by Brandon Fox
Ander accepted the bottle and stepped back. Anna took his place and began to close the wound with quick, precise stitches as Thane pressed the edges of the cut together.
Nicolai held one of Sorel’s hands in a tight grip. The bulge of muscle at Sorel’s shoulder revealed the pain he was suppressing. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his gaze remained locked with Nicolai’s. The few people in the dining hall fell silent, acutely aware of his ordeal.
In less than five minutes, Anna straightened up. She wiped her forehead with the back of a hand and then touched Sorel’s chest. “It should heal well,” she assured him. “The cut was clean. But you’ll have to rest a few days or it’ll tear open.”
“Rest sounds good,” Sorel said through clenched teeth. “But now isn’t the time. The greenhouse is a shambles. Most or all of the plants are dead. Do you realize what that means, Anna?”
“We all do,” Thane said. He sat on a bench, looking at the blood on his hands as if his own life was draining away. “We have enough elixirs and oils to last a few weeks, a month at the most. But now we lack the ingredients to make more.” He looked exhausted and defeated.
“You built the greenhouse once,” Nicolai said. “You created the botanical collection. You can do it again.”
“That was before the zamindar was looking for us. And before he was building that damned leech.” Thane took a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure we can do it again, Nicolai. There might not be time.”
“We have to try,” Ander said. He handed the brandy bottle to Sorel, then seized Thane’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “Think how hard everyone has worked. How hard they’ve fought. You more than anyone! You owe it to yourself to try.”
Thane’s expression shifted to confusion. Ander had seen that look before, especially when he stood up to him. I’m reminding him of Lucian again. When will he stop looking at me and seeing a dead man? Memories of Lucian could plunge Thane into wrenching grief. Ander resolved to pull him back from that dangerous brink.
“Where did you get the plants in the collection? You could send initiates out to get replacements. There are more people to do the work now than when you started.”
Thane nodded, his expression still shuttered. “Many specimens came from Lord Tolmin, my patron. Some of the basic elixirs are derived from plants I brought with me when he gave me this estate. But the greenhouse is wrecked, and we couldn’t move plants during the winter anyway. There just isn’t time.”
Ander felt Thane slipping, felt fatigue and despair beginning to pour through their bond. Thane’s youthful spirit had two sides. His enthusiasm and energy could be boundless. But the pain of loss could engulf him just as intensely. Grief over Lucian’s death had nearly killed him once.
On impulse, Ander grabbed him by the wrists and pulled his hands forward until they were outstretched before him. Thane looked down at his hands. He stood as if paralyzed. Silence stretched thin, broken only by the crackle of the fire. The turmoil in his face was painful to watch, but Ander maintained his grip and didn’t waver.
When Thane spoke, his voice was a husky whisper. “You’re right. There’s blood on my hands. The blood of my friends. I can’t rest, can’t give up.” When he looked up again, his eyes shone like steel. “I’d rather die than fail you. Thank you for reminding me.”
Ander held Thane’s hands another moment, then released him. Sound and movement returned as the tension in the room ebbed. “Does Lord Tolmin still collect plants?” he asked. “Would he be willing to help?”
“He’d do everything possible,” Nicolai said. “The last of his family would be dead but for Thane.”
“And Lucian,” Thane said, his gaze resting on Ander. He took a deep breath, then shook himself. “I’ll ask Lord Tolmin for his help. He’ll understand the urgency. If the zamindar rebuilds his leech and gains supremacy in the kei, all our lives are forfeit.”
Ander shivered at the cold in his voice. Thane was right. They were locked in a race, and only the winners would survive.
Chapter 10
WISPS of a dream, oddly tenacious, curled around Ander’s mind as he woke. He vividly remembered a pair of eyes, a sense of menace, and the feeling of being in Pella. Also a sense of confusion, of feeling like he was already forgetting something vital. He pushed the dream aside; reality was far preferable. The last traces of disorientation left his mind, and he sighed with contentment.
The road to Chanture was fairly well traveled, and they had found accommodations every night during the four-day trip. Each inn was better than the last as they traveled further south. The establishment where they’d stopped the previous evening, their last stop before reaching the famed city of luxury and indulgence, was the finest of all. Three stories high and made of yellow stone, it might have once been a squire’s mansion.
Their bed was large and warm. Thane still slept soundly to his right. Ander turned his head to his left, where Skorri pressed against his side. The youth’s eyes were open, gazing through a window at richly colored clouds that glowed with the rising sun’s rays. Reddish light poured in and made his blond curls look like ringlets of fire haloing his head. Ander slid a hand over to Skorri’s thigh and caressed it gently. “I know that look,” he said softly. “Don’t worry, Erik will be fine. He just needed to rest. Sorel will look after him while you’re away.”
Skorri turned away from the window. “Oh, I’m sure Sorel will take good care of him. Though it might not be restful. I’m just sorry Erik couldn’t come to Chanture. Neither of us have seen it.”
“Then you’ll have to fill him with stories,” Ander replied as his hand moved higher up Skorri’s leg. “I’ve never been to Chanture, either. It’s hard to believe it’s as beautiful as Thane says.” Skorri quivered as Ander’s fingers brushed his inner thigh. As Ander had learned the first day of their trip, he responded quickly to a caress. He was only eighteen, and his enthusiasm for sex was boundless.
Turning on his side, Skorri reached over and traced the ridges of muscle layering Ander’s torso. He peered into Ander’s eyes with sultry intensity. With no warning, he leaned in and licked the tip of Ander’s nose.
Ander shook with surprised laughter. Skorri grinned mischievously as he reached down and stroked the length of Ander’s morning erection.
The laughter woke Thane. He stretched, arms outstretched and back arching, then opened his eyes and gave Ander a sunny smile before embracing him. Their tongues explored as Thane’s long phallus throbbed against Ander’s side. They didn’t break the kiss until both were breathless. By then Skorri had reached over them and was fondling both their cocks.
Ander squirmed at the teasing of skillful fingers. “He’s getting frisky again.”
“Part of his charm,” Thane said. He rolled on top of his lover, then reached out to draw Skorri into a kiss. Ander ached with sweet anticipation as he watched the two explore each other with lips and tongues, both of their hard cocks pressing against him. Their cheerful lust was breathtaking.
Thane finally stopped playing tag with Skorri’s nimble tongue. “I’m beginning to believe all those stories Erik told me. You really are insatiable.”
Skorri moaned and shoved his cock against Ander. “We have time for one more tumble, don’t we? It’s been hours!”
“Such hardship,” Thane said in mock sympathy. “But morning’s here, and there’s much to be done.” He rolled out of bed and picked up his shirt. There was no point arguing with Thane when duty called, so they left the warm bed and gave each other sponge baths in preparation for their arrival at Chanture.
The smell of baking bread wafting from the inn’s kitchen greeted them when they went downstairs. The dining room was crowded with prosperous merchants, many dressed in the rich silks and light cotton popular in the kingdom’s southern reaches. They settled at a table near the slate hearth for a breakfast of sausages, pastries, and tea.
A winsome serving boy with long brown hair, no older than Skorri and seemingly entranced by the three travel
ers, attended to them with shy eagerness and many furtive glances. Skorri looked at him mournfully as they departed, an expression mirrored on the servant’s face.
Ander bubbled with amusement at his friend’s lusty appetite as they saddled their horses in the adjoining stable. “Were you thinking of bringing him home as a present for Erik?” he asked. “He wouldn’t have been hard to persuade, I think.”
Skorri nodded. “I think you’re right. I was just thinking how Erik and I have talked of going on searches, like Nicolai and Sorel do.” He gave Ander an appreciative head-to-toe glance. “We’d like to visit the houses of companionship and see if there are more like you to be found. But Thane hasn’t yet taught us how to test for mage potential.”
“In good time,” Thane said as he swung into his saddle. “For now, you and Erik will have to content yourselves with other initiates. You need to study, learn more about the ways of the world, before going out alone.”
Skorri sighed dramatically as he slung his saddlebags into place. “I know. That’s why I wanted to make this journey even though Erik couldn’t come. It’s a pity we have to hurry, though, when a beautiful stranger yearns for us to linger.”
“Perhaps you’ll visit here again,” Ander said. “Maybe with Erik next time. Think how pleased the serving boy would be by that.”
Skorri’s eyes widened, the erotic possibilities of the suggestion clearly firing his imagination. He swung into his saddle and nodded eagerly. “I’ll study all the harder,” he promised. “And I’ll make Erik study too.”
Ander doubted Skorri and Erik could keep their minds on studies for long when they were in the same room together, but he made no comment. As they continued along the southerly road, he pondered what he had learned about the young lovers during their journey.
Skorri and Erik had grown up in a village far to the northwest. They had spent their time hunting and fishing and telling stories around fires in the round sod halls their people shared, everyone living together in a few large buildings. There was nothing unusual about friends sharing a sleeping mat, but privacy was no more than a blanket hung between sleeping alcoves and the main room. Their passion was eventually discovered and earned their elders’ wrath. The local religion condemned any form of love that omitted the possibility of offspring to increase the tribe’s size and influence.
They were banished, cast out with nothing but the clothes on their backs. That night as they huddled in shock outside the village, one of their friends slipped out and gave them a hunting knife and blanket. The gifts saved their lives. They made their way south, living off the land and relying on each other for warmth. Good fortune finally brought them to the port city of Bieron, where an initiate arriving with new specimens for the lyceum saw them stealing fruit in a market. An offer of a hot meal bought their story. Sensing their devotion and their empathy, an invitation to visit the lyceum was extended and accepted. The pair soon won themselves a new home, a home where their love for each other was cherished.
Ander smiled as he watched Skorri badger Thane with questions and observations. He had an exuberant spirit and was accustomed to life in a village where there was little to do for entertainment other than talk. Thane bore it patiently. While the mage would never admit it, Ander suspected the questions provided a welcome distraction from buried grief. This was where Thane had found love with Lucian, and where Lucian had died. Painful memories were inevitable.
Morning passed pleasantly. There were few travelers on the road, and bandits rarely ventured this close to Chanture. Ander relished the lack of snow. Even in midwinter, this part of the kingdom remained green. By noon they emerged from the winding forest road. The soaring buildings and terraces of a vast city appeared in a bowl-shaped valley before them. They reined in their horses and stopped to look at the sprawling metropolis below.
“Chanture,” Thane said softly. “It would be a paradise but for the zamindar.”
Ander and Skorri were mute at the sight of the ancient city. A great river rolled through the valley but didn’t cut the area in half. Instead the waters split into scores of canals that laced through the city like gossamer threads. Towers rose from islands in lakes where canals intersected, and high-arched bridges were everywhere. Even at a distance, Ander could see colorfully painted boats gliding through the maze of waterways.
The city followed the valley’s contour as it sloped up from the river basin. Terraces thronged the valley’s walls, especially where the slope was steep. Some were devoted to rice paddies and vineyards. Others contained sprawling estates filled with gardens and fanciful mansions surpassing anything Ander had ever imagined.
Thane gazed at the scene, his expression frozen as a mask, but couldn’t staunch the flow of feelings through the bond with his partner. Ander felt a tumultuous mixture of bittersweet nostalgia, the sharp ache of first love and its loss, and savage anger. He yearned to comfort Thane and tried with all his might to offer solace through their bond, but the mage was oblivious to his efforts. The magical contamination interfering with their empathic link still had not softened its grip. The lyceum’s dire condition had allowed no time to seek a solution to Thane’s personal problems.
They began the descent into the city, weaving back and forth on switchbacks as they traversed the steep part of the valley’s wall. The estates of the wealthy were even more impressive up close. The city’s aristocracy and prosperous merchants strove to outdo each other in the sophistication and splendor of their gardens. Even in winter there were shrubs and climbing vines in bloom, a riot of color that shocked the eye after days of traveling through muted forests. Fragrances floated through the air like perfume.
Soon the trail widened enough for them to ride abreast. “Is it always this warm?” Ander asked. “I know we’ve come south a long way, but it’s like springtime here. They don’t use sorcery to keep it warm, do they?”
“It’s the valley,” Thane answered absently. “It shelters Chanture from the winter winds. And the river carries water from the mountains that keeps the city pleasant in the summer. The mild seasons are the reason the wealthy built their estates here in the first place.”
“They’re not all rich, are they?” Skorri asked. “How could you have a city where everybody’s wealthy?”
“You don’t,” Ander answered. “But ask any companion where they want to open a house. Merchants, companions, artisans, entertainers, craftsmen. It’s the same for all of us. The wealthy can afford our services so we follow wherever they go.”
“And even the wealthy need to eat,” Thane added. “The cooks in Chanture are the finest in the kingdom, and the food has to be fresh.” He swept his arm outward, encompassing the vast valley. “Nearly every foot of land is used. And of course they import goods from everywhere in the kingdom and beyond. Which reminds me, Skorri. Do you remember what I told you about dealing with Petr?”
“Of course I do!” Skorri said indignantly. “I know all about haggling. Just ask Erik. I won’t settle for less than one drinar for each vial, more for new perfumes we’ve never before sold in Chanture.”
“And don’t answer any questions about the lyceum,” Thane reminded him. “Petr would like nothing better than to learn our ingredients, or the secrets for blending and curing. Perfumery is a very profitable venture in Chanture. And competitive.”
“I’ll remember. I’ll tell him I’m just an agent and don’t know anything of perfume making.” He gave Thane a seductive look. “And I can distract him if need be. You said he has an eye for boys?”
“And girls too. He must be nearing thirty now, but I’ll wager he’s as eager as ever. It’s been five years since I sold him perfume myself. He offered me a generous bonus if I’d demonstrate an intimate scent for him. Like many in Chanture, an enticing fragrance increases his passion.”
“You declined the offer?” Ander asked.
Thane shrugged. “Chanture holds too many memories for me. And while Petr is a decent man, I have no real love for him.” He gave Ander a
n understanding look. “Like you, I wouldn’t have made a good companion. Especially now that I’ve found true friends again.”
And pleasures of the flesh are far greater when you’re linked with your lover, Ander knew. He resolved to renew his efforts at overcoming that barrier.
They left Skorri at the corner of the avenue where Petr’s shop was located. Though Thane would have liked to see his old acquaintance, the meeting would have been too dangerous. Five years ago, he had looked like a ruggedly sensual nineteen-year-old when he’d met the perfume merchant. Petr would likely have remembered his striking looks, and his unchanged appearance would have been notable, possibly alarming. It was far safer to leave the task of selling perfume to Skorri, who needed the experience anyway.
Lord Tolmin’s estate was in the lower part of the city, among the canals and forested avenues favored by the old aristocracy. They wove through the crowded streets, Thane leading the way, taking frequent detours as canals crossed their path. Ander soon lost track of their route and marveled that Thane could still navigate the maze so effortlessly. He contented himself with ogling the fine shops and cafés lining the street, the elaborately carved walls surrounding the great estates they passed, the colorfully lacquered boats that swept beneath them when they crossed over canals.
Within an hour they came to a broad avenue lined with huge oaks and maples. Stately mansions stood back from the road, partially hidden by formal gardens and elaborate fountains. Ander didn’t need to be told when they arrived at the mansion belonging to Lord Tolmin. The central hall was flanked by tall greenhouses, and its balconies were crammed with plants in clay pots. An air of genteel decrepitude permeated the grounds. Despite its unconventional nature, he found the place relaxing.
