Chapter 326: Winter To Be Over.

Chapter 326: Chapter 326: Winter To Be Over.

Gurdet must say, being lenient is quite exhausting.

​It’s his own fault, he supposes. Xena might like say otherwise, but he is only human.

Occasionally he makes his mistakes. And even more occasionally, the odd...miscalculation.

​As it turns out, he may , in hindsight, have vastly underestimated Lord Spidra’s hatred for Drogger Noog.

​Rogard Spidra can plead all he likes that this was just a simple disagreement between a father and son that got a little out of hand, but the timing is just a little too suspicious to be purely coincidental.

Not to mention that while the noble houses of this kingdom have spent generations undercutting, undermining, and generally squabbling amongst themselves, outright violence is rare, and on this scale, quite unheard of.

If every petty disagreement in this castle ended with a prominent nobleman confined to his quarters, the destruction of what he considered a perfectly lovely courtyard, and his infirmary a veritable bloodbath, well then there wouldn’t be much of his castle left standing, would there?

​And while he can admit that perhaps he hadn’t received the news of his daughter’s budding romantic interest with the most grace, at least he didn’t set his guards on anyone.

​Hatred can drive even the best of men to madness, he supposes.

​And Lord Spidra has never been the best of men.

​(It’s why for all his protests of innocence, Gurdet hadn’t quite bought his story. He’s honestly a little offended that Bongo thought he would.)

​No matter how perfect and pretty the mask may be or how many lies they’re made of, these things all reveal themselves, given time.

All these years he’s been more petty than dangerous, but Gurdet has always known that the day would come when he overstepped and his mask finally slipped and he would show himself for the spider he truly was.

But he could never have anticipated that it would be in quite such extravagant fashion.

​Attacking his own son? Inciting a brawl? And –almost more damningly –attacking the man as good as promised to the next-in-line for the throne? It’s certainly not a good look, and rather makes his nephew look all the more gallant for having foiled him.

​Such a lovely narrative, don’t you think, Bongo?

​Because the truth is good and all, but sometimes it’s boring, and while the castle nobility will demand answers, what they really want is a good narrative.

Lord Rogard knows that.

It’s one of his favourite tactics. Polish the truth a little –not necessarily with lies , no, but with whispers and speculation –and they eat it right up.

This time they’ll hear what Gurdet wants them to hear.

And after all these years spent as a thorn in Gurdet’s side, he most certainly won’t be allowing the Lord Rogard to make himself out as the victim.

​He definitely feels a headache coming on.

​Ugh , it would have been so much easier to just toss Khobi in a cell and call it a day, but the moment Gurdet had so much as jokingly suggested it, Loac had practically bitten his head off.

​Some fucking king you are.

​The scorn had been positively palpable .

​Honestly, Gurdet had been...taken aback.

He and his nephew have never had the warmest of relationships but after so many years spent so jaded, for him to have spoken to him the way he did was...unprecedented.

​I’m the one who punched Rogard’s old man, so what’re you punishing Khobi for ?

​His words had made Gurdet pause.

Because while Loac’s always been wilful –one of those traits Gurdet would love to blame on his father when in reality his mother was equally to blame –something about this had felt different from his usual breed of defiance.

Maybe it was the grimace in his voice, or the steel in his eyes, or the stubborn, almost childish way his hands curled into fists, but as he looked upon this man who he both recognised and didn’t, something warm and fond had stirred in Gurdet’s chest.

​Pride, possibly, because affection seemed just too far-fetched.

​Gurdet had instinctively spared a glance for Khobi then, and found him staring not back at him, but at his nephew; eyes wide and expression staggered , like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing either.

​And then Rogard Spidra had put up his hand to be punished too –his father, his business, and all that –and it had gotten all so very noble and dramatic that Xena’s eyes had started to do that misty thing he couldn’t bear and Gurdet’s stomach had started to turn and he’d known that there was no way he was going to be able to punish any of them and still manage to sleep at night.

​Gods , he cannot wait for winter to be over.

...

"... Wait ," Khobi says. He must’ve taken one too many blows to the head today because he’s a bit slow on the uptake. "...So we’re not getting punished?"

​That is what he just said, yes.

​Bongo’s sure that if he insists then His Majesty would be more than happy to accommodate, but Khobi wisely decides to quit while he’s ahead.

He still looks confused, though, which can Bongo understand. The relationship between Khobi and his king has been (also somewhat understandably) fraught with mistrust and tension since the moment he first set foot in the castle –but he meant it when he’d told Montrel that Gurdet is not an unreasonable man.

​(Bongo also suspects that he knows more than he’s letting on.

​He usually does.)

​"...That being said," Bongo adds meaningfully, dipping his head to Loac, "Your uncle would like to remind you that you can’t just go around punching people because you don’t like what they’re saying."

​"I’ll try remember that," Loac drawls, clearly with no intention of doing so. Bongo knew that would be the case, but orders are orders, and Gurdet had insisted.

​"Of course, Your Highness," Bongo says, and gives him a wry smile, "...He would also appreciate it if you didn’t yell at him again."

​"...No promises."

​Bongo is going to pretend he didn’t hear that.

​"So, we’re free to go?" Khobi hazards, and when Bongo nods for what feels like the hundredth time, his shoulders visibly sag with relief and he flops back down onto the bed like the tension had been all that was holding him upright.

He immediately grimaces in pain, and reaches up to press on a patch just below his ribs.

All three of them suddenly look terribly sore and terribly tired.

​Terribly young, too.

​"...What about my father?" Rogard asks, voice uncharacteristically small.

​That had been Gurdet’s biggest headache, too. For now, he’s confined to his quarters, until Gurdet can come up with an appropriate punishment.

There are just some people that can’t just be thrown in a dungeon.

​In the meantime, he suggests that Rogard find alternative accommodations, and that if they have been cleared to leave, to perhaps do so before the men they knocked unconscious start waking up.

Because as ragged as they look, a few of them are starting to stir, and while it’s entirely in bad taste to start something in a place of healing and they don’t particularly look in any fit state to do so in any case, Bongo would rather not take any chances.

​Right on cue, Khobi’s stomach growls.

Probably a good thing, too –patched up and no longer being held there under orders, they’ve just about outstayed their welcome.

​"...Is food seriously all you think about?" Rogard remarks incredulously, as Khobi sheepishly hauls himself back upright and rubs agitatedly at his belly like he’s just realised that he’s absolutely starving.

​" No ," he huffs, and his stomach promptly betrays him by grumbling again. Louder, this time.

​" Name one thing ."

​That’s not fair, putting him on the spot like that.

Especially since the only thing that immediately comes to mind is the one thing that Khobi would never admit.

Khobi’s eyes flit to the space across from him, where Loac is pulling his torn shirt back on over his head; arms slow and more stiff than he’s ever seen him.

​Better Rogard think his head’s empty than know even a shred of what’s been rattling around inside it.

​Bongo watches the exchange with a measure of amusement, and has to make a quick amendment to his earlier observation.

​How things change, and yet how they stay the same .

​It takes a moment to get the three of them back on their feet, but nothing seems to be broken, missing, or damaged beyond repair.

Khobi looks a bit stiff, and has to lean on Rogard a little bit to get fully upright again, but despite the blood and how generally ragged they look, they seem to be all right.

​The soldiers waiting on the other side of the door will be relieved.

​"You guys are fucking morons," Montrel declares, the moment the door opens, and then before said morons can say a word to defend themselves, he stalks forwards and wraps Khobi in a tight hug that knocks the wind out of him.

Then he pulls back, smacks him, and goes right in to do the same to Rogard.

He makes no move to hug Loac, but after a beat he does give him a hefty punt in the arm with a fist. Which is something, at least.

​"Glad you guys are all okay," he says gruffly, and it genuinely sounds like it’s meant for all of them.