by Devon Vesper
“You’re not supposed to, you shit,” Shyvus said. “Pipe down and relax.”
“I’d rather relax with my armor, soaked padding, and soaked uniform off. You know? And maybe wearing a dry uniform. I’m grosser than usual.”
Shyvus came over and shoved his hand between Valis’s armor and his padding. The expression he made was comical, but Valis tried to keep a straight face.
“Yeah. Let’s get you out of that nasty shit. How’d you manage to get yourself this soaked?”
“Sweat from strain,” Valis said weakly. “Fuck. I’m surprised that even worked. It took everything in my power to keep the capsule level, so I didn’t end up atop a mountain of injured or dead bodies if the line went vertical.”
Shyvus paled, but he recovered quickly enough that he shook his head and started unbuckling Valis’s armor. Once he had him mostly out of it all, Shyvus turned him on his side and got everything off the back, too. Then came the padding, and Valis laid there limply as cool air chilled his damp skin and soaked uniform.
It was still cold, as spring struggled to come into full bloom. The constant rains, gray skies, and the reluctant spring season meant for horribly chilly days with freezing rain one day, and overcast drizzles the next, and then frost on days in between.
“Would you strip that soaked shit off him, Shy?” Tavros asked. “I’ve got clean things in his pack. Let me dig them out.”
Shyvus smirked and looked down at Valis from his squatted position next to Valis’s head. “Good thing for you that I’m well versed in undressing men.”
“Don’t make this awkward, Shy,” Valis groaned. “You’re terrible.”
He chuckled as he worked, and once Valis lay there naked, Tavros and Shyvus worked as a team to get him dry and in clean clothing. Once he was dressed, Valis relaxed a little more.
“You’re not going to let me up, are you?” Valis accused. “I’m hungry, tired of laying down, and exhausted.”
“And you should be resting, love,” Tavros said. He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to Valis’s forehead, then his lips. “Try to nap until we get food ready. I’ll wrap you up in your bedroll in the tent and post someone—”
“Me,” Shyvus said in a no-nonsense tone. He straightened his posture and folded his arms across his chest as he made eye contact with Tavros, daring him to argue.
Tavros knew better. “—and post Shyvus at the tent in case you get cold or need anything.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Valis groused.
“Nope,” Shyvus and Tavros said in unison. Tavros patted his chest and used the magical litter to get him into the tent and in his bedroll.
And the truth was, he was so exhausted that the moment the darkness of the tent enveloped him, and the moment everyone left him alone, Valis passed out cold.
When he woke up, he was just barely able to sit up. Shyvus inhaled sharply and scooted closer. “How are you feeling?”
Valis groaned. “Like I got trampled by a herd of horses and half-drowned.”
“What can I do to help?”
Valis stretched and groaned. “Help me up? I have to piss, and then I’d like to sit by a fire and warm up.”
By the time they got to the fire, lunch was almost done, and Valis’s stomach squealed at the smell of their normal fare of some sort of stew. He was pretty sure that today’s menu included rabbit.
“What are we going to do now,” Seza asked. “We need you at your best.”
Valis pointed toward the mountain to the east. “We’re not that far away. I phased us as close as I could before my magic gave out, saving us possibly a couple weeks of travel. I say we stay camped here while everyone recovers. I know from how some screamed in agony that we need to heal both men and horses, and we need to give both time to heal correctly. We can’t afford for anyone to be weak now.”
He nodded toward the fire, then toward the carts that sat near the center of the rings of tents. “We have enough food to last us, especially since I moved us so close. We have supplies to last us. The shields aren’t going anywhere.”
Then he pitched his voice to carry. “We need sentinels at the edges of the shields. We need to know in advance if anyone gets close.” And while he thought of that, he reached for the camp’s shields and added the parameter that anyone inside the shields could see through the invisibility shields and spells of anyone outside of the camp.
“We also need those who are uninjured to help heal injured people and horses. We’ll be remaining here for the unforeseeable future until everyone is back into fighting shape.”
“You’re not in a hurry—”
Valis raised a hand to stop Brogan mid-sentence. “My feelings of urgency and impatience have to be put on a shelf. I can’t afford to take half-healed and stiff forces into what will be the battles of our lives. If I want to make sure my father is rescued and that he makes it home safely, I need to put the army’s needs first. We will stay here, protected, until everyone is healed and rested, regardless of how long that takes.”
He looked around, meeting one pair of eyes after another. “Understood?”
“SIR!”
Chapter Twelve
“Are you certain you are ready?” Shyvus frowned at Valis and stared at him, silently pleading him to change his mind.
“Shy… I love that you care,” Valis said earnestly, “but I’m fine. My magic is mostly regenerated, and I’ve already promised Tavros that I’ll let everyone else cast the pyre spell. While we ride, the reliquary guard and other Aesriphos will be taking over everything except the army-wide shield. That will be my only task, and it’s relatively easy compared to everything else.”
“But—”
“It’s been ten full days, Shy. A full week. I’ve spent most of it meditating and laying around, letting everyone spoil me rotten.” Valis grinned at the men and women standing in a circle around them, listening in and watching the argument. “Not that I minded getting spoiled.”
Their audience chuckled, but some remained serious. Valis not only had to convince Shyvus, but he had to convince most of the other reliquary guards. Valis had no delusions. He knew very well that they would take over command if they thought he was still incapacitated. He also knew very well that leaving the relative safety of the camp if he was still in need of recovery would strip their confidence in his ability to lead. He couldn’t afford that.
“Valis…”
Valis stepped closer and kept his stance open, not daring to cross his arms or look defensive. “Shy… Do you trust me?”
Shyvus winced. “You know I do.”
“Then why won’t you trust me in this?”
His friend sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is arguing with me about things happening inside my body,” Valis said gently. “I promise you, if I thought, at all, that I was still compromised, I would be the first to tell everyone to go back to bed until after dawn. I would not be waking you up to break camp and get ready to ride.”
“I just worry about you,” Shyvus said after a long beat of silence.
“I know you do, and I love you for it,” Valis said. “Everyone’s injuries are fully healed. The horses are fully healed. Everything has been repaired. And I have sat around doing absolutely nothing for an entire week other than meditating and doing language drills with my dad. I checked this morning, and my magic well is full and healthy again. It has been for days, but I wanted to be sure, so I never pushed when you asked before for me to wait ‘just a little longer.’”
Shyvus huffed a laugh, but his shoulders drooped with defeat.
“Shy… I may have a problem with impatience. I fully admit to that. But I promise you, and everyone listening, that this isn’t my impatience speaking. I’m not feeling jittery or as if the world will end if we don’t get moving toward our final goal. I’m not feeling overwhelmed.”
He smiled at Shyvus and stepped just a little closer. “What I am feel
ing is very thankful that I have so many caring friends who are willing to fight alongside me to rescue my father and maybe end this war at the same time. And it’s time to get moving toward those goals. Well… after breakfast. My priorities aren’t completely fucked…yet.”
Those who stood around them laughed at the joke, and even Shyvus relaxed with a wry grin.
Clapping his hands, Valis looked around and pitched his voice to carry while still keeping a note of reverence in his tone. “Okay. If anyone else has a problem with anything, whether it’s my health or anything else, please come take it up with me. I don’t mind. I’d rather have your complete confidence than have you worrying about me or my ability to lead. Please trust that I won’t be upset. Your feelings are valid, and I appreciate how much you all care. It’s humbling, and I couldn’t ask for better, more loving brothers and sisters.”
Valis had to bite his lips when he saw some of the faces turned toward him grow red with embarrassment. Others looked down with shy grins. Most, however, gave Valis knowing looks, and patient smiles. Valis clapped his hands again to get everyone’s attention.
“Let’s get ready for breakfast. And again, if anyone has a problem or concern, please bring it to me.”
Mumbles of assent carried through the group as they broke up. A few clapped Valis on the back of the neck in a show of brotherly support and devotion as they passed. When it was just Valis and Tavros, Valis pulled his husband close and kissed him softly. “I’m surprised you weren’t in there arguing, too.”
Tavros shook his head. “I trust you to know your own body and magic pool. If you say your magic wellspring is refilled, I’ll stand beside you with confidence.”
Valis’s heart remained full as they made their way to and through breakfast. No one came to Valis with problems, and when Valis looked around, the air felt light with the weight lifted that had been so thick ever since the flood. It was about time.
“You’re sure all you have up is the two shields?” Shyvus asked.
Valis laughed. “Yes. I promise.”
Ever since that argument, Shyvus had been half-teasing, half-serious about Valis’s wellbeing. But Valis didn’t mind.
They rode across the valley. The mountains that loomed ahead were still far off. If Valis had to guess, the base of the mountain was about a two-day ride at their current pace. But since they had a few sunny days and a reprieve from the drizzle, and since reliquary guards kept a rotation going to bake the earth they trod upon, Valis and his army were able to vary their gait and ride harder than they had been able to since they left Avristin. Now that they didn’t have snowdrifts to melt that kept them at a steady-but-slow walk, they were able to keep up trots and let their horses expend some nervous energy in a gentle canter since they’d been unable to run and play for months.
Now, Valis wished he could help, but he knew it would only stress his friends out, so he made the most of it by spending time with his father learning a new language and chatting quietly with his husband when he needed a break.
Just as they crested a hill, Valis jerked in his saddle. The second he felt it, he called out, “Vision! Fuck!”
Before the second word left his mouth, Valis’s vision went black, and he felt someone jerk the reins out of his hand. Rasera turned, and someone drew Valis to the side so he wouldn’t fall out of the saddle. Before his consciousness went fully to the vision, he heard a woman with a pretty soprano voice call out, “Help me get him out of the saddle.”
The feeling of falling made Valis’s stomach drop as if he were actually falling a great distance. Perhaps he was. He closed his eyes, or whatever he did in these visions to block himself out, but it didn’t work. When the darkness lifted, Valis stood in a relatively clean cell. Darolen lay helpless on a cot, still too weak to do more than turn his head when Valis’s host closed the door.
The Sovereign Priest of Qos, Kaphir, stepped around Valis’s host and walked further into the room and sat on the edge of the cot. “How are you feeling? You certainly smell and look better.”
Darolen’s lower lip wobbled, but he didn’t say anything.
“I know you are stronger now,” Kaphir said. “You are, however, dependent on my generosity to stay in this cell rather than in the fetid dungeon where you would suffer those sores again, suffer starvation again. I am only kind to those who deserve it, Darolen.”
Valis’s father’s chest heaved with a sob so powerful that Valis felt it in his soul. Darolen was so close to fully breaking. Kaphir must have noticed that, too, because he rested a gentle hand on Darolen’s chest. “I know you realize we have more questions for you. And I know you have been as cooperative as you can. I have heard you are making very good progress. But we need more, Darolen. We want this war to end just as much as you do.”
Darolen shook his head, barely a twitch to either side. Tears ran down the sides of his face to soak into his sideburns and hair before continuing to pool in his ears. Kaphir wiped the tracks away with a handkerchief he pulled from the sleeve of his robes.
“Do you wish me to capture your son? Valis is his name, isn’t it?” Kaphir nodded when Darolen went stiff as the walls that surrounded them. “Yes, the biological son of one of my greatest tacticians. A pity he committed suicide, but there are others to take his place.”
He patted Darolen’s chest again. “But not Valis. No one can take his place.” Kaphir tilted his head and gave Darolen a rueful smile. “At first, we were only keeping you alive to draw Valis here. It would be a waste for you to die now when he is so very close.”
All the blood left Darolen’s face. Gods, all the blood left Valis’s, too, and he couldn’t feel his own body. Kaphir knew he was coming? …Of course, he knew. Fuck. If he was anywhere as good as Thyran, then he might have precognition, too. Or it could be worse. Valis could have accidentally let a Qos adherent go, letting them immediately report Valis’s army’s size and location.
“I see. You were keeping something from me,” Kaphir said. “How did he warn you, I wonder? He has tremendous power from what I have seen. Is it long-distance telepathy? This is possible, and something I use quite often to issue orders to various outposts. Or did he scry to you somehow?”
Darolen inhaled sharply, and Kaphir smiled, somehow managing to keep it friendly rather than victorious. “Ah, I see.”
Darolen swallowed hard and whispered, “Please don’t hurt my son…”
“That all depends on you, now, doesn’t it?” Kaphir asked gently. “If you tell me what I wish to know, I will find a way to turn your son around and send him back to Avristin.”
Valis could hear the lie in the Sovereign Priest of Qos’s tone. He doubted Darolen could with the shape he was in.
“If you don’t tell me what I wish to know,” Kaphir said in a darker tone, “I will wait until he is upon my gate and draw him in just so you can watch him die, tortured in the same manner in which you suffered. You would, of course, be in separate dungeon cells. Tethered to the wall. Sitting in your own filth. Wasting away to practically nothing. But you would each have a direct mind link capable of witnessing each others’ despair and torture, a one-way link to watch those you love die horrible deaths over the course of months, in your case. Valis, however, would most likely last years. Especially if I make certain he’s healed once a month.”
Valis saw the moment Darolen broke completely. His entire body sagged, and he turned his head away—the only way he could even remotely escape the situation. He weakly clenched his hand into a fist, and the way it shook told Valis how hard he was trying to will strength into his limbs to do something, anything, to rid the world of the man sat next to him, tenderly combing his fingers through Darolen’s damp, seemingly freshly-washed hair.
“I will let you think on that. Your afternoon meal will be here soon.”
With that, Kaphir stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his robes and adjusted his soft-looking, slate-gray pants that matched it, drawing out the blue hues in the intricate robes. When he finished
his self-assessment, he adjusted a strap on his charcoal gray boots and headed for the cell door. As he passed, he glanced in the latrine and smacked Valis’s host across the face.
Valis’s host closed his eyes and choked out, “Thank you, Master.”
Kaphir made a dismissive noise before grinding out, “I told you before to make sure his latrine is clean. It looks—and smells—like it hasn’t been cleaned in a week. Do not ignore my orders again, or you will get a dagger to the throat, not a hand to the face.”
He wrinkled his nose and swiftly left the cell, calling over his shoulder, “Stay out of my sight the rest of the day and clean his cell immediately. And, Vern… be gentle with him, or I will find creative ways of dealing with you.”
Valis tumbled as the world went black. It took what felt like hours to stop falling. Then he heard the most beautiful woman’s voice, singing a lullaby. But he didn’t smell a woman. He smelled his husband.
“He’s calmer now. Thank you, Syn.”
The woman chuckled, and Valis felt strong but slender fingers run across Valis’s cheek. “I’m just glad he responded to it. No thanks are needed.”
Valis felt his left side grow cold as she stood. “I will get some of his spiced milk ready for him. You just deal with him.”
“Spiced milk?” Tavros sounded scandalized. “We have milk?”
She laughed again. “I made sure to hide some for occasions such as this when I saw him go berserk over it at the border garrison.”
“He’s going to absolutely love you for that.”
Valis groaned. “I already do. Please tell me you’re not joking.”
All he got was her amused chuckle as she left. Valis still couldn’t see anything, but he regulated his body temperature and breathed in his husband’s scent. “It’s getting worse,” he whispered. “They completely broke him. And they know we’re on the way.”
