Even if using a sword was something I struggled to learn, wrestling an oversized lion was something I could do with ease. I might not always win, but I knew what I was doing. The stance was different from sword fighting, lower with greater emphasis on being prepared to go to the ground. In a sword fight, the ground meant defeat, but in wrestling, it was the beginning of the fun.
I took a slow stance, knees bent and feet spread wide, ready to grapple with the lion that appeared before me. Andrian roared and pounced at me. We were on the ground almost immediately, Andrian trying to leverage his superior strength, while I tried to keep the advantage using my smaller size and dexterity.
It went on for quite a while and I had to struggle to not shout or grunt as we fought. I hit the ground hard a couple of times but I got my fair share of blows in. Eventually I started to get tired and staying silent required too much of my attention. In a moment of distraction, Andrian flipped me over and I found myself prone and pinned by the shoulders.
As Andrian was roaring his victory, a voice interrupted, “Just when I thought I’d seen everything, I come across a lion mounting its whore on the practice field.”
My blood ran cold at the sound of that voice. It belonged to Tarlon, my father’s knight.
“Well, come on. Get on with it. Everyone’s waiting for the animal show,” Albrecht’s voice rang out, sending a chill down my spine.
“We’ve already told you that you're not welcome here,” an unfamiliar voice, probably one of the Palace knights, informed them in an icy cold tone.
I heard Andrian start growling, low and menacing. He released me so I could roll over, and I got up on all fours, keeping my eyes fixed on the dirt in front of me. No, no, no. Not this. Not them.
“We heard our old friend was here and wanted to say hello, is all,” Albrecht continued, unperturbed by the hostile reception. “It’s been a long time, Julien. Did you miss me? I missed you.”
Just the sound of my name on his lips made me feel sick. I started shaking, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. I could face my father without faltering, but I still couldn’t face the man who haunted my nightmares.
“Then you've done what you came here to do. Now leave,” Marquis Heinrich commanded, and they had no choice but to obey the order of the northern Duke's heir.
I felt instantly ashamed that I wasn’t brave enough to face them. In front of all these witnesses, I hadn’t even had the courage to lift my head. Men that I should have been able to command with the same ease as Marquis Heinrich had reduced me to this pathetic, weak creature on the ground. My only consolation was that most of the people present thought I was mute, so they wouldn't expect me to say anything. It was an easy excuse to hide behind. At that moment, I doubt I could have spoken if I tried.
“Our thanks, Marquis Heinrich,” the cold voice from earlier said with much less iciness. “They caused a lot of problems on the first day they were here. Some of the Palace knights are still out of commission because of them. We told them not to come back, but as you can see, they keep returning. No one here has the rank to actually force them to leave.”
As the knight spoke, Andrian shifted back and helped me to my feet. I wiped the tears I hadn’t even realized I was crying from my cheeks and hung my head in silence.
“Marquis Julien,” Evan said to me after a moment, “I know it’s not my place but… are you alright?”
“He is obviously not alright,” the cold voiced one responded, "but that encounter did tell me everything I needed to know about the situation. I believe I owe you an apology, my Lord.”
I looked up at that comment, my shame overwhelmed by curiosity. The one with the cold voice was an older knight, with hair that might have been silver from age, rather than birth. He had clear blue eyes that looked as cold as his voice, yet somehow, he didn’t look unkind. I had no idea why he would owe me an apology.
“You’re a son of the house of Ramport,” he said, as if that was answer enough. Seeing that I didn't quite follow, he explained, “I judged you before meeting you based on my experience with your father’s men. At first, I had wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt so I agreed to let them train with us. That was a grave mistake on my part. They didn’t want to train, they wanted to hurt people. One of my knights had both of his kneecaps smashed by the one called Albrecht, and that Tarlon fellow conveniently forgot to use his practice blade and practically gutted someone. The other three ganged up on one man and beat him so badly that he might never wake. His wife is pregnant and might have to raise the child without him. Forgive me, Marquis, but given that you are your father's son, I expected you to be no better.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
“Well, isn’t this a nice change of pace,” Rastari commented, “I'm terribly sorry to hear about your comrades, of course. If I get the chance, I will gladly avenge their pain for you. But it's usually us beastmen who get told we're not welcome.”
“His Highness has assured us that you won't cause any trouble,” the man responded, “and I trust his judgement in all things. All that matters to us is the safety of the people housed within the Golden Palace. If you’re not a threat to that, then we don’t have a problem.”
“I like your attitude, old man,” Rastari laughed, “think you can teach the rest of your people to think the same way?”
“Name’s Gentry, not old man,” the knight responded, “or should I just refer to you as ‘beastman’?”
“Nah, if you get a name, I get one too. I’m Rastari. This is Andrian, Coraggio, and Vargas,” Rastari informed him, extending his hand in greeting. “You already know my little human friend here, and I can vouch that he’s nothing like those assholes who work for his dad.”
The knight shook his hand and said, “To think I’d see the day where I prefer the company of you beastmen to that of my own kind, but those Ramport knights are terrible. You’re also not at all what I expected, General Rastari. Neither are you, Marquis.”
I afforded him a small smile, which was the best I could do under the circumstances. I was still shaking and clinging to Andrian to stay on my feet.
“We got to know each other when I attended their joining ceremony in the Beastlands. He’s a good lad, despite his father's best efforts,” Marquis Heinrich said, patting me on the back a little too firmly. Quietly enough that the other knights couldn’t hear him, he added, “You did well. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you were braver than you think.”
Ah, that was right. I’d forgotten that Marquis Heinrich already knew the truth. Dealing with his parents had made me forget that there was one member of the northern ducal house that was on our side.
Where I appreciated what he was trying to tell me, nothing about what happened had made me feel brave. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at them. Now that it was over, I felt the beginnings of panic rising in my chest. I was still so afraid of them. Especially him. No matter how far I’d come, Albrecht still had power over me.
“We’re taking him back to his room now,” Vargas announced, stepping in between me and the Marquis. “Thanks for not being assholes, Palace knight guys. Good to see ya, Heinrich.”
Vargas tugged on my arm and I let him pull me along. Andrian followed right behind us, holding onto my waist as we walked. They both knew me well enough to know that I definitely wasn’t alright.
I held myself together quite well as they hastily led me back to the room, but as soon as I was behind closed doors, my calm facade fell to pieces. I started crying and once I started, I couldn’t seem to stop. I felt like I’d reverted back to the broken shell I was before. The fear, the loneliness, and the shame all felt so real again, but now I had no place to escape to. The place I used to go to when I felt like this was gone. There was no escape from the spiral of pain.
I don’t know how long it lasted. The fits of crying blurred together with the moments when I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I screamed myself hoarse and pulled at my hair. More than once, someone had to hold me down to stop me from punching my fist into the wall. I was vaguely aware of the pain in my knuckles from my attempts, but it paled in comparison to everything else I felt.
Eventually, I ran out of steam. My sobs began to subside and my body trembled from the strain of all those emotions. My eyes were so swollen from crying that I could barely see the blurry figures of Andrian and Vargas, who had both stayed with me through all of it. They made me drink some water and Andrian lay down on the bed with me. I heard the sound of a door closing and realized that Vargas had left. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him.
Even though it was Andrian, the feelings Albrecht inspired left me with no desire to be touched. However, I also didn’t want him to leave me.
“Lion,” I whispered quietly, my throat raw from the screaming, "please."
Andrian didn’t question my request and immediately shifted into his lion form. I cuddled up to him and ran my fingers through his mane. This was much better. His furry body, with nothing human about it, was exactly the kind of comfort I needed.
For the rest of the day, we lay on the bed in silence. The sun crossed the sky and eventually descended below the horizon as I stared at the ceiling and held tight to the lion in my arms. At some point, long after the sun had set and darkness had descended, I fell into a troubled and fitful sleep.