59. Dimitri
59
Dimitri cursed in Pelenori. “He did that on purpose. Held audience with us in the formal throne room to intimidate me.” He scowled, and his balled fists shook by his side as he strode the halls so quickly that Harper had to jog to keep up. When they had escaped the reach of the king, Dimitrius halted. He searched her face, and he could tell it startled her. “Are you all right?”
“Y–Yes.”
That was a blatant lie, he reckoned. Dimitrius swallowed. “Good.” It was a reminder to them both that he ought not be kind to her. Anything he showed kindness to was destroyed. He could not risk her, above all others, for she could destroy him too.
“Are you?” she asked haltingly.
Dimitrius closed his eyes and turned away, hating the feeling that slunk through his chest at her care. No one ever asked him that. She did not belong in this damned court. Fool of a woman. Guard yourself better. “I’m fine,” he said with a hint of a snap that he immediately regretted. Her face closed, but not before he saw the hurt that flashed across it.
Once in the safety of his own chambers, he relaxed. Harper stood awkwardly by the door. He gestured to the sumptuous armchairs before the hearth. “Sit. I apologise. The court is an intimidating place to you, I imagine.”
Harper nodded.
“It’s not easy to be here and not understand any of it. I’ll grant you that. You did well. I understand what it is like to stand before him for the first time.”
“You understand how I feel?” Doubt laced her voice.
“Well, of a sort. I imagine Toroth made his feelings toward me clear, no matter what tongue he spoke in.” Dimitrius scowled. He still felt that uncomfortable swoop in the pit of his belly. The shame never left. He glanced to the shuttered windows, but no light yet slipped through the edges.
“Come. To bed with us both.” He ran a hand across his face, wishing he could erase the creeping tiredness that had plagued him for weeks. “I fear the ordeal is not yet over, and we had best be fresh when next the king sends for us.”
Harper padded obediently to her room, but Dimitri made no move, staring into the flickering flames that danced across the logs, hungry for their fuel, like he was hungry for change. Any other lord would have been indignant with rage at such treatment—whether from the king or not—but Dimitri had no anger left in that moment. It was not the words that concerned him.
There would be no way to obtain the Dragonheart. Not now it was in the king’s possession. He closed his eyes, as if he could banish the thought of failure and hopelessness, but of course, that bore no fruit. He could not deny it to himself. Dimitri cursed. It was the only way to save himself and erase the madness from the kingdom. A part of him was still in the throne room at another time and place, flinching as the king’s spittle landed upon his face, enduring Toroth’s tirade with a stony face.
Times do not change, no matter how much they need to. I must find a way.
But no matter how much he thought, he could not find one. He was in over his head, too closely associated with the stone, and through Harper, there was the possibility of somebody finding out he took it in the first place, if anyone dared to dive into her mind, steal the truth of their encounters, and calculate from there. He had no doubt Toroth would, given the reason to, for they were all bound to serve him. Dimitri only wondered how soon he, and Harper, would be summoned once more. Only the king’s trust in his own authority protected the both of them thus far.
Get rid of her, his mind goaded him. She is the weak link.
He shook his head, as if he could deny his own mind. I cannot kill her.
You’ve done it before…
I will not kill her. It is not my nature.
There had to be another way. Maybe he could return her to the company of Aedon, or perhaps even her homeland, where the king would never find her. But even as the thoughts bloomed, they slipped away. They were desperation. Nothing more.
Over breakfast the next morning, Dimitri pried for more information. Judging from the shadows under her eyes, Harper looked to have slept as little as he after their audience with the king.
“What made you stay with Aedon and his merry band of criminals?” he enquired in a light voice. “We never did finish our chat yesterday about your adventures.”
Harper glared at him, full of suspicion.
Dimitri laughed. He could not help it. This young woman was a curiosity—no one else would have dared to treat him with such defiance. It surprised him, but he enjoyed the novelty. More than that, he liked her, he realised, and that was a very unfamiliar feeling. “Do not worry. I don’t expect you to share any valuable secrets.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Harper chewing on her lip, she spoke. “Well, they were kind to me, for a start, and I didn’t have anywhere else to turn. What else could I do?”
“You seemed clear that you wanted to see Toroth, to petition him to return you to your homelands. Did they escort you here?” A part of him still hoped they lingered. Their capture would be a sweet present to the king to curry his favour and perhaps buy himself more time.
Harper winced. “Not exactly. We had a disagreement. Their goals and mine did not align, shall we say.”
“Oh?” Dimitri raised an eyebrow, but did not say more. Neither did Harper. He suppressed a smile. Oh, she’s determined not to incriminate them. How does Aedon do it? he wondered with a flicker of resentment for the easy grace with which the disgraced elf always managed to charm everyone. It was no wonder he had eluded capture for so long.
“Come now. If that’s the case, they cannot be as friendly as you seem to think. You’ve seen what they abandoned you to.”
“They didn’t abandon me,” Harper said stubbornly.
“Oh?” Dimitri spread his hands wide. “Forgive me. I don’t see them coming to save you.”
Harper’s shoulders crumpled at that. Dimitri regretted being so callous, but he capitalised upon it anyway. “Where are they journeying to?”
“I don’t know. But they’re not as bad as they seem.”
“Hmm.”
“They’re trying to help some villagers cure a sickness that seems to be spreading, almost like a plague.”
Dimitri stiffened and leaned forward. “A what? Where? When?” He gripped the table, his knuckles white.
“I—I don’t know. I don’t know Pelenor.”
With a giant whoosh of breath, Dimitri sat back in his chair and tapped his fingers upon the table. “You’re sure it was a plague-like sickness?”
“That’s what they said, and what we saw. Why?”
“Because the king knows nothing of it. Or, if he does, he’s said nothing, which I would not put past him,” Dimitri growled. “Either way, this is grave news.” He sighed. “Come. Eat your breakfast. I fear today will be a long day.”
Harper ate obediently, though it did not take much persuading. He had not failed to notice how thin she was, as if she had never had a full belly. Dimitri pursed his lips and dropped his gaze to his own plate.
It was the same wherever he went. No matter whose kingdom, abject poverty and inconceivable wealth existed side by side. He fleetingly wondered if the rulers in her homeland were as cruel as the king. If he could somehow send her back, what kind of life would she be returning to? She had said precious little about it, but that spoke volumes in itself.
It was another reason not to pursue sending her home by whatever means he could. It was an excuse he could focus on, rather than think about why he really wanted to keep her under his watch. At her heated request, he had returned the charm bracelet to her, but with a heavy sense of foreboding and a warning to her to always keep it hidden.
It has to be connected, his mind taunted him. The stone, the charm, the girl, Saradon…
The request to join the king’s presence arrived sooner than he liked, just as they finished eating.
“Come,” Dimitri said, grim-faced. “The king requests your presence ‘to reward you for your services’.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Harper asked, her eyes wide. “Perhaps he could return me to Caledan.”
“I would not raise your hopes. Harper, you saw his true spirit last night. Do you think he will be so benevolent?”
She did not answer.
“Do not ask it of him,” he warned.
At Dimitri’s request, Emyria fussed over Harper, making sure every inch of her was impeccably presented in the squire’s clothing. As a last thought, he stopped her before they left.
“Wait. I have something for you. A peace offering, if you will.” She frowned, but watched as Emyria handed a wrapped object to him. He held it out to Harper. “Here.”
She unwrapped it to discover a familiar dagger. The one Aedon had given her. Her hands closed tightly around it. She met his gaze, radiating confusion, her fire quenched by the surprise of his action. Her words, when they came, were gentle enough to surprise him too. “Thank you.”
He nodded stiffly.
“Why?”
“Because today will not be easy. Consider it a talisman of courage. One condition though?”
She hesitated, a question in her eyes.
“Don’t use it on me, will you?” He could not help but grin.
Her answering smile was glorious, like the coming of the sun, and it sharpened to steel as her vicious fire returned. “I can’t promise.”