by Aldrea Alien
On the murky edge of his vision, Darshan spied the blurry figures of others entering the arena. The clank of chain mail reached his ears before he could make out their uniforms. Castle guards.
Darshan stiffened. If anyone amongst them recognised him…
The man stood between him and the woman. One grabbed the sword from her, hefting it even as he restrained her. “Nae it’s not, lass.” With one hand on her shoulder, he guided the woman away from Darshan.
Giving a sour grunt, she jerked out of the guard’s grasp and strode off into the crowd mingling at the gate. Flanked by the men the whole way.
Only when she was well beyond reach did Darshan finally let his guard drop. He had made it through the first trial. One down.
Winning this contest seemed just a fraction more feasible.
~~~
Hamish gripped the rail. It was all that stopped him from rushing into the arena to embrace Darshan. He couldn’t look too favourably at any one victory least it drew his mother’s suspicion. He did it. His lover had bloody won.
His heart had almost given out when the sword had slammed into Darshan’s ribs; an incapacitating blow had the blades been sharpened. Yet, his lover seemed well now. Had Darshan actually managed to heal himself so swiftly or had the blow simply not been as vicious as it had looked?
He hadn’t missed the wind that circled through the crowd, moving like no breeze had ever done within the castle grounds. Had anyone else? Nae likely. No other spectators would be on the lookout for magic.
Making sure that he didn’t seem any more pleased with the outcome than other duels he had witnessed today, Hamish worked his way along the arena railing. If he timed leaving, then he might be able to spend a brief moment in the tent with Darshan to ensure his lover was fully healed. And ask if the man was aware of what the next trial entailed.
He barely registered a figure striding into his path before bumping into them. “Sorry, I—”
They grasped his shoulders in a familiar hold, keeping them upright as they stumbled. “Steady on,” his brother said. “Anyone would think you’ve places to be.”
Hamish shook his head. Of all the people to collide with. Had Gordon been watching the outcome? He had paid only mild interest at the rest of the duels. Would his brother’s attention on this one be noted as peculiar? “I ought to knock your teeth in.”
Gordon’s eyes widened to their fullest. “What did I do?”
“You ken exactly what you’ve gone and done.” Hamish folded his arms. “Tell me, where do you think the Udynean ambassador is right now?”
“I saw him wandering the grounds yesterday, but…” His brother’s gaze flicked to the arena, but both victor and loser were gone. He shrugged. “I’m sure he’s around.”
Hamish leant on the railing. “Closer than I think? I hear you’ve been keeping him occupied.” He turned his head slowly as if the crowd didn’t bother him. A fresh pair of contestants had entered the arena and no one seemed to be paying their princes much mind. Nevertheless, he lowered his voice. “And victorious.”
His brother’s brows rose. “Is that so?” He clapped an arm around Hamish’s shoulders, gently turning him from the railing. “Did you catch that last one’s wee tantrum?” He roared over the cheers from the crowd. “They nae looked impressed in being defeated at the first hurdle.”
Hamish stuck to a curt nod in case his voice was drowned out by the cheers.
With a steady squeeze on Hamish’s collar, his brother quietly guided him away from the arena. “How about I help you get ready for tonight’s dancing?”
Hamish winced. The last thing he wanted to do was dance with the very women he was trying to avoid marrying. He had evaded mingling with them last night by feigning weariness. He couldn’t get away with it again so soon. Not without the clans speculating on his health. “I can ready meself well enough.”
“Right you are.” Giving him a pat on the back, his brother turned to leave.
“Oh and Gor?” He grasped Gordon’s middle finger, bending it back until his brother winced. “You let your mouth run off with your good sense again and I really will thump it back into place.” He released his hold and continued walking through the crowd with Gordon keeping pace at his side.
“So I take it you do ken who’s competing under the Dathais banner, then?” Gordon enquired once they were away from the bulk of the crowd. A few people still mingled between the arenas, but none seemed at all interested in anything beyond their own conversations or hurrying to watch a duel.
“You set Dar up under your wife’s old clan?” he hissed. Some of the tension creeping into his body relaxed, replace by hollow dread. Whilst no one would think it strange for Gordon to witness how his wife’s relatives faired in the contest, it also ran the risk of piquing their mother’s interest with each trial Darshan completed.
One side of Gordon’s shoulder lifted. “Their chief sent word that they’ll nae send anyone else to the slaughter. I figured I could sneak him in without anyone howling, so I lifted the message before Mum could see.”
“Hiding clan missives? Muireall would’ve kicked your arse for that.” Hamish made a show of rolling up his sleeves. “But since she’s nae here, I guess the honour’s all mine.”
Gordon shuffled sideways a few steps, his hands raised in surrender. “Are you nae impressed with your big brother’s ingenuity?”
He was, but admitting that also meant having to deal with Gordon strutting around like a young rooster. “We have nae idea how badly Mum will react when she finds out.”
“We’ve got two more trials to worry about first.”
“And how much have you told him about those?” By the Goddess’ good name, he still hadn’t figured out how Darshan was supposed to navigate the forest run when he saw so little without his glasses. And if he got hit? “Have you even given a thought as to what might happen if he doesnae make it?”
“He’s smart enough to work out what the last trial entails, archery in Udynea cannae be that different. As for the other… I figured I’d see how he faired here first before worrying him with details.”
Combing his fingers through his beard, Hamish groaned. “Have you at least had him try his hand at archery?” How much experience had Darshan confessed when it came to wielding a bow? Minimal.
“Nae as yet.” His brother arched a brow in his direction. “Thought I might ask a master.”
Hamish let his breath out in a long blast. “Tomorrow morning, then. Bring the lads. We’ll school him on the forest run and archery at the same time.” With Gordon and his nephews at his side, no one would think twice on them vanishing into the forest beyond the clan encampments.
Of course, he’d be a fool to think he could get Darshan ready to compete against what would assuredly be skilled archers in a day. But if his lover lacked as much knowledge as he claimed, then he could teach him enough to have people thinking he wasn’t completely inept.
It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.
Darshan wove his way through the crowd, his ears still ringing with the band’s blaring. He had heard plenty of stories of how noisy Tirglasian music could be, but such rumours had done nothing towards preparing him for the monstrosity they dared to call an instrument one of the musicians had trotted out halfway through dancing. The wailing and screeching of beastly thing as the man blew into what looked to be a flute still permeated Darshan’s senses.
Some forewarning to vacate the area before they had begun would’ve been nice.
He gave an almost absent nod to Gordon as he casually slipped by the man and ascended a winding flight of stairs to the mezzanine overlooking the castle’s great hall. His feet tingled slightly at the new movement, his healing magic tending to the aches brought on by excessive dancing. One of the women had literally dragged him into a line that still cavorted.
A little notice on that also would’ve been helpful.
He halted at the top of the stairs. The mezzanine was cloaked in shadow. No o
ne had thought to light the torches adorning either side of the space and the thick panes of the single window had darkened with age and a thin layer of grime.
A perfect place to harbour the person it currently cloaked in such darkness.
Hamish leant against the railing with his back to the sole entrance. His lover hadn’t been here the whole time as Darshan had caught the man joining in during the less hectic dances. He had even seemed to enjoy the festivities, although apparently not anymore as the curve of his broad shoulders suggested a certain weariness with the display of dancers and music below.
Whilst it was tempting to heed the mischievous urge to surprise the man, Darshan took pity on his lover’s nerves and merely cleared his throat.
Hamish spun. That gorgeous blue gaze alighted on Darshan for a heartbeat before widening and darting about the mezzanine.
“I do hope I am not intruding.” Darshan’s boots thumped alarmingly loud as he strode across the bare floorboards. “I thought you might like the company.”
Seemingly convinced they were still alone, Hamish relaxed against the railing and shook his head. “You’re blending particularly well with the shadows tonight.” He waved a hand to indicate Darshan in his entirety. “Nae seen you in anything beyond pale colours before. It’s an imposing look.”
Darshan ran a smoothing hand over the black-dyed silk of his sherwani. It had a different, more modern, cut to the others; a little shorter and more open at the thigh. Bits of obsidian and jet had been woven into the dark embroidery and black pearls accented the buttons. Imposing? Not enough to stop women from approaching him for a dance. “I thought, given the nature of the celebrations, a sombre change of pace was called for.”
“Few would agree with you on this being a solemn affair.”
Indeed not, for the band continued on with their torture of that dreadful screeching instrument; harsh on his ears even at a distance. The musicians stood in the centre of the great hall whilst the dancers circled them in ever-widening rings. The dancers trotted a few steps one way, then the other, all in perfect unison. Their laughter and cavorting joined the clamour.
“You seemed to have enjoyed yourself down there,” Darshan said once the cacophony of jumbled notes they dared to call music had stopped. “Although, your dancing was a little on the stiff side.”
Hamish grunted. “I havenae danced like that in a good long while. Nae since Muireall died. Me dance partners were fortunate that I remembered the steps.”
A fresh wave of music drifted up like a hazy melody. Familiar in tune, if not the dance the crowd had paired off to twirl to.
“Then perhaps you need a different type of partner.” Darshan gently entwined their fingers and pulled them closer together. “One who will take the lead?” The faint aroma of the bitter alcohol his lover fancied reached Darshan’s nose. Had he imbibed a few draughts for courage?
Hamish glanced over the railing. With the hall in full light, no one seemed to pay any mind to them; two shadows in the dark. Nevertheless, uncertainty clouded his lover’s face.
“There is no one up here but us,” Darshan gently reminded him. “I rather doubt anyone can see us from below and your brother guards the only entrance.” Ostensibly, to keep any competitors from embarrassing themselves before Hamish. “I am quite sure we can manage a little dancing without causing a scandal.” All night, he had yearned for just one twirl with his lover. A few steps in the dark was likely the best he would get whilst still in Tirglas.
That would change once he got Hamish home, even if he had to drag his lover out into the middle of the dance hall. He had grown so weary of keeping everything secret.
“One dance,” Hamish whispered.
Darshan gently led Hamish through the steps, mindful of keeping any foray near the railing brief lest the unlikely chance the sharp eye of an elven servant actually caught them. His lover followed smoothly enough, allowing him to increase the speed with each four-measure beat until they’d caught up to the music.
Risking a little twirl towards the balustrade, Darshan glanced at the cavorting below. Last night, Queen Fiona’s guards had been in full force. They’d shadowed Hamish, lingering in the man’s presence like a bad smell. “I’m glad to have found you so easily. How ever did you get your mother’s guards and escorts to leave you be?”
“Me mum called them off.”
Shock almost had him mistiming a step. He recovered, sweeping them further from the railing. “How fortuitous.”
“Nae really.” He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned about the end to an issue Darshan clearly recalled the man panicking over just a few weeks back. “It doesnae matter anymore, nae now the union contest has begun. She kens I’ll marry whoever wins before I risk a civil war.”
Darshan gnawed on his lip. With the festive air in the hall, it was hard to imagine the dread hanging over this competition like a shroud. The bit that pained him the most was how right Queen Fiona was. If Darshan didn’t win, then his lover would marry one of the others.
He just couldn’t see Hamish living long after then.
“I’ve nae danced with a man before,” Hamish said, drawing Darshan back from his thoughts. “Am I doing it right?”
Forcing a smile, Darshan swallowed the bile threatening to vacate his stomach. “I would never be able to tell had you not told me. You have yet to stand on my toes or anything else so ungainly.” He grinned. “Unlike some of the others I have danced with in the past.” So many of the men he chose were used to leading and it was often their first time in letting another take the reins.
His lover’s soft gasp of laughter warmed Darshan’s cheeks and creased Hamish’s eyes. Not once did his gaze leave Darshan’s face. His eyes almost glowed in the faint light. Like a fire burning through the night that refused to go out.
My flame. Darshan reflexively wet his lips. What was it his father used to say about eternal flames? “You know all those chaotic feelings people equate to love?” he mumbled, aware that his face was growing hotter with each word. “The fluttering, the sick to your stomach nervousness?”
Hamish bowed his head. “Aye, I ken that feeling well.”
“My father used to say none of that happens when you are with your eternal flame.” That was supposedly how a person was to know they’d found the right one. He’d never believed it possible until now. “You just feel warm, like basking on a midsummer’s day. Only in here.” Darshan tapped his chest. “All the chaos in the world starts to make sense. You can live your whole life in darkness and never know what that is truly like until there is light to judge it by.” He could see it all: the path, the choices, leading him to Hamish. “For good or ill, you are my flame.”
His lover halted and Darshan’s heart almost followed. Was it mere coincidence that they’d come to a stop near the doorway? Or did Hamish plan to leave? Had he pushed too hard? But his lover knew how Darshan felt.
Hamish bent his head.
Those soft lips brushed Darshan’s and he gave not a second of thought towards answering in kind. The taste of bitter alcohol sat thickly on his lover’s lips. Darshan cared nothing about that either.
His legs wobbled. He patted the air behind him. Was there not a wall somewhere nearby?
His fingers met the smooth surface of worn stone. Coaxing Hamish to follow him as he took a few steps backwards took little convincing. Through it all, their kiss remained the same; warm, tender and bursting with emotion.
Hamish broke the kiss first. They stood there, Darshan leaning against the wall and pinned by his lover seeking the same means of strength to remain upright. For a while, they merely shared silence and breath.
Then, like a giant and affectionate cat, Hamish rested his forehead against Darshan’s. “This feeling has a name, then?” he whispered, his voice husky and raw. “So what is an eternal flame? Other than a mortal who got turned into a crown jewel?”
He remembered? Gods, he must’ve told Hamish that tale several weeks ago. Back when things seemed somewhat less co
mplicated. “Araasi’s lover was just the first Flame Eternal. The priesthood believes each person only gets one, that we can love others just as much, but there’ll only be one soul we ever truly, deeply connect with.”
“And you think that’s me?”
“I know it is.” How cold and parched he had been. How had he not have noticed it before? His whole life he’d been dying of thirst and hadn’t even recognised it until stumbling upon this oasis.
Darshan stared out over the railing. Little could be seen from this vantage point, but he could hear the cavorting. “I am going to take you away from all this. I will win.” Duelling one-on-one with limited access to his magic had seemed the trickier task. Two more to go. He just had to keep reminding himself of that and not think on how he wasn’t quite sure what to expect from one and he was uncertain he could manage the other. “I am already a third of the way there.”
A small smile tweaked his lover’s lips, although there was a distinct lack of spark to his eyes. “You are. And I dinnae think I’ve congratulated you on being victorious in your duel.” He laid a broad hand on the side Darshan’s duelling opponent had struck him. “How are your ribs?”
Darshan rolled his eyes. Had the man learnt nothing from his conversations on healing magic? “They are completely fine. Did she break them? I believe so. But—” he swiftly added before Hamish could voice his concerns. “They were already fused back in place before I could take another swing.” Admittedly, that was also due to the breather he had inadvertently managed to garner.
“I wish there was another way.” Hamish scratched at the base of his neck, disturbing the chain holding the ruby heart he would gift to Darshan after the second trial was over. “I dinnae like the idea of you getting hurt because of me.”
“I am fine.” He gave his side a hearty thump with his fist. “See? Nothing.” Unable to fully decipher Hamish’s expression, Darshan pressed on. “What is the worst that can happen in the next trial? A sprained ankle?” Or I get lost. He shook the thought loose with a shake of his head and cupped Hamish’s jaw. “I will be fine.”
