Love and the Stubborn

by Xenia Melzer

  TWO BUSY hours later, Renaldo pulled one of the furs over Casto’s naked form. The young man was snuggled up against him, his wheat-blond hair a soft caress on Renaldo’s broad chest.

  “You’re unaccustomedly compliant today.”

  Casto made a mewling sound deep in his throat. “Well, you’re unaccustomedly caring today, so I guess it’s fine.”

  “I’m really worried, Casto. The cold seems to be getting to you.”

  The sentence was only half a joke. Renaldo was truly worried. As a child of the Plains, Casto was used to all kinds of heat, and where he came from, a cold spell was when people had to wear long-sleeved tunics at night. The biting cold of a northern winter must be a shock for him. And the worst was still to come. The blizzards had stopped, as they always did around this time of the year, but temperatures had started to drop, every day a little more.

  Since Casto already found the chill intolerable, he was in for a nasty surprise within the next few weeks. Although this was his third winter in the Valley, Casto still hadn’t got used to the cold and the annual, sudden drop in temperature was still an issue for him. What this would do to his temper was something Renaldo didn’t want to think about. He pressed a kiss on Casto’s head. “Is there anything I can do to make this better for you?”

  Casto sighed. “Since you can’t change the weather, I guess you and I have to live with the consequences. I really hate it, though. Today the sun came out and I hoped it would become a little warmer, but the opposite happened! I really don’t understand how you can bear this horrible weather!”

  “It’s not all bad. Of course it’s chilly, but winter has its nice aspects as well.”

  “Tell me one. I dare you!”

  Renaldo hesitated. He did have an idea how he could brighten Casto’s mood, although it was not without taking another risk. He was almost sure that his short-tempered slave would not try to run away from him while they were nearing the peak of the cold season. Casto was no fool. Unfortunately he wasn’t a coward either. If he sensed a chance to get away, he would definitely seize it. Casto could not run away from Renaldo, at least not for a prolonged time, but Renaldo didn’t put it beneath Casto to escape just to prove that his first escape hadn’t been a mere stroke of good luck. As much as Renaldo loved the chase, he still remembered too vividly the pain he endured when Casto was gone to even consider giving him a chance to do that again.

  Renaldo pondered this dilemma as he distracted Casto with deep kisses until he came up with the perfect solution. “How about I show you how beautiful the landscape is outside the Valley? Everything’s covered in snow, and when you let the horses run, they don’t make a sound. Also, it’s less confined, and I know how much you hate to be bound. We could try to hunt down a stag or two. It’s the season for it.”

  Abruptly, Casto sat up. His blue gaze drilled into Renaldo. “Where’s the catch, Barbarian?”

  “Does there have to be a catch?”

  Casto snorted. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’re not stupid enough to present me with such a chance. So where’s the catch? Are you going to shackle me the entire time we’re outside the Valley?”

  Renaldo chuckled. The image of Casto bound did have a certain allure. “Nothing so drastic. The two of us are going on a nice trip. I’ll even give you a bow and a hunting knife. But Lys stays here. That should ensure your return without me having to chase you down in your dreams.”

  Casto’s eyes narrowed, his expression a mixture of anger and involuntary admiration. “How sly.”

  “That’s me.” Renaldo was very pleased with himself. “You would never go anywhere without your stallion, so keeping him here is all I need to guarantee your obedience. Now, do you agree to my terms?”

  Casto felt torn. He was eager to get out of the Valley, but leaving Lys behind was a serious drawback and not only because it meant he couldn’t share this hunt with his brother. It also meant that he acknowledged the Barbarian as superior, something he tried to avoid at all costs.

  In the end, Casto’s urge to get a change of scenery won out over the calculating part of his brain. “Fine, I play by your rules, Barbarian. Don’t let it go to your head. I’m not going to make a habit out of it.”

  Renaldo grinned and pulled Casto into his embrace again. “I never expected that. We ride tomorrow.”

  THE NEXT morning, Casto and Renaldo had an early breakfast and then hurried to get everything ready for their departure. Casto was in high spirits even though he had to leave Lys behind. The cold didn’t seem to be as trying as before, and he enjoyed the reassuring weight of the hunting knife on his hip. Although Renaldo was training him, he was still not allowed to wield a weapon in the Valley, something that was among the greatest drawbacks his enslavement had brought with it.

  Two stable boys led Ghost and Demon, the horses belonging to Renaldo and his brother, out of the stables. They were already saddled and eager to start.

  Renaldo stepped next to Casto, who had his hands on Ghost’s bridle. Even though Casto rode both horses during training, Renaldo felt more comfortable when his slave was on Ghost’s back. It had something to do with his possessiveness. He had a radiant smile on his lips.

  “I’m really looking forward to this. Let’s ride.”

  Both of them mounted their horses. Once they’d left the Valley behind them, Casto breathed a deep sigh of relief.

  Renaldo regarded him with raised brows. “What was that sigh for?”

  “Somehow I was sure you’d find a reason to cancel this trip or that something would happen and we wouldn’t be able to go. I’m just glad, that’s all.”

  Flustered by Casto’s honesty, Renaldo averted his gaze. “There’s no way I would have canceled this trip. I was looking forward to it.”

  “Then we’d better enjoy it to the fullest. I would hate to make you regret your decision.”

  “As long as you don’t regret it. I’m immortal, so I’ve had my share of disappointments and know how to deal with them.”

  “Spoken like the old man you are! Now let’s go and find those stags.”

  Renaldo took the lead, and they rode briskly for about two hours until they reached the outskirts of a small forest on the way to Kwarl, the nearest city to the Valley. Renaldo dismounted Demon there and beckoned Casto to do the same. The two stallions nodded off under the cover of a huge oak tree while their riders ventured into the forest.

  Under the trees the snow wasn’t as deep as out in the open, so it was easy to navigate, and the tracks of the stags were clearly visible. It was almost too easy—locating the herd in a small clearing, selecting one of the majestic animals as a target, and then bringing it down with two well-placed arrows. Still, the rush of the chase managed to get Casto’s blood boiling. He knelt with Renaldo next to the dead stag and watched as the Barbarian slit the animal’s throat to let it bleed out. In silence they waited for the stream of life to subside, and then Renaldo spoke some ancient words, wishing the stag a good journey to the Green Lands.

  When Renaldo finished, he looked at Casto, his gray eyes burning with lust. Shuddering, Casto realized that the Barbarian was as agitated as he was.

  He didn’t resist when Renaldo grabbed him with his bloodstained hands, leaving trails of red on Casto’s clothes and over his face. The metallic scent in combination with their feral passion made him forget everything else. When Renaldo yanked his jerkin and shirt open, Casto perceived the cold as just another pleasant sensation on his heated skin.

  Renaldo kissed him fiercely while his hands wandered boldly toward Casto’s belt and opened it with frightening skill. Groaning, Casto dug his hands into Renaldo’s back. He was drowning in the Barbarian’s fiery passion, even more than usual. Just when Renaldo was getting serious, the ominous sound of a sword being drawn behind them made them both freeze. A deep, condescending voice doused their last embers of passion and put them on high alert.

  “How very nice. I don’t think anybody has ever made it so easy for us to rob them. Must
be our lucky day.”

  Casto peeked over Renaldo’s shoulder to see what they were up against. Four haggard-looking men dressed in rags, yet all armed with swords and daggers, eyed Casto and Renaldo hungrily. Casto pressed his finger four times into Renaldo’s abdomen, thus indicating the number of their opponents, then slid his hand down toward his knife, which was concealed by Renaldo’s massive torso.

  The leader of the highwaymen started to speak again. “If you would be so kind as to turn around slowly with your arms raised? Given what you were about to do, I don’t think your partner poses any threat at the moment, but we’d still appreciate it if he showed his hands as well.”

  Slowly, Renaldo raised his arms. He and Casto locked gazes. Casto smiled at him with grim determination. This was so much better than hunting stags. Renaldo felt a surge of heat swamping his body. Casto was simply too perfect to be real.

  Both of them inhaled deeply, and then Renaldo jumped sideways so quickly the highwaymen had no chance to react. Casto’s hunting knife flew through the air like a falcon and pierced the heart of the spokesman with a crunch. The leader of the robbers went down with a look of sheer disbelief in his eyes, his hands too feeble to hold the sword.

  Before the other three highwaymen could get over their shock, Renaldo reached the first and killed him with a clean stab to his neck. He grabbed the dying man’s sword and beheaded the third in one graceful motion. When confronted with the quick deaths of his companions, the fourth man tried to escape, but Casto killed him with a bowshot.

  The whole incident had taken only a few minutes. Panting, Renaldo and Casto stared at each other, each assaulted by a range of conflicting emotions. There was joy about how smoothly they acted together, how easily they had eliminated this threat to their lives.

  Casto also felt disgust about that very fact. He didn’t want to admit how natural it was to fight at the Barbarian’s side.

  Renaldo, on the other hand, was torn. He was ecstatic that Casto had so willingly fought alongside him, and yet shaken to his core when he thought how easily he could have lost his beautiful, capricious slave. To make things even more complicated, both men were swamped by a passion fueled by the rush of a good fight. Only the fear of running into even more trouble and thus endangering Casto again made Renaldo hold back from taking him. He kept Casto at arm’s length to resist temptation while he gave his orders.

  “Let’s get the stag out of here and return to the Valley as quickly as possible.” When he saw Casto’s questioning glance in the direction of the fallen highwaymen, Renaldo only shrugged. “Leave them here. They’ll make a splendid meal for the scavengers.”

  In silence, Renaldo and Casto returned to the Valley, each lost in his own thoughts while trying to ignore the throbbing in his loins. Once they were back in Renaldo’s chambers, they attacked each other like hungry wolves, burning away all their doubts and fears, their insecurities and anger, in a love that knew nothing but the will to possess the other completely.

  5. Retaliation

  CANUBIS GAZED calmly into the faces of the Emeris gathered in his chambers. Hulda sat next to her husband, Wolfstan, just caressing his arm. Aegid and Kalad talked to Renaldo; Bantu, Cornelia, and Noran were toasting with the wine Noemi had just poured them.

  Canubis sat down. It didn’t take more. Immediately there was silence; his brother and their closest counselors turned their attention to him.

  “As you know, a messenger from Tanara arrived yesterday. The Eastern Kings are finally done with Count Markon’s games. Conquering Elam was the final straw, just as we anticipated. We’ve been officially asked to conquer and destroy Kitona.”

  A hungry fire lit up the features of the Emeris. They all knew what this was really about. Kitona was one of the countries where the Good Mother had gained a foothold. It was going to be their pleasure to eradicate her followers down to the last man.

  “Of course, the count already knows. He started assembling his troops in Ki’t. The capital is heavily fortified, so it won’t be a stroll like last year. But we’re being paid exceedingly well, and we get the chance to rob the Good Mother of a great deal of followers.”

  “When do we ride?”

  Hulda asked the question. As Mother Superior to an order, she was used to organizing people, and she was responsible for getting the troops on the road. Canubis smiled at her, his amber eyes glinting dangerously. He couldn’t wait to go against this stronghold of his archenemy.

  “In three weeks.”

  Hulda nodded. The other Emeris, too, gave their consent. There was no need for discussion when the target was as compelling as Kitona. Three weeks wasn’t a lot of time to prepare, but they all were seasoned warriors and the mercenaries couldn’t wait to get back on the road. They would make it.

  “Have you sent scouts?” Aegid turned to Canubis.

  “Of course. We don’t want to run into trouble, do we? At the moment it seems as if the count really wants to face us in Ki’t. Which is making things easier.”

  They all knew Count Markon, a ruler who’d given them lucrative jobs in the past, as a man of intelligence and deviousness. It was wise to deal with him carefully. Without a doubt he’d already made plans in case he should become the target of the Pack.

  It was that worry Renaldo voiced next. “We’ve got to be careful. I don’t trust that bastard.”

  Renaldo’s perfect face was grim. He distrusted any situation that seemed too easy, especially when somebody like Markon was involved.

  His brother nodded at him. “We always are.” Canubis turned back to his Emeris. “You all know your duties. We ride in three weeks.”

  With that, their assembly was called off. The counselors left Canubis’s chambers to fulfill their tasks. Only Renaldo stayed behind, mainly to enjoy another cup of wine with his brother.

  Canubis toasted him and then focused on the topic he was most interested in. “It seems you’ve finally defeated your slave. He’s surprisingly docile lately.”

  Renaldo’s smile was sour. “That’s just an act. He’s still his old self, but now he stops to think before he opens his mouth.”

  Canubis laughed. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he suits you.”

  Renaldo furrowed his brow. Something stirred in his mind, a thought that slipped from him whenever he tried to grab it. Indignantly he shook his head, but the nagging feeling that he was missing something wouldn’t cease.

  “He has his strong points. And he’s been putting up with me for some time now.”

  “It’s going to be your fourth year.”

  “You’re keeping count?”

  “After the two of you cost me so much money? Of course. But nobody is inclined to bet on the end of your relationship anymore. Just recently Bantu said that Casto is too stubborn for that to happen.”

  Renaldo grinned. “I can confirm that.”

  “You’re going to let him fight this year?”

  Renaldo made a face that clearly showed how much he resented the idea. “Yes. He’s too talented to stay in the camp, and I owe him.”

  Canubis knew immediately what his brother was talking about. “You know it isn’t done with just that?”

  “Yes, but it’s a start. And since he knows he’s allowed to fight, his motivation has gone up.”

  “He’ll fit perfectly in the Pack.”

  Renaldo brought his cup down hard. “I won’t allow him to get into undue danger. He will fight, but certainly not on the front lines. I was thinking more about the reserves.”

  “Does he know?”

  Renaldo rolled his eyes. “We’re still talking to each other and nothing has been smashed, so no, I haven’t told him yet. It’s perfectly fine if he finds out shortly before the battle begins.”

  “You’ve got to give Casto credit where credit is due. He’s a never-ending source of entertainment. Never would I have thought that you’d allow a slave to run wild like that. I’m curious what he’ll make you do next.”

  “Shut up, brot
her, or I’ll have to beat you up.”

  Canubis laughed heartily. “In your dreams, little brother, in your dreams.”

  “WHAT’S THE matter, little thief?”

  Kalad’s amused voice pried Daran from his gloomy thoughts. With a guilty smile, he turned to his masters, who were giving him their full attention.

  “It’s just me being stupid. Please don’t mind me.”

  Aegid’s gaze darkened. “You were so lost in thought, Kalad had to address you three times. Whatever it is you’re thinking about, we do mind.”

  Blushing, Daran knelt. Ignoring the masters was one of the worst things a slave could do. That the two didn’t punish him immediately was akin to a wonder. “It’s because of the campaign. I have a bad feeling about it. The thought that something could happen to you….” He swallowed hard.

  Kalad stepped forward and pulled him up, touching Daran’s cheeks lightly. “We’ve talked about this, little thief. We’re Emeris, immortal. No harm can come to us.”

  “You can be hurt.”

  “What if I am? When I met Casto for the first time, his black demon smashed my shoulder to a pulp. It hurt, but it healed within two hours. You really don’t have to worry.” The warrior’s lips split into a suggestive smile. “The only thing you have to worry about is that we’ll be too busy to take care of you. Your precious self is going to face some empty nights.”

  Daran kissed his master’s hands. “Nights I’ll gladly endure as long as I know you’re safe.”

  “You’re so adorable! Relax, we’ve been doing this for eight hundred years. Everything will be fine, just like always.”

  Aegid started kissing Daran to prevent any further protest. Kalad, too, began touching him with skilled hands. Together they distracted him so effectively that he had no more time to think about the upcoming campaign.

  “IT SEEMS like Count Markon is really staking everything on one horse by gathering all his troops here. I don’t know whether I should admire his guts or mock his naiveté.”