Loyalty and War

by Devon Vesper

  Valis closed his eyes and buried his face into the curve of Tavros’s neck, hiding there in the hopes that his husband’s scent and strong arms would help to banish the rest of his anger and frustration. He couldn’t see Kerac like this. His papa didn’t need to have that kind of worry when he was still so frail and sick. And if his friends saw him like this, they’d swarm him, and he didn’t think he could handle that right now. Not without blowing up at them.

  “I know what you need,” Tavros whispered.

  “What?” Valis mumbled into his neck.

  “You wanted to soak in the tub earlier. Think that would help?”

  He honestly didn’t know if it would or not, but he’d never turn down a chance to be naked with his husband. “Let’s find out.”

  “And no more scrying today?” Tavros gave him a squeeze and turned Valis around to give him a gentle shove toward the lavatory. “You can try again tomorrow. We won’t give up, Valis. I promise.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Five days. It had been five days, and Valis’s disgust only grew. He paced his room, tugging at his loose blond hair as he muttered to himself, racking his brain on how to scry differently than he had been so he could find an exact location to throw in Brother Bachris’s face. Anything to get his trip sanctioned.

  Nothing had worked. And Valis had been trying for five days. The worst thing was, he felt no closer to a breakthrough than he had when he began. At least in the beginning he’d had determination and hope. Now, all he had was a growing sense of despair that gripped his heart and shredded it every time he looked into Kerac’s eyes and saw the hope shining in their golden depths.

  Valis had made a promise, and for the first time, he wondered if he’d be able to keep it. Would he be able to rescue Darolen? The only thing that kept him stranded in the monastery was his sense of duty. He had promised his fathers that he would become an Aesriphos and devote his life to the monastery’s cause. He had friends here who he didn’t want to disappoint, Brother Bachris included. His husband desperately wanted him to get the mission sanctioned, so they could enlist other Aesriphos for a more unified approach to the journey.

  And all Valis wanted was to run recklessly across the country in search of his father.

  It wasn’t fair. But, Valis knew from his years under Roba’s abuse that life was rarely fair.

  He stalked around his room now, ignoring the scrying bowl that sat, taunting him, on the side table. Every time he glanced at it, his stomach churned. The anger he’d held before had turned into pure frustration that he couldn’t escape. Resigned, he struggled to find a new way of convincing Brother Bachris to sanction the mission.

  Nothing he came up with measured up. The only thing he kept coming back to was abandoning the monastery completely and heading off with the mercenaries and the Kalutakeni, knowing they would follow him out of loyalty if nothing else. He had their support after only a few months of travel, but the monastery he had spent well over a year in, that he had come to love, that finally felt like home, wouldn’t budge on its stance.

  They were abandoning his father, and that thought made Valis sick and struggle not to see red like he had when he’d killed the bandits in Sithera on his way from his childhood home to the monastery and his cellmates from his time in the prison on his first day here. Now, it threatened to throb into his vision. Not because of his anger, but because his frustration was so high that he wanted blood, wanted to destroy.

  And that wasn’t like him.

  “Love, what can I do?”

  Tavros stood by the open door to their bedroom when Valis glanced up from his glaring at the floor, watching his feet take step after step in his pacing. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension that kept building until his entire back, neck and shoulders felt like steel.

  “I don’t know.”

  Tavros hesitated in the doorway before striding over to Valis and cupping the sides of his neck with both of his strong hands. “Let’s go spar. It will help release some of this aggression.”

  Valis relaxed somewhat with Tavros’s fingers kneading the back of his neck near his spine, his thumbs gently rubbing along his pulse points. He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward, reveling in his husband’s touch.

  Over the last few days, Tavros had done all in his power to make up for the times he was an ass when Aryn had been torturing them both. Valis kept telling him he understood, that Tavros didn’t need to make up for anything. But his husband wouldn’t be deterred. Tavros remained attentive and loving, giving Valis what he needed when he needed it. Though, to be fair, Valis loved the attention, had begun craving it like a drug which amused Tavros to no end.

  “Come on. No armor. Just scrapping until this aggression bleeds out or we’re unconscious and need scraped off the floor by passing guards.”

  Valis snorted but nodded. He needed something to get this feeling inside to abate so he could think clearly. “Yeah.” He sighed and gave Tavros a chaste kiss. “Thanks. Let’s go.”

  On the way to the arena, Seza stopped them in the halls, Zhasina at her side. Both women stared at Valis as if he’d just risen from the dead. “What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you? You look like you’re about to murder an entire village.”

  Valis ducked his head and sighed. “I kind of feel like that, too.”

  “We’re about to head for a spar,” Tavros said, squeezing Valis’s hand. “He’s frustrated and needs a release.”

  “Just like old days,” Seza muttered. “Though, to be fair, that one time was to get you to stop being an ass, Tav.”

  She studied Valis for a moment and shook her head. “We’ll go with you to keep you both from killing each other. Neither of you have much in the way of restraint when you get going in a spar.”

  Zhasina glanced at her wife with a raised brow. “They are that bad?”

  Seza laughed. “Just wait and see. Though, I guess we could get in our own sparring practice while keeping an eye on them in case of trouble. We need it.”

  “Indeed, we do.” Zhasina looked Valis over, her golden eyes boring into him. “Perhaps not as much as Valis, but we will make do.”

  “What did you two have planned for the day?” Tavros asked as they started walking again, Seza and Zhasina flanking them.

  Zhasina shrugged. “We just returned from spending time with the caravan and letting Zorar and Rasera spend time with their brothers in the Kalutakeni herd.” She reached out and squeezed Valis’s shoulder. “I did not think you would mind.”

  Valis reached up and squeezed her hand in thanks. “I don’t mind at all. Thank you for thinking of him. My mind and schedule have been a mess of late.”

  They made it into the arena shortly after they all went quiet. Valis shucked his shirt, tossing it with Tavros’s on a bench along one of the walls. He rolled his shoulders and glanced around at the others who occupied the space, wondering if any of them would try to put a stop to the spar, because Valis didn’t think he’d be able to stop until he was near unconscious.

  “You need to quit thinking so hard,” Zhasina murmured. “Relax and let your body do what it needs.”

  “Relaxing is near impossible,” Valis said on a sigh. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “Fair enough.” She patted his back and headed to a bare spot where Seza waited for her. Soon after, they began throwing punches and blocking each other’s shots.

  Valis turned away from them and focused on his husband. “How do you want to do this?” Tavros asked. His eyes were so shaded with worry that Valis wished he could comfort him but knew that the only comfort would come when Valis could think straight and perform normal tasks without wanting to throw things and scream his throat raw.

  “We’ll figure it out along the way.” Valis rolled his shoulders again and took his stance. “No holding back. Let’s give Firil something to marvel over when we’re done.”

  Tavros snorted and cracked his neck. “As you wish, my love.”

 
Valis shivered. He’d never get tired of hearing Tavros call him that. But, he put that thought aside and launched himself at Tavros the moment his husband got into position.

  The first punch missed Tavros’s face as his lover dodged to the right. Tavros always was the faster fighter. Five punches hit Valis’s ribs and armpit in rapid succession, but Valis breathed through the pain and leaned into the onslaught. He grappled with Tavros, getting into his personal space. For the first time in days, his mind went blank, and Valis let his body lead.

  With relative ease, Valis kneed Tavros in his side, swept his legs out from under him, and when they both tumbled to the floor, they rolled around, both trying to get the upper hand. Valis became relentless.

  Then hands hauled him up off Tavros. Valis glanced back to find both Seza and Zhasina giving him worried glances. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Valis said, rolling his neck. “I’m fine.”

  “My fault for letting that cheap trick work,” Tavros muttered. “We’re good.”

  The girls released Valis, and he cupped Tavros’s neck. “You sure?”

  Tavros grinned. “We’re just getting started. You backing out now?”

  “Never.”

  “Then get into position and let’s get sweaty.”

  Now that they were out of their body lock, Valis started to feel the bruises forming. The pain brought much needed clarity, and he stared at Tavros as they got into their stances. His husband had his hands balled into loose fists, protecting his face just like Valis. He bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting for Valis to strike first, and all Valis wanted to do was lock bodies and grapple.

  Maybe that was just his libido talking. He had to get his head back into the game. This fight was to help his aggression and frustration, not to make him horny.

  But maybe sex would also help with the aggression and frustration…

  Then again, they’d tried that the last few days, and it hadn’t worked. And as they started throwing punches, blocking, dodging, and landing powerful kicks to ribs, thighs, backs and abdomens, Valis wondered why fighting was helping so much when more enjoyable practices failed.

  Tavros landed a hard punch to the side of Valis’s head, knocking his vision out for a brief moment. When it came back, he tried to shake off the triple vision. It went down to doubles, and when he could see only a single Tavros before him, he roared and redoubled his efforts, landing a good four solid punches and two kicks before Tavros knew what hit him.

  “That all you got?” Tavros taunted when he regained his balance. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and grinned, showing bloody teeth. “You’re holding back. Quit it.”

  Valis tongued the split on the inside of his cheek and nodded. The aggression still bubbled in his gut like poison, and he needed to get it out to be anywhere near productive in the coming days. Already a plan was formulating in his mind, but it was just the bare bones. He needed to flesh it out.

  Raising his fists to protect his face, Valis took position again. This time, Tavros became the initial aggressor and threw a series of quick punches that Valis easily dodged and blocked. He caught Tavros in the armpit with a powerful kick that knocked him off his feet. Valis helped him up, and they went at it again.

  Sweat dripped down the length of Valis’s spine, soaked his hair. He didn’t dare wipe it off his forehead or temples for fear of getting knocked out by Tavros’s solid fists. He ducked a right hook and leaned into the next punch, landing two to either side of Tavros’s ribs.

  And as he lost himself in the fight, as the arena faded away into a soft haze, Valis found his center. Everything faded away. The noises from the others training in the arena bled away into silence only punctuated by the gasps, grunts, and heavy breathing coming from himself and Tavros. The lights dimmed except for where he and his lover fought. His muscles burned in a pleasant way. And every bruise that bloomed on his skin and in his muscles brought his clarity to new heights until Valis felt like he was in another world altogether.

  Valis became aware of nothing except the fight, almost like a meditation. He focused on the next flex and release, the next step of his feet, the next punch.

  And as the fight wore on, Valis barely noticed the aggression slipping away. The frustration faded. All that mattered was the pain and victory. In this moment, Valis had nothing to be frustrated about. His aggression had a clear outlet. His mind had nothing to stew over, nothing to overthink, nothing to obsess over.

  Tavros landed another punch to Valis’s sensitive ribs, and Valis caught him in the side of the head with a left hook. They traded bruising blows like they did kisses in the night as they drifted off to sleep. It was almost holy, a dance between lovers that made everything that Valis had been carrying around release their grasps on him and leave him calm and sated.

  A hard kick to his calf nearly sent Valis to the floor. He staggered and came up with an uppercut to Tavros’s jaw as he closed the distance, trying to get Valis on the floor. They almost went tumbling when Tavros staggered forward, his wits momentarily scrambled. Valis fought for control enough to stop the fight, just long enough for Tavros’s eyes to quit rolling.

  He steadied Tavros with hands on his shoulders, keeping him from staggering around half the arena. “You okay?”

  “Just fine,” Tavros grunted. “Give me a minute. The room’s still spinning.”

  “I think it’s time to call a stop,” Seza muttered.

  Valis glanced over, and her face was swollen. Zhasina fared no better. He swung his gaze around to look at Tavros again, and noticed that his swollen lips were split, both eyes were swollen and starting to blacken, his nose was bloody, and he had red marks all along his torso. Valis feared what was below the belt hidden by his uniform pants.

  And Valis wondered just how bad he looked. If his lover was any indication, he must be a sight to behold.

  “Firil is going to have a field day,” Zhasina said as she wiped a trail of blood on the sleeve of her tunic. “We’re all a mess. Especially you, Tavros. I think Valis proved his point, yes?”

  Tavros shrugged and winced. “Probably.”

  “Come on, brutes,” Seza said. “Let’s go get patched up before we can’t stand anymore. I think the only thing keeping you two upright is adrenaline and two brain cells.”

  Valis limped along behind her. “You’re not far wrong.”

  He headed to the side wall and retrieved his and Tavros’s uniform tunics, passing Tavros’s to him. Neither dared to raise their arms high enough to put them on. They carried their shirts and belts over their arms, walking through the halls like they were two breaths from passing out.

  When he looked over at Seza and Zhasina, they both seemed only a hair better than Valis felt. And everyone who passed them in the halls gawked. A pair of ladies let out low whistles. “Did you have fun?”

  Tavros gave them a rude gesture, making them giggle. “Don’t die on the way to the healer’s ward!”

  “Promise,” Valis muttered.

  When they finally made it to the healing ward and entered the sterile room, Firil came out of his office and looked at them with eyes so wide it was almost comical. “What on earth happened to the four of you?”

  “Sparring sessions,” Zhasina mumbled. Her swollen lips didn’t allow for more coherence than that. “They went well.”

  “So I see,” Firil muttered. “Get on the cots. Gods, you’re all a mess. How bad are the injuries?”

  “No idea,” Valis admitted. “We’ve got above and below the belts.”

  “We at least managed to keep ours above the belts,” Seza said. “We were the smart ones.”

  Firil rolled his eyes and went to wash his hands in the basin in the corner. “That is entirely debatable, young lady.”

  Seza snorted a laugh and all-but fell onto her cot. “Figured.”

  The Master Healer disappeared into a door at the back, and soon he was flocked by seven assistants. He rolled his wrist toward the four of them and sighed. “We h
ave work to do. Please ensure you update their charts. Seza, Zhasina, Valis, and Tavros.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the women said dutifully.

  Then the healing began, and Valis lost consciousness twice. When he woke up the last time, no one stood over him and the lights were dim. Then he glanced around to find Tavros in bed beside him. It took him almost five whole minutes to realize they weren’t in the healing ward anymore. When he glanced around again and blinked the blur from his eyes, he saw the familiar surroundings of their bedroom.

  Rolling over, Valis stretched and let out a contented sigh. Tavros still slept on, and Valis wondered if he could make his mind blank out to follow suit.

  Then his lover’s eyes fluttered open and zeroed in on him. “You’re awake.”

  “It appears so, Mister Obvious.”

  “Wait. How did we get in our room?”

  “Not a clue,” Valis admitted. “I only just woke up.”

  Tavros stretched and flopped onto his back. “Did it work?”

  Valis took a moment to search his thoughts. The frustration was still there, but it was greatly diminished. The anger seemed just out of reach. His body felt blissfully tired, sated in a way that sex couldn’t always accomplish. Closing his eyes, Valis rolled over and rested his head on Tavros’s shoulder. “I think so.”

  “Good.”

  “We should get up.”

  Tavros pressed a kiss into Valis’s hair and made a negative sound in the back of his throat. “No. Sleep, Valis. We should rest before lunch.” He glanced over to the clock on their nightstand and sighed. “We have two hours. Let’s make the most of it.”

  “Are you going to tie me to the bed?”

  His husband stared at him seriously for a moment, his left brow slowly climbing toward his hairline. “Don’t make me. I’m exhausted, and I want to nap with my husband.”

  Chuckling, Valis let his body go lax. “How can I say no to that?”