The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (22 page)

after sex though. So, I compensated. Whenever I saw somebody I

physically liked — usually some handsome peasant’s son — I simply

went up to him and made a deal. Of course they know me as their

future lord, but I try to assure them that they have nothing to fear

from me in that respect. They can say no, if they want to. I explain

carefully and in some detail what I want from them, and what it’s

worth to me. Some do say no and then the matter ends there. Enough

say yes.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lorcko said.

“Whatever for?” Ambrick said, genuinely surprised. “Everyone

benefits from the deal. I pay what to them is a small fortune. I try to

make the experience as pleasant as I can. For all of them it is the first

time they have lain in a big bed, on a soft mattress between clean

sheets, and not on a flea infested straw sack. I have the servants

prepare a warm bath. You can see why, I think. For most, that’s also a

first. I treat them civilly, friendly even. I give them wine, as much as

they like, to relax. There’s all kinds of little and not so little snacks. I

do my utmost to make them feel at ease. To make them feel wanted

and appreciated. I praise them. Their bodies, that is. And I am gentle

and grateful. Some have the same inclination as we have, but even

those who haven’t don’t seem to mind too much.”

“You’re satisfied with that?”

“Why not? What would you have me do? Court them? Or

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court some boys more of my own standing? Some knight’s son, or

one of the young lesser nobles? Much too complicated and time

consuming.”

“But it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” Ambrick laughed. “Lorcko, only my dick is

involved, my heart isn’t. I may not be a virgin, but my heart is. You

see, it is only to satisfy the little animal in me. It’s a service I buy. I

don’t get attached to them, and the moment I fall in love, I won’t need

the service anymore. And I sure as hell won’t miss it. Meanwhile…

well, let’s just say it serves its purpose.”

Lorcko looked out over the sea.

“Is it so different from what I have been doing? After all, I also pay

to get what I want. It could even be argued that Ambrick is the more

honest one of us. He lets them keep what he gives them. I only feign to

give, and then I take it all back.”

“Your turn. How did you get to be, eh, what you are?”

Lorcko looked at him, stupefied by the directness of the question.

“I suppose, because nobody ever told me otherwise. I learned

from early on that I could get my way in almost anything with a

smile or a pout. It always worked. They always gave in. I too am the

son of the lord of the demesne, so, as I grew older, nobody, certainly

not my coevals, dared stop me. Up until I came here, I was a God

amongst mere mortals. At home I am, barring father, the absolute

top. Looking as I do only seemed to confirm this. It seemed that

was the way nature had ordained it. Food, fine clothes, money,

horses, other people, they were all things, just things put there for

my enjoyment. To take or to leave. The world was a ripe fruit to be

plucked, bitten in, and thrown away by Lorcko of Iramid. I meant

nothing by it. I just… plucked whatever took my fancy. I swear, it was

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without premeditated malice, though with great pleasure.”

He paused and frowned. He feared he must have sounded very

arrogant to Ambrick’s innocent ears.

“Since I’ve come here, I’ve learned a thing or two,” he said, his

eyes following a big black-backed gull. “They should have told me

earlier. Somebody, at some point should have said no. And make it

stick. Somebody should have.”

“Aren’t you a bit young to be wallowing in regret about the past

already?” Ambrick asked softly.

He didn’t smile and that surprised Lorcko.

“Maybe, but I feel as if I’ve come late to the dance. Very late. Too

late maybe.”

“Surely not,” his companion said, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“We all sometimes act in ways we later regret. The important thing is

to see our actions for what they are. Mistakes, pure and simple. Once

we understand that and stop deluding ourselves—”

“But, I’ve never, never, ever done that. I call it taking stock. I

regularly evaluate where I stand, who I am and what I have managed

to do, and what I still want to accomplish. I assure you that I am quite

ruthless with myself. I despise people who try to deceive themselves.

Besides, you really can’t deceive yourself, you know. Only… only,

things seemed to be going fine. So what if once and again an innocent

bystander got hurt while I made my way in this world? That was just

how the Gods, or nature, or fate, or whatever had put things together,

had planned it. Nothing to do with me personally.”

Ambrick looked curiously at him.

“You don’t seem happy with yourself though” he said finally. “Not

anymore.”

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Lorcko sighed and smiled wryly.

“I suppose not. Well, I will take stock of the situation, trace back

my steps to where I went wrong, try to mend what is mendable and

live with what isn’t. Then I’ll move on in a new direction.”

He looked at the horizon, where the sea touched the sky, and with

both hands moved his long, black, wind-tousled hair backwards.

“What a performance,”
Ambrick thought.
“Just look at the

remorseful sinner act played to perfection. He even engaged the sea as

an extra in his little scene. Or is it? What if it were real? Maybe he isn’t

as bad as they make him out to be. At least some of it rings true.”

“Ha,” Loduvant said jokingly as Lorcko entered their barrack,

“the wanderer returns from his lonely voyage. Or should I say the

hunter?” he added, smirking.

Lorcko smiled knowingly.

“Oh, come on, man,” Loduvant insisted, “give me the particulars.

I want to hear every titillating, enticing detail. Did you make him

quiver and flutter? Did he turn into a lovesick puddle of goo before

your eyes? Did you make him cry? From happiness? From frustration?

Because he had never been fucked like that?”

In fact, not only had Ambrick arrived last, he was also the first

to take his leave. Lorcko looked at Loduvant as if he didn’t recognize

him at first. Then someone put the lights back on behind his eyes.

“Not so fast, my eager, sensation seeking friend,” he said, putting

down his leather shoulder bag and taking off his mantle. “See, that’s

why you always will be what we professionals call an amateur, a

bungler. The fine art of wooing the skittish prey takes patience and

the careful laying of groundworks.”

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“Seems you’re taking a lot of trouble to catch a mangy rabbit,”

Loduvant said, almost disappointed. “At least, did he fall for it?”

“Oh yes, hook, line, and sinker. He gulped down the whole

caboodle as if it were candy. I presented him with a whole new range

of finespun feelings to gaze and wonder at. Delicately displayed,

measured to intrigue, arranged and presented to please the ear as

well as the soul. All just for him. It’s like a slow poison. So, now let it

do its work.”

He flashed his angelic, boyish smile.

And hated himself.

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Returning from a visit to one of the new Amirathan regiments,

they stopped for a rest by a little, fast flowing river and sat down

by the bank. Anaxantis followed the flow of the water with his eyes.

Further downstream, a little boy, nine or ten years old, was throwing

a stick for his dog to retrieve.

“How peaceful this is. Life should always be like this. Riding out

with your friend or throwing a stick for him to retrieve.”

He grinned.

“Anything from your mother yet?” Hemarchidas asked.

“Too early I suppose.”

“If you suspect your father might involve the Black Shields we

have no time to lose. Any ideas yet what we should do in that case?”

“Not really. First I’d like to know for sure, but it’s not even certain

mother has the means to obtain that information. It would be nice

to know what their exact orders are though. They’re an arrogant lot,

the Black Shields, and that’s always a weakness, but they are not to

be underestimated.”

“They’re your father’s elite fast intervention troops after all.”

“Exactly. Which brings me back to the central mystery: why is it

so important to not resist the Mukthars? What is worth the lives of

ten to fifteen thousand people? Not to mention the material damages,

and the loss of prestige to the Ximerionian army, to the crown even.

For the life of me, I can’t figure it out. What am I missing?”

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173

He looked out over the river, deep in thought. Out of the corner of

his eyes he saw the little boy throw his stick. It landed in the middle

of the river, where the current was fast. The dog jumped into the

water after it.

“No, Ruff, no, come back, come back,” the boy shouted after his

dog.

The animal turned around in the stream, but it was obvious that

the current was too strong for it. The dog tried to swim to his little

master and was paddling with all its might, but only managed to stay

more or less at the same spot in the river. It was tiring fast.

The boy kept calling his dog and leaned as much over the river

bank as he dared. When he saw that his dog was losing the battle

against the current, he suddenly jumped in.

Anaxantis leaped up and, with a worried look, observed what

was happening. The boy waded through the water to his dog, but

when he came to the middle of the river he lost his footing. Now both

dog and master were in trouble.

Without a second thought Anaxantis ran to where the boy had

entered the water and jumped in himself. Hemarchidas, taken by

surprise, ran after him.

“Come back, you little fool, you’ll drown,” he shouted, echoing

what the boy had said only minutes ago.

Before Anaxantis could reach him he saw the child sink beneath

the water. He resurfaced briefly, only to disappear again. Anaxantis

dove under and looked through the troubled water. Finally he saw a

vague shape and as he grabbed at it, he was sure it was the child. With

a few quick movements of his legs he broke the surface, clamping the

boy against his chest. The boy was coughing and grasping for air.

“My dog… My dog…” he moaned in between gulps.

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The animal had given up its struggle against the current and had

let itself drift with it, slowly maneuvering sideways. At last it bumped

against the river bank and managed to clamber out of the water.

“Look, look, there,” Anaxantis said to the boy. “Look, he’s made it.

He’s safe. See? Now hold still so we can get out as well.”

“What a smart dog. He stopped trying to fight the current once he

understood he couldn’t hope to win. He just went with it, using it for

his own purposes.”

Following the example of the dog he swam, on his back, holding

the boy on top of him, with the current, all the while slowly moving

sideways. At about the same spot where the dog had, they reached

the river bank.

With some difficulty Anaxantis managed to get himself and the

boy onto dry land. Ruff, sitting on his hind legs, his head slightly

tilted, watched calmly how his little master was dragged out of the

river. Humans made an awful fuss about the littlest things, he seemed

to think.

While Anaxantis lay still panting on his back, the little boy

freed himself from his embrace and crawled over to hug his dog,

who seemed to wonder why he had suddenly become the center of

attention. Hemarchidas had followed the proceedings from the river

bank and knelt down beside his friend.

“Have you gone mad?” he chided him, more worried than angry.