*~*~*
Finding the Stable Master took a couple of hours, as the man was unsurprisingly quite busy and there was apparently a hunt occurring in the next few days for which the stables were preparing, but once Diggory found him, everything went quickly. He was escorted to Prince Adalwin's private stable after a hasty tour of those parts of the palace he would need, given an even briefer tour of the stables, quizzed ruthlessly all the while, and then left to his own devices.
He'd just finished brushing the bay Adalwin had been riding the day before when he heard footsteps coming toward him, the only person to visit Adalwin's private stable since the Stable Master had shown Diggory around that morning. Diggory looked up from where he was stowing the brush and immediately dipped into a bow. "Your highness."
"Good afternoon. The Stable Master seemed pleased with you and the horses look happy to have so much attention paid to them," Adalwin said with a smile. "How do you like it?"
"Finest stable I've ever seen, your highness," Diggory replied, meaning it—even his own was not as fine and he had hardly slouched on outfitting it. He had not been able to resist thoughts and ideas about where his own horses would go when they were eventually brought to his new home.
That reminded him abruptly of his wedding present for Adalwin. He hoped Benoit had kept most of his things and not simply thrown them out. That, however, was a problem for much later.
His current problem was gaining access to Benoit and his thugs to slit their traitorous throats. But he would not accomplish anything by shirking his duties on the first day; that would only draw attention he did not need—and however impatient he might be, his side was still healing. If he got into a tangle with Benoit or the others too soon, hitting his wound would cripple him enough they'd get an opportunity to do the job of murdering him correctly.
So he tamped down on his ever-growing impatience and distracted himself with the pleasure of admiring his affianced, who had turned to croon at and pet his bay. When his father had proposed the marriage to him, Diggory had been willing, but otherwise indifferent. He was always happy to do his duty, and if the marriage helped his family and his kingdom, then all to the good. He had heard good things of Prince Adalwin and of his love of horses; certainly his fate could have been much worse (Prince Handel, or Princess Gwendolyn, for example).
If nothing else, the change of environment and the opportunity for new things was worthwhile. Then the first letter had arrived and indifference had turned to curiosity. One letter led to another, until over the course of a few months they had managed quite a bit of correspondence between them. The letters never went beyond courtesies and friendly conversation, but curiosity had turned into anticipation. He had been certain they would become good friends, even comfortable lovers. He had not expected to be so … well … taken, he conceded. He was definitely taken with his fiancé.
Adalwin turned from the horse to smile at him, expression slightly puzzled. "Is all well?"
"Oh, yes, highness, my apologies. My previous master was enamored of his horses, but more as a matter of business. Not to insult him for that, because he was always worthy of praise and admiration, but it's always good to a see a master who cares for the horses simply because they are horses, if you'll forgive me speaking out of turn."
"You're not speaking out of turn," Adalwin replied, "though I confess you are remarkably bold and talkative for a servant. All to the good, though." He smiled again. "I do care for my horses, and my fiancé will be having his horses brought here shortly after we return from our wedding journey. We expect you to care for them just as much as we do, though I do not see a problem there." He started to say more, but the sound of the door creaking open drew their attention.
At the same time, Diggory's wound gave a sharp throb of pain. He slipped around the horse, out of sight, but where he could still just see. He tensed as he heard a familiar voice call out, "There you are, my dear."
Adalwin's expression tightened briefly before he smoothed it out and summoned a polite smile and turned to greet Benoit. "Here I am. Did you come all the way out here to find me? I did not think you'd be leaving the armory so soon; you need not have on my account. You were enjoying yourself."
"I enjoy myself most when in your presence," Benoit replied. Diggory rolled his eyes. "I came to see if we might speak before supper since we'll likely not have a moment otherwise until much later tonight. Benoit drew close and rested a hand on Adalwin's shoulder.
Shrugging it off and taking a small step back, Adalwin said, "If this is about the hunt, then I am not changing my mind. I do not care for hunting. You seemed to understand my reasons in our correspondence."
"Of course, of course," Benoit said smoothly, but Diggory knew him well enough to know the pinched looked to his mouth said Benoit had not considered that Diggory and Adalwin might have exchanged letters. Of course he hadn't, the arrogant fool. Diggory held them dear, had read them several times over the past few months. He still had them, bound with twine and tucked amongst his books and papers—and Benoit had probably thrown all of them out without even a glance, though Diggory still had hope he'd kept it all. If Benoit had stopped to think at all he would have read through the letters to better his impersonation.
An impersonation at which he was already failing miserably because Diggory did respect Adalwin's reasons for avoiding the hunt: he was not a man inclined toward violent sport, had hated it ever since he'd been a boy and been part of a hunt that had gone horrifically wrong. He was not much for fencing or boxing, either.
He wondered if Benoit realized that Adalwin was still well within his bounds to call the entire engagement off. Well, let the fool ruin his own chances. It would be easier to kill him, and then Diggory could repair all damages.
Though it made him wonder just how far Benoit was planning to go to ensure his impersonation succeeded. Eventually Diggory's father and brothers would want to see him again, and they knew Benoit. Well, one problem at a time. He could not save his family while he was still struggling to save himself.
Benoit and Adalwin continued to argue until Adalwin snapped at him to leave and Benoit stormed off. Adalwin sighed softly and turned back to the horse, resting his forehead against its side. Stepping around the horse, Diggory asked quietly, "Begging pardon for my impertinence, highness, but are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Diggory, thank you," Adalwin said quietly. "Nothing for you to trouble yourself over. I think I'll go for a ride later, though. Have this horse ready for about … half past eight, I think, yes."
"Of course, highness. Your wish is my command. Will you require company? Night rides are not wise for anyone to do alone."
Adalwin hesitated, then shrugged. "We shall see." He nodded in farewell and departed.
Diggory watched him go and sighed softly as the door closed behind him. He led the bay back into its freshly cleaned stall and got him settled. "Take care of him tonight," he told the horse. "Don't let him come to harm out there."
The horse snorted at him, as if insulted he had to be told such a thing. Diggory smiled and went to start cleaning out the empty stalls to make them ready for his own horses.
Dusk was falling when he finally finished for the day. He cleaned up at the pump behind the stable, then pulled on fresh clothes in the room at the far end of the stables that had been allotted to him. Shivering, longing to again be a spoiled prince who could command hot baths whenever he so desired, he headed for the back yard and slipped into the kitchens to find food.
A harried looking woman who smelled like roasted lamb and rosemary, face red from working close to the fire, thrust a plate of food at him and with a look and pointed finger, ordered him to get out of the way. Prince or not, he knew when not to argue with a woman. Tucking himself into a corner, he settled on a barrel and began to wolf down his meal, which was fresh bread and scraps of the afternoon meal that had been served to the castle nobility.
He looked up at the sounds of arguing—and quickly ducked his head a
gain, tugging down the brim of his cap before Elci saw him. As Elci continued to snipe at the cooks about something done wrong with his meal, Diggory finished his food in several quick bites, wiping his fingers clean on a rag he had brought for that very purpose. He looked up through his lashes, watching as Elci finally grew so disgusted he finally stormed off, calling the women nasty names in a language they wouldn't know because he was a coward. Diggory slipped from his barrel and went after him, pleased when Elci did not go back into the main part of the palace, but instead wound up in a walled garden area.
Elci sat down on a marble bench and pulled out one of the long, thin black cigarettes he favored, muttering in his native tongue as he light it with a match. The smell of cloves and cured smoke-leaf overwhelmed the delicate scents of the garden, the end of the cigarette the only point of real light as the last bits of sunlight faded away.
Diggory slipped behind a cluster of tall, thick bushes. He pulled out the pocket watch he had purchased in town, a cheap, battered thing that was nothing like the thirty or so extravagant pieces he owned, though it served its purpose. He had a little over an hour before he had to be back to ready the horses for Adalwin's ride—two, because Diggory wasn't letting him go alone.
He was just starting to think he'd wasted his time following Elci when his patience finally paid off and he heard the distinct sound of Poris' limp, a holdover from damage done to his leg by a snakebite. "So how's it going?" Elci asked.
"Not well," Poris replied with a grunt. "Benoit is no prince, no matter how much he thinks he can manage it. He's arrogant enough, but spending time with royalty doesn't actually make him royalty. Still, he hasn't gotten arrested yet and no one has called off the wedding. If we can just struggle through the month and get the ring on his finger, there's not much that can be done at that point. The royal family back home will suffer their tragic accident and that will be that. Two kingdoms in the bag and maybe Benoit will finally simmer down."
Elci grunted. "I just want my fucking money."
"You'll get it after they’re married. Come on, it's a little funny, you have to admit. That bastard was so busy with his woods and his horses that even his own mother couldn't really pick him out of a crowd. He made it too easy to replace him—he practically deserves it, he made it so easy."
"I think it's stupid, but I don’t turn down good money."
Poris coughed for several seconds then said, "You won't get a single pence of it if you don't do your part. Have you got it yet?"
"I'm meeting a man tonight who should be able to get it for me. I could have had it sooner, but you know I can't risk asking around the palace for such things." He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the ground, snuffing it out with his boot heel. "You ask me, he should be able to get it up for a man like that without problem. I sure could. I could keep it up for Prince Adalwin all night long."
"You could keep it up for a dog. Shut up and do your job," Poris said, and Diggory heard him strike Elci.
Elci hit him back and Diggory could just barely see him stand up. "I'm leaving around midnight to meet him by that old church on the far edge of the city. I should be back a couple of hours after that, so make certain he's still awake if he wants to hear immediately how it went. Otherwise, I'll speak to him at breakfast."
"He'll want to know. It's going to be a problem if Prince Diggory can't fuck his new husband on their wedding night." He stood up and Diggory listened as his footsteps faded off. A few minutes later, grumbling under his breath, Elci followed him back into the palace. Diggory gave them a few minutes and then made his way back to the stable.
So Benoit had a bedroom problem. Diggory wasn't certain how that was useful to him, but any knowledge at all gave him an advantage. Hopefully he would be back from riding in time to go after Elci, though he was not certain yet if he would simply follow him, or kill him.
In the stable, he prepared the bay and a black mare that looked like she could use a good run. He was ready and waiting when Adalwin arrived, handsome in a black and gray riding outfit, but his face tight with worry he was clearly too tired to hide. "Good evening, your highness. Ready to ride?"
Adalwin looked up and stared for a moment, then shook himself. "Yes, quite ready." He stopped, then laughed. "Am I to enjoy your company, then?"
"It's not safe to go alone, highness."
"No, it's not," Adalwin conceded with a sigh. "Very well, then." He led the bay outside and then smoothly mounted. When they were both ready, he led the way from the palace and off into the woods with the ease of one who had done it a thousand times.
They rode in silence for at least an hour, slipping in and out of the trees as the path meandered through and around the woods. Clearly it was a path meant for pleasure, not function. High above, the moon was almost but not quite full, the stars sharp, shining points all around it.
When they finally stopped, it was in a small clearing that boasted only a trickling brook and a building that was, Diggory realized after a moment, an old hunting cabin. He suspected there had probably been a stable on the premises at one point too, but it was either gone or better hidden by the dark.
Adalwin motioned for him to leave the horses by the brook and then led the way into the cabin. He moved to the fireplace, but Diggory stopped him and got a fire going himself. While he did that, Adalwin lit a few lamps, and by the time the fire was lit the whole place was filled with a warm, orange-yellow light. Adalwin raked a hand through his fingers and sighed heavily. "May I ask you something, Diggory?"
"Anything, highness."
"Have you ever thought you knew someone, only to find you did not know them at all? That everything you thought you knew was a lie?"
Diggory's mouth twisted. "Aye, highness. I knew a man for many years, a man upon whom my father always relied. One day, that man and I made a journey to a neighboring … village to … deliver an important item and on the way there, the man tried to kill me and take the item we were transporting. He was nothing like the man my father and I always believed him to be, only a cowardly thief who had only been waiting for a chance to steal the that item."
"I see," Adalwin said quietly. "I am sorry, that is far more serious a betrayal. Perhaps I am merely a fool, to believe letters written to me by a stranger could hold any veracity. It has become clear that I am foolishly easy to court."
Anger poured through Diggory—at Benoit for his betrayal, for the way he was hurting Adalwin and making him doubt himself. Anger at himself for letting down his guard when he had felt there was something strange about the way Benoit and his men were acting. But anger would not help him, and so he forced himself to set it aside. "Highness, I've only known you a matter of hours, but you do not strike me as a fool—and I think by now I would know, for fools make themselves known very quickly. Perhaps there is more to the situation than you realize. Do not give up yet."
Adalwin smiled crookedly. "At times you seem a good deal more than someone who cares for horses, Diggory."
"You can learn a lot from horses—and from listening to the folks who go in and out of the stables," Diggory replied with a shrug. "If you believed in the letters written to you then continue to have faith in them and perhaps it will be rewarded in the end."
"Perhaps," Adalwin said, though he did not look terribly convinced. Diggory wanted suddenly to tug him close, hold him until it eased the lines of worry and doubt from his face, pull him to the, fire and urge him to relax, distract him with soft kisses.
It was a strange feeling; he was not inclined toward comforting others. Elci and Poris were hardly the only ones to say that he spent too much time with his horses and the woods. His few lovers had made it very clear how callous they found him once the fun was over.
Diggory turned to poke and prod at the fire, letting it take his sudden irritation. "You should come and warm yourself, highness. It would not do to take a chill."
Adalwin gave a soft snort. "I have endured far worse than a cool spring evening." He joined Diggory b
y the fire anyway, so close they were not quite touching as each fell into his own thoughts.
The distant cry of an animal that had clearly become dinner for a predator made them both jump. They shared a sheepish smile and Adalwin sighed. "I suppose we had best return. Thank you for coming with me, Diggory. I did not mean to foist so much upon you on your first day."
"I am here to serve you, highness. You do not bother me. Please be at ease around me."
"Let's go home," Adalwin said, but gripped his shoulder briefly before heading outside.
They said nothing more all the journey home or even back in the stable. Diggory again found himself wanting to pull Adalwin close and kiss him, hold him, whatever it took to ease the worries causing those fine shoulders to droop. Instead, he murmured goodnight and watched Adalwin walk away, then got a drink of water from the well before he raced off to wait where he could follow Elci.
The palace clock was just chiming midnight when Elci appeared at the gates, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he strode off toward the city. Diggory hung well back and then began to follow him, keeping to where Elci would not catch him even from the corner of his eye.
When they reached the old church, he crept around to the side and huddled beneath a window that had long since had all its glass knocked out. A few minutes later, another figure appeared and slipped into the church after Elci. Diggory shivered in the cold and listened while they argued over price and time until they finally came to an agreement that the 'potency potion' would be provided in six days, but at the cost of two extra silver.
Diggory sneered at that, at Elci's idiocy. Such a potion only cost pence—he'd heard the guards discuss such matters often enough, though he thankfully had never needed such a potion himself. No, he would have no trouble at all with being an amorous husband to Adalwin.
A few minutes later, the second man left. Diggory stood up and moved as soundlessly as possible back to the front of the church, keeping to the dark until Elci stepped by him. He waited only until they were well away from holy ground, then grabbed Elci from behind and snapped his neck.
He dragged the body off the street and dumped it into a rank-smelling alleyway before divesting it of all valuables and coin. He said a quiet prayer, hoping Elci lived more wisely in his next life, then slipped away and headed back to the palace.