Rhistmaege

Reunited

Sir Maclinton Maggutton clapped Montiverus on the shoulder, then grabbed Dovi by the wrist and pulled him into the shadowy room. "Was beginning to worry about you two," said Mac. He closed the door behind them.

The room was small, drab and dark. It smelled of stale sweat, fresh urine and horribly soured wine. A single candle burned atop a shoddily sawed in half Applecrest Vineyards wine cask. Before Dovi could glance around the room any further, someone sprang from behind the door and wrapped him in a bear-hug.

"Dovi!" screeched Rabby.

"Rabbrick Maclinton, enough!" seethed Mac through gritted teeth. "You'll have every Rhistlock maege up here with that damn nonsense. Quiet down, and damn it, put him down." Mac glowered at Rabby, who seemed not to notice, and raised eyebrows questioningly at Monti. "You handled all that Venom? You son of a bitch. Everything go as planned? How much time do we have?"

Monti held up his burned palms. "These are the only casualties, so far. I left Belesarum and Craeve in deep slumber. Didn't linger to see who was after us. Doesn't matter. We need to move. They'll be on our heels soon enough."

"Everyone here know the plan but me?" asked Dovi. His eyes flicked from face to face. Why am I always left in the dark?

"I'm here to keep you safe. This one," Mac threw his chin towards Rabby. "-is only here because he doesn't know how to follow orders. Lucky he's not swinging from the gallows already."

Rabby shrugged his shoulders.

"But Mrs. Maclinton will be-" said Dovi. Mac moved off to the side, revealing two hooded men sitting on a lopsided bed in the corner.

"That's taken care of. My brother Hrovan has a small cabin in the Kielwood. Aedennia will have her hands full chasing his little ones around. She'll be just fine," said Mac, seeming to try convincing himself more than anyone else.

"Who are these two? More scum bucket friends of my father's? I don't need their help. Go. We don't need you," said Dovi with heat.

"Dovi-" started Rabby. He shook his head and put a finger to his lips.

"I don't care. Tired of dealing with him." Dovi shot a nasty look at his father and threw his hands in the air.  "I've been putting up with his garbage too long. Trash friends of his are no friends of mine. Go."

The taller of the two men pushed himself up off the cot. "Now I've been called a few things in my day, but trash is a new one, even for a low-life scum bucket such as me." He pushed his hood back and flashed an insipid grin.

Dovi's face went from a flush red to ashen white in the blink of an eye. He dropped to a knee and lowered his chin to his chest. "Sir, uh, your Majesty, er, I mean, your Lordship, I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot. Please forgive my insolence."

Prince Wulfgen bent down, put a finger beneath Dovi's chin and lifted his head. "You've every right to be angry from what I've been able to gather, but you need to find a way to put it aside. There are many of them out there and too few of us here. What's a Prince without family to back him? An angry Prince? Sure enough, but more importantly, an outlaw without a warm bed to call home, much the same as you, no? Leave the angry boy behind. Your father is in this with us now. Put your hostility to bed."

Dovi looked up at the prince and was alarmed at what he saw. Radiant sea blue eyes shone fiercely, but they sat oddly upon a lifeless shore. Pale skin stretched tight upon high cheekbones, giving a gaunt and hollow look. Curly, black hair was shorn roughly and wisps of gray poked out from his jutted chin. This was not the lordly man Dovi saw years ago when his father was sent off to war. They had called him The Wolf back then. This was no wolf. This was a broken, desperate man. That scared Dovi more than many things had. "What happened to you?" he asked without thinking.