The Regent's Knight

by J. M. Snyder

  Then Amery pulled him from the bath. As he broke the surface of the water, Tovin gasped for breath and found his lover’s mouth on his in a resurrecting kiss.

  Chapter 8

  When the water began to cool, they climbed out of the tub. Tovin first—he grabbed one of the towels that hung over the top of the screen and held it open, enveloping Amery as the regent stepped up to him. Another towel he used to dry himself with rough, fast motions while Amery sat on the page’s chair beside the screen, huddled in his towel, waiting. Finally as dry as he was likely to get, Tovin replaced his towel with a thick robe. The regent’s robe had his crest on the left breast; this larger robe had once belonged to the king, but Amery had long since nicked it from his father’s chamber for Tovin’s use.

  Taking Amery’s teal robe from where it hung on the corner of the screen, Tovin draped it over his lover’s shoulders and rubbed some warmth into the wet skin. “Put this on or you’ll get sick,” he instructed. The castle was too drafty to parade around after a bath, and the bedroom’s fire muttered low in the hearth, barely warming the room.

  Without a word, Amery complied. He snaked his arms into the robe, then drew it closed around him, over the towel. Squatting beside his chair, Tovin took one of Amery’s feet in both his hands and rubbed it dry with his own towel. His hands were gentle, his touch loving, his fingers massaging as he wiped between each toe and around the sole of Amery’s foot, then around his ankle, then up his leg to his knee. When he was finished with the first leg, he moved to the other. He was halfway up Amery’s left calf when he heard a muffled sob above him.

  He looked up to find Amery’s robe pulled to hide his face. Though he couldn’t begin to understand what might be bothering his lover, Tovin dropped the towel and took the regent into his arms. “It’s all right,” he murmured, smoothing his hand along Amery’s warm back. “Shh, love. It’s not so bad.”

  “I hate this,” Amery spat.

  Tovin knew he didn’t mean this tender moment between them—the regent hiccupped, trying to compose himself, but only seemed to cry harder. He clung to Tovin with a desperation that scared the knight. “It’s grown late, Your Highness.” Tovin hugged him close, as if that would help stem his tears. “Tomorrow will be a better day.”

  Sniffling, Amery wiped his eyes on Tovin’s shoulder and sighed. “I’ll not take the crown,” he announced. His fists clenched in Tovin’s robe, keeping him near. “Not if I must lose you in the bargain. I cannot do it.”

  Tovin grinned. “You can’t live without me,” he teased. “I know.”

  But Amery didn’t find that humorous. “I can’t.” He sat back just enough to allow him to stare into Tovin’s eyes; his gaze was earnest, enhanced by his tear-streaked cheeks. “I will not take that crown.”

  Weariness filled Tovin—he didn’t want Amery to take it, if he were being honest, but that was selfish of him and he had long ago promised himself that when the time came, he would support whichever decision his lover made. The people needed a king, the land needed one, more than either of them needed to be happy. Tovin would protect Amery to the death, whether or not he slept with the man. In a perfect world, he’d love the regent regardless of the crown.

  But the world beyond the regent’s chamber was far from perfect.

  Gently, Tovin pointed out, “You’re made for the crown, Amery. You are the regent, you say it often enough yourself. Eventually you must take it.”

  “I’ll die.” Amery shook his head, flinging the hair from his face. “I shall kill myself before I wear it. With your blade if I must.”

  Tovin saw something wicked flash in his lover’s eyes, a gleam that seemed to like that suggestion. With a sigh, the knight pointed out, “Then your court will think I did it. They believe we hate each other as it is. If you die by my blade, I will hang a murderer.”

  Amery fell silent. His eyes dulled, and a slight pout tugged at his lips. Then another thought struck him, and he grasped Tovin’s hand in both of his. “I shall write a note—”

  “Most of your servants cannot read,” Tovin pointed out. He wanted to laugh at the crestfallen look on the regent’s face, but tamped down the urge, waiting to see what his lover came up with next.

  “I shall have someone with me,” Amery muttered, half to himself. “Bellona, perhaps…”

  Now Tovin did laugh. “She’d plunge the blade into your heart for you, and twist it out of spite.”

  Amery shook his head, discounting her. “My page, then.”

  “And terrorize the boy?” Tovin joked. “Surely he’s much too young. He’ll be rendered speechless by the shock of it, unable to tell a soul.”

  The regent punched his shoulder in anger. “Stop shooting down my ideas, Tovin. I will not take that crown.”

  “What about me?” the knight asked. When Amery looked at him, Tovin gave him a sad, exaggerated pout. “What would happen to me if you died? How would I go on?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Amery told him, “Well, I would hope you’d never take another lover. In fact, I forbid it.”

  “You’ll be gone,” Tovin countered. “Who’ll stop me?”

  Exasperated, Amery cried, “Tovin! I’m trying to be serious here.”

  Rising to his feet, the knight ran an arm beneath the regent’s legs, the other behind his back, and swooped him into his arms. Amery clutched at Tovin’s robe and laughed, a boyish sound that dispersed their gloomy discussion. “Remember when I cut my leg that time?” he asked, holding onto Tovin tightly as the knight carried him to the bed. “How old was I, like twelve?”

  “Eleven.” Tovin remembered the moment with perfect clarity—the five of them had been playing by the moat, racing across the open drawbridge with a thundering noise only teenage boys could make. Amery tripped on the bolt that held the rusty metal chain to the bridge, and when he regained his footing, the right leg of his breeches had been dark with blood.

  Tovin reacted before the others even realized something had happened. Without a thought, he scooped the prince into his arms and raced across the bridge, holding Amery close. Spurred into action, their friends flew past them, into the castle, calling for a physician. To this day he could still recall how Amery had felt in his arms, so frail, like a wounded bird; he could remember the boy’s grimy scent, the stuttering heartbeat against his, the hand that pulled at his hair in an effort to hold on.

  Crown or no, Tovin would not lose those memories, or this man. He couldn’t.

  Lowering Amery onto the bed, Tovin lay down beside him. Amery’s head rested on Tovin’s chest, and he opened the robe a bit to press his lips against the knight’s neck. “I don’t want this to end,” he whispered. “Not ever.”

  Tovin smiled as he kissed Amery’s temple. “You’re the regent,” he replied. “Isn’t your word law?”

  “You mock me,” Amery sighed.

  “I try,” Tovin purred. His next kiss landed on Amery’s cheek. “Pretend for a moment you don’t take the crown—”

  Amery interrupted him. “I won’t! I refuse.”

  Tovin kissed him quiet. “Listen. If you don’t, where would you go?”

  There was no hesitation in the regent’s voice. “With you.”

  “I would have to leave the military,” Tovin admitted. The thought bothered him, but not as much as he once believed it would. Until this moment in time, he had never realized it, but a part of him must’ve known all along that his livelihood as a knight would have to be discarded if Amery abdicated. Funny how he found that he had a plan already on the tip of his tongue, ready to share. Laying back against the downy comforter, he hugged Amery close and wove a dream for the two of them. “In the southland, my sister owns an inn. Just outside Konstas. For years she’s been trying to sell the place, but no one has taken her up on the offer.”

  Seizing the dream, Amery suggested, “I could buy it. Now, or tomorrow, rather. I’ll dispatch a courier to sign the deed.”

  Tovin grinned. “I’m just talking out loud here,” he murm
ured. “Tomorrow you’ll have a good night’s sleep behind you, and you’ll forget all about giving up the crown.”

  “No.” Amery tried to sit up but Tovin held him down, so he settled for turning his face up to search his lover’s. Lowering his voice, he promised, “I’ll not lose you. There is nothing in this kingdom worth that price.”

  Tovin rested his forehead against Amery’s and stared into his lover’s eyes for a long moment, gauging the man he saw inside. He could tell by the determined set of the regent’s jaw that he would never be crowned. But theirs was a forbidden love, and he knew many would not allow it to continue much longer. If Bellona suspected their relationship enough to voice concerns to the regent himself, then Tovin knew the royal adviser would soon take matters into her own hands to get what she wanted.

  And, like the rest of Pharr, what she wanted was a king. A mere knight like himself could hardly stand in her way.

  Tovin nuzzled closer and pressed his lips against Amery’s ear, whispering, “If anything should happen to me—”

  “Like what?” Amery pulled away and frowned, his hands touching Tovin’s face. “Nothing will happen to you. I won’t let it.”

  Tovin kissed Amery’s fingertips and sighed. “If it does,” he tried again.

  But Amery interrupted him. “Like what?” he demanded. “Tell me, Tovin. If what happens? You’re stationed here, leagues from the northern border. There is nothing to harm you here.”

  With a shrug, Tovin hugged Amery to him again. “Not just that,” he replied. “If there’s a siege maybe, or a rebellion, or I don’t know, anything at all. Someone killing me to force you to take the crown—”

  Amery gasped in shock. “They wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t know,” Tovin told him. When Amery tried to pull away a second time, Tovin held him tight. “Listen to me. If anything should happen, to either of us—”

  “It won’t,” Amery said, stubborn. His hair tickled Tovin’s chest as he shook his head.

  Tovin sighed. “If it does,” he said, and when Amery tried to argue, he covered his lover’s mouth with his hand. “There isn’t much time before you will have to choose and you know it. I am the only thing that stands between you and the throne. Eliminate me and your choice is clear.”

  Amery shook his head furiously, but Tovin kept his hand over his lover’s mouth, silencing him. “If you still refuse the crown, your damned advisers will probably kill you, too, just out of spite. Bellona would, at least. So don’t let them corner you. I will protect you as much as I can, Amery, I swear it. And if we’re meant to be together, I know something will come up, some way will present itself. It has to.”

  Beneath his hand, Amery nodded. Kissing his ear, Tovin lowered his voice to mere breath as he sighed into his lover, “If something happens—to me, to the castle, anything at all that puts you in danger—I want you to run. Do you understand me? Don’t stand and fight. There’s a sluiceway that runs beneath the castle—” Amery licked Tovin’s palm in an effort to get him to remove his hand, but Tovin simply laughed at the gesture. “Stop it and listen.”

  “I am listening,” came the muffled reply.

  Amery’s eyes were shiny and large above Tovin’s hand; the knight pressed his lips to his lover’s ear again. “Stacia’s is the last inn when you ride through Konstas. Two days’ journey from here with a fast steed.” He waited for Amery to nod before he continued. “There is no need to buy the place—I know my sister, and much as she complains about that inn, part of the reason she’s had no buyers is that she refuses to sell. But she knows of us. If you ever find yourself free from the castle, go there. She will see to it you’re kept safe until I can find you. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Amery replied as Tovin removed his hand. “But nothing will happen.”

  “Perhaps not,” Tovin said, snuggling closer to his lover. “But if it does, you run. Don’t be contrary, just this once, please? Go to Stacia’s, and when I can get away, I shall find you there.”

  “Okay,” Amery whispered. With a grin, he added, “Just this once.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, Amery stretched himself awake. Fading dreams blurred his mind, lingering images of Tovin in him, loving him, holding him tight. But when he reached an arm out for his lover, he frowned to find the bed beside him empty. “Tovin?” he called. It wasn’t too late in the day. The knight should still be in his chambers…

  “I’m right here,” Tovin assured him. His voice carried in from the sitting room, and as Amery settled back against the pillows, his lover came to stand in the doorway between the rooms. His breeches were already tied into place around his waist, and his heavy boots echoed off the stone floor with each step. As he shrugged on his surcoat, he winked at Amery. “Morning, glory. You looking for me?”

  “Come here,” Amery said, patting the blankets. “I command it.”

  Tovin laughed at that. “You command it?”

  Amery sighed. There was a playful banter in his lover’s voice that told him no amount of cajoling would get Tovin back between his sheets. With a pout, Amery tried, “Tovin…”

  “I wasn’t made castellan to spend my days in your bed. There’s a war to be fought,” the knight reminded the regent. “No amount of pretty pouting will turn the Cyrians around.”

  “Are you sure?” Amery teased. “Maybe if I ask real nice—”

  “No,” Tovin replied. Crossing the room, he leaned down to give Amery a quick peck on the cheek. When the regent turned, trying to catch that kiss on his lips instead, the knight pulled away. “There is work to be done, Your Highness. I have a castle to defend. Get your royal ass out of bed.”

  With another sigh, Amery kicked the sheets away. The knight’s eyes widened at the sight of so much taut, nude flesh, and Amery allowed himself another languid stretch so his lover could see just what he was missing by not returning to the bed.

  But Tovin was a stronger man than Amery—despite his greedy stare, he restrained himself. Only a faint tremor in his fingers as they buttoned his surcoat belayed his desire. As Amery lay amid his blankets, displaying his nude body for his lover, Tovin sighed. “What a glorious sight. Too bad I must get to work. Tonight—”

  “I have to wait that long?” Amery cried.

  With a laugh, Tovin turned and headed back into the sitting room. Amery climbed off the bed and, naked, followed the knight. When Tovin retrieved his sword from where it lay on the floor, Amery took it from him. “Let me,” he said, securing the knight’s sheath to his waist. “You’re so dashing in armor.”

  “That won’t get me back into the bedroom,” Tovin warned.

  Amery laughed. “I know. Your duty calls. Duty which I assigned.” He kissed Tovin hungrily once, twice, and the third time the knight staggered back against the door beneath the regent’s insistent attentions. “Tonight,” Amery promised.

  “Until then,” Tovin agreed. His last kiss lingered on the regent’s lips long after the chamber door closed behind him.

  Chapter 9

  Tovin had a million things to do before he would consider the castle safe from attack—there were fortifications to check, ramparts to secure, a weak guard to whip back into shape…

  And you shall think of the regent throughout the day.

  Absently, he touched his hand to his face, where he could still feel the ghost of Amery’s mouth against his. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw Amery stretched out on his bed, his lithe, nude body begging for Tovin’s touch. The evening when they could be alone again would not come soon enough.

  He had been tempted to take Amery up on his offer—just spend the day in his lover’s arms and let the others worry about the war that rumbled like a thundering cloud on their northern borders. Berik and Lohden would take care of the Cyrians, he knew it, and Giles’s men would have no trouble stifling the few who dared to come into the kingdom from the west. Couriers had been dispatched the previous day, racing for the southland with news that would bring Tovin’s own troops storm
ing to the castle. Within three days at the most, his own men would fill these empty corridors, weapons at the ready. Nothing could bring down these stone walls, nothing.

  Tovin would see to that.

  But until he had those extra men under his command, he would stay wary. As they had cuddled in the regent’s bed the night before, Tovin had gone over directions on how to get to the abandoned sluiceway that ran beneath the castle. He repeated them, over and over, forced the regent to repeat them as well, until they both felt comfortable about the plan. Now if an opportunity would just present itself…

  The sluiceway was naught but an ancient piece of masonry, one they’d played in as children, one even he had forgotten about until he found it again while studying the castle maps. It ran straight beneath the garden where he’d first met the young prince, all those years ago. It was in that same garden where they’d first shared an experimental kiss, the beginning of a lifetime of kisses, when Amery had been a young boy barely fifteen years of age, a scrap of the man he’d become, but already beautiful in Tovin’s eyes.

  Despite the passage of time, the knight could still remember the nervousness that had churned his own stomach, and the way the regent’s hands had twisted in his tunic. They’d huddled together in the shade of an old birch tree, out of sight from the castle. After the brief crush of their lips, Amery had sighed and flashed Tovin an anxious smile. “You taste sweet. I bet you hear that all the time.”

  “You’re my first,” Tovin admitted.

  Amery’s eyes went wide. “No. You’re so much older than me.”

  Tovin laughed. “Who else do you think I’ve bothered to kiss? Lohden? Giles?”

  Laughing himself, Amery suggested, “Berik.”

  But Tovin waved that away. “He’s too damn hairy for me. I like you.”