Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
F irst to wake, Leander quietly threw on his clothes and made to exit the room he had shared with Jarryn.
“Leander?” Jarryn blinked blearily and rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed.
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“It’s not a problem. I should be getting up now anyway. Go, I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Leander nodded and closed the door behind him.
The main room in the tavern was bustling with activity as Leander descended the stairs.
Servers brought drinks and food to the tables while villagers chatted and filled their stomachs, readying themselves for another day of repairing what had been destroyed by the wyvern.
Seating himself at a table near the back of the room, Leander tapped his foot against the floor and waited. A serving girl approached in good time and Leander ordered two ales and two plates of bread and cheese, one for him and one for Jarryn.
The prince joined him before the food did and was surprised and grateful when a plate was placed in front of him.
“What time did you return to the room last night?” Jarryn asked as he tore off a piece of bread and popped it into his mouth. The prince had been asleep by the time Leander had staggered in. “I hope the bath was still warm for you.”
“Too late,” Leander replied, making a show of holding his head to shamefully admit he had a hangover. “I’m surprised at how deeply you sleep, I wasn’t quiet as I sloshed around the bathtub... which was at best lukewarm when I used it. Still smelled of rose petals though, so that was nice.”
Jarryn smiled. “Maybe you need a coffee rather than more ale. Better for hangovers.”
“If you say so,” Leander muttered and at the next opportunity ordered the hot drink from a passing serving girl. In the immortal realm, they had a cure-all drink for any ailments, including hangovers, but Leander doubted such a thing existed in this realm.
Jarryn observed Leander as he took his first sip and gasped at how hot it was.
“Do you really think it was a good idea to be getting inebriated on the king’s time?
Because that’s what’s happening around you, you know.
The king sent us here to help these people and you’re not going to be much help if you’re wasted. ”
“The reasons you are wrong are threefold, Your Highness.” Leander took another sip of his coffee. “First, we were sent here not to help these people, but to make nicey-nice with each other. Second, I am not wasted now, I was wasted last night. I am more than capable of doing my job today.”
Jarryn was nodding, but his expression suggested he didn’t quite agree with the statement.
“I am! And third, drinking is a wonderful way to socialise. The people of this village were attempting to drown their sorrows last night and I was able to meet them on common ground. You’ll find that there are more ways to help someone heal than using your arcane arts.
Sometimes all someone needs is a good listener.
It just so happens that I am a very good listener,” Leander finished off his arguments primely.
“Fair enough. I retract parts of my earlier statement,” Jarryn said as he finished his flagon of ale and twisted it around in a circle on the table.
He glanced up as Verin and Lucien joined them and smiled in greeting before turning back to look at Leander.
“Did you manage to get any concrete information about the wyvern attack? Did anyone say anything pertaining to the reasons for its attack on the village?”
Leander shook his head as he shuffled his stool to the left to allow Verin to sit beside him.
“No, as the mayor’s daughter said yesterday, either there was no trigger, or the culprit responsible is dead, or they are being very tight lipped about it.
Truth be told, they didn’t linger on discussing the attack for very long. ”
Lucien, cottoning on to the topic of conversation, drummed his fingers on the table as he leaned forward and rested his head in his hand. “Leander... you don’t suppose this attack could be... divine intervention, do you?” He spoke quietly, so as not to be overheard by any neighbouring tables.
Considering Lucien’s question, Leander was silent for a good long while. He clicked his tongue against his teeth before finally saying, “I don’t quite know which of the Nine would have any positive outcome from an attack on a small village such as this one.”
But he did know. Machus wanted war, and destabilising the border village of Green Tryst, a well-established trade route between Saeren and Eslirie, was potentially a good tactic.
“It could be a lesser divinity. Maybe we should keep an eye out for any other fallen demigods seeking refuge in Cariun,” Leander joked.
None of his companions smiled.
“Without knowing the cause, none of us can promise it won’t happen again,” Verin muttered, quite plainly still ill at ease. “And we can’t leave soldiers here indefinitely, lest Nevari gets the wrong idea.”
“You raise a valid point,” Lucien agreed, his fingers still drumming out the melody of one of Leander’s favourite pieces of music.
It reminded him of something that had happened last night.
“Hey, Lucien. Last night I was down here enjoying a pint with the locals.” He refused to meet the judgement in Verin’s gaze as he spoke once again of choosing to imbibe yet again.
“And I had this weird sensation. We weren’t talking about the wyvern.
In fact, the conversation had drifted to discussion around the trade route going through this village.
One of the residents mentioned something about the lack of trade in the past few weeks, which I’m sure you’re aware of. ”
Lucien nodded as he looked at Leander intently, waiting.
“Yes, well... this man mentioned an increase of military activity instead. He was quickly hushed by the others and I wasn’t thinking straight at the time so thought nothing of it last night.
But then Verin just mentioned about leaving soldiers here and…
” he trailed off, leaving his companions to draw their own conclusions.
“Are you suggesting”—Lucien leaned in, still speaking in hushed tones—“that this village is under Desannian occupation?”
“I’m not suggesting anything. I am not as well versed in politics as the three of you. But I could sense a feeling of... I guess it was resentment, last night.”
“Okay. Thank you. I was planning on joining you to expedite our mandate here but it seems instead I must redeploy Verin to help me do a little digging. Will you two be alright at the manor alone?”
Leander glanced at Jarryn, who nodded.
“Good. Do what you can for those children. We will regroup at midday and decide what to do then. Good luck.”
Lucien stood and Verin followed suit. They had left their food untouched and Leander frowned at Verin’s hypocrisy after his older brother’s numerous and arduously lengthy lectures on proper self-care.
“Are you ready?” Jarryn broke Leander out of his thoughts and the demigod nodded. “Right, let’s go then.”
The walk up to the manor in the light of day made even more clear the devastation on the village.
To add insult to injury, Leander felt the first flakes of snow drift down from the skies to land on his cheeks.
Winter was usually mild in these parts, but without shelter, many could die from exposure.
It was an impossible situation, and there were not nearly enough of them to rebuild.
More pressingly, Leander, with eyes no longer blinded by the setting sun, could see not only the remains of the buildings, but also the remains of uncleared bodies in amongst and under the rubble.
Calling over a soldier, he ordered, “I want these corpses cleared by the middle hour. They have been lying abandoned and forgotten for almost three days. They deserve a dignified and respectful cremation.”
The soldier said, “It will be seen to, my lord,” and stalked off to update his comrades on their new orders.
“That was decent of you.” Jarryn’s tone almost sounded like praise.
Leander shrugged. “No one deserves to be forgotten and left to rot under a pile of bricks.”
They reached the manor and were this time directed to the drawing room, where more children were already wide awake. The healer told them in hushed tones that nightmares had kept most of them awake and their screams had awoken the remaining children.
Grimly, Jarryn made a suggestion. “Same drills as yesterday? You talk, I soothe?”
“Yes, please,” Leander replied quickly.
Once again, Leander reached out with Aesthesia to locate the child who was suffering the most intensely. He approached that child .
Some children didn’t need much, others took longer. They did what they needed to do and did not rush any of the children in their processing of their shock and grief.
It turned out that Leander and Jarryn worked well together.
With his mind open to the feelings of others around him, Leander didn’t feel the same level of animosity radiating off of Jarryn as there had been on the ride to Green Tryst. There was still a mistrustful sensation lingering, but there was also.
.. was that admiration? Whatever it was, it wasn’t negative.
When the midday chime resonated through the village, Leander and Jarryn were making their way back to the tavern.
After exhausting their arcane and mental reserves, the pair had nothing left to safely channel the residual negative feelings around them, so they both erected their own mental defences in an effort to limit the suffering from around them that they had to endure.
“Do you like being mortal, Leander?” Jarryn asked as they walked.
Leander pondered the question for a minute. “I didn’t. But that’s because I felt wasted as a mortal. Right now I like I have a purpose. I like that.”
Jarryn inclined his head, understanding what Leander meant better than most. “And being a demigod? What’s that like?”
“Indescribable,” was all Leander replied.
“I know you won’t tell me what you did but... what I want to know is whether or not it was worth it? Knowing what you now know, I mean, that they would strip you of your divinity?” Jarryn’s voice wavered slightly, his words hesitant as he tried to articulate his thoughts without revealing too much.
“I… ask me again in a few months?”
“Sure,” Jarryn agreed amicably. “I won’t deny that I, much like the rest of Caisa’s court, am curious about your presence here.
But I see now that I have misjudged you, at least in some respects.
” The prince cleared his throat. “No one without compassion for their fellow man could get through what we just did. So I know now what Caisa wanted to discover: you are responsive to the plight of the common man, and you bear no ill will towards us.”
“Is that an attempt at an apology?”
Jarryn glanced towards the demigod. “Yes, I suppose it is. I just mean to say that I understand now you have never done anything to justify my prejudice against you. I am sorry.”
For the first time, Leander was glad that the mental barricades protecting his mind were already slammed right up, because there was nothing he could do to stop the guilt threatening to bubble over.
It took all his self-control to brightly respond with a cheerful affirmation. “Apology accepted.” He then, spying their other travelling companions, swiftly moved the conversation on. “Look there’s Verin and Lucien. I wonder if they have discovered anything new.”
The other two men were sitting on a bench table outside the inn. They were swigging ale from pewter flagons and were deep in conversation, which stopped as Leander and Jarryn approached.
“How has your morning been?” Lucien asked softly as he straightened his back and raised a hand to his eyes to block out the sun’s rays.
“Children successfully healed,” Jarryn reported.
“And both of you are dry. No flinging each other into the river, I see. I’ll call that a win too.” Lucien grinned.
“How about you two? Did you have any luck in your efforts to find out more about the soldiers?” Leander asked quietly, even though there was no one around to overhear them.
“No, as with the wyvern attack, no one is admitting anything.” Lucien sighed and dragged his hand through his hair in evident frustration.
“I have decided to leave a small section of soldiers here, ostensibly to help with the clear up and rebuilding of the destroyed buildings, as well as for protection against further wyvern attacks. And if there are Desannian forces encroaching on our lands, we will find out in short order.”
A reasonable plan, Leander thought.
“That will only bait Nevari,” Jarryn said, a frown creasing his features. “‘Strength invites challenge’ is something our father would always say, and Nevari was father’s most attentive student.”
“What else would you have me do, Jarryn? Winter is upon us and without our help, these people will freeze.” Lucien was more than a little exasperated and Leander got the distinct impression that Verin had just been playing devil’s advocate and making the same arguments just before they had shown up.
“It is fifteen soldiers. I am only leaving fifteen soldiers behind. If Nevari views that as ‘strength’, then this will be an easy war to win.”
“I’m just saying?— ”
“I know what you’re trying to say. I understand, I really do. And your knowledge of Desanne has been unprecedented in its helpfulness, but I know your first loyalty is to a kingdom you think is yours, and my loyalty is to the kingdom that will one day be mine.”
Jarryn swallowed, an expression on his face like he had just sucked on a lemon.
“If there are mistakes to be made, let them be my mistakes,” Lucien finished. Picking up his flagon, he downed the last few dregs and slammed it down on the table. “Right, if we’re done here, I suggest we eat, restock, and get back on the road.”
More welcome words had never been spoken. Leander was not looking forward to more blisters on his backside, but he did want the comforts of his father’s opulent home as soon as was practical.
“After you, my prince.”