“Aiee, get off!” Ugoth shouted as he bounced up and down.
“Leave go that,” Herfod snapped. The boar grunted with irritation and trundled back to him, a monster many times Herfod’s weight. Herfod had gathered the few scattered truffles and placed them back in his habit with the rest. The boar butted him in the stomach lightly while grunting in a greedy manner. Herfod shoved the huge snout off with as little fear as someone handling a playful dog.
“That’s just wonderful,” Herfod called derisively to the king. “You keep distracting him, and I’ll get the truffles before he eats them.”
“That’s enough with the accursed truffles!” Ugoth roared, which incited the pig to rush back beneath the branch. Its beady black eyes glared up at him, and it swiped its head at the cloak but didn’t mouth it again. Ugoth swung himself more securely onto the limb, which sagged threateningly beneath the combined weight of his body and armour.
“Now every deer from here to Durgven has just run for its life.” Herfod limped beneath the branch and grinned at Ugoth. “You’re so impatient.”
“And you’re hurt! You said the boar wouldn’t hurt you!”
“That was your fault. You made him charge. His hind hoof gouged me a mite. Hi, Keth! My trousers are torn. You get to do some sewing tonight after all, but I won’t be sitting on your lap when you do.”
“Damn,” Keth’s voice responded from behind a tree. “Henrel, will you sit on my lap?”
“No!”
“Damn again.”
The boar grunted suspiciously and trotted back and forth beneath Ugoth, seeking the hidden hunting party.
“Tell that beast to leave before I come down and kill him,” Ugoth commanded, looking very silly as he bobbed in the air. He grabbed a nearby branch and balanced his weight between the two. The sag in the first lessened somewhat.
“Shoo!” Herfod said to the pig. “Get off with you. We’re even.” The pig eyed his habit hopefully. “No! Go away! Find some more of your own.”
Grudgingly, the boar trotted away. Ugoth peered at it through the branches, shifting about to follow its progress. As it disappeared beneath some bushes, his hand came off the supporting branch. The first bough squeaked a final protest and broke. Down he went, a six-foot man in chain mail. Herfod leapt aside and landed on his backside not far off.
“Oh!” Ugoth hissed. He heard Herfod laughing and started to smile. His captain appeared and bent to give him a hand up. Then Keth was there, grinning immensely.
“You don’t make a good bird, Majesty. Too heavy.”
“Oh, go heal Herfod!” His Majesty growled, shaking himself to settle his chain mail. He glanced around anxiously. “Where’s the boar?”
“Looks like it’s finished harassing you,” his captain said, also grinning now. “You had me scared. Did you see the size of those tusks? And you with a sword out, ready to take it. I swear hunting with you is going to stop my heart. I almost broke my promise never to get between you and prey.”
Several of Ugoth’s men concurred. Ugoth offered a small sheepish smile. He detested having a hunt interrupted by overly fussy guardians, but he had to admit that his temper had gotten the better of his wisdom. His smile reversed into a rueful frown. “I should have killed it while I was pissed. We’re going to end up back in the camp with nothing.”
“What about the truffles?” Herfod protested. He was still seated. Keth murmured a healing chant over him, one hand on his left calf.
“Eat them yourself,” Ugoth snapped. Herfod always messed up a hunt somehow, sometimes by simply refusing to eat good meat from a kill. Everything tasted bitter when he did that. Damned nuisance. So what if he had truffles. Truffles were nothing without meat.
“Thank you,” said the nuisance.
Ugoth scowled. Keth ended the healing chant. Caught unprepared, Ugoth took a full barrage of blue in the eyes and had to blink them clear after. The guards threw up their arms in defence, but the monks, who were expecting the fireworks, observed with their gazes turned slightly to the side. Keth pulled his hand off quickly.
“Never fails,” Lars murmured.
“Do you think if we kept healing him, he’d explode again?” Oswell said.
“Want to try and find out?” Henrel proposed.
Next to him, Silent Sheram grinned. Brother Sheram wasn’t the most talkative of Herfod’s lot. He tended to let everyone talk for him and for this reason was usually one of Herfod’s rear guard. Just now, however, he had a few words to put in. “I say we try.”
“Oh, shut back up, Sheram! Talkative troublemaker.” Brother Herfod lifted to his feet. “No truffles for you.”
Sheram just smiled impenitently.
“What’s this about exploding,” Captain Freden asked.
“Never mind,” Ugoth said. He added an explanation using Samel’s favourite description. “He’s just a very blessed monk. He tends to get a big glow when prayed over.”
Herfod scowled, but the captain nodded in understanding. Everyone knew Brother Herfod was special. Just seeing him arguing truffle rights with a wild boar had proven it to the soldier.
Ugoth stepped up to the grumpy saint and pulled open the sack made of habit. He looked at the truffles regretfully. “That would have gone well with deer. Or boar.”
“Oh, leave off with the boar,” Herfod snapped. “And the deer have likely all run with you roaring constantly. What about bear?”
“Bear? Did you see a bear?”
“Yes, about fifteen minutes ago. Very cantankerous fellow. Thought I might make a good meal until I sent an aura blast over its head.”
Ugoth grinned. “Bear tastes a bit like boar,” he mentioned casually.
“Does it?” Herfod responded lightly.
“Do you want to taste it?”
“Oh, I suppose. Let’s get these truffles in a saddlebag, then.”
Herfod marched back to where they had left the horses, his king smiling behind him. Bear instead of deer; that wasn’t so bad. And there would be a nice fur rug out of it.
***
Ufrid sat his horse at a considerable distance from the camp. He’d ordered his men to remain behind. They stared at him from afar, worrying over their interrupted duty, but Ufrid didn’t want them near just then. He shifted his mount until his back was to them, withdrew the round mirror from his saddlebag and looked into the surface. Eshaia’s surprised face reflected from within.
“Oh! Oh Ufrid! Why didn’t you speak to me before now? He’s furious!”
“I don’t care if he is. He’s not my sovereign and he’s not yours.” He squinted at the mirror. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the tower,” she said. “I’m waiting for him. He’s late. He may still be marching his army.”
“I wish you’d bloody told me of the great mirror before I left. He could use it against us.”
“He said he couldn’t. I told you. There are holy wards on the walls and doors.”
Ufrid heard a noise that sounded like a voice. “Is that someone with you?”
Her eyes widened momentarily. “Why no, Ufrid. It may have come from the other mirror. Perhaps they are setting up their camp now.”
Ufrid scowled suspiciously.
“Is the monk back?” she demanded hurriedly. “He’s absolutely insistent that you tell me right away.”
“I’m sure he is,” Ufrid retorted. “Brother Herfod has a fine backside. Fine enough to turn a king’s head.”
She stared at him in puzzlement. “What are you saying?”
“He’s Ugoth’s lover,” Ufrid said and watched Eshaia’s face fill with outrage.
“Liar! Liar! Ugoth wouldn’t! He’s not a pervert! He’s too boring to be a pervert! He’s my husband!”
“Think again,” Ufrid said. “He spends far more time with the monk than with you. Think of all the recent arguments between them. If those weren’t lovers’ quarrels over this new mistress of Ugoth’s, then I don’t know what would be.”
Her face paled. Her e
yes rounded, and the pupils dilated into pinpricks. “That vile bastard!” she spat. “He loves a man in preference to me?”
“I’m so sorry, love,” Ufrid said. The stupid slut! She was so easily manipulated, he had difficulty withholding a sneer. “We will make the perverted bastard pay for this slight.”
“Is that monk back?” she shrieked. “Is he back?”
“Yes, my love. He spent the night in Ugoth’s tent. I saw their shadows on the canvas briefly. It’s how I found out.”
“The whole camp knows he prefers a man to me!” she screamed. “I will see him pay!” Her image shook. He observed in fascination. She appeared to be strangling the mirror handle in her hands. “I will kill him!” she shrieked.
The image flashed across the tower until a man’s face stared out at Ufrid. “Marun,” Ufrid said coldly.
“When did the monk arrive?” the sorcerer demanded.
Ufrid examined the Shadow Master’s plain features. Only the eyes made the sorcerer stand out. There was such malevolence in them; Ufrid had no trouble believing any of the more wicked rumours he’d heard, but he would not be cowed even then. “He did better with my brother. You aren’t very handsome.”
Rather than flying into a rage, the sorcerer smiled. The plainness of his features vanished. In motion, smiling like that, he was exceptional, but he was also more perilous. The disdain, the malice, Ufrid didn’t think he’d ever seen the combination better done. “Your brother?” the sorcerer said. “This is whom he took in his arms last night? He took a king?”
“Yes,” Ufrid answered. The smile disappeared, and Ufrid’s sapphire eyes fixed on Marun’s very brown ones. He marvelled at the menace they radiated. The power of their regard had heightened considerably.
“Tell me what your brother looks like,” Marun said. “Does he look like you?”
“Somewhat. Some say he’s handsomer.”
“Do some say he’s beautiful?”
“I’ve heard women mention it,” Ufrid said.
Marun stared a moment before he spoke again. “I have something for you, King Ufrid.”
“King Ufrid?” The prince laughed. “That’s a bit premature.”
The terrible smile returned to the sorcerer’s ageless face. “Catch this,” he commanded.
Ufrid saw a vial approach the mirror. “What is this?” The vial popped out at his end. He caught it quickly. There seemed to be nothing in it.
“It’s for your brother. Pour it on the ground near him. It doesn’t matter where. Just do not be observed.”
“This will kill him? There’s nothing in it.”
“There’s something in it,” Marun assured him grimly. “I had thought to enslave your brother. But I think I’d rather get him out of the way quickly.”
“What about the monk?”
“Don’t touch him!” Marun snarled, showing the rage Ufrid had expected. “If you dare, you will die next!”
The image in the glass cut off. Ufrid peered at his own startled face. Hastily, he set the mirror back in his saddlebag. He looked suspiciously at the vial of nothing. The fading light of the day failed to expose whatever the Shadow Master insisted was in there. Ufrid slipped the vial into his inner cloak pocket and turned his stallion about.
He jerked the reins in surprise. Ugoth had returned from his impulsive hunting expedition. Instead of a deer, the horses dragged a dead bear trussed on a makeshift litter of tree branches and long poles. Ufrid kicked his mount toward the successful hunting party.
***
Marun turned his head to look down at the queen. “Get off him,” he snarled. She rose hastily and pulled her skirts straight. She’d changed her clothes since that morning, but the lace at the bodice had snags and the material over each nipple was dark with saliva. The ugly soldier grinned contemptuously at her. He lifted himself and righted his leggings.
“She’s a nice little slut,” he said in Stohar. “Such soft skin. Do all queens have such soft skin?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Marun replied in the same language. He switched to Ulmeniran. “Did you bring what I asked?” he demanded of Eshaia.
She nodded and rushed to the side of the tower. She brought a small packet of documents back with her. “I ransacked the royal office. These are trade agreements and treaties with allies. He signed all of these.” She proffered them to the sorcerer.
Marun stared without touching. They had an unhealthy blue glow about them. “They are all warded. Have you nothing else?”
“Warded? What do you mean?” For Eshaia, they were nothing but plain documents.
“Someone chanted wards over them!” Marun shouted.
“Oh!” Her lower lip quivered. “Oh! That little bastard monk! He was there when Ugoth signed these. He’s always there! He’s why Ugoth won’t pen his name anymore.”
Marun regarded her bitterly. So? Kehfrey protected his new lover from entrapment. Well, it didn’t matter. He didn’t need a name to kill. Eshaia had already given him enough for that.
“Never mind,” he said. “I decided to kill him anyway.” He struck her across the face. She toppled with a frightened yelp. “Do not insult what’s mine again!”
She stared up at him from on the floor, the useless packet in her lap. “I’m sorry,” she said. She began to weep. “He took my husband from me. I had no idea. I thought Ugoth loved me. It’s been this monk all the time.”
Marun turned away from her. He didn’t care how the spoiled slut felt. “Come!” he commanded the soldier.
Eshaia protested. “No! I brought you signed letters! You said I could keep him!”
“You brought me warded documents!” Marun snapped at her from the other side of the mirror.
She darted toward the soldier and attempted to pull him back. The brute laughed, put a hand over her face and shoved her off. She fell to the stones a second time. She cried out for him to remain. The Stohar made an obscene gesture and stepped through the mirror. On her knees, she pleaded with Marun to send him back.
“Cover it!” Marun snarled at his servants. He didn’t want to listen to her pitiful whining the rest of the night.
Eshaia screamed as the heavy cover blacked out the image of the tall, unattractive soldier. The last thing she saw him do was smile and lick his fingers. She stared at her own desperate face and then curled onto the floor and wept.
“He treated me like a whore!” she sobbed. “He treated me like a whore!”
It had been ecstasy.
She remembered and she touched herself. She thought of Ugoth and the monk. She knew. She just knew that Ugoth wasn’t impersonal when he took the monk. He was probably closer to violent, just like the morning he’d almost strangled her. That had been the closest her husband had ever come to giving her an orgasm. How must his face be when he loved Brother Herfod?
But she knew this as well. His face would be as it was whenever he looked at the monk. Such a very predatory aspect.
She began to rock helplessly from her manipulations. Vaguely Eshaia realized she must be going mad.
Chapter Six
Ufrid pulled his mount up a few yards away from the hunting party. His brother glanced at him disinterestedly and continued speaking to the monk. Ufrid regarded his brother with a mix of trepidation, eagerness and disgust. Ugoth’s eyes were warm on the monk’s pretty face. How had he not noticed before? Ugoth was in love with a man.
Ufrid grimaced. He hadn’t lied to Eshaia. He reached inside his cloak and grasped the vial. He hesitated. “I thought you wanted deer,” he called to his brother.
Ugoth looked at him impatiently. “I found a bear instead.”
The monk made a rude noise. “You found it? With you thumping about scaring all the game off? I found it.”
“That was your fault! I killed the bear. End of argument. Shut up or you don’t get any tonight.”
“Any what?” the monk said mildly.
“Bear!” Ugoth shouted.
An amused, teasing expression brightened the monk’
s face. Ufrid scanned down Herfod’s figure and fixed on a lower leg. The habit had ridden up from sitting astride a horse. Black material showed under the grey habit. Throwing knives were strapped on the limb.
Ugoth dismounted and moved toward his guard captain, who had already alighted and was organizing the butchering of the bear. “Get someone to cure the skin for me. I want it for a rug,” Ugoth instructed. He knew exactly who he was going to put on it later.
“Yes, Sire,” the captain acknowledged.
Ugoth approached his brother. “Anything important to report?”
“No,” Ufrid said impassively.
The monk focused on him, expression darkening into a mistrustful stare. Ufrid averted his eyes. That damned unnatural roach! Ufrid’s fingers tightened on the vial in his hand.
“Nothing happened?” Herfod demanded.
“No!” Ufrid snapped, angry gaze returning to Herfod’s sharp hazel one. “The army marched without incident!”
Herfod’s brows twisted in apparent confusion. His troubled face turned away. Ugoth, however, looked from the monk to Ufrid, sapphire eyes far too alert. Ufrid became anxious to divert his attention. “Are you going to share that bear meat?”
“Of course,” Ugoth said. Disinterested again, he marched back to his horse.
“I get to hunt tomorrow,” Ufrid called. His thumb caressed the top of the cork.
“I’ll think about it,” his king and brother evaded absently.
Ufrid released the cork on the vial. He felt nothing pour as he tipped it, but the effect was dramatic all the same. It took only seconds to transpire.
Without warning, Ugoth gasped and clutched at his chest. He thudded to his knees. Herfod shot down off his horse and toward him. Ufrid stared in awe as his brother’s face twisted with agony.
He was going to die. His brother was going to die before his very eyes. Gods above!
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