by Xenia Melzer
The words reminded Sic that even though Noran had just shown him mercy, he was still far from forgiving him. He swallowed hard. “Yes, Master.”
Noran grunted. He gripped Sic’s hips harder as he started thrusting again.
THE NEXT morning, Noran visited Casto at the stables to tell him personally that he would allow Sic to make the iron.
Casto looked at him with open disgust. “This is very generous of you, Lord Noran. I do thank you.”
The smith smiled cruelly. “You should do that. For eight pieces of gold, I don’t even start working. Neither do my apprentices. You’re lucky that Sic is such an untalented loser. His work is free.”
He gave Casto back the pouch with the gold and enjoyed the anger sparking in his eyes. That would teach the arrogant idiot to go against an Emeris. And because he was in such a good mood, Noran decided to top it off.
“Please take a look at the traitor’s back today. I’m planning to resume his beating starting tomorrow, and I’d love to have your opinion. We don’t want that piece of trash thinking we’re not in agreement.”
“Of course, Lord Noran. How thoughtful of you.”
Noran had to give it to Casto, his face was completely devoid of expression. If he hadn’t seen the angry sparks in his eyes just a moment ago, he would have doubted if Casto wasn’t still angry with Sic. But now he was sure the arrogant little twerp was interested in the well-being of the traitor.
He was going to show the two presumptuous young men that nobody went against Lord Noran, master smith and an Emeris in the Pack for almost two hundred years, without paying the due price.
In silent fury, Casto watched the bulky figure of the smith retreat from the stables. And all the while he cursed under his breath in Ummanian. “That damn bastard. I’m starting to lose my patience with him. Beware, Lord Noran. I am Prince Castolus. I do not forget nor will I forgive.”
WHEN SIC arrived at the stables sometime later, Casto took him into one of the tack rooms, closed the door, and regarded him critically.
“I want you to tell me the truth, Sic. What price did you have to pay to be allowed to make the iron for me?”
Sic lowered his gaze. “It’s all right, Casto. I wanted it.”
“Sic, please. It’s enough that Renaldo and Noran think they can take me for a fool. You’re my only friend, so please, don’t do that to me. I already know that Renaldo threatened you and that is the reason why you’re no longer telling me about the things Noran does to you. But I’m not blind. I can see how much you’re suffering, and I know Noran has used my request to play one of his games. So, what did he ask of you?”
Sic looked wide-eyed at his friend, unsure what to do. Obviously, they’d all underestimated Casto once again. Hesitantly, he started to speak. “My master hinted at the fine old tradition of branding slaves, and I assumed he wanted me to wear his. I really thought he would brand me when he held the iron in his hands, but he didn’t do it. I think he enjoyed my fear. He certainly was pleased with the way I showed my gratitude.”
“Holy Mothers! Sic, I’m so sorry! That’s entirely my fault. Me and my damn pride. Believe me, I never wanted, never thought it possible, that Noran would do something like this to you. I anticipated he would try to stall me to show me his power, but I never thought he’d use you like this.”
Sic managed a weak smile. “It’s fine, Casto. It gave me the chance to pay off some of my debt toward you. He said he wouldn’t make your brand because this kind of work was unworthy of a master. And he refused to let somebody else do it. He knew it was important to you, and I was foolish enough to show him that I cared about you. If I manage not to annoy him too badly during the next two weeks, then I might even be allowed to witness when you swear loyalty to Lord Renaldo. That’s definitely worth it.”
Without saying a word, Casto hugged his friend. His voice was a raw, emotional whisper at Sic’s ear. “There’s no debt to pay to me, not any longer, my friend. Please, never think something like this is necessary. I’m glad to know you, happy and grateful to have you in my life again, and I swear to you, Noran’s going to pay for what he’s done. It may take some time, but if I’ve learned anything in my life, it’s that it always pays off to wait for the perfect opportunity. Your suffering won’t go unpunished.”
Sic sobbed. “Please, Casto, our god is going to kill me if he hears you talking like that.”
“Don’t worry, Sic. I know very well. I’m not going to give Renaldo reason to hurt you, but I’m going to seize my chance should it present itself. And now let me pamper you for a bit. You look terrible.”
Hiccupping, Sic leaned against the wall, glad that he had a single friend in the Valley. “It does hurt a lot. Here.” He indicated his heart. “I’m not sure how much more I’m able to take.”
“You won’t be alone. I swear.”
AFTER HE had tended to Sic and ordered him to take some rest, Casto went to see Aegid and Kalad. In the late afternoon, the warriors could be found at their chambers since they hated the cold as much as Casto did. Now that he knew his gift for Renaldo would be finished in time, Casto had to take care of the presentation, and for that he needed the help of the brothers.
After knocking at the impressive oak door, he heard Kalad’s voice, careless as ever. “Daran, cutie pie, go and look who it is!”
Only a short time later, the door opened to reveal the young man who was Casto’s best—albeit only—pupil at the stables.
Daran’s black hair was hanging in a braid down his back as usual. His dark brown eyes brimmed with intelligence. “Hello, Daran. Nice to see you.”
The young man, who had come to the Valley one year after Casto, but who had assimilated a lot faster and more smoothly than his capricious teacher, bowed elegantly. “Casto, welcome.”
Casto entered and flashed the slave a friendly smile. Daran was a very easygoing young man, who he barely saw beyond lessons because Aegid and Kalad kept him in their chambers most of the time. They watched jealously over their thief’s acquaintances and preferred to keep him hidden.
Casto could understand them up to a point since Daran was a very agreeable and charming person who wasn’t aware of his own charisma. He was simply friendly by nature, although fate hadn’t been too favorable with him until he came to the Valley.
Once every day he went to the warriors’ training hall to work out, but during that time he was unapproachable because the program the desert brothers had given him to form his body to their liking left no time for breaks.
Casto wasn’t sure what the warriors were planning for the young man and hadn’t dared to ask either. Although Kalad in particular had been very open toward him since the battle of Ki’t, there were still things Casto deemed too private to discuss with the brothers. At any rate, Daran didn’t seem to be unhappy.
Kalad smiled, genuinely pleased to see Casto. “What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”
Casto grinned. “The warmth.”
Kalad laughed heartily. It was an old joke between them, but one with a sad background. “Renaldo still doesn’t understand how to use a coal pan or the chimney, does he?”
Casto shuddered. Not that it wasn’t warm in the Barbarian’s rooms—Renaldo was anxious to create an atmosphere that agreed with his lover—but his interpretation of warm was that of a man who’d grown up in the North. Like Aegid and Kalad, Casto was a child of the south and of the sun. Before Renaldo had brought him to the Valley, Casto hadn’t understood that for many people the word winter meant they had to wrap themselves in the furs of dead animals. His first snow had come as a shock. It never snowed in Ummana.
As children of the desert, Kalad and Aegid had the same problem, which meant they were holed up in their chambers most of the winter, heating the rooms so much they could’ve easily gone naked.
Casto sighed in bliss. “He’ll never understand. He thinks I’m effeminate.”
“Don’t fret it. If you’re effeminate, we are as well. We’ve been living here for s
o long, but we haven’t gotten used to the cold yet. So, why are you giving us the honor of your visit?”
“I’m here to ask a favor of you two.”
Kalad’s eyes sparked with interest. Casto as a supplicant was unusual and aroused his interest. “Then my brother should hear it as well. Daran! Get Aegid. Tell him we have a guest. Then you can pour us some wine, do you get me?”
The young man bowed low. “Yes, my lord.”
Proudly, Kalad watched his slave retreat. “Isn’t he wonderful?”
Casto coughed slightly. From his time in Ummana, he was used to people talking about others as if they were things. Not for nothing were the Twin Cities the center of business on the continent. While he was still very young, Casto himself had made some nice profits in the trade of high-class slaves for the amusement of the wealthy. Before he’d become property himself, he had never given much thought to how it felt to be a possession—it was just something that happened everywhere. Now that he had experienced what it was like firsthand, he couldn’t return to the same loftiness Kalad showed. Especially since Daran, because of the horse training, was closer to Casto than the rest of the faceless slaves in the Valley.
“He’s easy on the eyes, if you mean that. And he’s making remarkable progress in the saddle.”
Kalad laughed. “I was talking about his tight ass. Every time I look at him, I get the urge to bed him, which is rare, even for me.”
Casto concentrated on his nails; the topic was awkward for him. He knew Daran served both warriors between the sheets, but whenever he tried to imagine it, his fantasy abandoned him. He could only guess how much stamina was required to satisfy two masters instead of one. Seen like that, it was a small wonder that Daran was able to stand on his own two feet during the day. Before his thoughts could run further in this disturbing direction, Aegid entered the room, followed by Daran, who filled three cups of wine.
After Daran handed them to Kalad, Aegid, and Casto, he waited with his head bowed, ready to obey further instructions.
Kalad patted his backside. “You can leave now, Daran. Strip and go to the bedroom. We’ll join you as soon as we’re done here.”
The young man bowed again and vanished soundlessly through one of the doors that branched off from the main room.
“So, Casto, what can we do for you?” Aegid looked happily at Casto. He was still fascinated that Renaldo had managed to bind this stunning, arrogant young man.
He had been sure those two would be at each other’s throats within weeks and that their relationship would go the same way as all the others Renaldo ever had. But Casto had stayed.
Casto defied a man Aegid wouldn’t provoke if his life depended on it; he fought with a warrior who was infamous for cruelly punishing his enemies and those who dared to oppose him, and he bore the love of a god who, before Casto, had burned so many to ash. And he did it all without seeming conscious of it.
“I want to give the Barbarian a wedding gift, and for that I need your help. As you know, the exchange takes place right after the vows, and then everything has to be ready. I need to rely on you. I need two men who are stronger than me to hold me down.”
“What in the name of the Holy Mothers are you planning?” Kalad’s voice was lively with interest.
Casto couldn’t suppress a smile. “I’m planning to give the Barbarian the most precious thing I own—myself.”
Aegid whistled lowly. “How are you going to do that?”
“I’ve designed a branding iron, which I’ll give to him so that he can brand me.”
Silence.
Kalad was the first to regain his speech. “Casto, this is madness. Romantic madness, but madness. Do you have the slightest idea what kind of pain you’ll be facing—and on your wedding day, to boot?”
“Yes.” Casto’s voice didn’t waver.
Aegid’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think this has anything to do with romantic feelings, am I right, Casto? You want to show the world you’re Renaldo’s equal, isn’t that so?”
Casto’s face turned into an expressionless mask that scarily resembled his master’s. “And if it is?”
“Then I understand you very well. What do you want us to do?” Aegid’s voice was soft. He did understand only too well, and his respect for Casto had just gone up a few more notches. It took guts to allow yourself to be mutilated like that, and in front of an audience as well. And it was pretty shrewd to turn an obvious gesture of subjugation into the exact opposite.
Casto definitely wasn’t an idiot, and it paid to never forget that.
“I need a coal pan that deserves the name to heat up the steel quickly. You should own something suitable, am I right? And then I need your strength to keep me down. I won’t use ropes—that would be inappropriate at such a moment. Do you think you can restrain me?”
The two warriors shared a long look. Then Aegid said, “Yes. You can count on us. We won’t let go of you, no matter what happens.”
A beaming smile brightened Casto’s features. He suddenly seemed a lot younger and more relaxed than only a few minutes ago. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You’re taking a load off my shoulders. Oh, and I probably don’t have to tell you that this is a surprise, so not a word to anybody.”
Aegid grinned. “Just leave it to us.”
Casto got up from his seat, thanked the brothers once again, and left their chambers to return to the cold of the stables.
Kalad watched him go, lost in thought. “He’s going to be a good, strong leader. And dangerous.”
Aegid nodded. “I find it harder and harder to believe he’s a mere merchant’s son. He’s way too cunning for that. Do you think Renaldo knows?”
“If not, then he at least has a suspicion. He’s no idiot either.”
“No, but he is madly in love.”
Kalad glanced at his brother. “He’s found his heart, of course he’s in love. Do you remember what it was like when Canubis finally found Noemi? He grinned like a fool for ten years straight.”
“Oh yes, sweet love. It turns all of us into idiots.”
“Speaking of which, I think there’s a pretty, very willing slave waiting in our bedroom. I’m sure he’s already feeling bored.”
Aegid’s eyes betrayed his hunger. “Then we should keep him occupied. We don’t want him to get ideas, do we?”
Laughing, Kalad followed him into their shared bedroom.
Daran was waiting for them, naked and indeed eager, his brown eyes full of devotion for his masters while they got ready for a night of passion.
THE CLOSER the day of the wedding approached, the more insufferable Renaldo became.
It all started when he got it into his head to ask Casto at every given opportunity for the phrases he had to recite during the ceremony. Then he gave the order that nobody was allowed to train with the prince anymore so that he wouldn’t be injured or overworked. The last strain was when Renaldo commanded Casto to stop riding.
Until then, Casto had shown remarkable patience with his future husband’s whims, but now he let his anger get the better of him. “Forget it! I surely won’t sit around doing nothing for the next five days while everybody around me starts going crazy.”
“Casto, that was no request. It was an order.”
“To be frank, Barbarian, I don’t care. I have a tough training schedule, and I’m going through with it.”
Renaldo was getting angry as well. “Watch your mouth, slave. In case you have forgotten, you’re mine and you do as I say.”
“No, I won’t! I’m done with your irrational fears. In case you have forgotten, I’m a prince. Knowing complicated phrases by heart comes as natural to me as breathing. I’m absolutely fluent in your language and can probably speak it even better than some of your mercenaries. There’s absolutely no reason to distrust me! Stop finding problems where there are none.”
Growling, Renaldo grabbed his future mate by the shoulders, pressed him against the wall, and held him in an iron grip. “I’d
love to beat you for your irreverence, slave. Thinking about it, I’d say you deserve to taste the whip.”
“Go on, don’t hold back! Whip me, but stop pestering me with ridiculous orders.”
Rendered speechless by such cheekiness, Renaldo stared at his unruly lover, then suddenly bent forward and kissed him.
As if he had been waiting for it, Casto snuggled against him, his tongue fighting Renaldo’s intent, his hands stroking Renaldo’s back hungrily. It was like the beginning of their relationship, when intercourse had always been a fight for dominance, bearable only because of the all-consuming passion they felt for each other.
But Casto was no longer an inexperienced youth. Almost five years of sharing the Barbarian’s bed had turned him into a skilled lover who was able to stand his ground against Renaldo. And thus the fight was more fierce, more brutal, and more merciless than anything they had done before. In the end, Casto only submitted to his god because of Renaldo’s untiring stamina. When it became obvious that Casto would bow down, Renaldo used his advantage to drive the young man to the brink of exhaustion. He made love to him until Casto was totally submissive to his master’s wishes.
Only when he was sure his lover wouldn’t challenge him any more did Renaldo allow himself to find relief. Then he carried the now-obedient Casto into the bathroom, slipped into the water with him, pulled him close, and kissed him gently. “I’m sorry, my own. I’m aware that I’m telling you that way too often at the moment, but that doesn’t make it less true. I hope I haven’t hurt you?”
Casto leaned his head against Renaldo’s shoulder. “No, the orgasms were great as always.”
His tone was crisp. It was obvious that he wasn’t pleased with the way things had gone.
Renaldo caressed his arm. “I know I’m making a fool of myself, but I’m terribly nervous.”
Casto turned to him in surprise. “Why? You’re a god. This whole ceremony is basically held to celebrate your glory. There’s no way you can do anything wrong.”
