A King's Caution

by Brennan C. Adams

  So, that’s what had claimed so much of her time when they’d been courting. The long conferences with cloth-swaddled soldiers and excursions into the forest made perfect sense now. How had he missed it?

  You were slightly preoccupied leading your own band of soldiers, Raimie, Nylion whispered through their mind.

  “I’ve no intention of supporting my brother.” Ren grimaced at the admission. “He’s always had a temper, but lately, it’s gotten worse. He knows he’s lost the contest for the throne, and that knowledge had tipped him over the edge. Whatever sense of mercy he might once have possessed has vanished.

  “A man tried to steal our horses on our journey to Uduli. When we caught the thief, he tried to plead his case, saying he needed the money from the horses’ sale to feed his family, but Kylorian didn’t care. He cut the man down, and we moved on.” She bit her lip. “He can’t be king. Something broke in him when Hadrion died, Raimie, and I don’t know what can fix it.”

  Oh, no. Nyl, she didn’t mean it!

  “My name is Nylion.” Their lips formed the words, but the voice which emerged was distinctly his other half’s: raw, brutal, and so very, very crushed.

  Ren’s hand flew to her mouth. “I am so sorry,” she breathed. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I swear!”

  Nylion turned away. Can we switch please? he asked.

  Ren grabbed their hand, and Nylion’s desire to retreat wavered, replaced by something else, something much stronger. Before Raimie could comprehend what had happened, they were huddled, far from the blanket, against a tree trunk, shaking like a leaf.

  Nyl! She was trying to comfort you! Raimie shouted. Why-?

  “Don’t touch me!” Nylion whimpered.

  The bond shuttered closed with a slam, and with it came a vast gulf of separation. The return to what he’d been from nine to eighteen jarred Raimie into a state of shock, a haze which clouded his thoughts but refused to blessedly cut them off. How had he lived so empty for so long? How did anyone?!

  What’s going on? Why won’t you let me in? he cried. Please, please, Nyl! I can’t be alone again!

  Whatever had cut him off loosened ever so barely.

  Leaves crunched, and clothes rustled as Ren settled nearby. She did as Nylion asked, however, and didn’t place a hand on him.

  “Both of you do that, you know. When we were together, I had to catch Raimie in unguarded moments if I wanted to receive a genuine reaction instead of terror,” she said, crunching closer to them. “I’m going to rub your neck, Nyl. That always calmed Raimie.”

  Cool flesh connected with theirs, and while Nylion trembled at first, he gradually relaxed while her fingers massaged their skin.

  “Who hurt you two?” Ren whispered in a barely audible voice.

  Coughing, Nylion stood. “No one,” he said, clearing his throat, “unless you count weapons masters who went too far with lessons or tutors who exchanged knuckle raps for incorrect answers.”

  She frowned. “No, whatever it was had to be something more to cause such damage.”

  “There is nothing else!” Nylion growled. “Thank you for answering my question. I apologize for making it more awkward than it should have been.”

  “No, no!” Ren exclaimed. “I’m sorry to have made you uncomfortable! I’d hoped to meet you a little more amenably which, yes, you could have asked about my loyalties at a better time, but I could have…”

  She trailed off, her eyes unfocusing. “Wait. When you asked me whether I’d support Kylorian, did you also say Raimie was excited to talk to me? Why would he want to speak with me after what I did to him?”

  The conversation’s turn jerked Raimie free of the mind-skittering fugue into which he’d been plunged.

  Nyl, don’t you dare! he managed to shout.

  “I did,” Nylion answered. “He is still in love with you, you know. He pines like a love-stricken fool even now. It is a little embarrassing, actually.”

  You bastard! Raimie growled. How could you?!

  “You were never going to tell her otherwise,” Nylion responded aloud. “Too intent on honoring her wishes to notice that doing so meant you would never find happiness with another. Gods know you have tried!”

  I could eventually find it with Kaedesa!

  “With Auntie?” Nylion said. “I doubt it. We appreciate her body to be sure. What man would not? But we have no real attraction to her. She is like… an Aunt, much like the nickname she holds.”

  Then I’ll learn to deal with it! Raimie roared.

  “Excuse me, boys. Can I cut in?” Ren asked, voice low and breathy. “I’d like Raimie, if you don’t mind, Nyl.”

  “Not at all.” Their mouth twisted into a grin, but when the world snapped and Raimie was in control, the expression fell away.

  “Sorry about him,” he said with a blush, rubbing his neck where her hand had rested mere moments before. “He can get a bit carried away sometimes.”

  Ren’s eyes were hooded, her intent hidden. She crooked a finger. “Come here.”

  Gulping, Raimie sidled as close to her as he dared. How angry was she? She’d been the one to tell him their relationship was over. He should have moved on, but his efforts on that front had been lackluster at best. Was she displeased to learn he still ached for her?

  Raising her face, she looked at him expectantly.

  Could she blame him for how he felt about her? It’s not as though he could change it. He’d certainly tried.

  “You’re supposed to kiss me now, you fool,” she said with an exasperated sigh.

  Oh.

  Thanks, Nyl.

  Raimie cautiously cupped her face, certain she’d bat his hands away, and when she didn’t, he leaned to meet her.

  Gods, the spark was still there! That spine-chilling, toe-curling, back arching want or possibly need. He couldn’t tell which it was, but it ran through his body from head to toe like a current, an intensity amplified by years spent apart. Years spent longing for her.

  Her hands slipped under his shirt, and he shivered at the feel of her skin on his. Too absorbed in the kiss, he hadn’t noticed her unbuttoning his vest, but he definitely felt it when she tugged both it and the undershirt off him. Surprise snagged him for a millisecond, but then he was meeting those lips again, hungrily sucking in all of her. He couldn’t get enough. He found the edge of her tunic and broke away long enough to tug it over her head-Gods, she was beautiful!-before diving in once more.

  They collapsed onto the blanket, hands touching, feeling, roaming everywhere and gradually traveling lower.

  “Ren!” The shout shattered the magic like a stone through a window.

  They broke apart, their initial reactions to reach for weapons instead of clothes.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Kylorian stormily advanced on them.

  “As I please, brother. I’m not your possession despite what you might think,” Ren replied, not bothering to cover her nakedness but, instead, replacing her dagger to her belt.

  The question wasn’t directed at her. Kylorian punched Raimie hard enough to topple him backward.

  “DON’T TOUCH HER!” he shouted.

  Rubbing his jaw, Raimie rose with a groan, snatching his vest and shirt from where they’d landed in grass.

  “Hey, Kylorian,” he mumbled as he pulled the undershirt over his head, “so good to see you after such a long time. What’s that? Sure, I’d love to get a drink with you. Right after I put a balm on the bruise you’ve left me.”

  “Don’t act like the wounded party!” Kylorian snarled. “I saw everything! You were about to rape her!”

  Raimie froze, shirt halfway on. What…? The infuriating man couldn’t have made such an accusation, could he? One didn’t just say that word. It was… He must have misheard.

  “Ky, I started it!” Ren began, but Raimie barreled over her.

  “I’d never do such a thing!” he asserted with a smile. “Never! I can’t believe you’d think that of me, Ky! I’d thought the last two years wou
ld have proven to you what kind of man I am.”

  “A manipulator? A liar?” Kylorian snapped.

  He’d never change this man’s mind.

  “Say you’re right about the last two, which you aren’t,” Raimie shrugged, “you’re absolutely wrong about the first. What Ren and I enjoyed was completely consensual. On both sides.”

  “It was, Ky!” Ren added, finally getting dressed. “I can’t believe you’d think me so weak I couldn’t have otherwise escaped the situation.”

  Kylorian didn’t speak, merely glared at Raimie. Then, he turned on his heels and marched away.

  “Where’s he going, the nearest tavern?” Raimie asked, drawing the vest over his shoulders.

  “I doubt that very much,” Oswin called from outside the clearing, and both Ren and Raimie jumped. “He’s most likely on his way to Eledis to tattle on the two of you. He hates you enough to damage his sister’s reputation if it reflects poorly on you, sir.”

  Oh, HELL no.

  Finished buttoning his vest, Raimie tugged on the hem to straighten it. “Talk later?” he asked Ren.

  “I think we probably should,” she replied with a smile.

  Thank Alouin for that bit of happiness to calm his tumultuous fury. Or rather, Kylorian should thank Alouin because otherwise, Raimie might have indulged his itch to kill the other man.

  Why must it always be like this between he and Ren’s brother? They walked a fine line of antagonistic camaraderie which would eventually end with one of them dead by the other’s hand. Which was too bad because, if not for their circumstances, he might have been fond of Kylorian, a man so like him it amazed him. Unfortunately, their similar tempers often put them at odds with one another, as in this case. Where Kylorian had accused him of assaulting Ren.

  “I hope you can keep up, Oswin,” Raimie hissed through his teeth, and a groan answered.

  Too bad for the spymaster. He might not need the speed, but during normal circumstances, Raimie required Ele’s peace when he stood in Eledis’ presence, and if he was sure of anything, it was that the coming confrontation between he, Kylorian, and his grandfather would be anything but normal.

  He shot down the palace’s halls, evoking no response from passersby. The Udulians believed he was the reason Doldimar had vanished, and so, they accepted his many oddities without a word. In fact, many called friendly greetings as he passed. He paid them no mind, singularly focused on considering his actions for the next hour.

  He arrived to Eledis’ quarters well before Kylorian but didn’t enter. The time had come for the second contender for the throne to bow from the contest, even if he didn’t realize it yet. Raimie pulled his Ele source around his body, enveloping him in a bubble of invisibility, and settled in to wait.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Most people assume the figure to hold the most power in the realm is the one who wears the crown. I laugh at those assumptions. The monarch may be the one to decide policy, but who are the ones to carry out those decisions? The monarch is the director of our puppet show, but we, the advisors and ministers, we’re the puppeteers who hold the strings.

  -Pierdriel, Minister of Finance, Ada’ir

  Once again, Eledis contemplated the problem of Raimie. Two years and he hadn’t devised a plan to kill the kid or at least, not one which ended with him alive afterward. Raimie was simply too well protected. He had his Hand, the five highly trained spies who stuck to him like flies to fruit whenever the kid allowed it, and his Eselan friend, Kheled, who was an inordinately powerful primeancer as well as a spectacular swordsman.

  Sure, the Eselan was away more often than not, ranging Auden’s fringes in pursuit of his singular obsession to find the missing Dark Lord, but he frequently returned to the palace, and when he did, it was always at the most unexpected of times and places. Sometimes, he came through Uduli in a blaze of light, but others, they’d have no idea he was there until he wearily trudged into a meeting and sat down.

  Of course, Eledis also had to consider the matter of Raimie’s primeancy. In the last two years, the kid had exponentially grown in strength. Towns destroyed by Harvest had been restored by his hand, and without batting an eye, he walked through shadows from one end of the kingdom to the other in an instant.

  Eledis had thought perhaps he could use Raimie’s flagrant use of primeancy against him. Wielders of Ele and Daevetch were widely regarded with mistrust and hate because of Doldimar’s oppression, and he’d hoped the vast throng of commoners would turn against Raimie when they saw what he could do. The kid and his friends could render many threats harmless, but they’d have difficulty staying in one piece when under a mob’s care.

  That plan had died with a whimper when Raimie’s first visible act as claimant to the Audish throne had been to destroy the pits, the second highest source of terror for the common man. They’d loved him for it, and he’d built on that adulation by insisting he address the most challenging of public works himself. With his service, the hearts and minds of the Audish populace had firmly yielded to Raimie’s control.

  And so, Eledis was left to rely on Gistrick, the cowardly Zrelnach commander who insisted he could fix their problems via mysterious solution. The vague hope didn’t stop Eledis from scheming when he could.

  Huffing irritably, he returned to his work. He currently struggled through a report regarding the state of Auden’s coffers. It was dismal reading at best. Eledis couldn’t understand what had driven Doldimar, but keeping the nation afloat had certainly not been his goal.

  Thank Alouin for Kaedesa and the alliance with Ada’ir! Never mind that Eledis despised the price she'd demanded for the cooperation between nations, Auden needed Ada’ir’s coin if it had any hope of surviving. Infrastructure needed to be rebuilt, trade reestablished, and most importantly, the people needed to be fed while they waited for farmers to return to their craft. They'd already made progress in those areas, but a long slog awaited them.

  Eledis rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept well last night. Nightmares haunted his dreams, nightmares where a hostile stranger wearing Raimie’s face attacked him with a bloody knife. Nylion hadn’t shown his face since the fateful meeting before they marched on Uduli, but Eledis knew the aberration was always there, lurking under the surface of Raimie’s forced smile.

  The door slammed open, and Eledis jumped, aware he’d nearly fallen asleep despite the massive amount of paperwork left to finish today.

  “What do you want, Kylorian?” he asked the interruption.

  “Where’s Kaedesa?” Kylorian asked right back.

  Remember, Eledis, he’s not your brother, no matter how much they may look alike. He’s a threat.

  “Indisposed. I’d be more than happy to assist, however,” Eledis informed him.

  Kylorian sneered, and the scorn looked so much like the final expression Eledis had seen on ‘bailie’s face that he flinched.

  “I doubt you’d help me,” Kylorian said. “I bring accusations against your grandson.”

  “Really?” Eledis perked up.

  Maybe a solution to the Raimie problem was about to fall into his lap.

  “I found him with my sister in the gardens mere moments ago. They were in a… compromising position.” Kylorian’s face pulled in a confusing expression, somewhere between delight and indignation.

  Eledis sighed. He’d known Raimie continued to hold a torch for the half-Eselan girl, but he’d thought the kid possessed enough self-control to avoid acting on those feelings.

  A scandal like this wasn’t the solution for which he’d hoped. It would most definitely destroy Raimie, but in the process, it would demolish Ada’ir’s alliance with Auden. Kaedesa could tolerate many bumbles, but she wouldn’t abide straying, even if she and Raimie were only betrothed.

  “What will it take for this to go away?” Eledis asked.

  “You see? That’s exactly what I expected! A bribe,” Kylorian said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

  “Answer the question, damn it
,” Eledis demanded.

  “You can’t give me what I desire, old man,” Kylorian scoffed. “For years, I’ve wanted your Alouin damned grandson ruined, and now, I finally, finally, have the ammunition I need to do so. Maybe I should next add you to my list.”

  “Huh,” Raimie’s voice drifted from an empty corner. “Ren was right. You have changed.”

  The space filled with the kid’s lanky form, accompanied by a pop like a bubble’s burst. Eledis was suddenly grateful he hadn’t commiserated further with Ren’s brother.

  Kylorian reached for his sword, and in a burst of light, Raimie’s blurred hand went to the small of his back, withdrawing the pistol which waited there. He pressed its muzzle to Kylorian’s temple.

  “Rude!” he exclaimed.

  He prodded Kylorian toward Eledis. “I require your chair, grandfather,” Raimie said, never taking his eyes from the man he held at gunpoint.

  Rising, Eledis stepped to the side.

  “Sit,” Raimie commanded Kylorian with another poke.

  While the man stiffly complied, Raimie withdrew a set of shackles from his belt and offered them to Eledis.

  “Sorry, Oswin,” he whispered before demanding, “A little help please?”

  Kneeling before Kylorian, Eledis bound one wrist to the other while Raimie rifled through his desk drawers. Meeting Kylorian’s eyes, he tried to convey to those orbs swirling with hate that an ally was present. Eledis had been unaware of how deeply Kylorian’s loathing went. He wanted to kick himself for overlooking such a useful tool.

  Finished with his fiddling, Raimie dangled another pair of shackles over Eledis’ shoulder. How had the kid known those were in his desk?