LXXI
There wasn't much time for a funeral, only a single evening.
?In the west, from the windy coasts of which Riley hailed, they returned their dead to the ocean rather than the stars.
Along the sand they'd rest their loved ones, carefully tucking them under their best firewood and, by the falling of night, they would spark it alight.
Seeing the blaze, Moira would safely guide the dead to the afterlife.
By morning, the tide would rise, rolling up the beach, and dragging the ashes to their ancestors out in the blue.
?Such a romantic send-off was only a dream this far in the midlands. Mererid couldn't even wish her cousin farewell properly. Her silhouette was eerily strong against the burning rage of Riley's fire. It roared at her.
?Three flames, three dead. Riley and two of the Drykas men.
?The wooden stack of Riley's squealed and shifted, crunching and collapsing, the air engulfed in by flame in a woosh, whipping up a tantrum.
?Duke Straton tried to pry Mererid back; she was too close. She smacked his hand away. She didn't want his concern, not after what he'd done to her.
?Sniffles came from beside James. Fletcher wiped at his eyes, tears poured down. Thomas was in a trance, staring into the blaze.
?"He was going to die one day anyway," James said, softly. "That's life. It's inevitable. He... just got there before us. It's not a sad thing."
?Thomas' voice stabbed in. "Who are you trying to convince?"
?It was clear. James' clumsy condolences weren't welcome.
?"Thank you for trying, James," Fletcher said, tripping the words out on stuttered breath. "But, please, no more."
?A familiar song rang out. A woman's voice, Mererid, a muffled tune swaying in the low rumble of fire.
It was soft, and slow, like a hug, flowing in the old language of the west. Some of the men knew it, too, and gradually they laid their souls into the air, blanketing over the roars until it smothered under their voices.
?Alex stood at attention, his fist on his heart, as did the others, listening to a language they didn't understand. Without realising, the words spilled over James' lips. It ached in his heart. If the others were surprised, he didn't see. He couldn't tear his gaze away from the violent light.
?James, too, would one day die, and his memories would die along with him.
They'd keep going without Riley, his existence slowly slipping from their minds.
A day without his memory would turn into a week, then a month, eventually, his existence would be betrayed and they'd forget him almost entirely.
This was the only apology James could give.
?At least, now, Riley wasn't tired anymore. He was with the people he belonged to.
?"Ffarwell," James sang. Farewell.
?"I'm surprised you respect the dead," Alex hollowly commented.
?It wasn't intended as a slight, even if it came across as one. Alex's gaze was empty and lifeless, the grief trampled down.
?"I respect the man," James replied.
?"I see."
?James had seen enough. Even if the others stayed, he walked away.
?Spotting Harrison lingering along the fringes, James approached him. He'd evaded the advisor until now. Perhaps it was primitive instinct but James was averse to snakes, even the human variety.
?"Harrison."
?"You're a difficult man to catch," Harrison informed him.
?"You lot never look in the right places."
?Harrison hummed. "And Alexander does?"
?"I'm not averse to Alex, quite simply."
?It wasn't an appropriate occasion to smile but that didn't stop Harrison.
?"I'm curious..." Harrison began. "Not as an advisor, but as a man. You had every chance to run away. Hell, we provided you with every chance. So, why didn't you?"
?They provided him with every chance? James wasn't sure what Harrison's goals were by saying that— or if it was true.
?"The crown is my birthright," James put.
?"You don't want it."
?Harrison wasn't guessing, he knew.
?"Well, how could I break my promise?"
?"Very good."
?Slowly, the numbers were dwindling, the fires dying. James didn't fault the first to leave. Overstaying at a funeral didn't make one a better griever. His gaze lingered on Mererid.
?"You approached me for a reason," Harrison reminded him.
?James nodded. He hesitated. "Prince Edric..." he said. "If his guard was named Simon... I want you to bury Riley's ashes next to that person's."
?"I remember that man," Harrison noted with a hint of surprise. "Riley had been the one to identify the body for us."
?James winced, severely. What a punishing existence.
?"That's all."
?"Ah," Harrison held up a hand and stopped James from leaving. "The issue of Queen Marigold—"
?"Do whatever you want with her once she's given birth. She's not my problem a moment later."
?"That's cold," Harrison hummed, amused.
?"Your insight is sharp, Sir Harrison."
?Harrison laughed, it disturbed the mourners nearby.
?"It's nice to finally meet you, Prince Julian. Your authentic self will be a competent and ferocious ally. I look forward to seeing your 'birthright' realised."
?"Keep yourself safe, until then," James warned. "Days like these are dangerous.
?James fled the conversation, crossing the courtyard back towards the villa. At the door, he rested his hand on the knob, pausing. He could see it in the reflection of the glass: the flames. The choice slowly suffocated him, leaving him paralysed with indecision.
?He hadn't before but, this time, he turned around, casting his eyes to the dead behind him. He stared at them in all their beautiful destruction.
? ? ? ?
Because James hadn't been sure where Fletcher and Alex would want to sleep, he left both the bed and sofa free in case they wanted space or brought Thomas with them.
Instead, he dozed on blankets on the comfortably cool ground.
The dreamcatcher had returned to the bedside table to ease whoever took it.
?In and out he drifted, slightly beyond the cusp of sleep but not quite falling into the full depth, as always. Vague memories and monsters holding their breaths to attack the moment he became vulnerable.
?He'd woken when they'd entered. Three whispering voices. James had been right, they'd brought Thomas in with them; the knight wouldn't sleep in the other room.
?James kept still, his eyes remaining shut, as their movements lightly disturbed the silence. One took the bed, another took the sofa, the third remained, unmoving.
?Then, footsteps quietly padded towards where James lay, a familiar gait.
Alex sat next to him, pausing with each movement, tentatively, until, finally, they lay side by side.
Alex positioned his chest against James' back and balanced his arm around James' body.
All of his touches were feathered, so painfully uncertain, as if trying to repress the weight of his own body. James remained still.
?Alex let out a long shaky breath and finally squeezed his arms around James, burying his face into the back of James' neck. It was hot, sticky, and Alex smelt like smoke but... James didn't rebuff any of it. He let Alex cling to him.
?Sleep reclaimed him, again.
? ? ? ?
Mererid was active in helping the men prepare for their last journey. She readied the horses, replaced the overworn saddles belonging to the knights and piled supplies into the wagons. James didn't say a word about the extra horse he'd seen her tug out.
?Perhaps it was because of James' promise breeding hope but Alex had become somewhat tethered to him. Alex lingered around him when he could. They didn't interact much but it felt like Alex was remaining faithful to an invisible rope that connected them.
?Despite the cost, James was satisfied with the prey his hook had caught.
?"You're not going!" a sudden boom of voice welled.
?It was Duke Straton; he'd finally found out his daughter's intentions.
?Mererid hiked her bag onto her back. "You won't stop me."
?Public displays of family arguments were unsightly but, after everything, there was no face left for the duchy to save.
?He grabbed the strap over her shoulder. "It's too dangerous for you!"
?"As dangerous as it was for Llwyd to reach Talum?" she snapped, resisting. "Or is it as dangerous as it was for Riley to slave away, day after day, chasing after his ghost?"
?"That's not fair—"
?"Fair?" she shrieked. "I gave up my life for you— I worried for you, to the point I was never able to worry for myself! You tricked me out of my life, and you're calling my words unfair?"
?"So, you're set on this, despite my words?" he calmly asked.
?She glared, pulling her bag out of his hands and hugging it tight against her chest. "I am."
?The duke sighed. Then, he gave out the order: "Guards!"
?Betrayal slumped her. She stared up at her father in hurt disbelief. Empathising with her plight, the duke's guards were gentle in their approach, giving her space to leave on her own will.
?Alex, who had the habit of becoming invested in irrelevant people, left his tether to come beside her. It wasn't his place to insert himself into the situation but he broke convention to do so, despite the glares it earned him from the duke.
?"This isn't your battle," Alex told her. "I understand your pain, I do. But, this is our fight against King Fabian, not Prince Maurice."
?Her face crumpled, nodding. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
?"You didn't."
?Alex was so kind and honest that it was mean. Mererid would internalise those words, she'd hold on to her hatred, knowing it was justified. Alex should've lied to her.
?Mererid wordlessly passed her bag to the guards and continued her duties in helping the Drykas soldiers and mercenaries, not sparing her father a second glance.
She became particularly interested in Fletcher as he sat on the ground, sketching their small army, his belongings unorganised. She lifted it all on his horse for him.
?Korcaster was but a mere day's travel away, where King William was waiting for them at the Curia.
Their three prisoners were secured in an armoured carriage, with only one small slither of an iron-barred window to keep them breathing.
James' eyes kept lingering on it despite himself.
Marigold was in there, along with the two widows.
?"Do you think you'll want to talk to her again?"
?James had heard them approach; Fletcher and Mererid; but the question itself surprised him.
?"Why would I want to do that?" he replied.
?Fletcher didn't seem convinced. "You were engaged to her."
?"She's a bitch."
?"And was she always like that?"
?James hesitated. "No," he admitted. "Not always..."
?Marigold had been a sweet child with the pressure of the world on her back. Despite her father's harsh words, his demands of her, she'd remained optimistic, laughing in the face of the pressure and chasing after glory only a pace behind James. It wasn't romantic love, but she had been something.
?"It's okay to be sad."
?"I'm not sad," James denied. "You're forgetting who suggested her execution."
?"Emotions aren't so convenient like that. You can be holding the knife and still grieve their deaths."
?"Sounds inconsistent," James wryly remarked. "You're wiser than you look, kid."
?Fletcher flushed red, trying to play off his embarrassment naturally. "I'm not a scholar for no reason. It took lots of hard work to get there."
?James glanced from Fletcher to Mererid and understood why the scholar was preening his achievements. James stifled his grin.
?"You're cute, gentle and smart," James listed, teasing. "What a catch you are, Sir Fletcher Azeus."
?Fletcher ducked his head, muttering something unintelligible. James reckoned he heard a "shut up" in there.
?Mererid took a step forward, determination hardening her frame. "Your Royal Highness," she firmly greeted.
?It was sobering to be called that. James' heart twisted as his other character gradually died. Commoner James, a rogue, was going to fade away.
?"Lady Mererid."
?"The guards told me you tried to chase after Maurice after..."
?James slowly nodded.
?Taking a steadying breath, her eyes darkened with rage. "Kill him."
?Fletcher kept quiet, watching her in concern.
?"He doesn't deserve to live," Mererid insisted. "I can render the Straton duchy subservient in debt to the Ankaid crown. He just needs to die. I can do the rest."
?It was a good deal. Strangely, it felt like he was Jay once more, selling and negotiating his services to the desperate and wronged. James had encountered many people like Mererid in his time. He trusted her promise.
?"You don't wish to do it yourself?"
?Mererid gritted her teeth. "I don't have that sort of power. I am only a woman."
?A woman, perhaps, but strong of will. She may not have been part of the men's world, but the border wasn't uncrossable.
It was possible to stab her foot over, entering their domain, but after that single step, she'd never fully belong to the woman's world again.
Violence was a permanent stamp on the soul.
?"And you're sure you won't regret it?"
?For the honour to be taken from her and executed by another. Whether she understood the intended question or not, James wouldn't know.
?"Never."
?James smiled slightly. "Then, I'll do everything in my power."
?"For Riley," she stated. She hadn't relaxed despite James' agreement.
?As he thought, she would've been better suited to do it herself. It was unfortunate that her choice wouldn't ever truly satisfy her.
?"For Riley."