Braving the Storm

by Xenia Melzer

  “The time has come, sons. Ana-Darasa has chosen her gods.”

  “So you’re leaving us?”

  Canubis’s voice was calm; both he and Renaldo had known this day would come.

  “Our presence is no longer necessary. Even though you haven’t regained your full power yet, you’re still the rightful masters of this world. We would only be a hindrance to your growth.”

  Ana-Isara sounded sad. Tears like silver pearls shone in her eyes. In a soothing gesture, her sister took her hand; she, too, was crying, but the moment the tears left her eyes, they turned into colorful butterflies that flew into the sun like little jewels.

  “We’re very proud of you. As soon as you’ve beaten the Good Mother, you’ll form this world to your liking. But don’t underestimate her. The Good Mother is going to fight you till the last moment, and she doesn’t know any honor.”

  “We are aware of that.”

  Renaldo sounded grimmer than he had intended to. Ana-Aruna caressed his cheek with a sad smile.

  “Our harbinger of death. The power of your fire will consume all doubt.”

  Ana-Isara hugged Canubis.

  “Beware. Your fight is going to last for many years to come. In the end, the threat will come from the sea, this much we can tell. Our leaving means there will be a vacuum. The power’s going to go to you and those who follow you, but she’s going to steal some of it. The Good Mother will gain power as well.”

  “It won’t benefit her. We’re going to destroy her.”

  Canubis spoke with the calm determination of a true leader. His brother nodded in agreement.

  “Are we going to meet you again?”

  The sisters shared a look. Ana-Isara answered, her voice full of regret.

  “When time ends and everything returns to the beginning, then we’ll be reunited. But it’s going to be long until then. Not even we can see the end.”

  The brothers nodded. The thought of living for so long was no longer disturbing, now that they were gods again. Time, which had been dragging on them heavily now and again, had lost its power. They were not only the masters of this world, they were eternal.

  “Take good care of the light. He’s going to bring you the worthy servants.”

  Canubis furrowed his brows. Some of the suspicions he’d been having seemed to prove true.

  “Sic?”

  The Mothers nodded.

  “Luksari. We doubt there will ever be somebody like him again. He’s precious in more than one respect.”

  One last time the Mothers embraced their sons; then the gods of war turned away, ready to face their fate. Ana-Isara’s voice echoed in their ears when they returned to the Valley.

  “Those serving you will still be welcome in the Green Lands. The gate won’t be closed.”

  With those comforting words in their ears, the Wolf of War and the Angel of Death returned to their home.

  NEW BEGINNINGS

  1. MARKET DAY

  “I CAN’T believe it! How can you be so unbelievably stubborn?”

  “You dare call me stubborn? Of all people?”

  “The way you’re behaving, stubborn is a compliment, Barbarian!”

  “Watch it, Casto! I’m starting to lose my patience here.”

  Aegid and Kalad stopped dead in their tracks. The fight they were witnessing just now was growing more heated by the minute. A wise man kept his distance when Lord Renaldo, the feared Angel of Death, got into an argument with his irascible heart, King Castolus of Ummana. Although the two had been married for more than a year now, their fights had not eased. Sometimes Aegid got the impression they were getting worse. This was not a problem per se, since the mercenaries loved a good show as much as anybody else. No, the real crux was that Casto still hadn’t managed to control the fire inside him. Usually Renaldo did that for him, but when they were enraged like now, chances were high that Casto would inflame something. Kalad shook his head.

  “Sounds pretty serious. Let’s return at a later time.”

  He was about to turn around when Aegid stopped him.

  “Daran is somewhere close. We can’t leave him alone.”

  A determined streak hardened his quirky brother’s lips. When it was about Daran, Kalad was willing to do anything. They had come to the stables to watch their beloved thief during his riding lesson. Now that spring was slowly chasing the winter out of the Valley, the children of the desert could dare to venture outside again. But it seemed as if the lesson hadn’t even started yet. Hell-bent on protecting their most precious possession, the desert brothers got closer to the source of all the excitement.

  Renaldo and Casto were standing face-to-face, their handsome features full of rage. The face of the Angel of Death was frozen into its usual immobile mask, in which only the glaring eyes revealed his emotions, while Casto’s cheeks were tinged by a soft red that could have made him appear vulnerable were it not for the tense jaw muscles and the threatening black of his eyes. As pleasing to the eye as both men were, there was no doubt that this beauty was merely a thin veil under which the untamed passion could barely be hidden. Aegid thought it was beyond ironic how contradictory the inside and outside of his god and his heart were. It was as if light and darkness had been unified in these two.

  Meanwhile Kalad had spotted Daran, who was huddled in a corner, his expressive brown eyes big with horror. The wall behind him was stained with a soot mark, which was pretty fresh by the looks of it. While Aegid hugged the thief protectively, his brother hissed at the squabblers.

  “Damn it, you two! Can’t you control yourselves? You’ve frightened Daran!”

  Renaldo and Casto turned around to face Kalad. For a moment, embarrassed silence ruled. Obviously they had forgotten everything around them.

  Casto was the first to regain his speech. “I’m sorry, Daran. I neither wanted to hurt nor frighten you. It’s all the fault of the Barbarian.”

  “My fault? Daran, you’ve been here all the time! I’m sure you can confirm that this is all Casto’s doing!”

  Whimpering, Daran buried his face in Aegid’s broad chest. He hated being part of this skirmish. His voice was barely audible. “I’m truly sorry, Master, but I was too scared to remember one word you said.”

  “Then I’m going to refresh your memory! This incautious idiot”—Renaldo stabbed his index finger threateningly in Casto’s direction—“is seriously planning to go to the market in Kwarl all on his own.”

  “I’ve explained it to you countless times, Barbarian, it’s perfectly safe. It’s the big spring market next week. I want to sell some of our horses and see whether I can find a good stallion for my breeding program. What in the Mothers’ names could happen?”

  “You still need to ask? You’re not going—that’s my final word!”

  A wave of heat made Kalad’s braids fly, but before Casto was able to snap at his mate, the desert warrior intervened.

  “That’s why you’re fighting? Because Casto wishes to visit the market?”

  “It seems you’re not aware of the gravity of the situation, Kalad.” Renaldo’s voice was pointed. It was obvious that he was miffed.

  “Damn, Renaldo. He’s not planning to travel to the end of the world. And Lys is surely with him, isn’t he?”

  “I can only repeat what I said earlier. Casto won’t go.”

  “As if I’ll let you hold me back! I’m not your slave! I’m a free man!”

  Fast as an attacking snake, the Angel of Death turned around. His eyes were two small slits, his lips pressed tightly together.

  “You’re my mate, which makes you a lot more than just my possession. I’m your lord and god, and if you don’t stop challenging me right now, I’ll punish you accordingly, slave.”

  Even Kalad reared back a little, not ashamed by his accelerated heartbeat. When in this mood, Renaldo was beyond terrifying, something that didn’t seem to faze his beloved mate in the least.

  “Don’t you dare think I’d be impressed by this, my god. If I want
to go, I’ll go.”

  “Damn it, Casto.”

  Renaldo grabbed the young man’s wrist in a crushing grip, but as always, Casto refused to show any signs of pain. With a bland expression, he stared into Renaldo’s gray eyes until he let go of him again.

  His arm slung around Daran, Aegid approached the two squabblers.

  “Why don’t you escort Casto, my lord?”

  “I don’t have the time.”

  Aegid sighed. This short sentence was probably the core of the problem. Even though they had decided to stay in the Valley this summer, there were still countless tasks to fulfill. This meant Renaldo didn’t have the time to indulge his capricious husband as they both might wish, which resulted in Casto getting bored. When the King of Ummana wasn’t occupied, he tended to find things to do—things the Angel of Death rarely agreed with, resulting in situations like this one. And such was his bad luck to be dragged right into it.

  “What about we go with him? Would that put your mind at ease?”

  The Angel of Death thought about it.

  “A little. So far you’ve never disappointed me. I’m going to think about it.”

  “Splendid. Perhaps we can focus on the really important things now.” Kalad grinned at Casto, glad the thunderstorm had been put off for the time being. “We want to see what Daran has learned.”

  After a last, calculating stare at his mate, Casto nodded in agreement. Again Aegid found himself fascinated by how easily the king was able to control his emotions. No matter how heartfelt his tantrums were, Casto never lost sight of the big picture. Without a doubt, he had already displayed all possible variants of this argument in a corner of his complicated mind and decided to hold the matter in abeyance. Which didn’t mean he would forget even the smallest detail. It was only a short reprieve before he resumed the battle at a later, more convenient time. Renaldo, too, seemed to have decided to leave the matter alone. He even pressed a reconciliatory kiss on Casto’s forehead, a gesture that made the young man roll his eyes derisively.

  ON HIS way back to the training hall, the Angel of Death met Hulda, dressed in black leather, sauntering toward him with a bow slung over her shoulder. As always, the killer was breathtaking: her long blonde hair was braided, the lavender eyes glinted mockingly in her regal face, and the leather clothing accentuated her alluring curves. Although Renaldo loved only Casto, he felt a throbbing in his loins when he looked at Hulda. There was no man in the world who remained unperturbed by her enchanting sensuality, a fact she was aware of only too well and that she often used to her advantage. Her full lips parted into a beaming smile.

  “What is it, Renaldo? Are you remembering old times?”

  The Angel of Death smiled back a little sourly. Both he and Canubis had shared the mother superior’s bed on a regular basis before she had finally chosen Wolfstan. What had always fascinated Renaldo most was the naturalness with which the killer enjoyed physical intimacy. Hulda never tried to please in bed. She knew what she wanted, took it without regard for anything else, and expected her partners to do the same. She knew neither regret nor false morals. Everything both parties agreed on was allowed, and at the end of the night, there was no room for guilt. The Mother Superior of the Sisters of the Night was a remarkable woman in more than one respect.

  “Maybe. We had some intense fun, didn’t we?”

  Her soft fingers caressed his cheek slightly.

  “Indeed we did. Now tell me, what have you been fighting about, you and your precious heart?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Hulda only cocked an eyebrow.

  “Fine. He was stubborn and I lost my temper.”

  “How can that be? I mean, this has never happened before! You’re a fine example of self-restraint and Casto always listens to reason. You both must have experienced a rather black day.”

  “Cut it out, Hulda. I’m perfectly able to make fun of me by myself.”

  “But not even half as effectively as I can do it. Admit it!”

  “I told you to stop. Just help me.”

  The killer looked up at him in a calculated display of mock innocence.

  “How should I help you? He’s your mate. And I don’t even know what this is all about.”

  “Casto wants to visit the market in Kwarl. Since we’re staying in the Valley this summer, he’s eager to do some breeding work.”

  “I fail to see the problem.”

  “I can’t go with him.”

  Hulda sighed. Now she knew where the bone was buried.

  “Let me guess, you forbade him to go and he lost it.”

  Renaldo’s silence was answer enough.

  “Why are you doing this, Renaldo? Casto is a grown man, a warrior of great ability who, before he met you, was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Kwarl is only a two-day ride from the Valley. Why shouldn’t he go?”

  “Because something could happen to him. And I wouldn’t be there to protect him. Hulda, I’ve almost lost him once, and through my own hand, to top it off. I simply can’t stand it when he’s not close by.”

  The killer slung an arm around her god, her voice very soft. She knew what she had to say wouldn’t please Renaldo—especially since he had already realized the stupidity of his action himself.

  “You have to stop caging him. Since the Spring Ceremony, you’ve been acting like a hen with only one chick. Casto has been remarkably patient until now, but if you don’t pull your act together soon, it’s only a matter of time until he gets on Lys’s back and leaves you out of principle.”

  The Angel of Death tensed. He didn’t like Hulda’s words in the least.

  “You always want him to trust you, to submit to you completely. But when it’s your turn to do the same, you chicken out. I know how hard it is for you to relinquish control, but if you don’t learn to grant your heart some small freedom soon, you’ll be smothering him.”

  “So you think I should let him go?”

  “It’s Kwarl. And Lys will be with him. What in the Mothers’ names could happen?”

  Renaldo sighed.

  “I don’t want to start thinking about it. But you’re right, I’ve got to stop patronizing him. Thanks for your counsel.”

  “As always, it was my pleasure, my god.” Condescendingly, Hulda patted Renaldo’s cheek. “And now excuse me. The stags won’t wait.”

  For a moment, the Angel of Death allowed himself the pleasure of ogling his sister-in-arms’s swinging hips; then he returned to his tasks. Although he knew how right the killer was about his heart, he could feel everything inside him rebelling against her words. The mere idea of allowing Casto to leave the Valley on his own made his fire blaze. His heart was his, and his alone. Casto had no right to disobey or even leave him. Renaldo suspected his overbearing possessiveness was a result of the Mothers leaving them. Now he and Canubis were the masters of this world, at least unofficially. The Angel of Death had always wondered what it would feel like to get his full power back, but he would have never dreamed it could be such a painful process. His fire had always been a burden, elevating him above everybody else, just like his beauty did. After he had acknowledged Casto as his heart, he thought he would be able to control the lethal heat inside him, but now he knew it was impossible. The fire wasn’t just a part of him; it was his very nature, something he would never be able to resist. And like the flames, which consumed everything in their way to live on, he needed Casto to keep going. Possessing the king was an instinct that ensured his survival. At the same time, Renaldo was painfully aware that this was a sure way to grow apart from—and ultimately lose—his alluring mate. Hulda was right. Casto had been unaccustomedly patient with his husband, but after today’s argument, his heart would definitely cease being so understanding. It was time to change.

  “DARAN! DAMN, you’re dreaming with your eyes open!”

  Kalad’s angry voice pried the thief from his musings. After he had been the involuntary witness of the argument between Lord Renaldo and his
heart, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on his riding lesson. It had been so bad that Casto had ended the lesson earlier than planned. Aegid and Kalad had been very understanding and had brought Daran back to their chambers. But the loving care of the desert brothers, which usually calmed him down, couldn’t reach him today. If Daran was honest, it hadn’t been the fight that had left him so confused, but the mention of Kwarl, the city of his birth. During the five years he had been serving his masters, he had never wasted a single thought on the place, since he had realized quite soon that the desert brothers were his true home. In addition, his memories of the town were not only happy ones. His life there had been dangerous and full of hardships, and he had often felt alone. But when Renaldo had spoken the name of the town, the memories had attacked him like a pack of hungry wolves, and now his thoughts were moving in circles. He was so fixated, he didn’t even register when he tried to pour the entire contents of the wine jug into Kalad’s cup. Guiltily he stared at his master’s ruined clothes.

  “I’m so sorry, Master! Please forgive me!”

  He wanted to hurry and get a new tunic as well as a rag, but Kalad stopped him with a determined stare.

  “Daran, look at me! What the heck is wrong with you?”

  Before the thief could answer, Aegid placed his right hand on his shoulder.

  “In case you’re still upset about before, don’t fret. I think Casto was rather glad to cancel the lesson.”

  Embarrassed, Daran stared at the ground.

  “That’s not it, Master. I just can’t stop thinking about Kwarl.”

  Frowning, Aegid loosened his grip.

  “What about Kwarl?”

  Daran lowered his head in silence. In the hush, Aegid slapped his forehead.

  “Damn it, Daran. I’m sorry! I’ve completely forgotten that Kwarl is your home.”

  “The Valley is my home. Kwarl is just the place I was born.”

  Kalad embraced the thief.

  “Would you prefer to stay here when we accompany Casto?”