Sex Rites

by Brandon Fox

  It took Ander’s eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim light inside the hall. The roof was some thirty feet high, supported by parallel rows of tree trunks that ran from the wood plank floor to joists overhead. A smoke hole was cut in the middle of the wooden shingle roof. Afternoon light streamed through the hole, dancing with motes, illuminating a long trestle table flanked with benches. Stones lined a rectangular fire pit sunk two feet deeper than the surrounding floor, and sleeping benches lined the building’s long walls. Leaf debris had drifted through the smoke hole, but otherwise the hall was reasonably clean.

  “Nothing fancy, but it’s only used for meals and sleeping,” Dannel said. “There’s a sweat lodge and washhouse not far from here. Also an exercise yard and a shed for firewood. Fishing’s good, and there’s a garden close by.”

  “Where do the hierophants stay during pilgrimages?” Ander asked.

  “In their tents, pitched at the courtyard before the Aerehoth Gate. With some guardians standing watch in case hungry animals come visiting.”

  Skorri was peering around the rustic hall with interest. “It’s a lot like Tapray, where Erik and I are from. Except the halls there are round. And not so clean.”

  “Why don’t you and Erik tend to the horses,” Thane said. “Dannel and Ander can try catching some fish while I start preparing the raffia bark. With luck it’ll be ready tomorrow.”

  After helping haul saddlebags inside, Dannel and Ander took fish spears and wicker baskets from a stack near the door and started for the lake. Evening was settling over the valley. The setting sun painted clouds with fiery hues of red and purple, and reflections in the lake turned the water into a marbled expanse of rosy colors. Flat rocks had been placed among the shallows as platforms for spear fishing. Speckled trout darted through the water, their violet mantles making them hard to spot among the cloud reflections.

  “Have you spear fished before?” Dannel asked as he tugged his shirt off. He tossed it on the bank, then started across the rocks until he reached a broad stone a dozen yards from the shore.

  “No,” Ander said. “I’m from Pella. The river there runs fast and deep. We fished with traps and nets.”

  “It’s not hard. Try to spear them through the sides. Then you can pin the fish to the bottom by pushing your spear upright and forcing it into the mud. Watch first. And take your shirt off if you want to keep it dry.”

  Dannel stood motionless, feet wide apart, holding his spear with one hand at the end and the other hand near the middle, angling the prongs down sharply.

  Ander didn’t have to wait long. In less than a minute, Dannel’s spear flashed down. He leaned into it and pushed it upright, then looked at Ander. “See? Nothing to it.” He reached into the cold water to grab the fish, then jerked the spear out of the mud and held up his prize. The trout flapped vigorously, like a pennant in the breeze.

  Ander took off his shirt and mimicked the way Dannel had stood, trying to feel the balance of his fourteen-foot willow spear with its hardwood prongs lashed to the end.

  “Feet wider apart,” Dannel said.

  Ander complied and found he was able to lean further over the water. He kept as still as he could, waiting for a fish to pass within his spear’s reach, quivering with anticipation and staring at the water intently. At last a fish swam into the passage between the rock he was standing on and the next. He jabbed with the spear and staggered forward a step, barely catching his balance before tumbling into the water. The trout darted away untouched, further away than he had thought.

  “Try again,” Dannel said. “It takes practice.”

  Ander resumed his stance, feeling awkward. The water played tricks with light and distances, but he thought he could adjust for it. Muscles began to feel the strain as time passed and tension increased. Where did all the fish go? Did I warn them off? He stared harder, leaning closer to the water. Warm flesh suddenly touched his right hand. He jerked back and twisted his head.

  Dannel stood behind him. He had moved as silently as Erik on a hunt. “You need to relax,” he said. He stood behind Ander, reaching around him and grasping the spear so their hands were side by side. His broad chest pressed against Ander’s back; his breath was warm on Ander’s cheek. “You’re tense. It will make you rush. Hold the spear with me and see how I time it.”

  Ander turned his attention back to the water. The warm press of Dannel’s body against his back, as intimate as an embrace, was a surprise. He pushed the thought aside and focused on how his instructor shifted the spear’s angle, how he radiated a sense of calm, and tried to imitate him. Time seemed to slow. A fish swam past, but Dannel didn’t even tense. Ander took a deep breath and began to sense the slow beat of Dannel’s heart. It’s like music. The pauses are as important as striking the right notes. Quiet joy filled him as the new perspective settled in. His muscles relaxed.

  “Good,” Dannel whispered. “Stay like that.”

  Soon another fish approached the rock where they stood. Ander remained calm, grasping the spear lightly with Dannel’s hands next to his own. He followed the movements when the swift plunge finally came, feeling the rightness of the timing and the easy economy of motion. As they leaned forward to pin the fish, Dannel’s left arm wrapped around his chest to compensate for the weight behind him. The embrace was fleeting.

  “Yours to fetch,” Dannel said, releasing both Ander and the spear. “Keep it pinned until you’ve grabbed it.”

  Ander retrieved the fish, not minding the cold water in the least. “You’re a good teacher,” he said as he held up the trout.

  Dannel turned to hop back to the rock where he had left his spear, but Ander could easily see the reason for his hasty retreat. He was powerfully aroused. Yielding to physical contact had not come easily to him.

  “We need to finish before it gets dark,” Dannel said. He picked up his spear and turned away from Ander. In moments he caught another fish.

  Ander devoted his attention to their task. By the time the sun touched the ridge surrounding the valley, they had enough trout for a hearty dinner. They carried their catch to a sluiceway built of ancient stone blocks and started to clean the fish.

  Dannel worked with downcast eyes, and the silence grew strained. Ander could see the tight set of his jaw. The contrast with his earlier ease was stark. They finished their work and washed their hands, taking their time and watching the sunset’s fading glory.

  At last Ander couldn’t stand his companion’s discomfort any longer. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, you know,” he said softly. “I understand how you feel. I used to be shy myself. But nobody in Thane’s band thinks twice about somebody getting hard. It happens all the time.”

  Dannel turned, at last meeting Ander’s gaze. He swallowed, then nodded. “I…. It’s just that….” He took a shuddering breath and put down the shirt he had been drying his hands on. He rocked back and sat cross-legged, looking down.

  Ander felt only sympathy. Until becoming an initiate at the lyceum, he had felt the same anxiety around people he didn’t know well. It had kept him from becoming a companion despite the constant inquiries and generous offers Lady Tayanita had received from customers who craved his attentions.

  “You’ll get over it, I promise,” Ander said. “You already know what Skorri and Erik are like. They’re irresistible and always eager for a tumble. They won’t let your modesty linger. And wait until you meet my friends Sorel and Nicolai, back in Izmir. Two stallions, only a year older than you and they already know more about love than the most experienced companion in the kingdom. My friend Leif is an initiate now, and I think you’ll like him a lot. And then there’s Thane.” His expression was filled with tenderness. “Making love with Thane is like touching the sun, the stars. You’ll be changed forever. I was.”

  Dannel was transfixed. “You wouldn’t mind? If Thane and I were together?”

  “I’d be glad. Love is what we’re all about, Dannel. It’s what binds us, what makes the art possible. It forges bonds b
etween us and makes us closer than we’ve ever been with anyone. You can’t imagine how lucky you are to have found Thane.”

  Dannel gazed at him as if spellbound. At last he found his voice. “Thane said he was going to prepare the bark we collected today. To make an oil that might help overcome the firestone’s spell. Do you think he’ll want me to use it with… with one of you?”

  “I suppose so. How else would we know if it’s working?”

  Dannel took a deep breath, looking briefly toward the heavens as if seeking inspiration. His sensual features were more beautiful than ever in the soft light of dusk. When he lowered his gaze from the skies, a trick of the light made his eyes glisten with unnatural intensity. “You’ve told me of your friends’ prowess. What about you, Ander? Would Thane mind…?”

  For a moment his old reticence surged, an echo of the doubt he heard in Dannel’s voice. Then he remembered how Thane had eased his fears when he’d first arrived at the lyceum. And there was no denying Dannel’s appeal. Few companions in Izmir could have equaled him, and the innocence of his unspoken question revealed a sensitive spirit hiding beneath the wary reserve.

  “You have nothing to fear,” Ander repeated. “Thane rejoices in love. And he knows my heart. We’re bonded for life.” He reached forward and touched Dannel’s cheek, a fleeting caress. “Would you share a kiss with me? Only if you want to.”

  The yearning in Dannel’s eyes left no question as to his answer. Ander moved to his side. Dannel watched him as if unable to move, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. Slowly, Ander brought their lips together and gently put a hand behind his head, enmeshing fingers in the black curls. Dannel’s soft groan was almost a whimper. His lips parted, and he pressed forward eagerly. Ander felt the hesitant touch of a hand on the bare skin of his torso.

  He took the light caress as a sign that all was well and leaned forward without breaking the kiss, easing Dannel onto his back. He moved his other hand behind Dannel’s head and cradled it as their lips and bodies pressed together urgently and Dannel wrapped him in a strong embrace. When he felt the tension begin to ebb, he broke the kiss and lifted his head. “Are you all right? You wanted to, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Dannel whispered. His eyes were filled with wonder, and his heart hammered beneath Ander’s chest. “Can we share another?”

  Ander answered by renewing the kiss. Hesitancy was forgotten as Dannel’s confidence grew. He put his right hand on Dannel’s chest. The skin was hot, the muscle beneath it solid. His hand slid lower, caressing the lean torso and drifting lightly over ribs. Dannel was trembling.

  Ander broke the kiss enough to speak. “Don’t fear.” He continued the gentle caress. “I’ll stop whenever you want.”

  Dannel nodded, breathing hard. The trust in his eyes was like a child’s, coming from his core.

  Ander kissed him on the cheek fleetingly, then brought their lips together again. Their tongues began to explore, first Ander’s and then Dannel’s as his inhibitions burned away. Ander’s right hand shifted lower. He felt hard muscle contract as one finger dipped into the tight navel and stroked it gently. Dannel’s body curled from the ground where he lay, partially covered by Ander’s, but there was no protest. Instead his tongue slipped into Ander’s mouth and began to explore with fevered intensity.

  At last Ander’s hand moved lower, until it rested against the soft leather at Dannel’s crotch. A long mound stretched the pants tight beneath his fingers. He rubbed it gently, moving his hand in small circles. The garment prevented his touch from triggering the firestone’s spell and overpowering Dannel’s body, but it seemed his own passions were likely to have the same result at any moment. Reluctantly, Ander pulled away. Dannel gasped as they broke contact.

  “A good start,” Ander said. He gave Dannel a fleeting kiss and then rolled to the side. Night was falling, and the air was cooling quickly as the last traces of sunset faded. “Soon we’ll do more. Thane can defeat the spell that binds you, don’t doubt it.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Dannel said, pushing himself upright. “I’ve never been happier, or more confused. Or harder.”

  “You’re going to fit right in,” Ander assured him. He slipped his shirt over his head, then picked up his fish basket and spear. “Let’s see if they’ve got a fire started. I’m ready for dinner.”

  SMOKE was curling from the vent in the lodge’s roof by the time they returned. Warmth enveloped them when they went inside.

  Erik and Skorri were collecting hot coals from the fire, and Thane was using the table to prepare ingredients for the oil he hoped would dissipate the firestone’s energy. Earthenware dishes were strewn about, filled with shredded bark and bits of other plants, and Thane was using a knife to cut slits in a water skin to use as a filter.

  He looked up and waved happily when he saw Ander. “This will be easier than I thought. There’s a cooking pot and other tools I can use. There’s even a hatchet; it’s perfect for chopping up raffia bark. See?” He picked up a wooden bowl and displayed a pile of fine brown splinters.

  “We were lucky too,” Ander said, holding up his basket. “Dannel taught me how to spear fish.”

  “Erik could have taught you that,” Skorri said. “He can even catch fish with his bare hands.” Erik ruffled his partner’s golden curls but said nothing. He looked relaxed and content beside the log fire, like a sleek cat. Ander joined them at the fire pit and helped them spread the coals. A pile of small stones was already on hand, perfect for layering on the coals to make a rock broiler.

  Dannel placed his basket by the fire, then went to watch Thane. “Can I help?” he asked.

  “Almost done. I’ve been thinking about this, though. Dispelling the anima might not be enough. You respond so quickly to the spell, you might come before we can dissipate the power. We’re more likely to succeed if we can slow your reactions.”

  Dannel sat across from Thane, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward. “How? Wine makes you slow, but we don’t have any wine or even ale.”

  “Other things work too. Dream smoke leaves, juice squeezed from certain berries, even some spells. We don’t have many supplies, but we’ve got enough to make an elixir.”

  “When can we try? Soon, I hope.”

  Thane laughed. “I don’t blame you. You’ve been celibate far too long.”

  The smell of sizzling fish soon seized their attention. They gathered around the fire, sharing fish and nuts and passing around a water skin. The fare was plain, but to Ander nothing had ever tasted better. The distance from home faded from his mind, and contentment filled him. Thane’s happiness warmed him more than any fine meal or luxurious surroundings.

  After they had eaten their fill, they threw a few more logs on the fire and watched flames dance. Ander brought out his guitar and played old ballads from Pella, slow and melodic tunes, dispensing with the bravura techniques that dazzled audiences. Erik, who was sitting behind Skorri with his arms wrapped loosely around his partner’s chest, began to sing softly. His clear voice was perfectly true to pitch, masculine yet gentle in tone. Ander’s heart squeezed at the beauty of his sensitive singing. Though he could have performed in the finest courts, Ander knew the thought would never have entered Erik’s head. The hunter’s spirit belonged in the forest, not in palaces. Skorri nestled in his lover’s arms while Thane and Dannel listened with faraway looks on their faces.

  Ander played as long as Erik would sing, but as time passed, the fire ebbed and Skorri nodded off. Erik held him tenderly, falling silent and gazing into the fire, once again a silent creature of the woods.

  Ander laid his guitar aside and reached for Thane’s hand. No words were needed. They retired to one of the sleeping benches along the wall and curled together beneath a shared blanket. Dannel stretched out where he was near the fire, and Erik continued to hold his slumbering partner. Sleep claimed Ander quickly.

  Chapter Nine

  A BIRDCALL roused Ander from pleasant dreams. He stretched, warm be
neath his blanket, then started when he realized nobody was at his side. He yawned and opened his eyes.

  Thane was sitting at the lodge’s long table with a scroll unrolled before him. A golden sphere hung over his shoulder and cast soft light over the tabletop. Ander got up and joined him. “Been working long?” he asked. He noticed that Erik and Skorri were still sleeping soundly, but Dannel was absent.

  “Oh… a few hours, I guess. I woke up with an idea about this language and had to try it out.”

  A corner of Ander’s mouth quirked, but he said nothing. There was a time when Thane had immersed himself in work to escape grief. Now, though deep wounds caused by Lucian’s death had begun to heal, the exhausting habits remained. His keen mind couldn’t find rest for long.

  “Well?” Ander asked. “Any luck?” He rubbed the back of Thane’s neck, feeling the tension stored there. He suspected his partner had worked most of the night.

  Thane rolled his head back and forth as the massage loosened tight muscles. “I can’t be sure.” He pointed at a row of symbols inscribed across the scroll, including several jagged dots that suggested stars. “I noticed these symbols and started wondering if they refer to seasons or calendars. If they do, I could look for patterns. From there I could start guessing words, try to piece things together.”

  Ander shook his head, marveling at his lover’s optimism as much as his resourcefulness. “Does it? Fit together, I mean?”

  Thane turned and looked up. “Some of it, maybe. I think this one’s about the moon’s phases. Other patterns are part of a numbering system. It looks complicated. But the way this is laid out, I suspect some of the scrolls in the archive are designed to teach the language. It will help if we can find the ones meant for beginners.”

  A door opened on the far wall, and Dannel entered. He was breathing hard, and his shirtless torso dripped with sweat. He waved, then took a drink from a water skin.