CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Separating Silence

 

The day we received the letter of congratulations was a good one. The next day, less so. Much celebrating was done, and it filled me with… something. Perhaps it was happiness. All the same, it gave me hope that my bad luck was at an end.

News finally broke of the princes’ death, but the reported mechanism of their demise differed sharply from my knowledge of the affair. They were said to have died on the ship, yes, but as a result of an increase in pirate activity around the Serpent Isles. The treacherous waters around the isles had long been home to pirates. However, when Solas first started hammering out his empire, they appeared to swell greatly in number. It was rumored that he supported them in order to disrupt trade and reinforcements to his enemies. They remained a force to be reckoned with, and the news of his sons’ deaths was accompanied by an announcement that the imperial navy was being bolstered to deal with them. It appeared as though he’d used their deaths to deal with a problem he’d helped create. As much as I loved the irony, I was more pleased that my part in the colossal fuck-up remained unknown.

The celebrations soon came to an end, and our hard work got harder. We were having a great deal of difficulty keeping up with demand. Malvin and Smid were selling our ale as fast as we could brew it. Towards the end of winter, we purchased two additional taverns. They weren’t good taverns, quite the opposite. But the money we made from our deal with Malvin enabled us to renovate them, fit them out, and staff them. We left their names as they were—The Anchorage and The Horse and Cart. But we hung a sign over the bar that displayed the Bleeding Wolf icon, and it proudly read: “A Bleeding Wolf Tavern.” They served nothing but our ale, but their primary function was to increase our brewing capacity. Having won the imperial brewing competition, we would need them. Our victory put our ale in even higher demand than it had been before.

I was busier than a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest, but I always kept an eye out for ravens. I needed to have a word with the old man about some issues that were bothering me. Then, one came. It was early in the morning, and I was by myself. Marcus had spent the night at the Blue Lotus, and Neysa was not one for mornings.

The raven and I made our way along the forest path, this time to emerge in an open field. I wondered why the old bastard had me walk as much as he did, when he clearly had no difficulty in moving his house wherever he pleased. When I arrived, I walked in without knocking and sat myself down in front of his desk.

“A good morning to you, Saul.”

“And you.”

He sat back. “Such manners. To what do I owe this visit?”

“I think you know well enough.”

“I can’t read minds, Saul.”

“You can’t? Seems you’ve been doing well enough at it up to this point.”

Malakai shook his head. “I watch, I observe, I listen. That does not mean I can read your every thought, child. Now, come, tell me why you are here.”

“You offered us a mutually beneficial arrangement when we first met. I would take you up on that offer. With some conditions.”

Malakai smiled and folded his hands. “Go on.”

“Firstly, I want to be free of your bonds. I will help you, as long as it does not conflict with my own plans. But I would do it of my own free will. I am no one’s slave.”

“We are all a slave to something, child. But I can acquiesce.” I knew the instant he broke the bond. It was as if a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. “What else?” he asked.

“I would know if my brother is alive.”

“He is. Anything else?”

I ground my teeth. “Really? That is all you will say on the matter?”

“I told you—you will know more when the time is right. I can promise you this: your brother is alive. I won’t say he is well, but he is alive, and he will be just as he is now when the revelation comes. I have a clearer vision of the right order of things. If I told you where he was, you would drop what you are doing and chase after him.”

“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “What of the Ubraian crown and Ring of the Lion? Are they still in Solas’s possession?”

“They are in his vault, yes.”

“Okay,” I said. “What do you want from me?”

“Mostly, I want you to succeed, child. Our goals are in line with each other’s. I only have one request. When you head to the capital, Neysa will go with you. When Solas and I parted ways, he took off with some of my manuscripts. They, too, are in his vault, and she will return them to me. She will be able to read them; you will not. Besides, she will be of use to you in Morwynne.”

I really did not want her to come with us. We would almost certainly face danger, and I did not want to put her in harm’s way. But if I refused, he would certainly bind me again. I would not lose my freedom so soon after regaining it. “Agreed.”

“Any other questions?” he asked.

“This power of mine… what can you tell me of it?”

He steepled his fingers and leaned his elbows on the desk as he looked at me. “How much to tell…? Not much, I fear. I can tell you that your abilities are hereditary, and extremely uncommon. If another on this continent has the talent, I am unaware of it, and I know a great many people.” He was quiet for a long while, and I thought he was done. “One more thing. The Ring of the Lion, as your people call it, has a long history. I think you will find it was made with people such as yourself in mind.”

“Murderous ex-slaves?” I asked.

He sat back in his chair and lit his pipe. I got the sense he would not speak more on the ring, or my abilities, but I had one last question. “Do I have my free will? I mean, really have it? What is to stop you from using my true name against me if I choose to part ways with you?”

“Well, nothing would stop me, of course. But you falsely assume it’s something I would do without great need. People can be of far more use when they do a thing willingly, child. Perhaps that’s something you can try to adopt in your own life.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and my guilt twisted inside me. “Marcus, you mean?” He nodded. “Well… I’m sure you’re right. But I need him. If I broke our bond now, he would surely leave me. I… I can’t.”

“Child. You knew full well what I did to you. And yet, here you are. You’ve agreed to help me, and to let me help you, even though you know what I did, and know that I could do it again. Give him more credit. People are not as bad as you assume.”

I was living proof that he was wrong.

 

Later that day, I was cleaning tankards when Marcus came in. Evidently, the ladies of the Lotus had treated him well, as a huge grin split his face. “Afternoon,” I said. He nodded in turn, took a cloth, and joined me at my task. Malakai’s words had been twisting at me for hours at that point. My friend’s smile only added to my guilt. He really was a good person and a fantastic friend. But I was unsure of how much of that friendship had been forced on him. I surely did not deserve to have him by my side. We worked quietly for a long time, and the silence dug beneath my skin. The anxiety I felt continued to build until I could not take it anymore. My breathing was shallow, my skin felt cold, and my hands were shaking.

“Marcus,” I blurted out using his true name. “You are free to do as you wish.”

Marcus looked my way, an eyebrow raised. “Erm… thanks?”

It did not work, clearly. If it had, he would have noticed the weight lifted. I tried again. “Marcus, I free you of your bonds.”

“Saul, by the Gods, what are you on about?” I looked away and back to the counter I was polishing. I could feel his eyes on me. “Wait… wait a second. You thought you’d bound me? As Malakai did? As I assume you did to poor Darcy?”

I looked up, meaning to play it off as a joke, but his expression told me he was not to be joked with. I was utterly confused. Either I could not break the bond, or I had never succeeded in binding him with his true name to begin with. “I…” I faltered and just shook my head. There was nothing more to say. My father taught me: “The truth is like a lion; you don’t have to defend it. Let it loose, and it will defend itself.”

Marcus grabbed me by my shirt, lifted me from the ground, and held me a hand’s width from his face. His teeth were bared, and I felt his heavy breath on my chest. I had never seen him angry. It was a terrible thing to behold.

“You!” he spat. “How dare you!” He threw me across the counter. I hit the ground hard, and it knocked the wind out of me. Perhaps the truth was but a sheep, as it did a piss-poor job of defending itself.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself beneath a table and in a great amount of pain. Marcus was gone.

 

A month passed, and I was sure he was gone for good. I thought about hiring someone to fill his shoes, but they were large shoes, and not easily filled. Who would be mad enough to join me? Perhaps a mercenary, but even then, it would need to be a desperate man. No, mercenaries were a fickle lot. They washed like the tides, drawn to the heaviest purse.

Late one night, with the tavern closed, I sat out on the porch drinking something strong from an unlabeled bottle. Then, just like that, Marcus walked back into my life, but not as the same man. It was past curfew as he walked down the road, a shadow among shadows, like a ghost from the past. He sat himself down on the bench beside me, and we watched the night sky in silence for a small eternity. It was quite clear that something had changed in him. Or at the very least, our relationship had. How could it not?

“I’m sorry,” I said in a quiet voice. But compared to the silence that surrounded us and separated us, it rang through the night.

He looked my way, but the smile I was hoping for did not appear. His face was as a granite block, solid and unmoving. He looked away again, and the silence surged back to fill the void I created. It continued on for some time. I got up, went inside, and returned with two glasses. I filled them both and placed one beside Marcus. He grimaced when he took a sip. Whatever it was, it was strong, but nowhere near good. He frowned when he looked at me.

“You know you’re supposed to mix this, right?”

I shrugged. “I wasn’t drinking it for the taste.”

The silence swelled once more, but he spoke before I drowned in it. “I went to Malakai. I spoke with him that day that… you know. I know you loathe him, but he made quite the case for you.” He took another sip, pulled his face, and put the glass aside, shaking his head. “He took me to the Great Oasis. Kaleb has been busy. You have more than a thousand slaves waiting for you there, you know?”

“Huh….” I did not know.

“I spent the past month with them while I decided my future course. I trained them, and they learn fast. They’re eager to learn. Eager to fight. They hold you in the greatest esteem.” He shook his head. “But I guess they don’t know you. They are good people, Saul. They need a good leader. I’ll be frank, you are not that leader.”

“Fuck, Marcus, you don’t think I know this? I am completely out of my depth.” I emptied my glass in a few swallows, and it burned my throat. I could feel the alcohol evaporating from my mouth. “That’s why I need you. That’s why I need to find my brother. I care a great deal for my people, and I risk my life for them, time and time again. I will continue to do so until I see Ubrain free, like the lion that adorns our banner, or until I’m dead. I know which is the more likely, but that won’t stop me.”

We stared at each other for several moments. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll see this thing through with you. I’ll help you get the crown. If we can find your brother, I’ll help you free him and make sure the crown makes its way to him. And I will make damn sure that it stays off your own head. Your people need a good king. We are not friends, not anymore. I’m doing this for your people. Do we have an understanding?”

“We do.” If he thought I had any ambitions of becoming king, he was sorely mistaken. I felt relieved to have him beside me again, but things were not as they had been. I would miss my friend.