Bound in Stone 3

by K. M. Frontain

  “Yes, we can,” Ugoth replied. “After the meal tonight, you get the women together who can do this best. I’ll create several teams of soldiers. Your women will point out places at random, and I’ll get my men to practice getting a barrel over and triggering it. The men need to have their end of it down before the confrontation. One wrong move and they explode instead of dragon head.”

  “Oh,” Uma said in comprehension. She nodded. “I’ll see it done.”

  Ugoth nodded in turn and looked at Herfod. The monk waved farewell and moved away. “That was easier than I thought,” Herfod muttered.

  Ugoth dipped his head in satisfaction. “We make a good team. We always have.”

  Herfod smiled. He caught sight of Pell driving a wagon alone and called a greeting. Oddly, she blushed bright red and averted her gaze. Herfod frowned as the wagon continued by.

  “She seems uncomfortable,” Ugoth commented.

  “Yes. It’s not like her. She’s usually overexcited.”

  “Is she? About what?”

  “About him,” Keth whispered from behind. They were still within the column of witches, so he kept his voice down. “She had an orgasm after watching him dance.”

  Ugoth pinned his gaze on Herfod and endeavoured to kill him with his emitted ire. Herfod burned red as a beet again. “She was there?” Ugoth snarled.

  “Oh, leave off!” the miscreant hissed. “Pell would have an orgasm watching two flies hump.” His gang laughed in appreciation, but Ugoth scowled and shoved Herfod out of the column.

  “Indecent prick!” he gritted out from between his teeth. “You don’t deserve that habit.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Herfod retorted hotly.

  “You have a lot more explaining to do tonight. Witches and monks watching you dance! What the hells sort of dancing was it? Were you trying to start an orgy?”

  “Don’t you wish!” Herfod growled.

  “What are they on about this time?” Oswell demanded, loud enough for both Ugoth and Herfod to hear.

  Both men shut up, but the glaring continued. Ugoth didn’t feel calm any longer. He wanted to grind Herfod into the dirt. That rutting bastard! That little cocksucking whore chaser!

  Ugoth stiffened suddenly, his face rising into the wind. His scanned the column of women. A second later, he ordered the guards and monks to back off several yards. They did so without objection. It wasn’t unusual for the king to speak with Herfod privately. Herfod was the king’s confessor, after all.

  “Did you smell that?” Ugoth asked him.

  “Smell what?” Herfod replied.

  “Perfume. The wind just brought the scent to me.”

  “It’s a bunch of women. There’s bound to be perfume.”

  “Even her perfume? It’s very expensive.”

  The implication momentarily rendered Herfod silent. “But I kept the bottle,” he said presently.

  “She put dabs of it on her handkerchiefs. She put dabs of it on almost everything she owned.”

  “I’ll check after supper.”

  “I’ll check!” Ugoth denied him.

  “You’ll make her run!” Herfod hissed. “She’s afraid of you now. Remember?”

  “Oh, right.” Frustrated, Ugoth glowered at the earth and scuffed aside an innocent rock that had stupidly happened along. It bounced off into the ditch alongside the road. “But she’s in the middle of witches. You can’t go.”

  Herfod looked away from the castigated rock. “We at least know she’s safe. Look, it’s got to be Pell. She was acting strange. I’ll see her when she’s training. She’ll talk if I press her. I’ll have Samel with me then.”

  “Samel will blow his head off.”

  “Oh, right.” Herfod thought about bashing a few rocks himself, but restrained himself.

  “She bloody must have known it was the best place to hide from you,” Ugoth hissed. “I’m going!”

  “She’ll run!” Herfod reminded. There was a lovely head-sized stone coming up.

  “Then what the hells can we do?” Ugoth said angrily. “Would she come if we sent her a message?”

  Herfod made a sour face. “I’m not sure. Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether she feels safe enough to trust any message we send and on how pissed she is with you still. She could up and leave right after reading it. You let me go,” he said again. “I’ll be careful. I’ll keep an aura ball of my own handy just in case.”

  It was too much to resist. Herfod knocked the stone flying with the heel of his boot. It slammed another stone further off and ricocheted to the right, into the ditch fortunately; but the other, which was much smaller than the first and studded with sharp angles, skidded along energetically until it clipped someone marching further ahead.

  “Ow!”

  Herfod blinked. He should have continued restraining himself.

  “You can’t just shoot yourself!” Ugoth said in disbelief. “And stop that! I’m surprised you didn’t break a toe on that rock.”

  “Shh! He has no idea who did it!” Herfod whispered urgently. “And I used my boot heel to kick. Oh, no, he’s limping.”

  “Yes, he is,” Ugoth agreed. “Nice shot.”

  Herfod grimaced. “I can shoot the earth, you know. That’s at least going to give me a chance to run. Ah, gods, he’s limping really badly!”

  “You’re running on the earth,” Ugoth pointed out. He looked back at the gang, whose members were all snickering over their senior’s clumsy gaffe, a rarity they couldn’t resist enjoying to the fullest. “Someone go give Herfod’s victim a healing,” Ugoth commanded.

  “What’s the matter? You can’t stand to see one of your precious soldiers whine a bit?” Keth said. “He’s only bleeding a little. I’ve seen little old women with more fortitude.”

  “Just go!”

  Acting much put upon, Keth thumped off to save Herfod’s limping casualty, while the others continued to snigger at their red-faced senior.

  “The Ancient Power doesn’t have much force outside of a temple. I’ll be fine,” Herfod said. He glared back at his cohorts, but when Henrel commenced to limp with abject false agony and the others began to imitate him, he faced front again, a sheepish grin forming on his face.

  “No! You danced in shadows. Outside of a temple! Remember? I’m not risking you,” Ugoth said decisively. “We wait until she decides to approach. She will eventually.”

  Behind, a few of the holy brothers groaned abysmally. Herfod sighed heavily and tried to ignore them. “You don’t know that she will.”

  “I do!” Ugoth snapped. “She loves you. She’ll approach you. As you said, we know she’s safe. We’ll watch from a distance until she ventures out to see you.”

  Herfod scowled, but nodded agreement. What had he to say about it? He wasn’t the bloody king. Aggravated, he stomped along rather noisily.

  Ugoth glanced back at the entourage of crippled clerics. The beginnings of a smirk playing on his lips, he spoke to Herfod again. “I want her back too,” he whispered earnestly. “Be patient, man! She can’t resist you for long.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Herfod grumbled. “She resisted for years.”

  Up ahead, Keth had met the injured foot soldier, whose calf was more than a little bloody. They were just marching past the pair when Keth concluded the healing chant. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Didn’t think the rock would skip off in that direction.”

  “You shouldn’t be kicking rocks about like that!” the soldier scolded.

  “Yes, well, sorry again,” Keth replied flatly and rejoined his group. They had abruptly straightened up and were walking normally once more.

  “My stockings are ruined!” the soldier complained.

  “Oh, quit whining! Come by the Turamen enclave tonight and I’ll wash and sew them just like I’m your mother, you great baby. You can sit on my lap, and I’ll cuddle you while you suck on a nice—”

  “Keth! Shut it!” Herfod ordered.

  K
eth shut it, but he sent a challenging glare at the soldier all the same. Keth didn’t mind a good brawl now and again and would occasionally start one for the most specious of reasons. In his mind, the refused apology was more than adequate motivation. After all, he’d apologized on Herfod’s behalf, which meant Herfod had been insulted by the following snub. Keth wouldn’t suffer such an affront from anyone, and neither would the rest of the gang, who each cast the soldier a scathing glance. The soldier melted into the column without further complaint.

  “You were too young for her!” Ugoth endeavoured to pacify the real culprit, glancing back to be certain Keth had dropped back far enough to the rear. Keth had a habit of crowding in where he wasn’t wanted. Seeing that such currently wasn’t the case, Ugoth grinned down at his petulant friend. “And way too short,” he added. “I’m surprised she even bothered with you at all.”

  Herfod wasn’t going to let a slight against his size pass unavenged. “Don’t you remember?” he said coolly.

  “Remember what?”

  “Mine’s bigger.” This time Herfod presented the superior grin.

  “You gods busted prick!” Ugoth wanted to shake him again. “Keth’s in love with you!” he growled instead. “I’m going to kill him!”

  “Leave him be, idiot. He’s with Henrel.”

  “Henrel?” Ugoth was surprised and suddenly doubted his earlier assumption. “I had no idea.”

  “They don’t all act like fairy roaches. You forget Vik.”

  “I haven’t forgotten Vik!” Ugoth glanced back and noted that Keth glowered at them resentfully. “Or you,” he added, his suspicion returning full force. “Isn’t the monastery against such goings on? There is a vow of abstinence, after all.”

  “And there’s a good reason for that. Sex is a bloody nuisance. It causes nothing but trouble,” Herfod said angrily. “We’ve done little but argue whenever the subject comes up. We should go back to being friends.”

  “Like hells we will. There’s no backing up on time, Herfod. You’re mine now. Keep Keth away from you.”

  “That’s going to be damned difficult. He’s my captain, so to speak. I said leave off. He’s more in control than you are.”

  “In control? He was about to start a fight with one of my foot soldiers.”

  “The man refused an apology. I’d have bashed the uncouth nit myself.”

  “If I find out you’re lying about Keth, I’m going to kill you,” Ugoth threatened.

  Herfod locked his fingers around his own neck and made choking noises. Ugoth grabbed him and pulled him into a headlock. Herfod laughed and pleaded surrender until his abuser let him go. Ugoth grinned as well by then. Herfod could have put him on the ground if he’d wanted. They both knew it.

  “Let’s go hunt up a deer,” Ugoth said. “On horseback we’ll catch up with the army quickly enough.”

  “Fine,” Herfod agreed. It would keep the king occupied and him as well. His thoughts drifted back to Nicky even now. He had a difficult time keeping his head from turning toward the wagons.

  Ugoth ordered his guards to see about horses for Herfod and his protectors; then he mounted and went forward to put Ufrid in charge of the march.

  Ufrid wasn’t pleased. “You haughty bastard!” he said. “Put Lord Ridiug in charge! I want to go too!”

  “Hells, no! Troublemaker! You think I forgot this morning?” Ugoth retorted. “You stay here.” He whirled his stallion about and raced off before Ufrid said anything they would both regret.

  Ufrid said it to himself. “Bugger you!” he snarled beneath his breath. He scowled after his king and brother. “You gods-be-damned roach! I’ll do your monk just like I did your wife!”

  He knew it wasn’t likely and glowered with resentment. He had delayed long enough. Tonight he would use the small mirror he had packed in his saddlebag. He would tell Eshaia the monk had returned.

  Marun had specifically demanded to be informed the moment Herfod showed up. Ufrid had postponed reporting for his own reasons, one of them being that he wouldn’t give that child-buggering he-witch anything he wanted right off. It was a subtle message. Marun wasn’t his lord and master and never would be. This morning he’d delayed out of curiosity concerning the monk’s relationship with his brother, but the more Ufrid considered it, the more likely it seemed that Ugoth was doing the monk.

  Ufrid wondered how he’d missed the indications all this time. Ugoth had acted possessive toward Herfod for years. He’d had him up in the castle on any plausible excuse, most often pleading the need for advice over this or that. And when he couldn’t get the monk to the city, he’d gone to the monastery instead. He’d followed his supposed confessor about like a lovesick boy. It was perfectly obvious now. Ufrid would have preferred knowing for certain, but he was going to say it to Eshaia all the same.

  It would drive her mad. She would remember all the time her king and husband spent with pretty boy Herfod. Too beautiful Ugoth, the man she had described as an impersonal lover who gave her little pleasure: Ugoth preferred a hard male body and a firm, tight ass.

  Eshaia would go mad. Then Ugoth’s children would go.

  Ufrid smiled, a grimace cold and vicious. His way to the throne was becoming clearer.

  ***

  “That’s no deer,” Keth said.

  “No,” Ugoth agreed. “Deer don’t grunt.”

  “It’s a boar, Majesty,” Ugoth’s captain said, squinting forward. “You should remount.”

  His Majesty balked. “I’m not remounting. I’ll eat boar as easily as deer.”

  “Where is that pain in the ass?” Keth cried angrily and not for the first time.

  “The gods only know,” Ugoth answered. Blasted assassin! He’d slipped off the moment all their backs were turned. “He’s likely telling the boar to run for its life.”

  Keth grinned. “He might. He has a softness for pigs.”

  “I remember,” Ugoth whispered impatiently. He remembered a smaller, younger Herfod grinning up at him, seated on hay with three small swine in his lap. Herfod had been so happy, and Ugoth had felt as if his heart had dropped into his stomach. He’d thought he was ill. He’d asked for a healing and then lain in the hay with Herfod, basking in the warm afterglow of the blessing and letting pigs ruin his velvet suit.

  He had loved him. He had loved him even then. How had he been so blind?

  Damn him! Where was that little heart thief?

  At the moment, Ugoth and Keth were ducked beneath a bush together, peering cautiously out at a small glade. Ugoth’s guards and Herfod’s gang crouched on the ground not far off, all waiting tensely for Ugoth’s decision to take the boar or back off. The boar grunted beneath a tree at the far side of the clearing.

  “We’re not geared for boar, Majesty,” Ugoth’s captain whispered forward. “We brought only bows.”

  “What about swords? Herfod brought that curved blade of his,” Keth put in.

  Before their departure, Herfod had gone into the line and taken the katana back from Vik. Apparently the abbot had waived the rule against cutting edges for this particular monk. Ugoth thought it just as well. No one could keep Herfod away from sharp objects. They fascinated him.

  “A sword? You can’t take a boar with a sword,” the captain said. “It’s too big. It’ll turn and gut you first.”

  “He has a point,” Ugoth said. “Arrows can kill them too and from a safer distance. We’ll have to settle for ambush.” He began to back out of the shrub, intending to search for a clearer shot from behind a large tree trunk, but Herfod’s voice issued from beyond some bushes to the other side of the glade and forestalled him.

  “Here, now! That one’s for me!”

  A loud protesting squeal followed directly after the outburst. Ugoth bolted upright, and his head broke out above the bush. Standing, he saw it all clearly. “Herfod!” he cried. “Get away from that boar!”

  Herfod, just then walking into the clearing, looked up in surprise. Keth crashed upward next, his body dragg
ing leaves off the branches and sending them flying. “Herfod! Get away!” he repeated.

  Herfod squinted in surprise. He had his habit lifted high, exposing his assassin trousers and leg weaponry while cradling something in the pouch he’d made from the grey cloth. The boar snuffled at his feet, rooting up the earth complacently.

  “Hi, now! Don’t you go killing him,” Herfod snapped. “I just have half as much as I want.”

  The remaining monks and guards rose and stared across the glade at him. The boar trotted off to a different tree. Herfod dashed after him.

  “Herfod!” Ugoth called. “Come back here!” He stomped out of the bush toward the insane monk. The boar snorted belligerently. Ugoth froze.

  “Back off, Ugoth. He knows a predator when he sees one,” Herfod said calmly.

  “What about you?” Ugoth demanded.

  “Oh. Well. He owes me for the great gaping spear wound I just healed. I’m still collecting. Now back off! You said you were hunting deer!”

  “I can hunt boar as well,” Ugoth protested. He began to back away slowly.

  “You know I don’t eat pork,” Herfod cried.

  “You don’t eat virtually any meat, you unnatural creature!”

  The boar performed a small warning charge at Ugoth. The king pulled his sword and crouched. The beast backed off, squealing angrily.

  “Get off with you!” Herfod said. “He’s not harming me.”

  “Why exactly is that?”

  “I’m not planning to eat him. He knows.”

  “Herfod, you are a complete pain in the ass,” Ugoth hissed, and he backed until he was in the bush with Keth again.

  “What are you getting?” Keth called.

  “Truffles, only this great swine keeps hogging the majority. There he goes again!” Herfod dipped down and grabbed a truffle before it disappeared. The boar protested and knocked him down, snuffling eagerly at his habit.

  “Herfod!” Ugoth cried in alarm, jumping out of the bush a second time.

  The boar charged. Keth yelped and ran. Ugoth caught a low hanging branch and lifted himself quickly, and the guards bolted behind trees. The rest of Herfod’s gang remained where they were, to watch in fascination their senior’s latest spectacle. The boar trotted around beneath Ugoth, snatched his light summer cloak in its mouth and shook the blue cloth aggressively.