Dumar scrubbed at his hands almost compulsively, rinsed and scrubbed them again. Once Malthrom had been put down and his presence had gone Dumar's feelings had started to return and he had looked at the state of the room with revulsion.
The stench of death and burned flesh had permeated everything and he could not get a breath of clean air. He had staggered back from the corpse Malthrom had used, nearly retching.
Around him, those people who had not left yet were crying and vomiting at the stench. Men tried to console women without much success and the tang of fear hung in the air like an unseen fog.
He had stumbled numbly back towards Alystra who was visibly shaken and paler than normal. Her eyes found his and he saw something in them he did not like; revulsion.
Well that didn't last long. She hates me now. Can't blame her after what I just did, though. He thought with sadness.
Dumar thought about what had happened as he scrubbed his hands for the fourth time. A servant had led him into a small side room and brought water, soap and brush at his request.
The utter lack of fear or any other emotion had been new. There had been a disconnection with anything remotely emotional until anger and rage had taken over towards the end.
Even his words had been fuelled by logic; it did look as if Malthrom was scared to come alone. He was being cowardly.
Was that what I was supposed to have been? He wondered as fresh water was placed before him. They wanted an emotionless killer, was that what happened back then?
His thoughts were interrupted by soft hands taking his and drying them with a soft cloth. Alystra was gentle with his raw skin.
"Stop now," she murmured. "They are clean."
"Then why does it feel as if I'm covered in rotting flesh?" Dumar asked.
"I do not know," the princess admitted. "Come, let us depart."
The ballroom was devoid of people with the exception of those poor souls tasked with getting rid of the corpses.
Dumar breathed shallowly, trying to avoid the stench as Alystra led him out through another door and towards the royal apartments.
The family sat there in shock, Waraval and the queen, Grethron and Fultard. The commander was apologising profusely to the queen and prince.
"If it means I am replaced, majesty, I will resign immediately," Fultard said.
"What?" Celouise asked in confusion. "Resign? Dawa, man, I forbid it! We have need of you now more than ever, Demanius," she said. "Just tighten things up as much as possible."
"But your majesty, I failed to protect any of you" Fultard said.
"Against necromancy," the queen pointed out. "You performed your duties to the fullest extent, commander," she added. "I do not hold you responsible in any way."
Her eyes fell on Dumar and Alystra as they entered and the queen shot to her feet, rushing across to grab her daughter in a tight hug.
"We were looking for you," she said.
"I was safe with Sir Dumar," Alystra said.
"Oh not all that again," Dumar groaned. "All the Sir and Lord rubbish. I'm still just Dumar. Please."
"It seems as if I need to thank you again, Sir Dumar," Celouise said, taking one of his hands.
She looked down but made no mention of the red, hot condition of his skin.
"You are rapidly becoming indispensable around here," the queen said, leading him to a chair.
Alystra followed closely and sat as close to Dumar as she was able.
"Greth, did you do anything to me in there?" Dumar asked the old man.
"No, of course not," Grethron assured him. "Why what is wrong?"
"Nothing now," Dumar replied. "But when I faced that...thing, fought Malthrom, it was different to other times I have fought."
"Different how, Dumar?" Warval asked as he patted Alystra's hand in a gentle greeting.
She looked at her brother gratefully.
"I was...empty. I didn't feel anything," he said. "When I killed the Dal it was...exhilarating, exciting, you know? Jumping over the wall and riding that thing, dodging and weaving, relying on instinct and training to kill it," he looked about, guilty over his enthusiasm.
"Tonight there was no emotion, I felt nothing. I knew he had to be stopped and I did but…" Dumar trailed off. "I dunno, it was just different," he added, keeping his suspicions about his origins to himself.
"Well I for one am glad you were there," Warval said. "And if anyone had a problem with your new title I am sure they will keep their mouths shut now."
"Yeah, what was all that?" Dumar asked. "It went pretty bloody quiet when you announced it."
"It is an ancient and noble title, Dumar," Grethron explained. "Passed down through birth to the firstborn of a monarch. The last Knight Protector was my brother, Jarhine."
A spike of shock cut through Dumar's chest then.
"But I wasn't even born on this planet," Dumar said. "Let alone into the royal family!"
"No," Celouise said sadly. "However, as both my husband and first born son are dead there is no one better to pass the title on to. No one begrudges you this, Dumar," she went on. "It was just a surprise announcement to them all."
Grethron nodded his approval and Dumar felt a little relief.
They sat in silence for a while, each with their own thoughts concerning the evening before Warval spoke.
"So. I might turn in for the night," he said. "Mother, sister," he said planting a small kiss on their cheeks. "Uncle," he said, Grethron raised his glass. "And you, Dumar," he added, shaking hands. "You have the freedom of Lorneria and the love and gratitude of all Rothmury," he said before leaving.
"Training tomorrow?" Dumar asked, wanting the normalcy of routine.
"Only if you wish to be beaten," Waraval said with a grin.
Celouise giggled and Grethron smiled.
"Look forward to it, your highness," Dumar said.
"As do I, Sir Knight," Warval cast over his shoulder.
Dumar realised he liked the prince, counted him as a friend of sorts. Their training sessions together had been rewarding for both and Dumar had gained satisfaction from seeing his student grow and gain new skills.
"I am wearied by the events tonight, also," Alystra stated. "Would you escort me to my rooms, Dumar?"
"Can do," Dumar said, standing.
He noticed a flash of something pass between Grethron and the queen but thought nothing of it as he turned, offering his arm to Alystra.
They walked the few dozen feet along the corridor, reaching Alystra's apartments in a minute or two.
"Goodnight, Alystra," Dumar said as he opened the door for her.
The princess, however, did not release his arm.
"Do not leave me," she begged in a tiny voice. "Not alone, not tonight."