by James Erich
“You?” Mak looked skeptical. “Why didn’t he hire some mercenaries? He’s got the gold.”
Before Koreh could answer, Snut leapt to his defense. “Mercenaries work for whoever pays the most. The dekan wouldn’t’ve trusted them to not be secretly working for the emperor.”
That wasn’t entirely true, Koreh reflected, but close enough.
“Me,” Moghm commented, “I don’t trust no one that don’t know the value of good honest work! His Lordship was wise to go with our friend Koreh here.”
“That’s right!” Snut agreed with a firm nod of his head.
Koreh raised his mug to them and then drank.
This, Koreh thought, is what makes common folk so much better than noblemen. When they like you, they like you. No phony smiles. No manipulation.
“Bet you got paid handsomely for that,” Mak said.
Koreh smiled wryly. “There hasn’t been much mention of that, yet.”
“Don’t you worry,” Moghm said, “His Lordship will do right by you, if he’s half the man his brother was. May he be honored in the Great Hall.”
He and his sons both drank to that, so Koreh imitated them.
“Dekan Seffni seems to have been well loved,” he said.
“Aye. He was a good man. As is the vek. The Menaük family has safeguarded this city for hundreds o’ years and, gods willing, will do so for a thousand more.”
They all drank again.
Koreh hesitated a moment, then asked slowly, “You don’t mind that the Menaük have brought your city into a war with the emperor?”
Moghm spat. “The emperor,” he said contemptuously.
Koreh found himself liking the man all the more.
“I ain’t never heard one word said in the emperor’s favor and that’s the truth,” Moghm went on. “The vek cares for his people. Always ’as, always will. If he wants the throne, then by the gods, we’ll give it to ’im!”
IT WAS late. Very late.
Koreh hadn’t appeared for dinner, and the servants said he’d left the courtyard with one of the wagons. That irritated Sael, but he assumed Koreh had gone to dinner at one of the local pubs with some of the farm workers. It hadn’t escaped Sael’s notice that Koreh was uncomfortable in the keep.
Now it was several hours later, and there was still no sign of him. Sael had filled the tub, thinking his friend might want a bath after his hard labor. But when the water started to cool, he decided to slip into it himself rather than let it go to waste.
He closed his eyes, trying very hard not to let his fears run away with him—fears that Koreh might simply leave. After all, he had little reason to be involved in this mess. A war between the emperor and the vek wouldn’t affect someone living in the forest. The only thing holding him here was Sael. And the promise of a reward.
What if he’s just waiting to be paid? And merely amusing himself with me, until then?
Sael heard a movement in the room, a quiet rustling of clothing, and his eyes shot open. His first thought was that it could be samöt, and he was completely unarmed and helpless in the tub. He spun around, sloshing water on the floor as he frantically swept his eyes around the dimly lit room, looking for any sign of movement. But in the wavering candlelight, all the shadows seemed alive.
Then he saw Koreh standing in the corner. He was filthy, every part of his skin and clothing covered with dust and grime, his face streaked with sweat.
“The guards at the gate didn’t know who I was,” Koreh said quietly. “They laughed at me and told me to go take a bath.”
Sael was upset by this, but not surprised. “I’m sorry. If I’d known you were going to leave the keep, I would have alerted them to watch out for your return.”
“I thought maybe you’d told them to keep me out.”
There was something in his tone that felt menacing. As he stepped forward, Sael got a whiff of ale and wondered if Koreh was drunk. “And what if I had?” He didn’t want to fight, but he had to know—had Koreh come here to harm him? “If you thought I didn’t want you here, why did you sneak in?”
“I just needed to be sure. I’ll go away, if you tell me to.”
Sael stood, noting the way Koreh’s eyes couldn’t resist being distracted by his nudity. Feeling reassured, he reached for the bath towel. “Of course I don’t want you to go away. I’ve been waiting for you for hours. You’ve been drinking, haven’t you?”
Koreh seemed to relax somewhat, but his voice was still surly. “What if I have?”
“You’re filthy,” Sael replied, deciding it would be wiser to change the topic. “Would you like me to drain the tub, so you can have fresh water?”
“Is the water cold?”
“No, but it’s no longer very hot. And I’ve been soaking in it.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll take it, if you’re getting out.”
Sael stepped out onto a mat. “It’s all yours.”
He didn’t bother putting his clothes on as he watched Koreh undress, so there was no hiding his arousal. Koreh didn’t comment on it, but he approached Sael and raised a hand to his chest, drawing roughened fingers against Sael’s pale skin. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Koreh turned away and stepped into the tub.
“Gods,” he groaned, as let his body slip beneath the warm water. “Every muscle in my body is aching.”
Sael dropped the towel and knelt on the mat beside the tub. “You didn’t have to work.”
Koreh leaned back and closed his eyes. “I thought your father would forbid us being together.”
He seemed to be changing the subject, but Sael sensed he wasn’t—not really. Koreh was telling him why he’d needed something to distract himself during the afternoon.
“He didn’t,” Sael answered truthfully. “At least, not for the present. But we have to keep it secret from the servants—at least, those who don’t know already.”
Koreh’s eyes opened again. “For how long?”
“Until we go to battle.”
“And then what?”
Sael couldn’t lie to him. “He wants you to go away after that.”
There was a long silence. Then Koreh said, his voice tinged with anger, “And you’re going to go along with it.”
It was an accusation rather than a question. An unfair one.
“I didn’t say that,” Sael snapped. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I just need some time to think—”
“About what?”
“About how to convince Father to let you stay.”
“And if you can’t convince him?”
Sael groaned in frustration. “I’ll have to convince him. There has to be a way.”
It was obvious Koreh didn’t believe him, but he wanted more than anything for things to be smooth between them. He couldn’t deal with his father if Koreh was being difficult too. “I don’t want to think about what will happen after the battle. If the emperor wins, my father and I will be executed and none of that will matter. What matters is that I’ve been missing you all day. Can we please just be together right now?”
Koreh’s eyes had gone wide at the mention of Sael being executed. He said nothing for a long time. At last he lay back and closed his eyes again, but his face still looked tense. “You won’t be executed. I’d never let that happen.”
Sael wished he could believe that. Oh, he trusted Koreh to save him, if possible. But would it be possible? What if Koreh was killed in the battle? The thought filled him with dread, but anything could happen.
Hesitantly he reached out and scooped up a handful of warm water and then let it trickle down Koreh’s shoulder. He thought perhaps Koreh might stop him, but he merely opened one eye for a moment and then closed it again. Slowly, as though stroking a wild animal that might suddenly turn and snap, Sael continued to wash Koreh, rubbing away the sweat and grime, revealing the smooth skin underneath; caressing those taut muscles. Exploring.
When he stroked Koreh’s face, Koreh opened his striking blue eyes again and gaze
d intently into Sael’s own. Sael washed the dirt away from his cheeks, looking back into those crystal-clear eyes, finding anger and distrust there. But deeper down, he could see something else. Something truly beautiful; something that adored him. It made his stomach feel… wobbly. But somehow it was a good feeling.
He’d avoided moving his hands below Koreh’s stomach, where it was apparent Koreh’s frustration mirrored his own. Now, with his hand trembling slightly, Sael slid his fingers along Koreh’s jaw, down the side of his neck and down his chest. He continued to move down the taut ripples of his friend’s stomach, until Koreh suddenly gripped his hand with his own to stop its progress.
“No,” he said, roughly.
Sael felt his heart sink.
As if reading his unspoken thought, Koreh said, “I don’t want our first time to be when we’re angry with each other.”
“Are we angry with each other?”
Koreh looked at him for a long time, appearing to mull something over in his mind. Then he pulled gently on Sael’s hand, bringing him closer. “Kiss me.”
Sael obeyed. When their lips met, all the tension between them seemed to fade away. Koreh’s kiss, tentative at first, grew more passionate.
When finally they pulled apart, Koreh flashed him a shy smile and said, “No, we’re not angry anymore.”
I never was angry, you stubborn ox. But Sael didn’t bother to point that out.
“So,” Koreh said, still smiling. “How did I taste, this time?”
“Like strawberries and cream.”
“I haven’t had any strawberries. I doubt even your father could command them to grow at this time of year.”
Sael rolled his eyes at him. “I’m teasing you. You taste a bit like cheap ale. But it’s fine. And I want you to stop being an ass and kiss me again.”
Koreh obliged him. But when Sael’s hand once more began to slide down his body, Koreh stopped him yet again.
“I don’t want to do this in the tub. I can’t reach you from here.”
“The bed, then?”
Koreh stood, water cascading off his naked body. Sael grabbed the towel, and when Koreh stepped out of the bath, he allowed Sael to envelope him in it, rubbing it in sensual caresses along every part of his beautiful form. This time when Sael’s hands moved down between his legs, Koreh didn’t stop him.
They moved to the bed, at last. Sael didn’t know what he wanted Koreh to do to him—not in any way he could articulate—but Koreh kissed and caressed him, touching him in ways he’d never thought of. His first orgasm was quick, a sweet, ecstatic release from all the tension he’d been feeling for days, every time his eyes had swept hungrily over Koreh’s nakedness. Koreh allowed Sael to quicken him, as well, so they could share the moment together, clinging to each other, trembling and gasping, Koreh kissing away the tears that came unbidden to Sael’s eyes. Sael had never felt anything like this before. It was as though Koreh’s tenderness and desire for him was something he could touch and hold and bring into himself.
When he could speak again, Sael couldn’t help but ask, in a small voice, “Was that good? I mean… I thought it was wonderful. But I know you’ve done it with others….”
Koreh leaned over him, kissing his cheeks and the tip of his chin. He raised himself up to look directly into Sael’s eyes, smiling. “Don’t be a fool. I’ve had sex before, but I’ve never done this before. I’ve never—”
He broke off so abruptly that Sael was afraid something must be wrong. “What is it?”
Koreh looked deeply into his eyes for a long moment, and then appeared to make a decision. He took a breath before saying, “I’ve never loved somebody before.”
He’d said it. Sael felt his head swim and it seemed for a moment as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. Koreh loved him. He didn’t just like him or desire him. He loved him.
“I’ve been hoping you’d say that” was all he could think to say.
Koreh gave him a wry look. “You’re supposed to say you love me too.”
“I do! I love you so much—” Sael struggled to find words for it. “—it feels like my chest is going to explode!”
Koreh laughed. “Well, don’t do that.”
“It’s funny how it hurts and feels good, both at the same time.”
“Yes, I know. It feels the same for me.”
“All you have to do is smile at me,” Sael went on, unable to stop himself now, “and I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Doing this with you… I can’t even begin to describe it. It’s wonderful!”
“I’m glad. And yes, little lord, it was good.”
“I love you, Koreh,” Sael said, relishing the fact that he was finally able to say it aloud.
Koreh rolled his eyes and sighed, but his smile was affectionate. “Fine, if you’re going to get all sappy on me. I love you too. Now, no more talking.”
Koreh pulled him close and kissed him hard.
Chapter 24
WHEN Koreh woke, it was still dark. Sael was curled up in his arms, breathing softly, warm and comforting. They had doused the candles before finally settling down to sleep, and the heavy curtains covering the windows blocked any light from entering the room. Yet Koreh could see with the eerie bluish vision that the Taaweh had granted him and that enabled him to see the stranger standing at the foot of the bed.
He didn’t panic, for he realized immediately that the stranger was Taaweh. His cowled cloak shimmered and fluttered as though it was a shadow cast by an invisible flickering candle. But it was nevertheless disconcerting to find a stranger standing over him while he slept. Apparently the Taaweh had little concept of privacy.
“Iinyeh Koreh,” the Taaweh said softly, and Koreh realized he’d been mistaken. The visitor was female. “It is time to go.”
“Go where?”
“The Iinu Shaa wishes to have an audience with you.”
The Iinu Shaa was the Lord of the Taaweh, the companion of the Lady. Koreh’s dreams had told him little of this powerful figure, except that he was very different from the beautiful golden Iinu Shavi—dark and shadowy and mysterious. Koreh felt both excited and fearful at the prospect of meeting him.
Koreh glanced at Sael’s sleeping form and the Taaweh said, “You must leave your tyeh-iinyeh, for now. You will be returned shortly.”
The Taaweh, Koreh had learned, did not have complicated terms for family members. In fact, he wasn’t even certain if they had families. The word for “friend” was iinyeh and all other terms seemed to be derived from that, such as the word fya-iinyeh, which meant close friend, or companion. Tyeh-iinyeh was the closest word the Taaweh had for “lover” or “nimen.”
The last thing Koreh wanted to do right now was leave this warm bed with Sael curled up in his arms. The last several hours had been the happiest, most joyous time of his life. If he had his way, it would never end. He and Sael would wake in the morning and just keep going until they were so exhausted they fell asleep in each other’s arms again.
But he couldn’t turn away from the Taaweh if they wanted something of him. They’d been his allies, at least in spirit, for far too long.
Reluctantly, Koreh nodded. “Let me put my clothes on.”
“If you like.”
The fact that the Taaweh didn’t appear to care whether Koreh wore clothes or not for his audience with the great Lord amused him, but he quickly collected his tunic, breeches, and boots and donned them. They were still filthy, but he had no other clothing, and he didn’t want to wake Sael to ask for clean clothes. That would just complicate things. After all, an “audience” didn’t sound as though it would take long. Koreh would probably be back before Sael even woke up.
Throwing his cape around his shoulders, he said, “I’m ready.”
THE Taaweh took Koreh’s hand and they dropped straight through the floors of the castle, somehow avoiding the rooms in between, though Koreh had no idea how. Then they moved rapidly through the ground and emerged at a spot deep within a forest. Whic
h forest, Koreh couldn’t say. He’d never seen one like this. The trees were enormous here, stretching up to the sky, higher than he’d ever known trees to grow. Their branches disappeared into the darkness far above him, and the only light where Koreh stood came from shimmering pale-blue lanterns that hung in the air over the path, drifting lazily along, apparently unattached to anything. The path itself wound among the trees, barely discernable on the leaf-strewn forest floor.
His companion began to walk along the path, saying nothing, but apparently expecting Koreh to follow. He did so, not wishing to be left alone in this strange place. As he walked, one of the lanterns drifted close to him and he saw it was really a ball of insects, swarming very close together, their underbellies glowing. He recognized them—they were called nened, or simply “glowbugs.” But no glowbugs he’d ever seen glowed so brightly or swarmed in clusters like this.
As he followed the Taaweh along the path, the forest opened up and revealed a large clearing where thousands of nened swarmed, casting a bluish light upon everything. But odder still was the fact that here, it was raining. High above the clearing, silent flashes of lightning illuminated dark swirling clouds, spiraling directly overhead and pouring rain down upon just this one spot in the forest. Hundreds of Taaweh knelt at the edges of the clearing, some wearing the shadowy cloaks Koreh was familiar with, but many dressed in beautiful robes of pale blue or green with threads of silver or gold woven into the cloth. Many of the men and women wore jewelry set with colorful precious stones. A surprising number of them were completely naked.
But Koreh noticed that none of them were moving. They were all turned toward the center of the clearing, hands touching the earth before them, heads bowed.
Then Koreh’s guide stepped to one side and Koreh was able to see the center of the clearing for the first time. There was a man there, dressed in finely wrought battle armor of strangely different designs and metals, as if pieced together from an assortment of different suits of armor. He was standing in the pouring rain, although he did not appear to be wet. The man was large and muscular and wore a helmet adorned with the massive horns of a ram, curving down along both sides of a coldly handsome face. His skin was ghastly pale, but his expression seemed calm and benevolent. Except that there was something wrong with his eyes. He looked at Koreh with eye sockets so deep and shadowed that Koreh could not be certain he had any eyes at all.
