. He had another—the
symbol of Zaltana—on his chest.

Slapping a hand to his upper arm, Areus curled his lip.
“Damn. A tick.” He tossed the offending creature into the fire.

“After trekking through that forest we’re probably loaded
with them,” Hypatios said, his attention focused on his bruised and slightly
swollen arm.

“Broken do you think?” Areus asked.

“No.” Hypatios rolled his wrist, then his shoulder. He held
up his hands and nodded toward the long scars marking his forearms. “Thanks for
these, by the way. I felt like a roast at a feast and you were doing the
carving.”

“You paid me back by ordering that black and red demon of
yours to nearly crush me to death. I can’t even begin to describe what the
surgery I endured felt like, thanks to you.”

“I didn’t order Beauty to attack.” Hypatios’s haughty gaze
slanted toward Areus. “She acted on her own, out of loyalty to me.”

Areus curled his lip, about to reply, but someone tapped on
the door and he opened it.

“Your Majesty,” said a short, plump woman whose graying hair
was wound into a bun on top of her head. She wore a plain brown dress and
carried a tray with bread, cheese and berries. Glancing at Areus’s bare chest,
she blushed, then lowered her gaze. “I’m afraid we only have simple food.”

“It’s fine. Thank you.” Areus stepped aside for her to
enter.

She placed the food on the table. Her gaze roamed over Hypatios
as well, lingering on his bare torso, then shifting to his scarred face. She stared
at the mottled flesh and he stared back hard.

The woman’s gaze dropped and she asked, “Is there anything
else I can do for you, sire?”

“No,” Areus said.

“If you can find one, I need a hooded cloak,” Hypatios told
her.

Areus glanced at him, then back to the innkeeper’s wife and
nodded.

The woman left, closing the door behind her.

“A hooded cloak?” Areus asked.

“When we arrive at your camp, I ask that you keep my
presence secret. I don’t want word to reach my army that I’m with you. I have a
plan.”

“I’m willing to listen.”

“It’s the only way I can think of to ensure peace between us
and end further bloodshed. However if I fail, I’ll be dead and the war between
you and Zaltana will continue, most likely until you’re conquered and
destroyed.”

“As I said, I’m willing to listen.”

Hypatios told Areus his plan while they inspected each other
for parasites from the field and forest. They cleaned and bandaged their
scrapes and minor injuries sustained during the battle and their escape from
the Reed People. It felt strange, assisting each other like friends or real
brothers, having been mortal enemies the previous day.

Listening to Hypatios, Areus found it difficult to believe
that the Zaltanian prince was willing to risk his own life by challenging his
father’s leadership. Still, Cosma had said there was no love between the father
and son. Whatever spirits communicated with Hypatios seemed to have convinced
him of the truth.

Finally bandaged, relatively clean and their hunger
satisfied, Areus and Hypatios glanced longingly toward the beds.

“We’re about three hours from camp,” Areus said. “Do you
need to rest longer?”

“Not unless you do. I think we should leave as soon as
possible.”

“Agreed.”

Half an hour later, Hypatios and Areus mounted horses
supplied by the blacksmith and headed for Areus’s base camp.

Areus and Hypatios arrived at his camp by midday. By the
look of the men, many injured, the battle had been fierce. Areus spoke briefly
to a foot soldier and ordered him to alert Eli of his arrival.

Even before they reached Areus’s tent, Eli approached, Sir
Blaze at his side.

“Sire, we’re glad you’re alive,” Eli said.

Areus asked about the outcome of the battle and the status
of the army, then he asked about Cosmo.

“Your horse was injured, but he’s been patched up,” Eli said.
“We took several Zaltanian horses, including Hypatios’s blood bay.”

Areus glanced at Hypatios whose face was shadowed by his
cloak.

“What’s the stallion’s condition?”

“Excellent, sire. None the worse for wear, but he’s hard to
handle. He bit a man’s shoulder and kicks anytime someone gets close to him.
He’s a fine piece of horseflesh, but he’ll be difficult to break.”

“Let him be for now.”

“Who’s this?” Eli asked, nodding at Hypatios.

“Come to my tent. You as well, Sir Blaze. I’m sure my guest
will interest you in particular.”

Inside Areus’s tent, Hypatios removed his hood and shrugged
off his cloak. Beauty rested lazily around his neck.

Eli stared at him, aghast. “Is this who I think it is?”

“This is Hypatios,” Areus said.

Eli’s hand flew to his sword.

Beauty raised her head and hissed, but Hypatios caressed her
sleek black-and-red body, speaking softly to her.

“The bridge between beast and man,” Blaze said, his gaze
fixed on Hypatios. “The one who speaks to souls. The Black King.”

Hypatios tilted his head slightly and studied Blaze with
interest. “I’ve never met anyone who shares my talent for speaking to the
dead.”

A faint smile tugged at Blaze’s lips. “Until now.”

“You have three spirit guides,” Hypatios observed.

“The scholars. They are close to my heart.” Blaze touched
his chest and bowed his head for a moment, then lifted his gaze to Hypatios.
“You have a plan to bring peace.”

“Either peace or death,” Hypatios replied.

Eli’s brow furrowed. “What plan? Sire, what are they talking
about? All this mysticism is unbearable. Give me combat with a living,
breathing man instead.”

“We want to bring peace to the Western Continent,” Areus said.
“You and Sir Blaze are about to be privy to our plan, but it must be kept
secret if it’s to work. I know I can trust you both.”

Over the next hour, Blaze and Eli listened intently to Areus
and Hypatios.

When they finished, Eli said, “Sire, with all due respect,
what makes you think we can trust him?”

“We can,” Sir Blaze replied. “The scholars have never led me
astray.”

“Forgive me, Sir Blaze, but the rest of us can’t speak to
the scholars,” Eli reminded him. “Sire, do you actually trust the Prince of
Zaltana?”

Areus gazed at Hypatios. Green eyes, almost identical to his
own, stared back.

“We have to,” Areus said. “At best there will be peace. At
worst, we’ll continue our war.”

Eli turned back to Hypatios. “All right. Say you are telling
the truth. What you propose is suicide.”

“No, it’s possible,” Blaze commented. “Though difficult.”

“Hypatios and I will be leaving for the castle once we’ve
rested. Eli, you’ll remain in command here.”

“I’ll go with you and Hypatios,” Blaze suggested.

Areus nodded. Blaze had originally traveled here as an
advisor for dealing with Hypatios. Now, more than ever, his skills as a
mediator would be useful. Blaze’s willingness to trust Hypatios eased Areus’s
mind more than anything else.

“We need to get some rest,” Areus said. “We still have a
long journey ahead of us.”

“Where shall we hold him?” Eli nodded toward Hypatios.

“He’s not a prisoner,” Areus declared. “And his identity
must be kept secret. He’ll rest here with me and we’ll leave camp after dark.”

Eli looked skeptical. “Again with all due respect, sire, I
don’t fully understand your reasons for trusting him. What’s to prevent him
from slitting your throat while you sleep?”

“If anyone should be concerned it’s me,” Hypatios said. “I’m
alone in the enemy camp.”

“I will not leave my king to sleep, vulnerable, with the
likes of you.” Eli glared. “I will keep watch while you sleep.”

“As if I would sleep while you keep watch,” Hypatios
retorted.

“Peace, everyone. Peace.” Blaze held up his hands. “I will
keep vigil here while the parted branches rest. Agreed?”

“Yes. Agreed,” Areus said and turned to Eli. “Dismissed.”

“But, sire—”

“I don’t repeat orders.”

Eli bowed his head and reluctantly left the tent.

“Before I sleep, I’d like to see my horse,” Hypatios said.

“A passionate warrior, your mount of blood and coal,” Blaze
observed.

“Do you always talk like this? In riddles?” Hypatios asked
with a curl of his lip.

Blaze shrugged. “My guides’ influences.”

“You speak that way because of your connection to the
spirits? You really do have a problem, don’t you?”

The Knight’s calm blue gaze met Hypatios’s fiery one. “Not
nearly as bad as yours. Your steely mask hides something broken beneath.”

Hypatios sneered. “Burned. Not broken.”

“I’m not referring to your flesh. You’ve done well, having
been twisted by a wicked spirit since the moment of your birth, but it’s kept
you from the truth.”

Anger flashed across Hypatios’s face, but he mastered it and
replied coolly, “Perhaps.”

“I believe you want change, but a sword won’t hold its form
until it’s removed from the heat. When you’re ready, come to me. I’ve been with
the wicked spirits, but none quite like yours.”

Hypatios’s brow furrowed. “You would…assist me?”

Blaze nodded.

“Why?”

“Because right now I can see what you can’t. You can make
Zaltana what it never was before, what it was meant to be, but not if you fear
yourself.”

“I don’t fear myself,” Hypatios scoffed.

Areus, who had been observing the exchange between his
brother and the Knight with interest, saw a shadow of himself in Hypatios. He
hated to admit weakness, just as Areus did, yet he began to realize that in
itself was a weakness.

“Put on your cloak. We’ll go to your horse and also to mine.
I want to see for myself how bad the damage is to Cosmo.”

Hypatios put on his cloak again and they left. After
checking their horses, they returned to the tent and lay down. They had been
awake for nearly two days straight, during which they had fought a battle,
hiked as captives through the forest and escaped the Reed People. Areus was
bone tired and he didn’t doubt Hypatios was as well.

Still, they stared at each other suspiciously, even with
Blaze seated nearby, reading a book.

Areus wasn’t sure which one of them fell asleep first or how
long it lasted before he woke to Hypatios groaning and gasping. Areus jumped
awake, his heart pounding, and reached for his sword.

Hypatios struggled in his sleep and murmured, “White
warrior. Father. No, Cassandra! Mira. No!”

Blaze knelt beside Hypatios, shaking him hard. “Hypatios!”

The Zaltanian prince sat up fast. His hand shot out, his
fingers like claws as they reached for someone only he could see. Then his eyes
opened wide and he lowered his hands. His chest heaving, he shut his eyes for a
moment and pressed his fingertips to them.

With a sigh, Areus lowered his sword.

“Are you well?” Blaze asked, his hand resting on Hypatios’s
shoulder. The prince shrugged him off, glaring.

The Knight moved back, giving him the space he craved.

“I’m fine.” Hypatios raked a hand through his hair.

“Who’s Mira?” Areus asked.

“The lady of the forest,” Blaze said, his voice almost a
whisper.

Hypatios glanced sharply at him. “What do you know about Mira?”

“Only what the spirits tell me. That she dwells among the
trees. She wiped your blood. Soothed your pain.”

“Shut up,” Hypatios growled.

“Considering Sir Blaze is probably the only person in this
camp who actually seems to feel compassion for you, you might try being a
little more pleasant to him,” Areus said.

“I couldn’t care less about compassion,” Hypatios snapped.

Ignoring him, Areus went on, “You said her name just now.
Mira. White warrior. Cassandra. Your father.”

An icy expression swept over Hypatios’s face, but Areus
sensed that it was inspired by shame.

Blaze and Areus watched Hypatios carefully.

“What are you staring at?” Hypatios practically growled.
“Don’t either of you dream?”

“Often and vividly,” Blaze replied.

“I’m not surprised,” Hypatios said.

Neither was Areus.

The brothers settled back into their respective blankets and
Blaze returned to his book.

Having spent time with Hypatios outside of battle, Areus started
to glimpse the man beneath the mad warrior, the Zaltanian prince. For the first
time he started to understand why Cosma had left Lortia to aid Hypatios. Just
as he had been too harsh with Delia, Areus had been unduly harsh with his
mother as well. For all his fierceness in battle, Hypatios was as tormented as Cosma
had said. Without her, Areus didn’t want to think about what his brother might
have become.

* * * * *

The convent where Delia had grown up stood on a hilltop
overlooking a small village located just a few miles from the borders of Lortia
and Drakesglenn. A high stone wall surrounded it, but its three towers
stretched above them. The sisters who dwelled there worshipped the Spirit, as
did many people of the world, including most Zaltanians. The interpretation of
the Spirit’s teaching varied worldwide and the sisters’ religion was a peaceful
one. Much like the Knights of the Ruby Order, they believed that they served the
Spirit best by lending aid to others. Because they were nonviolent, the sisters
fulfilled this duty by healing, feeding and sheltering those in need. They also
preserved history by keeping detailed records in a vast library located in the
convent.

As Delia approached, familiar sensations filled her. She had
thought that when she returned to the convent, she would feel she had finally
come home. Instead she felt homesick for Lortia. More than anything she wished
she and Areus were back at the castle together. She wished he was safe and
well.

She, Echo and the two guards assigned to them paused outside
the gate. Gazing through the iron bars, Delia saw several of the sisters hard
at work in the garden.

Sister Bina, one of the youngest members, noticed the
visitors first and hurried to the gate.

“Delia! Echo!” She smiled upon seeing her old friends and
opened the gate. “It’s so nice that you have time to visit us. I never would
have expected it with the war going on.”

“Bina, it’s so good to see you.” Delia embraced her, as did Echo.
“Where is Sister Agatha?”

Agatha was the head of the convent.

“She’s in the library. I’ll take you to her.”

By then the other nuns had left the garden to greet the
visitors with welcoming embraces and many questions.

“How long can you stay?” Bina asked.

Delia’s smile faded. “That’s what I want to speak to Sister
Agatha about. I want to come home.”

“Oh Delia.” Bina looked grim. “What about your husband? He
wasn’t…killed in the war?”

A sick feeling swept over Delia at the thought of Areus
dying in battle. “No. At least not that I know about. It’s a long story and I
would like to speak to Sister Agatha about it.”

“Of course. I—”

“Delia!” Katerina shouted, racing down the steps that led to
the double wooden doors of the convent, her maid jogging after her.

Katerina hugged Delia hard and kissed her cheek.

“I can’t believe it,” Katerina exclaimed, her dark eyes
aglow. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Delia said truthfully and squeezed
her friend once more.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story and I must speak to Sister Agatha before
I do anything else.”

Katerina grasped her hand. “I’ll take you to her.”

On the way to the library, Delia asked, “How is everything around
here?”

“Same as always.” Katerina raised her eyes to heaven, then a
wicked grin tugged at her lips. “But the village cattle farmer hired several
new hands and a few of them are quite handsome.”

Delia grinned and shook her head. It seemed nothing had
changed around here, including Katerina’s carnal passion.

In the library, Sister Agatha stood over a long wooden
table, looking over a thick history book. A rangy woman with strong features
and steel-gray hair partially hidden by the brown veil worn by the sisters, Agatha
carried herself regally. It was rumored that she had once been a princess
herself, but came to the sisterhood as a young woman. Upon seeing Delia, she
appeared surprised.

“Sister, may I speak to you in private?” Delia asked.

Noticing the seriousness of Delia’s expression, Agatha
nodded. “Of course. Join me in my study.”

They passed through the library to a small adjoining room
also filled with books. A table stood near the window overlooking the village.

“It’s good to see you, Delia,” Agatha said, once they were
seated at the table. “But I’m surprised.”

“I know. I should have written to ask permission—”

“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.”

Delia sighed deeply. “I had hoped you would feel that way.
Sister, I want to come home.”

Agatha’s gray eyes widened a bit. “Has something happened
between you and King Areus?”

“He doesn’t want me. I’m not his vision of an ideal queen.”

“No one can be anyone’s ideal vision. We’re all too human
for that.”

“I’m afraid Areus doesn’t take human weakness into
consideration when it comes to ruling Lortia.”