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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 8.6, Malcom (pt A)

The words felt odd in his muzzle but Brother Rhys attempted them never the less. He slowly and carefully enunciated each syllable... and the strange run-together syllables seemingly so common in the tongue of the tribesmen. It was a single sentence-- three words, four syllables (five if you counted the strange combined syllabic sound of the third word) and he was fairly certain he'd botched it. Judging from the smile that creased Runs-on-Air's muzzle the Rat was even more convinced. "It wasn't that good, was it?"

The Buck reached across the distance that separated them on the bed and took hold of one of Rhys' paws. "You do good. It is good start."

The Priest wasn't much for being given false hope. "But it wasn't right, was it?"

It had been several hours since they had last seen Prince Malcom and neither the finely appointed apartment or the welcome companionship of Runs-on-Air had taken away the nagging thoughts in the back of Brother Rhys' mind that continued to haunt him even through the otherwise pleasant language session. It was bringing his mood down, as was evident by his inability to see the apparent progress the Buck was able to notice. He apologized immediately. "I'm sorry, Runs-on-Air... I don't mean to be an ungrateful student, I just--"

The scout held up a hand to stop him. "No. It is... fine. I understand."

Brother Rhys let out a deep sigh. Their accommodations were provided to them by the city council of Vallara; the priest had want for nothing ever since their return to the small town... nothing other than direction and movement. Both of those desires, however, went unanswered. They had followed Prince Malcom with all due haste away from the Grass Tribe's village and back to Vallara and yet, once they arrived it seemed as though they had hurried up just so they could wait. In the end the Rat's admission left his muzzle. "I hate feeling powerless."

Runs-on-Air smiled so brightly it almost banished the clouds from the Priest's mind... almost. The Buck slid closer on the bed and took one of Rhys' paws in his hand. "You have power, Eyara. Great power. You help Yew Tribe and then help Grass Tribe. Together, you help them do things they no can do without you. You SAVE people."

The Rat shook his head. "Not ENOUGH people... just some."

The tribesman looked at him with severity, locking gazes. "You can save all people?"

Brother Rhys half-laughed half-scoffed at the thought but it did provide him some degree of perspective. "No... but I wish I could have."

Runs-on-Air provided him a much more genuine smile than the Rat figured he himself was capable of at that moment. "I always wished I can fly. I no can fly... but I do not let it eat at me. The spirits make me to run... and I run good. You... your god make you to heal... and you heal good. I do not be angry when I cannot fly... you do not be angry when you cannot save all people."

It was obviously hard for the Buck to convey his thoughts in the common tongue and yet, Brother Rhys realized, he managed to explain eloquently the exact counter-argument of what brought so much trouble to the Rat's mind. The Priest could not shake the feeling that he wasn't doing enough but he hadn't stopped to think that he had been doing everything he COULD. It brought him SOME comfort but he still found himself wishing he could do more. Regardless, what Runs-on-Air had said did hold a lot of merit. "You're right."

The Buck's smile turned into a smirk. "I know... that's why I say it."

The Rat let out another deep breath. "I just... I wish I knew what I could do to get rid of this feeling."

"There is ALWAYS something."

The declaration was followed by a moment of silence between them and Brother Rhys felt his ears flushing within the lack of words. He had been waiting for hours for Prince Malcom to return from his discussion with the city council but, as Runs-on-Air's fingers slowly interlaced with his own, for the first time the Rat was pleased that he had time on his paws. The Buck slid closer, pressing the end of his muzzle up beneath the Priest's robe's collar and Brother Rhys realized at that moment that there were rare spans in life when people received the blessing of idle time and he was doubly blessed that he had someone so close who knew how to make best use of it.

Runs-on-Air was completely naked and Brother Rhys' robe was fully parted when Prince Malcom entered the apartment a few minutes later. The Buck didn't seem to mind in the least which made the Priest's embarrassment all the worse but, thankfully Prince Malcom provided them a moment to make themselves presentable before he pointedly put away the scroll he held in his paw. His declaration was sudden and to-the-point. "We need to leave."

Brother Rhys had been waiting all afternoon for Prince Malcom to return and provide some direction but discovering that the Wolf planned on starting a new leg of their journey at dusk was surprising. "Now, your Highness?"

"Yes... or as close to it as possible."

Runs-on-Air spoke in the Tribal tongue and the Rat surprised himself by understanding the rough meaning of the Buck's question; he had inquired of the Prince why they were leaving so late in the day. Prince Malcom answered simply. "The Church has married off my Brother."

It was a strange reason for travel so late in the day as far as Brother Rhys was concerned. He was comfortable enough to voice his view. "It is a shame you were unable to attend the service, your Highness, but if the wedding has already taken place I do not understand why it is of utmost importance to leave at this hour. Wouldn't it be wiser to wait until morning when--"

The Prince interrupted him. "Prince Regent Thaddius is the heir-apparent by church decree... is that not correct, Brother Rhys?"

The Rat nodded. "It is, your Highness... though there is widespread objection to that point of view since you and your sister--"

Prince Malcom wasn't done. "And if he is wed to a woman and fathers a son, then his son will be the heir to the throne after him... yes?"

Brother Rhys nodded again. "Of course, your Highness. The firstborn son of a king will become king after his father."

The Wolf began packing the few things he'd unpacked as he busied himself around the room. "The Church isn't interested in protecting Thaddius, Brother Rhys; they are using him to secure their control of Lehsunia. Their interest is in our family's bloodline."

The Priest stepped forward and moved to rest a paw on Prince Malcom's shoulder. "Your Highness... please... calm yourself for a moment and explain what you mean. You are acting as if your brother is in danger."

The Wolf came to a stop and took a deep breath. As Prince Malcom turned to regard him Brother Rhys realized that there was an almost feral aggression in his eyes. "The Church meant to control my brother... but he is... different-- in his head he is different. They may humor him but they will not let him have his way. They still believe they can treat him like a pup... but they cannot. He is NOT a pup, Brother... he is a man and he does not always listen."

Brother Rhys nodded calmly. "That is a GOOD thing, your Highness... it means that he can make his own decisions."

The Prince pulled away, returning to his packing. "No... the only reason they've been patient with his imbalance is because he is in line to be King. Once he sires an heir then they will kill him. A TRUE puppy is far easier to manipulate than my willful brother."

Regardless of how uncertain Brother Rhys felt about the situation Prince Malcom's emotional state was enough to instill that extra sense of urgency in the rat. Leaving at dusk was suddenly not that crazy of an idea.