Page 7 of The Lionheart’s Bond (Bonds of Dusk and Dawn #1)

JUDEL

‘H ow far have the men searched?’ Nahel’s voice was stiff with concern.

‘All the way to the border,’ Captain Helge said. ‘They followed their tracks as far as they could, but they abruptly ended.’

‘Could they have been turned around? Or taken an alternative route through the forest?’ Nel calmly leant over the table, inspecting the map spread on it.

‘Where is Neisha?’ Brin whispered, leaning towards Judel.

Their older brother’s absence was palpable, the room lighter. When Neisha was present, his girth cast a dark, powerful shadow over the room, an air of foreboding around him.

‘Mausoleum?’ Judel ventured.

‘Divine Spirits, what is so interesting there that he feels the need to go so often?’

Nahel’s glare froze Judel’s next words in his throat.

‘Your Highness, when I say the tracks disappeared,’ Helge insisted, ‘I mean they vanished entirely. They were there, and then they were not. As if carriages and horses had been plucked off the ground.’

‘It is the work of magic, then,’ Neisha said, walking through the door. ‘Kalye must be behind this.’

‘We sent Lord Joceus to undo their work.’ Nel nodded, scratching his head. ‘We handled it discreetly, even the soldiers chosen to accompany Lord Joceus didn’t know where they were going or the purpose of their mission.’

‘Your point, brother.’ Nahel’s gaze bore into Nel.

‘My point, my queen,’ Nel retorted, pushing away from the table, ‘is that no one could have known, Kalye or not. It’s not market gossip. They’re spying on us. Are long distance listening spells a thing?’

Silence hung over the room. Magic was a subject somewhat taboo in Ilystra. The Divine Lords did not tolerate magic, it was known. Every one of the Six Divine Scrolls made that clear. All force comes from the Divine Lords and can only be manipulated by the Divine Lords. It was considered a grave sin to ignore this tenet of their faith, yet another reason why so many had turned their backs on them. The curse, while not their fault, had tainted them with the use of powers that were forbidden to humans, even if they had no choice in the matter.

‘I talked to our… guest,’ Nahel revealed with a wave of her hand.

Judel’s attention focused more intensely on his sister’s words.

It drifted often. He rarely ever participated in these conversations. His opinion was not needed, since others had more to contribute. Neisha had the authority of being the Crown Prince, and Nel, while considerably younger, had the sharpest intellect and was able to approach situations with cold calculation. Brin, while refusing to help, was useful like it or not, since he could fly long distances and watch from the skies. Hina had that detailed recall of anything he saw or read, and a thirst for knowledge, as well as an affinity for healing practices. Meanwhile, Judel could swing a sword. He was the best with most weapons, and physically the strongest, but that was only beneficial in battle, and Ilystra hadn’t been at war since before he was born.

No one cared to hear what he had to say otherwise. He had no role in these conversations, and he would much rather be training, but the queen would not allow it. His mind invariably wandered, bored, and it had done so as Nahel shifted through reports of monsters in Sentinel Pass and merchants attacked on the road. It had travelled all the way out of the door and up the stairs, into his old room, where the young man rested, unconscious.

The wide bed that seemed to swallow his fragile frame, too light to make a dent in the mattress. Yet, once clean, his features radiated a delicate beauty. Not merely handsome, but perhaps pretty. His appearance had improved so much after simply being wiped down that Judel had barely recognized him. The fine line of his jaw, the full lips, it had occupied his thoughts, distracting him from his usual concerns. His brother would no doubt say it was normal to be distracted by a pretty face, but Judel wasn’t used to it, not to mention prettiness had nothing to do with it.

Maybe it was because, unlike his brothers, and many Ilish young men, Judel only had had one person in his mind since he was very young.

Fabina and he had been together since childhood. The notion of men had never appealed to him the way women did. And when he said women, he meant the one woman. His love for her had filled his heart and body, leaving no room for anything else. She had fulfilled all his needs in such a way that his eyes had never once wandered. He had considered himself lucky. Most went through many partners before they found their forever. Some never did, so for him to find it so early in life had made up for the dismissals from his family when it came to his intellect and abilities beyond the martial field. He couldn’t have it all, he would reason at the time. Until it all unravelled, of course.

But the end of their relationship hadn’t changed his feelings. He understood her decision and harboured no resentment towards her, but it didn’t hurt any less for it. She still occupied his heart. The passing years had done nothing to fade her images in his mind and yet, his thoughts turned now to the delicate features of another—a man at that. Even more surprising, the feeling wasn’t unwelcome.

Lost in those musings, Judel had only registered the discussion around him as a distant mumble, too preoccupied with how the young man would react when they could officially meet, which was why his mention had snapped Judel out of his reverie.

‘He denies being Kaletian, even if that’s where we found him. He claims being from Endalor and having been taken from his family by a Lord Torell, Count of Stonehollow, forced into service for ten years.’

‘The men that chased him certainly treated him like an escaped prisoner,’ Judel offered, hoping it would help his case.

‘I’ve never heard about Lord Torell until today,’ Neisha said.

None of them seemed familiar with this character either, but Kaletian nobility didn’t interact with them in any capacity, so it was to be expected.

‘If what he says is true, it’s better that way,’ Nel chuckled after hearing Nahel’s report of their conversation.

‘Just because Isidore was treated poorly as a servant doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a hidden purpose. He could still have been coerced into doing their bidding.’ Nahel leant back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest.

‘We can’t disregard how he was wounded protecting our brother. We must at least help him recover,’ Neisha insisted. Relief washed over Judel. Seeing him restored to health was the least they could do.

Isidore was wounded because of him, and not only because he decided to stupidly protect him. Now that time had passed and he had had time to think, he admitted his reactions had been dulled by the recent return of his human conscience. Slow, he hadn’t recognized the threat those men posed until the young man was falling to the floor. The lion still had some hold on him, the beast still in conflict with his returning human mind. It was too late when his humanity regained control of his body and by then—and even later, when he was human again—his focus had been on survival and finding refuge. Only once he was under the comforting roof of his own home, bathed and dressed in his own clothes, was he able to analyse the situation and recognize his role in the way the events had unfolded. Judel vowed to himself to keep Isidore safe until he was fully recovered and gained some strength too. Lifting him had been like lifting a corpse.

‘That doesn’t mean we can let our guard down around him. It is vital that nothing important is discussed or shared in his presence,’ Neisha instructed, after considering the situation. ‘Someone should stay with him at all times, when possible.’

‘Ponar and Arte should be feeding him right now.’ Judel had sent them before he stepped into the hall, knowing well Nahel would send them away. He envied them. Just like him, they had nothing to bring to these conversations, but Ponar would keep whispering jokes to Arte and the snickering irritated Nahel, who would then ask them to leave. The mood dropped considerably once they left, Neisha’s energy plunging the room into gloom.

‘Divine Lords, you could really have picked someone else. Merudel and Naran would have been more suited.’ Nel ran an exasperated hand through his hair. Judel’s jaw tensed. ‘Those two can barely keep their mouth shut. Who knows what they might blurt out?’

‘Go and take over from them, make sure they didn’t reveal all of our secrets,’ Neisha said, his voice heavy with resigned condescension.

‘Sure,’ Judel replied, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice.

He was acutely aware of his own weaknesses, but his siblings insisted on reminding him, lest he forgot. ‘You’re not wise, are you?’ ‘The brain is also a muscle, brother, it needs training.’ ‘Try to think before you act.’

Well, they could all fall to the Pit, for all he cared.

No doubt they blamed him for Isidore’s injuries and the inconvenience it was to them, the cause of another burden on their family.

All in all, not an auspicious start to his evening, he told himself.

The boys were, as expected, engaged in conversation. Surprisingly, they were only listening, as Isidore recounted the events that had led him there. He regretted having to end their chat. His brothers missed out on a lot of attention as the rest of them dealt with the long list of problems that plagued the kingdom, but he had orders from the queen.

Moments later, his mind still raced as he lifted the spoon to the man’s lips. Isidore’s version of events did not align with what he had witnessed. The young man had most definitely shielded him from harm by jumping in the way of that bolt. Why the deception? What was Isidore hiding?

His pulse quickened as he considered his sister’s suspicions. Was it even possible to set up such a trap?

It was too far-fetched to be true. The mastermind of such a plan would need to be in possession of too many details. The curse. The animals they turned into. They’d need to be able to distinguish them from other animals. His lion was unnaturally large, but they would need to know that.

Even if they were aware of all that, why set such a trap in Kalye, then? How could they predict he was going to be there?

Too many variables for such a plan to succeed. Any number of things could go wrong.

But no matter how much he reasoned it, he couldn’t help thinking he was probably missing something, a factor Nel would likely be able to explain, and so his siblings’ words still echoed in his mind.

‘I came to thank you,’ Judel started after an awkward silence, ‘but it seems it was not necessary.’

‘Thank me?’ Isidore said, his eyes widening.

Judel paused. He hadn’t seen his eyes in such detail before. Only in brief moments, before the boy had become too weak to keep them open.

Now, with those eyes fixed on him from his own bed, he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful their round shape was, like a doe’s eyes, but vividly green. The light from the fire played in their depths, turning them into glimmering jewels.

‘You saved that mountain lion,’ Judel explained, once he was able to pull his attention away from the spell of Isidore’s glance. ‘We take the care for animals extremely seriously in Ilystra.’

The boy opened his mouth to receive a new spoonful of food.

‘I didn’t mean to save it,’ he confessed, after swallowing.

‘So I heard. I guess you weren’t as brave as I thought.’ Judel lifted the spoon to his mouth once more, but the boy didn’t open it this time. Isidore’s eyes dropped, cheeks flushed, brow furrowed.

‘I’m glad it’s safe, though,’ he added.

Judel frowned.

Isidore’s eyes flashed as he asked, ‘Why do you care so much about it?’

‘Because I do. There is a hunting ban on the Queen’s lands.’

‘Really?’ The boy’s eyebrows shot up.

Judel grunted, half an affirmative gesture, half an expression of annoyance. Why would he lie?

‘People in high positions, like you,’ Isidore continued tentatively, ‘often neglect or even abuse those they consider below them, even when they’re human. Animals fare even worse. They’re only beasts without feelings or intelligence after all.’

The words struck Judel like a slap. Wasn’t that what they thought about him? All brawn, no brains or feelings, as if his physical strength protected his emotions too. Only Fabina had ever treated him with respect and consideration. She’d been sweet to him, comforting, unwavering like a rock. But of course, once he told her about the curse, she couldn’t bear it. The love he once thought unshakable was not enough for her to stay by his side.

He couldn’t blame her. Who would want a husband who became a thoughtless beast for most of the day, only human at night? He wasn’t selfless enough to break up their engagement of his own will, but when she broke up with him, he didn’t fight to keep her. To let her go was the only mercy he could show her.

‘That’s what you think,’ he snapped, unable to keep the anger off his voice.

‘Isn’t that what everybody thinks?’ Isidore shrugged, one-shouldered, not looking at him.

Their eyes locked. Isidore’s gaze felt questioning, as if he was searching Judel’s expression. He tilted his head, observing Isidore. Was he scrutinizing him for agreement or the opposite? His reply sounded unnatural, as if he had said that because he thought it was expected of him to think that way. Or maybe it’s what Judel wanted to believe.

He shook his head, dipping the spoon in the cooling porridge. Whatever excuse the boy gave didn’t matter. It was no accidental heroism. The beast might have still held part of him in its clutches, but it hadn’t made him blind. He knew bravery when he saw it, and this boy, this twenty-something red-head had put his life between that arrowhead and the lion.

When Judel lifted his eyes again, he encountered the unexpected. Isidore was smiling. The prince’s breath hitched, hot in his chest.

‘What?’ he grumbled.

‘Your sister does that.’ He tilted his head, imitating them. ‘Just like you just did.’

‘Who says I’m the queen’s brother?’ he blurted, trying to hide the way the man’s smile had made his heart skip a beat.

‘Who says I meant the queen?’ The boy smiled again.

Judel averted his gaze, feeling heat on his cheeks.

‘She told me your name; your brothers greeted you.’

That’s right. He hadn’t even introduced himself.

‘I’m Prince Judel,’ he said, at last, lifting his chin high. He wasn’t going to behave like a teenager just because of a boy with pretty eyes.

‘Isidore,’ the boy replied, his voice soft. ‘Thank you for saving my life, Your Highness.’

Isidore’s cheeks glowed in soft pinks. Judel’s heart thudded in his chest.

Fuck.

‘Keep eating.’ Judel grumbled, swallowing hard.

Isidore chuckled, nodding, his laugh turning into a soft smile. Unable to articulate words any longer, Judel finished to feed him in silence, avoiding the boy’s gaze until the bowl was empty. Only when he offered him water did Judel steal a glance.

He frowned, finding the glimmer of those eyes gone, Isidore’s face was now pale, in stark contrast with the flush that still lingered on his cheeks.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ Judel stood up, concerned.

Isidore’s gaze wandered, unable to focus on any one point. In the time he had avoided looking at him, the young man’s apparent energy had vanished, leaving him weaker than before.

His forehead was burning hot when Judel pressed his hand to it, the skin damp with sweat. He searched the boy’s eyes once more and almost succumbed to the softness of his look.

‘I’ll get my brother. You have a fever.’

Isidore didn’t respond. His eyes closed, passed out, asleep or too weak to keep them open, Judel couldn’t tell.

‘Hina,’ he called outside. ‘Hina!’

He retraced his steps to the queen’s hall, but found it empty, the fire turning to embers. Rushing through the corridors, he went to the only other place he imagined Hina to be, their mother’s library.

Hina jumped in his chair when Judel burst in, the book that had been resting open on his lap falling to the floor.

‘Divine Spirits, brother, what?’ Hina lifted his eyes to him, visibly annoyed. His long hair was coming loose from his hair tie and his eyes were heavy with sleep.

‘Isidore,’ Judel blurted out. ‘He has a fever.’

Hina’s frown deepened—never a good sign. His younger brother retrieved his bag before following Judel back to his old room, asking pointed questions about every detail, from what had they been doing, in which position was Isidore when he left him and the exact shade of pink his face was.

Isidore lay still, propped up by pillows.

‘Will he recover?’ Judel felt stiff as Hina began his examination.

‘Let me work.’

Judel nodded, taking a step back. And then again, when Hina moved to the other side of the bed. Then moved again as Hina went to the fire. Frustrated, Judel turned on his heels and left the room. He would only be in the way if he stayed.

He was wasting his time. There was only one thing he was good at, and it didn’t involve bags full of infusions and herbs, or books or maps. Weapons: swords, staffs, daggers. He wasn’t bad with a bow and arrow either. That’s where he belonged. Isidore was in better hands with Hina by his side. Even Nahel would agree.

The dim, empty armoury welcomed him, the smell of steel, oil and wax made it feel like home.

He should have gone to bed, but he found himself fuelled by an unexpected amount of energy. He peeled off his tunic, and chose a sword, ready to run drills. Lack of sleep would no doubt haunt him come morning, but he was too anxious. His frustration drove him into the first steps of his well-rehearsed sword style. Frustration at his inability to support his sister. Frustration at the way his siblings treated him. Frustration at the guilt he felt for Isidore’s wounds.

Isidore.

The notion that this slight young man might be a spy seemed ludicrous. He couldn’t even picture it.

His breath coming fast now, he slashed at the air, precise steps moving him around the room. Uncertainty made him restless. At least he would be too tired after his training to toss and turn in bed, these same thoughts stealing his sleep.

‘Practicing again, brother?’ Nahel’s voice interrupted his exercise, forcing him to stop. She slipped out of her tunic, clad in her shirt and leather trousers.

‘It’s what I’m best at, isn’t it?’ Judel assumed his stance, swinging once more at his invisible enemy.

‘You’re good at many things,’ she said.

Judel scoffed. She’d say that.

‘Are you here to chat or to practice?’ He stopped his drills, resting the point of his sword on the floor.

‘Practice, of course.’ She grinned.

He studied her face, the scar twisting with the gesture and tried not to wince. Nahel insisted she didn’t remember how it happened, but he suspected it wasn’t true. Both Neisha and he feared she lied to spare them.

She was strong, the strongest amongst them, both in spirit and determination. She had to be, only girl of twelve children, she had overcome the impossible, defied the odds and stepped up to be the leader and guardian of this kingdom, and while she had done so out of necessity and duty, she did it holding her head high, never wavering. Admirable, considering everything she went through.

Only twenty-three, Nahel was too young when the curse changed their lives, one of the reasons why they didn’t consider her for the crown when it became clear Neisha couldn’t fulfil the role he had been raised for.

Her recovery from her injuries had been slow and painful, too.

And as much as it pained him to admit it, her gender posed an additional challenge. No one doubted her abilities and the potential to grow into the role, but the vassals wouldn’t see it that way and indeed, when it came to finding an heir, they all pointed elsewhere, but never at her. Or at themselves.

Desperate for a male relative to step up, they searched far and wide. Even their cousins, lords in their own right, refused. Darkness had conquered the castle, powers that they didn’t understand, powers that were too close to the evils the old scriptures had warned them against, even if those part of the Divine Lords commandments had long been disregarded. They weren’t willing to risk meeting the same fate. As time passed and the rejections piled up, Nahel became their only hope.

They had no concerns, however, when it came to their relationships outside their borders. Cardeva had a long history of female Grand Chiefs, and several of their tribes had female Chiefs at any given time. They had links to their people, too. Their Weapons Master was Cardevan, as had been their father’s.

But Kalye, with whom they shared a long border, and a kingdom much larger than Cardeva, presented a different challenge. Kalye had no interest in them as it was, regardless of the gender of their regent. They wouldn’t have opened diplomatic channels with Ilystra regardless, despite their relationship being neutral for generations.

Indeed, their conflicts with Kalye had been dormant for centuries. The stories from other lands showed that relations between kingdoms could be mended, over the years, and yet it was not so for Ilystra and their neighbour. That Ilish history had once been tainted with religious fanatism, leading to actions against Kalye, was a fact no one denied, and a cause of embarrassment for their kingdom. It had also been causing conflict within their own borders back then, so much so that his great-grand-father had led an army againstIlystead, taking the throne for himself, and ending the tyranny and religious extremism of the previous king, his family banished to Bridge Island, out of Ilish lands.

Peace re-established, his great-grand-father and grand-father had made numerous attempts at diplomacy, but Kalye had routinely rejected their advances, though no new conflicts had arisen since.

Until shortly after the curse. Nothing direct, no attacks as such. Just the overnight treason of two Ilish lords. Valecrest and Endalor became part of Kalye, while the Ilish crown was too distracted trying to keep their own house from falling apart.

Judel had begged they let him confront Calder and Emmett. A campaign to retake Valecrest without a frontal attack, by capturing Lord Emmett, force his hand to bring his lands back under Ilish rule. But his idea, like many others, had been shut down. The curse alone made the mission too dangerous, no matter how skilled Judel was on the battlefield.

‘I can get it done in a single night,’ Judel had insisted.

‘And what if you fail?’ Nahel had insisted. ‘What happens if they capture you during the day.’

‘How would they even know?’ he had asked, bewildered.

‘Don’t be naive, brother,’ Nel had intervened. ‘Do you think it’s coincidence that this curse fell upon us just as Kalye spread their tentacles through our borders? That Nahel is queen is public knowledge. They can put two and two together. At the very least, they know we’ve been incapacitated in some way.’

‘Right, of course,’ Judel had replied, lacking the energy to reiterate his willingness to participate further in the conversation.

Nahel now stood before him, sword in hand. His sister, not the queen.

She was always ready. She probably had never had a choice. Just like becoming queen, the rest had been forced upon her by necessity. Middle sister to eleven boys, she had learnt to fight for entertainment, simply because most of them were not always interested or willing to play the games she was interested in.

‘I’ll save myself from the dragon,’ she said one day, and picked up a practice sword.

That they were bigger than her didn’t scare her. That the weapons master barely spared her a glance at first didn’t discourage her. As it turned out, not only did she enjoy it, but soon she excelled at it. At first, Judel had been the one to train her, but soon she earned the praise and attention of their Cardevan master. Small, yet agile. Just like right now, as she slid under his defences and landed a blow to his side.

‘Damn,’ Judel grunted.

‘You taught me well.’ She grinned.

‘I shouldn’t have taught you so well.’

‘Stop moaning, old man, and get ready.’ She laughed, taking a stance. ‘Or are you going to let a girl beat you?’

‘Maybe not a girl,’ Judel replied, poised for the next assault, ‘but I might let the Queen of Ilystra give me a beating.’

Two hours of sparring and a bath later, he went back to his room—the new one, with the door that opened to the outside, — and lied down on his cot. Exhausted, he closed his eyes, sleep already wrapping its long, warm arms around him. As he surrendered into its embrace, one image remained etched in his mind. Big, round, green eyes, looking at him from under long lashes.