by Xenia Melzer
“Easy, Barbarian. Sic has just woken up. He hasn’t had breakfast yet.”
“He can eat later. Now come!”
Renaldo grabbed Sic by the hand, dragging him into the morning light like an impatient toddler would his mother. In front of the tent, they were all gathered. Up front were Noemi and the Emeris—Hulda, Wolfstan, Kalad, Aegid, and Noran, although the master smith stayed back when the others approached their new brother. Behind them came the warriors and then the slaves. They all wanted to greet, or at least catch a glimpse of, the last Emeris. Sic was buried under an avalanche of hugs, kisses, and salutations. It was Canubis who rescued him in the end.
“It’s enough! Sic has gone through a lot, and we still have to get back home before the winter storms set in. So while he eats his breakfast, it would be nice if the rest of you could put down the camp and prepare our departure.”
THE JOURNEY back to the Valley was peaceful; no highwayman was crazy enough to go after the heavily armed baggage of the divine brothers. Sic spent a lot of his time with Hulda, who introduced him to the rules that would shape his life as an Emeris from now on. If he wasn’t with the beautiful killer, he rode next to Casto. Most of the time, they kept their silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. They didn’t need words to understand each other. In the evenings, when the slaves erected the camp, the Angel of Death took Sic aside to teach him the basics of fighting. Sometimes Aegid and Kalad would accompany him and act as sparring partners. Renaldo was satisfied with Sic’s progress.
“You’re a fast learner, Sic. And you’re talented. Soon you’ll be able to stand your ground in any fight—except against me, of course.”
Sic bowed demurely at receiving such praise.
“You’re very gracious, my lord.”
Renaldo put his hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“You know you don’t have to call me ‘lord’ anymore? At least not all the time.”
“Yes, but I have to get used to the thought first. Not long ago I was worth even less than the dust beneath your feet. My sudden ascent is still confusing me.”
The powerful warrior laughed out loud.
“You’re not the first one. Believe me, you’ll get used to it. In a hundred years’ time, we’ll think about this day and have a good laugh.”
At the mention of his immortality, Sic still felt uneasy. He didn’t want to imagine what it felt like to have all the time in the world. Right now he didn’t want to think about anything at all.
When they were only a few days’ ride from the Valley, Canubis sent a messenger to announce the happy news about their latest addition.
“We want the last Emeris to have accommodation befitting his rank,” he had told his brother with a broad smile. Renaldo had reciprocated the smile. Both gods were in an exceptionally good mood, since the time of waiting was finally over for them.
The welcome to the Valley was as effusive as could be expected in view of such good news. Cornelia and Bantu had prepared an elaborate feast during which Sic was officially introduced as the eighth Emeris. A shower of gifts rained down on him, and his spartan rooms in the main house filled up quickly, a fact he mainly owed to Aegid. The intimidating giant had excellent taste and was eager to decorate Sic’s new home.
More important to Sic than the pleasant housing was the small forge Renaldo had built for him adjacent to his chambers. Through a newly installed door, he could enter his working space any time he wanted. Since his rooms were facing west, away from those of the other Emeris, he wouldn’t disturb them even when he started working early in the morning or stayed late into the night. Sic was so happy about this, he even managed to forget about Noran for a couple of minutes each day.
The master smith kept away from him. Even coincidental meetings were rare, although Sic longed to see his master’s face. He hated himself for still loving the monster who had hurt him so much. The contradictory feelings tore him up inside, constantly gnawing at him, making his thoughts go round and round without ever coming to a solution. Even the peace in his smithy was disturbed by this emotional whirlwind.
Only during the training sessions with the Angel of Death was Noran completely erased from his thoughts for some time. The god was working him so mercilessly, he had trouble standing on his own two feet after each lesson. This overwhelming exhaustion helped him to stop his useless pondering, at least for a while.
Another reason for worry were the slaves he had received during the feast as part of a welcoming gift. The two men and three women still saw the traitor in him he had been at his departure in spring, and they acted accordingly. Not being able to bring himself to punish them didn’t help his case at all. He was still musing how to solve this problem on his own, because he would rather die than ask any of his new brethren for help, when Casto took matters in hand. How his friend had found out about it, Sic didn’t want to know, but it reminded him never to forget that Casto was far more than met the eye.
One day, his capricious friend waited in front of Sic’s door with an elderly slave at his side.
“Sic, may I introduce Gweris to you? She’s been working for Renaldo for ages, and from now on, she’s going to take care of you. You’re so busy at the moment, nobody can expect you to keep your slaves in line as well. Gweris is going to do that for you.”
The slave bowed to him respectfully. Her voice was a soothing, congenial alto.
“My Lord Sic.”
“Gweris. I’m honored to meet you. Please, come in.”
The slave entered the room. Her friendly green-brown eyes narrowed when she took in the chaos inside. Her voice was stern when she talked to her new owner.
“Where are your slaves, Master?”
Sic blushed. “To be frank, I don’t know.”
With a last scornful glance, Gweris pushed the two young men out of her way.
“I understand. I’m going to take care of this.”
Her tone of voice indicated that those on the receiving end of her wrath would regret their abhorrent behavior quite deeply. When she was gone, Casto’s shoulders slumped forward.
“I admit, she’s a bit scary, but she’s also the best.”
“Scary? You’re kidding me, right? I almost lost control of my bladder, that’s how terrified I am. Have you seen her eyes? She’s almost as bad as Cassia. I think Gweris has only spared me right now because she was too busy being furious about my slaves. How can anybody own a woman like her?”
Casto grinned.
“Because she chooses her masters, which is the reason I brought her to you. Even Renaldo treads carefully around her. She’s going to bring your servants to heel.”
Embarrassed, Sic glanced at the ground. “How did you know?”
“I’m your friend, Sic. And a king, heart of a god, and not stupid. I can sense it when you’re upset. This is a problem with which I can help you, so I did.”
The underlying message in these words was clear. The king also knew about Sic’s other problems, even though he wasn’t able to offer useful counsel. His voice was very gentle.
“Perhaps you should talk to somebody who understands what you’ve been through. Once you think you’re ready, I’m sure Cornelia will gladly listen to you.”
Lost for words, Sic embraced Casto. He thanked the Mothers for blessing him with such a wonderful friend. It was up to him to prove that he was worthy of such grace.
IN THE meantime, Kalad and Aegid were sprawled on their huge bed, Daran lying between them, sleeping soundly after hours and hours of strenuous lovemaking. In order to celebrate their safe return to the Valley, the desert brothers hadn’t held back when they enjoyed their delightful slave. Aegid was drawing lazy circles on the thief’s still-hot skin, musing about how perfectly the three of them fitted together. Daran stirred a little in his sleep and the giant’s fingers stopped their journey, not wanting to wake the young man. Instead, the warrior regarded the makeshift collar their slave was wearing. Because of the attack by Sar’reff, the original one had
been damaged beyond repair. Until they could get a new one, the desert brothers had given Daran one of their old stock, which did not fit as well and had a clasp made of steel, not gold. It wasn’t a satisfying solution at all, but now they were back home, they could get the young man a new one.
“What do you think, Kalad, should we go for a golden one this time? We still have that bag of pebble-sized emeralds somewhere, and I think it would suit the little thief very well.”
“There’s no need to concern yourself about such things, Aegid. We don’t have to get Daran a new collar, for we’re going to sell him in the near future.”
Kalad’s voice was level, as if he were stating a mere fact, not a decision with far-reaching consequences. Aegid sighed. This wasn’t entirely unexpected, for he had known his desert brother for too long. It still was unwelcome, though. He was just about to open his mouth when Daran stirred again, making a mewling sound deep in his throat. Kalad looked grim.
“Let’s move this discussion elsewhere.”
They both got up stealthily and left the bedroom without making a sound. As soon as the door closed behind them, Daran’s eyes snapped open. He had been just awake enough to hear about his masters’ plans to sell him. It was like somebody had punched him in the guts. A long time ago, Daran had faced and accepted the fact that those two men were the center of his life, that he would always be theirs. And until now, he had thought they felt the same way about him. Nothing in their actions had ever woken any doubt in him, which made the blow even worse. Obviously, their feelings for him did not run as deep as his for them, and there was very little he could do to prevent his fate. But he could at least try. Maybe if he showed them how serious he was about being a good, obedient, and faithful slave, they would reconsider their decision. Daran clung to that thin straw of hope while tears of misery streamed down his cheeks.
In the main room, Aegid was glaring at Kalad. He usually followed the spry warrior’s lead in everything, but this was an entirely different matter.
“Why in the Mothers’ names do you want to sell him now?”
Kalad was tense. He had expected opposition, but the giant’s fierceness came as a shock.
“You know why, Aegid. We have no choice.”
“I’d say it’s already too late. Face the truth, Kalad. We’ve fallen in love, and we’ve fallen hard. There’s no turning back now. Besides, he’s perfect for us. We’ve never had a lover who accepted our bond as wholeheartedly as Daran does. He’s emphatic, intuitive, downright dirty when it suits him, and he’s got the same humor as we do. There’s nothing wrong about him. It’s as if he was handcrafted just for us.”
“I’m aware, Aegid. Which is why we have to end this now. End it before we get in too deep, before our world starts revolving around him.”
“But it already does! And you know it. Back in Ummana, when he was on that stupid mission, you were even more worried than me, and when he was almost killed… we both were devastated. If that’s not in too deep, then what are you afraid of?”
Kalad reached out for Aegid, resting his forehead on the huge man’s chest. He sounded lost now, almost like a child.
“I just can’t lose him, Aegid. I just can’t. You know what it’s like, how we all will suffer. And I don’t want that. Call me selfish, but I don’t want the drama. I don’t want the pain. I most certainly don’t want to watch the love of our lives wither and die while we can do nothing but stand on the sidelines. Until now, the two of us were always enough. Can’t we go back to that?”
Aegid sighed deeply. Of course he understood his brother. He, too, wasn’t too keen on all the complications a serious relationship with a human implied. But he had a nagging feeling that it was already too late. Daran had been with them for five years, enough time to fall deeply in love. And fallen they had. There was nothing that wasn’t adorable about the little thief. He was intelligent, alluring in his own rough-hewn way, and simply outstanding in bed. Never before had the warriors enjoyed a sexual partner who was as willing, submissive, and—at the same time—demanding as Daran. He respected the bond between his masters, didn’t try to get in between or play them against each other like others had tried before him. On the contrary, he seemed to be thrilled to have two owners instead of one.
And Daran always knew what his masters expected of him; he always behaved perfectly. So letting him go wasn’t an option Aegid had ever considered seriously. Of course, it was their own fault. They should have gotten rid of Daran the moment they realized things were getting out of hand, but it had been too comfortable, too exciting to be with him. And now their tardiness had gotten back at them.
“What do you think we should do?”
Kalad’s gaze hardened. As much as it hurt, there was only one answer to this question.
“We part ways with him. Better now than in the next year. The pain will only get worse.”
Aegid sighed. He knew this was the best solution for all of them, Daran included, but he didn’t want to lose the thief. So he tried reasoning with Kalad.
“How do you want to do that? Just letting him go? You know he’s not fit to survive on his own.”
Irritated, Kalad took a step backward. He, too, didn’t really want to part with the thief, but unlike Aegid, he was terrified of the pain waiting for them should they keep Daran. It was better to let him go now than to receive the wound later, when it would leave even deeper scars.
“I’m aware of that. I want him well off, which is why I thought about sharing him with others. He’ll learn to use sex as a weapon, and we can get used to the idea of not having him around anymore. Once he’s learned to get by without us, we’ll find him a rich lover outside the Valley. Given his looks and talents, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Sharing him, just like that? What if he doesn’t give his consent?”
Kalad stared at his brother. He had never thought about that possibility. If Daran didn’t want to, there was no way they could get him used to the touch of other people.
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
“We could still sell him. I’ve been approached by various people who were interested in buying him—and willing to pay a hefty price for that privilege.”
The brothers shared a look. There was no way they could ever bring themselves to simply sell Daran, no matter the sum. What this meant if their slave refused to start serving others as well, they didn’t want to think about. It was too much like what they were wishing for from the bottom of their hearts.
“WELCOME, SIC. Casto has already mentioned that you wanted to visit me.”
Cornelia’s soft voice was like a balm for Sic’s tumultuous thoughts. He had hesitated for more than three days over whether he should talk to the Emeris or not. In the end, he had chosen to do so simply because things couldn’t get any worse than they were now. His thoughts were constantly circling around his former master, and he was getting tired of the torture. Whether Cornelia would be able to help him, he didn’t know, but Casto was right. He had to talk to somebody who at least understood what it meant to be hurt like that. Nevertheless, he was still terrified of revisiting the past again. Not even Casto knew about the worst things Noran had done to him. All Sic wanted was to forget. It helped that the scars on his body were gone, but the ones on his soul couldn’t be so easily cured, not even by Ana-Isara.
Some nights, he woke up screaming and covered in sweat because a faceless stranger was torturing him sadistically. They were the things his master had done to him, but when he woke, he craved Noran’s presence. All he wanted then was to be held and comforted by the master smith. The contrariness of his feelings, the equivocality of his own thoughts, nourished fears that threatened to consume him. He was no longer able to see the wonder and beauty in small things, like a leaf tinted by autumn. His ability to take pleasure from things apparently mundane to others was diminished by an overwhelming fear that held his heart in a squeezing grip. Cornelia was probably his last chance to change things.
&n
bsp; “I hope my visit is not inconvenient?”
Cornelia’s rough features brightened in a friendly smile. Sic didn’t know much about this woman, except that her singing voice had the power to move even stones to tears. She was responsible for the smooth operation of all the daily affairs in the Valley, as well as looking after and taking care of the countless slaves who didn’t have one specified owner but served all the mercenaries. She was also the only Emeris who never showed up for the Spring Ceremony and who didn’t have the slightest interest in any sexual flings. Given what she had been through, this was understandable. Now she motioned him inside.
“No, it’s not. Come in, I’m going to make some tea.”
Sic watched in silence as the Emeris put a kettle on the iron stove, filled a small linen bag with various herbs she took from heavy glass jars lined up in the cupboard, and then poured the boiling water over it. She placed two cups with spoons and a jar of honey on the table, and sat down.
“I assume you wish to talk to me about the things you’ve endured at Noran’s hand. Am I right?”
Sic felt crimson invading his cheeks. This was going to be even harder than he had imagined.
“Only if you want, my lady. I know how painful this is.”
Cornelia smiled again, but this time there was a darkness underneath which made Sic flinch. She poured him some tea and pushed the honey toward him.
“Take plenty. Discussions like this one need lots of sweetness to help bear the pain.”
Obediently Sic stirred two generous helpings of honey into his beverage before he looked up. He didn’t know where to start. Fortunately, the Emeris took the decision from him. She started to tell her story in a dispassionate voice, as if the horrible things she had endured had been done to somebody else.
“I was twenty when it happened. Because of my looks, I hadn’t found a husband yet and was completely inexperienced. I had resigned myself to staying unmarried for the rest of my life. Since I had my brother and my music, this wasn’t bad at all. I was genuinely happy.
