Inbound
by Jaya

Inbound

by Jaya

The rain had slicked the pathways and the ground beneath their feet but there was no time to take great notice of it except to be wary. The clash of metal against metal and the scream of men dying was all consuming when one could easily join the bodies that were strewn across the ground. Life's blood spilling out unnoticed in the dark, a warrior's falling goes unseen in the light, their bodies splattered by men as heaven's tears, attempting to wash them clean. An unfitting end for any noble man. Still the lighting illuminated the end of a battle as it continued to wage on as if it is no real end at all.

It had sprung up around the traveler as the storm had rolled in with the coming of the night. But the fighting had not ceased as the first drops of rain began to fall from the boiling clouds. Friend and foe began to look alike; though to him they were all the same since he was neither one nor the other - only prey to both.

A bolt lunged from the sky, striking the earth sending all flying alike, and for a moment he was silhouette against the raging clouds overhead. Rain had slicked his dark hair to his face, save the twin braids that hung on either side of his face, long hair held back at the nape of his neck. Wet clothing stuck to his skin, his sword gleamed brightly for a moment and then it was dark. All men alike fell, he paid no heed to who they were, each side saw him as a stranger and therefore an enemy. A shadow slunk from the forest that night, caught in the midst of the battle that had nothing to do with him.

It was only with the saving of his life by a young stranger that friend and foe began to sort themselves out. The traveler took sides as he looked up at his rescuer. There was a light in his eyes or perhaps it was the odd illumination of the storm, as he accepted the hand up. But no time for thanks or words was allowed as the attack was renewed. He found himself fighting back to back with the man whose life he had saved.

One of the men from the castle, that was all he knew; he could tell by the dress it was not like those of his attackers. Though he had not planned on getting embroiled in the tangle, it had happened none-the-less, there was nothing to be done for it now. His objective always in the back of his mind, perhaps this would get him inside. No time to think now, later.

Lunge, draw back - the press of warm shoulders against his own, no time for distractions - feign, attack, block, step forward, kill. The bodies around them grew, as the storm and the battle raged on, but the attackers dissipated and in the distances, as they fell away the sound of a retreat horn signaling the retreat, it echoed beneath the rolling thunder.

No time to relax, not now, not yet. He was not one of the enemies but neither was he a defender the castle. He saw the wariness in the eyes of the men around him as he slowly lowered his weapon and turned to look into the burning-green eyes of the one who'd saved him and who, in turn, he'd saved during the course of the night's battle. Distracted by the eyes that watched him, he missed the last enemy's attack, too late to fend him off as the blade pierced the leather he wore and ripped into skin.

An angry cry, green eyes burning like fire, the man was dead without realizing what had happened. Surprise caught in a flash of lightening, a strong arm lifted him from the mud as pain skewed his vision, just enough to blur out all but the face that looked down at him. The traveler blanked out, his blood joining that of the other men upon the field, he was unaware of anything else that happened thereafter.

The rain began to fall anew; he looked at the stranger, turning to find men gathering themselves to return to the confines of the castle. For now their battle was over; they would not chase their enemies into the woods, it had been ordered and all knew it. Now came the grim chore of sorting friend from enemy among the slain in the mud. To carry those who had been friends to the pyres within the castle keep. But in that moment his mind was not on what had to be done, the ugly task of the next few hours, it was on the wounded man in his arms. Men answered as he called for help, the stranger was not to be harmed but cared for. No questions were asked as a stretcher was brought, it was not their place to question him, most were too weary from the fighting to care or to ponder on the mans appearance. That could not be said for everyone though and keen eyes had picked him out and noted on what was taking place, as he approached the bedraggled young man who stood letting the others do as he asked.

Standing he pushed his wet hair back from his face, nodding to the commander, "Send word to my father that this night is ours. The enemy has returned to the forest to lick their wounds, and we have our own to care for." He sighed, "Get the wounded inside."

"Yes sire." A polite nod and an arch of an eyebrow, "Is any of that blood yours Caspin?"

With a wry smile he turned away, "Scratches Merydon, nothing serious thanks to him." He sighed softly, "See to the men. I'll deal with my father and yes, I'll get some rest."

"Who is the stranger?"

"I know not." He paused glancing towards the two men bearing the stretcher. "He saved my life."

"From the south by the look of him," Merydon frowned, "We do not see many of them now since they fell, I..." But whatever he might have said was lost as messengers came running, all with requests and news to report; drawing Merydon's attention to other things.

Caspin nodded absently, leaving the Commander to his work, Merydon was good at what he did and would take care of things far better then he could. Though he might lead the men into battle and fight along side them, it was Merydon who took care of things in the end. Shaking his head, he sighed. Weary to the bone, Caspin set out to see how the stranger fared. He frowned as he remembered the surprise on the strangers face as he caught him, the fierceness with which he had fought. The man was no stranger to killing nor to fighting, that much was obvious. Shaking his head slightly, he pushed his hair from his face. Anything more then that would have to wait till later.

For the moment he would be more then glad to get out of the rain, to wash, and find a dry place to sleep for a few hours. However there were things to be seen to before he could allow himself the luxury of such things - his father among them.

As it happened, it was hours before Caspin found himself soaking in a warm bath, trying to keep from falling asleep. Forcing himself from the water after too short a time and into warm well-made clothes, he padded down the hall to the room that had been given to his guest. His father had protested the man's presence in their private quarters of the castle fortress but he had argued long and hard. Eventually his father had given into him. Other matters had called his mind away, leaving Caspin free to see to himself. In the end he had bound his own scratches, deeming them not worthy of a healers time or concerns. Caspin didn't need another lecture from his father on the dangers of fighting alongside common soldiers. Staying safe within the walls might suit his father but it would not do for him; it was an argument that neither would win, both too stubborn to concede to each other's valid - or invalid - points.

Pushing open the door to the room, he was glad to see it was devoid of all save a young novice, who was studying quietly in the corner while keeping watch. "You may go," he said quietly, watching the boy go with a half smile.

"Shall I send for anything Sire?" he asked clasping the book he'd been reading to his chest as he stood.

"No, thank you." Caspin ruffled the boy's hair as he walked past, waiting till the door closed before he turned away. Turning to the bed he stood beside it, looking down at the dark-skinned stranger who lay there. Through the battle he had not had time to take in the features of his visitor, much less the light to do so, instead he took the time now. To look without being noticed.

Though the candlelight was dim, it was enough to see that the man's skin was darker then his own, his black hair long. It had been pulled back during the battle, someone had let it down, it was in desperate need of a good brushing. The healers had undoubtedly seen to cleaning him up as well, at least a little. Caspin looked at the pile of dirty clothing that sat on the chair someone had thought to leave it, he couldn't fathom why.

Turning his gaze back, studying high cheekbones, fully fine features, a nose that had obviously been broken at one point but it did not detract from the man's natural beauty. Caspin sighed softly pushing away the feelings that rose in him unbidden. In recent years he had come to understand them all too well but he was still not comfortable with the yearnings that sprang up in him at the sight of manly beauty. He feared to think what his father might say if he ever found out, yet as he looked at the stranger laying before him, he could not help seeing the beauty of him. Exotically different from the fair-haired robust nature of Caspin's own people.

Caspin himself was green-eyed and red-haired, freckled and easier to burn then to tan like his mother, perhaps that was where some of his father's disdain came from. Despite their mutual dislike, his father could not deny him or the fact that he was the only male heir to be born of his mother's womb while she still lived. Before he killed her, Caspin thought silently - bitterly - to himself. Dropping wearily down to the side of the bed, he reached out to brush the strangers hair from his face, only to stop himself just before his fingertips touch the warm skin. He shook his head slightly standing up, pushing away the notion of fetching a brush, he pulled over a chair he dropped down into it instead.

Unable to keep his eyes open, Caspin fell asleep, his mind too tired to muse over possibilities of the man who had saved his life that night. Too short a time passed before he was fast asleep in the chair, unable to keep his eyes open ,falling asleep without realizing it. He woke to a healer shaking him, slowly he forced his tired eyes open once more, and none too pleased to be awakened.

"What?"

"Fever sire, you should go." The healer's brisk dismissal made him bristle, "Go rest, this is not the place for you, we will take care of him."

Rubbing sleep from his eyes Caspin looked at the man on the bed, sweat glistened on his forehead he tossed his head slightly. The words from his lips were of another language, one that Caspin did not recognize. But it had a beautiful lyrical quality to it, he found himself wishing he knew what was being said. "I will not leave, till he wakes." He closed his eyes for a moment, "Do what you do."

The healer opened his mouth as if it to argue but a look from Caspin stopped him, "Will you at least let me send for food, you must be hungry." It was a statement not a question.

A sigh, Caspin nodded, "Thank you."

It was near two days before the stranger's fever broke, during that time Caspin was forced away by his father and the need for rest as well as more food. Though he returned when he could, often looking more exhausted then when he'd left the battlefield, retreating from the throne room and a different kind of battle. He returned not to his own rooms but to the strangers, finding them more peaceful especially now that the man slept. His sleep was peaceful, as he dropped tiredly down into the chair letting its voluptuous folds wrap around his tired body.

"Boy." The novice paused on his way out, glancing back in answer, "Have someone bring food from the kitchens please, I'm not sure I could move from this chair if the world was falling apart." He gave the boy a weary smile.

"Yes Sire." An eager smile and a nod, as the door closed behind the boy.

Closing his eyes Caspin massaged the bridge of his nose tiredly, if only he could make his father see reason. But the elder King was convinced of his rightness, in the end it would get them all killed. Even with Merydon's help he had not been able to make the fool see reason, not to mention that his father demanded to know what was so interesting about the stranger he'd brought into their house. What little thing his father could find to harp on he would find it and exploit it to Caspin's grief.

The arrival of food distracted his thoughts, he murmured a thank you, accepting the tray with its bowl of soup, a carrying dish full to the brim with extra had been brought as well. Taking a sip from the glass of wine, he didn't notice when the man's eyes first opened, he turned his head to look at Caspin. Smiling, setting the food on the little table next to the chair, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Their eyes met and Caspin found himself at a loss for words as he looked into deep brown eyes.

"Water?" A roughly whispered word.

Fumbling with the pitcher of water and the tin cup, he managed to pour a cup full before bringing it carefully to the man's lips. He downed one and then part of another one before laying back, his tongue darting across his wet lips, breathing a little harder from the exertion it took to drink. A bit of color had returned to his cheeks though it made him look more alive, it wasn't so noticeable in his dark skin.

Instead of asking the question that was foremost on his mind however, what came from Caspin's lips was something wholly different, "Are you hungry?"

"Yes."

"I... I've got some soup?" Caspin was glad that extra had been brought, there was enough to feed both of them. He was still hungry, he did not doubt that his guest was definitely feeling the effects of having not eaten in the past few days.

"Help me sit up." Determination was written across the man's face as he pushed himself up, wincing at the pull on the wound and his own weakness.

Caspin put pillows behind him not trying to stop him, though he would keep him from doing anything more, he would not stop him from sitting up a bit. He knew all too well the hatred of relying on others to take care of you, of physical weakness even though it was the danger of battle. "Here..." Reaching over he picked up the soup bowl, refilling it before offering it to the stranger. "Eat." Caspin knew better then to offend him by offering or trying to feed him, instead he let the man work it out himself.

Brown eyes studied him for a moment before he accepted the bowl, "Thank you."

"I would rather thank you for saving my life." Caspin moved to his own chair uncomfortable with the nearness and the effect it had on him, as well as the way those eyes unsettled him with a simple glance.

"It would be a shame for such beauty as yours to be lost to the world," was the response as the spoon was forgone and the bowl was brought carefully to lips. Just before it contented brown eyes flickered towards him, "I am Tylas."

Tylas, he liked the name was fit with the difference in the man's appearance, it felt exotic as it rolled off his, "Caspin."

"Thank you Caspin." The smile was returned and it was a genuine one, the soup was sipped slowly then devoured hungrily without another words interruption.

Refilling the bowl Caspin watched as it to vanished, glad to know that it was enjoyed as he ate the last of it from the larger carrying dish. They were silent as they ate, what talk might come next was delayed by the arrival of the healer, along with a messenger from his father. Forced to leave once more Caspin bid Tylas good-bye for the moment, though he lingered in his thoughts the whole time he was away.

Their enemy was silent for the moment, most likely they would be for a few more days if the past was any evidence; Caspin oversaw their own preparations, before enduring another argument with his father.

Finally he was allowed to return where his thoughts dwelt, though his body was demanding rest of its own. Upon arriving he found his visitor already fast asleep, the chair he settled himself into entirely too comfortable for his own good.

Caspin fell fast asleep his knees drawn up to his chest, arms draped across them. His clothes rumpled about his body creating an appealing image. Image, what other people saw and thought of him. It was something he never paid much heed to. Despite his father's constant talk of marriage, Caspin had no interest in that or in women when it came to such things. If he thought on it there was much he would like to experience, but on a whole he was quite happy with his life as it was. Or he had been till Tylas had appeared and thrown everything that he knew out of perspective.

Tylas took the time to admire the image that his rescuer presented for him, curled up in the chair, his hair falling down into his face. The green eyes that had mesmerized him before closed now in sleep, there was a sense of peace all around Caspin that spoke of calm. He loathed to wake him as he looked away with a soft sigh, things had not gone as he had planned. Slowly Tylas sat up forcing himself out of bed, walking carefully to the window hating the weakness he felt after so long abed. Looking out upon the castle and the land beyond, lightening flashed again in the distance but the thunder that accompanied it could not be heard. This was all wrong.

"You should not out of bed." A quiet sleepy voice interrupted his thoughts but Tylas did not turn to look.

"Does it matter what I should or should not be doing?"

"It does to me."

A frown he turned to look at his awakened fantasy, "Why?"

"You saved my life, all that I have is yours."

Laughter, quiet and dry escaped his lips as he looked back out the window, "It was you who saved my life last, what does it matter what I have done?"

Caspin stood, walking around the bed to stand closer to him, Tylas looked at him searching. He could sense the interest in Caspin but it was odd as if it had been repressed. Something was missing and he wished he knew what it was. Whatever it was it drew him towards the man who stood in the shadows of the room and the green eyes that seem to see to the very bottom of his soul - he needed to know. Before he realized it his lips brushed the others, surprise but neither pulled away instead the kiss deepened for brief tantalizing sections before a knock at the door drew them quickly apart but not of Tylas's doing. Was giving in the only way to understand?

No knock, "Prince Caspin the enemies are attacking. Commander Merydon wishes to know if you will be joining them but suggests that you rest."

The moment was broken, Caspin turned away missing the look of surprise at the title as the last of the puzzle pieces fell into place. "Tell him that I will be right there."

A nod, the messenger left closing the door behind him, he turned back to Tylas, "I must go, forgive me," he breathed his eyes lingering even as he whirled away leaving no time for responses for further discussion.

Watching him go, Tylas slowly walked over to collapse onto the bed, "Gods what have I done," he whispered staring up at the ceiling, the name ringing all too familiar in his memory. Shaking it off, Tylas grabbed his weapons determined to follow Caspin out to battle, the Prince was in no more shape to fight then he was.

Just as he opened the door though, a healer's hand had moved to open it from the other side, the big man looked him slowly up and down. "You're not going."

"I'm not a prisoner, I'll do as I please." Tylas glared at him trying to push his way past, only to be shoved back into the room stumbling and falling to the floor. The wind knocked from his body as the door closed behind the large man. He was forced to concede the healer's point as his vision faded slightly, his head pounding Tylas cursed softly climbing to his feet. He stalked to the window, enduring the healer till finally the man left.

Closing his eyes Tylas turned from the window, visions of the last few hours playing through his mind. How had things become so messed up? It had been as simple as it could be when he set out and now, he didn't know what to think. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Tylas pressed the heals of his hands to his eyes.

"Why did it have to be you," whispered softly as he let himself fall back onto the bed, without truly seeing anything. In the end none of it mattered, he had already failed, the one that he'd vowed to protect and everyone else... Promises that he had made would be broken, and trust given would be shattered irretrievable.

A memory -

Gold spilled across the table as his eyes alighted on it only to be drawn away by the untimely knock at the door, his younger brother entered without waiting for consent. Tylas was given no chance to cry a warning and the one he had died on his lips as a silver blade gleamed against the dark skin of Auno's throat - too late. He was forced to take the offer he'd refused and this time for less then the original price, his brother's life not part of the bargain. It was a much better guarantee then any amount of gold could be. Still half of the gold was offered for traveling expenses and whatever else might come up, his brother's life the final prize and that would only be returned to him upon proof that he had completed his task.

If he did not return, the answered needed no speaking, he knew it all too well.

His job to kill the Prince of Merconia, the only male born heir to the throne; if the Prince were to fall, it would leave only the elderly King and nearest kin to contend for the throne. Perhaps it would aid the attackers at some point the King had to die leaving the castle and surrounding countryside in uncertainty, that uncertainty would play into the hands of their enemies or so it was hoped.

Though Tylas had no personal stake in the battle that waged, he had cared not which side won - it made no difference to him. Many of his people would still be slaves but he and his brother were free because of the life his father had given. Now even that was in jeopardy because he had dared to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But instead he had left the gold where it lay on the table, taking only his weapons and a change of clothes as well as a few other traveling items. His only words the promise he spoke to his frightened brother as he went to the door. "I will return." That said, there was nothing more he could do if he fought, it would only kill them both.

It hurt to close the door on his brother's fearful eyes, the angry tears on his cheeks. Auno was strong, he had grown up a child with no privilege - the son of a slave. But he had been too long to remember much of that unlike his brother, Tylas remembered more then he cared to. He would save his brother from such things if he could. He had promised his dying father that he would take care of his brother, that he would see that Auno had a better chance at life then he did.

Because of his father they had been granted their freedom; the two of them, his sister and mother lost, sold. His father had always held some hope of finding them but with his death Tylas had turned his cares to Auno. He still looked for his mother, though his memories of her were few and far between he thought he would recognize her if ever he saw her or so he hoped. So far he had had no hope, not in all his travels.

All this ran through his mind as he walked away from the humble home that he had built for himself and his brother. The garden Auno had tended in the past few years, the fruit trees they had planted that would bear fruit that year, perhaps enough for them to enjoy. Tylas didn't look back, he would not fail his brother, and he would not break his promise to his father no matter what it took.

So he had told himself then, little had he known of what would come or he might have realized things would not be so easy.

- The end.

"What have I done, brother?" The fear on Auno's face haunted him even now, the confusion and the tears. He had promised his brother, had he gathered up the gold that he would return that he would be successful no matter what it took. They had needed a stranger, one who would not be spotted as enemy among the foreigners - not one of his own people. But why himself?

Because he had distinguished himself in battle, in raids as a free solider for hire, only he had refused their initial offer of gold. No matter what they thought, he was not a murderer, at least not till the blade had been brought to his brothers throat - then he had, had no choice but to comply. Now what? It was one thing to slay a faceless, nameless man in battle but to kill someone with a face and a name... One who had saved his life? That was a different matter all together, a possibility Tylas had not let himself consider till this moment, when it was too late to go back.

Through the night and the day he sat in the window, watching the progress of the battle as he could see it, making a makeshift sling out of one of the sheets. At one point a healer entered, only to be rebuffed and sent away. It was late the next night before Caspin entered, again looking the worse for the wear and Tylas tried to stifle the worry that rose in him at the sight of the weary prince. The feelings he did not understand or want weighted him down, he was comfortable here, and more so then he should be. Knowing that his brother was out there in danger, if not hurt and he was here doing nothing when he should be doing something. It frightened Tylas at how comfortable he felt here in this place, with the man he'd been sent to kill, the attraction that drew him towards Caspin.

In the past he had always hated royalty, they cared nothing for the people beneath them, much less those they had to walk over to keep their power - or get it. But even in the short time he'd know Caspin he could see there was something different about him. It was obvious in the way he treated others from the healer boy to the messengers who came from the father he obvious hated.

Shaking off the thoughts that lingered from the time he had spent alone since Caspin had left, he looked towards the Prince. Their eyes met and neither said anything, neither willing to break the silence that had settled between them. Slowly Caspin came to stand before Tylas, who still sat in the window his breath catching slightly in his throat. "Why do you do this to me?" he breathed.

Tylas looked away fighting within himself, "I do not mean to." A whisper.

"Are you well?" Worry colored the voice.

He could have laughed at the question. Was he well? Were either of them well in this situation, Caspin had saved his life, this alone said that he could not kill him and keep his honor intact; yet the face of his bother would not leave him. "Are any of us truly well?"

"Something bothers you..." Too intent a gaze he turned to the window, but the prince did not leave as he wanted him to, "Why are you here Tylas?"

"You do not truly wish to know."

"I do or I wouldn't have asked."

Angrily he pushed himself from the window, ignoring the tremble in his legs as he stood nose to nose with Caspin. "I was sent here to kill you." He glared, stalking away his hands clenched only to whirl back around searching, "Are you happy now that you know?" Fool. Stupidity had brought him to say the truth, what of it he could not tell as his knees gave out beneath him. 'Forgive me Auno.' Silently thought but never spoken.

Stunned silence did not stop him from dropping catching Tylas before he hit his head upon the edge of the bed. "Why?"

"You're the only heir to the kingdom... if you die, your lands and castle will fall soon, your father will die; eventually they will take it in time. They fear you, Caspin. You're the strength behind these walls, the one that the people will look to, even I can see that now that I have come to know you." A soft groan he not longer thought of the wisdom of what he was saying. "I refused them but they took my brother... hostage, I can't let him die but..." His head lolled to the side as he passed out without finishing his sentence.

Slowly Caspin settled Tylas in the bed, once more looking down in puzzlement, worry, and curiosity at the man who lay on the bed. His fingertips coming to rest on his lips, remembering the kiss that had passed between them all too well. His heart beat faster as his blood pulsed and he wondered at the warmth that seeped from his heart. How could he love one who had been sent to kill him, it made no sense. Tylas was as good as the enemy... Yet Caspin could not find it himself to distrust the man or to hate him.

From the door that he'd just opened, the healer sighed, "He pushed himself too hard, too fast and ate nothing while you were away. It's little wonder he did not collapse before this." The glare made his displeasure obvious, "I don't trust him Sire, and if you would only allow me, I would have a guard posted. At least to watch him while you're away..."

"The boy has taken good care of him while I'm not here, he would not hurt him," he answered, his voice harsher then he meant as he turned from the healer. "A guard will not be necessary, but I thank you for your concern."

"Sire... Caspin if I..."

"You may not. I will vouch for him if that is what it takes." He turned to meet the larger man's gaze evenly and quietly, "Unless you would care to challenge me on that?"

A sigh but finally he shook his head, "No sire, he has shown no pretence towards violence with anyone other then me when I forbade him from following you into battle. I see no reason to... to have him confined or guarded as long as he does not endanger his own health."

Caspin studied the man but finally nodded, "Thank you Rhyanion."

The man nodded politely before excusing himself as quickly as was polite.

Waiting till the healer had left before turning back to the man who slept on the bed, Caspin sighed softly running a hand through his fair hair. Only to have it fall right back into his face he ignored it, walking over to stand next to the bed, then studied Tylas for a few minutes, silently. But silence could not reign forever and so he spoke after a time.

"You will be the death of me, if that is how it must fall so be it," he whispered, dropping onto the bed beside Tylas. Caspin fall asleep quickly, the battle and his father having worn him to the end of his limits, among everything else that had happened. The last conversation with Tylas and all that it had taken the last of his strength, draining him completely of what little energy he had left.

They slept, drawing closer to each other through the night though neither realized it.

He could not kill Caspin, Tylas had known it before but dared not admit it to himself. Not till he woke to find morning streaming in through the window, the prince's body pressed up against his own. His arms still around Caspin, his mind cried out in protest but his whole being said that this was right. A soft muffled groan of dismay, anguish and frustration escaped his lips, he rolled away forcing himself from the comfort from the prince's arms from the bed. Auno would die and it would be his fault, he knew not what to do any longer.

Only once before had he felt so right in the arms of another, but like everything else that had not lasted. No more than this could. It was beyond reason, everything he'd heard of; Caspin's father spoke of trouble. Still that was not the biggest burden that rested on his shoulders. He'd promised his father he'd take care of Auno, promised Auno that he wouldn't fail but when it came down to it, that was exactly what he had done. His brother would die and it would be his fault. There was no one else to blame.

"Brother."

Tylas knew what he had to do, there was truly only one thing that could be done. He would return and he would try to save Auno. If he died trying then so be it, at least he would have tried. Tylas couldn't kill Caspin anymore then he could abandon his brother to what would await him when his failure was confirmed.

Quiet, calm but worried eyes watched him, slowly Caspin sat with a quiet sigh, he could only guess at part of the battle that Tylas was waging in his mind. "We must come up with a way to make them think that I'm dead." Slipping from the bed he came to stand behind Tylas. He knew not how he would explain this to his father, or if he would - much less could. His father wouldn't understand nor would he approve. Even if he knew nothing of the attraction that Caspin felt for his stranger, for Tylas. There was undeniable pull between them. He knew in time he would have to face the truth about himself and that others would discover it. Perhaps they could hide it but in time... Would he want to? Caspin didn't have all the answers, he hoped that in time he would find at least some of them. Yet even as these thoughts wandered around his mind, he had to ask himself if Tylas would ever come back.

"How?"

"You will pretend to kill me on the battlefield, in the confusion it will be easier to fool people into thinking what we want. You'll return to them and save your brother, after that what you do is up to you." Caspin could not stop himself from putting a hand on Tylas's shoulder, "I won't let your brother die for me."

"And if I choose to return here with him? Would you have us?"

"Gladly, I would have you by my side. As my friend."

"Only as a friend?" Tylas turned to fix him with a piercing gaze.

"As my friend and as..." Caspin's words were cut off as his father barged into the room, anger written on his aged features. Blue eyes cutting them both to pieces more then once, before putting them back together and doing it again for the pleasure of it.

"What is going on here!" he demanded.

"We were talking father, have you a problem with that?" Caspin asked his tone reasonable, though there was a hint of weariness and anger in his voice. "It was you who barged in without the courtesy of knocking first, father."

"In my Castle I do as I like." He did not relax, if anything he grew even more agitated, "I have heard talk and I do not like what I hear of you, Caspin." Eyes fixed on his son, "Or this... this heathen slave you've brought into my keep. Without my consent."

"He is a friend father, I will and have vouched for him. How many more times must I say it? I grow tired of repeating myself to you." A sigh escaped his lips, "Would you doubt my words and harm a man who saved my life?"

"He's a savage, a slave undoubtedly sent by our enemies to do no good and you have brought him right into the heart of this place and our family, right where he might do a great deal of damage." A sneer, "I know his people. I've heard such stories of unnatural acts, that their men no longer love women and the women who will have nothing to do with me but instead lay with each other! I will not have that thing here any longer."

Quiet laughter broke the tension, but it was not a happy sound, "Then how do you think our children are born then?" Tylas asked quietly, "I would tell you truthfully that they are born the same way as yours," he added dryly, earning himself a burning glare, the King moved purposefully towards him only to find Caspin in his way.

The room echoed as a strong hand connected with Caspin's face, "I trusted you to tell me everything and now I find you are keeping things from me! What else have you neglected to tell me, wrenched boy, my stupid fool of a..." His hand rose again but this time Tylas stepped in, his own hand wrapping around the King's wrist. Perhaps he should be afraid of this powerful man, but he could not find it in him to fear this old windbag who was too set in his ways and full of himself.

Their eyes met and he returned the glare evenly without turning away, the King thrust Tylas away - blazing. "How dare you."

"You will not strike Caspin again while I am here to say otherwise." Calm, and deadly quiet, the words were spoken, "He has fought enough not to have to fight his own father as well. He would put up with it but I will not."

"What business is it of yours what passes between my son and myself, you stupid whore. You have no place here, you should go back where you belong." He spat the words out, "I will not have you corrupting my son," A finger poked relentlessly into Tylas's chest, "You will not ruin him any more then he already is."

"Father!"

"I am his guardian." The words were fierce this time as the king stepped back in light of them, "If you wish to speak with him you may speak, but you will not..." Why had he said that? He did not know but the words felt right, they could not be taken back now, no matter what their consequence. Things were happening too fast, Tylas felt everything spinning out of his control, what little he had once though he possessed over himself and his life. His density or lack thereof, as had most often seemed the case, not that he had ever cared too much. Tylas had always been happy with the life he had built for himself and his brother, some things could be added but for the most part, it was good. He could take pride in having built it with his own two hands, his blood and sweat had gone into it's making and it had prospered because of that effort.

"Tylas enough." Caspin pushed his way between father and friend, cutting into Tylas's thoughts as well, "He's my father, and it's his..."

The King shoved Caspin away, "You are not my son, you're a stupid boy who knows not what lies in front of his face. I see now that I'm already too late to save you from this thing." Cruel laughter, Tylas tensed ready to intervene again if he had to, "Come tell me Caspin, have you already spread your legs for him? Like a woman? A filthy wench, no better then a tavern girl, you disgust me." He threw his hands up the air, "What sons could I ever expect to spring from your loins when always you have been uninterested in women. Do not think I haven't noticed for I have. You're loitering with men, your love for the army, riding with those who are beneath you when you should stay here safe in the walls. I should count myself blessed that you never had any children, for they would surely be cursed with the same defects as you and your mother."

Flesh connecting with flesh brought the tirade to an end, as the King stumbled back and Tylas glared at him. "You are the fool who does not appreciate what he has, and can not see the love his son bears for him though it is right there, plain for all but himself. I pity you," he spat, thrusting the king out the door. "You've lost your place; it is my turn to look after what you have given up to see a great man grow from your own stupidity and inability to see the truth."

"Tylas no!"

Too late, the door closed, anger colored Caspin's features he hurried to the door only to be stopped. "Let him go Caspin, you owe him nothing and deserve to hear none of what he has to say. He is a fool who can not see what he is losing."

"He's my father." Tears came to Caspin's eyes, "Do you realize what you have done?"

Strong arms surrounded him, despite the pain of the wound and what had just occurred Caspin felt safer then he ever had in those arms. "You're not worthy of him, if he does not come to his senses it is his loss more then yours Caspin. No matter what he may say or do, you're the rightful heir and from what I've seen you'll make a much better ruler when your time comes."

"Who are you to come along after so many years and tell me I am wrong! To tell my father that he is a fool." But he knew it was the truth, though he could not stop the ache nor the fear that beat within him over what had happened. His father was not a man to be trifled with. "I fear his vengeance. You know not what he can do, it is more likely I will never see the turn of the next year, much less my own coronation."

"You will if there is anything I can do to make it come about," Tylas believed he wasn't the only one. The people would follow Caspin when the time came. He thought back to the battle and he could not picture the king raising his army to fight his son, indeed if the men would agree to fight against the Prince who had fought alongside them through the conflicts of the past few years. They had all sweated and bled to keep their land, their keep and their people safe from the invaders.

Caspin pulled away abruptly, "We must go from here."

"You fear he will try something?"

"And you do not know him as I do." Angry eyes glared at him, leaving no room for arguments. Tylas submitted beneath them with the slight nod of his head, "I will follow you."

With that, they left the room that had been his for the past few days and he wondered what lay beyond the room and what little of this strange land he had seen. Perhaps now he would see more of what lay inside the haunting stone keep he had come to enter, by the grace of the very man he had been sent to kill. What irony.

Together they walked in silence, no one tried to stop them though a few murmured greetings, which Caspin returned. Tylas simply nodded his head in response, knowing none of those that they saw. Instead he took in the carvings that were cut into the thick stone walls, pausing a couple of times to look closer. The detail on the works was astonishing, he envied the artists who had been able to render such pieces so beautiful. Caspin noticed his interest, making mention of the fact that the artist had been his mother and her sister. Expressing his admiration, he was gratified with a grin from Caspin.

The artwork on the walls was not the only thing he noted, but the dress of the people they passed. Most were more dressed up then Caspin or himself in the borrowed clothes he'd been given, others were more obviously of a lower position. But all of them smiled at Caspin, looking him in the eyes and greeting him as one might a friend. It did not escape his attention that Caspin returned each greeting, giving his attention to the greeter with a smile that did not fail.

He was mulling over these things when Caspin stopped at a door, facing out into a small courtyard fenced in by castle walls and towers. But it provided a bit more space and some fresh air he was glad of. Tylas wasn't used to spending so much time indoors, much less behind heavy stone. A soft sigh he shook his thoughts off, as a murmured answered came asking who was there.

"Merydon it's me."

A pause, a sigh and the door opened, "What is it Caspin, I was about to retire before anything else might happen?" The man looked weary, Caspin understood the feeling all too well, and knew how much time and energy Merydon put into the castle and his men.

"We need a place to stay. One my father will not suspect."

The door opened all the way, a worried face looked out at them, "What have you done now?"

"I..."

"The fault is mine." Tylas spoke up quietly before Caspin could say any more.

Eyes flickered to him for a moment and then back, "This is the first place he will look if he wishes to find you."

"I know. I thought..."

A large man appeared out of the shadows behind Merydon, pulling on a loose shirt over his bare chest, "They can stay in my rooms, the King should not suspect them of being there."

They exchanged looks, finally Merydon nodded waving them quickly in, "You've met Ghriffon before?"

Caspin nodded, "We've met in passing," he answered.

"The pleasure's all mine," replied the large man.

A quiet chuckle, "I can keep none for myself?"

"Perhaps I will allow you a little."

"Who is your strange friend Caspin?" Merydon asked, interrupting the friendly banter.

"Tylas," he answered before the Prince, they exchanged a warrior's handshake, Merydon studying him quietly before releasing his hand.

"He can be trusted," Caspin added quietly not divulging any more information then that for now.

"Though he's the reason your father may try...." Merydon shook his head, he and Caspin had, had little time to talk since Tylas's arrival, he wished they'd made the time now. There was something different about the stranger, but he could see that Caspin trusted him unquestioningly. He'd always found Caspin a good judge of character, there was little he could do now other then to trust his Prince and friend in his judgment.

"I don't know what my father may do or is thinking; I've never claimed to, nor will I."

Merydon sighed, "You should go then, in case there is any danger I will send someone to you if anything should happen. Till then be quiet and stay out of sight. I would not have you live through the past few years of war only to have your father rend your head from your body." He paced. "One day you will be king, till that day we put up with your father but..."

"Enough, I will not hear words of treason against my father despite the... truth," Caspin ended softly as he stood, "Will Ghriffon take us or will another?"

"I have things to see to but I will make sure that you're seen safely to my rooms," Ghriffon said as he stood, solemn gaze seeking out Merydon's for a moment. Whatever passed between them seemed to satisfy them both, at least for the moment.

"Caspin we need to talk." Merydon said quietly, as the three men moved towards the door.

A nod. "We do."

"I'll come later," he sighed, leaning tiredly back into the seat. "I can not think clearly right now."

"You know where to find me." Caspin gave him a half smile. "Rest well my friend, send for me if anything should happen. I will not abandon you or the men simply because of my father."

"Rest Caspin, the defenses will not fall apart without you there to strengthen them." Merydon stood up, looking over the three of them for a long few moments. His gaze lingered on Ghriffon, before he turned to the bedroom. "Get going in case your father's decided he can no longer stand the sight of you."

A hint of a wry smile but nothing more was said, as they left the rooms, moving quickly and quietly through the hallways. The courtyard and its fresh air was too quickly left behind for Tylas's liking, he wished to be outside again, tired of the confines of the castle of the cold stone. It seemed to press in on him from all sides, he tried to forget it, and still it nagged at him continuously. He said nothing about it though, soon they reached the rooms and Ghriffon left them along with his instructions to make themselves welcome. He also added that he would be staying with Merydon, which did not surprise Tylas, though he wondered if Caspin had picked up on the relationship between his commander and the large warrior. Caspin seemed to grasp a deeper understanding and wisdom for his age, and yet he was childishly inexperience in other ways; a fascinating side of Caspin's personality that mystified Tylas.

As the child of a slave, he had learned his lessons quickly so as not to ensure punishment. But many a lesson was a harsh one, things a child should not be privy to. So it was Caspin's naivety that surprised him the most about the Prince, yet it was enticing as well. Closing his eyes for a moment, Tylas shut out the memories as he looked upon Caspin, the door closing behind them.

He would have preferred to be outside but the private quarters with the Prince was better then nothing. Turning away he walked over to the window, glad to find a bit of a breeze blowing in through the slit in the wall.

"Tylas?" Caspin came to stand behind him.

"I'm not used to being behind walls all the time."

Hesitantly, a hand settled on his shoulder. Tylas sighed quietly before he turned to look at the Prince, "I would return here after I make sure my brother is safe," he said softly studying Caspin, trying to gauge some reaction from him, "If I fail, at least you will not be burdened by me, nor will you inherit your fathers wrath because of my presence. After I leave, he will be proved right in his suspicions. I was sent here to kill you." Looking away from him, Tylas began to pace unable to meet Caspin's gaze, though he could feel the eyes following him.

But he was not given long to pace nor to think on everything, as Caspin caught him up in his arms surprising Tylas, as Caspin's lips ghosted across his own, "You've given me more then you realize and I pray that you will give me more... teach me Tylas, show me who I am, help me understand," Caspin whispered, catching Tylas off guard by his actions and his request. Yet how could he resist such words, it was an offer he was all too willing to explore.

None disturbed them that night as Tylas drew Caspin to the sheets meticulously stripping each other's clothes from their bodies, dropping them in piles on the floor. Tylas carried the prince to the bed - slowly making love to him, watching in rapt awe as the young Prince who writhed beneath him. That sight alone was enough to take his breath away - cheeks flushed in passion, bruised lips parted, a tongue gliding across them.

Candlelight glinting off passion-hazed green eyes, he brought all his knowledge to bear in pleasing Caspin that night, wanting the Prince to know what it was like to be truly loved by another man. It was as Caspin begged to return what he had been given, his eager touch that Tylas lost himself. He knew as he came that he could not leave this, the joining of their bodies that night had solidified whatever had lain between them. It was as much a part of him now just as Caspin was embedded in his soul, slowly sleep pulled him down into its arms. Tylas tried to fight away the peace, fear at what would happen if he relaxed. But in the end, he could not overcome it and he fell fast asleep nestled in Caspin still in his arms.

Exhausted from the past few days and that nights activities, both of them slept soundly, not waking till late in the morning.

So it was that Caspin woke for the first time since childhood, in peace in the arms of a virtual stranger, yet oddly enough he didn't care. His eyes closed once more and he drifted there, warm and safe in Tylas's arms even though he knew the hands now spread across his flesh had been sent to kill him. Images of those hands playing him in more intimate ways goaded him on, he could not help the response that came with those tantalizing images. He was secure in the certainty that Tylas would not hurt him.

A soft chuckle told him that Tylas was awake, and the amused smile on his lips matched by the gleam in his eyes was enough to tell him that he knew what was going on. Before anything else could interrupt them, they made love again, Tylas's hands slowly exploring his body and Caspin's own, finding more courage. Returning touch for touch, while his eyes searched out the reaction from Tylas thrilled to see pleasure written on his face in response to his own actions. Finally they both collapsed once more onto the bed, they're breathing slowly subsiding into soft sighs and companionable silence.

"Good morning," Tylas whispered.

"Morning," Caspin answered blushing.

Fingertips ghosted across his cheek and lips pressed lightly against lips, "Do you regret what has happened?" The question was asked softly, hesitantly.

Thoughtful silence, finally Caspin shook his head, "No. This is right."

Tylas relaxed, a little smile finally touching his lips, "I have to try and save my brother."

"I know, I would expect nothing less of you. What little I know of you."

"If I leave, will you be alright? I will come back if there is any way I can and we will learn more about each other. If you are willing."

Caspin kissed the corner of Tylas's mouth gently in answer, "I can take care of myself. I did so before you came," he answered with a teasing smile. "I will give you a year and a day; if you do not return within that time, either you're dead or... you have decided not to return," he added the last part in a whisper.

"I will return Caspin, if I do not... you will know what happened." A kiss, this time full on the lips, leaving them both breathless, breaking apart only as a knock regretfully interrupted them.

Wincing as he pulled away, Tylas lay back on the bed, even more breathless then before letting Caspin quickly draw clothes on before going to the door. Tylas followed slowly, foregoing a shirt when he heard Ghriffon's heavy voice in the front room, carrying his shirt he left the bedroom behind, "What is it?"

"My father is looking for me," Caspin replied for Ghriffon, glancing over at Tylas only to look away. "He didn't seem angry?" he asked, searching as the larger man shook his head.

"If anything, he was worried, Merydon agreed..." He shrugged. "Merydon wants to speak with you soon. He said he would stop by around mid day if at all possible."

For a long time Caspin said nothing, trying to ignore Tylas who paced around the room, while Ghriffon watched both of them. Quietly Ghriffon waited patently for an answer. Finally Caspin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, making his decision, "I will go and speak with my father, see if I can not make him understand, if not..." He shrugged. Caspin made no mention of what he had discussed with Tylas, he glanced at the other who simply shrugged. "I would tell you something in confidence. You know I trust Merydon but he is a horrible liar and I need an ally in this, someone who knows the truth."

Studying Ghriffon for a long few moments, before deciding to trust him, "Tylas was sent here to kill me, we have come to an agreement however. We wish to try and make those who hired him think that I have been killed, at least till he has had a chance to save his brother's life. In order to do this, I'm going to need some help, during the next battle it will appear that I've been killed. Instead I will retreat to the monastery in the hills, they have been exempt from the fighting because of their religious status - no one would think to look for me there. But in order to make this work, I will need to be removed from the field as quickly as possible. I don't know how long I can hold up the illusion of a dead man." A faint grin touched his lips as he watched Ghriffon for a reaction.

He liked the large soldier's quiet way of thinking, finally he was given a nod, "I will do what I can, Merydon will not like being left out of such a risky plan though."

"I know, I will tell him as soon as it is safe to do so, but the less people who know, the better chance it has of working." He sighed leaning back in the seat, letting his eyes close for a moment.

"What of your father?"

"Let my father have his way for a while longer, he will do as he wishes with or without my argument," Caspin answered, running a hand through his hair as he opened his eyes. "When the time comes, I will challenge him." He looked over towards Tylas, wondering about him and his brother. With a sigh he pushed away the unsettling question of whether Tylas's brother truly was innocent or not. Tylas's words the only he had to go on and precious little did he know of either brother. "Will you do this?"

Ghriffon was silent once more for a good length of time, but finally he nodded, "For now. I will not tell Merydon this, for you're right he is a terrible liar and an even worse actor. I do not know him," he gestured towards Tylas, "So unless I find proof otherwise I will lean on your judgment in this matter."

"Thank you," Caspin and Tylas said together, sharing a look that told Ghriffon all that he had already guessed but not yet known for sure. It answered the question he had not wanted to ask.

Ghriffon stood. "I will send food and water up. Undoubtedly you could use both."

A rueful smile, "I would agree."

With that Ghriffon left the room, leaving the two of them alone again.

But they were both silent till the food came, after that they talked a little and when they did it was of nothing serious. Somehow both fearful of bringing up what had passed between them, the past or the future - they were all uncertain topics. It was easier to let them lay where they were and enjoy what little time they had together, not knowing how long it would last.

Near half an hour afterwards, there was a knock on the door admitting the food and then the water that was brought slowly in waves, filling first one and then two tubs. Though neither wished to be away from the other they washed side-by-side, hands occasionally lingering on each other. When they finished Tylas began to dry Caspin off and the favor was returned, making them both smile. They dressed themselves, both tempted to try and dress the others but it did not happen, the smell of food from the other room was too distracting for that. However, meal was only half through when an urgent knock came at the door and news of the oncoming battle delivered to their dismay.

Yet strangely, it was a relief not to have to wait for it any longer; to know that it was there and to simply act.

Tylas was eager to be off, though he tried not to show it, at the same time he hated the fact that he had to leave. Nodding as Caspin turned to look at him both dressed, their weapons strapped on now, ready for what was to come - at least on the outside. What needed to be done would be done and the act would progress as far as they could take it. Before they left Tylas pulled Caspin tight into his arms kissing deeply and passionately, reluctant to let him go only after he had, had his fill both of them breathing harder. Still it was not as much as he would have liked, it would have to do for they were out of time. The battle would be upon them as soon as they left the safety of Ghriffon's quarters.

Then the cry came and they ran from the room, following the soldier who had come to summon them, from the castle to the battlefield. Through the night the battle was raged, Caspin and Tylas - they fought back to back, neither questioning the other, instead complete trust was placed. Caspin expected nothing and Tylas asked nothing in return; instead they watched each other and protected without question, only concern.

At least till the battle began to die out, in the distance the sound of the retreat trumpets was sounded, they had reached the place where they had started. That was when Tylas chose to turn on Caspin, making sure that Merydon was near as he let his blade fly. Caspin did nothing to try and stop him, he cursed softly as blood began to flow, looking up at Tylas with hurt in his eyes. Reaching back before he stopped himself, he cut the ponytail from Caspin's head - evidence - holding it tightly in his fist.

Turning Tylas began running, wanting to stay to make sure Caspin was alright but he could not wait around, he saw the murderous light in Merydon's eyes. But it was Ghriffon who intercepted him and they traded blows fast and furious before Tylas broke free and retreated with the enemy, forcing himself to keep from looking back. Merydon caught Caspin as he collapsed to the ground, bending down hiding the words that were spoken. With Ghriffon and Merydon otherwise occupied, Tylas was free to run, meeting little resistance in his flight across the field, the warriors not pursuing those who ran. It was almost too easy to work his way to the far edge away from those who were retreating, not wanting to get caught among them, Tylas found himself returning the way he had come not so long ago.

Tylas paused only once he had reached the woods to look back and watch, as Caspin was carried off of the field upon a stretcher a blanket pulled up over his prone body. Though the bare necessities of the story had been told, it wasn't until later in private that Merydon was told what had happened. Letting a healer in on the scheme, they made it appear as if Caspin had died because of the wound he had suffered. Caspin had meant to try and speak with his father to repair the rift that had come between them, but things had not fallen as he would have wished them. So it was that he left them as they were, everything happening too fast for him to realize what was going on completely. Taking the draught that was given to him Caspin breathed a soft prayer to the gods to watch over Tylas and bring him back, safely.

Outside, a shadow looked up at the castle just visible in glow of the moon. "I will return," he whispered softly, his mind flying to the actions of the night before, the warm body against his own. Yes, he would come back; he had everything to return for, if only he could save his brother so that he might enjoy this gift without guilt for as long as it would last. Though Tylas held no illusions as to the finality of his relationship with Caspin, he could not quite stifle his hope.

"I will return and I will be your guardian." The words echoed softly in the rain-soaked forest as he turned and fled, leaving no sign that he had been there.