Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
I t had been two days, he estimated, since Leander had been visited by Machus… and he honestly wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had first been incarcerated by the king. Five days? Six? It didn’t really matter.
There was nothing to do to pass the time, save watch the ball of fire Machus left behind bob up and down in the nothingness. He couldn’t even watch the sun to mark the passage of time. All he had were walls and a door with a small, barred window which looked out into a darkened corridor.
And, of course, that gave Leander ample time to marinate over the words of Machus, God of fucking Deception.
He had recovered, mostly, from the god’s violent entry into his mind.
He felt better put together at least. But he had not the slightest inclination of how to process the knowledge that Machus had been using him for his own nefarious purposes .
Leander was pulled out of his silent reverie by the sound of footsteps heading along the corridor towards his cell. The demigod knew he was the only occupant of the cells in this corridor because no sound came out of the others and the prison guards did not linger anywhere in the corridor.
Whoever was approaching was coming for him but, from a quick calculation, it didn’t feel like it had been long enough for a slave to be returning with his next meal. If anything, it was like they were trying to starve him, given how infrequently he was fed.
Sitting on the filthy floor with his knees dragged up to his chest, Leander did not move as a tall and imposing man appeared on the other side the bars and came to a stop in front of them.
“Hello, Father.” Leander’s voice was scratchy from lack of use and he coughed, trying to clear it, before speaking again. “Good to see you.”
“Would that I could express the same sentiment.” Flavian Talius’ clipped tone never failed to penetrate through to the bone, and Leander fought the urge to wince at his father’s vitriolic expression as he stared down at what Leander knew was his biggest disappointment.
Unlike when faced against Machus, Leander was not overcome with the urge to hold his tongue for fear of the repercussions.
“Well no one is forcing you to visit. You could have wiped your hands of me without the need to come and gloat about it to my face.”
Flavian gazed down at his son. “I did not come here to gloat. I didn’t even come here to, ah, wipe my hands of you, as you so delicately put it.”
Leander laughed and dipped his head, bringing his hands up to scrape his fingers through his knotted hair once more. Like the rest of him, it felt disgusting. He was in desperate need of a bath. “Really? Then why have you come?”
“As a high ranking member of the ruling caste, and a son of our patron goddess no less, the pleasure of informing you of the outcome of your trial?—”
“—Trial?” Leander said sharply. “I wasn’t brought to trial!”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?
” Flavian glared down at his son, waiting for a quick-witted response.
When none came, he continued. “You are the God of Lies, Leander. You have no business being present in a mortal trial. Divine powers or no, your word cannot be trusted. The trial took place yesterday with the relevant witnesses giving their testimony. I am here to inform you of the sentence ordered by the King’s Justice. ”
Leander was unable to move his mind away from the utter injustice of what he was hearing. “You held… a trial… Father you can’t be serious!”
“What else did you expect? I have given you the justification for your absence. There will be no appeal. Your mother was even present and has given no objections to the decision.” Flavian, mercifully, fell silent and watched as Leander’s mouth opened and closed like a fish as he tried to formulate his racing thoughts into a coherent verbal response .
“So the circumstances of my supposed crime don’t matter? I did nothing wrong!”
“You used Aesthesia with intent to perform reconnaissance against one of the king’s most trusted advisors, with the intention of learning the gods only know what, to use in ways I’m sure we cannot even fathom.
It doesn’t surprise me that you would squander my generous stipend on gambling and whores, but I am astounded that you were senseless enough to use an illegal tactic in some ridiculous attempt to uncover some semblance of a lie when you yourself know your Aesthesic abilities are subpar at best.” Flavian’s voice was nothing more than a sharp hiss, the sibilance of his words emphasised in his anger.
“I didn’t do it for fun!” Leander exclaimed. “You need to understand, Lord Wester Haldon and his associates, whoever they are, they?—”
“Stop, Leander. Whatever you think you’ve discovered, do you think you are so great as to uncover some great mystery in the grandstand of that infernal racetrack, no doubt intoxicated and completely without wit or forethought?
As if you are unique in your investigative abilities that the integrity of the city would rest in your hands? ”
“I—what?”
“Venser has been after this man for months. And he is certainly better at Aesthesia than you could ever hope to be. The black-market dealings were not unknown to us, and you would have known that if you spent any reasonable amount of time being the son you were supposed to be when you were dropped on my doorstep. ”
Flavian said nothing for a moment, allowing Leander the chance to process the fact that he was not, in fact, the centre of the universe.
“This was supposed to be a clean slate after your fall from grace. The whole point of your punishment from the divine court was to teach you some humility and circumspection. You clearly have learnt nothing. You have wasted every opportunity presented to you and nothing I nor your brothers could do would set you on the right path.”
Leander could do little more than nod. He agreed.
He had even started this war; he had inadvertently given Haldon the means to create a very lucrative under-the-table deal with Desanne to sell his arms and ammunition.
If this war came to fruition, as so many people feared, Leander had a direct hand in it, and he had even made matters worse. He saw this now.
“Indentured servitude, Leander. That is the punishment decreed.”
The demigod had seen his father in his work enough now to recognise the strategy: he would share the most explosive information without warning to limit his target’s recovery and rebuttal.
And it worked. “Slavery.” His skin temperature dropped a few degrees.
“Yes,” Flavian responded with a smile. No, it was a smirk. It was the same expression he used when he was talking to the public or spreading his political agenda among the unwitting aristocracy. Leander wasn’t fooled into the notion that his father genuinely cared about his wellbeing.
“And my mother agreed to this?”
“You forget that, when I agreed to take you in, your mother informed me of the circumstances that led to your fall from grace,” Flavian replied, his expression now retuned to impenetrable.
“You have started the cogs turning which will lead two otherwise peaceful nations to war. And now, as a mortal, you have seemingly spent every moment that you weren’t drunk or high or bedding some whore in furthering your goal to bring that war closer to my door.
I’ve thought about it a great deal, Leander, and I have concluded that you don’t need a reason. You thrive when surrounded by chaos.”
Locking eyes with his father, Leander knew that telling the truth of Machus’ influence, or his visit the other day, would fall on deaf ears.
“Perhaps you are right. You are the last person I would confide in, though, so you’ll never know.
” Leander swallowed his doubts and misgiving, doubling down on what he knew to be fact: that everyone would always assume the worst of him.
He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the stone wall.
Flavian continued. “You may be divine, but you are young, with a mind utterly impenetrable to common sense. You’re so sure of everything, with cast iron convictions and an absolute dearth of conscience.
You go through your existence without any thought for the consequences of what you do.
Even your omission to act is dangerous. Were you not who you are, I would be more lenient with you.
But dangerous times engender dangerous mistakes.
We simply do not have the luxury of allowing you to play with lives of the innocent people in this kingdom. ”
Leander’s eyes suddenly opened. “So the will of the King’s Justice is to have me out of the way? Silenced? And under the watchful eye of… who? Not you, surely? Not a slave in my own home.”
“Of course not.” Flavian waved a hand at the foolish notion. “You are to be put up for auction. At a high enough starting bid to act as a deterrent for all except those who have the means and power to control you.”
“Fine.” Leander lifted his chin, because he was nothing if not stubborn, and he wouldn’t allow his father to see the fear he felt growing in his stomach.
He exhaled, giving himself a few extra seconds to steady his nerves.
The sensation of anxiety was new to him and, as a result, he struggled to name it for few moments.
His hands felt sweaty, and he resisted the urge to wipe them on his trousers.
All the while, he was very aware of his father’s piercing gaze on him. He had to say something. Finally, he settled on asking: “When?”
“Two days hence. You will be brought to the palace. A closed auction. Few invitees.”
Leander nodded. It seemed like he was doing a lot of that in recent days.
His father still stood there.
“Are you finished, or is there more you wanted to say?”
“Yes, but I’m concerned that any more will put an unnecessary strain on your already fragile mental state.”
“Oh, I had no idea you cared so much,” Leander bit out impishly.
Flavian didn’t reply, so Leander took that as a sign that he had won for now.
His stomach was still churning and he was developing a headache.
He just wanted to go to sleep. But he wouldn’t give his father the satisfaction of seeing him even weaker than the pathetic creature he must have appeared to be.
“Where is Verin?” Lender didn’t ask after Venser. His other brother had never warmed to him and had no doubt accepted the accusations laid on Leander’s head without a second thought. Verin, however…
“He… wanted to come, to see you. I have forbidden it.”
“Why? I didn’t think that?—”
“You don’t understand, do you? It doesn’t matter what you think.”
Biting his tongue again, Leander examined his fingernails and began to pick out the dirt that resided under them.
“I’m not interested in giving you the chance to lie to me, or to my sons. Verin appears to like you, maybe not respect you, but he listens and might be influenced.”
“I have never lied to you, or to my brothers.” Leander finally shifted from his position on the floor and heaved himself up to stand.
He approached the bars of his cell, ignoring the flashing spots in the periphery of his vision which told him that he had not eaten or drunk enough to maintain a steady balance on his feet.
“Oh, spare me, boy.”
“You’re barely in my company for long enough for me to say good morning, let alone any utterance containing anything of significance.
” Leander was bitter. Bitter for having an absent father.
Bitter for his mother barely acknowledging him.
Most of all he was bitter for being misjudged at every opportunity by people who barely knew him.
Only Machus …
No, Machus was not his friend.
“If you’re quite finished, I do not want to spend my last days of freedom in your company.”
He turned away from the door and made his way over to the straw-filled bed.
Expecting Flavian to have the final word, he was determined to ignore the man. But Flavian said nothing and, by the time Leander had rested his head on the straw bed, the footsteps of his father had receded to a quiet, faraway echo.