First, of course, he had to get free, kill the guards, and venture up the Azul Mountains. Just another day as a royal bodyguard. "You going to be all right, Fidel?"
"No," Fidel said sourly. "Not until I find the bastard who fed me whatever is trying to make my stomach crawl out of my body and make him eat his own cooking. Why aren't you sick, you bastard?"
"I've had worse," Dario replied. "If I take care of the guards can you at least leave under your own power?"
Fidel nodded and slowly sat up. "I will do whatever is necessary to find Cortez and get her away from them. What did they do to her?"
"Woke up her god powers, apparently," Dario replied and explained to Fidel what he had missed while he was passed out.
When he was done, Fidel just shook his head and said, "Poor Cortez. All she wants is to be left alone. I do not pity those bastards when she finally gains the high ground."
"I did have the impression that she was only biding her time," Dario said. He knew another patient soul when he saw one; there seemed to be so few of them.
The door opened, drawing his attention, and he felt that familiar rush of awareness that said his moment had finally come. Normally, the guards came together to feed them. One would stand in the doorway, watching while the other dropped off their bowls of food.
There was only one guard this time. Dario hoped the missing guard was as sick as Fidel. He turned his head away, feigning the same disinterest he had appeared to show almost since his capture, and waited patiently while the guard first went to Fidel. The guard made a face at the profusion and smell of vomit. Not Dario's favorite either, but he felt worse for Fidel.
Still grimacing in disgust and clearly thinking more about how he would have to clean it up—or find someone else to make clean it up—the guard wandered over to Dario and bent over to set the bowl of food on the floor instead of kneeling, like he should have, and Dario almost laughed.
The bowl crashed to the floor as Dario kicked him square in the face, breaking the guard's nose and sending him tumbling back. Grabbing him by the pants leg, he pulled the man just close enough to pull the dagger from his belt and drove the hilt into the man's gut, further stunning him. He then quickly slit the rope holding his other wrist to the wall.
When he was free, he slit the guard's neck and relieved him of his sword and remaining dagger. "Time to go," he told Fidel and cut him loose and helped him to his feet.
"You are a snake," Fidel said. "Coiled until you spring."
Dario rolled his eyes. "I'm a soldier. Come on, we need to get out of here." He led the way from the room where they'd been kept. He was not at all surprised to find the other guard unconscious, his skin the same green-gray pallor that Fidel boasted. "Looks like he doesn't enjoy his cooking any more than you do."
He deliberated between leaving the man or killing him, but eventually decided to leave him. "We need supplies, equipment."
"Horses for when we come back down the mountain," Fidel added. "I would also dearly love something to settle my stomach."
"If you insist," Dario said with a smirk.
Fidel gestured crudely and stole the sword and daggers from the unconscious man. "I am not convinced we should not leave him with his throat slit."
"An unnecessary death brings ill fortune," Dario said as he walked to the door and yanked it open—and then proceeded to swear loudly and colorfully. When had it started raining? Why had he not noticed? It wasn't even a light rain: it was the sort of downpour that reduced visibility to nothing, the kind of rain that stung when it struck skin.
They weren't going anywhere, not yet. Eyes! He slammed the door shut, furious with himself—not that noticing it sooner would have done much good.
"We should throw the guards out, though we might be dealing with the living one again later," Fidel said. He didn't wait for Dario's reply, just vanished into the other room and reappeared a few minutes later dragging the dead guard. Dario opened the door for him and then went to fetch the other one.
He jerked awake at the movement, but Dario just slammed the hilt of his dagger down on the man's head, putting him right back out. They dragged the bodies outside, well away from the cabin, and ran back inside.
Shivering, dripping water everywhere, Dario went to the fireplace to build the dying flames back up. "I wonder if these bastards left anything of use around the place." He also wondered where the pair who owned the house had gone, but they were probably dead now that their purpose had been served.
When the fire was roaring, he stripped off his clothes and hung them to dry, relieved to be rid of the awful smell. Though he was not looking forward to the rain again, it would be worth it to be relatively clean. It wasn't as though he could do anything else until the deluge ended.
Bracing himself, he strode naked toward the door—and halted abruptly when it burst open and a hooded figure strode in. Well, didn't he look a perfect idiot standing naked and wet in front of a new threat.
Except nothing happened save for the man closing the door and then pushing back the hood of his heavy cloak, and Dario realized he wasn't likely a threat after all. In fact, he looked familiar. Surely he must have been losing his mind. "Are you—you can't be Captain Midori?"
"Guilty, I'm afraid, although it's no longer Captain," Midori replied, and if he was amused or puzzled to be speaking with a man who was completely nude, he gave no sign of it. He peered thoughtfully at Dario. "Are you perhaps Master Dario? We have only ever met briefly, but ..."
"Yes, I'm Dario. What in the world are you doing here?"
Midori flinched. "I am attempting to right a wrong." He set down the heavy pack he was carrying. "It is most strange that you are here, of all places. I cannot believe that you had anything to do with Culebra's kidnapping so I assume you are here to rescue him as well?"
"Uh—not exactly," Dario said and when Midori's expression turned ominous, hastened to add, "I was kidnapped to force him to cooperate with the kidnappers. It's a long story and to be honest, I'll tell it better when I am dressed and no longer smell like a refuse pile."
The thundercloud that had filled Midori's face vanished, replaced by a small, wry smile. "I can help with that, I think," Midori said. "I finished purchasing new supplies right before the rain hit. I was halfway here when—but this can all wait until you're dressed again."
He knelt and rifled through his pack, setting various bundles and packets on the floor before he finally pulled out a small tin. Standing up, he held it out. "Here you are: soap and razor. I've some spare clothes as well, for both of you if you would like."
"We'd be very grateful," Fidel said. "So ... you two know each other?"
"Clothes first," Dario said, heaving an aggrieved sigh as he crossed the room, took the tin, and threw himself outside to drown his mortification. Though shaving in the downpour was impossible, there was just enough of an overhang on the side of the cabin to allow him to scrub and shave, and by the time he ran back around to the door he was rinsed off and freezing to death.
Inside, he hastened to the fire, grateful for the blanket that Midori tossed at him. Sitting as close to the fire as he dared get, Dario began to dry himself off while Fidel took his turn in the rain. "So how in the name of the gods does the Captain of the Kundou Royal Navy come to be here in the farthest corners of Piedre?"
"He gets himself thrown out of the Navy for losing a prince and is sent as a diplomat to Piedre. Not even a day after his arrival, he loses a second prince." Midori smiled in a way that was clearly meant to make the situation amusing, but only came off sad and frustrated.
"You lost Culebra?" Dario asked. "You're a diplomat? He had never really known Midori; they'd been introduced in the course of their duties, even spoken briefly in passing, but a bodyguard and a naval captain had little to nothing in common. "What other prince did you lose?"
But even as he asked the question he knew the answer. Of course he did, why had he bothered asking? Two years before Prince Nankyokukai had been lost at sea. Rumors had it he'd run away from home, taking the source of his family's power with him. The royal family had never been the same since. Dario had always thought the story absurd, but he knew the part about Prince Nankyokukai being dead was true enough.
"Yes," Midori said and thrust a pile of clothes at him. "Two years ago I was sent to retrieve Prince Nankyokukai. I was meant to be his escort on a special mission for his father, but he ran away before completing that mission. I was sent to retrieve him. When I caught up with his ship, however, we found that they had just rescued Prince Culebra and Lord Krasny of Pozhar. Against the king's wishes, I left Prince Nankyokukai to do as he saw fit and escorted Lord Krasny and Prince Culebra to Pozhar. When I finally returned to Kundou, I was removed from my position. A few months ago I was appointed ambassador to Piedre. I arrived a couple of weeks ago—I think. I've been travelling so hard, I've lost track of the days, I'm afraid."
"Incredible," Dario said, shaking his head. He cast aside the blanket and hastily pulled on the clothes, sighing at the feel of being clean again. "Thank you for the clothes and the soap."
The door opened and Fidel strode in and joined them by the fire, sitting so close that Dario was impressed he did not catch fire. "So who are you?" Fidel asked.
Midori laughed and explained everything again and then continued on where he'd left off. "Culebra and I snuck out of the ball, even knowing we were going to get in trouble. He invited me to see his snake room—"
"Greenroom," Dario cut in, feeling sick to his stomach. "Everyone calls it his Hall of Snakes, and he hates that. He calls it the greenroom, which is what it was before the snakes took it over." He had thought that he and Culebra might still—
But obviously not because Culebra rarely invited anyone to view his snakes. He never would have gone off with a near-stranger just for that. If he liked Midori well enough to offer to show him the snakes then they hadn't snuck out of the ballroom to go there first. No, the snakes would have been offered later—much later.
All the hope that had blossomed at the way Culebra had said his name, had touched him, withered and died. Culebra had never been the type to play around with people. He and Granito used to marvel at the way Culebra missed the way people flirted and offered, though they had always been relieved as well. And the suitors all gave up so quickly that, so far as he was concerned, they did not deserve him anyway.
Granito and Dario had been the first ones to go after him in earnest. They had been pleasantly surprised to see that as quiet and reserved as Culebra generally was in public, even in private, that did not hold true once the clothes started coming off. When Culebra wanted he could be bold. If he had snuck out with Midori only hours after Midori had arrived in Piedre ...
He must have been drawn to Midori. Culebra had moved on.
"I'm—excuse me," Dario said, unable to contrive a reasonable excuse and beyond caring. He had already just assumed that he would be able to take back his place at Culebra's side. The moment he'd heard that soft tone, the love in Culebra's voice that he had mistakenly thought was gone, he thought he still had a chance.
And Culebra might still love him, as it was impossible to stop loving someone completely after so many years together, but it was clear his affections had moved on to Midori. Dario pulled the door open and ignoring the rain that had finally begun to ease, slipped around to the side of the house to huddle beneath the overhang once more.
Culebra didn't want him anymore. Didn't need him. Dario rubbed at his burning eyes, the grief of that realization as hard and cutting as it had been the first time when Culebra had ordered him to leave. It was nearly as unbearable as learning that Granito was dead.
What was he supposed to do when he did not even have hope left? Rescue Culebra and then ... what? Just trying to figure it out was too much to endure. Dario closed his eyes and tried to put his mind solely on the matter of saving Culebra. Personal matters had to wait until everyone was safe.
"He still loves you, you know."
Dario jerked and went for the sword that was not at his hip, staring hard at Midori before he finally relaxed—slightly, anyway. "What?"
"I was trying not to reveal that we had slept together. It was only one night, a lark for both of us. He loves you. I am only here to right a wrong, not to interfere or get in anyone's way. Please, I am sorry to have upset you so, Master Dario."
As much as hated to admit it, Dario could see why Culebra had been drawn to him. He could count on one hand the number of people who had shown such genuine concern—genuine kindness—to Culebra. It was a rare trait in courtly life. "Why are you here? Culebra isn't your concern. His brother must have sent out soldiers to find him and retrieve him."
"The mistake was mine," Midori said. "If I had acted more like the sailor I have been most of my life, instead of the apathetic noble I have become, I would have stopped the kidnapper. That aside ... Culebra has been good to me when even my own family wants nothing to do with me. I was not sent here: I was more or less banished." He hesitated a moment, then said more quietly, "I also have good reason to believe that his brother means only to see that he does not return. I am trying to get to Culebra before his kidnappers or the royal soldiers kill him. I already dealt with one band of them a few days ago."
"I see," Dario said, and he wished the news surprised him. "This problem grows and grows. How did you track us down? To this very cabin? Even I could not have done that."
"I had a guide." Midori smiled crookedly, and Dario thought that if that smile was ever in Midori's voice he could definitely see why Culebra had not hesitated to take Midori to bed.
Eyes! He had no interest in understanding why Culebra found Midori appealing. He wanted Culebra, that was all. When this matter was over, he would be quite content to see Midori go on his merry away along with everyone else.