Scorched (Phoenix Chronicles Book 2)

Chapter 15: Bainon's Revelation

Time slowed, the words reverberating around in Eric's head. 

I know you can't be mine.

"I can't?" The words nearly strangled him, even as the truth sank deep.

Bainon shook his head. "No. You can't." Eric placed his hand over his heart and rubbed the spot his birthmark had once been. "It's disappearing, isn't it?" 

Eric nodded, trying to remember how to swallow.

"When those appeared?" Bainon gestured to the marks on Eric's hands. "Yes, as soon as you returned, I knew. Narissa doesn't want to admit it, but I know the mark of the Ancients when I see it." When Eric didn't respond, Bainon sighed and continued. "Not all Guardians have marks, did you know? Depending on who their parents are depends on who has them. Some Ancients have the marks as well, and they tend to pass that down."

"What does this mean?" Eric croaked out, splaying his hands before him.

"It means one of two things." Bainon leaned back in his seat, his demeanor casual, unperturbed. "Either Narissa had an affair with an Ancient - unlikely - or you belong to neither of us." At Eric's frown, Bainon chuckled. "My wife is many things, but a wandering woman she is not." His face fell. "I fear this is my fault."

"How?"

"It's important for a king to have an heir - especially with everything that happened when...when Tarvril died." Bainon's eyes shifted out of focus, as though he looked deep into the past. "After the Guardians died, I knew my brother had to be stopped. Clarice had disappeared, and Narissa was inconsolable. I asked her to cross a line she swore she'd never draw near in order to bring peace back to our region."

Eric opened his mouth to ask what had been done, but Bainon blinked, shaking his head and coming back to the present.

"Without an heir, we're susceptible to another claiming the throne. The Militia isn't to be trusted - their motives aren't pure. They'd destroy everything we've fought for the moment the heir took the throne. It would be just as it was before: women and children dying, men lawless, and Guardians murdered." 

The image of Maverick entered Eric's mind, and he pursed his lips. "Isn't that what we're already doing? Killing anyone who comes against us?"

Bainon shook his head. "No. Traitors must die, but a man cannot be killed just because I don't like what he has to say. Where would we be if that were so?"

Eric cocked his head to the side, brows furrowing. "We'd be exactly where we are. People are dying every day if they have even the faintest tie to the Militia - even if it can't be substantiated." 

"No." Bainon shook his head again. "I'd never allow it."

"It's already happening." Eric got to his feet, determined to make the king see reason. "I've gone all across this land watching people die - often making the order myself - just because they've been tied to the Militia. Your own sister included. On your orders."

Bainon jerked up, eyes wild. "What did you just say?"

"I watched Clarice Tremaine die along with her husband at the hand of one of my men - a man following the queen's orders. I myself cut down her son. All because they were connected to the Militia." 

Tears shone in Bainon's eyes as his jaw set. He bared his teeth up at Eric. "That's a lie. Clarice would never -"

"Go against you? Why not? You went against Tarvril."

"Tarvril was a madman! He'd murdered innocent beings. He'd lost his senses. I didn't have a choice."

Eric leaned against the table, staring Bainon right in the eye. "People say that about you."

Bainon launched to his feet. "Everything I have done, I've done for my people. I don't make a law or take action without thinking of them first. How dare you speak to me this way!"

"Why? Because I'm not your son?" Eric shot back, straightening so he stood taller than Bainon. "I am still your Commander - the leader of your Army. I see the people, meet with them, know them, and carry out your laws. Including the ones where people die. I'm well aware of what my position is."

"I would never -"

"But would the people close to you?" Eric shot back. "Whom do you trust to carry out your laws - to enact them - to sign them into being? Who do you allow to make decisions in your stead?"

"You watch your mouth, boy." Fear lit Bainon's eyes, and Eric knew he'd already made the connection.

"She knew you needed an heir, so she found me." Eric slammed his fist against his chest. "Where am I from? Who did I belong to before she brought me here? Did she steal me, just like she stole Claire's life? That was her name when I knew her. Claire and Norman Knight - the parents of my closest friends. Narissa made the order to kill them."

"Stop. Stop. I don't want to hear this." 

"Hear it. Accept it. It's what happened." Eric backed away, a cold rage pulsing through him. "She sent the woman I love to be murdered for no reason other than I loved her.  She ordered for me to cut down the only friend I'd had who didn't want anything from me. She hid the truth of who I am from me and from you."

"She wouldn't. She'd never do anything to hurt me."

"She would if she thinks she's helping." 

"I won't listen to this. I won't."

"You will." Eric marched up to Bainon, holding the back of his left fist in front of Bainon's face. "Because I am a Guardian - you said so yourself. That means it's my job to protect the king - you, my king. It's my job to make sure you are safe and making wise decisions. My. Job.  I know nothing of my people, my parents, my powers, but I know that I'm supposed to protect you. Don't ask me to go against my own nature."

For a long moment, neither of them said anything, Bainon staring at the icy blue tattoos on the back of Eric's hand. Finally, he reached up and gently pulled Eric's hand away from his face.

"I have no heir," he  said, a sad finality in his voice.

"No," Eric said. "You don't."

"I'm in danger of losing the throne to an enemy."

"Not if I can help it." 

"I will speak with her," Bainon said, his tone calm, the anger dissipated. "I'll discover where she found you - who you are." He nodded, offering Eric a small smile. "Together, my boy, we'll sort this out. I am lucky to have you by my side." 

Bainon stepped past Eric, moving toward the door.

"Sire?" Eric waited for Bainon to turn. "There's a book in your third floor study - one about Guardians. I came here originally to ask if I might read it."

Bainon's lower lip pushed out as he thought, but he nodded. "Yes, you may. But Eric? Don't let Narissa know - don't let her know any of this conversation. I think it best if she believes you still believe you're our son. For her sake...and yours."

Eric's head bobbed in agreement, and he said nothing more as he watched Bainon exit the room.  A sinking hole seemed to expand in his stomach, like a weight pulling him to the floor.

Who am I?

As if in answer, the softest breeze flowed in through a cracked window.

Ares. 

THINGS ARE HAPPENING!

Thoughts. I want them. Bainon and Eric got into a spat, and Bainon doesn't want to believe the worst of Narissa - but what's all that at the end where he doesn't want Eric to let Narissa know he knows?

Do you think there's any way for Bainon to get the information he's seeking? Do you think Eric will be able to protect him in the end, or is Bainon in trouble? 

What do you think Narissa did - what did Bainon ask her to do - and how do you think that affected her?

Can't wait to keep going, but first I think we need to see Phoenix and the gang again for training day! Eek! See you Thursday :)