Requiem for a King [MxM]

Out of Time

Coward.

Quintus ignored the little voice in the back of his head and mounted his horse. If he rode at a gallop, he'd be at the dock in less than an hour and hopefully out of the forbidden city shortly after. He'd hoped to leave without Gavrael knowing, had told Havers the previous night of his plan and asked him to inform the King when he was long gone.

Because he was a coward.

The look Gavrael had given him sent a lance through his heart that would remain there for many years to come. He hated that it had to end this way. That it had to end at all. But there was no better way to do this that he was ready and willing to commit to. They weren't meant for each other. Gavrael would grow old and die, and he would live on. Forever.

Quintus turned his horse and rode south through the gardens, out the gate and into the park—the first place he and Gavrael had visited upon arriving in Avaly. He imagined them sitting in the gazebo with Havers, remembered the deep pity he'd felt for the King.

At that point, he didn't understand why he felt so sorry for Gavrael, but after his time here, he'd gained some clarity. Gavrael was a victim too, both of circumstance and the predatory practices of the Divine City. And that was something he could deeply empathise with.

In the same way Gavrael had never wanted to be king, Quintus never wanted to be a Necromancer. He'd spent most of his days at the archives brooding and bumping heads with his mentors as he grappled with his newfound power and the baggage that came along with it.

Even some two hundred years later, he still wasn't comfortable in his own skin. He still lamented every moment he had to be a necromancer. Many days he'd wanted to leave it all behind, live in a wilderness or a hovel somewhere until he drove himself insane.

He rode into the city proper, past vendors shouting their wares and people drifting to and fro. The sun beat down hard on the cobblestone and lingered between the throngs of warm bodies in a way made the air muggy.

He glanced up at the tavern where he and Gavrael had first made love and a hot flash warmed his body. The king may be a little timid when it came to the crown, but he was a good fuck. Probably one of the boldest and most generous lovers Quintus had bedded. Anyone would be lucky to have him.

Anyone who wasn't a miserable piece of shit.

Quintus continued down the capital's sloping terrain to the docks. According to Havers, only the larger trade vessels accommodated horses and most of them were heading for the southern continents. It looked as though he'd be meeting Celesta in person. Perhaps he'd arrange a meeting with King Rakki and tell him of the situation in this region. Though there was no guarantee, this place would still be here when he arrived at the archives.

If Gavrael followed his Council to the letter, at least a few of them would survive, but he knew from experience that even in the midst of disaster, people were stupid.

Quintus hopped off his horse and guided it down to the docks. As he walked past a gaggle of sailors with arms full of cargo, a warm breeze wrapped around him—too warm for this early in spring. He looked out across the gulf towards the mountains, and the wind whispered a song to him, light and airy and full of hope.

He smiled. "There you are Octavia." If she sent that song herself, it meant she wasn't too far. As quickly as the breeze came, it fell away to still and a familiar prickle ran up and down his back. "Shit."

Quintus guided his horse back to the road and hopped on. At a gallop, he rode up the sloping land. He took a side road towards the farmland and went to the cliff side east of the castle, and from that vantage point, he saw the spore cloud. Vivid, purple and roaring right towards him.

"Damn it." Quintus turned away and headed for the Castle. The guards leapt out of the way as he charged through the gates. He left the horse outside the vestibule and ran inside. The halls were disorienting in his panic. He ran from one wide one to a narrow one, to another wide one. Gavrael should be in a council meeting now, but Quintus had no idea how to get to the chamber.

He circled back and wound up in the south vestibule again. There he stopped an attendant carrying a bundle of clothes. "How do I get to the Council chamber?"

She eyed him up and down with a frown. "Follow the west hall to the end, then head north. It'll be the big double door. But you can't—"

Quintus ran off before she could finish, following the directions she'd given him. He found the double doors, manned by two guards standing at attention.

"The council is in session. I'm afraid you can't go in," one said.

"You need to let me in there right now," Quintus said, keeping his voice even despite his rising irritation. "The bone dragon is on its way. I have to tell Gavrael."

The guards exchanged glances. "I'm sorry, but we've been ordered not to let anyone in. You're free to wait until the Council adjourns."

"Fuck your orders. There's a calamity on its way here!"

"Sir, I'm only going to ask you one more time," the guard said, resting his hand on his sword.

Quintus breathed a sigh and dropped his cross. "Fine. I guess we're fighting then." He grappled the first guard and together, they tumbled through the Council chamber doors. He caught a boot to his gut and et spiraling to the polished tile.

Shouts and murmurs echoed through the chamber in a chorus of dissonance until a clear "Stand down!" cut through the din.

Quintus made it to his knees before a hand hoisted him to his feet and threw him against the wall so hard his teeth clicked. He opened his eyes to a red-faced Gavrael.

"What in damnation is your problem?" the king demanded.

Quintus had never heard Gav get that loud. It was kind of hot. "I—"

"We're trying to have a meeting here, and you're making a spectacle of yourself!"

"Gav—"

"Do you need a few hours in the dungeon to regain your senses?"

"I'm trying to warn you!" Quintus yelled back. "The bone dragon is on its way here."

Gavrael's face went from angry to horrified in a blink. "What do you mean it's on its way? I thought..."

"I rode up to the east cliffs and saw the spore cloud." He leaned off the wall. "It's not going towards Hutton. It's coming here, to the capital. Right now. There isn't much time left."