by Xenia Melzer
He had to come up with an idea as soon as possible, or they both would meet their end.
AT NOON the next day, it looked as if their fate was sealed. Cornelia had tripped over a stone, fallen hard, and hadn’t been able to get up again. When Bantu leaned over her to help, he was brutally yanked back by one of the slave traders.
“Out of my way, scum!”
In the man’s fist, a dagger gleamed. He opened Cornelia’s chain, ready to slit her throat. Desperately, Bantu attacked the man, determined to defend his sister to the last breath, to join her in death if necessary.
A second slave trader appeared and threw him off the first one. Bantu hardly felt the blows on his head and torso. He only had eyes for his sister, who fought her murderer’s grip weakly without the slightest chance to get away. The dagger shimmered high in the air. Bantu reared up against his attacker, a desperate scream on his lips… and then there was suddenly a dark, gigantic shadow that caught the slave trader’s wrist in a steely grip.
A shrill scream tore from the slaver’s throat when his bones broke like dried twigs. He fell to his knees. With his left hand, he protected his broken right, his eyes glued to the newcomer in utter shock.
Or newcomers. Astonished, Bantu looked at the two men who had just saved his sister.
The one who had broken the slave trader’s hand was a giant, about one ell and four spans tall, with white hair and milky blue eyes in stark contrast to his dark skin. His companion was almost two and a half heads smaller, with long black hair that hung in countless braids. The dark eyes sparked with humor, and he seemed to Bantu like a man who took everything in life as a game.
Now he shook his head, making his braids fly. “Tsk, tsk. Don’t get your weapons. That’s not a bright idea.”
The slave traders gazed in fear at the heavy broadsword, which had appeared in the giant’s hands as if by magic, and at the two smaller but no less intimidating weapons the braided one wielded.
He carried on as if oblivious to the superior numbers he was facing. “We don’t want to detain you. We’re here for business.”
The taller warrior loosened a small leather bag from his belt. He threw it to the slave traders in a careless manner. “That should be enough gold to pay for the female and her brother, don’t you think?”
Without opening the pouch, the traders nodded.
The warrior smiled encouragingly. “So we’re in agreement, how nice. Please unchain them.”
Bantu didn’t move a muscle when the hated chain was removed from his ankle. Then he rushed to Cornelia, who was still lying on the ground. While he embraced her carefully, the slave traders and their cargo moved on.
The giant knelt beside the siblings, his eyes clouded by worry. “She’s very weak, Kalad. There’s no way we can transport her any length of time. She must rest.”
The braided one shrugged. “It’s okay. No drama. We’ll set up our camp somewhere here. That’s also what the wolves prefer.”
The white-haired warrior wanted to lift Cornelia up, but Bantu stopped him.
“Who in the name of the Holy Mothers are you?”
“The men who just saved your lives. You’re welcome, by the way.”
The smaller warrior sounded amused, but Bantu felt his cheeks blush in shame.
“I’m sorry. Of course we thank you from the bottom of our hearts. But why did you help us?”
The tall warrior smiled at them amiably, a gesture that made him appear less intimidating.
“Because our masters sent us to get you. They knew you were in trouble.”
“Your masters?”
“This we can discuss later. Now, let’s get off the road. I don’t want to attract unwanted attention.”
With that, the giant picked up the half-conscious Cornelia and followed the other warrior into the thicket next to the road.
As the two warriors set up a camp, Bantu leaned against a tree with his sister in his arms and watched in amazement. They erected a small tent where Cornelia could sleep, then dug a fire pit, filled it with stones, and lit the fire. Bantu tried to help, but the two warriors were a perfect team and made him feel like a foreign body. In the end, he watered the four horses, just to have something to do.
As soon as the fire was burning well, the taller one put a small cauldron filled with water on an iron tripod and adjusted the height with a chain. From the thicket, two gigantic gray wolves emerged, carrying hares in their jaws. They dropped the prey in front of the warrior, who gave his thanks with a graceful nod as if it were the most natural thing on earth to have such huge, terrifying predators serving him. Then he started skinning and preparing the prey for the pot.
The braided one placed a gentle hand on Bantu’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. They belong to us.”
Bantu managed a trembling smile. “I figured as much—but they’re still unnerving. I’ve never seen wolves that big before.”
“How could you? This special kind can only be found in the mountains.”
He grinned broadly and suddenly extended his hand.
“I’m Kalad, by the way. And this is Aegid, my desert brother.”
“My name is Bantu.” He nodded toward the tent. “My sister, Cornelia.”
“You’ve hit rock bottom, haven’t you?”
Gloomily, Bantu watched his sleeping sister. “Oh yes. Our village was raided about a year ago. I wasn’t there when it happened, but my sister… she was the only survivor.”
Sympathetically the warrior placed a hand on Bantu’s lower arm. Without saying anything further, he made clear how well he understood the hell the siblings had gone through.
“She couldn’t bear it any longer. Staying at the village, I mean. As soon as she was better, we left. Then we were captured by those slave traders.”
“Doesn’t sound like you had a great time.”
Bantu got the impression that Kalad was trying to keep their conversation on the light side, and he was grateful. To think seriously about the last few months was the last thing he wanted. “It wasn’t. Thank you for saving us, although I don’t know why you did it.”
“As Aegid already said, our masters sent us. You’re chosen ones and your death would be an inconvenience.”
“And who are those ominous masters?”
“You’ve surely heard of them. Lord Canubis and Lord Renaldo, the mercenaries of the North.”
Bantu felt the hair rise at the back of his neck.
“What would the Wolf of War want from two farmers?”
“I didn’t ask him.” Kalad’s teeth blinked snow-white in his dark face. “Canubis doesn’t appreciate it when his orders are questioned.”
“No, brother. He doesn’t appreciate it when you question his orders, because you always manage to be condescending.”
Aegid hadn’t even gone to the trouble of raising his head when stating that fact. It was obviously not the first time they’d had that conversation.
Kalad made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t listen to him. It’s always a good idea to be on good terms with the masters.”
Bantu lowered his gaze. “I wasn’t planning on anything else.”
When the sun started to go down, they ate the stew, and then Bantu and Cornelia lay down to sleep.
They stayed one more day in the camp, and when Cornelia felt better, they started the journey to the mountains. It was a long way, but thanks to the horses, not as tiring as if they’d had to walk. Since Cornelia still wasn’t well, they were pretty slow, which embarrassed the siblings but didn’t seem to faze Kalad and Aegid. With their good-natured banter and an endless source of gripping stories, they managed to make the tedious hours in the saddle almost bearable.
Three weeks later, they finally reached the Valley.
“I STILL can’t believe it.”
Bantu offered his sister a mug of hot tea and glanced at the room they had gotten from Hulda.
For a month they had been the guests of Lord Canubis, and the powerful mercenary had seen to it that th
ey didn’t lack anything. Bantu still didn’t understand what exactly Canubis meant when he said Bantu and Cornelia were chosen by the Mothers, but he was grateful for the kindness the two warriors bestowed on them.
Cornelia, too, was thankful, but she also worried how they would ever be able to pay back such a debt. With her eyes closed, she took a sip of the tea. “It seems like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? But I still don’t trust it. I want to know what those two could possibly want from us.”
“You don’t believe them?”
“I’m not sure. On the one hand, there has to be something. I mean, Aegid and Kalad found us. Then again, I’m asking myself what two simple peasants like us could do for such powerful warlords. You’re a scholar, at least, but I’m nothing.”
“Don’t talk like that, my dear. You’re my life.”
Grateful, Cornelia leaned her head on her brother’s shoulder. “It’s nice of you to say that, but you can’t spend the rest of your life protecting me. You have your own destiny to fulfill. I don’t want you to give up on yourself because of me.”
“Wouldn’t you do the same for me?”
Bantu’s voice was very soft when he asked that question. He already knew the answer. Cornelia and he had always been really close, even when their parents had still been alive. Bantu had neglected a promising career as a scholar just to be able to stay with her, and Cornelia hadn’t taken the opportunity to earn big money with her golden voice because she couldn’t bear being separated from her brother for any length of time.
“Of course I would,” she said. “Nevertheless, I feel guilty sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about that, my dear. This is like a new adventure, and I’m looking forward to where our path is headed.”
“As long as we’re walking together, I don’t care about the direction.”
Gently, Bantu placed a kiss on Cornelia’s forehead, and then they both watched the flames in silence, each cloaked in the comforting presence of the other.
Less than two weeks later, they met Ana-Isara, the Empress of the Dead, who gave them a new family and the home they had so desperately craved.
FOR A long time, Casto sat in silence, staring at the words in front of him.
The story of the siblings had touched him deeply, although Bantu had obviously tried to be as neutral as possible. But the tragedy behind the words and the deep connection between Bantu and Cornelia shone through the lines like the sun breaking through the clouds after a heavy storm. Because Casto had never felt such love—and had grown up with quite the opposite—he felt a twinge of envy. Although those two had gone through a lot, they had never been alone.
With a sigh that showed the greatness of the burden on his shoulders, Casto closed the book. It was time to return to his master.
THE MOMENT he entered the room, Renaldo realized the strange mood his slave was in.
Casto’s gaze was clouded, but not in anger. He moved slower than usual, as if brooding over a problem that kept him fully occupied.
Renaldo approached him carefully, knowing from painful experience that this kind of mood could turn into rage at any minute. He didn’t feel like fighting today, so he was willing to give Casto a break should he require it. But the young man surprised him, as he did so often. With a shy smile Renaldo hadn’t seen on him before, Casto leaned his head on Renaldo’s shoulder.
“Are you all right, Casto?”
“I think so, Barbarian.”
They were silent for a moment, and then Casto seized Renaldo’s hands. “Can you hold me? Just a bit.”
Surprised, Renaldo slung his arms around this strange youth who had kept him busy ever since they’d first met. “If you want, I can hold you the entire evening.” He could feel Casto tensing and hurried to soothe him. “I’m well aware that you do not wish to share your body tonight. But I’m still offering to hold you.”
Casto looked up in surprise. “Really?”
“Of course. You please me so often that it’s only just to do the same for you once in a while.”
Casto’s cheeks turned a lovely red; he sounded unusually timid. “Then I gladly accept your offer. Are you going to bathe with me?”
“Whatever you want. It’s my pleasure.”
It turned out to be one of the most peaceful evenings they’d ever had. Renaldo was surprised how much he enjoyed just having Casto close by, how rewarding it was to simply talk to him. He already knew that Casto was an agreeable talker, but their discussions usually ended in a fight or sex—very often with both. Just talking to each other without hidden agendas was new and stimulating.
When Casto was slowly drifting asleep in his arms, Renaldo whispered softly in his ear, “That was a very nice evening, Casto. I really enjoyed it.”
Casto’s voice was husky and came from a place deep within. “I enjoyed it as well. I thank you, my lord.”
Then he fell asleep.
WHIMPERING, CASTO rolled onto his stomach.
Renaldo watched him with an innocent air, and only the telltale glittering in his eyes betrayed him. “Are you feeling unwell, slave?”
A venomous look was the answer. “You know all too well, Barbarian. I can’t remember giving you permission to spank me that hard.”
“You really don’t remember? You begged for it quite eloquently. Every time I wanted to stop, you asked for more.”
“Yes, because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”
“Admit it, you liked it.”
“Perhaps yesterday. But today I’m aching all over.”
“Stop making such a fuss.” Renaldo leaned over his beautiful lover and lifted him up. “Be a good boy and I’ll take you to the bath. The warm water will be good for you.”
With a satisfied sigh, Casto slung his arms around his lover’s shoulders and nestled his head in the warm crook between neck and torso. “It’s always nice when you can be manipulated so easily.” His voice sounded dreamy. He could feel Renaldo chuckle.
“Why would you think you can manipulate me? I simply want to take a bath. With you.”
The last two words were said with a certain conviction that startled Casto. “What are you planning? I’m telling you, I’m too tired and sore to play any games.”
“Don’t fret about it, my gorgeous. The water will relax your muscles, and I’ll wake you up. In less than half an hour, I’ll have you begging, slave.”
Casto started to fight against him, but it was only halfhearted since the Barbarian’s words had already aroused him. He knew well that there was no escaping from Renaldo’s grip. He stopped his resistance when Renaldo eased him into the water.
A short time later, Casto was begging, as Renaldo had prophesized, which led to a prolonged, joyous morning that tempted Renaldo to keep his slave occupied in bed for the rest of the day.
Casto declined this wish, although it wasn’t easy for him. But he had his hands full with training the horses and couldn’t afford losing even one day. With that, Renaldo let him go, not without a certain regret, but he consoled himself with the thought that Casto would soon come back to him.
Thus the last weeks of winter passed quite peacefully, and except for two bigger fights, after which Casto refused to talk to his master for days, there were only single skirmishes that were hardly worth mentioning. It was indeed so tranquil that Casto couldn’t help but remember—and long for—the excitement he and Renaldo had shared earlier in the winter on their first hunting trip together.
4. The Charms of Winter
RENALDO WAS sitting on one of the lounges in his chambers trying his hardest to fight temptation while Casto stripped off the numerous layers of clothing he wore to fend off the cold. In the process, Casto kept grumbling about the chill, the early nightfall, the ugly color of his thick woolen socks in particular, and the injustice of the world in general. Renaldo had to bite his tongue more than once so he wouldn’t disrupt the ranting with a teasing remark.
Aggravating Casto was always a risky thing to do. On a good day, it
could lead to an agitated argument followed by hot, passionate make-up sex. On a bad day, it would inevitably lead to an open fight with the high probability of breakable items as collateral damage and no sex at all for a prolonged time. Since they had just left such a dry spell behind them, Renaldo was very reluctant about provoking the next one. He regarded the still-ranting but now almost-naked Casto closely in hopes of discerning his mood.
Casto sensed the intense gaze and his mesmerizing blue eyes darkened instantly. Renaldo hurried to look away and decided that this was not the time to test his luck. Trying a different approach was the wise man’s choice. He filled a cup with hot tea and offered it to Casto, who seemed taken aback by the friendly gesture.
“Is everything all right with you, Barbarian?”
Renaldo furrowed his brows but ignored the aggressive tone. “What should be wrong?”
“You’re being nice. And you’ve refrained from teasing me about the cold. Of course I’m a little worried.”
Renaldo grinned with a hint of challenge in his gray eyes. “I’ve gotten pretty good at reading your mood, which is why I’m offering you not only a hot beverage to warm you up but also my strong arms to fall into and forget about the day’s hardships. What do you say?”
For a moment Casto looked as if he couldn’t believe his ears, and then he started to laugh so hard that tears streamed down his face. “I’d say you’d better cut it out, Barbarian. You’re not suited to be a smooth talker, at least not where I’m concerned. I know you too well. What you could do, if you’re serious about comforting me, is get in the hot water with me and help me warm up.”
Delighted that Casto not only understood the joke but was also willing to take it further, Renaldo slung his arms around him and carried him to the bathroom.
