Chapter Twenty #2
It wasn’t long before the outer chamber door swung open. Cador wanted to raise his fists in a mighty cheer when Jem walked in, but Jem only gave him a nod, his expression cool and damn confusing. Cador almost strode over and swept him up into a kiss anyway.
Dripping water all over the stone floor as if he’d gone for a swim, Jem stiffly approached, the guards watching warily from the doorway. He bowed to Tas and said, “I apologize for your confinement.” His gaze flicked to Jory. “And yours. All of you.”
Tas snorted. “How generous.”
Cador’s instinct was to defend Jem, but he’d spent his life obeying Tas.
Seeking his approval. Clearly he’d lost that now, but he still hesitated.
He looked to Delen, who sat in the corner with Creeda’s head in her lap.
Delen watched Tas closely. Creeda had finally wailed herself into exhaustion, passing out more than falling asleep.
Though he looked like a tiny drowned boar as he wiped his wet curls off his face, Jem stood straight. Unbowed. He said, “When I left Ergh, seeing you and your children locked away in the dungeon was my greatest wish.”
Not a surprise, but it still gave Cador a sick jolt to hear Jem say it. Delen watched silently, stroking Creeda’s tangled mess of hair, and Tas glowered.
Jem continued. “I imagined I would return home and tell my mother what you’d done.
How you’d planned to maim me at the very least and see me suffer to manipulate her.
Then she’d throw the three of you in the dungeon, and I’d be safe.
She’d take charge and fix everything. Make this all go away so I could return to my sheltered little world of books and privilege.
Find a way to heal the sick children without war.
Somehow. It didn’t matter as long as all was right in the world once more. ”
He met Cador’s gaze, and Cador could hardly breathe. Jem said, “But I can’t go back. None of us can. Our world is changed, and we must band together to build a new future.”
“Why should we believe a word of this? Where’s the queen? Why isn’t she apologizing?”
“Why aren’t you ?” Delen hissed. “Jem didn’t deserve any of this.”
“And our children did?” Tas roared. “Hedrok did?”
Creeda stirred awake, and Delen petted her as she said to Tas, “Of course not. But Jem’s right. We must work together for all our children. You and the queen have both made a mess of things trying to protect your people. Who knows what the West will do, but—”
“Perran’s soldiers are less than an hour away.
” Jem grimaced as thunder boomed so loudly the windows rattled.
“And it seems Glaw has finally decided to make up for lost time with the late-summer rains. My mother is preparing for the West’s arrival.
Hopefully it won’t be an invasion. The army that approaches is small, so we’ll see. ”
“Let us fight!” Tas shouted. He quickly added, “As you said, we must be allies.”
“We hope to avoid any fighting, but yes, you are all released. I will take Creeda back to her son.”
Creeda, who shoved herself to her feet with Delen following, wasted no time in barreling out the door. Jem hesitated, blinking at the floor. Cador followed his gaze to the bundle of twigs Creeda must have dropped.
For a moment, Jem looked like he might vomit. Then, with a deep breath, he crossed the room and picked up the talisman. Giving Cador another calm nod, he left.
Tas was saying something, but Cador raced after Jem, soon dizzy in the tight circular tube of stairs. From below, Hedrok’s screams echoed, Jem staying just out of reach as Cador struggled to stay upright on his ridiculous boots, his chin throbbing.
It seemed like chaos in the sickroom, though really it was still aside from Hedrok’s thrashing arms. The healer stood nearby with hands clasped, Creeda on her knees by the bed and Delen hovering near.
Jem extended the twig talisman to Creeda, a tremor in his hand. She tore her gaze from her son, poor Hedrok writhing though his tortured body could barely move now aside from his arms. Creeda snatched the twigs from Jem but only stared at them, not launching into one of her prayers.
Cador dropped to his knees across the sickbed from her, taking one of Hedrok’s hands.
It was hot and sweaty, trembling and weak.
What could Cador say to provide any comfort?
What could anyone say or do? The tendons in Hedrok’s neck were surely going to burst through his papery skin, and the screech of his cries would haunt Cador’s nightmares.
“Can’t you do something?” he demanded of the healer—what had Jem called them? Tregereth?
Tregereth stepped forward. “The only thing any of us can do is ease his journey to the gods.”
Jem seemed to brace, inching back from Creeda to the foot of the bed. Delen too seemed to ready for a battle. But Creeda only stared between the bundle of twigs and her boy. She placed her hand atop Hedrok’s head and looked not to the healer, but Jem.
“What do you think?”
Jem actually glanced behind, clearly surprised she was asking him. He stepped forward and kneeled beside her. “I think Tregereth is right and you should allow them to end Hedrok’s pain.” He looked to Cador, raising his eyebrows in question.
“Yes,” Cador rasped before clearing his throat. “You’ve done everything you can. Bryok…” He wished he knew what to say about his brother.
Creeda gritted her teeth. “Bryok should be here with his son, but he never had the kind of strength that matters.” She pressed the talisman to her dry lips. “Will you pray with me?” She looked to Tregereth and nodded in one sharp motion.
As the healer went about their work, Hedrok seemed to sense relief was coming, his cries calming to pitiful whimpers.
Cador held his hand as he choked on Tregereth’s potion, Creeda murmuring her prayers, her palm anchoring her son’s head as he passed from this life to what Cador sincerely hoped would be a place of peace.
It happened shockingly quickly, Hedrok’s hand going cold and clammy in Cador’s grip in only a few heartbeats. He was so very small, and Cador could imagine him simply withering into dust now that the pain had vanished along with his life. Hedrok was empty, and Cador felt the same.
Creeda prayed and prayed, all of them witnessing her pleas with heads bowed until she fell silent. Delen gave Cador a little nod, and he and Jem slipped out with the healer, who went on their way without another word.
Cador and Jem were finally alone again in the hallway, rain lashing the windows under a stony sky. Had it only been hours since Cador had fucked him roughly and spilled inside him? He was still shirtless and Jem was sodden and shivering.
Before Cador could think of the right thing to say or take Jem into his arms or do anything other than stand there uselessly, that fucker Pasco strode down the hall. Cador growled with a sudden burst of rage. He wanted to punch and spear and scream, for Hedrok was dead and it wasn’t fucking fair.
Jem grabbed his arm. “No. It wasn’t Pasco who took you to the tower.”
“I don’t care.” But he didn’t fight, eager to feel the touch of Jem’s small hand.
Pasco raised his hands. “We have bigger foes to face.”
“Perran’s army?” Jem asked sharply.
“I assume the rain has slowed their approach at least.” Pasco peered out the windows, forehead furrowing. “These rains are heavier than usual. I suppose it’s better than wildfires, but Glaw is overdoing it.” He turned his frown on Jem and Cador. “You two better clean up. How is the boy?”
“Dead,” Cador answered flatly.
Pasco’s mouth turned down. “I’m truly sorry. We must cure this terrible disease.”
Cador had to agree, so he nodded, the restless, bloodthirsty energy fading. “You will help us fight King Perran for the sevels if need be?”
“If need be,” Pasco agreed easily. “You two must make yourselves presentable.”
Cador scoffed. “I can run King Perran through on my sword naked if I have to.” Too bad he’d left it behind at the Holy Place.
“As… impressive as that might be to watch, let us hope diplomacy will be attempted first.” Pasco turned on his heel and left them.
Jem released Cador’s arm, walking toward the grand staircase. Cador followed, for what else could he do? He wanted to be at his side. Yet at the door to Jem’s chamber upstairs, Jem turned to block him, saying, “You need to change. Your clothes are in there.” He nodded to the marriage chamber.
“Yes, but—”
“Please. We must join my mother and ensure whatever negotiations happen are in Ergh’s best interest. Everything else can wait.”
“We don’t even know if there will be negotiations.”
“No, but let’s hope for it. Whatever happens, we must represent Ergh with honor.”
He was right, and Cador loved him all the more for caring about Ergh’s best interests.
So he nodded and retreated to the other chamber instead of carrying Jem to his bed and stripping off his wet clothes to warm him with kisses.
It would have to wait. Jem might still reject him, so at least Cador could live in hope for a little while longer.
He pawed through the clothing hanging in a wardrobe, pleased to see the seamstress had already finished true Erghian-style clothes including leather trousers and vest. He hesitated.
If a fight did break out with the Western soldiers, these clothes would be far more practical.
But would it be more…political to wear the fancy Neuvellan things?
Tas would hate it. But would it please Jem and the queen? What mattered most was coming to an agreement with King Perran. Reluctantly, he picked a green silk shirt and clean breeches. He was still struggling with the shirt’s fine, smooth buttons when Jem knocked.
“Come in!” Cador called, annoyed that Jem had knocked at all. They were still married. This was their wedding chamber, wasn’t it?
“Are you ready?” Jem remained in the doorway. His curls were still damp, but he looked every inch the mainland prince in a fresh purple shirt and fawn breeches and boots.
“If I could just… Why do you mainlanders insist on wearing such ridiculous garments?” He was ready to rip off the damn buttons.
“Here, let me.” Jem joined him by the wardrobe, easily closing the row of buttons. Jem peered into the wardrobe. “Wait, why don’t you put on the leather?”
“I wasn’t sure if—I thought you might like me more in this.” He hadn’t meant it to sound so damn needy. “Not—I don’t—” He grunted in disgust, not knowing what the fuck to say or do.
Jem watched him silently before reaching into the wardrobe and pulling out the stiff new leather clothing. “Neuvellan clothes don’t suit you.” He frowned. “Your chin is bleeding again.” He disappeared into the bathing room.
He wasn’t wrong that the thin, fancy clothes didn’t suit Cador. They made him uncomfortable, and obviously he should wear the leathers. It shouldn’t have fucking wounded him to hear Jem say what he did.
Stop being pathetic.
Whether he was a mighty hunter of Ergh or a marauding woodsman or whoever he had to be for Jem to forgive him, he wouldn’t win back his husband with childish sulking and hurt feelings.
Cador yanked on the black leather trousers and laced the vest over his bare chest. There were even boots that had clearly been modified from a tall Neuvellan pair, but they’d do.
He sat on a stool to tug up the boots, raising his head to find Jem watching.
Silently, he approached Cador and dabbed at his cut chin with a damp cloth.
Though Cador still sat on the stool, Jem didn’t have to bend far to tend to his chin.
He leaned close between Cador’s legs. Holding his breath, Cador wanted to wrap his arms around Jem’s middle and never let go.
But he kept his hands at his sides as Jem dabbed a stinging ointment on his chin before saying, “That’ll have to do. We should find my mother.” He paused, his hand coming to rest on Cador’s bare arm. “I’m sorry about Hedrok. I wish there was more we could have done.”
“At least he’s not suffering any longer.” Without warning, tears pricked Cador’s eyes. He had to breathe deeply before he could say, “We must help the other innocents before it’s too late.” He pushed to his feet before he started weeping.
Worse than being pathetic and weak was the fear that if he allowed himself the grief and tears, Jem wouldn’t offer comfort, and that would hurt even more.