A Bird in the Hand

[Andros]

Ajax had a gorgeous view as he fed the horses and went back to the fire to stir dinner. It had distracted him as he butchered the two quails he’d caught and potted them for stew. Less than a hundred yards beyond their campsite the forest ended in sheer cliff. Below it lay a deep gorge carved by the river that divided Radenor from Daravin, crossed here by a narrow bridge. Seeing the sun rise over the cliffs on the Daravin side would be even more stunning. Perhaps travelers across the gorge were enjoying the sunset over Radenor at that very moment

Near the bridge on the Radenor side was a small town that surely would have provided hospitality, but Hakon wanted to avoid company and attention. It was just as well. Ajax was enjoying the time alone with Hakon and, oddly, didn’t feel any desire to add to their duet. The ride had indeed been hard. Often it had been too difficult for conversation, as the men had to concentrate on their horses and ride single-file up and down mountain switchbacks. But the silence was companionable, and the nights were excellent.

Ajax would work on his song by the fire. Hakon would read his military manual and practice with his weapons. Ajax would try to make Hakon laugh or to entertain him with music and greedily ate up his laughter and appreciation. Then they would go to their tent and keep one another warm. Ajax hadn’t had such a nice time in ages. He slept like the dead every night, held tight in Hakon’s arms.

When the soup was cooked, Ajax cut up the last stale pieces of the bread they’d bought in town and tossed them in as croutons. He fetched Hakon, who had been lounging in a patch of fading sun and looking across the gorge in a brooding way. Ajax took him by the hand and sat him down by the fire to eat and talk.

“Practice with me again, Hakon, one more time. I’ll be the merchant, you be the lead rogue. I want to get this right tomorrow.”

[Hakon]

The ride for Iberique should have been agonizing. Hakon had agreed to betray an oath he'd sworn when he was a child, freshly inducted into the Guild. He was betraying everyone in the Tower, all of the four kingdoms of Radenor, all for the sake of the man who rode beside him. He should have felt like the worst sort of person. As an oath breaker, he was the worst sort of person.

Except he didn't feel that way at all.

The last three days with Ajax were not tense or harrowing or miserable in the least. They were idyllic. By day, they rode hard and kept to the path. When they camped, Ajax cooked for him, sang for him, made him laugh, and shared his bedroll. They were each other's sole company, and Hakon wondered if Ajax pined for a bigger audience, but if he did, he didn't let on at all. He seemed content to to stay with Hakon, and Hakon in turn didn't want their excursion to Iberique to ever end.

It would, though, and for the last day he'd been preparing Ajax with a good plan of what they were going to do. Right over the border from Daravin, there were a trio of thieves, all three of whom were mages. Alvaro and Albedo, twin brothers, and Fiona, the lover of either Alvaro or Albedo. Or both, in some accounts. That last sounded rather messy to Hakon, but Ajax had snickered and said he was proud of her if the rumors were true, so it was possible it was more fun than it seemed. They were each rather formidable in their respective disciplines. Alvaro and Albedo were skilled in Nightfall and Bane, while Fiona was a Remnomancer. Remnant, in particular, bothered Hakon, because its potential was limited only by the imagination of the practitioner. A creative Remnomancer could be a powerful foe, especially if she were also combat trained in some way.

This was why Hakon's plan was to avoid all of that. During his last mandated visit to the tower, he'd been able to procure, with Lady Byqvist's blessing, some varithium powder. He and Ajax would use it to make a crude trap, a meeting room that doubled as an anti-magic box. They'd meet their would-be client for a job, Ajax posing as a merchant trying to rid himself of a rival via financial ruin, they'd go over the details, and their magic would be sealed away. Then they'd learn the dangers of squaring off with someone bigger, stronger, and more proficient with weapons than they were.

Unfortunately for them, it would not be a lesson that they could carry forward into a longer and more productive life.

Hakon stood up from where he'd been lounging and pulled Ajax in for a one-armed hug. He'd been doing that a lot, these last few days. The first few times, he hadn't even intended to do it; his body had just moved of its own volition. Now, he was doing it more and more. At least in the privacy of the wilderness, Ajax didn't seem to mind.

"Happily," Hakon replied to Ajax's entreaty.

He followed him back to the fire. As he ate his portion of the soup -- it was excellent, like many of the things Ajax cooked -- he imagined Albedo, who was supposedly the leader of the trio. He imagined his sallow complexion, his waxed little mustache that Hakon wanted to rip from his face, his strong Amorenian accent, his Common heavily accented by Gentavarese.

"It is so good to make your acquaintance, monsieur, after our correspondence," Hakon said. Albedo was supposedly almost sycophantically polite. It was one of the ways you could differentiate him from Alvaro, who was brusque and rude. "Now then, you wish to walk me through the details of your job? I am not so sure why this is necessary, if I am being honest -- my brother and our associate, we are professionals -- but if we must prove this to you for this meeting, this is well and fine. Provided, of course, that this meeting ends in us getting a payment for our work to come, yes?" He gave a greasy smile.

"Otherwise, ah, the four of us may encounter some small issues."

[Andros]

If you’d asked Ajax two days ago what the most surprising thing about the trek to Iberique had been, he’d have said the affection. It had always been a chore for him, something to be endured if it would lead somewhere better. With Hakon, he found he had an appetite for everything the big mage could dish out and then some. Hugs, hand-holding, an arm around the shoulder, all of it was warmly welcome, and Ajax sometimes plopped himself down in Hakon’s lap just cause. He worried he came off as clingy, which was certainly never a problem for him before. If he’d ever seemed clingy with a man up to this point, it was for show. Just an act.

The acting was, in fact, the biggest surprise. Not his own, but Hakon’s. The big man had insisted he couldn’t do it when Ajax suggested they role-play his meeting with the rogues. He hemmed and hawed, then brought out fully formed impressions of all three of them with distinct voices, personalities, and facial expressions. If they’d had a dress and make-up, he’d surely have tried his best at a realistic Fiona.


The plan was solid. Hakon had had the germ of it and they’d worked it out together. Hakon knew Daravin, magic, and these specific rogues, Ajax knew how to lie effectively. He would pose as Horik, a Northradican merchant. He hadn’t shaved in several days and a short beard was helping him look a bit older and more prosperous. He’d been working on saying his r’s in the throat instead of trilling them, removing the last trace of his native accent. Passing for a local to this part of Atharen would make things simpler. Ajax would hire the three rogues to put his rival out of business with the promise of a big payout.

Ajax lowered his voice and tried to picture Horik as the rogues would see him. Shrewd, devious, and unprincipled; a sneaky shit who would stab his enemies in the back and might need to be shaken down for payment after the fact. Horik was, more or less, the man Hakon had thought Ajax to be when he barged into the wine shop. He kept that observation to himself.

“I know we’ve gone over it, Albedo, but I need to get every detail through your thick skull if this is going to go right. It’s a delicate operation.” The condescension didn’t come naturally to Ajax, unlike the sneaking, but if he were a merchant getting his hands dirty by hiring thugs that’s how he’d need to sound. Horik was too good for this.

“So, we go to the spot I told you about. It’s a chapel to the Returning King that no one’s used in a hundred years. Creepy, if you ask me. That dumb bastard Alfred will be there, thinking he’s going to meet his mistress. I sent him a whole fake letter from her, signed in lipstick and everything. All you have to do is get him to sign the contract I’ll bring. Do what you have to. Scare him, hurt him, I don’t care. Then you, Fiona, you need to make sure he leaves thinking he’s made the deal of a lifetime and not realizing he’s just sold me his whole stock for a song until it’s too late.”

He laughed, derisively. “You’re the only one I really need. Your little boyfriends could be replaced by any ex-soldiers off the street for half the price, but for you I’m willing to pay.” He raised a hand to forestall any objection. “And you’ll be paid promptly. In full. As soon as I have my contract.”

Ajax let the character fade away and picked up his bowl. The stew was getting cold.

“How was that, Hakon? Did I sell it better this time?”

[Hakon]

Albedo listened to Horik. Did he think Horik was on the level? He did. He wanted the payout, and Horik looked expensive enough to provide it. He was annoyed by how overbearing Horik was, but that just showed he was a control freak. Many of his clients were meddlesome and liked to insert their nose where it didn't belong; that was part of why they were his clients. Also, he'd been smart enough not to bring the money to their first meeting which was annoying but meant that maybe he'd done this before, which meant maybe more jobs could be available in the future if they did well and helped Horik move up in the world.

Albedo nodded Hakon's head.

"You are improving," Hakon said as himself. "Remember that even if these guys scare or threaten you, they get nothing from you if they kill you. You're safe unless your cover is blown, and I'll be near at hand if that happens. The varithium will neutralize their powers for as long as it's in their systems, but if I come into that room and start breathing it in, it will neutralize mine, too. So take extra care not to get too hurt, because I won't be able to heal you for a while after the battle if that happens."

He was looking forward to this job. It was one of his favorite tactics: trap a bunch of magic-dependent wastrels in a room and watch them realize that without their special powers, they were not in for a good time. He knew he was supposed to prefer fair fights, but that just meant a fifty fifty shot at being killed, which was not the outcome he was looking for. He was, he'd realized that morning, happy. He wanted to keep being happy like this, and if that meant these three murderers and thieves had to die, then so be it.

Ajax, even with the beard he had grown in, still looked perfectly boyish and sweet to Hakon. It was like the sunlight always hit him just right, like there was a nimbus around him that made Hakon feel like weirdly light and happy. He stroked a hand along the beard now, something he'd been doing a lot of since it had grown in.

"Do you think you're keeping it?" He asked, for once not interested in going over the plan until his partner rolled their eyes at him for being exacting.

[Andros]

Ajax shivered when Hakon touched his cheek, though it wasn’t cold so close to the fire. Hakon was doing that every time he got close, and it never got old. The beard and the scar. He couldn’t keep his hands off. Ajax smirked at the question.


“I think you like it. I can keep if you want. It’s a bit dashing, isn’t it?.” He reached out and stroked Hakon’s face, now just a bit stubbly since he hadn’t been shaved these past few days.


“Not you though. You’re not allowed.” He clicked his teeth at himself and laughed. “I’ve been neglecting my duty. Have to keep my knight looking his sharpest. A shave as soon as possible for you.”


At that moment, Ajax’s dad jumped into his head. He had a habit of doing that all the time since Ajax had heard that letter. Now Ajax wondered if Fell had grown a beard. He’s always been clean shaven at home, and he plucked any gray hairs he found. Would he be bearded and gray? Wouid he look old? Would he dress in a robe and sandals? Probably not. He’d be in whatever was fashionable in Daravin? Would Fell even recognize his grown-up eldest son?

Ajax had refrained from telling Hakon how much Fell was on his mind. They were having too much fun, and he was afraid he’d spoil it with a sore subject. They could talk about what was needed after this next fight. For now, best to keep quiet. He ejected Fell from his thoughts and crawled into Hakon’s lap.

“Tell me more about Daravin. Everything Pappa says is hostile, but he can get crotchety when he takes a dislike to a place or a people. What’s it really like? What can I expect the people will be like?”

He turned to wink at Hakon.

“You can be Anton while you do it? I know you keep telling me he doesn’t like boys but maybe he’ll make an exception for me.”

[Hakon]

Hakon colored as he recalled his attempt at using Anton to seduce Ajax when he had been so inebriated he could hardly stand. He'd had the vague notion that Ajax might prefer someone fancier, so he thought Anton might have a better chance. Anton, though, did not like boys, or really anyone. In retrospect, he hadn't been sure what he'd been thinking, or if he'd been thinking at all; perhaps the alcohol had moved him to do something ill-advised.

He briefly thought to ask Anton what he thought of Daravin and give Ajax an answer, but then thought better of it. Anton's opinion here was neither helpful nor warranted. Instead, he answered as himself.

"Daravin is a grim place, lad," Hakon said. "Those who have magic are allowed to and encouraged to subjugate those who do not. There are laws and rules, of course, but they are frequently bent or broken by the rich, the titled, the well-connected, and the magically gifted. Much of the populace are either enslaved or all-but-enslaved -- they have serfs, there." He looked at Ajax's face to see if he understood, before going on, "they are sharecrop farmers who are permanently indebted to whoever owns the land. They are subject to the laws of the person who owns the land and they are not allowed to move or to leave without the landowner's permission. It's separate from slavery because they are not owned by a person, but to me, I don't see much of a difference. They're just owned by the land which is owned by a person, so it seems to me like slavery with a bit of rhetorical trickery to it."

"The towns and cities have more freedmen, and I'm told there are many opportunities there for the smart, the shrewd, and the ambitious. To me, I"m not sure how much truth there is to that, because as many opportunities as there supposedly are to gain riches or amass power there are opportunities to lose everything you've achieved and then some in the blink of an eye. The politics, laws, and alliances in Daravin are ever-shifting, and change is the only constant. If they didn't have such a strong instinct to unite when they were faced with actual external threat, they would have been wiped from the face of the continent decades ago. Centuries ago, perhaps."

"I'm sure you think I dislike Daravin because of how cavalier they are about magic, and I will not deny that is part of it, but it's more than that. The way they treat their downtrodden is nothing short of barbaric. They are animals."

[Andros]

Hakon's description of Daravin lined up well with Andros', though his telling was always more colorful and laden with biting sarcasm. The old man was more focused on the supposed Daravain propensity for crime. From the criminal mind, he maintained, flowed ugly faces, a degraded language, drug abuse, filthy music, hideous clothing, poor hygiene and so on. With no sense of self-awareness, Andros even liked to go on about illiteracy of the common people. Hakon’s take was more measured, highlighting actual social conditions, but still quite hostile.


Ajax knew there was more to it. Daravin had an ancient culture, a beautiful language, and developed traditions of music and literature. There was a reason everyone who was anyone in Radenor learned Gentaverese. But for Andros, none of that mattered compared to the dirty Daravain swine who’d robbed and attacked him on two separate occasions. And for Hakon, only the lax attitude towards magic and the injustices that caused were worth commenting on. Fair enough.


“I can see why you hate it there, even if Anton must love it.” Ajax replied. “You know I think they’re too hard on mages in Radenor.” He put up a hand to forestall argument. “Let me finish, I mean they’re too hard on decent, upright mages like you. You don’t need to be locked up or surveilled, especially not considering the sacrifices you make for the Four Kingdoms. But if Daravin is the alternative, I’ll take the Radenor way.”


The place made sense as Fell’s hideout. Dangerous, yes, but he could be his magical self without fear and stay relatively close to his family in Oxentide. It was fitting that he’d chosen for his place of exile somewhere both Andros and Hakon viscerally hated. Everything about Fell seemed like it was designed to needle the other two men Ajax cared most about. That, more than anything Hakon had said, set Ajax on edge. If Daravin was such a hell-hole, why was Fell comfortable there? And if it wasn’t, why were Andros and Hakon so wrong about it?


A change of subject was in order, and Ajax had the tools at his disposal to make it happen. He finished the last spoonful of his dinner, stood up, and sat himself down in Hakon’s lap.

“Fortunately, even if it’s dangerous I’ll have my bodyguard there to watch out for me.” He kissed Hakon on the cheek. “It’s getting cold. Let's warm up in the tent before I finish my chores.”

[Andros]

Dr. Who theme plays, time jumps to the next morning

Ajax never did manage to finish his chores. Instead he awoke before dawn, sore but very happy, and went about his work while Hakon slept. There were horses to be brushed and saddled, belongings to be packed, breakfast to cook, weapons to clean, and boots to polish. It took a good hour and the sun was about to peek over the cliffs on the Daravin side of the gorge when he finally woke Hakon up, getting down on the ground inside their little tent and shaking him gently.

“Come watch the sunrise with me. Everything’s ready but the tent and the bedrolls so we can head out as soon as it’s light enough. I heated up the leftovers so we’ve got food.”


He took Hakon to the edge of the gorge, sitting down with their legs dangling over to eat and enjoy a few last moments of peace before they picked up stakes and sallied forth into battle. It was pleasant, but fear kept pricking at him, like a pesky mosquito that wouldn’t stop buzzing around his ears. He might die that day, realistically speaking. The rogues could see through his story and simply end his life before Hakon could intervene. Hakon could die too. The odds weren’t great, three against one. Or one-and-a-half, counting himself if he were being generous. He just had to accept the risk.

There was some excitement too. Ajax wouldn’t confess to it, but it was satisfying to have such a major role to play in this operation. It was a vote of confidence. Hakon thought he was trustworthy and capable, and that meant a lot. He wasn’t looking forward to actually using violence, but he felt sure he could do it if he had to. The fights with Hildegard and the pyromancer proved that.

Ajax shivered slightly. He’d have said it was the morning chill, but really it was his nerves. Moving closer to his lover and taking his hand helped put both the fear and the cold at bay.

“I’m scared, Hakon,” he confessed flatly. He’d been honest about that before and saw no reason to dissemble. “But I’m ready. I’ll remember my training and everything you taught me. We’re going to kick ass today.”

[Hakon]

Hakon was disused to being up second, but traveling with Ajax was surprisingly tiring. Or at least, that's what he told himself as to the reason why he was waking up later. He was staying up longer but sleeping no later than he would if he were by himself. Even so, he found himself waking up refreshed.

It was, he was realizing, really nice to have someone around who did things like make breakfast and tend camp and patch his tunics.

After they'd exchanged good mornings and Hakon was dressed for the day, he noticed that Ajax seemed uncomfortable. He was about to suggest that the lad borrow a coat or something to ward off the morning chill when the real reason was revealed. Hakon didn't immediately reply, finishing up his stew and sopping it up with a crust of bread as he thought about what to say.

"You are right to be frightened," Hakon said finally. "We are heading in to a battle, and anything could happen, in theory. They could kill you because they sense you're a rat, or because they think you're stupid enough to bring their payment with you, or just for fun. It is okay to be scared, though. Horik would be scared to meet with criminals like these, though he would try to hide it, so they will not think there is anything amiss just because AJax is scared, too."

"I will do all I can to keep you safe, even if the plan goes awry," he added. "I swore to keep you from harm, and I hope that I have demonstrated how seriously I take such promises. You have been an able help to me on our last two jobs, and I'm sure you will be no less able on this one. There are three of them, but if the plan goes as it should they will be three ill-trained combatants who have to resort to using their daggers or short swords once the varithium seals their magic. If the varithium fails to work on them, it will still help you, somewhat, inuring you to whatever they attempt to do to you."

"And I will be near at hand. Establish early on that you don't have the money on you, and you should be fine. Okay?"

He looked down at Ajax, and opened his arms questioningly. He wasn't sure if a hug would help or just seem strange, but he was offering one.

[Andros]

Was the hug welcome? Of course it was. Hakon had that effect on Ajax. It was like a drug. The man made him eager to be touched and held in a way that was totally new and out of his control. It was as if he had no choice but to launch himself into Hakon’s outstretched arms and shove his face into his lovers big chest. Which is exactly what he did.

Hakon had turned him into a very good wife, Ajax reflected as he packed up their tent and bedrolls. He cooked Hakon’s supper, mended his clothes, and shined his boots, and none of it felt like work anymore. Instead it was satisfying, and seeing Hakon’s appreciation even more so. If Hakon had insisted on going off to the Men’s House to drink all night instead of sharing the dinner he’d made and keeping him company, he’d have been beyond furious, just like his mother used to be with Fell. She must really have cared for him, once upon a time.

He’s giving me sympathy for that old cow? That’s bullshit!. Ajax muttered it to himself as he saddled the horses, then overcompensated by trying to jump on like Hakon could rather than climbing up the beast. He was rewarded for his hubris with a prompt fall on his backside. Hakon, of course, made it better by scooping Ajax up and putting him astride the horse in a way that made him feel safe and relaxed. Ajax smiled as Hakon led them out of camp. He was in over his head. Way over his head.

The ride to the meeting place was only a few hours. Ajax didn’t expect Daravin to look so different. The gorge, quickly traversed by a rickety bridge, marked a sharp transition from one climate zone to another. The cold, wet air that gave Radenor its frigid forests of pine and spruce was blocked by these mountains, leaving the interior of Daravin warmer and dryer. The land was mostly open, fields and meadows dotted with stands of trees rather than forests with agricultural land laboriously hacked out of them.

Hakon and Andeos wouldn’t want to hear it but Ajax’s first impression of the country was positive. It was ten degrees warmer on the far side of the cliffs and Ajax could shed his fur hat and thick cloak. The air warmed his entire body from his ears to his toes. He hadn’t even realized he’d been cold until suddenly he wasn’t. It was just like returning to Teos, though that was hotter still.


From the top of the cliffs, it was only an hour’s ride to the town where Horik was to meet the rogues. It was a pleasant journey and Hakon seemed to know where he was going, though when they arrived at the outskirts of town he had Ajax ask for directions.

Before they entered through the town gate, the men separated slightly. Hakon took the lead and Ajax followed twenty or thirty yards behind, as if they were strangers. Hakon would arrive first and scope out the meeting place, then Ajax would follow once Hakon had scouted a location from which he could observe. Ajax saw him dismount and stopped to tie up his own horse, then pretended to examine some vegetables for sale in a stall on the sidewalk while waiting for Hakon’s nod.