Love and the Stubborn

by Xenia Melzer

  Without her noticing it, the day passed and night descended on the camp. The noise from the battle had ceased. Noemi was exhausted and longing for a break and something to eat. Before she had the chance to sit down for a moment, Lord Canubis entered the tent with a beautiful warrior at his side. Both men were covered in blood and dirt, but it only made Canubis more awe-inspiring. His companion was so perfect that the dirt only enhanced his beauty.

  The Wolf of War’s gaze fell on Noemi, and with a gesture, he called her closer. Noemi obeyed with her eyes cast down.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He sounded tired, which wasn’t surprising after a day like that.

  “I’ve been looking around the camp and found this place by chance. It seemed as if I could be of help, so I stayed. I hope I didn’t do anything wrong, Master.”

  “No, of course not. I’m just surprised. You didn’t mention that you’re a healer.”

  “I’d say she’s a lot more than that.”

  The calm voice made Noemi flinch. Behind her stood a small, tired-looking man with hair the color of sand and big, friendly eyes. She had seen him several times during the day. He was obviously the master of the infirmary since the other healers obeyed his commands.

  Canubis watched him with narrowed eyes. “What are you implying, Bantu?”

  “That your prisoner is a snake witch, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Frightened, Noemi staggered away from the gazes of the Wolf of War and his companions. Her heart beat so fast she was afraid it would burst at any time. As unhappy as her life had been so far, she didn’t want to die yet; she was too young to give up. “Please, don’t kill me. I’m not evil. I just wanted to help.”

  Canubis’s bloodied hands grabbed her upper arms. “Calm down. You won’t be harmed. Are you really a snake witch?”

  “Yes. The last one.”

  “That’s a surprise. We thought the last snakes had left this world years ago.” The voice of the good-looking warrior was as charming as his looks.

  Canubis seemed satisfied. “And what a happy coincidence that she found her way into the Pack.”

  “You’re not mad?” Noemi couldn’t believe it, but if anything, the warlord seemed happy.

  “A little, because you lied to me. But I can understand your fears. You were afraid I would burn you as a witch, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, since you follow the Holy Mothers. I thought you disapproved of any kind of magic.”

  The perfect one was amused.

  “Not compulsively. We’re against the forcible use of magic against the rules of this world as the followers of the Good Mother practice it. We don’t threaten those who are blessed by right of birth.”

  “Then I’d like to apologize for my lie.”

  Canubis placed his arm around her small shoulders. “You’ve already made up for your mistake. But you do look like you’re in dire need of a break. Come with me, and I’ll take care of you.”

  Relieved and still surprised, Noemi followed the Wolf of War to his tent, where he first bathed himself, and then he treated her to a delicious meal. When their eyes met over the table laden with food, the last snake witch had already fallen irreversibly for the powerful warlord.

  ON THE night after her wedding to the Wolf of War, Noemi was visited by Ana-Isara.

  The goddess met her in the Green Lands, Ana-Isara’s original home. Next to Noemi, Shaa-Azar, her inseparable companion, made soothing sounds.

  The goddess bowed to the reptile. “It has been some time since I last met one of your kind. I’m truly honored and highly pleased.”

  Shaa-Azar’s neck frill opened to show its full glory. She, too, was happy about this meeting.

  Ana-Isara took Noemi’s hands in her own. “I welcome you, heart of my son. He had to wait for you for so long, but now you are united again.”

  Shyly, Noemi returned the gaze from the black eyes. “I thank you, my lady.”

  A shining smile brightened the features of the Empress of the Dead. “Come to me, so that I can welcome you to my family. You are my son’s heart, and from this day on, you are under the protection my sister and I offer to you.”

  Noemi curtsied deeply to show the goddess her thanks, and then she let herself be kissed. She was only able to bear the pain because Shaa-Azar was with her.

  3. Love’s Death

  “WHAT HAVE you gotten for me?”

  Greedily, Damon grabbed the small package Sic held out to him. When he opened it, he couldn’t suppress an evil snicker.

  “This is perfect. You did a good job, doggie.”

  Sic kept his gaze averted in desperation. Now he was truly damned, and nobody could ever take the weight of that guilt from him. “I did what you wanted me to do. Please leave my master alone.”

  “But of course. You can leave.”

  Damon’s thoughtful gaze followed the quickly retreating figure of Sic. Next to him, Assani emerged from the shadows.

  Damon said, “I guess it’s better if we see to it that he doesn’t get any ideas in the next few days. We don’t want to risk him spilling anything to Casto, do we?”

  “What should I do?” Assani was anxious to make Sic miserable. It was one of her best features, her will to trouble others just for the fun of it.

  “It will be enough if Noran thinks that his apprentice has been tardy. He abhors laziness and punishes it brutally.”

  “That shouldn’t pose too great a problem. I’m on it.”

  “Assani?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t lose concentration now. It’s still three days until the new moon. Three days till we triumph.”

  “I know, Damon. You can count on me.”

  FOR THE last time, Renaldo went over the preparations he had made for this evening. Since their last argument, his relationship with Casto had become as tense as at the beginning. It had hit him hard that his lover thought he was just a distraction for his master. Of course the sex was an important part of their relationship, but Renaldo was willing to let go of it to keep Casto at his side. To prove it to him, he had planned something special for that night.

  First they would eat all of Casto’s favorite foods, followed by an entire plate of honey cake. Then Renaldo had found a special book for his lover, which they would read together. He only hoped that was enough to pacify the complicated young man.

  A timid knocking disrupted his preparations. Slightly annoyed at the disturbance, he asked the guest to come in. The woman was a slave he didn’t know. She was quite easy on the eyes, with a beautiful but cold face, long dark hair, and a voluptuous body. She kneeled in front of him, her gaze on the ground.

  “What do you want?”

  Renaldo wanted to put an end to this as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t be long until Casto returned. The woman was whimpering.

  “I’m here to beg your forgiveness, Master.”

  “Forgiveness? What for? What have you done?”

  A hysterical sob escaped her lips. “I swear I didn’t know! And he was so charming!”

  Renaldo had had enough. He didn’t have time for this kind of game. “Listen to me, slave. Either you tell me what the matter is right now or I’ll leave you to the overseers to beat it out of you, understood?”

  Trembling, the woman cowered on the ground. “Please have mercy, Master. If I’d known that you didn’t have a clue, I’d have never done it with Casto. Never.”

  Renaldo froze. “What are you talking about?”

  The slave was now talking so fast it was like a torrent flowing from her lips. She could obviously feel how angry he’d become. “Two years ago he started flirting with me. I was flattered because he’s really good-looking. When he asked for more, I wasn’t averse, and he was your favorite as well. Before you went to Ki’t, I found out that you never knew about our little trysts. I wanted to end it, but Casto asked me to give him some time. He gave me this cloak pin as a token of his affection.”

  With trembling hands, the slave held up a g
olden pin Renaldo recognized immediately—one of the many treasures he had given Casto during the last four years that Casto had neglected. Obviously on purpose.

  “When you returned, he told me that he was free now and could do whatever he liked. But I can’t take it any longer. You’re my god. I cannot lie to you. I’m so sorry.”

  Dazed, Renaldo stared at the whining woman at his feet. All of a sudden, so many details about Casto made perfect sense. The little bastard had lulled him into a sense of security, had lied to him and betrayed him, and Renaldo had fallen for it, taken in by a pair of glinting blue eyes and a beautiful body.

  But that was the past. He clenched his fists in anger. Casto would find out this very evening what it meant to invoke the wrath of the Angel of Death.

  On the ground, Assani had to concentrate not to start laughing. The heat in the room told her even more clearly than the tension in the bastard’s body that the plan had worked. When he spoke now, his voice was strained and hardly audible.

  “Get lost! I don’t want to see you again.”

  Assani hurried to obey. She had no inclination to face the rage of the Angel of Death.

  She would leave that to Casto.

  THE FIRST thing Casto noticed when he entered his master’s chambers was the unnatural heat. Usually Renaldo didn’t bother with heating because the cold didn’t faze him as much as it did Casto. One more thing they would never agree on.

  He closed the door and was grabbed by strong hands at the same moment. Before Casto could get over his surprise, a blow hit him. Casto knew immediately that the Barbarian was serious: his fist had smacked Casto’s chin, and for a moment he felt dizzy. He shook his head to regain his bearings and was just in time to block the next blow Renaldo aimed at him.

  “What is wrong with you?” Casto dodged another blow and landed a punch on Renaldo’s jaw.

  The pain seemed to distract the Barbarian because he actually hesitated with his fists hanging in midair.

  Renaldo’s voice came out as a hiss. “You dare ask me that? This time, you’ve gone too far. You will pay!”

  The next blow landed on Casto’s ribcage and drove the air out of his lungs. He staggered sideways, lost his balance, and was just in time to catch his fall with his right hand, narrowly escaping the vicious kick Renaldo aimed at him. When Renaldo moved forward to kick him again, Casto rolled out of the way and used his legs to swipe him off his feet. He rose into a half crouch to lunge at the Barbarian, but Renaldo was faster and caught Casto around the waist. Again they went down in a tangle of limbs. By then, Casto had abandoned his confusion about Renaldo’s strange behavior and had gone straight to furious. Knowing that Renaldo was stronger, he tried to land as many blows as possible.

  Renaldo was seething. How dare Casto defy him and fight back when he was the one who had wronged Renaldo? Something inside of him snapped. The tight restraints he kept on his inner beast crumbled as it reared its ugly head. On a level so primal it was virtually devoid of humanity, Renaldo understood that Casto was his and his alone. The young man had no right to look at anybody else, let alone touch them.

  The beast wanted to punish Casto, eager to show the world that it could do to him whatever it pleased, simply because it was so strong. Nobody had a right to oppose it, least of all the slave who was glaring at him with open hatred.

  “And this is why I hate being with you so much.” Casto spit the words out as if they left a bad aftertaste in his mouth. “Just because you feel like it, I have to put up with your violence. I hate you, Barbarian. I really do.”

  The spiteful words were enough to send the beast into a greater rage.

  Renaldo felt his fire blaze. He only had moments before he lost even the last shreds of control he still clung to. When that happened, Casto was dead. The thought made Renaldo shiver in fear despite his anger.

  He lunged forward and knocked Casto unconscious.

  The beast was not happy about that. It wanted to see the pain in Casto’s eyes when it punished him, wanted to feel Casto’s body tremble in fear when Casto finally understood what kind of power he’d challenged. Seeing Casto’s prone form on the floor was not enough. Renaldo grabbed Casto’s head to see if there was a chance to wake him, but the young man hung limp in his arms.

  Knowing it would take some time until Casto woke up, Renaldo let go of Casto’s head and directed his fury toward the room.

  He burned the logs in the fireplace to cinders, and when that was not nearly enough, he directed the blaze to the lounges, the carpet, and the chairs. When every wooden item was nothing but ashes, he concentrated on the weapons on the wall. Under his power they turned cherry-red and then started to melt. The liquid metal left a smoldering trail on the stone walls before pooling on the wooden floor, destroying the planks. While he witnessed the power of his flame, Renaldo felt the beast inside him calm down, still agitated, but no longer out of control. When he was sure he had regained a semblance of restraint, he turned to Casto.

  Casto was still unconscious. A lump the size of a hen’s egg had formed on his temple. Blood trickled from his slack mouth, and more dripped onto the floor from a wound Renaldo couldn’t see.

  Renaldo felt like somebody had dropped a bowl of burning coal inside his chest. The pain made him realize how much he cared for Casto. If he didn’t love him, then Casto’s betrayal wouldn’t hurt so badly.

  In a fresh rush of anger, Renaldo ripped Casto’s clothes open. He stared at the studs he had given the traitor, and their sparkle seemed to mock him. It was all he could do not to rip the jewelry out, and he wasn’t too careful when he removed them.

  Suddenly, Renaldo was overwhelmed by disgust. He didn’t want the traitor to remain there, in his chambers, which Casto had sullied more than enough. Renaldo didn’t even want him to remain in the Valley. Casto had to be taken far away, where his presence couldn’t faze Renaldo anymore and where his death—for that was what he deserved for his treachery—would no longer be in Renaldo’s hands.

  He called for two overseers to carry the almost-lifeless body to the dungeons. He sent another slave to Noemi to explain everything and to ask her to heal Casto enough that he would survive transportation to the mines.

  Empty and burned out, Renaldo sagged to the ground, sat in the pool of blood, and leaned his head against the metal-spattered wall. He inhaled the scent of his lover that lingered in the air like a last, cynical farewell, and stoically bore the all-consuming pain that rushed through his mind in crashing waves.

  WITH A shrill whinny, Lysistratos tore at the door of his stall. The wood reinforced with steel groaned under the strain but withstood him. The stallion turned around, his flinty hooves crashed against the walls, and he bit into the iron bars that capped the top of the wood. The stable boys kept a safe distance from the rampaging demon, unsure what they should do. They couldn’t understand why the usually relaxed stallion had suddenly gone crazy.

  They didn’t know what Lys knew, didn’t feel the pain he was enduring as his brother was hurt both physically and mentally.

  The link to Casto’s mind inside Lys was getting weaker, buried under an avalanche of agony. When Lys thought about what Renaldo had done to his brother so far, his rage doubled. Again he crashed against the walls, but in vain. Not even Lys’s exceptional strength could free him from that prison. His shrill screams resounded through the stables and were heard all over the Valley, but they brought no consequences.

  Then Lys fell silent.

  Casto was gone. Lys couldn’t feel his brother anymore, and given the blow to his head, Lys, Emperor of the Storms, assumed that Casto was no longer part of this world.

  Lys stood stock-still, a terrible void growing inside him, a void he had never known before. Even when he had still roamed the world alone, a newly born creature of chaos in orderly space, he hadn’t felt so lonely.

  His brother was gone, his anchor in this world. Deep down, at the bottom of the numbing despair Lys felt, the wish for revenge stirred. At that moment it wa
s still too weak to take form, tamed by shock and grief, but soon it would rise, cold and clear. Then the sons of the Holy Mothers would pay the price for their hubris.

  The black stallion, the Emperor of the Storms, the child of chaos, didn’t move. Like a statue, Lys stood in his stall, ready to rain death and destruction on the Valley.

  SLOWLY, CASTO emerged from the darkness he had fallen into. He felt rough stone under his body and knew without opening his eyes that he was in the dungeons. The memory of how he’d gotten there and why he was enduring such terrible pain in his head and in his side returned in fragments. Renaldo, beside himself with rage as Casto had never seen him before. Their fight, the insults, and then… darkness. He shuddered. Never would he have thought the Barbarian would hurt him so brutally.

  It was Casto’s own fault for trusting him. He really should have known better.

  Cool hands touched his forehead, a familiar tingling ran through his body, and the pain subsided. Casto opened his eyes. Noemi’s face was serious and distant.

  “I thank you, my lady.”

  Her expressive green eyes darkened. “I’m not doing this for you. For all I care, you could rot down here.”

  Surprised by the unusually violent outburst, Casto retreated. “What are you talking about, my lady?”

  “You know that full well, you miserable piece of shit! He trusted you! I trusted you! How could you?”

  “I haven’t got the slightest clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Ha! I don’t believe you, Casto. I don’t believe anything you’re telling me. The only good thing is that we now know your true colors, and this time you won’t be able to soften Renaldo’s heart again. Tomorrow you’ll go into the mines, and then we’ll see how long you’ll survive there.”

  The hatred in Noemi’s voice startled Casto even more than the news of what would happen to him. Desperately, he held out his hands.

  “Please, my lady. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. Please tell me.”