Shadow War - Deborah Chester [5]
Inclining his head slightly to the prince, Sien strode out. The door closed behind him with an echoing thud.
Caelan and the prince faced each other in the small space. Tirhin laid the pouch casually on the table, but to Caelan its presence seemed to throb in the room. He could smell herbs in the compound, mixed with something tainted and unnameable. Swallowing his distaste, Caelan took another step back.
“If that is a potion for me, I won’t take it,” he said.
Tirhin’s mouth tightened for a moment; then he turned to gaze at the wall. “Sien is right,” he said. “You have grown full of your own importance. It is not good for a slave, even one as well favored as you, to forget his place.”
Fresh anger roared up inside Caelan. Now that they were alone, he knew he could speak freely to this man, who was master, yet almost friend. It had ever been so between them, although such moments of privacy were rare.
“I have never lost a combat in all the time I have worn your colors,” he said, his voice tight with hurt. “Why am I treated so today? Why do you doubt me? My loyalty, my strength are yours. When have I failed, that you should distrust me like this?”
Tirhin sighed and tipped back his head for a moment. “I knew you would take this wrong,” he muttered, half to himself. He glanced at Caelan. “Why must you always be so damned difficult?”
Caelan knotted his brows, too full of resentment to permit himself a reply.
“We came to help you, you damned, stiff-necked fool. Sien’s potion will give you extra strength.”
“I am strong enough.”
“Against a Madrun?” Tirhin’s voice rose with doubt.
Although he made sure nothing showed, something inside Caelan withered and died. To his people, killing for any reason was a horror. Caelan, stolen from his homeland and exiled from his people, had found himself forced to fight if he was to live. Moreover, he had found in himself an unexpected gift for battle. Put a sword in his hand and he became a different man, quick and complete. He was efficient, tireless, ruthless. And all the while he was triumphing in the ring, glorying in the acclaim, it seemed the spilled blood of all his many defeated opponents kept seeping into his very bones, into his heart, into his conscience.
Take him from the arena, take him from the cheers, take the sword from his hand, and he was a man uneasy with his own conscience, never settled one way or the other. His own pride in his fighting ability shamed him, yet why should he hate his skills? When the gods gave a man a certain talent, was he not to use it? Still, what trick of fate was it to grant him exceptional ability in killing others? He could find no peace, although he had formed a shell between himself and his own trampled morals. Only at night, when the nightmares came, did that shell break.
He told himself that to fight to protect one’s home, or loved ones, or life, was a different matter. To fight and kill simply to provide entertainment was a stain against mankind. His soul felt black and heavy with it. Yet he belonged to Tirhin, and Tirhin commanded him to serve in the arena. For Tirhin, a man he admired above all others, a man he longed to emulate, he was willing to do anything.
The prince was strong, courageous, and intelligent. Despite his high station, he found time to listen to the people who came to him for help. He was generous to the poor, kind to his slaves, fair to his soldiers. He had served his father loyally and patiently, at least up till now. In all respects, he was someone to admire. Had Caelan been free, he would have sought to be in this man’s employ, and he would have longed to be Tirhin’s friend.
Now, however, Caelan found himself witnessing a side of this man he had never seen before. A resentful, angry man, barely keeping his emotions in check. Tirhin had lost confidence in Caelan for no explainable reason, unless ... unless it was because the prince had lost confidence in someone else, his father perhaps, or even himself.
Whatever the reason, it hurt. Hurt terribly to know that Caelan had sacrificed his conscience