by Xenia Melzer
“You allowed her to kiss you.”
“Yes. I allowed it. Not because I wanted to, but because I was terrified of what I could be. I’ve experienced firsthand how power can be abused, what it makes of people. I don’t ever want to become like that or go through the same misery. I just can’t.”
“And so you choose not to be disobedient even though you can’t stand what’s happening to you.”
Pity made the witch’s voice even gentler than before.
“I think I can understand you. Being singled out is never easy. Shaa-Azar was with me from the day I was born. As a child, I never thought twice about it. Only when I grew older did I start to understand the implications. It was hard. Accepting what I was, embracing the snake with all the power and responsibility it brought—it took me a long time, and it cost me dearly. Only when I met Canubis could I finally make my peace with fate. I know my words surely sound like mockery to you, but you have to come to terms with who you are and what powers you wield. There won’t be any peace for you until you manage to do that. I’m sorry.”
Sic felt tears streaming down his face.
“How long will it take me? For how much longer do I have to live like this, insecure and frightened, unable to breathe freely?”
Noemi embraced the smith and patted his back.
“I don’t know. It’s up to you. Just never forget, you have a family now, one where all the members are not only special but also willing to help you. You’re not alone.”
She let go of him and turned to one of the shelves where she kept her medicine. After a few moments’ contemplation, she selected a small vial of tinted glass.
“You take two drops on the morning of the Spring Ceremony and then another two during lunch. Just before you attend the feast, you take five drops, preferably with wine. It’ll make you feel tipsy and light-headed. Your body will be relaxed enough to feel pleasure while your mind will more or less sleep. You’ll still be able to interact with others, but it’ll be like a haze. Chances are, you won’t remember much of what is going to happen.”
Sic stared at the vial as if it could save his life.
“Thank you. Thank you so much! I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
Noemi patted his shoulder, her face grim.
“Don’t mention it. Even though it goes against everything the Spring Ceremony stands for, I can understand your reasoning. Just don’t make me do this ever again.”
The young smith kissed Noemi’s hands reverently.
“I won’t. I promise. Just this once.”
“Yeah, just this once.”
Somehow, the snake witch didn’t seem convinced.
“WOW, CASTO, you look stunning!”
Daran was gaping at the blond in awe. Casto glared back at him with so much menace it made the thief stagger back.
“Shut it! I’m not in the mood!”
“Daran, don’t look so frightened. You know what he’s like at the Spring Ceremony. Your well-meant compliments will only serve to make him angrier.”
Noemi nudged the young slave carefully, so as not to damage the silver powder all over his body—or the golden on her own. They both looked at Casto, whose defiant glare was in stark contrast to his elaborate getup. He truly was a magnificent sight, the ideal of a human being with his elegantly toned muscles, the velvet skin glowing from gold dust, and the perfect features brimming with barely concealed displeasure.
“Then may I compliment you, my lady? You look stunning as well.”
There was only the slightest hint of mischief in Daran’s voice, barely recognizable for those who didn’t look for it.
“But of course, Daran. And I do thank you for your generosity. Also, let me give the praise right back. Seeing you like this makes me wonder how Aegid and Kalad can bear being separated from you for even a minute.”
The witch’s eyes sparkled in amusement; she was enjoying this immensely. Casto pointedly turned his back on them.
“I can really do without your mockery. This is bad enough as it is, I don’t need you two to rub it in.”
“Why are you so opposed to it? I mean, you get to feel good, don’t you?”
“I don’t know about you, Daran, but I think the idea of being dragged along the lines of dozens of drunken mercenaries ogling me with lust in their eyes only to be fucked unconscious at the banquet table more than a little repulsive. As much as I like getting down and dirty with the Barbarian, I just hate it when I have an audience.”
“Oh, I don’t know. It can be quite stimulating—being watched, I mean.”
Casto shuddered.
“This only shows how much those two lecherous fiends have already corrupted you. And you were such a nice boy to begin with.”
“Don’t give us too much credit, Casto. Daran was never as innocent as he may have seemed.”
Kalad and Aegid had just entered the room to pick up their thief. Both men looked impressive in their dark green robes with white rabbit fur at the seams. They had hardly glanced at Noemi and Casto; their gazes were fixed on Daran, whose body responded quickly and proudly. Casto rolled his eyes.
“Hurry, take him with you before I have to vomit. All this lovey-dovey is hard to stand.”
“Admit it, Casto, that’s what you’re missing with Renaldo.”
Kalad hastily ducked out of the king’s reach.
“I guess we better get going.”
Aegid fastened the golden chain to Daran’s collar and then led his smirking brother and their gorgeous thief outside. Casto murmured some colorful curses under his breath before he started pacing the room again. Noemi watched his movements with mild interest. In the beginning she had thought she could help her capricious brother-in-law, but now she knew better. Just like his relationship with Renaldo, Casto himself was highly complicated. Trying to understand him was like trying to understand the weather—there was always room for unpleasant surprises. Suddenly the king stopped dead in his tracks, his head turned toward the door. Only moments later, the divine brothers entered the room. Noemi smiled and went to her husband, who kissed her briefly on the mouth before putting the chain on her. His eyes were full of love.
“My precious jewel, you’re so beautiful, I can’t find the words to describe you.”
“Thank you, my lord. As always, you’re truly gracious.”
Meanwhile, Renaldo had approached Casto like a hunter would a shy deer.
“My own. I know telling you how unbelievably good-looking you are is a waste of time, but I simply have to.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Just cut it out, Barbarian. Put that damn chain on me and then let’s get this over with.”
“Charming as always. But I won’t let you ruin my good mood.”
With that, the Angel of Death fastened the chain on Casto’s collar. Then he turned to his brother, who was grinning broadly.
“Let’s go. As you can hear, my mate can hardly wait.”
SIC WAS standing nervously next to Bantu at the high table in the main hall, his fingers constantly kneading the cloth of his robes. As Noemi had instructed, he had taken the drug. It had made him feel tipsy all day long, and the last five drops had put him into a daze. He was still aware of his surroundings, but in an absent kind of way, as if he wasn’t part of what was happening. His body felt heavy, though not relaxed enough not to be nervous. Sic only hoped to get through the evening as smoothly as possible and before the effect wore off. Bantu nodded to him encouragingly, trying to reassure him. Sic managed a grateful little smile before he started fidgeting again.
Now the big doors swung open and the gods entered. Sic couldn’t help but stare. Canubis and Renaldo were intimidating enough during daily affairs, yet that was nothing compared to the auras of pure dominance they were giving off as they proceeded to the high table. Perhaps it was because he was seeing it for the first time. Perhaps it was because this was the first Spring Ceremony they celebrated as fully fledged gods again. In any case, Sic couldn’t help but kneel down, as did all
the other Emeris and everybody else in the hall. The gods of war had finally come into their right.
When they reached their places, Bantu and Kalad handed the divine brothers each a cup of wine. They prayed for the blessing of Ana-Aruna and Ana-Isara, reciting the old chants with so much vigor it made Sic shudder. After they had all sacrificed some of their blood to the goddesses, the feast started. Until now, Sic had only known the Spring Ceremony from tales. He quickly decided the truth was even more outrageous than the stories. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Aegid and Kalad bent Daran over a chair. The giant entered him smoothly while his brother enjoyed the thief’s oral ministrations. Canubis had Noemi sitting on his lap, his member buried deep inside her. Casto’s upper body was resting on the table, his legs spread wide to accommodate his mate. Later, Sic couldn’t tell what had jolted him out of his drug-induced daze. Perhaps it was the sight of Noemi and Casto, who were usually so proud and independent and who were, at this moment, so completely under their gods’ will. Perhaps it was all the other pairings going on around him, all of which only knew the goal of finding relief. Or it was the intense aura coming from the Wolf of War and the Angel of Death.
Sic suddenly felt oppressed, as if a heavy weight had come to rest on his chest, keeping him from breathing. All his fears bore down on him at once as his mind started working clearly again. The sounds of people having carnal sex all over the hall overwhelmed him, bringing back memories of the terrible agony he had come to connect with intercourse. It was almost as if he was back in the smithy, on that fateful day when Noran had coaxed him for the first time. There had been so much pain in his heart and mind. Cornelia had been right. Some things just could not be forgotten; they were etched into his being, impossible to remove. Giving his consent to attend the feast had been a grave mistake. Even though he feared his own powers, he should have been selfish about protecting himself. Now it was too late, and he was trapped in a nightmare.
Sic was close to a panic attack when the female approached him. She wasn’t bad—young, average looks, with a hungry gaze. It was obvious she had chosen Sic as her next partner, even though the insides of her thighs were already tacky with the essence of her former encounters. Desperately, Sic tried to get out of this situation. There was no way he could have sex with this woman, no way he could have sex with anybody in the hall, no matter if they topped or bottomed. While his mouth opened to tell the woman to go find somebody else, her face suddenly paled. Hastily she withdrew back into the crowd. When Sic turned around to find the reason for her sudden terror, he stood face-to-face with Noran.
Panic rose inside Sic. Dealing with the master smith was not an option in his current state. But before he could retreat, Noran stepped even closer. His mouth was level with Sic’s ear, his voice a harsh whisper.
“Don’t be afraid. I just want to help you. I swear, I’m not going to do anything to you. I won’t even touch you. If you don’t want to participate in the feast, you better come with me right now.”
Sic stared at the orgy that was gaining more momentum by the minute and decided Noran was right. With a short nod, he followed the master smith, who led him into a dark corner with a small table and two chairs. One of the chairs was hidden so deeply in the shadows it could hardly be seen. Noran placed Sic there. He himself sat on the other, more prominent chair, and chased anybody who came too close away with a threatening glare. Shielded like that, Sic started to relax slowly. Since the drug was obviously completely gone from his system, he was able to process his surroundings again. It was so overwhelming, he almost heaved. Noran looked at him sharply.
“Are you feeling unwell? Should I get you something to drink?”
“No, Master, I’m fine. It’s just a little too much.”
“Not master. Noran. Why are you here anyway? I thought I’d die when I saw you at the high table.”
“I didn’t want to disappoint the gods. Lady Noemi gave me something to help me through this, but apparently it didn’t work as planned.”
“This is stupid, Sic. Since you’re here, we have to wait till midnight until we can officially leave. Do you think you can do it?”
Sic stared at Noran, who was so obviously worried for him, and felt a calmness he hadn’t known for almost a year wash over him.
“As long as you stay with me, I can do it.”
Shyly, Noran smiled at his former slave.
“I won’t leave you alone, no matter what.”
KNOWING HE was protected, Sic managed to relax. From the shadows he watched the mercenaries and their slaves indulge each other and wondered about the raw energy building up in the hall. It had to be a feast for the goddesses.
Sic’s gaze wandered back to the high table. Hulda looked as majestic as always while she sat on her husband’s lap, controlling both their movements. The killer always enjoyed physical contact, and the naturalness with which she took what she wanted and gave what her partner needed made Sic believe in beauty again. Even Bantu, who was always so composed and quiet, had chosen a young man who was shivering with pleasure beneath him. When the smith’s gaze reached the desert brothers and their thief, he blushed and looked away hastily. Casto used to call them lecherous, but that was too friendly a term to describe what he had just seen.
And then Casto. Although his friend hated the Spring Ceremony with all his heart, he still indulged in it. The way he and Renaldo were going at each other was like a dance, or, more accurately, like a choreographed fight. A sight of beauty with imminent danger; fascinating, yet deadly. Not for the first time did Sic wonder about the different faces love could show.
He glanced at Noran, who was still discouraging anybody who got too close to their little place in the dark. The master’s back was tense, and Sic could only imagine how hard it had to be for Noran to hold back his own urges only to stay with him. A wave of gratitude washed over Sic as he realized how much he was treasured by the grumpy master smith.
At midnight, Noran nodded toward Sic.
“You can leave now. You’ve fulfilled your duty.”
Sic stared at the hall full of horny people he had to cross in order to get back to his rooms and shook his head.
“I think I’d rather stay a little longer, if it’s all the same to you.”
“But you’re uncomfortable.”
“I am. But there’s no way I can make it through the hall. I’d rather be here with you.”
In a tired gesture, Noran wiped his eyes.
“It’s fine, Sic. I’m going to accompany you. Nobody will dare lay a hand on you.”
Again a wave of warm gratitude washed over Sic. Shy, but determined, he reached for Noran’s hand. When their fingers entwined, a prickling sensation ran through his body. The master smith stared at him blankly for a moment, then jolted back to reality.
“Let’s go.”
IN FRONT of Sic’s chambers, Noran let go of the hand he felt was the most precious thing he’d ever touched. He didn’t know what to say or how to get out of this awkward situation. When he had come to Sic’s aid, it had been on pure instinct. He had never thought it through. Sic looked up at him and smiled. It wasn’t the open, blissful smile he had shared with his fellow smiths in Ummana, or the relaxed one he usually wore around Casto. It was a new kind of smile, one Noran had never seen before on the thin lips. It spoke of all the hardships its owner had endured, but also about the blessings he had received. It was a mature smile full of hope for the future.
“Thank you, Master. Noran. You were my saving grace in there. I’m sorry I ruined the feast for you.”
“You didn’t ruin it for me, honestly. If I had the choice between the Spring Ceremony and spending an evening with you, I’d always choose the second.”
The smile deepened.
“Would you come inside and watch over me till I can sleep? I’m still a little shaken, and your presence is soothing me.”
“Of course, Sic. It is my pleasure.”
Again Sic reached for his former master’s h
and. His voice was nothing but a whisper.
“I think I’m ready to trust you again.”
“Sic?”
“It’ll take time, but I can feel it again. The love I had for you. It still needs to grow, though.”
“Sic.”
Noran sank to his knees, unable to believe what the love of his life had just offered him. After his conversation with Renaldo, he had been depressed, since he had known there was no way Sic would ever give his consent for Noran to woo him. It was an impossible hope he had nourished deep in his heart, another pain that was just punishment for what he had done. And now his precious treasure was offering him so willingly what he had been convinced was forever lost. He pressed kisses on the young man’s open palms.
“I can wait, Sic. I’ll wait as long as it takes. And I’ll do everything. I swear.”
Sic smiled again, still a little insecure and wistful, but for the first time since Ana-Isara’s kiss, he felt he had done the right thing.
“Then please, watch over my sleep.”
With a happy nod, the master smith followed his love into the chamber.
WHEN THE first rays of the morning sun lit the mountains around the Valley, Lord Renaldo, the Angel of Death, picked up his beloved heart, King Castolus of Ummana, and carried him back to their chambers. Casto was far too exhausted to register what was happening to him. He simply enjoyed the feeling of floating in the air and of being utterly safe. In the bedroom, Renaldo put his mate down and kissed him lovingly. Then he got up again to meet his brother. Together, they walked into the Valley.
Under their naked feet, the snow vanished, and the cold was replaced by the familiar, pleasant climate of the Green Lands. A tantalizing scent entered their nostrils. The grass under their feet was soft and warm and the sky a brilliantly clear blue. On a rise they met their mothers. Ana-Isara was as pale and deathly as always; her sister, on the other hand, was flushed and warm. The Green Lands were Ana-Aruna’s realm, so she was the first to speak.
