by Xenia Melzer
“Are you displeased, my lord?”
As if he had been pried from a trance, Renaldo looked up. Smiling, he shook his head.
“No, not in the least. I’m just overwhelmed. I hadn’t seriously expected to ever meet the old Noran again, but here you are, almost as good as old. I’m really glad.”
He patted the smith’s massive biceps.
“You and Sic are making progress, aren’t you?”
“Baby steps, my lord. But I’m grateful for every little thing. Considering what I deserve and what he’s offering me, I’m a lucky man.”
“Indeed you are. Sic is probably the most generous man I’ve ever met.” Renaldo looked at Noran directly. “Which leads us straight to the point. What are you planning to do, Noran? And I mean in the long term.”
The master smith sat down next to his god. It was a question he had been pondering ever since Sic had made his generous offer.
“I guess I’m still hoping to win him back, one day, in a distant future.”
Renaldo nodded.
“I assumed as much. But what will you do if this is all you’ll ever get? I know how much you love him. It reeks of obsession. Will you be able to handle rejection?”
“If you’re asking if I’m going to repeat the mistakes of the past, I can reassure you, my lord. There’s no way I’ll ever let anything so abominable happen again. And if I’m really rejected, well, I may be absent from the Valley for prolonged intervals of time, to deal with the pain.”
Renaldo leaned back against the wall. He was satisfied with this answer.
“And what are you going to do if he allows you to get closer? Somehow I get the feeling that might be as dangerous as the other option.”
Wistfully, Noran stared at the ceiling.
“Should Sic ever grace me with his trust again, I’m going to woo him properly. I will take my time to prove that I’m worthy of being with him. I will do everything in my power to make him happy.”
“Sounds good to me. But you’ll have to make a bit more of an effort. As things are now, you’re in no shape to woo even a stone. I mean, you never were what I’d call a natural charmer to begin with, and in the past century, you’ve taken a turn for the worse. You should really work on your social skills.”
Noran stared at his god in disbelief.
“Are you trying to tell me you’re fine with me going after Sic?”
Renaldo smiled as he had done on the day they first met, the open, friendly gesture of a young man who hadn’t had a bad experience in his life before.
“I’m trying to tell you a lot more. It’s called subtext, but since you’re not getting it, I’m going to be more direct. I’m willing to forgive you, Noran. Not right now—it’s still a little too early for that—but in the near future. And not just the thing with Sic, but also the incident with Arja. For that, I’ll even take part of the blame, since I didn’t speak up when I had the chance.”
Dumbfounded, Noran could only stare at his god. This sudden turn of events was more than he would have ever dreamed of. Trembling, he went down on one knee.
“Thank you.”
It was only two words, and yet they conveyed more than an entire speech would have been able to express. Renaldo grinned, satisfied with how things had turned out. Then he helped Noran up.
“Don’t mess up again, brother.”
ABOUT TWO weeks before the Spring Ceremony, Daran was standing in front of Sic’s rooms, accompanied by his owners. Kalad and Aegid had conferred about how they could repay the smith for what Daran had done for a long time. In the end, they had come to a conclusion that was honorable, yet highly unattractive. Nevertheless, Sic was an Emeris, a brother-in-arms. It was inevitable to indemnify him properly. Which was the reason they had brought their thief like a lamb chosen for sacrifice. When Kalad knocked, it wasn’t Sic who opened, but Casto. The king looked at them in surprise.
“Kalad, Aegid. Nice to see you. Sic hasn’t mentioned anything about expecting guests. Come in.”
He stepped aside invitingly.
“We haven’t announced our coming.”
Kalad sat down on a divan next to a small table with golden inlay. He declined the wine Casto offered him and Aegid.
“It won’t take long.”
Casto regarded the desert warriors and their thief sharply. Something was wrong, and since he didn’t want Sic to have yet another unpleasant surprise, he decided to find out what.
“What’s the matter with you? You’re as tense as a father who’s planning to sell off his only daughter to a stranger.”
Kalad opened his mouth to answer Casto when Sic entered the room. He stared at his guests, momentarily taken aback; then his gaze darkened. Daran, who had watched the smith closely, hurried over to him and knelt down. Confused, Sic looked at Kalad, whose face had become serious. When he had seen the three men, Sic assumed they had come to incriminate him, something he deserved after what he had done.
“We’re here because of Daran’s abominable behavior.”
Kalad sounded strained; it was obvious how much he resented what he was about to do.
“You’re our brother, and we know how much grief our slave’s lie has caused you. We have already punished him severely, but you, too, have a right to castigate him as you deem fit. For the next week, Daran is yours. You can do to him whatever you wish.”
Silence descended on the room, only to be broken by a whistle from Casto. The king was grinning with malicious glee.
“So you are selling off your only daughter….”
Kalad and Aegid were too tense to react to this banter and simply ignored it. Sic was staring wide-eyed from Casto to the desert brothers and then to Daran, who was still kneeling in front of him, his head demurely bowed. A smile brightened the smith’s features, and he bent down to help the thief up.
“So you’re mine for the next week?”
“Yes, Master. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
Sic stared into the big brown eyes, which looked back at him despondently. He was almost able to grasp the fear and remorse coming from Daran. And he understood him only too well, for he himself had once been willing to do everything for his master’s love. Luckily, there was an amiable solution to this loaded situation. Gently Sic caressed Daran’s cheek.
“Since you’ve got to do whatever I wish, these are my orders. The entire next week, you’re going to serve my brothers, Lord Aegid and Lord Kalad. You will do everything in your power to please them, for they are my dear brothers-in-arms and two very special persons I want to be happy.”
“Lord.” Daran’s voice was a mixture of disbelief and surprise. Smiling, Sic motioned him toward the desert brothers.
“Come on, go over. I’m sure they know better than me what to do with you.”
Seeking help, Daran glanced at his masters, but they were too stunned to react. Kalad approached Sic with his mouth set in a determined streak.
“Daran has inconvenienced you, to say the least. It’s only just you make him pay.”
Sic shook his head.
“Strictly speaking, I was the one who inconvenienced Daran, and he was so generous as to forgive me. How can I do less? Moreover, you only wanted to help me, and in a certain sense, you’ve done that. If I hadn’t experienced that night, I’d probably still be moping, unable to change myself. Thanks to you, my situation is already improving. All I want is to end this regrettable incident for us all. If Daran can forgive me, I’ll do the same.”
Aegid hugged the smith silently; his brother followed his example.
“You truly are generous, Sic. We’ll never forget this.”
“You’re my brothers. Did you really think I could lay a finger on Daran when I know how much you love him? Despite that, we’re friends.”
He turned to the thief.
“I’ve neither forgotten how you forgave me so readily after that dreadful night, nor how you’ve always been friendly to me even when none of the other slaves bothered to do so.”
“I never want to hear another word about this topic, agreed?”
“Agreed, Lord Sic.”
Daran’s voice was thin but full of relief. His exuberant imagination had shown him the most horrible things Sic might to do to him to punish him for his lie. In hindsight it was, of course, nonsense, for the smith was a gentle, kindly person. Still, the days since his owners had told him how they planned to reimburse their brother-in-arms had been unpleasant.
“Now I’d take some of that wine.”
Kalad’s relieved voice disturbed Daran’s train of thought. Casto took out five wine cups, but when he offered one to the thief, he shook his head.
“I have no right. But if you allow, I’ll serve you.”
He reached for the jar to refill the Emeris’ cups. Over the bent head of their slave, Casto winked at his masters.
“Daran, it’s nauseating how perfectly well-trained you are. Can’t you be a little bit more disobedient? Or at least defiant? Just something that shows me you’re alive and not some puppet on a string.”
“Leave him alone, Casto. It’s not his fault that he’s perfect.”
The blond made a face. Mischief sparked to life in his eyes.
“Is that why you gave him such a nice, shiny new collar?”
Upon these words, Daran unconsciously reached for the new jewelry around his neck. The old, battered one had indeed been replaced by one that looked more like an adornment fit for a princess and not like a symbol for slavery. It was still made from leather, like the first one he had gotten, but the material was hardly visible underneath the thick layer of emerald splinters attached to it with thin golden threads. The clasp was golden as well, with an emerald the size of a large coin sitting on top of it. Among all their other treasures, the desert brothers had found the aforementioned bag of jewels after some frantic searching.
“The presents we bestow on our slave are none of your business, Your Highness. You’re just jealous you’ve never gotten anything like it.”
Kalad watched with amusement as his god’s heart grew angry. The mesmerizing blue eyes darkened dangerously, and the sensuous lips trembled slightly.
“As if.” The words came out like a hiss, and things might have gotten out of hand if Aegid hadn’t drained his cup and then shooed his desert brother and their slave out of the room. As soon as they were gone, Casto cooled down. Sic knew he would never tire of watching this quick display of emotions.
“Well, that was something.”
“Do you think I was wrong? Did I handle the situation poorly?”
“No, certainly not. I mean, Daran wasn’t at fault at all. Neither were you, by the way. Those two arrogant bastards are to blame, and they know it. You made it too easy for them.”
Sic couldn’t help but grin.
“What would you have done?”
Pure malevolence made Casto look like a very handsome god of revenge.
“I’d have kept their precious thief for the entire week—without letting them see him. Just for fun, of course.”
“You truly are wicked, Casto. I’d never be able to do such a thing.”
“You’re not the first one to tell me that, my friend. Makes me doubt my impact on others.”
Sic knew better than to follow this path of conversation. Instead, he started talking about other, much lighter topics.
4. SPRING CEREMONY
GROANING, RENALDO closed his eyes when his lover’s lips engulfed the tip of his member. Casto was taking his time. He enjoyed torturing his mate, a just revenge for the sweet agony the Angel of Death had invoked in him during the course of this evening. But Casto never got to enjoy his fill, for when the warrior had enough, he simply grabbed him, turned him around, and entered again deeply. Casto resisted in a playful manner, willing to turn what had been meant to be an aftermath into a wild pairing again. Renaldo chuckled happily.
“Have I told you how glad I am you’re no longer a mortal?”
“Not today, but you do mention it quite often—especially in bed.”
“That’s because I can’t get enough of your new stamina. You’ve always had remarkable endurance, but now….”
“You only say that because I’m putting up with you.”
“And because I don’t have to hold back. No matter what I’m doing to you, you endure it—you even enjoy it.”
A wave of heat flared between them. Casto pressed his naked ass against his mate. His voice was savage, coming from a place so deep within it almost hurt letting it out.
“You know how much I like it when you’re losing control.”
A growl was the answer, and the movements of the god grew faster. Both men gave in to the rush that overwhelmed them whenever they let all restraints go.
Later, Casto leaned on his mate’s broad chest. Renaldo’s right hand was resting on his lover’s thigh while he held a cup of wine with his left. Now and then he would take a sip and hold it against Casto’s lips as well.
“What’s going to happen now that we’ve found all the Emeris?”
Renaldo put down the cup. His voice was implacable.
“We’re going to obliterate the Good Mother.”
“I assumed as much. I’d only like to know more details.”
“We don’t really know. We were still young when Mother took our hearts. We had just arrived in this world. We have yet to find the full extent of our powers. It’ll take some years until we really know what we’re able to do. The Emeris, too, have to get acquainted with their talents. Sic’s arrival has turned all of them into demigods. What exactly this entails, we don’t know. For the time being, we’ll continue to wage war, although we’re going to concentrate on the areas where the Good Mother has the most supporters.”
“So it won’t be boring?”
“Certainly not, my own.”
Lost in thought, Casto traced his mate’s abdominal muscles with his fingertips. Renaldo took his hand and kissed it.
“Please, don’t worry, my own. So far I haven’t felt the urge to enslave you completely.”
“Yet you do know my thoughts.”
“That’s not difficult. I know you pretty well by now, and even though Hulda claims differently, I do have a certain empathy. I know your worries.”
“You know what troubles me most? That the thought of belonging to you entirely is starting to lose its horror. Seems like I’m getting used to it.”
Renaldo’s eyes lit up. Then he created a picture in his mind—Casto, chained with the leather cuffs, his arms behind his back, his upper body resting on the bed, his rear stretched up invitingly.
The young man’s breath hitched. Silently he got up to fulfill his god’s will.
HEART POUNDING wildly in his chest, Sic stood in front of the door that led to Noemi’s realm. He still doubted the wisdom of what he was about to do, but he was running out of time and options. Today had been the final fitting for his official new robes, all in blinding white, and the Spring Ceremony was drawing nearer. He was cornered like a rat, his only way out being the snake witch. Sic lifted his hand to knock.
“Come in.”
Noemi’s voice was warm and friendly, as always. When she saw who her unexpected guest was, the smile on her face deepened.
“Sic! What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here?”
Shyly, Sic sat down on one of the chairs the witch indicated. Noemi looked at him expectantly.
“Given how you’re fidgeting, I assume you want to ask me something difficult?”
Grateful, Sic looked up.
“Yes. And I don’t know how to start.”
Her tiny hands closed around his callused ones in a reassuring manner.
“I’m a healer, Sic. There are few things that can shock me, and I’m pretty sure you aren’t capable of performing them. A certain pair of desert warriors, yes. But not you.”
In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Sic couldn’t suppress a snicker. It was too easy, pic
turing Kalad and Aegid doing something outrageous. The statement also reassured him. There were worse things than what he wanted from her.
“I wanted to ask you if you could mix me a drug for the Spring Ceremony. One that shuts down my mind so I can’t think about what’s happening.”
Noemi’s eyes widened.
“So you’re planning to participate? If it’s so hard on you, why don’t you refuse? You know you have the right, don’t you?”
Sic evaded her gaze. The situation was complicated, and it seemed as if he had no choice but to explain it.
“I know. Nevertheless, your husband and his brother are expecting me to come. It’s hard for me not to do their bidding, especially when I know how much it means to them.”
Noemi made a dismissive gesture.
“They’re both grown men. They can live with disappointment. It’s no reason for you to force yourself into doing something that requires the use of drugs in order to bear it.”
“It’s not just that. Lady Noemi, what was it like when Ana-Isara kissed you?”
Noemi furrowed her brows. She couldn’t see where Sic was aiming with this question. Yet she could sense how agitated he was.
“I guess it’s been different for all of us. And me, well, I wasn’t alone when I met her. Shaa-Azar is always with me. It was still very intense. This feeling of inevitability. Knowing that your fate is chosen and there’s nothing you can do to alter it. Of course, I was already madly in love with Canubis at the time, so from my point of view, everything was fine.”
Sic sighed deeply.
“I had a choice. I could have said no. And not because Ana-Isara would leave me one, but because there’s something inside me that can defy even her. I don’t know what was worse, realizing I was chosen or knowing I had the means to say no.”
Noemi stared at Sic open-mouthed. Like everybody else in the Valley, she knew little about the Luksari. Even the snake hadn’t been able—or willing—to tell her more than she had deduced from touching the young man. Considering what she knew, Sic’s statement wasn’t as outrageous as it seemed at first glance.
