Just a short note to thank everyone who sent e-mails saying how they liked my story--here is Part 2.
Michael was awakened by a knock on his door and yawned before calling out, "Enter."
The door opened and Master Blaine stepped through, followed by a servant with a tray. The servant set down the tray on a near table, bowed to both men and left.
"You," Michael said, tingeing the word to mean something foul as he recalled meeting Master Blaine and then being hit on the head by him. "I had better hear some answers from you." He rose and dressed when he found that the clothes laid out on the bed were the ones that Blaine had given to him.
"Michael. . ."
"You can call me Mr. Atwood--yes, I do have my memory now. You can start by telling me where I am and how I can go back home."
"You are in Clarmont of Ardith--one of the seven kingdoms of Answun. . .and as for going home--wherever that may be. . .well, you cannot," Master Blaine added sadly and then told of Michael's arrival which released such force as to warp the natural and give headaches to any mage-born within fifty miles.
"Wait. . .you mean magic--it doesn't exist and if it did, why would a school teacher know of it?"
"I am a Master--the highest ranking and the most powerful of all mages in Ardith. I train new mages at my school. The kind of power that brought you here was--well, I have never before seen nor could I ever dream of calling up such power," Master Blaine admitted.
"Why did you heal me only to attack me again?" He asked and saw Master Blaine's face redden as he sat down at the table.
"You were in need, and the way you arrived here matched an old prophecy concerning a man that would be well in the midst of Nature's Fury and would come to save our region from destruction."
"Oh, really--and how do I manage to do that?"
"You are to be joined with Prince Davin."
"Don't you have any volcanoes that I could just jump into?" At seeing his puzzled expression, Michael sighed and motioned for Master Blaine to join him.
"Every ruler has to have a Heartsworn--they cannot be crowned king or queen. They can rule as Regent only and thus are not as one with the land."
"So what has this to do with me? Your prince is handsome enough to have plenty of people pledging their love to him."
"No--the connection between Royalty and their Heartsworn must work on both--the love must be given and returned equally. The joining links two magics--that of the king in this case and his land. Some say that the Heartsworn keeps the king or queen centered on reality and prevents their mind from being blighted from all the magic," Master Blaine revealed as he ate. "But what is not known is that the Heartsworn is the person with the magic and the Royal can draw on that power. I believe you to be Prince Davin's Heartsworn."
"But I am a man," Michael said.
"So? We are fated to love our chosen one before birth. Love is always welcomed wherever it may grow, either as woman-to-man, man-to-man, or woman-to-woman."
"Then why be a drama queen--why not just introduce me to your prince?"
"Davin had a. . .lover die very early, lost in a battle. I was the only one that he confided in--no one else knows that they had been lovers. It's been two summers. He needs to be king--it is his birthright."
"He may not be ready for that--and besides you said that without a Heartsworn he could rule as Regent--why not just let him be? It's not a crown that makes a king."
"That is true, but when a Royal is joined, the magic becomes active and ties into the magic of the land and shields it and his people from magical attacks and monsters. Our kingdoms are small--others would take opportunity to seize land. They have not only because our army is so strong. Believe me, he needs you. . .or do you not care for him?"
"He is handsome, but I just don't believe in this--not in love, not in magic and monsters, nor in your prince."
"He saved your life," Master Blaine whispered.
"After you arranged and endangered it--that doesn't count!. Besides, I. . .could not like a man that takes such liberties with a defenseless guest!"
"Davin is a good man with a kind heart and just almost to a fault--he would have done no such thing!"
"I awoke unclothed and in his bed with his arm around me--it may be years since I was with a man in that way, but I still recall the general idea of it."
"Prince Davin called in a physician and he was the one who undressed you. Also, he was out late drinking that night and I doubt that he was in condition to do anything even had he wanted to!" Master Blaine stood up. "If you cannot see the man that he is, then mayhap I have been mistaken about you after all," he added as he left and firmly shut the door.
Michael left the food on the tray and walked over to the window. He felt badly for what he had first believed about Davin. Even though he did not know him, the heated insistence of Blaine's voice defending his prince told him that Davin most likely was just as he had proclaimed. He recalled those steel-blue eyes that had seemed to penetrate him to his very soul--he had a weakness for blue-eyes ever since his first love. Michael laughed out loud, a laugh that sounded more sad than anything else. Join with Prince Davin and be lovers--Blaine must be crazy. . .oh, there was no doubt that he could possibly fall in love with Davin, but there was no way that someone as handsome as Davin would fall for him. He knew very well why it was called 'falling' in love, but he was tired of crashing and burning after each fall.
He thought of all the mistakes and disasters--men dumping him to chase after some young, vacuous pretty boy-type, men breaking up with him and the realization that they had never cared anything about him, men telling him all the right things just to try to get him into bed. Michael had long ago faced up to the fact that he just wasn't the type to inspire love. He was just so tired of it all--tired of being the only person in the relationship. No--no more--his heart would not have free reign again, but he at least owed the prince an apology.
Michael looked down at the grounds and could see a corner of a garden and a fountain he'd like to tour, but he couldn't navigate his way through all these corridors, halls and stairs. He'd go stir-crazy if he had to stay in this room all day.
"Well, if I get lost, at least I won't be bored," Michael said acerbically as he walked to the door and opened it. A guardsman with a ring-metal tunic over plain clothes dyed dark blue turned and bowed with a half-nod.
"You have need, sir?"
"Uh, yes. . .I'd like to tour the grounds if I may," he said, a bit unnerved at finding a guard at his door much like some obedient lapdog.
"Verily, sir, attend me," the guardsman said as he turned and headed down the hall. Michael assumed 'attend' meant 'follow' and walked behind him.
"This is a grand structure," he said, not wishing to label it castle or keep in case it was the other, "can you tell me of it? I am--foreign to these parts." 'No lie there,' he thought ruefully.
The guardsman began to explain the layout of the castle--a Main Hall which extended to the third floor, offices for those who ran the castle on the first floor. Two towers flanked the entrance to the Main Hall and were the Armory and the Garrison. On the second floor were a study, a sitting room, a library and a Council Room. The third floor had servants quarters. Stairs from the Main Hall led to the Great Hall with a kitchen below and guest rooms above. Beyond the Great Hall was a semicircular ballroom with arched doors that opened out onto the gardens. Two more towers set on each side of the ballroom and were the Royal appointments and a chirurgeon's ward and apothecary.
They walked down stairs and went out through the ballroom to the garden. Michael could see a few gardeners tending to the plants and flowers in the distance. The gardens gave way to a leveled out dirt field that twisted around the corner. He could hear the deep thunk of wood against wood and men's voices raised in mirth and friendly competition.
"The practice field," the guardsman said as they rounded the corner. Archery targets were the only thing he remotely recognized, but he saw a group of men gathered around two men practicing with what seemed to be quarterstaffs. Michael hefted one and heard a wild shout from the grouped men congratulating and praising the victor.
"Hey, boy--this place is for fighting men, not wishful little lords pretending to be men," one man shot out. Michael turned and saw that the one who spoke was holding a quarterstaff and sweating lightly.
"Oh, no, sir--I wouldn't even think to wish that I was like you--why would I wish to debase myself in such a manner?" He retorted, hearing mighty guffaws and chortles from the crowd before they were silenced by a glare from the man.
" Tis no play we do, young sirrah."
"Good--I don't play," Michael said as he tossed the staff to his other hand and walked inside the ring of men to meet the earlier victor.
Prince Davin sat in Council and tried to bring his mind back on business--if it hadn't have been for Blaine's way of reiterating a person's question or comment and for the Recorder pointing out what had gone on before he lost track, the meeting would have been a disaster. But now it was over and Davin and Blaine walked out of the room behind the other members.
"Thank you."
"No worry-- I could see that you were distracted--want to talk?"
"No--it's nothing really," Davin stated, not sure how to express his mixed emotions. 'It's only been two years--such a short time and yet it seems like forever--at times it seemed more like it had happened to someone else,' he thought. Yet there was something about this man--he was spirited, independent, possessed an unconscious beauty--and enough nerve to stand up to anyone.
"It had to do with Michael--does it not?"
"Mindreader," Prince Davin muttered in jest.
"No--I just know you too well, my friend." Blaine chuckled as they stopped at a balcony overlooking the practice field.
Below was the usual crowd of guards, but they could hear that the men were more rowdy and jibing at the two combatants. Davin saw one was the Armsmaster who had trained him and still practiced with from time to time. The other was good, although he took a few tumbles, he managed to get himself up and block the oncoming blows. As he raised the quarterstaff, the sunlight reflected off of the man's hand. Davin leaned closer for he knew that any guard never wore ornamentation that wasn't useful in battle and saw that the man's shirt was a dark green rather than the traditional dark blue.
"Why that's. . ." Davin began.
"Yes, it is--he is pretty good with a quaterstaff," Blaine commented, watching his prince more than the contest below.
"You saw him earlier today, did you not?"
"Indeed I did--we talked for a time."
"Did he say anything about. . .what did you talk about?" Davin asked, mentally cursing himself inside for what he had almost asked.
"Oh, not much, just the usual pleasantries," Blaine said offhandedly. "But he did express interest in a tour of the countryside--and it is a beautiful day for riding."
"I doubt if he would be pleased to accompany me," Davin said as he recalled his rebuking.
"Nonsense--I have it on good authority that he finds you handsome--besides, it would be accommodating a guest."
"He does? Um, I mean, yes, it would," Davin said as he looked down on the field for a long moment and then descended the stairs to the field. Blaine smirked as Davin made his way across the field.
Michael brushed sweat from his forehead and tightened his grip. This man he faced was very good, and he had given him few spills that he had almost not been able to recover from--one in fact he had not been quick enough and knew he'd sport a bruise along his ribs tomorrow. Michael ducked a blow and back-stepped when the staff came back at him and fell--he steeled himself for the strike to come and was surprised when it didn't fall. He looked about and saw that the men all were standing rigidly and parted to reveal Prince Davin.
"Breaking in someone new--run out of men foolhardy to take you on, Anton?"
Prince Davin said as he stopped beside Michael and offered a hand.
"Aye--the men catch on too quickly they do," Anton guffawed, "though this one did himself well--with a bit of work he could easily hold his own." The Armsmaster added as Michael took the proffered hand and was pulled up.
Michael handed the staff to whom Davin had called Anton and nodded, "Thank you, I'd like that if you would have the time," he added as he brushed himself off as best he could, not yet noticing that Davin was still holding his hand.
"Practice is an hour before nooning," Anton replied.
Michael turned and looked up at Davin and blushed when he met those steely blues and took his hand lose and inclined his head, "You're Highness."
"Michael John Atwwod, I was about to go riding and wondered if you'd care to accompany me."
"I would like that--thank you," he said and followed Davin to the stables.
A glossy, solid ebony horse was saddled for Davin and a fleet sorrel was led out to Michael. He got up in the saddle with a grimace of pain as his tender ribs strained.
They rode out of the gate and let the horses trot down the road, each keeping silent. 'I should apologize, but I can't just blurt it out,' he thought as a small smile crossed his lips. "Race you to that tree yonder," Michael said as he nudged his horse and sped forward. Davin smiled and kicked at his horse which soon matched and then overtook the sorrel. He was chuckling as Michael rode up to the target of their ride.
"I won the race--what is my prize?" Davin asked in a jesting tone.
Michael dismounted unsteadily because of his ribs and almost fell when he felt two warm hands at his waist steadying him. He felt the quiet strength to him and his breath moving along his neck. "An apology, but that is already owed to you, Your Highness," he added as he turned to Davin.
"Please, call me Davin, Michael," he said, one hand still at Michael's waist.
"Very well, Davin. I regret that I thought badly of you the other day--Master Blaine told me all of it--I am indebted to you." Michael added as he looked up at Davin's face--he didn't think he could look at those eyes and talk coherently at the same time.
"I did no more than what I would do for anyone in a like situation," Davin said as his eyes grew lighter as he looked down at Michael. A warm look passed between them and Michael's heart felt as if it did a flip-flop as he grew aware of the hand on him.