The Vengeful Malice, page 26
part #2 of Hungering Series
Inside the large captain's tent everyone was busy. Three cooks were working on a set of portable ovens off to one side, and a table was being neatly set in the center of the space. Lucidil sat at one side of the table, sipping from a goblet and reading over a scroll laid before him. Off to another side, beyond the table, Ferocity was tying ribbons in Kay's hair, though she stopped when we entered, looking up at Malice and me, distrust in her eyes. She squeezed Kay's shoulder once, though the girl had spotted us as well. She jumped down from Ferocity's lap and ran across the room to us. She skidded to a halt a few feet away and curtsied.
"Welcome to our home, Noble and Malice. Thank you for accepting daddy--" she stopped herself and smiled, blushing, "the king's invitation to join us for supper." She looked over to the table, at Lucidil, but he was still going over his scroll. So she looked instead to Ferocity, who nodded her head and smiled, letting the girl know she had gotten her greeting correct.
I stepped forward, summoning all of my restraint, and all that I had learned of proper manners. I bowed, sweeping my cloak about me as I did so.
"It is both our honor and our pleasure to dine with you, princess Trillia." I used the name Weaver had given her, though the word felt like a barb on my tongue.
Malice bowed as well. "We are very well met." She said, and her voice, I noted, sounded clipped, but there was an edge of happiness to it. To see Kay alive and well after so long would have to be enough for the both of us. Indeed, it was enough to bring some small happiness to an otherwise painful situation.
Kaylien beamed at the positive reactions to her greeting. "You two have pretty eyes, like mommy and daddy do. Are you part of our family?" The girl asked.
Ferocity spoke before anyone else could. "No they're--"
She was cut off by Weaver. "Yes, actually. Noble is daddy's brother, and Malice is his Lady. So they are both family. You could even call Noble, 'uncle,' and Malice, 'aunt,' if you'd like."
Ferocity, who had gotten up from where she was sitting and was standing behind Kay, did not look happy about this new development at all.
Kay was thrilled. "I've never had an aunt and uncle before! How come I've never met you? Where did you come from? What was daddy like when he was a little boy?" The girl burst into a flurry of questions, and I couldn't help but smile. She had gotten most of her looks from her mother, but she had gotten her father's curiosity.
I opened my mouth to attempt to answer her questions, but Ferocity stepped in. "Child, your aunt and uncle have just gotten in and they're tired and hungry, so why don't you go help set the table so we can all eat. I'm sure they'll be time to talk to them some more later."
Kay's smile fell. "But I don't want to set the table!" She protested.
Ferocity raised an eyebrow, and changed her posture, but didn't have to say anything.
"Alright." The purple-eyed girl said with exasperation before marching off to help with the table. My heart was so bursting with happiness at seeing her again, and interacting with my little girl, that I didn't want to risk correcting Lucidil's lies about my origins, and my relationship with Malice. Malice also seemed disinclined to break the illusion that had so excited Kaylien. To see her happy, and to know that she was excited that we were there, even if it wasn't because she remembered us, was at least something to ease a troubled heart.
Ferocity was still watching us, her eyes hard. I noticed the way she doted over Kay, and the way she looked at Malice and me with distrust. I identified her intent almost immediately. She disliked our presence because we represented a threat to her relationship with Kaylien. Ferocity hadn't merely kept my daughter and taken care of her, she'd grown to love the girl. In fact, she'd probably been a better parent to the girl than I ever had. I could have been angry at her for that, but I wasn't. I was, however, jealous of the relationship she shared with my daughter. She was jealous as well, I knew. I shared a bond of blood with Kay that she would never have, and that was what made her glare at me with those eyes hot with anger. She feared we were going to take her daughter away from her, but she was the one who had taken my daughter away from me.
The dinner was lavish and wonderful, though the conversation was stifled. Lucidil controlled the flow of dialogue, and kept Malice and me from saying much to Kaylien. I took every opportunity to speak to her that I could, reveling in how big she'd gotten, and how intelligent she was for a girl of her age. Perhaps it was just my pride as a parent that made me believe so, but I could not remember having met a child so young, with such quick wit.
"Alright Trillia, it is late. Say goodnight to our guests and return to the tent for the evening." Weaver finally said, after the meal had been mostly cleared from the table, and we had spent a good many minutes discussing the weather, and other mundane topics. We spoke nothing of the war, or the events at the castle. There was no talk of politics, and no discussion of what the next day might hold.
Kay, who had been growing more obviously tired by the minute, did not object too strongly to being told it was time for bed. She got up from the table, curtsied, and walked away from the center of the room, led by Ferocity. I watched her go, each step away like a knife in my heart, until finally she was gone through the tent flaps, and into the darkness beyond.
"She's smart and strong." Lucidil said, breaking my fixation on the exit through which my daughter had just left. "We've been training her in self-defense, and of course she is well tutored in scholarly matters as well. She is twice as strong as the other children her age, and she has shown she can learn anything she is willing to apply herself to." He smiled. "She has to be willing to apply herself, though, and that can be a problem. She has a knack for irritating her teachers to the point that they throw down their books and leave."
I wasn't sure how to respond to that. I should have felt something besides a sense of loss at that story, but all I could think of was how I'd never taught her anything. I had played no part in her upbringing, and had never gotten to experience the subtle joys of parenting. Lucidil and Ferocity, though they had abducted the girl, were providing the sort of life I had been unable to give. The time I had with her, I had wallowed in my own pool of self-pity at the loss of Kyeia.
"I've made preparations for the two of you for the night. There is a tent not far from here that is yours for the evening. I would insist that you set about your mission immediately, but I know that you have not rested well in a long time. So, for the night, you may recover yourselves. It's best to travel during the day anyway. Tomorrow, before dawn, I want you up and back at the tent in which we first met. There I will give you the rest of the information you need." Weaver said. He stood up from his place at the table.
"My servant will see you to your quarters. You'll find him waiting just outside the tent." With that, the king turned and left the room, leaving Malice and I alone with the servants who were finishing up the cleaning. We rose from our seats and departed, exiting the tent flap into the empty darkness beyond.
Tyvel stood in waiting.
I had not seen the ghost-like spy since my possessions had been taken away by the previous king, four years previous, when I had been imprisoned. To say that I was displeased to see him would have been an understatement, but strangely I felt little outward anger towards the man, or the remnant of the man, who stood before me. He met my eyes steadily, but with a look of cool defiance, as though he were expecting me to angrily yell and argue with him. He did not know that I had been aware of his betrayal for a long time, though I had believed he betrayed me to the old king, and not Lucidil. In the end, it made little difference. However, I didn't intend to disillusion him. When he realized that I wasn't going to say anything, he took it upon himself to speak.
"I did what I had to in order to protect my own life. You have no right to be angry at me for that." He said defensively.
It was Malice who replied. "You sacrificed others to prolong your own life. You cost Noble and I everyone that was dear to us, and stood by while one of those people was brutally raped and murdered because of the direct result of your actions. We have every right to be angry."
"You would have done the same thing in my place. You say that you are not afraid to die, but when your life hangs in the balance, and you are given a way to save yourself, you would do what was necessary . . ." Tyvel began, but I had heard enough.
"No, I wouldn't. Malice wouldn't. We look like monsters, but it is you, Tyvel, who have played the part of the monster in this." I said, and still I did not feel the anger towards the man that I thought should have been there.
"What they did to Wisp, I never intended. I didn't even want her to be hurt, but the stupid girl wouldn't . . ." Tyvel attempted to separate himself from the responsibility of his actions, but Malice would not let him do so.
"Watch your tongue, Tyvel. Wisp was twice the human you've ever been, and she paid terribly for your betrayal. You may never speak ill of her. You do not have the right to criticize that one. Now, what is your business here?" My green-eyed friend's voice was low and dangerous, though we both knew she could do nothing to the ghost.
"I am to escort you to your sleeping quarters." Tyvel said, his ever transparent features looking somewhat paler than normal. While ghostly, he was haunted by his own memories, I realized looking at his grim features. He might honestly regret the choices he'd made, despite his bluster. His regret, though, did nothing to blunt the damage he'd wrought.
"I'm not carrying your box." Malice snapped. "I've had enough of carrying betrayal with me."
"It won't be necessary." Tyvel replied. "My body is in this camp, and I have a much greater field of motion while near it. I can take you there without aid."
"Lead us to our tent, and then leave us in peace." I said, eager to be done with the ghost. I may have no longer felt rage towards the insubstantial wreckage of a man, but I also didn't savor his company. His presence brought back memories of a time in my life that was difficult to think of. Of course, since I'd become a Knight, and then a Broken Sword, it seemed that most of my life was composed of times that I would prefer not to remember. The death of Kyeia, the murder of Brutal, the death of Wisp and the loss of Kay, the battles of the Hungering, and the repeated betrayal by those I trusted, all of these terrible things were the lineage of my rise to being a Knight of Ethan.
Tyvel led us through the dark camp to a small tent, a little distant from the others. He stopped just outside of it, and gestured that we had arrived. I pulled back the flap and allowed Malice to enter first. I looked back to Tyvel once more.
"I think I hate you less than you hate yourself." I said, before I turned to enter the tent.
"For what it matters, I am sorry about what I've done." His voice was quiet, and there was a sadness in it I had not expected. I did not respond, because I was not even close to ready to forgive him yet. The tent flap fell closed behind me, and I was enveloped in the serene darkness of the space within. Though, as was with the eyes of a Knight of Ethan, the darkness was not complete. What little light existed was amplified, and I could easily make out the motions of Malice.
The inside of the tent was just large enough for two people to stretch out comfortably, which meant that it probably would have housed three soldiers in a less well provisioned army. For that night, though, it would house just Malice and me, and afford us at least some minor comfort in the form of blankets and a padded bedroll.
Malice, I saw, was stripping off the layers of her clothing, shedding them and dropping them to the floor at the side of tent. Even in the darkness of the inside of the tent, my eyes could make out every detail of her movement. I watched her, a blush on my face, though it was not the first time I'd seen her undress. She noticed me watching as she released the buttons on her shirt.
"I've been sleeping in my clothes for too long. Tonight, in this private place, I will be comfortable, and you should be as well." She said as she pulled open the front of her shirt exposing the bindings she wore beneath. The cloth wrappings kept her chest from becoming a burden while she fought, for she was well endowed. She released the knot with a tug, and the white cloth fell away exposing her pale, almost flawless skin to the cool air. Her breasts were large and full, seeming almost too much for her frame. On her chest, between her breasts, stretched a long and frightening looking scar, the remnant of her own acquisition of a Kaziem wolf's heart.
I had no such scar from my encounter. I had always healed more effectively than any of the other Knights. Since taking the eyes, I had not received a single scar, despite having been in multiple situations that should have left their mark. I reached for the toggle at the neck of my cloak and pulled it free. I turned my eyes away from Malice's naked body, and began to undress myself. She was right. We had one night to rest, and we couldn't be certain when the opportunity would come again. It was best to be as comfortable as possible.
Without my cloak and clothes, and with no fire to warm me, the air was surprisingly chill. Even my fur-clad arms and legs could feel the winter cold. I pulled the blankets over me, but they too were chilled as well, not yet warmed by my body. I saw Malice, entirely undressed as well, slide into the covers at my side, pulling her blankets over her, but a moment later she was pushing her way under my own as well. Her body was as soft as anything I could remember. Everywhere our skin touched beneath the blankets was hot, like velvet fire.
I put my arms around Malice and pulled her closer to me. My lips found hers, and we kissed. I tasted salt upon her lips. My ears perked forward, and I noticed that I could hear a quiet sobbing. Her body was slowly shaking against mine as she cried. I kissed her cheek, and tasted tears. It was the culmination of a terrible day, I knew. Malice had been strong all day, but there, in the privacy of the tent, she could finally have her moment, and I would not take that from her. I held her to me as she sobbed quietly into the darkness. I stroked her soft hair, and kissed her face.
Crying in my arms, she seemed the most vulnerable girl in the entire world, and not at all the two-hundred year old, battle hardened warrior who had been the weapons master of the Knights of Ethan. The Knights had made a monster of a young and vulnerable woman, and she played the part to perfection, but at her center, Malice was still a human being, and humans cried. I could have cried as well, but I did not want to burden Malice with my tears just then. It was her time, and I would be strong for her when she needed me. She was so often my strength in the hardest of times; it was the least I could return to her.
After a while, her sobbing faded, and the chill of the night seemed to vanish beneath our blankets. Time passed quietly, though I did not sleep. Malice stirred against me, and I felt one of her hands on my chest and the other on my hip.
"I want to be with you." I heard her whisper, and suddenly she pressed against me closer, her breasts a very real pressure on my skin, and her lips a soft warmness against my own. I could feel the warmth of her most sacred place pressed against my own firming desire, and suddenly I wanted Malice as I had never before wanted any woman. It was a physical and an emotional ache in my chest. I responded to her advances with my own, covering her face and neck with fiery kisses, and the searing passion of my desire.
I pushed her gently onto her back, and she spread open for me, waiting and eager. I tried to savor the moment, to caress her amazing, full breasts, and live each moment of every kiss we shared, but neither of us had the patience, or the time, for slow advances. Her hips pressed upward unto me, demanding that I enter, and I would not - could not - deny them that which I also wanted. I dove within her, and we were as tightly bound as any two could ever be.
We pressed back the shadows with our ecstasy, and for one night, at least, we found some form of peace in each other's arms. When sleep finally took us, we were both fully spent, and finally at ease.
I awoke before the sun. My movement stirred Malice, and we both rose in silence, uncurling from each other's embrace. Our clothes had been haphazardly tossed across the floor, and I found it took a short while to locate and separate our similar apparel. The morning air was cold, but once back inside our shifting cloaks, the chill vanished. I watched as the softer side of Malice, the luscious figure of gentleness and lust, vanish behind the wall of cloth armor she showed to the rest of the world, and I felt a tinge of sadness. It seemed, as she fastened her sword about her waist and her edges became insubstantial beneath her cloak, that she changed into a different person entirely.
I wondered, then, if I was the same as she was, falling into the character of a Knight when my cloak was wrapped about me, and only truly being Lowin when I shed that outer layer. Perhaps it wasn't even an intentional change on our parts, but an effect of the eerie shifting fabric we wrapped ourselves in. Either way, we had shed our comfort, and once more taken the mantle of the warrior. When we each stood ready, we opened the tent flap and walked out into the darkness of the fading night.
I felt reborn in the dimness of the dawn before the sun. The night's sleep had chased away the last of my exhaustion, and I felt truly whole again for the first time in many years. Kay was safe, and though I couldn't be the father to her that I so desperately wanted to, I at least knew that Lucidil and Ferocity had gone out of their way to take care of her, and provided her with a happy life. Malice and I were alive and well, despite all that had transpired, and before me lay a great task. I had purpose, if little else, and that was more than I'd had during my four years of imprisonment.
We reached Lucidil's command tent quickly. Ethaniel was already waiting inside, standing stoic and quiet in the dim light provided by a single lantern sitting atop the cluttered table. His two sets of eyes, the gray and the black, seemed to take in every detail of Malice and I as we entered, but each with entirely different purpose. Though there was nothing in Ethaniel's stance to suggest he was hostile, those storm gray eyes on his forehead triggered a primal feeling of fear within me. There was something terrible and dark in the old Knight's second set of eyes. The black eyes looked on with sharp intensity, but none of the rage hidden behind the other pair.
