Gods and Guardians

Chapter 26: Friends and Rivals

'Denny,' a maid knelt behind him and lowered a tray of clear glass cups. 'Would you mind?'

Nimrod wore a polite smile and picked a cup. 'Thank you.'

His hair clung tightly to each other and to his neck and shoulders; the water drained slowly back into the pool as he leaned in the corner. The surface of the pool was beautifully littered with red roses, some of which clung to his body. The water was warm and smelt of the green cleaner plant. Damian preferred to lean against the other end of the pool at a diagonal's distance from Nimrod. Nimrod could see him taking a glass and thanking the maid. Damian would still not talk to him. Virtually the only thing he had said to Nimrod since morning was the cold, 'Can we then begin looking for the missoline?'

He avoided Nimrod's eyes all the time, clearly not talking to him. After Nimrod's little chat with Sharzah about Gayna, he felt like talking to someone to take his mind away from her. He set the half-empty cup down on the edge of the pool and began swimming towards Damian.

Damian set his glass down quickly and climbed out. He beckoned at a servant to bring him a towel. The servant responded quickly, wrapping a towel around Damian the moment he was out of the pool.

'Where are you going?' Nimrod queried in an angry voice.

Damian turned back, said nothing.

'I said where are you going?'

'Well, if you don't know, I don't live in water.' He was already walking towards the door.

'What's the matter with you?'

Damian stopped. He didn't turn.

'What's the matter with you?!' Nimrod asked, just reaching Damian's corner.

'Nimrod, if you have nothing better to say, I'm going to prepare for breakfast.'

'Hold it! Are you walking out on me?' The question was laden with authority.

Damian turned now. 'Yes, I am. And what are you going to do about it?'

Nimrod climbed out of the pool immediately, striding naked and threateningly towards Damian. He shoved away the servant attempting to cover him with a towel.

'You will show me some respect as your elder, do you understand?'

Their eyes were locked in a fiery gaze. Their heartbeats ran wild with fury.

'Get away from me.' Damian shoved him back and turned away.

Nimrod seized his hand, but the struggle was interrupted as the door opened. Abel, the younger prince of Meinz, jerked away his eyes on meeting Nimrod's nakedness. He wanted to inform them of when His Majesty was expecting them for breakfast.

'What's going on?'

'We were just about to begin a duel,' Nimrod replied. He accepted a towel finally.

Damian eyed Nimrod again.

'A duel? Right in the bathroom?' Abel said, but the prince's eyes lit up. Every Islander loves to watch a duel.

'His Highness is right,' Damian accepted the challenge. 'Let's meet outside.'

As Damian turned to face the prince, Abel saw three scars across his chest. He didn't think that Damian was the slayer of the riter. The slayer's name was Damian, he learnt, not Savion; and he couldn't be a messenger's escort.

It was a courtyard bounded on its four sides by colonnaded corridors. In the centre was a 12-ace bronze-gilded statue of a horse on its hind legs. The courtyard was carpeted in levelled grass on its unpaved paths. The statue stood on a set of circular engraved steps.