Draylon stood back, watching as a stranger tended to his husband. Was Yarif okay? They hadn’t come this far, endured this much, for one of them to die now.
Draylon watched while two men loaded Yarif on a mule and took him away. Vihaan’s hand on his arm prevented Draylon from following.
“I trust them,” Vihaan said. “They’ll keep him safe.”
Without another word, Draylon mounted his mule and followed Vihaan, avoiding bodies in the path.
Mother Mountain’s children would feast.
What was happening with Yarif? He’d been tended by a battlefield healer, but he’d lost much blood and had to be carried out on a mule while being held by a soldier. A stranger, not Draylon.
The healer also turned Draylon away when they camped at night, keeping him from his husband. What if Yarif suffered a nightmare? No one should be touching him but Draylon.
They left the mountains for rolling hills after they’d crossed the Renvallian border and procured a wagon for Yarif at the first village they found. At least Draylon had seen Yarif moved from mule to wagon, seen him awake and talking. Without that much, he’d have gone berserk.
He tried to start a conversation with Vihaan a few times, only to be told, “Later.”
To every inquiry about Yarif, Draylon received a curt, “He is in good hands.”
He’d be better in Draylon’s.
Given no alternative, Draylon rode in uncomfortable silence, camped in silence. He was finally allowed one brief visit with Yarif. Unknowing what to say, he kissed Yarif long, hard, and passionately, hoping actions conveyed all he couldn’t communicate with words alone.
It seemed to take forever before they returned to the camp where Draylon had met Vihaan a few weeks ago.
Only…
Three more banners now joined Glendor’s.
Draylon’s first act upon dismounting from the mule he’d come to both love and hate was to search for Yarif.
“He’s not here,” Vihaan said casually.
In custody or not, Draylon grabbed Vihaan’s collar, dragging him close, the other hand fisted and ready to fly. “If you’ve taken him to the emperor—”
Vihaan barked, “Hold! He’s not hurting me,” to his soldiers before Draylon ended up with a sword through his back. Then Vihaan quietly murmured, “Control yourself, and I’ll answer some of your questions.”
Draylon released his grip.
Vihaan stepped back, brushing at his clothes. “I assure you, he’s quite safe. I understand he hid a serious injury under his clothing and lost a great deal of blood. We’ve found an excellent local healer, better even than our own. He’s been taken there. Now, I must ask. What became of Jayra?”
Draylon’s heart ached for the news he must impart. Vihaan clearly saw the message on Draylon’s face before he could form words.
“Oh. I see. How?”
“We attacked Commander Illa’s group in the pass where you found us. She didn’t have soldiers with her but very badly trained mercenaries. I spoke with Jayra at the end of the battle. Two of her company survived the initial conflict, only to be taken at her side by an avalanche. All three died.”
“You retrieved your consort.”
Was Vihaan accusing Draylon of sacrificing many for one? “Yes.”
Vihaan nodded. “She was… special to me.” He blinked hard a few times. “Fitting that she should die as she lived, a mercenary through and through. Her body?”
“Delletinian custom states that the mountain keeps whomever it claims. We were forbidden from taking anything from the victims’ possessions too.” Except for the scroll, which Draylon wasn’t prepared to discuss now.
“We will mourn her loss and those she took with her.”
“I’m sorry.”
