He tried to avoid thinking too much about his present circumstances. Simply trying to survive sometimes offered a slight means of distraction. Try as he might though Lukas's thoughts inevitably reverted back to his family. He sorely missed his father's guidance, especially at a time when he needed it the most. He had been there his entire life, helping and teaching him the way of their people. He had accepted every aspect of Lukas life without judgement or regret. He had never challenged Lukas's decision not to take a wife, or the consequences that accompanied a childless male. He had, when everything was said and done, been the best father a child could ask for.
Now in a world where all he had known was family and companionship Lukas was suddenly very much alone. He pulled his knees into his chest and looked slowly around the small room he shared with the other tinkers. He missed his wagon and the array of colours that used to fill his world. It was so drab within the high city walls. Even the colours of his clothes were grey and black.
Despite himself Lukas wondered where his father was now. He hoped the old man had managed to keep his mother safe. Somehow thinking they might still be together made things a little easier. Since he had learned of their fate he had concentrated wholly on Rose. To think of what his brother and other sisters might be enduring hurt too much for his already broken heart.
And then there was Robert, wondering alone in a hostile city without any money or friends. Lukas dreaded to think what would become of his brother. Despite frantically searching for him he had found no sign of his sibling. Robert had been so angry for so long that Lukas was terrified of what he might do in order to gain the revenge he so desperately sought.
Home sickness swept through him so suddenly that it took his breath away. Vivid images of his life, things that seemed so long ago now that they might have happened to someone else, flashed before his eyes. He recalled the way the children laughed and shrieked amid the glowing campfire light. He remembered the way their brilliant clothing flowed in a whirlwind of colour and vitality before the fire, how trinkets and scarves and jewellery shimmered at every earring and throat and wrist. He pictured his people as they sang and played instruments, as they laughed and told the stories of their past.
All Lukas could hear now was the yells and bellows that always seemed to accompany the peasant quarter. Though he had visited cities before he had never spent a long time within their walls. He longed for fresh air, sunlight and colour.
The door to the room opened suddenly. It was another of the renegade tinkers but even so Lukas found it difficult to release the tight hold he had on his dagger. "Any news?" He asked, easing back so the elder man could take his place beside the small heath that was all they had to keep them warm.
"Nothing really. A few more were taken in but there are less with each passing day. My guess is that the others have either already turned south or there aren't any of us left." He groaned softly as he warmed his hands beside the fire. "There was a little boy, he looked just like my lad."
Lukas met the other man's sorrowful eyes but what could he say to ease such pain. He turned back to the hearth and thought of life as it should have been. He thought of golden eyes and sun kissed skin. Not for the first time he felt anger and betrayal as the image of Tate lingered in his mind. And though a part of him hated the half-blood he could not banish the hollow feeling of loss in his chest when he thought of him.
"I've lost them all." He groaned suddenly with such anguish and pain he was sure his heart was about to burst. Tears washed unbidden down his cheeks. "I'm alone."
"We all are." The old man said gruffly beside the fire. "And we've got but one man to blame for that."
***************
Christian glared at their father with seething hatred. "You can't be serious?" He sputtered, leaning forward with his eating knife clenched tightly in his right hand. "I will not marry that, that cow!"
"Lady Phatilia is hardly a cow." The old man said good naturedly, totally oblivious to Christian's glaring distain. "By all accounts she is devastatingly lovely. She's said to have a sharp and cunning wit."
"A crone who thinks beyond her sex more like." Christian spat. His furious gaze settled cunningly on Tanis. "Why not marry her to the boy. I'm sure he'd appreciate the crone far more than I."
Their father turned to Tanis and with a dreamy smile. "Lady Phatilia has been bred to marry a king, not a prince. She is to be yours Christian's. You should be happy with the match."
"But-"
"It has already been decided!" The old man suddenly boomed, the iron in his voice reminding everyone of the man he used to be before old age robbed him of so much of his fierceness. His normally watery eyes shone with malignance. "She is awaiting your arrival within the southern province. You are to meet the princess and her entourage and you are to escort her back here for your wedding. You are not to delay; you are not to mistreat her. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"
"Fine!" The prince literally screamed. He punched the table beneath him, embedding the knife in the aged wood. "I know my duty father! I'll marry the cow if you wish it."
"Christian?" The king rose slowly to his feet. "One more thing. You are not to make this trip within the company of your squire. He will remain here until you return. "
Tanis literally leaned back from him when Christian's gaze swept over him. A look of barely contained fury was trapped within his gaze and it was directed almost solely on their father. "Your pardon my king but why is the company I keep any concern of yours."
"I will be blunt, as we are within the company of family. I do not wish for your new wife to be immediately confronted with your squire. I do not think it is necessary for me to say why. You need not worry; he will be kept under careful watch whilst you're away."
"No." Christian said between clenched teeth.
"Yes," The king corrected. "And if need be I will have him taken away against your wishes. The mongrel's father has been asking for him, you know this."
Tanis had seen his brother angry before but he had never seen the mad look of fury that seemed to physically radiate from him. He started sputtering, his fists sporadically clenching and unclenching as he took a faltering step forward. He stopped abruptly, turned on his heels and thundered from the hall.
************
Tate was sat quietly within the prince's parlour, his legs crossed upon the luxurious scarlet rug as he leafed leisurely through a book from the palace library. He looked up sleepily when he heard the outer doors open. Immediate weariness washed through him, banishing away the brief feeling of calm he had been enjoying.
It was Christian of course. "What are you reading?" He inquired softly. To Tate's surprise the young man settled down beside him and gently plucked the book from Tate's fingers. "The history of Acranim." He mused. "Where did you get this?"
"The library." Tate said slowly as he took the book back. He looked over his shoulder but he couldn't quite read the look on Christian's face. He resisted the urge to ease away from the prince and tried to concentrate on what he was reading. He gave up eventually though. The feel of Christian's breath on the back of his neck was impossible to ignore.
He put the book down and got quickly to his feet. Christian stared at him with narrowed eyes and Tate felt a mounting feeling of panic. "Can I get you anything?" He asked as he stepped back a few steps.
