by Amy Lane
That were all he had in him, though. When he were done answering my question, his head slumped forward, and Hammer and I looked at each other grimly. Whatever the bond of flesh and magic holding this man together, we needed to sever it, and quickly.
I don’t like to think about the next few moments, and Hammer and I never speak of them. We were skinning a bear alive. We were saving a friend’s life. We were taking away the majesty and salvaging the battered human beneath.
When all were done, we had a pile of fur pieces at our feet, like some grim butcher’s keep, and an unconscious, naked man, covered in blood.
“Water,” Hammer said, his voice ripe with disgust. “We need water.”
I thought about my visit to the cave, and what I knew of the land. “I think the stream that runs past the cottage runs by the cave!” I told him, anxious to have something, anything to do.
He closed his eyes thoughtfully, as though trying to remember. “Aye,” he answered, and we met eyes.
“He took you last night,” I said, putting words to the things we hadn’t had time to speak of.
“Aye,” he answered again, looking away. I couldn’t bear him looking away, and Hammer started to speak heavily, as though this needed confessing before we could move forward. “He told me… he told me you would leave me, eventually. That I… a man like me… I could not do for you like you deserved.”
“I told you….” I started bitterly, hurt inside that he should have ever thought that.
And now he looked me in the eyes. “Aye. There will always be a Hammer and an Eirn.” He believed it this time. I could see it, and we were free. “Now come on, one of us on either side, let’s get this bugger to the stream and wash this stench off our skin.”
The trip through the cave didn’t do much more than make our skin tingle as we passed through the line of where the lands were magic and where they weren’t. We kept going, though, and while a part of me grieved for our little cottage, the rest of me were too tired to grieve. We passed a small chamber—a chesterfield and a soft pile of rugs and what looked to be a feather mattress, and even a shelf for books—that were carved incongruously into a dent on the side of the cave, but we were too tired, and too urgent of the blood crusting on our skin to want to linger.
It were only midday, but it felt like midnight, and the glare of a sun in the late depth of summer near to blinded us as we came out on the other side. We didn’t think on it then, we knew we’d lived but a season, not much more, in the little cottage, but we had no idea what had happened outside of us. At the time, we had more pressing matters to attend.
We heard the stream almost as soon as we burst into the daylight on the outside of the cave. It weren’t deep, maybe to Hammer’s thighs, and we dropped our knapsacks at the banks, and together we dragged our prince out to the middle of it, and let the water sluice over him. I asked Hammer to hold him in place, and I went to my pack, finding a few bars of the cedar soap the cottage had enjoyed to give us in the bottom. I brought one out, and a cloth, and went about washing the crusted blood from the prince, who revived a little in the stream, and took some water after it ran clean around him. We took him back to the bank and dressed him in one of my sets of fine linen small clothes, then stripped our own clothes off and plunged right back into the chilly, shaded running water, using the soap and the cloth and the heavenly coolness, and yes, we, too, drank some of the fresh running water when it were clear about our bodies.
Hammer looked at me with weary, violence-shocked eyes and said, “Maybe tomorrow this will be a whole other thing,” as he eyed me, naked in the sunshine, and I smiled shyly back.
“Maybe.”
But first we had to take the shelter we’d been offered, and see that our companion would live through the day.
We went back to the small room and set the prince up on the chesterfield, pulling one of the blankets from the bed on the floor up over his shaking shoulders. At the feeling of comfort, he sighed, whimpered a little and fell asleep. Hammer sat by his feet, and I sat by his head, stroking his hair off his brow like the teachers at the orphanage had done for us when we were sick. Eventually the shaking stopped, and he breathed easy in his own skin.
Hammer and I shared some of the meat and bread then, so tired from the horror and the physical act of skinning a bear in so short a time that we ate with our eyes half closed.
In a few moments, we were asleep on the pallet on the floor. It were warm in the cave, but our bodies were cool enough from bathing in the stream that we still felt comfortable being close to each other, and Hammer’s arm were flung about my middle. I wove my fingers with his before we closed our eyes.
Part XI
Golden Boy, Golden Future
I awoke to the smell of morning, my body stiff from lying down so long. A faint gray light were peeking in from the mouth of the cave. Turning my head, I saw Hammer, his arm flung over my back as I slept, the rest of him relaxed in his own sleep. At the orphanage, Hammer slept in a tight little ball, muscular and self-contained. Until we shared the bed in the cottage, I’d never seen his hard, busy body limp and at peace.
A quiet voice called my name, and I turned my head and squinted into the face of the prince.
“Hmm?”
“Eirn, I need you to wake up for a minute.”
“You can talk now?” I tried to shake the sleep from my head. I knew he could talk on this side of the magic.
“Yes, but not for long.”
He were dressed and groomed—and blond. The darkness of his shoulder-length hair had apparently been shed with his bear pelt, because his head were as gold as a miser’s dreams. His clothes were rich and fine—velvets and brocades and intricate needlework. I wondered where that suit had been hiding in this snug little room.
I squinted again, trying to reconcile the time. “Were there magic in that sleep?” I asked, trying to make sense, and he nodded and looked away, ashamed.
“I’m afraid so. When I realized my men were coming, I put you under.”
I frowned. “You’re a wizard then?”
He grimaced. “I’m a king. A little bit of minor magic runs in the family.”
I frowned some more. “If you’re a bloody king, what were you doing running through the woods, eating fish and scaring bees and fucking peasants?”
That surprised a laugh from him. “Well, the eating of fish and scaring of bees is natural for a bear. The fucking of peasants,” his face softened, grew sweet and far away, “that was a rather wonderful benefit that I had not expected.”
“Well glory for us,” I grunted and pushed myself carefully up to sitting. Hammer whimpered a little and rolled into himself, and I put a hand on his hip to quiet him. Maybe it weren’t the cottage that let him sleep as open as a child.
The prince (or king, I guess, but I’d thought of him as “the prince” for so long it were hard to stop) chuckled a little and then sank to a crouch and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Listen, Eirn. This is important. My kingdom is to the west, by the sea. You follow this stream out for a bit; you’ll come to the shore, and I’m to the north. We do have a bit of magic in us—enough to make sure that the man who is about to get the throne isn’t a madman or an idiot. When the monarch passes and before the next king succeeds, there is a… a test. We come into this cave, where we know is home, shed our clothes and walk through the cave. Sometimes it lasts a week, sometimes it lasts a year. Sometimes it lasts five. We have regents in place until the test is over, and no king who has ever ruled has spoken, not even once, about his time on the other side.”
“Until now?”
The prince nodded. “Yes. I think now would be a good time to break the silence.” He sighed then, and the crouch must have grown wearing on his knees, because he sat his bottom down on a corner of the blanket and drew his knees to his chest.
“My father is… was a good man. He arranged a marriage for me—with my permission—to a lovely girl. One of my best friends, actually, and when I return, I shall ma
rry her.” He didn’t sound upset about it. In fact, he sounded happy.
“But?” I didn’t think much of myself, now did I?
“But why would I think I was in love with you?” he prompted gently, and I nodded.
“Because I am. Don’t worry,” he added hastily, because I must have looked as panicked as I felt, “don’t worry. I’m not going to try anything stupid. Or ignoble. Or mean. Not now. Not ever again. You see, the reason we do this is to learn something about ourselves. I saw you. And for all you and Hammer look alike, all I saw was… was you. And all you saw was…” he trailed off.
“Hammer,” I supplied gently. “It were always Hammer.”
He nodded sadly. “I know. I knew then. But… well, I’m spoiled,” he grimaced at my snort, “and you knew that. You guessed it when I walked in your door. I thought that the reason behind my spell was to help me find the love of my life. I was sure of it—the idea possessed me. It’s why…” he blushed. “It doesn’t excuse what I did—and I can hardly apologize, because I don’t think the words can ever tell you how sorry I am. But I was obsessed with it. I was there to find someone else, to find a reason to step away from the adulthood I knew was drawn out for me, and into a life I had found for myself.” His face grew avid for a moment, possessed by the idea, and then he lost his enthusiasm, and turned thoughtful.
“I learned something else entirely,” he said after a pause. “I learned about loving your best friend, and about how even that is work. I learned the difference between love and lust, between caring and wanting, and between needing physically and needing in your heart. And yesterday, when I’d behaved my absolute worst, I learned about sacrificing for someone who had wronged you, simply because that someone was human, and in pain. Don’t ever mistake it, Eirn—you and Hammer have much to teach any prince. Even a headstrong one who was too foolish to take no for an answer.”
I sighed and looked away. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” I said, embarrassed, and he chuckled.
“You were very gracious, Eirn, don’t ever doubt it. Now listen—we’re running out of time. In a fraction of an hour my men will be here. The breaking of the geas is a thing the entire kingdom will feel, and they’ve been waiting for their king. My kingdom is a good one, Eirn, and a growing one. They need tradesmen—and a blacksmith and a printer will have a place. I’ve left you things in a small satchel on the couch—please take them.”
“Things?” I scowled, uncomfortable with gifts, but he were having none of it.
“Gold, for one, and if he’s too stubborn to take it,” a fierce nod at Hammer, “then I expect better from you.”
“Not too much better!” I snapped, but he were a king, now, and he could just run right over me.
“Please take it, Eirn,” he said, and his tone was firm and unapologetic. “Take the gold, and take the deed to the land at the forest’s edge, and take the king’s pardon as well.”
My mouth went dry. “Pardon?”
“Yes. Pardon. You and Hammer have been gone for five years at this point—”
“Wait—you just up and left your kingdom for five years?”
“No, I left my kingdom for a few weeks at a time, to come meet with an advisor when it was needed. There’s a reason for this apartment in the cave, Eirn.” He took a deep breath then and looked away, as though feeling guilty.
“But you’re right. I must have been away from my lands for far too long if that hunter felt free to come through the cave and plant a trap. That is my wrong. I don’t know how I’ll catch the hunter—”
“No need to catch him,” I grunted, remembering the moment sickly. “He’s dead, and left to rot somewhere out of sight of the cottage. Rutting fucker. I hope the gods piss on him for an eternity.”
The prince looked pained. “Well, I’m sorry for that—and I should thank you as well, although I rather hope you don’t make a habit of killing every fucker who gets in your way. Now we’re running out of time, so we need to move on. You and Hammer have been gone for near to five years, so your crime is old, but there are still stories told about the brothers who killed. In the satchel is a royal pardon, and there will be fliers posted in the trade section of the kingdom. You two can walk through my streets with your heads held high—but I’m not sure if you can walk through any others, do you understand?”
I nodded. “We were heading for the western kingdoms anyway,” I said, thinking to myself.
“What happened?” he asked softly. “You almost made it.”
I looked at him, sitting there with his arms around his knees. He were older than Hammer and me by about ten years, it seemed, but there were still a bit of boy in him.
“Hammer got attacked by a mountain cat. He managed to kill the cat, but he were dying of infection when we found the cottage.” I shuddered. Five years? It had been but a scant handful of months to us, and it were still too near a thing.
The prince’s pat on my thigh were nothing but a friend’s reassurance, and I caught his hand, grateful.
“I’m going back to my kingdom,” he said then. “I’m going back to marry my friend, and if the gods are kind and forgiving, we can be half as happy as you and your Hammer.” There were the far away clatter of horses and shouts of men, and he stood reluctantly to his feet.
“I’m going to go out and meet them—no worries. I don’t think the two of you would be comfortable with so many people, and,” he blushed, “you two still feel like my secret. My best and happiest time in my life. My kingdom would probably be titillated by my sexual escapades, but it would be no large thing. I would still be honored….” He trailed off, still blushing.
“We won’t tell no tales,” I said simply. “What we were to each other, that were private.”
He rose then and brushed unnecessarily at his trousers. “It was private,” he said gratefully. “And it was wonderful. And you two may not fully see the importance in it, but it could be the one thing in my life that will ever be completely mine. Thank you for understanding that.”
I made to get up, and he waved me off. “Go back to sleep by Hammer. I’ll leave you some more food. I want to think of you two, sleeping here, when I leave.” He gave another smile, this one with a twist to it and bright, hot looking eyes.
I nodded, willing to give him something. “No worries. And thank you for all your pains. It’s a little bit of trouble for someone named after the air, isn’t it?”
He looked puzzled for a moment. “Air? Is that what you think your name means?” He let out a soft, bitter laugh. “‘Eir’ means ‘dream’, Eirn. It’s one of the reasons I was so obsessed with you—your name. I thought it meant you were my dream.” His smile then were whole, but tears cut a dusty track down his cheeks. He bent and kissed my temple, and they fell into my hair.
“It turns out I was right.”
With that, he turned to leave.
“Wait a moment,” I said, and there were a terrible, forbidden hope in his eyes. I felt cruel for squashing it. “Can we have your name? All of that, our skin together, and I don’t even know your name.”
His smile were bittersweet, as though I had given him a most cherished gift, and it hurt him just the same.
“Behrens,” he said, and I snorted.
“It figures!”
He grinned at me, and it were that face, that young man’s enthusiasm and old man’s wisdom that I would see in him for many years. “It does indeed. I hope to see you soon. If nothing else, try to make it to the kingdom for the wedding, yes?”
And before I could answer, he were gone. I heard men’s voices outside the cave, and the clatter of horse tack and the dust-stirring tramp of big animals. In a moment there were the thunder of the lot of them as they rode off, and only Hammer and I were left in the quiet of the cave.
“Dream, huh?” Hammer muttered into the pillow where he’d curled. He stretched a little and turned toward me, his arms open. “I could have told him that.”
I went into his arms willingly. “You were a
wake for all of that?”
I felt his shrug around my shoulders. “It seemed only right to give him a few moments of you before he left.”
I felt only a little bit of regret to think that were the only part of me the prince would get.
Part XII
The Color of Roses
A month later, just as autumn’s coat turned fiery, Hammer and I stood in the streets of our adopted kingdom and cheered with the rest of the world as the king and his new bride paraded through the streets on horses as big as our flat.
The cottage were still a dream, but one in the making. We’d taken the prince’s gold, and the deed to his land, and walked to the kingdom with prospects and will and the skills to back them up. We’d started digging the foundations already, and looked to pour the aggregate before the snows came and undid our hard work. After the snows, we’d start on our home in earnest.
We’d both found places to work—me at a printer’s and Hammer at a smith’s, and Hammer looked to be in a position to buy the smithy in not too much time. Our flat above the place were just as we’d pictured it, lying side by side at the orphanage, when we were nobbut more than children.
It were nice—we made it nice. We brought flowers from the woods around our small property and we bought the flawed tapestries and old furniture offered by the other tradesmen in our quarter. It were a home, albeit a temporary one, and in those first days, coming home after working at the printers or at the smithies, and knowing the other one would be there, were all that needed to make it so.
It must have been so. It were there, in that first, makeshift flat, that Hammer let me take him, and he learned that possession meant more than “to endure.” Our coming together would never be anything but lovemaking after that. “Enduring” weren’t to be any part of the life that we would forge.
So it were with nothing but goodwill and a desire to see the fanfare that Hammer and I stood in the crowd, prepared to throw flowers at the King Behrens and his bride, Marianne. We were surprised, more than surprised, when he brought the entire wedding train to a halt in front of where we stood.
