Consequences of the Maou\'s Heart

Chapter 17

Really, Murata almost pitied Yuri’s situation, almost. The two had been discussing the up coming journy and had just decided when the best time for Murata and Wolfram to leave the castle was, Yuri was hesitant to let Wolfram out of his sight too quickly. However, Murata pushed for a quick departure, stating that it was ‘like a bandaid’ the faster the removal the quicker the pain went away. They had finally decided that they would set out in two days time, much to Yuri’s distress.

The Maou paced a tight line between the window and desk of his office. One of his hands stayed at his mouth as he worried a nail between his teeth. Sometime during Yuri’s quest to find Wolfram, Gwendal had seen fit to reload the Maou’s desk with a new mountain of paperwork and the stack swayed ominously.

“Murata are you sure this is the best thing to do?” Yuri didn’t break from his pacing as he spoke.

“Of course not,” the sight of Yuri nearly tripping at Murata’s words amused the sage, “Shibuya, there’s no way to know if you’re making the right decision. That’s part of life.”

“But… but you’re the Great Sage, shouldn’t you know?” Yuri looked desperately at Murata, to which Murata could only roll his eyes.

“You know I’m getting pretty sick of people making that assumption. I’ve lived a lot of lives and was well informed of Shinou’s plans. I’m not psychic. You’re just gonna have to deal with the choices you made.” Yuri hung his head and gave up on his pacing.

“I know, I know, doesn’t mean I have to like it… Where will you go?”

“Well I thought we might follow the Double Black Trail.” Murata could see the confusion on Yuri’s face even before the Maou voiced a question.

“The what?” Yuri may not have been much of a scholar, but he was pretty sure he would remember if Gunter had mentioned something with such an odd sounding name.

“The Double Black Trail, it doesn’t surprise me that you haven’t heard about it, few have these days,” seeing the look of interest on Yuri’s face Murata decided to explain a bit further, “Double blacks weren’t always as rare in Shin Makoku as they are now. They’ve never been the majority but they were around. A few decades before the whole Soushu debacle most of the double blacks began leaving populated areas. They all seemed to follow the same path, as if guided by some instinct. A few remained behind, usually the elderly or those with strong family ties to non-double blacks. Those who left never returned. I thought it would be interesting to see if could figure out what became of them.” Murata only gave Yuri the bare minimum of details concerning the events of so long ago, conveniently leaving out the reasons behind the double black exodus and the fates of the unfortunate ones who stayed behind.

“Well I guess that could be ok, but don’t do anything dangerous.”

“Of course not, Shibuya. I’ll leave the dangerous stuff up to you.”

“Thanks… Hey wait!” Yuri glared impotently at the Sage.

“Sharp as always Shibuya,” Murata paused briefly for dramatic effect and to enjoy the affronted look Yuri was sporting, “You going to tell him about my exciting plans of adventure?” Yuri’s face crumpled.

“I guess I should be the one telling him,” Yuri trailed off.

“But?” It didn’t take a genius to see that Yuri felt uncomfortable with the current subject matter, luckily for Murata he had no qualms about prodding at the awkward subject.

“You didn’t see him earlier Murata. It was like he was a whole different person. No accusations of being a wimp, even when I deserved it. He even called me ‘Heika’. I don’t think he’s ever done that before.”

“I would imagine he hasn’t. You proposed to him, what, less than a day after you got here? Well before your coronation, either way. So really he’s never had to address you like that.”

“Yeah, yeah but I can’t imagine a little thing like tradition stopping Wolfram from calling me anything other than what he wants to.”

“He’s more traditional than you think. King and country before anything else, heck he’s kept you out of more social messes than I really care to think about. Bet he’d take a bullet for you… if Shin Makoku had guns that is.”

“Don’t say stuff like that, I don’t want anybody taking a bullet for me. Especially not Wolfram. Right now all I want him to do if have some fun and take a rest from having to watch over me.” Yuri looked incredibly pathetic standing there, it almost made Murata feel bad for what he was about to do.

“So I sweep the pretty boy off into the sunset for a little fun?”

“ACK! Don’t say it like that!”

“Right, right Shibuya. Well then I’ll just leave you to figure out how you’re going to tell the sexually frustrated pretty prince that he’s going off with a dark haired man for a nice long, hard ride,” the unnaturally red color of Yuri’s face only spurred Murata on, “Oh and don’t tell him I’m the dark haired man, it’ll be a nice little surprise.” Murata quickly exited the room before Yuri could gather himself enough to start berating the Sage. None the less, half the castle heard the annoyed squawking sound Yuri made once he could speak again.

For a few moments, Murata allowed morose thoughts to pass through his head as he walked away from Yuri’s office. Death was something he had a unique relationship with, having more memories of the experience than was anywhere near normal. It was always something to be avoided, but hardly the worst that could happen to a person. He knew, first hand, what its like to be tortured to the point of begging for death. In dying there is a sort of freedom, a release that can’t be understood by those who haven’t experienced it. Death is worse for those still alive, unable to let go of those already gone.

It saddened Murata to think of Wolfram cold and still, but he could understand the blond’s readiness to die. The former prince had accepted his imminent death years ago, and could no longer see any other truly plausible resolution to his situation. Despite the fact that it might cause the blond to hate him, Murata was determined to do what ever he could to keep Wolfram alive. Not for Wolfram’s sake, but for his family’s, his friends’, and Shinou help him for Yuri’s sake as well. Yet should he fail, he’d make sure Wolfram didn’t die alone. It was the least he could do for one of Shinou’s greatest pawns.

With a shake of his head Murata forced the less than pleasant thoughts away; he had a mission to accomplish if he wanted everything to go as planned. Happily, he met no one in the halls as he made his way to the aviary. The room stunk despite the evidence of at least one person’s attempts to clean the place regularly. He looked about the cages till he found the birds that were able to locate the person he needed to correspond with.

Truly Shin Makoku’s homing pigeon system was amazing compared to the one that was used on Earth so many years ago. But sometimes, Murata really longed for a good old fashion cell phone. A thin strip of paper with neat handwriting on both sides was pulled from his pocket and placed the tube resting on one of the birds’ legs. He carried the cooing bird to one of the many windows and released it into the wind. Likely the bird wouldn’t reach it’s destination till after Murata departed from the castle along with the dying prince. Of course the best fireworks are observed from afar and Murata did not envy those who would be in this particular firecracker’s way once the explosions started.

*****

Doria fluttered about nervously. Some time ago Wolfram had wandered into the kitchen, plopped down at a work table, and hadn’t moved since. The rest of the kitchen staff quickly found other places to be, but she couldn’t resist the opportunity for some information gathering. The pretty maid wanted to ask him if he needed anything, but was unwilling to risk having the glare the wall was currently receiving turned on her. Thoughts as to why the former prince would hole up in the kitchen frolicked through Doria’s mind. Perhaps he was hungry, but wait one of his men had come to fetch breakfast for him and it wasn’t quite lunch time yet. Maybe the thought of facing his family after the shameful ending of his engagement was too much so he took refuge in the one place they wouldn’t look for him? No, Lasagna had seen him talking with Greta in her room this morning. Perchance he was merely waiting for her to leave so that he could get into the supply of poison kept in the kitchen, to deal with pests, so that he could end his own life now that he couldn’t have Yuri?! Doria almost laughed at that idea, there was no way the ever proud prince would throw away his own live over a little rejection.

It was understandable that in her distraction, Doria didn’t notice someone enter the kitchen until he was right behind her. Conrart’s came to rest hand lightly on her shoulder, already full of adrenaline from her discomforting thoughts; she reacted quickly to the unexpected touch. Had Conrart been anything less that a highly trained soldier, he might have wound up with the maid’s chopping knife lodged in his throat. As things were, he caught Doria’s wrist before she could complete the swing. Seeing her intent to begin apologizing, Conrart placed one finger over his lips, indicating that he wanted her to stay silent. They both glanced toward Wolfram to see if he had noticed their interaction; either the blond was oblivious to the occurrence or had deemed it below his notice.

With a small wave, Conrart dismissed Doria from the kitchen. Silence reigned in the room for a few moments. Knowing that his brother wouldn’t start talking to him outright, Conrart began gathering some things from around the kitchen. Shortly, Conrart placed the results of his search on the table in front of Wolfram, a plate with a small bowl of honey and some in season fruits. When he was younger it was well known that Wolfram was a lover of sweets. As he grew older he stopped indulging in his sweet tooth and most of those who bothered knowing such things assumed that he out grew the habit. Conrart held no such illusions and was fairly sure that something sweet was the key to getting Wolfram to notice someone. It took a second, but before too long Wolfram began dipping the fruit in honey and munching on them angrily.

“Did you need something Lord Wel…” Wolfram took a deep breath before continuing, “Conrart?” Alarm bells started sounding in Conrart’s head but he kept the neutral look on his face.

“Yes I’m afraid there’s been a report of a fearsome beast scaring away all of the kitchen staff. Perhaps you’ve seen this beast?” Wolfram responded with an irked snort, really Conrart’s jokes could be so bad they stopped being jokes at all. “Perhaps this beast is looking for some sort of assistance?”

“Always looking for a chance to be a valiant knight?” Wolfram didn’t look at his brother as he spoke, but the words themselves were a good sign.

“I fear it is some sort of terrible compulsion,” Conrart took a moment to simply look at his brother, “So is there anything this knight can do to aid the kitchen dwelling beast?”

“Mmm, doubtfully. Knights are well known for their loyalty to the crown, not to foolish beasts.” It hurt Conrart to hear the defeated tone in his younger brother’s voice, and it hurt worse to know that in most situations the statement was highly true. He had made an oath to protect the Maou and, family or not, it would be a great dishonor to put anyone before the Maou.

“But every now and then those who bear the crown do very thoughtless things, and certain knights find themselves more inclined to side with the beasts.” Conrart barely keep a fond grin off his face at Wolfram’s response. The blond turned his head to stare blatantly at his brother, mouth slightly open as if readying a retort that just wouldn’t come. In a round about way Conrart had stated his willingness to choose Wolfram over Yuri. The insinuation set a feeling of warmth through Wolfram, followed but a rush of crushing pain. It was wonderful for him to know that Conrart didn’t hold his past behavior against him, but hearing it with the shadow of his death hanging over his head took all the joy away from it.

“I,” Wolfram managed to speak past his emotions, “think that the beast would appreciate the knight’s sentiment, even if he’d never say so,” a small smile quirked at Wolfram’s lips at the look of happiness on his brother’s face as he spoke. The brother’s relationship had gotten better in the years since Yuri’s arrival, but it wouldn’t get the chance to heal completely. Conrart only smiled at his brother and watched him finish the light snack. All too soon the kitchen staff began poking their heads in, ready to reclaim their territory. Wolfram and Conrart left and warmly parted ways.

The first wave of weakness hit Wolfram shortly after departing from the kitchen. The wall seemed to rush at him as he stumbled feebly to the side. He tried to brace a hand on the wall to keep his balance, but his arm refused to straighten and he found himself sliding down the wall pathetically. Shaking helplessly, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he struggled to breathe properly. With as little warning as it started the sickness faded, leaving Wolfram to pick himself up off the floor. The bout lasted less than a minute but the ramifications would haunt the blond for the rest of the day. Already his body was weakening without Yuri’s Maryoku to constantly heal him; he needed to leave before he got too weak to convince his family that he was able to travel. In his rush to leave the site of his attack, he never noticed the figure that had witnessed the episode.

****

AN: Short chapter, I know but hey at least I got one out? Un-betaed to get it to you faster.