Light from Aphelion 2 - Tears of Winter

by Martine Carlsson

  Louis chuckled and caressed the sides of Selen’s head with his hands. “No, of course. But I have more for you. Open your mouth. I know you were curious.”

  Selen opened his mouth slightly. The ice bit crossed his lips. It wasn’t ice, and it tasted…sweet. “Frozen grape? How?”

  Louis laughed. “Did you look outside?” He kissed him. “I have something more for you to taste. It took me a while to find it. Open your mouth.”

  Louis’s hand cupped the back of his head and raised it a bit for a kiss. As his friend’s lips opened, a thick liquid dripped into his mouth. The taste exploded on his tongue. It was a hundred times sweeter than sugar. His heart beat faster. His breath increased for each drop he swallowed. As if the flavor itself could lead him to a full arousal. Forgetting the rules, Selen let his hands go and grabbed the back of Louis’s head, holding him while he sucked the inside of his mouth. Louis pushed him backwards.

  “Stop.” Louis chuckled. “You don’t need to eat me.”

  “What was that?” Selen asked all excited. He put his hands back in place.

  “Chocolate. There is more, but it is as bad for your health as sugar. Can you turn around?”

  Why are all good things in this world bad for the health? Selen wondered. He swiveled and lay down on his abdomen. Carefully, Louis brushed back his hair while his lean legs vised the sides of Selen’s hips. Something warm with a strong smell of coconut dripped on his back. Oil. Selen laid his head on his folded arms and waited with expectation. With both hands, Louis spread the oil over his back and massaged him from his shoulders to the top of his bottom. Selen purred with pleasure as the fingers kneaded every inch of muscle. Every time the hands reached his hips, he craved more. However, he knew now what moving meant. Therefore, he waited patiently, letting tension rise in his loins. After a while, Louis bent over his back.

  “You’re trembling. Maybe you should turn around again.”

  Louis did not need to ask twice. Selen twisted back in place while Louis still stood over him. Selen waited for the oil to flow on him, but instead, cold liquid poured over his body. A strong odor of spiced wine engulfed him. It made him laugh.

  “Now the sofa is ruined.”

  “I don’t care,” Louis said, laughing. “It’s not even blue.”

  Louis lay down on top of him, took his face between his greasy hands, and kissed him passionately, filling his mouth with his tongue. It still tasted sweet. Selen felt the love flow from his friend and regretted he could not hug him back. Louis’s body was naked. His erection rubbed clumsily against his. A finger on his mouth reminded him to stay silent. Louis’s mouth grabbed his throat and grazed down his body, licking him, nibbling at his skin, and pulling at his aroused nipples. Louis’s tongue trailed down to his groin. The lips carefully avoided his length and kept on moving down to his balls. Louis’s hands slipped under his bottom and firmly held his cheeks open. For every lick, every sucking, or bold kiss on the most sensitive parts between his thighs, Selen’s sweaty hands clenched tighter. His frustration culminated, but Louis took his time. The perfume of coconut came back. The warm oil trickled on his loins. Wet hands massaged his balls, and fingers slid over his length. They closed on the head, the thumb grazing his frenulum, snatching a squeak from his lips. Selen expected Louis’s generous lips around him. Instead, Louis sat astride him and slowly straddled him. The rapturing pressure on his member took Selen’s breath away. It wasn’t a position he would have agreed to. He heard how Louis sipped air and tried to hold back his moans. Selen knew he waited for his body to adjust itself before he moved. When his friend rocked his hips, Selen’s heart hastened. Louis changed rhythm, deliberately slowing down when he shouldn’t have. One of Louis’s hands caressed his face. The fingers grazed Selen’s lips, and he took them into his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue around the sensitive pulp. They tasted of coconut oil and ginger juice. It was beyond good, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to reproduce it without the blindfold. He knew the kind of shivers that were running up and down his friend’s spine. Louis would be a mess to see right now, like a fragile, shell-less being displaying bare emotions on his face. A role Selen could assume himself. But he wouldn’t see it on Louis. A trembling hand took a hold on his chest. Just as he wondered if he would have to hold back, Louis moved away.

  Selen swore in his mind. This was torture. The massage on his loins resumed. This time, one finger pushed its way inside his tight entrance. Then a second one slipped in. They rubbed and pressed on the right spot. With the oil, Selen felt no pain. His loins were a pool of fire. Shivers rippled through his body. His heart raced. Do not stop this time, please. His hips wiggled, his muscles contracted around the fingers, and his pleasure built with each bolt running through his limbs and to his brain. His body would not stop shaking with spasms. His moans were loud and unrestrained. Tensed up as he was, it would not be long before he released himself. Louis removed his fingers. Selen wanted to slap him, but his friend placed himself between his legs, lifted his hips up, and pushed his swollen member inside him, the head stroking where the fingers had been. His fingers clenched into his cheeks, Louis ground inside him ardently, the bones of his hips ramming against Selen’s bottom. Judging by Louis’s ecstatic moans, he would not last long either. One of Louis’s hands left his bottom and stroked his throbbing organ before squeezing up his foreskin. As he felt himself squirt, Selen arched. His brain melted and exploded in wild screams. His climax was so long and intense that he lost all sensation in his legs. His mind was gone. When he regained consciousness, the insides of his thighs were soaking wet, and Louis’s tongue skimmed over his chest.

  “Are you cleaning me?” Selen breathed, panting.

  “You made a real mess of yourself, like…a lot,” Louis chuckled.

  Something metallic fell in the room. At the sound, all the fears and bad memories crept back inside Selen, and he sat up straight.

  “Is there someone else here?” he asked in panic.

  The blindfold fell from his eyes. He looked around quickly but saw only his friend.

  “No,” Louis said. He placed his hand on the side of Selen’s cheek, forcing him to stare into his eyes. “I will never share you with anyone else.” There was something deeply serious in his gaze and in his voice that gave Selen a chill. “Never.” The spark in his eyes matched the glow of the fire reflected in his loop earring.

  It was the second time Selen had doubted of his friend for no reason. Embarrassed, he lowered his eyes. His body was a mess of all the different fluids. It made him smile. Louis got up.

  “Come. I had prepared a bath.” Louis stepped towards a large tub near the fire.

  Selen rose but fell down on the floor. He chuckled. “I can’t use my legs.” Warm, sticky drops trickled down his shivering thighs. With his hand, he wiped away the seed before it reached the carpet-littered floor. He wanted that bath.

  Louis came back and gently took hold of him. “I hope you can’t feel your brain either,” Louis whispered warmly.

  His friend helped him reach the tub and sat with him in the warm water. Selen was exhausted. He laid his head against Louis’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispered. His body had never been that numb. The relaxing, hot water drove him to slumber. He realized that, for a while, he had forgotten everything; all the problem they had and the danger looming above their heads. Now, staring at the fire in Louis’s angular arms, he felt peaceful and happy again. Had this room been made for such kind of pleasures?

  “Louis, why do you hate this room?”

  “It is a blatant symbol of flabbiness and idleness. Every time I see this place, I remember what kind of parasites those nobles are. The slums exist so that rooms like this can be created… For the filth those depraved sick do in it. And they dare call it philosophy.”

  “But we just…”

  “No. It’s not comparable. This is usually no place of love but of debauchery, like what they did in your period with the tortures and orgies. I only wanted to pl
ease you.” Louis caressed his hair and brushed it behind his ear. A drop of water trickled from Louis’s fingers along his jaw. “I can do it again. But not here. For me, it would not be less enjoyable on a cavern ground as long as it’s with you.”

  “For me too,” Selen whispered. Under the water, he clutched Louis’s hand on his chest over his heart. “I love you, Louis.” He closed his eyes.

  10

  One among thousands, Selen repeated to himself. When he had learned that Kilda’s baby had died, he had gone for a walk to clear his mind. She and Josselin had proposed him to assist with the ceremony, but Selen did not have the heart to see the little corpse on its funeral pyre. There were limits to what his soul could endure. The cold afternoon wind had not blown his dark thoughts away. It had only frozen his nose and lips. Though he was already in the main gallery, he pulled his fur hood lower over his ears. He heard scratches of claws on the stone floor and lifted his head.

  From the other side of the gallery, Mauger came his way. The Keeper of Seals held his three mastiffs on the leash. Mauger liked to talk about his dogs, but Selen had never met them until now. They were impressive with their winter fur. Mauger wore a thick, burgundy woolen cloak, leather gloves, and a chaperon. He was probably on his way to walk the dogs.

  “Good day to you, Your Majesty,” the minister said. Mauger was always polite, but Selen considered him colder than a judge. Selen didn’t recall he had ever seen him smile. Louis was cold, but warm in private. Mauger oozed rigidity. In a way, he fitted his function impeccably.

  “Good day, Mauger. Are these your famous dogs?”

  “They are. Mastiffs of the purest breed,” Mauger said with pride.

  “May I?” Selen knelt to pet the dogs. As he stretched his hand, the watchdogs broke in thunderous barks. Selen had barely time to draw back his hand and swayed backwards.

  “Hush!” Mauger yelled at his dogs with a strong tug on the leashes. At once, the mastiffs sat down in silence. “Forgive them, Your Majesty. If you wish to caress them, you must stand up. They tend to attack anything lower than them. They are war dogs.”

  They are monsters, Selen thought. Yet, he refused to show his fear. He stood up again and patted the dogs’ heads. Selen was impressed by the size of their collars. The band of leather was thick and reinforced with metal. It was also carved, a sign that they were animals of great price. The symbol was a line of entrelac. In the middle of it stood a viper crushing a rose.

  “It is a work of art you put around their necks,” Selen said. The dogs were calm yet looked at him with watchful eyes.

  “My dogs are unique. I have to go for a walk. I hope to see Your Majesty later at the council’s meeting.”

  “Of course. Enjoy your walk.” Selen stepped aside from the dogs’ path. He watched them walk away, wondering which of the dogs or their master was grimmer.

  Selen walked through the inner garden and entered the solar. Louis sat at his desk in discussion with Pembroke, who sat in a fauteuil. When he saw him, Louis forced a smile that contrasted with the concern in his eyes. Pembroke stood up.

  “Your Majesty.”

  Selen gave a faint, polite smile. “Please sit down, Pembroke.” The closer the person who saluted him, the more awkward it felt. Selen unfastened the fibula of his grey cloak and laid the garment down on a fauteuil.

  Pembroke sat down and resumed his conversation. “As I said, there is a growing tension in the slums, Your Majesty. The disease is virulent in that area, and some people are now spreading the word that the government isn’t doing anything to help the population.”

  “We do all we can,” Louis said. His elbow on the armrest, he nibbled on his fingers.

  “Yes, I know. But they are scared, and the number of victims grows each day. Soon, there won’t be any free beds left in the hospital, though the number of dead stays constant. If this weren’t winter, we would probably have lost many more people already.”

  Selen walked towards the window and sat on the windowsill. The window stood ajar. Outside, the banks of the cascade were covered with ice. If the stream weren’t so strong, the water would be frozen by now. He raised his head. The first stars shone in the dark pink sky. One of his hands wandered into his tunic’s pocket and closed on something organic. Selen took it out. With the warmth, the hibiscus flower had faded. You’re dead, he thought and looked outside again. Maybe soon we will all be.

  “How do you evaluate that number?” Louis asked Pembroke.

  “If it goes on like this, we will soon reach a hundred dead per week. And you know it’s exponential. In a few days, it may be a hundred per day.”

  “Dear God.” Louis covered his face with his hands. “What more can I do?”

  “We must pray,” Selen sighed. “It is a sign from the gods. We must pray.”

  “With all the respect I have for your faith,” Louis said, “I don’t think that a religious cortege or any kind of celebration would help. People can’t gather in groups anymore.”

  “You can pray at home,” Selen objected, tracing a finger on the cold window stile.

  “Prayers alone won’t help,” Louis said with the unconvinced tone of someone losing patience. “We need actions. We need doctors.”

  “We need a miracle,” Selen whispered for himself. Slowly, he let the flower fall into the river.

  Someone knocked at the solar’s door.

  “Come in,” Louis said.

  The door opened. Lissandro entered the room. His breathing was short, and his face showed excitement. Selen straightened up. “Louis, Selen.” Lissandro looked at Pembroke. “My lord. If you don’t mind, I would like to have a word in private with my friends.”

  “Of course,” Pembroke said and hauled himself up. With the back of his hands, he uncreased the tails of his heavy black robes and coat before he turned to Louis. “We will see each other in an hour at the council meeting.” The minister took his leave and left the solar.

  “Lilo, what have you found?” Louis exclaimed, getting to his feet.

  Lissandro hurried towards them, taking a large volume from out of his satchel. He placed the book on the desk with a thud as Selen whisked to Louis’s side. The book was bound in brown leather with raised bands. Spots on the front board had been gnawed by wood parasites, resulting in tiny holes in the leather. Though it had been brushed, dust still covered the spine and edges, thus making the gilt title unreadable. Louis opened it with care. The pages were covered with signs.

  “What is it?” Louis asked. “A chronicle? I can’t read that writing.”

  Lissandro turned to Selen. “And you?”

  “Why would I be able to read that?”

  “Well, you speak the Linear A. Maybe you have more skills than us with bars, dots, and weird signs,” Lissandro said.

  “Speak the Linear A?” Selen repeated, puzzled.

  “Anyway. No one can read it,” Louis said. “So, would you mind to explain us?”

  “Yes, of course. This is an old chronicle tracing the events from the settlement of the first colonists in Trevalden when the Children still inhabited the land. And if you go to my bookmark—” Lissandro folded the pages forward until he reached a leather strap “—you will see they speak of the disease.” A loose sheet of paper was slipped between the pages. “This is Brother Gildas’s translation.”

  Louis took the paper. “In order that the honorable deeds and ventures accomplished during the conflict between the Trevaeldon and the so-called Children of the Forest, might be aptly documented and commended to lasting memory… Soon after the passing of King Edmund Hanekin, the Children claimed their rights on half of the land. Their demand was denied by the lords and their peers who said and maintained and are still adamant, that the kingdom of Trevalden in its whole must pass to the worthiest of its inhabitants… The worthiest.” Louis snorted and shook his head. “Just as it had been agreed by the lords and the councils that the young Ancelm, son of the late king, was crowned with the royal circlet, a mysterious epidemic struc
k the land…destroyed more than a third of the men, women, and children…black blotches and large painful lumps…excruciating pain for days shaking and vomiting—” Louis stopped and turned towards them “—green bile, as their bodies were full of it.”

  “This is our disease,” Lissandro said.

  “Probably it is, but it happened ages ago. Unless the cure is written in the book, there is nothing we can do,” Selen said.

  “Did nothing strike you in the text?” Lissandro asked.

  “A mysterious epidemic appearing providentially just when the Children got their rights denied?” Louis said. “Are you suggesting a man-made epidemic? Or a curse?”

  “I don’t know what it is, but the one who started it must have the cure,” Lissandro said.

  “But the Children are long gone from this world,” Selen objected.

  “I know. Yet, do you remember the hamadryad I met when I was in the Ebony Forest? We might find answers there,” Lissandro said, full of hope.

  Louis chuckled. “You want to travel back to the Ebony Forest to find a tree that may or may not come to life to give you scraps of information? Is that your plan?”

  “Yes,” Lissandro said, resolute. “And I will.”

  They all were silent for a while. Selen pondered the idea. It could be a solution, if Louis would agree to travel, which was less than probable.

  “Then you won’t travel alone. We’re coming with you,” Louis said.

  “Will you leave the city?” Selen asked, astounded.

  “I hate that too, but I did all I could here to help. So now, whether I go to the hospital and hold the hands of the sick until I die at their side, or I ride away and come back with a cure. I have to speak to the council right now. I will expose our plan. Lilo, make the arrangements for the journey.” Louis pointed at the book. “I want someone who can read that language to travel with us, and I want Folc with a company of fifty mounted guards.”

  “I’ll do it at once,” Lissandro said.