by M. D. Grimm
Lance held up a hand, and Gust pressed his lips together. In a finger snap, Lance was different. He was still, listening to something Gust couldn’t hear. Then Gust did hear it and wished he hadn’t. A full-throated roar split the air as an enormous bear thundered out from seemingly nowhere. What was a bear that size doing this far south? And so intent on attacking them? Didn’t matter.
Gust sprang up and grabbed his bow and quickly nocked an arrow.
“Run Lance!” He let the arrow fly. It hit the bear’s shoulder and only enraged the beast. The bear rose onto his back legs, large paws swatting the air. It roared again, easily twice as big as either of them. Gust tried to keep his heart under control and not to panic. He nocked another arrow just as Lance let out a shrill whistle that made Gust grimace.
What was that for?
The bear turned to Lance, and Gust let the second arrow fly. It pierced the bear’s neck, and yet its hide was so thick, it probably felt like no more than a bee sting.
“Run Lance! By the gods get out of here!”
The bear lowered to all fours again and charged Gust. Heart in his throat, he quickly nocked another arrow, trying not to recognize the futility of the act. Gods, what he wouldn’t give for some hunting hounds! Or a sword.
Before he could aim the third arrow, he was hit with something akin to a boulder. It wasn’t though. And it wasn’t the bear.
It was Lance.
With the air knocked out of him, Gust couldn’t speak or curse. Lance covered him entirely with his body, Gust’s back to Lance’s chest, his upper body safely enveloped by Lance’s arms. That meant Lance was exposed to the bear.
No.
Gust struggled and nearly lost control of his bowels when Lance jerked and screamed in pain. Nononono….
Batsa help us!
As if in answer to his plea, a shriek filled the air and thunderous hooves charged straight at them. Gust struggled to see but Lance’s arms blocked his view. All he heard was scuffling, snorting, growling, and whinnying. It took him a moment for his panic to subside long enough to understand what had just happened.
Brutus.
Lance’s whistle.
But what hope did a horse have against a bear? Even a divine horse?
Then it was over. The bear roared again before lumbering away, rustling with fury through the foliage. Then all Gust heard was Brutus snorting and stomping his hoof, and Lance’s shallow breathing. Oh gods, Lance!
This time when Gust pushed away, Lance surrendered. He crawled out from under Lance and gasped. Their surroundings looked like a battlefield. Torn and gouged earth, cracked trees, blood. Brutus trotted over to them, looking no worse for the wear. He snorted in indignation and tossed his head haughtily. Then he whinnied softly and mouthed Lance’s hair. Gust finally focused on Lance, and the urge to vomit came over him. He beat it back.
Four long, deep slices marred Lance’s left shoulder blade, though not deep enough to hit bone. Blood soaked him, growing in a pool underneath. Gust realized some of that blood was on him. Tears sprung to Gust’s eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. They weren’t any use here.
“You idiot,” Gust said, choking on the words.
Lance murmured something. Gust leaned down close to his face.
“What? Lance, what did you say?”
Cracking open his eyes, Lance met Gust’s gaze. “Protect you.” Then he passed out.
Gust’s lip trembled before he forced it still. He hurried to his pack and knew he didn’t have all the supplies he needed. Maybe they would be enough to hold him until they returned to Thebys. Brutus continued to nuzzle Lance’s head as Gust cut away the rest of his shirt, and went to work on the wounds. He managed to staunch the bleeding and stitch up the severed skin. His hands were coated with blood once more.
“I’m not losing you,” he murmured. “Anknet can’t have you yet. Please goddess, not yet. I saved him once, help me save him again. I can’t lose another one. Not him. Not him.”
Brutus kept watch. He walked a circuit around them both, frequently nuzzling Lance, snorting and swishing his tail. It helped that Gust wasn’t alone in his fight to save Lance’s life. Brutus was divine, and he needed whatever help he could get. If Brutus could keep Lance alive for nearly two weeks as he made his way south, then he could assist this time as well.
Gust didn’t have the sacred ink with him but he was confident Lance would last long enough to reach the healing hut. He brushed hair away from Lance’s face and checked his pulse. Steady and yet faint. He leaned down close.
“Stay with me, my friend. Keep fighting, warrior.” Gust stood. “Brutus! I need to put him on your back. May I ride you?”
In answer, Brutus lowered, making his back within easy reach. Gust tried to be gentle but Lance was heavy, and he needed to hurry. He set Lance on Brutus’s back before quickly gathering their things and mounting the horse. He was worried at first, and then Brutus rose as if he didn’t have two fully grown men on his back. Gust carefully drew Lance back against his chest and reached around him to grab fistfuls of Brutus’s mane.
“Quickly!”
Brutus hurried in a canter, and Gust tried to keep his head. He took deep breaths, which he quickly found were filled with Lance’s scent. That soft, blond hair brushed his face, and he had a wild urge to press his face against the strands. Foolish.
They reached Thebys shortly, and Brutus took them right to the healing hut. The community was in full swing, and their passage was noticed, alarm on every face.
Gust swung off Brutus and had to catch Lance as he slipped off. Gust grunted, his legs trembling as he did his best to ease Lance to the ground.
“Heqet! Sabra! Ata! Someone help!”
He kept calling their names. It was Kissa who came out. Her eyes shot wide, and she quickly took Lance’s feet as Gust held him under his arms. They carried Lance inside and laid him on the bed in his sick room. They rolled him onto his back, and Kissa quickly crushed the ink without a word. With trembling hands, Gust washed the blood off his skin and tried to ignore his trembling hands. Low grade nausea still tickled the back of his throat but he refused to indulge in weakness.
Kissa skillfully painted the symbols across Lance’s shoulder, over and around his wounds. They were red and swollen. Despite Gust’s best efforts, infection was already setting in. Kissa said the divine word, and Gust held his breath. It was a painful minute before the ink disappeared, and Gust hung his head in relief, gripping the edge of the table. He finally took deep, refreshing breaths and gave into his trembling legs. He sat on the floor and leaned back against the wall.
Kissa cleaned the wounds again before drawing up a blanket. Lance slept peacefully and Gust couldn’t stop the tears any longer. They fell silently as he covered his mouth.
Kissa turned to him finally and knelt in front of him. She cupped his cheek.
“What happened, my love?”
Haltingly, he told her. She crushed him to her chest and rocked them both. He clung to her, reliving that moment again and again.
“Bless him,” she whispered. “Bless him.”
Much later Gust reassured Brutus that Lance was all right and kept the windows open so they could both keep vigil over him. Gust moved his chair to the window and propped his bare feet on the corner of the bed again. Brutus nuzzled Gust a few times, easing his anxiety.
“He saved my life.”
Brutus nickered.
“He was literally willing to sacrifice his life for mine. That bear would have torn him to pieces if you hadn’t come along. Or if you’d been even a moment later. He gambled his life because he trusted you, and he wanted to protect me.” Gust turned his head. “You saved my life, too. Thank you, Brutus.”
The stallion caught the end of one of his braids in his lips and tugged playfully. Gust leaned forward and kissed his nose. Brutus made a funny noise and looked away as if he was embarrassed.
“Batsa certainly blessed you. I am eternally grateful.” He wondered how long it woul
d take for news to travel.
Lance groaned.
Gust was out of his chair in an instant and knelt by the bed. He smoothed hair away from Lance’s face.
“Lance?”
Lance scrunched up his nose before opening his eyes. He stared at Gust for a long moment before sighing. “You’re all right.”
Gust let out a soft laugh. He stroked Lance’s cheek. “All thanks to you and your magnificent horse. Thank you.”
Lance smiled. “I promised myself I would protect you.”
“Why?”
“You’re a healer. The world is better with you in it.”
Deeply touched and close to tears again, Gust rested his cheek on Lance’s head, carefully wrapping an arm across the uninjured portions of his back.
“I think the world is better with you in it as well.”
Lance said nothing, and Gust got the impression that he didn’t agree.
“Go back to sleep,” Gust whispered. “Brutus and I will watch over you.”
He pulled back and Lance gripped his hand.
“You saved me again too, you know.”
“Fair is fair,” Gust said, smiling.
“Now I have to save your life one more time before we’re even, I think.”
Gust shook his head. “Friends don’t keep score.”
Lance looked shocked. Then he smiled and the warmth was the same as when he gazed at Brutus. Gust lost his breath. How could a man be so damn beautiful?
“Friend,” Lance whispered. He caught Gust’s hand and tucked it under his chin before closing his eyes, that smile still on his face.
Gust stayed kneeling, staring at this strange man that had galloped bruised and broken into his life. How beautiful and heart-aching was it that the simplest gesture of kindness and respect was met with such fierce emotion? Such intense joy? It could only allude to a dark and deprived childhood.
Gust swallowed hard and carefully took his hand back.
“I’ll protect you, too, Lance,” he whispered. “I promise.”
Chapter Twelve
It was during the bear attack that Lance realized what his new purpose in life could be. Protection. Protecting Gust felt right. It felt good. Despite the agony of being ripped at by a bear, the knowledge that Gust was all right, not even scratched, was reward enough. He’d known Brutus would come for them; he’d just needed to protect Gust until he arrived. It had worked. His plan had worked. He also didn’t doubt Gust’s skill as a healer, and it was that trust, in both Brutus and Gust, that solidified his plan. Gust had told him to run but Lance wasn’t someone who avoided danger. Especially not when those he cared about needed him. Before Gust, it had only been Brutus. But now….
A friend.
His friend.
Lance smiled and opened his eyes. He ached and felt stiff all over, and yet his heart was also light, and his thoughts not so dark anymore. That felt great.
“Oh, you’re up.”
Lance carefully twisted around and spotted Kissa. She was mixing herbs into a drink. She glanced at him.
“I wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for what you did to protect Gust. He’s all the family I have left, you know. I can’t lose him. You and that grand horse of yours protected my heart, and I am very grateful.”
Her gratitude warmed him. He was glad someone else cared for Gust. He deserved to be cared about.
“You’re welcome.”
She helped him sit up and gave him a goblet of slightly purple water.
“Drink up and take it easy. I’ll get your breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
She patted his head before leaving. He sipped the drink and gazed longingly out the window. He didn’t want to be bedbound again. Not after so soon indulging in freedom. It was a small price to pay, really, to know Gust still walked in the world.
It wasn’t long before trotting met his ears, and then Brutus poked his head inside.
“There you are.” He rubbed Brutus’s nose. Brutus closed his eyes and leaned closer. “You did good. Taught that bear a lesson, didn’t you?”
Brutus whinnied softly.
Lance chuckled and rested his forehead against Brutus’s neck. He gingerly stood and relieved himself in the chamber pot before tugging on the new tunic left on the chair Gust had occupied. His skin was tight across his shoulder, and he was a little dizzy. He sat on the bed again, wishing it wasn’t so soft. He was surprised he kept sleeping so well on it. Maybe it was because Gust was often with him when he did.
Kissa came back with oatmeal, buttered biscuits, and slices of fruit. He wanted meat but ate what he was given without complaint.
“Since I see you are bound and determined to get out of this room today, I need you to be careful. You lost a lot of blood and your muscles are still torn and need to knit back together. You are in need of rest. Take naps. Eat well and drink plenty of water. You would do my nephew ill if you make him worry again.”
Her words stopped him. He didn’t want to do anything that might distress Gust.
“I will take it slow,” he said. “Where is Gust?”
“Getting some rest. He stayed with you all night and only after I badgered and shoved him away did he finally lay down. Stay near the healing hut. Someone is always in attendance.”
He nodded.
She took his tray when he was finished with the food, and he sat a moment after she left before standing. He grabbed a brush out of his bag and shuffled his way out of the healing hut, and Brutus was there to greet him with undisguised glee.
It was early morning still and most of the people were barely starting to stir. He brushed his horse, the familiar action calming him, and he reassured himself that Brutus was, indeed, all right. Not even a scratch from the bear. It wasn’t the first time Brutus had saved him from a wild animal. Although, before it had been a large snake, one that constricted. Brutus neatly stomped on the thing until it slithered off, wounded and angry.
Maged stopped by to offer Brutus part of an apple, and Lance was glad Brutus had made his own friends. He’d met Maged briefly days ago when he’d returned Lance’s things, and Lance gave him a friendly nod.
“You have a magnificent beast,” Maged said in Taris.
Brutus flipped his head and snorted, as if in agreement.
“He’s the best,” Lance said, still brushing.
“I just heard from Jabi, my nephew, that you had quite the exciting day yesterday while hunting for deer.”
Lance grunted, not sure if he should say anything. “What did he tell you?”
“Well, a lot of people saw you and Gust riding back into town but you didn’t look so great. Lots of blood. Jabi saw your wounds and said they looked like claw marks.”
Lance met Maged’s gaze. He only recognized curiosity and concern. The tension in his shoulders eased.
“It was a bear. It tried to kill Gust. Brutus and I didn’t allow it.”
Brutus snorted in agreement.
Maged patted his shoulder. Lance winced.
“Sorry. You’re a good lad. Anytime you want to come around the tavern, I’ll buy you a pint. I hope to see you at the festival.”
With a smile, he left. Lance watched him go. This town was full of all sorts of people, both kind and petty, generous and selfish. It fascinated him. All the people part of Ulfr’s warband had been equally horrible, greedy, cruel, and selfish. Even the bard that had taught him his letters and a little bit of history had been an abusive drunk. Lance had received a smack or two in the face when he had asked one too many questions in the evenings.
Lance rubbed his cheek at the memory.
The thought of Ulfr darkened his spirits. How long could he push his good fortune? Ulfr might come for him tomorrow or the next day. Or this very day for all he knew. Ulfr was relentless. Lance swallowed, knowing he was putting this town in danger if he stayed. If he left, he had to find Ulfr immediately to save the town, to save Gust, from Ulfr’s wrath. Yet it was Gust that made him want to stay
. It was Ally, Kissa, and even Maged. They were kind.
“But would they be my friends if they knew who I am?” he whispered to Brutus, who flicked his ear and stamped his hoof.
“Hey. You.”
Lance looked over Brutus’s back. He’d seen the man approaching and had hoped he’d continue on by. No such luck. Brutus tensed and that put Lance on alert.
A tall, broad man walked closer, eyeing them both. “I got a proposal for you,” he said in Taris. “You look like a man in need of some money. How much for the horseflesh?”
Brutus’s ears flattened, and he braced himself, lowering his head the way a bull might. The tall man stopped abruptly and clenched his jaw.
“My horse isn’t for sale.” Lance laid a hand on Brutus’s back to keep him still. “And it appears he doesn’t like you. Please leave.”
“This is my town, stranger,” the man spat. “Maybe you and your psycho horse better get out before something bad happens to you.”
“Would you give it a rest, Bakari?”
Lance exhaled slowly when Gust stepped up beside him.
“Lance saved my life, and you want to be rude? Move along.”
Flushing, fists clenched, Bakari gave them both a savage look before stalking away. Brutus eased up when Bakari disappeared from sight. A few people beyond them immediately found something to do and looked away.
“Good morning,” Gust said dryly.
“Morning.”
Brutus nickered.
“Have you had breakfast?” Gust asked.
Lance nodded.
“Good. Let’s continue our tour. It’s best if we do it now since the festival starts tomorrow afternoon. All the shops will be closed so everyone can enjoy it. Follow me.”
Happily, Lance did what he was told. They fell into step with Brutus trailing behind.
“I need to stop by the apothecary,” Gust said. “My aunt gave me a list.” He held up a long piece of parchment, showing neat, swirly handwriting that was so tiny and precise, Lance squinted to read it.
“Don’t bother.” Gust laughed. “Only the apothecary, Imtep, can read my aunt’s writing. They’ve worked together for years.”
