Canes and Scales Page 7

  I finished chatting about military history with Duke Ansantor. “Time to claim our seats.”

  “I believe you already claimed yours, Prince, but why don’t you take my seat at that front table?”

  “No need, David, but thank you all the same.”

  The Duke glanced beyond my shoulder. A smile appeared. “So I see.”

  “Indeed.” We parted with knowing smiles. I knew the tolerant Duke understood my placement. I settled into my seat. Colm stood behind me looking suitably threatening. Keith walked up and frowned at me. “Why are you hiding back here?”

  “I own my reasons.”

  His smile turned sharp. “Letting your intrigue pull rank on others?”

  “In truth his rank exceeds anyone except a Duke’s.”

  “Ah yes, the old grandson of a Duke tale. There’s no proof of the fact.”

  “Keith, please, one look at those glorious canes proves his true royalty. I know most nobles see canes and think slave, but Alasdaire’s canes tell the truth. The royal color and pattern cannot be denied.”

  “Thank you for the invigorating lesson in Elven canes. I must warn you my agreement with Leo is not to allow Alasdaire to occupy the same room as him.”

  Tainted amusement soured my smile. “Trust me, Alasdaire does not want to be in the same room as his Father, but I coaxed him into watching the performance. Jenkins will deliver him and whisk him away at the end. You see, I gave the matter consideration and planned the moves. The fault is all mine.”

  “So be it. You are the Prince hence you own more toys than I do. Enjoy your fun.” Keith bowed and walked to his front table.

  The toy remark stung. Indeed, I was a prince, hence I was allowed to occasionally pull rank. At least I didn’t order anyone beheaded, correct? As I reached for the wine bottle a page bowed and poured the liquid. There, see, that was the type of behavior I despised. I smiled thanks and sipped. Sometimes I swore my mother seduced a guard so she could enjoy simple compassion and conceive a child not completely tainted by the family madness. She certainly never received compassion from my brooding, harsh Father. Now I could not ask her since trying to love Father drained her to an early death.

  The servants deactivated the crystals and left the candelabras alight. The effect looked wonderful. Jenkins appeared. Alasdaire slid into the seat. His fingers tapped my knee. Alarm tainted his voice. “This is not what you promised me. I feel so exposed.”

  I glanced at his tense expression. “My beauty, I merely changed the plan. Someone else is across the room, so do not worry.”

  His gaze followed my gesture. He stiffened, hissed, then relaxed. His fingers settled on my knee and gently massaged. Despite his anxiety Alasdaire leaned forward in alert examination. “How do all those gears and wires understand creating music?”

  “Listen and feel amazed.”

  The mechanical quintet soared through familiar tunes and standards. The rotating gears twinkled in the candle glow. What a task to keep them oiled and polished! Alasdaire sat transfixed, watching in astonishment. Low noises of delight escaped his lips. After each tune he restrained his clapping to a few low beats, but I sensed his great enthusiasm for the novel spectacle. His pleasure made me smile.

  A love ballad faded away and, before the audience applauded, familiar notes drifted free in the air. Blast, not the national anthem! The nobles rose to their feet in a rustling mass and politely sang the blustery old tune. Yes, politely, not with any dedication. Off with their heads, eh? I didn’t blame them for sounding less than thrilled. I sat in pained suffering. A fixed smile stretched my lips. Rustling to my left told me of Alasdaire’s swift departure. Bless Jenkins. He knew at the tune’s end I would be required to wave and accept the applause befitting this mighty Prince of the Realm.

  Wine soothed my irritation.

  I stood, waved, and smiled as enthusiastic applause surrounded me. Stop. But at least the applause lauded me, not Edward. Refreshing to feel the noble support.

  The nobles erupted into the typical bright chatter and laughter. Since lately I had been acting so anti-social in the evening, I joined in the banter. My, Lord Evaning’s dramatic discourse on converting his crumbling old family manor to steam heat provided hilarious distraction. We laughed in sympathy.

  My protective shadow hovered in his classic unobtrusive manner. I despised looking fearful, but Keith’s words bolstered my defensive alert.

  A heavy hand gripping my right shoulder startled me.

  I glanced to my side and arched a reprimanding brow. Leo’s bloodshot eyes told me someone had overindulged in wine. For a noble to accost me from behind was unpardonable. Even one who once knew me in a most intimate manner did not hold the right to molest my person. Jenkins stepped closer.

  Lord Evaning fell silent. Leo’s voice maintained coherency. “Pardon me for interrupting your story, Christos, but I need to speak to the Prince.”

  Young Lord Evaning smiled in polite confusion, inclined his head and murmured his assent. As I turned from the gathering, I sharply shrugged Leo’s hand from my shoulder. My exasperation spiced my tone. “You own brass balls, Leo, but I see you no longer own manners.”

  A gust of sour wine-scented breath disgusted my senses. Leo lifted his finger and came close to assaulting my chest. He realized his folly and drew back. “Don’t play words games with me, Linden. Why was that thing at your table?”

  “You are drunk, Leo. I don’t need this nonsense.”

  My old lover’s thin lips worked in silent fury until he surprised me by laughing. “Yes indeed, I am drunk. It’s something I excel at, becoming numb to the world. All right, my fair Prince, forgive me for my callous actions. Please do not behead me.”

  “You confuse me with my brother.”

  “Ah. Lucky for me, eh?” Leo grabbed a bottle from a nearby table and steered me into the ballroom’s quieter back edge. Each hobbled, lurching step reminded me of Alasdaire’s rash act. If someone had crippled me, kind feelings would evaporate in agony’s embrace. My protective Jenkins hovered but I shook my head. “Yes, I am drunk and likely to become drunker. Cheers, Prince.” He gulped wine and glowered at me. “Let me ask in a more polite manner: why did Alasdaire sit at your table?”

  My limited patience vanished. “Why do you care?”

  Leo’s ruddy face turned burgundy in renewed fury. He looked like a wrinkled beet primed to explode in a messy spectacle. His breath whistled free. “Listen well, Prince. Keith swore to keep that murdering thing away from me. Seeing that whelp smiling and acting like he owns the right to feel happy sickens me. Knowing that he is my only son also sickens me.” His bulk invaded my royal space until his nose loomed close. I stood firm. “Did you know that ugly detail? I enjoy my healthy third wife yet no male heirs emerge from her womb. I have produced a flock of daughters, yes, glorious girls to adore and spoil, but no other male heir arrives. The doctors think my leg wound caused peculiar internal injury to me. How ironic, eh? Alasdaire’s stunt not only ruined my leg but it ruined me. The half-breed wretch cursed me. Stealing his damaged mother certainly cursed me.” More wine finished his hateful words.

  I stood in stunned silence until my voice reemerged from dim rage. “Your words do not explain why you placed a Catch on a young boy.”

  “Young boy? Ha, more like a malicious murderer.”

  “He felt you allowed his mother to die. Do you deny you abandoned her?”

  “I saved myself from her. Anadona was an Elven witch. She spelled me to love her and then she became pregnant, although I used strict precaution. The witch presented me a caned freak as my son. I only allowed Anadona to remain at the estate since I admit I cherished her magnificence. Her grace dwelled beyond beautiful until she descended into madness. Alasdaire looks so much like her, only Anadona did not bear the wicked canes.”

  “You know royal males are more strongly marked than the females!”

  “But Alasdaire is half mine so I thought… I prayed he might look human. If the lad looked huma
n, I would have cared for him. I would have loved Alasdaire as a proper son. I cannot love a throwback freak who reminds me of my tragic mistake.”

  Each word struck my heart in sharp damage. I shook my head. “Leo, I want to forget we ever conducted this disturbing conversation. Listening to you disgusts me. While I am here, Alasdaire is under my protection. What you did to him is shameful. Good night.”

  To my surprise Leo frantically grasped my right wrist. Words panted into my face. “Protection? What do you mean protection? Do you feel drawn toward that thing?”

  I yanked my wrist free from his sweaty grasp. The fury boiling in my veins shook me in fanged cruelty. “Alasdaire is not a thing, Leo. If I ever hear you say such again within my hearing, I will take action. Now good night and indeed, feel glad I am not my brother or your head would decorate the floor.”

  “So he is truly his mother’s son. If Alasdaire infects you the same way Anadona infected me then you are lost, Linden, lost.” Leo’s florid face tightened in stress. His voice cracked. “Lost. Utterly lost. Once you taste their glory, nothing else is the same. Their alien infection is toxic.”

  Leo’s low words made me pause. I needed to walk away from him. I needed to ignore his hatred.

  Yet I needed to ask. “What do you mean?”

  Leo’s head shook in drunken challenge. “Mighty Prince, since you bed the pretty thing, I do not need to tell you what I mean. When you wake up after sharing their power, you feel recreated. They cleanse your soul, energize your flesh. Once Anadona birthed the… Alasdaire, her power vanished. Anadona’s ability to make me feel like power from the heavens animated my body passed to her caned spawn. And that is why I put the Catch on the creature so he cannot infect another human, yet it appears his unnatural Elven power waxes strong enough to seduce a mighty Prince. Ha, in a twisted manner I should feel proud of my offspring. He rules a Prince.”

  A remote part of my royal mind urged me to kill this sad, drunken man who understood too much about my vulnerable Alasdaire. No, let Leo live and endure his ugly misery. Let him boil in turmoil.

  Let him suffer.

  Let him know I now felt the ecstasy he so needed.

  I turned and walked toward the grand staircase. Above me the ancient clock gears meshed together. I hoped one of them slipped and found a new home in Leo’s tormented head.

  Please let it happen.

  I hated my hatred.

  My guards bowed in respect. I drifted into my suite. Cool moonlight flooded my suite’s tall windows. The blue glow illuminated a shadowy shape facing toward the South. A musical voice captivated me. “Linden, come look at the moon-kissed land. The mountains appear coated in dull silver. They look magical.”

  I crossed the room and reached for eldritch solace. Alasdaire’s skin felt so soothing to the touch, felt blessed, felt like running my fingers through sweet well water. Despite my resolve, Leo’s ugly words tainted the moment.

  Fingers slid up and traced my lips. “Linden? Please, my love, what is wrong?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I feel your distress.”

  “Why do you feel my distress?” Wait, sounding harsh solved nothing.

  Alasdaire’s voice sounded sadly broken. Dead leaves and ash fluttered against my hearing. “Because I love you above my own life, Linden. I care for you more than you can imagine, so I wish to know why you feel disheartened. Please let me heal you.”

  The sweet words stunned yet relieved me. I knew how Alasdaire felt toward me since my own emotions walked the same dangerous path. This Prince decided to speak the truth. “I did not want to upset you but since you ask me I shall not lie. After you left, your Father accosted me to rant against you. His hatred sickened me. He can’t accept you merely because you look like an Elf. What blind bigotry! He supposedly loved your Mother, who was a full-blooded Elf, yet he can’t bring himself to love his own son? It appalled me since I thought the Leo I knew and once admired as a man dwelled above narrow-minded hatred. He has wronged you in so many ways he is lucky to still draw breath.”

  Alasdaire gasped in alarm. My fingers caressed his hair. The silken softness helped defeat the lingering fury twisted around my heart. “The violence that captured my soul frightened me. I pride myself on acting more rationally than most in my ancient family, but in that unreasonable second I almost snapped his brutish neck.”

  “Please, Linden, banish him from your thoughts. I hate how you feel discontented due to me. Let me help you.” Cool fingers stroked my cheeks. Their touch trailed healing into my skin. “Forgive me for failing you tonight. I never want to bring you pain.”

  “Nonsense. You did not hurt me. Instead I feel unhappy because a man I thought I cared for openly hates someone I know I love in a passionate manner.” There, I released the truth. My arms pulled Alasdaire into a strong embrace. His spine’s prominent indent guided my fingers up and down his bare flesh. “Now let’s show each other love’s power, eh? Let’s create our true world again.”

  “I hear and obey, my dear Prince.” Alasdaire’s demanding kiss promised me sleep would wait.

  As we kissed, his fingers attacked my shirt buttons. My Elf loved to undress me. I relaxed on the bed and let him unfasten my boot’s elaborate buttons. My trousers slid from my legs. My heart vowed never to let Alasdaire know his Father’s true reason for using the Catch. Alasdaire’s mother never told him exactly how to use his powers, but my confined lover understood enough. Yes, Alasdaire understood enough to show me delights and power.

  What delights could Alasdaire show me if the Catch no longer threatened his precious life?

  Conversely, could the freed Alasdaire’s magical power kill me? I scolded myself. Unfair to think such nonsense about this gentle creature. Love and trust united us in an eternal fashion.

  His hands finished their mundane tasks. We twined together in familiar bliss, scales to canes, lips to flesh. His hair tangled in my eyelashes.

  I accepted, banished my thoughts and succumbed to my Elf’s thrilling power. Imagine a Prince enslaved by a half-breed slave.

  Fitting.

  Alasdaire

  Separation

  Insistent knocking jerked us away from slumber. Linden stood by the bed pulling his robe around his body before I comprehended he had moved from my lazy embrace. His eerie swiftness reminded me of his family’s legendary serpent blood. I shivered. “Linden?”

  “Something serious has happened.” Linden left the bedroom before I asked him how he knew the problem. Why did the Prince need to be involved in anything at such a dismal hour? Wait, did something happen to his brother?

  Anxiety ruled my nerves. I sat up and leaned forward. Linden’s voice snapped in pointed annoyance but the word exchange eluded my hearing. What happened? The crystal-lit clock showed two in the morning. Madness. We fell into sleep just before midnight, sated from our sweet adoration. I slid from the bed and activated the crystals into full glow. Their graceful light flooded the bedchamber. Shadows scuttled into the corners where they lurked to torment me. I returned to the bed, pulled our sleep-warm sheets around my body and awaited Linden’s return.

  “I must leave now.” Linden’s curt words emerged before he fully occupied the room.

  My fear-compressed lungs permitted one small word. “Why?”

  One hand sliced through the air in agitated fury. In my mind I sensed Linden struck at his enemies. “A terrible explosion destroyed Acula’s primary steam plant. The incident points to a terrorist plot, so I must investigate the scene.” Undergarb covered his flesh.

  I uttered the same simple word. “Why?”

  His voice sharpened in frustration. “Why? I need to guarantee the situation is handled in an efficient manner. My arrival ensures diligence and determination in finding the truth. Corrupt investigators find it all too convenient to blame an incompetent accident on another country’s terrorist activity. In fact, my brother urges government investigators to falsify reports so he can condone senseless wars. I vow to halt t
he act.” In his haste Linden pulled on ill-matching clothing. A green and blue checked vest topped a red shirt. At least the black jacket looked sane. The striped trousers threw off his regal demeanor. Pointing out his fashion calamity felt stupid but safe. Make him redress.

  Make him stay a little longer.

  Why bother? My heart ached in amazement. My body felt tormented. Why did this dismal event happen now? Separation from my secret beloved felt like death. Please no. Please let him stay.

  Linden sank to the bed. Those strong, loving hands yanked black socks over his ankles. The simple act pained me. Those hands needed to hold me, not dress my lover for grim departure.