Apprenticed to Pleasure

by Brandon Fox

  Ander was stunned. “I wouldn’t remember meeting you?” The distress on his face must have been obvious.

  Nicolai squeezed one of his hands. “Don’t get upset about it. It’s necessary. And it’s not as bad as it sounds. If it happens, you won’t miss us. You won’t remember us at all.”

  Ander took a shaky breath. “But I know you now. And I want to stay with you more than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

  Sorel touched his forearm. “Then master the art. We think you can do it. Show Thane your ability and your loyalty. He wants you to succeed too.”

  Ander nodded and sighed. “Is there anything else you can tell me? Anything I should do, or shouldn’t do?”

  Nicolai finished his tea and put the cup down. His expression was thoughtful. “I don’t know if this helps, but it might. Despite all his power and knowledge, he really is a very young man. The art has kept time from hardening his soul.” His expression turned somber. “He was deeply wounded when Lucian died. Though he’s learned to hide it well, sometimes he hurts so much it breaks my heart. You’ll never understand him unless you remember Lucian.”

  Ander nodded. “I’ll remember. But it’s hard to know how to treat him. When I thought he was just a sexy kitchen helper trying to seduce me, there was no problem. But when I found out who he really was, I didn’t know what to say.”

  Nicolai stood and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t have any answers for you. All I meant is that he needs friends as much as anybody. Maybe more.”

  Ander pondered the advice as he followed Nicolai and Sorel out of the dining room, across the courtyard, and up a flight of stairs in the tower. He had no idea how to befriend a powerful sorcerer. He remembered the playful way Thane had introduced himself and had to admit the mage had seemed a lot like his horny friend Leif. A jumble of conflicting emotions and ideas churned in his mind. He was still trying to sort them out when Nicolai opened the door to a cozy room overlooking the courtyard.

  “This is one of the workrooms,” Sorel said as they entered the oak-paneled room.

  A huge leather cushion lay in the center of the floor. It was the same as the one in the mirrored chamber, except that an ornate band of red and purple triangles decorated the rim. The remainder of the room was similar to the study he’d seen the night before: bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes and small sculptures, an intricate rug, a shallow fireplace with a warm fire, and leaded-glass windows decorated with colored glass diamonds and circles.

  “Wait here while we find Thane,” Nicolai said. He gestured at the cushion. “Take a nap if you want. He might be delayed by other tasks.”

  “Thanks.” They closed the door behind them when they left. Ander crouched by the fire a few minutes, warming his hands. He had forgotten to ask about getting warm clothes and expected that he’d be frozen solid by now if it weren’t for Nicolai’s leather shirt, which he still wore. As soon as he was warm, he began exploring the room.

  As he wandered by a mahogany bookcase with leaded-glass doors, he felt a strange sensation in his head. His hackles rose, the way they would if a snarling dog had lunged at him, though there was nothing that could have stirred such a reaction. He looked around warily.

  The sensation surged back, stronger than before, as his gaze passed over the leather-covered tomes in the bookcase. The unsettling effect made him shiver. Why should books make him feel as if he was about to be flogged? He stood before the bookcase, gritting his teeth and trying to get control of his rebellious body, before putting a hand on the bookcase door’s latch.

  “Ow!” He snatched his hand back and shook it. It was numb, and for a panicky moment he feared it might be permanently injured. But in a few seconds it started tingling, and soon feeling returned. He stepped back from the bookcase, now wary of exploring too boldly.

  Deciding that the cushion was the safest place to wait, he retreated to the middle of the room and stretched out. He crossed his arms beneath his head and closed his eyes. The sigh of wind blowing against the windows and the scent of hickory smoke from the fireplace were soothing. The morning’s events had left him pleasantly fatigued. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.

  STRONG sunlight slanting through the window fell across his face. He stretched and rubbed his eyes sleepily. When he opened them, he saw Thane sitting cross-legged beside the cushion, watching him. His expression was unreadable.

  He sat up with a start, flustered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I… I hope you don’t mind—”

  Thane held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. I needed a little time to rest too.” He hesitated, cautious. “Sorel tells me you play the guitar. Are you good at it?”

  Ander blushed and then gave a slight shrug. “Not bad, I suppose.” Something in Thane’s expression, a hint of wistfulness, made him elaborate. “Well, pretty good, really. I love music. Would you like me to play for you sometime?”

  A flicker of emotion, quickly concealed, tugged at Thane’s eyes. “Maybe.” His voice was little more than a whisper.

  Ander gulped, wondering what he’d said that could have been upsetting. He struggled for words to fill the awkward silence.

  After a few seconds, Thane seemed to shake himself. His thick brown hair shimmered in the sunlight, and when he smiled the whole room brightened. “Sorel and Nicolai say the test went well.”

  Ander’s reserve quickly thawed. For a moment he forgot the mage’s powers and saw him only as a friendly young man. He grinned back, basking in Thane’s warmth and in pleasure at the encouraging report.

  “It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt. You were right about bedding them. It’s something I’ll never forget.”

  Thane grew serious. “They also said they told you what happens if you don’t qualify for the training.”

  His spirits sank as quickly as they had soared moments before. “Oh. Yes, they did.” He looked down, miserable, but steeled himself not to moan about it. Thane had good reasons for his rules. He lifted his head and looked him in the eye. “I support your cause. I’ll do what’s necessary. I’d hate it if it meant forgetting, but I’d do it.”

  Thane nodded solemnly. “I wouldn’t like it either.” Then he brightened, like an irrepressible teenager. “So let’s hope we never have to think about it again. Are you ready to continue the testing?”

  “If it’s anything like the first part, yes!” He blushed, remembering what the next test would likely involve, but a quick glance showed that no embarrassment was necessary. Thane was grinning from ear to ear.

  “Let’s begin, then.” Thane sprang up from the floor, graceful as a stag. He wore cotton pants and a loose shirt that fell open in the front. Ander caught a tantalizing glimpse of tan skin and strong torso as the mage strode to a buffet and picked up a black lacquer tray.

  He returned and put the tray on the floor. Settling onto the cushion again, he poured cerulean liqueur from a crystal decanter into two small cups. He handed one to Ander, then picked up the other.

  “This helps overcome the barriers between mind and body. It expands awareness. Using the art requires learning to think with your body and feel with your mind. The elixir might make you feel strange at first, but it won’t harm us.” He lifted his cup in a toast. “To success in our quest.”

  Ander raised his glass and then drank. A smoky mint flavor swept through him like a cool breeze. Almost immediately he felt lightheaded.

  Thane put their glasses back on the tray. “Keep still,” he advised. “It might take you a few minutes to adjust to the potion’s effects. I’ll tell you a little about the art while we’re waiting.”

  Rising to his feet, apparently not at all affected by the liqueur, he went to the bookcase where Ander had been taken by surprise. He reached for the latch.

  “Watch out!” Ander blurted. “There’s something strange—”

  But Thane had already touched the latch. The bookcase door swung open. He pulled down a large volume bound in dark green leather.

  “No
need to worry. The books know me. Soon they’ll know you too.” He returned to the cushion and put the book in front of them, then rested his hand on its cover.

  “Put your hand on top of mine,” he instructed. “I’ll shield you from the cantrip while the spell learns to recognize you.”

  Ander felt like a dunce, realizing how foolish it was to warn a mage in his own house. He cautiously touched the sorcerer’s hand and felt a faint tingle running up his arm. Reassured, he pressed his hand down flat on top of Thane’s. He was still feeling disoriented and hoped he wouldn’t need to do anything difficult. But Thane merely closed his eyes. A brief flare of blue light pulsed around their hands, and the tingling vanished.

  Thane opened his eyes, filled with unmistakable pride. “I’ve given you entry to our most important book, the gramarye curiosa.” He picked up the volume and handed it to Ander. “Go ahead, open it.”

  His excitement was infectious. Ander placed the heavy book across his knees. The leather seemed warm to the touch, as if the book were alive. Goose bumps prickled his neck as he opened the cover. An aroma of honeysuckle mingled with roses lifted from the pages. It made him think of late summer in the garden behind Lady Tayanita’s house. He began leafing through the book.

  Thane leaned close, his thigh touching Ander’s. The book’s first section combined text and detailed botanical paintings. They were meticulously accurate and beautifully executed, almost glowing on the creamy parchment.

  “These are the plants we use to make oils, perfumes, lubricants, incense, and potions,” Thane said. He pointed to tight script filling the bottom half of each page. “These are notes on cultivation, harvesting, and processing the plants. Each step has to be exactly right or the effects don’t work.”

  Ander turned the pages, amazed at the number of entries. “Who made the paintings? They’re beautiful.”

  Thane looked pleased. “I did. It’s relaxing to paint after spending all day in the greenhouse or a workroom.” He took a deep breath, hesitating. “Especially if there’s music to listen to. Maybe… maybe you’d let me paint while you practice the guitar?”

  “Gladly.” He was surprised how quickly Thane put him at ease. He stole a sidelong glance at the mage. The sense of distance between them was starting to fade as he continued turning pages. Eventually the paintings were replaced by page upon page of tight script.

  “This section explains mental exercises to help expand awareness of the kei. We’ll work through this later, a bit at a time.” He leaned forward and flipped through a thick section of pages. The fragrance of his hair, fresh and clean like a forest in the early morning, swirled through Ander’s senses. He felt himself getting hard and was grateful for the large book covering his lap. Perhaps the potion was making him perceive everything more clearly, but he couldn’t be sure. The warm pressure of Thane’s thigh pressing against him began to feel intensely erotic.

  Thane paused with his hand on the edge of a page and looked up expectantly. “Here’s my favorite part.”

  Ander’s breath caught. A painting filled the next page, as detailed and richly colored as the botanical paintings. But this one showed two young men: a trim athlete stretched on his back coupling with a longhaired beauty rearing above him. Vibrant designs covered their bodies and highlighted the patterns of their muscles. He flushed crimson but stared in fascination as his arousal blossomed.

  Tilting the book to catch the light, he examined the faces of the models. His eyes grew wide. “It’s Sorel and Nicolai!” He looked at Thane. “Did you paint these too?”

  “Yes. All of them.” He turned another page. “Here, take a look at these.”

  Dazed, Ander watched wordlessly as Thane turned the pages and explained the magical effects the different configurations were designed to achieve. Each painting showed two or more men making love, from the earliest foreplay to the point of orgasm and everywhere in between. It was a dazzling display of sexual imagination. His cock ached, and the drug made it nearly impossible to ignore his body’s demands. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he listened to enthusiastic comments on the virtues and difficulties of various positions.

  Finally Thane noticed his silence. Looking chagrined, he closed the book and put it on the floor beside the cushion. “I’m sorry. I got distracted and forgot what you’re going through.” He regarded Ander’s rigid body with a sympathetic eye. “Yes. I can tell the potion is doing its work. You’ve responded strongly. Sorel might be right about your potential.”

  Ander nodded and licked his lips nervously, his erection almost painful. “This potion. It seems to be… affecting me.” He glanced in the direction of his crotch.

  Thane looked at the prominent bulge. “The potion focuses your mind on the sensations you’ve already got. So if you’re randy, you notice it more.” He slid a hand onto his own crotch. “I’m horny too,” he cheerfully confessed. “Looking at the gramarye curiosa usually has that effect on me.” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “You look flushed. That probably is from the potion. I’m warm too. Let’s get out of these shirts.”

  Thane shrugged his shirt off and tossed it aside without waiting for a reply. His wide shoulders tapered to slender hips, and his skin was tawny from labor under the sun. His torso was smooth and powerful.

  Ander blinked, momentarily overwhelmed, before pulling his shirt over his head. “That feels better,” he agreed. It felt a little strange, being half-undressed in such luxurious surroundings, but Thane taking the lead made it feel acceptable. The mage’s gaze swept over his strong shoulders and flat midriff, his expression approving.

  “What’s next?” Ander asked. He shifted his hips slightly, reminding Thane of his arousal.

  “We’ll start with simple touch. Remember, the elixir entwines your mind and body more closely than you’re accustomed to. We’ll need to be careful, since sensations will seem more intense.” He extended a hand. “Are you ready?”

  “I’m so ready I can hardly stand it.” He took Thane’s hand in his own, then drew it to his lips and kissed it. He closed his eyes as the mage’s fingers grazed over his brow, across his cheek, and down the side of his neck. Sensation raced across his skin like lightning. He gasped when the light caress reached his right nipple. If Thane touched his cock now, he knew he’d come. Then he remembered Nicolai’s advice. Your partner’s pleasure is more important than your own.

  “That feels wonderful,” he said softly, opening his eyes. “But I’d like to find out how you feel.”

  “Of course,” Thane agreed. He leaned back on the cushion, his strong body shining in the warm sunlight. “Feel whatever you like.” He flashed a sexy smile, then closed his eyes.

  Ander stretched out beside Thane and propped himself up on an elbow. Then, tentatively, he brushed the fingers of his other hand along the side of Thane’s neck. The mage sighed and shifted on the cushion. Ander’s fingers trailed lower, over the ribs and up to the domed chest. He could feel each muscle beneath the honey-colored skin. On an impulse, he pressed his palm against Thane’s taut flesh; it felt like Leif’s body, only with more muscle. Unbidden, he wondered if Thane came as hot and hard as Leif. The thought made him shiver. His pulse racing, he let his hand slide down the torso. The heartbeat seemed to thunder beneath his fingers, and he imagined he could feel blood racing through the muscles.

  Thane opened his eyes and met Ander’s gaze. “I’d like more than your hand.”

  “How about this?” Ander rolled on top of him, pressing their bodies together, then gathered him in his arms and kissed him.

  The crash of the door slamming open hit Ander like lightning. He sprang up, heart pounding. Sorel stood in the doorway, breathless, eyes wide with alarm.

  “A seeker spell just passed over the valley! It might have felt us. We have to divert it fast or we’ll be found.”

  Thane was already on his feet and heading for the door, not pausing to pick up his shirt. “You come too,” he called to Ander. Then Thane and Sorel were out the do
or and racing down the corridor. All he could do was follow.

  Chapter 10

  HE RACED down the corridor behind Thane and Sorel, their boots clattering on the stone floor. In moments they were sprinting up the tower’s spiral staircase. The elixir made his head spin, but he arrived at the workroom on the tower’s top floor only seconds behind his friends. A small group clustered near the door. They saw Thane and all started talking at once.

  “Quiet!” Thane shouted as he reached the crowd. He made eye contact with an older woman in the back of the gathering. “Anna, you were using the workroom this morning?”

  The woman nodded. “I saw it all. I’ll show you.”

  Thane followed her into the workroom, and the crowd flowed in behind them. They surrounded a black granite pool in the middle of the room. Four feet high and ten feet long on each side, the tightly fitted blocks had been chiseled out to hold water. Steam swirled up from its opaque green surface, and a biting metallic tang filled the air.

  Ander glanced around the room. The chamber was spacious, with a higher ceiling than the rooms on lower floors. Light poured through clear windows inlaid with prisms, splitting into rainbows and painting the stone walls with rich color. Oak trestle tables were cluttered with books, strange implements, bottles of colored liquids, and jars packed with dried plants.

  Thane leaned over the pool, waving his hand to clear the vapors and peering into the water. His nose wrinkled at the evil smell. “What happened, Anna? And exactly when?”

  The woman frowned and pushed wet strands of gray hair back from her eyes. “I was over there, working on a medicinal ointment.” She pointed to a table where a red book lay open beside a large mortar and pestle. “The first thing I noticed was that smell. It was stronger than it is now. I was scalding toxins out of raffia bark, and the water was steaming hard.” Her mouth turned down in a disgusted frown. “I turned to look. The vapors took on the shape of a face. Twisted and screaming, like a person under torture.”