The Bond - 11. Chapter 11

Alexandre rode in his mother’s lavish carriage as he headed home, which was a welcome reprieve from the saddle that he had been accustomed to in recent months. He enjoyed being able to sprawl his legs out wide, and sit on a pillow cushion as he made the next stage of his journey, and felt blessed to start losing the callous bruising of the inner thighs that prolonged horseback always caused. The box of the carriage in particular was a bit cramped, but he wasn’t about to complain.

I only feel bad for Barclay and Roark. Those two companions weren’t allowed in General Ysabel’s personal vehicle, which had already shirked several of its previous inhabitants to accommodate a new crowd. Marcus and Ysabel had stayed in the luxury of being carted around, given that they were the two highest-ranking officials among Ysabel’s army. Alexandre and Talia had also been welcomed into the vessel at the cost of two military advisors being kicked out. The ornate piece could probably have fit six people comfortably, but General Clarion ordered that no more than four be inside it at a time. Despite feeling slightly selfish, Alexandre was glad of this luxury.

Finally, I can relax. Reeling at this thought of his, Alexandre had to smile. I can relax at the center of an army, with plenty of soldiers that I’m sure hate me. I’m on the way to a meeting that will determine whether or not I’ve thrown the country into civil war, and every one I’ve ever known and loved is at risk because of my choices. Excellent time to be relaxing. Nevertheless, it was true.

Alex was much less nervous around his mother now that she was on board. He wasn’t sure if she would have ever gone to the offensive against him, but the magnitude of his recent actions could have possibly warranted that. Even if she believed that his ploy was a grab for power, as long as she was content, Alex felt safe. He also could trust Talia implicitly, and his mother’s new head of soldier had been agreeable company so far along the way.

Marcus was huge, and bore fearsome markings and scars all over his body. Alex had initially assessed that the symbols carved into his dark skin indicated war triumphs, and he had been mostly right. While traveling, he had asked. Marcus answered cheerfully and directly, and Alex could see why Ysabel liked him. Marcus was straightforward, honest, and a seasoned killer. Each scar and tattoo on Marcus’s body held deep significance, reflecting a task completed or a victory won.

In the tribe that Marcus had come from, a multitude of gods and goddesses compelled oracles dedicated to each to prescribe tasks to the men and women of the village. If a mission was completed, they could then earn the symbol of either that specific endeavor or of the god or goddess himself. The god of the sea, for instance, required giving a life via drowning in war. The goddess of fire created her own mark upon the skin of the people, who were held above flame until they could bear it no more. Marcus, Alex had learned, was revered as having the touch of two goddesses within him; the goddess of fire, and the goddess of flesh. Alex had seen that all the flesh on his lower back bore the melted look of someone who had been exposed to flame for too long, and that his entire chest was covered in ink of a cannibalizing woman. Alex noted that to earn the ink of Nymeria on one’s skin, Marcus had said that a warrior must eat the hearts of three foes slain. The tattoo on his chest was beautiful in a macabre way, and Alex couldn’t help but be reminded of his mother.

While not talking to Marcus or Talia, Alex studied his mother. He knew that she probably was aware through her peripherals, but he didn’t care. Ever since his mother had been forced to move to the capitol, Alex had wondered about her wellbeing. She’s struggling more than she was before. Alex thought of his father’s death, and felt a hint of sadness for his mother. She’s managing, but not like she used to be able to.

In the past, Alex had remembered his parents preparing for battle together, delighting in the carnal victories that had brought them to fame and fortune in Nabius. Ysabel had been able to switch between herself and her other self whenever she wanted to, and typically reserved it for battle only. With military prowess, political cunning, and a certain brand of savagery that had been unique to the two of them together, Darion and Ysabel Di Coteau conquered the world and had made it their own. Their love was certainly different than anything that Alex craved or had with Carlin, but it was real, and strong. They had ridden it all through their lives, until Darion had met his end and Alexandre’s legacy had begun. The transition was clearly difficult for her, and Alex could tell it was having its effect on her self-control. As he judged, though, he knew that she would stay as strong as she had always been. She certainly had her comforts now, including a position as General on her own.

And Marcus… Alex looked between the two of them, briefly wondering if they were sleeping together. On second thought, he shook is head. I don’t want to know. He returned to the present to ask Marcus a question about a tattoo involving three ribcages arranged in a triangle, just before the carriage stopped. All four passengers looked towards carved wood slits that formed windows for the car.

“Why are we stopped?” asked Ysabel loudly through the walls of the cart. From the outside, a robust voice replied.

“General Damien Di Coteau and his party has met us along the road, General Clarion. Should we lower the carriage ramp?”

Alex narrowed his eyes, finding it suspicious that his uncle had just happened to be crossing paths with them on the way to Alexandre’s territory. Ysabel made a sigh of annoyance, which echoed what Alex was thinking.

“Very well. Invite him to ride with us.”

***

Eamon awoke to blackness, and the panicked breathing of his own chest. His face still felt like fire, and he couldn’t quite tell what was going on.

“Wha…?” he tried to open his eyelids, only to find complete darkness when he did so. He grasped at his face, feeling the tender skin that streaked across both eyes, and the prickly hairs of his eyebrows. He felt his eyelids and around his eyes, and realized that they were open.

I still can’t see. He began breathing heavily, grasping around him in what felt like the bundles of sheets around his body on top of a large bed.

“Oh saints,” he said loudly, and anxiously. His breathing was now rapid, and he began making wheezing sounds. Shortly, he heard the grumbling sounds of someone wake with a jolt.

“Eamon!” It was Luca’s voice. “Eamon, can you hear me? Are you alright? Hello?” Eamon stayed silent, letting his situation sink in.

The snake. It was a black adder. The venom… it got me in the face. His hand wavered back towards his face, feeling the soft skin that radiated heat and felt like thousands of needles sticking into him over and over again. He shuddered, and let his hand fall to his sides as he sat up in what he assumed was his bed.

“Eamon? It’s Luca. Are you okay?” The tone was apprehensive to the point that it sounded like Luca might choke.

“I can’t see.”

“Ah! Eamon. I didn’t… oh thank you for being okay.” Eamon felt Luca’s surprisingly strong grip of a hug wrap around him, the smaller boy’s frame squeezing around his shoulders and chest.

“Luca.”

“Yes, yes I’m here. Oh – I’m – I. Eamon. I’m so sorry. We heard the screams that night, and when we saw the snake and you on the floor. I’m just so glad you’re okay. I’m so so sorry Eamon.” Eamon felt the dawn of realization settle slowly over him, a numbing silence that penetrated all the way down to his core. Slowly, he lifted his hands so they returned Luca’s hug in the most meager way possible. After some time of listening to Luca’s chest rise and fall against his, he finally spoke.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Luca sat up, and did what felt like climb up onto another side of the bed that was next to him.

Not my room then.

“It was probably meant for me. That had to have been put there recently. The snake, I mean.” Eamon could hear the guilt dripping from Luca’s statement. He swallowed, despite his throat being painfully dry, and replied dutifully.

“I would be happy to do it again for you.” Eamon didn’t even convince himself with that, and felt his chin begin to quiver. He could feel Luca trembling beside him.

“I wouldn’t ask that. Are you… does it hurt?” Luca asked with genuine concern, but it was all Eamon could do to not break down.

“No,” he said stoutly.

“Good. I – I’m glad. You must be hungry. Alfie’s sent relentless meals up.” Luca shuffled around, and Eamon could feel the mattress indenting up and down.

“Where am I?” Eamon asked, wanting to compensate for what he could not now have. I just want to see one more thing. Anything. Luca’s face.

“You’re in my room. I wanted to make sure you were always around someone, and if you woke up in the middle of the night, I’d at least be there… “

So the tables have turned. He watched over me this time. Something about that thought made Eamon even more emotional, and the scarred tear ducts in is face began to sting. He wasn’t sure if tears would even flow now, and grabbed a fistful of sheets. He felt Luca’s hand lay on top of it. Eamon hung his head, and let his mind go blank. He could tell Luca was nervous and didn’t know what to say, but Eamon knew that he wouldn’t know what to do either. He asked Luca just to talk, to update him on anything, for the distraction. Obliging, Luca began to talk about the food that was in the room and that he would help Eamon eat gladly. Eamon also learned that Generals were now pouring into the estate, and that Alex would be back very soon with his mother and uncle Damien. Luca talked about everything that had been going on at the estate, including how Adrian and General Torne were helping and had effectively taken over so that Luca could tend to his patient as much as possible. Eamon let Luca go on and on, slowly letting his voice fade out into the background of his thoughts.

Everything that I’ve worked for. The academy, getting away from the farm… becoming a warrior. Being a personal soldier to a general. Luca. It’s all gone. And the prince. Eamon could tell that he liked Luca, and knew that there was no way he could ever compete now. What he was once good at was winning the affections of those that he was soft for. But now… what affections could I ever win?

Eamon’s mind went to the pits of despair, losing all hope for a future. The crippled, the weak, the blind… what happens to them in this country? Eamon knew exactly how they ended up. Nabius will not tolerate me. He slouched down in bed, listening to Luca talk and getting the occasional pat or touch that was meant to be reassuring.

I will never have a chance with him now. He imagined that his face was horribly scarred, deformed by the venom of the snake. Luca will never love you now. No one will. Eamon placed a hand on Luca’s, causing the boy to stop abruptly.

The life of a blind man isn’t even worth living in this country. You’ve lost every dream you’ve ever had, because of petulant jealousy. Well done Eamon, well done.

“Luca?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to be alone for a while now, if you don’t mind.”

***

General Ysabel picked at the sharp claws she wore on her right hand with the ones on the left, trying to ignore the annoyance that was her brother-in-law Damien. Ever since he had joined her as a traveling companion, he had done nothing but whine and throw childish fits, per usual. Ysabel flicked a piece of dirt off of the blade strapped to her middle finger, hoping that it would land in Damien’s lap. He was on the plush bench across from her in the carriage, seated next to Talia and Alexandre.

Can’t you just rip his throat out already? asked the demon.

Shush.

She looked towards Talia, who had drawn a knife and was flipping it in 180 degree spins, catching it by the blade, then handle, then blade, then handle, and so on. She could tell that both her children and even Marcus were all annoyed at the mewling of the other Di Coteau general in the cab. She thought back to a saying that had once been popular with her mother about the Di Coteaus while she was still in academy.

Devan got the brains, Damien got the brawn, and Darion got both. Choose wisely Ysabel.

The memory made her smile at the accuracy of her mother’s perception, but then frown angrily at the mention of her husband. Her heart still hurt when she thought of Darion, and his brother’s inferiority was truly made to shine in the cab at the current moment. He was spewing on about Alexandre’s marriage again, arguing about what merits it could possibly hold for Nabius. In the beginning, Alexandre had replied and laid out logical arguments that would be compelling to any other general on the council of thirteen. But Damien was persistent, and never actually listened to what Alex was saying. Eventually, it had gotten to the point where Damien talked nonstop, never letting Alex reply. Ysabel wondered what the point of an argument was if one side never let the other into it.

Alex clearly felt the same way, Ysabel noted with humor as she looked across the cabin to see her son slouched in his chair and not listening to a word Damien was saying. He was watching Talia flip her knife with boredom, and even yawned.

“… I just can’t believe you would do this, without consulting anyone. I mean what were you thinking? I’d expect this kind of wild decision making to come from a lesser general or someone who isn’t a Nabian, but certainly not my nephew. Alex, are you even listening to me? I can’t believe that I’m related to such a stupid – “

“Excuse me?” asked Alex darkly, cutting off Damien’s monologue. All members in the cab perked up, and it fell silent. Ysabel looked at her son with interest, noting just how much he sounded like his father. Damien backed off, realizing what he had said and showing immediate regret.

To insult a general so openly was rare in Nabius, because it usually had dire consequences. No matter who it was or what decisions they had made, generals in Nabius typically treated each other with a certain degree of respect. This was basic courtesy, as all generals had earned their way into the position somehow. Undermining their competence was a near death sentence for the average citizen, especially when it came to the Di Coteau family. Thus, Damien’s remark came as a bit of a surprise, and Talia, Marcus, and Ysabel all watched with great interest.

After a while, Damien said nothing, and cleared his throat. “I repeat,” said Alex, “excuse me? What was that thought you were having, uncle?” Damien shifted uncomfortably, knowing just as well as everyone in the conversation that wars had been started over less. Eventually, Damien did what Ysabel perceived to be the smart thing, and apologized.

“I didn’t mean to insult your intelligence, General. I only question your actions. My apologies.” Alex lifted an eyebrow, and then leaned back against his seat again. The tension left the air, and Alex made a grunt that told everyone he didn’t really care.

I’m glad he didn’t take the blabbering of this idiot. Ysabel felt no great love for Damien, whose mess she had just cleaned up. Thinking back on why she had been in Tomacia initially anyway, Ysabel thought that now would be a good time to interject, and help win some votes towards her son’s ingenious plan to take over Nabius.

Or ‘change’ it, whatever he means. She leaned forward, and cleared her throat quietly.

“Damien?” she asked sweetly.

“Yes?” he replied. He was clearly still uncomfortable.

“Please remember that it isn’t public knowledge that you lost complete control of your troops, and had rogue soldiers scattered throughout the battlefront of Tomacia,” she said sweetly.

He nodded, giving a simple “I’m aware.” Ysabel smiled at him, rubbing the blades on her thumbs and index fingers together. They made a sickening grinding sound that she knew from experience had the effect of being unnerving.

“If you do not vote in Alexandre’s favor, I will inform everyone that it was my army that had to clear your mess, and that you essentially have no more men under your control. On top of that, I’ll implicate you in a few other crimes against the state, and have you stripped of all powers, titles, and claims before your shaming. Then comes the eventual hanging, and Jezebel starting over as a foot soldier. The council will back me if they find out that it was you who made such a mess of the battlefront, and your weakness as a commander will ring through Nabius just as loud as the bells in Capitol Square.” She smiled sweetly again, and Damien’s eyes went wide. He said nothing, but she saw a gulp run down his throat. Ysabel went back to being bored, and picking at her claws.

She gave an infinitely small tick of the eye muscles that she knew her son and daughter would pick up on. It was almost a wink, and Alex didn’t hide his smile in the slightest. This was his thank you, and she accepted it gladly.

At least this gets Damien to shut the fuck up for a while, she thought.