I shouldn't be in a relationship anyway, not after Sarene, and Tash doesn't like permanent. I'm only caught up in him because he looks good, feels even better, and I've never been with anyone like him. It's just because he's a man who's paid attention to me in a way I wanted to experience, but was always too scared to ask for. He's answering a question, not changing my life forever.
What he felt was infatuation, just infatuation. And like everything else, infatuation died.
Chapter Five
Was this considered permissible by the rules of their casual relationship or had Mayr overstepped the boundaries?
Over the last fifteen days he and Tash had spent time together, mostly drinking at the tavern, walking around the estate or temple, and meeting for the occasional, understated sexual encounter every couple of nights. Nothing permanent or deeply involved, just two men enjoying each other's company, talking, and having a laugh at no one's expense but their own.
This was different.
Mayr stared down the length of the half-harvested field toward the barn, watching Tash's hands wave erratically as he spoke. Seated on a wooden chair beside Renett, Mayr's mother, Tash appeared immersed in recounting an exciting story, his wide, boyish smile apparent even from where Mayr worked with Estara. At Tash's feet sat three dark-haired children, their small bodies close to Renett's long chair that supported her blanketed, outstretched legs. Efae, Estara's five-year-old son, gaped at Tash, his widened grey eyes threatening to pop from his head onto the yellowed grass. Seeing only the back of Dayla and Alith's heads, Mayr could not tell what they thought, but from the way Alith scooted closer to Tash, he supposed they were just as captivated.
"Well, I'd say he's worth keeping," Estara said, wiping sweat from her forehead. She sighed and readjusted the blue rag tied around her head, keeping her black bangs from falling into her blue-grey eyes as she worked. "Not like this thing. I should've just taken Loftin's handkerchief. It was hanging right there, in his pocket. I could've stolen it."
"Like he wouldn't have noticed you had it." Mayr crouched beside her, pulling on a fistful of leaves with one hand. He used the trowel in his other hand to dig at the red earth, still moist from a light rain. "You're not exactly the fastest thinker around, are you?"
Estara punched his shoulder. "You are so annoying. Can I have a different brother, please? I'd even take a sister."
"Not that she'd like you any better." Mayr yanked the cluster of dark purple and yellow vegetables out of the ground. Most of them were large and round as draysa tubers should be, and none of them were rotten. He tossed the plant onto the pile behind him and wiped his hands on his brown work pants, the rough fabric caked in drying mud. As Estara uprooted another draysa plant, he tightened the tie keeping his hair back. The strands clung to his wet neck and naked back, only one of the hazards of working the farm. Why had he not braided it or had Estara pin it up like she always threatened?
Because Tash likes playing with it. Once more, Mayr cast a glance toward Tash. Caught in a laugh that shook her body, Renett hugged her waist with one hand and swatted Tash's shoulder playfully. Her dark hair had escaped its bun under her straw hat and hung in curls around her softly rounded face.
"Well, would you look at that," Estara muttered, sitting back on her legs. "He's gotten her to laugh. Now he's really worth keeping; approved by both children and Mother."
But was it too much? Did it resemble a committed relationship more than it should? He had brought Tash to meet the family, partake in dinner and chatter, and accompany Mayr on the carriage ride to and from the farm.
The situation felt wrong, as though he pushed for more, disregarding their agreement.
Mayr peeled his gaze away, redirecting it to the others in the large, mixed field. His father and Teneth, Estara's dark-haired husband, hacked the remainder of the tall, yellow stalks of treelike grass, careful not to cut themselves on the woody, hollow stems. Mayr and Loftin had done the rest earlier that morning, leaving only a small patch, mostly for their father's sake. Malary had refused their offer to do it all, scolding them with his gruff voice and grey glare. Now, while Mayr and Estara pulled draysa on one side of the field, Loftin and his wife, Orlee, harvested heavy ears of the dark brown kolal plants on the other. Short with a tiny frame, Orlee had to stand on her toes to bring the thick plants down until she could yank the ears off. To Loftin's credit, she rarely had to, not when he cut the plants down before she could try.
Tash had taken on the role of staying with Renett and the children. While Estara's daughter, Dayla, was eight years old and had already assisted with the harvest by collecting herbs, the remaining jobs were beyond her abilities. Everything else was too tall, too heavy, or too dangerous. The same applied to Alith, Loftin's seven-year-old son, who had managed to limit his usually frequent, loud outbursts while helping to tie hay bundles to be stored in the barn over the winter. To Mayr's relief, Alith remained calm rather than making Tash chase after him, something Alith would never have tried if Renett, alone, had been taking care of them.
Instead, Mayr spared his mother the responsibility, trading it for meagre entertainment and social contact. She seldom had visitors besides the wives and sisters of the other farmers and the occasional merchant she knew from the village. Although the farm was not too far from the village, it was difficult for her to get there. Never could she go alone; a caretaker was always required. Given his father was the only one available most days, they did not go often. The farm required as much of Malary's attention as he wanted to give his wife. Since the farm was their livelihood, the farm won nearly every time.
None of it dampened Renett's faith. Even though she would never walk again, she believed the Goddesses would provide for their family and give her the strength to overcome every challenge. Love and concern for her well-being were the initial reasons Mayr had asked Tash to join him at the farm. Rarely did she attend Temple, settling for the well-lit and diligently tended altar at home. Nor did she ask the Temple to send a priest or priestess to the farm, always stating it would be an inconvenience.
With much humility but no regret, he had seized the chance to provide her a portion of what she had missed. Albeit small, it was something. Tash had agreed, his tone never wavering from its comforting gentleness. He had even appeared at the Dahe estate before dawn, just to ensure he was present when Mayr left well after sunrise. Since they arrived, Tash had been every bit the priest Mayr expected, telling stories and offering blessings on everything and everyone. Almost every corner of the house had been blessed, and the scent of cleansing herbs still filled the rooms.
Tash had also charmed at least half the family. What Malary thought of him, Mayr did not know, especially since his father rarely spoke to priests. Though Malary appeared pleased to find Renett enjoying herself, suggesting Tash was a welcome addition. From what he could see, Tash took it in stride, laughing and being his pleasant self.
Except for the hint of concern in Tash's eyes and the glint of trepidation hacking Mayr's doubts. Having stared into those eyes for long moments during their time together, he knew something was coming. The duties of a priest were not the reason, given how experienced Tash was. No, it was something between the two of them. Mayr recalled seeing the same look several times on the faces of his lovers.
Right before they left him.
Was Tash seeing someone else? They had agreed to keep things simple. Their arrangement did not preclude Tash from pursuing a relationship with anyone else. While the idea did not sit well with Mayr, he had never demanded Tash be his alone. They slept together—or, rather played at it, relying on their hands and mouths to please one another before parting for the night—but that was it. Although his infatuation was not yet spent, perhaps Tash's was. Or maybe someone else was better at keeping his attention.
You still haven't been in me, even though I've been willing. You haven't let me inside you, either, always turning down my offers to try. Have you found someone who knows what it's like to take it all th
e way? Gotten bored with me?
The thought turned Mayr's stomach. He always knew how to sour a good situation.
"Hey." Estara poked Mayr's arm. "Sun getting to you or are you just smitten?"
Mayr blinked, refocusing on her. "What?"
"You're staring a hole into your friend there. Shall I dunk your head in the water trough?"
"Try it and I'll drown you." Mayr shoved her back gently, just enough to tip her before she caught herself on one hand. "Actually, I should do that anyway. I'm sure you owe me for something." He threw a handful of tangled, shriveled roots past her.
"Well that was mature."
"You know me, always the model of eldernality."
"I'm certain that's not a word."
"Is now. I managed to say it, didn't I?"
Estara broke ground with her trowel. "Please, don't ever teach my children." She lowered her head, stray strands of black hair peeking out from under the rag. "So thanks, by the way. I'd say you've made Orlee and me some pretty coins. I don't know what to spend it on first."
"What are you going on about?" Mayr raised his gloved hands, his calloused skin still raw from earlier. "Wait, don't. Every time you tell me something, I want to rip my ears off. And if it's you and Orlee, I really don't need to know. If I didn't know better, I'd say you two were the twins with the way you carry on."
"Hey, Loftin married her. I can't help it if we get along." Estara wiped her face with the back of her wrist. Except for the dirt smudged on her skin, she resembled their mother almost exactly. "You just won us a bet, is all. Loftin's going to be so mad." With a maniacal laugh, her face reddened more than it already was from the sun. "He bet against his wife. This'll teach him."
Mayr raised one brow. Her tone suggested trouble—at his expense. "Tara, what did you do?"
A sly smile curved her pink lips. "Nice bruise," she cooed, pointing at Mayr's left shoulder.
Just off his collarbone, the bruise was still dark blue. It was a reminder of the night before last when Tash had sucked the skin hard. At the time, Mayr had welcomed it, but the expression on Estara's face made him self-conscious. "It's nothing."
"Next time, tell your friend to aim lower. If you don't want us poking in your personal life, don't make it so obvious. Or you could just call him what he actually is instead of just saying 'a friend.'"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Estara snorted. "Right. I'm sure he wouldn't, either." She gestured to Tash with her chin and pulled her white tunic down over her thickset torso. "Because it sure isn't me he's been ogling, even if my breasts are bigger than your ego."
On instinct, Mayr glanced at Tash and froze.
Tash's gaze was fixed on him, his yearning expression suggesting his mind was not on storytelling or the children.
"Look, far be it from me to say anything," Estara continued, "but let's just call a lover a lover. And let's just call Loftin an idiot because he wouldn't listen to Orlee and I. We told him there was something between you two."
"Tara," Mayr warned, clenching his teeth, "I don't want to get into it."
"What? He's nice. You're you. It's a good thing. I don't see why you don't just—"
"It's new, all right? Just stay out of it. And don't get attached. He might not be around long."
Estara pouted. "Aw, come on. Don't tell me you're going to get rid of him. You need someone, you know? It's silly, the rest of us having families when you don't." She poked his wrist with the end of her trowel. "If it's still about that bitch Betta, forget her. She's never been worth a moment of thought."
"Thanks for reminding me. I was actually having a good day." To get away from her stare, Mayr whirled toward the pile of uprooted draysa and tore the leaves away before dropping the tubers into a burlap sack. "It isn't about her. He's just not intending to stay, that's all."
"Like the rest of them." Estara sighed.
"Hey, at least he's honest about it; upfront. It's fine. I wouldn't mind not having to plan my life around someone else's. I'd like trying to be my own person."
Estara grunted, resembling their father. "I don't believe you, but there's not much I can say, is there? It's your life."
"Yes, it is, and if your cheerful disposition doesn't stop crawling up my backside, I'll just go and muck stalls for the rest of the day, and you can pull draysa. All. By. Your. Self."
Peering over his shoulder, Mayr caught Estara sticking out her tongue at him. "I bet he likes your backside," she muttered, almost low enough for him to miss it.
Mayr let the comment slide. He appreciated her concern, but not at that moment. Not when Tash was at the other end of the field, eyeing him as though he wanted Mayr's lips around his cock. As much as Mayr wanted to give that to him—as enjoyable as the act had been the few times Mayr did it, despite not being able to take Tash's sex down further than halfway without gagging—Mayr's attention was on finishing the rest of the harvest. Family first, pleasure second. Maybe even third, assuming I don't have to bury Tara. What a shame that would be.
They continued their task in relative silence, competing to see who would finish their row first. When they finished, Mayr gathering his last plant before Estara could dig around hers, they bagged the tubers and joined their mother, Tash, and the children. Orlee followed behind them, tousling her blonde hair as Loftin hauled their load to the barn with Teneth.
"Go on, drink up, all of you," Renett commanded, pointing to the buckets of water beside her chair. "Head back to the trough. Wash yourselves. Dinner's on when everyone's finished."
Mayr dipped his head and headed toward the barn behind Estara and Orlee, whose heads were close together as they giggled.
Tash grasped Mayr's arm, stopping him. He leaned in close, his lips on Mayr's ear. "I like you like this," he murmured, breathing deep as he nuzzled Mayr's neck discreetly. "Sure you don't want an extra hand?"
There were many things Mayr wanted. If they had been the only ones standing there, he might have agreed. But Estara's laughter reminded him of why he had introduced Tash as his friend to begin with. He did not need his family expecting Tash and him to last.
"No, but keep that in mind for later." Mayr pushed away and strode to the trough beside the barn. After washing the dirt and sweat from his skin with a cloth, he swiped his shirt from the post beside the trough, careful not to knock off the other shirts. Fully dressed, he followed Estara and Orlee back.
Renett reached out to take Mayr's hand on his approach. "Thanks for bringing him," she said, beaming as she nodded toward Tash. "We've had a wonderful time. I forgot how nice it was hearing the old tales from someone who wasn't me. And the children behaved to such perfection." When she motioned at him, Mayr leaned down to receive her kiss to his cheek. "You're so good to me."
Not even half as much as you deserve, he wanted to argue. Deciding against it, Mayr squeezed her fingers, his gaze averted from her legs. He barely caught all of the words spoken by Dayla, Efae, and Alith as they told their mothers what they'd heard while everyone else worked. Most of what they said was jammed between high-pitched chatter and a dizzying cycle of "and then." Estara and Orlee patiently allowed the children to exhaust the topic before chatting with Renett.
Tash stood behind the chair he had occupied, having offered it to Estara. His glance drifted from the children and their mothers to Mayr and Renett. Twisted emotions haunted his gaze, his smile weighted with what looked like regret.
The same emotions Mayr felt.
So many lost chances, so many years taken. Betta, why'd you do it? Why'd you break us? He knew why watching the children broke his heart, but why did it affect Tash?
Loftin, Teneth, and Malary appeared, cutting through Mayr's thoughts before he could analyze them. Washed and fully clothed, their arrival prompted the children to burst into a fit of squeals and another round of "guess what Priest Tash said."
A shrill whistle stopped the banter. Everyone turned to Renett.
"Dinner." She pointed to the house, its d
ark wood sides and red-stained roof a match to the barn. "Last child there gets the lowest seat."
All three children yelled and raced for the house.
Tash stared at Mayr, his expression blank.
"They like kicking their legs while they eat, and it only works if the chair's high enough," Mayr explained, shrugging. "It's a family habit. Apparently it worked for us, too."
"And none of you starved, last I checked." Renett pursed her lips. "Don't start arguing with my methods."
Mayr kissed the top of her head. "Wasn't going to." He bent down and slid his arm behind her. "Come on, let's get you in."
A hand flattened on his back. "Here, let me. You should rest." Tash moved Mayr aside. "After what the lot of you have done all day, it's the least I can do." With one arm around her back and the other under her knees, he lifted Renett as if she weighed nothing.
Renett looped her arms around his neck. "I'm certain this goes beyond your sacred duty, priest. You don't have to. What would the Goddesses say?"
"That being of such service is my sacred duty, and you deserve the full extent of it," Tash replied, standing still to let Mayr tuck the thin, blue blanket around Renett's legs. The fact Tash wore his skin-tone bracers and was missing his talon ring did not escape Mayr. Neither did his laced robe, the red fabric vibrant against Renett's faded yellow gown.
The vestments could do nothing to remove the image of Tash's naked body in Mayr's thoughts, a body he would rather not lose the chance to touch. But it's coming, I know it is. After it's over, I'm sticking to myself for a while. Work out what I actually want and avoid temptation.
As the rest of the family headed for the house, Mayr followed behind, watching Tash take Renett up the front porch and over the threshold. She laughed again and held onto Tash. Though she laughed often on normal occasions, she sounded even more joyful than usual. If anything, she flourished under Tash's attention, her pale blue eyes sparkling. If miracles had been commonplace and real, Mayr would have expected her to suddenly walk from Tash's embrace. He would have settled for even the slightest kick.
Four Page 9
