The Darkest Night

by Emma V. Leech

  "You lied!" he roared, the words raw and manic, echoing his fury around the room, his face contorted with rage as the force of his magic hit Corin, making him stumble backwards.

  "I did not!" Corin yelled in return. Too hurt that Laen could even consider the things he was accusing him of to find anger enough to match Laen’s. "I did not know I would have to do this until after we fought the Light Fae at Dark Wood. I begged Jacques to help me, to make you king instead of me, but he said it was my destiny. I have no choice, Laen, none."

  Laen stilled, though his anger was visible as his magic twisted around him, growing darker and blacker with every moment. "If that is true,” he demanded, his voice low and ugly. “Why did you not tell me then?"

  "I was afraid to tell you!" Corin admitted, wondering if Laen even remembered what it had cost him to strike a deal with Jacques, to share the old god’s powers to defeat Auberren’s men. "You saw what it did to me, Laen, you saw!” he said, trembling now as the terror of everything he had experienced flooded his mind once more. Yet he would face that again, willingly, if he could only avoid Nerthus. Her retribution was going to be far, far worse. “I knew damn well you would react like this, and if you had been angry, and rightfully so ... but if you had delayed, even a day, I would not have made it here in time.” He stepped closer, daring to face the scald of Laen’s magic so he could see the truth of his words as he met the man’s eyes. “I would have lost my mind before we even got here, and then everything would have been lost.” He took a deep breath, staring at Laen, trying to find the man he knew beyond that wall of fury. He spoke quietly now, voicing his deepest fears out loud. “Don't you understand, Laen? I still don't know if I can do it. Auberren has demanded the full three days and I cannot be sure that I will be strong enough to endure it.” Corin stared at him, seeing no crack in that dark façade, no glimmer of hope. “I am so desperately sorry, Laen. You will never know how sorry, but I could not take the risk that you wouldn’t support me, or that you would need time to consider … surely you can see that ... Laen, please?”

  Corin could feel his heart beating in his throat as he waited for Laen to answer him, but he remained silent. He did not know what else to say, he was so terribly afraid of what would happen now. If he said the wrong thing, Laen would walk away from him, and he was so damned stubborn that Corin knew he would probably never see him again. His chest tightened with fear as he stepped forward, forcing himself past the barrier of Laen’s anger, though it made his flesh feel like it would peel from his bones. He put his hand on Laen’s shoulder.

  “Please, Laen,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I cannot bear this. There are few people I truly love in the world, but you are one of them. If there was anything I could do to change things, I swear to you I would do it. Upon my honour, whether you believe such a thing exists or not … I would do anything. But I cannot, there is no other way, no other choice.”

  “There is always a choice,” Laen said, his voice flat and emotionless as he turned his head to meet Corin’s eyes. “That is one lesson you taught me yourself, many times over. There is always a choice.”

  Corin swallowed, seeing nothing in those dark eyes that he knew as well as his own. He nodded, seeing the words, fear, guilt and sorrow, flickering upon Laen’s skin. “Yes,” he said, barely able to get the words out now. “Yes, you are right, there is always a choice. But in this case, if I don’t claim the land, it will take me ... and I will die.”

  Laen turned, the movement so sudden that Corin jolted. He smacked Corin’s hand away from his shoulder, his expression filled with such rage that Corin took a step back. “Then die!” he snarled, his eyes so cold and full of hatred that it made Corin’s heart freeze in his chest.

  “Laen?” he whispered, disbelieving that such words were possible. He wanted to believe that he’d not heard him correctly, wanted it to be a horrible mistake, a terrible dream, but Laen turned and walked away, slamming the door on his way out.

  Corin stood, frozen to the spot, hearing Laen’s words echoing through his head. His own breath was loud in his ears, but Laen’s words were louder. No. He didn’t mean it … surely? He had known he would be angry, furious, even. He had known the risk he was running, known he might lose his friendship, but he had thought - given time - that he may win it back. He had never considered ... never thought for a moment that Laen would truly rather see him dead than take his father’s kingdom. They had been friends for so long, had been through so much together, both good and bad, that he would never have believed he could say such a thing.

  He looked down, dazed with shock, to find Claudette clinging to him, weeping. “He didn’t mean it, Corin, I know he didn’t. He’s just angry, he wanted to hurt you,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. “Give him time. He’ll see he was wrong. You've told me yourself how terrible his temper is, the dreadful things he says when he is angry, and then when he calms down, he regrets it. You told me that yourself."

  Corin stared down at her, but could not answer for a moment. He could barely breathe. He was numb and he wanted it to stay that way because he could not fathom what he was supposed to do now. Claudette looked up at him and pressed kisses against his cheek. “Mon amour, I’m so sorry, but he will come around. You’ll see, he didn’t mean it,” she repeated over and again.

  “No, ma belle,” he said, as the words finally sank in. He remembered the cold fury in Laen’s eyes, and any foolish hopes he may have entertained flickered and died. “He meant it.” He saw his own anguish reflected in her eyes, and there was anger there, too. Anger in her eyes on his behalf, at Laen for hurting him. Ridiculous as it was, Corin could not help but defend him. Old habits, perhaps. “You do not understand what I have done,” he said, shaking his head. “You don’t understand what it meant to him. He has been put to one side his whole life. He and his mother and sister. Once his mother had died, he was made to feel unwelcome in his own home. They were so cruel to him, Claudette. His step-mother, especially.” He stopped, hatred burning in his eyes. “I despise her. He was just a boy, still mourning his mother, she could at least have been kind to him, but no, that was too much. He was so terribly alone.” Corin rubbed at his eyes, speaking quietly now. “His father is a hard man, a harsh king. Laen would have changed things. He wanted so much to take the throne and have the woman that took his mother's place kneel at his feet. He wanted it for her, do you see, ma belle? It wasn’t for his own sake, his own glory. He wanted it for his mother’s memory, to avenge her, and I have taken it from him. How ..." His voice broke and he looked away. "How can I expect him to forgive me for that, when I knew what it meant to him? When I can never forgive myself? How can I go out there and take everything from him?" He leaned into Claudette, unable to fight the misery any longer. He had lost Laen and any hope of reconciliation. He had also lost any hope of reuniting the three kingdoms. Even if he won on the Field of Kings, if he survived the ordeal, the Dark Fae would fight him every step of the way. They would never accept him now. They would find a way to remove their new king, they would never give up, and he would never be safe again.

  Chapter 20

  Corin stood at the window and watched King Braed’s troops withdrawing from the castle perimeter. Despite everything, he still couldn’t believe Laen was really doing it. He was leaving him here alone. Even after everything that had been said, he had still clung to the hope that Claudette had been right, that he would cool down or at least ... not leave.

  He hoped to the gods that Auberren didn't have any more tricks up his sleeve, as with the losses his men had suffered in the last battle there were not enough to hold what remained of the crumbling city against an attack. He wondered if King Braed now had power enough over his son to convince Laen to attack him, to take Solastire for themselves. Did Laen really want him dead enough for that? Did he hate him enough to help his father defeat him, maybe even support Auberren against him? He swallowed down the fear and pain that question brought and wondered if things would have been d
ifferent if he'd told Laen before they'd left, or if perhaps he’d be dead by now if he had. He tried to force back the self-pity that welled in his heart and made him wonder if it might have been for the best.

  Braed’s troops were lit up in the bright white of the lightning that split the sky, the men soaking wet in the freezing rain and sleet. Corin leaned his forehead against the glass. There was a searing pain in his head and he was desperate for a drink, the desire for it clawing at his guts, but Auberren's last taunt had made him fight against the need to drown out the voices as they began to scream once more.

  He turned away from the scenes beyond the window, too miserable to watch any more. Claudette moved about the room, trying to make the place they had taken for the duration of their stay feel a little more like home. Neither of them liked this place. It was all for show. Awash with lavish furniture and opulence at every turn, it was nothing more than a show of wealth and power, not like the quiet elegance of Bertulf House. Despite its size, his own home had always been exactly that, a home. He felt sick with longing to be there again, to leave this unholy mess behind and let someone else deal with it, but there was no one else.

  It was growing late, the skies beginning to darken more than just the dark clouds that had smothered the daylight. He’d had little time to slink away and lick his wounds until now, kept busy with constant demands for instructions from his men, and now without Laen to help shoulder the burden ...

  He took a breath, he wouldn't think of that.

  Corin watched Claudette as she unpacked, taking comfort in her presence and her quiet company. He tried to squash his rage at Auberren and what he had done here, and find some peace in knowing that she was with him, but anger and sorrow and the screaming demands in his head all conspired to tie him in knots. He found he was too tense to even try to speak to her, his throat tight with too many emotions. No matter that he wanted to, no matter that he wanted to tell her what it meant to him that she had come.

  He sat on the bed and tried to breathe, to release the tension that made his lungs feel like they were carved from stone, but he felt like his chest was buried under a ton of rubble. Three more days. He had to make it through three more days, and right at this moment that simply didn't feel possible. Panic clawed at his throat so that it was hard to swallow, and his heart began to thunder in his chest. Calm down, calm down, you damned fool, he cursed himself, trying to steady his breathing, but fear was rushing through his blood like an incoming tide.

  Claudette came to the bed and began to unpack her toiletries, and he tried to focus on the mundane nature of it, to cling to normality. She picked up a toothbrush and her make-up bag, not noticing it was open, and a small silver packet clattered onto the floor. Corin reached down to pick it up, looking at the row of tiny tablets with a frown. A burst of rage exploded in his chest.

  "What is this?" he demanded, staring at her and seeing the anxiety in her eyes as she gasped.

  "I ... I wanted to speak to you about it, but ... but there just hasn't been the opportunity,” she said, her voice trembling a little.

  Corin stared at the little packet, almost welcoming the anger that burned through him as he began to understand what he held in his hand. "These are chemicals, yes? Human drugs to stop you having a child?" He heard the cold fury in his own voice, but could do nothing to stop it. How could she?

  He saw the fear growing in her eyes and ignored the warning voice in his head that told him to moderate his anger, to listen to her before he reacted. After the past days, he was beyond being reasonable. "Everything I have been fighting for,” he said, his voice quiet with the weight of his resentment, accusation in every word. “Everything our lands stand for, the desperate need for children among our kind … and you bring these?" He stared at her, not hiding the horror in his eyes. He saw the guilt and panic growing in her own as she understood the depths of his anger and disappointment.

  "I w-was just worried, Corin,” she stammered, breathing hard now, twisting her hands together in agitation. “I didn't want to keep asking you when … when you were so …"

  “I told you there was nothing to worry about,” he shouted, not letting her finish as he got to his feet, throwing the pills to the floor in front of her. “Did you think I was lying to you? Is that it? Perhaps you should have taken Laen’s part and called me the liar you obviously believe me to be?”

  "Non!” she exclaimed, her voice full of anguish as her eyes began to glitter. She ran to him, clutching at his arm but he shook her off, not wanting to listen. “Non, of course not. I never thought that. I haven't even taken them, and … and I won't now. I didn't think you were lying, truly, but ..."

  "But you thought I might bend the truth, perhaps?" he snapped, turning on her as the idea struck him deep in his heart. She still didn’t trust him. After everything they’d been through, she still could not take him at his word. "And the thought of bearing my child is such a dreadful one, isn't it?" he added, wanting to hurt her with the truth of it. She didn’t want his child. She knew how he longed for a family of his own and she didn’t want it.

  Claudette gasped, the shock of his words widening her eyes as she shook her head, the tears falling now, streaming down her face. "That's not true! Corin, non!"

  He strode up to her, towering over her, staring into her face to see her reaction. "Then look me in the eyes and tell me it's what you want!" he demanded.

  She stared back at him, trembling, and he knew she couldn't do it.

  He snorted and turned away. Gods, could things possibly get any worse? He needed to get away. Away from everyone who had the ability to hurt him. He couldn’t take any more. Claudette was crying now, trying to make him listen, but there was nothing more to say. He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

  ***

  Claudette wiped her eyes; she could not seem to stop crying, though the argument had been hours ago. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see nothing but the terrible disappointment in his eyes. She knew how devastated he was over Laen's leaving, and with the weight of everything else, he was close to breaking point. She told herself that he would never have reacted so harshly at any other time.

  Hauling in a breath, she told herself to stop wallowing. Corin needed her, needed her support, her own hurt would have to be let go this time. He would apologise later, in any case, she knew that he would, but then it wouldn't change what she had suspected and now knew for sure. He wanted a family now? He didn’t want to wait, and she was far from ready to give him one. On top of everything else, she felt like she had just kicked him when he was down, but she simply didn't have it in her to lie to him.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t ever want a family with him, she did. She too looked forward to the day when their home was full of children. The idea of a big family pleased her, too, and if he had only listened to her, she could have told him that with an open heart. But not yet. She was nineteen. Before she had met Corin, she’d had plans of her own, plans for a career, for a future. Everything she’d decided to do in the coming years had been put aside for him. She had come to this world and thrown herself into it, changing her future to be with him, to rule beside him one day. Learning their history, their politics, the way in which she must navigate this strange and dangerous world had been overwhelming, but she had faced it, for him. All she asked now was that he wait a little longer, that he be patient with her until she was ready. When the lives of his kind were so very long, surely that was not so much to ask?

  The first rays of light had begun to reveal another cold and unhappy day when she felt him slip into bed beside her. He was cold and she shivered as his body curled around her warmth, his arms pulling her close.

  "Forgive me,” he whispered in the dim light and she turned to him, burying her face against his neck.

  "Non,” she said, wrapping herself around him and holding on tight. “I'm sorry, truly sorry ..."

  "Hush." He put his fingers to her lips and she could see the glint of his eyes in the darkn
ess. "You are very young, ma belle. Sometimes you seem so much wiser than me that I think that I forget that fact. There is time. We have all the time in the world." He drew her against him and kissed her, and Claudette sent up a prayer to whoever might be listening that he was right.

  ***

  Dannon yanked open his bedroom door, glaring with irritation at the solider standing on the other side of it.

  "What the devil do you want at this hour?" he demanded. It had been a bloody awful day and he was exhausted. He’d barely closed his eyes for ten minutes before this fool had woken him again. Dannon narrowed his eyes as he realised this was one of Laen's men. By now, everyone knew of the terrible fight between the two princes. King Braed’s men, and his son’s, had moved back yesterday, but not left. It was not a good sign. Whispers that they would attack had everyone on edge. Dannon had done what he could, stepping into the gaping hole that Laen had left. He knew it wasn’t enough. That being the case, Dannon wondered why on earth he was being disturbed in the middle of the night by a Dark Fae solider.

  "It's Prince Laen, Your Grace," the solider explained, looking extremely awkward and like he’d rather be anywhere else than here.

  Dannon frowned. "What about him?"

  The man’s discomfort grew, but he took a breath. "He ... he's in a tavern, a couple of miles outside the city, and …” He paused, clearing his throat. “And well, the thing is, Your Grace, he's gone on something of a bender. We've tried our best to contain the situation, but he's already given two of my lads concussion and another got his arm broke. I mean, usually we'd fetch Prince Corin, but ..."

  Dannon sighed and nodded, needing no further explanation. This was one of Laen’s own men, from his personal guard. They’d not betray him to his father, so with the situation with Corin, Dannon was their only choice. He nodded, wondering what the hell the man thought he could do. "I'll meet you outside in a moment, have a horse ready for me."