by Xenia Melzer
When they reached the Valley, Casto went into the stables with Lys without sparing his husband or his companions another glance. Canubis, who had wanted to welcome them, lifted a brow but refrained from any comment.
4. MATURITY
“YOU’VE BEEN sleeping at Lys’s place for a week now. Don’t you think it’s time to forgive my brother?”
Mildly, Canubis watched as his brother-in-law put a saddle on a promising dun mare. The young man’s movements were graceful as ever, even though his face was frozen in an angry mask.
“I wouldn’t know why I should do that.”
Canubis sighed. As expected, Casto wasn’t going to make this easy.
“You know he did it because he loves you so much, don’t you?”
Casto spun around quickly, his eyes black with fury. “I can do without this so-called love!”
His voice shook, indicating how deeply he was moved.
“I hate it when he uses his love as an excuse to imprison me. I want him to trust and respect me. I’m a king and his mate, not a cheap toy he can use as he deems fit.”
“You are aware that he could force you anytime, and that he isn’t doing it because of this love you abhor so much?”
“What good does this love do me if it takes away the air I need to breathe?”
All anger had gone from Casto’s voice. Now he sounded desperate and terribly lonely. Canubis dared to put an arm on the king’s shoulder. He knew this loneliness well, since it was the same that had tortured his brother from the day they had been born.
“I know it’s hard for you. And I’m not saying he’s right. But I’m asking you to understand him. My brother has always been alone. People only ever see his beauty and are blinded by it. Or they grow stiff in fear of his fire. He’s gotten used to being alone, to always sticking out. Not even the Emeris, not even Hulda, have managed to truly know him. You’re the first who’s completely oblivious to his beauty, the first who didn’t even notice Renaldo is wearing a mask, because you looked straight through it. And even though you know my brother like nobody else does, you’re not afraid of him. Not even his fire frightens you, although this power is so terrible. Renaldo is deeply scared of losing his most precious treasure, and in his panic, he sometimes does things that aren’t right. He shouldn’t have whipped you and, believe me, he regrets it with all his heart. But for him, it was proof that you’re still there, that you’re still his, that he hasn’t lost you. He’s become so insecure, my proud brother, and it’s all because of you, Casto.”
The beautiful blue eyes of the king had widened during Canubis’s speech.
“But I am his. I can’t get away from him. I mean, he’s my god. Why can’t he be content with that?”
“Because he doesn’t want to force you. I know it sounds like mockery given what he’s done, but it’s a fact. He wants you to stay with him because of love, not because it’s his will. Until today, he hasn’t gotten over the fact that you were his slave in the beginning.”
Casto snorted derisively. “Maybe in his dreams. I only stayed with him because the Valley offered protection from my persecutors. I could have easily left him during the first winter.”
Canubis grinned. “I know. But he seems to have forgotten. Perhaps you should remind him.”
The king’s eyes narrowed. “For somebody who always acts so aloof and dismissive, you’re surprisingly empathic and shrewd, my lord.”
Canubis laughed out loud, then put a finger on his lips. “Don’t tell anybody. Let this be our little secret.”
Against his will, Casto had to smile. He liked his dominant brother-in-law a lot, more than he was willing to admit. He also felt deep respect for him. Canubis was the undisputed master of the Valley, and he wore his authority like an invisible cloak.
“I’m going to talk to the Barbarian. It’s getting tiresome to sleep in the straw every night.”
True relief brightened the Wolf of War’s eyes. He had anticipated a lot more obstinacy from Casto and was glad the problem had been solved so easily.
RENALDO LOOKED up in surprise when Casto entered their chambers that evening. He hadn’t thought he’d see his capricious husband anytime soon. Considering what he had done, he wasn’t even sure if the king would ever return to him. The Angel of Death was ashamed for having beaten his heart, but on that evening, he hadn’t been able to think clearly. The fear of losing his mate had driven him as much as the anger over how thoughtlessly Casto had put himself into danger. Seen matter-of-factly, he had only done what was expected of him: he had acted like a leader. But when his heart was concerned, Renaldo couldn’t think clearly anymore. The beast inside him, this wild, untamed part of his divine personality that was also the source of his fire, wanted to monopolize Casto completely, without regard for his personal wishes. The beast was insatiable and never content. Renaldo hated this part of himself, but he also knew there was no way to bring the monster to heel. As a form of punishment, he had forced himself to stay away from Casto until he decided to come back on his own. It had been the most terrible week in his life. And now his heart was here, looking at him with his mesmerizing blue eyes, mocking pity written all over his face.
“You look ghastly, Barbarian.”
Renaldo smiled weakly. “That’s probably because I haven’t slept much the past few days. I’m missing you.”
A sigh escaped from the full, sensual lips. “I’ve missed you too.”
“I’m truly sorry for whipping you. I lost control.”
A lazy, seductive smile was the answer. Casto’s voice was now a beguiling purr.
“You know how much I like it when you lose control—under different circumstances.”
When Renaldo’s gray eyes lit up in plain hunger, Casto turned serious again.
“If you hurt me against my will one more time, I swear you’re going to regret it to the day you take your last breath.”
Renaldo took his stunning, capricious, and yet generous mate’s hands in his own and kissed the palms. “I thank you, Casto. I promise, this won’t happen again. I’m so sorry.”
“I hope so. And now,”—the king snuggled up to his lover—“it would be nice if you started kissing me. I want to make up with you.”
Full of relief, Renaldo pulled Casto closer and kissed the young man deeply. He knew there was still an uncomfortable discussion about trust and his lack of it in store for him, but at the moment, the only thing that counted was that Casto had forgiven him. The beast, which had stirred full of longing when the king entered the room, wanted to burst its bounds, but this time Renaldo managed to keep it under control. There was no way he would destroy the fragile peace they had just established. And so he concentrated on seducing his mate with all his skill.
WHILE CASTO was busy playing dominance games with his god, Sic had to face an entirely different problem. Now that he and Noran had finally reached a mutual understanding, he felt a certain urge to consummate their union. Since they both had taken such a huge detour, he thought he was entitled to be eager. In addition, concentrating on his relationship with the master smith kept him from thinking too much about what had happened in Kwarl. Yet no matter how eagerly he wished for them to become intimate, there was still the problem of his being a virgin again after Ana-Isara’s kiss, and the bad experiences he had endured so far still surfaced now and then. Asking Noran was out of the question; the master smith got worked up whenever Sic so much as hinted at some nightly activities that required them to be naked. No, if he wanted to make the next step, he had to take matters in hand. After a day of contemplation, Sic ruled out every possible advisor except for one. Casto was out of the question; he hated Noran with all his heart. Talking to Hulda or Noemi was simply too embarrassing, and requesting the help of Aegid and Kalad…. Sic shuddered just thinking about the saucy smiles on their lips and the mocking glint in their eyes. Which only left Daran. He was the most logical choice, since he knew a lot about intercourse and was understanding enough for Sic to trust him. The onl
y problem was getting hold of the thief without his masters noticing.
The first three days after they returned to the Valley, the desert brothers had locked Daran into their chambers to make sure he couldn’t slip through their fingers once more. When he had finally been allowed to go out again, they stuck to him like glue, following him everywhere. Fortunately they were training the new recruits for the Pack at the moment, and so Daran was all by himself. Sic seized this rare chance.
He met the thief at the chambers of his masters, where he had just had a bath, judging from his dripping-wet hair. Daran welcomed Sic most politely and asked him in. There the two of them then stood frozen in awkward silence. Nervously, Sic tried to start the conversation.
“So, how are you feeling? Is everything all right?”
Daran winced. “I’m fine except for being sore all the time. They’re overdoing it at the moment. I can only hope they’ll calm down sometime soon.”
“That’s good.”
Another gap in the conversation threatened to turn into absolute silence. This time, Daran was the first to speak.
“So, what can I do for you, Lord Sic? You know you can ask anything of me.”
Sic smiled weakly and decided to tackle the problem head-on.
“It’s a delicate topic. First of all, I want to ask you not to tell your masters about it. Unless they ask you directly. I know you can’t keep anything from them. Do you think you could do that?”
Daran was getting curious now. “Sure. Just ask away.”
Sic hesitated one more moment. Then he spoke so fast, Daran had problems understanding him.
“Can you teach me how to have fun in bed?”
Sic felt crimson invading his cheeks. Daran was staring at him as if he was a creature from another dimension. When he caught himself again, he sounded very composed.
“Am I right in assuming that you’re planning to be intimate with Lord Noran?”
“Yes. If I want to get over my trauma, I have to take the next step. And this time, I want to be prepared. I’ve seen how you enjoy sex, and to be frank, I envy you. Can you please help me?”
Daran’s features lit up. “It would be my pleasure, Lord Sic. Where do you want to start?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. Consider me an absolute beginner. All I’ve known so far is being forced when I was at the receiving end and embarrassment when I was the active part.”
“Lord Noran will be the active one, won’t he?”
“Yes.”
Daran took Sic’s hand, a reassuring smile on his lips.
“Then we start with the most difficult part. Finding out what gets you off.”
“I DON’T understand, Sic. How can you not know what you did to call Daran back? Kalad and Aegid have already mastered their talent, while you’re not even able to recall exactly what happened.”
Canubis’s voice was sharp; he was frustrated that a talent as vital as Sic’s was beyond his control. Shaken by the rebuke in his god’s voice, the smith stared at his hands. The better part of a week had passed since they had returned home, and the things that had happened in Kwarl were weighing on his mind. Kalad and Aegid had embraced their deadly new asset with the excitement of children who’d been given a new toy. To show off, they had called the sand in front of an astonished audience who had the disputable pleasure of witnessing how a pig’s carcass was ground into oblivion. In many ways, Sic was envious of the easygoing attitude of the desert brothers. For them, power was something so natural, they took it in stride. For him it was still terrifying, which was probably the reason why he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—remember what he had done to get Daran back. His recollection of the feeling when the light emanating from his body had consumed the shadows was still vivid, but how he had managed to see them in the first place remained a mystery to him. The Luksari had taken that knowledge with him when he went back into the depths of Sic’s soul. All he had to show his displeased god was his inaptitude to be an Emeris.
“I’m truly sorry, my lord. I’m trying hard to remember and to understand my talent, but the harder I try, the more blurred it all gets.”
Noran put his arm protectively around Sic’s shoulders. Even though they hadn’t become physical yet—much to the young smith’s dismay—the intimacy between them was growing every day.
“Sic is doing his best. But don’t forget, he’s become an Emeris not even a year ago. Compared to him, Aegid and Kalad are ancient. Of course it’s easier for them to deal with their talent.”
“Although I find your comment regarding our age somewhat diminishing, I have to agree with you.”
Kalad grinned broadly. He enjoyed being able to tease Noran again. During the time after Arja’s death, the bulky smith would have reacted to such banter with fury, but now he reciprocated his brother-in-arms’s smile with the same mocking openness he had shown at the beginning of their friendship. Canubis ignored this attempt to lighten the mood.
“I don’t know if you’ve realized it yet, but this is not about Sic’s personal well-being.” The Wolf of War shot acidic glances around. “He’s the one who can turn ordinary humans into Echend’dim—immortal warriors we’re going to need for our battle against the Good Mother. I can’t afford to keep on betting on luck and chance while Sic is waiting for an epiphany.”
For a moment, nobody said a word. The prophecies were clear about the importance of the Echend’dim, the eternal guard that Canubis and Renaldo needed to gain their victory, but evasive when it came to explaining how those warriors would come into being. Now that they knew that an Echend’dim had to die first and then be called back by Sic, things were clearer, though not more pleasant.
Noran opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but Sic was faster. His voice was hushed, his tone betraying how unhappy he was.
“Lord Canubis is right. My incompetence is endangering us all. I promise, I’ll work even harder and will only stop when I’m able to control my gift.”
“That’s quite noble of you, Sic, but also kind of unnecessary.”
Hulda’s voice was calm, her lavender-colored eyes focused on Canubis in a condescending manner. The warrior stared back at the mother superior without hiding his irritation, angry that even she seemed to fail to recognize the seriousness of the situation. Without minding the silent threat coming from her leader, Hulda spoke on.
“Daran has been able to describe the circumstances of his resurrection in vivid detail. He said it was Sic’s voice that woke him, and then he followed his light back into life. According to Noemi, Sic’s true shape in the world between is pure light. For the Luksari, this seems to be their natural form. I doubt that he’s currently able to influence his appearance actively. Considering this, I’d say Daran’s rescue was indeed a happy coincidence initiated by the Mothers. After all, the thief is Aegid’s and Kalad’s reward for their loyalty. So, if we assume that calling the dead back is part of Sic’s natural abilities, then this means his talent as an Emeris has still to manifest itself. And I’m almost sure this will have something to do with his ability to recognize a future Echend’dim. Enabling them to return from the world between is Sic’s nature and has nothing to do with his talent.”
Hulda’s words were followed by a prolonged silence. When Renaldo finally spoke, he didn’t try to hide his awe.
“It sounds perfectly logical when you put it like that. And we do know that the Luksari have evolved from pure magic. But because they’re so unbelievably rare, we know practically nothing about their powers. Perhaps they all have this ability.”
Canubis sighed. “It makes sense. But it doesn’t please me, because the problem remains the same. How will we build our army when the selection of the warriors is left to chance? I don’t think it’s a good idea to kill all the members of our Pack in the vague hope Sic will be able to resurrect some of them.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Aegid’s voice was soft. “First, you’re implying our warriors are worthless as long as they’re mortal, and that’s a
mistake. They are the best there are and until now, none of them have let us down. And I doubt the final battle against the Good Mother will be anytime soon. Of course, we can’t afford to slack off, but I’m sure we have more time than you think.”
The amber eyes of the Wolf of War skimmed over his assembled counselors and stopped at Sic. Now that the Mothers had left Ana-Darasa, he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders even more. Hulda’s and Aegid’s words were wise, but still they did not manage to put him at ease. Ever since he and Renaldo had become full-fledged gods again, he could feel the threat coming from the Good Mother more intensely. Her presence on Ana-Darasa was like a malicious maelstrom that inexorably pulled all order into chaos. The longer he allowed her to feed on the power that had been set free by the departure of Ana-Isara and Ana-Aruna, the more difficult it would be to destroy her. But if he acted too rashly, he would endanger them all. Simply put, he couldn’t allow himself to make the slightest mistake.
In his apprehension, he had been unjust to one of his Emeris. Even worse, he had pressured a Luksari. Canubis had only begun to realize how important Sic really was, and just the thought of what the young man had endured in the Valley until now made the Wolf of War fear he could still lose him. Instinctively he knew that without Sic, the battle was lost before it had even started.
“I’m sorry, Sic. I wasn’t fair to you. Please forgive me.”
Shyly, the smith looked up at him, his face a mirror of his worries.
“You don’t have to apologize to me, Master. You’re my god, and it’s my duty to serve you well. I’m really sorry that I’m unable to ease your mind.”
