Marked by Honor - 8

Chapter 8

Halua’s eyes were wide. He stared at Banthus in awe. “You were attacked by the Oerka?!”

“The caravan had been attacked,” the man corrected, “but yes, by association I was attacked.”

“But isn’t the Oerka over three stories tall? How did you survive?”

Banthus shook his head, a quirk at the edge of his lips. He looked amused by Halua’s reaction, so innocent and disbelieving. The lack of knowledge of the outside world was surprisingly refreshing. It was almost like speaking with a child who didn’t know any better.

“The rumors are exaggerated. I am surprised you have even heard of the Oerka.”

Halua gave him a look. “I may be sheltered but I am not completely uneducated. I have heard things, if not read them.” Though his words seemed to reproach Banthus for his comment, his tone said he wasn’t all that bothered.

During the time that Banthus told his story about the desert of Alnuut, Halua had gotten very comfortable with speaking with him. And it seemed that Banthus also grew more comfortable with him. His posture relaxed, the look in his eye softened, and the way he spoke suggested that he enjoyed telling his story to Halua.

Whether or not that was because Banthus enjoyed that particular journey he had, or because Halua was so animated in his responses, was undecidable. Regardless, the two warmed to each other’s company beneath that temple tree.

“My apologies. But what you have heard and what is reality are likely two different things, especially concerning the Oerka. It is not three stories tall. Men, who have been frightened by its appearance and ferocity, have often made it out bigger than it truly is for the sake of padding their egos. They are oft like children, boasting to each other.”

“Yet you speak the truth,” Halua said, half asking, half confirming.

Banthus nodded. “I have little interest in telling a fanciful lie simply to make myself more than I am. However,” he added, catching Halua’s gaze, “on that same note, I am fully capable of all that I say I am.”

He laughed. Despite how serious he knew Banthus to be, just hearing such words tickled him. “I have no doubt about that, sir,” he said with an amused tip to his mouth. “I have seen your skill firsthand, after all. I admire you for it, truly I do.”

“That is the result of years of practice. Without practice, I would not be where I am now. It is thanks to my employers that I have had plenty of opportunity to hone my skills.”

“What a life it must be, to be a mercenary as you are. You did say you were a mercenary, right?”

The man paused. “That would be one definition to what I do, yes, though others might call it differently.”

Halua flapped a hand. “I think it’s a worthy enough title. You travel far and you meet many obstacles along the way. You fight, you protect, you kill whenever necessary. You are a warrior of exponential skill, and I wager there are many who would offer you plentiful riches and prizes if only you worked for them solely.”

“Yes, that is correct. But I am not obligated to one person. I am my own.”

Halua sighed wistfully. “I envy you. I will never know such a life, such freedom.”

Banthus gave him a quiet look, contemplative. “Traveling is not all that it seems. As I told you of the Alnuut, it can be dangerous. Bandits, slave traders, beastly creatures... while you do have the freedom to go where you please, there is much more to it than simply wandering about.” He shook his head. “The world is tough and often ruthless. Having a home and people to love you and shelter you is something you would have to be without on a constant basis.”

“I know. I know... But from my current perspective, it seems so much better.” Halua held out his hands, shifting so that he better faced the man. “Look at these hands. Soft. Delicate.” He lightly took Banthus’ hand and brushed his fingers over the man’s palm and fingertips. “These are scars and calluses from effort, courage, luck and skill. These are the hands of someone who has done many things in his life. In comparison, mine seem like that of a newborn child. I have done little. I will never be able to do more, and I am not in a position to change that.”

Banthus frowned slightly as he looked down at their hands. Halua watched as the man’s gaze took in the contrast of their skin, not simply the color but the state of roughness. Halua slowly curled his fingers around Banthus’ palm, drawing the man’s gaze up to his face.

“I have no right to complain, but I will be honest with you. I am not my own person. The choices I make are for someone else’s sake. It is not truly my own decision to be what I am or do the things I do. This path I walk has already been paved for me. That is why I value your stories so much. The life you lead... what I wouldn’t give to share in your world...”

Halua had been so passionate with his speech, it was belatedly that he realized how his words might have sounded. Embarrassed that he might be misinterpreted, he quickly released Banthus’ hand and drew back.

Banthus, however, did not let him hide. His hand caught Halua’s before it could fully retreat and held it gently. Halua looked at him in surprise, not sure what to do.

The man slowly applied pressure, holding his hand firmly while still keeping a gentle touch. “If I may be bold, if it were not for your secluded and sheltered life, we would not have crossed paths...” He trailed off with a slight frown as if he just realized he didn’t know Halua’s name.

Halua blinked in turn, also realizing that he had never offered his own name to the man. “It is Halua,” he said, and wore a sheepish smile.

“Halua...”

The way his name rolled off Banthus’ tongue made heat rise to his cheeks. Halua felt a little flustered. What was it about this man’s voice and the way he spoke that was so enchanting? The littlest of things just made him feel so weird. Was it simply because Banthus was someone Halua admired? Or something else entirely?

Those dark eyes met his own and a small pulse of pressure was delivered to his hand. “I will not lie, you are very attractive. Especially in these clothes you now wear.”

His eyes strayed down the curve of Halua’s neck to the slope of his shoulder. The dress exposed the top of his shoulder, tempting any who saw to put their lips to his skin yet forbidding them from assuming more when the robe hid away the rest of the illusion.

“You are the first to say that,” Halua said quietly, though this wasn’t entirely true. His father had attested to his feminine beauty, and his mother too, and Prina also found him pretty. But Banthus was the first man, the first stranger, to say this.

“I will likely not be the last either,” the man said.

Halua gave a wry smile at that. “Perhaps not.”

“I do not doubt it. If you ever wed, your husband will not be able to deny your beauty.”

At the mention of husband, Halua’s thoughts circled back to his betrothed. A small frown formed on his lips. “I do not think beauty is enough. He will no doubt find me useless and a bother.” When he saw Banthus simply staring at him, he sighed and clarified. “I am already promised to a man who does not favor women.”

“Why are you engaged to a man who does not at least value your existence?”

“It was arranged. Do not pity me, I have accepted the path that has been chosen for me. I merely wish he were more accepting of me. He does not have to love me, but...” He shook his head. He shouldn’t be telling Banthus this, but he couldn’t help his frustration about the matter. It was such an honor, a privilege, to be recognized as his father’s child, but the price had been steep.

Banthus studied him quietly, saying nothing. The way he looked at Halua didn’t imply that he pitied the other, but there was a flicker of emotion that almost said he would rather Halua be in a different place. Halua was tempted to ask what that look meant.

Instead, he glanced up at the sky and saw the late hour. “I should return. There is still much to do before the day has ended.”

Banthus nodded and stood. “Let me escort you back.”

Halua let the man take lead, their hands joined as before. Banthus guided him up to the porch., but before he let go of Halua’s hand, he said, “I believe an honesty of character will benefit you the most. Speak your mind with him as you have done me.”

Halua blinked at him. He wasn’t sure what to say in return. Banthus didn’t seem to be hoping for a reply; he wished Halua a fair night then took his leave. Halua watched him go with a soft sigh before making his way inside.

Mern welcomed him upon his return and bid he join them for tea and something to eat. He discretely asked how his talk with Reshar went, to which Halua replied, “I will meet with him again later and we will discuss the details of our engagement.”

The old man found this sufficient enough of an answer and nodded. They continued to enjoy the tea and food, until at last the time came for Halua to set off again. The guard walked with Halua to the western side of the temple. Halua left him at the door when one of Reshar’s men came to answer as before.

He followed the militant man to where the prince was waiting for him and cleared his throat politely to catch Reshar’s attention as he busied himself with several papers in his hands.

Reshar looked up at him, and glanced at his guard with a nod. They were left alone. Reshar gestured to an empty seat. “Care to join me?”

Halua slipped into the chair and folded his hands. He watched as Reshar scanned over the script on each parchment before setting them into piles. He had thought to interrupt and ask what it was he was doing, but he waited until the man was done and looked at him.

“May I ask what you were reading?”

“Reports. These are documents sent from the troops. Even though I am not on the field with my men, I receive updates periodically. I will continue to receive and review all news from them when I assume my father’s position.”

The way he spoke made it clear that he highly valued these pieces of parchment.

“Can I know of them?”

Reshar looked at Halua in surprise. “You want to read the reports?”

“Yes, if I may. I am not trained in the sword and know little about a soldier’s tactics, but as your future wife, wouldn’t it be useful if I understood your work?”

The man regarded him. “I see the logic behind your words. But I question your ability to truly comprehend what is written.”

A prick of ire struck Halua, but instead of lashing out harshly, he used it as a means to tip the scales. “Surely you, as a notorious militant man, would find it easy to teach me all that I need to know. I will learn quickly under your tutelage.”

Reshar cocked a brow at him. “Are you trying to flatter me into complying?”

Halua smiled at him. “Flattery would imply suspicious motives on my part. I am simply stating what I think is true.”

There was a quirk at the edge of Reshar’s lips. “You have a wicked tongue on you, woman.”

“Perhaps you should learn to get used to it?” He was daring to play with Reshar as he played with Banthus. The man had suggested he be true to his self, and seeing no other way to gain Reshar’s favor, Halua intended to follow his advice.

Reshar stared at him as if he was the strangest creature he had ever encountered. Halua simply met his gaze evenly. Part of him was afraid that following Banthus’ advice would be a mistake, but another part of him was hopeful for its success.

He waited until the man finally shook his head, breaking from the spell of surprise. He sifted through the papers and glanced over one he picked up before sliding it in Halua’s direction. “We still start here. This is a report on one of our camps in the southwest. The captain speaks of daily routine and the men’s morale, amongst other issues.”

Halua picked up the paper and read it through. When he came upon a word or phrase that was unfamiliar, he pointed it out to Reshar. In turn, the man explained what it meant.

This was probably not what Reshar had meant by teaching him how to attend to his needs or suit his fancy, but Halua reasoned that a good way to appeal to Reshar was by understanding the world he lived in. It was a start, anyhow. And besides, he found himself enjoying learning about the military. His father had never let him learn before; his brothers were more privileged in that. Now that he had the opportunity to take in new information, he couldn’t quite hold back his joy.

Reshar looked at him curiously throughout their discussion. He said nothing of Halua’s strange mannerisms or interest in weaponry, but his eyes never left him. Halua was aware he was being studied, yet said nothing in return. So long as Reshar did not question him, he assumed it was acceptable enough to continue.

It was only when a knock came did they finally stop. One of Reshar’s men announced the time, bringing to light how late at night it was. Halua, unaware of his fatigue, suddenly felt it creep up on him. “Oh... Perhaps I ought to return.”

Reshar nodded and stood up, holding out his hand. Halua looked at it a moment before slipping his palm into the man’s grasp. Reshar guided him to his feet before letting go. “We can continue this another time. Rest well, Princess.”

“And you as well, Prince.” Expecting no more or less from the man, Halua took his leave with a polite bow. One of Reshar’s guards escorted him to the door and offered to take him back to the eastern side of the temple, but Halua refused. His feet might protest, but he was willing to use his feet.

He used the moonlight as guidance to the other side of the temple grounds. It was pretty at night, with the sky so clear and the air so fresh about him. Halua enjoyed the serenity and quiet of his surroundings, reminded of the quiet of his home with his mother. He missed her already.

Entering the house, Halua announced his arrival. Mern appeared from the main room. “You are by yourself?”

“Yes. You look surprised.”

“I thought you would have been accompanied. That guard never returned.”

Halua’s brows rose. “I left Prince Reshar’s company on my own. Perhaps he is still waiting for me and we missed each other?”

“Perhaps...” Mern did not look convinced. “But I am glad you are back safely. Would you like anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I think I will rest.”

“As you wish.”

Halua left Mern and went to his room. He undressed and hung his garbs, changing into lighter sleepwear. After assuring they remained secure on his person, Halua slipped into bed and rested upon a pillow. Strangely pleased with the progression of events, he slept with ease.