Lore of Sanctum Omnibus

by Elaina J Davidson

Tristan shook his head. “Horatio’s a soldier first. He would not care if Bannerman lives or dies.”

  “Even a diehard soldier must have a backdoor plan and Bannerman was his. Bannerman had to persuade Tymall to curtail us, not kill us. We, after all, are Horatio’s means of getting out.”

  “Will you deal for that?”

  Torrullin grinned. “No bloody way.”

  “Then he will dig in. Make the ultimate stand. A soldier’s final glory.”

  “No need to talk to him then.”

  Tristan laughed. “I guess not.”

  Torrullin moved from the window and flung onto the bed beside Teighlar. He closed his eyes. “Wake me if something changes.”

  IT CHANGED SWIFTLY.

  The downpour ceased and soldiers began battering at the gates. Thunderous impact shuddered through the fort. The gates imploded after four, and soldiers charged in.

  Tristan swore. “We need somewhere defensible.”

  “One level up,” Elianas said as he strode in. He glanced briefly at everyone, shouldered Teighlar and strode out again. “Bring as much bedding as you can. This could take a while,” he threw over his shoulder.

  Muttering under his breath, Torrullin stripped the bed and tossed bedding at Lowen and Caballa. “Follow him; we are right behind you.”

  They stumbled out with their burdens.

  “They have started a ground floor search,” Tristan said, still at the window. “It will not take them long to get to us.”

  Torrullin had hold of pillows and drapes. “Bring the water,” he said, pointing his chin at a vessel on a bureau, “and grab the toilet paper.”

  Tristan laughed. “You are taking this in your stride.”

  “I am a soldier, too,” Torrullin grinned. “Come on.”

  HORATIO WAS A GENIUS.

  When the citadel took shape in the deserts of Ymir he insisted on weapons other than those of technology. His soldiers were untried in their use, but he swiftly educated them.

  The result now? Mighty trebuchets took up position outside the walls and launched great rocks, while enormous battering rams went into action at every entrance. Smaller catapults threw smaller rocks, often deadlier for accuracy.

  Shadow Wings no longer protected the fort and Horatio discovered that with the first puff of masonry dust.

  He also discovered not every rock possessed the weight of its appearance. Boulders which promised major damage proved to be as light as a leaf. Some evaporated on touch as a puff of choking dust. He could not know this was one of Tarlinn’s tweaks, and it frustrated the hell out of his soldiers, but soon he and they learned to test before use.

  It slowed him somewhat, but only somewhat.

  He threw everything he had into the fray.

  DUST AND DEBRIS LAY thick on the concrete slab that was the floor. Their footprints soon created patterns in the whiteness as they crossed and re-crossed the space checking into every nook, examining the place for defensibility.

  Multiple arches, the unglazed windows of a time now passed, revealed the wan grey light ruling outside. It was cold and everything smelled abandoned, ancient, other.

  “What is this place?” Lowen said.

  Opposite the arches there were the shadowy outlines of doorways. Ancient columns held the flaking ceiling up. The interior had the feel of a temple, one built with less stable and lasting materials than other temples were.

  “This fort was once a monastery,” Elianas said. “Ages before Tymall found it. Ages before the darklings.”

  Closer investigation into what lay beyond the shadowy doorways revealed chambers, akin to monk cells. It would now be places to sleep, if sleep was to be found.

  The space, despite condition, could be defended. A massive iron grille lowered over the only entrance after Tristan headed in.

  The cells were soon filled, one for each, except Tristan and Caballa sharing, and the watch set.

  Horatio was already beyond every proverbial gate.

  GREY LIGHT BECAME DARK.

  Night had finally fallen over the place of confrontation.

  Teighlar was on guard in the silence. The host outside had not made a move in the last hours. Perhaps they hoped to starve them out - a likelihood, as food was already memory for all of them - or perhaps it was as simple as Horatio allowing his soldiers to renew strength. Muscles had to ache after the hours of physical labour.

  A hand on Teighlar’s shoulder nearly had his skin falling from his bones.

  “It is me.”

  “Gods, Torrullin, how silent can a man be and still be a man?” Teighlar whispered back, his heart bouncing in his ribcage.

  A low laugh. “Are you calling me an animal?”

  “Cathron, fucking sabre tooth.”

  “I am flattered. How do you feel?”

  “Fine-ish. Seems Tannil affected some healing when he floored me.”

  “Needs the Diluvan alive and kicking.”

  Teighlar grunted.

  “I am walking that way … cannot sleep.” Torrullin gestured vaguely towards the arches to the right.

  “Fine. Beware arrow range when you pass.”

  Torrullin moved off into the dimness. Minutes later his form was picked out in planes of moonlight as he paused before an arch to stare outward.

  As ever, challenging the fates.

  Another joined him and Teighlar drew a slow breath. Elianas. They avoided each other now and he wondered how they would react.

  “Who is on guard?” Elianas’ voice sounded, a low tone.

  Torrullin’s head moved sideways to the man. “Teighlar.”

  Elianas moved away and wandered around until he came upon the Senlu Emperor. “I will take the watch. Get some sleep.”

  Torrullin, Teighlar noted, did not move. He took that to mean the man was in agreement. He nodded and moved to his cell, but did not enter.

  He opened and closed the door, and remained still in the deep shadow beside it, and watched.

  “HE WOULD CALL YOU panther.” There was amusement in Torrullin’s tone.

  “We need to talk,” Elianas murmured as he again took up position beside Torrullin.

  “This is not the place. Sound carries even beyond closed doors.”

  Then we do not say the words.

  TORRULLIN’S HEAD MOVED AGAIN and even from where Teighlar stood he could see the silver sheen in those strange grey eyes. When no sound was forthcoming, he understood they had moved from the verbal. It meant he would have to study body language.

  COMMUNICATION IN THIS manner, for us, is too intimate.

  I do not care, Torrullin. We need to talk.

  What is there to say? We are in opposition.

  Are we? Never has that stopped us before.

  Torrullin shifted and focused on the view through the arch before him. So talk, if that is what you want.

  Elianas shivered. It was cold, but it was not temperature that caused his reaction. I have only one thing to say. I need to touch you.

  Torrullin’s shoulder’s stiffened. Bad idea.

  Why? Because of a circlet and wings?

  Because we are grandfathers, both of us, to the same man. Blood to blood, you said. A serious bond, one not even Tarlinn would overlook.

  Elianas moved. I do not care. He stood before Torrullin, his back to the moonlight. It threw him into deep shadow and Torrullin virtually vanished as the light was severed.

  You do.

  I care that we keep it private. That is my only qualification.

  Torrullin abruptly strode through the columns to the crumbling stairway opposite the grille. It led to a contained courtyard. His footsteps pounded down and vanished into renewed silence somewhere below.

  In all that Elianas did not move.

  Then, “Take the watch again.”

  A moment later, in silence, he vanished down those same stairs.

  TEIGHLAR SIGHED.

  He was terrible at subterfuge.

  AN ARROW THUDDED INTO the wall beside his head as
he ducked through the hole that led into the small courtyard.

  Elianas swore and dipped lower and swiftly made his way across to the mess of stone and ancient wood opposite. The courtyard was contained, but Horatio’s bombardment had not overlooked it. The first item he saw as he clambered into a space between was Torrullin’s sword lying on a masonry block, the moonlight picking out glints.

  “Would not want metallic sounds to give us away.” His voice was full of challenge somewhere to the left.

  “No, we do not want that.”

  “Why now, Elianas?”

  “I feel as if I died this day. You act as if I have. I have two options. One, surrender to need and, two, divest myself of my wings and take what I need. The first choice requires your agreement, the second … not.”

  “We have spent centuries together without the need to surrender or take. Why can we not do so this time?”

  “So it is we.”

  “Of course it is bloody we.”

  “Torrullin.”

  “Elianas, gods, come closer and I shall take your wings. Dare you assume the risk?”

  “For a few minutes of being alive? Yes.”

  Torrullin stepped from the shadows and stood before Elianas. He made no further move.

  The dark man snorted a moment later and removed his tunic. As it drifted to the ground he lifted his hands to the neck of Torrullin’s tunic, gripped and tore it open. Then he made no further move.

  Grey eyes glittered and Torrullin shrugged the remnant from his shoulders. As it slid down his arms, Elianas hauled him closer.

  Breath exploded.

  “Take my wings.”

  “Give them to me.”

  Cold damp skin slithered and cleaved.

  A scrape of metal.

  They jerked apart to find Lowen there, holding Torrullin’s discarded sword. She slapped the flat end into her palm and appeared to study it with great attention.

  “You have no sword, Elianas, to defend yourself should Horatio breach.” She looked up. “But you do not need one, do you?”

  He stepped away from Torrullin. “Your timing sucks, Lowen.”

  “I think my timing is perfect,” she murmured. “You see, I have an offer for you, maybe both of you, but answer me this first - did you swear to protect me?”

  Elianas frowned. “I did.”

  “Did you?” Lowen asked of Torrullin.

  He was expressionless. “Yes.”

  “And who did you swear to?”

  Torrullin lifted one shoulder. “Myself.”

  “Likewise,” Elianas said.

  “Ah, and thus my vision revealed only truth. Hush now; I am not done. In my vision you told me the reason you seek to protect me is my mortality. Is that correct?”

  Both nodded.

  She met Torrullin’s eyes. “You sought to protect me once when I was Kaval and immortal.”

  “And suffered the consequences. I know now to leave you to it.”

  “You are suggesting, were I immortal, you would undo the oath of protection?”

  He paced closer and took the sword from her to sheath it. “Protection is about emotion also, whether you are long-lived or not, but, yes, were you immortal, I would not be as anxious.”

  “And you, Elianas?”

  “As he says. Why?”

  She retreated a pace to view both men simultaneously. “Shadow Wings confer immortality, do they not?”

  Dead silence.

  She smiled. “I assume that is a yes.”

  Elianas cleared his throat. “What is your offer?”

  She spread her hands. “Me. Here, now, between you and him.”

  Elianas bent over hyperventilating.

  Torrullin did not move.

  “My offer is valid for one hour. Perhaps you would like to discuss it first.” Lowen moved to go, and Torrullin reached out and gripped her arm to pull her back.

  “I accept.”

  “Gods,” Elianas groaned, still in a lowered position. “I am not sure I can.”

  “Why not?” Lowen said.

  “Because I want it too much. Usually a warning sign.”

  “But you would release your wings, should you choose this path?”

  Elianas straightened. “In a heartbeat.”

  She drew an unsteady breath.

  Torrullin stepped in behind Lowen and drew her against him. Taking her with him, he retreated until he had his back to a wall.

  “You do understand you will walk the Path of Shades after, Lowen? You will be one of us,” he murmured.

  “Into eternity,” she said, staring at Elianas watching them wait for him to come to them.

  “You told me you love her; how can you agree to this?” Elianas demanded.

  “We have had this discussion, Elianas.”

  “Really?” Lowen murmured.

  Elianas moved closer until he stood before Lowen. She hauled him against her. His arms lifted to brace on the wall beside Torrullin’s head. “I cannot. Take my wings, but it is freely given.”

  Torrullin sighed.

  Lowen stared up. “Elianas, it takes adrenaline, epic quantities of it, to release those wings. It would kill me to accept them in this calm state.”

  “You are calm?” Torrullin muttered.

  A laugh. “No, but you know what I mean.”

  Elianas stared into blue eyes. “Lust equals adrenaline.”

  “Yes.” She stared into dark eyes.

  Dark eyes lifted to grey. “This will undo us.”

  Torrullin swore and heaved at Lowen to create space to free himself. “Fine. Keep your wings.”

  Elianas slammed him back into position. “You do not partake; you watch, you feel, but you keep it in your breeches.”

  An explosive breath. “Agreed.”

  “Lowen, last chance.”

  She reached up and dragged his mouth down to hers. “Stop thinking.” She kissed him, threading her hands into his hair.

  The surge of lust that flashed through Elianas caused Torrullin to slam his head against the wall. He felt every atom of heat and knew Elianas was aware of his instant reaction to it.

  Grey and dark eyes clashed and then Elianas placed his hands on the clasp of Lowen’s breeches. His breathing shallowed and became swift, and it increased when Lowen released him from the confines of scabbard and material.

  “No need to be gentle,” she murmured. “I have dreamed about this too much to wait for …” She arched when he jerked her breeches down, pushing against Torrullin. She pulled Elianas even closer and skin seared skin.

  Heat travelled and arced and was shared, every nuance.

  Torrullin groaned and placed his hands under Lowen’s tunic, finding the sensitive spots he knew well set her off. She groaned and writhed and Elianas became fluid, the manner he assumed when pushed beyond endurance … or conscience.

  “The consequence of thrust, Torrullin,” he murmured, and entered.

  Torrullin’s fingers dug into Lowen and he arched along with her, both groaning.

  Elianas placed his hand on Lowen’s naked buttocks and lifted her to him, and thrust again. The back of his hand pressed against Torrullin’s arousal.

  Dark eyes dilated and he used his free hand to grip Torrullin by the hair, hauling him closer. Mouths met and he thrust again. Lowen’s nails raised welts on his back, his abdomen, his arse, and every shiver translated to Torrullin.

  Wings unfurled in the small space.

  Elianas lifted his mouth from the searing kiss and smiled.

  A beat of no movement, and then those wings flapped.

  He took Lowen to him and concentrated on her; her response had both men spinning beyond control.

  As she climaxed, Elianas said, “Take them now.”

  Nails dug into shoulders, she shuddered and arched free of Torrullin.

  “Hold her.”

  Torrullin did so, his heart hammering so hard he thought it would burst free. Shadows surrounded the three of them, questing, cold like a breath
of ice, and then wrapped around Lowen’s shuddering form, and vanished.

  Elianas slammed them back against the wall and pulsed into Lowen, delving into Torrullin’s breeches to grip and hold. Torrullin, groaning, released.

  Silence filled only with laboured breathing descended.

  Chapter 62

  Put on your armour, soldier!

  ~ King’s call ~

  Shadow Wing Fort

  TEIGHLAR WAS STILL ON watch when he noted Lowen return to her cell. He said nothing and she ignored him. He awakened Tristan soon after and headed to his sleeping space, cursing the hard floor. The women were given most of the bedding; the stone underneath his shoulder blades was uncompromising.

  TRISTAN SAW TORRULLIN move in the shadows and watched him enter the space and begin pacing. Clearly something kept the man awake. Tristan grimaced. Torrullin should bloody take the watch, then.

  “I heard that,” came a low murmur. “Sleep; I shall watch. Seriously, I have too much on my mind anyway.”

  Tristan muttered appreciation and headed back to Caballa. He did not see the slow and measured tread Elianas entered with.

  Had he, he might have understood something profound happened in the night while Teighlar had the watch.

  THEY STOOD TOGETHER watching the greyness outside.

  “She is dangerous now,” Elianas said, breaking the silence.

  “Wings do that.”

  “I was not talking of wings.”

  “I am,” Torrullin stated.

  “Should I have said no to her? To you? You wanted it more.”

  “Do not lie.”

  “Who said I accept first?”

  “Because I saw it as a means to divest you of your wings.”

  “Please. You fool only yourself.”

  One shoulder lifted and fell. “It is done.”

  “What comes next, Torrullin?”

  Silver eyes glittered. “I shall make you feel as much soon.”

  Elianas hauled him closer by the tunic. “Leave Alik out of it.”

  Torrullin pushed him away. “Tit for tat.”