The Prince of Exiles (The Exile Series) (38 page)

 

“Oh right!” He roared. “I’m stronger than you all!”

 

Applause rang out from all around them, and Raven turned to see all of the nearby Kindred watching, clapping and laughing with exuberance. He turned back to Tomaz and saw the big man start to stomp about dramatically as the men made a show of being as heavy as possible. The laughter and cheering intensified, and Raven found himself joining in.

 

“No cheering – you haven’t had a drink with me yet!”

 

Raven turned at the sound of the mellifluous baritone just as a hand clapped down on his shoulder. It was Davydd, his hair clean and swept back, his face and beard freshly washed and trimmed. He looked stunningly handsome, even with the vertical scar across his eye.

 

“By the gods big brother,” Leah said, looking him up and down, “you really clean up nice when you take the time.”

 

“Hells yes I do,” Davydd replied, flashing a roguish smile full of white teeth and charisma. “But don’t you dare try to change the subject.”

 

He thrust out his other hand to Leah and Raven – it was bearing two full mugs of mead.

 

“Drink or drinking will be thrust upon you!” He called out loudly. A number of young men nearby took up the cheer, all, like Davydd, wearing the formal rearing-horse patch of the Rangers clipped to the breast of their black Midwinter shirts. Raven recognized Robbit among them, as well as Tobyn and Pritchen from his time with them in the Roarke Mountains.

 

Leah rolled her eyes, but reached forward and grabbed one anyway. She looked into the cup, eyeing the liquid critically, and then, in a single, fluid motion, tossed her head back and drank the whole thing, gulping it down in one huge draught.

 

She righted herself, wiped her mouth on her sleeve for dramatic effect, and then belched.

 

Cheers rang out from the gathered group, and Raven found himself so shocked at the displayed that he laughed out loud.

 

Davydd clapped him on the shoulder again.

 

“I think that may be the first time I’ve
ever
heard you laugh without the aide of drugs,” he said with a devilish grin. He held out another mug; Raven seized it and threw back his head before his better judgment could stop him.

 

The liquid was sweet and hot, going down his throat like melted butter, sending shooting threads of warmth to the tips of his fingers and toes.

 

“YOU GOT THE PRINCELING TO DRINK MORE MEAD!” Roared Tomaz.

 

Raven whirled, only to see the giant shake off the rest of the men, to the enthusiastic amusement and cheers of the gathered Kindred crowd, and come barreling toward him. The big man punched a fist in the air, his huge block of a bearded chin bristling in a strange kind of pride.

 

A huge hand grabbed Raven from behind and spun him around, and he just barely managed to get a glimpse of the large, bluff, and oddly splotchy face of Lorna, before he was picked up in a huge bear hug.

 

“You are now one of us,” Lorna said solemnly, cracking his back and squeezing the air out of him.

 

She put him down, and then turned to Davydd, to whom she handed another mug. She and he both drank again, as Raven staggered back.

 

Strong and slender arms caught him, and his mind suddenly slipped into the Raven Talisman.

 

-
silver and green shadows across the moon, the sound of steel cutting
 
silk, the smell of honey, lavender and trail dust, the black of midnight lightened by the blazing brilliance of two sparkling emerald stars –

 

He pulled himself upright, and disentangled himself from Leah.

 

“GOOD CATCH!” Roared Tomaz to Leah, smacking her on the back. His face was a bright red color now, and he had his mug in his hand, once again full.

 

The festival continued, and, for the first time in maybe his entire life, Raven let go completely. Kindred welcomed him as if he had always been one of them, and he found himself talking to them, all of them that approached him, as equals. The knots in his shoulders loosened, as the tension that had been there for so long began to melt away. His smile widened; laughter flitted through the grove of trees, and cheers and toasts rang throughout the city, joined by anyone who happened to be nearby, the night full of love and life and laughter.

 

Midnight passed, and the Festival continued, the moon rising above them to join the stars in the heavens, shinning down happily from above. Sometime soon after, Raven, Leah, and Tomaz, found themselves on a makeshift speaking platform for a play that had been abandoned once the performers had finished with it. Seeking a brief respite from the crowd, the three had made their way up there, speaking among themselves.

 

“There was a court bard I knew,” Raven said slowly, doing his best not to let his own tongue trip him up in the telling of his story, “though what became of him I don’t rightly know, and he –”

 

“His name warn’t Yorick was it happen to be?” Tomaz asked thickly, gazing almost cross-eyed at Raven, his mug clutched tightly in one fist. He squinted at Raven and then closed one eye and continued slowly, determined to avoid the traps and pitfalls along the path to a good sentence.

 

“His name didn’t happen to Yorick, did it?” The big man said more clearly.

 

“No,” Raven said, amused, fighting through the mead clouding his own head. “Yorick was the bard beheaded by Tiffenal I think, nearly a decade before I was born. I think he still has the head,” the Prince said a little grimly, “though it’s only a skull now. He keeps it by his throne in Formaux in his audience chamber. Talks to it sometimes like it’s still alive. Thinks it’s hilarious, though I never understood it. Tiffenal is definitely the oddest of the bunch. Why do you ask?”

 

“Because shadow-cursed
Yorick
made me sit through a four hour play once, that’s why!” Tomaz roared, suddenly vicious, but laughing underneath it as he tried and failed to rise. He ended up finding this immensely funny, as did Leah and Raven, and they all dissolved into laughter.

 

Still snorting and chuckling, Tomaz continued: “Made me sit through it just to spite me, back when I was young. Damn thing had
seven
monologuologies. Monologies.”

 

“Monologues?”

 

“No, soliloquies,” Tomaz said.

 

Leah snorted so loudly Raven burst out laughing again, deep waves of mirth rolling out of him, so long and loud and uncontrolled that it brought tears to his eyes. Tomaz and Leah both began laughing at him, and this just made him laugh harder, until he could barely breath.

 

“I hate soliloquies too,” Raven said when he’d finally caught his breath. The laughing made him feel rather childish, but it felt so good he simply didn’t care.

 

“Philistines, the both of you!” Leah declared, taking a swig of her drink. “I love when they give the monologues, it’s the most dramatic part. I saw this play once – Raven, you’ll have to see it when we do it next – where a man spoke over the dead body of his best friend, and it was so moving I almost didn’t know what to do with myself. I love theatre.”

 

“Yes, yes, you’re very cultured,” Tomaz said, gesticulating wildly with his mug as he bowed to her, causing her to stick out her tongue in retaliation. “But finish your story princeling. The bard. That one.”

 

“Right,” Raven said, still trying to catch his breath from his fit of laughter. “This bard, he used to say that
every
story was a love story at heart. I didn’t believe him then, and I don’t know if I do now, but he said every story is about love because love is passion, and every story is moved along by great passion. Love for a country or a cause, for an ideal or a freedom, for a man or a woman.”

 

“I think he was a smart madn,” said Tomaz, then cleared his throat and concentrated hard. “Maaannn.”

 

Leah and Raven both snorted at the same time. Tomaz motioned grandly for silence.

 

“It’s true!” The big man rumbled, sounding more coherent. “Everything is about passion. The
need
for something. The overwhelming desire for a thing or a person, that’s what moves men and nations. Seeing something, or some
one
that takes away your breath and steals your heart forever. Something that makes you want to write songs and poetry, or steal the moon and so you can trade it for their heart.”

 

Raven smiled and looked up at the stars at the same time Leah did, but halfway through the motion their eyes locked and held, and they stared at each other instead, the moon, the night, and the world forgotten. He felt his breath catch in his chest again, and this time saw it catch in hers as well. Her mouth opened slightly, in a small “o” of surprise, and a single strand of hair came free of her hood and fell across her wide, bright eyes, eyes that met his without blinking in the cold air of the wintry night. A tightness clutched his chest then that had nothing to do with the temperature, and he unconsciously reached through the Talisman, touching her, letting the feel of her life roll over him, smelling the clean, warm scent of her hair as it flowed around the sharp, sculpted lines of her face.

 

Both of them stood at the same time, startling Tomaz so badly he reached to unsheathe his sword, which was of course still in his cabin.

 

“Bandits?” He asked, deciding this was the only plausible reason for so abrupt a motion.

 

“No,” Leah said quickly.

 

“Raccoons?” Tomaz said, implying this was worse.

 

“No,” Raven said, his voice low and throaty.

 

“…. Raccoon bandits?” Tomaz asked, horrified.

 

“I should really go make sure Davydd is all right –”

 

“Yes,” Raven said, “and I should really go get Tomaz some water –”

 

“Right! Good idea.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Okay.”

 

There was a long, immensely uncomfortable and awkward beat of silence, and then, without another word, they both turned on the spot and left the platform in opposite directions. Raven walked quickly, feeling as though some part of his midsection had been left behind, but forcing himself to keep going anyway. As he turned a corner, he heard Tomaz rumble something to himself about a wolverine, but the rest of it was lost in a sudden swirl of music that leapt to his ears.

 

A number of Kindred with instruments had formed up and begun to play, encouraging a large group of men and women to break into a dance. The couples whirled across the space to the cheers and laughter of spectators, as Raven began to move around them, unable to think very clearly, just trying to put one foot in front of the other.

 

And then he realized that the street leading to this square was curved, and that he was heading back around toward where he had left Tomaz. He stopped where he was, in the middle of a number of swirling figures –

 

Leah was there, having come from the opposite direction.

 

“Don’t just stand there!” Called a voice behind him. Raven saw Davydd dancing with a stunningly beautiful woman who was at least a foot taller than him. “Both of you – let’s go! Be a man and grab her already!”

 

Raven and Leah were pushed together, and then they were clasping hands, his arm around her waist, her arm around his neck shoulder, their faces close enough to touch.

 

And then they were swept into the crowd. Neither of them knew the dance, but it didn’t seem to matter. They jumped and twirled and spun along with everyone else, unable to look anywhere but at each other, dancing like they fought, pushing and pulling each other, breathing in rhythm, never slowing, their bodies so close but never completely touching, breath coming faster and harsher, until the song ended in an explosion of sound that brought cheers from the Kindred.

 

Leah and Raven stood where they had landed, breathing shallowly, faces barely inches apart. The air between them was warmed by the other’s breath, and Raven realized his hands were shaking.

 

“I …” Leah began, her eyes wide. But words failed her, and she simply stood there until, unable to stand the ache he felt any longer, Raven leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

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