Brute (31 page)

Usually Gray woke up within minutes after a dream. Tonight was no exception—Aric could hear the slight change in his breathing and could feel the subtle shift in his muscles. But Gray didn’t move and didn’t say anything; he simply lay quietly in Aric’s arms.

It was Aric who spoke first, his voice deep and hoarse in the darkened room. “It was only a dream.”

“Y-you never told me your missing h-hand aches.”

“Gray—”

“Your hand aches, and you h-have a little t-twinge in your hips. Did you hurt them once?”

“When I fell, rescuing the prince. The healer took care of it.”

“N-not completely. If I were more skilled, I c-could make the pain go away.”

Aric squeezed him. “You do. All the time.”

“B-but I can’t….” Gray took a deep breath and let it out. “Aric, y-you’re going to—”

“No!” Aric surprised even himself, his voice was so loud. More quietly but just as urgently he said, “No. Don’t say it.”

“F-fine.”

Aric didn’t want to know how he died. Who would want that sort of information hanging over his head? He’d seen what a man looked like when he faced the end, had seen the fear and resignation and despair on his father’s face. If he had a day left, or a week or a month, he didn’t want that knowledge weighing him down. But what Gray had said during the dream—what
Aric
had said during the dream. It was too early in their escape, and Gray wasn’t yet safe. Aric had to know so he could make sure he got Gray to safety. “How?” he asked into Gray’s soft hair.

“I’m s-sorry. If I could take it b-back, undream it somehow….”

“I know. Tell me, Gray. Please.”

Gray paused for a long time, slowly rubbing his own collarbone, and when he spoke, his voice was oddly strained. “The w-water. You’re going to drown.” Quick as a fish, Gray twisted in Aric’s arms so that they were facing one another. He spoke quickly, urgently, without a stammer. “Forget the fucking Vale. We’ll go inland, far from the sea.”

“And far from rivers?”

“Of course!”

“How about lakes? And ponds? And inns with bathtubs? How about horse troughs and wells and buckets? Gray, I can’t escape water forever.”

Gray made an inarticulate and frustrated sound. “But you c-can’t just keep holding your course.”

“Why not? Maybe we head deep into the forest and I drown in a mud puddle.” He surprised both of them by laughing. “I almost drowned once before, but I survived. Maybe the gods had something in mind for me. Maybe they wanted me to set you free. Or maybe—I don’t know. Maybe it’s all one big joke, and this is how the gods stay entertained. I’m not nearly smart enough to second-guess them. I’m just going to have to do what I think is best and hope it turns out.”

“And if it doesn’t? If y-you die tomorrow?”

“Then I’ll consider myself lucky to have had the last year. I made friends, Gray. Real friends. And I felt… welcomed. I had adventures! And gods, I met you.” Aric bumped their foreheads together hard enough to hurt. “I met you.”

“Stubborn b-bastard!”

“I am,” Aric said almost happily. He was more than a strong back—he had a resolute mind. That was another change the past year had wrought.

And Gray couldn’t very well argue with that, so he didn’t try. Instead, he surprised Aric with more of his soft kisses. They made love for the second time that evening, then fell asleep, and this time, neither of them dreamed.

T
HE
morning light was still soft and tentative when they went downstairs, but the landlady was already awake. Aric could smell bread baking, and his mouth watered hopefully.

“Were you comfortable?” she asked them. “Was the bed good enough?”

Aric smiled. “It was perfect.” He’d dismantled their nest on the floor and replaced the blankets on the mattress before they left. He didn’t want to worry the proprietress of the Four Wolves, making her question the comfort of her accommodations.

She nodded. “Breakfast will be ready in an hour. We’ve ham steaks this morning and thick porridge, and—”

“We can’t stay. Is there something we could take with us now?”

She sniffed in evident disapproval of people who didn’t sit down to proper meals, but then she bustled away into the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with a fabric-wrapped parcel. “It’s yesterday’s bread. Today’s is still in the oven. And some cheese and dried currants. I hope that will do.”

“Thank you,” Aric said, and Gray gave one of those bows that would have looked stupid if Aric attempted it, but managed to look graceful and elegant for Gray. Then they set out into a city that was just waking up.

The streets of Racinas were packed dirt rather than cobbles. Aric nudged his companion’s shoulder. “Are your feet all right? I imagine there won’t be any pavement between here and the Vale.”

“No, there w-won’t, but I’m fine. Feels good, actually.”

Aric had to take him at his word because it was too early to find a shoemaker. The air was a bit chilly, but that wasn’t why Aric kept his cloak wrapped tightly about him. He did it because the cloak felt like a sort of armor. He knew there was no logic to that notion—armor wouldn’t help him if he was going to drown—but it helped settle his mind. In fact, he found himself surprisingly undisturbed by the news of his impending death. For a year now, he’d been expecting Gray to dream about him, and he meant what he’d said to Gray the previous night. It had a very good year, far better than he’d ever have dreamed possible. The only painful part had been Gray’s captivity, and now that was over. Aric’s only remaining worry was ridding Gray of his dreams and ensuring that he stayed free and secure.

And it was those goals that Aric considered as he led Gray through Racinas. He was also considering a change of plan. His original idea had been to visit the Vale and then see if he could arrange transport to the west. He’d read in a library book that there was a road through the forest—rough but passable, except in winter—that skirted the northern edge of the kingdom and eventually led to Freanas, the small and fairly isolated kingdom to the northwest. He had some silver left, which would probably last them a while if he was careful. And after that… well, he’d hoped that he’d be able to find some way to support them both.

Of course, that idea had been based on the assumption that Gray would want to stay with him once the nightmares were gone and the crown was no longer in pursuit. But maybe Gray would have had enough of Aric by then. If that was the case, Aric’s heart would break, but he’d understand. And before he left he’d make sure Gray had someplace comfortable to live and some way to bring bread to the table, because until he managed those things, Gray was still his charge.

But now there was the dream, which threw everything into question. If Aric did change course as Gray had suggested, would that avert his death? Or would the new course be the route that led him to disaster? It was too confusing to think about, and as they neared the outskirts of town, Aric decided to just let it be. He would do his best and accept whatever fate the gods gave him.

And then a wicked thought struck him. If he was meant to die anyway, why not take advantage of that fact?

“S-slow down! I can’t keep up with your long l-legs.”

Aric hadn’t realized he’d hurried his pace; he made the effort to ease up. “Sorry. I was distracted.”

“Wh-what are we passing now? It sounds quieter.”

Aric hadn’t really been paying much attention to their surroundings, and now he took a look around. “We’re still on the main street. That’s the right way, isn’t it?”

“Yes. Straight from the h-harbor and through the c-city. The locals say Ebra herself m-made the road, after her husband Ismundo cured her in the Vale. She l-led him to the sea and to a sh-ship made of ice, and they sailed together to the heavens.”

“I’d forgotten that part of the story.”

Gray smiled. “There’s m-more. The other gods wouldn’t let Ismundo in because he was only human. So Ebra g-gave him half her immortality.”

“What would someone do with half immortality?”

“L-live a very, v-very long time,” Gray answered with a chuckle.

“But if Ebra gave him half, does that mean she’d die someday? Gods aren’t supposed to die.”

“I suppose she decided it’s b-better to live a shorter time with someone you love than l-live forever without him.”

“Oh,” Aric said. He could understand that. He pulled his left arm just slightly closer to his body, so that more of Gray was touching him. “There are mostly just houses here. Wood houses with painted trim and little gardens in front. They’re pretty.”

“I remember. It’s a p-pretty town. I w-wanted more excitement when I was a boy, but afterward I th-thought it would have been a nice place to live.”

For a brief moment, Aric entertained a happy vision of sharing one of the neat little houses with Gray—maybe that one over there, with the fancy red scrollwork under the windows and the little grape arbor off to the side. Gray would get used to sleeping on a mattress again, and Aric would have a bath installed somewhere. Aric would find some way to make a living; his missing hand would be less of a handicap now that he could read. Gray could spend every day out of doors, charming the neighbors, learning his way around Racinas as well as he’d once known his cell. And Gray would sleep every night through, his only dreams sweet ones.

It seemed like so little to want.

“Do you think the king’s men are far behind us?” Aric asked, even though he didn’t want to.

“D-don’t know. People will have seen us walking to the docks and boarding the
Ouragan
.”

Aric sighed. “I wish I was a little less conspicuous.”

“Nothing to be done about it. When they learned we were on the
Ouragan
they’ll have kn-known we were bound for Racinas. They’ll likely have f-followed in one of the royal caravels.”

“Is that bad?” Aric had been too sick to pick up any nautical knowledge during the journey from Tellomer.

“They’re f-faster than the
Ouragan
.”

Aric tried to comfort himself with the thought that he and Gray had probably had many hours’ head start—the
Ouragan
had sailed before noon, and Gray’s absence likely hadn’t been noticed until well after dinner. And even then, it might have taken the guards some time to trace the escape route. But he couldn’t help glance behind them, half expecting to see men in scarlet-and-cream uniforms running up the street.

But no pursuers appeared, at least not yet. The houses gradually became more widely scattered, with the gardens around them looking more like small farms. People were digging at the soil, pulling up weeds, and planting seeds. They gave Aric and Gray mildly curious glances, but nothing more. Doubtless they were accustomed to desperate-looking types on the way to beg favors at the Vale. Aric noticed that the rumors he’d heard seemed to be true: the residents of Racinas were very attractive, with the same broad, sharp cheekbones and sunshine-colored hair as Gray and Petrus the whore. He wondered where Gray’s mother had lived and what her family had been like. Were some of Gray’s relatives still in the city?

The road began to rise, gently but surely, and the farms looked more like grassy meadows. Sheep grazed on the spring grass, and lambs gamboled amongst the ewes. If he had been born a sheep, Aric thought that this would be a good place for it.

But then the fields began to disappear, replaced by fir trees—first small and scattered, but as the road continued to ascend, the trunks grew thicker and taller and closer together. Finally the sun reached the travelers in only isolated splotches. Gray inhaled deeply. “Smells lovely, d-doesn’t it?”

It did. No coal smoke, no animal or human waste, no rubbish or sweat. The sounds were different too. None of Tellomer’s raucous chaos, and not even the constant, busy babble of Aric’s home village. The air seemed hushed, so that the sounds of their footsteps and breathing and the twittering of birds up above echoed much more loudly than usual. Aric wondered if the logs he’d wrestled with back in his village, the timbers being used to build the bridge, came from this place.

“C-could we rest?” Gray asked after a while. “Sorry. It’s b-been a long time since I’ve moved so much.”

Aric immediately felt guilty and led him to a fallen tree a few feet from the road. “Sit here. Gods, Gray, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. We haven’t even eaten and—”

“It’s fine, Ar. Y-you can’t think of everything all the time. You sit too, and let’s have a l-late breakfast.”

They shared the cheese and currants and the bread—still good, even if a day old—and drank ale from a tin flask. It wasn’t a fancy breakfast, but it was enough to fill their bellies. After a few more minutes of sitting, they resumed their walking with renewed energy.

“I’ve never seen a forest before,” Aric said. “I didn’t realize trees were so big. Even I feel tiny next to them. I bet we could hide out here and nobody would ever find us.”

“And y-you’re an expert at hunting? Because I’m guessing my aim w-would be a little off.” Gray sounded amused at the idea.

“I’ve never killed anything in my life.”