The Bond - 9. Chapter 9

“Enough of that,” Alex said with a sleepy laugh and luxurious grin. He pushed Carl’s hands away and towards his own chest, which had been supporting Alexandre’s head just a moment ago. Fine sheets draped from the two men’s entangled mess of arms and legs, and warm sunlight brought out the shine in Alexandre’s dark hair. He ran his hands along the length of Carl’s biceps, drawn to the body heat and toned muscle that gave his bed shelter.

“I just want to feel it, one more time,” Carl said with a cheeky grin. He went to move his hands, and Alexandre swatted them away playfully. “Please?” he asked, doing his best impression of a poor, innocent creature in need of comfort. He looked longingly into the eyes of his lover, the desire to explore another’s body clear. Alex rolled his eyes.

“Alright, once more.” He lay back relaxed, still with a lazy smile on his face. Carl’s hands ran up the length of his thighs, and around back to grasp two cheeks that he squeezed gently. His thumbs moved in small circles, parting the more malleable flesh. They reached his opening, and slight pressure made him take in a sharp, pleasured breath. He felt himself stiffening, which Carl most definitely noticed.

“You see,” said the older male with a devilish smile, “I know you enjoy that.” He leaned in, burying his face in Alexandre’s smaller frame and planting kisses along his neck. Flicks of the tongue began, and before long kisses turned to hard sucking. Alex ground his pelvis up into his lover’s, hardness meeting hardness. The friction pleasured them both, and Alexandre was at a loss for breath as a rhythm developed. Alex grasped the sheets, taking a clutched fistful of the soft material into his palm.

“Take me again,” he said between frantic kisses and longing pulls into each other. Carl needed no further prompting, and spat onto his hand, which he then rubbed on them both. For a moment, their frenzied movements stopped and, eye contact was made. As one man breathed out, the other breathed in. Their foreheads pressed together, and a few moments passed as Alexandre felt his partner slide into him. Both boys referenced gods and saints in this moment of unity.

I’m going to regret this later, Alex thought. I’m already sore. Again, a rhythm started, and breath quickened. Their faces were still touching, and gasps for breath were only punctuated with sounds of pleasure. The distinctive sound of flesh on flesh rang throughout the bedroom, and neither man could stop smiling into each other.

“My prince?” said a petite voice with a loud rap on the door. Both boys stopped immediately, and the room that had just been filled with the clamor of lovemaking went silent instantaneously.

Oh no, Alex thought. Please don’t let that be Carmine. He felt his face turn bright red, and pushed back so that Carl’s hard member came out of him.

“Um, yes?” called Carl, who was considerably less shameless. He had protested silently when Alex removed himself from his body, and was now sliding himself back in.

“Your presence has been requested in the council room.” The girl’s voice had not been the queen, merely one of the many servants around the castle. Tension in Alexandre’s shoulders was released, and he struggled to use his hands to still his partner’s torso from continued thrusting with an inaudible giggle.

“Sure.” He spoke with a waver in his voice, undoubtedly trying to hold in moans of ecstasy. He had overpowered Alex, and was now was thrusting at full pace again. “I’ll be there in a little bit,” he called towards the door over his shoulder. He now looked down at Alex, who had since given up trying to be decent and had resorted to lying on his back with eyes closed and a smile on his face. His toes were curled, and Carl smiled. Alex admitted internally that he adored this kind of attention, and loved that he could lay bare before this man without feeling any vulnerability. Even with legs splayed and while being penetrated, Alexandre felt completely safe. I want this forever, he thought. Carl was now hunched over closer towards him, thrusting his lower torso with considerable speed. He was careful so as to not produce the sound of skin slapping together and reveal what was going on, but the heavy wooden bedframe was beginning to squeak.

“I’m sorry my prince, but I’m afraid this request is for your immediate arrival. General Di Coteau’s as well.” Carl scrunched up his face in annoyance, but continued moving in and out of Alex.

“Just a minute, please,” he called. “No need for too much urgency,” he said to the servant beyond the door while giving Alex a wink.

“My prince, I really think – “

“Let my father know I’ll be down within the half hour. And Alex will be there as well,” he said in a friendly voice.

“My prince, General Ysabel Clarion has been spotted marching towards the Cathcart palace with an army. She’s broken through the normal confines of the front line and is on her way now.”

Alexandre’s face, flushed and bearing the signs of great physical pleasure, went instantly to pale stone. Carlin froze, still inside Alexandre, and shook his head as if to clear his ears. Alex shoved Carl off of him, and began to dress immediately into the clothes that were scattered about the floor. He practically jumped into a pair of black pants, while tucking a shirt into the waistline and strapping on the boots he typically wore on the battlefield. They were made of black scale plate, and had bladed points at both heel and toe. Carl was dazed, sitting on the bed, but was beginning to move into a nearby jerkin.

“Tell King Cathcart we’re coming immediately,” said Alex. He heard the footsteps of the servant walk away briskly, and turned towards Carl. “I’d change into something that can be worn beneath your mail.” Alex began crossing towards a mannequin that displayed his armor and ceremonial pieces, including the two swords that his father had commissioned for him. Perhaps they’ll see use today, he thought darkly. As he began strapping a leather bracer onto the left forearm, Carl caught him.

“It will be alright,” he said. Alex looked up into the deep blue eyes of the older man, and gave what he hoped was a smile. “I hope so,” he said quietly. They lingered for just a moment, before moving to find the articles that they each needed. “We’ll finish later,” Carl said with a wink. He had meant to be light-hearted, but Alex could hear the note of fear in his voice. Deeper beneath that, though, there was a note of unspoken declaration that Alex had also detected. I love you too. Both accelerated into a rush of changing, donning pre-battle attire.

Mother, Alex thought. What are you doing?

***

General Clarion sat atop her steed rigidly, still fighting to remain in complete control of her body after the past several hours. The demon fought her relentlessly, and surged to make a reappearance at the sight of the two things that mattered most to her in life; battle and family. Since joining in the fight at the Tomacian border, Ysabel had since washed and donned her best armor. She wore mainly black leather and some scale, with light ring mail pieces showing through her outfit every so often. Her armor was light and flexible, just as she was. In reality, a well-aimed stroke of the sword would most likely go straight through it and into her body, but Ysabel knew well enough not to let her enemies gain any ground enough so as to do so. The ceremonial, almost decorative nature of her war gear was affirmed by the embellishments it bore. Mother of pearl stripes and carvings were hard pressed into boiled crimson leather around her waist, and obsidian studs ran down the sides of her black riding boots. When she finally came into view of a Tomacian army headed by a few familiar faces, her other self struggled ferociously to take command of the body that was already dressed up for killing.

Ysabel saw them at a great distance, probably about a mile or so out from where they stood. Four horses rode out ahead of a wall of soldiers, which covered the top of a steep green hill. From her viewpoint in the valley below, men stretched as far as she could see in either direction along the horizon. In fairness, the valley in which two armies stood at odds with each other curved off to make an almost circular basin, so the number of men at the command of Tomacia was difficult to guess. They picked a good spot to meet me in. Higher ground, difficult visibility… I wonder whose idea that was. She looked around and up ahead of her, but was dismayed to realize that she couldn’t see how many rows deep this display was. They could have 500 men, or they could have 5,000. She frowned, and realized that she and her newly-blooded troops may not be in a particularly good position, as disciplined as they were.

Interesting, Alex. She looked up, and saw her son riding towards her in the distance. He was atop a black mare, and three others followed in V formation behind him. At the sight of his face, she took a sharp breath in.

He could be Darion with just a few years and a gray streak in his hair. Ysabel’s heart sank, and she mulled over just how true it was. Alex was in full battle regalia, a dark crimson cloak streaming out behind him and billowing in the wind as he rode. His black hair was slicked back in the traditional Nabian war fashion, hard-gelled so as not to get in his face or move in the midst of battle. His armor, domineering stature, and downward-sloped eyebrows were reminiscent of his father, and the mounting of his swords diagonally across the back was similar to how the late general Darion had worn his war axe. All in all, she was surprised to see the intimidating picture he made on the battlefield. Where as her son had inherited a stature more like the Clarion family’s, his aptitude for war, seriousness, and posture was Di Coteau in nature. Indeed, Alexandre was no stranger to war, and it showed. My son.

Ysabel’s leg lurched out in a spasm, kicking the front leg of her horse. It whinnied and moved towards the right, running into Marcus’s horse. A gentle cooing from him set both horses straight, and they resumed their posture.

Let me in. They have the advantage. You’ll need me to live.

I am not going to war with my own son. Silence.

She looked up again, noticing that the party approaching hers had slowed to a stop. Alex had held his hand up, beckoning his group to halt. He had obviously noticed the erratic shift in his mother, and was seemingly warning his companions of her potential loss of control. She supposed it was wise, but she still did not like the idea of her son fearing her. Well. Fearing me too much.

She pushed her horse into a trot to meet the party at the center of the battlefield, and looked at Alexandre’s companions.

Talia? That came as a shock to her. Wondering if Talia was so keenly tuned into Ysabel’s changes in moods as her brother, Ysabel squinted against the bright green field, stopping only to guide her steed across a small brook that slashed the verdant valley. Yes, there is no doubt that is her. Talia rode with an ease similar to her uncle or mother, and had the bodily positioning of a Clarion. Light, easy, and always poised to knick a crucial artery if needed. Added to the fact that her hair was a pink and red conflagration in the light of the sun, there was no doubt that Ysabel now rode towards her daughter.

I had figured that she was off on a more covert mission… but she backs her brother. Perhaps there is more to the picture that I am not understanding. As the groups of horses carrying leaders of both Nabius and Tomacia approached each other, Ysabel contemplated what she was going to say. She looked towards the third and fourth riders in her son’s party. One, she dismissed as a simple head of militia based on his identifying garb. Tomacians had strict senses of order, and it was always an easy ordeal to guess who was who regarding rank. But the other was no doubt Alexandre’s betrothed, wearing gleaming armor that could only be suited for a member of the Cathcart family.

At least he looks able bodied. Ysabel looked over Prince Carlisle Cathcart carefully, seeing his large stature and muscles that would have been needed just to wear such armor. And if the great sword at his back isn’t indication of strength, I don’t know what is. The sheer size of his weapon reminded her of Devan Di Coteau’s great war hammer, which she could barely lift. Added to the fact that she knew her son valued defense and military prowess, she assumed that the prince was capable. She had never believed that Tomacians were weaker than Nabians by default, but still was glad to see that her son had chosen someone who was at the very least imposing. His motivations were completely unclear to her, but while crossing a battlefield at the brink of two great armies, small comforts were appreciated.

He’s handsome too, she thought.

Let fuck him before we kill him, spat the demon in the back of her mind. Ysabel rolled her eyes, completely in control.

Silence. She urged onwards, noticing that she was farther from her army than Alexandre was from his. He had all of the advantages in his court, and it saddened her to realize that he clearly expected a fight. And Talia is with him too. Do my own children think me such a monster?

We are a monster.

You are.

Ysabel finally rode up to those across from her, looking Carl in the eyes the whole time. She noticed a smattering of little freckles across his face, and the wind made his chestnut hair dance in little waves across his eyes from time to time. Still making eye contact with the Tomacian and feeling the stares of all individuals at the circle, she opened her mouth.

“Hello my darlings.”

***

Carl could feel the general’s stare piercing into his soul with the intensity of a thousand suns. He refused to break eye contact, unsure of whether or not it would show weakness of some kind. Nabians, it seemed, had all sorts of unspoken social gestures and rules that he didn’t fully understand and typically had dismissed as hogwash. Alex had tried to teach him some of the more important ones, but he had always blown them off. He thought now perhaps he should have paid more attention, wondering if there was something he needed to say before a war or just as greeting. This was, after all, his first impression of his future mother-in-law, and hers of himself. He felt immediately vulnerable at being near her, a trait that Talia had most definitely inherited from her mother. He had seen Ysabel from a distance once while being slaved away, but from a great distance and never at a time where he could get a good look at her face. Ysabel had been separated from her husband at the time of his stay with the Di Coteaus, forced to live apart in accordance with marital law. Now getting a very full and intense look at her, Carl resisted the urge to inspect, instead using his peripherals.

She looks so young. Almost like Talia’s sister more than her mother, but definitely a resemblance. He could tell Ysabel was doing the same to him, and wondered what she was thinking.

“Mother,” said Alex.

“Mother,” repeated Talia.

Ysabel’s gaze lingered one more second on Carl before she broke into a white, toothy, and venomous grin. She pulled her head aside to look at her children, holding the same smile.

Definitely Talia’s mother.

“My children,” she said while beaming. “It is so good to see you after all this time.” She rode forward, so that her horse was in between Alexandre and Talia’s. She stuck her arm out, and Alexandre did the same. Both grabbed each other beneath the elbow, clasped together. She turned, and did the same to Talia. Carl thought back to the hug his mother gave him upon his return while he watched this gesture between mother and child, ordinarily a greeting between warriors.

“And you too,” said Alex slowly. There was a length silence as Ysabel backed her horse up and resumed facing the group, falling in line with the men that Carl assumed were her military leaders and advisors.

“So,” she said with a tilt of her head, “introduce me.” Alex looked perturbed, and began speaking.

“This is Carlisle Cathcart, son of Richard and Carmine… the Cathcart master at arms Winston Holmes, and I believe you know your own daughter.” Ysabel gave another smile, and nodded her head towards Carl.

“A pleasure,” she said with somewhat of a rumble in her throat.

“The pleasure is all mine, General Clarion. I’ve heard much about you.” It was the most diplomatic answer he could think of at the moment, and Carl felt a bit confused at the situation that he was in.

“All true,” she said. “So, my children, why?” she asked sweetly. Alex cleared his throat, before beginning a talk that he had gone over with Carl on the way to this field.

“Well, mother… I told you, and all of Nabius, really, that I was planning on change. You remember?”

“In the arena,” she said, “oh yes. A rather dashing declaration.”

“It all starts with this. The institution of war and the political maneuvers that Nabius has been forced into doing for the past, well almost century have – “

“How does this marriage change any institution, dear one? Did you not think this through?” there was a hint of anger in her voice that Carl didn’t like. He felt confident that Ysabel didn’t intend war based on the fact that she rode willingly into a greatly disadvantaged battle scenario, but he still found any aggression on her part unsettling. Evidently he had started because of it, as Ysabel had flashed him a look out of her emerald eyes before fixing her gaze once again on her son. The look she had given him was similar to one that Jezebel often wore, and Carl disliked that

even further.

“I thought this through quite hard, mother,” said Alex. There was a tone used there that even shocked Carlin a little because of how authoritative it was. His partner could be imposing if he wanted to, and Carl thought that he took that after his father. He had sounded just like him. Ysabel gave notice of this, and raised one eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“Mother, Nabius suffers greatly. We are plagued with the filth of men like Evangelo Mortisse and Yonin Meko, both who met ends at the hands of like-minded individuals.”

“Agreed. Both were vermin.”

“And it is imperative that we bring an end to what they do and their very existence. It may not be the Nabian way, but there are other methods of controlling and reshaping the world besides battle. Conquering is what we do, but not always a must.” Ysabel was frowning, and Carl could tell that she wasn’t impressed.

“So you’re saying that an alliance with Tomacia would help to curb the swell of men like these?”

“Exactly. If we can stop the fighting that they feed off of, we could really help to – “

“The council would never approve of such an alliance. You are foolish to even suggest it my son, how could you possibly think that Nabius would roll over to the halting of a war based on this?” Alex looked annoyed.

“So we always pay attention to the demands of the council, is that it mother?” asked Talia smartly. Ysabel turned a glare on her.

“Our discretions are our own, you know that the thirteen will overlook the smaller details, especially with the Di Coteau name. But we would be nothing if not for the council of thirteen, nothing. They keep us in the positions we have, and fuel the existence of our very country. You would do well to remember that, and show them more respect.” Talia tilted her head away. Feeling that this chat was becoming less then amicable, Carl decided to chime in, perhaps in a language that Ysabel might have understood better.

“General Clarion, Alexandre’s unity to me in marriage provides him with quite a sizeable army. I’m not at liberty to give away the whole strength of Tomacia, but with our combined forces, I think your thirteen may have to consider it.”

Ysabel looked at him, giving him a very obvious up and down. She paused, leaned back for a moment, and appeared to give it some thought. A small straightening on the back of her horse gave Carl the impression that she had reached some sort of conclusion, and the gleam in her eye told him he was right. She looked at her son, and visibly relaxed and smiled.

“I’m sorry for doubting you, especially given your track record. You should have just warned me that you planned a takeover. After all, I am your mother, and a marriage occurring without me even knowing… you can imagine my surprise.”

“And I’m sure you can imagine the need for secrecy… there were assassins already, and it wasn’t even a public wedding. But yes, as I was saying, Carl and I creating an alliance could end things entirely, and we could reshape Nabius,” Alex said.

“We absolutely could. With the Di Coteau total management of the government, you can do anything you want my dear. I am sure you will become a saint yourself one day,” Ysabel cooed. Carl thought that the look she was giving her son now was like the looks his mother gave him when she was extremely proud of him.

“Excuse me? I don’t want total management of Nabius, just to end the war and make Nabius a better place to live for its people…”

“Yes, yes,” Ysabel said with a waving hand gesture. As she did so, metal on metal made a harsh noise that made Carl notice the blades on her fingers for the first time.

Oh my.

“You can do whatever you want once we own Nabius. Should I send word to the family to start preparations for the coup? I expect we’ll need a good deal of strength.”
“Mother,” Alex said forcefully, “there will be no coup. Even if that’s what I wanted how would marrying a Tomacian help me? Let me explain to you what I’m planning.” Ysabel looked confused again, and her countenance darkened.

“My darling son… with the three Di Coteau Generals, Yago and I, and your Tomacian army, we could take Nabius for ourselves. And the council meeting that has been called in light of your marriage is the perfect place to finish off the other generals. It will be an historic day,” she said with white teeth gleaming.

“Mother. Carl’s army is to show strength and indicate to the rest of the world that we can be a powerful couple, one that they should respect. You of all people should know that that’s what marriage is for in Nabius.” Ysabel gave him a dangerous look, but her silence bade him to go on. “You’re missing the point… this marriage is to form a peace agreement with Tomacia. No more fighting, no more war. And the other generals of Nabius will vote for me because of the sheer power it gives us as a country, to have the combined forces of Nabius and Tomacia. The saints know that all of the other generals are suffering from internal problems already anyway, this could give them time to focus on that… to help their people…”

“To be heroes, like you in the games?” Ysabel asked skeptically. “I think you’re missing a real opportunity here Alex. We could take this country over.”

“And if we fail? We’re ousted from power, killed, and no one gains. Why take this risk when we can let a simple vote decide? All we need is for a few generals to say yes, and I think we will get the majority. If we don’t, and it comes to civil war… then we’ll find out if we really can take it over I suppose.” Alex shifted position in his saddle, and fixed his gaze upon his mother’s.

Ysabel sat up straighter, and appeared to mull the proposition over slowly. A long while passed while nothing was said, and Carl was beginning to get tired. The sun was hot, and being in full armor under the ardent blaze was draining. Though I could be fighting a battle right now. Lets be grateful for the small things. After that thought, he sat up a little more attentively. Finally, Ysabel spoke again.

“Very well. We’ll put it to a vote. I’ll write to your uncles saying you have my full support, and see if I can reach General Orr as well. The meeting will be soon, and I believe its your turn to host it.”

“Thank you, mother.” Alex sounded relieved, and Carl took that as a sign that he could be relieved as well. Ysabel simply nodded.

“When will you be leaving? Have the Tomacians send you off as soon as you possibly can. There is work to do.” Alex looked her dead in the face, then at Carl, and then back to his mother.

“We came prepared to die,” said Talia. “Battle ready.”

“We’ll leave at once. We can’t very well march a Tomacian army through Devan and Damien’s territories, and it’d be better to have an escort, especially now that word of my marriage has spread. We’ll travel with you.” Ysabel nodded at her son, and turned her horse to the side.

“Catch up when you can,” she said. “Come,” she said to her advisors. As one of them turned, Carl noticed ritual scarring on the back of the neck of a huge black man. He recognized it instantly as an indication of a particular warrior tribe from the southern provinces, and felt very uneasy at the thought of Alex traveling near this man.

Alex, he thought. Slowly, loss donned on him. Talia had ridden ahead to her mother, who was trotting back towards her army. Commander Holmes had turned back towards his own army, and just Alex and Carl stood in no man’s land, with thousands of men in two armies facing them on their two lonesome horses.

“You’re going? Now?” he said with a waver in his voice. Alexandre’s eyes were dark and sad, and his grief was plainly written on his face.

“I had to eventually,” he said. The younger man looked down, and Carl reached out and tilted his chin up.

“We didn’t even get to finish one last time together,” he said pleadingly. It was a last ditch effort to be humorous. It failed.

“Next time, my love.” Alexandre closed his eyes, and sighed, not letting emotions take control of him.

Damn these Nabians. You can never tell what they’re thinking. But Carl knew what his husband was thinking, and knew that the sadness of separation was eroding both their spirits by the second.

“You will come back to me. You’re the best fighter I’ve ever seen, and people will help you. Will help us. There’s good in Nabius, I’ve seen it.” Alex smiled at this comfort, and spoke a small word of thanks.

“I mean it. Not goodbye. I’ll see you soon.” Carl could feel his vision getting blurry, and turned his head away. This time, Alex turned his chin.

“I love you, with all of my heart,” he spoke softly. Those words cracking his internal shell, Carl let a few tears roll.

“I love you too.” He pulled Alexandre in for a kiss, long and wet and warm, with both hands grasping each other’s and bodies as close as they could be while on horseback. They lingered there for a bit, somberly enjoying this last bit of company.

“I’ll see you later,” Alex said to him. With that, Carl watched his young husband turn and gallop off towards a retreating Nabian army.

Good luck.