Page 67
Story: The Silent Prince
Again, and a third time. The pain made the Mer prince convulse.
With his arms wrapped around the Boravian lord and his mind full of blood and death, Kaerius acted on instinct more than thought.
He buried his teeth in Ralph’s throat as he shoved the larger man bodily up and over the stone wall. The Boravian cried out in pain and clutched desperately at Kaerius, wrenching the prince’s arms nearly out of their sockets and pulling him up the wall. With his teeth in Ralph’s throat, Kaerius did not notice or care when his feet left the ground.
They fell together, down, down, down to the foam-flecked waves five hundred feet below. Ralph screamed, high and terrified, and thrashed wildly with the knife until their tumbling bodies bounced off the sheer cliff and he lost his grip.
With his ears full of the wind and Ralph’s screams, Kaerius could not hear the princess’s scream, the shouting of servants, or the cry of horror from Brighton.
A fall from this height into water was not much softer than falling onto stone, and the impact knocked both Ralph and Kaerius senseless. Their tangle of arms and weapons separated slowly as they sank beneath the waves, and the blood spread in the water in a cloud.
“Well, that didn’t go as you expected, did it?”
The voice filtered through the haze of pain that fogged Kaerius’s mind, like the memory of something he had once known.
He couldn’t answer. His human lungs were full of water, blood, and bits of bone from the shattering force of the impact. His fingers twitched, but his body was dying, and his mind was far too full of pain and confusion to convey anything coherent. He would not be able to decipher the words much longer.
“Did you learn anything, Prince of the Mer?”
A deep, rich laugh echoed through the water, older than whale song and strangely comforting beneath the pain that crushed Kaerius’s chest.
A tentacle wrapped around him, and his broken bones ground against each other as the kraken tugged him through the water. Kaerius would have screamed, if he had breath or strength or voice.
Even the awareness of pain faded, and he didn’t hear the kraken’s next words.
“She will be here in a moment, little prince, and we shall see if your love is reciprocated.”
Chapter 22
The princess ran all the way down the long, winding road to the bottom of the cliff. Sobs caught in her throat, and she gasped for breath, brushing tears from her eyes as she ran.
Brighton followed as quickly as he could. At last one of the young soldiers matched his steps and put a supporting arm around him, so the guard was able to lengthen his strides without falling on his face. His head pounded and the world spun around him, but he focused on the princess’s pale figure ahead of him and pushed on through the dizziness and pain.
He caught up with her on the narrow path from the road down to the beach.
“Wait,” he gasped. “Wait, Marin!”
She turned to him only for a moment. “Don’t fall!” Then she hurried on.
He swallowed nausea and hurried after her. “Wait,” he said again.
At the water’s edge, she fought with the rope tying up the little skiff. “Help me!” she gasped. Her fingers were so small and tender, and the rope was rough and tied too tightly for her.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her head against his chest. She was trembling, breathing far too quickly, and he braced his feet wider, because he felt himself swaying.
“Stop,” he said. “Marin, you can’t… don’t go out there. I’ve seen what a fall like that does to a man’s body. Please don’t put that in your mind.”
“What if… but what if he’s alive?” she sobbed. “What if he needs help? I need to…”
Brighton closed his eyes and put his cheek on the top of her hair. It was easier to stay upright if he didn’t see the world spinning and dancing around him.
“He’s not alive, Marin,” he whispered. “But he loved you.”
She took a tremulous breath. “Then I should… I should see the cost of his love. We should see his body and bury it with honor, if we can find him.”
Brighton didn’t have the energy to argue against this, and his heart twisted at the thought of leaving the broken body of his friend to sink beneath the waves without a shred of honor or affection.
So with no more protest, he knelt at the side of the skiff and began to untie the knots with trembling fingers. The young soldier worked at the other rope.
Table of Contents
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- Page 67 (Reading here)
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