The room was quiet but for the sound of shoes scuffling back and forth across the stone floor. The sunlight that streamed in through the window, nothing more than a round opening in the white bricks overlooking the lower sections of the city. All the buildings seemed to emit a soft glow, reflecting the bright rays back into the sky. Even the high walls that held back the ocean seemed less menacing and more like a part of a beautiful work of art. The waves crashing against it was simply a murmur, worshiping the shining white city. Settled high on the peak with a southward wind blowing, the sounds of hustle and bustle from the marketplace were carried away, leaving Kris unable to hear them as much as he strained his ears. He was glad to have the peace. The calm before the storm, he thought.
Spread across the floor was a large square of rough fabric, clothes and books piled haphazardly in its center. The heavy armor was already wrapped up in its own bag. The corners of it fluttered in the sudden breeze that swept in as the wooden door creaked open. Devis stood, watching Kris silently as he flipped through the pages of a thick book he’d just pulled from the bookcase, seemingly oblivious to his presence. Devis tugged at his loose shirt, straightening it out best he could before clearing his throat.
“Sir, you are going to battle. Are you sure those books are necessary?” he asked quietly, glancing down as his bare feet. Kris gently folded shut the book in his hands, placing it back in its proper place on the shelf.
“I’m sorry to make you carry extra weight, but you know I can’t go a day without them,” he replied coolly, turning to face the servant boy. Devis nodded, his shaggy bangs falling over his face.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mind at all. It would just be a shame if they were damaged on the road,” Devis replied quickly, a blush rising in his cheeks as he hung his head. He didn’t see Kris’ faint smile, and was surprised as he felt one hand cup his chin and tilt it upward slightly, finding himself looking down into his master’s blue eyes.
“There’s no need to apologize to me when father or mother is not around, you know that, you goof.”
Devis was unable to hold in the quick laugh, and placed his own hand on his master’s arm.
“I have to get used to this type of behavior. If your superiors were to see us behaving this way I’d be sent away for certain.”
“I guess you have a point,” Kris sighed, dropping his hand and returning to the packing at hand. “But I still don’t want you to forget out friendship. I should be the one apologizing to you for dragging you into this.”
“It’s an honor for me to be a part of this,” Devis interjected quickly, walking to the window. “The sooner the Ceapals are forced back, the better.”
“Damn greedy liars,” hissed Kris through his teeth. “Promising to pay us back for all we’ve provided them with only to be repaid with more and more demands. But agreeing to help them… I guess our people are just as greedy. If this goes on for much longer we’ll all be peasants.”
“Then who will fight?”
“No one,” laughed Kris bitterly. “We’ll have lost.”
The next hour was spent in silence as they checked their provisions, double-checked them, and finally tied them up, loading them into a small carriage that sat outside the mansion gates. The strong sea breeze outside blew the boys’ hair about wildly. Kris was the first to climb into the carriage, sweeping his golden hair back as he ducked in. Devis next, squeezing himself into the opposite seat between the wall and the luggage. With a brief detached farewell to the master of the house, the carriage lurched away, jerking as the wooden wheels bounced over the uneven stone roads and down the hill into the main part of the city. They endured the painful ride on uncushoined seats for an hour before they were finally relieved by the soft dirt just outside city walls. Kris breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing his aching rear.
“I hope that was the worst of the journey,” he said with a laugh, watching Devis struggle to move the baggage which had squished him against the wall.
“You’re an adult now, so you’d best start acting like one and stop complaining,” Devis teased. “Or become a complete glutton. Then maybe you’d have as much natural cushion as your father.”
“Sush!” Kris said in a harsh whisper hoping the driver hadn’t heard the remark, but it took all his self control to keep him from bursting into laughter.
The remaining three days of the ride was pleasantly uneventful. Kris had half expected thieves to assault them. After all, his father hadn’t chosen the most subtle means of transportation. Kris would have preferred a horse, but knew his father wouldn’t have granted one to a servant as well. He wouldn’t have had Devis, the servant whose head now rested on his shoulder as he slept, walk the entire way.
Kris ran his fingers fondly through the mess of dark hair, tangled and strawlike from the salty air of their home. The gruff hair didn’t match with the soft, young looking face at all. The full cheeks, thick lashes, and porcelain skin would have caused any woman to swoon had he not been born a servant. Despite the youthful appearance, the boy was actually older than himself by several months, and an inch or two taller, something that they would always tease about.
The carriage suddenly bounced a couple times, and Devis’ eyes fluttered open, his expression weary and befuddled. Blurry eyes looking up at his friend’s face, he returned Kris’ smile with an incomprehensible mumble. Kris patted his head.
“We’re nearly there, I think. It’s been dark out for hours.” And sure enough, as he pulled back the curtain of the tiny window to his right, he could see the faint flickering of campfires up ahead, and the sound of off-key singing began to come in waves.
The carriage jerked to an unexpected halt, discontented horses neighing to the front. Devis was caught off guard and flew onto the floor, hitting his head hard against the seat as he fell. Kris shouted rude remarks at the driver, but as he leaned over in an attempt to assist his unconscious friend, the door was very nearly ripped off the hinges, dark, bulky shapes silhouetted against the open fires. Kris squinted his eyes, trying to make out the faces, but before he could do anything was grabbed roughly by the forearm and pulled from the carriage. A jolt ran through his body as he was slammed to the ground.
“So the traitors arrive,” barked a gruff voice hovering over his head. “Welcome to the party.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Kris demanded as he struggled to his feet, his entire body weak from the impact. About halfway up a large hand grabbed the collar of his shirt lifting him into the air.
“What the hell am I doing? What the hell are YOU doing? You think anyone here doesn’t recognize the symbol on your cart? You think we’re too stupid to know you’re from that bloody Kael family? You were the ones who caused all this, you and your bloody money!” he spat.
“Keenan!” came an angry shout from the darkness. Kris felt the grip on his shirt loosen and dropped him to the ground again. Gasping for breath, he saw another dark shape growing closer. With a last angry growl, the attacker spit on the ground before disappearing. Devis raised his head, feeling the throbbing pain in his temple grow worse as he tried to move. Dragging himself to the open door, he saw only a glimpse of the action as Kris was dropped hard to the ground and the large man who had held him quickly walked away.
“Starting trouble already?”
Devis jumped at the voice. Kris clutched at the side of the carriage as he tried to pull himself up.
“You think we’re the ones starting it?” he said through clenched teeth, holding his side. The new arrival slipped one of his arms around Kris’ waist, offering much needed support.
“You really haven’t developed a sense of humor at all, have ya?” the man laughed.
“I don’t think I would laugh right now even if I could.”
“If it hurts so much to speak, then shut up. You there,” the man said, nodding at Devis. “Grab your things. Best you’d get rid of this rolling invitation for quarrels soon as possible. C’mon now, just follow me and don’t trip.”
“Sutebenu!” exclaimed Devis as they were swallowed in the orange light from one of the many fires. Setting Kris gently on a log, the redhead looked up with a smile.
“You didn’t recognize me before? That hurts y’know?”
“But what are you doing here? Serba is not involved in this is it?”
“Nah,” he replied, standing up straight. Devis wasn’t surprised to see the man wearing only pants. As modest as man as he was otherwise, he was rightfully proud of his physique. “But if things keep goin’ the way they are, it’s bound to spread. I thought I might be able to do more good here than at home sowin’ crops that only dry up in the drought.”
“Who was that?” Kris interjected, brushing the dirt off his leather vest. Reminded of his friend’s injuries, Devis quickly took a seat beside him, looking concerned.
“Just one of many who aren’t happy with some of your father’s decisions. Best advice, don’t try to talk sense with them. Most of the people from the Periol army are glad to see ya here, but there’s a handful of rebels too. Keep your distance and if you gotta, don’t be afraid to call on me.”
“I think that I am better off asserting my own strength, but thank you for the offer,” Kris replied, gazing into the fire. Sutebenu laughed one of his deep, hearty laughs that seemed to carry across the entire campgrounds.
“Twenty years on your back and sixty in your mind,” he said. “Tell ya what, I’ll go see if I can’t sweet talk one of the cooks into sparing some rations for you two.” With a wink, he stepped outside the small circle of light the flame provided and disappeared.
The night was impossibly dark. Though Kris knew the castle wasn’t far off, it was impossible to see through the inky blackness that swarmed between the scattered fires. Their own site sat on the very edge of the camp with the rest of the mercenaries and volunteers. The royal guard crowded themselves closer around south and east sides of the castle in large tents. Blacksmiths and other workers formed the next layer, followed by Perolian knights. The least dispensable were always the best protected.
“Let me make sure you’re alright,” insisted Devis, ignoring the sharp pain and swelling on his own head as he knelt in front of his master, reaching for his vest. Kris, though he didn’t look up, gave an approving nod, and moved his arms to assist Devis as he carefully peeled it off and began working at the buttoned down shirt.
“How is your head?” Kris asked. Devis stopped, halfway done, his fingers lingering on one button, and looked up into the stern looking but concerned features.
“I-It’s fine…” he lied, continuing to work down the buttons when Kris grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it hard. A squeak of pain escaped Devis. When Kris spoke, his voice was very low, threatening, and filled Devis with a sudden shame.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m sorry! But it’s really okay, just a bump…”
Kris jumped to his feet, pulling his servant up with him. Pulling Devis’ face close to his own, Kris glared angrily into the teary eyes. But as Devis’ lip began to quiver he could feel the anger draining out of him, replaced with sympathy. Loosening his hands around the baggy shirt, Kris rested his forehead against his servant’s and closed his eyes. Devis sniffled, and shut his eyes too as Kris reached up to stroke the back of his neck.
“I worry about you too, you know… I don’t want to lose you out there if you claim you’re well when the truth is that you are hurt. I’d never forgive myself.”
“I don’t want to be a burden to you,” Devis replied softly, feeling his master’s soft breath against his face. “But if your wishes are for me to tell you the truth, then I will.”
“You’re a good friend,” Kris replied as his mouth twitched into a half forced smile, left a lingering kiss on his servant’s warm cheek. “We had best get some sleep while we can. The sky is already beginning to brighten. I think our wounds are mild enough to wait until morning.”
