He shrugged, his powerful shoulders rolling, the muscles in his back rippling. "Maybe. Yes. At the time we did. Now, as a warrior and seeing what has happened to our people, certainly the prince needed us to fight. The vampires were growing in numbers, and to protect our species as well as the others, our fighting skills were needed perhaps more than our brains."
He sighed as he looked down from the treetops. "When we first came here, you have to remember, there were few, almost no, people at all. We were alone, only occasionally pitting our skills against an enemy. Five of us with our emotions growing dim and the memory of our people and our homeland fading along with the colors around us. We thought that was bad. And then we began to face more and more old friends who had turned. Our lives as we had known them as Carpathians were long gone."
MaryAnn's teeth bit at her lower lip. "Did your prince give you a choice to leave the Carpathian Mountains? Or did he just send you?"
"We were given a choice. All warriors were told of what was to come and how we were needed. We could have stayed, but honor would never have allowed that. Our family was considered as having among the best fighting skills."
"But you could have," she said, persisting. "Your fighting skills must have been needed there as well."
"Considering what happened, yes," Manolito agreed.
For the first time he tasted bitterness on his tongue. They had agreed to go when the prince had put out the call to his oldest warriors, thinking, believing, the prince knew the future, knew what was best for his people. When the ranks thinned and their enemies moved in. the prince had aligned himself with humans. All had been lost when they had tried to protect their human allies.
Centuries later, now, when he could once again feel, he was still angry over that decision, still disagreeing and not understanding how Vlad could have made such a mistake. Had sentiment overruled reason? If so, no De La Cruz would ever make such a mistake.
"You're angry," she said, feeling the waves of his antagonism washing over her.
He turned around to lean his hip against the railing. "Yes. I had no idea I was angry with him, but yes, I am. After hundreds of years, I still blame the prince for going into a battle they couldn't win."
"You know that wasn't what decimated your people," she pointed out as gently as possible. "You said yourself, as young as you were, growing up, you noticed the lack of women, and babies weren't surviving then. The changes were already happening."
"No one wants to think their species is slated by nature, or by God, tor extinction."
"Is that what you think?"
"I do not know what I think, only what I would have done. And I would not have taken our people into that battle."
"How would the outcome have been any different?"
" Vlad would still be alive," Manolito said. "He would not be among the fallen. We would not be left adrift with so few women and children the sheer odds make it impossible to keep our people alive. Add to that our enemies, and we are lost."
"If you believe that, why did you save Mikhail's life? I heard about it, of course. Everyone was talking about what you did for him in the caves when he was attacked. If you don't believe he's capable of leading the Carpathian people, why risk your life for his? Why die for him? Especially if you had already seen me and knew you had a lifemate. Why would you bother?"
He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her from his superior height, a frown on his face. "It is my duty."
"Manolito, that is ridiculous. You aren't a man to blindly follow someone you don't believe in. You may have questioned your prince's decision, but you believed in him, and you must believe in his son or you would never have gone into battle with him, pledged your allegiance to him or given your life for his."
"I did much more than question my prince's decisions," he said.
She watched the shifting of shadows across his face, the flicker of torment in the depths of his eyes. Now they were getting somewhere. Now he was going to reveal his deepest guilt. She knew what he was going to say before he said it, because his mind was deeply merged with hers and she could see the guilt there, the fear that he had betrayed a prince he admired, deeply respected and even loved.
He didn't see it that way, and that fascinated her. He didn't realize how much he admired Vlad Dubrinsky and how upset he had been at the prince's ultimate defeat and death at the hands of their enemy. More importantly, he didn't realize that his anger was at himself, for going, for choosing to fight in a remote land for people who cared nothing for the Carpathians.
"I betrayed Vlad every time I sat down with my brothers and questioned his judgments and decisions. Riordan and I told you some of it earlier, but it was a very watered-down version of our talks. We made an art of it. Picking apart the prince's every command and examining it from every angle. We believed he should listen to us, that we knew more than he did."