Harok on the other hand only pouted and kept glaring at him as if he had done something terribly wrong.
“Lord Darlvok, you are misunderstanding things. That kind of relationship doesn’t exist between Sartak and me anymore. I married my love and Sartak had found the love of his life, too. I only followed him yesterday to make sure he doesn’t rip off some poor soldier’s head,” Aoran- who first found his voice after the heavy accusation- explained to Harok.
Heavily impressed by Aoran’s calm answer, he only nodded; not able to find comparable nice words as his best friend had.
Meanwhile, everyone else had pretended to not have overheard their little conversation and Sartak was glad about it.
He knew there would be talking now, but he didn’t care. Even if Kellan caught wind of some twisted rumors, Sartak believed his mate would know the truth. He was sure Kellan trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t cheat on him, especially not with Aoran who had become a close friend to Kellan very soon.
After all, he was aware that Kellan and Aoran talked…about Sartak and well…intimate bedroom-stuff. It made him feel rather strange and nervous, but he wouldn’t ask them to not discuss such matters.
As long as it helped his mate, he was fine with it- even if it meant that his ex-lover and his husband were exchanging sex-stories. He tried not to think about it too much since the thought was a bit scary.
Sartak cleared his voice and pointed to the caskets.
“We should start with inspecting the weapons and then have them taken to the small ships to send them off to where they’re needed most,” he suggested, desperate to change the subject.
When they had been finished, Trouble had decided to accompany them to Phy’vohran, since the Lady Evelyn had an artillery of her own.
Moreover, she was being accompanied by a twenty hunter-glider delegation.
Trouble had offered their assistance with the patrols and it came as a relief to Sartak.
He had already been worried about their own small numbers that were left to defend their home. Adding a few gliders wouldn’t hurt at all.
Better safe than sorry, he thought.
Anyways, Vex had a letter from the General with him, stating that he should be taken to Kellan to deliver a secret message personally.
Sartak wasn’t too worried about that, and he didn’t mind that he wouldn’t be taken into confidence right now. Kellan would tell him if it concerned him too, but supposedly it was something about EVE-4 and Kellan’s planet’s politics was not really Sartak’s business.
Sometimes there were just messages that were better not delivered through official channels.
Sartak had invited Trouble and Vex to sit in the courtroom and both of them had accepted as soon as they had learned why.
Now they were sitting in said room.
The doors opened once more, and the prisoner was once more dragged into the chamber. He was wet and shuddered, gazing around terrified.
In front of Sartak’s throne, he got pushed on his knees again but this time without the chains.
“I take it you enjoyed your stay in the cell,” he started, watching the man flinch at his words.
His skin was pale, and he was covered in tiny red dots, most possibly the scorpion’s bites. His left cheek seemed swollen, and his chin shone in bright colors today.
Supposedly, the soldiers hadn’t been too friendly to the man who belonged to the ones that had already tried to kill their crown prince and warlord.
“I hope it had helped your memory and you remember what you seemingly had forgotten since I didn’t get an answer the last time I asked it. So here we go again: What is going on and what is going to happen?” his voice was low and dangerously calm.
The man jerked his head up to look at him.
A small grin appeared on his features which started Sartak, but of course, he showed nothing of this confusion on his face.
“How long since you left Phy’vohran?” he asked instead of answering.
Frowning he looked at the other but only got some confused expressions in return. Sighing, he decided to answer that stupid question.
“Almost three days,” he responded slightly impatient, but the grin turned into a full grown smile and then a laugh.
He didn’t get what was so funny about it.
Offended, Sartak rose from his throne and was at the prisoner’s throat in seconds. His hands were firmly wrapped around the small neck of that puny human.
“Explain yourself!” he growled and caused the man to laugh even more hysterically.
“You monster…we have him now!” more mad laughter and Sartak hit him in the face hard enough, so he passed out.
“What the hell does he mean?” Trouble muttered, just when the meaning of the outlaw’s words hit him.
Some difficulties at the towers had forced them to leave the craft at the gates of the city, but Kellan was quite fine with walking.
Eryon had politely offered his arm to him and with a smile, he had taken it.
The city was busy today; shipments were carried through the streets to the marketplace since no craft- including the royal glider- was allowed passage.
The invisible barriers where the towers would demand they state their business had some communication errors. Luckily they would be able to hire an old-school carriage pulled by mounts at the river.
Arriving there, Kellan realized that hiring a carriage might prove to be not that easy after all.
The whole place was cramped, everyone shouted, carriages drove by and people jumped out of their way.
Foul tempered drivers swung their whips through the air, occasionally hitting someone.
Everyone seemed to be in an extraordinarily shitty mood, and Kellan soon felt nauseous. This place was too loud, too full and everything moved too fast.
Only Eryon’s grip, steady and reassuring, kept him from trembling. The food stands didn’t help his nausea.
“I’ll go get a carriage,” Kalik said as he was already walking away.
Kellan nodded lightly, not feeling well with all the smells of food and noises attacking him.
“I’ll get him something to drink,” he heard Jorax’s voice.
That left him alone with the old Phy’vohranian and the wyvern hiding in a pocket inside his robe.
Dershra hadn’t like the noise and all the people bustling about either, and Kellan was quite envious about his little monster. At least the wyvern had the option to hide, but he had no choice than to stand in the middle of a crowd.
When he turned his head to look up to Lord Foxav, Eryon gave him a gentle smile and took Kellan into a hug.
“There, there,” he patted Kellan’s back. “Jorax will get you some juice and you’ll soon feel better.”
Eryon started to tell some silly stories, succeeding in distracting Kellan for a while. He soon felt better as his nausea lessened slightly. He felt soothed and calmer, and finally able to breathe normally again.
“You’re good at this,” he whispered. “I decided to adopt you as a grandpa. You’re going to be the great-grandfather of my children now. No chance to change my mind on this.”
He imagined that he could almost feel Eryon smile above his head as the willowy Phy’vohranian held him even tighter now.
“There are worse things, I believe,” he joked, but there was a hidden note of sadness.
He looked around and saw Jorax approach them.
He was almost at them when a group of humans passed by.
Kellan saw the short flicker of metal and the next second Jorax went down with a pained expression on his face, the bottle of water rolling over the ground because he had dropped it.
“Jorax!” Kellan exclaimed and was about to run to him when Eryon held him back.
“An attack!” he screamed, dragging Kellan with him only to bump into another group of humans.
That was when chaos broke out: mounts ran wildly across the place, people screamed in horror, stalls fell over, and carriages crashed
into each other because the animal went crazy.
Those humans tried to pull Eryon away from him and he frantically held onto his grip, screaming and begging them to don’t hurt the man.
“Please, please. Not Grandpa!” he cried with the voice of a frightened child at the same moment when something pierced his arm and everything turned into darkness.
He could only hear more screams and chaos unfold around him, then there was Eryon’s voice, and his body was lifted from its feet.
All that mattered was that Eryon was at least still with him, everything else could be sorted out later.
A familiar face…it calmed him, relief washed over him, and soon he didn’t even notice the surrounding sounds.
23
The world moved around him, but the pitch black darkness didn’t want to go away.
It held him greedily, not letting go for a second.
His body lay on a soft ground though he felt like floating.
His head was heavy; something inside it pounded against his skull, making him feel sick and nauseous while people seemed to be constantly talking.
Someone shifted; he felt a touch on his face and his mouth was yanked open.
Some awful potion was put down his throat, they forced him to swallow.
It tasted like something rotten, stomach-turningly bitter and disgustingly sweet at the same time.
“I hope it is not too late. He seemed ill when we came to rescue him,” one of the voices said- it was male, friendly and concerned.
Rescue? Had he already been rescued from his kidnappers?
Probably, but who spoke?
“What are you talking about? You stole him!” that was definitely Eryon’s voice, furious about whatever was going on.
Kellan’s head felt too heavy to allow him to further listen, so he drifted back to sleep again.
The next time he woke, the voices were back again, though this time not the same…just voices.
He heard Eryon argue with someone else who wasn’t the man who had spoken about the rescue.
His body felt so weak, so terribly wrong and not like his own.
The uncomfortable feeling of it exhausted him, and soon he was half asleep again.
His eyelids fluttered but were still too heavy to be opened. So he just gave up trying it.
He listened to them as they hissed mean things at each other, but suddenly they went silent.
A moment later someone started to wash Kellan’s face with a wet, cold cloth. When Eryon started to talk to him, he knew he was safe, so he went back to sleep again.
24
Sartak was utterly miserable.
He had wanted to kill the man, but Aoran had stopped him. His best friend had correctly pointed out that the man’s statement might still be needed and so he had stopped strangling him; face already blue and almost passed out.
That fucker had told him, his kmeran was about to get kidnapped or was already being kidnapped at that moment.
When he had called his father, no one had been able to locate Kellan at first, but then there had been news about Jorax and Kalik found being stabbed.
Both guards were severely injured and the doctors were now trying their best to save their lives.
Sartak prayed; wished upon the stars.
He’d retrieve his mate and the guards would live.
There was no way he would let some outlaws and rebels against the peace-treaty win.
He would blast them to stardust, and he would do it with great satisfaction as punishment for taking his mate away from him.
It had not yet been confirmed, that Kellan was no longer on the planet, but it was most likely.
The broken down servers of the guard towers had been a means of distraction…a means to cause more chaos, the chaos needed to kidnap royalty.
Aoran sat beside him, allowing Sartak to lean against his chest and he noticed that it had been a long while since Aoran had allowed him to be that close, though he remembered that someone had held him while he was fighting for his life after they’d left Quara.
He had to admit that sometimes he missed Aoran being so casual and comfortable around him, usually he would keep a few meters distance between them ever since after he’d gotten married to Sirall…oh well after Tawila had been born that was.
After the incident - he knew but still had yet to accept that he had been at fault there- their friendship had come to a temporary stop.
The silence had been painful, and it was good to have him back as a friend now.
Foolish, petty behavior had almost driven them apart, and almost too late he had realized the worth and importance of what they had.
He was lucky Aoran had forgiven him…mostly at least.
“Keep your head together! Kellan needs you! We’re almost at home. We need to wait for Kalik and Jorax to wake up. Maybe they have clues,” Aoran said, trying hard to comfort him.
He let out a shaky breath and tried to calm his nerves.
He felt helpless again, utterly useless and unworthy of his kmeran’s love and trust.
His mate depended on him, trusted him to come to his rescue, but what the hell was Sartak doing? He was about to lose his mind.
Again, he felt like he had failed Kellan. First, when they had traveled to Quara he had promised to stay safe but in the end had almost gotten himself killed.
Now, he had left to fetch the weapons despite having promised to stay home before and Kellan had been abducted while he was gone.
He should have been at home, with his mate and his unborn child.
Goddess, he hoped Kellan was all right and they hadn’t already hurt him, nor would anytime soon.
The thought of them using violence against his sweet love made his stomach turn.
Those people must have been sick in their heads. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have kidnapped a pregnant kmer; no one would do such an abhorrent thing.
He, at least, couldn’t do such a thing.
His consciousness couldn’t bear it if he hurt the helpless and weak.
Sartak nuzzled his face against Aoran’s neck and clung to him like a child.
The kmer smelled like burnt sugar and purple Phy’vohranian water-orchids; a scent he knew too well but didn’t affect him like it used to.
His whole being yearned for his mate’s scent; he was no longer interested in the temptations that other kmer in heat might pose.
That was how he knew how much of a good friend Aoran was.
The kmer would have never allowed him to be so close to him during his vulnerable phase if he hadn’t needed someone to lean on.
He put Sartak’s well being over his own comfort.
“If your uncle sees us like this, he’ll accuse us of back-room-of-the-gym-fucking again,” Aoran commented dryly but still didn’t let go of him.
The remark made Sartak splutter.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, though. Forgive his behavior. He probably had a bad day,” he responded, earning a snort from Aoran.
“You haven’t heard then?” Aoran let go of him to give Sartak a strange look, raising one eyebrow at him and continued explaining, when Sartak shook his head. “My girls are living in your mate’s rooms for the second time now. Sirall dislikes you for a reason, you know. People say nasty things…and after all, we had given them a reason to do so. There’s no denying we ever had sex because we had…a lot of it, actually. But there are rumors…concerning Tawila’s parentage. People claim her hair shines red in the sun. I know! Ridiculous nonsense…but Sirall isn’t so sure either. You know what we have done, I know it, and Sirall suspects it. I’m not so sure about her parentage either the longer I think about it and the more of that evil speech I get from people lately. If I go have her tested, people will know it means I admit to being unfaithful to my mate. I can’t. I shan’t. But of course, they do not like seeing us together like this…they claim to see some similarities in yours and Tawila’s features and it’s driving me crazy. You know I will fight like a woun
ded mother-wyvern protecting her young if you try to take her away from me. I will not allow it, even if she is your daughter.”
His best friend stood a few inches away from him, but his face was a mask of sternness and underlying hostility.
Sartak would never dare to take away any of Aoran’s daughters. They had made an agreement on this matter and he would never break his word.
So he only reminded him of his words from years ago: “I gave you a promise and I will keep it.”
Only when Aoran nodded, hiding a sob, he realized how difficult life must have been for him lately.
His friend had been under a lot of pressure because of things Sartak had foolishly initiated due to hurt pride.
He wanted to tell Aoran, but he simply didn’t have the guts to do so at this moment. Thus he just smiled ruefully and gave him another hug before backing away.
“Okay, let’s work on getting Kellan back, and then we’ll see what we do about the other thing,” he lifted from his seat and walked towards the door, turning his face around to see if Aoran followed him and when he did, he strode in the direction of the navigation bridge.
Arriving there, he demanded that a connection to the palace should be established.
Things looked dire since they couldn’t just call back their fleets.
Their allies still had struggles, and the pirate-problem was far from solved. So he needed to see if any ships could be spared to start a rescue mission for his kmeran and unborn child.
When the king’s face appeared on screen, Sartak sighed in relief.
He hadn’t been so sure whether his father would still be in his office or busy with another council meeting. But before he could ask for anything, his father cut off his word, leaving Sartak frowning.
“I can’t. I’m so sorry, but it isn’t possible. I know what you wanted to ask just now, but it is no longer possible. I have only a few forces left defending Nuxar and Phoxor. The pirates have reached us and we are barely keeping them at bay. You know, if Nuxar and Phoxor fall, we lose. We no longer have a single soldier to spare and I would appreciate it if you came home to assist. We will have to wait for the sum of the ransom they’ll demand,” Leylos’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his expression grim and troubled.
The Golden Heart: Alliance Book One (Alliance Series 1) Page 31
