by Xenia Melzer
“If you have time to dally with slave girls, you better hurry back to our chambers.”
Laughing, the slave took the lord’s hand and kissed it. He wasn’t impressed by the stern words.
“Whenever I go there, you take me until I’m completely exhausted. As much as I love our trysts, I do have some responsibilities besides you, so it’s more than enough when I go back in the evening.”
“Come on, we’ll behave! Besides, we have a wedding to plan, and we can’t do that without you.”
The smaller warrior slung his arms around the slave’s hips, caressing him between the legs. Sira’s presence didn’t faze him at all; he was too engrossed in touching his slave. The young man retreated with a gleam in his eyes that betrayed the resistance he was faking.
“I understand. Let me get Rajan back, and then I’m yours all day.”
“A tempting offer.” The bigger warrior stepped back, dragging the smaller one with him. “Come on, Kalad. The sooner you let Daran go, the sooner we can indulge ourselves.”
Kalad let go of Daran. Plain hunger was written all over his face. While he reached for the horse’s bridle, Daran addressed Sira once more.
“If I were you, I’d apologize to Lord Sic and accept the punishment. Knowing him, whatever verdict he speaks is probably still too lenient, given what you’ve done. Please excuse me now. As you can see, I’ve got my own problems to deal with.”
Kalad snorted. “Don’t act all innocent here! I wonder what this slave would think about you if she could see your shameless behavior in bed.”
Heat flushed Daran’s cheeks and made him even more attractive.
“And who made me so shameless? I wasn’t born like that. There were two smooth desert warriors who turned me into someone who can outdo even the most experienced courtesan.”
The two warriors took Daran in their arms, their faces suddenly serious.
“You do know you’re our most precious treasure, don’t you? We won’t allow anybody to talk about you like that, not even yourself.”
Daran patted the warriors’ arms in a soothing manner.
“I know. It sounded worse than I intended. Let’s go before one of us starts crying.”
Grinning, the warriors slung their arms around Daran’s hips and led him away, Rajan trailing behind them like a lost puppy.
“WHAT HAVE you done now?”
Gweris’s dry voice pried Sira from her trance. Guiltily, she turned to the older woman, whose eyes showed a gentleness Sira hadn’t anticipated.
“I haven’t done anything. At least, I don’t think so. I just wanted to talk to that slave, but when his masters appeared, he was distracted.”
A grin flashed over Gweris’s lips.
“That’s normal—they can’t get enough of Daran. And he’s not a slave, by the way. He’s Lord Daran, the first Echend’dim, and soon he’ll also be the husband of the Lords Aegid and Kalad.”
Sira’s eyes widened in shock. So she had made a mistake again.
“I asked him if he was a slave and he said yes! Why did he lie to me?”
Gweris sighed. How should she explain a relationship as complicated as Daran’s with the desert warriors to somebody who rejected the mere idea of slavery out of habit?
“He didn’t lie to you. Not really. When he came to the Valley, he was indeed their slave. They had acquired him in Kwarl. As it turned out, he wasn’t the only one who got enslaved back then. These three are so close, it doesn’t matter if the chains they’re bound with are visible or not.”
Even though Sira had thought Daran to be handsome, she suddenly felt repelled by him.
“How can anybody fall in love with the person who enslaved them?”
Gweris patted Sira’s shoulder.
“You’d be surprised. Now tell me, why are you out here, unscathed, when Lord Renaldo made it clear that he wanted your blood?”
Sira hung her head.
“I have till tomorrow. I’ve to decide whether I want to serve Lord Sic or go back to my former owner. Which I won’t. Never. So I guess I have to bear whatever is coming.”
“Lord Sic is a good man. He won’t hurt you more than absolutely necessary. He doesn’t take pleasure from cruelty.”
“I know. I still don’t like it. If you would leave me alone now? I have a lot to think about.”
With another deep sigh, Gweris complied. She could relate to Sira’s feelings, although she wasn’t able to completely understand them. Gweris was the kind of person who always made the best out of a situation. Sira’s focus on how miserable she was annoyed the older slave, especially since an owner like Sic made it easy for any slave to have a good life. Apparently there was no helping some people.
SIC STARED at the crouching figure of Sira with a certain reluctance and a feeling of fatalism. He had spent a long, unpleasant night learning from Noran how to wield a whip to cause suitable pain without inflicting too much damage. Since he couldn’t ask Noemi to heal Sira after the punishment—Renaldo had been crystal clear about that—he would try to keep the worst from her. Of course, Noran didn’t understand at all. He even offered to do the punishing himself, but Sic declined. This was his problem. He had chosen Sira and neglected his duties as her owner. As much as he wished he could turn his back on the situation and leave it all to Noran, he knew he had to face it. In the back of his mind, Sic was already toying with an idea to solve the whole slave-keeping conundrum, but before he could exercise it, he had to get through the punishing first.
“So you’ve made up your mind?”
“Yes, Master. I wish to remain in your service, and I apologize for my behavior.”
Sic sighed. Sira sounded surprisingly sincere, but since she had no real choice, it was not exactly a revelation.
“I accept your apology. I do have to punish you, though. Get up, undress, and put your hands against the wall.”
Sira did as she was told. When she turned around, she caught a glimpse of Sic’s face. Her master was absolutely miserable, and for the first time in her life, Sira understood what it meant to hurt somebody. Sic clearly hated what he was about to do. Sira shuddered. She had forced his hand, had made him do something that went against his very nature. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“I’m so sorry.”
A weak smile appeared on Sic’s lips.
“Me too. Let’s get this over with.”
3. WEDDING PLANS
“CASTO, SIC, I need your help.”
Daran was sitting with the other two men on the south wall of the stables, enjoying the relative heat of the midday sun. The first snow was covering the Valley two ells high, and the cold air hurt in the lungs. Winter had successfully claimed the North again.
“Are you talking about the wedding?”
Casto shifted his weight slightly to stay in the middle of the sun’s rays. As always when the cold season began, he was in a foul mood. By now Daran had learned to ignore Casto’s temper and just act as if nothing were amiss.
“What else should I be talking about? It’s in four weeks, and Aegid and Kalad are driving me nuts.”
“Get used to it. I wanted to throttle Renaldo during the last few weeks before we married. Sometimes I wonder if that wouldn’t have been for the better.”
The speculative tone made Daran shiver. He never knew when Casto was serious and when he was just joking. Sic came to the rescue.
“It’s fine, Daran. You can always put it down to nerves. They are simply thrilled to make your relationship official. As for you, Casto, stop adding to Daran’s tension. You enjoyed your wedding, I know it.”
“The wedding, yes. We were talking about the time before. And that, I hated. It was plain horrible.”
Sic punched Casto playfully on his upper arm, then focused on Daran again.
“What do you need from us? Your wedding jewelry is almost finished, so what else can I do for you?”
“It’s about my present for Aegid and Kalad. I don’t have any money, but I don’t wan
t to stand in front of them empty-handed.”
“Oh no!” Sic groaned, clapping his hands over his head.
“I’m not going to make another branding iron. It was bad enough doing it for Casto. What is it with you guys, that you always resort to drastic measures?”
Casto laughed, not entirely amused.
“It’s our nature. Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to bear our lovers.”
“Whoever said I wanted a branding iron? I’m not completely insane.”
“Hey, that hurt! I’m not insane either. Just firm in my convictions.”
“Stop it, you two! As for you, Casto, I think we can all agree that your stubbornness is close enough to insanity to make them indistinguishable. Daran, if you don’t want an iron, how can we help you?”
Daran fidgeted a little, clearly embarrassed by his request.
“I don’t want a branding, I want a tattoo. I already have a vague idea about the design, but I need your help to make it look good. Please?”
Sic patted Daran encouragingly. “No problem, I’m glad to help you. A tattoo is definitely better than a branding iron. Is Frankus going to do it?”
Daran nodded, oozing relief. “Yes, I already talked to him. I wasn’t sure if it would even work, because of the whole Echend’dim thing, but apparently, tattoos are possible. Frankus has done one for Wolfstan when he married Hulda. He said he could do a design for me as well, but after we discussed it in detail, we agreed it would be better if you did it. Our connection is deeper.”
Silence followed those words. Neither Sic nor Daran were keen on talking about the consequences of what had happened in Kwarl. It had been too disturbing. The one thing they couldn’t deny was the link they shared now. It was not conscious, but on a feral level, they were able to feel each other. It was the same with Lukan, who tried to ignore it as well. Soon they would have to talk it out, since it was significant, but none of them was yet ready to face those depths. Sensing that the situation was becoming awkward, Casto barged in.
“If you have the design and the tattooist covered, what do you need me for?”
“You’re going to be my cover. Getting the tattoo will take three to four days. Since it’s meant as a surprise, I’ll get it right before the wedding.”
Casto’s brows furrowed. It wasn’t clear whether he was amused or annoyed.
“You need me to deceive them, don’t you?”
“I bow to your wisdom, Your Majesty.”
Casto shot Daran a nasty look that warned him not to take this joke further. Even though he appeared unwilling, he was already pondering the problem. Casto had never had friends before. The experience was new and exciting for him, although he would never admit it openly. Helping Daran just because he liked him, and not for some twisted, hidden agenda, made Casto happy.
“I’ll come up with something. They’re not going to like it, though.”
Daran sighed. “I know. But the outcome is worth the trouble, or so I hope.”
“Then let’s get to work and create something outrageous!”
Sic sounded enthusiastic, dragging Daran behind him as if he were a little child. Casto waved them goodbye, glad that he could now occupy the entire bench.
“WHAT IS it you wish to discuss with me, brother?”
Renaldo took a sip from the wine Canubis had offered him and sat back in his chair. Canubis was still standing, seemingly in two minds whether he should get some wine as well. In the end, he sat down without the wine but with a weary expression instead.
“Are you still pondering our next campaign?” Renaldo sounded disbelieving. He wasn’t used to a hesitating Canubis.
“Yes, I am. I’m still not sure if we should take it on.”
“What’s there to be unsure about? Elgir told us that he learned his tricks from a rebel group in the Dark Forest. Queen Xe’lien wants us to hunt down a rebellious splinter group in the same area. The chances that they are one and the same are quite high, which means we get paid for indulging in personal revenge. And even if they aren’t, we have free range within the forest to find our target. I really don’t understand where the problem is.”
“I do admit it fits neatly and suits our needs perfectly. Except for one thing—it’s going to be a guerilla war. You know they can drag on endlessly. We might be stuck in the East for the next five or six years, depending on the contract. Since Xe’lien is no fool, she will see to it that we can’t back out before we’ve done a thorough job.”
Renaldo made a grunting sound. Canubis’s worries were well-grounded. The Dark Forest stretched seemingly endlessly between the northeastern plains and the fertile lands of the East. The Umman had its source somewhere in the northern part, where the forest covered the flanks of the Wolf Mountains. In countless little streams, some of them underground, the water flowed through the forest until it reached the southwestern end, where it united into one huge river that was the source of life for the entire continent.
It was a huge area where it was easy to hide. Even if the rebels didn’t have any military training—and chances were they had—they could easily withstand the Pack. The question was whether they could afford being stuck in the East for so long.
Renaldo drained his cup. “It’s a wager, but I don’t think we have a choice. The magic Elgir used to disguise himself was strong. He didn’t have any talent, so whoever gave him the power must have known what they were doing and why. I don’t like the idea of somebody as dangerous as that lurking at our back.”
“Neither do I. Still, I don’t like it. I can feel the Good Mother’s strength growing. Being scattered throughout the Dark Forest to end a guerilla war isn’t an ideal tactical position.”
“I agree. But even though the Good Mother is becoming more powerful, she’s still unable to strike. Until now, she had to resort to schemes to fight us, and we have all the Emeris and our hearts. She’s undoubtedly gathering her troops, but like us, it will take her time. And the Dark Forest is one of her strongholds. If we obliterate it, we have the advantage.”
“I never thought I’d say this, but from a tactical point of view, you’re right, little brother. We have to go.”
“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear the condescending part of your words and agree with you, big brother. You’ll see, it’s going to be fun.”
Canubis made a face.
“It’s going to be tiresome, running around in the woods, chasing shadows, looking out for the next ambush while catching the rebels one by one. I hate guerilla warfare! Speaking of which,” Canubis reached for the wine, “how is your mate doing?”
Now it was Renaldo’s turn to make a face. Casto was a sore point at the moment.
“It has started to snow, so his mood swings have taken a turn for the worse. He doesn’t like it when he freezes.”
“You’re finding excuses for him again. Are you still fighting?”
“You mean the big one from last week? We resolved that, more or less. We had some intense fun last night, so I think he has forgiven me.”
Canubis grunted. He didn’t like how Casto played Renaldo.
“You should teach him some manners, brother. He’s getting out of hand.”
Renaldo leaned back in his seat. It was a difficult topic, made worse by the fact that Canubis was right. If Casto didn’t learn to bow to their will, he could quickly become a curse for the Pack.
“How should I do that? I don’t have your authority, and even if I did, I promised not to use my divine powers to subjugate him. If I ever do, he probably won’t forgive me. You’ve seen what he’s capable of. I want him on our side, wholeheartedly.”
“I do as well. You know I like him. But he’s too dangerous at the moment. You have to find a way, brother, or else he has the potential to blow up in our faces. Knowing him, he’ll choose the most inconvenient moment as well.”
The divine brothers shared a grim smile. Having somebody like Casto in their ranks sure kept things interesting. To lighten the mood, Renaldo addressed another, equall
y important but far less explosive topic.
“What are you going to give Aegid, Kalad, and Daran for their wedding?”
“First I thought I’d go with something kinky, knowing Aegid’s and Kalad’s preferences, but that wouldn’t be fair to Daran. He already has his hands full without me adding to the burden.”
The mocking smile playing around Canubis’s lips betrayed the care he pretended to have.
“You just want your first Echend’dim to be able to walk properly, that’s all.”
“You got me there. In my defense, I have to say that I also want to strengthen his position in the Pack. So I decided to make him rich.”
Renaldo grinned.
“We’re definitely brothers. I was thinking the same. So the little thief is going to be a rich mercenary soon.”
Canubis nodded. He liked how his and his brother’s minds were getting more and more attuned. It was a good sign.
“Rich and powerful indeed. Speaking of which, how is Sic doing?”
Renaldo made a face. The Luksari was another sore topic he’d rather avoid.
“Not well. I’m starting to have doubts whether he will ever be able to become a true lord of the Valley. He’s too hesitant and way too soft.”
“He did punish that female, though. The one who hurt Casto.”
“Yes, but only because I pressured him. Afterward, he set her free. Now she’s working for him for money! Can you imagine that? Noran told me Sic is thinking about doing the same with his other slaves.”
Canubis sighed. This was indeed unheard of—yet it suited the Luksari.
“He can do that. It’s his right as their owner. And perhaps it’s for the best. If he’s truly unable to become a master, it’s probably better for him to pursue different paths.”
“Since when are you so lenient, brother?”
Canubis regarded Renaldo with half-closed eyes.
“You know why. We can’t afford to lose Sic, it’s as simple as that. And we know next to nothing about his true nature, except that he’s able to intimidate even the Mothers. If keeping him means making a few minor concessions, I’ll gladly do that. So far we have only two Echend’dim. Once the Good Mother has reached her full power, we’re going to need a lot more.”
