Chapter 14

They left Stephan’s camp following a cart track that led toward one of the outlying villages. Blythe stared in surprise when they passed a couple of carts laden with vegetables going toward the fortress.

“Stephan pays for supplies,” Garrick said, noticing his gaze.

“War is an expensive business,” Oakes said. “But more so for the loser.”

Blythe nodded but rode silently. He’d seen Felor’s men raid villages and fields for food, even though the villages were in Felor’s territory. Raided food was considered tribute to Felor. He doubted the villagers saw it that way.

As they rode, he kept an eye on the brush beside the trail. He’d fashioned a sling shot out of a strip of leather that Oakes had given him and collected a few good stones when they’d stopped to relieve themselves and let the horses graze. They traveled slowly. Men on horseback riding fast would have attracted too much attention. But the growing sunlight and the sound of the horses kept any rabbits well away from the trail they followed.

They passed a village before midday and stopped to water the horses. The villagers, mostly women in faded clothing, watched but didn’t approach as Blythe pulled the water bucket up from the well over and over again and dumped it into the trough. It was work he was used to. Kai had left him to care for the horses when they traveled. It kept him away from curious eyes. But Sir Kai had flaunted his authority and ordered people about, not waited off to one side checking his horse, like Sir Garrick did. It was Oakes who sauntered over to the women and exchanged a few words and then a few coins. When Blythe looked up from the filled trough, Garrick handed him a mug of ale. “Best drink it down quickly.”

He nodded, glad of something to quench his thirst and drained the mug. A village woman was there to take the empty from him. Her eyes flicked to his in question for a moment, but she moved wordlessly back to gathered group. He wanted to tell them that everything would be all right. That King Stephan had won the latest battle and was an honorable man. But he wasn’t sure they would believe him. That was something King Stephan would have to prove.

“Best we ride,” Oakes said when Sunny looked up from drinking his share of the water. Garrick nodded his agreement and gave the gathered women a small bow before mounting Djinn. Blythe rushed to mount Risk who was prancing nervously around the space. The horse tried to shake him off, and he had to put all his effort into settling him down. He and Risk were both still adjusting to this journey.

“Come along, lad,” Oakes called cheerfully. “Or I’ll find you a cart horse to ride.”

He managed to calm Risk and headed toward the other two. Once again, Oakes let him ride ahead so he rode between the two men. It wasn’t until they were clear of the village that Garrick called for a stop and Oakes broke out the bread, cheese and meat that he’d packed.

“The villagers were nervous,” Blythe said as he accepted his portion of the food.

“Seemed that way,” Oakes said.

“Are villagers usually that nervous in Felor’s lands?” Garrick asked.

Blythe thought for a moment. Usually villagers were terrified. Not worried. “They knew what was likely to happen with Felor’s men. They didn’t like it, but they knew. Now they don’t know and that worries them.”

Garrick nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer.

Blythe finished his food while thinking that the other problem was that the three of them looked completely wrong. Garrick and Oakes were soldiers, and Garrick wasn’t from western lands. As for him, every lad his age had been drafted to support Felor’s troops. Oakes might have seemed sort of normal on his own. Felor wouldn’t have worried about recruiting a man with grey hair and one arm. But the horses the three of them rode were far too fine. There was no way to solve those problems. He realized Garrick knew about them and accepted them. He had to hope Garrick knew what he was doing.

“Last of the easy meals,” Oakes said. “We could use some of the rabbits you promised, lad.”

“They aren’t out in the open in daylight,” Blythe said. “But I’ll get one soon.”

Oakes nodded and mounted his horse. “Well, you haven’t disappointed us yet.”

Blythe was surprised at that. He still wasn’t sure Oakes trusted him, and when they rode, Oakes took up his position behind Blythe again. He didn’t see rabbits until the sun was low in the sky, but he managed to get two.

“Good job, lad,” Oakes called as Blythe leapt from his horse to collect the rabbits.

“And in good time too,” Garrick said. “We’ll camp over there by the stream.”

They followed Garrick to a clear spot near a small stream. Blythe dismounted and Oakes took the rabbits from him. “Now if we just had a fire, we could roast these right up.”

“I’ll find some wood.” Blythe looked around. Scattered trees grew close to the stream. Thicker trees a little farther off. If he could find dead branches, they’d be dry enough to burn.

“Let Garrick go. You tend to the horses.”

He shrugged and turned to the horses. He unsaddled them under Oakes’ watchful gaze and led them to the stream to drink, pulling Sunny back when he tried to wade into the stream. Then he found them a nice patch of grass near a small group of trees and hobbled them so they could graze without wandering too far. When he returned to where Oakes waited, he confronted the man. “You’re worried I’m going to run away, aren’t you? That’s why you don’t want me hunt for firewood.”

Oakes stopped cleaning the rabbits and looked up at him. “Lad, I just gave you the opportunity to ride off with all three horses.”

Blythe glanced back at the hobbled horses. “Oh.”

“Didn’t even think about it, did you?”

He shook his head.

“I’m good at taking the measure of a man. You aren’t sure about us, but you’ve passed the point of wanting to run away.”

He squatted, resting on his heels. “Does Garrick trust me?” That was the problem. He didn’t want to run away. He wanted desperately to be allowed to stay.

“He wants you to think he’s worth trusting.”

Blythe didn’t have time to question that. Garrick strode back to them and dropped an armload of dead branches on the ground. “Enough?”

“The lad can collect more if we need it,” Oakes said.

Garrick grunted as Blythe moved to arrange the wood for the fire. Blythe paused as a thought came to him. “People will see the smoke. They’ll know we’re here.” He looked around at the trees and the wandering stream. Everything was quiet, but it felt wrong.

Garrick looked back at the empty trail. “We haven’t passed anyone since the village. Should we be concerned?”

“People don’t always like soldiers,” Blythe said. “Felor’s men look for runaways.”

“I doubt we’ll find Felor’s men looking for runaways out here,” Garrick said. “We’re still too close to Stephan’s troops. But we’ll set a guard.”

“What d’ya sense, lad?” Oakes asked.

Blythe shrugged. The fire blazed up. Maybe he was being foolish. He was in a peaceful clearing with two men trained in fighting. No passing villager was going to come near them. People kept their distance from soldiers.

Oakes began removing the meat from the bones of the rabbits. “Find me some straight green sticks to skewer this while you think about it.”

Blythe gathered some green willow branches from beside the stream. When he walked back to Oakes, he had his answer. “Anger. I sense anger. It’s not us. We aren’t angry.”

Oakes nodded. “Probably a farmer or someone who’s dealt with Felor’s soldiers. “

“What are we going to do?”

Garrick dropped down. “Eat and rest. We need rest. The horses need rest, and I don’t want to try to ride them in the dark. We’re not anyone a passing farmer would want to take on. Whoever it is will move on when they realize we aren’t going to.”

Blythe watched Oakes skewer the rabbit. The fire was settling down, and Oakes didn’t look like he was going to wait for long before roasting the now thin strips of rabbit. He heard a nicker. The horses . He didn’t want them wandering, even hobbled. Garrick might think no one would attack them, and he was probably right. But good horses could be sold and a lot of people would feel justified stealing back from Felor’s soldiers. “I’m going to bring the horses closer.”

He’d almost reached Djinn, who was resting under a tree, when a figure rushed him from the trees. The man had a knife, not a sword. Blythe dodged his thrust and kicked the attacker in the knees. The man went sprawling. Blythe spun, checking the area. He didn’t think the man was alone. He saw Garrick and Oakes running his way before he heard a movement behind him.

He jumped, grabbing a branch and swinging himself into the tree as another attacker slashed down with a knife. The man whirled. Blythe pulled himself up higher. He saw a glint of metal as a third man pulled his hand back. When the hand came forward, he dropped.

He landed on the second man, who went sprawling as Garrick’s sword slashed at the first attacker. The thrown knife fell through the branches. If he could grab it, he could use it.

“Get the fuck out of the way, lad,” Oakes yelled, swinging a sword with his good hand.

Something slammed into his back. He fell to the ground, and an arm wrapped around his neck, pulling tight. He struggled against it. Suddenly he was hanging from the walls again, slowly strangling to death. He kicked, trying to hit anything to make the man let go.

*

Garrick finished the first attacker and looked around to see another strangling Blythe. He ran forward, swinging his sword to bring the hilt down on the head of the man, who let Blythe drop. The man stumbled toward Garrick, who slashed with his sword, sending him falling to the ground. On top of Blythe.

Grabbing at the man’s tunic, Garrick dragged him off of Blythe. Blythe didn’t move. There was too much blood for Garrick to tell if he’d been injured.

“Is the lad still with us?” Oakes asked, his sword bloody from his own fight.

Blythe coughed. Garrick let his breath out. “He’s alive. There’s too much blood to know more.” The man had been trying to strangle Blythe, but he might have been stabbed or slashed early in the fray.

He lifted Blythe and rushed to the stream. Lowering him into the flow of water, he stripped the tunic off the lad. Then the trousers. The blood flowed away, leaving the water clear. Garrick couldn’t find any wounds on the slender body, but now Blythe clutched at him, coughing and shivering. “You’re alive,” he said.

“The horses?”

Garrick almost dropped him in surprise. He’d nearly been killed and he was worried about the horses? A glance told him that Oakes had them under control and was leading Risk away from the smell of blood. “They’re fine, Blythe. They’re trained for battle. That little skirmish didn’t even catch their attention.” He stood, lifting Blythe and supporting him. He found his footing as soon as he reached the grass, but Garrick still held him as he led him toward the dwindling fire. He wrapped him in a blanket. “Stay here. Oakes and I will take care of everything.” He’d be the one who’d gather more firewood.

Oakes had finished searching the dead attackers. He had a small collection of knives, flints for starting a campfire and not much else. “The lad sensed right. Is he harmed?”

“Half strangled. I want to build up the fire. I’ll find more wood. You and I will split the guard tonight.”

“Get back to him. I’ll get the wood,” Oakes said, handing over the takings from the dead men.

*

Blythe woke to the pre-dawn light. The fire had died down, but something pressed against his back, keeping him warm. Garrick. He wanted to enjoy the feeling but all he could think was that he’d needed to be rescued yet again. Garrick and Oakes were going to think he was useless. How could he find the fae if he could barely sense a group of attackers when they were practically on top of him? He wasn’t even able to defend himself during an attack. They kept him in the middle when they rode not because they were worried he’d run away, but because they knew they had to protect him.

He let out a big sigh. Garrick muttered and threw an arm around him. He let himself enjoy the warmth of the muscular body against his, but he still wanted to prove himself useful. He looked past the cold fire and past Oakes who sat huddled under a blanket. The stream . They’d need breakfast and there’d be fish in the stream. That was one thing he could do. He’d tickled trout before and early morning was the perfect time.

He wormed his way out from under Garrick’s embrace and realized he was naked. He spotted his clothes near the fire and remembered Garrick stripping him naked in the stream. Well, if he went fishing naked, at least he wouldn’t get everything wet again.

Oakes didn’t move as he walked by. He wasn’t sure if the man was sleeping, but he doubted it. Oakes probably thought he was just heading out to empty his bladder. He needed to do that too, but not where he’d wake the fish. He stopped at a bush on the way to the stream.

He found a spot where the water flowed deep around a cluster of large rocks. He lay on the rocks, making sure his shadow didn’t fall over the water. Then he slowly lowered his hand into the water and under the rock. One finger felt the curve of a tail. He ran his fingers slowly up the belly, moving toward the head. The fish didn’t move.

He had him. He lifted his hand a flipped the fish out onto the bank. It was a good size. He made sure it was far enough away from the water that it couldn’t flip itself back in. Then he moved back to the rocks and leaned over the other side. He felt the edge of the rock, no fish.

Scooting out on the rock, he felt for more fish. They would be there. Somewhere. He slipped off the rock and into the water without raising a splash. He could swim, although the water wasn’t deep enough here to worry about.

He ducked under the water so he could reach the front part of the rock. Another trout. His fingers slipped along it, lulling it to a stupor. Then with a twist, he flipped it out of the water and to the bank. He looked back to check it, and saw Oakes moving to pick it up. The man didn’t call out or say anything. He understood the rules of early morning trout tickling. Blythe moved to the next outcropping of rock with a little surge of pride.

Two more trout, the last the smallest of the group, splashed out of the water. Oakes took the last fish and pulled his knife. “I’ll clean. You gather some wood.”

Blythe nodded and started for the trees. “Lad.” He stopped and looked back. “Go the other direction, and if you sense anyone, anything, come back and tell me. I’ll believe you.”

Blythe stared for a moment in the direction he’d been heading. The same place he’d been attacked the night before. The bodies. He didn’t know what they’d done with them, and he didn’t think he wanted to know. He headed in the other direction.

Chapter 15

Garrick woke to find an empty space beside him. He pushed to one elbow to see Blythe lope by, naked. Blythe didn’t seem to be running from anyone, so with a grunt of appreciation, he sat the rest of the way up. The night would have been better if he’d been able to lie naked beside Blythe, but he’d kept watch half the night then slept fully clothed, ready for another attack. It had been a quiet night, and he wondered how many more quiet nights he’d have to endure before he could wrap his naked body around Blythe’s.

Oakes sat beside the stream and, if he guessed correctly, was cleaning fish. So, they would have breakfast. Garrick clambered to his feet and gathered what was left of the night’s firewood. He rebuilt the fire and had it burning before Blythe was back with an armful of wood.

Garrick smiled at the sight of his lithe body glowing in the morning sunlight. He didn’t know why he was naked, but he approved. “Who caught the fish?”

Blythe dropped down, putting the wood beside the fire. “I did. I know how to tickle them from the water.”

“With your hands?”

Blythe nodded.

“You do have surprising skills.” He wondered if this went with sensing impending attack. Or Blythe’s surprising speed when evading knives. If he hadn’t been as fast as he was, one of the attackers last night might have killed him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t better at fighting.”

Garrick stared at him for a moment. “Blythe, you did fine.” Did he really think they blamed him for being attacked ? It the lad hadn’t gone after the horses when he did, the thieves might have made away with them. Garrick picked up a larger stick and added it to the fire. “He didn’t trust you with a sword, did he?”

Blythe dropped his head. “Not because I’m bad with one.”

“No, I doubt it was.” He could imagine this minor Western knight realizing that the part-fae boy he’d brought home could move faster than any opponent he set him up against. Putting him in training with other boys would have drawn too much attention. It might also have let Blythe know just how fast he was. Would Blythe have stayed in his half-captive position if he’d been armed? “If you’re going to be my squire, you need to learn to use a sword.”

“I will. I’ll—” He looked back toward Oakes.

Garrick tried to interpret the look. “Did Sir Kai train his squires himself?”

“Sir Kai?” The surprise in Blythe’s voice told him what he needed to know.

“Right.” He found a fairly straight branch in the firewood and tossed it to Blythe. He picked up another and rose to his feet. “Take your guard.”

Blythe took his stance, stick sword in front of him, elbows awkwardly pointing out.

Garrick resisted the urge to swing at him. He wouldn’t expect a squire who stood so awkwardly to be able to parry his thrust, but he wasn’t sure exactly how fast Blythe could move. He’d do better explaining and demonstrating than trying to teach by getting through his guard. “No, keep your center pointed toward me and your elbows closer to your side.”

“Center?”

Garrick motioned downward with his sword. “Your center is above your cock. So, if that’s not facing me, you’re off center.” Naked training had its advantage. He’d have to remember it for the future. Blythe adjusted his position. “Feet further apart. No, not that far.”

They were still at it when Oakes returned with the cleaned fish and squatted by the fire to cook them. Blythe’s gaze wavered toward the fish, and Garrick swatted him on the hip with his stick. He got the blow in before Blythe had time to block it, but he was surprised at how fast he came back to center. “Letting your attention falter like that in a fight can be fatal.”

Blythe lowered one hand to rub the spot where Garrick had swatted him. “Yes, sir.”

Garrick swatted him on the other hip. Blythe went back to his center stance with a determined look on his face. “Good. The main guard stances you will learn today are the ox.” He lifted his stick sword above his head. He waited while Blythe mimicked the pose. “Now the plow down in front of you.” Blythe followed his move. “The fool.” He pointed the stick to the ground. “The roof.” He swept the stick up and back over his shoulder. “Finally, the tail.” He dropped the stick back so it pointed behind him. “And back to the ox.” He watched as Blythe brought the sword back above his head. “Good. Now, practice them. I want to see how smoothly you can move.”

He sat and watched Blythe move from one position to another. He could see a red mark on Blythe’s hip where he’d hit him. He knew he was a demanding instructor. If he trained a squire, he wanted the lad to survive his first battle. Not that he planned to throw Blythe into a battle.

Oakes handed him a piece of the fish. He ate it while Blythe repeated his stances. He had to give the lad credit, this time he didn’t even let his glance slide toward the fire and the roasting fish. Garrick gave Oakes a wink.

“Hungry, lad?” Oakes called out.

He didn’t stop practicing.

“Blythe, you may stop now,” Garrick called.

He lowered the stick sword.

“Come eat.”

Blythe took a seat on the grass and accepted the fish Oakes handed him. Garrick leaned back and considered him. He wanted to think that someone had trained him not to eat before his betters, but he was worried that Blythe had learned not to expect to be fed at all. Even if he’d caught the fish. “When you finish eating, you can dress. After Oakes and I shave, not sure you need to, we’ll be on our way.” Blythe started to shove the fish in faster. “Don’t rush. We have plenty of time.”

“Yes, sir.” The words were muttered around a mouthful of fish.

He wasn’t going to tell Blythe he was safe or that he didn’t have to worry about being fed. That was the sort of trust that had to be earned. He only hoped Blythe would still trust him after being used as bait in Stephan’s quest.

*

Blythe wanted to keep practicing. He swung the stick Garrick had given him as they rode. He’d always wanted Kai to train him to use a sword. Kai had said he was too slender and that he wouldn’t be able to hold his own against the larger boys. He had a lot of training to make up for. Maybe Garrick would think he was starting too late.

He swung his stick again. Knights fought from horseback, and he needed to know how to do that without hitting Risk. After the first couple of swings, Risk hadn’t seemed too worried about the stick swinging by his head. He hadn’t tried to buck him since the village the day before. And then he’d only been skittish. “Risk didn’t really throw two squires, did he?”

“He did,” Garrick said. “Mind you, they deserved it. Risk doesn’t suffer fools.”

“How did you know he wouldn’t throw me?”

“Didn’t think you were a fool,” Oakes’ voice came from behind him.

“Risk is a good horse,” Garrick said. “He needed a good rider.”

“Swinging that stick isn’t going to do you much good,” Oakes observed. “Not compared to the weight of a sword.”

“It’s what I have.” He swung the stick again.

Garrick pulled Djinn over and stopped. Blythe pulled Risk to a halt, but Garrick waved him forward. He rode up, and Garrick held something out to him. “Take this.”

It was a sword. Not Garrick’s long battle sword, but the shorter sword that served as a second weapon or that was used for combat in close quarters. Blythe took the sheathed sword in his hand. It was still attached to a leather belt Garrick wore it with.

“Put it on. I have another. I’m not going to trust you swinging a long sword yet. I’m not sure Risk is ready for that either. But last night you were attacked, and we haven’t given you a weapon to defend yourself with.”

Blythe nodded, swallowing past the tightness forming in his throat. He pulled the belt on. It was too long for him and he had to loop the end. He’d have to make another hole if he was going to keep it. Garrick would have worn it over chain mail and a padded leather tunic. He shifted in the saddle, feeling the weight of the sword on his hip. Then he slid it out of the sheath and held it in his hand. He’d held daggers before and the short sword wasn’t much longer than some of those. But this was a sword, not a knife. Garrick’s sword . He wrapped his hand around the hilt. Garrick’s hand was larger than his. The grip had plenty of room. It might have been made to Garrick’s measure. He waved it cautiously. It was lighter than he expected. Certainly better balanced than the stick.

“Take time to get used to the feel of it. Just don’t stab Risk,” Garrick said. “Or yourself.”

He nodded, holding it like it was something sacred. “I’ll take good care of it.”

“Do so and maybe I won’t ask for it back.”

Blythe sat in the saddle holding the sword and staring at Garrick’s back as he rode to take the lead. Garrick had given him a sword. He’d started training him to use one. He really was Garrick’s squire. After a moment, Risk gave a little snicker and followed Djinn.

Chapter 16

Travel was uneventful. Garrick kept Blythe busy with sword practice and his hunting skill kept them all eating well. Blythe smiled more, but he still dropped his shoulders and ducked his head if spoken to suddenly. Some things would come with time. Ahead of them a cart track led toward a village that was barely more than a cluster of cottages and a single barn. Garrick pulled Djinn to a halt. “Do we risk trading for food and a night indoors?” It would be safer than spending another night in the fields, and he wanted to hold Blythe in his arms again.

He saw Blythe shake his head, but Oakes was studying the village with a cautious eye. “We need water and they may have feed for the horses. Let me go first. A man with only one arm isn’t seen as much threat.”

Garrick nodded. “If we can see them, they can see us. So they already know we’re here.”

Oakes turned his horse toward the village. “I’ll have to think up an excuse for my disreputable companions. I’ll do my best. Perhaps I’ll make you my nephew and tell them my brother traveled in foreign lands.”

Garrick nodded. It wasn’t far from the truth. “And Blythe?”

“Another nephew. My sister’s lad. She’s worried about him being caught up in this war, poor lass. You know how a mother can be…” Oakes rode off toward the village, still muttering his story to himself. He sounded as if he almost believed it.

Garrick dismounted and motioned for Blythe to dismount Risk. “I know you’re worried, but we’ll feed the horses better and the villagers can’t pose much danger.”

“They won’t trust us.” Blythe slid from Risk’s back, his gaze still on the village.

“I don’t expect them to, even if they believe Oakes, which they might,” He admitted. He knew one thing that would distract Blythe for a time. “Let’s see how well you’re doing with that sword.”

He pulled his sword and Blythe did the same. “Ox, roof.” He led Blythe through the positions. The lad moved swiftly and with increasing smoothness from position to position. Then Garrick struck unexpectedly and sent the sword flying from his hand. Blythe stood, staring at the sword lying in the dirt of the road and looking shocked.

“We’re going to have to work on your grip.” Speed, grace, but not strength. Not yet. “Now, clean your sword. Oh, and mine.”

“Yes, sir.” Blythe retrieved his sword and looked up. “Oakes is coming back.”

Garrick sheathed his weapon. “You may be cleaning in comfort if we’re lucky.”

*

Blythe looked around the barn and remembered his time with Trow. The stables had been an escape, but this barn was less well appointed. No horses, just a couple of cows and a few goats. The village had been left poor by Felor’s raids. Garrick had been regarded suspiciously. A man with his build should be at war. But Blythe saw some sympathy in the eyes that looked at him. There were no young men in the village. Those had been forced to join Felor’s forces. If there were any children, they were kept hidden. Still, they’d sold Oakes bread, cheese and a decent bit of ham and agreed to let them spend the night in the barn. There was a loft above the animals for them to sleep in.

Garrick had talked another villager into supplying a large jug of ale. Now he stood surveying the ladder to the loft. “I guess we’ll survive the night.”

Blythe scampered up the ladder and looked around. The loft was piled with dry hay. He didn’t smell anything more than their horses and the cows below. There would be mice, but there were always mice. “There’s plenty of hay. It’ll keep us warm during the night. We just need our blankets.”

Garrick tossed up a blanket. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

Blythe felt himself blush as Garrick climbed the ladder and set the jug of ale down on a level space of flooring. He opened the shutters to the loft door and motioned Blythe over to the light. “Let me check for bruises and make sure that all the riding is doing you no harm.”

“I feel fine,” Blythe said. He didn’t want Garrick to think that he couldn’t keep up with him and Oakes.

“Then perhaps I’d just like you to take your clothes off so I can admire you.”

“Should I sleep below?” Oakes asked, his head appearing at the top of the ladder.

Blythe blushed even deeper, but Garrick simply waved Oakes onto the platform. “Tonight we sleep. I want to be away early in the morning. Now, lad, tunic and trousers off.”

He let Garrick lift the tunic over his head and then the undertunic. Then he looked at Oakes.

“I’ll go down and tend to the horses,” Oakes said. “I think I make the lad nervous.”

“It’s just...”

“No need to explain, lad.”

Oakes vanished, and Blythe let Garrick pull his trousers off.

Garrick “hmmed” and studied him. “Your throat is still bruised and your hip where something hit you.” He pulled a small pot from his saddle bag. “A little salve for the bruises. Then you need food and sleep. But perhaps a kiss first. Oakes will be a while at the horses.” He pulled the shutters closed, straightened the blanket and patted it.

Feeling butterflies in his stomach, Blythe moved to the blanket. In the light that filtered through the closed shutters, he could see the outline of Garrick’s strong jaw and close-cropped hair. Garrick leaned close, obscuring the light and kissing him, slowly. Garrick’s tongue teased between his lips, then stopped. “No further. We haven’t eaten and tonight is for sleep. Oakes, are you done seeing to the horses?”

The man reappeared with the food, and Blythe grabbed for his tunic. He draped it over his legs just as Garrick handed him some of the bread and ham with a thick wedge of cheese. He ate hungrily. He still didn’t think they should have risked the town, but the food was good and the barn comfortable. As soon as he finished eating, he dropped to the hay and wrapped a blanket about himself. He didn’t put his clothes back on. He had other plans. He heard the other two men preparing for a night’s sleep then Garrick stretched out beside him.

Blythe waited, holding his breath. Oakes was just a few feet away, but the barn was dark. It wasn’t like the man didn’t know what they did. Or that Garrick cared that he knew. “Maybe if we aren’t noisy,” he whispered.

He heard a soft chuckle as Garrick shifted his position to press close to him. Garrick rustled around in the hay then a hand pressed his thigh. Blythe grasped it and moved it to his growing erection. Garrick’s sword-calloused hand wrapped around him. It was slightly cold with salve but that warmed as Garrick moved along Blythe’s quickly thickening length. He didn’t rush or demand attention. He simply held Blythe to his warmth and stroked him.

Blythe settled against him, soothed and aroused at the same time. He closed his eyes and felt his body move with Garrick’s rhythm. He breathed in and out with it, trying to control the quickening of his arousal. He didn’t want to come, didn’t want Garrick to stop. There was a lazy sensual pleasure in just being like this, and he wanted it to go on forever.

“Quiet now,” Garrick whispered as Blythe drew in a shuddering breath. “Come quietly.”

Blythe’s breath caught again at the feelings that ran through him and the swirl of energy that Garrick always aroused. He came in a gasp of pleasure, not caring if Oakes heard. At least not at that very moment. Then he fell asleep in Garrick’s embrace.

He woke in the night with a desperate sense that something was wrong.

Chapter 17

Garrick roused, realizing Blythe’s warmth had disappeared from his side. He sat up to find him standing at the barn’s window. He took a moment to admire the slim, naked silhouette before he spoke. “You need rest—”

“We need to leave,” Blythe answered. “Now. We need to go now.”

Garrick didn’t question him. He wasn’t sure what had alerted Blythe, but men who questioned might not live to question again. Grabbing his tunic, he rose to his feet and shook Oakes awake. “We’re leaving. Fast.” Oakes nodded, grabbed his weapons and disappeared down the ladder to the horses below. Garrick threw Blythe clothing. “We’ll pack. Get dressed.” While Blythe pulled on trousers and tunic, Garrick tossed the rest of their supplies down to Oakes, who shoved them into the saddle bags.

“We need to hurry,” Blythe whispered.

“We will.” Garrick dropped down to the barn floor to help Oakes saddle the horses.

Blythe scampered down the ladder after him and grabbed Risk’s saddle. “They’re coming.”

“Felor’s men?” Oakes asked.

Blythe shook his head. “The villagers. I can hear them. They think they’re being quiet, but they’re very noisy at being quiet.”

“Do they mean us harm?”

Blythe shrugged as if to say that villagers didn’t gather at night without purpose.

Garrick grabbed a long handled axe from the tools in the barn and handed it to him. He could read the concern in the lad’s eyes. “Not an elegant weapon, but it has more weight than your short sword. You don’t have to hit anyone. They’ll stay out of your way if you swing it around. Just ride and head for the trees. Oakes and I will find you if we become separated.”

“I can fight,” Blythe said.

“We’ve no need to kill a handful of frightened villagers. Just ride.” He nodded at Blythe’s horse. “Risk will see you to safety.” He checked to make sure Oakes was ready and led Djinn to one side of the barn doors. He pulled the door wide.

Oakes rode through first, reins wrapped around his half-arm and sword clasped in his hand. Blythe followed, holding the axe in a white-knuckled grip. Garrick leaped onto Djinn and rode past him.

The villagers were halfway to the barn, a group of old men holding whatever weapons they could find. Garrick saw axes and even a sword in the mix, but he doubted the men had much training in using them. He urged Djinn straight for them, rising in his saddle and waving his sword over his head. He let out a scream that would have woken anyone asleep in the village and heard Oakes’ echoing yell.

It worked. The tight knot of men scattered, surprised to find their quarry on the attack. Garrick swung his sword, trying to miss the men who were falling over each other to get out of his way. Oakes was screaming like one possessed while whirling his sword. Then he spotted Blythe. Two men with heavy poles danced around him, staying just out of range of Blythe’s axe and trying to spook Risk. With a yell, Garrick rode toward them.

Just then, Risk reared up, his hooves kicking at one of the assailants and sending him sprawling on the dirt. Garrick wasn’t sure if the horse had hit the man or if he’d tripped over his own feet in an effort to dodge the horse’s hooves. Blythe managed to stay in the saddle and struggled to get Risk under control. For a moment, Garrick regretted giving the lad so strong a horse, but then Blythe had Risk on the road and galloping for the trees. Garrick looked back. Oakes seemed to be having fun as he chased a couple of men around the area in front of the barn, screaming and waving his sword. Garrick whistled for him and started toward the trees. He could hear the hoof beats as Oakes followed.

The villagers didn’t pursue them as they rode past the scanty fields that surrounded the village. Risk had made good his escape and was heading down a westward road at a dangerous speed for a dark night. Blythe was bent so low on his back that he seemed to blend with the horse. Garrick nudged Djinn into pursuit and hoped someone had taken time to keep the road in good condition. He saw Blythe rise enough to look back and held up his hand. Blythe reined Risk in.

“Ease up,” Garrick said, drawing next to him. “We’re well away.”

Blythe let Risk slow to a walk. He looked back toward the village, and the empty road seemed to reassure him. “Did we kill any?”

“No. We just gave them a good scare.” He was glad of that. He’d killed enough men in battle, but he had no reason to want to harm a group of frightened farmers.

Blythe lifted the axe he still held. “What should I do with this?”

Garrick gave the axe a closer look. It was a tool, not a weapon. Still, it had been left in the barn where they could find it. That made him suspect that the villagers hadn’t planned to attack them when they’d agreed to let them stay. Something had changed their mind, and he didn’t think he’d rest easy until he knew what that was. “Hold onto it. We’ll rig something to carry it with. This journey is turning out to be more dangerous than I expected.”

“Should we stay on the road?” Oakes asked riding alongside them. “If you can call this a road.”

“I don’t want to risk the horses on open ground at night,” Garrick said. He studied the stretch of dirt that was leading them away from the village. He could see where grass was overtaking the edges. “Though I don’t know how much better this is.”

“Easier to follow us if we stick to it,” Oakes observed, reading Garrick’s thoughts.

“The villagers won’t follow,” Blythe said. “They just wanted us, me, away.”

“They couldn’t have known,” Garrick began but Blythe only nodded, his face a study in misery.

“The lad’s figured it out,” Oakes said. “I should have said something myself, but I hoped no one would make much of it.”

“Of what?” he asked, wondering what Blythe and Oakes had both figured out that had escaped him.

“When we were together,” Blythe muttered. “They felt it.”

“Aye, lad. It was subtler this time. Just a soft release of joy.”

Garrick looked from one to the other. Then he realized what they meant. He should have thought of it himself, but he’d always felt Blythe’s reaction to their love making so closely he’d forgotten that according to Oakes, others could also feel it. He laughed. “So that’s why. Excellent.” The other two stared at him, surprised by his reaction. “Don’t you two idiots see? They didn’t plan on attacking us when they let us stay. They didn’t decide on that until they discovered Blythe was fae and that didn’t happen until they felt what Oakes felt.”

“Aye,” Oakes said, beginning to understand. “So, they knew what caused that feeling.”

“Which means they’ve experienced the feeling before. So they’ve encountered fae before,” Garrick concluded.

“And tried to kill them,” Blythe added.

“Well, you can’t have everything, lad,” Oakes said with a chuckle. “Besides I don’t think their heart was really in it.”

“They didn’t want us dead,” Garrick said. “As long as we were well away from the village. It’s possible Felor still has some men patrolling the area for suspected fae. We can’t risk any more villages.”

“We’re heading toward the forest,” Blythe said. “We may not find any more villages.”

As Garrick led the way silently along the narrowing track, he decided Blythe might be right. The road had fallen into disuse as if there was no longer anyone this side of the village to trade with. The village they’d left must have been deemed too far from the forest to have close contact with the fae. Or it was small enough to have escaped notice now that Felor’s attentions were focused on the war with Stephan. It might have been a mistake to stop there, but it had answered an important question. There might still be others like Blythe hiding somewhere. If they couldn’t hide in the villages, perhaps they had taken to the forests, like their fae ancestors.

*

Dawn was breaking when Garrick called for a halt. When Garrick dismounted, Blythe did the same, looking warily around him. The place felt too open. They could be spotted by anyone riding down the road. Though it didn’t look as if anyone had traveled this way in a long time.

“Safe to make a fire?” Oakes asked.

“Best not,” Garrick said. “I doubt our hosts have any desire to meet up with us again, but I want to keep riding.” He pulled out what was left of the food from the village. “I’d hoped for a little better breakfast than this.”

“Blythe can hunt rabbits for us,” Oakes suggested. “There’ll be plenty in the meadow.”

“Can’t risk it,” Garrick said. “I don’t want him spotted by anyone while he’s on his own. We’ll ride on soon enough.”

So he’d been right. Garrick didn’t want to spend too much time here. He was relieved by that. They needed to let the horses graze and rest after being ridden hard, but they shouldn’t camp here. He knew that. He just wasn’t sure why.

“So, which way do we ride?” Oakes asked.

Garrick scanned the landscape, considering, and Blythe pointed. “The forest we want will be in that direction.” He knew that even though he didn’t recognize the area they were in. It was as if the scent of the trees was carried on the breeze told him.

“What do you sense, lad?” Oakes asked.

“Fear back where the village is. The forest that way.” He paused, letting himself go quiet. “And sorrow. There’s sadness that way, but it’s the way we need to go.”

Oakes nodded, and Garrick passed around what was left of bread and cheese. Blythe took his share though it did little to assuage his hunger. He’d look for rabbits as they rode. He knew Garrick would set an easy pace for the sake of the horses. If they found a stream, they’d stop for water, and he could fish. He didn’t think they’d see another village. At least not one with people. Not in the direction they were heading.

*

Blythe was drooping in the saddle by the time Garrick called for a halt near a small pond with a thick stand of willows on one side. He slid from Risk’s back and held onto the saddle for a moment while his legs remembered what solid ground felt like. There was an hour of sunlight left and chores to be done. He’d managed to get some rabbits while they rode, so they would have food. He pulled out the axe. “I’ll get some wood.”

“No.” Garrick strode over and took the axe from him. “You’re about to collapse. Help Oakes with the horses, then rest. I’ll see to the wood.”

“I’m fine,” he protested, but let Garrick take the axe from his hands.

Oakes handed him the lead ropes for the horses. “They can drink from the pond. Watch Sunny. He likes to splash.”

Blythe nodded absently and headed toward the pond. Risk snorted suspiciously at the water until Djinn ducked his head down to take a drink. As Oakes had warned, Sunny tugged on his lead, trying to splash into the water. Blythe pulled his head to one side until he stepped back. He wasn’t sure how deep the water was and he’d be brushing the big horse all night if he let him get wet.

When the horses had finished drinking, he led them to the stand of willows and tied Sunny’s rope to the sturdiest tree. He tied Risk and Djinn too though he suspected that Djinn would have stayed near Garrick even if he’d been left to wander. Risk would be more easily startled into flight, though the he seemed happy to stay near the group.

Garrick emerged from the trees with an armful of wood. “Sunny try to swim in the pond?”

“Do you think the tree is big enough to stop him?” He tugged on the branches, just to be sure. The tree bent a little but seemed sturdy enough. “I’m sorry about the village.” He needed to apologize, even though Garrick didn’t seem angry about it.

“I’ve never had a squire get me chased out of a village before.” He grinned and gestured toward Oakes, who was skinning the rabbits. “Hungry?”

Blythe followed him. Garrick wasn’t angry . They were still traveling to find the fae. He had a sword. And Oakes was soon roasting rabbit over the campfire. He sat on a blanket and leaned against his saddle. He didn’t think his mind had caught up with the past few days.

*

This time they let him take the first watch. He thought either Oakes or Garrick would stay awake. He didn’t really expect them to trust him, so he was surprised when both men dropped off to sleep, their soft snoring and the snuffling of the horses blending with the night noise. For a long time, he sat staring into the growing darkness alert for any sign of danger, but the night was quiet.

It wasn’t the road that called to him. The moon rose and his eyes adjusted to the dim light. He stood, moving away from the fire. The pond. The stand of willow . It wasn’t random. There should have been something else here. A hut . Someone had lived here. Someone had planted those willows. He was sure of it.

His feet led him to the willows, and he wove his way between the trees. Willows grew quickly. They liked water. But these weren’t a forest. They were too tame. These were human grown trees. Or at least, mostly human.

There was nothing left except a circle of ash where the hut had stood. He didn’t know how he found it in the darkness. Or how he’d known it would be here. But he’d known. He dropped to his knees and ran his fingers over the ash. He found bits of charred wood. The hut had been built of the same willow that grew near the pond. But what his fingers found next wasn’t wood. They traced the shape of a rib bone.

“Blythe?” Garrick’s voice was soft in the darkness.

“They hid here,” he said. “Away from all the villages and Felor’s soldiers. They hid, but they were found. Even out here, Felor’s men found them and killed them.

Hands covered his shoulders. “They died a long time ago, Blythe. Long enough for the trees to recover and hide the signs of the fire. Let’s go back to camp.”

He nodded and let Garrick take him back. How could they hope to find someone like him if Felor’s men had been so thorough at hunting them down? He wrapped himself in a blanket but didn’t fall asleep until Garrick’s watch finished and he felt Garrick’s strong arms wrap around him.

Chapter 18

The next day of travel started calmly, and Blythe stopped looking over his shoulder every few minutes. The villagers weren’t going to follow them this far.

At mid-morning they noticed a cluster of huts in the distance. Garrick raised his hand for them to halt, but didn’t leave the trail. “What do you think?”

“Doesn’t look very promising,” Oakes said.

Blythe studied the stream of smoke that flowed upward from the huts and faded into the sky. Smoke could mean someone was alive and tending to a cooking fire. It could also mean something else . He rose in his saddle, peering in to the distance. He didn’t see any sign of men or troops.

“What’s worrying you?”

He glanced over to Garrick and then back to the huts. “It doesn’t feel right. If Felor’s men killed whoever lived at the pond, why leave this group?”

“None of them had pointy ears?”

He shook his head. “We’re too close to the forest. Felor’s men would want to burn anything this close, especially if whoever lived at the pond had pointed ears.” Garrick didn’t understand. He didn’t come from the right country to understand, but Blythe knew they shouldn’t approach that cluster of huts.

“Maybe they set up after that. There’s no sign of soldiers. Besides, I think Stephan has Felor too busy to be out burning villages.”

“Something is burning now.”

“Is that what’s worrying you?” Oakes asked. “The smell is wrong. That’s just wood smoke, lad. Nothing more. Still, perhaps we best ride past at a distance.”

Blythe relaxed back into his saddle, glad Oakes wasn’t suggesting that they try to barter for supplies. He’d have felt better when they moved on if he hadn’t realized that anyone at the huts would notice three men on horses on a deserted road.

The sun rose higher in the sky and the road became a blur of grass and stone. Blythe took out his short sword to practice his swing. Garrick hadn’t trusted him with the sword when the villagers had attacked. He’d told him to use the axe instead. An axe took less skill. He was going to prove to Garrick that he had the skill to handle a sword.

He swung the sword back toward Risk’s tail then forward and over his head. A sound caught his attention. A rustle in the brush to the side of the trail. His gaze swung that way just as a man burst from the brush ready to swing an axe at Garrick, who was riding lead.

Blythe didn’t think. He didn’t have time to. He’d just swung the sword above his head. Now he brought his arm forward, letting the sword fly. The weapon wasn’t a balanced throwing knife, but his aim had always been good. The blade slammed into the face of the man holding the axe, sending him sprawling.

Garrick wasn’t slow to react. He was a soldier and rode with his own weapons positioned for easy access. Now he had his sword out and whirled Djinn to take down the next attacker. Blythe fumbled for the axe he had strapped to his saddle as a man rushed him from the brush on the other side of the trail. Risk reared up, and the man dodged the flying hooves.

Blythe held on to the reins. He couldn’t risk swinging the axe around while Risk was rearing and kicking. But the horse seemed determined not to let anyone near him, and he slowly realized that the man who’d come after him wasn’t swinging a weapon.

Did they know he was fae ? They’d want to take him for burning if they did. But he’d kept his ears covered, and he doubted the villagers would have told. It wouldn’t do them any good to be seen as sheltering fae scum. Wielding his sword better with one hand than Blythe did with two, Oakes took down one of the attackers.

They couldn’t know he was fae, Blythe decided, but these men had decided he wasn’t dangerous enough to kill outright. He was young and able-bodied. They’d be able to sell him to a press-gang rounding up new soldiers for Felor’s war. Garrick and Oakes were too dangerous. Better to kill them and take the horses.

Except things hadn’t worked out the way the attackers had planned. Four bodies now lay on the grass near the road, and Garrick had risen up in his saddle to search for any more attackers. Blythe finally managed to get Risk settled and loosen the axe from its bindings, but there was no one left to fight.

He watched as Garrick dismounted Djinn and turned over the first attacker to find his short sword lying in the grass beneath him. Blythe slipped from his saddle. He’d lost his weapon before the battle had even begun, and once again, the other two men had to protect him .

Garrick advanced on him, holding the short sword in his left hand and pointing his bloodied long sword at him. “If you dare apologize for throwing this, I—” Garrick paused, as if trying to think of a fitting punishment— “I won’t give it back. You saved my life with that throw.”

“I...oh.” Blythe stopped as Garrick lowered the sword, stepped forward and kissed him with force. Now the two swords clanked behind him as Garrick wrapped him in his arms. He could feel the sweat on Garrick’s skin and smell the iron tang of blood from the fallen men on the sword. He could hear the pounding of Garrick’s heart as the battle lust ran through him. He wrapped an arm around Garrick’s neck and pulled him closer.

Garrick gave in. His tongue hot in Blythe’s mouth and his thickening cock rubbing against Blythe’s hip. Then he pulled back. “By the gods, lad, what you do to a man. We need to ride. There might be others nearby.”

“Are we going to leave the bodies lying where they fell?” Oakes asked from Sunny’s back.

“What would you suggest?” Garrick responded, not turning from Blythe and looking very much like he wanted to continue kissing him. “I don’t want to take time to bury them.”

“They might have come from the huts we passed,” Blythe suggested. “They’d have seen us on the road.”

Oakes grunted. “Good thinking, lad. These aren’t poor farmers. They’re soldiers, of a sort. Rough, poorly trained and older than a man in his prime would be. Could be some sort of patrol for this area.”

Now Garrick took interest. “Out this far? What’s there to patrol?” He looked around at the fields and rough brush. “There’s no reason for Stephan’s troops to even come this way.”

Blythe could see a dark line in the distance. A blur on the horizon. The forest. He pointed. “They’re watching for anything coming from that direction. Anything coming from the forest.”

“They kept watch from quite a distance then.” Oakes said. “Almost like they didn’t want to go any closer.”

“Then that’s the direction we ride in,” Garrick said. “Leave the bodies.” He flipped the short sword in his hand and offered it to Blythe. “Mount up, my lad, and keep an eye out while we ride. We’re not stopping until we’re well away from this spot.”

*

Garrick set a difficult pace, pushing both them and the horses. Risk seemed happy to run. Garrick kept his sword at hand so Blythe hung on to the short sword, but they weren’t attacked again. When they reached a shallow stream, Garrick held up his hand for them to stop.

They let the horses drink while Garrick surveyed the landscape. “I think we’re well away from any followers. They’d have to ride to keep up with us, and we’d have caught sight of them. We’ll give the horses a rest, but we’ve enough daylight to put more distance behind us.”

“What’d’ya feel, lad?”

Blythe looked at Oakes in surprise. “Feel?”

“You were worried about the huts, and we were attacked. So, what do you feel around us now?”

Blythe took a few steps away from the horses and stilled himself. He could feel the breeze and once again, the sadness it carried. He pointed. “It’s that way. Nothing alive. Just sadness.”

Garrick looked from him to Oakes. “Do we go that way?”

“Aye,” Oakes said. “Out here, we won’t find anything that isn’t wrapped in sadness.”

Blythe wasn’t happy with the decision, but Oakes was right. It was that sense of sadness that called to him. He mounted Risk and they crossed the stream, riding at a gentle pace. He hunted as they rode. The rabbits seemed to have lost their fear of man in this deserted land, and he soon had plenty for dinner. They reached the village, or rather what was left of it, just before evening fell. Blythe came to a halt on the overgrown trail that led to the charred remains of the fire and the blackened stones that had once been walls for a larger building.

“By all the gods,” Garrick breathed.

“I don’t want go there,” Blythe said, fighting against the pull of deep emptiness and sorrow.

“There’s nothing left that can harm you, lad,” Oakes said, his voice heavy with sadness. “Nothing left at all.”

“We need to look around,” Garrick said. “There should be a well, and we need water. Perhaps Felor found fae here.”

“Of course he found fae. That’s why they burned it,” Blythe snapped. Garrick turned to stare at him, and he waited for the reprimand. It didn’t come. Instead Garrick simply nudged Djinn toward the village and the ruins. Blythe wanted to run. To hide . No, he told himself. He was Garrick’s squire, and a squire stayed by his knight.

“I wonder if any made it to the village we stayed at,” Garrick said.

“Might not have helped if they did,” Oakes said.

“No,” Blythe said, his voice as dead as the village. “Look at the fire. Look close.”

Garrick dismounted and strode to the large burned area in the center of the village. Blythe watched as he bent down and moved his hand over the ashes. He picked something up. Then something else. Another. Then he stood with the fire-scorched objects still in his hand and stared at the blacked space. “Bones. Human. Hundreds. They burned them. All of them?”

“They chase them down,” Blythe whispered. “If another village let them in, then they’d burn that village too.”

*

Garrick walked back to where Blythe sat astride Risk. He put one hand on the horse’s neck and looked up at the lad. “You escaped. Blythe, there is every chance that others have too, and we may yet find them.” Perhaps he needed to see Blythe here, among the burned ruins, to understand him. Kai may have rescued Blythe, but he’d hidden him among those who would have burned him as callously as they had this village. All Blythe had ever known was fear and hiding. Garrick had brought him back to it, back to the heart of the danger, and asked Blythe to trust him while doing it. He put a hand on Blythe’s arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll camp outside the village.”

Blythe nodded, but he didn’t look reassured. Garrick gave his arm another squeeze. It was too late to ride far. He mounted Djinn and led the way out of the village. Blythe followed silently, as if he were in a daze. That worried Garrick. Even Oakes was watching him more carefully.

They set up camp in a field that must have been set aside for grazing. It had once been sown with rye and some areas grew heavy with clover. All that remained of the fence that surrounded it were stone posts. Garrick hobbled the horses and went in search of wood for the fire. He couldn’t ask Blythe to find something to burn, not in this place. Blythe sat facing away from the village and looking off into the distance. Oakes gave him a glance then headed quietly toward the village. If he found a well, he’d bring back enough water for them. And later he’d take the horses to drink without disturbing Blythe.

Garrick found enough remnants of what had been the fence to make a fire and gave Blythe another look. He was shivering. He took out one of the blankets and laid it over Blythe’s shoulders. “Come sit near the fire.” He wasn’t used to indulging his men, particularly not squires. War was a harsh business. But not, he thought, as harsh as watching everyone you knew burned in front of you when you were a helpless child. He dropped to his heels and gave Blythe’s shoulders a squeeze.

“I want to kill him.” his voice was oddly hollow.

“Who?”

“Felor. I want to kill him for what he did here. And in my village. I want him dead.”

Garrick couldn’t think of any reason to object to that. “I understand.”

“Why do we have to find the fae? Why can’t we just go kill Felor?”

He sat down, trying to think of a reason for that. Why were they seeking a vanished race when the real problem was riding in the opposite direction? Because he’d promised Stephan? But after what he’d seen, would there be any fae even left to find? Felor might not have managed to capture or destroy them all, but would they have stayed in this area? They might have retreated into the deepest forest they could find. “We both know why.”

Blythe shrugged off his arm and the blanket and rose. He stalked across the grazing grounds. Garrick watched him. He was still watching when Oakes returned.

“Give him time, Garrick. He’ll calm down.”

“What are we doing out here? I should have stayed with Stephan and gone after Felor.” He wasn’t used to questioning his choices. Even choices that involved plunging headlong into danger.

“You didn’t kill those people back there, Garrick. Felor’s men did. Blythe couldn’t have saved his village, but maybe he needs to understand that. When you’ve done what you need, we’ll rejoin Stephan.”

“He needs training.” Maybe it would help if he forced himself to think of Blythe as a squire.

“Then teach. Take out that long sword of yours and let him feel the weight of it. Let him swing at one of those fence posts until he drops from exhaustion.”

“He’s not swinging my sword against a stone post.” Other than that, the plan had merit.

Oakes picked up a heavy stick that he hadn’t put on the fire. “If it’s still in one piece when he’s done, he isn’t hitting hard enough.”

*

Blythe could hear Garrick’s footfalls coming up behind him. No doubt he’d be punished for stalking off and ignoring the chores that needed to be done. He set his shoulders. He didn’t care. At least that was what he told himself.

He heard Garrick’s sword slide from its sheath. He held still, waiting. Was Garrick going to hit him with it? He braced himself and waited. The sword appeared upright in the ground in front of him. “Take it.”

He stared at it. This was a long sword, a knight’s weapon. Garrick must expect him to clean it. He wrapped his hands around the hilt and pulled it out of the dirt.

“Are you ready to wield the weight of that in battle against Felor?” Garrick’s words fell heavily into the stillness surrounding them.

“I can learn.” Learn to be a knight and kill Felor himself .

“By standing here staring off into the distance?” Garrick demanded. “Show me the guard positions again. This time with a real sword in your hands.”

He raised the sword. It felt heavy in his hands as he adjusted his grip on the hilt then he felt the weight shift. The balance was perfect. Now the heaviness was something he could use. Something he could kill a man with. He turned, holding the sword out in front of him. When he faced Garrick, he moved into the first guard position.

“Center more towards me.” Garrick ordered. “Watch the position of those legs. Now, the roof.”

He lifted the sword into position over his head.

“Too slow. Boar position.”

It was an awkward move with the length of the sword.

“Ox. Fool. Ox.” Garrick spit out the commands. Blythe struggled to keep up with them. “Your stance is sloppy. You’ve lost your center. Roof again.”

He pulled himself back to the position, focusing to center himself on Garrick. Sword up. Elbows in. Feet...he shuffled them into position.

“Boar.”

He moved into the new position, not sure if he should focus on speed or keeping the proper position. He knew he was too slow, but Garrick’s expression didn’t say anything.

“Roof.”

He pulled the sword up.

“Watch the feet.”

They went on like that until his world became nothing but Garrick’s voice and guard positions.

“Stop.”

He lowered the sword and waited.

“Are you tired?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. We’ll eat. Then you’re going to take that piece of wood and practice moving from guard to strike against a fence post until I tell you to stop. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it helping?”

He shifted his feet, realizing he did feel a little better. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now come eat dinner.”

He followed Garrick back to the campfire, aware that he was still carrying the sword.

Garrick sat down and dropped the sheath at his feet. “Clean the sword.”

Oakes tossed him a bit of cloth. He wiped the sword blade carefully and slid it into the sheath. He then cleaned the hilt and the sheath. Garrick ate a piece of rabbit as he watched him. Blythe held the sheathed sword out to him.

“Acceptable. Put it aside and eat.”

Oakes passed him some rabbit. He tore into it, suddenly aware how hungry he was.

Chapter 19

Blythe woke in the night. He lay listening to Garrick’s deep breathing and Oakes’ snoring. They hadn’t set a guard, but they’d settled to sleep in their clothes. This place didn’t invite intimacy, but no one would come near them here. Burned villages held more fear than any army could raise. But something had woken him. As he lay there, a shudder ran through his body as if a cold hand were stroking his arm. Then it was gone. He sat up, wrapping his arms around his knees. The wind was coming from the direction of the burned village. Garrick and Oakes thought it was empty, but empty places didn’t feel like this. An emptiness couldn’t call to him .

He sat there staring into the darkness. In the distance, he could make out the stone walls that had remained standing. All that was left. That and the voices that called to him.

He rose silently, leaving the two men sleeping and walking toward the village. A full moon hung in the sky, and he could smell the scent of summer grass under his feet. The scent of the living world. But not everything here was among the living. He could hear the dead calling on the breeze, a sound like the rustling of dried leaves that echoed inside his skull.

He’d heard that sound before. Long ago. He remembered it from the day his village had burned. He’d been out in the forest looking for berries, but he’d heard the cries and screams on the wind. Sometimes he still heard them. So soft and distant they could only come from the dead themselves. Voices calling for help. For rescue. This wasn’t his village, but the voices still called.

He stumbled into the village center and knelt on the edge of the burned space. “I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t help,” he pleaded. He reached out, his fingers closing around hard, white bones.

“Answer us now.” The voice was a command. “You have a sword. Fight for us. Help us.”

He shook his head, wanting to object. To run away. Again. This time the voices held him. The child he was couldn’t have helped, but he was no longer a child. A shape began to glow around his hand. He lifted it, holding the bone. The glow formed itself into the shape of an arm. A white and foggy arm that extended out and formed a shoulder. The shape became that of a man.

The spectral shape nodded at Blythe then stepped back, separating from him. It raised its hand and a mist rose from the ground around him. It flowed closer to him, circling him, touching him. Shapes grew from it, moving away to surround him, watching with dark, hollow eyes.

“Know us,” the voice said. “Call us forth.”

He opened his mouth but no sound came. Deep cold seemed to come at him as the mist closed in. He shivered so harshly it felt as if the cold came from his core. He fell forward into the ashes of the long dead fire.

*

Garrick woke to a sudden chill and the sense that someone was calling him. “Blythe?” He sat up, expecting to find Blythe’s sleeping form, but the space beside him was empty. He could hear Oakes snoring a short distance away, but Blythe was nowhere to be seen.

He rose. Blythe must have gone to relieve himself, which meant he’d be nearby. He turned, surveying the field. All three horses dozed a few yards away, showing no signs of danger. But nowhere did anything move that could have been human.

“Oakes.”

The man was awake in an instant, alarmed by the tone of his voice.

“Blythe is gone.”

Oakes rose, looking around. “The lad won’t have gone far.”

“He shouldn’t be gone at all.” He should have insisted on standing guard, but he thought they were far enough away from anyone living to be safe. Certainly he would have woken if there had been an attack. He could see no sign of struggle. Blythe’s blanket lay as if the lad had simply woken and walked away.

Oakes grunted, peering into the night. “The village?”

“Why would he go there?” But Garrick was already moving in that direction. There was nowhere else to go, unless Blythe was wandering down the empty road away from the village. If that were so, he and Oakes could easily catch up to him on the horses after they checked the village.

The dark walls of the ruined house loomed larger as they grew close, but there was no sign of Blythe. Could someone have taken him prisoner? Someone searching the old village for remaining fae? “We should have set a guard.”

“I’ll not disagree,” Oakes said. “But the lad would have called out if he were attacked.”

There was that. Searchers would have found it difficult to take Blythe without waking either him or Oakes. Then he spotted the dark figure sprawled on the remains of the fire. He ran. “Blythe!”

The figure didn’t move, but now he could make out the pale hair in the moonlight. He reached him and lifted him from the ground. His body was cold, and Garrick felt his heart sink. He pulled Blythe close and felt the soft rise of his chest. “He’s still breathing.”

Oakes dropped to one knee. “Is he injured?”

Garrick ran his hands over Blythe. “I don’t feel any blood, but he’s as cold as the grave.” He felt himself shiver as if cold were rising into him. “It’s the ground. It’s almost frozen. What would make it so cold?”

Oakes laid a flat palm on the earth and then let some dust run through his fingers. “I don’t know, but you’re not wrong, lad.”

Garrick rose, lifting Blythe in his arms. Whatever had happened was tied to this place. “We have to get him away from here.” He looked down at the ashes of the burned. “Far away.”

Oakes rose. “I’ll head back and saddle the horses.”

He could hear Oakes thudding toward the camp and the horses as he followed with Blythe in his arms. He could hear Blythe’s soft breath, but he didn’t wake or move. Cold seemed to flow from his body.

Oakes soon had the horses saddled and their belongings packed. Together they got Blythe on Djinn and Garrick mounted behind him. Oakes mounted Sunny and took hold of Risk’s reins. Garrick rode as fast as he dared let Djinn run on a dark night. There was moonlight to guide them, but he didn’t know the land and he couldn’t afford to lose the horse to a broken leg from a fall.

Then they lost the road. Garrick was annoyed, but not particularly surprised. Since no one traveled it or bothered with the upkeep, nature had been reclaiming it. At night with only moonlight to guide them, they’d wandered off it and onto a smooth stretch of grassland that might once have been pasture. When Blythe began to shiver in his arms, Garrick held him close. “Blythe, can you hear me?”

A soft moan answered him. Garrick searched the landscape for any signs of a likely place to stop. No lights burned. No village smoke wafted on the breeze. A heavy tree line darkened the sky in front of them. Then he caught a glint of moonlight off a stretch of water. “We’ll cross the stream, then stop,” Garrick said.

“So ya believe in the power of running water to stop ghosts, do ya, lad,” Oakes muttered softly.

Garrick had no answer to give.

They found a shallow section of stream where rocks broke the surface and the horses splashed easily through it. As soon as they’d reached the other side, Oakes was off Sunny and layering blankets on the ground. Then he helped Garrick get Blythe off of Djinn. “Strip, my lad,” he ordered Garrick as he tugged at Blythe’s clothing.

“He’s freezing already,” Garrick said. “Stripping him won’t help.”

“Not just him. Both of you. Strip down, strip the lad down and wrap in the blankets. Both of you. Body heat. It’ll be faster than getting a fire started. Start with your clothes. You don’t want the lad to be cold longer than needed.”

He was right. Garrick stripped off his clothing then helped Oakes get Blythe out of his clothes.

“On the blankets with you. We need something between him and the ground.” Garrick lay down and let Oakes lower Blythe on top of him. The man threw the other blankets over both of them and then added their travel cloaks for good measure. “Now stay there while I build a fire and heat some stones to help warm him.”

Garrick considered his position. “Where am I likely to go?”

Oakes chuckled and vanished out of sight with the axe. Garrick held Blythe and watched as the sun began to rise.

*

Blythe became aware of light and warmth. Whatever bed he was on was steadily moving up and down. “’m I alive?” he muttered.

The bed shifted and arms held him close. “Why did you wander off?” Garrick asked softly.

“Wander?” He tried to figure out why he was lying on top of Garrick. Not that he wanted to move. “Where?” The village . He remembered now. He’d gone to the village. “They called me.”

“Who? There was no one there,” Garrick said. “We found you on the ground, half frozen.”

“The fire. It was cold.” He pieced memories together. “They called me. I told them I couldn’t save them. I was just a child. I could only hide.”

“A nightmare?” Oakes asked from somewhere above him.

“A nightmare wouldn’t leave him freezing,” Garrick said. “Blythe, do you remember what happened?”

He remembered the ghostly figures surrounding him. And the cold. “They called me. I don’t know how to do what they want.”

“It’s all right, Blythe,” Garrick said. “Of course you don’t. Could it have been just a nightmare? Maybe fae sleepwalk when they have a nightmare?” The last was directed to Oakes.

“After what the lad’s been through, nothing would surprise me,” Oakes answered. “That first night he wandered to your tent, he didn’t seem to be fully aware of where he was. The village would have stirred up old memories.”

Garrick shifted, moving Blythe off of him but leaving him wrapped in cloaks and blankets. “He needs something to eat.”

Oakes hmmed. “We finished yesterday’s rabbits, and he’s the best hunter of the three of us.”

Blythe pushed to an elbow. “I can try—” The sun was just rising. He might find some rabbits.

“No.” Garrick pushed him back down. “I don’t want you moving around until I know you’re warm and fed. There’s a stream. I’ll find us a fish or two.”

Blythe watched as Garrick dug into the pile Oakes had made of their belongings. He found his weapons and rose with a “ha” of satisfaction. Then he strode off toward the stream, naked and with his sword in hand. Blythe took in the width of the shoulders and the play of muscles under the dark skin. He liked watching Garrick when he was naked. But he didn’t understand the sword. “What’s he going to do? Fight the fish?”

Oakes chuckled. “It’s a game they play, he and Stephan. Who is better with a sword? Not just at fighting. They set interesting challenges for one another. Just watch.”

He had no objection to watching. He made himself comfortable in the bundle of blankets and clothing and watched as Garrick found a likely spot in the stream and knelt motionless beside it. After a time, he raised the sword slowly and then struck the water with surprising swiftness. The sword came up with a large fish impaled on it. Garrick removed the fish and tossed it on the grass then went back to his waiting position.

He was beautiful and naked in the sunlight. In the bright sunlight, Blythe could just see the line of a scar running down one side of his back and wondered how he’d come by it. Then the sword flashed again and Garrick added a second fish to the first. He paused and studied the water, but instead of resuming his waiting posture, rose and picked up the fish. He headed back to them.

“For Blythe,” he said, tossing the fish to Oakes. “I want to get food into him quickly. I’ll find more for us.”

Blythe sat up. “I can help.”

“No.” Garrick pointed with the sword. “Back down with you. I’m not sure exactly what happened at the village, but today you do nothing but rest and eat.”

“So we’re not riding today,” Oakes commented. “The horses will be glad of a rest. And if you two are going to spend the day naked, I can do some washing after we eat.”

“Let me catch a few more fish before you scare them all away pounding our clothing on a convenient rock,” Garrick said. This time he headed farther up the stream to fish.

Blythe lay watching him while Oakes cleaned and cooked the fish. Garrick was back with more by the time the first batch was ready. Blythe accepted a piece that had been roasted on a rock beside the fire. The first taste set his stomach growling for more.

“Eat all you want,” Garrick said. “You still look pale and that worries me. Do you remember anything more about last night?”

Blythe shook his head. He still remembered the dead calling to him, but didn’t know how to explain that he was sure it wasn’t a nightmare.

Chapter 20

They’d eaten. Oakes had washed their clothing and spread it out the grass to dry. Blythe was sitting beside the stream, still naked, when Garrick dropped beside him. “You look much better than you did earlier this morning. The color is coming back to your face. I was worried I’d have to insist you spend the entire day lying down.”

“I might not have minded that,” Blythe said. He could spend the rest of the day staring at Garrick’s naked body, but he knew what questions would come next. Garrick still wanted to know what happened to him. He looked at the water. “I don’t remember what happened. Except for the ghosts.”

“That’s not why I joined you.” Garrick cupped Blythe’s chin, turning Blythe toward him. Garrick’s lips met his in a gentle kiss. “I was made for war,” he said when their lips parted. “Made to serve my king.”

“I know.”

“I never thought I would find love, Blythe.”

“You love Stephan,” he replied. That had been obvious .

“I do. But I need someone who loves me in return.” Garrick looked down at the water, and Blythe could see a blush rising up his neck and to his cheeks. Garrick never blushed like that. “I love you, Blythe. You don’t have to be worried all the time. I’ll train you to be a knight, if that’s what you want, but you don’t have to do that to stay with me. And you don’t have to find other fae. Tomorrow we head back to find Stephan. I’m not going to risk what happened last night happening again.”

“No.”

Garrick turned to him, his eyes wide and his mouth open in shock.

“Wait. Not, no, I don’t love you.” Blythe reached out to grab his arm. He’d wanted to hear Garrick say this and now he was messing it up. “Of course I love you. I mean, no, we can’t turn back.”

Garrick relaxed his shoulders a bit. “Blythe, Stephan won’t try to take you from me.”

He knew Garrick was right, but he also knew now that there were other things that mattered more. Whatever had happened with the ghosts had convinced him of that. He pulled up his hair to show his ears. “These came from somewhere. I never knew who my father was. There were those like me in the other villages that were burned. They came from somewhere. We came from somewhere, but no one came to help us when Felor came to burn the villages. They created us and left us to our fate. I want to find the fae because I need someone to yell at.”

Garrick looked at him for a long moment then chuckled. He wrapped his arms around Blythe and kissed him. “I see your point.” He reached out to touch an ear. “Both of them. Tomorrow we’ll take up the hunt again. But for now.” He paused and looked around. “It seems Oakes has vanished in search of wood or, umm, something, and we have the day to fill.”

Looking into his eyes, Blythe quickly caught his meaning. He felt his breath catch at the thought of it. “If there’s anyone nearby, they’ll sense I’m here.”

Garrick shrugged. “When they show up, we’ll deal with them.”

Blythe relaxed into Garrick’s warm kiss. He didn’t have to worry. Garrick loved him. Oakes was gone, and this time he was going to do what he wanted. “Stay here a moment.” He rose and left Garrick staring after him as he ran for the packs. He rummaged through them and in a moment was back with a small item.

He watched a smile spread across Garrick’s face. “So that’s what you were looking for.”

He tossed the ointment to Garrick and swung one leg over him to straddle him. “I want you.”

Garrick’s warm hand stroked his thigh, moving along the sensitive inner muscles and making Blythe shiver.

Garrick’s gaze went to his rising cock. “That’s becoming obvious.” He pulled Blythe toward him, taking him into his mouth.

Blythe gave into the feeling of Garrick’s warmth enveloping him. Then he pulled back, dropping on to Garrick’s thighs. “Wait. Not that way. I want to—”

“I know,” Garrick said. “And nothing will please me more. But we need to go slowly so I don’t hurt you.” He opened the jar of ointment and scooped some out. “Now, come here so I can reach you.”

Blythe lifted to his knees and moved forward as Garrick reached for him. He felt Garrick’s calloused fingers moving along his thighs and up to his crack. Then he felt the cold of the ointment as Garrick pushed a single finger into him. Blythe gasped. For a moment, he felt cold and uncomfortable. Garrick paused, then slowly moved his finger around Blythe’s hole.

“When I push inward, try pushing outward,” Garrick said as his finger explored what Blythe had to offer.

“But you’re already—” He felt another finger against his skin.

“Push.”

He did and grunted as a second finger joined the first. He leaned forward, bracing himself against Garrick’s shoulders. Nothing felt comfortable, and he was beginning to wonder why men did this. “I don’t know—”

“Relax, Blythe. We won’t go further if you don’t want to. Just kiss me and let me enjoy you for a time.”

That sounded simple enough. After all, Garrick’s fingers were warmer now and what he was doing wasn’t that uncomfortable. He leaned forward, kissing Garrick, whose tongue teased at his lips. He opened them and let Garrick’s tongue tangle with his, flicking in and out and around his mouth. He almost forgot about Garrick’s fingers exploring his hole as they flexed and widened. Then they moved further into him and rubbed against something. He gasped, trying to kiss even deeper as Garrick’s fingers aroused him. He gave in to the sensation. The joy and warmth it brought him.  Garrick timed his kiss with the movement of his fingers, making Blythe squirm with desire.

Then Garrick pulled his fingers out. Blythe opened his eyes and pulled back from the kiss, feeling surprised and empty. Then he saw the smile on Garrick’s face. Garrick stretched out on the ground, moving his hands to support Blythe’s hips. “We’ll only do what you want, Blythe. That’s important. Are you ready to take me into you?”

Blythe looked down at the naked bronze body heavy with muscle. This wasn’t what he’d expected. He thought Garrick would have him kneel or bend over. He just had to make himself available and Garrick would take control. That’s what Garrick did. Command and control.

But now Garrick was lying naked on the ground and letting him take the next step. Garrick had prepared him, and his cock rose heavy and full, waiting for him. Now he knew how to fill the emptiness that he’d always felt.

He raised himself up and lowered himself. Garrick didn’t just slide into him. His head pressed against Blythe’s hole, bigger than the two fingers had been. Big enough to make Blythe hesitate. Garrick’s hands moved to help guide him. “Take a deep breath, push out and lower yourself.”

“It’ll hurt. I’ll hurt you.” He said, worried about his weight landing on Garrick. “If I fall.”

“You’re not going to hurt me and I’m letting you take control so I don’t hurt you. Things will feel very tight at first but—

“You talk too much,” Blythe said. Hesitating wasn’t going to make this easier . As he pushed down, he gasped. Two fingers hadn’t been enough to prepare him for this. Then Garrick’s head was inside him and the rest of his length slid more easily. Blythe stopped before he’d taken all of him and held still, settling into the feeling. It took a moment for it to become comfortable, but beneath him, Garrick lay waiting. Garrick who had confessed to loving him and who he loved. Garrick who didn’t demand but simply made himself available. Stephan and the war seemed very far away.

Blythe lifted then lowered himself again, letting Garrick’s cock slide within him. The movement sent shivers through him. Not shivers of cold but shivers that set his nerves on fire. He didn’t let the head pull out. It was easier to do it this way and just stroke that inner place that shuddered at Garrick’s touch. But in time, he thought, he’d want to feel the push of Garrick’s fullness entering into him again and again. “This feels good.”

“Yes, it does,” Garrick said.

Blythe laughed. He moved again, nearly bouncing in delight at the feelings that it aroused. He loved Garrick and Garrick loved him. The sun was shining on them and right now this was all he needed for happiness.

Garrick reached up and circled his cock with one hand. “Do you like this?”

“Your hands are calloused,” he said, and noticed a look of worry flit across Garrick’s face. “I like it. I love to feel your roughness when you tug on me.”

“Then I’ll have to keep up with my sword practice.” Garrick grasped Blythe’s cock firmly and circled the head with his thumb. “Fast or slow?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve never done this before.”

Garrick laughed, his face glowing with sound of it. Blythe rose up again and came down, letting his body tell him what it wanted. He rode Garrick’s hips and smiled at the sound of his knight’s groans. He felt like he was expanding, filling the sunlit space and reaching to the fluffy clouds above. His body was on fire, every nerve tingling with the joy of Garrick being inside. He was filled, touched, loved.

The world dissolved as he came, spurting himself on Garrick’s chest. He felt a sudden warmth as Garrick came inside him. He leaned back looking out at the trees. He didn’t know it could be like this. That it would feel so good.

“Well?” Garrick said, gasping to get his breath back.

“That was—” Blythe lowered his gaze then stopped. He stared into the trees.

“Was what?”

“Shhh. Don’t move.” He felt Garrick’s muscles tense as if he were ready to leap to his feet. Blythe held him down with a knee. “No. Stay down. Someone is watching us.” He lifted enough to disentangle himself from his lover, but not enough to startle the watcher.

“Oakes?” Garrick shook his head. “No, that wouldn’t worry you. Someone from a village?”

“Not unless they like to watch while hanging upside down in a tree. And mostly naked. Except for maybe some feathers.” Blythe stared into the trees and at the figure hanging by its knees from a branch that was the height of at least three men above the ground. Then a movement caught his attention and he spotted a figure lower down. This one was right side up and pointing an arrow in their direction.

He sat very still, trying to decide what to do and aware that Garrick was watching him, silently. “Garrick, don’t move. Just stay there.” Lifting his empty hands, Blythe rose slowly to his feet.

“Welcome little cousin.” The voice was light and came from someone Blythe hadn’t spotted yet. A slender figure emerged from the trees. This one also wore nothing more than a few feathers and a garland of leaves. He was male. That much was obvious. Also obvious were the ear-points that stuck out from the side braids of his dark hair. Blythe touched his own ears. The points were much smaller compared to the fae striding toward him. “You command this human?” The figure pointed an undrawn bow toward Garrick.

“He guards me,” Blythe answered, catching the hint of a nod from Garrick. “Traveling here was dangerous.” He wondered if they’d seen Oakes, but perhaps it was best not to mention him.

“He did not guard you from our approach,” the creature said. “Humans are not good guards against us.”

“He guards me from other humans. You are the ones we wanted to find.” He wondered how many of them they’d found. And if they’d survive the experience.

“You would not find us unless we wanted you to.” The fae moved to get a better view of Garrick, and Blythe could see Garrick’s head move slightly as he tried to catch a glimpse of the fae. “We wondered why you traveled with humans, but then you showed us. He makes you feel joy, this human guard of yours. That is good. We show ourselves because our Ri says that you must come to see him.”

“Ri?” The word didn’t mean anything but the tone did. “Your king?” he asked. “He wants to see me and my guard?”

“No guards. No humans. Just you.”

They hadn’t planned on that. Garrick shook his head. “My guard protects me,” Blythe objected.

The fae made a move like a head nod but faster and briefer. “From the humans, yes. But you do not need to be protected from us, little cousin.”

Another one of the creatures had wandered close. A male, slim with fair hair braided to show gracefully pointed ears. The eyebrows slanted upward making his features look even more angular. No, a full fae would never have managed to hide from Felor’s men. Not even with his ears hidden. This fae approached until he stood beside Blythe. He stared down at Garrick. “He’s very big. Can I try him?”

“No,” Blythe sputtered, noticing where the fae was looking. Garrick remained on his back, a blush spreading across his cheeks. “He’s mine. But if you come with me, I will show you his king, his Ri, who is bigger than he is.” Garrick raised an eyebrow at this.

The fae’s eyes widened. “Are all humans big?” He clutched Blythe’s arm. “Bring his Ri here so I can see him.”

“He’ll come,” Blythe said, surprised at the willing eagerness. “But first he must win a war.”

The first fae made a movement, a gesture so fast Blythe couldn’t follow it. The second let go of his arm and stepped back a bit. “Our Ri says to bring you to him,” the first fae said. “You can tell him about this king and this war.”

“No,” Blythe objected, trying to find a way around this. He’d wanted to find the fae, not be kidnapped by them. “I will not leave my guard. We have found you. Now we will go tell the Ri of the humans. When he wins the war, he will return here with us.” That part wouldn’t be difficult to arrange.

The fae made a cutting gesture with his hand and a sharp movement with his head that Blythe decided was a head shake. “I have been told to bring you to our Ri. He will decide.”

“No.”

“Little cousin, do not test my patience.”

Blythe saw Garrick frown and motioned for him not to move. He looked toward the trees again. He could count at least a dozen fae waiting and watching. He and Garrick were unarmed and naked. Oakes was missing and probably being held captive. Perhaps the fae wouldn’t harm him, but they had no reason not to kill Garrick or Oakes. “My guards are not to be harmed.” He made it a statement not a question.

“We will not harm them if they stay out of the forest.”

Blythe considered their chances. The fae didn’t seem to have any reason to harm him. After all, they could have remained hidden if they’d wished. He’d tempted them into revealing themselves. Oakes had suggested that he could do it, and he had. Now he had to make sure that they were all safe. “I’ll return as soon as I can,” he told Garrick, who shook his head in objection. “Don’t come after me. I’ll be safe. If I don’t go, they’ll force me and probably try to kill you. I have to do this.” Garrick’s eyes pleaded with him, but he didn’t object further. He recognized the danger of their situation.

Blythe stepped away from Garrick. “I need to wash and dress.”

The fae made a gesture that looked like a shrug. “The stream is there to wash in, but you will not need human clothing.”

One problem at a time, Blythe told himself. He hadn’t gotten any of them killed yet. He stepped into the stream and used the cold water to wash himself while he considered his next move. He wasn’t ready to walk unarmed and naked to wherever the fae wanted to take him. What good would his sword do him ? There were too many for him to fight. But having a sword meant something. It would show that he was not a prisoner. That was important. And it would remind him of Garrick. If they would let him take it.

He stepped out of the stream and, pretending not to be worried about the watching fae, strode to where Oakes had laid out the weapons. Without looking at the fae who was following him, he reached down and picked up the sword and sheath Garrick had given him. He waited for an order to put the sword down. It didn’t come. He wrapped the thick belt around his naked waist and checked to make sure the sword was securely sheathed. Then he turned to his escort. “I will go with you to meet your Ri. My guards will remain here, but they must not be harmed.”

The fae gave another of his fast nod movements and gestured toward the forest. Blythe walked across the clearing and into the trees. He heard the rustle of leaves as some of the fae dropped from trees to follow behind him. He was alone again with no one to rely on but himself. He’d become used to having Garrick’s protection, but now Garrick’s life could depend on him.

*

Garrick stood staring at the forest. He’d confessed his love and found it returned. He’d experienced a single afternoon of bliss. Then he’d lost Blythe. He wasn’t sure he’d ever believed they’d find the fae. Now he wished they hadn’t.

“So, you sheathed your dagger in him then, lad?” Oakes voice was soft as he strode toward him.

Garrick took a deep breath and let it out. “He impaled himself willingly.”

“Probably for the best. If they thought you were hurting him, they might have reacted differently.”

“You saw?” He heard an embarrassing crack in his voice.

Oakes chuckled. “Not your love making, lad, but the results. You found Stephan his fae. A couple of them kept me at the edge of the trees with their arrows pointed my way.”

“They took Blythe,” Garrick exploded. “It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“They won’t harm the lad.” Oakes picked up something from the pile of clothing and tossed Garrick an undertunic. “Put some clothes on. I’ll cook us some dinner, and we’ll wait.”

He struggled to bring his mind back to something other than Blythe being gone. Oakes sounded calm and unconcerned so the man must believe that Blythe would return. He grabbed at that thought because it was better than his own. “I’ll need to fish.”

“Nah, there’s a haunch of venison sitting by the fire. Apparently we’re expected to wait here for now.”

He looked over to where they’d built the fire. The offering had been carefully placed on a bed of wide leaves. “So they plan to bring Blythe back.” They wouldn’t keep him. They couldn’t keep him .

Oakes shrugged. “Keeping Blythe where he doesn’t want to be is probably more trouble than they want. He’ll find his way back.”

“You seem sure of that.”

“A lad that can escape from Felor’s dungeons isn’t to be underestimated. You should know that.” Oakes looked into the forest a moment longer. “When we’re done with this war of Stephan’s, do yourself a favor. Take the lad and go as far away from Stephan as you can get.”

Garrick turned to him in surprise. “You think he’ll try to take Blythe from me? We found him fae.” Though to be honest, he wasn’t sure the fae were eager to leave their trees for any human king.

“It’s not the lad he’ll keep,” Oakes said. “It’s you. Stephan isn’t one for settling down at his castle with his lady and his sons. He’ll keep you by his side while he looks for more excuses to go adventuring. Let someone else go with him. Stephan owes you land. Take it. Then take Blythe and leave Stephan to his wanderings.”

Garrick stared at the trees. “First, I have to get Blythe back.”

Chapter 21

Blythe followed his guide along what seemed to be a narrow path, though he suspected the fae were simply making an effort to find the easiest places for him to walk through the thickening forest. Branches pressed close on both sides and tree limbs reached down as if to grab him. He hadn’t spent much time in the forest after childhood, but he remembered that there were those afraid of the darkness it held. Certainly Felor’s men avoided it. Did it feel so alive now because he was with the fae?

Once they’d left Garrick behind, the others had drawn closer to him. He could feel them stroking his hair and touching his back. The one who had asked to try Garrick strode beside him. He seemed to be younger and less serious than some of the others. His gaze went to Blythe’s crotch. “You are part human but not as large as your human. Are all humans so big?”

“Some of them.” Blythe tried to ignore the other’s gaze on his cock. “If you come with us, you can see for yourself.”

“Or you could bring them to us,” the fae said. “You have one with only one with one arm—”

“He prefers women,” Blythe said. At least he thought Oakes did. The man had never even given him an interested look. It had been a relief to know there was someone he didn’t tempt.

“Oh. Maybe one of them will try him.”

Blythe nodded then realized what the fae meant. He tried to imagine Oakes with a fae woman. It was a confusing image, and he decided it was best not to think of Oakes that way. Something fell over his neck. He grabbed at it and discovered it was a long garland of leaves. Well, at least he wouldn’t be completely naked. He looked at the young fae beside him. He wore the garland draped over one side of his chest and dangling to his hip. Blythe decided he could do a little better with his. He adjusted it so that fell down over his chest and covered his cock, sort of. It moved with every stepped which only seemed to want to draw someone’s eye to it. He shifted the leaves to the side and decided that would have to do.

“You need feathers in your hair,” a voice said behind him. He felt fingers tugging at his hair. “Your ears aren’t very pointed, but you don’t need to hide them.”

“It’s safer to hide them around humans.” He resisted the urge to slap the hands away from his ears and the fingers that pulled and twisted his hair.

“Stay with us. It’s safe deep in the forest, and we will braid your hair every morning.”

“I think he likes his human,” the young fae said. “Was it fun to sit on him?”

“Yes,” he snapped. “And he is my human.” This fae was too eager to try Garrick . “Come with us and you can sit on the Ri of the humans.” It was a safe offer. King Stephan would be glad to go along with it. Though how they were going to get any of the fae across the countryside to Stephan was something they hadn’t figured out.

“Our Ri will say who goes where,” the fae leading the group said. “Pieder knows this.”

“He is old and cautious,” the young fae Blythe now knew was Pieder said, motioning at the leader. “Too old to appreciate the Ri of the humans.”

The lead fae chuckled. “I have appreciated many a human, young Pieder. But that was many summers ago. Since then we have been safe because of the caution of our Ri. You would do well to remember that.”

They walked in silence and Blythe wondered if Pieder were pouting about being scolded. A glance to the side told him he didn’t have to worry about that. Pieder was studying his sword. At least he hoped it was his sword. He tugged the leaves back over his crotch.

“It is time for our little cousin to greet our Ri and his Banrion,” the lead fae said as he pushed through a final curtain of brush and led them into a clearing.

On one side of the clearing leaves and vines had been woven into a pair of seats that swung from the branches of the trees. Each seat held a fae, one female and the other male. They had feathers and leaves woven into their hair to form crowns. Blythe wasn’t sure if he should bow. He decided not to. This king, this Ri, had never sent anyone to protect those like him . He remained standing.

“Hello, little cousin. We welcome you to our forest.” The queen spoke, her voice soft and almost a purr.

Her address surprised Blythe. He’d expected to be spoken to by the king, but he turned to her. “Why have you brought me here and made me leave my companions behind?” he demanded.

The king leaned forward, studying him. “Is this not what you wanted? To be rescued from the humans?” His voice was deep and commanding.

It had been what he’d wanted when Kai beat him for being different. When he struggled to hide among Felor’s men. When he sat in the prison cell waiting to be burned. All those times he wanted to be rescued. And all those times, he’d been left to fend for himself. Now, when Garrick confessed to loving him, this Ri sent his troops to drag him away.

“I didn’t need you to rescue me,” he spat, his anger coming through. “For the first time in my life, I’m safe and now you send your men to bring me to you? Where were you when I was a child and they came to burn me? You didn’t come to help us. You created us and left us to make our way with the humans. Where were you when I needed you?” He let his angry words settle on the soft forest floor.

The Ri sat back and studied him in silence. Blythe glared at him, waiting for an answer.  He was used to waiting and to remaining silent. They were traits that meant survival. Finally the queen spoke in her soft purr as if she’d give Blythe’s outburst great thought. “But you made it here when others did not. Yes, we have taken you away from your companions, but we dare not let humans find these places where we remain safe.”

The Ri nodded. “You stand here before us because you did not need our help, little cousin. We welcome you with joy, but know you are a potential danger to us.”

“A danger?” Blythe countered. “How am I a danger? How are those of us who needed help a danger? You made me. Or your kind did. You left your forest long enough to do that. Why do that if you’re only going to leave us to die?” The yelling was making him feel better though he wasn’t sure how the Ri would take it.

The queen smiled, leaning back in her seat of vines and watching him over fingers she held pressed together in front of her. “And you were expecting a frightened human child, my love. This angry little cousin may have the strength to do what must be done.”

The Ri nodded to her. “You are wise, but I don’t think he approves of us, my love.” He looked back to Blythe. “We did not want you to die,” he said with sadness in his voice. “We have few children. It has always been so. But now humans have slaughtered so many of us that we are in danger of vanishing from this world entirely.”

Blythe took in a breath, ready to argue that rescuing those like him would have helped, but the queen raised her hand before he could speak.

“If we vanish, who will honor our spirits when they move to the world of the ancestors? Would you have us vanish in both worlds?”

Spirits? They kidnapped him because they were worried about spirits? “But the dead are dead,” he said. “They can’t die again.” He shivered involuntarily as he remembered the ghosts of the fire. Maybe the dead weren’t as dead as he’d been taught.

The queen raised her arms. “This world you stand in is our world. It is the forest that grows above the underworld. For the length of our life, we live among the branches of the forest. When we die, our spirits move to the underworld, which is a world of roots that reach deep into the earth. It is a sacred place. There we may sleep a long sleep, waking at times to offer advice to those in the living forest. But the humans would slay us and destroy the forest. If that happens, we will lose our connection to the living world and never wake from sacred sleep. Each child like you holds a part of us. Together you are a living forest. You are needed.”

“Needed because we can serve you? We are killed by the humans. You create us knowing we’ll be killed.” Now, he sputtered with anger. How dare they treat him and those like him as tools for their own survival . Not that humans had treated him better. With them he was an abomination or a curiosity. Except to Garrick, who loved him. And perhaps to Oakes, who didn’t seem surprised by his differentness.

The Ri lifted his head. “What would you have us do instead, little cousin? It is the humans who have forced us to grasp for any hope of survival. We have so few young left. We hide them deep in the forest where humans cannot find them.” He shook his head, a slow sad movement, not the speedy one of dismissal. “Pieder is one of those who recently joined us from the hidden place. He is young enough not to remember fleeing our lands and the death humans brought. He doesn’t fear humans as the rest of us do. Not yet. But that time will come.”

Blythe studied Pieder and suddenly saw himself as he’d be if he’d been raised by the fae instead of humans. He imagined himself smiling happily and asking to try everyone. He’d certainly want to try Garrick. Except Garrick wouldn’t have come looking for him. And even if Garrick had found him among the fae, well, there was something about Pieder that would appeal to Stephan but perhaps not to Garrick. Pieder didn’t need Garrick, and Garrick wanted to be needed. And loved. He turned back to the Ri. “Come with me, and I’ll show you that you have nothing to fear from the humans I know. Not from the human king that I fight for. He is a king who desires to know the fae.”

“He does not know me.” The Ri waved around the clearing. “He does not know any of us. How is he different from the king who tries to kill us?”

Blythe grasped the first thing he could think of to explain the difference. “He has a tapestry in his tent. It shows the fae engaged in love making. He takes that tapestry with him everywhere. Go to him and he will give you—” He paused. Land was the wrong thing to say here. That would imply that the fae king needed Stephan to grant him the right to the land the king already saw as his own. “—himself.”

“Himself?” The Ri smiled. “You claim this human king will kneel before me?”

Well, yes , Blythe thought, there was one way Stephan would kneel. Though he wasn’t sure how the Ri and his queen would take it. “If you want, he will kneel before you. He knelt before me and asked to take me into his mouth and taste me. I am only part of what you are. He will taste you and let you taste him.”

The queen laughed, and the Ri smiled. “And how does he taste? Tell me about this remarkable king.”

He hadn’t tasted Stephan, only Garrick. But the Ri wouldn’t know that. “He is big and thick and tastes like salt and wood smoke. His tongue teased at my mouth and along my cock. He made me shiver with desire.”

The Ri looked interested. Pieder was staring at him with an expression Blythe thought might be envy. Then the Ri spoke. “But you choose to be with another human instead of this king.”

Blythe considered his answer. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to suggest Garrick was a better lover than Stephan. “Garrick is my knight. Stephan is a king. You are a king. You should have the king. I will stay with my knight.”

“Well spoken, little cousin.” The Ri leaned close. “It has been a long time since I have been with a human. I will return you to your knight, and you may bring this king to meet me.”

Yes, Stephan would be interested, Blythe thought, but he couldn’t let him turn away from the war with Felor. “He can’t come until he has won the war against the king who kills the fae. You can help him win that war.”

The Ri motioned around the clearing. “These are my people, little cousin. Tell me, how are we to fight the humans?”

Blythe looked at the assembled group. There weren’t many when he measured them against the size of Felor’s army. And while they’d looked threatening enough pointing arrows at him and Garrick, they had little else in the way of weapons except for the stone blades some wore strapped to their waists. Still, he wasn’t ready to give in. “You have arrows and bows.”

“Bows for hunting meat. Or for killing those enemies who try to enter the forest. We are hard to kill when we can hide in our forest, but the humans have horses. They can chase and kill us in the open fields. And we forge no iron. We have no swords to equal those the soldiers use against us.”

Blythe pulled his short sword from its scabbard and tossed it to the ground in front of the fae king. “Here’s a sword. The human king will give you more. Will you join the humans who fight for you? For me?”

The Ri rose from his seat and picked up the sword. He didn’t seem angry as he held it in his hand and weighed it. “A good weapon but a single weapon.” Blythe was about to challenge him again, but the Ri held up his hand.

The queen spoke. “Sometimes a single weapon is all that is needed if it is held by the right hand. Tell me, what are you to this king?”

Blythe squared his shoulders. “I am a squire to his best knight.”

“I honor your joy with him, but it is not right for you to serve a human,” The queen said.

“He is my knight,” Blythe said stubbornly. “He saved my life. You have no right to kidnap me and tell me who I may serve.”

He could hear a murmur of objections from the watching fae, but the queen surveyed him with unchanging calmness. “Yes, I think you will do. I think you will do very well. My love, we have found our champion.”

The Ri took a step closer and raised the sword. Blythe didn’t flinch. Too many people had tried to kill him. Frankly, he was getting a bit tired of it. The Ri waved the sword over Blythe’s head. “I make you my knight. The highest that I have.”

He blinked in surprise. Well, becoming an unexpected knight was better than being beheaded. “The only one?” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“No,” the Ri answered. “There are others who would be considered knights by human reckoning. You were led here by one. They guard the forests and hold what we have left against the humans or else we would not be here for you to find. You are the knight I will send into the world. I charge you to raise your army and take it to fight the humans who tried to kill you.”

Blythe let out a breath. At least this meant they’d let him return to Garrick. He could figure out the rest once he was clear of this forest. He waved his arm to indicate those standing around the clearing. “Will they join me? Because I have no army.”

The Ri handed him the sword. “I think you do. The question is do you have the courage it will take to raise them? She who sits beside me believes you do, and she sees many things that I cannot.”

“What does she see?” Blythe asked. “What does she believe I must do?”

The queen spoke. “Can you hold the balance between the worlds and raise those who are trapped between this world and the next without joining them? I felt you try once.”

Blythe stared at her. When had he tried ? He’d seen no one since the village that had attacked them, and the Queen couldn’t mean those villagers. Then he realized. “But, they’re...dead.”

“They died by violence,” the Queen said. “They did not follow the human way or the fae path to the next world. They are lost and they need strength to pull them from the shadow path they wander. They will take their vengeance and perhaps then find their rest.”

His thoughts whirled. Ghosts . They’d called to him already. If he went back, would they still be there? “How do I command them? They’re ghosts.”

The Ri took his seat again. “That, you must discover for yourself. We have given you the help that we can.”

Help? Blythe wanted to yell. All they’d done was drag him into the forest and confront him with riddles. He was done with riddles. But, he realized, so was this Ri and his queen. He’d been dismissed, and the fae were gathering around him again, this time to escort him back to Garrick, which was where he wanted to go. He sheathed his sword and followed his guide back down the forest path.

*

The late afternoon sun sat low over the tree line by the time he stepped out of the forest and into the clearing where he’d left Garrick. He could see the blaze of the fire and smell roasting venison. His stomach growled, and he hurried over the grass toward the camp.

The two men saw him. Garrick rose, sword drawn and pointed in his direction. “Where is he?” His angry shout filled the clearing.

Blythe stopped, staring at the furious man pointing a sword at him. He’d expected Garrick to welcome him, to offer a hug and even kisses. He didn’t expect to be yelled at. “Where is who?” he demanded. “Who are you looking for besides me?”

Garrick dropped the point of the sword to the grass. “Blythe?” Surprise rang in his voice.

Blythe nodded. Garrick stood staring at him, mouth still open in shock. Then Blythe remembered he was dressed only in leaves with feathers braided into his hair. Garrick wasn’t looking for someone else. He’d been ready to charge the fae, sword in hand, to demand his return. Laughing, he ran forward. “You didn’t recognize me.”

“Not dressed like that.” Garrick looked him up and down, a wide smile replacing his frown. “Not that I have any objection to it.”

“I see you braided your hair, lad.” Oakes tone suggested he meant something else and his gaze wasn’t dropping below Blythe’s shoulders.

Blythe looked down. The garland of leaves wasn’t covering anything and his happiness at seeing Garrick again was showing. “I should get dressed.”

“Tomorrow morning is soon enough.” Garrick caught him in an embrace and whirled him around. “How are you, my fae lad?”

Blythe kissed him and held him until his stomach growled.

“He’s hungry,” Oakes said. “And apparently happy to see you. I can do something about the hungry part.” Oakes turned and headed back toward the fire. “Lads. Always hungry. Always popping up about the place.”

Blythe laughed. Then he pulled back a bit from Garrick. He wanted to spend the night with him doing nothing more than reliving that afternoon on the riverbank, but he needed to act on the Ri’s challenge before he lost his nerve. “I need to go back to the burned village. Now. We can make it there tonight, can’t we?”

He could feel Garrick’s muscles tense and knew he was in for an argument. “Last time you nearly froze, and we don’t know why.”

Blythe thought he knew why, but now wasn’t the time to explain it to Garrick. “But you were there to make sure I was all right,” he answered. Garrick’s muscles didn’t loosen. The wary look on Garrick’s face told him that it probably wasn’t a good idea to tell him that he planned to call up an army of ghosts. “I have to go back. I need to go now before I lose my nerve. Don’t make me go alone.”

That made Garrick take a step back. His expression changed from wariness to concern then he pulled him close again. “No, don’t leave me to chase after you.” Blythe listened to the sound of Garrick’s breath, wondering how to tell Garrick that he never planned to leave him again, but Garrick pushed him back to arm’s length. “If I don’t take you, I suppose the fae will.”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “It’s where they want me to go. Where they need me to go. But if they take me, they won’t protect me. They’ve never been there to protect me.” Garrick pulled him close again and held him. Blythe tried to think of something else to say, but before he could, his stomach growled.

Garrick’s breath stopped for a moment, then he laughed, leaning into Blythe and holding him as the tension left his body with the laughter. “Apparently they didn’t think to feed you either. We aren’t doing anything until you’ve eaten.”

Garrick was giving in. Blythe wanted to object even to that delay and insist they leave immediately, but Garrick was right. He was hungry, and if he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t have the energy to handle calling the ghosts. His stomach growled again, and he realized how hungry he was. If they were going to ride, he needed to eat. And he was with Garrick. “Maybe there’s time to—”

“Not until I’ve gotten you away from here. I remember what happened last time. I’m not summoning up any more visitors who want to try me on for size.”

Blythe wanted to object until he remembered that Pieder had been part of the group that had led him back to Garrick. Pieder was probably still watching from the trees. “When we’re away from here,” he whispered into Garrick’s ears then he added, “I smell venison. How did you get a deer?”

“It was delivered,” Garrick said. “A sign that our fae friends didn’t want us to starve while waiting for you.” He gave Blythe another long look. “Are you chilly dressed like that?”

“Not if you hold me.”

“One of these days I’ll get you alone. Really alone,” Garrick said as he led him back to the fire. “And I’ll let you discover how warm I can make things.”

They reached the camp where Oakes was dividing up the venison. “If we’re riding, the lad will need some clothes. Eat while I see to the packing.”

“I’ll help,” Blythe offered.

Garrick pulled him down to the grass. “No. I want you to tell me what happened. And you need to eat.”

Blythe leaned back against Garrick who responded by wrapping him in an embrace.  He liked that. Garrick just wrapping his arms around him because they belonged together. “I met the king of the fae and his queen,” he said, then took a bite of the venison.

“I gathered that was what our visitors had in mind,” Garrick said.

Blythe swallowed. “They won’t come with us to find Stephan. They don’t trust humans.” He took another bite.

“But?” Garrick’s tone was patient. He wanted answers, but he was willing to wait while Blythe ate.

“They’ll talk to King Stephan if we bring him here after he defeats Felor,” Blythe said. “Do you think that’s enough?”

“Enough? Enough?” Garrick’s response started as a chuckle and then grew into a full-throated laugh that had him bending over Blythe’s shoulder. “Love, you found the fae king. You found a whole forest filled with fae. The problem is going to be making sure Stephan takes the time to defeat Felor before riding off to meet them himself.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Blythe said. “Felor must be brought down. Stephan is our best chance. We can’t let him get distracted.”

Garrick ran a finger over one of his ears. Ears that he’d once had to keep hidden. “We’ll make sure Stephan defeats Felor first. Will you tell me why you want to ride back to the burned village?”

Blythe took another bite of venison. Chewing meant he had time to think before he answered. Garrick wasn’t going to like the answer after what happened with the ghosts the first time. His army . Last time his army had nearly frozen him to death, what would make this time different? “I need to go back to where they burned everyone. I need to call them, and I need you with me so I don’t freeze to death. I want you with me because I’m scared.”

“Call them? What them? Do you mean the dead?” Garrick stopped as if he knew he’d found the answer to his own question. “Will you tell me why you need to call them?”

He stared into the fire as if he could hold its warmth inside himself. “I’m their knight, and they’re my army.”

“You don’t sound very certain about that, lad,” Oakes said, tossing his clothes on to the grass near him.

“I don’t know how to be a knight or to command an army, but the fae king said it wasn’t proper for me to serve a human as a squire, so he made me his knight.”

He felt Garrick draw himself up and take a breath. “So, he objects to you being my squire.” Garrick’s muscles tightened and his voice dropped to a low, dangerous growl. “Does he also object to me being your lover?”

Blythe smiled a little. “No. All the fae seemed very pleased with how happy you made me. Including one who seemed disappointed that I won’t share you.”

Garrick let the breath out. “Good, because that I plan to keep making you happy. As for being my squire, well, often a good squire becomes a knight. Usually after more training than you have, but I can’t say the fae king has rushed things any more than Stephan does when he’s in the mood.”

King Stephan. That was another thing he needed to tell Garrick. “The king … I promised that Stephan would do to him what he did to me.” This time the heat he felt was a blush rising. “You know. That night we went to him.”

He could feel Garrick’s shrug as his chest muscles moved up and down. “That promise will be easy enough to deliver on.”

“I wanted the fae to come with us. Instead they told me to raise an army.”

Garrick wrapped his arms around him. “That part I’m not happy about, but I’m not going to let you face whatever awaits you alone. At least this time we have some idea of what to expect.”

Chapter 22

Night had fallen and the moon was rising by the time they reached the outskirts of the burned village. Blythe turned Risk toward the village itself, but Garrick held up his hand. “Wait. First we’re going to build the fire because whatever happens, you need somewhere to warm yourself afterwards.”

Blythe nodded. Now that he was here, he was glad to have a reason to delay what waited for him. He slid from Risk’s back. “I’ll help.”

“Of course you’ll help,” Oakes said. “There’s work to be done and new-made knights don’t get out of work. First we need to unload the wood from the horses. They don’t mind carrying a little extra weight but I feel like I’ve been riding on sticks.”

The wood had been Oakes’ idea. Since the forest had offered more than they could expect to find at the village, he’d suggested carrying some with them. By the time the three of them had gathered an armful from the edges of the forest, a mound had appeared not far from their fire. It seemed that as long as he followed the fae king’s orders, the rest of the fae were inclined to be helpful. Piling the wood onto the horses had taken some creativity and the result had meant riding while trying to keep a pile of sticks steady.

Garrick handed Blythe a packet of venison wrapped in leaves. “I want to make sure you have something to eat as soon as you’ve done what you need to do.”

Called the ghosts, Blythe thought. They were all avoiding saying it. And avoiding admitting he had no idea how to do that. He took the meat. “We can keep it warm by the fire.”

“Then we’ll want a few heavy rocks to make a cache to protect it from animals,” Oakes said.

Blythe sat the packet down. “I’ll find some.” He didn’t have to move far from the others as he searched. The field they were in had been used for grazing animals rather than plowed for crops and it hadn’t been cleared of stones. He suddenly found himself remembering clearing rocks from a field in his own village. Everyone had helped, and they’d made it a game for the younger children, like him. This village had been like his. The children like those he played with. The men like those he’d known when he was young. Good men who worked hard to support families. They shouldn’t have been wiped out like this.

He’d collected enough stones to build a mound beside the fire Oakes had burning. They hid the meat and Oakes banked the fire. The heat and the rocks would keep animals away while he did what he needed to do. That moment was looming closer.

“Tell me, lad,” Oakes’ deep grumble broke through Blythe’s thoughts. “What is it you do that makes horses like you?”

Surprised at the question, he turned away from the ruined village to look at the man. Was Oakes worried about the horses ? He looked to Risk, but his horse was grazing sleepily not far from the men. Oakes was still watching him, waiting for an answer. “It’s just a matter of making them think you’re one of them. Smell like them, let them know you’re friendly, think like them.”

“And why didn’t you put clothes on when you left with the fae?”

He shrugged. “They wanted me to be like them, and I thought they might listen to me better if I was.”

Oakes nodded toward the burned village. “Don’t see how ghosts would be much different.”

“Well, they’re dead,” he began, his gaze returning to the village.

“If you’re supposed to lead them, you might want to get past that little detail.”

Blythe nodded blankly as he stared at the village. He could hear them now. They were calling to him. Be like them . These ghosts weren’t just dead. They were dead because they’d been burned. Stripped of all their humanity and burned until they were nothing more than ash. He stripped off tunic and began to take off his boots.

“Blythe, what are you doing?” Garrick’s voice interrupted him.

He pulled off his boots and then his trousers. “I’m going to be like one of them.”

“You’ll freeze.”

“Then keep me warm.”

He was surprised to feel arms go around him as Garrick pulled him close. “If that’s what you need me to do then that’s what I’ll do.”

He turned and gave himself to Garrick’s embrace. He found Garrick’s lips and kissed him, opening his mouth so he could take in Garrick’s warmth. He felt the energy surge that happened when they were together, and this time tried to pull it into himself. He took Garrick’s warmth and strength and then turned back to face the ruins waiting across the field. “This part I think I have to do by myself.”

He could hear Garrick and Oakes following a few steps behind him as he crossed the field. The ruins appeared before him, the ash of the old fire looking cold and white in under the bare light of the moon.

He slowly circled the space where the fire had been. Be like them . He bent down and scooped up a handful of ash and let it trickle over his chest and down his naked hips. He let the next handful fall across his back. He bent down again and scooped ash in both hands and slowly trickled it over himself as he walked the space of the fire, circling inward toward the center.

More ash. He kept his walk slow and solemn as he let the ash transform him into one of the dead. One of the burned. When he reached the center of the pit, he stopped circling and stood, head bowed, as if he were giving himself to the fire that he’d escaped so many years ago. He heard the rustle of soft voices. “I hear you and call you to me.”

The murmur like wind in the treetops filled the space he stood in. He wasn’t sure the dead wanted to be called. “Yes, I lived when you died. I walk the earth while you wander as shadows. I know your anger at those who seek to destroy us. Do your children still hide among humans? Do you want them to be safe? Follow me and defeat Felor.”

The murmur grew louder and a shape formed beside Blythe. The shadowy figure faced him and pulled pale braids back to reveal sharply pointed ears. Not full fae, but a man who showed that fae blood flowed strongly through human stock. “I owe humans no allegiance. Do you fight as one of the fae?” the figure asked.

Blythe touched his own braids and pointed ears. “I fight as a knight of the Ri of the Fae. Will you follow me?”

The murmur became a wind that tossed his hair back and stirred small whirlwinds in the ashes. “We who are able will follow.”

*

Garrick squinted and peered closer as a figure seemed to rise from the ash to stand beside Blythe. It was pale against the darkness of the night, and Garrick recognized the shape of a man. One of the half fae?

Blythe spoke and a wind whipped up carrying away his words. Then there was another shadow in the ashes and another. Each figure rose from the ash moved outward, and as it did, a new figure arose to join it. Garrick spotted female shapes among the men. And even children, though the smallest of those seemed to cling to Blythe rather than join the circle.

When the circle reached the outer edge of the fire ash, Garrick heard the wind rush through the surrounding trees. Rushing inward, it swirled around Blythe, picking up the ash and tossing it in the air. As the ash rose, more figures appeared. They stretched from the fire pit out to the village streets.

Awed, Garrick moved closer. He could see the shapes more clearly now. A tall farmer with braided hair and pointed ears. A young lass, about Blythe’s age, with those same gently pointed ears. A burly blacksmith who bore no obvious signs of fae ancestry but who stood tall among the ghosts. Blythe had summoned them. Not humans. Not fae. Those who were like him.

“Looks like the lad’s raised his army,” Oakes said.

“A midsummer army,” Garrick said. He wondered if they could use weapons. Then he wondered if it mattered. What army would want to stand before them?

Blythe raised an arm and pointed out to the empty field. The ghostly shapes moved, flowing along the streets and out into the empty field. There they settled into groups, much like any army would settle at the end of a long journey. They didn’t need tents or fire or even food. But a soft whisper of conversation floated back to where Garrick stood.

His gaze was drawn back to the fire pit by a sudden movement as Blythe slumped and fell to his knees. He was at his side in an instant, lifting him and supporting him. Blythe shivered in his embrace, but he was conscious this time.

“Cold. Don’t know what to do now,” Blythe muttered.

“Now we get some food into you and warm you up,” Garrick said, cradling him in his arms. As he lifted Blythe, ash smudged his arms and tunic. “Will they stay if we wash this off you?”

“I think so. It helped me connect, but I can feel them stronger now.”

“I’ll collect a bag of the stuff,” Oakes said, catching up with him. “We’ll take it with us.”

“You aren’t afraid of the ghosts?” Garrick asked. Not that it would do much good to be frightened now that the shades surrounded them.

“Not me, lad. Not me.” Oakes moved toward the ashes of the fire pit, and Garrick saw a figure that had been hovering in the shadows move forward. A female shape, barely more than a girl. Oakes stretched out his hand and waited. “There was a lass,” Garrick whispered as he turned back toward the horses. “That was a very long time ago, indeed.”

“I think he’s one of us,” Blythe muttered.

Garrick realized what he meant and nearly dropped him. “Oakes? Fae?”

“Yeah. He doesn’t have the ears. He’s probably mostly human. But only mostly.” Blythe’s voice faded as a shiver ran through him.

Carrying Blythe, Garrick strode quickly over the ground towards their camp. He wanted to wrap Blythe in blankets and sit him in front of the fire. If he had to, he’d saddle Djinn and ride as far from the ghosts as needed. Could they ride from the ghosts now that Blythe had summoned them? Ahead in the night, the fire blazed up. Garrick hesitated. “It shouldn’t do that. We left it banked.”

“I think we have help,” Blythe said. “No one is going to attack us. Not here. Not now.”

Garrick continued toward the fire, his eyes seeking the darkness. He could smell roasting venison now. Then he saw their blankets spread on the ground near the blaze.

“Last time you both had no clothes and you held him to keep him warm,” a voice said. “I think he likes that. I would like it.”

“Pieder,” Blythe muttered.

The fae stepped into the light of the fire. “I am going with you. You are a knight so you need a squire. I will be your squire and will see the Ri of the humans. You said I could try him.”

“Try?” Garrick echoed, staring at the slender figure clothed in nothing but a handful of leaves and feathers. If that meant what he thought it meant, Stephan would certainly be willing.

“I found Stephan a fae,” Blythe said.

“We’ll worry about it after we get you warmed up.” Garrick let Blythe down on top of the blankets. He needed to worry about Blythe before he worried about anything else. “Do I need to strip?”

“I think so. I think it helps.”

He did, slightly less eagerly than he would have if Pieder hadn’t been there. The fae seemed delighted to watch the process, and Garrick realized he’d been the eager one staring down at him and asking to try him when they’d been discovered by the river. A cough from Blythe soon had him naked and wrapping them both in blankets. “He’ll need water,” he said to Pieder. “Clean water for drinking. Can you find some? There’s a well in the ruined village.”

Pieder pointed to an irregular shape near the fire. “I brought mead. That will be better than water. But if you want water, you will have a lot very soon.”

“What’s that mean?” Oakes asked, emerging into the light of the fire.

Pieder pointed upward. “Rain is coming. When you get him warm and everyone eats, we can go hide in the forest before the rain comes.”

Oakes looked upward at the cloudless sky. “I don’t think we need to worry about rain tonight.”

“Pieder, we’re not going to hide in the forest,” Blythe said. “Do you know how to get water from a well?”

Pieder shrugged. He moved the jug of mead and the venison so that Garrick could reach them. “You don’t want the mead?”

Garrick picked up the jug. It wasn’t a bad offer. “This will be good for Blythe, but horses don’t drink mead.”

“Oh.” Pieder looked at the horses. “I don’t know about wells.”

“Come with me, lad, and I’ll show you.” Oakes said from the darkness. “We’ll give the lads some privacy.”

“Privacy?” Pieder sounded confused. “But the ghosts—”

“Come lad,” Oakes ordered and headed back across the field with Pieder following in his wake.

Garrick held Blythe close. Pieder was right. There was little privacy to be found in this field with an army of ghosts assembling nearby. But for now the ghosts seemed to be keeping their distance. At least the vague shadows were farther away than his men often were in camp. Of course, he usually had a tent. “What do you need from me?” he asked Blythe.

“The mead might be a good idea.”

Garrick uncapped it and helped Blythe sit up. “Your fae squire didn’t bring cups.” He lifted the jug to Blythe’s lips then took a sip of the stuff himself. It wasn’t bad. He pulled off some of the venison. “Open wide.” Blythe did and he fed him the venison. Then another sip of the mead.

“You’re still shivering.”

“I need you,” Blythe said, pressing against him.

“I can tell.” Garrick took another swig of the mead before leaning in to kiss Blythe. He could feel his warmth moving into Blythe. He needed more than the warmth of a fire, he needed physical touch. He needed love.

He moved down, and Blythe shifted under him. His body tasted of ash but tonight wasn’t a night for lingering kisses and teasing bites. Garrick took another mouthful of mead and swallowed it before taking Blythe’s cock into his mouth. Blythe shuddered under him. Garrick sucked on him, giving the act all the attention it needed. He listened to Blythe’s sighs and moans and let them guide his speed. The night was cool but the air around them seemed to grow warmer until Blythe came in a series of shudders. Garrick swallowed the salty taste of him and then another swallow of mead. He sat for a moment to gaze at the slender body that seemed to glow with moonlight.

A half-fae knight who commanded an army of ghosts. To think that between him and Stephan, he’d always thought of himself as the sensible one. He’d been wrong though. He’d been the one who refused to take a lover or even a squire because that would give Stephan an excuse to stop feeling guilty.

Blythe could raise ghosts, and Garrick realized he’d been on his way to becoming one. A ghost to his own love. He took a final drink of mead and stretched out on the ground. By the time Oakes and Pieder returned, Blythe was sleeping in his arms. He let Oakes take care of the horses. They didn’t need a guard. They were already being guarded.

Chapter 23

Wind and rain hit before dawn, rousing them and sending them scurrying to pack their belongings. Garrick looked at the sky. Heavy clouds hid any sight of the moon or stars. He should have listened to Pieder. “It doesn’t look like this will blow over quickly.”

“Oh, it will blow,” Pieder said. “It will blow into a big storm. Do you want to go to the forest now?”

“No, Pieder,” Blythe said, his voice firmer than Garrick had ever heard. “We need the sort of shelter humans use. You are my squire; do you know any human buildings nearby?”

Pieder tilted his head, thinking. “There is the big place the humans used to stay in, but it is empty now.”

“Does it have a roof?” Garrick asked. He wanted to get them all inside. Including the horses, if there was space. If not, they’d have to make the best of the shelter.

Pieder pursed his lips then shrugged. “I will show you the place, and you can show me what a roof is. Then I will know if it has one.”

“The fae lad has a point,” Oakes said. “We don’t have much choice in the matter. You say the place is empty, lad?”

“There are no humans on this side of the river. Not anymore. The human place is very big and made of stone. I wanted to look inside when the humans left, but our Ri said no. Now I can see inside. I will show you the way. Will we ride the horses? I will have to share because you don’t have four horses.”

“We’ll ride the horses if you can show us the way, lad,” Oakes said, packing up his bedroll. “Probably an abandoned fortress. If Felor burned all the villages on this side of the river, there wouldn’t be much need to support a fortress. Don’t know what shape it will be in, but it’s better than being out in the storm.”

“What about Blythe’s army?” Garrick asked. Even his cloak was doing nothing to keep the rain out and he wondered why he was worrying about ghosts. “We don’t have to come back and raise them again, do we?”

“They don’t care about rain. They will go to the human fortress with us,” Pieder said.

Garrick wasn’t sure how the fae lad would know, but it was the best reassurance they would get. “Let’s get packed and mount up then. Pieder can ride with Blythe and lead the way.”

They had the gear packed in short measure and set out with Pieder riding in front of Blythe on Risk. Garrick was relieved to see he bounced delightedly in the saddle and showed no fear of falling off. Soon he was leaning forward and singing a song to Risk as they road. Garrick could easily see the differences between him and Blythe. Blythe could pass for human, had passed for human, as long as his ears were covered. Pieder’s ears soared into high points that stuck out above his braids while Blythe’s ears were gentle points to be discovered by a lover and traced with a finger. He smiled to himself at that thought. Pieder’s features were much sharper. Even with the ears hidden by a cap, he’d draw strange looks. Which was a difficulty they’d have to face soon enough.

Garrick turned his attention from Pieder to the ground. Looking down was easier than trying to stare into the driving rain. The grass and scrub grew thickly but the horses had found a space that was easier going, and Garrick realized they were following the remnants of a road. He moved alongside Blythe. “Pieder, does this road lead to the fortress?”

Water dripped off his leaves and feathers and streamed down his naked body, but Pieder didn’t look uncomfortable. He glanced down at the ground then back to Garrick. “The humans used to go this way with horses and carts. You have horses. Why don’t you have a cart?”

“We travel faster without one,” Garrick said, not wanting to explain human transport in the middle of a rain storm. “Blythe, I think we can ride faster if this road holds.”

Blythe nodded. “If the fort has a place where the horses can stay dry, I don’t think Risk will mind going faster.”

“Horses inside?” Pieder giggled. “It is a big place. Horses will fit. Humans will fit. Deer will fit.” He waved at the sky. “Birds will fit.”

“Stables, Pieder,” Blythe said. “Horses stay in the stable where it is dry and they have plenty of hay.”

“Stables,” Pieder repeated. “I will remember the word. Maybe the human dwelling has stables for the horses. What is that horse’s name?” He asked, pointing toward Garrick’s mount.

“Djinn,” Garrick said. “I call him Djinn.”

“It is a good name. I like it. I will make him a song too so he will not be sad. I will make all the horses songs.”

Garrick sat watching as Blythe nudged Risk, and the horse moved easily to a trot. A song ? Well, it couldn’t hurt. Risk had been a stubborn horse and not easily ridden. Which was how he’d gotten his name, riding him into battle would have been a risk, and why he’d been willingly offered for this journey. But the horse had accepted Blythe as a rider without a fuss and now seemed happy to carry two riders through a storm. He wondered if all fae had an influence on horses.

*

The rain was blowing sideways in a heavy wind when Blythe spotted a darkness rising from the earth. He squinted into the rain trying to make out the shape. He could see towers. A fortress? But the towers were wrong. Too tall. Too elegant. A castle and not one of Felor’s stark fortresses. He eyed it warily. “You’re sure it’s empty?” he yelled over the rain.

Pieder nodded. “The humans left after the villages were burned. Once humans lived there who didn’t hate the fae, but they left too.”

Or were captured and burned . As they drew closer, he decided it didn’t look as if anyone had tried to burn the castle the way they had the villages. A castle would have been too valuable to burn, but once all the villages that would have supported it were gone, there was no reason to keep it occupied. If they were lucky, at least parts of it would still have a roof. The summer storm had grown fierce. He urged Risk into a faster gait. The horse shook his head and snorted his disapproval of the rain, but he kept moving.

The gates had been left ajar. A good sign that the place was empty. No occupied castle would leave the gates open and unguarded on a day like this. Oakes rode forward. “Let me go inside first, lads.”

Blythe waited while the big man rode through the gate. He could feel that the space inside was empty of people. It felt even emptier than the burned village had. He took a deep breath and let his senses wander. The only ghosts he could sense were behind them. No one had been burned at this castle. No one waited for them. He urged Risk through even though Oakes hadn’t called out that it was clear. Garrick followed, but didn’t call for him to stop. Garrick was as eager to get out of the rain as he was. An empty castle. A village might have offered fires for warmth and feed for the horses, but they’d already discovered the danger of villages. If they were lucky, they could stay dry until the storm passed.

The courtyard inside had been paved with stones. Water collected into grooves and channels and drained away as fast as it fell, offering some promise of a well-made structure. To one side, he spotted double doors hanging crookedly on warped hinges and knew he’d found what should be the stables. Risk seemed to know too, since the horse was heading in that direction. Blythe didn’t try to stop him and soon they were inside. The roof was whole except for a couple of leaks. There was plenty of space for their horses and more. Blythe pointed upward. “That’s a roof.”

“I like roofs,” Pieder said. “They make a building like a cave. Do we get off the horse now?”

“Yes, we can get off.” He slid off Risk, and Pieder dropped beside him. Blythe began unsaddling the horse. Pieder stood watching, so he handed him a couple of the packs. Pieder took them happily and then stood there holding them. “Put those somewhere dry and see if there are any rags we can use.”

“Rags?”

“Old cloth,” Blythe said. “Maybe some dry blankets.”

“Ah, you want to lie with your lover. I will find you something.”

Pieder was off searching the stables before Blythe had a chance to correct him. Not that he was entirely wrong. Blythe wouldn’t object to being wrapped in Garrick’s warm embrace. As the other two men rode into the stables, Blythe guessed they’d taken a moment to survey the area.

“Seems we’ll be safe enough,” Oakes said, dismounting Sunny. “It doesn’t look long deserted.”

Pieder appeared with an armful of ragged horse blankets. “Are these enough?”

“Good thinking, lad,” Oakes said grabbing a blanket with his good hand. He threw it over Sunny’s neck and began rubbing the horse down.

Pieder watched for a moment then he deposited the pile of blankets on the floor and picked up one to throw over Risk. The horse responded with a bob of his head, and Pieder began rubbing down Risk, one eye on Oakes as he did so. Blythe left him to it and went to search the stables. The rain meant there wasn’t much light and it wouldn’t do to start a fire in the stables, but his eyes were good in the dark.

He soon found a ladder to the loft and above a good supply of hay. After he’d pulled a layer of dusty and graying hay off the top of a pile, he decided the rest looked and smelled fresh enough to feed the horses. Oakes was right. The castle hadn’t been deserted long. He moved to the edge of the loft. “There’s hay up here and plenty of room to sleep.”

Oakes looked up. “Lad, I don’t mind your fondness for stables, but if we can find space inside the main building, we might be able to start a fire.”

“If they left dry wood behind,” Garrick added.

“Or furniture,” Oakes countered with. “I’d burn Felor’s throne to dry out right now. Lad, any idea what that army of yours is up to?”

Blythe stopped and listened for a moment. He could sense them as a sort of group. “Some are gathering in the courtyard. Those are the strongest. More will join them during the night.” He stopped a minute. The energy felt different than it had in the field. “I don’t think they all came. I feel mostly men. A few of the women. No children.”

“The strong ones follow,” Pieder said. “Not all of the ghosts have the strength to move far from where they died.”

“Will they stay in the courtyard if we’re inside the castle?” Garrick asked.

Blythe shrugged. He really didn’t know the answer to that. “Would you leave your army outside in the rain?” Now that he’d called them, he was responsible for them.

“No, but he doesn’t share a tent with all of them either, lad,” Oakes called up. “We’ll find a nice space for your army inside if they want. The place is big enough. But you might want to assign some of them guard duty, if they know how to do that.”

He felt a shifting of energy outside in the courtyard. “They know. They’re checking the buildings now for anyone who may pose a threat. Do you want me to throw down some hay?”

“The horses would appreciate it.”

He found a hay fork and tossed a fair amount into an empty space on one side of the stables. “No one is in the castle.” The information didn’t come in words as much as images and a sense of emptiness.

“Good to know. How much hay is up there with you? Enough to keep the horses fed if we stay put for a couple of days and dry out?”

He looked around. “We could stay for a couple of weeks. Maybe they left in a hurry?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they did. Let’s hope they left something we can make use of in the kitchens.”

Blythe’s stomach rumbled in response to that suggestion. He climbed down from the loft to help feed and stable the horses for the night. Garrick worked to drag the doors closed enough to keep the horses inside. “I don’t think they’ll want to go out,” Blythe said. “It’s raining harder.”

“Pieder, is there anything around that could threaten them? Wolves?” Garrick asked.

“They will be safe. Wolves will not come inside the castle.”

“You know this how?”

Pieder responded to Garrick’s challenge with a shrug. “They will be safe.”

Garrick gave an unsatisfied nod before grabbing his saddle bags and wedging himself into the space where the doors didn’t exactly meet. “Oakes, pull this as tight as you can when you leave. I think that’s the closest entrance to the main building,” he said pointing. “Let’s hope it opens.” With that, he dashed out into the rain.

Blythe was surprised to see Pieder had picked up his saddle bags. He wasn’t sure Pieder knew exactly what a squire was, but he seemed to be learning. He moved to the door to watch Garrick and to look for another door in case Garrick couldn’t open his. But Garrick set his broad shoulders against the door and in a moment, it creaked open. He waved for Blythe to follow, and Blythe ran to join him with Pieder close behind. He stopped when he reached the shelter of the doorway and turned to see Oakes pulling the stable door closed with his one arm. The man was strong, he had to admit that. Then Oakes splashed across the courtyard to join them.

“Don’t know why you lads are running. We’re not likely to get wetter.”

The door Garrick had found opened into a stone room with a much-used wooden table holding an old bucket and some rags. “It’s dry at least,” Garrick said.

“Good place to shake the mud off,” Oakes said. “We can burn the table if we need to.”

The small room opened into a large kitchen. Dim light filtered in from high windows along two walls. Many of the windows still held glass panes, and Blythe stood for a moment marveling at the expense.

“Well, lads, this looks cozy.” Oakes was standing in front of a massive fireplace. “See if you can find something for that fireplace, and we’ll soon be warm enough.”

“There is a table,” Pieder offered, pointing at the huge wooden table the kitchen staff would have used. “Do you want to burn it?”

“How about a handy supply of chopped wood,” Garrick said from a far corner of the room. “There could be a larger pile outside.” He picked up an armful of split logs. “If rainstorms like this one are common, I’m not surprised they kept some inside.” He piled the logs in the fireplace and it was a moment’s work with his flint to get the tinder to catch, the fire to take hold and the kitchen to fill with more light.

Blythe edged closer to the fire and Garrick, but Garrick looked around the kitchen. “I wonder where they kept the candles.” He moved to the nearest set of cupboards and pulled them open. “Old dish rags, tin mugs, rather beaten up.” He turned to put the items on table as he pulled them out. “Looks like they didn’t take everything with them. Ah, candles. Tallow from the smell of them.” He lit one from the fireplace and stuck it in a dented tin mug. There we go. Just like home.”

“You must’ve come from an odd home, lad,” Oakes said. “I’ll see if they left anything edible left behind. Strip down, lads, and let your clothes dry in front of the fire.”

“I don’t have clothes,” Pieder said as he watched Blythe and Garrick strip.

“Then just sit in front of the fire and dry off,” Garrick said, looking like he’d prefer Pieder facing the fire.

Blythe smiled. Garrick hadn’t minded him watching that first day when he stripped to take a bath. He was secretly pleased Garrick didn’t seem to feel the same way about Pieder, despite his pointed ears. “We need blankets,” he said. “Ours will take time to dry. Maybe they left some behind. I can go search.” He waited, hoping Garrick would understand the hint.

Garrick gave him a glance, looked at the packs, then back at him. “Ah, yes, blankets. We’ll both go. It may take a little time. Pieder can stay here and help Oakes.”

“I can search,” Pieder put in.

Blythe was about to object, but Oakes was faster. “Let them go, lad,” the man said. “If there are blankets, they’ll find them. They don’t need you watching.”

Pieder tilted his head and drew his eyebrows together. “I shouldn’t watch them look for blankets?”

Garrick led the way out of the room, and Blythe left Oakes to give whatever reason he wanted to Pieder. It had been too long since he’d had Garrick to himself. He followed him through an archway into a large hall with a fireplace that rivaled that of the kitchen. A quick look around revealed only a broken bench had been left behind. “We can drag it to the kitchen to sleep on,” Garrick said. “It’ll be warmer for you than the stone floor.”

“Not much softer though,” Blythe said. Only one person would fit on a narrow bench . Then he realized Garrick was giving him the honor of sleeping on the bench. “I mean, I...” He paused, trying to find a careful explanation, but the words fell out. “We both won’t fit.”

Garrick chuckled. “So, you’d rather be on the cold floor with your human?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to a flight of stairs. “Come along. Let’s see if we can find something to soften that floor.”

Taken off guard, Blythe rushed to catch up with him. He stared at Garrick’s naked back and buttocks as he climbed the stairs. He nearly tripped over an uneven step as he watched the muscles of Garrick’s cheeks flex. He felt his cock swell despite the cold of bare stones and bare skin.

“Garrick.”

He stopped and turned, hard muscles against hard stone. Blythe wanted him. He needed him. Garrick’s eyebrows raised in a question, then his gaze moved downward. “Perhaps the blankets can wait.”

Blythe nodded. He reached out to touch him, placing his hand flat against the warm skin of his naked chest. “I need your warmth.”

“The ghosts?” Garrick took a step forward as he asked the question, making it easier for Blythe to reach him.

“I don’t think so. At least, they aren’t in here. But I need to feel you touching me. Right now, I don’t want to be a knight raising an army. I just want to be with you.”

Garrick moved forward until his body pressed against Blythe’s. Blythe leaned into him, resting against him for a moment, feeling his heartbeat, his warmth, the strength of his muscles. Garrick’s hands moved along his back then down to caress his buttocks. Another step forward had Blythe’s back pressed against the stone so he was captive between the cold castle walls and Garrick’s warm naked skin.

Garrick kissed him. Blythe gave himself into the kiss, letting Garrick’s warmth pour into him like mulled wine. He didn’t want to sip at love; he wanted to swallow it whole. He hadn’t had time to truly appreciate Garrick’s acknowledgement of their love, and they weren’t going to have much time alone if they had to lead an army across the country to defeat Felor. But they had now. Or at least until it stopped raining.

The kisses moved to his jawbone with Garrick tasting his skin and rousing the fire within him. He felt cold air against his wet skin as Garrick moved downward. He pulled in a ragged breath when Garrick reached his nipples. Garrick stopped to nibble on one, and Blythe sucked in the cold air of the castle like it held life itself. Garrick nipped at him and pain and passion mingled so closely that Blythe could focus on nothing but his body and the sensations Garrick was rousing. “Don’t stop,” he moaned.

Garrick didn’t. He dropped to his knees and warmth reached Blythe’s cock. Blythe tangled his fingers in Garrick’s hair and pulled him closer. Garrick didn’t object. Instead, he busied himself with Blythe’s balls, teasing him to a hardness that made him groan and push Garrick’s head back. “Take me.”

Garrick’s mouth enveloped him, taking him in as Garrick’s hands cupped his buttocks. He let himself go, giving into the rhythm and the warmth as Garrick sucked him to ecstasy. For a moment, he wasn’t in a cold castle. He wasn’t worried about Stephan and Felor and war. He wasn’t cold and hungry. For a moment, he felt as if he belonged to everything around him. He needed nothing. Only Garrick and love and this sweet moment of climax. He soared, his energy filling the castle until it popped like a bubble.

He took a moment to catch his breath and watch Garrick move to his feet. “I can do you.”

Garrick chuckled. “Blythe, I’ve ridden through rain that soaked me to the bones. I’m still too cold to have recovered.”

“Oh. When I’m cold, I need you.”

Garrick nodded. “I’ve noticed that, but I think that has to do with your army of ghosts. Do you have any idea what you’re supposed to do with them?”

Blythe shook his head, trying to get his thoughts around the reality of the journey they still had to make. He hadn’t planned what to do next because he hadn’t planned for any of this to happen.

Garrick seemed to read the confusion in his face. He gave a little chuckle. “Well, we can figure it out as we go.”

Go. He didn’t want to go. Not yet . “Can we stay here for a few days?” he asked. “I think I need to rest.”

Garrick touched his cheek and rested his forehead against Blythe’s. “We all do. Except maybe Pieder. We’ve earned a rest. As long as we can find provisions, I doubt Oakes will object to having a few days to dry out. So, let’s go find some of those provisions.”

Blythe followed Garrick up the stairs and to the next floor. “This is what we need,” Garrick said as he opened a wooden door that had been painted white with a pattern of green leaves.

Blythe stepped out of the stairwell into a room with tall arched windows. Chests had been left scattered along the length of the room and a tapestry still hung from one wall. The solar where the ladies of the household would have worked at sewing and embroidery in comfort. Blythe picked up a torn cushion. “Do you think they left blankets?” He could imagine the four of them trying to wrap themselves in the heavy tapestry. It hung crookedly, as if someone had tried to take it down then given up and walked away. Or fled.

“I’m looking for the mending.” Garrick opened a chest. “They may have left that behind. With any luck, they expected to return at some point and left even more for us to find. If you find clothes, look for something that will fit Pieder. We can’t drag him across the country dressed in leaves.”

“No one will believe he’s human,” Blythe said, opening a chest and pulling out a bundle of cloth.

“From a distance they won’t notice and neither of you are going close enough to anyone to be spotted until we reach Stephan. Ah ha, clothes.”

“I’ve got...sheets? A blanket? Something.” Garrick chuckled at him as he worked to spread out the bundle he’d pulled from the chest. “I think it’s half a skirt and part of a blanket.”

“Probably saving them for other uses. I’ve got a tunic with a rip it in. It’s a bit small but it might fit Pieder.”

They searched the other chests and an adjoining chamber and found enough clothing to outfit Pieder, though it would be a mismatch of materials and colors. If anyone got close enough to notice, they would have other problems. They also discovered a couple more blankets, one with a large hole singed by someone sitting too close to the fire.

Inspecting one of the blankets, Blythe wondered how they’d ever expected to ride across the country with any of the fae. Of course, he’d been expecting to find someone like him. Another lad with somewhat pointed ears that could be hidden by longish hair. Not points that stuck above the hair and angular features that couldn’t belong to any human. Taking Pieder along would be dangerous, but then they also hadn’t expected to be leading an army of ghosts. Gathering his finds into a bundle, he let Garrick lead the way back to the kitchen.

Pieder was stirring an iron pot that sat at the edge of the fire at a strange angle. A couple of stones were wedged along the bottom to keep a crack on one side near the top so the contents didn’t spill out. “I am stirring soup. It smells good.”

Oakes waved Garrick and Blythe toward the fire. “I found a couple of crocks with lentils and barley. I added the last of the venison, so we’ll have a warm dinner for tonight.”

“I will hunt when the rain stops,” Pieder said. “Then we will have more food.”

“We found you some clothes.” Blythe held out the bundle wondering how hard it was going to be to convince Pieder to put them on.

“Can I stop stirring the soup?” he asked, looking at Oakes.

“Aye, I’ll take over, lad,” Oakes said, taking his place at the fire.

Pieder jumped up and eagerly grabbed the bundle Blythe was holding out to him. He pulled out a set of blue-dyed leggings. “These are like the sky. And this is like a flower.” He held up a bright yellow undertunic. “And here is grass.” That was the green tunic. “And the night sky.” The ripped dark blue skirt they’d found. “How do I wear them? Do I get to put them on all at once? You wore many clothes when we rode the horses.”

“Yes, you can wear them at the same time. And we found shoes that should fit you. I’ll show you how to get dressed after I’ve had something to eat.”

“There is soup,” Pieder said.

Blythe nodded, accepting the tin mug Oakes handed him. He was busy comparing Pieder’s eagerness to his own reactions since Garrick had found him. He’d always been uncertain and worried. Pieder was confident and pleased with everything. Would Garrick grow bored with his constant need for reassurance when he could see how calmly Pieder took everything?

Chapter 24

Garrick woke to the feeling that it was morning even though there was little light to greet the day. They’d slept on the kitchen floor close to the fire. He’d given into Blythe’s insistence that they didn’t need to set a guard because the ghosts would guard them. He wasn’t sure about their ghostly companions, but in the heavy rain, he didn’t expect discovery or attack. He could indulge Blythe. And himself. For the first time since leaving Stephan’s camp, he’d slept well and deeply with Blythe wrapped in his arms.

Morning had come, and he had responsibilities. He regretfully untangled himself from Blythe’s sleep-warm body and rose. The fire was burning well. Oakes must have woken in the night to tend it. The man was sleeping close to it with Pieder curled up against his back. The fae lad hadn’t been able to settle to sleep alone on the stone floor. He’d complained that he was used to sleeping with his friends in nests they wove of branches in the trees. The castle floor was hard and the castle too strange. He would have gone on, but Oakes made a nest of blankets and said he could sleep beside him if he would just settle down. Pieder had given in and dropped off to sleep with surprising quickness. Garrick sighed. He hoped Blythe’s new squire wasn’t going to prove as troublesome as he was beginning to suspect.

Wrapping his naked body in a blanket, he left the others sleeping and found his way through the castle. He’d noted five towers when they’d approached. They’d been riding south and west. Stephan would continue west in his pursuit of Felor. He wanted to find a tower with a northwest view.

He climbed a set of well-worn stairs as they spiraled upward. He needed to see what the road toward Stephan looked like and this would be his only chance to observe the landscape from a safe distance. He had to figure out how to transport two decidedly fae lads and an army of ghost safely across the country side. Though, he wasn’t sure what he’d need to protect a troop of ghosts against.

The tower had an overhanging roof which protected it from some of the downpour. One side of the stone floor was wet from blowing rain, but the window to the north brought a worrying view. Even through the rain, he could see that a river ran just past the castle walls. A convenient bridge crossed it, promising quick passage to the other side, but beyond that was a stretch of uncultivated land and a fortress.

He watched carefully for a few minutes and saw movement near the top of the wall. Guards . Soldiers watching the river and the land across it. He pulled his blanket tighter and leaned against the window frame, studying the scene.

Despite the battle with Stephan, Felor had left troops to watch a river and an empty fortress. Or perhaps it was more the land that they watched. The fae . Felor knew there were fae in the forests and kept this fortress, and probably others, to watch for them. The men who’d attacked them a few days ago might have been a patrol and the cluster of huts shelter away from their fortress. Luckily, they hadn’t been spotted by any larger forces during their journey or on their way to the castle. Felor might not be able to spare larger forces and the guards were watching for those slipping out of the fae lands, not into them. They also had yet to notice that the castle was now occupied. The heavy rain was helping with that, but boredom and disinterest might also play a part.

He left the tower and made his way back to the kitchen. The others had risen and were eating breakfast. Pieder and Blythe were still naked and wrapped in blankets. Oakes was wearing his undertunic. Garrick realized he was wandering around with nothing more than a blanket for warmth. There were only the four of them and clothes seemed unnecessary. He accepted a bowl of soup and settled down by the warmth of the fire. “We need to be careful with the fire. There’s an occupied fortress just across the river and we don’t want them to come investigate.”

Pieder frowned. “Humans. If they come, we must run into the forest. They don’t like to go near the forest.”

“We’ll be safe if we don’t let them know we’re here,” Garrick said. “But we have to figure out how to leave here without them noticing. The river is on the castle’s north side. A bridge crosses it, but it will put us close to the fortress and the guards.”

“Maybe the river we crossed earlier,” Oakes mused. “We could double back to where it’s shallower.”

“A possibility. We’d have to travel at night and quickly in case there are patrols. We’re lucky we had the rain to cover our movement when we rode this way.”

“Pieder, did you know about the other fortress?” Blythe asked.

Pieder made a movement that might have been a shrug. “The humans don’t come on this side of the river. They don’t go near the forest. If they do, we shoot at them with arrows. They try to shoot back, but we are too fast. It is a fun game.”

“Probably only for the fae,” Garrick said, wondering how fast they’d have to be to dodge arrows. Though shooting into thick leaves would put Felor’s men at a disadvantage. “I doubt much of the fortress is visible from the forest.” He gave Pieder the benefit of the doubt on that. He didn’t think the fae would deliberately lead them into a trap. “I’m surprised with the war going on that Felor bothers to keep it manned.”

“I want to see it,” Blythe said. “I want to know what we’re up against.”

Garrick saw the determined look in his eyes and nodded. He stood, gathering the blanket around himself, and led the way to the tower, with Oakes and Pieder also following.

“It’s like a tree,” Pieder said, marveling at the steps as he climbed them. “A tree inside for humans.”

Blythe didn’t respond. When they reached the top of the tower, he stood gazing silently out the window for a long time. Then he turned, head bowed. Pieder’s eyes followed him and something knowing seemed to gleam in the fae’s eyes. Garrick stepped between him and Blythe and gestured for Oakes to leave with Pieder.

“Blythe?” he asked softly as the others left.

“We need to stay here tonight,” Blythe said.

“Of course.” If that was all Blythe needed, he was happy to agree. “It will give me time to plan the best way to leave. It’s raining hard enough that I doubt we’ll be noticed. If we are, we can follow Pieder’s suggestion and hide in the forest.” Though if men showed up at the courtyard gate, it would be too late to run.

“All Pieder knows is the forest,” Blythe said. “We’d be safe in it, but I don’t know if we would be happy.”

“We? You and I?” he asked, the thought pulling him from his musings about defense. “You don’t think I’d be happy living as a fae?”

Blythe looked at him for a moment then laughed. “You’d look good dressed in feathers and leaves, but I don’t think either of us would be happy trying to sleep in a nest of branches in the trees.”

Garrick moved closer. “How sturdy are those branches?”

Blythe wrapped his arms around Garrick’s neck, his blanket falling to the floor. “Can I try you?” he asked, his voice echoing Pieder’s lilt.

“I’m yours.” Garrick wrapped his arms around Blythe’s waist and lifted him. Blythe looped his legs around Garrick and settled into a position that balanced their weight. “And I will keep you safe and happy.”

Blythe tilted his head. “Show me how happy.” Garrick leaned forward and kissed him. He felt Blythe’s hands tugging at the blanket he was still wrapped in. “Humans wear too much clothing,” Blythe said.

“I’ll admit wearing nothing more than leaves and feathers would have advantages.” Garrick backed to the wall on the drier side of the tower room and tilted himself so Blythe could find his swelling cock. “We should have brought some oil.”

“I took care of myself before we came up here,” Blythe said. “I wanted to get you alone.”

“Did you want to see the other fortress or just have me to yourself?”

“Both.” Blythe lifted himself and wiggled his hips. Garrick’s cock slipped along his buttocks.

Garrick gave a shuddering sigh. He needed this as much as Blythe did. His mouth found Blythe’s, and he reveled in the feel of his tongue against his lover’s. He reached between them and found his own cock. He held it firm while Blythe lowered himself onto it. Warmth enveloped him. He released his grip and wrapped both arms around Blythe.

Blythe set the rhythm, pulling himself up and letting himself slide down Garrick’s cock. His tongue twisted against Garrick’s, and Garrick could feel the warmth building between them. He focused on supporting Blythe as he moved up and down. Blood rushed from his head to his cock, leaving him feeling lightheaded, so he braced himself against the wall as Blythe lowered down on him again.

Then Blythe pulled away from their kiss. Not in rejection but lost in himself. He leaned back, seeming caught in the moment as he moved up and down, his breath in rhythm with his movements. His hands gripped Garrick’s upper arms. He moved faster, arching his back and drawing breath in gasps. Garrick watched the glow that came to Blythe’s face as he approached orgasm, totally lost in their lovemaking.

Garrick shifted his grip so one hand was free and found Blythe’s cock as it rubbed against his abdomen. He wrapped it in a strong grip, thumbing the head and feeling the delicate skin. Blythe moaned. Garrick ran his hand over the shaft and thumbed the head again. He felt the shiver that ran through Blythe. He moved his hand more swiftly as Blythe bounced more rapidly. Blythe came between them and the sticky warmth of it flowed down his abdomen. He found his own release, letting his warmth shoot itself into Blythe. Then he carefully lowered them both to the floor, finding his discarded blanket and wrapping them in it.

Chapter 25

Blythe woke wrapped in Garrick’s embrace. The parts of him that were draped over Garrick felt warm, but his exposed legs were chilly. He could hear rain and wind outside. The tower room wasn’t a place to endure without warm clothes or a brazier. Garrick woke as he moved. “Maybe we should go back to the kitchen,” Blythe muttered.

Garrick yawned and stretched, causing Blythe to move with his chest. “I hope Oakes kept the fire going.”

“If you do that again,” Blythe said, stretching along his length, “I’m not going to want to leave.”

Garrick chuckled. “Keep in mind that my back is against the cold stones of the floor. You don’t want me to catch a chill.”

Realizing how cold the room was, Blythe clambered off of him. “You aren’t going to get sick, are you?” They should have gone back downstairs after they’d shared each other.

“I’ve slept on cold floors before.” Garrick pushed up from the floor and to his feet. “It’s never been this enjoyable, but I could use a little warming up and some food. Let’s see what Oakes has warming by the fire.” He grabbed Blythe’s hand and headed for the stairs. “It’s probably soup again.”

Blythe stumbled, his attention focused on Garrick’s big, warm hand wrapped around his own. Garrick stopped, concerned. Blythe smiled and shrugged away his embarrassment. He liked the sensation of his hand in Garrick’s, the feeling of intimacy. He’d never thought he’d find someone who cared about him this way. Someone who wanted to walk through castle hallways holding his hand. He held his breath and waited for Garrick to let go as they entered the kitchen together, but he didn’t. He led Blythe through the doorway, boldly holding his hand.

There was no one to notice. “At least they left the fire going for us,” Garrick said. He picked up his undertunic, which had been left draped over a bench near the fire. “And I suspect Oakes would like us to put some clothes on. At least an undertunic.”

“Does he mind? You know, about us?”

Garrick’s eyebrows went up. “Mind? Oakes?” He paused. “He’ll object strongly if I come down with a cold and he has to take care of me. He’ll blame me if I let you come down with a cold. But, no, he doesn’t mind about us. He wouldn’t be my man if he did. Now, get dressed so I don’t get in trouble for letting you catch a cold.” He tossed Blythe his undertunic.

Blythe snatched the cloth out of the air. He was feeling chilly, even with the fire nearby. “Maybe Oakes and Pieder are taking care of the horses.”

Garrick nodded and shoved his feet into his boots. “A sensible suggestion. Pieder’s new clothes are still here, but somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Let’s find out.”

They stood in the doorway, staring out into the rain-filled courtyard. “We could just wait for them to get back from the stables,” Blythe suggested. “After all, we just put on dry clothes.” Then he spotted something down by the entrance gates. “What’s that?” he asked pointing.

Garrick leaned forward, peering in that direction. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t there when we came in.” He vanished into the kitchen for a moment and came back with his sword in hand. “It must not have been there when Oakes went to see to the horses or he’d have investigated.”

Together they dashed through the rain to the gate and the mysterious bundle that lay on the stones. “It’s food,” Blythe yelled when they were about halfway there. And it was. There were enough rabbits for a couple each plus berries and wild roots wrapped in leaves. “Pieder’s friends?” He scooped up a few berries and dropped them into his mouth.

“It looks like it,” Garrick said. “We’ll eat well today.” He picked up the rabbits and headed for the stables. Blythe gathered the rest of the food and followed.

Oakes and Pieder were in the stables with the horses. Pieder, wearing only a cloak made out of the old skirt, was brushing Risk. For a moment Blythe wondered where they’d found the brush, but then realized that as Garrick’s manservant, Oakes probably traveled with one.

Garrick held up the rabbits. “Pieder, have your friends been watching us?”

Pieder paused in his brushing and nodded. “Men are easy to watch. You ride on big horses down roads so everyone can see you.”

Oakes leaned against Sunny. “How long have the fae been watching us?”

“Since the village where the ghosts called to Blythe. We were confused because men kill fae, but you didn’t want to kill Blythe. You wanted to kiss him.” He looked at Garrick with the last statement.

Garrick lowered the rabbits. “Do other men riding horses come this way?”

“They used to. We shot arrows at them. They were too far from the forest for us to hit them, but they went back to the other side of the river.”

“Do the fae cross the river?” Blythe asked. It would help explain why Felor kept a guard on this castle and the bridge across the river.

Pieder gave one of his quick shrugs. “We do where the forest still grows. We found you there. But the villages are gone and no one leaves us gifts.” The last was said wistfully.

“What sort of gifts?” Garrick asked.

“Fresh bread,” Blythe said, remembering. “Milk and butter.”

Pieder nodded. “We liked it when humans left us gifts. We would leave gifts too. Feathers and pretty rocks. And sometimes deer or rabbits.”

“I remember,” Blythe said. “I kept the feathers and rocks I would find.”

“A heartwarming story,” Oakes said. “But today I think the rabbits are of more use to us.” He reached out to take them from Garrick. “I’ll go start lunch.”

The rest of them followed him, glad to get out of the rain and into the warmth of the kitchen. Blythe wrapped himself in a blanket. “Are we safe to keep the fire going?”

“They won’t spot a bit of smoke in this rain, lad. And no one is going to bother to ride out and investigate an empty castle.”

Blythe nodded. He stripped off his now wet undertunic and trousers and set them to dry again in front of the fire. Then he stretched out on the floor. He fell asleep to the smell of roasting meat.

*

Garrick watched Blythe doze. He was sleeping a great deal, and he wasn’t sure if that was because of the ghosts or simply because Blythe had been through too much in a very short period of time. He needed rest, food and a dozen other things Garrick couldn’t offer yet, but at least he could let him get as much sleep as he needed.

He wanted to take another look across the river. He didn’t trust that their fire wouldn’t be seen. Not if the sky cleared. They’d seen one fortress, but he didn’t know if there were others along the river bank. If he’d been Felor, he wouldn’t have wasted men on guarding this river border with Stephan on his heels, but he wasn’t sure how much Felor feared the fae.

Giving Oakes a nod, he left the kitchen, crossed the main hall and made his way through more passageways until he found a door that opened to another stairway leading upward. This tower was larger and situated to look over what had been the main approach to the castle. On this side the castle, a courtyard gave way to a cluster of buildings that would have been a small village. But the rain was coming from that direction and hid much of the view beyond the gate. He made his way to another window and looked across the river. Nothing stirred. There was no solid bulk that would indicate another fortress. Just the jagged remains of a ruined bridge in the distance.

So if they rode that way, there would be no one to spot them, but no way to cross the river, which was now running deep with all the water the storm had dropped. Even if they rode back the way they’d come, they might now find the river impassable. Felor’s men would have taken out any other unguarded bridges. He realized that only luck and the dry summer had gotten them to the far side of the river the first time. Now they were trapped. The men across the river didn’t have to watch the entire stretch of flowing water, just the bridge. He had to sneak four men and three horses across that bridge.

They’d leave before dawn, he decided. The way the weather looked it would still be raining and even the best trained men were least alert a scant few hours before dawn. He doubted the men Felor had left across the river were well trained or even well led.

He’d go first ... no, he’d send Oakes first. If anyone challenged the man, he’d be able to bluff his way out of it. As he kept telling them, no one worried about a one-armed man. If Oakes made it, he’d lead Blythe and Pieder across. Once they reached the other side, they’d ride as fast as possible away from the fortress. Even if they were spotted, he doubted the others would have horses saddled and prepared for an early morning chase. They would be well away and able to keep ahead of any chase. Or so he hoped.

His mind made up, he decided to spend more time exploring the castle. He would have thought that those in the fortress would have quickly cleared out anything of value, but their early finds had proven that thought wrong. Fear. It was the only explanation. They left in fear and still feared the castle too much to even scavenge the deserted structure.

He made his way through empty chambers finding remnants of what was once a more elegant time. He found the armory. The weapons were gone, but wooden racks stood waiting for spears and swords. A heavy chest yielded the most valuable find: a map of the Westlands. He stood looking at it for some time. It must have been drawn before Felor’s reign because it showed villages dotting the land between the river and the forest and a couple of larger towns on the river’s banks. This area had once thrived, but he didn’t have time for the past. Not now. The map also showed where the castle stood in relation to Felor’s fortresses and the possible route Stephan would be following. He spent some time studying it.

Another stairway led to the chamber that must have been used by the castle’s lord. The ornate carved bed still remained, though there were signs that birds and mice had been nesting in what was left of the mattress. A carved door led to another of the castle’s towers. This one wasn’t positioned for a useful view, but he opened it anyway. And was glad he did.

The open door revealed a bathing room that would have made Stephan jealous. The room held a tub large enough to fit, well, more than two. He wondered how many servants it took to fill it until he spotted a lever on one side of the tub. Raising it released a stream of water into the tub. There must be water tanks somewhere on the roof, he thought. And the room had a convenient fireplace to add warmth. He was tempted to fetch Blythe and spend more time exploring the promised delights, but he needed to prepare the group for an early morning ride.

*

Blythe struggled to hide his disappointment at Garrick’s announcement. He wanted to spend more time at the castle. He was finally getting to know Garrick and that was important. But he had to admit part of his hesitation was because he had no idea how to deal with the army he’d summoned. “What about the ghosts?” he asked.

“I need you to tell me.” Garrick gave him a searching look, the kind he gave him when he was worried about the effects the ghost had on him. “Will they follow you?”

“They did on the way here,” he admitted. He couldn’t use them as an excuse to stay longer. He gave a little shrug. “Some of them took a while to catch up with us. Maybe because we rode during the day. I don’t think they’re very strong in daylight.”

“We’ll be leaving well before the sun’s up,” Garrick said.

“They don’t like running water,” Pieder interrupted. “That is why they stay on this side of the river.”

“So they won’t come with us,” Blythe said, not sure if he was disappointed or not.

“They will follow you,” Pieder said. “That is why they need a leader, to get across the river. They don’t have much power in daylight, but we will see them again in the night.”

“That’s good.” Blythe realized how doubtful his voice sounded.

“We’ll get across the river, lad,” Oakes said. “Tonight we’ll eat well and catch some more rest before we leave.”

Blythe nodded. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Garrick must have noticed this because he sat beside him and put an arm over his shoulders. Blythe leaned against him while Oakes dished out everyone’s share of the meal.

Chapter 26

Blythe woke to a cold touch. One of the ghosts stood over him. The first one who had answered his summons when he raised them. The one with the braids and pointed ears. “Are we in danger?” he asked, ready to wake the others.

The ghost shook his head. Blythe let out his breath. He could hear his racing heart and the soft hiss of the banked fire. Nothing more. So not an attack. What then? “Is it time for us to leave?”

The ghost shook his head. He pointed at Blythe and motioned for him to follow. Before Blythe could respond, the ghost turned and strode out of the room.

At least he seemed to stride. His feet made no sound against the stones of the kitchen and Blythe knew they made no real contact with the floor. He started to wake Garrick then paused. Garrick needed to sleep, not to hear about his latest worry . If he needed to, he could wake him when he figured out what the ghosts wanted.

Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed his undertunic from where it lay near the fire. They were his ghosts, his army, but he hadn’t confronted them since the night he’d summoned them. He pulled on the undertunic and wondered if he should dress. He decided to find out what was going on first. If he stopped to dress, he’d disturb the others. If he needed help, they’d all have to get dressed.

He opened the kitchen door far enough to push through into the hall that lead to the courtyard. Oakes had barred the door to the courtyard for the night, and it took him a few heartbeats to remove the bar quietly enough not to wake the others. He stepped into drizzling rain and the open courtyard.

The ghosts stood, ready for battle and holding weapons that no man could ever feel the touch of. The one who’d summoned him pointed. Blythe took a moment to get his bearings and realized he was pointing toward the fortress across the river. The fortress that endangered their safety.

“They want to attack the humans.” Pieder’s soft voice came out of the darkness, and Blythe realized he’d been missing from the kitchen.

“I know. But I don’t know what they can do.” His ghost army. His impossible ghost army standing there with the shadows of weapons.

“Maybe we should let them show us,” Pieder said. “They are very determined.”

Blythe studied the gathered ghosts. The fae Ri had challenged him to raise an army. Now it was time to learn how to use them. Apparently they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, attack without him. He looked back toward the door into the castle, but he could feel the restless rush of energy from the ghosts. No, there was no time to wake Garrick and convince him that attacking a fortress with an army of ghosts was something they needed to do. He had to trust himself. And his army.

He looked up at the cloud-covered sky. Rain still fell, though not with the stormy fury it had when they’d arrived. The night was dark enough that he and Pieder should be able to walk almost up to the fortress across the river without being spotted by any guards. On a night like this, the guards were probably huddled under their cloaks in any convenient doorways that kept them out of the rain. “Let’s go.”

Pieder’s night vision was even better than his, and they quickly scrambled across the overgrown ground between their castle and the river. Stopping at the bridge, Blythe waited to see if any guards patrolled the land between the river and the opposing fortress. No shapes moved in the empty field. No one wanted to patrol an empty field during a rainy night. He could feel his army gathering behind him but when he looked back, he saw nothing but dark night and empty ground.

“They can’t cross the river,” Pieder whispered. “Not unless you cross.”

Blythe gave him a sharp look. “How do you know?”

“Because if they could, they would have already attacked the humans. They need you.”

He nodded. They were his army. They needed him. He wished Garrick were with him. Or even Oakes. He put his hand on the stone railing of the bridge and started across, keeping his back bent so that he wouldn’t form an easy target over the top of the stones. He could hear Pieder’s breath behind him and knew the fae was doing the same.

Then they were across the river. The land on this side was kept better cleared with no trees or brush to offer shelter to any attacker. Staying low, Blythe ran across the open ground to the very walls of the fortress. He could hear Pieder following. No one challenged them. No arrows came their way. He hugged the fortress walls where it would be difficult for anyone above to see him without looking straight down. He wasn’t sure what to do next. He couldn’t scale the walls or break through gates locked for the night.

He felt the first ghost go through him, and cold hit him like he’d been thrown into freezing water. The ghost flowed through his body and into the stone. Then another. Another beside that one, just to his side. He spread his arms, reaching out as far as he could and felt more ghosts move into the walls. Where they soaked into the stone, they seemed to make it easier for the next ghost in line and soon the thick stone wall might not have existed at all.

Then the screams started. The deep screams of men in terror and the shrill cries of women. He clung to the wall, not knowing what was happening inside but unable to move. The screams felt like they were flowing back through the stones and holding him to the wall. Did the ghosts need him to get back out? What if the men in the fortress came around the wall? Would they find him and kill him? He didn’t think the ghosts could do much to protect him against a sword or knife blade. He heard the sound iron hinges squealing as the fortress gate was flung open.

“They’re running away,” Pieder said from further along the wall. “Mostly the women but a few of the old men.”

He felt ghosts flow back through the wall, and his teeth chattered with the cold. “The other men? Are they staying to fight?”

Pieder shook his head. “No. I think they are dead.”

“How?”

Pieder took his hand, and he was surprised how warm it felt. “The ghosts took the warmth from them. They took it from you too when they went through you, but they didn’t want to harm you so they moved quickly. They took all the warmth from the others.”

He nodded, aware that he was shivering, wet and unable to let go of the stones of the fortress.

“I need to get you back,” Pieder said. “You need your human. He will make you warm again.”

Blythe let the slender fae pull him away from the wall and leaned on him as he was half dragged back to the castle and the others. There was no need to move quickly now. Or to hide from watching guards. Pieder was wiry but strong, and eventually Blythe felt the stones of the courtyard under his feet.