Polyphony

by Lee Benoit

  "Adi-love?" he said, bringing the old endearment into the light for the first time since his rescue.

  "I thought..."

  Adiún smiled a smile like birdsong. Devi wasn't fooled. "You thought we'd be just us?" Adiún wrapped him in an embrace and spoke low enough no one would overhear. "Matti is part of us now, do you agree?"

  "Of course," Devi didn't hesitate with that answer. "But..."

  "And Sauda is yours, yes?"

  "Not like that," Devi mumbled.

  "No." Adiún's voice quivered with mirth. "But Mari wants it to be 'like that.'"

  "Oh." How had he failed to notice? "And Joh?" He was barely accustomed to the idea of being three, with Matti. "Are we to be four now?" He wanted to know how his dearest love felt about it all.

  Adiún must have heard the doubts in his voice. "Only if you want, Devi-love."

  "Dunno," Devi mumbled.

  "Anyway, we must plan how to win these strange Alperai. They are not sure of us."

  Adiún was, as ever, a master of understatement. "So, we will hunt?"

  Matti loped up, bow at the ready, Kibi at his heels. "We will dazzle them with our indispensability."

  Devi snorted and tried a smile. Kino and Martiyyo waved from the entrance of their tent. "They will stay behind?"

  "Kino will help strengthen their shelters -- he has experience from building stages for Ieppe and Gydha. And Martiyyo..."

  Devi nodded. "Won't be parted from him."

  They set off. The moon shared the sky with the autumn sun, a pale reminder of the scant days until their fate would be decided.

  Devi was the first to admit he was no hunter, and so offered to dress out whatever the others bagged. Adiún and Matti headed off in one direction, Sauda and Mari in the other.

  "What'll we do in the mean time?" Joh asked him, with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  Devi cursed his fair skin and ready blush. He took a breath of the mountain air, took into himself the sunshine and the precious warmth of the day, one of those autumn days that seems to have forgotten winter is coming. It was a day that remembered the joys of summer. Something about that one breath, and all it carried into Devi, made him say what he said next.

  "We could go for a swim." He held Joh's eyes, though looking away would have been easier.

  Joh stared for a beat, then whooped loudly enough to raise a covey of fat quail from the nearby clearing. "Where's that stream we saw on the way up?" he said, and set off downslope at a run.

  Devi followed more slowly, surprised at himself and more than a little nervous. Joh knew a fair bit about him, given the weeks he and Adiún had traveled together, and Joh had been instrumental in finding him, leading the search through the stews of Dinas and Qytet. Still, each man's knowledge of the other was second-hand, and Devi felt wrong-footed as he followed.

  He caught up with Joh, slightly embarrassed by his suggestion of a swim. "Joh, I," he tried, then stopped. "I... what I said... um..."

  Joh slowed, turned, and said with a smile, "It's only a swim, chavvie."

  Devi felt himself color all over again. Behold, the eloquent story-father! he thought wryly. "I know. But I feel I... tides! I owe you a debt, Joh. I want to thank you." He stuttered to a stop, aware how that sounded.

  Joh quirked his lips. "Oh, chavvie. You coastal types and your honor." He shook his head. "I require no recompense from you. Certainly not in kind. You take me for some procurer, or some customer?"

  Devi began a horrified apology before he noticed Joh's cheeky smirk hadn't slipped a whit. He summoned his own smile, which arrived as a sheepish grin. Being with Joh was... easy.

  The stream they found was wide and sluggish.

  Joh stripped off his clothes without ceremony and waded into the river while Devi stood on the bank, his own reticence forgotten in frank admiration of his companion's body.

  Joh dove and swam a bit, clumsily as one bred far from water. "Cold!" Joh shouted when he surfaced.

  Devi removed his shirt, letting the autumn sun warm him and comparing his thin, pale body to Joh's darker, more robust one. With a sigh -- the water was dappled with sunlight and looked inviting, and cold water was nothing to a coastal brat -- he shucked his trousers and followed.

  Joh might have traveled the world, might have performed before princes and peasants, might have dozens of talents Devi was unaware of, but he became a little boy in the water.

  He must had given voice to his thoughts. "Not so little, chavvie, even in this cold," Joh called from further into the stream. The water was cold and ran fast deeper down, pulling at Devi's feet.

  Safer to swim, he thought, and dived under. He pulled against the current until he reached Joh, who waited until he surfaced and then executed a backward somersault calculated, Devi suspected, to place his not-so-little attributes on blatant display.

  Devi was laughing by the time he came up for air. Off guard, he didn't tense when Joh gave exaggerated shivers and embraced him. Devi didn't pull away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Joh's hips, humming at the delicious sensation of his own cooled skin warming fast. The kiss Joh gave him was affectionate, not at all demanding, and Devi relaxed. The kisses continued, chaste but for the naked press of their two bodies in the current.

  "Matti said it's been hard for you, being with lovers since the brothel," Joh said tentatively when they paused in their kisses.

  Devi hadn't wanted to talk about it. But here was Joh, guileless and listening, able to give a eunuch an orgasm, and Devi felt a wall inside him crumble. He let it fall.

  "Matti loves you, and Adiún adores you without measure," Joh continued, his tongue chasing rivulets of water down Devi's neck and over his shoulders. Devi shivered, but not with any cold.

  Even the cold place inside him his captivity had carved out, melted in the dappled sunlight of Joh's attentions.

  "They want you, you know. But they don't know how to bring you back."

  Devi knew what Joh meant, but he couldn't have put words to it, not with Joh's lips fastening around one nipple and pulling gently. "Oh!" was all he said.

  "They tried, I know. But they can't help you forget... everything... because they can't."

  Devi knew he should be reciprocating, should be making Joh feel as good as he did, but all he could do was shiver and clutch at Joh's shoulders.

  "You can?" he asked on a shaky breath.

  "I already have," Joh confirmed, and he turned Devi around and kissed his way up Devi's spine, twisted around to lavish attention on his nape and ears, all the while running his thumbs over Devi's tits and belly, warm and sure.

  "You are undiscovered country, chavvie, all new and fresh and mine to explore." Joh made leisurely forays over Devi's hips and down to press back on his thighs, bringing their bodies into firmer contact. There was nothing leisurely, however, in the warm, hard press of Joh's cock against the small of Devi's back. But there was nothing insistent either. There was none of the worry and care of Adiún's lovemaking, nothing of Matti's rueful empathy. It was pure and sweet.

  "Like a first time," he heard himself say.

  "Like a second chance," Joh added, moving around to kiss Devi's face and mouth some more.

  Emboldened, Devi let the current buoy him so that he could wrap his legs around Joh's middle.

  "That's right, chavvie." Joh's praise was like sunshine on wildflowers. Devi playfully drummed his heels up and down the back of Joh's solid thighs.

  Joh avoided Devi's cock, and Devi understood it was not from lack of desire, but because Joh's every moment with him begged forbearance. Joh's leisurely wooing of him reminded him of his and Melle's and Adiún's unhurried explorations as youngsters, all that enthusiasm of discovery with all the time on earth and sea to make them in. In that strange place of simultaneously remembering and revelation, he squeezed Joh's hips and shoulders hard and brought their groins into unequivocal contact. If he'd thought his new friend was indifferent to the proceedings, or only engaging in them therapeutically, he learn
ed differently when Joh shivered and moaned raggedly, arching his body backward and very nearly dunking them both.

  Devi's orgasm rolled over him before they were properly righted, and it was at once shockingly strange and deeply familiar. His spending spread between them, warm as their bodies for the moment before the river washed it away, taking the recent past with it.

  Devi kept his hold on Joh, insisting with his body that Joh come, too. That was exactly what he was doing, copiously and in full voice, when a whistle pierced the air.

  Calls followed, in Matti's and Adiún's voices, and a moment later Kibi loped down the river bank and into the water, ignoring the calls with puppyish single-mindedness. He barreled right into the stream and swam with hilarious gracelessness, to where Devi and Joh still stood entwined. He broke the moment, but not the newly forged connection. They were still holding each other, laughing and wiping river water out of their eyes, when Adiún and Matti broke through the brush line.

  Sauda and Mari followed and, with a shyness that Devi wouldn't have expected from either of them, wandered together further downriver.

  Devi would always remember the rest of that afternoon as one of the best of his life, the four of them simply, miraculously, being boys together, playing in the river, dressing out the fat birds the others had shot, then playing some more as the afternoon deepened into something golden and perfect. Only the chill of approaching evening drove them out of the river and back to the Alperai camp.

  The fowl were greeted with enthusiasm and a roasting spit was improvised. Everyone sat about chatting while they dressed out and plucked the birds, Devi listened for the currents of tension that had characterized their arrival. They seemed less than before, and he took hope for that. He didn't imagine this place could be a permanent home for any of them, but perhaps a safe winter was within their grasp.

  At full dark, and with much importuning from Alperai refugees and his companions alike, Devi resumed the tale of Edhyn and Nyja. This time, it took only the barest of breaths to achieve the mild trance he needed. He may not be able to hunt, or do much else useful besides inspire three good men to concupiscence, but he could make and tell tales, and that was enough. Adiún's eyes told him so.

  "It may be said that the people of Edhyn's village were well impressed and truly delighted with his ability to fly. Many told him how beautiful be was in flight, and many invited him to wrap his wings around them. The elders of the village, less easily swayed by beauty or even desire, looked shrewdly at the wings and understood their tactical advantage. Surely no other village in the great forest or beyond had a flying boy to scout for game and danger. Edhyn was occupied all day with errands for the elders and showing off for his friends.

  "When the shadows of his wings stretched to double his height, he flew off, banking once very close above the village, sure no one would forget this. He had told no one he must return Nyja's wings at sunset. Nyja was still sleeping when he arrived at the young burled oak. He woke her gently and she showed him how to clean and oil the wing feathers. When they were to her satisfaction, she said, 'Now the wings will be mine again.' Edhyn stumbled as the weight and loft of the wings blinked away. 'Now I shall hunt,' said Nyja, 'and you must rest. Here or in your village, no matter. Be here at sunrise and you may have the wings again.'

  "And so a pattern of days and nights established itself, and Nyja's wings were very busy. Edhyn played with his friends, to be sure, but more often he did things the elders requested. He found game to hunt in the forest and on the mountains. He watched for raiding parties from other villages. He even searched for growths of plants for food and dyes and simples for the herb- mother -- all easy to see from the air once the women of the village described them to him. And every sunset he cleaned the wings as Nyja taught him, and she took them back.

  "One day, flying far from his village looking for some goats raiders had taken, Edhyn felt a sudden impact and dragging weight on his legs. A rope weighted with three balls -- the kind used for felling mountain deer -- had spun round his ankles, binding them together tightly. Unable to use his legs to steer with (he had no tail to spread for that purpose, of course), he fell, landing hard on his knees. Two men seized his arms, and two more seized his wings, stretching them painfully as if to discover how they were made. More men were there, and they came from every village within the great forest. The elders of the men's villages were angry at the advantage Edhyn's wings gave his village, and had sent this deputation to address the elders of Edhyn's village. They had not set out to capture Edhyn himself, but, good hunters all, they were always ready for a leaping deer or a lolloping rabbit.

  "Edhyn begged to be let go. The men refused, and there were always two men holding him so he could not run or fly away. They tied his hands before him and put a rope around his neck, which a third man held and jerked sometimes to remind Edhyn he was captive. He never forgot, though.

  The sun was high, far from setting, but he was far from Nyja and her burl. He must get there before dark. He did not.

  "Unable to fly, Edhyn walked with the men, stopping when they stopped. The trip to his village took three nights and four days. Near sunset on the fourth day, they reached Edhyn's village where they were greeted with much outcry. To capture men and bind them was not the way of their people. Edhyn's captors argued that neither was it the way of their people to hunt and raid with the assistance of an owl boy. That is what they called him, Owl Boy. The men from the other villages sat down with the elders of Edhyn's villages to palaver, and they kept Edhyn there with them long into the night. It was finally decided that all the villages would share in the advantages of Edhyn's skills, but that the elders of his own village would keep control of the disposition of such advantages. No one was satisfied, but no one was drawing weapons, so the negotiations were considered a success. This was true for everyone there except Edhyn. Though he was desperately tired and barely able to control his muscles for the fear that chilled them, he knew he must get to Nyja as quickly as possible. An owl is a big bird, but a small creature, and must eat often or die.

  "Nyja was not in her burl. Approaching as he did from above, Edhyn did not see her until he penetrated the crown of her oak tree. She was lying on her back on the ground, and her eyes were closed. Had she fallen? Edhyn was beside her in the time it takes to sneeze. He slid his trembling hands gently under her light, cool body. She opened her eyes to dull yellow slits and regarded him.

  "'You are not dead,' she said, though her beak appeared to move not at all. Edhyn shook his head, beginning to weep. 'I was certain that only death could keep you from your promise to me.' Edhyn explained in a few hiccupping words what had happened.

  "'Take your wings back, Nyja. Take them and I will not have them again. It is too great a risk for you.'

  "'I cannot. The magic is gone. I am too weak, and may yet die. Help me hunt."

  "'Nyja, dearest, I will hunt for you! Stay here and rest."

  "'No! I need your heat, and I would not let you leave my sight again. I've had enough of rest.'

  Edhyn nodded, though Nyja's words struck his heart like a whip. He tried, without much success, to clear his tears from his eyes so he could fly. He flew in spite of them, so that the land below looked awry and wet. Edhyn stooped for small scurrying prey, and when they had caught two field mice, they went back to the oak tree and Edhyn sat at its feet, Nyja in his lap, their wings folded close around them. Nyja was yet too weak to use her beak and talons to eat with, so Edhyn wrung the tiny necks for her, tore the little soft bodies into dripping mouthfuls, and fed them to her with his fingers. Nyja's hunger made her clumsy and desperate, so that some of the blood she swallowed was Edhyn's.

  "When she had finished, she subsided against Edhyn's chest and appeared to sleep. Edhyn roused her to say, 'Nyja, are you strong enough now? Change us. Change us back.'

  "'I cannot. I told you. The magic was gone the first night you did not return. I have no power to recall the magic. I never did. We will be as we are forever
.' And then she slept in earnest, and Edhyn could not rouse her. He sat holding her to him all that long day, and when she woke at sunset, they hunted again. This time, when Edhyn stooped, it was Nyja's talons and not Edhyn's fingers that snatched they prey off the forest floor or out of trees. Nyja didn't need any help to eat. The next night, they hunted in the same way, and Edhyn, who was learning to sleep during the day like an owl, flew for the exhilaration of it, for Nyja's sake, because she had asked him to do so. He didn't ask if she missed flying solo. His heart was so heavy he was surprised it didn't keep them earthbound. Nyja and Edhyn never discussed what they had become.

  "Slowly, they reclaimed the joy of each other, and Nyja lived a long life, possibly longer than she would have lived had she not had Edhyn's protection from animal threats and weather. But no owl lives as long as a man and Nyja died before Edhyn had reached the middle of his age. He lived the rest of his life without her and alone, though perhaps he did not live as long as he would have lived had Nyja not left him. He did not return to his village and people from the village had long since ceased searching for him. But children in the village, awake in the night, told their parents of the pale whispering flight of a giant bird with long legs and a pair of arms. Their parents, for their part, smiled indulgently and tucked in their little blankets more snugly. 'Go back to sleep, my dear one, you are dreaming of the Owl Man, who watches over our sleep, hunting the bad dreams so they will not trouble us.' The parents spoke with confidence, but they could only hope their words were true."

  There was silence when Devi stopped speaking. He looked up to find his friends looking at him proudly, and chanced a look at the mab rhi. His look was not proud. It was, if Devi were honest, avaricious, very like the look his procurer had given before buying him for the brothel.

  Chapter 7

  Full Moon

  Devi wandered over to where Matti sat with Adiún and Joh, wearing that abstracted look Matti was coming to recognize as the afterglow of a story trance. Tonight, though, a frown had snuck in to his face as well. Concerned, Matti reached up and took Devi's hands, pulling him down to sit close. Without much thought, he began carding Devi's blunt, jaw-length hair with his fingers, the way he often did with Adiún, smiling as he wondered how Joh would respond to similar attention. When Devi relaxed fractionally against him, he planted a soft kiss at the nape of Devi's neck. Sensitive there, he noted for future reference.