King of Blades

by Ryder Bailey

  Jaimathan was stunned and shamed by the story. One of his own ancestors had been that cruel? Why had he never heard of this before?

  "I am deeply sorry for the actions of my family in the past," he told her with feeling.

  She smiled. "You do not need to hold yourself responsible for the actions of others. You did not commit the crime, and you will be the reason it is forgiven."

  "Then I thank you," he declared, "and I swear to you that something like that will never happen again, not without punishment."

  Tahirah bowed her head. "You are honorable."

  ***

  It was evening before Wildas could visit Coulta again. He took dinner in Coulta's room with all of his spouses. Because of the splints, Coulta couldn't eat on his own, so Wildas helped him.

  While they ate they all filled each other in on the events of the last few days. Wildas had heard most of what Anil and been through, and they had heard some of the details of the battle through him, but Coulta wanted to hear everything from all of them. He, in turn, told them about his duel with Kemale. Wildas tried not to listen, because he simply couldn't stand to hear the details of what had nearly killed his husband, but he wasn't cruel enough to leave the room or even the bed where he sat beside Coulta.

  "I'm sorry for making all of you worry," Coulta finished. His voice had gotten quiet and he spoke gently. "I won't go over that with anyone anymore. I already told Shelton not to ask me to repeat the story. I don't want to feel what I felt then again. The fear that I would never see my family again, but the acceptance of knowing I had to save you all. Because I love you."

  Wildas glanced up at him and saw the tears in his eyes, and he wasn't the only one. He saw Anil wipe away her tears with the sleeve of her dress and he heard Myri sniff quietly. Wildas wiped his own tears away and went to Coulta. He brushed Coulta's tears away and kissed him softly.

  "No more," he murmured. "Don't go through it anymore."

  Coulta nodded. "Never again."

  Wildas gave him one more soft kiss, then took his seat again. After a moment of silence he did his best to change the mood of the room. "The entire city turned out to see the Shifters off."

  "I heard that," Myri commented. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. "It seems they went from unwelcome guests to heroes to most people."

  "With good reason," Wildas agreed. "They were quite the great allies."

  "And the Asirim," Anil added. "Even I can feel their beautiful, strange power."

  "I would like to meet them before they leave," Coulta told them. "If I'm out of bed by then."

  Myri stood and walked over to him. She took his hand and closed her eyes. Wildas assumed she was examining him magically.

  "I may be able to reduce your splints," she finally said. "But they are leaving tomorrow and I don't know if I can do it that soon. You've healed slightly since I first saw you, but you still need some splinting to keep your bones from healing incorrectly. Smaller splints with tight binding should work, as long as you keep both arms in slings."

  Coulta nodded. "If I'm not moving farther than my office that should be acceptable. I can use magic instead when I need to."

  "I would heal you more," she explained, "speaking of your magic, but I'm running out of it. And you are in absolutely no condition to give me more."

  "I won't argue with that," Coulta replied. "But, on another note, is there any possible way someone could help me bathe? I'm fairly certain I still have blood and dirt on me, and even though it hurts to move I'm starting to itch."

  Myri smiled. "I think we can manage that."

  Together the three of them did manage to clean Coulta up. Anil took charge of getting the bedding changed for soft, clean sheets and pillows, and got extra warm, soft towels brought up with the hot water. Myri brought out an herbal soap to help with healing, and helped Wildas carefully move Coulta to the bath. Coulta was in obvious pain while they bathed him, though Anil tried her best to sooth him. Her magic could only do so much when his discomfort was more physical than emotional it seemed, however.

  Eventually, they got Coulta clean and dry, and carefully moved him back to the fresh bed. Wildas was stunned by the amount of bruising he saw under the black twisting marks of Coulta's magic. There wasn't an inch of Coulta's body that wasn't bruised or scabbed or scarred. The jagged white line across Coulta's abdomen was the most frightening of all the wounds. It could be seen clearly despite the black marks that continued over it as if it had always been there.

  Myri changed out the damp splints and bandages for clean and dry ones, then covered the rest of Coulta's body with healing salves while she brewed a tea for him. It wasn't until after Coulta had finished the tea that his pain appeared to ease and he promptly fell asleep.

  "Yes, I meant for him to sleep," Myri murmured to Wildas. "He needs it."

  Wildas sat with him into the night, watching as the easy, induced sleep became troubled. Coulta didn't quite move in his sleep like he did during nightmares, but he was still clearly having restless, pain filled dreams.

  Once more, Wildas found himself longing to help heal the emotional haunting that plagued his husband. An idea finally came to him as he moved to soothe Coulta. He just wasn't certain anything would come of it.

  But he had to try.

  The next day the Nairs were set to leave. They had spent most of their time chasing away the looming shadows from the necromantic magic that had filled the capital for so long, and also talking to the Algomans. Wildas hated to delay them after all they had done, but he needed to.

  "I have one final request," he said when he met with the queen of Nairiume and her court for their farewells. "Is there any advice you could give me that could help my husband?"

  "Your soul-partner?" Tahirah replied. The surprise must have shown on his face because she smiled. "Yes, we can sense these things. I also wished to see him before we returned home. I can feel his haunting and I believe we can help him."

  Wildas felt like he was nearly drowning in relief. "Thank you. I will take you to him."

  ***

  Coulta was trying not to cringe while Myri bound his new splints. He had been disappointed to not be able to see the Nairs out of the city, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

  Myri had just finished his second arm when Wildas entered the room. He was dressed for court and was followed by a tall dark-skinned woman in a fine silver dress. She continued to follow him to the bed where Myri acknowledged her with a nod of the head. As they got closer Coulta was able to see the intricate silver marks on her skin that reminded him of his own black ones.

  "Coulta, this is Queen Tahirah of Nairiume," Wildas said. "She wished to see you before leaving."

  Coulta dipped his head. When he glanced up both Wildas and Myri were leaving the room. "It's an honor to meet you. We owe you for much."

  She smiled softly. "You did more than your share, as well."

  And, because the herbs Myri was using for his healing had clouded his mind slightly, he asked, "Your skin?"

  "It is very hot and dry in Nairiume," she answered simply, somehow not sounding offended.

  He shook his head. "I'm sorry. The marks, I meant."

  She smiled again. "Unlike yours, these are placed on us by each other. We use hot needles and special ink. The symbolize our lives by our partners, children, and status."

  Coulta didn't expect to be told all about another's culture, so he simply nodded and asked no more. So his marks really did come from his curse then and had nothing to do with the magic of the Asirim.

  "I have come here to free you of your haunting," she declared after a quiet moment.

  He looked up at her in surprise. "You can do that?"

  "Of course," she replied with a nod. "Would you like that?"

  "Anything that can free me of the nightmares."

  "This will."

  She stepped closer and placed a gentle hand on his forehead. He closed his eyes when he felt the energy around him change. A fee
ling of calm surrounded them, and for some reason he could see the color of silver magic even with his eyes closed. Her voce was soft and distant when she spoke.

  "May the spirits who haunt this man find their peace and release. You do not need to linger here. It was not by his choice that he killed you. He is as innocent as you. Another's absolute power controlled him then, but it does not do so now. Can't you feel his guilt and regret? Have you not had your revenge often enough? Has he not suffered for the crimes he was forced to commit? Has he not said time and again how sorry he is to have ended your lives so cruelly? Do you not want your own peace as well? Move on and leave him free. Join your families and friends who reside in the Spirit Realm. Come now. Leave his soul."

  Slowly, a feeling of ease came over him that he had never felt before. Not even the peace of Tahirah's presence or the comfort of Wildas in his dreams could compare to the utter tranquility that grew within him. It was as if he could even breathe easier.

  The silver faded and he opened his eyes. Tahirah was smiling at him.

  "Do you feel better?"

  He laughed. "I feel better than I think I have ever felt. Thank you."

  "You are quite welcome," she told him quietly, then turned to go.

  Coulta wished he could move his arms to wipe away his tears.

  ***

  The Algoman guests left the day after the Nairs. Shelton bid them farewell with Yvona, Wildas, and several other members of the court in the castle yard. Not only had Jaimathan helped to save the souls of many of the people of Ryal and weaken the necromancers, Fae had shown the people how to make a type of porridge common among the Shifters. It allowed them to use the oats still in plentiful supply without having to grind them into flour for bread without the mills. The oats became soft in water and were mixed with dried fruits and spices. It would be a great help to the people until the mills could be rebuilt.

  Most of the city turned out to line the streets as they had when the Shifters and Nairs had left. The people of Ryal knew how to honor those who had saved their lives and their city. Shelton prayed they would have a safe journey so they could take up their thrones in Algoma.

  Later, back in his office, Shelton was considering what next to go over with Wildas. New naval ships had already been contracted for production and in the meantime two merchant ships had been purchased to be refurbished. The news had been sent out across the country that the navy needed new recruits, as well, all because they couldn't leave their shores defenseless. The city of Riem was to be relocated and renamed. Nothing much was left of the original city destroyed by the forces from Dyrai. All guilds had been granted three months of tax-free operation to compensate, as much as possible, for the members who were killed defending the walls and who were no longer contributing to the finances of the guilds.

  There truly weren't many more pressing issues to attend to.

  "Shelton."

  He looked up to see Deandre's ghost approaching. His breath caught in his throat.

  "Jaimathan is leaving," Deandre told him. "The door between the realms is closing. I can't stay long." The ghost placed a hand against Shelton's cheek. "I love you. I'll be waiting for you, but stay here as long as you can. You deserve a long life. I will always be waiting, no matter how long it takes."

  Shelton nodded, fighting back the thought that he had almost joined Deandre very recently. "I'll stay as long as the gods allow. I love you."

  The sensation of lips ghosted over his own, then vanished.

  He was alone.

  ***

  It took several days before Myri finally admitted to Wildas that Coulta's father had been injured in the battle.

  "I wanted to wait until he was recovering well," she explained.

  "Coulta or Markiel?" Wildas asked in reply.

  She shrugged. "Both, I suppose. If he had died I would have told Coulta, but with Markiel injured it wasn't as if he was going to leave before Coulta could visit him."

  "I'm not sure Coulta would want to visit him," Wildas pointed out.

  Myri nodded. "I know. Which is why you should talk to him. It's only right that he sees his father before Markiel leaves. He's planning to as soon as I clear him."

  Wildas sighed. "I'll try."

  Coulta was being slowly moved away from bed rest. He still wore splints on his arms, but most of his bruises and cuts had healed. Myri claimed his healing was speeding up as magic built up again, but she had exhausted her borrowed powers and couldn't examine his arms internally anymore. So he was forced to remain splinted until they were certain he was healed.

  Wildas spent as much time as he could with Coulta, even helping him bathe regularly. He'd noticed Coulta seemed even happier than he ever had. Though Wildas had seen him smile and laugh more as Coulta had settled in to life with their growing family, ever since speaking to the queen of Nairiume, Coulta had seemed even happier. He smiled so much more, even confined to his bed, and he didn't move restlessly in his sleep. It seemed the Asir had truly cured him of his haunting.

  "Do you know anything about my father?" Coulta asked while Wildas was helping him bathe, catching him completely unprepared.

  "Actually, yes," Wildas admitted. "He's alive, though he was injured and has been in the care of the healers. Myri said he'll soon be allowed to leave. Do you want to see him?"

  Coulta took a deep breath. "I don't know. I'm glad to know he survived, but I just don't know if I can see him again."

  Wildas nodded and finished washing Coulta's hair. "It's your choice."

  "I know," Coulta replied.

  Wildas carefully helped him from the tub and wrapped a towel around him. "Don't think about it for the moment," he suggested, then leaned in to kiss him softly. "It's time to rest and sleep."

  "And not have nightmares," Coulta added.

  "And not have nightmares," Wildas agreed. He dried Coulta off and helped him into bed. Then he undressed and slipped into bed with him.

  "I need to get rid of these splints," Coulta commented when he tried and failed to put an arm around Wildas.

  "Soon," Wildas assured him. He moved closer himself and slipped an arm over Coulta. "You know what Myri said."

  "But my left arm doesn't hurt at all," Coulta argued. "And my right is only sore at times."

  Wildas kissed him lightly. "Tell her that tomorrow."

  "I plan to."

  Wildas took a deep breath and inhaled Coulta's clean scent. He'd missed being this close to his husband, and he cherished the fact that Coulta was even still alive. Without thinking, he moved his hand to Coulta's stomach where the harsh scar still stood out under the marks of his magic. He could feel the raised ridge of tissue that made up the scar across his entire body. Silently, he ran his fingers along the scar, barely touching it but wondering at how lucky they all were that he was still with them.

  Coulta shifted and, despite the splints, he ran his hand along Wildas's side until he found the scar that marked it. The scar was from the blade of the assassin who had stepped in to finish the job Coulta was failing. The blade had been tainted with a torturous poison that put Wildas in extreme, never-ending pain until the counter-poison was administered. Had that counter-poison not been given, he would have bled to death from every pore of his body. Before they had become lovers, or even knew they were soul-partners, Coulta had nearly lost him. They had nearly lost each other too many times.

  Wildas lifted his head and pressed a breathy kiss to Coulta's neck. "No more."

  "No more," Coulta agreed softly. "I love you."

  "And I love you," Wildas replied. "More than words can even say."

  ***

  It took less arguing than Coulta had expected to get Myri to remove the splints completely the next morning, as long as he wore a sling for his arm that was still sore. She also finally agreed that he could leave the room as long as he was careful not to injure himself again. He allowed Ralix to help him dress when she had gone, then he made his way to the healers' room, stopping only briefly to see Shelt
on. Supposedly the healing room was where his father was still staying for the time being.

  He wasn't sure when exactly he had decided to see the man. Perhaps hearing that his father had been injured worried him despite how much he wanted to hate him. Perhaps it was because of the lack of troubled souls haunting his dreams. Perhaps he had always wanted to see his father again.

  Myri didn't seem surprised to see him there. She didn't even ask if he needed anything, just motioned to a private room. Wildas must have told her he'd given Coulta the news.

  Markiel was sitting up on his cot and writing in a book. Coulta closed the door behind him and simply stood staring at the man who had caused all the pain and happiness in his life.

  Markiel looked up and became very still. "You look well," he finally commented.

  Coulta nodded. "So do you."

  "You killed Kemale."

  "I had help," he quickly explained. "I couldn't have done it without Shelton helping to weaken him."

  "Still," Markiel argued, "you're a legend now. I'm proud of you, for what it's worth."

  "Thank you," Coulta replied with a nod.

  They were quiet for a long moment. Coulta looked the older man over and noticed some of the features he was used to seeing on his own face. But those eyes were deep gray and his black hair was almost the same shade.

  "Where will you go?" Coulta finally asked.

  Markiel shrugged. "I've been wandering since you were born. Even leaving you, I kept wandering. I've picked up work in Algoma and Berk, as well as here in Phelin. No place has called me back yet, but there are places I've never seen. For now I want to see the mines where they dig for the legendary Altmyr material. I've heard it's a stone with properties of metal, but I've never seen it."

  Out of habit, Coulta had requested Ralix secure his sword belt around his waist. He stepped forward and carefully drew a large dagger from its sheath. Though it was awkward to turn it over with one hand, he offered it to his father. "Altmyr," he said in answer to the curious expression on Markiel's face. "All my blades are made of it. A gift from Wildas. His cousin made them."