Cross Purposes (Chronicles of Ylandre, Book 5) (37 page)

“Are they…?” Tristen gestured toward Ranael.

“At this moment?” Keosqe shook his head. “They
were
quite close for a long while though I don’t know if it was an exclusive liaison or not. But then there appeared to be a falling-out of sorts and they didn’t keep company as much as they used to. Beyond that, it’s all speculation. Ranael has been quite reticent of late regarding his private affairs. Even more so than I was.”

Tristen frowned. He’d learned since how tight-lipped Keosqe had been in the wake of their separation. It was hard to imagine anyone being even less forthcoming or the reason for it.

He sighed and rubbed one shoulder. Saints, but he felt so drained. Keosqe pulled him close so that he could lean against him.

“Tired?”

“Very.”

“Do you regret coming here?”

“Nay.” Tristen indicated the activity around him. “I feel more confident than ever that this is my calling.” He snuggled against Keosqe, relishing the security of his lover’s embrace. “So no regrets. Well, except for the propositions I’ve received here and there.” He chuckled. “Soldiers will be soldiers even in the midst of being sewn up.”

He nearly laughed out loud when Keosqe scowled. “I suppose so,” the noble reluctantly agreed. “Best you don’t tell me their names. Not if you want your patients to survive this campaign.”

Tristen did guffaw then. But he quickly preempted any retort from Keosqe by sealing their mouths together in a brief but heated kiss. Keosqe grinned afterward and said, “You certainly know how to shut me up,
ariad
. What else have you learned from me, I wonder?”

“Nothing that can be carried out in public,” Tristen said with a snort.

Keosqe rubbed noses with him until he laughingly protested.

“I must ride out again,” Keosqe murmured. “But fear not, I should be back by nightfall. We’ve driven the separatists out of Faleis.” He smiled when Tristen let out a small cheer. “It appears Vaeren was hurt during the rebels’ last sortie out of the town. They were quite desperate by then, hurling themselves at our forces helter-skelter.”

“Still, one of their lances found its mark,” Tristen said, glancing at Vaeren’s supine form.

“Sheer luck or misfortune as the case may be.” Keosqe shook his head. “Ranael commanded the vanguard of our forces and Vaeren was appointed his second. They took the brunt of the rebels’ last charge.” He tilted his head in his cousin’s direction. “Vaeren was wounded while protecting him. I’m not surprised. It’s the way of shield mates.”

Tristen stared at him. “But you said they’d had a falling-out.”

“That doesn’t mean they’ve stopped having feelings for each other. I didn’t stop loving you all the time we were apart.” He tapped Tristen’s nose with a finger. “Did you?”

“Of course not!” Tristen turned his face and pressed it into Keosqe’s neck. He breathed deeply, relishing the noble’s distinctive scent. “It was then I realized just how much I
did
love you.”

“There you go. Estrangement can drive people further apart or make them recognize what had drawn them together in the first place. I dare say that may be the case with Ranael at least, going by his reactions.”

A young Deir in military garb entered the tent and looked around until he saw Keosqe. Tristen recognized his squire. The youth came to them and said, “We’re ready, my lord.”

Keosqe sighed and he and Tristen stood up. “I must go,” he told Tristen. “Try to get some rest.”

“Rest will have to wait,” Tristen said when he walked outside with Keosqe and espied another party as it entered the compound with more wounded. His eyes widened when he saw not all the casualties were Ylandrin warriors, but also included enemy soldiers. Most of the latter were severely injured. “
Heyas
! The rebels aren’t going to give way so easily, are they?” He turned to face his lover and clutched at his arm. “Please be careful, Kes,” he pleaded. “Come back to me.”

“I will,” Keosqe assured him. “I have good reason to.”

He pulled Tristen into his arms and sealed their mouths together in a long liquid kiss full of promise. Afterward, Tristen watched him mount his zentyr and ride out with his troop. He took a deep breath and did his best to clear his head of worry and weariness. There were casualties to attend to and possibly lives to save.

Steeling himself, he approached the new arrivals and instructed them to bring their wounded to the nearest tent.

Epilogue

Requited

Nivare, Sidona in the 3011th year of the Common Age

Keosqe grinned when he spotted the slight hitch in Tristen’s gait. One would not see it unless one’s eyes were exclusively on the youth as he walked across the enormous reception hall of Deilen Court with Dylen Essendri and Riodan Leyhar. It was his fault of course that Tristen was feeling a tad sore down yonder.

He’d walked in on his lover as he was selecting what to wear for Keosqe’s begetting day celebration in the evening. Tristen clad in naught but a loose shirt and thin drawers had proved much too tempting to resist and before the lad knew it, he’d been borne to the nearby couch and placed a-straddle Keosqe’s lap, his drawers down around his ankles. Whereupon, Keosqe had persuaded him to ride his shaft to their mutual completions. That Tristen had gone about it quite vigorously was unexpected but most welcome. However, he now paid the price for his enthusiasm and no doubt was inwardly cursing his lover for his discomfort. Keosqe’s grin widened at the notion.

At length, he took his leave of Eiren Sarvan and Ashrian Mithani and sauntered over to join Tristen. The youth had hastened to the hall’s entrance to welcome Veare and his mate Narion. They exchanged pleasantries but Narion soon left them to be with some lesser-born Deira of his acquaintance. He was still and probably always would be ill at ease with members of the aristocracy and especially nobles of Keosqe’s stature.

Soon after Rohyr and Lassen arrived, much to Veare’s elation as he was presented to them for the first time. He watched them for a long while as they moved around the hall, greeting guests here and there.

“Did you invite every Deira of note in the land?” he inquired, his eyes sparkling at the sheer number of distinguished guests. He was always in his element when in company with highborn folk whose acquaintance he deemed desirable.

Keosqe shook his head. “
Aba
wished to renew a few friendships.”

“A few?” Veare gestured in Reijir Arthanna’s direction. The Ilmaren fief-lord was discussing something with Zykriel Calanthe and the Herun of Edessa. “Do an Ardan, his consort, three other Herune and their heirs plus a dozen barons count as few? Not to mention a score of bluebloods from here and without!”

“Their Graces are rather retiring,” Tristen noted. “They don’t travel overmuch. That’s why Kes takes care of that aspect of ruling. Indeed they prefer to remain here and leave it to him to see to the family interests in Rikara. So it stands to reason they would take advantage of the occasion to ask old friends over.”

Veare regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Hmm, I suppose you’re right.”

“I am right,” Tristen cheekily asserted. He looked at Keosqe with some asperity. “And you still haven’t told me what you would like for your begetting day. Consequently, I have no gift to offer you and no time to run out and buy one even if you told me now.”

Keosqe laughed. “I still stand by my request that all you need give me is your company. And since you’re here and helping me tend to my guests, you’re already fulfilling your side of our agreement.”

“Besides, there’s nothing you need that you don’t already have,” Veare put in. “Really, thinking of a gift for you is an impossible chore. It would have to be fashionable yet distinctive enough to stand out amongst all the presents you’re bound to receive.”

“Which is why I didn’t make the attempt.”

They all turned to welcome Rohyr. Veare went pale one moment and flushed with excitement the next at being privy to a conversation with Ylandre’s sovereign.

“Not that Lassen and I didn’t get you something,” Rohyr clarified with a wink. “But we thought you had more than enough cloaks, gloves, tunics, beddings, sweets and wines and Veres only knows how many kickshaws to go with every occasion. So we decided instead to give you what you’ll need once your betrothal is made public.”

Keosqe noticed Veare’s incredulous expression but he ignored it for the moment. “What did you pick out? Not an elaborately embroidered counterpane, I hope.”

Except for Veare, they all snickered at the memory of another begetting day gift years ago. “Nay,” Rohyr replied. “I still remember your attempt at diplomacy with Rysander. Which reminds me … did you really place it on your bed?”

“Of course I did.” Keosqe lowered his voice. “After I had some of the excessive embroidery removed.”

Rohyr laughed out loud. “May Uncle Mered never find out! Though Rysander would probably laud you for remedying the matter yourself. But enough banter.” He pulled a small satin-covered box out of his formal tunic and, presenting it to Keosqe, opened it. “Happy Begetting Day, cousin. I hope this pleases.”

Tristen gaped when he espied the two earrings nestled inside the box. The elliptical gold pieces each bore a perfect heartsfire, the blood-hued gem of love and passion. The presence of heartsfires in matching earrings indicated the wearers were betrothed to each other. Delicately etched in the lower end of each earring were Keosqe’s personal badge and the Deilen family crest.

Keosqe accepted the jewelry with an appreciative smile. He glanced at Tristen and saw his lover was looking from the earrings to Rohyr with awe. Veare, on the other hand, had the expression of one belatedly apprised of a great secret. And indeed that was the case. The kit was out of the proverbial sack. It was time to tell Veare about his oldest friend and younger brother.

“My thanks, Roh,” he said to his royal cousin. “It amazes me how well you know us that you can anticipate our needs.”

Rohyr grinned. “Well, in your case, it was blatantly obvious what you were about. I think our whole House knows by now.” He looked at Tristen and added, “It gladdens me that Kes has found one so worthy as you. Welcome to the family, Tristen Marante.”

Tristen caught his breath at being addressed thusly by Rohyr. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he half stammered. “But verily you esteem me overmuch.”

“Humble too,” Rohyr commented to Keosqe. “He’s truly a treasure. And it’s Rohyr henceforth to you, Tris-
min
. We will be kin after all.”

Keosqe chuckled and gently tapped Tristen under the chin to get him to close his mouth. Which he did with an almost audible snap followed by a slight reddening of his cheeks. Keosqe knew he would never tire of the sight.

Satisfied with the reactions his gift had elicited, Rohyr took his leave of them to rejoin his beloved Lassen. Whereupon Tristen took one of the earrings and smoothed a finger over it almost reverently.

“I can’t believe it,” he muttered. “I’m going to be wearing a gift from His Majesty.”

“You’re to address him as Rohyr,” Keosqe gently reminded him. “You may add
dyhar
if you’re more comfortable with that.”

Veare finally cut in. “You’re betrothed?” he asked rather acerbically.

Tristen gulped and then nodded. “But we won’t wed at once,” he explained. “Kes has agreed that we wait until I reach my majority and finish my apprenticeship.”

“Which isn’t too far off,” Veare said. “Just when were you going to ask for my permission?”

“Later this evening had Rohyr not revealed it,” Keosqe answered. “We didn’t think you’d approve had we approached you any earlier.”

“I should think not considering Tristen’s age. Saints above, Kes, why Tris?” Veare eyed his brother with some suspicion. “And have you been on intimate terms all these years?” When Tristen’s blush deepened, Veare sighed and shook his head. “You didn’t take advantage of his hospitality toward you, did you?”

“Of course not!” Tristen huffed. “Damn it, I knew you’d think I started it!”

Keosqe placed an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Tris did his best to keep me at arm’s length. It isn’t his fault I’m one persistent cad.”

“You’re no cad,” Tristen was quick to object. “But you
are
persistent.”

Veare stared hard at Keosqe. “How long?”

“I assume you mean when did we begin our affair.”

“Obviously.”

“A few months after his thirtieth begetting day. But even before that we had already started to, shall we say, come to an understanding.”

“That soon.” Veare blew his breath out. “Veres almighty, had I known…”

“What?” Tristen challenged. “What would you have done? Forced us apart? Taken me back to Sidona? I promise you I wouldn’t have agreed. And if you didn’t know that, then you don’t know me at all.”

He held his brother’s startled glare. Veare backed down first. He turned his gaze from Tristen to Keosqe, something like reproach in the depths of his eyes.

“You moved on after all,” he remarked. “I’d thought you more steadfast.”

Keosqe stared back. “So you knew all this time that I loved you,” he sharply said.

“Of course I knew,” Veare shot back. “I’m not as witless as you seem to think.”

A little taken aback by Veare’s accusatory tone, Keosqe responded in kind. “Why did you never let me know? Surely you didn’t think I would force myself on you.”

Veare shrugged. “I felt it unnecessary since I’d made it clear I wasn’t interested in becoming your Heris.” He glanced sidewise at Tristen, his expression a little jaundiced. “But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine you’d turn to my brother instead. Really, Kes, what were you thinking, taking a child to your bed?”

“I was no child when he first bedded me,” Tristen retorted hotly. “And I’ll thank you not to foist your regrets on us. Oh don’t you deny it! You didn’t care to take on the obligations being his mate would entail, but you still wanted his devotion all to yourself. You resent that we truly love each other because you’d expected Kes to wed out of duty yet still deem you dearest to his heart even above his spouse.” He wrapped a protective arm around Keosqe’s waist. “You’re a good friend and a loving brother, Ver, but that doesn’t give you license to disregard the needs of others just because they inconvenience you.”