When Nestor gently woke him, he was confused, finding himself alone in the bed. Bright morning light burned at Nestor's pale complexion, but Kiram was relieved to see that the worst of his cuts and scratches had healed.
"I'm sorry, but we have to go," Nestor said quietly.
"Where?" Kiram tried to sit up and Nestor caught him in alarm. "Where are we going?" Kiram asked, even as Nestor gently eased him back into the bedding.
"You don't have to get up," Nestor said. "It's just Elezar and me. We're being sent back to Anacleto."
Anacleto seemed years away.
"You'll finally get to have your honeymoon," Kiram whispered.
Nestor smiled at that, but then concern returned to his countenance. "What should I tell your family?"
A pang of loneliness caught Kiram at the thought of his family, but then he remembered Majdi's approval of his gambit for independence.
"Tell them that I'm fine." Kiram decided. "That I love them and that they shouldn't worry."
Nestor nodded. He started to rise from Kiram's bedside but then stopped and looked back down at Kiram. "You're a hero, you know. All of us would have died if you hadn't…I can't imagine how much it hurt." Nestor's gaze dropped to black stitches and ropy scars that cut across Kiram's stomach and chest. "You nearly died."
Kiram wasn't certain that he hadn't died, but he didn't say as much. Nestor seemed to be on the verge of tears as was.
Finally, Nestor said, "I guess I'm just trying to say that I think-no, I know-that you are the best friend any man could ever hope to have."
Kiram grinned at Nestor, as he remembered telling Nestor much the same thing.
"No point in falling in love with me, though," Kiram responded as cavalierly as he could. "You're a married man."
Nestor laughed and then gave Kiram a knowing look. "I doubt I'd last long against your current suitor, in any case." His cheeks flushed red but he went on in a whisper. "I'm not against it, you know.It was strange-I mean at first I couldn't.But I realized that it's not what all those old priests screech on and on about…You're both brave and strong and.I think I can see it now…It's good. Both of you."
Kiram raised his brows, amazed that Nestor could be so frank, decent and compassionate and that he could move Kiram so deeply with such a string of broken phrases.
"Thank you, Nestor."
Nestor shrugged despite his flushed face. "Yeah, well, don't tell Elezar. He'd be pissed if he knew he wasn't fooling me anymore."
Kiram laughed at that and his stitches hurt, but it still felt good. Then Elezar shouted for Nestor and Nestor left Kiram alone. Kiram returned to his dreams, searching them for Javier.
That afternoon, Scholar Blasio removed Kiram's stitches with a quiet exclamation of wonder. He hadn't thought Kiram would survive and yet somehow his mortal injuries had healed faster than the scratch on Blasio's brow.
"They say God blesses the brave." Scholar Blasio touched Kiram's forehead. His hand felt soft and cool against Kiram's hot skin. "I'm inclined to think you're living proof of that."
Kiram wanted to tell the scholar that he was sorry that he'd lost his brother, but at the same time he couldn't bring himself to regret Donamillo's death, only the pain that it had caused.
"Rest now, Kiram," Scholar Blasio told him. Kiram felt sick of resting. He wanted to see Javier. He wanted to get up and find him, and yet a few moments later Kiram slipped back into the darkness of sleep.
When at last his fever broke and his senses returned, he found red scars criss-crossing his belly and chest. He stank of medicinal herbs, but a fresh breeze floated through the room.
Just from the angles of the walls and the long shafts of afternoon light, he knew at once that he was in his old bed in the tower room. But he was far from alone in the chamber.
Well-dressed courtiers conversed at the windows and lounged around the empty hearth. Servants attended them, offering silver goblets and dishes of olives and roasted nuts.
It seemed utterly wrong that so many strangers had invaded the space that had been a private sanctuary for Javier and himself. A year ago no one casually entered Javier's chambers, much less lingered, spilling wine and dropping olive pits on the floor as if it were a cheap room in a tavern.
A sensation like horror welled in Kiram as he noticed that all traces of Javier's wards had been scoured from the floors.
"No," Kiram whispered.
"Are you awake, then?"
Kiram turned to the voice and suddenly realized that a man had been sitting at his bedside watching him. Kiram didn't know if he should feel honored or terrified.
Dressed in violet and gold raiment, Prince Sevanyo looked out of place seated on a wooden school chair. Behind the prince, armed guards and young pages lounged and whispered among themselves.
Kiram pulled himself a little more upright. He tensed, expecting the motion to hurt, but only the slightest ache arose from his scarred body.
"Do you recognize me this time, young Master Kir-Zaki?"
"Yes, Your Highness." Kiram bowed awkwardly in the bed. Had he failed to recognize the prince previously? He prayed that he hadn't been too rude. Something in the prince's amused smile made Kiram think that he'd been more flattered than insulted. Kiram wondered if he'd called out to Javier.
"Very good." The prince nodded.
"Do you know where Lord Tornesal is?" Kiram asked. He searched the faces of the men loitering in the room but none were Javier.
"I do, but before I answer your question I would have you answer one of mine."
"Of course, Your Highness."
"What did you see?" Prince Sevanyo leaned closer to Kiram and spoke in a hushed voice. "When you died, what was there?"
"It was light," Kiram responded. He could see that Prince Sevanyo wanted more then just that. "There was no pain and I wasn't afraid."
"Did you see angels or devils?" The prince gazed at Kiram intently and the afternoon light etched the deep lines of his gaunt face. "A garden of jewels and gold?"
"No, Your Highness." Kiram couldn't bring himself to lie. "There was only light and comfort. and then I think I saw Javier and he brought me back." Kiram met the prince's gaze. "Will you please tell me where he is?"
Prince Sevanyo sighed and leaned back in the simple wooden chair.
"He is presently in the room below this one, being held prisoner until the royal bishop arrives."
"But he didn't possess Fedeles-"
Prince Sevanyo rolled his eyes and raised a gloved hand against Kiram's protests. His rings gleamed in the afternoon light.
"We know that he did nothing to his cousin. The Grunito brothers, War Master Ignacio and Scholar Blasio have all testified as much. And of course Fedeles Quemanor has corroborated their stories." The prince shook his head. "It seems that my young brother, the royal bishop, was far too rash in his judgment. His imprudence nearly allowed a madman to seize control of the dukedom of Rauma as well as the white hell. And it has cost him the lives of his own men."
"But if you know that, then why is Jav-Lord Tornesal being held prisoner?" Kiram flushed at his gaffe but the prince didn't seem to care. He sighed and stretched out his long legs.
"Javier," Prince Sevanyo said, "has proclaimed himself a convert to the Bahiim religion."
Kiram winced at the idea of Javier cavalierly making such an announcement.
"Indeed." Prince Sevanyo sighed. "The royal bishop has demanded that Javier be held prisoner until he arrives here to try him for heresy."
"No." Kiram couldn't help his response.
Prince Sevanyo raised a white brow, and the gesture reminded Kiram painfully of Javier.
"The royal bishop is well within his rights, Master Kir-Zaki. At the very least he will have the pleasure of excommunicating Javier."
"But doesn't Javier deserve some lenience? He did keep Scholar Donamillo from-"