Freed of his boots, Skjaldwulf lay back across the bedding. Kjaran got up and came to sniff his face and throat. He heard Vethulf sit up, grumbling at Mar to shift his furry black ass, and grinned at the tent pole.
“Oh, this is ridiculous,” Vethulf said.
Skjaldwulf rolled up and saw that Mar had indeed shifted his furry black ass and was now draped across Vethulf’s lap.
Brother, Skjaldwulf said.
Mar rolled his eyes at him, then, with a very pointed thought about the smoked ham, got off Vethulf. Kjaran joined him at the tent flap, and Skjaldwulf got up and tied it closed behind them. He heard Ulfbjorn and Isolfr laugh, but he didn’t mind. He stripped his clothes off as he came back to the bedding, and Vethulf said, “I thought southerners were all fat and lazy. Haven’t they been feeding you?”
“I could have stayed out there and eaten smoked ham and listened to Isolfr and Ulfbjorn talk about konigenwolves,” Skjaldwulf pointed out.
“You could have,” Vethulf agreed, and then Skjaldwulf rolled into the bedding and straddled him.
Vethulf was wearing nothing but his shirt—two trellwolves were more than enough to keep a man warm at this time of year—and Skjaldwulf was pleased to feel evidence that the grumbling was just for show. He leaned down, got a careful grip on Vethulf’s braids, and kissed him, hard and slow and with all the pent-up loneliness and fear of his long trip south.
Vethulf made a tiny bitten-off noise and kissed him back, just as hard, and Skjaldwulf gratefully lost himself in the pressure of mouth on mouth, in Vethulf’s strong hands gripping his biceps. Skjaldwulf shifted himself to lie closer along Vethulf’s body, and Vethulf seized the chance to roll them over.
“Easy,” Skjaldwulf said. “Your shoulder—”
“Is fine,” Vethulf said. “Need I prove it to you?”
Skjaldwulf could not help laughing. “Yes,” he said. “I think you should.”
And Vethulf did. Vigorously and for some time. And Skjaldwulf happily, happily let him do it, let Vethulf be the one in charge. It could not always be so—and Vethulf would not want it to be so; they were wolfjarls together. But for now, Skjaldwulf could let go and simply feel Vethulf’s strength and fierceness and the sweetness that he hid behind his porcupine armor.
Afterwards, they lay together quietly for some time until a soft scrape at the tent flap and a nudge in the pack-sense told them that Mar and Kjaran wanted to come back in. Vethulf got up and loosed the flap; the two wolves sauntered in and annexed the bedding, Kjaran flopping down where Vethulf had been and Mar moving Skjaldwulf around to suit himself.
Vethulf came back and stood glaring down at Skjaldwulf and the wolves. Skjaldwulf was aware of a tremendous spreading feeling of rightness, as if he had finally come back to the place he was meant to be—even if at the moment he was too many leagues from his own heall. Here, with these wolves and Vethulf, and Isolfr just outside with Viradechtis. This was the right place.
Vethulf, still glowering, sat down and kissed him. Skjaldwulf kissed him back.
“I missed you,” Vethulf said. He sounded aggrieved.
TOR BOOKS BY SARAH MONETTE AND ELIZABETH BEAR
A Companion to Wolves
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors’ imaginations or are used fictitiously.
THE TEMPERING OF MEN
Copyright © 2011 by Sarah Monette and Elizabeth Bear
All rights reserved.
A Tor® eBook
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Monette, Sarah.
The tempering of men / Sarah Monette and Elizabeth Bear.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
Sequel to: A companion to wolves.
ISBN 978-0-7653-2470-2
1. Wolves—Fiction. I. Bear, Elizabeth. II. Title.
PS3613.O5246T46 2011
813'.6—dc22
2011013459
First Edition: August 2011
eISBN 978-1-4299-7913-9
First Tor eBook Edition: August 2011
The Tempering of Men Page 28
