The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate by Andrew Ashling Page A

silence descended upon the little group. Hemarchidas went to his horse, untied it and mounted.
    “Your lordship,” he said tersely, “I bid you a good day.”
    “Hemarchidas, wait,” Anaxantis said desolately, “let me at least explain.”
    “No need to explain, your highness,” Hemarchidas replied bitterly. “Just find yourself some new toys to play with.”
    With that he gave his horse the spurs and galloped off. Lethoras who was mounting his own chestnut, yelled after him.
    “Wait for me, Hemarchidas, damn it, wait for me.”
    Once mounted he turned to Anaxantis and said in a sorrowful tone:
    “Sorry, Ana... sorry, he's my friend...”
    Anaxantis followed them with his eyes until they disappeared behind the trees. He turned to Bortram, who had all this time looked on without saying a word.
    “Well, why are you still here?” Anaxantis asked roughly. “Aren't you mad at me too?”
    “I am not mad at you,” Bortram said calmly.
    “Why not? They are.”
    “Because I knew from the first moment I saw you who you were.”
    “What?”
    “I saw you riding by one day with your brother,” Bortram grinned. “Not ten feet away from me. You, of course, saw nobody.”
    “Yeah, well—”
    “O, no need to apologize,” Bortram interrupted him. “It's perfectly normal. There are hundreds of us simple soldiers and but two lord governors.”
    “And you decided to say nothing to the others?”
    “Yep. I was curious, to tell the truth. And hey, when was I ever going to get another chance to smack a prince down on his princely butt? To be honest, I was much harder on you than I would have been on any other beginner.”
    “Me and my butt thank you,” Anaxantis sneered.
    “Well, I wanted to know how long you would keep up the charade. After each time I threw you down, I expected you to say something like ‘Don't you know who I am, peasant?’ and become all highty-mighty on me. But, no, you didn't.”
    “So, you stayed just to have the pleasure to pummel me into the ground?”
    “Of course not. There was also the food. How often do you think a simple peasant's son has the occasion to sink his teeth in a chicken prepared for the lord governor? By the Gods, I get hungry just speaking about it. You wouldn't happen to have some with you, would you?”
    Anaxantis looked at him exasperated.
    “Are you serious? Oh, in my saddlebag... Go and serve yourself.”
    Bortram went over to Anaxantis's horse and opened one of the pouches.
    “The other,” Anaxantis shouted after him.
    But it was too late. Bortram had found his yellow tunic with the dragon crest.
    “Ha,” he said.
    “Yes, I take it off as soon as I reach the forest,” Anaxantis admitted.
    After replacing the tunic, Bortram retrieved an enormous turkey leg out of the other saddlebag.
    “Happy now?” Anaxantis asked.
    “Delicious. You'll never know just how delicious until you have lived a few weeks on bread, water and gruel.”
    “Try three months,” Anaxantis thought, “but you would never believe me.”
    “And you're sure I haven't?” he said. “At least, you're honest,” he added dejectedly.
    “Oh, there was something else. I never would have thought so, but I found you surprisingly fun to be around. You're good company, eh... yeah, what shall I call you?”
    “You know my name. Obviously. But you can keep calling me Anack, if you like,” Anaxantis shrugged.
    “I'll go with Anaxantis then,” Bortram replied, gulping down a piece of turkey meat. “It's a nice compromise between Your Divine Highty-Mightyness and Your Shrimpness, don't you think? Damn, this is good. I could use a swig of wine, though.”
    “Saddlebag,” Anaxantis said morosely. “So, we're good, then?” he added while Bortram was rummaging around for the wine flask.
    “Sure, why not? I still won't let you win, though,” Bortram replied, pointing the turkey leg at him.
    “I do hope so,” Anaxantis said, “but one day I am going to smack you down so hard that your ass