A Bond of Three (14 page)

It was a lonely existence, made worse for being far from home, with no one around in whom Sorran could confide. He yearned for a friendly voice and cheerful conversation.

He heard footsteps behind him. Sorran held his breath and turned, only to expel it when he saw Malin, King Feolin’s chief adviser.

The old man regarded him kindly before giving a respectful bow. “How fares Your Highness this day?”

Sorran gave a brief smile. “I am well, Malin, thank you. How is His Majesty?” It had been three days since he had seen the king.

Malin sighed. “King Feolin regrets that he has not spent much time with you, but he is not a well man.”

Sorran had no need of Malin’s words to know this. The colors surrounding the king told their own story. He had asked for the sake of politeness. What was of greater concern was Tanish’s continued absence. “Have you seen Prince Tanish today?” He kept his tone light.

Malin’s gaze met his. “His Highness went out with the palace soldiers yesterday, on a two-day patrol of the borders. He should return this evening.”

Sorran’s heart sank. Two days away from the palace, and Tanish had not thought to mention it to him. “Is this something that he often does?”

Malin’s expression changed subtly. Sorran could swear there was a look of sympathy in those gray eyes. “He has trained with the soldiers in the past, yes, but this is the first time he has chosen to go on patrol with them.”

It was as Sorran had feared. His husband-to-be was avoiding him.

Malin smiled. “Your Highness, it is such a beautiful day. Perhaps you should go for a ride.”

Sorran considered this. The thought of galloping through the fields, maybe going down to the sea once more, was a pleasant one.

It would be even more pleasant if Tanish were to accompany me.
That first day’s adventure remained a bright spot in his present gray inner landscape. “You speak wisely, Malin. I shall have the stallion, Forena, saddled up and made ready.”

Malin bowed his head and then peered at Sorran through pale eyelashes. “But if I might make a suggestion? Your Highness should be accompanied this time.” There was the ghost of a smile about his lips. “I shall inform Aroman that he is to be ready to ride out with you.”

Before Sorran could say another word, the old man bowed low and then turned to walk away toward the staircase.

Sorran stared after him. There seemed little point in arguing. He went swiftly to his chamber and changed into a dark blue robe more suited for riding. By the time he arrived at the stables, Timur had already saddled Forena. Aroman stood by another horse, adjusting the bridle. He gave a short bow when Sorran entered the stables.

“Your Highness.”

Sorran did not miss the faint hint of a leer. “Is everything in readiness?” He kept his tone clipped, in direct contrast to the way in which he usually addressed the guards. It would not do to encourage Aroman in any way.

Aroman gave a short bow and patted his sword, which hung from the belt around his hips. “It is, Your Highness. And I am ready to protect you.” His eyes gleamed.

Sorran arched his eyebrows. “Let us hope we have no need of your sword,” he said dryly. He swung himself up onto Forena’s back and patted his neck. Sorran leaned forward to whisper into the horse’s ear. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you, boy?” It felt good to be astride a horse again.

Sorran waited until Aroman was settled on his horse, and then he nudged Forena forward to trot out into the palace courtyard to the gate that led into the city. Timur gave him a friendly grin, and Sorran returned it, glad of the sight. He and Aroman trotted through the steep streets that wound their way down the hill. Thankfully, Aroman made no move to converse with him, which suited Sorran well. He was in no mood to make small talk. As they rode, people appeared in doorways, and Sorran was greeted with happy smiles and cheerful shouts.

“
May the Maker bless you, Prince Sorran.
”

“
Heaven’s blessings on you and Prince Tanish.
”

“
A long and happy life to Your Highness.
”

Sorran smiled and raised his hand in acknowledgment of their greetings as more and more citizens of Teruna came out to see the cause of such acclamation. Yet in spite of their obvious delight in seeing him, Sorran’s heart was heavy.

They would not be so happy if they knew how things truly were between Tanish and me.
He knew time was on his side.
Surely Tanish cannot remain thus forever.
It had become a litany, one which he had repeated often during those first few days.

They approached the outskirts of the city, taking a different route than the one Tanish had taken that first day. This part appeared older, the buildings in greater need of repair. As they passed through an archway across a narrow street, Sorran caught a soft sound carried on the breeze. He pulled on Forena’s reins and held up his hand to signal to Aroman.

The royal guard was at his side in an instant. “Is there something wrong, Your Highness?”

Sorran frowned and held up a finger to his lips. He strained to catch the sound.

There it was again. Someone let out a low cry of pain.

Sorran dismounted and, taking hold of Forena’s reins, led the stallion closer to the archway. On the other side, huddled against the wall, was a figure adorned in a
cashor
. The figure whimpered, the sound going straight to Sorran’s heart.

He edged closer. “What ails you?”

The figure stiffened and tried to stand before collapsing onto the cobbled stones.

Sorran signaled for Aroman to take Forena’s reins.

Aroman scowled as he clambered down from his horse. “Your Highness, you should take—”

Sorran frowned at him and then walked across to the huddled figure and knelt beside him, gently lowering the hood. A young man, possibly only a few years younger than Sorran, stared back at him, green eyes glazed in pain and horror. There was a gash on the side of his head, and he nursed his left arm, wrapped in the folds of his
cashor
.

“You… you are Prince Sorran.” The boy tried to rise and grimaced. The light danced around him, a vivid purple color.

Sorran held out his hands. “Easy now. What happened to you?”

The young man swallowed. “They were repairing the archway and one of the top stones fell, striking my head and arm.”

Sorran gently pulled aside the red robe and caught his breath at the sight. The boy’s arm was badly cut and bruises had already begun to form. “Boy, what is your name?”

The young man shook his head, eyes wide. “You should not be speaking with me, Your Highness.”

Sorran smiled. “You let me worry about that. Now, tell me your name.”

“Erinor, Your Highness.”

Sorran gave him another encouraging smile. “Well, Erinor, do you live nearby?” When the boy nodded, Sorran signaled to Aroman to step closer. “We are going to take you home.”

An expression of such horror crossed Erinor’s face that Sorran halted. “Your Highness, you should not be seen speaking with the likes of me.”

Sorran became still. “How long have you lain here?”

Erinor tried to shrug, but it was clear the movement caused him pain. “About two hours.”

Rage bubbled up. “And in all that time, has no one sought to help you?”

Erinor shook his head. “Why would anyone lift a hand to help someone who is
Seruan
?”

“The boy has a point, Your Highness,” Aroman added in a low voice. “We should leave now.”

Sorran gave Aroman a cold look that had the soldier recoiling. “I will get back on my horse, and you will lift Erinor
carefully
into my arms. Then we shall take him home.” He stared at Aroman. “Is that clear?”

Aroman stared back at him and then swallowed. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Sorran returned his attention to the injured
Seruan
. He reached down and tore a wide strip of fabric from the hem of his robe and then proceeded to pull aside Erinor’s
cashor
. He wound the fabric carefully around his arm and up around his neck, tying it in a knot at his shoulder. “This should keep it stable until we reach your home,” he told him. Sorran held him steady and waited for Aroman to appear at his side. Sorran leapt onto Forena’s back and held out his arms.

Aroman eased Erinor into his arms and lifted him onto the horse, seating him in front of Sorran. Erinor was shaking.

Sorran placed his arms around the boy’s waist and held him close. He brought his mouth to Erinor’s ear. “Now, lad, show us where to go.”

His voice quavering, Erinor directed them to a quiet street, where the houses were in need of renovation. As they rode, Sorran did his best to keep Forena walking steadily. People who saw them stared at the three men, and it was all too easy to read their expressions when they gazed at Erinor. Sorran pushed aside his feelings of revulsion and concentrated on his charge. Erinor trembled in his arms.

At last they reached the small house. Aroman dismounted first and eased Erinor from the horse.

“Carry him inside,” Sorran ordered, “while I tie up the horses. I shall follow you in.”

“Your Highness would enter the home of such as he?” Aroman grimaced.

Cold rage coursed through him. Sorran glared at Aroman. “Take him inside,” he repeated, “and then you may wait outside until I have need of you.”

Aroman flushed and bowed his head before carrying Erinor into the house.

Sorran tied the horses’ reins to the gate and then followed him along the path to the front door. Inside the tiny front room was a fireplace and a huge pile of cushions and pillows. A fire was dying behind the grate.

Aroman lowered the youth carefully onto the pillows and then straightened. “I shall be outside the door if you have need of me.” He strode out of the house.

Sorran scowled after him. “Why should I have need of you?” he muttered under his breath before turning to gaze at Erinor. He pasted on a bright smile. “Now, I shall remake the fire, heat up some water, and then I shall see to your wounds.”

To his dismay, Erinor’s eyes grew bright with tears. “Your Highness….”

Sorran knelt beside him, his heart aching at the youth’s distress. He wrapped his arms around Erinor’s trembling body and held him, careful not to jar his injured arm. “Be at peace, Erinor. I am here to help you,” he whispered. It took a few moments for Erinor’s tremors to subside. When Sorran was sure he was calmer, he rose and went through the house to where a water pump came out of the wall. He looked around and seized a pan, which he filled with water. A towel lay over a chair by the pump, and he grabbed that too. When he went back into the front room, Erinor was lying on his back, shivering.

Sorran put down the pan and went to the fire. He took sticks and logs from a box next to it and got the fire blazing once more. Then he set the pan to warm on the metal stand above the flames.

“It will not take long,” he assured Erinor. Sorran sat on the floor in front of the fire. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen, Your Highness.”

“I am in your home, so you will call me Sorran.”

Erinor stared at him, astonishment written plainly across his face. “Oh, I cannot.” He lowered his gaze. “You already do me too great an honor by entering my home.”

Sorran reached out and took his hand. “Erinor.” He waited until the young man raised his chin. Sorran smiled. “In your home, I am Sorran, is that understood?”

Erinor regarded him in silence for a moment and then smiled.

Relief swept through Sorran. He studied Erinor. “How do you come to be
Seruan
?”

Erinor swallowed. “On my seventeenth birthday, I was taken from my home to the palace, where I was told that this district had need of a
Seruan
, since the last had…
retired
. I was trained and then given this dwelling.” He looked around the room. “It is not much, but it is mine.”

Sorran took a moment while the water was warming to gaze at his surroundings. The room was sparsely furnished, but it was clean and tidy. He stroked one of the cushions. “Is this where you bring your customers?”

Erinor nodded, a blush staining his cheeks. “They would not allow me to enter their homes.”

The thought made Sorran’s throat tight. “Do you enjoy your… work?” Sorran could not help the heat that blossomed in his face.

Erinor’s smile was sad. “It gladdens me that I bring pleasure to others. And yes, there are times when I love my work, especially when I am with a customer who has lost someone dear to them and needs to feel close to another. Or when someone shares their first time with me.” His smile faded. “What pains me is that I can bring them such joy, and yet none will look me in the eye. They need me, need my skills, but are ashamed of that need.”

“What of your family?” Sorran asked, his voice soft.

Erinor’s breathing hitched. “They are lost to me now. My parents, my brother, my two sisters….” Tears trickled down his smooth cheeks, and Sorran’s heart went out to him.

He wiped away Erinor’s tears with the soft folds of his
cashor
. “Oh, please, do not weep.” Sorran wanted to weep with him. He stroked Erinor’s dark curly hair. “Let me see to your injuries.” He lifted the pan onto the floor and dipped the towel into the now warmed water. Gently, so gently, Sorran wiped away the blood from Erinor’s head wound. He undid the makeshift sling and cleaned the wound on his arm. Then he fashioned the piece of robe once more into a support for the arm. “Does that feel better?”

Erinor gave him a watery smile. “Much better. I can manage now, Your High—
Sorran
.” His eyes sparkled. “Thank you so much. I cannot believe you are really here in my home, helping me in this way.”

Sorran cupped his chin. “Erinor, I am going to make you a promise. One day I will do something to change the plight of all
Seruani
in Teruna. At the moment, I have no idea how I can accomplish this, but I cannot stand by and say nothing when I see how you live your lives.” His thoughts went to Feyar.
Does his heart hide such pain?