L
As if to beat them whilst they were at their lowest, rain slapped down, soaking through their clothes till their fingers were numb around the reins. Because of those merciless clouds, no moonlight could poke through to guide their paths, leaving them in complete darkness.
?James struggled. Even with Eris' comfort, the aftershocks of his freakout were striking up an anxious chill in him, putting him on edge.
Considering the others' struggle to see at that point, James was even worse; he couldn't tell when his eyes were open or closed.
A few times, his heart would start trembling, fearful that he was dreaming, stuck asleep, unable to decipher if he was truly conscious, unable to confirm reality through sight.
If Eris hadn't been with him, he wouldn't have been able to keep pulling himself off that ledge, time after time.
?With all the men feeling cold, wet and mildly traumatised, no one wanted to say anything. James had to put all his faith and trust into the animal he was on, listening to the other horses' hooves fumbling over slippery cobble to confirm he was still with the group.
?It should've felt like a relief when they made it to Athel's Lynn, street lamps lighting up the nothingness. But with the rain, people were holed up inside all the inns, drinking.
?Place after place they went, begging for a room, even if it was no more than a storage cupboard, but the inns simply couldn't accommodate them, throwing them back onto the streets. James numbly followed each bid by Alex, feeling the futility yet offering no alternatives.
?Eventually, it was Thomas who snapped. They stood under the awning of a small hotel, the front door locked, no life in sight. Thomas kicked and banged at the entrance, taking out his frustration on it. An employee eventually woke to the noise and cracked it open, glaring.
?"We're knights in need of emergency accommodation," he said to her, thrusting his Drykas knight's crest in her face. She had no choice but to let them in, snidely throwing a key onto the counter and retreating back into her room.
?With no change of clothes, the men dumped their jackets onto a heap on the floor of their room before returning downstairs to the entrance hall to light the fire.
?James watched the flames dance, modest and docile, slowly savouring the logs with only a small appetite.
The fire would cough a little, shivering, but it was nothing like the roaring and all-consuming monster that had ravaged the Ankaid palace when he was a child, gorging on material and people alike, no end to its gluttony.
James wouldn't be fooled by the offensively tame act.
?"What do we do now?" Fletcher asked, quietly.
?The men looked across the table at each other, Thomas still kneeling by the fireplace to amuse and distract the flames by prodding it with more food. They were the only people there, the other guests presumably sleeping through the storm.
?Alex stared at the tabletop for a moment, before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
?"Let's go through what we found," he said, "James, can you lay out those documents you stole?"
?With stiff fingers, James carefully pried the paper out from behind his back, mindful not to rip the delicate and damp pages.
A lot of the paper had clumped together, dissolving, but they hadn't been entirely soaked; the writing was bleeding but not illegible, the pages were stuck but not inseparable.
?"Are you serious right now?" Riley asked.
?There was a moment without words, only the sound of the fire spitting and the rain beating down on the building was audible. No one was quite sure what to make of the question and no one had the energy or desire to get involved.
?"I think you'll find that I am," Alex replied.
?Riley scoffed, disgusted by the suggestion.
?On a normal day, Alex probably would've let the slight go but, this time, he didn't.
?"What's the problem, huh, Riley? Instead of making faces like a child, why don't you use words like an adult and spare us from the Riley play, yes? I'm sick to death of you, it's like having a teenager sticking around, complaining and making snide comments at every opportunity."
?Riley pushed his chair back, it scraped against the floorboards.
?"Look around you, Alex," Riley said, "we're tired; mentally, physically, emotionally— we're all tired." He gestured around him. "They're all too exhausted to say 'no' to you when they should."
?"Who are you to speak on their behalves?"
?Yet, no one else said a thing. Thomas kept his head down, engrossed in tending the fire. Fletcher stared at his fingers and James watched the interaction whilst offering nothing to the contrary.
?Riley cocked his head, staring at Alex, offering the silence as evidence, and it was loud.
?"I need a fucking drink," Riley decided, standing and walking over the small bar. "You lot should leave me alone now because you won't like me after I drink."
?"So, you're just going to give up?" Alex challenged.
?Riley chuckled, bitterly, at the bait. With no one to serve him, he climbed over the counter and began to serve himself, opting for the strongest wine he could find.
?"Are you listening to me?"
?"Alex," James warned.
?He was witnessing what Thomas meant by calling Alex 'brittle'. James had always wanted Alex to get angry, but this kind of antagonism wasn't productive at all, it was unnecessarily mean and unfruitful, destructive— done with no purpose in sight.
?Riley downed his wine, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and then poured another one.
?"Don't you want to know what happened to your cousin?" Alex continued. "Or do you not care anymore?"
?James knew any intervention from him would only make things worse, Alex would see it as him undermining his authority, so he kept quiet.
?"I'm not giving up," Riley argued, calmly and lowly. "You know my motivation, you know I'm not. But if you want to slave away into the night like an overworked horse, that's your choice, don't drag the rest of us into it."
?James winced at the wording, even though it was true.
?"Honestly?" Riley said, smiling sourly to himself. "You're so stubborn and serious that I don't know what James sees in you. He could do better."
?He then downed his second drink.
?Alex stood, his chair screeching, and gathered up the pages, his movements heavy.
?He spoke through gritted teeth. "If you want to talk about stupid things you can stay here. I'm going upstairs, feel free to follow if any of you have any sense of duty."
?Alex stomped out of the room, the door slamming behind him, rattling through their feet.
?James sighed. "Was that really necessary?"
?Riley smiled. "Well? Did I say anything untrue?"
?"No, but..." James frowned. "You didn't need to say some of that."
?"I warned him to leave me alone."
?Riley had only been considering everyone's exhaustion. James wasn't going to thank him though.
?"Even so, you didn't have to piss him off."
?Thomas scoffed. "Coming from you, James? You got what you wanted, you should be happier— he got mad."
?"Riley was the one who tormented him," James argued, "I stopped doing that shit."
?"You didn't defend him though."
?"Why would I? I wasn't going to lie to him. And neither did you, you hypocrite." There was a bite to his words.
?Thomas' shoulders relaxed, his intensity deflating. There was a cold awareness that all of them had gone a little too far, that their patience was stretched too thin.
?"Riley wasn't wrong," Thomas muttered.
?"No, he wasn't," James allowed, regretfully. "And it applied to me, too. I shouldn't have indulged his request."
?Riley, unphased, poured his third.
?"He only wants what's best for everyone," Fletcher tried.
?Thomas looked like he wanted to argue with that, but he didn't say anything, doing his best to regather his stoic patience.
?Riley slid over the counter again, crossing the room and setting down a cup of wine in front of James.
?"You look like you could use some, too," Riley said.
?James scanned his face, suspicious of his motives. Even if he better understood the knight, it didn't make them friends, nor did it undo the snake-like impression James had always gotten from him. Riley didn't do things without considering the benefits.
?Though James wasn't one to use alcohol to cope, he still accepted it, downing it quickly.
?"Where's mine?" Fletcher asked.
?"I'm not a barmaid," Riley complained, but he went back to the bar to pour Fletcher one anyway.
?"Me, too. Please," Thomas requested, rubbing his tired face and leaving a smear of soot on it.
?Riley only got one for Fletcher, James and himself, coming to sit down at the table with them. Grumbling under his breath, Thomas went to the bar to get his own.
?James didn't hide his long assessment of Riley, openly staring at the man.
Now that he knew what to look for, it was obvious.
Riley seemed to have dark shadows under his eyes, his cheeks taut and lacking body fat despite his strong stature, his skin pale.
In a way, he looked unwell, and he'd looked that way the entire time James had known him.
?"I won't talk about it," Riley said, piercing through the hush.
?"It's none of my business," James retorted. "I wasn't going to ask."
?"You were thinking about it, though."
?James inwardly rolled his eyes and nursed his drink, chasing the deep warm relief that came with alcohol. It was a feeling desperate and depressed men destroyed themselves to indulge in, Riley included.
?"Romantic affairs don't interest me. I was just thinking how dead your eyes always looked to me. Now, I get why. You are, indeed, dying."
?Thomas went back to prodding the fire, even though it didn't need it, not wanting to be involved. Fletcher was happy to sit without talking, for once, unable to motivate himself to make conversation.
?"You never planned to stick around, did you?" Riley said to him.
?James didn't outwardly react, even if he felt shaken. The remark clearly piqued Thomas' interest.
?"I don't know what you're talking about."
?Riley looked him in the eye. "You're going to run."
?It wasn't said like a question. Riley was certain of it; he knew.
?Reading on James' face that they were on the same page, Riley smiled and finished off what was left of his wine.
?"You'll ruin Alex by doing that," Riley remarked.
?James sighed through his nose, annoyed at the direction the conversation had taken.
He'd always thought his own interests should be a priority.
Others died so he could live, the least he could do was seize it as his own.
He enjoyed freedom, which was why he'd never sacrifice himself to become a king.
He'd never apologise for running from those chains.
?"I shouldn't base my life around other people," James insisted, "My life is mine to seize."
?Riley chuckled at that, the noise grating.
"But, isn't that what you've done this entire time?
You didn't really have to become 'Jay' if you didn't want to— I doubt you enjoyed it.
I bet it's because of the previous Jay that you took on that job.
I don't even think you want to be alive.
You do it because of the dead, don't you? Your whole life is about other people."
?"So is yours," James snapped, his heart trembling.
?"I know it is," Riley confirmed, "and I won't lie about it. Everyone lies, James, but you're so used to it that you can't even tell the truth to yourself. Alex also sees that and he benefits from it. You're the useful idiot. It's blatant to everyone except you."
?"I really don't like you," James snarled.
?Riley tapped the rim of his empty cup. "I gave a warning."
?Unable to tolerate the verbal assault further than this, James stood up, eager to leave.
?"Off to see Alex?" Riley mocked. "Or, did you just want to lick your wounds?"
?"Riley," Thomas hissed.
?As tempting as it was to smash the cup against Riley's thick skull, James knew a wave of fruitless anger when he felt one.
A fight was something Riley was desperate for; a way to vent out his deeply embedded and dark emotional baggage with an excuse; to injure others and be injured.
It was self-harm, and James wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
?Riley kissed his teeth, upset he didn't get the reaction he wanted.
?"Docile, like your brother," he snarked as James walked away.
?Thomas got to his feet and pulled Riley by the collar, shoving him down, the chair rocking and the legs smacking back onto the floor.
?"Will you shut up?" Thomas shouted. "He's walking away. Leave it!"
?"Guys, calm down—" Fletcher tried.
?James wouldn't listen to another word. He shut the door behind him and felt his way up the stairs, navigating sightlessly. It was more peaceful here, away from those dysfunctional people.
?He thumbed Eris. It was faint, but he could feel it. She thought walking away was the right thing to do.
?"I'm sorry I felt betrayed by you," he muttered. "You only have my best interests at heart. I know that."
?She had been protecting him all this time, even though he never knew the extent, she'd never sought his gratitude. His silent partner.
?People were complicated, his connections with them fickle and unsteady; their wills butting against his own. The men he'd left downstairs were no different and it was something James wasn't equipped to tolerate for long. Eris, though, was an anchor.
?Once he got to the door, he hesitated, even though the room was for all of them. He squared his shoulders and delicately rapped his knuckles against the wood.
?Alex pulled it open, his expression shuttered. There were probably weaknesses in the armour, but it wasn't like James could see them. The only light in the room was a lamp on the desk, and the glow of streetlamps that soaked through the curtains.
?"I'm surprised it's you who came first," Alex said.
?"Well, you said 'sense of duty'," James joked, awkwardly. "Who better?"
?Alex raised his eyebrows, doubtful. Even if the joke didn't land particularly well, Alex didn't deride it either.
?Alex moved out of the way, allowing James in. The desk was littered with the documents James had stolen, whilst some were laid out to dry, alongside all the wet clothes they'd shed.
?James smiled softly. Despite it all, the very first thing Alex had done when he'd entered the room was hang all their clothes to dry. How could James not be fond of such a man?
?"Aren't you cold?" James asked him. Alex was the only one not to take any wet layers off.
?Alex grumbled something under his breath and went to sit on the side of one of the beds, leaning against the wall. He rested his head back and closed his eyes.
?Carefully, James joined him, delicately lowering himself onto the mattress like he was worried his movements could disturb the other man. He echoed Alex's position and pressed up against his side, touching all down from their shoulders to their legs.
?Now that he knew why Alex didn't like taking clothes off, it wasn't a solution he'd suggest. Instead, he'd just offer his own warmth for them to share.
?"Did you not find anything?" James asked, rubbing one of his palms and inspecting the scabs on it.
?"I actually think you'd be better off looking through it," Alex murmured, his low voice rumbling through his shoulder. "You'd know the Ankaid nobility better than I would."
?Like Eris' comfort, James felt a similar warm feeling when he touched Alex. Except, there was also a very slight nervousness that annoyed him. It wasn't friendship. Yes, they were friends. But, that wasn't what was concerning him.
?"Want me to, right now?"
?Alex declined, then after a brief moment, he let his head fall against James'. James could feel the way Alex's soft but damp and tangled curls tickled his face.
?"I won't ask you to do that yet. You're tired."
?James bit the inside of his lip, considering his next words. Riley had been well within his right to say a lot of those things, he simply stepped in to prevent them from being overworked when no one else would. But, he also didn't understand Alex in the way that James did.
?"I am tired," James confirmed, "but I'm happy to be a useful idiot if it helps you."
?Alex stiffened slightly. "Did Riley call you that?"
?It didn't matter who said it, as long as they were right. James couldn't trust his own sense of reality anymore, let alone his own lies and truths. It was just a fact that he struggled to accept more times than others.
?He'd been so insistent that feelings weren't a thing he'd had; despite the blatant evidence on the contrary.
It was the kind of phrase he'd recite at the height of his annoyance, or stubbornly insist on when he'd felt pained, as if saying enough times would make it true.
Yes, he wasn't as emotionally attuned as others, but it was futile denying their existence so absolutely.
?"I might not always do what you want, but you're always free to ask," James said, "I will always say no if I don't want to."
?Alex sighed. "James, you know I'm using you right?"
?"Of course." But, what was so wrong about that? He'd used his mentor, and his mentor had used him. It was survival.
?"I don't see you as a 'useful idiot'," Alex insisted, "far from it. You're a lot brighter than I am."
?James wasn't sure if Alex was talking only about his intelligence.
?He quietly sniggered, deprecating himself. "I am an idiot, actually. Because I want to say that you can use my feelings for you as well. I give you consent to do that."
?Alex pulled back, regarding James' face with a sad expression. "But, that's not good of me."
?If his past had gone differently, James would've been able to discern every detail, every crease. James feathered the back of his fingers on Alex's face, wanting to feel what he couldn't see. Although Alex tensed up at the touch, uncomfortable, he didn't brush James' hands away.
?James only just realised how strange the action was, and he paused. They were both still, holding their breaths. Alex wasn't moving away, he wasn't rejecting it. James' chest squirmed on the inside.
?Faced with such a swell of emotion, James retreated, uncertain of himself. He lowered his hand, staring at it like it was the sole culprit.
?Riley had been right; these were the kinds of feelings men got for women. James was sure of it now, and it terrified him.
?"Good?" he heard himself say, his body moving on its own, as if he hadn't just learned something catastrophic about himself. "I gave you permission."
?James couldn't look at him, he kept his eyes trained on his hands, like there may have been a way out on them.
?Nothing was said for a few moments, the silence stretching and overcast by the rumbling of thunder in the distance, the splatter of rain being pushed against the window by gusts of wind.
?"I have a question," James stated.
?"Ask," Alex replied, his voice humming with confusion, like he wasn't sure why James was seeking his blessing, possibly finding it unusual. James rarely asked for permission,
?"Why do you try so hard for people who mock you?"
?Alex breathed out deeply, pondering the question sincerely.
It was something that still confused James, even now.
Alex seemed to despise the kingdom and the people in it, yet worked himself to the bone to protect it all.
He'd give vague reasons for doing so, justifying it with his values and sense of duty, but James had never been convinced.
?"I think... that the price of ignorance shouldn't be death," Alex said, slowly, "strangers don't owe me anything."
?But, that was only half the story.
?"Yet, you think you owe them?"
?Alex paused. "No," he admitted. "That's not why I do this."
?James waited patiently, without uttering a single coercive word. Perhaps Alex had never thought too deeply about it himself and was trying to twine his thoughts into a coherent narrative, or maybe he was waiting for James to get bored. Either way, James would accept whatever decision Alex made.
?He closed his eyes, enjoying Alex's warmth, pretending his eyes were fine, that his fingers still had prints on them, and that if he held Alex's hands he could feel the ridges and heat. It was a nice thought, one he found difficult to push away.
?In another lifetime maybe they both could've lived boring normal lives and could've met each other with pure hearts and less pain.
?"I think there are three reasons," Alex finally murmured, his voice soft. It did little to push aside the dream in James' head. He imagined them sitting on haybales, taking a long summer's break in the shade.
?He tapped Alex's leg to let him know he was listening.
?"It's embarrassing," Alex prefaced, "but I think a part of me hopes that maybe people will accept me if I save enough of them.
It's a grossly shallow reason to want to save lives, I think.
But, honestly? I've never considered myself a good person in the first place, even if I try to pretend to be. "
?A good person was someone who did good actions, James believed. He'd never thought the intention was the biggest issue, it was about how many lives you impacted on. He didn't say this out loud. Alex didn't need clumsy consolations from him.
?"I struggle to sit still anyway," Alex admitted, "I— have to be working; all the time. It feels wrong to rest, even if it means I'm up late every night. Sometimes I forget that other people aren't like me, like earlier."
?"Why does it feel wrong?" James asked.
?Alex shrugged, brushing the question off.
?"Also..." Alex faltered.
?It was okay if Alex didn't want to say anything. It was his choice.
?Alex pulled his legs up to his chest, their thighs no longer touching, leaving James cold.
As if to make up for it, Alex started to share his weight on James' shoulder, pressing up against it firmly.
James pretended not to take notice of any of these things, even if it was all he could think about.
?"I want to save others, even if they don't ask for help, because I don't want hope to go unanswered, or to ruin anyone again. Because... I wished someone could have saved me when I needed it."
?James smiled, sadly. Alex was such a brave and capable man, it felt heavy on the heart to imagine a time when he'd been a defenceless little child, longing and hoping to be saved, only for those dreams to bear no fruit. Alex had since become the man that he wished he could've relied on as a kid.
?"Thank you for telling me," James said, genuinely.
?Alex scratched his head, embarrassed. "I'm not sure why you want to know all this."
?"No? I made it quite clear, I thought. I like you."
?Alex huffed a laugh at that.
?"Well— in the only way an emotionally stunted assassin like me is able to," James allowed.
?"You admit you have emotions now?" Alex teased.
?"I never denied it in the first place."
?Alex laughed sincerely and nudged James with his shoulder, playfully pushing him away. "You filthy liar."
?The mood sobered again, and it became apparent to James that Alex still had more he was debating whether to say.
?"Truthfully, I know why I'm like this," Alex said. "And, I hate it."
?Just then, a light knock came at the door and Fletcher cautiously peeped his head in, looking apprehensive.
?Alex sighed. "Did Riley tell you we were doing something inappropriate?"
?Fletcher's face burned a dark red, ducking his head.
?"He's not been very nice tonight," James informed Alex.
?"No, he hasn't," Fletcher mousily agreed, closing the door behind him. "Call it a merchant's instinct, but I don't trust people who smile too much. I'm not as naive as you might think." He froze for a moment. "I'm not interrupting anything... right?"
?Alex grunted in annoyance, waving the suggestion off. "No, you're not. for Gods' sake. He's just being a prick."
?Fletcher nodded and then fell on one of the other beds, wrapping himself in the blanket and folding himself into a knot. The silence dragged on, but the ball was in Alex's court. James assumed Alex wouldn't continue but he'd turned out to be wrong.
?"I never knew either of my parents," Alex said, no louder than a low rumble.
"My mum died minutes before they cut me out of her, and I never knew who my father was.
The slaves told me she'd been raped by another one of them, the duke claimed she'd been raped by a knight. Either way, it was awful for her."
?James regarded him. He'd never thought to wonder who Alex's real parents were. James had never lived in a reality where his own mum and dad were anything but a happily married couple.
?Alex smiled wryly. "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I don't look mixed, aren't you?"
?James felt his face heat up. "I never said that, though."
?Thankfully, Alex didn't seem too offended. "You'd be surprised. Many slaves are mixed but you'd never think so, it doesn't always work like that."
?"I'm sorry about your mum," James said, plainly.
?Alex thought for a moment and then shrugged. "I never knew her, so I can't feel love for her. But, I do feel pity for the scared little girl she was. For a while, people wondered if the duke was my father, much to his disgust, but I know he isn't."
?Even though Fletcher wasn't speaking, he was listening intently, looking at them with big eyes. James was glad he was showing tact.
?"On the duke's compound, there were quite a few slaves that spoke Khearian, and I was one of them. It was the only way we'd know what to do. They all hated me though, they thought I was a curse to their community. And, I was, in the end."
?James mulled over the revelation.In the end?
?"Every year, I got tired of seeing the adults abandon the weaker children to save themselves during the Kalou. So, when a couple of the knights came to slaughter us one night, I picked up my mattock and smashed in their skulls."
?Alex winced at the memory. "The duke wasn't happy, that's for sure. But, he needed a dog, and I was there, so he took me in, adopting me, and had me trained to be the perfect mutt. He told me that as long as I was obedient, that he'd leave my compound alone each Kalou."
?"And that was the leverage you mentioned?" James inquired.
?"Well..." Alex tangled his fingers together, resisting a fidget.
"It was. And, then, it wasn't." His hands clenched tightly.
"They never told the rest of the compound this, probably to keep them under control.
And, a number of them had taken inspiration from what I'd done.
Truthfully, I think they just felt ashamed to see a young boy achieve something they'd never tried.
So, come along the next Kalou, the slaves were the ones to make the first move. .."
?Fletcher gasped faintly, reading between the lines. James' heart hammered in his head.
?"They were slaughtered. I went to check on them after training that evening, and most of them were dead."
?"I'm so sorry," Fletcher said, "I had no idea..."
?Alex rolled his shoulders back, trying to shake the unpleasantness off. "Somewhere out there is a piece of paper with my thumbprint on it that gives the duke the right to do anything he wants to me and my kin for four days a year. And there's nothing I can do to get to get it back."
?Without thinking, James pried Alex's hands apart and held onto one of them tightly, squeezing.
?"I never really thought about Kalou before," Fletcher said, his voice wobbling. "It sounds disgusting."
?It was something James had contemplated but he'd never thought too deeply about. To him, it merely slid off his mind under the excuse of population control and public safety. But, for the slaves, it must have been Hell.
?Whenever slave populations swelled too high, it was believed that the situation would end up like Edobury— where crime and disorder became rampant.
Now that he thought about it, Edobury would fester the perfect storm of paranoia and fear that would boost support for such a tradition.
If James was being cynical, he'd bet that that might've been why they'd not done anything to solve the problem already.
?"But now that I can use you, I won't have to worry about it," Alex said optimistically, squeezing James' hand back. "You can forgive me of my crimes."
?James' heart sank, his throat constricting.
?"Crimes?"
?"Slaves are prisoners of war, James," Alex stated, simply. "Whether I was born into it or not, I am a criminal to this kingdom, a prisoner."
?But, James wasn't going to stay here. He was going to leave.
?Riley's words resurfaced in his mind;
?'You'll ruin Alex.'
?"I don't know if this will be any consolation," Fletcher began, "but there's one thing soldiers and scholars have in common. If those slaves fought back, then they're warriors in their own right."
?Alex entertained him. "And what's that?"
?"We both believe a person dies twice; once when their body decays, and again when they're spoken about for the very last time."
?"Thank you, Fletcher," Alex said, "but no one remembers a slave."
?Fletcher pursed his lips. "It's a scholar's job to ensure those who deserve to be remembered are. I can do that for them if you'd like, I promise you."
?Alex smiled at the sentiment but James got the impression that Alex didn't quite believe him. "I appreciate the thought."
?It was after that conversation when Riley and Thomas returned, savaging at each other's throats. Alex had let go of James' hand the moment they'd came in, standing to claim a different bed.
?It was strange.
?James had long since lost all feeling in his palms, his nerves burned to numbness. But, even as the others socialised, he stared down at them.
?They felt cold.
A/N: Current word count: 145,237