Velvet

by Xavier Axelson

  “Will we survive this night?” I asked, seeking consolation.

  “I heard a saying once, ‘the night is a friend to those who seek its protection,’ and it is in this I am finding solace,” Seton replied soothingly.

  “What of the ship?”

  “Tonight, when I left the castle I sought Claus, and found him at a theatre in town where his troupe had performed. When I told him my plight, he reminded me of a spice merchant by the name of Doremme, a friend and as silent as the ocean when it comes to his cargo.”

  “Your brother,” I said, suddenly alert and thinking of Claus. “Will he not join us? If Duir should know of his relation to you, it could mean his doom.”

  Seton laughed. “You are full of many worries. My brother and I part many times, only to eventually find one another later. He will do as he wishes and I will do the same. He has found happiness here. Duir knows not of my relation to him and Therese has larger concerns on her mind than to reveal Claus’s identity.”

  “The sickness?”

  “I believe Sylvain may have been correct in his talk of plague. Claus told of seeing many bloody horrors before he parted from Therese.”

  I exhaled. My body was exhausted and my mind spun. “I hate the thoughts in my head, swirling like smoke and able to penetrate the cracks of my heart. If Therese is ill and knows of the illness, why does she remain mute? Yet, I am no better. I have remained silent because of doubt, fear and the pageantry of the coronation. I am no better than she.”

  “Perhaps not,” Seton responded. “Perhaps no one is better than anyone else, and that is the answer.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do you truly believe Duir to be a better man than Sylvain or yourself? Is Therese less than Tienne? These beliefs exist only because those who govern have made them so.”

  When he finished, he kissed my forehead as if to comfort me.

  “You don’t know Duir as I do, Seton. You have only been in his court a short time. He is trapped as we are, maybe more so because he is blind to what is happening.”

  “You would defend him?” Seton lifted himself from my arms, folded his arms across my chest, and rested his chin on them so he could look at me.

  Even in the dark I could sense his eyes on me.

  “Maybe I defend him to mask my own humiliation for having been blind and deaf for so long to what they truly are and who I truly am.”

  “It doesn’t matter, my love. Soon we will know the expanse of ocean and new lands where everything smells of spice and people are not judged by velvet or cock.” When he said the last, he moved the blanket covering us and saw I was partially erect. “Should you not know release before you dream?”

  “Your mouth is a dream, perhaps everything else is a nightmare.” I groaned as his hands continued to stoke my passions.

  “You shall have a waking dream,” he answered seductively and I felt his body slide along mine, one hand stroking my cock, the other finding and pulling roughly at my chest. Once his fingers found a nipple, they tugged on the tender flesh until it hardened and I moaned.

  I kicked the blankets from the bed and felt the cool night air creep across my naked body. Exposed to him, to the ghosts, to fear and pain, and yet I wanted it, yearned for the release and exorcism of the words, thoughts and fears in my head.

  “You ache.” Seton’s mouth hovered close to my swollen cock. “I want to know the ache of your cock as it pulses, hot and hard.” His words made my body tingle.

  “Yes,” I grunted as I felt the seductive swirl of his tongue along the tip of my cock. “Put my cock in your mouth.”

  When he licked at me, his tongue caressed the entire length of my cock before he stopped at the top, before taking me inside him.

  I moaned and lowered my hands until they found the top of his head. My fingers wound themselves into his soft hair.

  He coaxed me further into his mouth. I felt his tongue massaging my cock, and the wet sucking noises his lips made. I arched my ass from the bed in an attempt to make him take even more of me, consume me, drown out everything until there was only pleasure. I closed my eyes and saw nothing, but felt everything.

  “Faster,” I growled and dug my fingers into his skull, his hair sliding beneath my fingers.

  He groaned his compliance at my demand, and sucked harder. He released my cock from his mouth to gasp for air. “Will you let me drink you as I did before?”

  “You needn’t ask,” I answered as I strained my body towards his mouth.

  It was if Seton were not a man, but a greedy creature. His words were no longer words, but sounds of an animal as his mouth reclaimed my cock. I was his. Though he asked, I realized I was under his spell and gave in to his demands if only to please him and have him continue his exquisite exploration of my body.

  The moist ministrations of his mouth, the furious and teasing flick of his tongue, and the suction of his lips made it clear my cock was his instrument and I was to be played until completion. Seton was a consummate musician. I felt his skills and could only comply until the shuddering of my orgasm made me jerk with the frenzy of a crescendo.

  “Fuck!” I cursed loudly as I unloaded what felt like a massive burden within myself. My flood could no longer be contained, my body sacrificed to this moment of complete climax. I felt Seton’s throat constrict as he swallowed, his hungry mouth wanting all of me. I clawed at his head, and even as I spilled my seed, I wrenched his mouth from my cock. I quickly leaned towards him and covered his mouth with mine. In his kiss was the true release.

  When it was over, we lay entwined in each other’s arms. This was our love. A song written by a musician, the fabric woven by a tailor, performed by our bodies and hearts. One of his legs covered mine. My fingers drew shapes on his back and traveled along his side so he shivered with excitement. Sensing his arousal, I sought his cock.

  He removed my hand from where it longed to stay. “When we are away from here,” he mumbled in my ear, and brought my hand to his lips. This denial only made the want stronger and intensified my need to leave this place.

  I thought of us on another shore. “Am I running away?”

  Seton’s head lay on my chest. “You are saving yourself, and your brother. It is impossible for either of you to stay.”

  “I truly must leave the house my father built, the last place I saw my mother and everything within must stay?” I said this more to hear the words than to get a response.

  Seton said nothing, but tightened his arms around me.

  It was like this that we drifted into sleep.

  Chapter 19

  When I awoke, the world wore grey. Grey as a corpse, I thought as I rose from bed. For a minute, I panicked. Seton was not by my side. Had one of Duir’s men come and taken him during the night?

  “Nonsense,” I muttered, but quickly dressed and descended the stairs to the kitchen. There Seton was helping Sylvain pack a large sack on the table. I saw that he wore the velvet cape.

  Seton looked at me, smiled, but remained silent.

  Sylvain, hearing my arrival, raised his head but said nothing. Durant rested on his shoulders.

  “Our horse?” I asked, unable to think of anything to say but needing to hear sound.

  Sylvain bowed his head. “I’ve already brought it to a new home, another blind man whose son will look after it for us.”

  I knew this action pained him, for the horse truly belonged to him. I felt the weight of responsibility upon me. “I’m sorry, Sylvain.” Seeing his shoulders sag, I left the kitchen.

  The shop was dark, lit only by the coming dawn. It was cold and dead. The life sucked up and away by circumstance. What an unkind world, I thought as I saw the velvet. It was not cold and dark, but lay as exotic and wondrous as always. It seemed as though it managed to draw the feeble cold light to itself and in doing this, held a magnetic sway to my spirit. I wanted it to come with us, I wanted to take it away from this place where it never belonged and make our clothes from it. Wouldn’t that
be fine! I thought as I reached for it. Wouldn’t it have all been worth—

  “Will you bring it?”

  It was Seton who’d come upon me. I shook my head. “No. For a moment I thought of it, but now I know I cannot. It should stay here and perhaps I will come one day and collect it.”

  “You will return. No king rules forever.” Seton went over to the window and surveyed the lake. “I remember sleeping under that tree, my heart pounding, and my head upside-down because of you.”

  “You were drunk,” I replied and we both laughed. “It seems so long ago and yet it was only days.”

  “Much has happened since. Time seems longer when it is full.”

  “Will you be this cryptic from now on, or can’t we leave the visions and mysteries to my brother?” I joked and was glad to hear him laugh.

  Our mirth was cut short as the sound of an approaching carriage reminded us of the precariousness of our situation. I went to the door.

  “Virago,” Sylvain called nervously.

  “Both of you be quiet,” I ordered.

  I opened the door to find Auberon dismounting from a carriage. As he strode towards me, I noticed a haggard appearance to his face and posture.

  “Virago,” he called my name as though it pained him.

  Seton came from behind, followed by Sylvain, so we all stood on the doorstep.

  When Auberon saw Seton, he stopped where he stood. He made a disappointed sound and shook his head. “I come to bring you and the musician to court. It is because of His Majesty’s friendship for you I did not arrive with guards.”

  From my side, I saw Seton’s bandaged hands drop to his sides. He would not be taken, he would fight. Sylvain drew close and I heard Durant begin to snarl.

  “Auberon, if there was ever true brotherhood between us, I ask you say the house was abandoned when you arrived.” I moved towards him and was shocked when his hand reached to the blade at his side.

  “Had Briar’s illness not distracted us, you would have been brought to heel last night!” He cast a cold eye at Seton.

  “Heel? Like dogs?” Seton shouted. “It is you, My Lord, who lives among a pack of mongrels. It is you who should be taught to heel!”

  Auberon, shocked by Seton’s outburst, stood as though he’d already been struck. I saw his eyes flash and knew he meant killing.

  “My Lord.” I quickly stepped forward, met Auberon, and clasped my hand on his shoulder. “What news of Briar? Does he live?”

  Auberon glared past me at Seton as though he did not hear my questions.

  “It is too early in the morning for bloodshed, otherwise your musician would be dead!” he yelled over my shoulder.

  I leveled my eyes at Auberon and carefully raised a hand in deference. “Auberon, listen to me. Does Briar live?”

  “He is gravely ill. The Royal Physicians are at a loss, and Duir has already sent for another who is well versed in strange diseases.” He drew close to my ear. “There is talk of plague, and Cale is missing.”

  My eyes widened. Cale has not been found. He lies by the gardens. Perhaps dead!

  I felt a strange sense of giddiness overwhelm me. “You should be very careful, Auberon. I’ve heard there is an illness among the whores. I would derive little enjoyment knowing Tienne became ill because of your indiscretions.”

  “What?”

  I watched as fear washed over him.

  “It is a rumor, My Lord, but as rumors go, I would say it is fairly accurate.”

  “I have been chaste since Tienne arrived.” Realization must have flooded him. “Briar and…”

  “Has Duir—”

  “Say nothing more, Virago. You dig your grave deeper with every word. Duir was clear in his intent this morning on turning his head from your carnal act with this man. It is obvious you have fallen under some foolish whim, there will be a price to pay for it.”

  When I did not immediately answer, Auberon shook his head in disbelief.

  “You are not yourself, friend, tell me the musician forced your hand and twisted your thoughts, and I will have a word on your behalf, Tienne wishes—”

  “Tienne wishes me to make your wedding garments, nothing more,” I interrupted not with malice, but cold certainty. “And when those garments are complete, you would find your tongue held when I am brought before Duir. I know this as surely as the dawn follows night.”

  “Now you are a mystic able to divine my future actions?” asked Auberon, incredulous. “You forget the years of loyal friendship between us.”

  I put a hand on his shoulder. “I have forgotten because I have been forsaken by loyalty. As for my hand being forced, you should know it was I who sought solace in Seton’s arms. It appears you have saved yourself from this illness. I hope for Killian’s memory that his son has done the same. Now, I ask you to turn your head and let us go.”

  “I don’t understand you. Do you not care of Briar’s fate? Cale’s? Perhaps your neck belongs on the block alongside the musician’s!”

  My hand dropped from his shoulder. I was reminded of Cale’s treachery upon me, and the burn of his seed on my face.

  “Let us go, Auberon, or there will be bloodshed upon my father’s land this day regardless of the hour.”

  From behind me, I heard Seton and Sylvain coming forth and knew without looking they both had drawn weapons.

  “You would draw weapons on a member of the Privy Council?” He laughed. “You would try and kill me. Two men who fuck each other and an invalid?”

  Seton seethed from behind. “My Lord, you will find I am as versed with the blade as the lute, and am only too happy to demonstrate my skills!”

  The tension in the air crackled. Seton would rush upon Auberon in a moment, and Auberon would join battle with equal rage. Sensing this, I realized I’d strayed wide from my father’s belief in the powers of mending that which had been torn apart. Summoning the strength of my father, I found presence of mind to remain serene, hoping this would ease the strain between us all.

  “Auberon, go to Duir, tell him of the rumor. If there is plague, I wish you both be spared. Cale is damned to me and I will say no more about it. If you do not let us go, you will have to take us by force and if you succeed, I will tear open wounds the Privy Council will wish were left to heal.” I saw my words bite at Auberon’s stony façade.

  Auberon dropped his sword. He glared over my shoulder at Seton and Sylvain. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. Our eyes met and he nodded so slightly, it was barely perceivable.

  I watched, anxiously as he strode to his carriage, and once inside shouted for the driver to depart.

  As the carriage made its way from my house. Seton came to my side.

  “We must leave now, and quickly.”

  * * * *

  The harbor was coming to life as we arrived. Merchants moved among those who carried trade from their boats and those who sought work on ships begged after rich traders who did business nearby.

  Sylvain inhaled the briny air as though he just learned to breathe moments ago. “The sea always smells like freedom.”

  “So it does,” Seton agreed. “I must go and meet Doremme. I will be but a moment.”

  As he walked away, a sudden urge came upon me.

  “I must do something,” I said. “Go seek your friend and when you return, I will be here.”

  “If you must go, be careful. I will come back shortly.”

  “Careful and quick as the wind,” I answered.

  “I will watch him with my own blind eyes, no greater watch could be summoned!” Sylvain teased. His mood had lightened ever since we’d announced our leaving.

  “I will worry less,” Seton answered, bowed, then walked away.

  I watched him only a moment before I took my own cleansing breath of sea air and began to walk to the streets.

  “What are you thinking?” Sylvain asked as he walked beside me.

  “Father and Mother,” I replied and reached a hand up to Durant, who slumbered across Sy
lvain’s shoulders, and stroked the creature’s soft ears.

  Sylvain made no reply, but walked with me in companionable and alert silence.

  As we reentered the heavy air of the town, we both made short gasping sounds as though our lungs had forgotten the smells and smoke of where we’d lived for so long.

  As we drew closer to the large, weathered metal gates of the cemetery, my heart grew heavy. “How can we leave so easily?”

  “Is it easily?” Sylvain answered. “Though I am leaving something, one day I will return. Father and Mother beckon not from their graves, but from the sea. They would wish us to go and hope we return. Leaving something so loved is many things, though I think easy is not one of them.” He knelt and lifted Durant from his shoulders. The fox grew alert and soon scampered off into some nearby bushes to relieve itself.

  Sylvain’s words haunted me as I reached into the pocket of my breeches and took from it a length of fabric. I held it up, admired it, and smiled as it shimmered. Reminded not only of when I first encountered its magnificence, but also of my father’s death, the contentment I’d found with Seton, and even the debauchery and brotherhood I’d known among Duir and the men of his Privy Council.

  Were we brothers? I thought of Auberon and wished him the good fortune of a happy marriage and children. It was fortunate Auberon avoided the disease growing among the populace. I wished Briar a quick return to health and the joust.

  Were we enemies? Cale, dark and brooding, a monster of indescribable and unspeakable cruelty loomed like a shadow next to a tomb, but he would fade as the sun grew brighter and distance came between us. We were never brothers! Never would I experience anything but sad, hateful shame where he was concerned.