Chapter 12
The party rode off past the manor's fields and into the forest nearby. Emma and the royal guard rode behind Erik and Charles, giving them the space to talk among themselves. Emma and the Guardsman, Scott, went back and forth in pleasantries and all were in a wonderfully high spirits. The party stopped for a light lunch and while dismounting Emma slipped and twisted her ankle.
Guardsman Scott delicately removed Emma's boot and she softly hissed in pain. "Definitely not broken, but at least sprained. We need to go back to the palace to minimize any further damage. You'll need to ride back side straddling, and it'll take us quite some time to get home at a light pace; I suggest we head back immediately."
Charles says, "I... can't head into town." Charles piped up.
The three of them turned their heads and gave Charles a questioning look.
"I told the Marko's I'd stay at the villa and it'd be quite embarrassing for me to run into them. With you. I know Cain fancies you." It wasn't exactly a lie. In the back of Charles' mind he worried he was getting too good at spinning the truth.
Emma turned to the guard from where she was sitting on the ground. "Oh Scott, you wouldn't split them up, would you? Prince Erik has been looking for Deloncret for weeks! Surely Erik can handle one afternoon by himself in Deloncret's domain?"
Guardsman Scott looked exasperated. He glanced frantically between Emma's swelling ankle and Charles' sad smile. His eyes fell on Erik, and where he expected a stern look meant to strong arm him into complying with everyone's suggestion, he found a hopeful, earnest face that held no trace of the anger he usually saw Erik handle his guards with.
"If you are back later than sunset, the Queen will have me removed from my position. Please do not let me regret this favor, Your Grace."
"I would not dare. I am in your debt."
******
"Oh we're hardly lost! I know this area so once we find a road we can find our way back."
"So in layman's terms, you're a horrible navigator and I've made a grave mistake putting my life in your hands." Erik's voice rung with drama.
Charles hummed bemusedly as he spun in a circle, looking upward. "In layman's terms, this is the part where you realize how resourceful and self-sufficient I am," Charles began unfastening the buttons on his tunic- Cain's tunic, that he could not afford to rip or damage.
Erik froze with confusion and Charles rolled his eyes. "I'm not ruining a new tunic for a few moments of altitude." Charles shrugged off his tunic and tossed it at Erik, who snatched it out of the air.
Charles chose a tree that had plenty of thick and easily reachable branches and climbed until he could see the treeline around him. He could hear Erik taunting him not to fall, and faintly heard horses in the distance.
As he began his descent, he realized the sound of horses grew closer. Charles filled with dread at unexpected company and scrambled down the tree to see Erik surrounded by Roma.
A slender woman in a scarlet shawl held his (Cain's) tunic and was pointing a sword at Erik. She catches sight of Charles, shirtless, and smiles tauntingly. "Ah, so this was yours I assume? Good sir, my brother thanks you for this fine garment."
Charles slowed his descent from the tree, looking around to count how outnumbered they were. Not that it mattered, as Charles knew how to scrap one on one and Erik probably only knew how to fence for sport. And was without a blade. Charles decided he would have to bluff.
"Your insolence is baffling, truly. I /expect/ you to return my tunic, my companion, and as you've startled away our horses I demand a horse as well."
She laughed. "On whose authority? Your prince is our prisoner."
"I don't appeal to any authority or sense of law; it's only in your best interest. You can't all be prepared to risk your life over a ransom you'll have to split 12 ways."
A chorus of laughter emitted from the band of Roma surrounding them.
"My lord, your will is irrefusable. You may have anything you can carry," the woman in red bowed mockingly.
Charles thought carefully. "And I have your word on that?"
She nodded, amused.
Charles slowly walked past a few men encircling Erik and looked in his eyes before holding out his hand. Erik took it slowly and Charles bent down and pulled the prince across his shoulders by the hand.
The crowd around him erupted into laughter as Charles lifted with his legs and began to take wobbly steps out of the circle of Roma around them.
"Monsieur please," The woman in red chortled, holding her side. Charles took a step to the side to turn towards her to give a short curtsy with his head bowed, his hair beginning to stick to his forehead with sweat and his face flushed.
The band of Roma had long broken their fighting stances and could not have been in a better mood. "Oh come back! I'll give you a horse!"
*******
The woman with the red shawl introduced herself as Wanda, and insisted they come back to camp for food and drink. Erik was wary but Charles had agreed immediately.
It took Erik some time to relax but eventually he found himself sitting in a circle with Chalres, Wanda, and her brother as they all enjoyed a cup of wine. Erik did not ask where they'd gotten the barrel, but it tasted quite like the wine the palace kept in their cellars.
"So how do you two know each other?" Pierto plopped down next to Charles by the fire.
"I was on an errand in the palace courtyard when the Prince was nearby, he helped me keep a servant from being shipped off to the colonies."
"I've been chasing him down ever since, no one at court will simply discuss literature with me."
"What's the last thing you read?" Charles said, turning his body towards Pierto and Wanda.
"The Divine Comedy... It was mediocre at best."
"How could you not love it?! It's a masterpiece!" Erik gasped.
"It's so monotonous in writing style. And so pious." Pierto groaned
"I didn't find it that rhythmic at all," Charles mused.
"It is in Italian." Wanda replied.
"You can read Italian?" Erik asked, impressed.
"We can /only/ read in Italian," Wanda laughed.
"Oh. Well I'll concede to your first point Pierto, but it's a religiously inspired work, and an incredibly vivid and detailed view of the justices of hell."
"Justices? You think there are really no bigger sinners in eternity than Cassius and Brutus?" Wanda asked.
"How could there be? They betrayed their emperor, country, and their friend in what they did and caused political unrest for decades. Centuries if you consider that their actions, indirectly, caused the collapse of Rome and the subsequent Dark Ages."
"But they had no idea all of that would follow; they thought they were saving Rome from a tyrant! And furthermore to say that betrayal of the state is the worst sin one can commit is incredibly authoritarian." Charles commented.
Pierto laughed. “Would you expect him not to be?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Then beg,” Pierto quipped. Erik riled up with anger but Wanda cut him off.
“You are not our sovereign here, Prince. Our people have roamed this land for centuries but none of your countries grant us citizenship, nor let us own land on occasion that we try; They call us heathens, and heretics for not worshipping your god; Your people do not respect us or our ways. So, forgive us if you do not have our respect- you’ll have to earn it.” Wanda punctuated her last words by leaning back against the rocks behind her and taking a long sip of wine, her eyebrows raised at Erik.
Erik silently pondered her words for a moment. “Alright then. Who would you name the other two biggest sinners of eternity then?"
"Presumptions to say I'd name Judas." Pierto laughed.
"Pharaoh Ahmose," Charles offered. "He subjected his people to famine, pestilence, death, and God's wrath out of Pride and Greed in refusing to free the Jews.
"Oh, I like that one."
"Gilles de Rais***," Erik said slowly. "He murdered something around 200 children and adolescents, for fun. He tortured them horrifically."
“But a safe one,” Erik admits. “What judge would not condemn unnecessary suffering of the innocent?”
“The Greeks had a few,” Charles points out.
“I think the Nords do as well.” Pierto adds.
“And I think being subjects of a Pharaoh who would not release his slaves hardly warrants famine, pestilence, and the loss of your firstborn son.” Wanda smiles devilishly, knowing she’d gone too far.
Erik exploded into a rant about how God offered every soul a chance for conversion in life, and the Egyptians after seeing all of Moses’s plauges could have also slaughtered a lamb and put up it’s blood. Charles made a point that the Egyptians condoned and benefited from the enslavement of the Isrealites. Pierto pointed out the English and Spanish were taking slaves in Africa and the New World, and was Charles implying that the heads of half of Europe going to hell?
“The half not in present company, sure.” Charles was bold in the wine he’d had, and with the flow of conversation being so unfiltered by pretense.
“I’d love to hear you say that at court.” Erik laughed. “Of course, I’d have to get you to court first. So you think the French are exempt?"
"Oh I didn't say that. You are not yet in power, but when you are, will you let the injustices you inherit remain in place? What would have happened to Logan if I hadn't come for him, the day we met? He would've been shipped off to the colonies. We may call it indentured servitude, serfdom, whichever word fancies us, but any man who is not at the helm of his own fate is just a slave with altered terms."
"That servant... Wasn't your servant was it? It was Marko's?"
Charles' face went red, but after a moment he decided to just shrug it off.
"You are one of the most intriguing people I have ever met."
"You should meet more people,"
"I mean it, truly. You're witty, intelligent, and your humility is incredibly pure and isn't the least bit self deprecating. You are truly in control of your life."
Charles laughed, "I'm not one for pity, no."
"What about affection?" Erik asked, looking into his eyes.
Charles said nothing so Erik reached to put a hand on Charles' cheek. Charles’ eyes fluttered down to look at Erik’s lips, stained lightly with wine. Chalres’ breathing is quickened, his eyes almost hungry when he looks back into Erik’s.
Erik slides his hand from Charles’ cheek into his hair and leans in to Charles.
Charles closes the distance and his eyes close as their lips meet. Erik kisses him tenderly, then pulls Charles towards him even more with the hand in his hair.
Charles feels emotion swell in his chest and he reaches out and takes a fistful of Erik’s shirt, His tongue slips into Erik’s mouth.
“Ayy!” Wanda and Peirto’s jeering at them snap Erik and Charles back to reality. Charles wipes his mouth, still reeling, and Erik is blushing with embarrassment.
They all laugh lightly about it, and Erik and Charles rejoin the conversation with the rest of the Roma. Erik takes Charles’ hand in his and lightly strokes his thumb over Charles’ for the remainder of the evening.