Mayr's lingering headache flared. Palms pressed to his temples, he squeezed his eyes shut against the list of things to do by day's end. He needed to amend the roster of guards. The recent changes were not good enough.
"One of those days, is it?" a voice asked from behind him, the feminine tone edged with amusement. "Maybe I'll go find you something that doesn't taste like rotten eggs to chase the feeling away."
An effortless smile spread across Mayr's lips. "Depends," he said, turning towards Lira Dahe. His glance flitted over her white shawl and rich mauve gown, its subtle red tinge visible where the dim sunlight hit. "If Cook's made some of those mincemeat tarts she was threatening to throw at me, the day might just clear up fine." He winked at her. "Keep me well fed, don't forget my sweet tooth, and I'll be the happiest fool walking."
"I'm sure—walking yourself straight into death by food." Lira clasped a brown leather-bound book to her chest and shook her head. Strands of her dark brown hair slipped from the jeweled combs keeping the loose curls out of her face. "I'd say someone should starve you, but I'm sure a certain priest would disagree. I suppose you're his sweet tooth?"
"Maybe. Tash does like to—"
Lira raised her hand. The layered mauve cuffs of her heavy gown fell back, exposing pale tan skin. As usual, black ink stained her fingers. "Wait, don't answer. I hear enough from your room when he's home."
Home. The word twisted Mayr's gut and stabbed his lacking resolve. It sounded normal coming from her, as though Tash lived with them instead of splitting his time between the estate and the temple at the edge of the village. One day, maybe Tash would consider the estate home. Maybe he would consider Mayr's bed his own and agree to live together permanently. Assuming I ever find the courage to ask him.
Mayr stared at Lira, wanting to tell her everything. If only he could say the words. Aeley hated when he kept his thoughts to himself, and Lira was no more tolerant. While Aeley had every reason to berate him, having known him since they were eleven years old, Lira was a new friend with equal sway on his decisions. Lira had earned his trust after she married Aeley and supported her during the rough start of Aeley's term as Tract Steward. They were his sisters by choice rather than by blood, and he served them the best he could.
Still, he could not tell her what weighed on him when he should be worrying about that night's dinner plans.
"Good to know we have an audience." Mayr swallowed the bile of his cowardice and grinned. "I'll make sure we scream extra loud tonight. Have to keep our admirers happy."
Lips pursed, Lira cast him a skeptical glance. "Entertained, maybe. Maybe." She stepped past him and sank onto the window seat. As she fussed with her gown and shawl, the multiple skirts beneath her dress peeked out from under the hem, each layer a different shade of mauve. Born to the Derossa family, one of the influential Grand Families in Kattal, Lira's prim appearance marked her as a member of the higher caste. She always looked proper, always played her part, even if only in presentation. Unlike the rest of the Derossas, she was disinterested in power and wealth. Content to work as Aeley's scribe, Lira asked for little.
Meanwhile, Aeley gave her everything. Despite the challenges Aeley's position threw at them, their marriage did not suffer. They worked together, often deriving solutions to fix Gailarin's problems through their unified partnership. Gailarin had thrived under the control of Aeley's father, Korre, the previous Tract Steward. Since his death, the region continued to prosper under Aeley's governance. With time and encouragement, Aeley was becoming the leader Mayr had always expected her to be. She stood strong for the nation of Kattal, no matter what.
And I'll be here as long as she is.
He never wanted to be anywhere else. His place was with Aeley, protecting her and those she guarded. A piece of him had always known his family's farm would never be his life's work. Just as his heart belonged to matters of defense, he would die with a weapon in his hand and fight in his spirit.
Let the Shar suck on that. If they want Tash, Ress, or Adren, they'll have to work for it so hard their ancestors will cry for mercy.
"You've got that face on," Lira said softly, laying her book on the pillow beside her. She drew the grey quilt around her shoulders and curled up on the cushions. "Was the meeting with Severn that bad? Or was it the prison? Did Adren's family say anything useful?"
Mayr snorted. "I don't think nasty names and 'get out of my face' counts as useful."
"So nothing about what the Shar-denn will do now, I take it?"
"No, things about them were brought up in our meetings, just not what we expected." Mayr sighed, long and deep, then crossed his arms and rolled his shoulders to stretch his back. "It's been a long couple of days, that's all. More than a couple, considering the Feast of Taleyra was a few days ago. I still haven't recovered from that whole thing. Dancing diplomats, whimsical worshippers, merry musicians—too much happy for the first day of winter. Not to mention someone was sick all over my favourite staircase twice. I had to clean it." He stuck out his tongue. "I'm only thirty-one, Li. I'm too young to feel this bloody old. Tell me I'm not going grey already," he whined with a pitiful whimper, grappling at his hair.
Lira laughed, the light sound echoing in the hallway. "Better you than me. At least you'll look dashing. I'll just look a mess."
"Yeah, but you'll be a pretty mess. Pretty beats dashing."
"Says…?"
"Aeley."
"Ah. Guess that's settled."
"Hey, not my rules." Mayr raised both hands. "I say what I know and do what I'm told."
"Like make Councilman Severn so angry she wants your head for a mantelpiece?"
Mayr's lips formed a silent oh. His relationship with Severn, the Councilman in charge of Kattal's public safety, had not improved since Ress and Adren's liberation from the Shar-denn. The tone he took at Ress and Adren's first hearing had yet to be forgotten, especially by Severn. She had requested that Aeley formerly reprimand him in front of the entire Dahe guard and the High Council—a request Aeley had denied.
"About that…" Mayr scratched the back of his neck, cold nails digging lightly into the black tattoos around his neck. "I may have apologized again today. Severn may or may not have heard it. At least she let me into her office this time. I was even served water. In a goblet. That was clean."
"Well, there's progress." Lira tilted her head. "Seriously, are you all right? Do we have to be worried?"
"Not about that," Mayr answered quietly. Arms folded, he leaned against the wall. "I'm just being difficult for the sake of being a pain. I blame the weather." He nodded at the windows. "It was clear when we left for the prison before dawn. Then this mess started around noon on our way home from High Council Hall. Don't know if this'll change our dinner plans, but Ae's more concerned about getting the paperwork done—something about villages in the east needing to sort costs for rebuilding."
"And?"
"And maybe I'm still getting used to our new arrivals."
"Ress and Adren?"
"I know we moved them in yesterday, but it'll take me time to get used to it." Mayr stepped closer to Lira, his voice lowered. "It was one thing when they lived at the temple, but now… It feels like I have to be everywhere at once, doing my job four times over. I know they're safer here, but it makes me anxious, and I can't tell him," he whispered. "I can't tell Tash how on edge I am. It'll break his heart if we don't keep them safe. He loves Ress like a brother."
"I know. I have my reservations too." Lira caressed his shaven cheek. "We'll get through it. In this house, we keep stubbornness and hope in abundance. How about you tell me how the meetings went? I'll let you rant about Severn and filthy prisoners if it makes you feel better."
Mayr chuckled as he pulled away. "Tempting." He shrugged. "The meeting with the prison warden was a friendly chat over breakfast. The meeting with Adren's father and mother was grimy but not productive. They're set on taking the Shar's secrets to their deaths. The meeting with Adren's brothers—that was lively
, but they didn't say one thing we could use. No names, no directions, no locations. Nothing."
"So if they aren't talking to Council or to you and Aeley, what happens to them?"
"Their trials continue and Council will vote to execute them. For treason, slavery, murder, and every possible crime there is against the Republic of Kattal. I don’t know what else they'll do, other than send in Adren to ask questions."
"Throw Adren into a cell with the family ce's betrayed and watch them tear cir apart?" Lira scowled and crossed her arms. "That sounds damaging. Adren's already having enough trouble getting over abandoning cir family. I don't think that's going to be helpful."
"It could be. If they're enraged enough, they'll slip. If they drop the name of even one gang member, I'll take it. We need to round up these vile chunks of filth. They can't keep hurting people, stealing stuff, and breaking laws." Mayr scraped his boot heel across the floor and frowned at the wet streak it left. "We might as well do it now while the gang's gone quiet."
"'Gone quiet?' So Aeley's observations were right?"
"There's the interesting part." Mayr let out a loud breath, frustrated as he played with his gloves. The news should have made him happy, not spun his suspicions around a spool of doubt. "Ae's not the only one who's noticed a lull in the Shar's activity. Severn said she's noticed crime rates have gone down since we saved Ress and Adren, not up like we expected. Rathen and Kirra said they and the rest of the bounty hunters are seeing the same thing. They aren't bringing in so many criminals, and citizens aren't reporting as many incidents. It's just… quiet."
"That's great news." Lira smiled, though her glance questioned him. "Wouldn't it mean that everything the Council's done is working? That all the information Tash, Ress, and Adren gave them is doing what it should and the hunters are good at their job?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"It's hard to tell."
"Apparently it's just as difficult to smile about it."
"I'd smile if I weren't so confused." Mayr drew his fingers over one of the knives on the belt around his waist, comforted by the feel of a weapon. It was bad enough he had forgotten his sword and cloak in Aeley's study. "It's been three weeks since Ress and Adren defected. We should've seen retaliation by now—riots and raids, death threats, ransoms. Something." He squeezed the hilt of his knife. "The child of a faction boss doesn't run off without someone coming for them. By all rights, Adren and Ress should be dead."
"So this means what?"
"I don't know. I thought maybe Aeley was only seeing things in the numbers, but maybe the gang's taking a break. Or maybe we really have scared them. Maybe it's because Adren's family isn't in charge of their faction anymore—I don't know."
"Somewhere in there is a 'but.'"
Mayr twisted his lips. She knew him too well. "It'll pick up again soon. This break won't last. Maybe there's no reason—maybe things are just off. I'm still stuck on why they haven't attacked Araveena. They love intimidating the village, or so Ress says."
"You sent half a dozen of our guards to Araveena, and Severn is rotating them with republic soldiers," Lira said, one of her dark brows arched. "You told them to protect Tash and Ress's families and be visible. I'd think that has something to do with it."
"I didn't expect it to work this well," Mayr mumbled. He had expected a backlash similar to those Ress witnessed after Tash left the Shar-denn: assaulted citizens, threats sent to Araveena Ford's magistrate, and any manner of revenge. Yet no one had been harmed. Was it the increased presence of soldiers, or had the Shar-denn decided attacking the village was useless? He prayed it was the latter.
Lira crooked her finger, beckoning him to her. "I'm not good at this business," she said as he leaned down to look her in the eye, "so maybe your instincts are right. What I do know is you can't live today if you're paralyzed by tomorrow." She tapped the tip of his nose. "We're alive, all of us, and a delightful priest is waiting for you downstairs. Deal with the Shar-denn later. For now, take the good you have and find peace. You need it."
As Lira drew away, Mayr nodded. Despite his doubts, he heard her, and for all of his stubbornness, he could not disagree. Tash's safety could not wait, nor could Mayr's need to calm the turmoil inside. Changes were coming—and maybe the changes started with them.
*~*~*
Mayr stuck to the doorframe as though his bones were nailed to the wood. He leaned harder against the frame, his folded arms tightening the longer he watched the scene before him.
In the centre of the bright, lantern-lit training room, Tash moved steadily through a series of stances and restrained strikes. His breaths were as even and controlled as the gentle glide of his arms and slow steps away from the door. Focused on the furthest wall, Tash remained inside the small white circle painted on the floor, the smallest ring inside the set of six concentric white, yellow, and red rings used for training. Barefoot and stripped to the waist, Tash wore only skin-coloured bracers and the loose, dark red pants of his religious vestments. The fabric was the brightest, most delicate thing in the room compared to the grey stone walls, the dull sets of metal and leather armour on upright wooden forms, and the metallic gleam of the weapons on the racks hanging on each wall.
Nothing compared to how beautiful Tash looked lost in the concentration of a warrior's meditation. Sections of his wavy hair were pulled back, the shoulder-length brown locks and blond streaks tied with a coiled and knotted black ribbon, a hand's length of which was left trailing. Not as brawny as Mayr, Tash's light tan skin strained while his muscles worked. The tattoo of a bird spanned his entire back, wings outstretched over his broad shoulders. The twisted body followed his spine and its outspread talons appeared to dig into his lower back. A crown of feathers cascaded across his right shoulder blade, as elegant as the tail that meandered around both of his hips. Meticulously detailed and shaded with black ink, the feathers appeared real.
Mayr needed little creativity to imagine how Tash used to look as a guard for a gang boss. With even less effort, he could guess at what sparring might do to Tash's physique now.
Not that I haven't nipped and licked and sucked every bit of him. Recalling the sensation of Tash's stomach tightening under his tongue, Mayr bit back a groan. After the talk with Lira, he had dragged himself downstairs and forced himself into a professional mindset.
One glimpse of Tash made keeping that mindset impossible. Goddesses know I could take him right now. One touch, one kiss—
Mayr shuffled his feet and peered into the dimly lit hallway, wishing that alone could alleviate the twisting in his groin. There was a time for play, but this was duty and a chance to put his love to work. It was not enough to profess his feelings; he needed to show them. He wanted to make the last year and a half with Tash mean more than passing time and trading affection. While he treasured those moments, he yearned to give everything and hold back nothing. If anything, he wanted them to give up their solitary paths and build a life together.
Except I had that kind of life with Betta and it completely fell apart. I didn't even know what was going on. If it happens again, it'll be so much worse. If he leaves…
They could lose everything.
How is settling for having nothing any better? It's not fair to Tash when all he's done is give a damn. Disgusted, Mayr pushed off the doorframe and entered the room.
"Mind if I join? I hear it's more exciting with two people." Mayr crossed the room to the four chairs lined up at the end of the wall to his left. A pile of red robes lay over the back of one of the chairs. On the chair beside it was Tash's veil, the glimmering red fabric carefully arranged to avoid touching the floor.
Tash spun around and grinned as he lowered his arms. "You finally got tired of watching. I was wondering what I'd have to do to entice you."
"You've done more than enough, thanks," Mayr muttered. He shrugged off his long coat and tossed it over one of the empty chairs. "I already need a cold bath."
"Pitching you into the sn
ow naked should be sufficient."
Tempted by a dozen inappropriate answers, Mayr expected his mouth to ramble off words that sounded smart.
He stared at Tash instead, every coherent word lost. Bright blue eyes gazed back, intense and breathtaking. Mayr's fingers twitched, driven by his yearning to caress the curves of Tash's face. His skin screamed to feel Tash's lips, to be teased by his close-cropped beard. He wanted to feel Tash in all the right ways. For a moment, maybe two. Just three measly moments—
"You need to continue undressing," Tash said softly. "If we don't do this now, you won't want to later."
"How's that so bad?" Mayr unbuckled both of his belts. He slung the belt with four knives over the back of a chair, followed by his second, unarmed belt. With slow fingers, he unlaced his thick vest and stripped it off, then discarded it over the last chair. Just as slowly, he removed his long-sleeved tunic and dropped it on top of the vest. "We could just say we did it, right?"
"Mayr."
In playful retribution for Tash's not-so-playful scolding tone, Mayr stuck out his tongue.
Tash smirked. "Don't put it out if you're not putting it to use. I might just take this body home."
Mayr shrank back with a scowl. "Stop spending time with Aeley. You're starting to sound like her." To the sound of Tash's throaty laugh, Mayr yanked his lightweight shirt over his head and threw it down, adding to the pile of black fabric. Cool air danced over his naked chest, raising small bumps along his arms to his bracers. Shivers rushed through him as he unlaced his black, shin-high boots without withdrawing the knives from the sheaths sewn inside. "Yeah, sure, laugh," he said, pulling off one boot and stocking. "Next thing you know, you'll be moving in and going around like you own the place."
He froze, his bare foot in the air, the boot clenched in his hand. That was not what he had meant to say.
"Maybe one day I will," Tash murmured as he turned away.
Good job, self. Mayr dropped his boot and jerked off the other, the stocking coming off with it. Next time, I should try asking him to marry me. He'll probably think I'm joking—again. Because every time I go to say it, some pathetic comment comes out. Meanwhile, all I want to do is tell him he means everything.
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