Kiss the Darkness Ch. 06

Brother Neil smiled as tears rose to his eyes. "His majesty is too kind."

Christian shook his head. "I am but a servant to my people. It's my greatest honor to help those in need."

Alexander squeezed Christian's hand tight as he smiled up at him. "That's my kind and loving husband." Alexander said. "He's the King the people need."

Brother Asgall nodded. "I agree."

"I'm not King yet." Christian smiled. "But when my time comes I will accept the crown with pride, understanding, and compassion to my people."

"Then you will be a great King." Brother Asgall told him. "As I always knew you would."

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The three monks walked the couple to gate of the monastery where they stopped so that

Christian and Alexander could mount their horses. The first of the two suns shone high above them as the third made ready to take it's place in the great sky. The day was bright and warmer than usual. Alexander had his cloak fixed around his shoulders but the warmth of the morning suns made it almost unnecessary. Still, he looked dashing in his clothes, the circlet in place, and his blade at his side. As Christian looked him over he thought to himself, 'He looks like a Prince.'

Brother Neil opened the gate and he bid the couple good luck and the blessings of the Gods as they would need both when addressing the King. Alexander was nervous, and frightened, but he tried his best not to show it. 'Have faith in the gods.' He told himself over and over again. 'Let their will be known.' They waved good-bye, and the monks watched as they rode out onto the street. A moment later and they were out of sight of the monastery. Brother Neil closed the gate then he and the others walked back inside.

The road was all but deserted as Christian and Alexander rode towards the castle. The market was in the opposite direction and other than an elderly couple pushing a cart of pottery, no one else was around. Alexander was able to ride along side Christian, the elderly couple looked up and smiled as they passed. Of course they didn't recognize Alexander but they thought he was a young noble or perhaps a servant to the Prince. Neither seemed to think there was anything out of the ordinary about seeing the two men on horses, and Christian was thankful for that. It would make their journey to the palace easier if they didn't have to stop and answer questions.

They had about another twenty minutes to go before the gates of Avimur came into the view but from where they were on the road, Alexander could already see the curtain wall of the castle and the looming towers and battlements. It really was a grand structure. The entrance was fortified by a great barbican where the guard house was located. An outer draw bridge and an interior one served as more protection from invaders. The main building cut across the court yard, opening into the chapel in back that was attached to the keep. Alexander had never been to the palace before but he'd seen paintings of it and despite his fear of meeting the King, he was none the less excited about seeing the great palace and walking it's massive halls.

The closer they got the more nervous and excited Alexander became. He could hear the sounds of horses neighing, cows mooing in a near by pasture, and the general buzz of life within the castle walls. He picked up his pace a bit, urging the horse on. Christian laughed and raced after him. Alexander looked back and smiled. He loved the feel of the wind whipping through his hair and warmth of the suns on his face. The trill of the moment was evident on his face and on Christian's, briefly. Alexander noticed at once though when Christians expression changed. He rode up beside Alexander and took hold of the reins to his horse, slowing him down.

Alexander was confused at first then he looked up the road and saw what Christian was looking at. Two of the palace guards were riding towards them. The one on the left looked like the guards they had seen before but the older man to the right was dressed in a different uniform, and was more decorated. Alexander wondered if he was a general perhaps. Definitely someone of great importance and some reverence. He ordered his companion to slow as they approached the couple. Christian rode his horse around to the front of Alexander, placing himself between him and the guards.

"Halt!" The older of the two guards demanded when he saw them. He and his companion drew their swards and pointed them at Christian.

Christian frowned. "You dare to draw your swords on me?" He growled.

"We only want the witch." The elder guard told him. " Stand aside. We have no quarrel with you, your majesty, though I'm certain your father has a few words for you."

"I'm sure he does." Christian sneered at the man. "Be that as it may, I will not stand aside, nor stand down. If you force me to, I will fight you."

The older guard sighed. "Be reasonable sire, this witch is wanted by the King for questioning in the events that lead to the death of three of my guards. Guards whose mounts I believe you are currently riding."

"I was there." Christian told him. "They attacked us. What happened was unfortunate and in no way intentional. Alexander was only trying to defend himself."

"With black magic?" The guard scowled. "The King has ordered him to be brought in, why do you protect him? Turn the bastard over to us and there will be no trouble."

Christian narrowed his eyes angrily. "Take care, Girart, how you address my companion. He is of royal blood, and my husband!"

Girart's eyes widened as he glared at the Prince. "What are you saying?" He demanded.

"We are married." Christian told him. "Before the Gods and the Gwendell. High Priest of Avimur. We wed last night, in the temple of Xagros at the monastery in Qedor. We spent our wedding night in the guest cottage behind the monastery. Our union was consummated there. If you do not believe me then speak to the Gwendell yourself. He inspected the bed sheets and saw the virginal blood. Alexander is my legal spouse under the laws of this land, and not even the King can dispute it."

Girart withdrew his sword, placing it back in it's sheath. The guard at his side did the same, though reluctantly. "You know you're father will not be pleased with this." Girart told the prince. "This...you're 'husband' has been charged with witchcraft. Such a crime is punishable by death."

"He's no witch." Christian scowled. "And when I speak to my father he will know truth about who and what he is."

Girart became suspicious then. He looked to the side but Christian was blocking his view of Alexander. "Why does he hide behind you?" Girart asked. "Is he so afraid to face me?"

"Not at all." Alexander said softly. He moved his horse to stand beside Christian and for the first time Girart saw him in full view.

Girart moved closer, his sword still sheathed though Christian watched him cautiously, his hand on the hilt of his own sword and ready to draw it at a moments notice. Alexander sat atop the horse, his head held high as he stared at the guard, showing no fear. Girart looked into Alexander's face, he peered into his eyes, and then he gasped. "It can't be." He hissed. "This is...impossible."

"Why?" Alexander narrowed his eyes suddenly. "Why is it impossible? Because I'm supposed to be dead? Because my mother was supposed to have been killed with me in her belly?"

"You're not supposed to exist at all." Girart told him. He turned his attention then to the prince. "Christian, this man, your husband, he is something much more than a witch. If you knew..."

"I know exactly what he is." Christian said. "I know who he is and I know what was done to his kind. Obviously from your reaction you know who he is as well."

Girart nodded. "I was with your father during the battle of the rune beach, when Ar'gas and his army aided us in over throwing the Dronar. I knew Ar'gas Kerred. I fought beside him. I would know his face anywhere and I see it now staring back at me through the eyes of this youth."

"Then you also know of my father's treachery. Of his betrayal to a man that wanted peace, that fought for for him, bled for him, and probably saved us all from the Dronar horde. You know all this and still you follow him? And you have the balls to call my husband a bastard!"

"Guillame is my King." Girart glowered. "And your father! So, I caution you to choose your words wisely, your majesty. You are not King yet."

"I may not wear the King's crown I but I still have my honor." Christian hissed. "And I know there is no honor in poisoning innocent men."

"Your father did what he did to protect the Kingdom." Girart Protested.

"Protect them from what?" Alexander snapped. "The Draveil were your allies, not your enemies!"

Girart turned to Alexander, glaring at him angrily. "Boy, I am the Captain of the King's guard! Do not speak to me with such disrespect."

"And I am a Prince!" Alexander rebutted, much to Girart's chagrin. "As well as the rightful heir to Vessard. I will speak to you how I see fit."

Christian grinned proudly as he listened to Alexander. There was that same fire and fury he'd first seen in the forest when Alexander had admonished Christian. Alexander had spirit, no one could deny that. He wasn't one to allow anyone to speak down to him, prince, guard, or commoner. No matter who it was, Alexander spoke his mind.

Girart though was not impressed. "Is that why you came back here?" He asked Alexander. "To claim your father's throne and avenge his death?"

"I came here seeking answers." Alexander told him. "I didn't know until we arrived at the monastery who my father even was. All I had been told was that he died in battle. My mother went to her grave keeping the truth from me but my grandmother tried to tell me everything the night she died. She didn't have the strength though and passed before all could be revealed. She did tell me that King Guillame had betrayed my mother and ordered her death, only a kind guard felt pity for her and allowed her to escape."

"And yet you came back here." Girart sighed. "You should have stayed away. No one knew of your existence. For all the King knows you are dead. Why did you come back? You could have lived out the rest of your life in peace but now you've started something I fear can only end in your death."

"Not while I still breath." Christian stated, firmly.

Girart eyed him carefully. "Are you ready to fight your own father then?" He asked.

Christian nodded. "If it means protecting the man I love, yes."

Girart shook his head. "If you want to protect him then send him away. Put him on a ship and send him far from this place. We can tell your father that he ran away in the middle of the night, or better yet, tell him you struck him down yourself and left his body in the mountains. The guards will search for days and find no trace of him. They will assume the body was taken by animals. At least if your father thinks he's dead he won't pursue him."

Christian narrowed his eyes as he listened to Girart's words. "Is that what you told Ismey, when she and her hand maid were allowed to disappear into the night?"

Girart raised an eyebrow, then slowly nodded. "There was no honor in murdering a pregnant woman. Ar'gas was dead. I thought the threat was over."

"You?" Alexander gasped. "You were the one who allowed my mother to escape?"

"I was." Girart told him. "And I begged her never to return. But now here you are. If the two of you return to the palace then the King will know of my deception. If I recognized you so easily you can rest assured that he will as well. Once he realizes what's happened he will take both our heads."

Alexander looked to Christian. "My love, this man showed mercy to my mother when no one else did. We can't now allow him to pay for that act of kindness with his life. It's not right."

Christian shook his head. "A moment ago he was ready to turn you over to my father."

"But things have changed. I owe him a debt."

"You owe me nothing." Girart told him. "I did what I felt was right and I will stand by that decision. Even in the face of death I will admit to deceiving the King and take whatever punishment he has planned for me. At least I will die with my honor in tact."

"You should not have to die at all." Alexander looked down sadly. "My mother would not want that. She spoke highly of the man who saved us."

"We all have our parts to play." Girart said. "I've done things in my past that I am not proud of. I knew of the King's plan to kill your father and I did nothing. I thought I was being loyal to my King but I see now that it was cowardice."

"No one would ever think you a coward, Girart." Christian told him. "You're the bravest man that I know. I will speak to my father on your behalf and beg him for his mercy, but I will not send Alexander away. He is my husband, he belongs at my side, and it's time that my father answered for his sins. You had to know this day would come."

Girart nodded. "I did. I just hoped that I was wrong."

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With both Christian and Alexander refusing to turn back Girart was at a loss of what to do. They each seemed determined to confront the King though Girart thought that a very bad idea. Guillame was not known for his patience or his mercy, and he did not like insubordinate in anyone, especially his own children. What Christian had done would be the ultimate insult to the King. It wasn't just that had he defied his wishes, but by marrying Alexander, he had made a very public statement that he was above his father's rule. That may not have been his intention, but Girart knew that that was how the King was going to see it.

Not only had Christian gone against his father and humiliated him before his guests, he had bound himself in marriage to the one person on all of Apra that his father despised the most; and old King Guillame hadn't even discovered the worst of it yet. Once it was made known to him that Ar'gas's son and heir lived, not even the might of the Gods above would be able to squelch his wrath. Girart just had to trust that Christian knew what he was doing or at least was ready for the ramifications of his actions.

As they crossed the first bridge that lead into the barbican and past the guard house, many of the young guards had gathered in the quad to see. Cheers arose from the men as they watched their captain lead the Prince and the supposed 'witch' into Avimur. Alexander cringed as the men called for his head.

"Burn the witch!" One of the men shouted.

"Murderer!" Screamed another.

Christian had had enough. He stopped, holding the reins to Alexander's horse, and drew his sword. "Silence!" He yelled, addressing the soldiers. "The next man to yell out will taste my steel!"

The cheers stopped as the men stared at him in utter disbelief. "You have all been told that the man sitting next to me is a witch. You have been told wrong. He is not a witch! He is the son of Ar'gas Kerred and heir to the Draveil throne. The power he wields is as old as the mountains that overlook Avimur. The blood of Gods runs through his veins for he is a direct descendant of the God Tamus. To call him a witch is blasphemy."

An eerie silence fell over the guards and anyone else standing in the vicinity. Some could hardly believe what they had just heard. A living Draveil seated before them. They didn't know whether to be in awe or fear of him.

"The Draveil are dead." One of the men stepped forward. "This...child...can not be the son of the Demon King. It's impossible."

Christian eyed him sternly. "Do you call your Prince a liar?" He demanded of the man.

The guard bowed his head and took a step back. "Of course not, your majesty. If you say so then he must be who you say."

"I do say." Christian stated. "His name is Alexander. Alexander Kerred-Faremanne."

The men looked to each other in confusion. They looked to Girart for confirmation of what the Prince had just told them but Girart only bowed his head and sighed wearily.

"You heard me right." Christian told them. "Alexander is my legal husband and your Prince. As such, I expect you to show him the same amount of respect that you show me. I will hear no more talk of witches and black magic. Now, move aside and let us pass. We have business at the palace."

The guards moved to the sides, forming two lines and bowed as the riders passed them. A wave of confusion had taken over the quad as the servants around them too bowed and made way for them. A hush of whispers arose from the crowd, and all around men and women were watching as the Prince rode on with his groom at his side. Christian knew that gossip would spread quickly but it mattered little him now. He was prepared to announce to the world his marriage to Alexander and to hell with what anyone thought about it.

Alexander could feel all eyes on him as they rode on. It was an uncomfortable sensation but he did his best to mask his feelings of unease. He couldn't show even the slightest hint of weakness or fear. The scrutinizing glances of the guards and servants who were gathered in the courtyard were looking for him to falter. Alexander held his head high and smiled kindly at the people but while maintaining an air of authority. He was a prince, their prince, but even his marriage to Christian had not yet secured his office. Alexander's true coronation would take place in the minds and hearts of his subjects, if they found him worthy of his station. If not, they would never accept him, and he would forever be an outsider.

They crossed the second bridge and were now entering the main courtyard of the Palace. Alexander looked around with great admiration. Qedor was a charming little village but sheltered within the walls of Avimur was something more grand and wonderful than Alexander could have imagined. The paintings he'd seen in the past really did the place little justice. It was like riding into another world, completely enclosed within the secure folds of the Kingdom's protective arms.

Immediately upon entering he was faced with the main building of the palace. A long fortified structure that separated the court yard into two halves. the main building led to a chapel in back that was then connected to the keep. The great hall also ran between the keep and the main building. On one side of the main building sat the cook house, smoke house, and other smaller buildings associated with the preparation of food. On the other side was a market, more grand even than the one that Alexander had seen in the outskirts of the city the first night he'd met Christian. The Palace was in deed the center of life for all of Avimur and the people seemed happy and productive.

Girart led the way, past the main building to the great hall itself. There he stopped and dismounted. Balin, the guard who'd accompanied him, along with Christian and Alexander all dismounted as well. Balin ordered the horses to be taken to the stables and at once a young squire jumped into action and led the horses away. The four of them stood before the main doors now, waiting as the tension grew between them. Four guards stood before the entrance, awaiting orders. Alexander took a deep breath. Christian reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. Girart looked to the Prince as if to say it wasn't too late to turn back.

Christian nodded. With a heavy sigh, Girart ordered the guards to open the doors. "This is it." Christian said as he looked at Alexander. "Are you ready?"

Alexander looked up, his eyes wide with worry and fear. "No." He said in a soft, small voice, "But we've come too far to turn back now."

Christian leaned forward and kissed Alexander on the lips. "I won't leave your side." he promised. "Not for even one moment."