Lord Varin stood before the gathered men who would become his army's foundation. They were all men and boys just old enough to hold a weapon, all dragged by force from their homes in the early morning hours. All were frightened, kneeling with bowed heads in Varin's personal throne room.
Varin grinned.
"Citizens of Arren," he addressed them. "Today you will join the greatest avenging army of our world's history. For generations the people of Arren have been ignored and dismissed by the crown. Our troubles have never mattered to them while they are surrounded by their petty ways. Now we must fight them. The ultimate slight has been made by the Crown Prince himself. We will no longer have the royal funding granted to other cities of our size. I asked for the aid to improve our roads and sewers so that we are healthier and safer, but he told me things were just fine here."
Varin began to pace as he spoke, trying to win over his reluctant people with words they would never see as lies. It would be better to do it the easy way, first. Force would come next.
"You know the condition of our once great city. We must tell the crown what happens when people are abandoned. I will not abandon you."
He stopped pacing to lift a large silver bowl and a small dagger from his throne.
"And you will not abandon me."
After Coulta's meeting with Second King Shelton a servant in a plain gray and red uniform led Coulta to a guest room, leaving him utterly confused as to where in the castle he actually was. The massive building was a maze of passageways and stairs, lined with plain wooden doors and bright tapestries. When he stepped into the room the servant had shown him to, Coulta stood frozen with surprise. He'd expected a common guest room to be plain and even dreary. This wasn't. The room was several times larger than where he had lived in Arren, and he immediately felt as if he didn't deserve such a place even for one night.
The room was well-lit with silver wall-torches and a fire burned in the large hearth, fighting the chilly spring breeze coming in through the open window. In the center of the room was a large bed dressed in dark blue sheets and matching blue curtains hung from a canopy above the bed, drawn back invitingly. Coulta wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed and sleep for a day after all the sleepless days he'd had, but he knew Crown Prince Wildas would be expecting him soon. And surely the dreams of all the innocent lives he'd taken would keep him from truly resting as they always did.
There were two storage chests along the far wall, made of a stained wood identical to the bedposts. Close to where he stood was a matching desk, which already held a few sheets of parchment, a glass bottle of ink, and two feather quills atop it. A chair sat at the desk, made of the same wood as the other furniture and with a seat cushion matching the bedding. Along another wall was a very large wardrobe and a small table with a washbasin, a pitcher of water, a bar of soap, and even a razor. A small towel hung on a rack beside it and a small mirror was on the wall above it.
There was a dressing screen in the far corner of the room, and Coulta found a steaming bath waiting for him on the other side. He'd never been happier to see a tub of water in his life and could hardly get his damp clothes off fast enough. Knowing that Wildas was waiting to speak to him, he forced himself to wash relatively quickly. Unsure if servants knocked on doors in Ryal or just walked in, he wrapped a towel around himself when he was done before walking to the wardrobe.
When he opened it, he was surprised to see more than just one or two outfits ready for him there. A sudden tightness came to his heart when he saw some of the more brightly colored pieces, and he settled for a black pair of trousers and a silver silk shirt. The fabric didn't feel natural when he put it on, but he wanted to keep to the same colors he had always worn. For Teeya. Despite his former life as a killer, she had made him accept himself in the dark colors, shades she always said made him handsome, not like a killer. He'd kept wearing the colors because it made her smile. There was no way he could make himself wear bright greens and blues when the only friend he'd ever had in his life was so far away. He didn't even know if she was still alive, now that he was gone. For the memory of her, he swore then to wear only the colors she had liked to see him wear back in Arren.
He had just finished shaving a short time later when there was a knock on the door. Coulta answered it to find another boy in servant's clothes holding a tray of food. At least that answered his question about knocking. The boy was visibly surprised when Coulta reached for the tray.
"I'm sorry," he stammered. "I just usually bring the trays inside for everyone."
"Oh," Coulta replied, understanding the reaction. "Well, next time."
The boy nodded as he relinquished the tray. "You can leave it inside the room when you're finished. Someone will pick it up. Probably not 'til morning though. That's when we do all the cleaning chores."
Coulta nodded. "Thank you."
"Welcome to Ryal," the boy replied, then hurried away.
It wasn't until Coulta had shut the door that he really looked at the food. There was meat and cheese and bread, all seasoned with spices he was sure he'd never had before, and a cup of sweet-smelling tea. Even though he hadn't actually been a servant in Arren, he'd only eaten what the servants had. Spices and fresh cheese had never been wasted on them. Plain food, most of it scraped free of mold, was all they ate. Plain tea, too, nothing like what was before him now.
Serving Crown Prince Wildas would be worth it just for the food.
He was just beginning to wonder if Wildas had decided not to speak to him after all when, some time after he'd finished his lunch, he finally heard another knock on the door. Coulta stopped pacing and went to answer it. Instead of a servant, he found a man in the red uniform of the soldiers who had arrested him.
In fact, he was the very man who had ordered him to be arrested.
"Don't worry," the soldier told him, actually smiling. "I'm just here to take you to my brother. And no, I'm not doing it because I don't trust you."
Much to Coulta's amazement, he offered Coulta his sword belt. Despite the man's words, Coulta was still suspicious, and took the belt hesitantly.
"I wanted to apologize," the soldier went on. "I should have just had someone escort you to a guest room and guard the door, but I was taken by surprise. My brother being in such a state and an armed stranger who didn't give the sign of the Royal Guard, and the two women... Wildas just explained everything to me. I'm very new to my post, I suppose I didn't want to muck it up when my brother was involved."
Coulta finished putting his belt on and gave the man what he hoped was a reassuring smile. It had been too long since he'd last smiled, so it probably looked like a grimace. "I understand. It wasn't that terrible."
"Aside from the water incident," the other man grumbled. "That was the men taking things into their own hands. They'd assumed you'd had something to do with Wildas's condition. I'll see to them."
Coulta felt inside the lining of his belt and was able to tell that the Second King – what did that title mean, anyway? – had returned his letter. That was the only concern he'd had for the moment. "You don't need to be harsh."
"I can't have them going beyond orders." He motioned for Coulta to follow him. "I'm Prince-General Rohan. But if you're familiar with my brother, I suppose just calling me Rohan in private is allowable."
So he was the one who had taken over for the man Roane had killed. He did look quite a bit like Wildas, now that Coulta thought about it. Rohan had lighter hair and blue eyes instead of hazel, but they had the same face. They even looked to be the same age.
"I'm Coulta," he said as they started up a winding case of stairs.
"I know," Rohan replied, and it sounded like he was smiling.
The harsh man who had arrested him was suddenly pleasant and smiling. This day was getting stranger by the moment.
Much sooner than Coulta had been expecting, they reached a door that was guarded by another man in a red uniform. Coulta took a moment to compare their uniforms, noticing that the soldier guarding the door lacked the row of star-like white stitches on the Prince-General's collar. The Prince-General also had a shield embroidered on his chest, depicting a golden horse leaping across a blue background. The other guard saluted Rohan, and held the position while Rohan led Coulta inside.
If Coulta had thought his guest room was massive and elaborate, it was nothing compared to the Crown Prince's chamber. Colorful tapestries covered what wall space wasn't filled by shelves or one of the three large wardrobes. A large sword rack was next to an ornate writing desk, but most of the swords looked to be ceremonial – not even a prince would consider combat with a sword glittering with gems or inscriptions. Several carved chests took up space along the walls, along with two hearths. A small sitting area was in front of Coulta, with a cushioned sofa and three chairs that looked immensely comfortable. A small table sat empty in the center, on a fur rug that was dyed the same blue as the cushions on the chairs and sofa.
The blue also matched the blankets and curtains on the massive bed that sat on a raised platform near the back of the room, a short distance from a closed off area that was probably a bathing room. Wildas was sitting up in the bed, wearing a plain green tunic, and arguing with Myri.
"You asked that I stay your healer through this," she was saying. "I say it's best if you stay in bed through tomorrow. If you are feeling stronger by tomorrow evening, I might consider letting you off bed rest."
"I have too many people I need to talk to," the prince argued.
"Don't you have enough authority that you could ask for those people to speak with you here?"
"I suppose most of them would be willing to meet here, but I can't expect my father to. Though I'm sure he'll force the door down if I don't go to see him soon enough."
"Then let him force the door down, and he'll see that you truly are restricted to bed rest."
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Wildas sighed, then noticed Coulta when Rohan led him over. Myri noticed, too, and got up from her chair to give Rohan a curtsy.
Rohan looked from her to Wildas and said, "I like her. She isn't afraid to order you around like the other healers are." He turned to Myri and took her hand, pressing his lips to the back of her hand before telling her in a low voice, "Slap him if he doesn't listen. I'm sure he would appreciate a slap from such a beautiful woman."
Myri looked completely flustered when he released her hand. She blushed as she clasped her hands behind her back.
"Rohan. Did you flirt with Coulta, too?" Wildas demanded. Somehow he managed to look both annoyed and amused.
Rohan motioned to Coulta. "Him? No, I begged his forgiveness for dragging him from horseback, taking his weapons, patting him all over, and throwing him in a cell without food or a sleeping pallet. And for my men throwing cold water over him this afternoon."
Something about the brothers made Coulta feel like smiling again. "You only apologized for having me arrested and the water."
"I apologize for the rest then," Rohan said with a careless gesture and a grin.
Wildas made a much ruder gesture at his brother. "Rohan, you're an arse. Get out of here."
Rohan gave his brother a mocking bow as he backed toward the door. "Yes, Your Highness."
As soon as he was gone, Myri was fussing over Coulta, practically dragging him to a chair to look at him. He was too confused to bother fighting her.
"They made you sleep in the damp dungeon?" she demanded. "Didn't even feed you? And dumped cold water over you? Are you feeling well? Any fatigue? Pain? Chills?"
"I'm feeling well," he assured her, scowling when she lifted his chin and tilted his head every direction. In truth, he was quite tired, but he was certain that it was mostly from the exhausting journey, not just the night in a cell. "I've had food and a hot bath now anyway."
Myri finally let him go and crossed her arms over her chest. She'd evidently also had the chance to bathe and put on clean clothes, because her dress was not the same stained one he was used to seeing.
"I suppose I'll just make you a tea anyway," she sighed. "It's the least I could do. You did save my life. I'd hate to have you take sick afterward."
"Don't rush," Wildas told her from the bed. "I'll keep him here for a while."
She nodded. "Will the guard outside be able to tell me where the guest wing is?"
"Of course."
She gave him a quick curtsy, then headed toward the door.
"Thank you for distracting her from me," Wildas told Coulta with a laugh when she was gone.
"I think your brother distracted her before I did," Coulta commented.
Wildas snorted. "He's impossible. I'm sorry I didn't even consider what he might do once we arrived."
Coulta shrugged. "You didn't have much time to consider it."
The prince nodded. "That's true. And thank you for bringing me home. I know it wasn't exactly a pleasant journey."
"It would have been more difficult without Anil and Myri. You did fairly well with the poison, anyway. I've seen the end of result of what it does to some people. Some kill themselves, probably without even realizing it. It was one of the many reasons I hated having to work with Roane." He gazed into the nearby hearth fire, trying to burn away the memories in his mind. The poison had often made its victims claw at their bodies in agony, causing them to bleed out before the poison's final act of cruelty. There had even been one man who had thrown himself into a hearth fire to end it.
Coulta quickly glanced away from the hearth and back at Wildas.
"It was worse than anything I have ever experienced before," the prince said quietly. "Sometimes I felt like my body was on fire, and sometimes I felt mercifully numb. I don't know if that part was very brief, or if that was when I was able to sleep and it felt that way. I have very little memory of anything other than pain after we left Windwick. I only remember knowing that the three of you were with me."
He cleared his throat. "I haven't had the chance to speak to Anil yet, but I told Myri she was welcome to stay at least until we know what happened at Windwick. She seems to be happy to stay and order me around for a few days. Did Shelton speak to you?"
Coulta nodded and fingered the sleeve of his shirt, noticing how the stitches were at a different angle than Teeya's always were. "He suggested I make another vow to serve you. I don't know how much of the vow I made in Arren is still in effect. Not the part about bringing you back to Ryal, I know."
Wildas was quiet for a moment, and Coulta could sense the prince's eyes on him. "It would likely help my brother relax if he knew I had someone other than him to watch my back. There usually aren't a lot of assassination attempts in Ryal, but he's slightly paranoid now. If you agree to be my escort whenever I leave the castle, he won't be obligated to follow me around and complain about whatever I'm doing. As you just saw, he can be a little annoying. I love him dearly, but he's still my brother and growing up with him was tiring enough."
Coulta nodded again. "I understand."
"Good. So, you can swear to serve and protect me," Wildas went on. "But I also want you to swear that you will be honest with me. If I ask you to do something trivial, ridiculous, or overly dangerous, I want you to tell me. I don't want to take advantage of this, intentionally or not. If I jokingly tell you to go chase chickens, I don't mean it. It's just one of those things everyone tells children to do when they are complaining of boredom. I tell Rohan to do it all the time."
Coulta smiled and decided his face was going to be sore soon if this continued. "Should I also vow not to annoy you?"
"I doubt you'll ever annoy me like Rohan can, don't worry."
"Then, I swear to do everything in my power to protect you," Coulta vowed, looking Wildas in the eye. "I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities. And I swear to always be honest with you."
Wildas nodded. "I accept your service, and, for what it's worth, I will do my best to never do you any harm or take advantage of your position."
"Thank you," Coulta replied with a nod, amazed by the sincerity he saw in the prince's eyes.
Despite the physically binding promise to serve, Coulta somehow still felt free.
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