The War Gift - part 11

There was an awful pounding in his head when consciousness returned to him, and his throat was severely parched.  It took several minutes of disjointed memories and a struggle to think clearly before Cailan put together the aspects of where he was and why his head hurt so much.

Still strapped to the chair, he was now uncomfortably on his side on the floor.  He deduced that Killian’s blow to his head had knocked the chair over and the man had no care to put Cailan upright again.  He was in a mess and he knew it.  At least one good thing was that the Berring prince didn’t appear to be in the room with him. 

Cailan assumed he couldn’t be far away though.  Neither Jarek nor the rest of the royal family knew of the man’s presence in the country.  Even if the man hadn’t admitted to being up to no good, just knowing he was hiding himself would have made Cailan believe there was deception planned. 

Through his jumbled brain, he tried to figure out exactly what Prince Killian and the Berring delegation wanted from Cylandrea.  Clearly it wasn’t any type of disaster relief since Killian had confessed to the rumors of disaster in Berring being just that—rumors.

So what plans had Killian alluded to?   They’d brought Comley as a ‘gift’—and Cailan was pretty sure the man’s hair color was spell work now.  But that meant that they knew that silver hair would be important to the Cylandrean people and the deliberate deception of the royal family was necessary.  Why though?

It was really hard to think logically when his head pounded so much, but he continued to try.  If they knew silver hair was important, then they must be familiar with the prophecies surrounding a silver haired individual. 

That made Cailan rather irrationally jealous since he personally knew so little about them, but he refused to dwell on that.  He tried to remember what Jarek and the royal family had said about the prophecies.

They all focus on the impact a silver haired man can have on the country.

Jarek said that the ‘silver’ person will be aware of things others are blind to.  The royal family thinks I might fulfill that because I see color amongst the black in their hair.  But does that really mean anything?

Prince Sem said something too.  What was it?  “Some of the prophecies say that the silver man will only be ‘known’ by the second son.”

The meaning of that hit Cailan in the gut in a way he hadn’t realized when the words were first spoken.  A sexual nuance was implied in the word “known”.  It meant that Cailan’s sexual activities could only be shared with Jarek if he was, in fact, the silver-haired man from the prophecies.  He wasn’t convinced that he was the fulfillment, but if those ancient words did apply to him, then Cailan realized his current predicament was even more serious.  He hadn’t doubted what Killian meant by ‘enjoying’ him.  If the man did succeed in forcing himself on him, then there was no way Cailan could fulfill the prophecies even if he was the one that had been anxiously waited for.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered to himself.  That was going to be extremely hard since he couldn’t even get himself off the floor.

The sound of approaching footsteps set Cailan’s heart racing.  He took a quick, deep breath to try to calm himself before letting his body go lax and his eyes closed, pretending to not yet have awoken from the strike to the head.

The door opened and he felt eyes on him before someone said, “He’s still out, my liege.”

“Good.  Get the scrolls,” the voice of Prince Killian replied.

“Do you want me to take them to the deck?”

“No, I can’t risk damage to them yet.  Spread them out on the desk.”

“But sire,” the unknown man spoke up, “What if the boy wakes and hears?”

“He’s out cold, and I doubt his intellectual abilities extend to understanding ancient prophecies even if he did wake.  He’s a concubine, Marxis.  They aren’t known for their intelligence.”

Cailan would have punched the man in the face if it was an option.  Instead he remained as still as possible, keeping his breathing shallow and quiet.  There was the sound of rustling and papers being unfurled.

“What do we know from the palace eyes?” the man, Marxis, questioned.

“It’s been confirmed that he was born that way,” Killian replied.  “And there is suspicion that he fulfills this part.”

Marxis read aloud whatever the Berring prince referred to. “’Colors he sees to which others are blind’.  I don’t understand that.”

Comley thinks he might be able to see through the spell since he’s not Cylandrean-born because after the meal this morning the servants spoke of several sorcerers being called to the palace,” Killian explained.  “That’s why it was necessary to remove that one.  We can’t risk him seeing anything, or Leader Jarek bonding to him anymore.”

“What about the sorcerers being brought in?  Will they be able to see through to Comley’s blonde hair?” Marxis asked, his trepidation evident.

“Only if they know the spell that was used to make him silver.  We did our research, Marxis.  There isn’t even a similar spell in Cylandrea, so they can suspect all they want, but they cannot prove it.”

“What if it’s too late as far as the concubine goes?  We can separate him from the king’s brother, but if a physical bond has already been created, then it’s less likely Jarek will be able to bind himself to Comley.”

“It’s not too late.  It was overheard that Jarek told the king that he had not claimed the Artenian yet.  Something about waiting for the boy to be ready.”  There was a scoff with that comment.  “I don’t plan to give our sixth-born prince that option.  In any case, with him gone and Jarek believing he’s run away, it leaves Comley available to seduce the war leader.”

“What of the other parts of the prophecies?” Cailan heard Marxis inquire. 

“That’s why I wanted to look at the scrolls again.  We need to make it seem like Comley fulfills them.”

There was the sound of something being hit, making Cailan flinch and then desperately hope that no one saw his subtle movement.

“This is aggravating!” Killian complained.  “Too many details cannot be confirmed until after they would occur, but we want to prevent them happening.”

“We are preventing some things, sire,” Marxis uttered consolingly.  “There is no heir born yet.  The Princess Sana is available.  And if you penetrate the Artenian, then Jarek is likely to reject him because it is believed that only the second born son of the king is allowed to claim the silver-born.”

“I know, and I would take care of that loose thread right now if he was awake.”

There was an alarming laugh that came from the man called Marxis.  “Why wait till he’s awake?  It’s much easier when they’re unconscious.”

A deep chuckle emanated from Berring’s prince.  “True, but it’s much more fun when they squirm.”

Marxis laughed his agreement.  “That it is.  Do you wish to keep him as he is for now?  If not, it would be a good time to reposition him.”

“True.  I would like him already on the bed when I’m ready for him.  Undo the ties, Marxis, but be careful not to jostle him, and let me know if he appears to be waking.  We’ll bind him again when he’s on the bed.”

Cailan was sure his heartbeat could be seen through his tunic.  The pounding of it was as loud in his ears as the painful pounding in his head from the blow he’d taken.  Still, he remained as still and limp as possible.  This would likely be his only chance for escape, and it was a slim one.  He was in no physical state to fight off both men, and he didn’t even know where he was, but he knew that getting back to Jarek was imperative.

The chair was set upright and the motion churned Cailan’s stomach, but extreme willpower kept him from giving into the need to purge himself.  Hands brushed his clothes as the ropes were cut away.  His arms were freed first, but he kept still waiting for the moment his legs had the restraints removed as well.  Letting his head hang limp allowed him the freedom to barely squint his eyes open without being seen, so he knew the moment the ropes were completely detached.

This was his one chance.  Springing up, the two men fell back in surprise.  The sudden movement almost made Cailan fall as well, but he pushed through the lightheadedness and grabbed the chair he’d been sitting in, swinging it at Marxis who was the closer of the two.  The impact broke the chair and sent the man unconscious to the floor. 

Prince Killian was a bigger problem because the broken chair was no longer a viable weapon.  From the corner of his eye Cailan spotted an unlit oil lamp.  He grabbed it and threw it at the quickly approaching man.  Killian instinctively put his arms up to block the object.  It shattered on impact and Cailan took the fleeting opportunity to make a run for it.  He dashed to the door, making it slam against the outer wall as he burst through. 

There was no time to calculate a destination.  ‘Away’ was all that was in his mind.  Running down a narrow hall led to a short stairwell that he climbed quickly but clumsily as his head swam with pain and made him dizzy.  He heard Prince Killian shouting, but he didn’t stop or pause.  Getting to the top of the stairs revealed why he’d felt the odd sense of movement while tied in the room. 

He was on a sailing ship.

That revelation brought a moment of panic even as he continued his run from Berring’s malicious prince.  How far out to sea was he?

Reaching as far as he could go brought him to the bow of the ship.  He could see land.  The ship wasn’t moored closely like those ships he could see closer to the land and that flew the Cylandrean flag, but this one that he was on was not moving, so it was anchored and not sailing away.

A shout of “Grab him!” made Cailan look over his shoulder.  Prince Killian and two other men, career sailors from the looks of them, were charging toward him, no more than thirty feet away.  They’d reach him in seconds and he knew there would not be another opportunity for escape.  Taking the only option, he jumped over the ship’s bow and in seconds felt the chill of water surrounding him.

The temperature change was a shock to his system.  He kicked sluggishly and his head broke to the surface, but his vision was growing dark and he only had the strength to gasp a breath before he was again sucked under into blackness.

*****

There was no slow or pleasant wake up for Cailan from the darkness; just disorientation and the painful slap of a hard palm against his face.

“Wake up, concubine, and do your duty,” a rough voice insisted as fingers manhandled him.

Cailan forced his eyes open and blurrily saw the red hair of Prince Killian close to his face.  Another slap to his face made him groan, causing the other man to laugh.

“That’s right,” Killian mocked.  “Let’s get these clothes off.”

Cailan felt his wet clothes being tugged and he lifted his arms to push the other man away.  They were roughly grabbed and shoved over his head.  Cailan tugged ineffectively at the grasp, cursing himself for being weak but unable to put forth more effort between the throbbing in his head and the blurriness of his vision.  His whole body felt heavier than stone and it was all he could do to weakly struggle against the weight of Killian’s body being pressed against him while rendering him naked.

“My liege!” A voice called anxiously from outside the room, making the man over him curse.

“I am not to be disturbed!” he shouted.

“There is a boat approaching!”

Killian growled and pushed off of Cailan, shouting orders as he did so.  “You know what to do!  Raise anchor and set sail!  We’re the fastest ship in these waters!  We’ll head to Caribbie Caves and lose them!”

He tied Cailan’s hands together and his feet to the end of the bed as he yelled, and then slapped the young prince’s face one more time.  “Spared for now, catamite prince, but you’ll be mine before the end of the day.”

Cailan prayed that wouldn’t be true, but being tied naked to a bed did not offer much hope.  He felt the boat rock as the anchor was raised, and there were shouts as the ship started moving through the waters.  The room tilted and Cailan would have fallen out of the bed if he hadn’t been tied to it.  Instead he felt a sharp pain cut into his side. 

He whimpered as he shifted to see what was causing the pain.  It was glass; a sharp piece that must have come from the lantern he’d broken earlier.  It had cut into his side, leaving blood on the bed, but also providing hope to Cailan’s jumbled head. 

Killian had tied his hands together and then stretched the rope through a bar at the bed’s headboard, but it had all been done quickly and enough slack had been made that Cailan was just barely able to get his fingers to grasp the sharp piece of glass.

Once in his fingers though, Cailan had no way to actually use the glass to cut into the rope.  He looked around at what he could reach for ideas.  The best he could come up with was trying to secure the glass between the mattress and wooden bed frame.  It didn’t provide a very stable positioning, but by being careful Cailan was able to start sawing through the rope strand by strand.

Several minutes of patient work and an ear for any unwelcome visitors brought reward.  The last thread of rope broke, releasing Cailan’s hands and allowing him to reach for the knots at his feet.

His fingers were cold, stiff, and lacking blood flow from his binds, so it was again slow work to liberate himself, but eventually the only proof of his bindings was the rope burn and abrasions on his skin.

Survival told him he needed to escape as fast as possible, and he heeded that instinct.  He took only a few seconds to pull on his wet leggings, knowing if anyone saw him in the nude, his escape would be known immediately.  Leggings without a tunic actually gave him more of a sailor’s look and he needed any advantage he could get, although the cut at his side was bleeding sluggishly and would definitely draw notice if he passed anyone.

Quietly he opened the door and looked down the narrow hall.  No people were present, but he could hear the shouts of sailors and orders being given by Prince Killian.  He shuddered just hearing the man’s voice and knew he’d have to find a way off the ship without heading toward the deck. 

Stealthily moving down the corridor in the opposite direction he’d run earlier brought him to a dead end…or what he thought was a dead end.  There were no rooms to hide in, but there was a ledge he could climb out on.  He did so carefully, noting he was well hidden from the activities on deck, but that it was at least a twenty-foot drop into cold water that had left him unconscious once before.  It was his best shot though, and as he looked out he could see a Cylandrean marked ship attempting to catch up to this one that Killian captained.  It was already obvious that Killian’s was the faster ship, but Cailan thought if he could get into the water undetected, then he might be able to make the swim to the other vessel.

Praying for strength, Cailan took a deep breath and jumped, keeping his body taught so as to make as little splash as possible.

The water was still very cold, but being chilled from his earlier jump made the change not as shocking.  When he surfaced, he took a moment to listen and see if his jump was detected.  Thankfully all he heard was shouted commands and the swears of men who had spent their lives at sea.

He started to swim, his body still feeling heavy and his head hurting, but the adrenalin was in his system fully and his goal to make it to the Cylandrean vessel kept him focused. 

The swim seemed to take forever and his strength began failing with every stroke and kick, but he finally got within sight of the lookout man in the crow’s nest and the sound of a voice yelling “man overboard!” was like music. 

Almost immediately on the heels of those words came a more frightening proclamation. 

“Shark!”

As if the creatures had timed it, Cailan saw a fin break water not ten feet away.  He realized immediately that the cut in his side would have been letting blood out during his entire swim and was probably drawing sharks from miles around.  For a moment he froze, but then jerked out of the way when one of the large creatures swam by him much too close for comfort.

Panic driven energy burst into his arms and legs and he struck out again for the Cylandrean vessel, even knowing his likelihood of making it onboard was slim.  He focused on nothing else but the distance between him and the ship until the smooth skin of a shark brushed against his feet.  He turned sharply to try to get his body out of the way, and then saw three fins slicing through the water’s surface toward him. 

Now frozen, he could do nothing more than watch their approach in horror.  Just as he closed his eyes and prayed the bites wouldn’t be as painful as he feared, two sets of strong hands grabbed his arms and hauled him up into a dinghy. 

“We’ve gotcha, laddie,” a grizzled voice soothed, and Cailan opened his eyes to look at the man speaking to him.  He was a well-worn sailor, gray-haired and wrinkled but with arms and body still thick and strong.  “Those fish will find themselves another dinner,” the man assured.

Cailan was breathless and trembling with fatigue, pain, and adrenalin.  He still managed a coughed out, “Thank you!”.

The other man in the dinghy was much younger than his companion and he gave Cailan a hard look.  “You may not be thanking us soon, boy.  You’ve got a lot of questions to answer.  The captain is suspicious of that ship you come from.”

“He…should be,” Cailan said around heavy breaths.  “But I have to get back to Jarek.  It’s urgent!”

“Jarek? Leader Jarek?” the older man asked in surprise.  “He be second to the king.  It’s not likely you’ll get a meetin’ with him for anything.”

“I…have to,” Cailan insisted.  “I belong…to him!”

Both men gave him looks of surprise mixed with dubiousness.  “What do you mean, you belong to him?” the younger man questioned.

“I’m his concubine,” Cailan said for the first time with certainty, and even a bit of pride.  “I have to get back to him.”

By now the dinghy had reached the main vessel and the men worked to attach it to ropes which would raise it to deck level.  They shared a look as they worked and after hearing Cailan’s declaration. 

“We’ll let the captain know what you’ve said, laddie,” the old sailor finally decided.  “He’ll likely send word to the palace, but it will be up to the royal family what to do with you after that.”

The men sounded doubtful, but Cailan relaxed for the first time in hours at that promise.  His body worn out and in pain, he didn’t fight the blessed darkness of exhaustion that overcame him as the dinghy was raised onto the ship.

*****

Cailan remembered nothing after falling asleep in the dinghy, but he was pulled from his slumber by a warm and familiar hand lightly cupping his face.  His eyes opened and saw Jarek’s concerned face above him.

It was such a welcome sight that he sat up and flung his arms around Jarek’s neck, ignoring the pain of the movement.  “Master!”

Strong arms enveloped him but held him in the gentlest of hugs.  “Oh, my petling.  You had me so scared.” 

A kiss was placed on his damp hair and Jarek tenderly settled him back onto a soft mattress and pillow.  “Lie back down, petling.  You’ll injure yourself more with such movements.”

The sound of a throat clearing made Cailan aware they weren’t alone in the room.  He turned his head and saw a professionally uniformed man whom he didn’t recognize.  He was distinguished looking with a beautiful ocean green blended into his black hair.

“Sire,” the man spoke with utmost respect.  “The ship medic saw to the young man’s wounds before your arrival, but if you’d like another healer to see to him, I have a page boy ready to run.”

“Thank you, Captain Kenton.  I’d like to speak to your medic about the extent of my companion’s wounds before deciding if bringing another on board is necessary,” Jarek informed.

“As you wish, your highness.  I’ll have him brought in directly.”

The captain left to retrieve his subordinate and Jarek immediately turned his attention back to Cailan.  His touch on Cailan’s hair was gentle, but his eyes were piercing. 

“I can’t tell you how relieved I was when word was sent that you were on Captain Kenton’s ship.  There will be no mercy for those who gave you these injuries.”

“Was their ship overtaken?  Do you know who abducted me?”

“No to both, and I was hoping you would have the answer to that second question,” Jarek admitted.

“I don’t know who took me from the palace, but I know the leader of the ship I ended up on.  Prince Killian of the Berring kingdom was staying secluded on it while his delegation was at the palace!”

Jarek’s eyes hardened.  “The Berring kingdom was behind this?”

“Yes!  And Comley’s hair is blonde, not silver.  And they wanted him to seduce you.  And…”

Jarek held a hand up, stopping Cailan’s words that were pouring out faster and faster.  “Take a breath, my prince.  I will get the full story from you soon, but you’re making this cut on your lip bleed, and I don’t want you aggravating any more of your injuries.  Besides, I’d rather keep what you’re knowledgeable of between you, me, and Alaric, and not something that can be overheard by anyone else.”

Cailan glanced at the room’s door, his tone dropping to a whisper.  “Do you think there’s danger on this ship?”

“No,” Jarek answered immediately.  “But I’ve learned to be cautious no matter what.  We’ll be back at the palace soon, but I want to know the extent of your injuries first.”

“I’m alright,” Cailan tried to assure, but was cut off by the return of the captain and a cleanly dressed man carrying a healer’s bag.

The healer bowed graciously.  “My lord.  It is an honor to have you aboard.  How may I serve you?” he asked sincerely.

“I’d like to be as informed as possible about the injuries my companion sustained,” Jarek informed.

“Of course, your highness.” The man brought a chair close and sat by Cailan’s head while Jarek remained on the edge of the mattress and the captain stood in the background observing silently. 

Cailan hadn’t truly taken in the bandages on his body until the healer began explaining them to Jarek.

“None of the injuries are life threatening,” the medic assured both men.  “Although there are two I’d keep a close eye on.  Your companion took a severe blow to the head.  No blood loss from there, but as you can see, the bruising goes all the way down the left side of his face, and I’m afraid it will look worse before it gets better.”  The healer looked in Cailan’s eyes.  “It’s going to be sore, swollen and stiff for awhile, young sir.  If your vision blurs or you start getting sudden upset stomachs, please let Leader Jarek know and have a medic attend to you.”

“I will,” Cailan promised.

The healer lightly touched the bandage on Cailan’s head and spoke again to Leader Jarek, who was looking foreboding.  “The blow also produced a large bump on his head, but that should go down in a day or two.” 

The man’s hands then lifted the blanket Cailan was under, making the young prince realize for the first time that he was completely naked.  Reflexively, he grabbed to pull the coverings back over him.  It clearly surprised the medic, but Jarek chuckled.

“I appreciate your modesty, my prince.”  To the healer he said, “Sir, only uncover what is necessary.  My companion’s body is meant only for me as is possible.”

“Yes, my liege,” the healer capitulated.  He maneuvered the blankets to reveal a white bandage on Cailan’s side.  “There was a cut here that required a few stitches.  It wasn’t made from a knife that I can deduce….”

“Glass,” Cailan interrupted.  The other three men in the room looked at him curiously, and Jarek was appearing rather ominous again.  “I wasn’t stabbed,” Cailan assured.  “I rolled on a piece of sharp glass when the ship tipped.  But that’s what I used to cut the ropes that held me.”

Jarek didn’t look any more pacified, but the healer moved on to the wrappings on Cailan’s wrists and ankles.  “That would explain the abrasions on his hands and feet, my lord.  They’ll need salve and fresh bandages every day, but they should heal fully.”

“Is that everything?” Jarek questioned.

The healer nodded.  “Yes, sire.  I’d recommend a restful few days with limited physical exertion, but cared for properly, none of these injuries have any permanency.”

“Would it be too much for Cailan to transfer him back to the palace?”

“I’m fine!” Cailan insisted as the healer also said, “He should be fine with minimal jostling.”

Jarek looked to Captain Kenton and nodded at the man, who bowed respectfully before leaving the room.

“The captain will make arrangements to have you moved,” Jarek explained as the healer exited the room after his captain.

“You’re coming with me, right?” Cailan asked anxiously.

“I don’t plan to entrust you with anyone else,” Jarek assured.

Cailan lowered his voice.  “And I have to tell you things I heard.  The Berring group can’t be trusted!”

“I believe you,” Jarek affirmed.  “But the king needs to be involved in this, and I don’t want details discussed until I can assure our complete privacy.”

Cailan nodded and then tried to sit up, yearning to hug his owner.

“Don’t strain yourself, petling,” Jarek ordered, using strong hands to keep Cailan on his back.

“Then come down here, master.  I want you closer.”

Jarek grinned at him.  “I like that word on your lips, my prince.  And how close do you want me.  Closer than holding your hand?”

He picked up Cailan’s left hand and engulfed it in his own.

“Yes,” Cailan replied, his gaze focused on the big man.

“Closer than leaning over you?” Jarek asked more softly as he leaned in and braced an arm on either side of Cailan.

“Yes.”

“Closer than this?”  He lowered himself until his lips hovered over Cailan’s mouth.

“Yes, my lord,” Cailan whispered.  “As close as possible.”

Carefully Jarek stretched out on the bed by his concubine and let Cailan cuddle in secure at his side.  “Are you warm enough, petling?”

“I am with you here.”  He yawned.  “But I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep, sweet one.  I’m not going anywhere.”

*****

It was a brief nap that had to be interrupted for the trip back to the palace.  There was no way Cailan could sleep as the enclosed carriage moved along bumpy streets, despite the luxuriousness of its padded seats and spacious interior.  But he leaned heavily against Jarek, dressed in borrowed clothes and wrapped in a warm blanket since he was still feeling the chill of his long swim.

“Are you doing alright?” Jarek asked him more than once.

Cailan assured him he was, despite the jarring of the carriage making him ache and be very aware of his injuries.

“I’ll get you settled into bed as soon as possible,” his owner promised, “but it won’t be in our rooms at first.”

“Why?” Cailan asked, not liking the hint of a whine he heard in his own voice. 

“Because your safety is more important.  Your abduction happening right within the palace walls means there is a potential traitor to the family, and we don’t know who that is.  I’ve arranged it so that as few people as possible know that you have been found and are returning.”

“Who does know?” Cailan questioned.

“Only those most necessary: the guard Jothan, who is driving this carriage, Charon because I am taking you in through a little known entrance that would alert him to trouble if he didn’t know who was coming, the royal healer so he can tend to you, and Alaric.  Upon the king’s orders, their lives are bound to their silence.”

“Are you sure they’re trustworthy?”

“I’m sure of very few people right now,” Jarek answered honestly, “but they are among the most loyal staff members I can think of.”

“When will we talk to the king?”

“As soon as I get you settled if you’re able to handle it.  He knows when we’re arriving, and he knows how to meet us without having anyone aware of where he is or how he got there.”

When they did arrive it took a lot of persuasion on Cailan’s part to make Jarek let him walk to the prepared rooms.  Jarek finally acquiesced, but he kept an arm around Cailan the whole while, and the younger man did have to admit that he was grateful to sit and then stretch out on the bed once they reached their destination.

Jothan remained on guard just outside the door, and inside it was just the two of them.  Jarek settled him under the covers of the bed before fully closing the blinds to the room’s windows and lighting several lamps. 

“This room is the furthest away from the main living areas of the palace.  It’s rarely used and three of the walls are the thick outer stone we use to build the barriers around the palace and several important places in the city.  We won’t be overheard in here, even by someone just outside the door,” Jarek explained.

“And King Alaric is coming to us?”

“Yes.  He should be here shortly.  Are you up to telling us all you remember?”

Cailan nodded, the motion a little painful on his bruised face, but he could set that aside.

“Rest until he arrives then,” Jarek ordered.

The rest was brief because not more than five minutes passed before King Alaric seemed to appear out of nowhere.  Cailan was startled at the unexpected presence as the king had clearly not come through the door.

“How did you get in here?!” he asked in amazement when the man stood at the foot of the bed, completely forgetting to address the king properly.

“The more important question is how did you get out of the palace without it being detected?” 

Cailan easily detected the hint of coolness in the king’s tone, which surprised him.  Alaric had always been kind and warm to him in their interactions.  He glanced between the king and Jarek, noticing the frown his owner was aiming at his brother, and not sure what to make of it.

“I don’t know how I got out of the palace,” he said honestly.  “The last thing I remember is feeling really tired while eating the evening meal.  I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up I was tied to a chair on Prince Killian’s ship.”

The king’s expression turned confused.  “Don’t you mean Captain Kenton’s vessel?  Jarek said that’s who contacted him.”

Cailan shook his head as Jarek looked at his brother and said, “Let him tell us everything from the beginning, brother.”

The king took a seat and motioned for Cailan to do just that.  Taking a breath, Cailan proceeded to reveal all he knew about his abduction.  He explained waking up in the room of the ship, meeting and getting struck by the man claiming to be Prince Killian of Berring, and pretending to be unconscious while Killian and the man named Marxis discussed the silver prophecies.  He was interrupted by both men at that point.

“Wait, you are saying they know of the silver prophecies?” the king asked seriously, while Jarek at almost the same time said, “What did you hear them say?”

Seeing his surprise, Jarek took Cailan’s hand.  “My prince, just as you knew nothing of the prophecies before we told you of them, no one outside of Cylandrea knows of them either.  They have been an intensely protected secret for centuries.  No foreigner—except for you now—has ever been told even part of them.  And we only told you because you are the only one who has ever even come close to fulfilling them.”

“But I’m sure it was the prophecies you told me about that they were discussing!” Cailan insisted.

“What exactly did the two men say?” the king asked gravely.

Cailan closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on what he remembered.  His head had been pounding so much at the time that he feared that he may have misheard things.

“They definitely got several scrolls out and were discussing them,” he determined.  “I think they were talking about me at some point, although my name was never said. That I recall.”

“What did they say about you?” Jarek pressed.

“That I was definitely born as a silver…oh! And that they thought I might be able to see that Comley’s hair was blonde instead of the silver of a spell!  The man, Marxis, quoted something from the scrolls.” 

He had to think hard before he could recall the words.  “’Colors he sees to which others are blind’,” he repeated.  “I think that’s what he said, and Prince Killian said he didn’t understand that.  Yes, that’s right!  When he said he didn’t understand it, Marxis told him about Comley thinking I could tell that he wasn’t a real silver.”

The two brothers shared a look, but Cailan sensed that both men were beginning to fully believe him, not just Jarek.

“What else do you remember?” Alaric asked.

Cailan quoted everything he could remember, including the discussion of Killian planning to force himself on him.

Jarek growled low in his chest at that information and his eyes sparkled with angry flames. 

While Cailan felt his blood heat at the sense of ownership Jarek was emitting, he didn’t want his master to be unable to focus on the rest of the important details.  He quickly described as much as he could of his first escape attempt, the brief and unpleasant interlude in Killian’s quarters afterward, and then how he cut through his bonds and jumped ship the second time.

“Captain Kenton and his men saved my life, my lords,” he told the royal brothers.  “Two of his men pulled me from the water just as the sharks were about to attack and I had no strength left.”

Jarek seemed to break a little at that and he gripped Cailan against him.  The younger man could feel his owner’s heart pounding as he held their bodies together tightly.

“I’m alright, master,” he soothed as he embraced Jarek just as tightly.  “I’m alright.”

The king’s hand landed comfortingly on his brother’s back as Jarek continue to hold Cailan.  “Listen to your companion, brother.  He is in danger no longer and his wounds will heal.”  A slight bit a humor crept into his tone.  “But holding him to the point of oxygen deprivation may not be so wise.”

Jarek snorted in droll contempt, but slowly relaxed his hold and helped Cailan recline comfortably against several pillows.  For an extra moment his hand cupped the unbruised side of Cailan’s face, the touch saying more than words.

Alaric squeezed Jarek’s shoulder, and then looked to Cailan with much more warmth than when he’d first entered the room.  “I’m glad you’re alright, young prince, but now we have some large problems to deal with.”

Jarek nodded his agreement.  “One of the biggest is that we have a dangerous and deceptive delegation from a kingdom with the military prowess to start a deadly war.  It also seems like a possibility that we have one or more Cylandrean traitors within the palace walls who may have helped in Cailan’s kidnapping….”

“And who may have released extremely clandestine information of our prophecies to foreign kingdoms,” the king said soberly.  “If there is a traitor within the palace, we have no guarantee that Berring is the only kingdom who received leaked information.”

Cailan understood the seriousness of that and his stomach froze probably as much as the king’s and Jarek’s did.

“We also have what can be confirmed as an enemy ship in our waters,” Jarek reminded.  “One that is faster than any of our fleet according to Captain Kenton, and also one that we don’t know where it has sailed to.”

A fleeting thought popped into Cailan’s head and he sat up quickly, wincing as the action pulled at the stitches on his side.

“Petling!  Be careful!” Jarek urged, his hands quickly coming to stabilize the younger man.

“Sorry, I forgot,” Cailan replied, “but I think I might know where the Berring ship has gone.”

The king leaned in anxiously.  “Where?!”

“A cave…or caves,” Cailan answered.  “Killian shouted to his men where to go when Captain Kenton’s ship came after him.  I think he said Cabo Caves or Careb Caves…something like that.  Do those sound familiar?”

The two royals shook their heads.  “There are caves in several waters around Cylandrea.  They’re actually quite common, and we use a number of them to moor our ships in severe weather.  I’ve never heard of any with a name like that though.”

“I know of none either,” Alaric agreed with his brother, “but we should ask Sem.  He’d know, and if he didn’t, he’d know if any current or ancient maps might have them located.”

“What about Comley and the Berring delegation?” Jarek asked.  “For now they don’t know of Cailan’s escape from his abduction or return to the palace.  If we confront them without physical proof of their conniving, we risk Berring declaring war; but, if we don’t do something soon, then they pose an extreme danger to the family, the palace staff, and possibly all of Cylandrea.”

“That’s something else that is in Sem’s hands right now,” the king determined.  “He’s working with the sorcerers, and if he can find a way to prove that Comley’s hair is spell work, then we have grounds to arrest the delegation for malicious deception of the royal family.  It gives us fair argument against the Berring royal house if they try to accuse us of going against them first.”

“King Alaric, I remember something else that Killian and Marxis discussed!  I’m sorry I didn’t recall it before!” Cailan piped up.

“What is it?” the two brothers asked in unison.

“It was when they were discussing the prophecies and Comley’s hair.  They said they had researched the magic abilities within Cylandrea’s kingdom and that you had no spells equivalent to the hair changing one.  Without that knowledge, there isn’t a way for you to prove Comley’s hair is fake.”

“So where does that leave us?” Jarek asked more to the king than to Cailan, but Cailan answered anyway.

“You forget, my lord, that Arten does have a hair changing spell,” Cailan said excitedly.  “I wrote down what I could remember from it like you asked me to, but I’m afraid it’s incomplete.  But you could contact my father!” he exclaimed.  “Cylandrea and Arten share an alliance now.  You could speak to our royal sorcerer!”

There was a thoughtful silence after Cailan’s suggestion.  King Alaric eventually gave a slow nod.  “That may be our best option.  I will speak with Sem first and see what he’s discovered.  If there is nothing within our own resources, then we will contact King Saxon.”  He looked to the young prince.  “Can you think of anything else we should know?”

Cailan took a moment to search his mind, but nothing else came to him.  “No, sire.”

“If you do think of something, I expect you to tell Jarek or myself immediately,” the king ordered. 

“I will, my liege,” Cailan promised.

Alaric accepted that and rose from his seat.  “I need to return before my absence is prolonged too much.  Are you staying here, Jarek?”

“I am.  Send Sem or Sana if you need me.  Otherwise I want to remain while Cailan recuperates and be available when Healer Noee arrives.”

“I’ve informed Jothan to let Noee have entrance.  Charon will escort her here and back.”

“Thank you,” both Jarek and Cailan said sincerely.

Alaric moved to a part of the room that was not visible to Cailan, and then disappeared as soundlessly as he’d arrived. 

“How is he doing that?” Cailan asked incredulously.

Jarek laughed.  “He’s slipping behind the canopy curtains of the bed and going through a disguised panel behind the headboard.”

“Really?  I can’t even hear the panel moving.”

“Good,” Jarek stated.  “You’re not meant to.”

The bigger man took off his shoes then and joined Cailan in leaning against the fluffed up pillows behind him. 

“Are you in pain at all, little love?” he asked.

“Nothing serious,” Cailan claimed even as he leaned carefully against the bigger man.  “My side where the stitches are is sore, and my face definitely feels like it took a strike, not to mention that I’ve had a headache since being on Killian’s ship.  How long was I gone by the way?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly when you were taken, but it’s approaching midnight now.  If your abductors took you around yesterday’s evening meal, then you were gone for a little over a day.”

“When did you realize I was gone?  Did you know right away I was kidnapped?”

“No,” Jarek admitted.  “I couldn’t find you when I returned to our rooms, and I confess that angered me at first.  I thought you may have grown bored and chosen to explore outside our suite.  I alerted the palace guards to search for and detain you if they found you.  An hour of searching revealed you weren’t in the palace, and then I remembered the note Charon handed me from you.  When I read it, I feared you had run away.”

“Why would you think that?” Cailan asked, knowing that had never been the intention of his note.

“I thought you might be trying to make a decision easier for me.  You said you wanted me to do what was right for the kingdom, and I guessed that you believed the right choice was to choose Comley over you, so you ran.”

“I didn’t mean for you to think that,” Cailan declared.

“I realize that now, but for a brief time I believed that was what you were thinking.”

“But when did you realize I had been taken?”

“When I finally took note of something I should have realized immediately.  One chair was missing from the table in our parlor; the one I always sit on with you at my side.  It was nowhere to be found.  I sent for the palace sorcerer who performed a revealing spell.  It proved the missing chair was not in the palace grounds, but it also revealed barely noticeable flecks of a sedation drug on the floor and in the air by the table.  What was left behind was not strong enough to cause harm anymore, but it proved to me that you had not left the palace willingly.”

“I didn’t,” Cailan assured.

Jarek dipped his head down and kissed Cailan with extreme tenderness.  “I have never in my life been so scared as that moment when I realized you had been taken from me, harmed for all I knew, and I had no idea who was culpable.”

“I’m alright now,” Cailan reassured.

“No, you were hurt, and I will come down hard on those who did it.  I was so relieved when Captain Kenton’s cabin boy brought me news that you were on his ship.”

“He seems to be a good man,” Cailan noted.

“He is a very good man,” Jarek agreed, “and he will be rewarded along with his men.  But enough talk for now.  The healer will be here soon, and I want a cold compress on your head now.  Lie down.  I’ll prepare it and stay with you.”

Cailan did as he was told, hoping the Berring people would not cause more problems before the royal family could prove their crimes.