Breaker of Chains - Chapter Six

For Tenyo's Last Man Standing contest. Enjoy. World Count; 853, approx.

Chapter Six

The infirmary's braziers glowed in the dull light, smoke wafting upwards in clearly defined pillars. Arjana stared out the window, one curtain deftly lifted to watch the rising sun over the infirmary's herb garden. He was directly across from the bed that the healers had put Kaisar on, and was refusing to look at him. 

Behind him, Arjana could hear the healers muttering amongst themselves. He fixed his attention firmly on the acolytes picking herbs in the garden. The pretty young men and women with their long hair pulled back behind their heads dressed in the blue-trimmed white robes worked hard. He knew they did. But they were also cared for. He made sure of that. Watching them reminded him of the way he used to watch Kaisar when they were younger, and that in turn reminded him of the conversation they'd had just the night before.

"What do you mean, 'something's wrong', Kaisar?" Arjana had paced across the room and back. The guard had left, but he would still be outside in the hall. If they started shouting, he would hear them and come to check on him.

Kaisar had sat down heavily on the bed. "Arjana," he said, voice growing weak. "I'm trying to show you, and yet you pace like a hen whose head was chopped off by the cook."

He'd paid attention then, turning towards the other man. And Kaisar had just lifted his shirt to show him the nasty mess of blue-black cut through by rotting silk stitches. Arjana had sucked in a sharp breath, eyes gone wide. The wound had not healed. In fact, it had gotten worse. How had he not noticed that?

"By the gods," he whispered, going to Kaisar and dropping to his knees before him. He wasn't sure whether to touch the festering wound or not. Of course, his lover made the choice for him, gesturing for Arjana to keep his distance. He knew it was to keep him safe, lest the poison somehow transfer to him. "When did this happen?"

"This afternoon," Kaisar whispered, tugging the shirt down. He met Arjana's eyes with weary, fearful ones. He had been scared, and he was not afraid to show him that. This was not the Kaisar he'd grown up with. This was a new Kaisar, one who knew death was coming. Evidentially, he was willing to face it for him. "It has grown worse since then."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you would have betrayed what we are to the court, Arjana," the other man told him, covering the wound with one hand. Arjana lowered his head. They just needed a few more days. "And we cannot risk it. We need to end it, and to do so.... you need to be Emperor."

"Sire?" The healer's soft voice intruded on his musings where yelling would not have. He turned towards the man, letting the curtain drop back into place. The bald, dark skinned healer inclined his head but he didn't look away. Arjana wouldn't harm him, and they both knew that. In fact, this particular healer was the one he brought injured slaves to, and then they integrated them into the staff. 

"Yes?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the man. He'd asked Kaisar to hold out just a little longer, but that had proved to be his undoing. It was how he'd ended up there, in the infirmary. Ajana had miscalculated. They didn't have enough time. And the mention of a sister to deal with... Arjana shook his head, trying to focus.

The healer dropped his eyes. "He is unresponsive," he said, voice still soft. "We cannot wake him, my prince. The other healers and I have tried everything." He half-turned back to the infirmary bed, gesturing to the man who lay in it. "The poison used on both him and the Emperor is dangerous, and bespelled."

Arjana's gaze narrowed. "Bespelled?"

"Yes, sire," the healer replied, "we discovered that it's belladonna mixed with some rather nasty spell work."

He frowned and stepped away from the window, gaze darting to Kaisar. "You mean there's a mage involved?" he questioned, drifting slowly closer to the man he loved. The healer followed him on soft footsteps. "I don't like this."

"That is what we are thinking, sire," the healer said, moving ahead of him to join the two young women attending to Kaisar's wound. "You must know....as healers, we are unable to counteract this spell woven into the poison. It's in his blood, and there's not enough time."

Arjana's gaze narrowed at that, and he turned towards the other man. "Not enough time?" he asked, voice sharp. He watched the healer for a long moment, watching the bald man tend to his lover. Annoyed, he added; "For what?"

The healer glanced up at him, hands resting lightly on the edge of the infirmary bed. The words he used next put a chill down Arjana's spine, and were like a dagger to his heart. He watched the man's face, and sensed no betrayal as the healer spoke.

"For us to save both of them."