Love and the Stubborn

by Xenia Melzer

  Casto ignored the last part of the sentence since another detail had aroused his suspicion, a detail that made him shiver in cold premonition. “How? I thought the wolves….”

  “The wolves scent every theft in the Valley, but there are humans who have free access to all chambers because they pick up laundry, deliver food—or return repaired jewelry.” Renaldo hesitated, knowing well that his next words would hurt Casto deeply. “It was Sic who stole the pin. When he took it from your room, the wolves didn’t even notice since he’s moving around doing such things all the time. He’s responsible for you being sent to the mines.”

  Casto had gone pale. He retched. His shock was apparent. “Not Sic.”

  He sounded so desperate it reminded Renaldo of his talk with Damon. “So lonely and forsaken…. Sic… only one who kept being friendly….”

  Renaldo slung his arm around Casto’s shoulders. He understood his desperation all too well. Being betrayed was never fun, but when it was somebody you trusted, it was like a knife thrust into your guts. “I’m sorry, my own. But it was Sic.”

  “No, I don’t believe it. He’d never do such a thing.”

  “Damon blackmailed him, Casto. He threatened to kill Noran if Sic didn’t do what he wanted. I hate to admit it, but the scheme was thoroughly planned and executed.”

  “That bastard! I knew he couldn’t be trusted!” Casto punched a pillow in rage, his voice full of anger. He had known Damon was trouble from the moment the man tried to befriend him. “How did you find out I was innocent?”

  Renaldo sighed. The discussion was getting more unpleasant, and the worst was still to come. “Sic told me. He sought me out six days after you’d been sent to the mines, and he confessed everything to me. He couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for your fate.”

  As Renaldo dreaded, Casto’s features lit up. “He saved me, then?”

  “No. He brought you into that situation in the first place. Strictly speaking, you’ve been saved by me and Lys, although I’m willing to credit the demon with the main part of your rescue.”

  “But if he hadn’t confessed to you, you’d have never come to my rescue, isn’t that right, Barbarian? Where is he now? What’s going to happen to him?”

  Renaldo’s face became an irreconcilable mask. “He’s in the dungeons, together with the other traitors. And like them, he’s going to die.”

  Desperately, Casto shook his head. “No, this can’t be! He told the truth and made up for his mistake. You have to let him live for that.”

  “Because of him I almost killed my heart. Thanks to his doings, the Good Mother was only a hairsbreadth away from being victorious. I don’t care in the least that he told the truth in the end. For what he’s done, he deserves the most painful death I can imagine. And believe me, on my way to the mines, I had plenty of time to think about the most dreadful punishment.”

  Anger flared in Casto’s eyes as he reacted to the rage in Renaldo’s voice. “He was forced. He didn’t have a choice. If I had been in his shoes, I’d have done the same. I can understand him.”

  “Damn it, Casto. Because of him, you almost died. Don’t tell me you’ve forgiven him?”

  “No, I haven’t. Actually, I’m so furious with him that I’ll probably never forgive him. But in the end, he did the right thing of his own free will. He made up for his mistake, and he deserves a second chance. I surely won’t allow Damon the triumph of taking Sic down with him.”

  Panting heavily, Casto paused. He resumed talking, with a hint of accusation in his tone. “Despite everything, you were the one who sent me to the mines, not Sic.”

  Renaldo’s eyes narrowed. Casto’s reasoning was well founded, which only made him that much angrier. “That was a low blow. I’m still your master and your god, so you had better watch your mouth.”

  Casto reared up to his feet. The old fire, doused by his ordeal, flared again, as hot and wild as ever. “My master and god?” His voice was full derision. “You didn’t even realize I was innocent! What kind of god is it who trusts the accusations of a stranger more than his own lover?”

  Renaldo had gotten up too. As always, Casto managed to find his weak spot without apparent effort, but after everything that had happened, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that Casto should be more compliant. Renaldo was his god, the man who held his fate in his hands. Unfortunately it wasn’t like Casto to let something like that stop him when he was in a full rage.

  Over the pillows they stared at each other; the flames from the hearth drew flickering shadows on Casto’s angry features and Renaldo’s motionless mask.

  Only Renaldo’s gray eyes betrayed his feelings. “You said you’d forgive me.”

  “So that’s how it is. I’m supposed to forgive you, but you can’t do the same for Sic? He’s young and inexperienced. How should he have known Damon didn’t have the power to kill Noran?”

  “You forgave me because I did you the same favor, Prince Castolus. The crime Sic committed is huge in comparison and cannot be excused with ignorance. He will die with the others. That is my final word.”

  Casto was about to speak, and Renaldo held up his hand in warning. “My final word, Casto. Don’t challenge me.”

  Casto’s blue eyes flared in rage, but no snippy retort followed. Instead, he turned and started walking away.

  Renaldo clenched his fists in order not to hit him. Even though he knew now that Casto was his heart and after the things Renaldo had done to him, Casto was still able to make his blood boil with rage. Renaldo only hoped this was some twisted proof of their mutual love, because if not, they would likely kill each other. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Casto stopped. He answered without sparing his master a glance. “I’m getting dressed to go see my rescuer. By the way, my brother is the only one who never doubted my innocence, Barbarian.”

  Casto started moving again and left Renaldo sitting alone at the fire.

  CASTO’S THOUGHTS were racing. He was so furious, he was trembling all over. In his haste to leave Renaldo’s chambers, he had put on the first clothes he could get his hands on, which turned out to be a dumb move. So clad only in a thin woolen tunic and light trousers, he was freezing.

  The air in the Valley was icy, and a chilly wind heralded one of the last heavy snowstorms of the season. Casto was glad when he finally reached the stables that welcomed him with their warmth and, above all, their familiar, comforting scents and noises.

  Lysistratos stood in his stall; two stable boys were busy brushing him.

  Casto smiled at them. “You can leave. I’ll take over.”

  The two boys retreated silently, and Casto picked up one of the brushes. “My brother. I’ve missed you.”

  Lys snorted happily. He took a step toward Casto, who rested his forehead on the stallion’s blaze. They stood like that for some time, enjoying the connection between them, all the stronger because it didn’t need words.

  “Thank you for getting me, Lys. Without you, I would be dead by now.”

  A snort, backed up by stamping.

  “I know. I would have done the same for you. Still, I’m grateful that you revealed your secret to the Barbarian.”

  The stallion raised his head, and his big brown eyes drilled into Casto’s.

  Casto sighed. “Yes, he knows my secret as well. And we had a fight. I feel terrible. Angry and sad at the same time. It’s disgusting.”

  Lys turned sideways when he heard those words, a silent invitation Casto gladly accepted.

  “I hoped you would suggest this.”

  With his usual grace, Casto hopped onto his friend’s bare back. He was barely seated when Lys started to run, out of the stables and along the narrow, snow-covered path that led to the mountain range that protected the Valley in the north.

  Since Renaldo knew both their secrets now, the stallion had no reason to hold back. Across the icy fields, he galloped at a speed no ordinary horse would ever be able to reach.

  Casto sat f
irmly on Lys’s bare back, so used to his movements that he didn’t even need to keep his hands on his brother’s mane. Some surprised shouts followed them, but they soon left them behind, as well as the huts and the claustrophobia the protected world meant to them. Lysistratos tolerated the stables and the limits of a life with humans only because Casto was his soul mate. The stallion remembered all too well the times when he had roamed the world alone, his only pleasure the races he had with the wind.

  But then he’d met Casto. Some invisible force had driven Lys to Ummana and to the side of the young man who he’d understood from the moment of their first meeting as if they had really grown up as brothers. Lys would never desert his prince; he needed him far too much for that.

  At the mountain lake, Lys finally stopped. His warm breath condensed in the cold air. Against the midday sun, it seemed like a messenger from the other world Lys had once called his home.

  Casto slipped from his back, his cheeks red, his hair ruffled by the wind. He leaned against his four-legged brother and started to talk, as he always did when he was upset.

  “Till this morning, it was surprisingly peaceful except for one minor outburst on my side. Which was completely justified, by the way. I’m still slightly shocked by what’s happened and I think he really regrets that he suspected and treated me so obnoxiously. We probably both tried to compensate for everything in bed. And it’s not that absurd. I mean, I’ve forgiven him, but that doesn’t mean that the memories just vanish. And you know how hard it is for me to make allowances. There’s still a nagging little voice inside my head that keeps reminding me how deeply the Barbarian has betrayed me. So far, I haven’t been able to silence it.”

  Lost in thought, Casto played with his brother’s mane while he told Lys about Sic selling him out and then trying to make up for it by telling the truth. Lys rubbed his head sympathetically on Casto’s shoulder while the young man kept on talking.

  “Despite that, he wants to kill him, just like the other traitors. But I don’t think that’s right, and I told him as much. One word led to another, and before I knew it, I said some very hurtful and ugly things to him.

  “Damn, Lys, I was so angry. This whole situation is such a complete mess that just thinking about it makes me furious. I was unfair to Renaldo, something I regretted the moment I slammed the door behind me. And now I don’t know how to make up for it—or if I even want to.

  “I still think Sic deserves a chance, and I have to make it clear to the Barbarian as well. The problem is, I can understand why he’s so relentless. What shall I do?”

  The powerful stallion rumbled deeply, a sound that soothed his human friend immediately. Lys knew what to do. It had always been like this. Perhaps because, as a creature of chaos, he looked at things from a different perspective than his human brother.

  Silently, Casto listened to the demon’s mental counsel. “You’re right. The problem is the way we interact. Neither one of us is good with words. But how am I supposed to change that? I mean, it’s part of who I am!” He slumped his shoulders miserably. “No matter what kind of conversation we have, it ends in disaster. We almost always get each other wrong. In the beginning I thought it was because of our different cultural backgrounds, but it’s not just that. We’re both used to not giving in—he even more than me. When I bend, I always get the feeling of being defeated. I can hardly stand it, especially after our last fight.”

  Now Lys rested his head comfortably on Casto’s shoulder. His warm breath huffed across the prince’s face, engulfing him in the scent of fresh herbs, his body heat keeping Casto from freezing. For almost half an hour they stood there, each lost in thoughts of a very different nature, and then Casto caressed his brother’s nostrils.

  “I know now what I have to do. But we have to get back right now.”

  Lys snorted adventurously, and Casto hopped onto his back with a broad grin.

  “How fast do you think you can go back to the stables?”

  The mighty muscles beneath Casto shuddered and the stallion ran.

  Only a short time later, Casto entered Renaldo’s chambers and looked cautiously around.

  Renaldo was nowhere to be seen. He, too, seemed to have carried his anger into the Valley.

  In Renaldo’s private casket, Casto found what he was looking for.

  Hoping that for once he was doing the right thing, he went to find Frankus.

  WHILE CASTO had been cooling his head with a ride, Renaldo had gone to the training hall for the same reason.

  He had been practicing for about an hour on his own, not going easy on himself, when Aegid and Kalad entered the room with a dozen trainees. The two warriors were responsible for training the recruits, a task they fulfilled so efficiently that the Pack had been able to defend its reputation as the best army in the world for a couple hundred years.

  The young men were armed with training swords made of wood. The thin layer of sweat on their faces suggested they already had a healthy run in the snow. Full of awe they watched Renaldo, who just ended a complicated sequence with the grace of a wildcat.

  Kalad spoke admiringly. “And here you can see a master at work. Strictly speaking, he’s the best among us. Lord Renaldo, the Angel of Death.”

  Renaldo shot Kalad an angry glare for his pompous, and not entirely serious, introduction. “I’m sure the men know who I am. After all, they’ve sworn fealty to me. You can cut the cute talk.” Renaldo’s voice dripped with venom.

  Kalad grimaced. “Aren’t we Mr. Sunshine today?” Then he narrowed his eyes and really looked at Renaldo. “Tell me, when did you fight with Casto?”

  “What makes you think we had a fight?”

  “Because you’re as irritated as two cubs with only one honeycomb. You’re only in that kind of mood when you have trouble with your beautiful, arrogant lover, who thinks he’s better than the rest of us. So tell me, when did Casto go back to his old self?”

  Renaldo was looking daggers at Kalad. He didn’t like it in the least how Kalad was talking about his heart, and he would pay for his impertinence. “This morning. It was loud and ugly and unnecessary. Satisfied?”

  Kalad held up his fist in a gesture of triumph. He turned to Aegid, who’d been watching Renaldo warily. The giant was a very sensitive man, who could clearly feel the anger emanating from Renaldo.

  Kalad, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to it. “I told you Casto would never be able to keep up the obedient front! Ha! So the pot’s mine!”

  “Wait a moment. Are you telling me you had a bet on when Casto and I were going to fight again?” Renaldo didn’t know if he should be enraged or amused.

  Kalad shot him a disarming smile. “As of late, you haven’t given us much opportunity for bets. Your relationship was too stable. But that you would fight again was as sure as the next sunrise, so we dared it once more. The bet isn’t only between Aegid and me. The other Emeris wagered as well. But of course I was right. Can you imagine that Noemi seriously thought you’d persevere till the end of this week without getting at each other’s throats? Sometimes she’s truly naive. I’m still surprised that Casto was so obedient on our way home, but he was tired and wounded then.”

  “And you’re stepping on thin ice, Kalad.”

  Renaldo’s voice had a menacing quality. He didn’t hold it against the others that they’d joined the bet—he would have done the same—but he was still angry about his fight with Casto and needed an outlet for his feelings.

  Kalad still seemed oblivious, and even his leader’s last sentence didn’t faze him. “I never step on thin ice. If anything, I dance on quicksand.”

  “Which just ceased to support you. I need some exercise. You, Aegid, and your trainees against me. Strictly for training purposes, of course.”

  Kalad smiled broadly. He still hadn’t realized how seriously pissed Renaldo was. “Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair?”

  Renaldo watched the faces of the young men, some of whom looked as if they would throw up at any mome
nt. Their antennae for impending danger were working well. “Very well. Nobody can call me unjust.”

  He handed Aegid the heavy wooden sword he’d been using, stepped aside, and blindfolded himself with a silken cloth somebody had left in the hall. He went back to Aegid, took back his sword, and stopped in front of the warriors. “Let’s begin.”

  Kalad turned to the ten young men. “Today’s your lucky day. You have the chance to fight against Lord Renaldo himself. For the time of the fight, you forget that he’s your leader and a demigod. He’s nothing more than an enemy you have to defeat. Whoever manages to bring him down can be sure to receive a generous reward. Fight like we’ve trained you and listen to our commands, understood?”

  A many-voiced and slightly trembling yes resounded from the ranks of the recruits.

  Kalad turned to Renaldo, his own training sword ready. “We’re good to go.”

  Renaldo nodded, and the fight began.

  Of course, it still wasn’t fair. The blindfold wasn’t really a handicap for Renaldo. If anything, it excluded all distractions and helped him to focus solely on the fight. His opponents were no greenhorns—the Pack only accepted the best, and each young man had undergone excellent training before coming to the Valley. In addition they had been under the care of the desert brothers since last fall. The merciless discipline that was a big part of the success of the Pack was already engraved into their very being.

  Like a well-oiled machine, they followed their instructors’ orders, and once or twice they even managed to trouble Renaldo. But one after another was defeated by him, and Renaldo noticed that none of these men could come close to Casto’s fervor or ability. Not to mention the shrewd unpredictability that made the prince a serious opponent even for Renaldo.

  After Renaldo had disarmed Aegid and Kalad too and shown them all their place, he pulled off the blindfold.