Warlord's Ward

His Tortured Body

"Who is the help?"

"As I told you before, my brother. The King of Creatures."

There was pride in his voice.

I remembered he'd told me that before. But I'd eventually concluded that when he said 'brother' he'd more meant another mage.

I'd heard him talk of the King of Creatures before. And I knew a little about the myths of the man from hearing about it here. He supposedly resided in an all-white stone castle surrounded by a ring of fire. Supposedly he was a vicious being capable of fighting most any beast. A giant among men.

"He is a brother of blood or of magic?" I asked.

Warlord looked from the bird to me and smiled. "He is my true brother. We grew up together on the outskirts of WixWood. My whole family. My two sisters and all my brothers."

I wanted to hear more but remembered how aggressive he'd become with me, last time I'd probed into his family, so I decided against it. I still ached from that last punishing taking.

"You miss them." It escaped my lips before I could retract it.

"Of course. Don't you miss those you've loved?" He looked at me.

"You killed them all." My tone hardened as I collected some bit of bitterness to escape a moment of near bonding. Reminding myself that he was my enemy.

Warlord whispered into the side of the bird, who cocked his head as though listening intently. Then he jounced his hand. Sending it airborn.

The bird took off, red wings pelting the air.

Flying with purpose.

To his brother?

"That I did." He sighed. Finally acknowledging what I'd said. "Like I've killed countless before and will many more. It is good to remind yourself of that simple fact."

I hated how he said things like he knew precisely what I was doing or thinking. It was almost eerie.

***

"You make it sound so deplorable, yet you keep doing it! Why?" I cried. Tears bursting to my eyes. An unholy river of them that had been stamped down the whole time I'd been here.

A prisoner in this castle.

"I've told you." He growled. Turning on me fully and catching my upper arms. "It is not as though I have a choice in it."

"There is always a choice!" I ripped free of his grip and gave him my back. Stalking back into the chamber.

"Do you think this has all been something of my making?" He gestured around him in frustration. Splaying his arms made several deep cuts along his chest peel open and began seeping blood down his abdomen.

I watched their trickling path in horror. Covering my mouth as I realized I could see bits of tissue deep beneath his skin when they opened.

They're deep.

Deep enough for infection to set in.

"Yes, that." He dropped his arms. Jaw ticking. "Did I do this to myself to. Was that also my choice? Because it seemed as much my choice as anything else around here."

I chewed my cheek and walked hesitantly toward him.

He watched me with that predatory gaze but as I reached for one bleeding wound, he didn't retreat from me.

He has to be wondering if I'll jab one. He knows how angry I am.

His head was lifted proudly, and his shoulders heaved with emotion.

Something I'd rarely seen Warlord show.

Yet he's spilling over with it.

***

I trailed a finger over one gaping wound.

Making him hiss through his teeth and the muscle under his skin jump at the pain. Still, he didn't move away.

"Why would you let them do this? Your powerful enough to stop them."

"Jade." He drew a long breath. "You keep asking the same question in different ways."

"Perhaps I'm not getting the answer I'm truly looking for."

"And what is that?" His black brows lifted in curiosity.

"What would free you?"

"Finding a way to turn my sister back. To take her with me and go."

I gave him a searching look.

"And a way to take you with me." He added so softly it was barely audible.

***

King Detry stood on his balcony watching the mages try to train without Hawk in the Training Gardens. "They're doing quite poorly."

"They've not yet established a new Second in Command to train them."

"Assign that to Warlord." Detry turned from the railing and looked at the advisor waiting patiently behind him.

"It'll be a time before he recovers." The advisor followed Detry into his personal chambers where the king slumped down into one of his plush gilded seats.

"Then I suggest he assign one promptly." The King said dispassionately.

"You truly do not like him, do you?"

"Not in the least. I hate his kind. Anything of magic or changing should be abolished from this land. Especially him. He's a rogue pawn that could prove highly dangerous if not kept under careful control."

"If you hate the mages, then why do you keep a Guild of them?"

"To fight fire with fire." Detry rested his cheek on a fist.

The advisor assessed the King. Knowing that the liege was a formidable man. He was large and as broad shouldered as a bear. He had cold, calculating gray eyes and hair that was nearly snowy white despite his youth. A form of blonde.

Women who didn't know him, found the King quite magnetic.

Women who did, steered from him.

***

There was a light knock on the King's chamber door which had both of them sending it a quizzical look.

"Are you expecting someone?" The advisor asked.

"No." The King rose. A gold cape sweeping behind him as he strode to the door. Utterly unafraid as he ripped it open to confront the intruder.

But a diminutive, little raven-haired beauty stood there staring up at him.

"Exactly who are you?" The King said in a harsh tone. Despite that his gaze swept over the girl appreciatively.

She was fair enough to peak his interest. More than fair, truthfully.

"Tanya, My Liege." She lowered her head in deference.

"You're a mage."

"I am." Her chin hitched up and she met his look levelly.

Making the advisor behind him shift uncomfortably. He knew what typically happened to women who dared look their King in the eye.

"And what the devil do you want?" King Detry demanded impatiently.

"To be the new Second in Command of the Mage's Guild."