John Fultz - Seven Princes

Now this campaign to unite four kingdoms in a war the likes of which had never been seen in modern history. He was glad for the chance to remove himself from court, to dwell upon the journey, the diplomacy, and the warfare that would follow. By distracting himself with bold endeavors, he might forget the pain of his loss. He must forge a new set of legends and stories to rival those of Vod. He must become his father by doing great things, by shaking the world into new forms and shapes.

Vireon was different. He held no ambition, and he lost his pain by losing himself in the glory of nature, the thrill of the Long Hunt. Tadarus envied him. In many ways, Vireon was still only a boy. He knew the throne would never be his, so he was free to be a child of the forest. There was little responsibility on Vireon’s shoulders, though they were as wide and strong as Tadarus’ own. Tadarus loved his younger brother and missed him even now, but the throne rooms and [ne as battlefields of distant lands were no place for Vireon. Besides, Tadarus did not know when he would return to Udurum, so Vireon had best keep their mother safe.

“How far until Steephold?” asked Andoses. It was only the company’s first day in the mountains, but for him the journey could not pass quickly enough.

“Two days at this speed,” said Tadarus. “If the weather holds.”

They would find warm fires, fresh bread, and good meat at the citadel. Fifty Uduru were stationed there to watch over the pass from its mid-point. Andoses would see the Serpent bones Tadarus had mentioned. And friends were there whom Tadarus had not seen in five years, since his trip to visit Uurz with his father and brothers. He was barely twenty at the time, and it seemed Vod would live and rule forever. Perhaps it was thoughts of their father that now plagued Fangodrel?

Tadarus let his steed drop back and drew up alongside his brother. Fangodrel looked at him with piercing eyes, his face a white wedge of calm. Tadarus rode near him in silence awhile. He never knew how to approach Fangodrel without sparking an argument, so he usually avoided him. Which, given Fangodrel’s introverted pursuits, was not hard to do. He rarely entered the training yard, the wrestling pit, or the stables. More likely he’d be in the library learning some esoteric history or holed up in his room writing verse… or cavorting with some courtesan. His appetites were notorious, but then Tadarus and Vireon also had their fair share of lovers. Fangodrel kept his affairs as secret as possible, yet there was only so much secrecy to be had in a palace. Tadarus knew how cruel Fangodrel was to his wenches, how he beat the servants and maidens who displeased him. Perhaps he thought a Prince should behave in such a way. Such behavior bred little love among the court.

“ You must lead the diplomacy,” Queen Shaira had told Tadarus. “You will be the one who convinces Dairon to support Shar Dni… not Fangodrel.”

“Then why send him at all, Mother?” Tadarus had asked.

“He is the eldest,” she replied. “To not send him would be an insult. But we both know he is no sweet-tongued ambassador.”

“Nor am I,” said Tadarus.

“You do not have to be,” said Shaira. “You are the son of a Hero-King, and you wear Vod’s image on your face. Fangodrel… Fangodrel is different. You know this.”

“Yes,” said Tadarus. “He is more like you than father.”

Shaira stared at him then, as if he’d said something odd. Then she only smiled and reminded him of his duty.

“Remember that you speak for New Udurum,” she said. “If Fangodrel fails to realize this you must… remind him.”

Tadarus reassured her: he knew his role and that of his brother.

“And when you get to Mumbaza this will be even more important,” said the Queen. “Fangodrel is a figurehead only. You, Tadarus, are my voice and mind. If we are to aid my brother’s people, it falls upon you to secure these alliances.”

“Do not forget,” said Tadarus. “Andoses will be with us.”

“Yes, of course. But a Prince of Shar Dni is not a Prince of Udurum. You are also the voice of the Giants. The world respects this, fears it even. It is what separates us from all other kingdoms.”

“Mother…” Tadarus hesitated. “What if we gain the alliance of Uurz and Mumbaza, but the Giants decide not to fight? What then?”

Shaira smiled at her son, kissed him on the forehead. “Son, when have you ever known an Uduru not to want to fight?”

Now Tadarus rode beside the brooding Fangodrel and searched for words. The shadows of the peaks fell over them and the light of the sun was lost. A new chill crept along the pass like invisible fog. The horses breathed out white vapor.

“What do you want, Tadarus?” Fangodrel finally asked.

“You seem troubled, brother,” said Tadarus. “Do you think of our father?”

Fangodrel started to laugh, but checked himself. He turned his lean face again to Tadarus.

“No,” was all he said.

“You do not seem your usual self,” said Tadarus.

“You hardly know me, brother,” said Fangodrel.

“True,” said Tadarus. “But this must change. We have a long journey ahead of us. Why must we stay at such lengths from each other? We are the same blood. Things should be different between us.”

Fangodrel mused on his brother’s words awhile. He tilted his head. “Tell me,” he said. “Why do you wait until now to make this offer? You have spurned me all your life. You are favored by Mother and Father. I am at best tolerated. Now you find yourself forced to endure my presence, and you wish to make a peace?”

Tadarus pursed his lips. He would not let his brother anger him, as he was so skilled at doing. He must see past the harsh words, the mistrust. This man was his brother, and however different they were, there should be love between them. Should be.

“We’ve had our differences,” said Tadarus. “But Father is gone; our family is changed. Soon the world will change too. By the things we go to do now, we will change it. Let us join together and write a new story. We are no longer children, Fangodrel. We must act like Men.”

Fangodrel guffawed. “You, who are younger, lecture me on maturity? Your ego knows no bounds, Prince.”

Tadarus ignored the pressure rising in his chest. “You are but a year my elder,” he said.

“Still… I am your elder,” said Fangodrel.

“What of it?” said Tadarus, a sliver of anger slipping into his words.

“The t [="3 Hehrone will be mine when Mother dies,” said Fangodrel. “You cannot accept this fact. It eats at you like a disease. I see your envy dripping like poison from your eyes.”

“The throne will never be yours,” said Tadarus. Rage stole his words and ran away with them. His face flushed bright red. “You are too weak, and you are too cruel! Men will not follow you, nor Giants. What little wisdom you do have you waste on stale rhymes and cheap whores. That is why I lead this company – not you. Do not forget it.”

Fangodrel rode on unmoved by his brother’s anger. He blinked as the sun appeared above a ridgeline. “This is how you make peace,” he said. “Well done, my loving brother.”

Tadarus groaned, cursed between his teeth. His brother had done it again. Made him lose his temper. Gods be damned, he wouldn’t make the mistake of reaching out to this wretch again. He leaned over in the saddle, bringing his face close to that of Fangodrel.

“Just you mind your place in my company, brother,” Tadarus said, teeth gritted.

“Or what?” said Fangodrel. “You’ll kill me? You’d be a kinslayer, a cursed criminal.”

“If I wanted to kill you I’d have done it years ago.”

“You haven’t the stomach for it,” said Fangodrel. “You’ll always be Mother’s little boy. Play at war if you like, throw your stones and wrestle your Giants… but that’s all you are. You hate me because I know this better than anyone.”