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Their passion is entwined so closely with the music, their pleasures defined by the sacrifices endured for such purity of voice and purpose. Is it any wonder we have chosen from the earthly ranks of the castrati to populate the Gios of the Nightingale? Their selfless oblation is everything to us—they represent the epitome of our love and offer renewal to our dedication to protect mankind from descent into utter and complete chaos...
——Rahuael, First Chronicler, Viadine Secretorum
* * *
CARNE WAS ALONE NOW and there were things to consider. He fingered the medallion around his neck. What was his role in all of this? Had it actually been preordained? Was he born to sacrifice? To give back to Fabienne what had been stolen from him centuries ago? He tried not to think of Annatoly, of something deeper he felt for him. Something he might not ever have the chance to bring to fruition. They all had a destiny and now he knew in which direction his lay.
Carne was a composer, he knew to some extent the sacrifice required for his music. Although he’d not given the ultimate sacrifice that Fabienne had been forced to endure. Was it just the music that Carne would sacrifice for, or in this instance was it something deeper and far more lasting?
With each of these men, he had found love, although in different ways, for different reasons. For Dandrae, for Fabienne, for Annatoly. To each of them he would give of himself and make his own choice in the sacrifice. He touched his lips, remembered the kiss he and Fabienne shared. How it had touched him down to his core. How much Fabienne had suffered. And then he remembered Dandrae. Dandrae, his earthy passion, and the beauty of Venice, their lust knowing no bounds. Dandrae was not at fault, he had only known and lived one way. For Dandrae it was the practicality of survival. No one had ever in all his life shown him a real kindness. For Dandrae, it was tied to the ultimate reward of immortality so he could continue his decadent lifestyle without repercussion or end.
And then there was Annatoly—a man Carne had been drawn to without ever knowing his name. An encounter with a stranger only known to Carne as Maître. It was a memory that had not extinguished for almost ten years. And then those six days in Venice when his compositions had come alive, and his body had responded in ways Carne had not thought possible. Annatoly, who had his own painful secrets that he kept close, not sharing with anyone. Annatoly, who kept his distance, and yet, there was such a hunger and sense of profound loneliness in his eyes. A look of such abiding pain that Carne was willing to do anything to wipe it away.
For Carne, there was more to it than immortality. It was recompense for a wrong done to another. It was payment for all the sins of his ancestors’ pasts. A cleansing. But he was the last, wasn’t he? With him, his line would be expunged forever. There would be no more descendants of the Borggio line. No more bad blood. He could do this. Not only for Fabienne, but for himself. Because hadn’t he always felt that darkness lurking inside him? Waiting to be unleashed? He had fought its hold on him all his life. He could make amends. And to him family honor was more important than immortality.
He turned from the window when someone knocked at his door. It was Annatoly who entered. Their gazes met and that swift burn of arousal shot through Carne.
“So, you’ve made your choice,” Annatoly finally said.
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
“It won’t be as easy as you think. If you survive, it will in Fabienne’s shell. Do you know what that means? You’ll have immortality, but it will be in the body of a...eunuch. To all the world a sexless being—a monster.”
“But not like...you.”
“Not like me. Fabienne is fully capable of giving and receiving pleasure in the natural way of men.”
“What about you, Annatoly? The immortality that you have, is there any pleasure to be had in it at all? Physical, I mean?”
Annatoly strolled over to a chair and sat. He waved to the other chair. “If you’re to be one of us, you must know some of our history. Because I—I’ll tell you what I’ve never spoken of to another—not even Fabienne. Although I expect he has surmised some of it. I have never shared the story of the monster that was created so long ago.”
Carne did want to know. He wanted to know all of it. Instead of taking the chair, he knelt at Annatoly’s feet. He looked up at him. “Tell me...Maître.
Annatoly placed a hand on Carne’s head, twining his fingers in Carne’s hair. “My beautiful, giving Carne.” Then he looked past him, off into the distance, to another time and place.
“I was born in Byzantium at a time when eunuchs were very much a part of the way of life. But it was never a life I envisioned for myself. My mother was a queen, a woman of uncommon ability and intelligence. We were unprepared when Constantine’s army descended upon us one beautiful spring day. My mother refused to submit and was burned at the stake. Too many knew of her powers as a seer and feared what ills she might bring down upon Constantine’s head.”
“But they didn’t kill you?”
A painful smile crossed Annatoly’s face. “I was seventeen at the time, about to be married. They raped my intended, then killed her in front of me. I cursed them until I grew hoarse. The general in charge of the prisoners was a cruel and brutal man. He had a taste for—a special depravity you might say. He apparently liked my passion, found it a challenge—one he was eager to bring to heel. He found me beautiful and was determined to tame me to his hand. He liked surrounding himself with beautiful young men—young nobles from the cities he vanquished. Gelded and rendered impotent, forever unsuitable to reign in any kingdom or enjoy the life we had once lived.
“I was to become part of his special private harem.” Annatoly stopped and took a deep shuddering breath and then continued. “They cut me, clean and completely. My penis, my testicles. A physician attended me and thus I did not die. When I was well enough I was forced to watch the city where I grew up razed to the ground. And then I was forced to watch as my manhood was burned to ashes over a cook fire, forever barring me from attaining any honor in this life or even acceptance in the afterlife. Everything that I had known, that I had been, was torn from me. And I swore at that moment that one day I would have my revenge.” He looked at Carne and there was such a cold deadness in his eyes that Carne shuddered.
“What did you do?” Carne asked. “How did you get free?”
“It was another seven years before I had my chance. By then I’d made myself indispensable. Although I was a slave, I was the general’s favorite. He took me with him on campaign. He’d let his guard down and I killed him during one bloody battle—I took from him what he took from me and then I just walked away, my hands still dripping with his blood. I had my revenge and there was nothing else I had to live for. So I walked into the desert ready to end my life even if it meant forever walking in the shadow world. It was Zabrael who found me. And he gave me a reason to go on. He gave me his blood. I live for the gios and I will not allow the Diadune to destroy the only happiness allowed to the fallen who sacrifice so much to nurture humanity.”
Carne lay his head upon Annatoly’s thigh. “You’ve lost so much.” So much pain, my God, how did he stand it? Carne looked up at Annatoly. “Have you ever been happy, Annatoly, since that moment when the general took everything from you?”
“Happiness.” Annatoly shrugged. “I am content. I have a divine purpose. Has anyone such as me—such as the monster I was made—have a right to ask for more than peace and way to serve the righteous?”
Carne reached up and cupped Annatoly’s face. “You have a right to love and be loved, Annatoly.” He leaned upward and kissed him, a deep kiss that tried to say more than words could.
Annatoly wrapped his arms around Carne and pulled him close, deepening the kiss. Then he leaned back and looked down sadly at Carne. “You ask too much, beautiful one. I should never have...Paris never should have happened. Venice just made things worse.”
“No, it didn’t and I don’t regret it—not any of it. If it weren’t for my debt to Fabienne...”
“It isn’t your debt.”
“You and I both know I have to do this. I have to make amends.”
“Ah, Fabienne, he is a proud man. The phratry would have granted him a place in the gios, but he refused to accept it. He’s too proud. Not until he could find a way to regain what was lost to him and stand as an equal among the others.”
“But he’s immortal, isn’t he?”
“A temporary measure. My blood keeps him safe, for the time being. But to secure his own immortality he must be inducted. Without his voice he will never accept his true immortal destiny.”
“So he has to have his revenge in order to secure his right to become a part of the gios?”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that. The circle must be closed. He had a calling and he has been brutally severed from his rightful place. Only you can set matters right—the seventh son completes the cycle. The blood of seven is baked into both masks. Your blood and Fabienne’s were the final elements needed to complete the cycle.”
“What if I had gone the way of my forebears? What if I had died?”
Annatoly shrugged. “Your blood still would have been taken. The masks prepared. A suitable donor located. It would not have been stopped. The binding might not have been as strong, but it would have held. But it is you who hold the ultimate power.”
“So why didn’t he just arrange for me to die? He hates my ancestors. Will he really want to continue on into immortality in this body?”
“I think you know—you’ve felt it. Something about you is different from all the rest. Your compositions in particular. He can’t kill you. He must forgive you. And he must say the words aloud for them to be binding.”
“He said them earlier tonight.”
Annatoly smiled. “I knew he would understand. I knew he would see. He’s almost there. His transformation is almost complete. He must love you.” Annatoly stroked a hand down the side of Carne’s face. “Just as I do. But there’s no time left.”
“You love me?” Could it be true? Then what was going to happen to them when the exchange was completed?
Annatoly got to his feet. “What we ask won’t be easy. Tomorrow night the ceremony will take place. A representation of the Viadine will be in attendance, as will the Gios of the Nightingale. They will sing your composition from Venice. The one you completed at the Danieli. Consider carefully how you will proceed.”
Annatoly kissed him and then walked out of the room. Carne was left with his own thoughts. So much to think about and to consider. If he went along with this he would be changed—he would for all intents and purposes become a castrato and did that mean Fabienne would be whole? How would that affect the voice Fabienne so yearned to reclaim? Carne was a grown man and his body had undergone all the changes associated with claiming its manhood.
And what about himself? His soul would reside inside the body of a eunuch with a ruined voice. Admittedly the whole thing terrified him. But if he didn’t offer himself—in essence sacrifice his life—Fabienne would never have a hope of achieving his destiny. One he deserved. Carne would likely still be able to compose. He didn’t need a voice, nor testicles in order to create his music. Nor did he need them to love Annatoly.
Carne walked out into the corridor. He found his way to the staircase that took him to Fabienne’s tower apartment. There was something he needed tonight, something he thought Fabienne needed as well. To make love with him and to do so while still inside his body. It was something that needed to occur to cement their relationship. He didn’t love Fabienne in the same way he cared for Annatoly, but he felt a need to merge with him at this more physical level. Carne needed to give Fabienne unconditional love as well as offer his body. He made his way down the corridor, determination drawing him closer and closer.
This was his destiny. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life. He shoved open the door. Fabienne’s head shot up. Their gazes locked. There was no time left for words. Carne strode across the room, took Fabienne into his arms, and kissed him with something closer to reverence and the need for atonement for the sins committed against him than the all-consuming passion he felt for Annatoly.
“If this body is going to be mine, I want to learn every inch of it. Even if it takes all night,” Carne said as he began to slowly strip Fabienne of his clothes.
* * *
FABIENNE WAS SURPRISED when Carne entered the room. He dropped what he’d been working on and came to his feet. Before he could move Carne had him in his arms, kissing him. His tongue probing between Fabienne’s lips, dueling with his tongue, even as he shoved Fabienne’s velvet jacket off his arms. It dropped to the floor.
There was no time to think, only to feel. Candlelight flickered over the room. Desire was the emotion that flared bright enough to singe them both.
“You don’t have to sacrifice yourself,” Fabienne said as he divested Carne of his clothing.
“Yes, I do. There’s something more to this than just you; it’s my own survival. To cleanse the stain for my family’s cursed honor.” He cupped Fabienne’s face.
“You don’t have to be the sacrificial lamb. You aren’t Carlo. I’ve come to realize that. Finally. I don’t want any more of your damned sacrifice. The blood that we’ve already taken will be enough. I can’t ask more of you. Not now.”
He watched Carne smile. He pushed down his trousers and his cock sprang free. Thick and hard, fully aroused. “I don’t want to talk about what tomorrow will bring. Not tonight. It’s already decided. Technically you won’t lose me. You’ll be inside me, and I’ll be inside you. But tonight I want to be inside you in a different way.” He grinned. “I want you just the way you are right now. I want to fuse this bond between us—weld it so that nothing can ever sever it. I have the feeling Annatoly is connected to you in a way that can’t be severed. You love him. He loves you. I love both of you. Differently, but I still love you. And I want that same connection.”
Fabienne took Carne into his arms. No one had ever sacrificed so completely for another. Whatever evil blood that had once flowed though the veins of his antecedents, did not touch this man, Fabienne was certain of it. And the enormity of his sacrifice almost overwhelmed Fabienne.
“You are more beautiful than any man I have ever known, Carne Geraint. The most beautiful I shall ever have.”
Bodies brushed together, hard nipples, stiff cocks. Fabienne reached down and cupped Carne’s balls—they were a weight he’d been without for most of his life. He feathered his fingers over their heft. The heaviness of the twin sacs filled his palms.
“They’ll be yours soon,” Carne said. “But I don’t know if the voice is one that will give you what you want.”
Fabienne fingered Carne’s prick, kneaded his balls, and then kissed him deeply. “That’s something you won’t need to worry about. The exchange is not simply an exchange of souls. It’s hard to explain, but a metamorphosis will occur. Like a caterpillar and its cocoon. There will be other changes as well, brought about by the alchemical processes. Think of it as a divine gift of the Viadine.”
Fabienne dropped to his knees. He needed to taste them, to explore them. Soon he would once again know the weight of a man’s testicles where once he had only felt the shiny texture of scarred flesh.
“Do you know what eunuchs called their privates in Annatoly’s time?” he murmured.
Carne rolled his hips. “No. Tell me.”
“Precious. I’m going to give my absolute attention to your precious parts, my dear.”
Carne had heard that term before. In Paris. And now he understood it’s deeper, poignant meaning.
When Fabienne sucked Carne’s balls into his mouth, Carne gasped, then released a groan of pleasure. Fabienne explored the wrinkled flesh with his tongue, dipping beneath, then circling around.
Carne finally shoved him away, forcing him onto his back on the floor. He was on his knees above Fabienne, looking down at him. Fabienne watched as Carne explored him with a look, tracking down over his body. And then Carne dipped down. He licked up the length of Fabienne’s prick, circled his tongue over the head. He shoved Fabienne’s legs wide apart. Then he dipped down to suck at the base of Fabienne’s prick. He surged upward from the floor as Carne sucked at his root. The pleasure was almost more than he could bear.
Carne kissed his cock, then proceeded to lick his way down one thigh and back up the other. He rolled Fabienne onto his front. He reached between his legs and stroked his fingers over the base of Fabienne’s prick. He drew his finger up along Fabienne’s crack to circle the puckered opening of his anus. He took his time exploring Fabienne’s body. He kissed each scar on his back, ran his tongue up along Fabienne’s spine and then down again, nipping as he went. Sucking at his cheeks.
He came up over Fabienne, stretched out over him, chest to back, cock entrenched deeply into the crack of Fabienne’s ass. He encircled him and held him close, rubbing his cock up and down the crease. And Fabienne thought he’d never experienced a more erotic moment than this one.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.
“Never,” Carne said. “Never as long as we live. We are one.”
Fabienne chuckled. “That could be a very long time.”
“Undoubtedly.” Then Carne kissed his neck, traveling from one side to the other across his shoulders. He nipped at the nape and Fabienne shuddered.
“Now,” he said. “Fuck me now.”
Carne lifted away. He came back shortly with a bottle of oil. Fabienne rolled onto his back and watched as Carne slowly lubricated his prick. The longer he watched, the more aroused Fabienne got. His fingers with their well manicured nails slid up and down his thick erection again and again. As he looked up, Fabienne realized Carne was watching him.
Fabienne got to his knees. He took the oil from Carne. “Let me,” he said. And he took great pleasure in preparing Carne to penetrate him.
“Lean forward,” Carne said. Then he proceeded to prepare Fabienne’s hole with just as much attention as Fabienne’s cock, until Fabienne was uttering deep-throated groans of pleasure.
Carne rolled him onto his back. He lifted his legs and came over him. He pressed his cock to Fabienne’s opening. Fabienne felt the burn as his sphincter bloomed beneath the onslaught. He gasped when it popped through the ring of muscle. And slowly Carne screwed himself deeper and deeper into Fabienne’s ass.
Suddenly, Carne plunged forward and Fabienne let out a harsh, guttural sound. “Is this what you want?” Carne asked.
“Yes!”
Carne pulled out, then penetrated him again. “And this?”
“Yes! Yes!” Fabienne had forgotten, or maybe he never knew. Sex had never been like this. He wrapped his hand around his cock and began to masturbate. His orgasm was not far and soon he was spurting into his hand. Moments later Carne climaxed.
Carne withdrew. He sat, head down, breathing hard. Fabienne lifted up, he reached for Carne’s hand and kissed each fingertip. Carne glanced up. Fabienne smiled.
“There is an advantage to being immortal. Come to bed with me, Carne. Let me show you—let me teach you.” Carne returned the smile and got to his feet. Fabienne made his way to the massive canopied bed in the other room. Sunrise was a long way away yet and he planned to make the most of the hours before the nightingale sang again.
* * *
ANNATOLY STEPPED INTO his room. He eyed Dandrae who was chained in the corner. Annatoly had said the chains were well fashioned with Viadine magick sewn into them this time. Dandrae heard his footsteps and lifted his head. They’d left him alone for a very long time. And it was long enough to allow Dandrae to consider which master he wanted to serve. And it wasn’t Smopheus. Even if he didn’t gain immortality.
“My lord?” he asked hesitantly.
Annatoly sighed as he removed his coat and tossed it over a chair. “You’re certain you want this? You’ll be brought close to death. Closer than you’ve ever been before. And you will become totally dependent upon me for your life.”
“I don’t want to go with them. I want to change. For you.” Whatever happened, Dandrae wanted to be here, to serve Annatoly in whatever way he wished. For the first time in his life he had met a group of men that made Dandrae yearn to better more than he had been, to reach for something greater than himself.
“I thought you loved power and money.” Dandrae loved Carne. He felt rather awed by Annatoly. He even cared for Fabienne. A brief taste of bliss and he wanted more. He would do anything to stay here. He didn’t want the darkness, but it was all he’d ever known. Before Carne. An old habit nurtured out of a sense of his own lack of worth. He was not a fine man like Annatoly or Fabienne. He hadn’t tried to rise above his roots as Carne had done. Nor was he gifted with musical talent. But he would serve them faithfully for the rest of his life and do it gladly.
“Help me to change. I’ll be anything you want me to be. If only you’ll let me stay with you. Let me serve you.”
Annatoly cupped his face, gazing down at him and Dandrae felt he could see right into his soul, black though it was. And Dandrae was shamed by the knowledge.
“There will be no going back once it is done. You’ll be tied to me. You’ll owe me your allegiance, your loyalty. And you will have the protection of the Viadine.”
“Yes, my lord,” Dandrae said. He wanted this. He hadn’t realized how much.
“I’m a fool to give you this chance,” Annatoly said more to himself than to Dandrae. “I must be getting old.”
“No, my lord, you are beneficent. You won’t regret this, I promise you.”
Annatoly seemed to think on it for several moments longer. He unlocked the chains binding Dandrae. Then he led him to the bed. He removed Dandrae’s shirt. Dandrae’s heart beat fast but he couldn’t decide if it was fear or desire. Perhaps a little of both. One day he would earn the right to his own immortality, but for now, he would accept whatever crumbs Annatoly would offer him. Anything to stay here with these men, anything for a chance to be a better man than he had heretofore been.
Gently Annatoly laid him upon the counterpane. Dandrae steeled himself for the pain of penetration. But he was surprised when Annatoly leaned forward and kissed him. A sensual kiss of claiming that soon had Dandrae responding. And it made him realize that Fabienne had never been his, nor had Carne. But this man, this eunuch, surprisingly, was everything to him. He reached up, lost in the drugging kiss.
Annatoly looked down into his eyes, mesmerizing him with a piercing look. He now understood Carne’s devotion. Annatoly’s silver-ringed black eyes pulled him in and he was falling, falling...
“Make me yours,” Dandrae said, meaning it more than he’d ever meant anything in his life. He wanted this. So much. He would die if he couldn’t belong to Annatoly.
Annatoly lay down beside him, stretched along his body. Dandrae turned on his side to embrace him, pressing his body close. Annatoly feathered kisses along his jaw, down his chest. He sucked at a nipple, arousing Dandrae to heady desire. Dandrae soon found himself lost in pleasure.
It was unexpected when it happened and he gasped, his eyes going wide. Annatoly bit into his neck. And then Dandrae relaxed, a smile on his lips. At last. The stain upon his soul would be cleansed. He eagerly met the lethargy. He vaguely felt the tightening of Annatoly’s body as he drew on more and more of Dandrae’s blood. Dandrae heard the groan of rapture as Annatoly found his own form of pleasure in the consumption of Dandrae’s blood.
And then the world darkened and Dandrae almost felt his soul leaving his body. Yes, this is the way it should be. Anything to please my master. Anything, even my life. He gazed fixedly up at the canopy, thought he saw angels hovering above, watching as Annatoly fed from him.
The pain altered to a gentle throbbing and then his mouth was filling with blood as Annatoly held his opened wrist to Dandrae’s mouth. And suddenly Dandrae was reborn. Annatoly removed his wrist and Dandrae licked his bloody lips clean. He looked up at Annatoly.
“I am delivered. I love you, my lord.” And then he closed his eyes and slept. And from somewhere far off he could hear the celestial choir singing. Tears wet his face. So beautiful.
