Chapter 27

Garrick gasped awake in shock as something freezing cold hit his body. His arms found Blythe before his mind recognized him. Blythe shivered into his embrace, gasping as if trying to breathe in warmth. He was wearing nothing but a wet undertunic.

“Oakes, build up the fire,” he yelled, pulling the undertunic off Blythe’s freezing body. He needed something to cover Blythe with. He grabbed a blanket and pulled it over them both. He was surprised when he felt the weight of more cloth fall on him.

“He did well, but he has not yet learned to control their energy.”

Garrick found himself looking up at Pieder’s angular features. The fire flared, and he saw something in Pieder’s expression that went deeper than the fae’s usual cheerfulness. “Control what energy?” he asked, worried that he knew the answer. Blythe had been this cold once before.

“The ghosts,” Pieder said. “They are his army. He led them and now we don’t have to worry about the men in the other fortress seeing us when we leave. His army took care of them.”

“How?” Garrick asked. “How do ghosts take care of armed men? What did they do to him? He’s freezing.”

“They took their warmth. That is the only weapon left to them. They were killed with fire and now they kill with cold. It is difficult for Blythe when they do so, but he must learn before we go to fight.”

“So he sent them to kill a fortress of people?” Oakes asked, his voice calmer than Garrick’s.

“They want to kill those who killed them.” Blythe’s teeth chattered with the answer, and Garrick wrapped his arms tighter. He wanted to strangle Pieder. He wasn’t sure why, but he suspected the little fae was at the bottom of this.

“They killed the soldiers,” Pieder said. “The others, the women and old men, they let escape.”

“So now they’ll run to the next village or the next fortress with the tale,” Oakes said, but his tone wasn’t unhappy.

Still holding Blythe close, Garrick pushed to one elbow. “Did they harm you?”

“They will not harm him,” Pieder said. “He is their connection to the world.”

“They’ve nearly frozen him to death,” he shouted. He could still feel cold radiating from Blythe’s body. “If he’d been out there alone, they might have killed him.”

Pieder gave one of his sharp shrugs. “He was not alone. I did not know he would be this cold, but you are here to help him.”

Garrick took a deep breath. There was no sense in being angry with Pieder . The fae lad couldn’t know any more about how Blythe would react than the rest of them did, and right now, it was Blythe who needed him. He groped the area around where he lay, hoping to find another blanket.

Oakes must have known what he was searching for. He draped another blanket over Blythe. “The fire is burning well, and he’ll soon be warm. No need to worry about smoke now. They’ll have left food behind. Clothing, weapons.”

Garrick sighed, feeling Blythe’s weight move with his breath. “We’ll check when it’s light out.”

“The lad needs food now,” Oakes said. “I’ll put what’s left of the rabbit to warm. Pieder can watch that, and I’ll go check the fort. If anyone is left, a one-armed man won’t seem much of a threat.”

“So you always tell me,” Garrick said, turning his attention to Blythe. Oakes would do what needed to be done. And perhaps it was best if Blythe didn’t know what that was . He heard Oakes moving around as he built up the fire and then the soft scrape of the door as he left.

Pieder didn’t seem satisfied to watch the rabbit. Instead he lay down and wiggled under the coverings, pressing Blythe between them. “What are you doing?” Garrick demanded.

“Helping. He is cold. This castle is cold. Together we will warm him.”

Garrick started to object, then realized it wasn’t a bad suggestion. Blythe was still shivering. Whatever he’d done during the night had shaken him as well as chilled him. At least this way he knew where the fae was. “What happened? Tell me so he doesn’t have to.”

Pieder shrugged his thin shoulders. “The ghosts are strongest when it is dark out, but they don’t cross water. They need Blythe. He led them, and they crossed the bridge like leaves blown by the wind. He reached the walls of the fortress, and they kept going through him and through the walls.”

Through the walls? Yes, stone wouldn’t stop the dead, but it would stop Blythe. “He could have been hit with an arrow,” Garrick protested, then stilled his voice. He hadn’t been. Blythe had made it across the field and to the fortress and unleashed a ghost army unaided by anyone except Pieder. He wasn’t sure how much help Pieder truly was, though he’d made sure Blythe got back to the castle.

“I heard them scream,” Blythe said. “The men they killed. The ghosts have been angry a long time.”

“How many,” Garrick wondered. “How big an army could they defeat?”

“Too long,” Blythe muttered. “It takes too long for them to freeze a man.”

“They nearly froze you, but they managed to defeat a small fortress,” Garrick said thoughtfully. “That will help us leave here, and they could cause panic in any force waiting to attack in battle.” He hugged Blythe. “How do we keep this from happening to you?”

“He needs you,” Pieder said. “He needs your warmth. Kiss him.”

Sometimes the fae lad made good suggestions . He kissed Blythe, who opened his mouth, letting him enter. Then Garrick felt a warmth beneath his tunic, wrapping around his cock. He pulled out of the kiss. “Pieder,” he snapped. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping.” The voice came from beneath the pile of blankets.

“Humans ask first.” He struggled to keep his voice even.

“But then you would say no. You will be able to give him more warmth this way.”

“What’s happening?” Blythe asked.

Garrick cleared his throat, “Pieder is, umm, trying to help. How are you feeling?”

“Freezing. Go back to kissing me. That felt warmer.”

“I don’t need help,” he grumbled, pulling Blythe back into the kiss. He teased with his tongue then pressed passed Blythe’s lips and felt coldness. He pulled back. “Blythe?” Blythe gave a shiver and his teeth began to chatter. “Pieder?”

“A lot of ghosts went through him,” Pieder said. “He is very cold, and you are thinking too much when you should be making him warm.”

Garrick paused, surprised at the bluish tinge to Blythe’s lips. Then he felt Pieder’s lips kiss his cock and his tongue trace over its head. “Damn.” He pulled Blythe to him and cradled him while he kissed him as deeply as he could. Pieder bore down on him, and he went hard. The air grew warmer with an energy that seemed to surround the three of them. That had happened before with Blythe, but this time the energy seemed to be coming from him and flowing into Blythe. He held Blythe, kissing him, touching him, letting the heat from his own arousal warm him. He felt himself come, but it wasn’t as important as feeling Blythe grow warm. As falling back against the stones of the kitchen while cuddling Blythe to him. As feeling Blythe fall asleep in his arms.

“You taste good,” Pieder whispered as he wiggled free of the blankets. “Does the human Ri taste as good?”

Garrick judged his reply carefully. “If you do that to me again without permission, Blythe may kill you before you get a chance to find out.”

Pieder’s eyes went wide, but he studied Blythe with a smile. “He will be better now.”

“Will the ghosts do this to him every time they come near him?”

Pieder gave a shrug. “No one calls the ghosts but Blythe. Tonight I could see them go through him and through the wall and he became cold. When you are with him, your energy makes him warm.”

Garrick decided he’d have to be satisfied with that answer. At least for now.

Chapter 28

Garrick woke to the sound of something hitting the stone floor. Oakes stood over him, still holding a bag of supplies. “The lad recovering?”

He nodded and worked his way out from under Blythe, leaving him wrapped in the blankets. Pieder shifted position in his sleep and curled up against him. Pieder hadn’t ventured back under the blankets since Garrick had warned him off, but he’d stayed near. Garrick drew Oakes far enough away not to be overheard. “The fortress?”

“Naught there but the dead. The lad did what he said.” Oakes leaned against the massive kitchen table. “Now if you were Felor and trying to hold off Stephan’s advance, would you keep a fortress armed and supplied out here to guard you from empty woods?”

“The woods aren’t empty.”

“Aye, that’s true. And Felor knows it. Know what I think?”

Garrick raised an eyebrow. He had no doubt that Oakes would enlighten him.

“Whoever built this castle had a good relationship with the fae. That fortress on the other side of the river was built later, when Felor’s father started his conquests, and it was meant to protect this castle, not from the fae, but from the humans.”

“An interesting theory.”

Oakes nodded, caught up in his explanation. “Yep. But whoever they were, Felor won.” He shrugged. “Or rather, someone loyal to him did and took over the castle. With Stephan’s advance, Felor wasn’t going to help protect whoever that was from the fae, so they left, taking everything they could. They kept some troops on the other side of the river, just to make sure the fae stayed on their side.”

“What kind of troops?” Garrick asked, suspecting he wouldn’t be satisfied until he made a trip to the fortress to see for himself.

“A couple dozen soldiers. Crude men from the looks of things. The kind that wouldn’t mind driving a pike through young Pieder there. Or tossing a pointy-eared babe onto a fire. I daresay they got what was coming to them. Those that escaped, well, they’ll spread the story.” Oakes gave Blythe a long look. “I don’t think anyone in the area is going to be interested in coming to investigate.”

Garrick followed his gaze to Blythe’s sleeping form. Pieder was awake now, but he hadn’t left Blythe’s side. “So we don’t need to leave here immediately.”

Oakes shrugged. “No need to rush off before we’ve gotten our rest. You and I will take a good look at the fortress. They left behind plenty of food and even some drink. We’ll restock our supplies and get a couple of hot meals in us. Then we’ll make our way across country.”

“Followed by an army of ghosts.”

Oakes looked around the kitchen as if wondering if he might spot one eavesdropping. “They seem to be quiet during the day.”

“And fatal at night,” Garrick observed.

“So perhaps we travel at night and take our rest during the day. That will give us a chance to stay well hidden. We can’t risk anyone getting a good look at Pieder in daylight.”

Garrick had to admit the plan had merit. They could ride by the light of the moon if they took care, and Blythe needed more time to recover than they’d been giving him. Than he’d been giving him. He had to admit he was the one who’d rushed Blythe out of Stephan’s camp when he’d barely had time to recover from a near hanging and an arrow wound. His fae abilities might help him recover quickly physically, but a young knight often needed time to adjust after leading his men into battle. Blythe hadn’t had time yet to deal with the knowledge that his army had taken men’s lives and that he would ask them to do so again.

“There’s more we should salvage from the fortress?” Garrick asked.

“You want an excuse to have a look,” Oakes said. “Good, because it’ll be best if we drag the bodies out and—

“Bury them?” Garrick questioned. “How big a hole do I have to dig?”

“I was thinking of dumping them in the river. It’s running high now and will carry them well downstream.”

Garrick gave it a thought then nodded. “Confuse anyone who comes to this way. Not a bad idea.” It also would make things easier for anyone that might come back this way after Stephan won the war with Felor. He built up the fire and left Blythe sleeping with Pieder to watching over him.

*

Blythe woke to find Pieder wearing various pieces of clothing in a way that confirmed he had little experience with clothes. He’d pulled his leggings over his arms and wrapped the ripped skirt around his waist. Now he was twirling around the kitchen and waving his arms. Garrick and Oakes were missing. “Where are the others?”

Pieder came to a stop without losing his balance and smiled. “They went to go look at the river. I am taking care of you.”

Blythe chuckled as he sat up. “Are you enjoying your new clothes? Those go on your legs by the way.” He nodded at the leggings.

“I know. But it is fun to do this.” He spun around again waving his arms. “Do humans always wear their clothes like they’re supposed to? Don’t they have fun?”

“You mean play?” Blythe asked. “Yes, sometimes we play. Maybe not enough. What about the fae?”

Pieder dropped to the floor to sit cross-legged. “We have fun. There is the whole forest, and we climb and jump. If I am fast enough, I can catch a bird while I am jumping from the branches. Have you done that?”

Blythe tried to imagine the sight, Pieder swooping a bird out of midair as he leapt among the branches. “I used to do it on the ground,” he said. “Before Kai dragged me off to the war. I would wait quietly for a bird to land near me and then jump and catch it. None of the other boys could do that.” He paused for a moment. “Humans are slower.”

Pieder nodded. “Yes, they are slower than us. Maybe because they are bigger.”

Blythe asked the question he’d been worrying about since he’d met Garrick. “Can we tempt them?”

Pieder tilted his head. “Tempt?”

“Make them do things they don’t want to do.”

“Why would someone do something they do not want to do?” Pieder asked. He gave a little scowl then his face lifted, curious. “You want to make your human do something he does not want to do?”

“No.” Blythe traced invisible designs on the stone floor. “I’m worried that I already did. That he wants to be with me because I have fae abilities that tempt him. Can fae tempt a man that way?”

“Oh.” Pieder’s expression relaxed. “I cannot. Your human doesn’t want to be with me, only with you. I think it is because he likes you, not because you are fae.”

Blythe let his breath out. “Oh, good. I wondered…” He stopped and stared at Pieder. “How do you know you can’t tempt him?”

Pieder began pulling the leggings off his arms. “Because he did not want me to help him when you were cold from the ghosts.”

“Help him?”

Pieder nodded. The leggings were halfway down his arms now, but he seemed to have lost interest in them. “Humans are very silly. You were cold, and he needed to be warmer. It is easier if I help, but he said you would be angry. If it makes you angry, I will not help that way, but he is not tempted because you are fae. He would not have been angry about me helping if fae tempted him.”

Blythe sat, forcing himself to breathe slowly until the information settled in. “When I was cold from the ghosts, I was lying on Garrick.”

“Yes,” Pieder said. “He likes to hold you. He doesn’t like you to be cold.”

So, Pieder hadn’t tried to seduce Garrick when he wasn’t around. It was more like... he remembered being back at Stephan’s camp. The night Garrick kissed him while Stephan sucked on him … more like that . That certainly would have warmed Garrick quickly. And after the night with Stephan, Garrick had been worried he might want to stay with the king. He hadn’t though. His bond with Garrick was too strong for Stephan to sway. And perhaps Garrick’s bond with him was too strong for a wide-eyed fae to break. Now at least he knew it wasn’t just because he was fae and could tempt men. Pieder was waiting, watching him expectantly. “You may not do anything like that with Garrick when I am not there,” he said, carefully. “And you must listen to him if he says no. Do you understand?”

Pieder nodded. “Humans must be asked first. I will remember to ask the Ri of the humans when I meet him if I may try him.”

“Very good,” Blythe agreed, knowing he wanted to be there to see Stephan’s reaction. “I think he will be happy if you ask him that. Now, I want to go look for the others.”

Pieder pulled the leggings off his arms and jumped to his feet. “I will go too. I am helping you.”

Blythe didn’t object and fortunately he didn’t have to go far to find Garrick and Oakes. The two men were returning through the courtyard carrying bags of supplies. “Raided the fortress,” Garrick said, pausing to greet Blythe with a kiss. “Bread’s going stale, but we can soak it in the ale. And there’s cheese. We’re going to feast before we worry about what to do next.”

“We’re not leaving yet?” Blythe asked. He could feel the color rising to his cheeks from that kiss. It had been brief and casual, which made it more special. It wasn’t an invitation to sex. It was just a kiss between lovers who wanted to be together even when they weren’t having sex.

“We’re not leaving until we’re all fit and rested,” Garrick said. “Besides, I have a surprise planned for you.” He kissed him again. “Take Pieder and go look after the horses so I can get everything ready.”

Blythe stood in the courtyard staring after Garrick until Pieder tugged on his arm. “Come with me to see the horses. I made new songs to sing to them.” He let Pieder pull him to the stables.

Chapter 29

Blythe followed Garrick through the castle. “Where are we going?” It wasn’t the tower. He wouldn’t mind visiting the tower again.

“It’s a surprise,” Garrick said. “A new way to warm you since you seem determined to put yourself in danger.”

“I’m a knight now. I’m supposed to put myself in danger.” He didn’t really believe the knight part, but he needed to convince himself. Garrick hadn’t been happy about him attacking the other fortress, but he hadn’t been truly angry. Just concerned. Now he led the way through a large sleeping chamber to a room like none Blythe had ever seen before. A large tub filled with water took up most of the room and a fire blazed against one wall.

“Since we’re no longer likely to be spotted, I thought we might treat ourselves to a fire and a warm bath.”

Blythe stared at the bath. He’d been happy before if the water in the tin tub wasn’t freezing or dirty before he got a chance to use it. Now he was staring at a tub large enough to hold both him and Garrick comfortably. He moved toward it and ran his hand through the water. It was warm. “For us?”

“For us.” Garrick moved close and kissed him. “Remember our first bath?”

He wasn’t likely to forget it. He’d been terrified, hopeful and, well, interested. “You left me on your cot with my hands tied behind my back.”

Garrick chuckled. “You seemed happy to watch me.”

“Mmm.” Blythe grabbed a handful of Garrick’s undertunic and pulled it up. It was all Garrick was wearing. Blythe was already naked. Pieder’s influence was rubbing off on him. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Garrick dropped to his knees and let Blythe strip the undertunic off. He stayed there for a moment letting Blythe enjoy the play of firelight on his bronze skin. Then he moved back to sit on the side of the tub. “I’m curious as to why you didn’t wake me last night rather than running off on your own.”

Blythe took a step closer. He’d known this was coming. “You’re angry.”

Garrick reached out to him and ran a hand down his side from chest to hip, sending shivers wherever he touched. “Do I look angry?”

“No. You look worried.” He paused. “You were very worried when I fell on top of you freezing cold. I scared you.” Garrick nodded. He went on. “They didn’t want to wait. The ghosts, I mean.”

“Ah.” Garrick seemed to consider this. “So what I need to do is to teach you how to command.”

Command? Garrick was always the one who commanded. “I don’t think I’m very good at giving orders.”

Garrick’s face softened with a smile. Blythe waited for him to agree or even contradict him. Instead he held out his hand. “Join me in the bath?”

Blythe stepped over the side of the tub and into the warm water. Garrick pulled him down and into a cuddle. Blythe relaxed, letting the warmth seep into his skin. “No one has ever had to listen to me.” It might have sounded like a complaint, but it was true. He’d spent most of his life trying to remain unheard and unnoticed.

“It’s all about who you give the orders to,” Garrick said, stretching out and settling their hips close together. “It would hardly be efficient for Stephan to run around the battlefield giving every soldier commands. To run an army, you need commanders. So, does this army of ghosts have any commanders?”

Blythe thought about the night before. “The one who woke me. He seems to be leading the group.”

“Good. So we have a leader, and we know the ghosts can follow orders. Now, it is important to remember that you command the leader, he doesn’t command you.”

Blythe knew why he’d let himself be led to do what the ghosts wanted. It had been easier than making that decision himself. “I don’t think I can give orders to kill people.”

Garrick brushed the hair back from his ears to reveal the points. “Last night?” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want Blythe to have to think about it.

“They didn’t need me to tell them what to do. They just needed me to get them there.” He shivered a little, but not from the cold. How many people had they killed ? Garrick and Oakes had been to the fortress so they probably knew. He didn’t want to ask.

Garrick responded to the shiver by pulling him so he was sitting between his muscular thighs and leaning back against his broad chest. “And that worries you. Though we’re safer for it. What about telling them when not to kill?”

Blythe let himself relax against Garrick. He could feel the beat of his heart now. “I can do that. Somehow it doesn’t seem the same.” It was a lot easier to say not to kill someone, but that didn’t win wars.

Garrick kissed the back of his neck. Blythe bent forward a bit and heard Garrick’s breath catch. After a moment, Garrick asked another question. “The village that chased us when we were on our way here. Would you want the ghosts to kill them?”

Blythe raised his head. “Of course not. They weren’t bad, only frightened.” He understood that type of fear. He’d lived with it long enough.

“That’s an important distinction to make. Opposing forces are a threat. Frightened villagers aren’t. You have an army willing to kill. Your job is to know when to hold them back.”

“That sounds too easy.” But that was what Garrick had done with him, wasn’t it? He’d simply stopped King Stephan from executing him.

Garrick laughed. “Let’s hope it always is. It’s the reason I follow Stephan, not Felor.”

“Stephan had me hanged.” He waited for Garrick’s reaction to this. “And ordered you to execute me.”

Garrick kissed his neck again. “As if I would have put a blade through this.”

“What if I hadn’t had pointy-ears?” He’d wondered about that. Were his ears the only reason he was alive now? They were certainly the only reason King Stephan had let him live. He would always remember the golden-haired king pulling out an executioner’s sword and ordering him beheaded. If he hadn’t had pointed ears, would Garrick have forced him to kneel with his head bowed and brought that sharp blade down on his neck?

“Hmm.” Garrick seemed momentarily distracted by his neck in other ways. Ways that were making kneeling before him seem tempting . “We wouldn’t be out here hunting for the fae, which would be a shame.” Garrick ran a finger over the point of one ear. “I would have let Stephan yell at me long enough to get it out of his system. Then I would have quietly reminded my king that my troops had captured that fortress and I was entitled to my share of the spoils. If he wasn’t prepared to accept that, I would take my pretty blond captive and my troops and leave.” He kissed the tip of the ear.

Blythe’s breath caught. “You would have done that for me?” Garrick wanted him. Not just the part of him that had pointed ears, but all of him. He needed to know that.

“Now I would give my life for you.” Garrick paused, as if thinking about his answer. “But then, that first day, I would have done it for myself. I have my pride. Young Derry might have been able to manipulate Stephan, but he overstepped himself when he tried to involve me.”

“Stephan was an idiot,” Blythe muttered.

Garrick chuckled. “Stephan was thinking with the wrong head.”

“What?” Blythe caught the meaning and laughed.

“Not that I can blame him,” Garrick said. “I suffer from the same problem. Will you forgive me for treating you like a conquest?”

Blythe felt a blush rising. “I didn’t mind being conquered.”

“That is something I’m glad to hear, because I’m feeling a great need to do it again.” Garrick returned to kissing the back of his neck, and the arms that enclosed him loosened so that he could bend with the kisses. As he bent forward. Garrick gave a little moan that pleased him, and Blythe realized what Garrick wanted. He shifted so he was on his knees and heard Garrick’s breath quicken.

“Can you move to the edge?” Garrick asked.

“And bend myself over?”

“Please.”

The sound of desire in Garrick’s voice excited him. He moved to the wide edge of the tub so he could support himself against while Garrick positioned him. If felt odd, facing out into the warmth of the room’s fireplace while listening to Garrick’s splashes in the tub as he prepared them both for lovemaking. Until now when he’d taken Garrick into him, he’d determined the timing and set the rhythm. Now he was giving himself to Garrick, fully and willingly. Garrick’s hands lifted his thighs and his strong, sword-calloused fingers ran between Blythe’s buttocks. He enjoyed the feel of their roughness against his skin and tensed in anticipation.

“Relax, Blythe. We have plenty of time, and I will make sure we’re both well satisfied,” Garrick’s deep voice said from behind and above him.

“I like the feel of you touching me. I want you inside me,” he breathed.

Garrick chuckled and ran a finger along his crack. The finger found his hole and slowly circled, making him drop his shoulders and raise his buttocks in anticipation. He felt the finger pressing in past the tight ring of muscle.

“That feels good.” He felt some of the tension flow out of him. He knew what to expect now and the feeling of Garrick’s fingers working to loosen him brought about arousal rather than anxiety. He wanted Garrick to stretch him. To push into him.

“Grease,” Garrick said. “It’s useful in water. Do you want more of me?”

“Yes.”

“Just yes?” Garrick asked. His voice held a tone of correction but his fingers were making it hard for Blythe to concentrate.

“Yes. Please.” He’d beg if he had to. Did knights beg? Would Garrick make him?

Garrick chuckled, his fingers moving in and out, teasing Blythe. “Yes, please, Sir Garrick.”

He raised his hips as the fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. “Oh, yes, please, Sir Garrick.”

The fingers left him and both of Garrick’s hands cupped his buttocks, lifting them. “Since you asked so nicely. Gods, I’ve wanted you like this, beautiful and waiting for me.” He paused. “With no one to interrupt or watch. Do you know how glad I am that you want me, Blythe?”

“I think you need to show me, Sir Garrick.”

“Do I, young Sir Blythe? Then I suggest you brace yourself because I’m about to drive my point home.”

Blythe heard the water splash behind him and held his breath. He felt the head of Garrick’s cock positioned against him. “Let out your breath, Blythe.”

He exhaled as Garrick pushed, hard and fast this time. There was a moment of tightness that made Blythe grasp the edge of the tub and groan, then Garrick was inside him. He’d never been taken like that, deep and fast. And Garrick’s hands held his hips so he couldn’t move to adjust his position but had to accept all of Garrick’s length. “Oh, gods. Please.”

“Please, what?” Garrick asked.

“I don’t know. Just please.”

That brought about a chuckle. “I can be a hard task master, Blythe.” Garrick pulled back until he was nearly out of him. “Very hard.” He shoved again, pushing deep.

Blythe pushed forward with the movement and water sloshed over the side of the tub. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of Garrick inside him. He felt Garrick’s length draw back and braced himself, know what was coming. Garrick shoved again and this time he heard a sigh as if Garrick were releasing something built up long inside him. Something that could only be released by shoving ball-deep into a lover. Blythe tilted himself slightly, giving into Garrick’s need and his rough pounding. He could be that lover. The one who accepted all of Garrick. The rough, calloused sword-worn warrior and the gentle caring companion. The worried Garrick who’d been frightened and angry when he’d put himself in danger. The loving Garrick who kissed and warmed him by the fireside.

Garrick grabbed his hips and this time when he moved forward, he tugged Blythe back towards him. Blythe relaxed his grip on the tub as Garrick settled back on his heels. Now Blythe was nearly sitting on him while Garrick nuzzled at his neck. “As if he could have made me put a sword through this.”

Blythe smiled to himself, knowing some of what Garrick had released. Stephan could never have given of himself, fully and completely, but it was what Garrick needed. To love and be loved. Blythe raised up slightly and brought himself back down on Garrick’s cock. He heard Garrick breathe in and out with the movement. He did it again, timing his breath to Garrick’s and feeling the energy that moved between them. He set the rhythm now, taking Garrick in deeper than he had before and feeling himself fill with Garrick’s need.

Water surged back and forth in the tub, punctuating their movements. After a moment, Garrick’s hand came around to circle Blythe’s shaft. Blythe’s world became nothing more than Garrick in him and Garrick’s hand stroking him. He found himself grunting each time he raised and lowered himself onto Garrick’s thick shaft. He wanted to think of nothing but the feel of him, his strength, his roughness, his love. He wanted nothing more than to live in that moment. Until he teetered on the edge of release.

“Garrick, I want you to make me come.” He shifted position again, kneeling and bracing himself against the side of the tub.

“Yes, please, Sir Blythe,” Garrick moaned. The water splashed as he moved to kneel behind Blythe and took his hips in his rough hands, tilting them until Blythe was where he wanted him. He thrust deep and fast, setting the pace like a man galloping to war. Blythe moaned with the ferocity of it, but his body knew his need. He gasped for air as Garrick pumped faster.  He could feel the air buzzing with their energy as Garrick shuddered and came. Then Garrick turned him around and lifted him to the edge of the tub. Blythe tangled his fingers in Garrick’s hair as the knight knelt before him to take his throbbing cock into his mouth. Garrick took him in deeply and sucked hard. Blythe moaned, his knees tightening against Garrick’s shoulders. Garrick’s hands clutched his thighs and he sucked again.

Blythe tilted his head back, pulling in the warm air of the room. Garrick’s hands moved underneath his buttocks, supporting him and lifting him as he drew him in deeply and sucked him to ecstasy. Blythe came and for a moment, he floated in Garrick’s strong hands and his own joy. Then, with a splash, he was back in the tub and lying across Garrick’s spent body.

The water washed them clean as Garrick’s arms went around him. “How do you feel? I was rough.”

Blythe gave a deep sigh. “I liked it. My whole body has been filled with you.”

“Is that a good feeling?”

Blythe twisted to kiss him. “The best. I wish we could stay here like this forever. Let’s send Oakes off to deliver Pieder to Stephan, and we’ll stay here.”

Garrick laughed. “One day, my love. One day.”

Blythe floated in the tub until he heard Garrick’s voice again. This time it held a different tone. “What do you think of Pieder?”

Blythe shrugged. He didn’t want to talk about Pieder. Or Oakes. Or anyone. “He’s young and cheerful. He’s good with horses. Stephan will love him.”

“And you? How do you feel about your young squire?”

So that was the real question. Garrick wondered if he’d been tempted by Pieder. He opened his eyes so he could see Garrick and smiled slyly. “Don’t worry. Pieder is right about one thing.”

Garrick raised his eyebrows.

“Human men are big and fun to try.”

“Hmm.” Garrick wrapped his arms around him. “I’ll have to find ways to keep you reminded of that.”

Chapter 30

By the next morning the rain had lifted, and once again gifts had been left for them by the castle gates. Garrick gathered the rabbits while Blythe helped himself to a handful of berries. “How long do you think they’ll keep feeding us?”

Garrick gave him a sidelong glance. “Interesting question. You’ve eliminated at least one threat to them.”

“They might think that if I stayed here, I could hold off other threats,” he offered, testing out the idea.

“What do you think?”

The question was a challenge. He looked up at the sky. “So far the ghosts haven’t shown themselves during daylight. If they can only attack at night, they’re somewhat limited as defensive troops.”

“Good point.” Garrick gave him an approving nod. “Keep in mind that living men aren’t at their best at night, so your ghosts have value as offensive troops, as you’ve shown.”

Blythe looked around the castle walls. He’d grown fond of them. This was the first place he’d felt safe since childhood. But that wasn’t enough. “Keeping the ghosts here won’t help. We have to get them to Stephan. Soon.” There wouldn’t be any true freedom for any of them until the war between Stephan and Felor was settled.

“We have today to rest and to pack,” Garrick said. “We’ll leave at dusk. We’ll have to avoid any villages along our way. Pieder is too obvious. I’m not sure if people will be able see the ghosts. That could cause panic.”

“I don’t think people can see them in daylight. But they’ll be able to follow us more easily at night. And they need me for rivers and things. Like they did with the fortress. They can’t make the journey alone or they’d already have killed Felor.”

Garrick hmmed. “Perhaps they’re what’s kept Felor from clearing the forests and taking out the rest of the fae. Because I can’t see Pieder and his friends keeping a determined force at bay. But if those troops had to deal with ghosts every time they crossed the river,” he shrugged, “I doubt they be eager to remain when night fell.”

“We’ll be taking them away,” he said, suddenly worried. “Though the fae seemed to expect that.”

“Not all of them. Besides, Stephan has Felor too busy for him to stage an attack on the forests, and when we get there, he’ll be even busier.”

Blythe didn’t disagree. He just wished he knew how he was supposed to lead an army of ghosts across the land and into battle. He’d have to hope that the ghosts knew.

*

The rain had cleared by evening, and they left when the sun hung low in the sky. The ghosts knew it was time. He wasn’t sure if his thoughts had told them or if the ghosts had been watching and waiting. Maybe this was why they’d insisted on attacking the fortress, so Blythe could lead them to attack Felor. He could feel them assembling in the courtyard, though they were only visible in the deepest shadows.

He sat as far forward in the saddle as he could because Pieder sat behind him. Fortunately even together they didn’t take up any more room than a single bulky soldier in chainmail and leather padding, so there was room for both of them. He wished it was Garrick sitting behind him. That thought sent a little blush to his cheeks and had him smiling.

“Do I have to wear this?” Pieder swung an arm beside him, an oversized brown cloak Oakes had found in the fortress flopping along its length. “My clothes are pretty colors. Why must I cover them with this brown thing?”

“You may take it off until we get past the river and the fortress,” Blythe said, knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he didn’t give in. “But you must wear it after that and whenever humans might see us.” He’d been thinking through possible reasons since Oakes had told Pieder to wear the cloak. Pieder didn’t seem worried about being spotted as being fae. “I don’t want the human Ri to know how pretty you are until he can see you for himself. As Ri, he should see you first.”

Pieder was silent for a bit, obviously considering this. “Will he like my hat?” he finally chirped.

“Yes. He will like your hat.”

“Why?”

“Because it shows your ears off, lad,” Oakes’ gruff voice sounded beside them. “Are those troops of yours ready to follow us, Blythe?”

“They’re ready.”

“Then best we’re on our way.” Oakes urged Sunny toward the courtyard gate, and Blythe followed him.

This time Garrick brought up the rear. Or almost brought up the rear. When Blythe looked back, he could see shadows shift in the courtyard as the ghosts fell in line behind him. Then they were out of the courtyard and on their way. He gave a last look at the castle as they crossed the bridge. Somehow he’d find a way to return.

They crossed unchallenged, riding quickly to take advantage of the waning light. As they passed the fortress, Blythe looked at the section of wall he had clung to and knew that something in him had changed. Perhaps something that had been changing for a while.

Travel at night would be slower, but safer. If anyone attacked, the ghost army could defend them. He wondered if the ghosts might prove to be even more useful. They’d once been alive. They’d known about the soldiers in the fortress, so they must have experience watching humans. He just needed to learn how to take advantage of that.

Full darkness had fallen when Garrick signaled a rest. Blythe slid off of Risk and left Pieder to take care of the horses. He could sense the ghosts gathering at the edge of his vision. He stepped a little away from the others, and the one he thought of as the commander approached. “We need to rest. Can you set a guard and let me know if anyone approaches?”

The commander nodded and returned to the ghosts. Blythe saw shadows move around them as they spread outward, forming a guard for the camp. Then some rose upward, far enough to see what lay ahead.

“Smart move, lad,” Oakes said. “Can they plot us a path that will keep us clear of any more fortresses Felor might have out here? Or any innocent villages that would best not see us?”

“Do you think they can lead when we ride out?” Garrick asked. “Or do you have to go ahead of them?”

Blythe looked from one to the other. They were asking him, not telling him. He only hoped he knew the answer. “They should be able to lead provided we stay close enough, but I have to go first if we cross water.”

Garrick nodded. “It’ll make the journey easier. We’ll rest and be on our way when the horses have had a good graze.”

Before they rode again, Blythe gave instructions to the commander. He was pleasantly surprised to see some of the ghosts move ahead then stop, waiting for them to mount their horses. They followed the ghosts, once changing routes and moving away from what seemed to be an old cart track. Blythe wasn’t sure if they were skirting past a village or another group of Felor’s men, but he was glad his army was proving useful. Garrick halted them before sunrise when their ghostly guides were becoming nearly invisible. They saw to the horses before their own comfort, but soon Blythe was ready to stretch out on the ground and get what sleep he could.

“We best set a guard,” Oakes said. “A living one.”

Blythe groaned.

“I’ll take first watch,” Garrick said.

“Nah, let me,” Oakes said. “I’ve promised to teach Pieder how to use a slingshot and with any luck, we’ll have some rabbits cooking before you two sleepyheads wake up.”

Blythe heard Garrick’s chuckle and didn’t ask how a man with only one arm used a slingshot. When he turned, Garrick was spreading a blanket on the ground. He held a hand out. “Just sleep. We don’t want to alert any passing humans.”

Blythe joined him. “I think I’m too tired for anything else.”

They slept together like spoons—Blythe’s back pressed against Garrick’s hard chest—and woke to the smell of roasting rabbit.

“Eat what you want,” Oakes said waving a portion at them. “Pieder’s a deft aim with a slingshot.”

Blythe accepted his share hungrily but gave Pieder a cautious look. He didn’t want to be outdone by his squire too often. Then again, waking to find food waiting for him was a nice change. Maybe it was good to be able to hunt but not to have to do all the hunting.

He pulled off a portion of rabbit and settled with his back against a tree. While he ate, Oakes spread a couple of blankets on the ground and settled down, pulling a third blanket over his broad back. Pieder dropped out of the tree and gave Blythe a smile. Then he curled up, pressed against Oakes’ back and fell asleep.

“Do you think Oakes minds?” Blythe whispered as Garrick took a seat next to him. He nodded at the sleeping figures.

Garrick smiled. “No. And right now, Pieder is probably safest if he sticks close to Oakes.”

Blythe sighed. “Oakes is probably glad Pieder’s less trouble than I am. He’s not always worried he’s going to do something wrong.”

“Less trouble?” Garrick turned to him looking confused. “Less trouble? The little idiot has no idea what’s dangerous and what isn’t. I don’t know what would get him killed first, asking to try an unfriendly guard or trying to climb up the inside of a chimney to see what humans keep there.”

“Oh.” Blythe stared at the sleeping figure. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

Garrick draped an arm around his shoulders. “Blythe, you’ve survived. Your natural sense of worry helps keep you alive. I like that. I don’t need you to be Pieder.”

Blythe cuddle up to him. “Good, because I don’t think I’m going to stop worrying anytime soon.”

*

Pieder woke before it was time to ride. Garrick let him hunt for rabbits but soon realized he needed something else to keep him occupied while dinner cooked. He tossed Blythe his short sword and held Oakes’ short sword out to Pieder. “Blythe needs to practice his fighting skills. You’re welcome to join him.”

Pieder eyed the sword eagerly. “We will fight each other?”

“Not with these,” Garrick said. “These you will use to practice your stances and get used to swinging their weight.”

“Ah,” Pieder took the sword and swung it with both hands, sending himself whirling in a circle. “This is fun.”

Garrick decided that ordering Pieder to stop wasn’t going to accomplish much, so he turned his attention to Blythe. “Roof.”

Blythe slid smoothly into the stance. Pieder stopped spinning and looked up. “There is no roof.”

“Plow.” Blythe’s sword moved downward. “Fool.” He dropped the sword tip down to pass in front of his foot. Pieder took up the same position, facing Blythe. Garrick nodded but didn’t comment. “Ox.” As Blythe’s blade moved upward, Pieder followed him. Garrick continued giving commands. Oakes sat up, his eyes on the action.

Pieder soon had the positions memorized and was flowing smoothly from one to the other. But what caught Garrick’s attention was Blythe. He moved more elegantly now, his posture smoothing to match Pieder’s easy stance. Blythe had only seen humans wield swords. None of them had any idea how the fae handled weapons. That was something Garrick was curious about. He got to his feet, holding out the sticks. “Give me the swords and take these.”

When the swap was completed, he used the tip of his sword to draw a fair-sized circle on the ground. “Now I want to see how you handle swords against an opponent. Take your positions in the circle.”

“We hit each other?” Pieder asked, waving his stick as he stepped into the circle.

“You try to stop me from hitting you,” Blythe said, joining him. “And I try to stop you.”

“Oh.” Pieder’s stick moved smoothly and unexpectedly in Blythe’s direction.

Garrick wanted to object that he hadn’t given the order to start yet, but Blythe easily blocked Pieder’s move before swinging low at the other’s legs. Pieder laughed, leaping to the edge of the circle then yelling “roof” as he brought his stick down where Blythe had been. Blythe swung upward from two paces away only to be blocked by Pieder’s downswing.

“Don’t gape, lad. They’d be somewhat slower if you burdened them with the weight of a longsword.”

Garrick didn’t take his eyes off the blur of competition in front of him. “I thought I was fast with a sword. I’ve more than a decade of practice and they’d have taken me out by the second swing.”

Oakes grunted his agreement. “If you have to fight either of them, I recommend knocking the sword out of their hands with your first swing. You’ve got strength and muscle on your side.”

“And Blythe has speed,” he mused as Blythe jumped over a low swipe by Pieder. “I’ve been training him wrong. I’ve taught him to move like a bulky human fighter.”

“You’re hardly bulky, lad. You’re fast enough with a sword. You’ve proven that. You just aren’t that fast.” He nodded at the two swinging their swords.

Pieder whirled around Blythe yelling “roof, ox, plow, this is fun!”

“Am I dragging a child to war to make Stephan happy?” Garrick asked. It would have been more sensible to send Pieder back the forest. And to send Blythe with him. He could come back and find him after Stephan’s war was over.

“Neither is a child,” Oakes said. “The fae lad is likely older than you think. Blythe too. Full fae don’t age like you and I.”

“According to Blythe, you might be more like him than like me,” he offered cautiously.

Oakes chuckled. “Noticed that, did he? Had a great-grandfather with pointed ears. Wouldn’t have minded younguns with them. But that was long ago. Don’t be fooled by foolishness, Garrick. Do you think it just coincidence that Pieder led us to the one place where Blythe could learn to use his army?”

“So the youthfulness is an act?”

“The lad’s like he seems, but he’s crafty. He could be anywhere between your age and Stephan’s. You aren’t leading an innocent to slaughter. He’s following to keep an eye on Blythe.”

Garrick watched the sword practice for a moment more. Something else Oakes had said tugged at him. “How old do you think Blythe is?”

“Past his teens. Early twenties. Still younger than you. What, did you think I was going to tell you that you’d chosen a lover my age?”

“It wouldn’t matter if I had.” He smiled at himself for his sudden concern. He’d never worried about Stephan’s age. Now that he thought about it, it would have been impossible for Blythe to have concealed himself among Felor’s troops for much longer than he had, particularly if he wasn’t aging normally.

Pieder suddenly launched into a backflip, his sword stick slicing the air around him. “Foolish. Pieder,” Oakes bellowed. “You’d have taken your own foot off if that had been a real sword.”

Pieder shot him a grin, and Blythe’s stick slashed downward. Pieder caught it with his hand just a breath away from his head. “This is fun, but I think the humans are letting the rabbits burn.”

Garrick rushed to save their dinner. He heard Oakes ordering Pieder to clean both swords while he examined the meat. “Just a little on the crispy side,” he announced. “We’ll eat then be on our way.”

Chapter 31

Two days later Oakes woke them from sleep. “We’ve got company, lads.”

Blythe sat up. It was too light for the ghosts to be seen, and the campsite was quiet with the horses grazing nearby. He noticed that Oakes had put out the fire and piled dirt on it to keep it from smoking.

Garrick looked around the field they were camping it. It was as empty as it had been when they set camp that morning. “Where?” he asked.

Oakes nodded to Pieder. “The lad says he can hear them.”

Then Blythe heard the sounds in the distance. Wagons, horses, men’s voices carried on the wind. “So can I. Sounds like an army. Can’t you hear them?”

“We don’t have your ears, lad,” Oakes said. He pointed across the field in the direction of the noise. “Pieder says they’re moving along one side of us.”

“Why didn’t the ghosts tell us?” Blythe asked. “They should have seen them last night.”

“Likely they weren’t in our path last night.” Oakes drew a sketch in the dirt. “We’re moving to the north and west. Likely the army is coming from further west and moving north and east.” He drew a line to intersect their line like a Y.

“You haven’t had a look at them yet?” Garrick asked.

“Not and leave the lot of you sleeping. We’ve plenty of time to decide what to do because right now we’re best not moving.”

“What if they spot us?” Blythe asked. Suddenly their position felt very open and vulnerable. Why had they stopped here in the middle of nowhere ? He knew the answer. They’d relied too much on his ghosts and been reassured because they hadn’t seen anyone yet during their travels. There was a line of trees ahead of them, but he had trouble keeping track of the ghosts in the trees, so they’d camped in the field. They were lucky Pieder had heard the army before it was any closer.

“They may have scouts out before them,” Oakes said. “But we’re behind a bit and to their side. They’ll pass us by.”

“Unless they stop to make camp,” Garrick said. “Then they’ll set patrols. The day is getting late, so they might be thinking that way. It’ll be best if we’re not in the area when that happens.”

Blythe sat back on his haunches and stared at the map Oakes had drawn. The army had come from a different direction, but it was headed the same way they were. They could ride around it at night, if they kept their distance. Was that the right decision? “They’re heading where we’re going,” he mused. “Which means they’re reinforcements for Felor’s army.”

Garrick studied Oakes’ sketch as if comparing it against a map he held in his head. “How many reinforcements? I need to get a look at them. If they’re a large enough force, they might hem Stephan in between them and Felor.”

“Not if we stop them,” Blythe said. The two men turned to stare at him. “Right now we’re four travelers. When night falls, we’ll be an army.”

“If we manage to avoid them until then.” Oakes sounded thoughtful. “Shouldn’t be that difficult. The patrols won’t ride too far out if they don’t have to. That stand of trees over there would offer some cover.”

“Before we decide,” Garrick said. “I want to see how many there are. Blythe, how big a force can your ghosts take on?”

“I don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “I think it takes them time to, um, kill each person.” He didn’t like thinking about what the ghosts would do, but if Stephan lost his war, what Felor would do to him would be worse. Death wasn’t the worse threat a man could face.

Behind him Risk let out a snicker, his ears turning toward the sound of the moving army. “Best move the horses to the trees,” Oakes said. “We don’t want anyone hearing them.”

“I’ll go,” Blythe said. It would give him a chance to move out of Garrick’s sight. He picked up his sword as he moved, hoping no one would ask him why. Garrick would check out the army for size, but he needed to see who he was going to kill. These men were riding to Felor’s aid, but he’d been raised in the west. These might be men he knew. Boys he’d once played with. Not that Kai had let him play with many boys. If he knew them, he wasn’t sure how he was going to give the order to kill them. Except, he didn’t think the men he’d been raised around would hesitate to kill him.

“I’ll go too,” Pieder said. “I will sing them a song about being quiet.”

Garrick gave Pieder a questioning look, but didn’t object. That worked to Blythe’s plans. Pieder he could control. Besides the comment had distracted Garrick from the sword.

He led Djinn and Sunny, and let Pieder lead Risk since the horse was most familiar with him. When Blythe had them settled in the shade, he turned to Pieder. “I’m going to check out the army.”

Pieder frowned and looked back to where the others waited. “You do not want your lover to know?”

“Pieder.” He put some weight in his tone.

Pieder smiled. “I will sing the horses a very long song to make them nap before I go back.”

Blythe let out a breath of relief and gave Pieder a smile before loping off along the tree line. Once he was out of sight of the camp, he took off over the nearest hill, keeping low and hugging bits of brush. Soon he spotted the army. He was too far away to recognize faces, but he could make out the color of the banners of the mounted men.

These men had come from farther west than where Kai had raised him. They were also stopping to set up camp. The day was further gone than he’d realized, and the few hundred men below him wouldn’t want to set up tents, cook dinner and graze the horses in the dark. They weren’t rushing to Felor’s aid, but they were moving steadily. A western lord with fresh conscripts for the war. He wouldn’t have to kill them all, he thought. Just those in control. The rest of the men would be happy to flee back to their homes.

He turned, ready to slip back and tell Garrick his plans when he spotted the riders. Three of them, fully armed and heading right towards him. Guards for the camp. If he ran now, they’d spot him. If he waited, they’d spot him shortly. There was no way to escape, but he might brazen through long enough to survive. He pulled apart his braids and tugged his hair over his ears. The next he regretted the most. He unbelted the sword Garrick had given him and hid it under the bushes. With luck, he’d be able to retrieve it later. Then he stood and walked straight toward the riders.

They stopped and drew up in their saddles, hands going to swords. Then they got a better look at him and relaxed. “Out for a stroll, lad?” the lead rider called.

“Going to fight for the king,” he called back, adding a tone of eagerness to his voice. “My pa wouldn’t let me so I ran away. I’m old enough now to fight.” He was close enough to see the riders smile at his response.

“Then today’s your lucky day, lad. We’ll take you right to the army and get you started.”

He smiled obligingly. “I thought you were soldiers. Do I get a sword? And a horse?” he asked and saw the men trade glances.

“Not right away. Those you earn. Ever kill a man, lad?”

He shook his head, looking worried. “I can kill pigs. Did that on the farm.”

“Well, sometimes it’s about the same thing,” a rider said. He rode close and reached out. “Take my hand, and I’ll pull you up. Ever been on a horse?”

Blythe shrugged. “We have a donkey to pull the plow.” He took the man’s hand and let himself be pulled up behind him. He could tell by the looks they exchanged that the group was happy to have such a willing conscript. Now he just had to hope the others stayed hidden until night fell.

*

Garrick looked up as Pieder strode back to them. He looked behind the fae, expecting to see a familiar form. “Blythe need to stay with the horses?”

“No,” Pieder said lightly. “He went to go look at the army.”

Garrick shot to his feet. “What? When?”

“When I was singing to the horses.”

Oakes stopped his lunge, though Pieder was no longer where he’d been a second ago. “Easy, lad. He’s just gone to take a look.”

Garrick glared at Pieder. “Didn’t you think to keep him safe?”

“He will be safe,” Pieder said. “He has an army.”

Garrick lunged again, but the bulk of Oakes was between him and Pieder. “Now, lads, no need to fight. Why don’t we go look for the lad?”

Garrick seethed with anger, but Oakes was right, they needed to find Blythe. He grabbed his sword and strapped it on, noticing that Pieder kept Oakes between them. Scanning the supplies, he realized Blythe had taken his own sword. He’d been practicing regularly with Pieder and would be able to hold his own against an average soldier. But they weren’t facing an average soldier. They were facing an army.

“We’ll probably find him on his way back,” Oakes said as they headed in the direction of the troops. “I wouldn’t worry over much.”

But that wasn’t how they found him. Pieder was the first to spot the riders. He pointed and when Garrick saw, his hand went to his sword. Blythe had been captured.

Oakes put a hand on his shoulder. “Wait.”

“There are only three of them.”

“And almost three of us, if you don’t mind that one of us has one arm. Look at the lad. Blythe isn’t bound.”

Garrick looked again. Blythe was waving one of his arms toward something and bouncing badly on his perch, as if he were about to fall off. One of the men riding behind him was laughing at the sight. Garrick shook his head in confusion. “What’s he doing?” Blythe looked perfectly happy to be where he was, but the men would likely kill him the moment they discovered his pointed ears.

“I think,” Oakes said slowly, “that he’s just been drafted into Felor’s army.”

“But his ears.”

“He’s got his hair over them. He’s also not wearing his sword. Those riders aren’t expecting to find a fae wandering the countryside. Whatever Blythe did, he’s convinced them that he’s harmless. Likely between now and nightfall, he’ll be kept busy with chores. All he has to do is keep safe.”

Garrick took a deep breath and let it out. Oakes was right. Nightfall would change everything. “If they take a close look, he may not live that long.”

“It’s only a few hours, lad,” Oakes said. “He’s lived this long. He’ll manage a few more hours.”

Garrick crouched, preparing to follow the riders. “I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

“Yes, you will.” Oakes told him. “If those riders hadn’t found Blythe, they might have circled further out and found us. They’ll hardly believe you’re an innocent farmer out for a stroll. Being alone saved Blythe’s life and may have saved the rest of us. Getting yourself killed won’t help. We’re going back to where Pieder and Blythe left the horses until we know those ghosts of his are on the move.”

Garrick wanted to object, but he knew Oakes was right. Any attempt to rescue Blythe would get him killed. Which he would gladly have risked, except in two hours or so, Blythe’s army would accomplish what he couldn’t. He let himself be led back to their camp, which they quickly covered up, and then into the trees.

Chapter 32

They hadn’t let him stray past the perimeter of the camp or let him near any weapons, but they’d kept him busy with chores. The tunics he was scrubbing were stained, but not with blood. For all their bragging, he’d probably seen more battles than his captors. Now it was nearly dark, and they’d soon have a different sort of battle on their hands. He stood, stretching his back as he wrung out a tunic, and a rough hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around.

He stared into a broad, angry face. “Wanna show us your ears?” Blythe took a step back. The man lashed out with a beefy hand and sent him sprawling to the ground. “You can’t hide the eyebrows.” The man looked out at the gathering soldiers. “Fools, didn’t they check him before they brought him here? He’ll murder us in our sleep.”

Blythe took a quick look around, assessing his chance of escape. There were too many men, and they’d gone from bored to suspicious. He took a breath and let it out, seeking for ghostly aid and hoping it was dark enough. The air behind the big man seemed to waver, and Blythe could just make out a shape. The one he’d come to think of as the captain of the ghosts was struggling to form in the waning light. He needed time. Denial wasn’t going to work. The big man would simply grab him and pull his hair back to show the ears. He stared up at his accuser. “Not me. I’m no danger to you. But my army is.”

Laughter rose from the scattered observers. “The lad has an army.”

“Show us the ears,” another demanded.

They wouldn’t kill him. Not immediately . They didn’t think he was a threat, and they’d want to torment him. Perhaps even take him to Felor. He reached up and pulled back his hair. A murmur went around the group.

“Who brought him into camp without checking?” someone demanded.

“Never seen a fae before.”

“What can one fae do?”

“If there’s one, there’s more of the vermin.”

“Well, now we know they’re around, and we’ve already caught one of them. He doesn’t look dangerous.”

Blythe sat, listening as the accusations spread and sounds of surprise and anger reached his ears. No, they wouldn’t kill him, not just yet. He scooched backward, as if trying to get away from them. He wanted to be as far from the fire as possible, not that they’d been willing to share its warmth with him. He could see the ghost captain forming in the gathering darkness but the flickering of the fire and the lingering twilight weren’t helping. He moved back a bit more and sent a silent plea of help to the ghost.

“Damn fae.” The big man who’d thrown him to the ground reached down and grabbed him by his tunic, pulling him halfway to his feet. “Where are the others?”

The ghostly figure steadied itself and stepped closer. “Behind you,” Blythe whispered.

The man’s face contorted, moving from rage to fear as the ghost moved into him. He stumbled, dropping Blythe and flailing his arms to fight off the invisible foe. Blythe tried to scuttle away, but the man’s fear-widened eyes found him. He lurched for him, trapping him against the ground as his rough hands closed around Blythe’s throat, cutting off his air.

Blythe struggled to draw breath. The man could easily have strangled him, but his hands were shaking as his lips turned blue. Blythe’s fingers found the man’s thumbs, and he pried them away from his throat enough to take a breath. The man was shivering now, unable to control his muscles as his body gave into the freezing temperature. Then the hands on Blythe’s throat grew slack, and the man pitched forward, his dead weight landing across Blythe.

Someone grabbed the man and tried to move the bulky body. “The fae’s killed him!” The body lifted a few inches before it dropped down on top of him again. “Help me, you useless bastards,” the man called. “We need to kill the fae.”

Blythe tried not to panic. Trapped under the big man’s body, he couldn’t do anything to defend himself, but that body, and the confusion of the watching men, was proving to be his best protection. He heard a gasp as one of the ghosts attacked the man pulling at the body. Then a few screams. Some of the men realized what the first had, that Blythe was somehow at the center of the attack. They tried to get at him, but their companion’s bulk worked against them, shielding Blythe long enough for his army to render them unconscious. They fell across the first man, adding their weight to the burden on Blythe.

Blythe lay under the dead men and struggled for breath against the press of weight on his chest. He could hear screams of fear as the shades took hold of the army around him and the sounds of horses galloping away as those who could grabbed the nearest mounts. He knew the others would break camp and run. His ghosts would still kill those they could. But it would take a long time for the men to die, and he needed to breathe long enough to for the others to find him in the dark under an army of dead.

*

Garrick rose in his saddle and looked across the army below them. Campfires burned and showed unmoving bodies. There should be at least one living person. One slight figure standing in that field of death. “Where is Blythe?” The wind stirred beside him. One of the ghosts perhaps, but he had no way of talking to shadows. “Oakes?” He needed reassurance from someone.

“The lad’s there. We’ll find him.” Grimly, Oakes nudged Sunny forward.

Alive , thought Garrick. He had to be alive. Abandoning caution, he galloped Djinn into the silent camp. He could hear Oakes and Pieder behind him. Hopefully the fae lad had learned enough horse craft to ride Risk because Garrick didn’t have time to worry about him falling off. He held up his hand for the others to stop. When all was silent he shouted “Blythe!” He waited, hearing only the wind.

He heard soft hoof beats as Risk moved forward. Pieder stood, feet on the saddle, surveying the field. Risk moved slowly, as if following some sort of order Garrick couldn’t hear. Pieder barely swayed. Garrick was tempted to try the same maneuver on Djinn, though he doubted he could keep his balance. He knew what Pieder was looking for. A slim, blond body lying still on the ground. If Blythe still lived, he would have found them.

“There.” Pieder pointed, dropping back to the saddle.

Garrick looked in the direction he’d indicated and could see nothing that looked like Blythe. But he followed the fae as he rode toward the far side of the camp. Then Pieder was off Risk and tugging at a pile of bulky men on the ground. Garrick gaped at the sight as he reined Djinn to a stop. Four men who had all been focused enough on the same thing to fall on top of one another when the ghosts took them. What would have been more important than life ?

He was off his horse and pulling the bodies away from what lay below. Soon he dragged a gasping Blythe into his arms and sank to his knees, holding him. He was alive . Thank the gods. He’d somehow come through this alive.

“I told you the lad would survive,” Oakes said, relief sounding in his voice.

Garrick lifted Blythe into his arms and looked around. He spotted a nearby tent with a banner that looked like it belonged to someone of consequence. A campfire burned nearby. He carried Blythe over to it, thankful that the bodies were less numerous near the tent. He sat Blythe on a camp stool in front of the fire and ducked inside the tent to pull blankets from a cot. A jug sat beside the cot. He opened it and sniffed. Strong brandy. Outside he wrapped Blythe in the blankets and held the brandy to his lips. “Drink. It’ll help.” He knelt beside him, steadying the jug as Blythe drank.

A voice came from above him. “You make a good squire, lad.”

He looked up to catch Oakes’ wink. “I always did.”

Oakes was on Sunny while Pieder, riding Risk, had led Djinn to him. “We’re going to look around, Pieder and I, and see what we can find that’s useful. You see to the lad and get him back to camp when you can. Being around here can’t do him much good.”

“You and Pieder collect everything from camp,” Garrick said. “We’re riding out of here as soon as we can. Pieder can stay on Risk, and I’ll take Blythe on Djinn with me.”

“Think the lad’s ready to ride?” Oakes sounded doubtful.

“‘m fine,” Blythe muttered. “Just squashed.”

Oakes nodded and headed off with Pieder in his wake.

“Without Pieder’s help, it might have taken us hours to find you,” Garrick said. He wanted to pull the blankets off and check for injuries, but Blythe was still shivering.

“The big one figured out I was fae. When the ghosts attacked, he tried to kill me to stop them. The others couldn’t reach me after he fell on me, but it was hard to breathe.” He stopped, shivered then took a deep breath. “I can ride in a minute or two.”

Not likely , Garrick thought. Not unaided . “Take your time.” He looked around, searching for someplace safe for Blythe to rest. “Oakes and Pieder will be gone for a time, but I think we’ve discovered whoever was leading the troops. Or at least his tent.”

“He’s there.” Blythe pointed.

Garrick turned. The man Blythe was pointing to had grey hair and a slight build, but he was dressed more richly than the other bodies. It only took a moment to search him and pull him out of sight. He wore an ornate dagger that hadn’t saved him and a heavy gold ring set with a ruby that caught the light of the fire. Garrick took both, handing them to Blythe. “Spoils of war. Where is your sword?”

“Up the hill. Hid it. They’d have been suspicious of a lad like me wandering around with a sword.”

“Oakes figured out what you were up to,” Garrick agreed. “He practically had to sit on top of me to keep me from running to rescue you.”

Blythe smiled and pulled the blanket tighter. “I want to get my sword back before we leave.”

Garrick rose and looked around the field of fallen men. Anyone surveying the site from a distance might think the men were sleeping around the fires that dotted the camp. He doubted those who’d escaped would be eager to return. They’d be safest where they were for the moment. A fire away from the camp would be noticed. “I’ll send Pieder to find your sword as soon as he’s back.” He didn’t want to leave Blythe alone and staring at the dead. He ducked into the tent and found another blanket and a heavy cloak. He spread the blanket on the ground near the fire and sat down. He held his hand out to Blythe “Come. We’ll stay here in front of the fire together until you warm up.” Blythe joined him quickly enough and Garrick wrapped him in his arms. “You aren’t shivering as much as you did last time.”

“This time they didn’t have to go through me. I could still feel their cold, but not like it was inside me. I couldn’t tell them who to kill and who not to kill.”

“That’s hard to do in the middle of a battle.”

“I hoped the farmers would run away as soon as the ghosts took care of the real soldiers.”

“I think they did,” Garrick reassured him. “The real soldiers would have been guarding the outer part of the camp to prevent defections. That’s where most of the bodies are.” He wanted to give Blythe any comfort he could, but fortunately he didn’t have to lie. The ghosts seemed to have had a good instinct about who to attack. Blythe had learned something else about controlling them. And Garrick had learned, well, he was learning to trust Blythe not to get himself killed.

Chapter 33

They rode out of the camp while it was still night. Pieder rode Risk, and Blythe found himself seated in front of Garrick on Djinn. The last time he’d ridden this way, he’d been dropped half-strangled from a wall and hadn’t known it was safe to enjoy the experience. Now, he leaned back against Garrick’s hard muscles and accepted the support his arm offered.

He was glad to get away from all the death, but they were riding toward more. He wanted this to end. If he could convince Garrick to ride back to the forest with him, they could live with the fae. Or in the castle. The ghost army would protect them. At least at night. But there would be a war just past their borders until Stephan defeated Felor. If he helped end that war, maybe they could find peace. He’d have Garrick and Pieder would keep Stephan happy.

“How are you feeling?” Garrick asked.

“I don’t think I like war.”

Garrick chuckled. “Who does?”

“Stephan?”

Garrick gave a grunt of agreement.

“You?” He’d been wondering about that. He wanted the war to end but did Garrick ?

He felt Garrick’s muscles tense. After a moment, they relaxed, and he kissed the tip of one of Blythe’s ears. “It’s what I know. I was made to serve a king. But perhaps I want a different life. Do you think I could learn to be a farmer?”

“I can’t imagine Djinn pulling a plow.” Farmers didn’t have stallions like Djinn. They didn’t have squires. But they didn’t have to fight wars. Unless Felor forced them too.

“No, I’ll have to retire Djinn to a field with his choice of mares,” Garrick said. “He’ll sire foals worthy of a king.”

“Which king?” Blythe asked. “Because we might have to survive on cabbages from the farm.”

Garrick laughed. “Stephan owes me enough in battle spoils to keep us in cabbages.” His tone changed, becoming more pensive. “But I’m not sure he’ll know what to do with himself after he wins the war with Felor.”

Blythe looked back at Pieder. He had one idea of what Stephan would be doing. Garrick could claim his battle spoils . He hadn’t thought about that. If Stephan defeated Felor, then all of Felor’s noble lords would lose their land and Stephan would reward Garrick. He’d just have to make sure that Stephan won.

They rode through the night, and well into the morning, making sure they kept their distance from any villages. Pieder was wearing clothes from the troops they’d left behind, including a hooded cloak. Blythe had one too, but he’d left the hood down. Too many of them riding covered by hoods would look suspicious on a sunny day. Even though they avoided the villages, there was a chance they would run into some of the men who’d escaped from the slaughter of the army. But if those who’d run away had come in this direction, they kept their distance.

*

Two days later they crept up a hill and lay low beneath some bushes. The walls of a castle rose from a hill ahead of them. Beneath the walls and just out of arrow range, Stephan’s army had set up camp.

Blythe knew that if the troops they’d left behind had continued their march, they would have come up on Stephan’s flank and given him two battles to fight. It might have turned the tide, but for now, Stephan had the advantage.

“I knew Stephan would find him,” Garrick said.

Blythe didn’t answer. They’d found Stephan. They’d caught up with the war, but fighting a siege was a long process. They could spend weeks, even months, waiting for Stephan to breach Felor’s walls. He knew Garrick wouldn’t leave until the war was won. He wouldn’t desert his king. Blythe didn’t want to wait. He had an army that could move through walls. He could break the siege. He’d been making plans while they rode, and he wanted to have them in place before night fell. “I have a plan.”

“Send the ghosts to attack Felor’s men,” Garrick said.

“Right.” The parts Garrick didn’t know wouldn’t worry him . “Like I did with the fort near the river. I can do it tonight.”

“We need time,” Garrick said. “We need to meet with Stephan before we put any plans in place.”

“Tonight,” Blythe insisted, trying to figure out how to convince Garrick.

“The lad has a point,” Oakes said, making Blythe turn to stare at him in surprise. “Stephan’s army has had plenty of time to rest and will be eager to attack. They’ll be somewhat less eager to wait a few days knowing there’s an army of ghosts behind them.”

Garrick grunted and continued to study the scene. “It’ll be dangerous to approach the walls. We’ll need troops to protect Blythe.”

“That’ll make it more dangerous,” Blythe said. “Felor’s men will spot the troops and do everything they can to keep them from the wall. Will Stephan’s troops stay near me when the ghosts start to move through me?” He asked, following Oakes’ lead with the ghost idea.

“Do you have to go to the wall?” Garrick asked. “There’s no river in the way. Can you send them from here?”

He didn’t know the answer, but it didn’t matter. He already had his plans. Garrick didn’t have to know that. “Possibly. I might have to get a little closer. Stephan needs to know to attack tonight after the sun goes down. I don’t think the ghosts can kill everyone in the castle, but they can keep the men on the walls busy while Stephan’s troops scale them.”

“Oakes can ride into camp and let Stephan know.” Garrick’s remark was decisive.

Blythe cast out another excuse. “Will he listen to Oakes? We need someone who will make sure he doesn’t attack too early or too late. And we can’t let him learn about Pieder yet or he’ll be too distracted to attack tonight.”

Oakes gave a grunt. “Garrick, if I go, Stephan is going to insist on riding out to meet you. If you go, you’ll be able to keep him to the plan. He listens to you.”

Blythe held his breath. Oakes was going along with his idea . He hadn’t expected that and he wasn’t sure why, but it would make it easier to convince Garrick.

“I don’t want Blythe near the walls when Stephan’s men attack.”

The remark was directed at Oakes and for a moment, Blythe didn’t mind lying to Garrick. He’d never be able to convince Garrick to let him do what he needed to do. “I won’t be near the walls. Or the gates,” he said. If his planned worked, that wouldn’t be a lie. He wouldn’t be near them, he’d be inside them. “I need you to make sure that Stephan’s men attack as soon as night falls. Once they’re in, I don’t have to worry as much about the ghosts.”

“And you’ll retreat as far away as possible,” Garrick said. “Someplace where Oakes and Pieder can safely build a fire. I don’t want you lying frozen in the path of mounted troops.” He looked to Oakes. “I want you to drag him away if you have to.”

Oakes nodded. “I’ll look after the lad.”

Garrick still looked doubtful, like he wanted to drag Blythe onto Djinn and ride as far away from the battle as possible. He wouldn’t have objected to that, but the realization that the troops his army had stopped could have helped Felor defeat Stephan made him even more determined. He wasn’t going to run from this war. He was going to end it . He smiled at Garrick and kissed him. “I’ll be safe.”

He watched Garrick mount Djinn and ride toward Stephan’s camp, knowing that what he planned to do could easily get him or even Oakes killed. If they survived, Garrick would be angry, but the war would be over.

*

As soon as he neared the camp, the patrols recognized him and pointed him toward the king. Garrick rode through groups of men cleaning weapons and practicing at sword play. The camp was well disciplined but the men were eager for action. Oakes was right. Attacking tonight was the best plan. No army was going to be comfortable knowing an army of ghosts was waiting just beyond their campfires.

Stephan’s standard waved proudly over a large tent, and Stephan paced outside like a caged lion. He stopped when he saw Garrick. “You’re back.”

Garrick dismounted Djinn and tossed the reins to a waiting squire. “I am.”

“And the lad?”

“Safe for the moment.”

Stephan considered him. “Damn it, Garrick, I’m not going to take him away because you failed to find more fae.” He paused. “Did you find more fae?”

Garrick felt himself losing patience. Blythe was right. Pieder would have been a distraction. “Are you more interested in a pointy-eared companion or getting into that fortress? I take it that’s where Felor has holed up.”

“Yes, and if you offer either of the two options, I’m interested.” Stephan nodded toward the fortress. “I shouldn’t have sent you off on a fool’s errand. This is where I need your leadership. You’ve accomplished miracles before. Get me into that castle.”

So Stephan wanted to taste victory before he tasted anything else. Or at least he would as long as he didn’t see Pieder until after he’d won the war. “Blythe can get you in, but you’ll have to do exactly as I tell you.”

“Blythe? The lad?” Stephan brightened. “Of course. He was with Felor. He knows about an unguarded entrance?”

“Not exactly.” He might as well tell Stephan the truth. There was no subtle way to explain what they were going to ask him to do. “We’ve returned with some pointy-eared companions. Half-fae, like Blythe. They are unfortunately ghosts.”

Stephan stared at him then repeated the word as if that would somehow change the meaning. “Ghosts?”

“Yes. The ghosts of those burned under Felor’s orders.” He held up a hand to stop any questions. “I’ve seen their abilities. Walls are no barrier to them, but daylight is. You must be ready to attack when night falls. The ghosts will take out the defenders inside the wall allowing us to breach their defenses.”

“Ghosts?”

Stephan wasn’t objecting. He was just confused. Well, Garrick had to admit, he’d had longer to adjust to the idea than Stephan. “Yes. Ghosts. They can freeze a man to death. Appropriate considering they died by fire.”

Stephan stared for a minute longer then shook his head as if to clear it. “Damn it, Garrick, you’ve come up with some insane ways to break a fortress before but this is the first time you’ve suggested ghosts.”

Chapter 34

Oakes studied the outfit Blythe had donned. “You’re sure about this lad?”

Blythe adjusted a rip in the tunic to be more obvious. “We need to get into the fortress. The ghosts can take down the guards, but they can’t open the gates. You can do that. I just have to convince them to let us in.”

“You’re sure you can do that?” Oakes wasn’t objecting, at least not too strongly, but he did have questions.

Blythe held up the ring taken from the dead nobleman in the army they’d conquered. “I have proof that we come bearing news from their expected reinforcements. We escaped, you and I, and have come as quickly as we could.”

“A young squire and a man with one arm.”

“Which is why they’ll let us in,” Blythe said. “After all, no one expects danger from a man with one arm.”

Oakes chuckled. “You learn well.”

“You’ll do it? You’ll go with me?”

Oakes unbelted his sword and let it fall to the ground. “If I let you get killed, Garrick will have my head, so I might as well let Felor’s men have a go at it first. This foolish plan might work. Drop your sword though, lad. They won’t take you to Felor wearing it.”

Blythe unbuckled his sword and placed it on top of his saddlebag. He pulled out the jeweled dagger Garrick had handed him after...after the army was dead . Spoils of war, Garrick had said, as if Blythe had earned it by being squashed under a pile of the enemy. He still felt uncertain that he deserved it, even though he’d been the one to lead the ghost army into the camp.

He’d learned from that. His army would follow him, and he could do more damage from inside an enemy camp. He showed Oakes the dagger. “They’ll let me keep this. Proof that my poor lord was slaughtered by Stephan’s men.” He slipped the dagger into his belt.

Oakes nodded. “You’re a smart lad. They may not think it too dangerous, a pretty thing like that. You won’t have the reach of a sword if it comes to a fight, but you have speed on your side. Remember that, lad. You’re faster than any man you’ll come up against. That’s why Garrick hasn’t been sparring with you. Pieder was the only one to match your speed.”

Blythe stared, surprised. Garrick had made him and Pieder practice on their journey, but he hadn’t realized why. He’d thought, well, that Garrick didn’t find him much of a challenge when it came to sword play. Or maybe that Garrick was worried about hurting him. He hadn’t thought that he was better than Garrick. Or at least faster. Garrick was stronger. He knew that. But if he was faster than Garrick, he’d be faster than Felor. He gave Oakes a nod. “We also have the ghosts.”

“Yes, but they take time to kill a man, and you might have to react quickly.” Oakes stuck a heavy meat knife into his belt. “What about Pieder?”

“He’ll stay here and guard the horses. We can’t allow anyone to see him until the battle is won.” He turned to Pieder. “Do you hear, Pieder? Stay hidden until Oakes, Garrick or I come for you. If we lose the battle, take Risk and ride back to the forest. Felor’s men will kill you as soon as they see you.”

Pieder nodded. “You will not lose.”

Blythe hoped not.

*

The sun was setting when Blythe climbed the hill and waited for Stephan’s patrols to pass. The king hadn’t managed to completely surround the castle. There were gaps in the line, places loosely patrolled. It wasn’t hard for him and Oakes to slip through the guards that patrolled the area. Blythe could see archers high on the castle walls training their arrows on them as they approached a small door set in the side wall. Blythe raised his empty hands and Oakes raised an arm and what was left of the other. No arrows flew their way. When they reached the door, it opened. Not cautiously to interview them before they entered, but quickly to allow them to be dragged inside and the door slammed and barred behind them. Four armed men faced them, weapons drawn

“Who are you?” one demanded.

“We were attacked,” Blythe said breathlessly. “All of us.”

“Attacked? Of course you were attacked. There’s a war going on, my lad.”

“I must get word to King Felor. My master commanded it.” He grabbed frantically at the man’s arm and flashed the ring. “He sent me with his ring as proof. Please, I must hurry.”

Oakes hand landed heavily on his shoulder and pulled him back. “Calm, lad, be calm.” He grunted. “He’s been this way since the battle. Don’t think he’s recovered yet.”

“What battle?” the guard asked with more urgency.

“Please. I must deliver word to King Felor. I gave my word.” He made a show of struggling against Oakes’ grasp. “I have his ring. He was coming to help. Most of them ran away, but I said I’d bring word. Please.” A fighting man like this would have little patience for a frantic squire and would be glad to pass the problem along to someone else.

“Best take us to the king,” Oakes said. “He needs to hear the lad’s tale.”

The man gave them both a look and waved to a couple of the men. “Take the lad to King Felor.” His gaze returned to Oakes. “You can share your story with us.” The tone wasn’t wary. Men were gathering around Oakes as if he were one of them. They had the look of men expecting a good tale.

Blythe allowed himself to be led away. So far, the plan was working. He’d gotten them in the castle. When the ghosts took out the men around Oakes, he’d be able to get to that side door. He’d soon find Stephan’s troops and direct them inside.

Chapter 35

Blythe was led through to the main keep and down a long corridor. They’d brought him in through a side door. He didn’t rank the main door, but then he doubted his guards did either. Kai hadn’t trained him for battle, but he’d prepared him for lords and castles. Despite the turns of the corridors, he knew he was being led toward the front of the castle keep. The narrow stairway had been built for servants and twisted its way up three floors above the main level.

He could feel the ghosts beginning to take shape around him and knew it was growing dark out. He sent a message for silence and thought again about them taking out the men around Oakes. That part still made him feel uneasy, consigning men to their death. But he thought about Garrick having to fight his way through those same armed guards. He would do anything to protect Garrick, and this was better than throwing his sword at random attackers.

His guards opened another door, and they stepped out of the stairway into a well-lit corridor. Torches blazed from sconces in the wall, and he felt the ghosts shrink back from the light.

He didn’t have time for more than a frantic thought before the door the guards tapped on opened and he was thrust into a room ablaze with torches and candlelight. Too much light . He hadn’t counted on that. The presence of the ghosts faded. He didn’t think he’d ever been anywhere with this many candles. They illuminated the maps strewn across the table and glittered off the gold and jewels of the crown in the middle of it. The squire who had opened the door retreated to a corner, ready to serve Felor’s needs.

Felor was there. Blythe knew him immediately. He had none of Stephan’s brawn and brightness but stood tall and lean with a long face set in a frown. “Yes?” The tone was imperious. He stepped from behind the table and looked down on him with curious eyes. “Why am I being disturbed?”

“I bring word, sire. For you alone.” He held out the ring, hoping it would mean something to Felor. He needed to get rid of the guards and hopefully the squire.

Felor dismissed the guards with a wave. He ignored his squire who stayed quietly in his corner. Before Blythe could think of a way to suggest he get rid him, Felor spoke again. “I’ve seen you before.”

Blythe met his gaze and knew he hadn’t been recognized yet, but Felor would place him soon enough. He’d have to do this with both Felor and the squire in the room and no help from his ghosts. He could feel the weight of the dagger at his hip. The guards hadn’t even thought about it when bringing him to Felor. He dropped the ring beside the crown on the table. “The reinforcements you expect won’t be coming.”

Felor tilted his head, confused. “Are you here to tell me what happened to them?”

Blythe moved his hand to the dagger. He could see the squire out of the corner of his eye. He was smirking. He’d seen that look on too many squires. It meant they thought themselves better than him. This one probably expected Felor to backhand him and order him dragged away. He drew himself up. “My army destroyed them.”

“Your army?” Felor’s gaze raked over him. “You don’t have an army. You’re a squire. I remember you. You were squire to one of my knights. A minor one. What was his name?”

“Kai,” Blythe said. “He fostered me after your men destroyed my village. A village you won’t remember because you destroyed so many.”

“And you’re angry about that.” Felor sighed, as if challenged to explain something simple to one too stupid to understand. “The fae must be destroyed. They are dangerous. They will be destroyed.”

“Why.” He couldn’t resist the question. Would Felor tell him anything he didn’t already know? They tempt men . He’d heard that often enough.

Felor picked up the ring and turned it over in his thin fingers. He addressed his remarks to it. “They tempt us. They corrupt us. They’re dangerous.”

“Do I tempt you?”

Felor looked back to him, eyebrows raised. “You? You’re a dirty, common squire. Why would you tempt me? But you must be destroyed. Kept away from those who are weakest.”

Blythe looked at Felor as if for the first time. They tempt men. That was what Blythe had always heard. But Felor said “they tempt us.”

“Like my mother was tempted?”

Felor nodded, pleased at his idiot student. “Now, you understand. She was tempted and created you. It’s wrong. If she hadn’t been tempted...”

“They tempt men too.”

“Yes, of course,” Felor tossed the argument aside. “Weak men. I have no use for such men, but they don’t create abominations.”

“You aren’t tempted by the fae,” Blythe said, realization dawning. Felor was a slender man, though he stood taller than Blythe. Sometimes the ear points didn’t show. Not after a couple of generations . “Because you wouldn’t be. Not you.” His gaze fell on the crown and the pieces fell together. “No, not a man. A queen. And it doesn’t matter how far back, does it Felor? Because it means the same thing. If a son was born to a human queen who took a fae lover, then he would be the son of the fae, not the king’s heir.” Blythe’s voice rose with the excitement of the realization. “You’re descended from a bastard. Your line doesn’t run true. You should never have become king.”

Felor stepped forward, hand raised to slap him. He wasn’t worthy of battle, but just an upstart squire to be slapped around then dragged to a dungeon and hanged for treason and burned for being fae. No, Felor wouldn’t wait for that. He couldn’t. Blythe knew the truth and so now did the squire. He could see the dawning realization on the lad’s face. Blythe dodged under Felor’s raised arm and pulled the jeweled dagger from his belt.

Felor whirled, putting the table between them. “My sword!”

The stunned squire started for Felor’s sword. Blythe rushed at him and the lad had second thoughts. He dashed to the door and pulled it open. He ran out, yelling for help. Blythe had to make a quick decision. He slammed the door and barred it, a move that kept the guards out but gave Felor time to reach his sword.

Blythe turned from the door in time to dodge the weapon coming at him. All he had was the dagger. But he had speed, and if Oakes was right, that might be enough. Though if Felor had fae blood, he would also be fast. Blythe twisted lithely to one side as the sword came at him again. He needed to make it around the table to Felor. He couldn’t reach him over it. He dashed to one side, carefully judging Felor’s speed. Fast, but not equal to Pieder. His training might serve him well.

Without the table between them, Felor had more room to swing. The sword came at Blythe in a low arch. He leapt over it and managed to lunge close enough to prick Felor’s forearm with his blade before the sword began to swing in his direction again. He danced away, smiling. The sword was moving back toward him. He stepped back out of its way, watching Felor’s teeth clench as he tried to turn the swing into a lunge. The man only needed to get in one good move to end the fight, but a pounding on the door threw off his move.

“Sire! Sire! Unbar the door!”

Blythe dashed to put himself between Felor and the door. If Felor let his guards in he’d soon lose the battle. “They’ll know you’re a bastard now. The squire will tell.”

“He hasn’t yet,” Felor hissed. “And many men die in battles. Even squires.”

So Felor would kill the lad too. All to keep his secret. “The fae know, don’t they,” he said, trying to distract the man. “They could tell I was fae. They would know you are. So you’re getting rid of them all. Like your father did.”

The pounding on the door increased. “Sire, the walls have been breached. Someone opened the gates.”

Felor cursed and lunged at Blythe. Blythe moved aside of the man’s longer blade. “Your father was the bastard. How did it happen? How did a fae lover find a queen?”

“She went traveling,” He struggled to steady his voice. “My weak, foolish grandmother. A castle near the forest. Oh, she’d heard it was beautiful. Beautiful,” he spat out the word. “He found her there, my thrice damned fae ancestor. My grandfather should have killed her and the babe, but he was weak. Said he couldn’t bring himself to destroy the innocent. And the ears weren’t obvious. Then my father was the only living son. A fae bastard but a human king. The fae asked for his allegiance.” Felor laughed. “My father wasn’t a weak man. He destroyed them. A single battle wiped out those who knew.”

“Sire, unbar the door!”

Felor tried to reach it, but Blythe swiped at his unguarded torso and forced him away from his waiting rescue. Felor returned the move with a sword swing driven more by anger than by skill. Blythe grabbed a candle stick and threw it at him.

“Fool!” Felor leapt back as the flame threatened his robe. The candle landed on bare stone and the flame died. “You’ll kill us all.”

“If I’m able,” Blythe said. “King Stephan’s army is outside, and you have no escape.” If he killed Felor, he could climb out the window. They were three floors up, but the stone would leave handholds. The men outside would be too busy fighting Stephan’s troops to worry about him.

Suddenly the pounding on the door stopped and was replaced by a single heavy thud. The door shook, and there was another thud. A battering ram. They’d found something to use as a battering ram. Felor smiled and lunged at him. Dodging the blade forced him away from the door. He stepped back further, leaving a path for Felor to reach the now shaking door.

Felor swung at him to keep him back, but his attention was divided between Blythe and the door. It was all Blythe needed. As Felor’s hand reached for the heavy bar, Blythe dashed forward, his dagger slipping between the king’s ribs. Blythe jumped back as Felor slid heavily to the floor, blood staining his robes. Blythe watched until Felor’s head dropped to his chest. He could see the ears. They bore no points. He thought he’d feel joy at the man’s death. But that didn’t come. Just a feeling of relief.

Another thud shook the door. He still had to get out of the chamber. Felor’s men would burst through at any moment, and he doubted they’d let him live. He considered the window. He could hear shouting men and the clang of weapons even through the closed shutters. The battle had drawn closer. His ghosts had done their work and might still be doing it, but there were too many men for them to kill alone. Somewhere out there, Garrick was fighting Felor’s men.

He needed something more than a dagger to defend himself... Felor’s sword. As his gaze moved in that direction, a glint from the table stopped him. Why just take his sword when the crown was sitting there waiting to be picked up? Why should the fighting continue when the king was dead? He strode across the room and grabbed Felor’s sword. Then he set the crown on own his head.

He opened the shutters and stood on the wide window sill. There was enough light from the room behind him for everyone to see the gleam of gold in the night.

*

A cry went up from the fighting and echoed through the courtyard. Garrick deflected a poorly aimed swing and sent his opponent sprawling. He whirled Djinn looking for the next opponent, but men fell back, pointing. He looked up, in the direction the cheers were coming from.

Blythe stood in a window in the center of the castle, a sword in his hand and his blond hair gleaming in the light of the candles behind him. And on his head. Garrick nearly dropped his sword. A crown? Felor’s crown? How?

Blythe plucked the crown from his head. He held it for a moment for the cheering crowd to see. Then he sent it flying into the night. A figure not far from the window rose in his saddle, sword extended, and caught the crown on his blade. Stephan.

Stephan’s men cheered. Felor’s men looked around the courtyard uncertainly. Was the battle was over? Had Stephan won? He had the crown. Calls rang out for Felor’s men to throw down their weapons, but Garrick’s eyes were on Blythe. He saw him look back into the room and toss the sword away. Then he jumped from the window, twisting and catching hold of the ledge as he fell. He scrambled down a few feet just as an armed figure appeared in the window. The figure looked out into the night and the courtyard below.

“The king? Where’s the king?” someone called out.

The soldier looked over his shoulder then wordlessly back at the crowd. Men waited for Felor to appear at the window.

Garrick didn’t wait. He urged Djinn through the crowd and toward the castle wall. Blythe had once killed his prison guard. His army had taken out a small fortress. He wouldn’t have taken that crown unless he’d taken care of Felor first. Garrick needed to get him down off that wall and away to safety before one of Felor’s men thought to put an arrow through him

Men moved out of his way, their attention on the window or Stephan. Then he was beside the wall and reaching up to help Blythe into his saddle. He settled him in front and wrapped an arm around him. “I thought you were going to stay outside the castle.”

“I killed Felor.” Blythe sounded numb.

“So I gather. I’m getting you away from here. We’ll let Stephan take care of cleaning up what’s left of the battle.” Stephan might actually prefer it that way. He’d want to celebrate claiming his new crown without facing the slim squire who’d taken it for him. But it was more fitting, Garrick thought, that Felor had met his fate at the blade of a half-fae knight after all he’d done.

Blythe nodded. “I don’t know what to feel.”

Feel? He set Djinn’s path back through the courtyard. There was no battle lust in Blythe. He’d killed because he had to. He’d ended a war that had lasted for years when all he really wanted to do was retreat somewhere quiet and safe.

*

He got Blythe back to the campsite where Pieder had a fire going. Dismounting quickly, he helped him off of Djinn. Pieder moved to take care of the horse while Garrick gathered Blythe in his arms and lowered him to the nest of blankets Pieder had created. “What do you need from me?”

“I killed him,” Blythe muttered in response. “With the dagger. I just wanted the war to be over so Stephan wouldn’t need you and everything wouldn’t be about battles and killing people. But the only way to stop it was to kill him.”

That was why Blythe had, against all reason, gone into Felor’s castle where nothing but death should have awaited him. All he’d needed to do was get Stephan through the gates, and Felor’s army would have fallen. Men would have been killed, but Blythe would have been safe. He, not Blythe, would have been in the thick of battle. He was made for battle. Trained for it. He held Blythe and realized that was what worried him. He was made to serve his king and fight his battles, not to be a quiet farmer with a half-fae lover. He needed to change that. He kissed Blythe, slowly and completely. “I love you.”

He felt Blythe’s muscles relax. “I thought you’d be angry.”

“I thought I’d be angry too,” he said. “But I understand and because of that, I can’t be angry.”

“He was part fae.”

“Who?” Garrick struggled to find a meaning in the words. “Felor?”

Blythe nodded. “From his grandfather. That was the secret he and his father killed to keep.”

Garrick held Blythe and looked out into the darkness of the night. Damn, if Stephan hadn’t been right. Felor feared the fae. They could have brought down his reign. Not with weapons but with words. An accusation whispered into the right ears would have given half of Felor’s nobles a reason to take down their king.

“I think I need you to hold me,” Blythe muttered.

“I can do that.” He wrapped Blythe in his arms. Pieder brought them water and some of the food still left from the journey. Blythe didn’t seem interested in the food, but Garrick managed to get him to eat a few bites before he drifted off to sleep.

*

Oakes, still mounted on Sunny, woke him as dawn was breaking. “King Stephan is yelling for you. Best go to him before he sends a search party.”

Garrick yawned, shifting Blythe off of him. Blythe muttered and fell back asleep on the pile of blankets. Garrick blinked sleepily at Oakes. Had the man been up with the troops the entire night ? He probably had. He shouldn’t have expected Oakes to stay quietly and safely in camp any more than Blythe. Oakes had wanted Felor dead as badly as Blythe. “Don’t tell me he’s angry?”

“He’s a bit perplexed about how to handle the situation. Story going around is that all the fae that Felor killed rose up as ghosts to destroy him.”

“Can’t say that’s wrong.”

“And Felor was killed by a young fae lad he had executed weeks ago who then tossed the crown to Stephan before vanishing into the darkness.”

Garrick chuckled. It wasn’t far from the truth.

“To further confuse matters, some of the men are swearing they saw King Stephan execute the lad.”

“No doubt some of them remember him. An execution adds to the story and isn’t far from the truth. Stephan isn’t planning on hanging everyone from the castle walls, is he?” Blythe had ended the battle sooner than expected, which meant there would be a number of Felor’s troops still alive.

“You think the new king of the two lands confides in me?” Oakes shook his head. “Go find that out for yourself, lad. Mind you, a fair number of them have no love for the fae. Ghosts or not.”

“Probably to be expected. Keep the lads safe. And by safe, I mean don’t escort them into the midst of the enemy’s troops.” He paused, regarding Oakes’ grim expression. “Did you become my man simply so you could find your revenge on Felor?”

Oakes rubbed his gray stubbled chin. “You were the best commander I’d seen in a long time but too foolish to accept the help of a squire. You needed me, and I figured when you won the Westlands, I’d be there. But the lad,” he nodded at Blythe, “he had the right to do what he did.”

Garrick stood looking down at Blythe’s sleeping form. “He might have been killed.”

“But he wasn’t, lad. He wasn’t. Stephan, well, he might not be too happy about certain things.”

Garrick nodded. “I’ll go check on my king.”

Chapter 36

Blythe woke to the smell of bacon. He sat up and looked around. Pieder was half-dressed in a way that suggested he’d been half dressed for some time. Garrick was missing, but Blythe remembered him leaving earlier. Garrick was safe. He didn’t have to worry. Oakes was cooking, and he was hungry. “That smells good.”

“Bread’s more than a day old,” Oakes grumbled. “Managed to find us a jug of ale. We’ll get better supplies once we settle back into the camp, but I figured it was best to keep you two lads here for now.”

“We’ll be going back to the camp?” Of course Garrick would expect that. Stephan was his king. He’d already gone to answer his call. Blythe was just, well, he wasn’t his squire. He wasn’t sure what he was.

Pieder stopped playing with his leggings, and looked at him. “Did you win the war?” Blythe nodded. He had. Not Stephan, him. “Good,” Pieder said. “Now you can take your lover and go back to your castle to be the Ri.”

Pieder’s view of the human world was naive. Perhaps his was too. After all, he’d hoped Garrick would want to return to the castle with him, not go back to dancing attendance on Stephan. “I’m not a Ri, Pieder. Far from it.”

“Don’t see why not,” Oakes said, surprising him. “You just won Stephan’s war for him. Not that the king will be overly happy with you stealing some of his glory. But you aren’t one of his subjects, so you don’t owe him anything.” He put some bacon on a stale slab of bread and passed it to him. “Have some breakfast, your majesty.”

Blythe took the food, careful not to dribble hot grease on himself. He’d eaten a lot worse than this. “I was Garrick’s squire,” he pointed out. “Wouldn’t that make me one of Stephan’s men?”

“No,” Pieder said. “Our Ri made you his knight, so you would not owe allegiance to the humans when your army won the war.”

“I thought he just disapproved of humans,” Blythe said before taking a bite of his breakfast. Certainly the fae Ri hadn’t planned for anything like this? Except the fae had tried something like this before, hadn’t they. A half-fae child to create an alliance. And it had nearly destroyed them. “Pieder,” he phrased the question carefully. “Does your Ri know who my father was?”

Pieder shrugged. “I think you came from too far away and too many were killed. But you are Ri. He knew that when you heard the call of the dead. And when you lay with your lover, we felt your joy. It was very good.”

“I need to figure out how to stop that from happening,” Blythe mused between another bite of food.

“Stop?” Pieder’s voice rang with shock. “You must not stop! It is what a Ri does!”

Blythe swallowed and stared at him. “A Ri lets everyone feel what he feels when he’s having sex?”

Pieder nodded enthusiastically. “Not just then, but it is good when you are with your lover. A Ri and his Banrion are part of the people and the land. If they are happy, everyone is happy.” He tilted his head. “You don’t have a Banrion, but Garrick is a good lover for you. He makes you very happy.”

Blythe’s head was spinning. He was Ri because of what happened when he was with Garrick? That was supposed to happen? He hadn’t tempted Garrick because he was fae, but he was meant to be with Garrick. What happened between him and Garrick did so because he was a Ri? He never meant to be a Ri. Just to end the war. But ending wars was something kings did .

Pieder must have read the confusion in his expression. He spoke slowly, as if to a child. “The lands on the fae side of the river must not be ruled by humans again, but the fae do not need a castle. You raised your army and conquered the king, so now they are your lands. You are their Ri. You have a human lover who makes you very happy. That is good because fae and humans can be happy together again.”

“But Garrick—” How would Garrick take this ? Would Garrick want to be with him if he was a Ri and Garrick was, well, his consort ? “Garrick won’t like this.”

“What makes you think that, lad?” Oakes asked. “I’d say to trust Garrick to know what Garrick wants.”

“He’s used to being the one in command.”

“Lad,” Oakes began in his best lecturing voice, “we’ve been traveling so you may not realize this, but he has troops to command. Not Stephan’s men. His men. He wasn’t interested in you because he needed to boss around a skinny, blond squire.”

Blythe felt a smile tug at his lips. “Sometimes he forgets not to be the boss.”

Oakes chuckled. “Granted. But trust him, lad. He’s not going to march off with King Stephan and leave you behind. If he does, I’ll kick his butt.”

“Do we think Stephan is going to grant me the land without an argument?”

Pieder shot to his feet. “Grant! The human king does not own the land!”

Oakes waved him down and turned to Blythe. “Lad, now that you’re a king, you have to learn the difference between asking and telling.”

*

Garrick left Djinn to the care of one of his men and found Stephan on top of a wall surveying the rounding up of the fortress’s defenders. They were deep within Felor’s kingdom, and these soldiers would be less likely to accept a change of kings or to have a farm they’d rather to return to. He wondered if Stephan would expect him to sort this out and decide who got hung from the castle wall. Given a choice, he’d gladly leave it up to Derry , he thought, surprised at how much his outlook had changed.

Stephan greeted him jubilantly. “We’ve won. There’s still much work to be done, but we’ve won.”

Garrick accepted Stephan’s embrace. The man was wearing the crown that Blythe had snatched from Felor. “Congratulations, sire.”

Stephan draped an arm over his shoulders and propelled him along as he talked. “I’ll set up my base here. We still need to establish control further west and to the north, and I need a good man to lead troops there. A man like you.”

“Of course,” Garrick replied automatically, though his thoughts rebelled against the idea. Stephan was his king, and he’d always done what his king had asked of him. A man did not leave his king’s side because he wanted to make love with a squire. He didn’t refuse to ride north because he was tired of fighting and wanted to find somewhere peaceful to settle...with his squire .

“I take it the lad is safe?”

The lad. Garrick felt his gaze wander to the crown on Stephan’s head. “Yes, Blythe is safe.” Had Stephan forgotten his name?

“Good, good. A surprising lad, that one.”

“Most surprising,” Garrick said, his thoughts wandering. Why had he left Blythe to come pay attendance to Stephan? Stephan had plenty of men. Blythe needed him. Or maybe he needed Blythe. He let Stephan drag him through the campsite, nodding responses and wondering why he didn’t simply leave. Any debt he owed Stephan had been repaid long ago. Oakes was right. Stephan wouldn’t willingly dismiss him. He’d make use of him. Send him to conquer the north then welcome him back. If he did what was expected of him, he’d still be welcome in the king’s bed on occasion.

Which was where they’d been heading. To Stephan’s tent, though perhaps not his bed. Garrick had been with Stephan long enough to read his moods and there was no urgency for sex about him. Not like Blythe. He remembered Blythe stopping him on the stairwell of the castle because he needed him so much that they didn’t have time to make it to the top of the stairs. He felt a pleasant warmth at the memory.

Camp chairs had been set up outside the king’s tent. Stephan dropped into one and gestured Garrick toward another. “Wine.” It was a command not a question and a squire was at their side with two goblets.

Garrick accepted his wine and leaned back in the chair as if surveying the camp. How soon before he could make his excuses and get back to Blythe? Stephan didn’t need him for anything .

“So, the only fae are the ghosts,” Stephan mused.

That was what he wanted, Garrick realized. A report on the trip and to know if they’d found what they were looking for. He wasn’t ready to tell Stephan about Pieder. Not yet. He might need that as a bribe to get away from his king. “Oh, there are fae in the forests.”

Stephan turned to him, more alert. “But you brought ghosts.”

“The forest fae weren’t interested in our war. Or very interested in what humans get up to, except for one thing.” He remembered Pieder studying him as he lay naked by the river. “Though they did kidnap Blythe for a few hours.”

“So he’s seen them.” Stephan’s voice lifted with hope. “You’ve seen them?”

“I’ve seen them, and they had a very good look at me.” He paused, considering what to say next. “They look very different from Blythe. Oh, he has fae blood in him, but a full fae would never pass for a human. There’s too much sharpness about their features and the ears…” He paused again.

“Tell me.” Stephan’s voice held a tightness that meant he could easily be aroused. Garrick remembered the times he’d taken advantage of that.

“They wear their hair braided, and their ear-points rise above the braids. They braid feathers in their hair and drape themselves in vines and leaves.” He gave a little shrug. “Frankly, they wear very little. Not that I was wearing anything when the found us. They found my size...intriguing.”

Stephan let out a soft groan and stared across the camp. “Damn you, Garrick. I don’t suppose you feel a need to spend some time in my bed.”

“No, sire,” Garrick said, surprised to hear the words coming from his own mouth. “I think I will decline the invitation.” A few weeks before, he longed for the offer, but now, well, now he wanted to return to Blythe. He looked in the direction of their camp wondering if he should just hand his goblet to a squire and walk back that way.

A surge of movement in the distance caught his attention. He stood, gazing across the camp. Men were gathering then parting to let something, someone, through. Blythe. It had to be him. In this busy camp not much else would pull men away from their duties or rest. But the fae lad who’d taken Felor’s crown would.

Stephan came to his side. “Seems something has their attention.”

“Yes,” Garrick said.

“Should we go investigate?”

“I suspect they’ll come to us.”

“Yes, I think he will.” Stephan took his seat again and raised his wine goblet. “I see the journey didn’t dull your fascination with the half-fae lad.”

Garrick turned to him, surprised at the casual tone.

“Come now,” Stephan said. “I’ve been your lover. Shared your bed. I know how you look when you’re in love. Garrick, what is it you think I’m going to do to the lad? I’m hardly going to take him from you, even if instead of living fae you brought me ghosts.”

Garrick’s gaze wandered to the crown again.

“Ah, this.” Stephan tapped the gold. “It’s heavier than needed. Give me a king who proves himself in battle against his enemies, not by wearing the largest crown he can find. Felor was ostentatious. Ostentatious and stupid enough to let himself be killed by a half-grown, half-fae lad instead of a king. And you think I might be angry because after chasing him across half the country, the lad did the honors for me?”

“Yes.”

“Of course I’m angry,” Stephan burst out. “I wanted to run the bastard through myself. But I’m not stupid, Garrick. We’d have lost more men, and likely Felor would have surrendered rather than fight. Then I’d be left deciding whether to behead him or hang him from his own wall. There’s no blood lust in either of those. And the lad,” Stephan looked into his wine goblet, “well, I can’t say the lad had less reason than me for wanting him dead. So, Garrick. I am prepared to welcome your precious lad graciously, like a king.”

Chapter 37

The procession, for that was what it had become, neared. Three riders followed by a crowd of Stephan’s soldiers. Oakes led on his large black gelding. He sat tall in his saddle, his presence enough to part the crowds in front of them. Blythe rode behind, a cloak pulled about his slim form. A well-cloaked and hooded figure followed behind on a horse Oakes must have borrowed from somewhere. They’d kept Pieder covered. A good idea since they had no idea how the camp would react to a full fae riding through their midst. Oakes stopped a few paces from Stephan’s tent and the followers fanned out in a half circle as Blythe slipped from his horse.

Garrick’s breath caught as Blythe stepped forward, letting his cloak fall to the ground. He’d dressed the way the fae did, with nothing more than feathers and woven greenery falling from his shoulders to his hips. Leaves had been worked into his hair. Strong greens that echoed the summer season had been fixed into braids pulled back along the sides so the leaves formed a crown above his pointed ears.

Blythe stopped a few strides from Stephan and inclined his head slightly. Stephan gave an echoing nod, and the two regarded each other for the space of three breaths. Blythe was nervous. Garrick knew him well enough to be able to tell that, but he stood tall in front of the king.

“You have recovered from the battle?” Stephan asked. There was no nervousness in Stephan, but Blythe’s appearance had surprised him. This was the lad who’d won Felor’s crown and the watching men knew that.

“Well enough. My army rests.”

A murmur ran through the waiting men. They knew what Blythe’s army was, and Garrick realized he could never ride north and leave Blythe in Stephan’s camp. Not with an army of ghosts wandering the neighboring fields.

“May they continue to rest peacefully,” Stephan said.

“I will return them to our land soon. The land of the Midsummer fae. It is the land that stretches between the western river and the deep forest of the fae. It is where our dead may rest and our living may find sanctuary. I am its Ri.”

Ri? Garrick caught the twitch of Stephan’s mouth as it pulled back and was ready to throw himself between the two men. Stephan wouldn’t know the word, but he understood nonetheless. Blythe had just declared himself king of a sizeable stretch of what had been Felor’s lands. Admittedly, he’d earned it, and Stephan still held the far larger portion of the lands. But would he remember that?

Stephan stood staring at the slender lad he’d twice ordered executed while Garrick held his breath waiting to see which way the storm would break. Then Stephan broke into a hearty laugh. “Damn you, lad. You’re going to take my best commander too, aren’t you? I was promised a fae in return. You brought me ghosts.”

Blythe smiled. “An exchange then? A fae for a commander?”

Garrick felt himself jerk upward in surprise. The agreement was to bring Stephan a fae in return for Blythe not to trade him for Pieder. Him! Traded for a pretty fae lad! He caught himself before he spoiled Blythe’s negotiations by laughing. He was sure of himself, wasn’t he? Certainly too sure of his own standing to think he could be the object of such an exchange. Or that Stephan would consider—ah, but he knew what was about to happen.

Blythe held out his hand. Behind him, the cloaked figure slipped lithely from his mount and glided forward. Blythe took his hand and moved him so he stood just a few feet from Stephan. Then he pulled the cloak back and let it drop from the slender shoulders.

Stephan gave an odd strangled sound as if he’d forgotten how to breathe. Pieder wore nothing but a few twining vines that didn’t hide anything Stephan wanted to see. Feathers dangled from the lobes of his sharply pointed ears and he gave Stephan a wide smile. “He’s very big. Can I try him?”

“Try?” Stephan stammered.

“Yes,” Garrick said, with a worldly air. “The fae are very interested in, well, how fae and humans fit together.”

“Together.” Stephan’s voice was a gurgle.

“This is Pieder,” Blythe said. “One of my knights.”

Stephan didn’t ask how many other knights Blythe had. He simply stared at Pieder, who regarded him with a wide grin. Then he spread his arms. “Come then. Take my measure if you will.”

“Perhaps inside your tent would be best,” Garrick suggested, before Pieder could move forward. The fae lad was likely to lift the royal tunic and take Stephan at his word.

Stephan chuckled and waved to his tent. “Come, Pieder, tell me how I may please the fae.”

Studying the slender figure standing a few feet from him, Garrick waited until Stephan had vanished into his tent. Blythe didn’t move or call to him, but Garrick could read the question in his eyes. The lad had ended a war and seized a kingdom, but he would still worry about what Garrick would choose to do about all this. Drawing his sword in a smooth motion, Garrick stepped forward.

*

Blythe watched as Garrick stepped forward with his sword drawn. Trust Garrick, Oakes had told him. He’d have felt better if he’d had a chance to warn Garrick about what he was going to do. Now he had to hope Garrick understood.

Garrick stepped in front of him, placed the sword, point down, between them and dropped to one knee. He looked up into Blythe’s eyes. “My sword is your sword. My body is your body, for as long as you will have them.”

Blythe gulped, unable to speak. He reached out and put his hands on top of Garrick’s. Trust Garrick . Garrick who rose in a smooth motion, leaned forward over the sword and kissed him. Right there in front of everyone. Blythe heard cheers and whistles. That surprised him. Garrick pulled back and stood, waiting. Blythe swallowed, not sure he could speak. Or what he should say. “I’m not sure what to do next,” he managed to whisper.

A smile tweaked Garrick’s lips. “As your commander, it’s my job to oversee the setting up of your royal tent—”

“I don’t have a tent. Oh, your tent?”

“Perhaps our tent, if you’ll allow. Because I, your devoted commander, will need somewhere to stay for the fortnight or so to it will take to arrange for supplies and transport for our return to your castle.”

“We can go back to the castle,” he breathed with relief. He’d been worried Garrick might argue on that point. That he might want to stay and help Stephan.

“You are its Ri.” Garrick’s voice held amusement, not anger. “And it is a marvelous castle with a memorable bathing chamber. When I can get Stephan’s attention again, I will make my claim of lands he owes me.”

“Back east?” He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“Oh, I doubt I’ll be returning to the east for many years, if ever,” Garrick said breezily. “I thought I’d trade any lands Stephan has already given me for a stretch of lands bordering the river. Just across from your lands. That will provide an extra border of protection.”

Blythe let himself breathe again and looked into those dark eyes with wonder. “You’d do that for me?”

“I am made to serve my king.”

His king? Stephan?

Garrick kissed him. “To serve my Ri.”

No, not Stephan. Him. A wave of desire tugged at Blythe. Between it and Garrick’s closeness, wearing nothing but leaves seemed like a bad idea. “Was that us?” he asked. “Because.” He dropped his gaze.

Garrick looked down too, smiled and then pressed closer to him. “I’ll gladly shield my Ri, but I think Stephan has made it to the try part. Perhaps we should get in there with him.”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to stop him,” Blythe said as his cock demanded more attention.

“Stopping him wasn’t what I had in mind.” Garrick’s dark eyes pleaded with him. “I’m yours if you would like to try me. Please.”

Blythe laughed at the wistful look in those eyes. Then another wave of desire hit, and he wrapped Garrick’s hands tighter. “Don’t know if I can make it to the tent.”

Garrick laughed. “If we hurry, I might stand a chance.” He dropped his sword, picked Blythe up and ran toward Stephan’s tent. Blythe heard good-natured laughter and calls behind them and caught a glimpse of Oakes swinging from Sunny’s saddle to retrieve Garrick’s sword before they dove into Stephan’s tent.

“Where should I put you?” Garrick mused, whirling. Blythe caught sight of Stephan’s clothed back, then Garrick lowered him to a pile of cushions and he saw what Stephen and Pieder were doing. The sight made Garrick pause too. Pieder was hanging upside down with his legs wrapped around the tent pole. His head was covered with Stephan’s tunic, but Stephan’s mouth was busy with Pieder’s cock so Blythe imagined Pieder was returning the favor.

Garrick gave him a little tug, pulling him closer. “We should try that one day. But for now, how do you want me?”

“Naked. You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“A human weakness,” Garrick muttered, pulling his tunic off. “If you take to twining yourself in nothing but vines like that, I won’t object.” He tossed the tunic to one side and followed it with the undertunic. “Damn boots,” he muttered, bending over and hopping on one foot to untie them. Blythe caught sight of his tight buttocks as he twisted and a desire he didn’t realize he had filled him. Maybe it was the overflow of Stephan’s passion spilling into him, but he needed to be in Garrick.

Garrick had the boots off and then the trousers landed on the ground, revealing the coppery glow of his skin. He came to stand before Blythe who reached out to stroke the broad chest. “How do you want me?” Garrick asked.

Blythe looked into his eyes, unsure of how to give his answer. For a moment, Garrick simply gazed back at him. Then he chuckled and leaned in to kiss him. Blythe’s shoulders dropped as he tried to build up his courage to ask. Then he felt something cold touch his cock. He jerked as Garrick’s fingers stroked him, bringing warmth to the oil.

Garrick looked into his eyes, a smile touching his lips. “My body is yours to enjoy as you wish.” Then he nodded in Stephan’s direction before leaning close to Blythe’s ear. “We used to take turns.”

“Lies,” Stephan said, not turning from his activities. “Well, maybe not all lies. And how do you want me, my fae lad?”

Blythe didn’t hear Pieder’s response. He was staring into Garrick’s eyes as he felt waves of desire washing over him from Stephan and Pieder. This was part of being fae and of being a Ri. Feeling each other’s arousal. Taking part in it. This was the temptation. To join in. To join the midsummer gatherings where fae sometimes lay with humans in the fields. “When we have my castle, we have to hold midsummer gatherings again,” he muttered.

“You’ve lost track of the days, my Ri,” Garrick muttered into his hair. “It’s midsummer, and we must celebrate.” He groaned as another waves of desire hit him. “Though I think King Stephan may be slightly ahead of you in reestablishing the tradition of the fae and humans joining together.”

“We should catch up.”

Garrick pulled him close. “It’s not a familiarity I’ve allowed any other man.”

“I’ve only let you,” Blythe answered, wondering if Garrick would compare him against Stephan.

Garrick’s hands were warm on his cock as he nuzzled at his neck. “How would you like me? If I’m facing you, I can help guide you. But if you’d rather, I’ll kneel before my Ri and bend over.”

Now he felt so warm he thought the entire tent must be on fire. Garrick’s hands found his and spread some oil on his fingers. Then he pulled Blythe’s hands around to cup his buttocks. “Do you want to prepare me to receive you?”

He melted against Garrick as his fingers ran over the strong muscles of his buttocks seeking something far more private. Garrick kissed him, holding him close, and, as his finger pushed into his hole, Garrick moaned. Blythe became aware of how hard Garrick was against him. Garrick wanted him as much as he wanted Garrick . He focused on that desire and pushed another finger past the tight ring of muscle. Garrick shifted, pulling them both toward a pile of cushions. “Stop for a moment.”

“Why?”

Garrick shushed him with a kiss and lowered himself to the cushions, positioning himself so he was stretched out with a thick cushion under his buttock, tilting him upward. He held out his hands.

Blythe opened his mouth and tried to breathe. Garrick’s skin gleamed like gold in the tent’s light. His cock curled upward, giving Blythe a perfect view of what Garrick was offering him. He only needed to move closer and claim it. He sank to his knees in front of Garrick.

“Use your hands to guide yourself,” Garrick said. “You won’t hurt me.”

He nodded and swallowed. He held his own swollen cock and guided it to Garrick’s hole. He pushed and nothing happened. He heard Garrick shift position and Garrick’s hand joined his. “Now shove, Blythe. You won’t hurt me.”

He closed his eyes and shoved. He pushed past tight muscle and into Garrick. The world became warmer and softer and stronger than he believed possible. Everything seemed to stop and whirl around him as his hips pulled back and shoved into Garrick again. And again. He remembered Garrick taking him in the tub. He grabbed Garrick’s thighs and lifted him to give himself better access to what he wanted. He held onto him and thrust into him. Letting his desire set their rhythm. Now he knew why men desired this. That his relationship with Garrick would be more complete for this sharing. He poured his passion for Garrick into his thrusts and opened his eyes to see Garrick tilted for him, mouth open in ecstasy, fingers gripping a cushion as their energy swirled and merged. More confident now, he changed his rhythm, letting the energy grow and drowning in the feeling of their union. He knew his moans were echoing Garrick’s as they both gasped, sucking in air to sustain their erections.

Blythe stopped and held himself deep in Garrick, letting the energy swirl. It was too much to keep and hold to himself, but he knew what to do now. He was a Ri of the land and when he released, he would release his energy and Garrick’s to the land.

He moved again, coming with long shudders as Garrick let go a moan of satisfaction so deep that Blythe could feel it echo through him. Then he collapsed on top of Garrick, letting his lover wrap warm arms around him.

“By the gods, I should have let you do that sooner,” Garrick muttered.

“Now was the right time,” Blythe said, adjusting his body to fit against Garrick’s. “Now was a very good time.”

Epilogue

Garrick rode back into the castle through the same gate they’d used those few short months ago. This time the gates were manned and a half-fae squire dashed forward to take Djinn’s reins.

“Ri Garrick, it is good you are home. Ri Blythe worries,” she called. She was one of the half-fae from the forest. They should have known there would be half-humans among the fae, born to fae mothers. When Blythe had returned to the castle, they’d come to visit, curious about their human-raised cousin. Some stayed. Garrick had been surprised when they first addressed him as Ri Garrick, but he held the lands across the river and to the fae, he was a Ri.

“I’ll do something about that shortly.” He looked up at the castle towers. He knew where Blythe would be. He hadn’t wanted to leave him, but he’d needed to check on his men and the borders. The journey had reassured him. Battles still flared up here and there as Stephan pulled the Westlands under his rule, but the villagers on his lands were happy to leave the war behind. Still, Blythe would be worried about him.

He made his way through the familiar kitchen, now filled with activity and the smells of cooking, and to the stairway that led to the tower. He ascended and found Blythe looking out over the river and one bridge that still led across it. The blond hair flowed midway down his back now and he wore only a long tunic that drifted temptingly open at the sides, exposing a stretch of bare hip.

A brazier burned beside him, providing extra warmth. It was kept supplied by a handful of young fae who took turns running up and down the stairs of the tower to see to the needs of the Ri and his nest. The floor was covered in carpets and a pile of pillows made a soft bed. The official sleeping chamber was below with its luxurious bath, but this was the view that drew Blythe most days.

“There are more arriving every week,” Blythe said

Garrick moved to look out the window. A slim figured had been stopped at the bridge to be questioned by his men, and farther back, a family approached, the father pulling a cart loaded with their possessions. “Another fae lad,” Garrick said.

“Lass,” Blythe corrected as he stepped back into Garrick’s warmth and the circle of his arms.

He stared down at the scene. “Dressed like a lad. You can tell that from here?”

He felt Blythe’s nod. “I sense it. She won’t be turned away. Oakes can add her to his home guard.”

That was the rule currently governing the land. Only those of fae heritage could cross the river. Oakes had taken on training the young arrivals in combat, and they’d proved eager to learn to defend themselves. Those with no fae blood, but who might be willing to work hard or who had skill in farming or other trades, were being settled on Garrick’s side of the river. But he kept a close limit on that with their first winter approaching. He knew that was worrying Blythe too.

“How will we feed them all?” Blythe asked, his voice tinged with worry.

“I’ll have you know my cabbage crop is doing nicely.”

Blythe chuckled. “So we won’t starve?”

“Hardly. We have the late crops to harvest, including a healthy crop of cabbages. The wild hogs from the hunts are being smoked and we have more than enough bacon and ham to last the cold weather out.” The fae were particular about who hunted deer, but the pigs from the burned villages had turned feral. The fae had no objection to those being hunted since they thought of them as animals that belonged to humans. “We may have to ration bread, and we won’t have much in the way of wine. But I’ve sampled some of the cider from the old apple orchards, and it’ll keep a man warm on a winter night. Don’t worry, Blythe, no one will starve or have to sleep in the stables and trade favors for food.”

He felt the sigh in the lifting and settling of Blythe’s shoulders. “Some of them have done that and worse. I still remember our journey. When you gave me a sword, I knew you trusted me.”

“And I remember when I pledged my sword to you. That was also because I trust you. And love you.” He ran his hand along Blythe’s hips. “The fae don’t like it when the Ri worries. So tell me how to distract you from this worry. How do you want me?”

Blythe turned from the window to him. “You’ve been gone too long. We’ll take turns.”

The End