The Bastard’s Pearl

by Connie Bailey

  Luks kissed Sheyn’s cheek. “Remember what I said about—”

  “I remember everything you say.” Sheyn smiled at Luks and then followed Kashyan.

  “Don’t dawdle,” Kashyan said as he walked swiftly down the hall.

  Sheyn matched Kashyan stride for stride until they reached the courtyard again. Kashyan’s charger was waiting, laden with a pair of saddlebags, a quiver of javelins, and a large bedroll. Next to the warhorse was a tall gray courser with a bridle and saddle of black leather. Sheyn glanced at Kashyan, and Kashyan nodded. Smiling delightedly, Sheyn went to the gray horse and made his acquaintance. The gelding seemed to approve of Sheyn, accepting half a honey cake and standing docilely as Sheyn got into the saddle. Sheyn put his saber in the sheath sewn to the saddle skirt and noted the pair of long knives, one on each side of the pommel.

  “Thank you,” Sheyn said to Kashyan.

  “He’s yours until the couriers need him again. There should be a pair of gloves tucked away somewhere.”

  Sheyn found the gloves under the sheepskin saddle pad and put them on, snugging them down between his fingers and pulling the cuffs up. The leather was supple but thick enough to protect his hands from rein burn and long enough to save him the sting of a bowstring. He looked up when Kashyan spoke to him.

  “I’m not taking you with me on a whim,” Kashyan said. “This will be hard on you, but I can’t bear to leave you here. We’ll be living in the saddle except for a few hours’ sleep in the middle of the day. It’ll be rough, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  “Are you ready, then?”

  Sheyn nodded.

  “We’re going out the postern gate and making our way along the back of the ridge. We don’t want Ognyan’s scouts knowing we’re leaving the fortress.”

  “Ognyan!”

  “I assumed you’d heard already. The Sumadinim are camped just below our outer ring of sentries. They haven’t declared their intentions yet, but it seems plain what they want.”

  “Your head?” Sheyn guessed.

  Kashyan didn’t answer. He was looking up at the wall where a sentry was raising a horn to his lips. The signal for approaching enemy riders rang out against the stone, and Kashyan leaped down from the saddle. As Kashyan ran for the stairs, Kholya charged out of the fortress with his sword in his hand. Kashyan waved to Kholya and they climbed to the parapet together. After a few moments, Sheyn followed them.

  “Kholya of Savaan!” called out the herald at the head of the small party of Sumadi nobles. “King Ognyan requires speech with you.”

  “That’s Sumadi manners for you,” Kholya said to Kashyan. “I suppose I should see what they want.”

  “Stay out of arrow range,” Kashyan said. “Sumadi honor is a lot like Sumadi manners. They have none.”

  “We really should talk about your cynicism, little brother.” Kholya stepped forward and raised his voice. “I’m Prince Kholya and leader of the Horde of the Hawk. What says Ognyan of Sumadin to me?”

  “King Ognyan!” roared the big man in the center of the Sumadi delegation.

  “Come and say it to my face,” Kholya invited.

  Ignoring the protests of his officers, Ognyan spurred his horse forward until he was beside the herald. “I’ll shout your shame to the Gods,” he told Kholya.

  “Be so kind as to tell me first.”

  “You know your offense. You’re hiding the man who killed King Yevdjen.”

  “Hiding?” Kashyan came to stand next to Kholya. “All the world knows where the Bastard of Savaan is. What took you so long to find me?”

  Kholya somehow managed to keep the smirk from his lips, but he thoroughly enjoyed Ognyan’s reaction to Kashyan’s implied insult. “We’re not here to exchange pleasantries,” Kholya said. “What is it you want, Ognyan?”

  “The Bastard’s head on a pole.”

  “That is not mine to give, I’m sorry to say.”

  “Then you leave me no choice but to come and take it for myself.”

  “That didn’t work so well the last time we met,” Kashyan said.

  “So you admit you were in Sumadin when the king was murdered,” shouted the herald.

  “I was in Sumadin to kill the man who dishonored my mother, if that’s what you mean.”

  Sheyn stifled a snort behind Kashyan’s broad back. He was certain his amusement would not be well received, and for once, he didn’t want to attract attention. He’d only met Ognyan briefly, but he remembered him well and didn’t care to meet him again. As though he’d cursed himself, his blood went cold when Ognyan spoke again.

  “You have something else that belongs to me,” Ognyan said. “A white-haired daaksi.”

  “You claim Pearl as yours?” Kholya asked before Kashyan could answer.

  “He was a gift to me from King Yevdjen, and I’ll have him back.”

  “No, you won’t,” Kashyan said.

  “You’re wrong, Bastard,” Ognyan shouted. “I’ll have your head and your brother’s too, if he stands in my way. I’ll take my pleasure of the white witch before your blood cools. And mark me, witch, if you’re listening… you’ll pay a price for your disloyalty.”

  “You won’t put a hand on him,” Kashyan said. “You’ll never be that close.”

  “You sound very sure of that.”

  “I am sure, because I’ll always be standing between you and him.”

  “You think I can’t best you?”

  Kashyan smiled. “You already know the answer to that.”

  “Before you start swearing oaths at one another, I’d like to speak,” Kholya said. “King Ognyan, I’ve heard your demands and I can satisfy neither. I’ll leave you now to consider your reply. I’d suggest you break camp and go home, but it’s up to you. You can stay and be slaughtered if that’s your pleasure.” He gestured for Kashyan to go down the stairs. “By the way, Your Majesty,” he said to Ognyan. “Has anyone warned you about the demons that come in the night?”

  Kashyan turned, saw Sheyn, and gestured curtly for Sheyn to follow him.

  “Disloyalty!” Sheyn said indignantly as soon as they were out of earshot. “I was kidnapped. How can that be called disloyalty?”

  Kashyan didn’t answer as he reached the bottom of the steps and stood aside to wait for Kholya. He put Sheyn behind him as Kholya descended.

  “Ognyan’s on his way back to his camp,” Kholya said. “We can expect his men to start moving forward in the next few hours.”

  “We’ll do what we can to hinder them,” Kashyan replied. “We should leave now while everyone’s eyes are on Ognyan.”

  Kholya gave Kashyan a hug. “Come back,” he said.

  Kashyan and Sheyn mounted their horses and rode to the northern side of the fortress. Set in the thick wall was a door just large enough to accommodate one rider at a time. The guards recognized Kashyan and let him through, looking curiously at Sheyn as he rode by.

  Kashyan led the way down the steep, narrow path that followed the western flank of the ridge. Sheyn found the gray gelding to be sure-footed, so he relaxed in the saddle and trusted the horse to make the important decisions. Sensing the rider’s confidence, the courser ignored the drop-off on the left and followed Kashyan’s stallion down to the tree line. Footing was less precarious here, and Sheyn took the opportunity to braid his hair and fasten it with the new clasp. He let the braid hang down his chest and pulled a soft cap of gray wool over his head.

  “My ears are freezing,” Sheyn muttered to his horse.

  Kashyan glanced back but said nothing until they reached the Black Hawks’ camp. “Don’t embarrass me,” he said as Sheyn dismounted.

  Sheyn gave Kashyan a cheeky look but held his tongue as a trooper came to take care of their horses. He looked around curiously while Kashyan spoke with his lieutenant and issued orders.

  “They’ll be ready to ride in a moment,” Kashyan said to Sheyn as the officer strode away. “We should get back in the saddle.�
� He watched in amusement as Sheyn stretched out in a lunge before going to his horse.

  Four companies of six men left the camp, taking different directions. Each was under orders to cause as much mischief as possible for the Sumadinim without getting caught. Sheyn considered it more of a dare than a mission and hoped the eager raiders would respect the danger they were in as they harried the enemy. After the first curious stares, the Savaani cavalry seemed to make an unspoken pact to pretend that Sheyn didn’t exist as he rode on Kashyan’s left.

  “Is it all right to talk?” Sheyn asked.

  “If you keep your voice down, you’ll make no more noise than the horses.”

  “I’m surprised none of your men have said anything about my presence. Aren’t they worried about having a civilian along on a mission like this?”

  “A civilian?” Kashyan glanced at Sheyn and smiled. “You know so many words and you learned our tongue so quickly.”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “My men trust me not to put them in danger on a whim.”

  “Admirable,” Sheyn said. “I was afraid they’d think you brought me along to warm your lap.”

  “Are you certain I didn’t?”

  “It’s too late to play the brute. I know you now.”

  “And I know almost nothing of you.”

  “I told you my sad history when you brought me to your brother’s tent the first time.”

  “Did you? I must not have been listening. Everything you said sounded like a complaint anyway.”

  “Have I improved, then?”

  “I love you as you are,” Kashyan said wisely.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you expect me to do on this outing?”

  “If you were Luks, I’d hide you and come back for you after the mission was over. But you’re not Luks. Why don’t you tell me what you think you should do?”

  “I think you should use me as you think best. You’re the military man. I have some skill with a sword, but strategy is not a talent of mine.”

  “I could argue that.” Kashyan held up a hand, and his little troop halted. He led them into the cover of a stand of long-skirted pines, and they gathered in a circle. “We’re nearing the Sumadi sentry line,” Kashyan said. “They have whistles made of boar tusk that they’ll blow as soon as they see anyone unfamiliar to them. I favor shooting the sentries in the throat with arrows, but there’s always a chance of missing.”

  “Creep up, hand over the mouth, knife across the throat,” said one of the troopers.

  “Risky, Lanzha,” said another. “And we can’t always be sure we’ll have cover.”

  “You could lure them from their posts and ambush them,” Sheyn said.

  “They’re Sumadi soldiers,” Kashyan said. “An old hunter’s trick isn’t going to work on them. What do you think we could lure them with?”

  “I thought it would be obvious.”

  “Well it isn’t.”

  “They’re warriors, yes?” Sheyn waited for Kashyan to nod. “And which of us here is supposed to be irresistible to warriors?”

  “No,” Kashyan said. “I’m not putting you in danger.”

  “I’m in danger simply by being in this barbaric country.”

  “It would work, Captain,” one of the men said. “And Pearl wouldn’t have to be in danger. All he’d have to do is show himself and duck back under cover where we’ll be waiting.”

  “I could be a fair distance away from the sentry,” Sheyn said.

  “Why do you want to do this?” Kashyan asked.

  “Too many reasons to explain right now. Ask me after we make camp.”

  “I’d like to hear them now, if you don’t mind,” Kashyan said sharply

  Sheyn sighed in exasperation and glanced aside as he spoke. “I owe you this much.”

  “That wasn’t so hard to explain after all.” Kashyan looked around at the five other men. “We’ll walk the horses from here. Be as quiet as possible. Whisper if you need to speak.”

  Kashyan had studied the Sumadi army’s movements through Kholya’s telescope, and the placement of troops was fixed in his head. He brought his men within sight of the first sentry post, and they stopped well back in the trees. The sentry was on the far side of a meadow, leaning on his spear, turning his head from time to time to scan the area.

  “What are you planning to do?” Kashyan asked Sheyn.

  “I’m going to walk to the edge of the trees, wave, and run back here as fast as I can.”

  “That’s a good plan.” Kashyan looked around at his men. “Who wants this one?”

  “Me, Captain!” a young trooper said quickly.

  “Very well, Dasha,” Kashyan said. “Make sure he doesn’t blow that whistle.”

  “Wait. How do we know he won’t raise the alarm when he sees Pearl?”

  “Would you?” Lanzha asked.

  “I guess I wouldn’t,” Dasha said. “I’d want to see if the vision was real, and if it was, I probably wouldn’t want to share.”

  “That’s what I’m counting on,” Sheyn said as he loosed his hair from the braid. After tucking his gloves into his belt, he finger-combed the rippled, waist-length tresses as he moved away.

  “Pearl,” Kashyan said in a loud whisper.

  Sheyn turned with an inquiring look on his face.

  “Don’t dawdle.”

  Sheyn smiled as he resumed walking toward the forest’s edge. He stepped out into the sunlight and waited until he was sure the sentry saw him. With a little beckoning gesture, he stepped backward into the shadows, turned, and ran. He reached the area where he thought he’d left the Black Hawks, but he didn’t see anyone. As he ran past a lightning-blasted trunk, someone reached out and grabbed him by the waist. Sheyn stilled the cry in his throat as Kashyan pulled him close. He peered around the tree and saw Dasha step from hiding into the sentry’s path.

  The Sumadi raised his whistle, but it flew from his hand as Dasha plowed into him. The fight was over quickly, as Dasha gained the upper hand with a crushing grip on the sentry’s throat. Dasha suffered a cut from the Sumadi’s knife, but it wasn’t deep, and he earned Kashyan’s praise as well as Pearl’s.

  Until dark, Kashyan’s troop rode down the Sumadi line taking out sentries. When night fell, they changed tactics, sneaking up on the Sumadinim under cover of darkness. Not until dawn did Kashyan call a halt. They made camp in a holly thicket, under cover of the dense canopy of leaves, and the horses were tethered among some nearby pines that enclosed a grassy clearing. The men fashioned lean-tos from their cloaks and spread their bedrolls beneath. They made no fire but sat in a circle anyway as they ate jerky and cracked grain washed down with water from their canteens.

  “You all did well today,” Kashyan said. “Get a few hours’ sleep and dream up new devilry.”

  The men wrapped up in their bedrolls while one stood watch. Kashyan took Sheyn by the wrist and led him to a spot a significant distance away from the others where a makeshift tent covered their bedrolls.

  “When did you find time to do this?” Sheyn asked as he looked at the shelter. “You haven’t left my side.”

  “I didn’t. It was like this when we came back from feeding the horses.”

  “Sly savages.” Sheyn chuckled. “I think you’re meant to enjoy me, as you Savaanim say.”

  “Bad idea. I lose my wits when I top you.”

  “You’re right.” Sheyn yawned. “I’m going to sleep.”

  Kashyan spoke to the sentry for a few minutes and then went to lie down. He wasn’t sure he could sleep with his daaksi lying so close, but he would try to rest. Fully clothed, he stretched out behind Sheyn and put an arm around his waist. Burying his face in Sheyn’s hair, Kashyan closed his eyes. The sweet scent of Sheyn’s nape reminded him of something. He’d smelled that perfume before when he was much younger. It had come to him on the breeze from the river where he liked to play. Down among the marsh reeds, he had beaten down pathways and chambers of an elaborate fortress wh
ere he could play without anyone teasing him. Closer to the water’s edge were banks of frostflowers. He was holding a bouquet of them when he got his first kiss. He’d never forgotten the delicate sweetness of their scent.

  Half-asleep, Kashyan spread his hand over Sheyn’s lower belly and pressed Sheyn’s ass firmly against his crotch. Sheyn snuggled back into the pleasant warmth with a happy little moan, and Kashyan moved his hand lower. Sheyn sighed when Kashyan took hold of his reyl, but he didn’t wake. Kashyan yanked his kilt out of the way and pulled Sheyn’s tunic up. It took a bit of maneuvering to get Sheyn’s leggings down over the curve of his ass, but finally Kashyan was able to press his hard shaft into Sheyn’s cleft.

  Sheyn woke and his breath caught in his throat. Kashyan was fondling his reyl in the most pleasing manner, and he could feel the heat of Kashyan’s arousal rubbing against his backside. It was an entirely agreeable situation as far as Sheyn was concerned, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out and drawing attention. The shadowy panic that had once paralyzed him had no power over him any longer. He didn’t feel as though he was being split open and suffocated at the same time. He felt warm and secure and wrapped in bliss like a cloak made of sunlight.

  “Didn’t we speak about this?” Sheyn purred.

  “Aye, but you liked it so much before, and I love waking you up like this. Should I stop what I’m doing?”

  Sheyn smiled drowsily. “No. You can keep doing that for as long as you like, my lord.”

  Kashyan replied by holding Sheyn tighter and stroking him faster. Sheyn’s jaavi jerked against his palm, and hot liquid filled his hand. He continued to pump the spurting shaft, coating it with the slick fluid, as he spilled his seed against the small of Sheyn’s back. Shuddering in release, Kashyan pressed his cock into the damp groove as he hugged Sheyn tightly.

  “Are you well-satisfied?” Sheyn asked.

  Kashyan let out a breath that stirred the silky hair at Sheyn’s nape. “Ayeesh! You have truly conquered me.”

  Sheyn smiled into the darkness. Putting a hand over Kashyan’s where it rested on his lower abdomen, Sheyn snuggled back against him. “We should try to sleep, then.”

  “I love you,” Kashyan whispered a few moments later, but Sheyn was already asleep. He settled himself a little more comfortably and dozed off but woke an hour later. Sheyn was restless in his arms but quieted down when Kashyan murmured soothingly in his ear. This happened twice more before Sheyn fell into a deep sleep. Kashyan lay awake until the watch changed, and then Sheyn’s calm breathing lulled him into drowsiness. He slept well and didn’t wake until first light.