Chapter 6

Agreian's expression rarely changed. He was reputed for his control and stability, but now all that seemed to vanish at what he saw.

"Calintz!" he screamed. Somehow, a man, a half - Yason had entered the cell. Rage swept over Agreian like a volcanic eruption. He registered Calintz pressed against the wall, his body slick with blood and the Yason against him doing the unspeakable. He felt sick. Sick and angry beyond anything he had experienced before. He wanted to rip the private parts of the bastard and make him eat them, he wanted to skin him alive, he wanted to see him burn, he wanted to see him suffer. In a flash he had withdrawn his sword. It only took a few seconds for all this to register in the half-Yason's brain. He pulled out of Calintz, reaching for the whip, but he was far too slow. Agreian was upon him before he even noticed that he'd moved from the doorway. A serious of deadly slashes followed, first one spilling the guts the intruder, the second severing his carotid artery and the third doing what Agreian wished to do most; removing the offending parts. The man screamed, a deep, feral roar as his blood splattered and soaked the General. Agreian watched him stumbled around in agony for a few seconds before he let loose the last, deadly, slice, severing his head clean from his body. He was tingling all over as he watched the blood of the enemy spill over the floor like rivers of molten rage. He was dead…Dead…Dead…

He calmed his breathing, turning to Calintz. He immediately undid the chains and shackles letting the lithe man fall into his arms. He was badly injured and Agreian knew it would take more than magic to cure him. He took off his coat and wrapped it around him, holding him close.

"Hugo…Why…?" Calintz managed. Agreian didn't know what to say, he knew it was all his fault. Calintz's head dropped, his eye's rolling closed as he passed out in his arms. Agreian wanted to scream, he wanted all the Yason to pay more than he ever had. He knew Calintz would never forgive him for this, and he deserved that. He would live with this guilt for the rest of his life.

Calintz, I'm so sorry. I've always somehow managed to let my duty come before my emotions. Perhaps it's a sign that I am weak. Some say emotions are more evocative than any weapon, any pain, any vision. I was jealous, I was a fool. Desirous of another receiving your attention, of taking you away from me. But also disgraced that we lost to the Yason at Mirna. Still why could you not have told me?

Do I fear what others think? Fear that they think me not laudable of my position? Yes…perhaps that is a component of all this strife. I was lucky, I was given a life of privilege, given what I desired…and you, you never had any of that. What happened to you in those lost years, I do not know, you always refused to tell me. The years when we were apart…I always missed you, always thought of you…Then I found you again, you had created something, you had ascended in status. The Tears of Blood, wherever did you unearth that name? It would only make this kingdom more powerful if we joined forces, a bigger army, a greater chance. But, I guess things haven't gone quite so smoothly, have they? Not now anyway. I doubted you, I doubted your loyalty…I am ashamed at myself. You went out of your way to help someone and I dismissed it as incompetence…perhaps because I couldn't believe it at first. You'd always been so frigid, so detached, even to me. I'm beginning to doubt what Haren said, about you never changing, perhaps you are…And now look what I have done…I'm so sorry…

Eonis saw the General walking through the main hall, towards the teleporter. He walked purposely, his eye's never shifting from the path ahead as if compelled by another force. In his arms, wrapped in his majestic, dark, coat, was a man. She didn't recognise who he was, his hair had come free from the clasp which restrained it and cascaded over his face, matted with blood and dirt. He looked dead, the way his body hung limply and lifelessly, his arms swinging with the motion of Agreian's stride.

"General, what's happened?" She said as she ran up to him. As she came closer she noticed the slim frame, the white of his hair under the blood, the pallid skin…it can't be…

"Oh my God, Calintz!" she shrieked.

"It's ok, he's alive," Agreian said, not slowing down nor turning to face her.

"What happened? He's not conscious!"

"There was an intruder, I'll explain later. Eonis, inform every guard in this building to keep an eye out, arrest anyone suspicious. I want more people guarding the main doors, make sure they're trained and armed well,"

"Sir…"

"Do it!" he barked. It startled her – she had rarely ever heard the General raise his voice. She watched him go, his boots resonating throughout the great hall. A tsunami of thoughts and questions filled her mind. She could not help but feel that the intruder was no other than the man she had seen with Mistress Ladrienne

Agreian took Calintz to his private chambers on the third floor. He needed to get him cleaned up or his wounds would get infected before he could endeavour to heal them. He took him into the bathroom and started running warm water into the tub. He rummaged around in a cabinet, finding various healing oils which he sprinkled into the swirling water then lifted Calintz gently in. He examined the vicious lacerations the whip had made. It was horrible, how could anyone do such a thing? Every cut made him more angry with himself and the Yason. He tenderly began to clean them, letting the water turn crimson every time he rinsed the cloth. He soaped out the dirt and dried blood which matted Calintz's hair and applied salve to the bruises on his face. Soon the water was a dark, deep, scarlet and Agreian began to worry about how much blood he had lost.

He finished cleaning the cuts and dried Calintz off, carrying him through to the bedroom and lying him down on the soft sheets of the expansive bed. He then set about trying to heal him the best he could. Despite what people believed, Agreian was adept at the healing arts just as well as he was with a sword. His mother had taught him well throughout his years in the Great Temple, shown him that while blue magic could save lives, it could also take them. However, his magic wasn't working as lucratively as he hoped. Some of the gashes were too deep to heal by magic alone, and there more of them than the others. Agreian took out a needle and thread from his cabinet and set about stitching up the deepest ones. It took a long time and Calintz seemed to drift in and out of reality, every now and then trying to push his hands away. Agreian whispered to him that it was going to be alright, that it would get better but the younger man was delirious, trying to swipe at invisible foes around him in some horrific nightmare.

"Calintz, you're safe now…Shhh…" He opened his eyes for a moment, a look of hate flashing through them as they met with Agreian's. It cut him like an ice bolt searing through his heart and he turned away, unable to look at his friend's face. It was brief, however, no sooner had opened his eyes than he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Once he had completed the stitches, Agreian tucked Calintz beneath the bedcovers. His face was relaxed now, at last, and he seemed to sleep soundly. Agreian watched him, brushing a strand of silvery hair from his eyes. How could he ever face him again, after all this?