Here you'll find

 

Ravens, Owls and a nightingale

 

 

 

 

 

22. Preparations & Shocks

Oh for goodness' sake... Schean retreated back into the corridor, slumped to lean against the wall and tilted his head back with a quiet groan of despair. Where had that goddamn pigheaded creature, that paragon of Revnashi willfulness, gone this time?

In certain ways, he thought in exasperation, it would've been a lot better if Karos hadn't bounced back from his illness quite as spectacularly as he had. The first couple of days after the move from the Ghost Tower he'd still been meek and exhausted, but then his body had finally managed to overcome the infection for good and his condition had begun to soar. Very soon Karos, obviously fed up with just staring at the ceiling, had been taking every opportunity to sit up on the bed. Only a day or two later Schean had nearly got a heart attack when his supposedly still helpless charge had taken advantage of his momentary absence and helped himself to sit on the window seat. A few days more, and Schean had returned from a brief visit to the kitchen only to find the room empty.

Empty for the first time, that was. These little escapades had become a regular feature, and now Karos had once more sneaked out on his own. Schean had already made a round in the keep and checked every room where the man could possibly be, without any success. By now his heart was beating madly, and it was getting increasingly difficult to feign nonchalance. Honestly, his dark roommate had to be out of his mind! Karos was still far from fully recovered, couldn't climb one flight of stairs without pausing to rest at least once, and was prone to occasional bouts of dizziness. Where could he be? What if he started to feel faint when descending a staircase all alone? Surely he wouldn't have gone out?

Schean quickly pushed himself away from the wall, just in time to appear cool and casual in the eyes of two servants whose steps he'd heard moments before they appeared from behind a corner, and padded towards the stairs. He could also hear Lord Rhodan's voice from the day room, and tried to figure out how to peek in there without attracting the man's attention — the Lord just might happen to ask for Karos, and then what would he do? It would've been too much of a humiliation to admit that Schean had misplaced his patient... even though, technically speaking, said patient had managed to misplace himself all on his own.

The minstrel practically held his breath as he walked past the open double doors of the day room, then exhaled in relief and stepped aside to let yet another three servants pass. The big man had been too busy talking to his captains to notice the blonde shadow glide past, and that was all for the better. Schean's step quickened and he tried to decide where to start a surreptitious second round. He simply didn't want to believe that even Karos could be crazy enough to venture out, into the whirlpool that was the courtyard, and yet precisely that was looking more and more probable. But if he'd done that, how the hell was Schean going to find him there? He might just as well try to find a solitary needle in a very large haystack!

In fact Schean hadn't much regretted being too busy recently to go out much, for Deleon Castle was once again swarming with people. The troops stationed there were back, which meant that the servants had the usual plentiful amount of work in their hands, and quite a few of the soldiers were still lingering in the infirmary. They required extra care and attention, and also attracted visitors in the form of their luckier comrades and sweethearts who'd come to cheer them up. And on top of all that, Lord Rhodan had announced that the victory over Eregal and the subsequent treaty were events momentous enough to warrant a celebration, for which the preparations were also well underway. All this meant that the courtyard was milling with people, and there was still another element that added to the near-chaos: a slow but steady stream of carts and wagons that flowed back and forth between the big gate and the granaries located at the other end of the bailey.

The people who'd taken refuge by the walls of Deleon were beginning to trickle back to their homes, and everybody wanted to get moving as quickly as possible. Some of them had quite a distance to cover, and who knew how much extra work still lay ahead? They hadn't had time to complete the autumn works on their farms, not by a long stretch, and nobody even knew whether they'd still find their houses standing. They'd done their best to take along anything of any value upon their hasty retreat, but frustrated, disappointed armies had been known to torch houses and sheds before to vent their fury on property when no people were available. So there was no guarantee even that they'd have a roof over their heads to start with, let alone much else. And all the time winter was drawing nearer, the roads getting more slippery and heavier to tread, the days shorter, the need to go more urgent.

Hence all those carts lining up, and the hectic toiling at the granaries, and the stern faces of the bookkeepers overseeing that everyone got back their fair share of grain and vegetables and whatever they'd brought with them. Hence the courtyard that looked like a village square on a particularly lively market day. And hence Schean's despair right now, as he hesitated at the top of the stairs leading to the entrance hall and the main doors. If Karos had indeed gone out, onto the courtyard, he and Schean could well pass by each other within touching distance without even noticing it. Going out to look was a madcap effort, the minstrel just knew it. He wasn't nearly tall enough to spot a single person in that crowd!

But wait — perhaps he might have better luck if he tried to spot someone tall, who sported a distinctive mop of black curls, from higher up? The walls! Of course he'd go there, and from there he'd get a good eagle's eye view over the entire courtyard. Schean spun around and rushed to the other stairs, the ones leading him to the floor where he'd be at the same level with the wall tops. Why hadn't he thought of that at once? His soft shoes made a shuffling sound on the stone as he hurried to the door and flung it open so that a crisp wind tossed his fair hair around.

It hadn't been raining that day, and the passage was dry. Schean walked some distance further from the keep in search of a spot from where he'd have a good view over the courtyard, then stopped as if hit by a lightning. What was that lump, wrapped in dark woolen cloth, that he could see some way ahead? He sprinted towards the dark figure and nearly wept with relief as Karos turned his head to look at him, obviously hearing his steps.

"There you are!" Schean slowed down, irrationally out of breath. Karos was perched on the sloping recess inside one of the arrow-slits and huddled there, his dark cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders. "I was looking for you."

"I'm all right."

"No you're not!" Schean insisted, determined not to let the dismissive tone put him off. "You really shouldn't push yourself so hard. What if you fall from the stairs and crack your skull? Then all of the Wizard's hard work would've been in vain, and surely you don't want that?"

"I wanted some fresh air," Karos said moodily.

"I can understand that," the minstrel tried again. "But I'm worried that you have an accident, you know? There's nothing to be ashamed about if you're still not quite recovered. Should've at least told me you want to go out, so I could've come with you."

Karos glanced at him and turned away again.

"I know I'm not big enough to be of much use if you fall," Schean continued, intent on not letting him say anything. "But I could come with you anyway, and help you sit down for a while if you start feeling faint, or something. Or you could lean on my shoulder. I'm not quite as weak as I might look."

Another quick scowl.

"Won't we go in now?" Schean decided to switch tactics. "It'll soon be dinnertime, and then you need to get some rest. The party isn't that many days away, and I know that you want to be fit enough by then to join in!"

This time Karos sighed, and Schean frowned. "What's the matter?"

"Do you think he's going to go through with it?"

"Who — with what — oh!" Then the minstrel's face brightened. "Oh yes, no doubt about that. What, don't you think the Lord meant what he said?"

"Yes I do. But what will it mean?"

"That's something you'll have to figure out with him and the rest of your family."

Schean looked at the brooding young man with a small smile. When Lord Rhodan had returned from his campaign, jubilant but exhausted, the minstrel had finally understood why Karos had so much wanted to get stronger and quick. Even though the enforced dependence on the help of others had chafed on the proud, strong young man, that wasn't the only reason. No, he had wanted to meet his father standing on his own feet. Luckily the Wizard and the Lischell had joined forces with Schean on insisting that at least it would happen in his own room and not outside on the courtyard, and sternly told the bristling patient that he'd be forcibly carried back in if he chose to be foolish. Karos hadn't been foolhardy enough to disobey that command, but he'd nevertheless struggled to stand up and even pushed away Schean's supporting arm just moments before the heavy steps had reached the door.

The Lord's astounded face, when he'd entered the room a blink later, had made Schean's eyes moisten. Karos had addressed him as 'my Lord', but the big warrior had crossed the room in two strides. swept the youth into a tight embrace and called him 'my son', choking on words. Schean hadn't been the only one to shed a few tears on the occasion, although naturally nobody else would admit to such displays of emotion. But one thing had been made amply clear already then: Lord Rhodan had emphatically declared that he wasn't going to be an idiot any longer. In the forthcoming feast he would publicly acknowledge Karos as his lawful son.

Schean could understand why such a prospect would unnerve Karos, even though there was no discord to be expected from the Lord's so far three legitimate children. Bengor and Benella had been exuberantly happy to hear the news, and even Bailenn seemed to have forgiven his 'biggest brother' the somewhat rough treatment she'd received during their escape from Moydherr. Bengor would remain the Ranea, the heir, but Karos too would have to get used to a new position in the family, and a rather unprecedented one. He was eight years Bengor's senior and used to his independence. What would life be like from now on? Nobody could tell.

"Come with me," Schean tried again. "You must be tired after so much fresh air. Let's go to our room, I'll get us something to eat and you can then lie down. Mustn't push yourself too hard, remember? That's what the Wizard says as well."

Karos grunted but unwrapped his cloak enough to push himself up. He even accepted Schean's hand and got on his feet, swaying slightly. He was clearly tired, but Schean bit his lip not to say anything, merely moved a little closer as if by accident and felt a hand on his shoulder. Karos supported himself against the wall with his other hand as they walked back to the door and slowly climbed the stairs, then sank onto the bed with as much dignity as he could still muster.

Schean studiedly ignored his weakness and hurried back to the door.

"I'll get us dinner," he announced. "I'm hungry, and I bet you are too."

By the time he returned, Karos had had enough time to take off his cloak and boots, and was lounging against the pillows piled into a high stack behind his back. He was indeed hungry, and after a hearty meal he dozed off on the bed. Schean gently pulled a blanket over him and tiptoed out of the room. Better let Karos rest, and besides, by now Mioll probably would be free again to play with him.

Mioll... Schean swallowed as he hurried towards the chambers where the Lord and his family liked to spend their evenings nowadays. Their time together would soon come to an end, and he could only imagine how much he would miss the elder minstrel. But at least now they could still play together, talk together, and... well, maybe even spend a few nights together? Maybe Schean could finally leave his patient alone for a night or two before Mioll would be gone?

Lady Bialka had been teary with gratitude when Lord Rhodan had returned home and told her that he wasn't going to send her away against her will, but the latest news from Eregal had made her reconsider. It was soon obvious to everyone that her father and eldest brother had been the ones she'd been most afraid of, and a letter from Lord Bardioll, kindly delivered by Lord Rhodan, had made her even more thoughtful. Soon thereafter she had shyly asked if she could, after all, return to Eregal as her brother had entreated her to do, and preparations for her journey coincided with those for the feast. Thus the victory party was going to be a farewell party as well, and to Schean's dismay Mioll had decided to travel with the Lady and her daughters.

"Oh, I'm not doing it out of any overwhelming desire to stay with her and the kids," Mioll had said. "But my feet are getting itchy. I've spent such long times in one place now, and besides, this is a unique opportunity. Just think about it — I'll get to travel in a carriage! No walking mile after mile, no, I'll be really comfortable. That's a chance I don't want to miss."

But couldn't Mioll consider staying in Deleon, Schean had asked. Perhaps make little trips around every now and then to satisfy his wanderlust? Wouldn't that be enough?

"Little brother, I'm going to miss you too," Mioll had said with a sad smile. "But this is better. You'll never get anywhere with your tall and dark and handsome if I'm all the while hanging around here — and who knows, my own tall and dark and handsome might already be waiting for me, I need to get going! Don't worry, I'll be sure to drop by to see the Nightingale of Deleon whenever my journey leads this way!"

Schean sighed. All right, there was no denying that he was by now nurturing a gigantic crush on the 'tall and dark and handsome' who slept in his bed, but there wasn't much chance of him getting anywhere in any case, regardless of whether or not Mioll was around. And yet, he was a minstrel and could understand Mioll only too well. Deleon had become his home but Mioll didn't feel the same, and thus there was only one thing to do: Schean would stay, Mioll would go. But before that, they'd play and sing and have a good time together!

Quite a few hours had passed when he finally returned to the room, still smiling broadly. It had been a good night, and they had indeed played until their fingers were sore. Now he was ready to drop, and was therefore mightily surprised to see that Karos was wide awake and obviously about to go somewhere, for he had pulled his boots on and was just about to grab his cloak.

"Karos? Where do you think you're going?" Schean demanded, hands on hips.

"I want to have a bath," Karos replied.

"In the bathhouse?" Schean squeaked. "You won't make it that far, not on your own!"

"I want to go."

"All right." Schean could see that this was not a matter to be discussed. "At least I'll come with you then, just to make sure you won't hurt yourself."

Karos glared but didn't resist as Schean changed his indoor shoes into thicker boots and took his short cloak as well. It was getting late and the place was dark, but together they managed to negotiate all the stairs down until they reached the courtyard. Upon opening the door Schean was dismayed to notice that it had begun to rain heavily and tried to persuade Karos to abandon the plan, but Karos was adamant. He wanted a bath, tonight, and thus Schean just sighed a little and gave in.

Pouring rain was beating loudly down on the roof of the bathhouse as the two young men stripped naked in the dressing room. Karos was just a tad quicker due to his simple clothes, and Schean practically tore off his own shirt in a haste to follow him into the dark, slippery washing room. Karos had stopped at the door, Schean had barely time to open his mouth to ask if something was wrong when the other man moved, as if to take a step backwards, so that he walked straight into Karos' back hard enough to make him sway. For a tense moment Schean held his breath, muscles braced for action in case Karos should fall, then gasped when he was roughly pushed aside.

Schean knew that he should follow him, go after Karos who'd disappeared back into the dressing room, but his legs just didn't want to move anywhere. Nor could his brain spare a moment to tell them to get moving, because it was far too busy registering what his eyes were seeing.

Two men. Standing very close to each other — no, make that one man standing and the other one kneeling on the bench by the wall, one arm braced against the wall, a mussed head of dark hair resting against it. Bodies pressed tightly together, glistening wet in the dim light. Hips against ass, thighs between thighs, arms around waist, two hands disappearing between the kneeling man's legs. Amused dark eyes looking straight at Schean over a muscled shoulder. And another pair, piercing pale blue under a wet shock of blond curls that slowly rose from where it had been pressed between the dark man's shoulder blades.

Schean blinked. He swallowed. At last he managed to restart his heart, and at the same moment realized that he had no idea how long he'd been standing and shamelessly staring at the intimate and absolutely mouth-watering scene in front of him while Karos — yes, what was Karos doing?

"S-sorry," he managed and quickly ducked back into the dressing room, slamming the door closed behind him.

Karos, face tight and unreadable, was speedily pulling his clothes back on, and Schean dashed to his own pile of clothing.

"Wait, Karos!" he pleaded, then cursed when the lacing of his hose immediately decided to tangle itself around his fingers. "Karos, wait for me, please!"

His pleas had no effect on the stormily silent man, and before Schean had time to get halfway dressed, Karos had somehow got his boots on and vanished into the pouring rain at a speed that was truly astonishing for a convalescent. Schean, swearing in a mixture of Revnashi and his native Donyan all the while, wasn't an awful lot slower, but by the time he was clothed enough to venture out of the door, Karos had disappeared.

Schean ran into the middle of the courtyard and looked around, squinting in the rain that stung his eyes, feeling how cold water beat on his head, seeing nothing. Not a trace of Karos, nor was there anybody crazy enough to be out in this weather to have seen where he'd gone. Schean's shoulders sagged and hands balled into fists, then he walked straight to the side door leading to the keep and went in, mouth in a tight line.

He wasn't damn well going to look for Karos now, he decided, even though worry and despair were pounding madly inside him. He was supposed to take care of Karos, but damnit, Karos was no baby and he was no wet nurse! Since Karos was so keen on giving him the slip at this time of the night, well, he was free to do so. Schean was willing to go to quite some lengths to take care of things that were his responsibility, but right now he was too tired, not to mention upset, to really care. If Karos wanted to brood over the scene in solitude, he was welcome to do so.

And quite frankly Schean was just a little bit relieved, though very guiltily so, that he didn't have to face Karos right now, after what he'd just seen. He wanted to think about it as well, and he wanted to decide in peace whether or not he'd tell Mioll that the rumors about the delectable Count Daynar and his 'Angel of Death' were indeed true.

Main Jainah Revnash Dorelion Others Gallery