by Xenia Melzer
As if Renaldo wanted to torture Casto on purpose, he examined him for some time before he started talking. “I’m still furious, Casto. Your behavior yesterday was unacceptable. But I don’t want to take rash measures based on my anger. For the time being, I’m going to keep you. However, one mistake, no matter how small, and I instantly sell you to the highest bidder, understood?”
Shocked, Casto stared at the ground. All he could muster was a hoarse whisper. “Yes, Master.”
“Good. Then get to work now.”
With that, Renaldo turned away from his slave so that he didn’t realize how hard it was for Renaldo to treat him so dismissively when all he wanted to do was pull him into his arms and kiss him. He heard Casto getting up and leaving the room quietly. In that moment, the Angel of Death felt lonelier than ever before in his centuries-long existence. He missed their morning ritual, missed the arguments, the passion, and most of all, he missed Casto’s pride.
But the young man had to learn that his actions had consequences, that he couldn’t oppose his master any way he pleased.
If only it wasn’t so hard to show the necessary strictness.
“YOUR PLAN has worked out perfectly!”
Elwan’s taunting voice made Damon edgy. His week hadn’t been too good so far. He’d hoped for a bombshell from his scheme against Casto, and all that had happened was a faint tinkle. Being mocked by the likes of Elwan didn’t improve his mood.
Elwan continued to taunt him. “He hasn’t even whipped him. The prick has gone unpunished, as usual.”
Damon tried hard to hide his anger and highlight the few positive points. “I admit that things could’ve gone better, but you’re wrong in thinking Casto wasn’t punished. His well-being is hanging by a thread. Haven’t you noticed how humble he’s become? I bet you Renaldo’s threatened to sell him—which means there’s only one tiny incident keeping Casto from testing his arrogance against a master like Aegid or Noran.”
Elwan’s face lit up in malicious joy. “And you think you’re going to create that incident?”
Damon ignored the mockery and the challenge attached to it. The man in front of him was nothing more than a gambling piece he could use for his own purposes. It didn’t pay to get agitated because of a mere tool.
“That’s not necessary. Regarding Casto’s temper, I don’t think he can keep up the humility for more than a few days.”
“So we’re just going to sit back and wait?”
Damon treated Elwan to a smile that made the slave shiver in fear. “That, my friend, is the fun part.”
IN THEIR chambers, Wolfstan sprawled lazily on one of the lounges, sipping hot tea from a cup and watching his darling wife sharpening her favorite daggers with practiced ease. The sonorous sound of the grindstone had a meditative effect on Wolfstan and allowed him to let his thoughts go wandering.
He loved this time of year, when winter forced the normally hectic life in the Valley to a halt. It was time to lean back and reminisce about the past year and think about the decisions he had put on hold. When people first met him, many of them underestimated Wolfstan, thinking him slow and cumbersome until time taught them better. The armorer was a thorough man who didn’t like to rush things. His never-ending patience also made him the perfect husband for Hulda, whose vivacious nature had drawn in—and then put off—quite a lot of men and women in the past.
Contrary to her husband, Hulda couldn’t see the benefits of the quiet season. As an assassin, she needed a certain amount of activity for peace of mind. It was the time of year when she was irritable, and it wasn’t a good idea to challenge her wrath. Now she stopped her work and put the dagger down with a little more force than necessary. Her expressive lavender eyes drilled into Wolfstan. “What is it?”
The armorer smiled. He had known his wife long enough to know that she wasn’t really angry, simply bored. “Nothing, my sweet one. I’m just thinking.”
“You do that all the time, armorer.”
Despite the cool wording, there was tenderness in the voice of the Mother Superior of the Sisters of the Night, the most famous order of assassins in the history of Ana-Darasa. Even though the order was no more, Hulda still carried the honorific, thus keeping the memory alive. Hulda loved her husband deeply. She had a strong suspicion that he was the prize Ana-Isara had promised her before the kiss that had changed her life forever. She’d been married to Wolfstan for so long, she knew where his thoughts were taking him. “Don’t worry about Casto and Renaldo. They’ll make up soon enough.”
A fond smile was the answer to this statement. “You always know what I’m thinking. But I’m still worried. Since that unfortunate incident, our leader is as irritable as a whore after an unsuccessful night. And Casto is sulking like a beaten dog. I’ve been expecting them to make up in less than a week. If this goes on, I’m afraid Renaldo might lose him.”
Hulda cast her daggers aside, sauntered over to where Wolfstan was sitting, snuggled up to her husband, and sipped from his teacup. “I know what you mean. They’re both so unhappy. Who would’ve thought it possible that the proud Angel of Death could fall so hard for a slave?”
“You’ve said it yourself. Casto is far more than a mere slave.”
“That’s a fact. Although I can’t exactly pinpoint what it is about him that makes him so special. I don’t like admitting it, but he’s almost impossible to read.”
“Harder to read than you, my sweet one?”
“Mmm. In comparison, I’m like an open book—for those who can read.”
“Are you challenging me?”
Hulda kissed her husband passionately. Wolfstan was never able to resist her erotic assaults; she knew too well how to use her body. He returned the kiss with devotion. His hands spanned his wife’s hips in a possessive gesture. Suddenly greedy, Hulda started to strip him, her beautiful face showing her lust openly. The so-far boring day was definitely looking up.
“YOUR SLAVE has shown admirable restraint over the past few days.”
Canubis watched his brother intently. He was worried about Renaldo, who had gotten more and more introverted since that last argument with Casto.
“Yes. It’s been almost two weeks.” Renaldo sounded strained. He suspected what Canubis, the Wolf of War, was aiming at.
And Canubis confirmed it. “You’re aware that he won’t hold up for much longer? Sooner or later he’ll decide that he has endured enough, and then he’ll be back to his old self.”
“I know.”
“But you’re not going to take any action?”
Renaldo sighed. He’d been pondering the very same question repeatedly without finding a solution. Casto’s current humility was scary and awkward, and Renaldo preferred the young man rebellious and bold. How he should find a balance between Casto the way he wanted him and an obedient, uncomplicated slave escaped him. “I’ve explained to you already. There’s no sense in whipping him. You were there when I punished him.”
Canubis grumbled something Renaldo didn’t hear. Then, “You have to come up with something, brother. He’s making a fool of you. Your beautiful little slave needs to realize that he’s your property.”
“And how should I accomplish that?”
Canubis grinned. “Luckily, that’s not my problem. But you’re ingenious—you’ll find a way.”
“Idiot.” Halfheartedly, Renaldo hit his brother; he was already busy trying to solve his aggravating problem.
THAT EVENING Casto returned to his master’s chambers late. He was pale like the snow outside and some strands of hair had broken loose from his ponytail. The roughhewn shirt and the old leather trousers he’d worn since his punishment started were covered in dirt. He moved slower than normal, without the grace Renaldo had gotten used to.
Deeply worried, Renaldo approached him. “Holy Mothers! Casto, what’s happened to you? You look like you’ve fallen off a horse.”
“I haven’t fallen off a horse, no.”
“Have you been trampled?” Renaldo k
new he sounded like a mother hen, but Casto looked as if he had been in some kind of fight.
With clumsy fingers, Casto tried to open the buttons of his shirt. “I haven’t been trampled. I’ve been—under the horse.” Casto made a face while taking off his shirt.
Renaldo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Let me guess. Crazy Nirena.”
“It wasn’t her fault.”
“You always say that! How many times does she have to wound you until you realize that she’s beyond hope? I’m seriously contemplating forbidding you to ride this stupid beast anymore!”
Under normal circumstances a statement like that would have been the opening act for Casto, and they would have gotten into a heated argument in no time. But now Casto lowered his gaze demurely and pleaded, “Please don’t do that, Master. It was my fault. I overexerted her.”
It made Renaldo shiver, seeing his slave subdued like that. It was high time to end the farce. Determinedly he helped Casto out of his remaining clothes and walked him to the bath. “Get into the water. The warmth will do you good.”
Again Casto obeyed without a word and lowered himself into the pool that was more than one and a half paces long and almost as broad. To distract himself from the stunning sight as well as what he was about to do to Casto, Renaldo went into his bedroom, grabbed the jewelry he had been keeping in a small box on the bedside table, and returned to the bath. He watched Casto slowly relax in the hot water. “I’ve decided to forgive you, slave.”
The blond startled in surprise.
“But I do ask for compensation.”
Suspiciously Casto beheld his master. “What do you want?”
Renaldo crouched down next to Casto’s head and showed him his open palm. Three studs made of pure gold, each as long as one of Casto’s finger bones, were glittering there. Blue diamonds were attached on both ends, one of each suspended on a very fine chain.
“You will give your consent to being marked with these.”
Casto’s brows furrowed, but before he could say anything, Renaldo kept on talking. “This, and you’re going to accompany me to the Spring Ceremony next week without any back talk. In return I’ll forgive and forget the whole incident.”
Abruptly, Casto sat up in the water. He was trembling with rage and the glances he shot his master were so spirited that Renaldo almost drew back. “What happens should I decline?”
Renaldo took a deep breath. He knew he was cornering his proud slave now. “If you decline, Noemi will come tomorrow morning to heal your wounds. Afterward I’ll give you provisions, weapons, and gold, and then you’ll leave the Valley together with Lys.”
“That’s blackmail, Barbarian. You know as well as I do that this is impossible for me!” Casto’s voice was a hiss.
“I know. But you’ve said it yourself—I’m a barbarian. You shouldn’t be surprised when I revert to low tricks. I’m weary of our games, Casto. Either you obey or you leave.”
The internal battle Casto was fighting showed clearly on his face. After a breathless silence during which Renaldo started worrying whether his slave might decide to leave after all, Casto finally gave in. “Very well, Barbarian, I will allow you to mark me. But there’s no way I’ll accompany you to the Spring Ceremony. Never!”
Renaldo’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t believe that Casto still wasn’t giving up. At the same time, he was thrilled. Finally things were going back to normal. “You don’t listen well, slave. You either obey or I’ll send you away.”
“And you don’t seem to get it. I’ve absolutely no inclination whatsoever to spend an entire evening watching you fuck yourself silly with all the members of the Pack. I’d rather leave.”
Instead of answering this heated declaration with words, Renaldo ripped off his tunic and glided into the water next to Casto in one swift movement. He grabbed Casto’s shoulders violently, pulled him close, and kissed him hungrily. “Why in the world would I sleep with anybody else but you if I’m given the choice? I only want you.”
Renaldo didn’t know if Casto had heard his words, because his slave had nestled himself against him with a sigh, his wet skin rubbing Renaldo’s own, his whole body an invitation. Renaldo gave in to the temptation. They hadn’t shared the bed since the incident in the training hall, and the fire he had so arduously kept in check the past few days started blazing, burning them both to cinders.
Casto gave himself willingly: he didn’t resist when Renaldo pressed him against the edge of the pool to take him first there and then later on the floor of the bathroom. His uncharacteristic obedience was a sure sign that he’d missed his master as much as Renaldo had craved him.
After both of them had sated their hunger, Renaldo spoke again. “I only want you, Casto. If you come with me, there’s no reason for me to have intercourse with others.”
Casto shot him an accusing look. “Those past three years you always attended the Spring Ceremony.”
“Because it’s my duty. I always left as soon as possible to be with you. You can ask anyone in the Valley, and they will all confirm that I have never done this before. And you know very well that I’ve otherwise been faithful to you.”
Casto lowered his gaze, shamed by his jealousy. “I know. I’ll do what you’re asking.”
Renaldo knew he had to take action before his own determination crumbled or Casto had too much time to think things through. He grabbed Casto’s wrist, dragged him into the main room, and pushed him onto one of the lounges.
“You lie down. I’ll be right back.”
He returned to Casto carrying a sharp awl, a basin with glowing coals, and a pot of healing salve. Casto showed a stubborn expression as he rested in the pillows. Without heeding the reproachful looks, Renaldo bent forward and took Casto’s right nipple in his mouth. When he started to suck, Casto drew his breath in sharply, and then his hips started to move invitingly.
Renaldo somehow managed to withstand the temptation Casto’s naked body offered, and reached for the red-hot awl from the nearby brazier. Casto didn’t make a sound while Renaldo pierced first his nipples and then the base of his manhood in order to push the studs through his flesh, but his hands clawed at the furs desperately and he was sweating all over. When it was done, Renaldo cast the awl aside and gently applied healing salve to the wounds before he started fondling Casto again.
Despite his anger, Casto allowed it and gave in to his master’s wishes.
Renaldo enjoyed this docility, knowing full well it wouldn’t last.
Later, when they were lying in the furs, drained from their exertions, Renaldo gently caressed Casto’s smooth skin. “Once the wounds have healed, you’ll find out that these studs aren’t so bad. I know some interesting tricks you’ll certainly approve of.”
Anger crept into Casto’s features. “Even if you knew a thousand tricks, the fact remains that you forced me to wear this trumpery. You’ve adorned me like a cheap tavern whore.”
A condescending smile crossed Renaldo’s face. “I wouldn’t go so far, slave. Or do you know many tavern whores decorated with real blue diamonds in their flesh?”
Casto’s eyes widened. He sat up and felt the three studs with trembling hands. Now that Renaldo had called his attention to them, he regarded the stones with more than just a casual glance. They were indeed blue diamonds, probably the most noble and rarest stones in the world. In his anger he hadn’t noticed before. “Why are you doing this, Barbarian? These stones are worth a fortune, probably two.”
Everything in Casto resented wearing such expensive jewelry. Aside from the humiliation the mere existence of the studs meant to him, he was reluctant to show off such wealth.
Obviously Renaldo had a different opinion. “That might be, but I think you’re worth a lot more than this trumpery. I like adorning you with beautiful things. I enjoy giving you presents.”
Those words, meant as a proposal of peace, rebounded from Casto’s anger like water from a rock. “That the stones, as well as I, emphasize your power and status ha
s nothing to do with it? You’re simply demonstrating that nobody can keep up with you.”
Renaldo sighed. He’d known Casto wasn’t stupid enough to fall for flattery. He had seen immediately through his master’s true intentions and was similarly angry. But Renaldo didn’t know what else he could do. The studs were an obvious symbol for everybody in the Valley that Casto was Renaldo’s and Renaldo’s alone. That Casto had to bow to his will, however reluctantly.
Renaldo yawned. “You’re probably right. I’d like to sleep now. My need for discussion with you is covered for today.”
Casto didn’t answer but turned in his master’s arms in order to sleep.
2. Orgy
THE MORNING of the Spring Ceremony dawned as bleak as Casto’s mood. Immediately after breakfast, Renaldo brought him to the sweathouse, where he would be prepared for the evening. Frankus greeted them at the entrance, bowing respectfully to the Angel of Death.
“My lord, I’m honored!”
“Frankus! It’s my pleasure. As discussed I’m bringing you Casto for the preparations. I’ll leave him in your skilled hands.”
With that, he pushed his slave toward Frankus, with one hand resting heavily on Casto’s nape, reminding the young man of his promise.
“You know my preferences, Frankus. If everything is to my liking, you won’t regret it.”
Frankus smiled carefully. The tension between master and slave hadn’t escaped him. “I’ve never doubted that, my lord. I’ll look after your property with the utmost care.”
Renaldo could feel Casto’s back muscles tense when he heard those words, so he tightened his grip in warning. “Remember, you promised to behave.”
The menacing glare Renaldo got for that made his blood sing in happy anticipation. Finally things were back to normal.
“I haven’t forgotten it, Barbarian.”
“That’s all I wanted to hear. You can trust Frankus. He’s the best. Everything he does to you is my will, don’t forget that.”
