Makellos shook his head yet again. He had spent most of his childhood avoiding the geist whenever possible. His gory work and cruel stare made Makellos’ blood run cold in his veins. But he had never imagined his mother would send her Shadow after him, of all people. Something had to have gone wrong back at the palace or with the shadow creature, for Makellos had never known him to not complete a task he had been given. His lethality was legendary.
“Well, it’s pretty much morning,” Hardwic said, glancing out the grimy window. “It’s your turn to stay home, isn’t it, Grim?”
Grimwald nodded slowly, his eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll keep an eye out for the old witch today, just in case.”
“And at night, we should find a way to protect the prince, since the Queen knows he’s alive,” Sigurd said thoughtfully.
“Well, we can stew on it and figure it out tonight,” Der said. He glanced out the window where the sky was more of a charcoal than an inky black. “We should get going anyway.”
Nine
After final reassurances that Makellos felt all right and that he would keep his talking to a minimum, six of the little men set out for the mines as the sun painted the sky with broad strokes of the most incredible colors. It was quite beautiful, Makellos mused to himself as he watched them go. Grimwald stayed behind today. He started to gather the dirty dishes, but Makellos shook his head, taking them from Grim’s hands. He patted his chest, letting Grim know that he could take care of it.
Grim gazed back at him before he sighed thickly and nodded. “All right. ‘Smy job to cut wood anyway, and we need a hell of a lot of it come winter. So, I’ll be out front if you need me.”
Makellos nodded eagerly again, and Grim headed out the door. Makellos cleaned up the dishes and breakfast. He watched out the front window as he did. He thought that Grim must have been a woodcutter earlier in his life, for he swung the ax with practiced ease, splitting each log with precision. Makellos made his way out to the garden to pick some vegetables to prepare for the evening’s dinner. He was in the garden, only a short distance away, when the steady sound of Grim’s work stopped.He glanced up to see the man peel off his sweat-soaked shirt and toss it aside. Despite his small stature, the years of work in the mines and chopping wood had given the man an amazingly sculpted torso and arms. Makellos found himself staring. He was not usually one to gawk at anyone; his mother would scold him for his rudeness. And, she reminded him, a prince was above all others. He was to be stared at, not to do the staring himself.
Grim picked up the ax and swung it up over his head, bringing it down with a vicious whack that split the wood into two pieces. Makellos nearly dropped the basket of vegetables he held as he watched the little man’s muscles twist and flex in the sunlight, dotted all over with little beads of shining perspiration. His face went red, though it had nothing to do with his aching throat. He headed back inside the cottage as quickly as he could, having to take a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart and rushing blood.
He had never had that reaction to anyone before. Not that he had many opportunities to see partially-naked men or women in the palace anyway. Many of the servants were so afraid of the Queen that none of them had ever tried to seduce him that he was aware of. He didn’t blame them, for nothing good could come of a servant, or even a noble, openly courting him in front of his mother.
Once he had himself back under control, Makellos made a drink of a few crushed fruits before going back out to where Grim worked, holding out the mug in offering. Grimwald set the ax down, looking surprised but held out his hands for it. Makellos gave it to him, and Grim swallowed several mouthfuls. “Damn. That’s pretty good,” he said, peering into the mug. “Thanks.”
Makellos nodded, then glanced down at the ax. He had never chopped wood before either, and he was sure Grim could use a little break. He pointed to the ax, then held out his hands,offering to give it a try himself. Grim glowered at him. “You’re not doing that,Snow White.” He said the name like it hurt his mouth to form the words.
Makellos frowned and reached for the ax, but Grim grabbed it and pulled it back. “It’s hard work. Too hard for your soft hands.”
Makellos glared, putting said soft hands on his hips. Just because he was not used to the work did not mean that he could not or did not want to help out. Everyone had to start doing things without experience, after all.
Grim gazed back at him for a moment before his shoulders loosened, and he sighed. “Look, I’ll teach ya how to cut wood. But not right now. You’re injured. Once you’re recovered.” Makellos lifted a dark, skeptical brow. “I promise,” Grim said with a huff.
Makellos held out his hand to the man to shake. Grim stared at it in surprise, looking up into Makellos’ blue eyes. After a moment, he lifted his own hand and hocked an impressive wad of spit into it, offering it out to the prince.
Makellos recoiled for a moment, staring. That was disgusting. Grim gave him a small smirk and dropped the hand again. Makellos’ eyes narrowed. He would not let Grim get the better of him or continue to think of him as some sort of spoiled brat who could not hold his own. He had said he was going to be part of this group, and he would be. He lifted his own hand to his mouth, summoning as much saliva as he could on a whim, and spat it into his own hand. Much less impressive than Grim’s, but he didn’t care, just holding out his hand to seal the agreement.
Grim stared at him for a long moment before the corner of his lip twitched upward in an appreciative smile, and he slapped his hand into Makellos’, giving it a shake. “Guess you better recover fast, kid.” Makellos blew him a playful kiss, and Grim actually laughed, the sound loud and boisterous. “All right, all right, getback to your own work.” Makellos turned to head back into the cottage, but he did not miss seeing the bright red spots that bloomed on Grimwald’s cheeks when he blew him that kiss.
Even though he was still working hard, Makellos noticed that Grimwald did several laps around the area of the cottage under the guise of grabbing more wood. But Makellos could see him holding his ax defensively, his eyes darting back and forth through the trees. When a large buck ventured close to the house, Grim yelled and raced at it, and the buck darted away. Makellos smiled to himself. Grim really was serious about making sure that he was safe should the Queen attempt another attack. It worried him that she knew that Hans had lied and that he still lived. He wondered if the merciful huntsman, usually so loyal to his mother, was still alive and what might have become of him. He also could only hope that the Shadow had not told her where to find him. He didn’t know the extent of the geist’s powers, or even exactly how his mother controlled him. He could also only hope that if there was another attempt made on his life, the little men who had been so kind to him would not be harmed.
Once the others had returned and eaten the hearty stew Makellos had prepared, the topic was broached again of sleeping arrangements.
“Should we sleep in shifts?” suggested Sigurd.
Makellos frowned and shook his head at that. The little men already worked so hard every day, they all needed as much rest as they could get. He did not want to add an extra burden onto them over an attempt that might not even happen.
Sigmund gave a mischievous, little smile. “Put all the beds together and sleep around the prince?”
Makellos felt his face go red for the second time that day. He ducked his head a little, peering up at the little men with a slightly shy smile. He had never shared a bed before with anyone, though he realized that he did not oppose the idea. If the Shadow, or anyone else, attacked him again when they were all gathered together, someone would wake up sooner.
“Would that be all right, your highness?” Bernhardt asked. “We just want to keep you safe, should the Queen make another attempt.”
Makellos smiled again. “You all are very sweet. But you don’t need to put yourself in danger for my sake.” His voice still had a rasp to it, but he could tell it was already getting better from his day of imposed silence.
“Oh, shut up, that wasn’t the question,” Grim grumbled.
Makellos felt his whole body burn. He had never in his life been told to ‘shut up,’ but the way Grimwald had said it held a note of affection that made his insides flutter in a strange way.
“You are one of us,” Bernhardt said, giving him a reassuring smile. “We will not let you be hurt again.”
