Chapter 24

He managed to walk with a steady gait although his knees were a bit weak after sharing that kiss with Quynn, but Amyr was able to keep her and the healer from realizing how much his volatile wife affected him. Since Amyr could not blame the blood bond any more, he had to accept that he craved that woman in his arms more than any other, and there had been many, many women with whom he had dallied before and after she had come into his life. Those women were faceless bodies that offered and gave him pleasure. Quynn had come to mean more, far more even than a means to an end. The realization both frightened and excited him as he imagined a future that included her.

The man to whom Carrinda had directed him was happy to leave his work behind to lead him to Taeron, and seeing the large pile of wood that he was chopping, Amyr did not blame him. There was a forest nearby to which Bashat led him, following tracks in the ground that Amyr did not see. He imagined Taeron would have the skill to see them, but Amyr had never seen a reason for the crown prince to track anything when men who were skilled at it would be at his disposal. Men like Taeron.

Amyr wanted to push back the rancor he felt towards Taeron, but the bitter cold of his jealousy was preferable to the pain he felt in his heart when he thought of all that Taeron had taken from him. Although he had never told her, Quynn had surely deduced the resentment he felt for her brother for he had seen how pleased she had been to tell him that Yori had gone with Taeron.

Taeron had always been a part of his life, living with his family, sharing the love of his parents and siblings. Taeron had only recently learned that his mother had been forced to give him up to the emperor in surety that she would remain loyal to him. Shortly after giving birth to Taeron, Larya had been appointed governor of the first moon amid whispers that she had born the emperor a bastard for which he had rewarded her. He had never believed the rumors. Amyr had always known his mother to treat the beautiful white-haired female as if they were sisters, and when Larya had placed her infant in Arora's arms, they had both been in tears.

Amyr had been old enough to remember the moment, but not old enough to realize what was happening. His father had hoped that Lord Duo would acknowledge his son and take Larya into his house, but he did not. To that end, Amyr had spent much of his childhood traveling between the moons and his father's palace as Taeron was shuttled between his parents and the imperial household.

So he and Taeron had been like brothers for as long as Amyr remembered, and when he realized that Taeron was Lord Duo's son, he had been glad that Lord Duo did not take him into his house. Taeron never spoke of his hurt, and if he had, Amyr doubted he could feel any sympathy for him when Amyr thought of Lord Duo as another father and enjoyed his favor. He did not want to share the affections of his father's imperial guard, certainly not with the bastard. Nothing Taeron had done could gain his father's approval because he was in mourning for the life he had given up and was probably ashamed of the moment of weakness with Larya that resulted in the son he did not want.

Amyr had been as amused as everyone else when Taeron had been forced to make an oath to a woman to act as her imperial guard. But as in every other facet of Taeron's charmed life, he had not only distinguished himself, he had earned his father's acknowledgment. Even worse, Amyr had lost the only brother that he felt any kinship with to his new family.

He would not let Taeron take his son from him as well.

They came upon the small hunting party in a clearing where they must have stopped to rest, and Bashat left Amyr with the group. Amyr immediately saw Yori sitting on Stryfe's lap, the latter holding a scroll out before him and pointing out symbols. As he watched his son concentrate on what his uncle told him, Amyr forgot all about Taeron to marvel at the child he and Quynn had created in a trance that had been designed to kill him. He saw Quynn in the boy's beautiful features, but he also saw himself in his dark hair and brown eyes that would gradually lighten to amber.

Sensing his gaze, Yori looked up, but when their eyes met, he looked quickly away and he must have tensed because Stryfe raised his head and his brows drew together in a frown. Amyr could not blame Yori for wanting to reject him because he doubted any child wanted to hear his father plotting to dispose of him. He deserved the pain his son gave him by refusing to acknowledge his presence now.

"Well, well, princeling, I see that you have finally risen. Your snores were loud enough to awaken a hibernating bear. In fact, you sounded like a bear growling when Taeron tried to tell you that he was leaving. Have you come here to scold him for leaving your side?"

"The thought occurred to me," he said. "Where is he?"

"Jeshed scented a brush beast, whatever that is, and they left to hunt it."

"It is a ferocious beast that is very delicious," Yori added. "Lord Mordrad serves it only at feasts because it is difficult to hunt."

Amyr looked at Yori now, emboldened that his son had spoken to him. "Taeron is on the dragon then?" He had wondered why Jeshed had not attacked when he took Quynn in his arms. Amyr had suspected that if he had tried anything more with her, the dragon would have appeared and swallowed him whole.

"Not exactly," said Stryfe with a smirk.

"Jeshed has taken his other form," Yori told Amyr. "He was going to wait until he returned to his planet, but he changed his mind and did it today."

"He has taken another form?" Amyr was about to ask what that might be when he heard two male voices in conversation approaching. Turning, he saw Taeron first, one end of a thick, long branch on his shoulder. Hanging from the branch was a dead creature twice his size with tusks as long as Taeron's sword, gutted and ready to be mounted on a spit.

Behind him, carrying the other end of the branch was a man Amyr had never seen before. He had white hair that flowed past his shoulders, and he was almost of equal size to Taeron. He heard Yori call out to Jeshed, but Amyr did not believe the man could be the dragon until he was close enough to see his colorless gaze which now seemed to have a hint of violet. He was wearing only a tunic which he must have been given by Taeron who wore only his undershirt over his leggings and boots.

There was laughter in his strange gaze when it met Amyr's. "Ah, the princeling has arrived. Did I not tell you that he would, paladin?"

"That you did," muttered Taeron, his tone betraying his annoyance and indulgence.

So how did one speak to a dragon walking in human form? Should he bow and scrape to him?

Jeshed smiled wryly at him. "I don't think you are capable of such behavior, Prince Amyr."

Of course you know how to read my thoughts.

Your thoughts are easier to read than many.

Perhaps you can tell me why you have done this? Why you have taken this form?

"Hey, it's rude to carry on a conversation with others present," spoke up Stryfe. "I can't hear you, but I would love to know what you two arrogant bastards are saying to each other. Emperor Trey would like to know as well."

"I am not an arrogant bastard," spoke up Jeshed.

"There is nothing more arrogant than a dragon." Stryfe chuckled and Yori giggled.

"Let's get this thing up to the castle," suggested Taeron. "It's not as light as it looks."

Amyr had hoped to spend some time with Yori, but his son dashed to the side of the dragon man. "Did you kill the beast?" he asked in awe.

Jeshed smiled down at him. "I would like to say that I had, but when it was bearing down on me, I tried to change back into my dragon form and failed. If it were not for the paladin, I would be dead."

And all was once again right in the world, thought Amyr with annoyance. Taeron could even best a dragon.

Only this time, amended Jeshed. If I had been in dragon form …

Dream on, dragon. If you went up against Taeron in dragon form, he would gut you like that beast.

"Are you guys talking again?" demanded Stryfe with annoyance. He had fallen into step beside his brother and Amyr realized he was walking with Jeshed and Yori. "Or thinking to each other? Can you hear me if I think to you?"

There was silence for a moment and then Amyr thought. He is a buffoon.

Jeshed frowned at him and then said to Stryfe, "I can speak to Prince Amyr because he is a sorcerer."

"I am a sorcerer, too," spoke up Yori who glanced shyly around Jeshed to look at Amyr. "Like my father."

A man should acknowledge his son, not the other way around, but Amyr felt his heart swell with pride that he could not have imagined to hear Yori refer to him as father . "I think you are a more powerful sorcerer than your father," he told Yori with a smile.

"No argument there," said Stryfe with a chuckle. "I have yet to see proof that you have any powers."

Amyr frowned at him but he could not argue when he had lost his powers. Since coming to Norvana he had begun to sense the feelings of others, but that skill was sporadic.

"Guerani are healers and protectors," spoke up Taeron. "Not sorcerers. Prince Dagan is the only sorcerer I have ever seen."

"When fighting beside her mate, Princess Shamara can cast powerful magic," Stryfe said. "I spent many months recording the events that occurred in the trances she shared with Prince Dagan."

"Holy magic," agreed Jeshed. "The same magic that flows in Taeron's blood."

"I have no magic," muttered Taeron.

Amyr looked at Jeshed. How does Taeron have magic? He is not Guerani.

You may not want to hear what I have to say, and his humility will not allow him to believe it, but the gods have favored him because of the purity of his heart.

Amyr almost refuted aloud any purity in Taeron, but before he could he was struck with understanding of what Jeshed spoke. A lesser man would have given in to dark impulses long ago, but not Taeron. Born of a notorious whore, accused of being the emperor's bastard while the man that should claim him did not, Taeron had never given in, never sulked in resentment or grown despondent with shame. He had worked with painstaking diligence to become the man he was, and now when he looked at Taeron, he could see a faint golden glow around him.

Glad you see things my way now. Jeshed was smirking. As for Quynn, you do not need to fear that I will tempt her away from you.

I did not even have the thought. Well, Amyr would never admit to it, but how could he not wonder how she would react to the man the dragon had become after spending so much time with him?

Jeshed snorted aloud. Your thoughts lie as poorly as your lips do.

You were saying...?

I have a preordained mate.

Who is she?

I don't know yet, but I will when I meet her.

"So why do you think you cannot change into a dragon?" asked Stryfe, interrupting their conversation.

"I do not know. I just knew it was time for me to take another form and it happened." Jeshed grinned, showing a row of white perfect teeth. "I am glad I am such a worthy specimen. I am also glad that I was not on Yolovia because I would not want to have the form of a banshee."

"Perhaps you need to return to your own planet to regain your form?" suggested Taeron.

"The dragon may not have been your true form," said Stryfe. "Quynn did say that the woman Malya, your mother, claimed to be Zayron, and they are, as I have been able to discover, shapeshifters. You may have taken the form that my sister willed upon you."

"I did enjoy being a dragon," sighed Jeshed mournfully. Yori giggled and Jeshed smiled down at him. "Perhaps one day I will regain that form and I will take you for a ride in the skies. For now, you shall have to ride upon my shoulders as you do your uncle's."

"I am tired of walking now," admitted Yori with a shy glance at Amyr.

Amyr had never carried a child on his shoulders, not even his younger siblings, but the hopeful look in his son's eyes coupled with the step Stryfe had taken toward them made him decide to do it. Had he not seen his father do it with his younger siblings? Surely he could do it too.

Unfortunately, Amyr misjudged his strength when he took his son's hand and swung him up because the momentum made him stumble back and he fell into a bush managing to roll onto his back so that Yori fell atop him rather than onto the ground. He was horrified that he might have hurt his son, but he heard Yori giggling and was chagrined to hear Stryfe howling with laughter.

"That is going in the official record, princeling!"

Amyr did not know what Stryfe found so humorous until he realized he had landed in a particularly large pile of odorous sludge. Yori scrambled quickly away from him, now openly laughing and even Taeron was smiling. Amyr was annoyed to be the cause of their entertainment, but he managed to stop himself from saying something he should not in front of Yori.

When his son took his hand to help him up, a tingling warmth spread rapidly through his body form his touch and Amyr felt as if another world had opened for him. He heard soft murmurings from somewhere inside him, and as he glanced around at the men accompanying them, he realized he could sense their feelings. Looking back at his son, his eyes fell upon the hand that clasped his, then he saw Yori smiling shyly at him. Amyr felt tears prick his eyes, not because he had been gifted with his powers through his son's touch, but because he felt Yori's acceptance. He did not deserve such a sweet child.

Blinking back the tears, Amyr pushed himself off the disgusting pile to stand, his hand still holding his son's, not wanting to ever let go.

"You are not coming with us," warned Stryfe.

"Indeed," sniffed Jeshed disdainfully. "I will not have my triumphant appearance among your people marred by your stench. They might think it is me."

You are a vain bastard.

I think I learned that by observing you these last few days.

"There is a pond nearby where we bathe," Yori said, tugging Amyr in another direction. "I wanted to go there, but Taeron said we must hunt for the meal. Then all he did was look for bugs."

Amyr looked at Taeron. "Did you, perchance, find anything worth eating?"

Taeron reached down to take a pouch from his waist which he tossed to Amyr. "I thought you might like some."

After so many years of being forced to eat the roasted flesh of beasts, his mouth was watering just thinking of what was in the pouch. He nodded to Taeron. "You have my gratitude."

"That is being recorded as well," said Stryfe with a chuckle. "I wasn't sure that you knew how to be grateful, princeling." He winked at Yori. "I will tell your mother where you are so she doesn't worry. On the other hand, maybe she will worry even more, so don't be surprised if she shows up sooner than later."

Yori perceived his uncle's words as a threat, even more than Amyr who certainly did not want the woman he had been seducing not so very long ago to see him as he was now. If she saw him covered in dung, she would never forget it.

So with the laughter of his wife's brother in his ears, he ran along with Yori through the wood until they came close to the edge where there was a small pond that was ringed with large rocks. Yori released Amyr's hand and he ran towards the pond dragging his own plain tunic over his head and casting it aside before leaping into the pool. Amyr paused in removing his own clothing because he was anxious for the boy, and when his head popped up from the water, he was relieved.

"It is still warm!" Yori shouted to him. "Carrinda heats the rocks in the morning so the water will be steaming. Mama slept late this morning and she said there was no time to bathe."

A warm bath in a pool. How long had it been? Amyr had taken such luxuries for granted on Calabria. Now he reveled in the warm water when he stepped in. He discovered that the bottom of the pond was lined with stones so it was not entirely natural. He quickly washed the offensive filth from his body, then enjoyed relaxing in the pool, finding a rock beneath the water upon which he could sit, content in the sorcery warmed waters to watch his young son swim and splash about.

Yori grew tired of his sport and swam to where Amyr relaxed. "Do you learn from my uncle Taeron at night when the moons are high?"

He was a little ashamed to admit to his own incompetence. "He is the finest of my father's warriors."

"Taeron is a warlord," Yori announced. "I heard my uncle Stryfe tell my mother that he is called the hero of Varoonya."

A warlord was a fighter who distinguished himself in service to the emperor and as a consequence was given control of an army and a governorship. Taeron had earned his honors and yet Amyr resented him even more for it. Instead of indulging Yori in his hero worship he said, "Your grandfather, the father of your mother, is also a great warlord. In the early days of my father's reign, he fought at his side against the traitors of the empire."

"Tell me about my grandfathers," Yori begged as he settled next to Amyr on the rock.

This Amyr could do without feeling any bitterness, and giving him knowledge of his heritage was something Quynn could not do. She did not know her father, had not known him for even an entire crossing of the two suns. Amyr had known Quynn's father all his life and had many stories to tell Yori who listened eagerly. Soon enough he grew hungry and suggested that they have something to eat, and like any other male child, Yori was excited at the offer of food.

Yori returned to swimming and splashing about as Amyr hauled himself out of the pond to find the pouch Taeron had given him and which he had carefully set aside. Fishing about inside, he detected several large beetles as well as smaller ones and some worms and larvae. Amyr resisted grasping an entire handful to fill his mouth, so he selected a particularly plump bug to pop in his mouth and was savoring it when Quynn dashed into the clearing panting, cheeks bright from the speed in which she must have come to save her precious child from his own father.

She drew to a stop before Amyr, her eyes wide as she took in his naked form and when she looked at his face, her lips twisted in a grimace. "Charming." Her eyes had settled on his mouth and he realized that a few of the creature's legs were hanging over his lips.

Amyr was not embarrassed although she seemed to think he should be. He scooped the legs into his mouth with his tongue, and proceeded to smile with pleasure as he crunched on its exoskeleton to be rewarded with the rich, full flavor of its insides. After so many years without Calabrian fare, he imagined now that the taste was like nothing he had ever had. He would thank Taeron again later.

Wincing, she turned away from him. "Yori, out of the pool!" Quynn waited with a cloth to dry him

The boy swam to the edge and pulled himself up with the rocks, but he managed to dodge her waiting arms and scampered to Amyr. "Can I have one?"

"No!" Quynn was horrified, but Amyr reached into the pouch and gave him one of the smaller bugs Taeron had collected. "Don't put that in your mouth!" she cried out.

But Yori ignored her and opened his mouth, and when she tried to catch the bug before he tossed it in, he was quicker. By the look on his face he thought Yori was going to vomit. Since he had probably always eaten cooked flesh, Yori would not be used to the texture, but he would soon like it.

"Bite down quickly," he advised him. He was pleased when Yori obeyed him instantly and after a moment when he thought Yori would spit out the bug, the boy chewed it and then swallowed. Amyr took another one for himself although Quynn stared at him as if he were a monster.

"Do you remember," he said between chews, "when you first tried one?"

"Those are not sand slugs prepared by the imperial kitchens," she said with disgust.

"And these are tastier by far." Amyr pulled a larvae out of the bag and offered it to her.

She slapped it from his hand and he was about to scold her, but Yori snatched up the larvae, sucked it into his mouth, then snatched the towel from his mother and scurried away laughing.

Quynn watched him go then spun to look at Amyr who had popped a few more treats in his mouth to chew on, waiting for her inevitable tirade. "I told Yori there would be no bath today! I did not have time to bring him here."

Amyr shrugged. "I had time."

She rolled her eyes. "You are here because you fell into a pile of shit." Her gaze went contemptuously to the clothing that was scattered on the rocks. "I see that you did not clean your clothing. Are you expecting me to do it?"

"Are you offering?" Amyr could have laughed at the look on her face.

"Absolutely not! Even if they were Yori's clothing I would not touch them! They will need to be burned!" She turned to leave. "And I will thank you not to encourage Yori in learning your customs."

His brows drew together and he seized her arm before she could leave. Amyr could tolerate her rebuffs because he knew that in the end, like all other females, she would be his, although he would have to tread carefully with her. But he would not allow her to dictate his relationship with his son.

"Why is that? Are you planning to keep him from me?"

She tried to yank her arm from him, but he proved that he was stronger than her and he could see that she was angered by it. "I have raised Yori. He is mine."

"Yori has not been raised. He is a child. By my estimation and discussing the events with Stryfe, he is not even past the age of four crossings of the suns. He has yet to be raised and I intend to be there for him."

Quynn raised her chin defiantly, and he was reminded again of her mother. Lady Trynity had bewitched Lord Duo and when their child looked at him like this, he was under her spell. "When I return to Calabria I will convince my father that you are unsuitable," she told him boldly. "I doubt anyone would disbelieve me."

Amyr did not want to break her spirit, but he needed to remind her into what life she had chosen to enter when she gave him her vow. "You are talking about Calabria. The only person who would ever be deemed unsuitable to raise a male is its mother." Was she so naïve that she did not realize how tenuous her position was now? The only thing worse than a bastard was the female that had born it. "My father may have instituted many changes giving females more rights than they have ever had, but no one, not even your father, would keep a male child from his father."

She fell silent and when he released her, she rubbed her arm where he had held her even though he had not tried to hurt her with his firm grip. Quynn would not be able to ever claim that he brutalized her. If anyone could make that claim, he could, considering all the items she had thrown at him. After she had fled him after giving him her oath to marry him, there was not a man or woman on Calabria who would take her side.

"Why do you persist?" he demanded, suddenly frustrated by her stubborn nature. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place, but now it was a hindrance to their future together.

Her shoulders slumped. He was reaching out to take her in his arms, but the loud sound of cracking twigs warned him that someone was approaching. Amyr was not surprised to see Taeron enter the clearing carrying both a cloth for him to dry off and a change of clothing. Quynn pushed past him and hurried away, but not before Amyr saw the tears in her eyes. He wished he did not need to be so harsh with her because now he acutely felt her pain and humiliation. Amyr wondered how Shamara had dealt with these powers for so many years without being driven mad.

"I thought you might like something to wear," remarked Taeron. "I saw Yori coming back. He seemed happy."

Amyr took the clothing from him. "You are not going to presume to tell me how to be a father, are you?"

To his surprise, Taeron chuckled. "No. Nothing frightens me more than being responsible for a child."

Amyr raised his brows. "I had thought that being responsible for a female frightened you."

"That comes in very close after," admitted Taeron. "I have never given any thought to doing either. I guess I always thought..."

Taeron did not need to finish for Amyr to know what he was thinking. He thought he would always be at his side. "You will never know how I truly felt when I learned of your death, and I hope that you never suffer that kind of pain. Part of me, the biggest part of me was gone."

Amyr felt sick to his stomach because he could sense Taeron's pain now emanating from him in waves that washed over him, nearly drowning him as Taeron remembered what happened on Teralon. He was reliving now the moment he had seen the body of the man that had taken his sword, burned beyond recognition but grasping the sword of the crown prince. Horrified by the hideously disfigured body believing it to be Amyr, Taeron had pried the sword from the hands of the charred corpse so that he could return it to Calabria. He had to break the stiff fingers grasping it and turned away to vomit, believing that he had desecrated the body of the man who had been his whole life.

"I am not as oblivious as you think," Taeron was saying, although he was now oblivious to what Amyr was feeling. "I know that you have grown to resent me, but I have ever sought the approval of others, of my father, of your father and your approval. I don't know how else to live."

Taeron was humiliated by his confession, and he was looking for Amyr's forgiveness. Who was he to absolve Taeron when he had committed far more sins against him? Amyr was ashamed to wonder if he would have felt so deeply grieved to be the one to find Taeron's body that day. At least Amyr had not sunk so low that he would use his feelings against Taeron, something he was quite sure that his formerly innocuous brother Staefyn had done. If he had engineered everything that happened, if he was the heinous man they feared, he had surely used Taeron's insecurities against him.

Finally he said, "You are not to blame for my selfishness," he said. Taeron seemed to be relieved. "But I don't know how to feel about losing you as my imperial guard when you have spent your entire life training for it."

"About that..."

Taeron did not have a chance to finish what he was going to say because Jeshed stepped from behind a tree. "Did you tell him?"

Amyr raised a brow. "Tell me what?"

"The paladin is going to train me to be your imperial guard."

Amyr looked at Taeron with a frown.

Taeron shrugged. "Can you refuse a dragon?"

Amyr chuckled. "I suppose not, that is if he is ever able to return to dragon form. Can he fight?"

"I am a fast learner," interrupted Jeshed eagerly.

"At this point I think Stryfe can best him with his pen," admitted Taeron.

Amyr grunted. "Stryfe can best anybody with his pen. I shudder to think what he is writing about me."

"I shudder to think what he is writing about me." Taeron offered Amyr another of his tunics. "One of the castle women altered it for you. You realize that my mother is going to gut you when she discovers you took my clothing."

Amyr slipped the tunic over his head and pulled on the loose pants he tossed to him. He noticed that Jeshed was now fully dressed, also wearing Taeron's clothing but it fit him better without alterations. "Your mother is the most vicious female on Calabria. I heard that she had been directed by my grandfather's concubine, that whore Xuxa, to seduce my father when he was barely a man." Amyr chuckled as he considered the bond between his parents. "She was destined to fail."

"The gods had their plan for her," Taeron said. Taeron was a good son who had never rejected his mother despite her dubious past.

"I would like to know what plan the gods have for me," grumbled Amyr.

They will reveal it, all in good time. Jeshed's words in his mind did not relieve Amyr at all.