The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (24 page)

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By eleven in the evening Lorcko knew he wasn’t going to get much

sleep that night, so he decided to not even try. Instead he went back

to the beach, although it was pitch dark by now. The moonlight made

the already wondrous place almost seem magical. It was cold, and he

wrapped his mantle closer to his body, keeping his hands beneath it.

“What is happening? By all reckoning Ambrick should already

have fallen for me as a rock. I’m sure I gave him the right signals. I’m

sure he knew that he only had to ask. So, why didn’t he? I know for a

fact that he is attracted to me, so what’s keeping him?

“And what’s happening to me? Do I even want to bed him? Maybe.

Eventually. I want him to like me. I want him to want to be with me.

To drink with me. To walk with me. To talk with me. About himself or

about the weather. I want him to tell me funny stories about when he

was little. I want him to want to know things about me. I want him to

teach me how to raise a falcon for the hunt. I want him to offer to teach

me. To want it himself.”

He looked out over the sea as if the answer could be heard in her

eternal rumbling. He had never felt that interested in anybody. Other

people had always been mere conveniences, and now it turned out

that they bled, apparently. That they could hurt as well. That was not

what his parents had taught him. How was that even possible? And

where did that leave him?

“Not at the top of the heap, that’s for sure. I should never have left

Iramid. Or, at least, I should have left my heart there, where it was

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safe.”

He sighed and took a deep breath. There was nothing else for it.

He despised people who deluded themselves, and he was not going

to be one of them. So, he was going to have to admit it, at least to

himself. He was what others called in love. With someone other than

himself.

He laughed out loud. It sounded eerily cynical and desperate at

the same time against the background of the howling wind and the

thundering waves.

“And the prince? Well, fuck the prince. Or rather, don’t fuck the

prince. I just can’t be bothered anymore. Just thinking about the whole

arsenal of tricks I would have to use makes me more tired than I can

express. For what? For being known as the male concubine of his

highness? Besides, I don’t even like him that much. He is a pleasant

enough guy, notwithstanding his status. He doesn’t hurt the eyes. He

seems to like a bit of fun now and again. And he just isn’t my type. He

just isn’t. Ambrick is. I want those too long legs to come running to me.

I want his crooked teeth to smile at me.”

It was pathetic. What would his friends think? And say? Because

they wouldn’t keep silent. From top dog to runt of the litter in one go.

They would laugh behind his back. And in his face. His House wasn’t

overladen with prestige, nor was it rich in lands or gold. All he had

going for him was… what? His looks and the arrogant way he used

them. The ruthlessness with which he conquered, caught his prey

and left it on the field, barely nibbled at, but dead. Would he even like

himself or his double if he ever met him?

“No, probably not. It doesn’t bear thinking about… And yet I will.

I will think about it. I can’t go on like this. I will look deep into myself

and cut away what I don’t like. My friends? My so called friends? Let

them laugh all they want. It’s not them I need. Fuck them.”

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He had wandered too near the sea and a breaking wave splattered

salty water in his face.

“Is that why the words came so easy? I thought I was writing my

own lines and all the while they had been there, buried deep in my

heart, waiting to come out… Will Ambrick even have anything to do

with me? Will he think that it is all just a ploy and that at the end I will

leave him, alone and broken? Who could blame him? He must have

heard the stories. He would only be the last in a long, long line.”

He walked back to the dunes and sat down, shivering in the cold

air, facing the sea. He looked up at the waning moon.

“My worst enemy and critic will be old Lorcko. I know his main

argument. Not only is it ridiculous for Lorcko of Iramid to fall in love, it

is downright preposterous for him to fall in love with Ambrick of Keyld,

of all people. Well, fuck him too. But what if I can’t convince Ambrick?

What if it is he who laughs?”

He shook his head. Why would that be such a devastating

experience? He was prepared to face up to the ridicule of his friends,

but the thought of Ambrick making fun of his feelings was unbearable.

Why did he even think he deserved anything better? Loduvant was

right. Hearts didn’t break. Too bad, but they just didn’t.

“Yet, whatever the risk, I am going to try. I’ll win his confidence and

I’ll work from that. I can do this. Get ready, Ambrick, Lorcko is coming,

and this time it’s not just your body he wants. He wants it all.”

He felt cold through and through. Time to go back. The mere

thought of the blazing fire in their barrack made him feel a little

better and he smiled wryly.

“Is that what I’m doing. Am I warming myself at an imaginary

fire?”

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187

He didn’t know it, but at the same time Lorcko was staring out

over the sea, Anaxantis stood on the balcony of his apartments and

gazed in the same direction over the same waves.

“If father is sending the Black Shields after me, how am I going to

know they’re coming before it is too late? They won’t come with an

army. They can’t. I would have time to prepare, and father can’t spare

an army big enough to make absolutely certain that I will be brought

to my knees. So, they will most likely come incognito, commandeer

Demrac’s army, and try to arrest me by surprise. Well, that’s easily

enough countered. I’ll move the Clan and a part of the Amirathan

Militia in and around the castle, effectively encircling the Ximerionian

Army. So much for their surprise. I can probably prevent them from

laying hands on me. However, from the moment I resist arrest, I will

be in open rebellion against the high king. Can the warlord afford

that? Already? It is so not what I wanted. It is in fact the opposite. I

will be caught between two forces with an army of raw recruits and of

untested loyalty.

“Could I lure father into negotiations if I capture his elite force and

show him mere laws won’t stop me? Would he be prepared to let me

keep the North? Have it for my own, maybe? Still, it would be better if

the Black Shields never arrive. If they disappear somewhere between

Ormidon and Amiratha’s southern border, never to be heard of again.

“Mother, mother, if ever there was a time I could use your help, it

is now.”

“When did it become so difficult to make decisions?”
the high king

wondered as he walked the battlements of Fort Nira. He looked out

over the plains. If, no, when the enemy came it would be from that

direction, while at his back his stupid, undisciplined, inexperienced,

dauntless, indomitable, indefatigable, intrepid, brave, and valiant

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son was risking his life as well as the kingdom for the sake of a city.

“There was a time when I wouldn’t have doubted. Not for a second.

I wouldn’t have tried to second guess myself. Now? Have I really acted

in the interest of my kingdom and my people? Was it really in their

interest that I sent Damydas after the most promising of my prospective

heirs? Or am I jealous? Is the setting sun envious of the rising one?”

He passed by a turret that gave some shelter to a sentry. He

looked inside and saw that the young soldier on duty was fast

asleep. Immediately his blood started to boil. In time of war this

was an offense punishable by death. His eyes adjusted to the scant

light in the turret and he saw that the young man was actually just a

boy. Eighteen, nineteen maybe. Too short a life to have it broken off

already. And it was rather a time of stalemate than war. He retraced

his steps and started coughing very loudly. He leaned on the parapet

and waited a minute or two. When he passed the turret again, the

young sentry was standing upright and sprung to attention. He

nodded curtly in passing.

“Have I been too hasty? Should I have given him more credit? Been

less concerned with trying to keep the Devil’s Crown firmly on my own

head?”

He looked up at the moon, spreading its ghostly light over the

imposing fortress.

“For better or for worse, it is done. Damydas is on his way and I

can’t call him back. He travels incognito by an unknown route. Once he

reaches Amiratha his authority is absolute and Anaxantis is on his own.”

He suddenly felt cold and longed for the fireplace in his workroom.

“Oh Gods, there will be no fire big enough to warm me.”

Carefully he placed a new log on the blazing fire. He shouldn’t

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be cold, he had said. He could make it as warm as he pleased. He

understood.

“Has he also understood what I meant to do, that night on the

balcony? Probably, though he hasn’t said anything. Anyway, I couldn’t

go through with it. He looked at me and that was enough to make all

my resolve break down. Just like that.

“He has me completely in his power. Except here, inside my head.

There is still a small space in my head where I am me. Where he can’t

reach. I will pass most of my time there. Just waiting in my little inner

sanctuary. It is not that important what happens… elsewhere. There

I can take shelter whenever I need it. There I need no fire to keep me

warm. There the flame of hope burns.

“He’s not unreasonable. I’ll let him feel, gently, gently that there

are things he just can’t do. Not that I don’t recognize my debt. I do. And

I will pay. I will pay what he asks. But, slowly, I will make him see that

there are limits to what he can demand of me.

“This can’t be forever. While I quietly tend to my fire, his will slowly

burn out. I will give it nothing to feed on. Tomorrow—”

Anaxantis entered the room and smiled at him.

“You’re lucky, you know? You can stay inside. It’s damn cold out

there.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You’ve been busy, I noticed. The bathroom looks as new. Good

job. That must have taken you a few hours.”

“Yes, my lord, it did. Thank you. It was nothing. I know how you

like the bathroom to be clean.”

Anaxantis stroked his hair and he lifted his head a little bit to

meet the caressing hands.

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“It was nice of you all the same. Care to join me tonight? Just to

sleep, I’m afraid. I’ve had quite a busy day myself.”

“Yes, my lord. Of course.”

“Well, go on then.” Anaxantis smiled. “Don’t just sit there. Go into

bed. I’ll be joining you in a moment. Go. Go, go, go.”

He scrambled up and went over to the big bed, feeling the eyes of

his lord burning into his back. Before he got into it, he heard the door

of the bathroom close.

A few minutes later, Anaxantis came out, took off the robe he had

been wearing, and slid in beside him.

“I said no sex, but I would like your strong arms around me,” he

said softly.

He obliged before the request was fully made.

“Thank you. Somehow they make me feel safe.”

“Which is the strangest thing, when you think about it. You I don’t

fear. It’s him I want to destroy. But I have no time for our private

affairs at the moment. I must find a way to keep the Black Shields

from entering the Northern Marches. Day after tomorrow I leave for

the Renuvian plains. I can’t postpone it any longer, for I must be back

before father’s minions arrive and ruin everything. And I must pass by

Mirkadesh and find out what’s going on there. It just doesn’t add up.

“I know exactly what kind of battlefield I want. I hope we’ll find it.

I hope we’ll be able to lure the Mukthars there. I hope mother can tell

me more about…”

He looked up sideways, to the peaceful face with the closed eyes.

“I bet you’re living on hope too. Hope. Not even a promise. A vague

shadow of something that might not be there. Hope. Tomorrow’s fire.