Chapter Eleven
“W hy is this mainland prince living with you?”
Idly patting Massen’s neck, Cador glanced up at Ruan’s question.
Ruan toyed with his spear. He had brown skin and a ready smile, his hair shorn close to his head as befitting a hunter, light gray showing.
Wrinkles spread around his brown eyes, but he was as fierce and mighty as he’d been since Cador was a boy.
Peering through the rain-damp pine needles, Cador still saw no sign of their quarry. Holding his spear against his thigh, the point toward the ground, he considered the question.
“I don’t know,” he murmured honestly, matching Ruan’s quiet tone.
Cador realized it actually hadn’t occurred to him that Jem didn’t have to live at the cottage.
Even if Jem made a run for it, he wouldn’t get far on Ergh.
Tracking him would be laughably easy. He was trapped with no need of bars on his prison.
Surely there was a place for him to live in Rusk until the time came.
He could have his own house where he wouldn’t insist on passing long nights on the floor since apparently the thought of sharing Cador’s bed merely to sleep was beneath him. Jem had now slept three nights on the hearth and tried to hide his winces in the morning.
Yet the idea of Jem living alone left Cador uneasy. He wouldn’t know anyone in Rusk. He had no friends or family in Ergh. His growing hatchling could only provide so much company, although he seemed content nursing her.
Still, it wasn’t as though they said much to each other. Perhaps Jem would be glad to live on his own. Maybe he’d be relieved. It should be a relief for them both. The people of Rusk would certainly not blame Cador for not wanting to be burdened with a useless husband with whom he shared nothing.
Although, if Cador thought about it, he supposed they both had an interest in animals.
He’d answered Jem’s many questions about chickens and shown him how to milk the goats.
Jem was a surprisingly good student given he was used to servants catering to his every whim.
Surprising too was that Cador found himself enjoying the lessons. Looking forward to them, even.
He’d found more little subjects to teach as the days passed, showing how the well operated and the method for fixing the fence around the animals’ enclosure.
Jem gave him shy little smiles whenever Cador praised him and had answered Cador’s occasional questions about the birds on the mainland, and the special place Jem had built for them that he called an aviary.
Well, the place servants or craftspeople had built on his behalf.
“You only wed him for the good of Ergh,” Ruan said after a long silence.
Cador looked at him sharply, although Ruan’s gaze was still on the trees beside them.
Had Ruan learned the plan? Did he know Jem would be kidnapped?
If it was known to more than absolutely necessary, the more dangerous it became.
It was best to pretend he and Jem were true husbands.
At least that they’d fucked. He tried to find the right words for the lie when Ruan spoke again.
“It’s not as if you fell in love at first sight with him. Clearly this is politics. No need to put on a show for us. We all know this is not a true marriage. That should be of the heart. The soul. When I married my Gerren, it made me whole.”
Cador had always scoffed at such romantic notions, although he knew Ruan and Gerren were very happy living in their cottage in Rusk’s eastern valley. “Prince Jowan certainly doesn’t make me whole. But he is my burden. No one else’s.”
“Is it true he can’t even ride?”
“Aye.”
Ruan made a sound of disgust. “How lazy life must be there.”
Cador grimaced in agreement, fighting the odd impulse to defend Jem even though he’d said the same many times. Branches rustled—the only hint of her approach—as Delen appeared in their little clearing on her mount.
“I heard Austol tried to teach him,” she said.
For fuck’s sake. Cador could imagine the gossip slithering through Rusk. He wasn’t sure why he felt so annoyed, but forced a shrug. “A lost cause.”
“At least Jem’s trying,” Delen said mildly.
“Shouldn’t be taking Austol away from his responsibilities,” Cador muttered.
She gave him a long look. “I imagine Austol is eager for a distraction.”
Yes. That was fair enough. The three of them shared a heavy silence. Guilt pricked at Cador, the echo of young cries in his mind.
Delen said, “Hedrok asks for you. You should visit soon.”
The guilt swelled into a torrent. “Yes,” Cador agreed miserably, thinking of his nephew, who would soon be bedridden. “I will. Tomorrow.” Or perhaps the next day. It wasn’t that Cador didn’t want to see him, it was that…
You’re afraid. Admit it!
Talk mercifully returned to the hunt as they moved out to another spot, and Cador banished the thoughts of Hedrok and the dark cloud shadowing Ergh. He scratched Massen’s neck, mind wandering when it should have been sharp like the end of his spear.
Would Jem want his own cottage? If he did, why hadn’t he asked? It wouldn’t be any skin off Cador’s nose. It would be cause for celebration! Still… Might be wise to keep an eye on him. Make sure he didn’t unknowingly disrupt the plan.
Besides, Jem would be safer with Cador. The villagers would be curious, and he could imagine them competing to bed Jem if they knew Cador had no interest. Not because they desired a puny mainlander, but for the sport. Perhaps that was Austol’s purpose, although it seemed unlike him.
It shouldn’t bother Cador one way or the other, yet when he thought of Austol and Jem in a tangle of limbs on the barn floor or sharing a smile, he wanted to smash his fist into Austol’s smooth face. Such nonsense since he’d ever only had friendly respect for the man.
The forest was still, and he urged Massen through a thick stand of trees, needles scraping Cador’s cheeks. Above, askells chirped and called to each other. It had been a surprise even one of the birds Jem had rescued survived.
Cador still wasn’t sure he shouldn’t have just put them all out of their misery with the mercy of his boot, but Jem had such confidence he could heal the tiny survivor. Cador watched sometimes in the night, the fire’s glow orange on Jem’s face as he tended the hatchling, waking at its faintest cry.
There was discipline in that kindness. Cador could admit that a lazy man would never have rescued the hatchlings in the first place.
Jem was not lazy. He remembered the steady press of fingers on his wrist aboard the ship and thought if he was truly ill or injured, he could do worse than returning home to Jem’s care.
Of course, the boy would be gone soon enough, so it wasn’t even worth thinking on.
Yet now the thought of what came after the war nagged. Once they were victorious—he couldn’t allow himself to ponder what would happen if they somehow lost—Jem could be returned to his castle in Neuvella and his easy life.
He remembered the press of fingers on his wrist once more. It would be Jem’s right hand removed to send to his mother since that was the one branded with Ergh’s tusks. It seemed unfortunately to be the one he favored. But surely he’d be able to adapt.
Not that he’d have a choice.
Acid churned Cador’s stomach. He had to admit it was easier to agree to the plan when it’d been merely words and not deeds. And once the war was done, Jem would still be his husband. How often would they see each other? He supposed not very.
The thought made him strangely uneasy instead of relieved, and Cador’s traitorous mind returned to Jem time and again when he should have been focused on the hunt.
Instead, he mused that Jem was equally intent with the goats and chickens as he was with the hatchling, as if listening to them—as though he could understand their language of bleats and clucks.
But when Cador returned daily from hunting with Massen, Jem kept a wide berth. He really should learn to ride. His fear of horses would do him no favors on Ergh.
Jem would surely enjoy horses once he knew their sweet loyalty and overcame his fright. Massen would love him if Jem only gave him the chance. Cador was duty bound to teach him, wasn’t he? Especially since there was no need to trouble Austol. No need at all. In fact—
The unmistakable thunder of boar hooves came from a distance. Cador’s heart boomed and all other thoughts finally fled. The chase was on.
Later, after Ruan had skinned that day’s kill and it was taken into Rusk for distribution, Cador headed Massen toward home. Massen had galloped without hesitation or complaint for hours, so Cador let him meander along the path, eventually joining up with the trail from his cottage that led to Rusk.
They entered the clearing to find Jem at the edge of the trees on the other side, his body tense.
The new leather trousers hugged his arse as he bent forward a bit, staring into the forest. Frowning, Cador hopped down from Massen, approaching Jem silently lest he scare away whatever Jem was looking at. Perhaps a byghan.
When he stood an arm’s length away, Cador whispered, “What is it?”
Whirling, Jem yelped, jumping right off the ground. He and Cador stared at each other for a stunned moment—then burst out laughing. It was a sudden release of pressure Cador hadn’t even known was needed.
It felt damn good to laugh. More than that, it felt good to laugh with Jem. He realized that since that flash of Jem’s heretical, spirited grin on the ship, he’d wanted to see it again. There had been little smiles, but not this joyous expression.
“You scared me!” Jem pressed a hand to his chest. His teeth gleamed in his wide smile, his honey eyes crinkling.
Cador had to smile in return. “Not my intention. I thought you’d hear me coming.”