The Alliance - 13. Chapter 13

The rubberized tip of Aemon’s spear jerked past Alexandre’s left cheek, and then shot across in a horizontal line in an attempt to open the face of the general’s son. Alex was too quick for his younger soldier, however, and arced his back and leaned his head back just in time to see the weapon move a few centimeters above his nose. He had stuck his two wooden hook swords into the ground behind him for balance, and now quickly shifted all of his weight on top of them. Balancing on the two false blades behind his back, Alex lifted planted both feet onto Eamon’s chest to push off. Eamon stumbled back a little at the shove, and Alex did a quick backwards roll in the air while still gripping the hook swords. He landed on his feet, and put some distance in between himself and his opponent.

“That’s not fair!” Eamon cried. “In real battle, your swords would have been too thin to balance on.”

“Real battle isn’t fair, Eamon. I asked you to beat me, not play by pretend rules of combat. Have you ever seen real warfare? And I don’t mean a single assassination or taking out a troop of guards. I mean war.”

Eamon’s pale gray eyes narrowed, and he wore a look of anger. Alexandre missed nothing, though, and could tell it was simply a mask to sadness. “Yes.”

“Then you know that a lot of things happen that you don’t expect. Come on. Again.”

The two had been going at it for hours, and Alex had been surprised to learn that Eamon was actually a lot better than he had thought. He was very gifted with the spear, which made Alex eager to see his skills on the poleaxe. A long spear was the closest thing to a poleaxe Alex had in practice weapon form, but Mikhail would have a wooden version of the weapon Eamon brought with him made as soon as possible. He was very busy at the moment, and Talia was exhausting sets of wooden armor for her own practicing at an incredible rate. I wonder why another official earlier in the ceremony didn’t pick Eamon up? The confident teen was beautiful, dangerous, and seemed to have all of his wits about him. But perhaps that is it. Often, Nabian officials stayed away from men who looked too good or didn’t bear any scars to mar them. It could mean that they were weak or hadn’t been blooded yet. Nabians tended to favor brutish soldiers with gruff looking faces, for whatever reason. In this case, Alex thought, he probably doesn’t have any scars because he had never let anyone touch him. That was very good for Alex.

He thought instantly of another warrior whose good looks definitely didn’t make him any less potent. Carlin stood just a few yards away on the opposite side of the courtyard, dressed in full armor and fighting a terrifying Barclay. Barclay’s club was essentially just another block of wood, and Alex hadn’t quite figured out how to make a practice version of the weapon that wouldn’t deal lethal damage. As a result, he and Carlin practiced in full armor, matching broadsword to cudgel in a duel between giants. As he guessed, Barclay had been a bit unrefined, and Carlin was teaching him how to fight without swinging full-force blows each time his opponent moved. He needed to learn how to conserve energy, and last longer in a fight. The longer he was around, the more skulls he could smash in.

Originally, Alex had set up Eamon to train with Talia, and he was observing Roark at the shooting range. Alexandre felt that he needed to give Roark at least some training in close combat, but that had quickly been ruled out when he looked at his pairings again. When Alex saw Talia and Eamon shooting each other looks that implied obvious comfort, he had realized that Talia and Eamon knew each other. They knew each other, and Alexandre didn’t want training time wasted with them sneaking off to dark corners. It was unsurprising, really, given that they were both very attractive teens. Shit. I hope I don’t give Carlin any looks like that. That might make things a bit too obvious. Alex looked back again at the face of his opponent, taking his eyes off of the practice spear for just a moment.

He seemed like a nice kid, even if he was a bit arrogant. He also was hardened in all the ways that Nabius valued, and would be a good addition to the team. Though he was pretty enough to be a whore, Alex was still glad he had chosen him. And besides, why not have an attractive troop of people about you? Alexandre’s immediate family was certainly appealing by all standards, and they were probably the most dangerous family of four in Nabius. That hair will have to go, though. Eamon was a Nabian elite now, a position that meant he would have some shade of either black or maroon locks.

Additionally, his history with Talia meant nothing, for Talia took her pleasures wherever she wanted with whomever. Actually, Alex realized with a grimace, he probably shouldn’t have sent her and Roark off to the same secluded location together. He had no doubt that they would come back with tussled hair and flushed faces, which would be incredibly obvious on the tall redheaded boy’s pale skin. He had a nervous disposition and was handsome, the perfect type for Talia to bulldoze over.

In all reality, Alexandre rather liked Roark. He was very similar to Alexandre, in that he operated in just two modes. Alex was typically distant and cold, and then a warrior. Roark was unsure, clumsy, and nervous, but in the battlefield he also became absolutely lethal. Putting a bow in his hands seemed to flip a switch in the boy, and Alex liked that quality about him. So long as he could preform when the time came, he was useful.

Just then, Talia and Roark rode in from the shooting – or throwing, in Talia’s case – range atop two grey steeds. Alex noticed their post-coital glow, and rolled his eyes. Of course.

It was then that Eamon made his move, attempting to catch Alexandre off-guard while he was watching the two ride in. The tip of the spear lunged straight for Alex’s stomach, but was met with the hook of Di Coteau’s right blade. Alex had wrapped the hook around the spear’s shaft just below the tip, and extended his right arm to move the spear away from his body. That also pulled Eamon to the right stumbling, and Alex used his left leg to kick downwards on Eamon’s right knee. The taller man pitched forward at that, and fell onto his face. Alex walked away without looking, and approached Talia and Roark on their horses.

“Sorry brother, you’ll have to take care of this one on your own. Father’s sending me on another mission.”

Another? She just got back from the first… “I see. I’ll see you when you get back, I guess.” Talia nodded, and rode away from a dismounting Roark and her comparatively short brother.

Alex noticed Roark’s unbelievably tempting nervousness, and couldn’t resist teasing him. Putting on the most menacing look he could muster, he leaned in gave almost a whisper. “I see you’ve been sleeping with my sister.”

Roark went paler, if that was possible, and began to glance around. Alex tapped his foot impatiently, and watched the man suffer. Blood had now rushed to his face, and burned a bright crimson. He tried to sputter, but couldn’t even do that. Mouth opening and closing again and again in fear and uncertainty of what to say, Roark was truly at a loss.

Alex thought he heard a weak “I’m sorry, sir.” Just moments after that, the general’s son couldn’t keep it up and laughed aloud.

“Relax, Roark. I’m only japing. If my sister gives you a command, even if its one in bed, you’d have more to worry about from her if you didn’t follow it than you ever would from me." Roark seemed shocked, before relief flooded over his face and he visibly relaxed.

“I – I didn’t realize sir. Sorry again.”

“You may call me Alexandre or Alex. Sir only in front of other officials.” Alex rested a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Come. I’d like to hear how your training with Talia went.” He paused, and thought. “The training involving your bow, none of the other part please.” Roark reddened again at that, and the two picked up Eamon on their way as they made for the inner manse.

All in all, Alexandre was wholly satisfied with the group of men that he had chosen, and he knew that they would polish up to be fine warriors with a bit of training. With Carlin and Talia volunteering their help, the job would be done even quicker, and then they could all learn to fight as a unit. This would be important for the future, if and when Alexandre claimed a position of power. Because he would likely be threatened at every moment, Alex knew that he should have a powerful group surrounding him, much like his father always did. This crew was a start, at least.

***

Ysabel sat in the parlor of her brother-in-law’s house in the capitol, amused by how far away the servants that were providing tea were staying from her. Only Rodrick and Damien seemed to have it together. Well, at least they didn’t look like they were about to lose control of their bladders from sheer nervousness.

“Count Gorget reports a severe decline in the outputs of the sapphire mines in Devan’s region. Should we have a look into the matter?”

Ysabel strummed her bladed fingers across the glass tabletop, enjoying the clacking noises that each one made. “No,” she said thoughtfully. “His idea of a reduced income is enough to feed the capitol. Let the man complain. I’m sure if there were any issues, Devan would take care of them.”

Damien nodded, and ticked another item off of his list. “General Nandra is insisting that we remove the garrisons we have along her border out. Do we comply?”
Ysabel waved her hand dismissively, flicking a long strand of yellow-pink hair aside as she did. “Yes, yes.” There is no pleasing that woman.

“Then there is the matter of Yonin Meko’s death. The underworld is actively seeking a replacement, no doubt. I’m sure they were just as shocked as we all were. Whoever the assassin was, I’d like to meet them.” Ysabel smiled faintly, and crossed one leg over the other.

“Perhaps you would be surprised.”

Damien frowned, wondering what his sister-in-law knew about the matter, but didn’t press her.

“The only thing they found was a jeweled ebony dagger, so it was obviously an elite, or someone with considerable funding.”

Or not.

“They would do well serving the Di Coteaus. Anyway, I was wondering if you thought we should try to assert some say in whoever is chosen to take his place. The massive network of brothels he owned can’t go unchecked, but given your son’s recent… declarations, I’m not sure it would be wise for the family to appear involved.”

Ysabel stilled, every feline instinct and urge to kill bubbling to the surface. Alexandre? My son. He is gone… Looking through his papers, Damien continued.

“After Mortisse went down, there have been reports of a few minor underworld lords being taken out… and now Meko. We need to control this, Ysabel.”

Damien reared, stunned by the woman’s sudden outburst. She had unfurled from her reclined position and moved all at once, leaping over the table in between them. Her claws had glided through the leather and stuffing of the couch that Damien was on, and now stuck out of the wood on the other side in miniscule points. The claw on her right thumb was embedded into the furniture just to the left of Damien’s neck, and the other four were to his right. Right hand partially through the sofa and gripping her husband’s younger brother by the throat, Ysabel leaned in close.

“Do not presume to talk about my family,” she hissed. “I decide what is best for us, not you.” Her eyes flashed and her nostrils flared, and her black earrings dangled by her head ferociously quickly.

Nearby, a servant dropped a platter of tea and the soft tinkering of shattered china on the floor was the only sound in the room. Ysabel saw the serving girl wet herself and removed her claw from the couch, leaving soft pieces of stuffing and splinters to fall onto the seat of the chair around Damien’s lap.

Before he had the chance to say anything, Ysabel had stalked out of the room, Rodrick in tow.

“Rodrick?” she said, calm as ever.

“Yes, Madame?”

“Send a letter to my husband’s estate telling him to kill the little blonde boy that may be arriving with the latest shipment of soldiers. I’ve just decided I don’t like him around my family.”

“Of course.”

***

Carlin looked across the expanse of furs, leather and cloth pillows, and shades of black and red to see an exhausted Alexandre reading some expenses report or other of the manor’s. Though they were separated by just inches in the bed, Carlin couldn’t tolerate the distance and scooted closer with a face-splitting grin.

“You are so cute when you’re focused.”

Alex looked up from the paper and turned, then returned the grin in full. He let the paper fall off of the bed, and Carlin pulled his boy up and onto his lap.

“You sweet talk me too much.” Alex was beaming, and Carlin rested his hands on the younger man’s hips to begin to massage them. Alex was seated directly on Carlin’s lap, facing towards him with his two hands pressed into Carlin’s expansive pectorals. It was a position the couple had taken to when talking at night, and Carlin secretly loved the feel of Alexandre sitting essentially on top of his groin.

“Maybe one day you’ll deserve it.” Carlin winked and gave a cocky half smile, and Alex thumped his chest while wearing an expression that pretended he was insulted.

Gods, you are beautiful. Carlin wasn’t sure why he hadn’t recognized it earlier, but Alexandre was truly everything he had ever been looking for. He didn’t have the smooth, tender curves of a woman, but had lean muscle and a kind of firm intensity that was even more appealing. Alex didn’t faun over him either, which was different from most women he had ever met. He wasn’t especially eager to insinuate that he needed protecting, but never rejected being held throughout the night. Carlin could run his hands through the boy’s dark hair endlessly, and knew that he would never get tired of staring at his porcelain features. And in the bed… Carlin shuddered. There was something about the boy that was new and exciting, and he had never felt pleasure in such intense waves. Alexandre’s eyes exuded care and genuine feeling every time he looked at the Tomacian, and Carlin found the raw emotion that he found there thrilling. Bringing each other to orgasm, or even touching in an intimate way intensified the looks that Alexandre gave him, and Carlin could never get enough. Though they hadn’t technically made love in every sense, Carlin still liked considering the Di Coteau boy to be his lover.

Do I love him? Carlin truthfully didn’t know what to think of that question, given that he had only ever found the embraces of “love” in drunken escapades with brainless Tomacian girls. I think... I certainly like him. But this… this is different. The adoration he saw in Alexandre’s eyes made him happy, and genuinely gave him reason to not dread the trials of each day. He looked up at his smiling lover, and gently cupped the back of his neck with a hand. Pulling downwards and sitting up to go for a kiss, Carlin couldn’t help but to reach an arm around Alexandre’s back and squeeze. He loved it when every part of their bodies made contact, and he didn’t think he could get any happier than when he was in that position, right there.

He closed his eyes and relished the sweet taste of his lover’s lips, and groaned in contentment.

I wish this could last forever. But the two men were from very different countries, and they had different social standings as it was now. And besides… once the truth comes out, I wonder if he’ll hate me. There was so much gunning against the two lovers, and half of it hadn’t even been made known yet.

Fuck, thought Carlin, as his resolve grew weak and all thoughts melted away. Alex had a habit of doing that to him, making him unable to concentrate on anything but the younger boy. As the passion of their kisses intensified, Carlin thought of nothing but Alexandre and his own swelling heart. I cannot be distracted from you… I never want to be.