RE: Monarch-Chapter 256: Kholis I

Fog moved in from the east in slow rolling clouds, pearlescent and ghostlike as it poured over stone walls and seeped through portcullis grating. It swallowed the mostly abandoned courtyard, transforming it into a spectral landscape draped in endless sparkling dew. The early snows had already melted away, but the final days of autumn were fast approaching. The bitter chill beneath the wind carried whispered promises of frost to come—promises I had now heard across two lifetimes.

This time of year around the capital always felt poignant somehow. Heavy intimations of life and its inevitable end, creating a sense of muted urgency that infected everyone.

People rushed from place to place, seeking both the shelter of warmth and making frantic preparations for the long dark that was to follow. All the while, they carried the simple truth buried in their hearts: It was possible to endure Winterswell—nearly the entire city did, though there were always some unfortunate casualties lost to the savagery of nature—but almost impossible to fully prepare for it.

The cold was all-encompassing, and the mind was not. No matter how many precautions were taken, something you didn't think to account for would inevitably go wrong. Winter found the gaps in your defenses like water seeping through stone.

The sanctum had been a complete reprieve from the demands of the north. Its many chambers varied drastically in terms of climate and magical influence. While there were polar elements among them, few reached the same deathly cold as the north, and fewer still took more than a day or two to traverse.

For all intents and purposes, the sanctum had presented a long summer, and I was no longer the weathered northerner I'd once been. Even now, the gentle breeze cut through my cloak and the leathered armor beneath, finding the soft places I had forgotten to protect.

The note in my hand rippled in the wind, and I looked over it again, the ink blurring where morning damp had touched it.

TALK TO THE STABLE HAND BEFORE YOU GO.

Finding it there, folded up and shoved beneath my door had given me a mild dose of terror. The trip originally proposed as a flight of fancy had taken on more meaning and intention and now felt important, vital even. Upon finding the note, I was almost certain we would be interrupted, only to recognize my father in the handwriting and contents, that immediate fear easing into a different kind of tension.

The boy was posted up beneath a lantern that glowed orange, its light catching in the tendrils of fog that curled around him. He was occupied with a mug of something that steamed in the brusque air. He started when he noticed me and quickly brushed long dark bangs out of his eyes, a gesture that spoke of nervousness before nobility.

I gave the boy an awkward wave, which he returned, nearly dropping his mug in the process. "I was told we had business to attend to."

"Greetings milord!" The boy responded with an enthusiasm that belied the early hour. "That we do, that we do." He tipped his mug back and finished the drink without fanfare, then dragged a sleeve across his mouth. "Not every day a man faces a choice like this one."

The wording caught me out. "What... sort of choice?"

Instead of answering, the boy waved me in through the stable's gate. The rich stench of manure hung heavy in the dense air, an earthy counterpoint to the ethereal fog. Most of the horses were crowded in the back stalls, their soft nickering creating a gentle backdrop of sound. Only two remained up front. The first was a dark horse with streaks of red and honeyed brown, his coat gleaming like burnished metal even in the dim light. Beyond him was an animal I recognized almost immediately, a shadow from another life.

"Hello," I exclaimed, quickly striding across the hay-strewn ground to approach him, my heart racing with unexpected recognition.

"Careful my lord." The stable hand's voice carried a note of genuine concern.

"I'll be cautious." I approached the horse I'd known long ago and held out a hand to allow him to grow accustomed to my scent. The beast snorted, nostrils flaring wide, then backed away from the gate and let out a high-pitched whinny that rang with unfamiliarity.

Remember, he doesn't know you in this life.

The thought settled like a stone in my chest. Still, I had to ask, just to be sure. "What's his name?"

"Titan, your grace." The hand crossed his arms and inspected the animal crossly. "Named with a healthy dollop of irony, no doubt, but Deepvalley Pacers are sought for swiftness, not size." He extended his arm to the opposite stall, towards the dark horse whose eyes tracked my every movement. "Willow over here is an Irondale."

"Mare?" I asked, not quite believing it on account of the considerable size, the horse standing tall enough that I would need to reach up to touch its face.

"Stallion, and if you make light of his name on account of it, he'll remember it too." The stable hand let out a low chuckle that resonated with genuine amusement. "One of the others caught a nice horse-sized bite on the ass for that exact reason. Assuming you don't make light of his name, he's impeccably well-tempered. Doesn't scare easy, defends the rider instinctively. Less bulky than the average Irondale, but that's a high bar, and he's more agile than average too, making him remarkably better rounded."

As good as the alternative sounded, I found myself drawn to Titan again, pulled by the gravity of shared history that existed only in my mind. I'd ridden many horses over this life and the last, but none were as clever and intuitive as Titan had been. His greatest strength was endurance, speed presenting a distant second. I'd planned to use that endurance to escape the coronation at the end of my second life.

How times had changed. The irony wasn't lost on me.

There wasn't much of a choice logically. We were already taking a risk, traveling to Kholis with practically no retinue. Selecting a horse that was unlikely to survive an ambush was foolishness. Still, I'd spent many, many days working with Titan. Our bond was hard earned, and even though it made sense, the thought of selecting a different horse didn't sit well, like betraying an old friend who no longer remembered my face.

"Shall we take them out?" The boy asked, sensing my indecision with surprising perception. "They don't get along well, but as long as there's a healthy separation between them, a little test ride in the round pen should be fine."

I agreed, and we spent much of the next half hour doing just that. Unfortunately, the experience did nothing to help Titan's chances. He'd been nervous in my last life, a trait that I'd eventually trained out of him with time and patience. But even compared to the early days, his reactions were stiff, and when I briefly rode him, there was a near-constant quiver I'd never noticed before, a trembling beneath the saddle that spoke of deep unease.

"Is he ill?" I asked, grasping at straws, searching for any explanation beyond simple rejection.

"Not that I've noticed." The stable boy stared at the horse in annoyance. "This is the first time he's acted craven, far as I'm aware. To be honest, most of the time he's more smug than anything else."

I remember. The thought came unbidden, a smile with it.

I dismounted and patted Titan gently, feeling a degree of sadness as the beast pulled away when he would have leaned in before. The small rejection stung more than it should have.

Willow, alternatively, was a great deal more agreeable. Despite considerable side eye—and there is no creature more capable of side eye than a spirited horse—he seemed to understand what I wanted intuitively, responded perfectly to both rein and free-handed control, overall reacting much the way Titan had after nearly a year's worth of work and training.

When I dismounted, Willow continued to stand near me knowingly, as if the decision had already been made. The beast bumped me with his nose, once, huffing warm breath against my palm as I gently pushed him away. "What happens to the horse I don't choose?"

"Oh. My understanding is they were both procured for you. They're both young horses from coveted breeds, so if you decide you don't like either of them, the crown would have no trouble putting them to use." The stable hand answered, though something in his tone suggested there was more to the story.

It struck me as only partially true. A horse like Willow would have soldiers and generals fighting over it if it ever went to auction, but Titan was a harder sell. If it didn't find a decent price at market—and there was a chance he wouldn't—it would be consigned to the fields, destined to pull a plow, all that speed and cleverness wasted in drudgery.

Unable to help myself, I approached Titan again. He stirred, clearly unhappy with the advance, but did not panic. I reached out, and this time he let me stroke his head, though the tension never left his body. "Hello old friend." I lowered my voice so the stable hand couldn't hear me. Now that he was allowing contact, I moved upward and scratched behind his ears, his favorite spot in another lifetime. "That's better, isn't it?" Some of his caution melted away, and he leaned into my hand, a ghost of the trust we once shared. "Now I don't mind putting a little extra effort in to protect you. Xescalt armor, perhaps. Light enough that it shouldn't slow us down much, strong enough to keep you alive. We'll train out your nerves eventually, just like we did last time. Everything else we can work on. All I need to know is that you won't bolt on me."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

The biggest difference between this life and the last was my abilities as a mage.

It was the only reason I could think of that explained why Titan was acting so drastically different. Like people, animals could sense dense mana in both environments and individuals, and reacted to it in different ways. I kept a comforting hand on Titan's snout and drew in as much mana as I could. Then more. My veins thrummed with effervescence, thoughts growing still until none remained, the world narrowing to a single point of light.

There was a tremble in my soul. A flash of something. Some memory. A slow, reverberating drip of water.

A panicked, inhuman scream brought me back to reality.

Titan reared up on his back legs, forelegs dangling above me menacingly, ready to plunge back down at any moment. Someone shouted for me to move and I did so, leaping onto the nearby fence and throwing myself over it as the hooves slammed down into the dirt where my boots had been, leaving deep impressions in the packed earth.

Meanwhile, the horse that had nearly triggered the most frivolous reset to date, galloped to the opposite side of the pen, directly away from me, as the poor stable boy did his best to rein him in. As chaos played out, Willow easily freed himself from the post the stable boy had tied him to, giving a few yanks before the leather came free. He trotted over to me, flexing the accomplishment, as if to say. "I'm not scared of you."

I amplified the mana intake until I felt the buzzing again, and Willow snorted, but stood his ground, ears perked forward in curiosity rather than flattened back in fear.

"It's gonna be you and me, huh?" I mused, reaching up to stroke his muscular neck.

"So, so sorry milord." The stable boy shouted, his eyes flashing, jaw quivering in fear. Eventually he got Titan's lead and reined him in. "Sometimes it takes a beast a while to show its flaws, particularly the well-bred. Once the stable master gets word of this, it'll be dealt with appropriately."

"It's my fault." I interjected quickly, "Not his. Got the sense my magic might be what was bothering him and tested that theory." I wouldn't have another death on my conscience, especially not one so needless.

"Huh. That why your eye was... all glowing and blue-like?" The stable boy tapped his temple, forcing a smile but still clearly on edge. "It was a bit intimidating."

"Like I said, not his fault." I shrugged, then decided. "Maybe it's greedy, but I'd like to reserve both. They're beautiful animals. One just likes me less than the other. Keep what happened here between us." I pointed to Titan. "He's a good boy, just frightened. Make sure he's taken care of and spoiled rotten. There'll be extra gold in it for you if you do."

/////

The fog faded as I finished preparations for the journey, fitting Willow with a saddle and saddlebags, and checked his hooves for any detritus. He was wonderfully intuitive, lifting each foot in sequence for me to check them, raising one twice, insistently, until I found the pebble lodged in it. The small stone pinged against a nearby barrel when I flicked it away.

Slowly, the yard came alive as the fog retreated and more people filtered out and around the castle, nobles busy on their way to nowhere and the servants who attended them, all moving in that practiced dance of the privileged and those who served them.

An armored man approached from a distance, grinning from ear to ear, the morning light gleaming on his polished breastplate.

"Greetings Uncle," I called out to him. Getting the shit-end of the previous night's affairs hadn't tempered his spirits much, which was a relief to see.

"Hello Nephew. I see you've made a fine selection." He grinned, eyeing Willow with appreciative eyes that missed nothing.

I put the pieces together. "This was your idea?"

"Sort of," he half shrugged. "Your father and I got deep into our cups last night after the women retired, and he told me all about how insufferable you are."

"Insufferable?" My eyebrows shot up, though I couldn't quite muster genuine offense.

"'No father, I need nothing for myself for this heroic deed that will literally go down in the history of our kingdom. Give it to the masses instead.'" Luther mocked, and his obvious disapproval was so puerile I couldn't help but laugh. "It's Uskar, kid. If you don't look out for yourself no one else will."

"No one but you." I pointed out, reaching up to scratch Willow's head after the beast nudged me. "Thank you for this."

"Thank your father." Luther's voice softened momentarily. "Now tell me about this trip. What kind of security are you bringing?"

"Well, there's Maya." I thought about it, weighing the reality against the expectations. "And we'll be traveling back to Kholis with the local lord, someone I met not long after I stumbled off the wagon."

"That feels like a lifetime ago." Luther mused, more introspective than usual, his eyes distant with memory.

"Indeed." More than he could possibly know.

"He's trustworthy?"

"That, and keenly aware of the dangers we face." I agreed, remembering Thoth's ambush and how quickly and efficiently Lucius had snapped into action. "He'll be prepared. Have his own retinue."

My Uncle winced. "The King has gotten word that you intend to leave your bodyguard here in Whitefall."

"Gods dammit." Both Sera and Annette were more than capable of taking care of themselves. But the assassination attempt had set my teeth on edge. Logically, the Drephin wouldn't try again for at least a couple of months. The smart thing to do was wait until we'd let our guard down, and business at the castle went back to life as usual.

Alten was the insurance I intended to leave behind in case they weren't that smart.

"Obviously, he voiced some concerns. Wanted you to bring some of the black shields along for the journey." Luther's tone made it clear this wasn't merely a suggestion.

"Absolutely not." I replied reflexively, an immediate heat growing in my chest. Other than some initial friction all of the black shields' transgressions had taken place in my previous life. Nevertheless, I didn't want them anywhere near us. To be frank, I didn't want anyone from the capital along for the ride. I could limit the number to three, pick them at random, and at least two would spend their evenings sending missives to Thaddeus, reporting our every move.

"Figured." Luther concurred, mouth splitting in a winning smile. "Which is why I volunteered my services. As uh, penance for my earlier lapse."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "So he chews you out for an alleged lapse, banishes you from dinner, calls you back, and assigns more work."

"Welcome to the runaway wagon that comes with being the brother to the King Regent. At the very least there's been no suspicion of treason or real talk of removing said traitorous head from its shoulders." The dark humor in his voice couldn't quite hide the edge of genuine bitterness.

Having Luther along for the journey was a welcome alternative. He hated Thaddeus with a quiet passion and was thereby unlikely to breach our privacy, and in terms of competency had spent most of his younger years sparring with Gil. There was a reason he tended to sweep any tournament he took part in. By any standards, Luther was a damn good fighter. But it was still another set of eyes where I'd prefer none.

"We—Maya and I both—have, in some ways fortunate, other ways less so, become highly recognizable figures for various reasons. We are always being watched, and seldom have an opportunity to just..."

"Be free?" Luther offered, filling in the blank with unexpected perception.

"And unburden. This is that opportunity for us." I admitted, the truth of it resonating in my chest.

My uncle nodded, understanding immediately. "Say no more. You're a noble heading into the idyllic countryside with a woman who is neither your wife nor your betrothed. Been in those boots more than once. I'll keep a sharp eye out for danger, but beyond that, give you all the space you need."

I thought about correcting him, making up some sort of story. But he'd already seen through the excuses, and when it came down to it, I trusted my Uncle's discretion. He had always been good at keeping secrets.

"Thank you."

Somewhere behind me a familiar voice laughed, the sound like sunlight breaking through clouds. I turned, looking for the source. Two horses trotted out of the stables, led by Lucius. A tall chestnut horse and Maya's steed, a dappled one with a light mane. Maya followed along beside him, still laughing at something Lucius had said, her face animated in a way I rarely saw within the castle walls. Several guards milling around behind them bore Lucius's house sigil of a vulture in flight. They were better armed than the guards of Kholis had been, and judging from the vigilance and posture, were considerably better trained as well.

"Are you sure the two of you don't want to take off without me?" I called over to them, the jest covering a genuine question.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Please. My lady wife would get word, and there would be no end of questions."

"Right. The barmaid."

"You watch your fucking mouth." Lucius stood his ground for a moment, then passed off his reins to an attendant and wrapped me in an embrace, holding an arm out to Maya, who eventually joined us. "It'll be wonderful to have you both in our care. What fun we'll have these next few days. It's been too long."

"Hopefully, it ends better than last time." Maya pointed out ruefully. All three of us laughed, the sound carrying with it shared memories of danger survived.

"The arch-fiend is across the ocean and out of reach. Our odds are far better." I shrugged, then introduced Lucius to my uncle. They shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, then Lucien complimented Luther's sword, and they were suddenly best of friends, bonded in that immediate way of men who respect each other's martial prowess.

Once my uncle retrieved his horse and luggage, we made our way to the Western Gate. Between Lucius, Maya, and myself, we were likely too eye-catching to avoid notice, but the western gate was quieter than the others, so at the very least there was less traffic to weave through. In less than an hour we were free, with nothing but the muted brown of the road leading to the Everwood before us, and an expanse of green that grew more wild by the moment, untamed by the hands of man.

"Everyone stay close. There's not a lot of hands on deck, and the last noble to get lost in the Everwood took a stone's age to show his ugly face again." My uncle chortled at his own joke, then took a moment to look at us all seriously, checking for confirmation. Lucius quickly agreed, and we followed. In a way it was charming. Both Maya and I had survived for years in the Sanctum. In terms of natural danger, the deeper layers were magnitudes more threatening than anything the Everwood had on offer. Still it was the thought that counted.

For all the grief my disappearance had likely caused him, Luther deserved a little closure.

And if something truly went wrong, we'd be all the better for it.

Can I really do this?

It was only three days. I'd been imprisoned for far longer than that and the world hadn't fallen apart in my absence. It would be fine.

It would be fine.