The Bond - 12. Chapter 12

The Prince of Tomacia walked through a small village marketplace, still soaked and shirtless from swimming with a few friends that he had recently reconnected with. As usual, he was the center of attention and turned heads wherever he went. This time, though, the attention wasn’t all friendly. Carl gazed around at the stares that surrounded him as he moved, finding a select few faces that looked angry, or at the very least questioning of his personhood. He was in the innermost village square that came up to the central walls of the Cathcart’s palace, so there would be no open resentment on display, but unspoken thoughts were the loudest. Alex is right, he thought. Tomacians really are easy to read. Perhaps Tomacians should learn to train their faces after all.

He sighed, shook his head, and walked ahead with a fixed stare and blank face. He was channeling Alexandre, and immediately thought about what his partner would do in the face of hostility. Nabians allowed no emotion to show, no hint of what they were thinking to be on display. This was an ability that he thought would befit a prince, but he also felt that the people of Tomacia needed to see him smiling and carefree in spite of his recent political maneuvers. He hoped that he seemed confident about his marriage to a Nabian general, then his people could be confident too. Besides, thinking about Alex hurt, and it was tough for the Tomacian to keep a hard, straight face once he visited those thoughts. I guess its good that I know what my people are thinking anyway. Being easy to read isn’t a bad thing if our entire society is built upon candor. He smiled at an elderly woman buying colorful arrays of fish from a vendor, and was pleased that she smiled back. I just have to have faith in my people.

Just as he turned to enter a gate, he stopped and realized that his friends could go no further. There were guards posted at the gate that he was about to cross, given that it was one of the entrances to the residential areas of the royal family. He stopped, and turned to face his friends. They had all been swimming at one of Carl’s favorite spots, and seemed to be in good humor. Brian Chamberlin, the son of one of his father’s most trusted military advisors, was talking to a pretty girl that they had met while they were at the lake. Carl smiled, figuring that it was best to let his friend pursue his conquest, and didn’t bother trying to convince the guards to let his friends pass. He walked on, with nothing more than brief parting over the shoulder.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he called. Brian lifted a hand to wave, and the girl on his shoulder gave a friendly smile.

“My prince,” they both said, bowing their heads ever so slightly. Carl nodded, and the two returned to chatting idly. They took a turn, and Carl was left to himself at the inside of a courtyard. His stomach felt heavy, and he let loose a small and disappointed sigh.

I hope Alex is alright, he thought. As he walked on, he wondered what Alexandre might be doing now, on his way back to his home. He started to slip a loose cotton shirt on as he dried, and wished that he had some way to talk to his husband.

I mean, I’m sure he’s fine. He is with General Clarion… and I don’t think there’s anyone that would really cross her. It’s already public knowledge that she has built one of the biggest armies in Nabius yet. This came as some small comfort, but Carl thought more of his partner’s potential internal struggles. Funny that he’s devoted his entire life to fighting, and he doesn’t want confrontation. Carl walked into the part of the palace that he considered “home,” slowly making his way to his father’s study.

I really do admire him, though. He knows what slavery is like, he’s experienced it himself. I wonder if he would have taken such drastic measures to end it all if he hadn’t been taken that night so long ago. Carl frowned, still rounding endless halls and staircases. He hoped that his partner would have invested in peace even if they hadn’t met, but he was glad that they did. I bet he’s preparing what he’ll say to the council now.

Carl gulped, feeling sad that he couldn’t talk Alexandre through this one. He had been by Alexandre’s side since they had met, talking through every problem that they faced. He could no longer offer advice, even though now was the time it might be needed the most. But Alex has the right thing in mind. He’ll stick to it no matter what. Carl thought of watching all of his friends swimming and relaxing together earlier in the day, knowing that both he and Alexandre had the same mission.

Its our duty to take on the responsibilities for things like this so that people like them can have ordinary lives. He gritted his teeth, knowing that he was nearing his destination. And he has help, he thought. Talia, Mikhail, Barclay, Roark, Eamon, and Luca are all there for him. He’s not alone. This made him feel somewhat better, but not completely satisfied. He would rather be there, but he had trust in most of the people that Alex would be around. In truth, he felt the most glad that Alex would have the council of Luca again. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that Luca had a good mind for politics and would give good advice. It wasn’t that the others were less intelligent, but they seemed to have a biased perspective. Luca was an outsider, and always approached things with a matter-of-fact calmness.

Carl rounded a corner that led to his parents’ personal living space, heading towards the hearth that he knew they would be sitting around. He started to feel guilty that he had been spending time with friends, not doing anything to further the alliance between Nabius and Tomacia that he had hoped to achieve with his marriage. He felt especially bad that Alexandre was working hard for it at this very moment. After a few more steps, he walked into his parents’ living room.

“Hello dear,” said his mother with a smile. She was sitting on his father’s lap, draped across the two arms of a massive armchair that faced the fireplace. Both parents had a book in their hands, and neither looked up when he walked in.

“Mother, Father,” Carl said in greeting. He sat down on a nearby couch, and sighed.

I can’t just sit on my ass here.

“How was swimming? Is Brian doing well?” asked his father with mild interest.

“Fine, fine,” Carl said dismissively.

“Oh good.” Carmine Cathcart made a noise of approval, and then returned back to her book.

“Can you two help me work on my leadership qualities?” he asked, sitting up a little bit straighter. It was a sudden question, but it was what Carl had been thinking about all day while the rest of his peers were enjoying themselves. It was important that he make an effort just as Alexandre and all of his other Nabian friends would be doing, and he didn’t know what else he could do besides learn from the best negotiators he knew. He figured he might as well ask, just to see what advice he might get. His parents both looked up from what they were reading, and his father smiled.

“I just want to be able to offer… a little bit more. I mean… I’ve done a lot to change Tomacia already, but it seems unfair to put all of the diplomacy on Alex.” Carl twiddled his thumbs, and pushed a strand of chestnut hair out of his face. His mother swung her legs onto the ground, and walked over to a small pile of books in the corner of the room.

“Of course, son,” said King Richard, sitting up straighter. “I see the days of leisure and spending all of your time with friends are over.” He closed his book, and went to help his wife. Both his parents had their backs to him, and were shuffling through a large wooden crate that stood at the base of one of many bookcases in the room.

“Um...” Carl said to his parents confusedly. Are they ignoring me?

Eventually, both parents returned with a pile of books and papers, which they set on either side of him. Carl looked at the book on top of the pile his mother had given him, seeing that it was a manuscript on the history of the saints of Nabius. It looked to be several hundred pages, and he wondered what this was about.

“I agree that it is high time your education is expanded,” his mother said. Carl noticed that she had a flower tucked behind one ear, and looked especially pretty. “I’d like you to read all of these, so that you can get a sense of what started the war and where our cultures clash.” Carl looked at the large stacks next to him on the couch, and raised an eyebrow. His father chuckled.

“Return to me when you’ve gone through it all. It will be important to know before your induction,” said the king. Carl was confused, and leafed through the materials once more.

Nabian trade… marriage law… management of the southern provinces… Ironian-Tomacian relations… what is this? After a few moments, he processed what his father said. “Induction?” The king looked down at his son, and gave a decisive nod.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m going to have you inducted into the Hallowed Order.”

***

Sir Jared Coyne collapsed into bed, glad to be home after such a long time away from the Coyne province. He had just returned to his homelands earlier in the day, and was now settling into his room after making all of the customary return greetings necessary. The Ironian prince was now able to finally relax, free from the pestering of nobles who demanded to know every detail of the situation in the Monciet region. Beyond a “yes, Nabius is indeed occupying the Monciet lands,” Jared didn’t really have much to report. He was annoyed that the other folk in the leadership of the Coyne region were surprised that there wasn’t much intelligence to be gathered. Jared and his team had conducted a recount of the Di Coteau troops stationed at the Monciet castle, and learned little other than the fact that Alexandre Di Coteau had not returned since actually conquering the area, and that the leadership now took orders from an estate head named Luca. The other major news was that his cousin Marion was alive, well, and wedded to a Nabian that was now invalid. The Coyne officials were glad to hear this news, but that was all that he had.

And now, he thought, for sleep. Jared rolled over onto his back, lifting one knee up and lazily struggling with taut leather straps on his boots. He managed to pull one boot off, and tossed it to the floor. I wonder what Marion’s next move is, he thought. His cousin had been a member of a secret women’s society for many years, starting at the time that she began her schooling. It was his understanding that this society was to be an international committee of women in all kinds of positions in society, so that they may work together and accomplish goals with the interest of all three nations at heart. He didn’t know who the Nabians or Tomacians were that were in the group, but was sure that their leader was Almanita Nandra, a former Ironian turned Nabian through marriage. He had seen her once before, and knew that she was a force to be reckoned with. During his visit to his cousin’s home, he knew that this had rubbed off, and that Marion was no longer the passive, sweet little girl that he had grown up with.

I can’t believe that she completely incapacitated her husband. He deserved it, of course, but… wow. He thought about her request for revenge, and wondered then about Alexandre Di Coteau. Isn’t the Prince of the Illjard supposed to be in Alexandre’s region? Jared thought he had heard something about this, and shook his head. Whatever. He took his other boot off, and lay his head back onto a massive feather pillow.

I honestly have no idea what to do, or how I would enact revenge even if I wanted to, he thought. He grimaced. I made a promise. Jared began undressing, trying to rub the soreness out of his muscles from horseback riding as he did so. And the Order has made it clear that further war is to be avoided at all costs. We cant afford to have the opportunity for peace between Nabius and Tomacia destroyed, even if it’s a long shot. I don’t know what the Nabian council will vote, but if those two did make peace, the Order will have accomplished one of its primary goals. Jared smiled, finding it funny that neither the Tomacian prince nor Alexandre Di Coteau were even members. They could accomplish more than this whole group of people ever could.

But on the other hand… if Nabius is no longer occupied with the Tomacian front, what’s to stop them from coming after us? Jared frowned, realizing that this could be a very real problem. The Coyne region was the last civilized area of Ironia that had not been conquered by Nabius in the past fifty or so years, and it was getting steadily weaker. Save the tiny village at the top of Solstice Peak, a lone-standing mountain to the south of the Coyne area, only easily conquered tribal peoples and farmers made up the rest of Ironia. If the Coyne stronghold were to fall, Ironia would practically cease to exist as a nation. And with consolidated forces, Nabians could do it. Jared ran his hand through his hair, wishing the lull of sleep would get stronger and pull him away from the depths of his worries.

Maybe I should enact revenge on the Di Coteaus after all. It would satisfy Marion, re-stabilize the war between Tomacia and Nabius, and keep my people safe. The only thing is if the Order found out I attacked General Alexandre, I’d be expelled and possibly be in danger from them. Jared frowned, feeling the weight of indecision on his shoulders.

He slaughtered the Monciets in front of Marion’s eyes. Jared did feel a wave of anger at this, which he imagined must be similar to Marion’s. She had lost her brothers and parents, but he had also lost his cousins, Aunt and Uncle. He was thankful that Marion had been spared, but wondered what her life had really been reduced to in the aftermath. He thought on what he could do and whose advice he could take, but realized that he had no one.

Perhaps Almanita Nandra? he supposed. After all, she runs a group similar to the order, and seems to have everyone’s best interests in mind. I’m sure that I could get in contact with her through Marion… he thought about some of the other duties that he had been assigned by the Hallowed Order, and thought that might be an efficient idea.

I’m also to investigate the reports of what’s been going on in the tribes of Ironia and the Provinces, and Almanita Nandra is supposedly knowledgeable on the subject. He stifled a yawn with his fist, and began crawling into bed. The flux of activity and increasing cries of concern had been made apparent to the Order, and Jared was on a task force including Elsa Torne, Giovanni Nandra, and someone named John Chamberlin of Tomacia that he hadn’t met before that was supposed to investigate what was going on. Apparently, a new surge of ancient religions was starting up, and with that came rituals and practices that were certainly not good for the health of the realm. Thus, the Order had decreed it would investigate using members with access to power and information. As always, that meant that Jared was taking on extra duties in addition to practically running the Coyne region and keeping an eye on the Monciet region. I just want a break.

Actually, Almanita Nandra will probably be with her wife at the Nabian summit, so I could just write her there. He shrugged, figuring it might not hurt to have someone else as a contact.

Besides that, I need someone who knows what to make of these reports… they’re pretty disturbing.

***

Prince Adrian walked quickly to his quarters in the Di Coteau estate, glad to have gotten his most recent introduction to a Nabian General done and over with. General Pitor Davora – also known as the Davora Devourer – had arrived at the manse in the morning, and he and Luca went to introduce themselves shortly after. Adrian had gotten immediate vibes of danger from the man, and they matched his history well. Luca had told him what the Nabian common folk said about General Davora, and none of them were good.

General Davora had come from a poor family, and his mother had been a member of one of several cannibalistic tribes in the Provinces. It was said that she was where is brutality came from, but that his father was also a fairly violent man that took to picking fights with anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Pitor had made it through trials to enter an academy of Nabius when he was young. Similarly to Eamon he had worked his way out of poverty and graduated prodigally. The Devourer, as he became known as shortly after graduation, gained a reputation for being a high-profile assassin, and excelled in the “art” of shaming. Loud, public torture and gruesome deaths were his specialty, and he quickly gained recognition as being the man to go to if you want someone’s death to be both annunciated to the world and prolonged so as to make the target suffer. He was an executioner, and gained fame out of turning the deaths of his enemies into spectacles. Adrian felt that even looking the man in the eyes was uncomfortable, and that General Davora assessed everyone in terms of how they might be carved up to best please the Nabian public’s bloodlust. The two had a formal introduction, and Adrian left quickly.

Gods, he thought, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it with a sigh of relief. I hate meeting these people. Adrian had met several Nabian generals as they arrived for the summit, each one given a private preamble by Luca. He was impressed by Luca’s wide knowledge of officials in the country, and wondered how he was so good at relating to and extracting information from the commoners. He supposed it had to do with Luca giving them food and arming them, but still felt that Luca had the ability to talk with anyone, and extract information with the expertise of even the most competent spies.

He’s the kind of person that could really benefit the Illjard… he thought. Luca knows how to relate to people, and has already proven himself to be an excellent leader. He could really make a difference in the lives of my people. Adrian blushed with excitement, smiling over the crush that he had developed. I had a good feeling from the letters, but in person… he really is so much more. Adrian reeled himself in, wisely trying not to get ahead of himself. No, its true that I don’t know him well yet. And I really can’t say if he’s someone that I would be happy with for the rest of my life. But with the time constraints I have… I’d be willing to give that a shot, at least. Adrian reflected for a while, still leaning on the door. I’ve got to at least ask him.

Adrian was beginning to feel the pressure to find a husband, especially since having met so many counts and officials and generals of Nabius in the past few days. It was imperative that he find a partner so that he could remain in power in the Illjard, and Luca did indeed seem to be the best option. But with so much going on in preparation for the meeting of the thirteen, Adrian and Luca were both busy and there hadn’t been as much time as he would have liked to grow close. This was compounded by the issue of Eamon, who still required a considerable amount of care as he adjusted to his new disability.

I feel so bad for Eamon… it’s awful what’s happened to him. And to think that someone intended that for Luca… Adrian shuddered. Nabians are brutal. Adrian had been taking care of Eamon just as often as Luca had, helping him learn to use a sawed-off spear shaft to sweep the floor in front of him and work his way around the palace. Eamon was essentially independent already, but it was easy to see that he felt abandoned without someone nearby to talk to and assure him that his new life was indeed possible to live, even in this savage country. Adrian felt pity every time he looked into Eamon’s now clouded gray eyes, which weren’t able to stare back. He didn’t think that Eamon was any less attractive in all honesty, and he probably would be able to retain most of his skills after adjusting; but, the incident had brought a new coldness into Eamon that Adrian was saddened to see. He could see that Eamon was pushing Luca and himself away with all of his effort, becoming sullen and brooding constantly. Even the jovial Mikhail was snapped at, ignored, and kept at a distance. Adrian sympathized, but didn’t like to see the effect that it was having on Luca.

It must be difficult having to juggle work and the care of your friend all right now. Luca certainly seemed stressed, and Eamon wasn’t making it easy on him. Adrian could understand, but felt that Luca was also taking it to heart heavily. He often caught Luca giving Eamon longing glances and staring at him as he stumbled around with his seeing-stick, and that made Adrian wonder if the two had history. He hoped that they weren’t lovers at any point, but supposed that there was only one way to find that out.

I need to ask Luca. I need to gather my wits, address the situation with Eamon, and explain what my position is… I’ve got to ask him to marry me. Adrian felt giddy at the thought, but nervous in the pit of his stomach. I should do it soon. Meeting the generals and accommodating them as they arrive is just getting harder and harder, and Eamon grows more sullen every day. He thought about the events of today, and meeting General Davora. Encountering such a vile man was certainly offputting, and didn’t set up the mood that he thought he should be going for. Adrian wanted to do things at the right time, but was realizing that the present or very soon was what was probably the best.

He took a breath in, and let it out with new resolve. He walked over two his desk, looking over some of the papers he found there. Yes. That’s what I’m going to do, he thought. The advisors I brought are pushing me to find a partner as fast as possible anyway, and this should quell their nagging. I just have to be clear and honest. He smiled, thinking that the day after tomorrow, he would ask Luca to marry him. I can do this.