NOVEL: Vedran’s Hand, by Harper Kingsley [mm fantasy] – Chapter Two

Title: Vedran’s Hand
Author: Harper Kingsley
Genre: fantasy
Rating: mature
Contains: assassinations, duels, non-descriptive m/f and m/m.

Summary: A duel to the death is to take place between two unbeaten champions. The Emperor’s Hand, the man known only as Dragon Knight, has been tasked with giving out eighteen gold seals to men and women of his choice, allowing them to witness the legendary battle between Hezzero and Nasbeth. Everyone wants an invite, and they are willing to do whatever they have to in order to get one.

Meanwhile, machinations are going on behind the scenes and someone is planning for a new Emperor to be crowned. All they need is the death of Emperor Vedran Malvorta.

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CHAPTER TWO

With a groan, Dragon Knight dragged himself into wakefulness. His head pounded from the wine he’d drunk the night before and his nose wrinkled at the scent of stale sex that clung to his skin. He needed some khava and a bath to make him feel more himself.

Pulling the cord on the wall, he summoned a servant. “Bring me a pot of khava and a light meal to the baths,” he ordered.

The woman bobbed a nod and hurried off while Dragon was slipping his arms into his blue silk robe and felt around for his slippers with his feet. He wondered if his nakedness had embarrassed her, but really didn’t care.

Yawning, he made his way through the hallways and down the stairs to the palace baths. There were several men already there, but he ignored them. All he wanted was to be clean.

“Dragon Knight, so you’re back, are you?” the affable voice of Lord Ferendal Sorcha boomed.

Dragon blinked and looked to find the man seated across from him in the largest bathing pool. With an internal shudder at having to deal with the man so soon after waking, Dragon shrugged out of his robe and toed off his slippers before stepping naked into the water, hissing a little as he became used to the heat.

“I enjoyed my time in the courts of Hyneria, but I thought that it was time I returned home as my duties were completed,” Dragon said, laying down on the submerged bench.

“And what exactly were those duties?” Lord Herold Pendai asked suggestively.

“You know that I do not discuss my duties for the Empire with anyone but the Emperor,” Dragon reminded them.

“Oh, but Dragon Knight, surely you can tell us some of the other things you did,” Ferendal said. “Did you enjoy your time with the Hynerian king? It is said that he’s a good looking man, just your sort.”

Dragon’s muscles had gone tense, but he kept anything from showing on his face. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I quite understand what you’re talking about. Please explain.”

Ferendal waved a hand as though it didn’t matter. “I was just curious about how you spent some of your extra time at the Hynerian courts, that is all. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to… I just wondered if all the tales about the Hynerian king were true.”

Not looking at the man, Dragon said, “King Noa des’Alvez was a very gracious host extending every courtesy for the representative of a foreign power.”

“And did you extend every courtesy back?” Herold asked, the smirk obvious in his voice.

“I was polite,” Dragon duly replied.

“Polite, eh?” Herold chuckled a little. “Why don’t you slide over here and be polite to me?”

Dragon Knight sat up with a splash, glaring across the intervening space at the two laughing men. He could feel the other men in the back listening and watching, waiting to see how he would respond to the insults. “Would you care to clarify that sentiment a little more?” he asked, his voice almost painfully courteous even as his muscles trembled with the need to hurt. He could only be grateful that he hadn’t brought Silva Morte or the pools would have been ruined forever.

Herold waved his hand with a laugh. “No need to get upset, just a simple joke.” There was no fear in him; he truly didn’t believe that Dragon Knight could hurt him.

Dragon just looked at the man for a long moment, trying to get his control back. He knew that Vedran didn’t want him to fight with the lords of the Empire and he had always held to that. But Herold had insulted him and he wasn’t sure he should forgive it or even if he wanted to forgive it. Finally he just lay back down, letting the water wash through his pale hair. He closed his eyes and lay his hands on his stomach comfortably.

He had almost allowed himself to drift into complete relaxation when he felt a hand high on his thigh. His eyes snapped open and he glared at Herold. “Remove your hand immediately.”

The noble gave him a decidedly impudent look, a leer pulling his lips unattractively. “Oh, don’t be like that. They say you’re the Emperor’s Hand. So what part of you wraps around his hot little…”

There was no conscious decision made. It was as though a light had suddenly gone off in his head. When things cleared back up, Dragon blinked to find that he had thrust his hand completely through the man’s chest, the bloody heart clenched tight in his fist.

He stared into Herold’s wide eyes as the man aspirated his last bloody breath and began to slump forward, very much dead.

It was only a matter of course for him to pull his fist back out of the man’s chest, toss the bloody organ to one of Herold’s gaping friends, and rinse his hand off in the water. “Now that was rather unpleasant, wasn’t it? Perhaps one of you should return this mess to its family, hm?”

He rose dripping from the water, wrapping his robe around himself as he padded gently out of the room. He could hear the sudden tumult behind him, but he found that he didn’t even care. He knew that none of them would try anything with him now.

They were too afraid.

Not even the knowledge that there would be consequences could steal his satisfaction from him. He was tired of the whispers and rumors, and if they would not stop questioning his role in the Empire, at the very least they would cease to be so vocal in their wondering.

And no one would dare to insult the Emperor in his presence ever again. Not if they valued their life.

* * *

He was meeting with his ministers when a messenger hurried into the sitting room and delivered a scroll. The red ribbon denoted that it was fairly important.

“Please excuse me,” he said, pulling off the ribbon and tossing it on his desk in front of him. He drew in a silent breath before breaking the seal. “Enjoy the tea service.”

He ignored the curious looks the ministers gave him and they turned their attentions to the rather lavish bounty of pastries and sliced fresh fruit.

Vedran unrolled the scroll and began to read. He could feel his eyebrows trying to climb toward his hairline and his mouth went dry.

Dragon Knight had killed Lord Herold Pendai in the baths in a brutal display of strength.

There was no doubt in Vedran’s mind that he was going to be hearing from his lords. They would be baying for Dragon’s blood. Not that he would ever allow them to have a single drop.

He rolled the parchment back up and leaned forward to place it in the black lacquer box he kept for just that purpose. It would stay with the other important scrolls and remind him of the day Herold Pendai had been silenced forever.

He smiled at his ministers. “Now, where were we?”

First Minister of Agriculture Lord Daesun Retta cleared his throat and placed the cucumber sandwich he’d been eating on the edge of his small plate. He fastidiously wiped his hands clean on a napkin when he spoke, “We were discussing the famine in the South Province.”

“Ah, yes,” Vedran said, forcing his mind away from thoughts of Dragon Knight. “Authorize them grain and rice from the Imperial Storehouse. Also ensure they receive some dried pearapples to prevent sickness. They will need the fruit.”

“As you wish, Sire.” Retta bowed his head, then made a note in his journal.

“Deploy some troops to ensure order is maintained as well,” Vedran said. “We do not need any kind of situation.”

He remembered the food riots that had taken place a decade before. Numerous people had been hurt and nine people had lost their lives. He never wanted to see a repeat of a situation like that, not if he could stop it.

“On to other things,” he said, looking each minister in the face as he spoke. “Please make all of the preparations for the upcoming duel. We will be having some foreign delegates in attendance and it would be best if we made a good impression.”

“Of course, Sire,” Mattimeo Arreck, the Second Minister of Domestic Affairs, hastily agreed, nodding his head. “It will be as you wish.”

Vedran gave him a close look, taking in the drop of sweat on his wide brow and the nervous tremble to his upper lip. Once he was sure he’d made himself very clear, he lifted his stylus and began writing on the pad of paper on the desk in front of him. He had so very many things on his schedule that he had to make notes throughout the day.

He glanced up. “Is everything prepared for the arrival of the foreign delegates?”

“Yes, Sire,” Second Minister Arreck said. “Quarters have been arranged for them and guides have been assigned for each group. Preparations for tomorrow’s ball have already begun.”

“Good.” Vedran nodded. “If that’s all, you may see yourselves out.”

They rose in a flurry of formal work robes and bowed their way out, none daring to turn their back. He watched them go, his lips a hard line as he controlled himself until the door clicked shut behind them and he was finally alone.

Vedran rose to his feet with a sigh and walked from around his desk to go over to the large window that faced the inner courtyard garden. There were so many beautiful flowers and trees that he could stand here for hours on days when he simply needed to get away from the stress.

This garden view was the closest he ever came to the freedom he’d enjoyed in his youth.

He looked down at the large blossoms he’d had the gardeners populate the flowerbed outside his window with. Flashy orange flowers that instinctively drew the eye and had been extremely rare before he’d shown an interest in them.

Such an odd looking flower, yet so striking as well. Six vivid orange petals folding back like a star with black fuzzy stems rising from the centers. They were beautiful, but that wasn’t why they had become his favorite.

No, they were his favorite flowers because each blossom embodied the memories of his past. Each flower reminded him of the sweetest of summers and the halcyon days he refused to lose forever.

Focusing on the flower closest to the window, he couldn’t help remembering the first time he’d seen a tiger lily.

It had been shortly after Dragon had come to him and they were still just getting to know each other. They had been staying at the Black Hills Training Camp where he had been stationed until he was eighteen.

He had been panting lightly as he led Dragon through the woods on a cool down walk. He hated to admit it, but even at twelve years old Dragon Knight had been in phenomenal physical condition and was was quick to pick up skill with a sword.

“Here it is!” he called, leading the younger boy into a forest glade that had a narrow stream running through it.

“It’s good,” Dragon Knight said. His head was tipped back as he looked around and Vedran couldn’t help smiling. That was high praise coming from Dragon.

It really was a picturesque glade with verdant green grass and plenty of sunlight and water for flowers. Vedran had discovered it with Kameris and it had quickly become one of his favorite places. Its location a few miles from Black Hills also meant that it was well-within his security perimeter, so he was allowed to wander around freely, but didn’t have to deal with Imperial Guards all over him.

“This is great!”

Vedran laughed as Dragon scampered back and forth, poking into every nook and cranny and touching everything. He looked so happy, his face lively and bright.

Vedran watched him for a while, then finally turned away and walked over to the stream, pulling his shirt off over his head. His skin prickled with chilled-sweat and he hurriedly knelt and began splashing water on his face and neck. He washed his arms and chest quickly, then pulled his shirt back on, shivering slightly.

It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly, but there was still a briskness to the air.

He looked around until he found the perfect patch of grass and lay down on his back. He thought about taking a nap, but he didn’t feel tired, just lazy.

The clouds were so puffy and white against the rich blue of the sky. It really was the perfect day for cloud watching and daydreaming.

His vision was suddenly blocked by a close-up blur of vivid orange. He had to move his head a little to the side to see that it was a mass of strange flower blossoms.

“And what is this?” he asked.

The flowers moved back a little and Dragon’s shy, upside-down grin took their place. “I found these and wanted to give them to you. They’re very pretty.”

“That they are.” Vedran slowly sat up, giving Dragon and his flowers time to get out of his way. He turned to face the boy, who looked faintly grubby yet triumphant.

Dragon looked at the flowers contemplatively. “What are they?”

“I’m not sure,” Vedran said, standing up. “We can look them up when we go back to camp.”

“Do we have to go so soon?” Dragon asked, his mouth making a little moue of displeasure.

Vedran glanced up at the sun, gauging the time, then sighed. “I think so. If we disappear for too long someone is bound to think that something has happened to us. I’d really rather not have a bunch of guards burst upon us.”

They lingered long enough for Dragon to use the stream to wash his dirty hands and face, then they slowly walked back to camp. Dragon bounced around like an excited puppy and Vedran really couldn’t have helped his indulgent grin if he tried.

Later they placed the flowers in a vase and put them on the table in front of them while Vedran paged through a heavy book of plants. Dragon Knight sat next to him, pretending to read a smaller book while really playing with the red tassel he’d stolen off one of the curtains.

“Here they are,” Vedran said in triumph, tapping a picture.

“Let me see!” Dragon nudged in close against his arm and Vedran obligingly tilted the book toward him.

He could see Dragon’s mouth awkwardly shaping the words as he tried to read and waited patiently. “T-tiger… lily…” Dragon grinned at him. “They’re tiger lilies.”

“I guess so.”

Dragon reached out with a careful finger to delicately brush one curled petal. “They’re so pretty.” He smiled at Vedran. “I picked them for you because you deserve beautiful things.”

“That’s so thoughtful of you,” Vedran said. He was honestly touched by the gesture because it was so rare that anyone really thought of him, rather than the position he would someday fill. “Thank you.”

It was a memory he guarded in his heart as the years passed and their lives changed. Dragon’s bright grin and the sweet innocence that had seemingly been lost forever.

Standing in his office, Vedran couldn’t resist reaching a hand toward the tiger lilies outside, but instead of velvet petals, he pressed his fingertips against cool glass. They suddenly seemed so far away.

Dragon had been such a sweet boy that had always tried so hard to please the people around him. And like the tiger lilies Vedran could see but not touch, Dragon Knight had changed with the passage of time, hiding that sweetness away until some people had voiced doubt about whether he even had a heart.

Yet whenever Vedran saw the tiger lilies, he was reminded of the boy Dragon Knight used to be and the kindness the man hid deep inside. And that was why they had become his favorite flower.

Each bloom was a memory and a regret. Promises kept and unkept, some left unvoiced but resounding deep within him.

He kept the tiger lilies around him all the time because he wasn’t allowed to do the same with Dragon.

Vedran sighed and turned away from the window, slowly walking back toward his desk. Sometimes he dreamed about what his life would have been like if he had been just a man. There were so many things he would have liked to see and do.

But he was the Emperor. His life was tied forever to his people and there was no breaking those chains. Not even for all of his regrets and might-have-beens.

* * *

He received quite a few frightened glances when he entered the ballroom. It seemed that the palace gossips had spread word about what had taken place in the bathing chamber.

Dragon had spent the last day and a half languishing in his quarters, so this was the first time anyone had seen him since the “incident.” Or cold-blooded murder, as it had been bandied about, not that he cared overly much.

He’d spent his time finishing a book he’d been meaning to read and had received a marvelous massage that had left him limp and lazy. He hadn’t felt so relaxed in a very long time, and even though some of his tension was already returning to him, he still felt looser than he had been.

For a while there, he’d felt drawn so tight that it was a wonder more people hadn’t ended up dead.

The palace tailors had delivered a set of beautiful clothes and he felt sinfully decadent as he strolled through the mass of courtiers toward where he’d spotted Kameris’ head above the crowd. Silk always felt so nice against his skin and green was definitely his color when contrasted with the rich, almost wet looking black.

“And how has your evening been?” he asked, coming to stand next to his friend.

Kameris turned to give him a shrug. “I’ve eaten. I’ve drunk. And I think I might dance with some lovely ladies soon.” He quirked an eyebrow at Dragon Knight. “Care to tell me about the excitement you had yesterday?”

Dragon shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. A very foolish man dared speak offensive words about the Emperor. He paid with his life.”

Kameris winced. “What kind of fool would insult the Emperor around you?”

“Lord Herold Pendai,” Dragon said. “It was the last mistake he will ever make.”

“He never was the smartest of men,” Kameris said, shaking his head. “I suppose I will have to offer condolences to his grieving family.”

Dragon scoffed loudly, then took a quick step forward to grab a drink from the tray of a passing server. He turned to face Kameris. “Why bother?” he asked, taking a sip.

“There’s no reason to be cold,” Kameris said. “Those poor children are fatherless now.”

“And maybe they won’t grow up to be treasonous to the Empire,” Dragon said, arching an eyebrow coldly. “If they’re lucky they will be loyal, productive members of society. Otherwise they will just end up like their father.”

He could feel the shock of the people covertly listening to them, but he was sure that his message had been received. He had no mercy for those that were disloyal to the Emperor and he didn’t care if the person he killed was an adult or a child. A treasonous dog was a treasonous dog, and his blade was always sharp.

He saw Kameris flick his eyes past his shoulder and smoothly turned, taking a simultaneous step backward until he was standing next to his friend.

If there was one thing no one expected to have come up to them at a ball, it was a Paladene Warrior-Priest. Even without visible weapons, the tall, bald-headed man exuded an air of danger, every visible inch of his skin marked with the swirling rune tattoos that protected him in battle. He might have been handsome if he didn’t have a hugely disfiguring scar bisecting his face–it looked as though someone had tried to cut him in half starting from the top.

“May we assist you?” Dragon asked politely. The man had been staring too long for comfort.

The Warrior-Priest nodded his head gracefully, his plain brown robe fluttering around him. “I recognize you as the Dragon Knight. I am Kaerden Llyang. You slew my master in armed combat.”

“Perhaps you should be more specific,” Dragon said, giving him a bland look. “I participated in several skirmishes and killed many.”

Kaerden barked a bitter laugh. “So it is true. You are the unkillable warrior you have been named.” He bowed his head briefly, showing Dragon Knight the scarred top of his skull. “I greet you most humbly. We of Paladene salute your remarkable powers in battle and offer you every respect.”

“I have great respect for the Paladene people as well,” Dragon said coolly. “You are a nation of strong warriors and I would not want to face you in battle. It does nothing for one to kill so many of your strongest warriors when they would be better served in protecting your nation’s border from the demon menace.”

“Your words are truthful,” Kaerden admitted. “We too wish nothing more than peace between our nations.”

“That is very good.” Dragon waved his arm. “Please enjoy this celebration of peace. Let it remind you later of how our two peoples should get along like friends and allies.”

“May you always be so wise, Dragon Knight.” Kaerden gave a respectful bow. “I shall take my leave of you.” He nodded once, then spun on his heel and strode back through the crowd toward where he’d left his own people.

“Don’t you think that was perhaps a little rude?” Kameris asked quietly.

Dragon shrugged. “I was never very good at making speeches and indulging in pleasantries. I am the Emperor’s Hand. I am not his Voice.”

Kameris sighed and turned to take a plate from a passing server. He nibbled on a bite of cheese as he spoke, “You are an incredibly frustrating man, but perhaps you speak the truth. I have never noticed that you possessed any skill in debate.” He chuckled. “In fact, if you didn’t have such an amazing skill with a blade, I rather think you might have had to seek a career in some form of manual labor.”

“I swear to you that I am not that bad. I’ve had the same education as you’ve received.”

Kameris chucked. “Yes, but you always excelled far more in the physical arts than any other pursuits.”

Dragon rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You’re lucky you’re my friend.”

He fought the urge to duck away when Kameris slung a companionable arm around his shoulders. “I tell myself that every day.” Kameris’ eyes lit up when he spotted something across the room and he pulled away, nearly tossing his empty plate toward a passing servant. “If you’ll excuse me, I see some exceedingly attractive young women just crying out for my attention.”

Kameris slapped him on the shoulder and strode off with a purpose. It made him smile as he watched Kameris approach a group of giggling, fluttering maidens.

Even from clear across the room, Dragon could see him pouring on the charm. It made him shake his head as he drifted his own way through the crowd, barely noticing as they parted before him like a frightened school of fish before a lazy shark.

* * *

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said honestly.

Selestra smiled, brushing her free hand down her pale blue gown. The seamstresses had spent hours sewing on the small gems that sparkled and caught the light as they passed through the double doors to much fanfare and bowing. Her dark hair had been swept up in some complicated manner that had it looking like waves against the shore of her crown.

“Thank you,” she said. Her stormy blue eyes looked warmer than usual in the amber light and Vedran couldn’t help reflecting on how beautiful she looked, her edges softened somehow. Usually there was something so hard about her, sharp and cutting; tonight that had all been smoothed away and she seemed to him to be much better company.

They strolled through the parted crowd toward their golden thrones, her hand on his arm and their every footstep measured.

The Emperor and Empress of Astoria climbed the short steps and turned to sit upon their thrones. A breath caught and held through the crowd released and the processions began, the herald announcing each country’s embassy as they approached.

Already Vedran could tell that it was going to be a long evening.

Some instinct had him turning his head as Dragon Knight’s warm presence appeared at his side, standing close to his throne. “How has your evening been?”

Dragon quirked his lips, his green eyes warm on Vedran’s. “Tolerable.”

Sitting there with his Empress on the throne at his right and Dragon on his left, Vedran finally felt as though he could relax. Some breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding released and he was able to face the processions of foreign dignitaries with a suitable amount of gravity.

Things moved quickly, though he saw out of the corner of his eye that Dragon wasn’t really paying attention to the ambassadors. He was very conscious of any possibility of attack, but he could really have cared less about the very important men and women themselves.

It sent a feeling of uncontrollable fondness through Vedran. There was a very good chance that Dragon was never going to change, and that would be all right.

Vedran could handle all of the political intrigue as long as Dragon Knight was there to protect him.

Then the Paladene ambassador was there with a handful of Warrior-Priests at his back. Vedran had met the man before–some cousin of a cousin of the king–but what he really wasn’t liking at the moment was the way the man’s eyes immediately went to Dragon Knight and lingered there.

“It is a pleasure to meet such a powerful lord,” the ambassador said, though his eyes kept flicking to Dragon, “and your legendary warrior. Already you have become part of many of our stories. Your name is well known far across the land, the unkillable Dragon Knight.”

Vedran gripped the arm of his throne tightly, glad that his sleeve would cover the white tension of his knuckles. He felt a surge of something go through him, a dark emotion that made him want to lash out at the man.

“I would never go so far as to say that I am unkillable.” Dragon’s face was calm and there was barely any inflection to his voice. “Instead, I would say that I am simply strong in my convictions.”

“And what are those?” the Paladene ambassador asked. His eyes were as avid as a bird, hungry things that wanted to devour all that they saw.

In return, Dragon Knight’s eyes were like gimlets in his expressionless face. “I believe in my country and my people. Most of all, I believe in my Emperor and the vision he has for us.”

“Your loyalty is commendable.” The ambassador looked at Vedran. “You should be pleased to have such a loyal and capable servant.”

Vedran felt a bit put out, though he didn’t let it show on his face or in his voice. “I am very pleased with him.”

A few more pleasantries were exchanged before the ambassador drifted off, leaving a bad taste in Vedran’s mouth. There had just been something so unpleasant about the man.

“I see you made quite an impression on the Paladene people,” he said, barely turning his head.

Dragon’s lips quirked into a slight half-smile. “They are simply easily impressed.”

“So modest,” Vedran said.

Dragon’s laugh was rich velvet. “You are probably the only one that has ever thought so.”

“I’m possibly the only one that knows just how kind-hearted you are,” Vedran replied.

“You look at me through shrouded eyes.” Dragon shook his head ruefully. “I find that I like that vision of me the best.”

Vedran wanted to reach out his hand and brush his fingers against Dragon’s, to remind him that he was just a man and not a legend. “You have never changed,” he said. “Not in my eyes.”

They stayed like that: Vedran on his throne, and Dragon Knight at his side. It was a peaceful moment that Vedran was glad to add to his memories of his best friend.

Then the moment was broken as Selestra commanded in her brittle voice that the dancing recommence.

/CHAPTER