Brute (22 page)

“Did you become a clerk?” Aric asked, trying to imagine Gray rushing around the West Tower with stacks of paper.

“N-no. I met Friddy.”

“Prince Aldfrid.”

“We were of an age. And h-he was s-so dashing! I f-fell head over heels the first time I saw him. Is he s-still handsome, Aric?”

Aric sighed. “Very.”

“We were hardly m-more than boys. We became lovers. It was v-very exciting, you know. S-secret assignations in d-dark corners, lots of sneaking here and there. I think we liked the intrigue as m-much as the romance. Until we were f-found out, of course.”

“What happened?”

“N-nothing so horrible. We were young, and p-people understood. Nobody even minded that Friddy was fucking a boy. He h-has older brothers to produce heirs. They only minded that it was me. Not me p-personally. Just… I was far beneath his station. C-can’t have the nobility screwing commoners—not openly, anyhow. Th-the gods know they do it in secret often enough.”

Feeling indignant on Gray’s behalf, Aric frowned until Gray smoothed his brow. “But you’re really smart,” Aric said. “And beautiful. And you can heal—even if it’s only a little bit, that’s more than most people. You’re special, Gray.”

Gray smiled. “Thank you. But I’m still no blue blood. I was allowed to stay, but Friddy was t-told he must never see me again. I was c-crushed. I thought I was in love.”

Someday—maybe someday soon—Aric would be separated from Gray, and then he would be crushed. He’d never dared to love anyone before, and he was pretty certain he’d never manage it again. Although he’d resigned himself to being alone long ago, perhaps even on the day his parents died, now it would hurt so badly, like an old wound freshly reopened.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“So am I. B-but not for that. Really, they were right. What future could a prince have with me? I sh-should have seen that. Soon enough I’d have found someone else. H-he wasn’t my one true love, like in a story. But I was a d-damned fool. I decided to m-make myself worthy, to prove my value.”

“What did you do?”

After a long pause, Gray answered. “I went to R-racinas.”

Although the fever was gone, Aric felt suddenly ill. He twisted out of Gray’s lap and stood, then padded into the main chamber. Alys had given him an old pot a couple months earlier, a badly dented one with the end of its handle broken off. But it was good enough for heating water. He poured some water into the pot from the jug, then set the pot on top of the coal stove. Although it wasn’t really intended for cooking, the tiles got hot enough to suffice, and within a few minutes the water was steaming. He transferred it into the teapot—chipped in several places and also a gift from Alys. Then he sprinkled in a few pinches of tea bought at a place not far from Warin’s favorite candy shop. It hadn’t been very expensive, since it was mostly local herbs rather than imported leaves, but he liked the taste and the way it warmed his belly.

As he waited for the tea to steep, he listened to the coal fire roar and the rain splatter outside. Cozy sounds when you were snug indoors.

Aric’s hand was big enough that he could carry both pottery cups at once. He brought them into the cell, where Gray smiled at him as he took his. Aric sat down, and Gray wrapped his hands around the cup, breathing in the aroma of the steam. “R-rose hips, mint, and lemon b-balm? Should have drunk this when y-you were becoming ill. You m-might not have needed me.”

I need you.
But Aric said instead, “You healed me just fine.”

They sat in silence, sipping at their tea until Gray’s story resumed.

“I w-went to the Vale of the Gods,” he said at last. “I knew there w-would be a price, so I brought every c-coin I owned. F-f-fool. What use have the gods for coppers?”

“What did you ask for?”

“P-power. Give me magic, I said. Not this paltry healing gift. M-magic the crown can use.” He laughed humorlessly. “The gods g-gave me what I asked for. I could feel it in me. Still can. It’s l-like… like holding a hot coal in your hand. B-but it’s in here.” He tapped his head.

Aric tried to imagine that and couldn’t. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes. No. It’s a g-good pain, like when you enter my b-body.”

It was silly for Aric to blush about something like that, but he did. And somehow Gray could tell, because he chuckled and stroked Aric’s face. “Such a sweet g-giant,” he said, which only made Aric’s cheeks burn hotter. But at least he understood what Gray meant, because sometimes Gray entered him. And while Gray wasn’t as big as Aric and always took care to prepare him well, there was always a little bit of burning at first, an odd sort of feeling of being stretched and filled. Not that Aric minded. In fact, sometimes he and Gray got into good-natured arguments as to whose turn it was to bottom—a dispute that neither of them really lost, no matter how it turned out.

“I was pleased with the f-feeling. Less so when I l-learned I c-could hardly speak. Fucking stutter. Couldn’t write anymore either. But I th-thought it was a fair enough price.” Gray stopped and frowned. “Why has my stutter nearly g-gone of late?”

“Maybe you’ve paid enough,” Aric said.

Gray shook his head. “I didn’t realize wh-what I could do for several days. I w-was staying at an inn near Racinas, and I dreamt that another g-guest died from apoplexy. The next day, he d-did. It was… horrible. I was devastated, but too naïve to know it was only the first of many. I h-had more dreams on the journey home. A s-sailor caught in a rope and d-dragged overboard. Another dying from an infected w-wound. I was a wreck by the time I returned to Tellomer. B-but, I thought, at least I c-can have Friddy.”

Aric pressed up against his shoulder. “What happened?”

“I sh-showed them my gift. Not Friddy—I wasn’t allowed to see him. Lord Maudit and h-his cronies. And they were fucking thankful f-for my dreams. Offered m-me a good salary, fancy apartments in the p-palace, everything I wanted. Except Friddy. I still wasn’t g-good enough for him.”

“That’s not right!” Aric said indignantly. “You were good enough for him to begin with, and then after you’d gone to such lengths to be….”

“Useful. I w-was useful but not noble. I should have known b-better, but I told you, I was a fool.” Gray ran his palm over his hair, smoothing it back, and then gently banged his head against the wall three times. “I was heartbroken, and the d-dreams, they got less bearable every n-night. M-my only consolation was that maybe I was helping people. Saving a f-few lives. I even saved P-prince Cadell’s son once, from a f-fall from a horse. And j-just a few nights later, I dreamed of another child. An infant, d-daughter of a beggar. She would die because h-her mother hadn’t enough milk and c-couldn’t afford a wet nurse.”

Aric felt ill again. He knew where this tale was heading. “Gods, Gray.”

“G-gods didn’t help her either. L-like you and Itan, I found her too late. D-damned hard to search when I could barely speak.”

Aric squeezed his arm, but Gray wrenched himself free and sprang to his feet. He paced the few strides his chains permitted him, reminding Aric of a caged bear he’d seen when he was a boy. The bear’s claws and teeth had been pulled, and it walked back and forth, back and forth, roaring its anger and despair.

“I was fucking f-furious. I fled from the palace to the city. I stayed first with my parents, but I couldn’t bear the sorrow in their eyes, so then I s-simply hid. I h-had silver and gold, and I m-moved from one inn to another. T-told nobody of my dreams.” Gray’s breaths were coming fast and heavy, as if he were still fleeing. It must have been hell for him to be alone like that, Aric thought, unable to communicate and with nobody to soothe him.

Gray abruptly stopped his frantic movements and collapsed onto his knees on the blankets. “I dreamed Queen Lentia’s death.”

Aric couldn’t help but gasp. He remembered when the queen had died. Aric’s great-uncle had died a year or two earlier, and Aric was still nowhere near his full size. A dozen years ago, perhaps. The queen had been walking in the palace gardens and was stung by a wasp—normally an event of little import, but her face had swelled and she had collapsed, unable to breathe. She was dead within minutes. The entire kingdom was in mourning for months, and it was rumored that the king never truly recovered from the loss. And now it occurred to Aric that she was not only the queen, but also Prince Aldfrid’s mother. The mother of the man Gray loved.

“It was s-spite,” Gray said quietly. “Nothing but petty v-vengeance. I said nothing, and f-four days later she was gone. I could… I could have lived with m-myself after that, I think. Convinced myself that her d-death was a price the crown owed. B-but vengeance is empty if your victim is unaware. I r-returned to the palace and told Lord Maudit. D-don’t know what I expected them to d-do to me. Hang m-me, perhaps.”

“Did you want to be hung?” Aric asked in a small voice.

“M-maybe. The dreams…. But they d-didn’t show me that mercy.” He rattled the chains that connected to his wrists. “They put me here, so I c-could continue to dream for them. I saw Friddy f-for one moment, just before they dragged me into this building. I thought he’d b-be enraged at me, b-but he only looked betrayed.”

Gray sank to the floor and folded his legs in front of him. One palm covered his useless eyes, as if he were still trying to block out the sight of his former lover’s face. Aric didn’t touch him, didn’t say anything, didn’t even move. Outside, the wind gusted, making the rain rattle against the wall. Aric closed his eyes and ran a finger around the rim of his empty cup. It wasn’t quite smooth; there was a small bump in one spot, and he rubbed and rubbed at it until the cup cracked under the pressure. The length of his finger was sliced open on the shard, but he didn’t cry out. Instead, he put the finger in his mouth and sucked at the coppery taste until the bleeding stopped. Gray could probably heal it, he thought. But Aric didn’t say anything.

When the minutes dragged by and Gray remained silent and unmoving, Aric scooped up the pottery shards and Gray’s undamaged cup. He walked back to the main chamber, where he tossed the broken pieces into his chamber pot and set Gray’s cup on the table. Then he put the teapot on top of the stove for a few moments, just enough to reheat the tea. He refilled Gray’s cup, returned to the cell, and pushed the cup into Gray’s hand. Gray took it silently but dipped his face and inhaled the steam. “D-do you hate me now?” he said after a brief pause. “Now that you kn-know.”

“No,” Aric replied, because a simple answer seemed best. A simple answer from a simple man.

Gray exhaled shakily and sipped at his tea.

“I guess I understand why they’ve treated you so badly,” Aric said after a while. “I don’t think you deserved it, but I can see why they’d lock you up, why they’d… keep you like this. It’s horrible, and you should have been forgiven long ago. You were young and they’d hurt you. But why did they take your eyes as well?”

“They didn’t.”

Only two words, but they sent a chill through Aric’s heart that was far worse than the cold he’d felt the night before. “Oh no,” he whispered. “What did you do?”

“I thought… if I’m b-blind I can’t have the Sight anymore. You see how w-well that worked.” He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Aric couldn’t bear it anymore. He crouched in front of Gray and gathered him in his arms, heedless of the warm tea that spilled between them. Gray was stiff at first, but only for a moment, and then he sighed and returned the embrace, tucking his face into the crook of Aric’s neck. “I’m a f-fool,” he said.

Not as much as me
, Aric thought, because he was already formulating a plan.

A
RIC
may have been stupid, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. He decided that he wouldn’t say a word to Gray until it was too late. He’d never before had a secret—except his love for Gray—or anyone to keep a secret from. It felt a bit strange, like having a bird trapped in his chest and trying to get out.

Or maybe his new secret was more like a seed, planted inside himself and slowly growing. Now it was only a tender shoot, but as he coaxed it and fed it, it would get a bit bigger every day, sending tendrils upward and outward. He hoped someday soon it would flower and bear fruit.

Stop
, he told himself sternly, deciding he made a much better mule than a poet.

“Do you find the Yganfrian War amusing, Brute?”

Aric snapped back to the here and now. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Master Sighard cracked his stick on the floor, clearly wishing he could crack it over Aric’s skull instead. “Why don’t you explain the factors that led to the war,” said the schoolmaster as the children snickered.

“Um… there was a famine, and the barons were delinquent in collecting taxes, so the king—”

“
Which
king?”

Aric wracked his brain. “Uh… Bolbec?”

“Bolbec the Third, you mean.”

“Right. King Bolbec the Third was trying to increase his naval forces because he was fearing an invasion from… the south. But he didn’t have the funds without the taxes, and—”

“Yes, yes, yes. That bit is obvious. What were the names of the barons who sided with the king?”