Billiam lifted his head from its nuzzling position, to see Micah did look better. Too much better, he thought. “A while for what, my prince?”
“To be myself again. Not to be carelessly happy as before, but to be the real me and to feel more than longing and anger. You help me. Shemmy helps me. However, I know this darkness is still raging inside me. Please, forgive me for it until you’ve helped me chase it away completely,” he answered, kissing the top of Billiam’s head before squirming in pain.
“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Billiam finally realized he was squashing the poor prince and hoisted himself to his knees. He was still sitting above him, though now supporting himself. Micah smiled as he knelt up on his elbows, the physical distress disappearing from his face.
“Not just for squishing you,” explained Billiam bashfully. “I am sorry I didn’t recognize you were struggling. I was just so happy to have you back, I couldn’t see past that. I have been able to live freely the last five years; the only thing missing was you. I didn’t fully realize how hard it would be for you to be missing everything—I should have! I will give you all my time and all my patience. I must say you have seemed happy. Were you not?”
“Of course, Billiam, do not fret! I just meant that I might not always handle emotions or situations the way I ought to. Earlier, I should have been terrified; instead I was only angry and excited. Zan was crushing people to death, and even that made me a little happy. That is not right, that is not who I am. It is the distorted me, created by Aldrious. I do not want to be that for you or for myself.” Micah shook his head and sat up completely. He held Billiam tight before continuing. “All I have been, all I have felt with you is completely genuine. It is all I have ever wanted; you make me so blissfully happy. I too have been greedy. You cannot hold responsibility for all of this. Besides, I am the prince, am I not? You are all my charges. Should anything happen to you, it is on me, alone.”
Tears welled in Billiam’s eyes again. He was so proud of Micah for his resolve, and quite impressed by his level of introspection. I suppose he ought to know himself quite well after going through four years of isolation. We had all assumed he was completely out while comatose, but he was actually quite conscious the entire time. He was simply held motionless by a spell put on him by the cardinal. He could do only two things on his own, and those were sleep and think.
Billiam choked his feelings down, not wanting to burden the prince any further. “Not you alone. You shall never be alone again.” He kissed the prince hard, wanting to somehow pass his love and strength directly into him. Parting, he stood up and pulled Micah to his feet.
He was off grabbing their things: his outfit from the day prior, the quilt tent he made, and finally Micah’s clothing. Billiam was dressing him as Micah spoke. “We should all sleep together from now on, until we reach the City of Alafor. If there are any inns along the way, let us stop there for the night. If we haven’t an inn, we should not indulge ourselves, okay, my love?”
Billiam looked up at him from his kneeling, short-buttoning position, conceded he was quite right, and nodded obediently.
“We shall leave the cart behind now, and Shemmy and I can each ride a horse. You and Zan should be just as quick as us on foot. Should we have Zan map out our camps before we reach them? This way we can know if we will have shelter and properly decide on the most secure location, if we won’t.”
“Yes, of course. He should be quite adept at that,” Billiam replied. He had never seen the prince act so mature. In fact, he had never seen him act in a leadership role at all. He was excited to see it, even if it meant he was to relinquish his control a bit. Micah was the real master after all, and Billiam was grateful that he was going to have a true king to serve.
“Can I get some new clothes too, when we find a town? I need some color!” He wiggled his hips and giggled at the thought. The stoic leader melted away completely as he reached up his arms childishly to be carried.
He was all dressed now, so Billiam obliged. He held him tightly, delighted by every side of his prince that he was shown. He had known Micah all his life, and yet in these three days he had found a thousand new reasons to love him.
Billiam decided he ought not waste any more time and threw Micah from his front to his back. He climbed them down carefully, setting the prince down once they hit ground. He tried his best to shove his things into the saddlebag, yet it was a very tight fit. Their storage was immensely diminished with the cart left behind. His shirt was bulging out of the side, but he conceded defeat and left it as it was. As he turned away, he caught a glimpse of Shemmy. She still looked thoroughly crushed, though distant and no longer crying.
He placed his hand on Shemmy’s shoulder, a bit of encouragement for the poor girl. He was the only one who had not yet offered his condolences, but for the sake of moving things along, he decided he would leave it with just that touch for now.
She surprised him by clutching against his body with both arms and both legs before he could walk away. “My Gam!” she wailed as she hung off of him. Tears fell out of her eyes as she rubbed the snot running from her nose onto Billiam’s shirt.
He stared down in disgust but didn’t interrupt her. He simply patted her head and told her, “I’m sorry, Shemmy. I love you, dear. We’ll make you a new one, yes?” She smiled up at him, her face covered in dried boogers. It was a bit stomach turning, but seeing the light back in her eyes also warmed his heart. With that, Billiam and the two horseback riders were ready to continue on with their trek.
“I’ll do a little clean up, hmm? Go ahead, and I’ll catch up in a bit.” Zan smiled and waved them off exuberantly.
To begin, he grabbed his blade from where it still rested in the scrawny man’s chest. He proceeded to turn the entire cart into splinters and sawdust with it. He gathered these flecks of cheap wood and sprinkled them all over his collection of corpses as if it were confetti. He went to decorate Gam as well, but first leaned into the carriage. It seemed Shemmy had begun keeping most of her belongings in the saddlebag, but what he did see in its belly were a crude rag doll, one of her dirty tunics, and a vial of dark liquid. He collected the items and shoved them into his pockets.
He then threw the sawdust atop Gam and struck a match against the side of his leg. He looked down at the dancing little flame in his hand and whispered to it, “Please destroy the bodies, but do hold yourself back from creating a forest fire, yes?” With that, he dropped the match down and jogged off to catch up with the others.
Zan caught up to them in about ten minutes, smelling of smoke, with a happy look on his face. His mood was better than it had been in ages; he had never known six human lives were all it took to feel so content. He strolled at a relaxed pace next to the speed-walking Billiam and the two trotting horses.
“Zan, please get out your map and study it. I’d like to plan out how long we travel each day and where we will camp. I would like also to stay in as many inns as possible,” instructed Micah, smiling from atop his horse.
“Right, I will do that, Prince. Though, as far as security and such, we might be safer simply picking more discreet locations outside and staying together. Inns mean people, and people mean a chance to be recognized,” my brother explained with a feigned kindness. He pulled the map from his back pocket and held it in front of his face as he walked.
“Yes, well, safety is important. When there is no inn, we shall all stay together. However, I would dearly love some privacy. I have only had my first taste. You wouldn’t truly want to deprive me, would you, Zan? I mean you of all people should understand, as you have had the pleasure of being his as well.” The prince was grinning wickedly and looked over to Zan, startled to see just how disturbed a look grew on his face. Micah meant only to tease, not do whatever it seemed he had done.
“You told him?” screamed out my brother as he angrily shoved Billiam’s shoulder. Shemmy and Micah stopped their horses, realizing a scuffle could be breaking out. It was best they sort it out at once.
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Billiam looked just as shocked as Zan and stared at my brother with no trace of anger. “No, I didn’t tell him!” he shouted desperately, and then looked over to Micah, sincere and ashamed. “I wanted to tell you. I want you to know everything. I was afraid of causing unnecessary tension, so I had decided to wait until we were safe in Alafor.”
Micah was struck by that. He realized that truly no one had told him. How, then, did he know? It was as if he remembered it, not that he was told. Instead, he saw clearly an image of Billiam taking Zan, like he was taken the night before. The prince looked at his lover sweetly, before explaining, “Billiam, I am not upset. I know I am the only one you love. I was just teasing. It’s so strange…. You really didn’t tell me, did you? You just let me know, vaguely, what an experienced man I was to have! I wonder how it is I know? I certainly do know, and it was quite a number of times, wasn’t it?” He felt a little bad embarrassing Billiam further, but he found his bashful squirming adorable.
“Zan, when ya got yerself thrown into me, when I was ’chantin’ the prince, did ya fall in the water?” Shemmy asked nervously.
Zan was very irritated, especially now that it seemed she was insinuating some fault of his own. “No, all I hit was you. I most certainly did not wish for it.” He adjusted his glasses, and then glared at Billiam. To his surprise, he looked sorry for the position my brother was now in.
“Some drops of blood fell in, Shemmy. I remember watching them dissipate into the pretty pink water,” Micah said innocently, as if it were the first fond memory of his new life.
“Oi. Dammit. Contaminated ya, he did.”
“Excuse me, I am not infectious! I am the reason you lot are alive now, am I not?” Zan shouted at her, defensive and enraged. He couldn’t hide his emotions in the least at the moment.
“Aye, sorry, Zan. Dinnae mean on purpose or nuffin’. Anyone’s blood woulda dunnit. What that means, though, is erm… ’e can access your memories. I ’ad read as much, and I fink that’s all it should affect.” She shrugged, acting as innocently as possible as she said it, although she knew full well how damaging those memories would be.
“What the hell?” Zan screamed, punching a nearby pine so hard the thing cracked and leaned to its side.
“Oh, well that’s bizarre. That’s all I’ve remembered so far, anyhow. Did something really embarrassing happen? Is that why you are so worked up? What did you do, Billiam?” the prince teased. He was blissfully unaware of what would soon be dug up and displayed across the canvas of his mind.
“Let’s just get going. I suppose you’ll know whatever it is that’s upsetting him soon enough. Our first time was much more embarrassing for me than it was for him, so I highly doubt it’s that.” Billiam did his best to redirect the conversation and make light of it at his own expense. He struggled with whether he should just tell him and get it over with but decided against it. The prince was already quite emotionally unstable. The longer it took him to remember, the stronger he might become, Billiam conceded.
Micah began giggling uncontrollably. He must have triggered Zan to remember, causing a chain reaction, or he just thought of it on his own. Billiam wished desperately to know how this recollection process was to manifest.
“Oh, poor Billiam!” Micah was barely able to cry out amidst gleeful laughter. He fought it enough to get his horse trotting again.
Billiam and Shemmy followed him, though my brother hung back once again. “I will work on this a bit and then catch up. We should be able to stay in an inn tomorrow night, Your Highness!” Zan yelled, waving the map at them.
“Yay!” My brother heard the prince cheer as they got farther from his line of sight. He could make out Shemmy pestering Micah about his newest memory, but it seemed he was still unable to form words about it. Billiam was mortified but happy that the prince was pleased.
Zan could barely breathe as he stood in shock, desperately trying to look at the map. He could hardly decipher it; either his hands or his brain were shaking fiercely, and he couldn’t tell which. He was firmly aware that when Micah learned what he had done to Billiam, he would want his head at once.
My brother thought again of what Shemmy asked him. Was he a loyal knight, who would submit to death at his king’s hands? Was he a ravenous psychopath, caring only of meeting his own needs? He could see being both wasn’t an option for much longer. He was far too involved with what others would think of his actions, when he should have thought of how they made him feel. Had he thought of that, he may have finally seen he was neither of those things and never needed to be anyhow.
He hurriedly fumbled through his jacket pockets and produced a blank scroll. He kneeled to the ground and began scrawling directions. He wrote out their entire path to Alafor, with all the suggested spots to camp. He wrote out inns and names of terms that might help throughout their journey. He would hand Billiam this scroll and run. He didn’t know where he could possibly go, but he couldn’t stay with Micah. Fighting him off would be no problem, but my brother did not think he could bring himself to do it. He knew any punishment was deserved, but he also wanted to put that off for as long as possible.
Zan finished his scroll and shoved it into his pocket. He gulped hard as he walked in their direction, feeling as though he could very well be taking his final steps.
Chapter 13
May 9th, 989
MY BROTHER procrastinated his journey to the others with painstakingly slow steps at first but ended up sprinting after them. He realized the sooner he got to them, the sooner he could slip Billiam the scroll. He would then distract them somehow, before turning tail and fleeing like a coward. He thought up excuses while running through the pale green pines, his feet staining the recently fallen snow he crunched atop. His only idea of where he wanted to go was somewhere warm. That would have to do for the moment, he decided amidst his panic.
It felt like it took ages to catch up, though it was only a few minutes before they were in his sights. He jogged up to them enthusiastically, but he felt his heart stop upon seeing Micah.
He had forced everyone to halt. “Hello, Zan. Please light a match and take it to that scroll in your pocket,” said the prince calmly, his gaze burning through my brother.
“What?” asked Zan, feigning the utmost innocence. Could Micah learn even his new memories? Or could Micah just read his mind? He was desperate to know what this connection with the prince truly was and sever it immediately.
“I said in so many words, destroy that good-bye letter you wrote us. I am your king, Zan. You cannot desert me simply because you feel uncomfortable.”
“Right, yes, Your Highness.” Zan bowed slightly before grabbing out the scroll he had written so thoughtfully. He watched it become ash in his hand.
“Good. When we reach the camp you picked for us, you will tell me why you were going to flee. If I remember before that, so be it, but you will tell me yourself, regardless. If you dare attempt to insult me again, to deceive or betray me, I will shake the world so I can see you die. I will make Shemmy pull up every tree in the forest, I will have Billiam cut off your miserable head, and I will trample your fucking body with my horse. Are we clear?” Micah sounded just as calm as when he started, but his face was distorted by a dark rage. This was not at all the prince my brother and I knew when we were children.
“I panicked. I honestly thought my absence would be better for everyone. You are right, though. You are the one who should decide my judgment. I know what that will be, however. You will be killing me tonight, Prince.” Zan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, allowing himself to be emotionless, forcing nothing.
He looked over to Billiam and Shemmy, who were both awestruck and horrified. Neither of them could do a thing anymore, nor could my brother. He would simply have to follow Micah until the little lord’s anger reached its zenith, having Billiam execute him. Zan knew this was the only way this could play out and did his best to begin accepting it.
“I will make my own decisions.
Let’s be off.”
With that, my brother’s interruption of their travel ceased, and they continued on. Shemmy grew discontent after a while, tiring of the scenery, a monotonous sheet of white-covered green and gray. “All we fockin’ do is walk. Walk through some woods, walk up a bloody mountain, and walk in the damn snow. Then we eat scraps and sleep on the dirt. I am bored! How much longer?”
“Four nights, five days left if we waste no time. It may be five nights should any situation arise, like today,” my brother grumbled, his eyes never leaving the ground. He was able to force a phony smile, although he felt as if his organs were getting pickled inside his body.
“We shall pick up the pace tomorrow, no more mistakes and no more attempted betrayals,” Micah said with a snicker. He was slightly disappointed that he’d not remembered anything yet. He wanted to be a step ahead of his treasonous charge.
Turning to Shemmy, he smiled and sang to her sweetly, “Shemmy, we will play tonight. I know quite a few riddles, and we can make up stories too. You can even braid my hair, if you want!”
“Yes! Dat sounds marvelous, my lil cream puff!” Shemmy smiled big and felt quite comforted.
Ever since she was a child, she had held a strong connection to the dead. She embraced her family’s legacy as enchanters and was secretly tutored in it from the age of five. The love she felt for the things she enchanted, the life she gave to discarded waste, was a truer, more legitimate love than she could ever feel for the living. Having resurrected Micah, she felt a strangely maternal bond for him. He was her crowning achievement, so sweet and beautiful. Unlike her other creations, he was able to actually love her back. She felt a deep happiness when she saw how much he wanted her to feel better, to enjoy being with him.
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