The Alliance - 26. Chapter 26

“Tell me.” Ysabel sat at her desk, strumming bladed fingers over its hard stone surface. Each click echoed through the room, which was otherwise entirely silent. Only Marcus, her new captain, stood across from the desk. He was rigid as ever, and his dark skin made him the center of the room against the white marble that made up everything else. He was large and imposing towering over the desk, but was still dwarfed by the massive size of the room.

“The order should be arriving tonight. Do you trust this girl?”

Ysabel looked Marcus up and down, narrowing her eyes. She wasn’t used to anyone asking questions at all, only giving answers. Ordinarily, I would take this for insolence. But I think he asks to ensure that my plans go through… loyalty, but not out of fear.

“Yes. Meredith is more than capable, and has been serving in the manse for years. Jezebel’s told me all about atrocities that have been going on and says that the girl is loyal to her. Stupid as she is, she always does keep a flock working for her everywhere she goes. Come.” The general stood up, and starting walking down the great room that was now her office. Marcus joined her side, a great deal taller than her and much more muscular. His arms and legs bulged as he walked, carrying shield and spear.

“Good.” Ysabel looked over to him once again, curious as to why he would support her.

“How are my soldiers?” she asked as they exited the office, turning down one hall and preparing to head outside. It was another inspection day, and her small army had learned quickly not to disappoint her.

“Fair. They are strong and skilled, but their endurance could use some work. Many southern Ironians would best at least half of them.” He said it factually and confidently, not seeming to be phased by the fact that that statement could put him in danger. Ysabel wondered if he didn’t realize that she was not known for being receptive to bad news, or if he simply didn’t care and was honest.

Either way, it makes him a fool… though a different kind than the other bumbling idiots around here. I approve.

“Get them in line. General Torne is sending me one-hundred more men from her region, and I expect that General Orr will agree to some from his soon as well. You will have many more under your command shortly.”

“Very good, General.” The pair walked out of the manse and down a hill, approaching a string of tents and training grounds. There were slaves and soldiers alike camped out there, all of which fell under Ysabel’s jurisdiction. Marcus and Ysabel rounded one row of tents, and found the large field in the center of it all, where each soldier was standing perfectly still and in near rows. For the impressive amount of people there, it was incredibly quiet. Only a few birds and the wind against tent flaps and flags made noise, and Ysabel noticed that they were even spaced equally apart with heads held in the same position everywhere. Raising an eyebrow, she looked back at Marcus, and slowly nodded.

“You’ve done well,” she said curiously.

“Thank you General. In Ironia, I served a similar position as leader of my tribe's war-men.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said with a drawl. Ysabel started walking down the lines, inspecting men and women that seemed to stiffen even more as she got near. She noticed that armor was polished, weapons were sharp, and many of her soldiers had fresh training bruises and cuts. Many seemed exhausted, probably from workouts assigned by her new captain. Some had beads of sweat, but others seemed to be positively ready for war. Ysabel inspected the first two rows, but then stopped at the front of the third. There was a rather large man heading the third row, who was sweating profusely and had ragged breathing.

“What is your name?” she asked while placing the tip of a claw underneath his chin.

“Maxwell, General Clarion,” he said with obvious nerve and fatigue.

“Has Marcus been working you, Maxwell?” The man looked between Marcus and Ysabel, obviously unsure of what to say. Saying yes would speak to laziness and further work from Marcus, but saying no would lead to Ysabel’s displeasure. Ysabel was glad when he replied, as his answer implied that he feared her even more.

“Yes, General Clarion.” Ysabel ran a bladed finger over the flappy skin underneath his chin, peeling a chunk of it off. The man moaned in pain, but managed to stay still even as a small lump of flesh plopped to the ground before his feet.

“Excellent. Keep up the work, and make your body stronger by losing this fat. If you don’t, I’ll cut it off myself.”

Maxwell nodded, and replied with another “yes, General Clarion.” Ysabel and Marcus walked on, continuing their inspection. Ysabel mentioned that she wanted to see their combat training, and made to stand at the edge of the field. Marcus shouted the order, and joined her while the troops scurried around to prepare to demonstrate their skills. One boy with dark hair darted past her, and she was briefly reminded of her son.

Where are you, Alex… a good general does not abandon his post directly after appointment unless for good reason. She briefly was annoyed with her son’s disappearance and leaving a prostitute in charge, but remembered that it would all be taken care of. She fought half-heartedly for control with the demon after thoughts of her family, and leaned against a fence while watching the fight. Absentmindedly, she raised a claw to her lips and tasted the metallic blood of Maxwell. Disgusting.

“Nymira smiles upon you, General Clarion,” Marcus said with a grin as he watched the men and women he had trained so diligently run combat drills.

Ysabel racked her brains and frowned. Who is Nymira? There is no saint by that name.

“Who is Nymira? What do they know of me?” she snapped. Deeply from the stomach, Marcus laughed aloud. His deep voice boomed over the field, and Ysabel flashed to instant anger before she realized that he was not laughing at her. She was curious, and actually waited for him to finish for his answer.

“Nymira is no being, General. Nymira is the goddess of my home, and she knows everything about you. You please her very much.” Ysabel paused, and then rolled her eyes at her captain’s frivolous religious beliefs.

“Marcus, let me share something with you,” she said condescendingly and with some boredom in her voice. “The favor of gods and goddesses does not mean anything in this world; they do not exist. A goddess does not control the land.” She glanced towards him, a strand of hair falling over her eyes before she blew it back into place.

Marcus smiled at her, showing white teeth and seeming unaffected. He leaned on a fence post, and looked out to the troops mocking battle. “If the gods do not control this world, then we would be lost. If not them, who?” he asked, but it wasn’t phrased as a question.

His eyebrows rose and he cracked another small smile when Ysabel answered. “Me.”

***

Luca sat in Alexandre’s chair, strumming his fingers and rubbing the dark circles under his eyes as he sorted through letter after letter. Hoards of counts and officials and nobles were furious with him, writing menacing letters and coming in for abrupt visits at all hours of the day. Luca had closed almost every brothel in Mullansburg, and diverted funds from many a business in order to arm the common folk. He was especially unpopular after changing the goods flowing from the Illjard, reducing luxuries and increasing foods. It had been another long day of being yelled at by vain nobles, and Luca was tired. He sighed, sat back in his chair, and began to pick at the food that was on a plate Alfie had sent up. At least he likes me.

“You should really eat more, you know,” said Eamon from across the room. He was standing guard near the door, the only other person in the Di Coteau office. Instead of an upright, attentive position though, he was leaning against his wall and had his spear casually balanced in his crossed arms. Luca looked up at him, exhausted and defeated.

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks.” Luca sighed, and put a bite into his mouth.

“You know, Luca, you could just lie to the visitors you get.” Eamon strode across the room towards the desk as he talked, leaving his spear at the door. “Nabians are more receptive to that than the truths they don’t want to hear.” He sat on the huge desk, moving aside a bottle of ink and a pile of papers. Luca frowned but didn’t say anything about it.

“What do you mean?” he asked with a sigh.

“General Di Coteau – Darion, that is – did it all the time with the academy heads. No one here is ever going to be happy with the funds and resources they have.” He paused, and looked Luca directly in the eyes. “It’s kind of the nature of Nabians to want more. Instead of cutting them off and telling them to deal with it in all of these meetings… just lie.”

Luca made a confused look, and sat forward in his chair, eating some more. “How? I can’t just tell them that they have money or that their businesses aren’t hurt when that’s obviously not the case.”

“No,” Eamon agreed, “but you can make some reparative promises. General Darion used to promise more funding for the academy all the time, and I’m sure he did with everyone else. If people are told that they’re going to get something in return for what you’re taking, they’re a lot more likely to be complacent.” Luca grumbled about having a few ideas concerning what he’d like to give the upper class of Mullansburg in return, and Eamon smiled. “You don’t have to actually come through on any promises you make, you know. Alex will take over as soon as he gets back.”

Luca gave it some thought, but shook his head. “No, Eamon. Even though I live here now, I’m not a Nabian. I can’t just lie to these people like that. Most of them want me dead anyway, and once Alex gets back I’ll lose any protection I have now. Its best just to try to manage things as they are and not cause any more trouble for myself down the road.”

“Alright Luca,” Eamon said. He gave one of his dazzling smiles, and readjusted his position on the desk. “I’m just trying to help. And I’ll still guard you when Alex gets back, if you want.”

Luca looked up at Eamon, preparing to roll his eyes at the incessant flirting. He was surprised when Eamon didn’t seem to be flashing overly seductive looks, though, and instead gave a small but genuine thanks.

“You know, I just want what’s best for you…” Eamon leaned in, and placed his hand on top of Luca’s.

Okay. That’s definitely flirting. Luca became annoyed again, and looked up at his handsome bodyguard. If he didn’t do this with everyone and make me uncomfortable all the time, he might seem like less of an ass. But Luca didn’t rip his hand away immediately, and looked back at Eamon. He is actually pretty attractive…

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Luca sat up straight while Eamon stood up off of the desk.

“Yes?”

A familiar female voice answered back. “It’s Meredith, Alfie’s sent up another plate.” Luca relaxed, glad it wasn’t any late-night visitor come to lay into him.

“Come in.” The doors open, and the girl walked across the hall.

I don’t know why he sends so much to me. I’ll make sure Eamon eats it.

Meredith crossed the hall slowly and Luca made eye contact with Eamon one more time before turning to face her.

“Thank you, Meredith,” Luca said with a smile. The girl walked over closer to him, with a rather large platter that she seemed to be having trouble balancing. She placed the meal in his hands instead of the desk, and Luca noticed Eamon give a small start of shock before he began to move quickly. Luca was confused until he felt the pain suddenly, and looked down at his own body. From underneath the tray, the serving girl had stuck a dagger directly into him. Luca gasped, and looked her in the eyes.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

***

Alexandre was nothing short of amazed by the heart of Tomacia. A close network of streams and rivers were offset by the raging greenery of its lush forests and fields, which was only matched in beauty by the Cathcart palace. The castle was enormous, on a small island of it’s own in the dead center of a lake. Indeed, he was certain he hadn’t seen anything larger in his life. Even the churches of St. Ignacious didn’t feature towers as high as the average tower on this palace, and the grounds it covered had to be at least quadruple the size of the Di Coteau manse. It was all white stone covered in growing vines, with blue-tiled roofs that gleamed vibrantly in the sun. The Tomacians were proud of their royal family, and it certainly showed. Alex had assumed that Carl had come from a grand background, but the Cathcart palace was beyond anything he had imagined. He had expected it to be something along the lines of the smaller Monciet castle that he had conquered, or like one of the manses owned by a general of the Thirteen. Even after a few days of living there, Alexandre was still in awe.

The rest of Tomacia’s central area was also beautiful, though Alex hadn’t been able to do much exploring or show his face there for fear of recognition. Various bridges connected smaller islands on many more lakes, and whole towns floated on complex buoy systems across the wet plains. The villages seemed to be woven in with the hills, and he had even heard that there was a small Ironian settlement in the capitol of Tomacia that was entirely suspended in the trees of a nearby forest. Nothing about Tomacia was like Nabius, and Alex had begun to worry about being conspicuous because of just how much he didn’t blend in.

“You have that look on your face again,” Carlisle said as he propped himself up against a pillow. The two were in bed, and Carl’s muscular frame was covered by nothing but a blue and gold sheet that draped across him gracefully. The sheet came only up to his waist, leaving his chest bare and abs very close to Alexandre’s face. Alex was laying on his back, looking up at the man leaning over him.

“What look?” he asked with a frown.

“The kind of look where you’re thinking or plotting, and stressing. You’re not really here with me.”

Alex sighed, and apologized. “Sorry. I know. It’s just difficult with everyone noticing me… noticing us. We’re not blending in, and I’m sure your parents are wondering why a group of Nabians escorted you home.” That much was true. All attention had been on the group, and Alex felt uncomfortable with it. Every village and market that the group passed through on the way to the throne had recognized Carl instantly, and celebrations roared on as they approached. The Tomacian prince had returned from whatever mission he had been on, and the people were joyous. By the time Carl and his group had gotten to the outskirts of the castle, an entire procession was awaiting them, including the monarchs of the nation.

When they had approached the castle gates, Alexandre had expected to have to fight off at least a few soldiers. His hands had been itching to whip out his swords, and his eyes scanned constantly for traps. Alex had expected assassins to be lying in wait in every crowd, and for an army of guards to surround the king and queen. He was shocked when the two ran forward to hug their son, who was standing right next to him. The leaders of this nation had placed themselves right in the middle of a group of Nabians, and Alex could have assassinated them both right then and there if he had wanted. Exchanging looks with Talia told him that she was equally confused, but the plan hinged upon their being welcomed - he wasn’t there for that. The Cathcarts didn’t know who he was, and yet risked death in front of a large crowd of people just to greet their child. That arrival was strange, and it was stranger still to Alex that his entire group was assigned rooms and thrown a welcoming feast without any questions. Carl smiled and led the way confidently, and the Nabians that had brought him home simply followed in a confused daze. This was not like Nabius, and Alex felt that the entire experience of his welcome thus far had been surreal.

How do these people not fear me or call for a trial immediately? They’ve seen us all in our black and red and still let us live near the king and queen and taken us into their palace… hell, Talia has even slept with a few of the guards here. They’ve even had me share a bed with their king-to-be.Has Carl even been made to give a debriefing report?

“Are your people idiotic, Carl?” The question was abrupt and Alex regretted how rude it sounded, but he had been wondering. Ever since they had arrived, no one had said anything about their identities or questioned them once.

“No…” Carl said slowly and with a question in his voice. “Why?”

“Because I’m naked in bed with you, obviously a Nabian, and no one has any idea who we are or what we’ve done. They don’t ask questions, and your parents didn’t bat an eyelash when you swept me up to your bedchambers. They didn’t even ask you about your mission or accomplishments.”

Carl grimaced, and sat up straighter, running his hand through his lover’s hair. “I’ve told them that I would explain everything soon, in a week. They’re probably impatient and want to know who you all are, but respect and trust me enough to respect and trust you all. Honestly… everyone we’ve seen or that knows that you’ve been sharing my bed – which is everyone, by the way – is probably more curious about the fact that you’re a male than anything else.”

A male, Alex thought incredulously. One of the most dangerous humans on this planet and a Nabian General of the Thirteen and they’re wondering about our sex life… this is unreal. “Your parents?”

“They’re just glad I’m back and safe, for now. I’m going to have to update everyone on what’s going on soon, but for now… I have you to make relax,” he said with a wink. He rolled over on top of Alex, and pushed the smaller man’s legs up into the air. He slowly moved his hips into position, and pressed the tip of his member up against the softest, most vulnerable part of Alexandre’s whole body.

“Carl!” Alex gasped. “We need to come up with a plan. I’m happy to be with you again, and I’ve missed you so much, but we’re not safe here… no matter what you think about your people and how much trust and respect you have for each other.” Carl eased back down, sitting on his knees but still holding Alexandre’s ankles with his hands.

“I know. But I don’t know what that plan is, and I don’t know how Tomacia or Nabius will even handle any kind of plan that involves you and me together.”
Alex sat up a bit more, and carefully placed a hand on Carl’s arm. “Carl… you asked what I told General Nandra to get us through there.”

“I did.”

“There’s only one kind of treaty that would allow for Tomacia and Nabius to make some sort of amends and stop fighting, and it would need support from the Thirteen and your parents completely.”

“I know.”

“You know?” Alex asked with surprise in his voice.

“Yes. There’s only one legitimate way to handle this situation, and one way for you to stop the war going on. You told me before that you were going to reform Nabius completely, and I can think of only one way for you to introduce some kind of Tomacian influence.”

“The alliance will be dangerous for us both, Carl.” Alex looked up at his lover, pleading him to say what he knew. He was grasping at the sheets, terrified and overwhelmed by emotion all at the same time, but deeply hopeful. There’s only one kind of pact that we can make.

“Alexandre, we’re going to marry. And it’s going to have to work. I don’t care what the people of our countries think, because its what’s best for them and what’s best for the world.” Carl leaned in, kissing Alex with all of his strength.

Breathless, Alex pulled away for just a moment. “Yes, we’re going to have to marry.” The two began to completely thrive in their passion, all worries about the declaration between them that had now been spoken aloud dissolved.

“It will work, because I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Thank you so much for reading The Alliance! Sorry to end on a cliffhanger but stay tuned for book number two, The Bond! I really look forward to writing this next one and letting you all know where it all goes. As always, thank you as well for the reviews and feedback - it really means a lot to me.