Indeed, Liv grew timid just being on a horse, making her mount dance, before she found her bearing and was able to ride, though only sedately.
And she would drop due to vapors at the very thought of racing around an arena, or anywhere, like she was competing with the very wind.
And winning.
Soundly.
These thoughts plaguing his mind, he strode down the steps, through the tent flaps that were held open by servants, and when the young boy came to him immediately, he grunted, “Whiskey.”
“Sì, signore,” the boy mumbled and dashed off.
“Cassius! Here!” his father bellowed from his place in the middle of the crowded tent where he appeared to be attempting to hold court in a land where he had no courtiers to dance attendance.
And he’d decided not to bring any of his wives so they could perform that duty.
Therefore (likely due to habit, the man did it so bloody often), he wished to make his son dance.
Hearing his men order their own drinks around him, Cass muttered to any one of them who might be listening, “When was the last case of royal patricide in Airen?”
“History lessons are far past, Cass, but if memory serves, it’s been over four hundred years,” Hadrian answered.
The boy returned with his whiskey, Cassius took it, lifted it to his lips, but before he threw it back, he remarked, “I’m already making history, marrying a Nadirii. That said, I’m beginning to fancy lengthening my section in the Go’Doan history books.”
Then he tossed back the entirety of his drink. That accomplished, he instantly put his bottom lip to his teeth and whistled low.
The boy, who was rushing away, darted back.
Cass handed the glass to him. “Another.”
“Sì, signore. Subito.”
Cassius waited until his men had their drinks, and he had his own refreshed, before he moved with purpose, turning his back on his father and striding to a corner of the tent.
His men came with him.
“Even if you ignore her, she is still here,” Severus noted as they all positioned, his men fanning out around Cassius, their backs to the tent, Cass’s back to the corner.
“I’m well aware of that, Rus,” Cassius replied.
Hadrian was studying him.
Cass knew what he saw.
And as was often with Ian, he didn’t hesitate to share anything, including the fact he read Cassius well.
“You might never have seen her, but she’s Nadirii. You had to know she’d be much different than Liv,” he said carefully.
“I’m also well aware that I’ll be bound in wedlock to a woman who is not my wife, Ian,” Cassius ground out before throwing back a healthy dose of his drink, which was, owing to the astuteness of Mars’s servants, twice the amount as his first one.
“Can we now talk about—?” Mac started.
“No,” Severus, Hadrian and Antonius said at the same time.
“Right,” Macrinus muttered, grinning into his glass of wine at his lips.
With a flurry of self-importance, his father joined their group, rounding his men to come to stand at Cassius’s side.
“What are you doing standing here?” he demanded to know.
“Avoiding you,” Cass told him.
Gallienus’s eyes narrowed before he declared, “We must speak.”
Cass lifted his brows when his father said no more.
“I’m sorry, are you asking my permission?” he inquired and watched his father’s face start to get red as he went on, “For if this is so, please wait for me to find a scribe. This needs recorded.”
Gallienus leaned toward him and bit out, “You can’t marry that cunt.”
Cassius felt his jaw set hard and his spine snap tight.
“That display,” his father continued, flinging an arm to the back of the tent, indicating the field beyond, “was obscene.”
It was far from obscene.
It was the most remarkable display of horsemanship and military drilling Cassius had ever witnessed.
“I quite liked the starbursts in the sky,” Otho muttered.
“And the firm asses in the saddles,” Mac added.
Gallienus ignored them. “This whole thing is beyond preposterous. It cannot be borne. And thus, we’re leaving. Tomorrow. At sunrise. You will not wed that flagrant tart. I’ve seen better costumes on whores paid to play a role in order to stiffen a cock. It’s coming quite clear as each night fades with no further quakes, this was all but a ruse for Ophelia to plant another Nadirii witch on Airenzian soil to cause strife and mayhem amongst my subjects. And further, by maneuvering these ludicrous alliances through marriage, she thinks to control all realms with the threat of the Beast rising and the use of wet cunt. A savvy ploy, but one destined to fail as it will fail tomorrow morning when we leave.”
Cassius turned from his father when he heard Ha-Lah’s voice saying, “Even a Nadirii could not cause those tremors.”
Cass looked to the lovely Mar-el queen then up to Aramus, who was standing close to her back.
Aramus, as had been made clear these past days, was not at his most jovial in the presence of Cassius’s father.
Though, not many were.
“She could if she had thousands of other witches with her which,” Gallienus jerked his head to the back of the tent, “obviously, she does.”
“To produce that magic, a quake felt in all realms, all the way to the shores of Mar-el, they’d need every witch in Triton, and after such a spell was cast, they’d be drained. They couldn’t produce another for months, if not years,” Ha-Lah calmly replied. “Certainly not every fortnight.”
“You are witch so of course you’d defend them,” Gallienus spat.
“You are old and pompous and not my king. In other words, be careful how you speak to my wife, Airenzian king,” Aramus growled.
“You can’t possibly be believing this rubbish,” Gallienus returned to Aramus.
“I think the vastly more important subject we should be discussing is how Cassius’s betrothed could clearly kick his arse all the way back to Sky Bay, if she had the notion,” Mac jibed, most likely in an attempt to take the growing heat out of the discussion.
“I think it’s more interesting that he never has to concern himself with clipping his own nails. Just ask his bride, she can shear them off from thirty feet with the point of her arrow,” Otho ribbed.
“And I think it’s very interesting…”
At the sound of the stately, feminine voice, Cassius’s attention shot through what had been the wall of Otho’s and Antonius’s chests, both now turned toward the voice, as did all the men, and there he saw Ophelia, flanked by her daughters.
Ophelia seemed annoyed but collected.
Serena was clearly incensed and equally clearly having some difficulty keeping control. Of her mouth or a physical attack (or both), he did not know. Except in the presence of her mother, she was managing to succeed in this task. Barely.
But Elena…
Elena was looking at Cass’s chest and she appeared…
Fuck.
Wounded.
They’d heard.
They’d heard quite a bit.
And none of it was about the most remarkable display of horsemanship and military drilling they’d ever witnessed, Elena playing an individual and extraordinary part in that.
“…that the Sisterhood trains since ten as horsewomen and archers and warriors, at the same time learning to harness their craft in ways great and wondrous that can be used at their command. We demonstrated that this eve. It was witnessed by all. And yet you speak of wet cunts and using our skills to trim nails,” Ophelia finished.
Indeed, they’d heard quite a lot.
Fuck.
Gallienus pushed closer to the Nadirii queen.
For a variety of reasons, none of them familial, Cassius moved with him just as his brothers closed ranks.
“My son is not marrying your daughter,” Gallienus declared.
“This will bring great relief as no Nadirii’s wet cunt wishes to be tainted by Airenzian limp cock,” Serena spat.
His father puffed up.
“Silence, daughter,” Ophelia commanded quietly. But to Gallienus, she stated clearly, “It is your choice, and your son’s.” She tipped her head to Cassius. “But when the Beast rises, it will also be on your head.”
“Where are the tremors, Ophelia?” he father demanded to know.
“I can’t know, Gallienus,” Ophelia replied instantly. “Though after the last, every nation moved to fulfill a prophecy that might serve to stop it. So perhaps those who call it have other things to do. Like, perhaps, preventing that prophecy from reaching its fruition. Which in turn might, perhaps, speak to how they fear the prophecy culminating which would share they fear it might work.”
“Allow me to intercede.” G’Jell of the Dome City suddenly sidled closer to the assemblage, and Cassius watched him with keen attention as he did.
This was because Cass trusted no Go’Doan. Not a one of them. And not for the reasons his father didn’t. This being the fact that, years ago, and even in some temples today, they provided safe haven and assisted safe passage for Airenzian women who looked to escape the heavy hands of husbands, lovers and masters.
No.
A Go’Doan had killed the father he wished he had.
Ares.
And at suffering that monumental loss at the hands of a renounced Go’Doan priest, Cassius had no issue with distrusting the lot of them.
Not to mention, he felt they had something to hide, and the fact you rarely saw the scores of female acolytes who attended them laid testimony to that.
“Even the Go’Doan feel these unions are expedient,” Jell continued. “Those of our own who study the magicks have sensed the instabilities in the veil. The prophecy was recorded centuries ago. And it is known by all that, if the Beast should threaten to be unleashed, it must be carried forward for the good of all realms.”
Jell trained his eyes on Gallienus before he finished.
“And all realms agree. As they do, it’s uncertain how they would feel if Airen refused when they each made their sacrifices, this refusal putting all at risk.”
“The Mar-el make no sacrifice,” Gallienus retorted, flicking a hand in Aramus’s direction. “Their king is already wed.”
“It remains to be seen what sacrifice Mar-el will need to make,” Jell replied. “But you’ll note the boots of the Protector of the Seas are deep inland on the soil of the mainland. For a Mar-el, this is already a grave sacrifice.”
Cassius’s father shut his mouth, for he knew this to be true.
G’Jell’s attention shifted to Cass.
“Prince Cassius, it is your marriage, it is your decision,” Jell said quietly.
“He is my son and my subject so it’s my decision,” Gallienus clipped.
“I will marry the Nadirii,” Cassius declared, his gaze on Elena.
He got a hint of violet when she lifted her eyes to his, before she turned them away.
“This is good,” Jell murmured.
“This is abhorrent,” Gallienus retorted.
“This is unavoidable,” Ophelia sighed.
“Perhaps, Gallienus, we can speak further of this over a glass of wine,” Jell offered in an attempt to continue to diffuse the hostilities.
“I’m afraid not as I’m away to my rooms in the palace,” Gallienus refused. “The company of this tent leaves much to be desired.”
With that weak retort, he pulled his cloak forward at his front and shouldered unceremoniously between Ophelia and Serena, which caused Serena to tense as if she was going to pounce and Ophelia to put a staying hand on her daughter’s arm after Gallienus cleared them.
“I need more wine,” Mac muttered.
“Amen to that,” Otho agreed.
“Serena, go see to the sisters,” Ophelia ordered. “They camp in a garden not far from here that King Mars has offered for our use. I’d like to know they’re settling.”
Her daughter glared at her, turned her glare to Cass and his men, she shifted it to her sister, and then she turned on her foot and strode away.
Cassius felt his arm brushed.
He looked to his left and saw Hadrian there. His man widened his eyes at Cass then turned them to Elena with a jerk of his chin.
Cass looked to his intended.
She was bent to her mother.
“I’ll go check on Dora,” she said softly in her lyrical voice.
“I think, daughter—” Ophelia started.
Elena spoke over her. “I’ll see you in camp.”
“You’re sleeping at the palace, Elena,” Ophelia reminded her.
“I’ll join you there tomorrow,” Elena refuted.
Before Ophelia could say more, Elena turned to leave.
She took four steps away, winding through bodies, before Cassius shoved his glass at Ian, who took it, and he followed her.
“Elena,” he called.
She was not far away, so she was sure to have heard him, but she made no indication she did.
“Elena,” he repeated, closing in and reaching out a hand.
He caught hers and she stopped dead, turning to him and tipping her head back to look up at him with eyes now not violet.
They were brilliant amethyst.
It took him a moment to adjust to their luster, and as he did this, he was unaware his fingers squeezed hers.
The moment he’d accomplished that feat, he murmured, “We should talk.”
“I think, for now, the words of your father and your men are all I wish to hear,” she replied.
“I don’t agree,” he returned.
“That’s funny,” she stated, purposefully misinterpreting him. “Considering you moved to stand by your father’s side and didn’t make that clear when he and they were speaking. In fact, you were quite silent on all subjects.”
He was.
Though she could not be aware that he’d learned over the years it was most often not worth the energy expended to say much to his father.
Or the fact a few of his men seemed to wish to act like lads until their dying breath.
No, she was not aware of this.
And apparently, with the pressure she was using to pull her hand from his, she was also not going to give him the opportunity to explain.
“Elena—” he growled.
With a forceful wrench, she tugged her fingers from his grip, took a step back, but that was all before she dipped her chin deep into her neck in a sardonic bow, and raised her head.
“Until the morrow, my prince,” she whispered, turned, and pressed through the bodies surrounding her.
Cassius watched her go.
“That did not go very well, my friend,” he heard Mars remark at his side.
Cass turned to his Firenz brother. “I note you didn’t enter the fray.”
Mars’s lips were twitching as his head was shaking. “Since we were boys, you made it clear you preferred to fight your own battles.”
“Perhaps,” Cassius allowed. “When I was twelve and my father sent me to your father to train in Firenz tactics and every bully in the regiment wanted to take the Airenzian prince down a peg. And thus the Firenz prince coming to his aid would not have assisted in him making the point that needed made,” Cassius rejoined. “This, my brother, is another matter altogether.”
“Are you saying it’s one you cannot best?” Mars asked incredulously.
“We all were not allied with winsome waifs with silver eyes we could set about charming or voluptuous beauties with sorrowful souls we could engage in healing,” Cassius noted.
Mars sounded amused when he said, “Sadly for you, this is correct.”
Cassius turned his head and watched as Elena abruptly stopped several feet from the flaps at the other end of the tent.
And his gut burned when he saw what stopped her.
Prince True was standing close, his dark head tip
ped to Cassius’s betrothed, his face a mask of concern.
“Steady, friend,” Mars rumbled low, no humor in his tone now when True lifted a hand and curled it around the side of Elena’s neck.
Fortunately, his intended shook her head with agitation, raised her hand but briefly to squeeze True’s wrist, but also to remove it from her person, and then she was off, disappearing through the flaps of the tent.
True watched her go.
As did Cass.
“He’s growing to care much for Farah,” Mars said, his tone now conciliatory.
Cass turned to his friend.
“This is good,” he retorted. “In the meantime, either you tell him, or I will. If he puts his hand on my future wife again, he’ll still have that hand, but it’ll be cut from his wrist and shoved up his arse.”
He waited only long enough to watch a muscle jump along Mars’s bearded cheek as the Firenz king clenched his teeth to beat back laughter.
But yet again, Cass found nothing amusing.
Therefore, he pivoted, and the many bodies moved out of his way as he strode to the other end of the tent, out of it, and to his mount in order to swing astride and ride back to the palace and an entire bottle of fucking whiskey he could pour his gods-damned self.
18
The Thaw
King Aramus Nereus
Guest Suite, Second Floor, East Corridor, Catrame Palace, Fire City
FIRENZE
Aramus had not missed that, not long after the thaw that had started on their final approach to Fire City, the freeze in his marriage had swept up again.
Precisely at the time the servant boy had first shown him and Ha-Lah to their rooms at Catrame Palace, Aramus had left them almost immediately to meet with Cassius, and in doing so, he’d left Ha-Lah behind with orders not to leave that room.
He’d also left Nissi and Oreti guarding the doors to make certain that was so.
This was where she remained, unless there were official functions to attend.
And right then, the instant he guided his wife into their rooms after the reception, he saw that the guise of an allied front of husband and wife she’d put up for the procession, parade and reception was instantly dropped.
The freeze was back on.
The Beginning of Everything Page 18
