“HOW IS he doing?”
Hulda regarded Canubis with worry in her lavender eyes. The Wolf of War sat down, wiping his face in a tired gesture.
“Still staring at the wall. Well, at least he answered my questions today. Just yes and no, but he’s talking again.”
“Damn, Casto! Why did you have to leave again?”
Hulda had spoken to the room in general, not expecting an answer at all. Still, Canubis’s fist came crashing down on the armrest of his chair.
“Because he’s a bloody nuisance! I’m almost inclined to believe he was just waiting for something like this incident to happen so he could turn his back on us!”
Hulda shook her head. She had known Canubis long enough to know his violent outburst was fueled by his worry about his little brother. They all were deeply worried.
Two weeks had passed since Casto had left the Valley and told Renaldo farewell and fuck yourself in a dream. Since then, there had been no contact. No dreams, no use of Renaldo’s fire, just a big, ominous nothing. At the moment, it seemed as if Casto was really gone. Going after him was not an option, what with the upcoming campaign in the Dark Forest and the fact that Casto could be anywhere by now. The storm Lys had called upon the mountains had washed away all traces the wolves could have followed, and not even Renaldo was desperate enough yet to dash around blindly in the meager hope of finding Casto by chance. All they could do was carry on with their tasks, hoping that the capricious blond would let off enough steam to consider returning.
“I really think you’re giving him more credit than he deserves. Casto may be devious and calculating, but not even he can plan so far ahead. Besides, he truly loves Renaldo. So whatever happened, it was bad enough to drive him away.”
Hulda raised an eyebrow meaningfully, while Canubis tried to avert his gaze. She had him finally cornered and wouldn’t let go until she knew all the details. The Wolf of War sighed. Perhaps it was a good idea to tell Hulda about what had happened during the Spring Ceremony. Until now, this had been a secret between him, Noemi, Renaldo, and Casto.
“I’m not sure if I’m able to explain it properly. A lot is rather blurry.”
“Just try. You know how understanding I can be.”
So there really was no escaping it. Canubis leaned back in his chair.
“As you may already have guessed, this year’s Spring Ceremony was a little different from the ones before. When you all started to sacrifice your blood and then honor the Mothers, we could feel the power practically drowning us. It was unbelievable, like the worst storm you’ve ever been in. And now we know what Noemi and Casto really are for—they transform all that raw energy we suck up from our followers and turn it into power. Without them, we would be consumed by it and probably die. Catch is, to transform the energy, Noemi and Casto must submit to us completely. Not only with their bodies, but also with their minds and souls.”
Hulda winced. There was no need for Canubis to speak on. Casto’s motive for leaving was absolutely clear. He hated nothing more than being forced. Even worse, during the Spring Ceremony in front of all the mercenaries. Not that any of them had noticed. They all had been too caught up in their own lust, but for Casto it must have been like a slap in the face. No wonder he had cut himself off completely.
“He’s going to need a lot of time to get over this shock. And since Lys is shielding him, there’s not much you can do. This is really bad indeed.”
Canubis huffed.
“I don’t get why he’s making such a fuss. I mean, yes, I know him, but still, Noemi took it more or less in stride.”
Hulda only stared at Canubis.
“Well, perhaps not in stride. There may have been a small—okay, okay, a big argument about my lack of restraint, but she understood. She has forgiven me.”
“First of all, you and Noemi have quite a mature relationship compared to that of Renaldo and Casto. Second, your wife is a very levelheaded person who had over a century to get used to all the surprises you can throw her way. Third, I’m convinced that Casto understands as well. He just doesn’t like it, and that’s the crux, as you well know.”
Canubis rose from his chair to pace the room.
“So what do I do now?”
Hulda shrugged.
“You don’t have much choice. You have an important campaign starting in two weeks. So you will see to it that your brother gets his act together until then, because we’re going to need him. And like all of us, you will pray to the Mothers that nothing happens to Casto while he cools his head and makes up his mind. He will return, of that I am sure. He just needs time.”
Knowing Hulda was right, Canubis showed her a weak smile.
“May the goddesses hear you, Hulda. If I think about all the things that could happen to Casto, I want to throw up.”
“Then don’t think! Concentrate on what you’re good at, namely killing people. Everything else has to sort itself out.”
IN HIS smithy, Sic gave the tiara Lady Sephrina had ordered the final polish. It was the last commissioned work he had to do before they went on the campaign in the Dark Forest, and Sic was happy to have finished it in time to send it to Ummana with all the other pieces he had made during the winter. When he put the tiara in a box to get it ready for transport, his gaze fell on the hunting knife he had made for Casto. Sighing, Sic picked up the shimmering weapon. He missed his friend more than he would have ever thought possible. Not knowing where he was and if he was fine was pure torture. That Casto had not tried to contact him only showed how deeply he was hurt.
“My precious! Please, don’t look so miserable. I’m sure Casto will be back sometime soon.”
Noran had entered the smithy without Sic noticing it, for he was so engrossed in his worries. He snuggled up against Noran’s bulky frame.
“How did you know I was worrying about Casto?”
Noran pulled Sic closer and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Because these days, you hardly smile, and when you have the look from just now, you’re thinking about your friend. Don’t worry, I have not acquired the sudden ability to read your thoughts.”
Sic rewarded Noran’s small joke with a weak smile.
“You know me too well, Master. I really miss Casto. I mean, he’s stubborn, irascible, and quite often plain insufferable, but he’s also the best friend I ever had. Despite being so disagreeable, he has never shown me anything but kindness. Not being able to help him when he’s in need is unbearable for me.”
Noran pulled Sic even closer, knowing this was all he could do for his beloved at the moment. As usual, Casto had managed to create a huge mess others had to take care of. Noran knew part of this vicious thought was grounded in the jealousy he felt toward the bond Sic and Casto shared. Nevertheless, he still believed there was a grain of truth in it. Casto never cared about the feelings of others or how his actions affected those who loved him. The only thing he ever protected fiercely was his own precious freedom. How Sic could love the king so deeply remained a mystery to Noran. Then again, Sic loved him as well, and if anything, he was worse than Casto. Desperate to take Sic’s mind off his worries, Noran started kissing him, grateful that their relationship was progressing so well.
“COULD YOU please cut it out?”
Laughing, Daran tried to fend off both Kalad’s and Aegid’s hands.
“We already did three rounds, and I really have to get going, as you well know.”
Kalad pouted.
“But we’re nowhere near satisfied yet, little thief. You have to take responsibility!”
“You always say that, and yet you never take responsibility for your actions.”
Sensing an opening, Aegid slung his arms around Daran before he could duck out of reach.
“We’re doing it now. We take responsibility for arousing you. Please, just one more round. We know you want it as well.”
“Of course I want it. But I do have a whole bunch of tasks to fulfill before we start the campaign, and I’m not sure whether Lord Canubis will be understanding if I tell him that I didn’t do his bidding because I was busy fucking around.”
Aegid huffed but let go of Daran.
“You’re probably right. Promise you’ll hurry and be back early.”
“You sound like a worried wife, Aegid.”
Daran grinned broadly. The image was somewhat alluring.
“That’s because he is one.”
Kalad stepped next to his desert brother.
“We both are. You must promise you’ll be home before nightfall.”
The two men made pleading faces, and Daran couldn’t help but kiss them, full of love.
“I promise. And once I’m back, I’ll let you have your way with me. Aren’t I generous?”
“Very much so. Go! Go before we push you down right now.”
All three men laughed heartily, reveling in their intimate, perfect happiness.
IN THE pits, Da’Ryen hacked away at the frozen soil. He was almost glad about the hard work, for it kept him from freezing. Like all the desert dwellers in the Valley, he had considerable problems dealing with the cold of winter. All in all, his situation was not as bad as he had feared after the ominous words of the Wolf of War. He was indeed the lowest ranked slave in the Pack, and technically, everybody could do to him as they pleased. Luckily for Da’Ryen, it had been decided that Nya would stay with Frankus, the master of the sauna. He was a highly respected man among the mercenaries as well as the slaves, and when he had made it known he would appreciate it if Da’Ryen was left alone, they all had complied. Nya brought him food three times a day, and it was always rich and delicious. To top it off, he was allowed to sleep at Frankus’s place on a real bed instead of in the slave barracks. Da’Ryen knew he owed it all to Nya, or rather, the relationship she had established with Frankus. The two liked each other genuinely, like father and daughter, and because Nya also liked Da’Ryen, Frankus had started to protect him, although he did not like him. The master of the sauna had made that crystal clear to Da’Ryen on more than one occasion. He held him responsible for what had happened to Lord Daran, and if anything, Frankus was fiercely protective of those he loved. Their relationship was highly ambiguous, the only thing connecting them their mutual love for Nya. Despite the tension between him and Frankus, Da’Ryen was content with how things had turned out. He had been given another chance to atone for the sins of his past, something he had not dared to hope for after the barbarians had caught them.
The only real nuisance was two other slaves who were almost as low in rank as he was. Their names were Sindal and Elwan, and they were truly unpleasant. Unlike the other slaves, they did not respect Frankus and used every chance to pick on Da’Ryen and make his life miserable. Even though they were the lowest, they still had the protection of the law, and he could not strike at them as he so wanted to do. He had to bear whatever they did to him, because if he laid his hands on them, he would be executed. The only bright spot was that they had lost their tongues. When Da’Ryen imagined the ridicule they would surely rain on him were they still capable of it, he just knew he would not be able to withstand the temptation to smash their skulls. Most of the time he was able to evade them, since they usually either worked at the pig sheds or had to clean out the privies, while Da’Ryen had to work in the pits and help Frankus in the sauna.
IN HIS chambers, Renaldo stared into nothing. His hands played with the ring he had given Casto as a present while his mind replayed the events of the Spring Ceremony in an endless loop. He tried to discern the point when he could have stopped himself from doing the unthinkable, but there was none. Especially since he knew that it was his right to own Casto. After all, he was his god and master. The contradicting emotions threatened to consume Renaldo completely. To make matters worse, he could feel his control of the fire weakening ever since Casto had broken their connection. It made Renaldo realize how essential the hearts were for him and Canubis and that it was a good thing they had gotten them before they had gained their true power back. All he could do now was hope Casto would come back to him soon, preferably before he lost control and slid back into the difficult times before he had had a heart.
WITH A satisfied sigh, Sic put his seal on the list of items that would go to Ummana. He had also included a letter to Jago and Cassia, as well as the wooden figurine of a horse for Heljia. When he thought about his little sister, Sic felt a wave of warmth wash over him. She was almost two and a lovely little lady. Sic was still amazed that he could meet her in his dreams. The first time it happened, about five weeks ago, he assumed it was wishful thinking on his part, but since that first night, he and Heljia had met almost every night, and he just knew it was real. The dream always started at the villa where Jago and Cassia lived with Heljia. She showed him how her day had been and what had happened. Then they went to play, either in her room or in the garden of the villa. Sic knew all her stuffed toys by name and had become really good at serving tea in the small cups Heljia used for her parties. When they wanted a change of scenery, Heljia took Sic’s hand and he pulled her into his memories, where they would run around in the Valley, play with the wolves, and visit Lys down at the stables. And since this was all a dream, Lys carried them around on his broad back without batting an eyelash. Sometimes Sic wasn’t sure if the stallion was really only a figment of his imagination or truly there. All the other people and even the wolves had a strange quality to them that suggested they were in the dream but mere projections. Lys, on the other hand, felt larger than life when they played with him. Since the stallion didn’t mind carrying Sic and Heljia, Sic had no qualms accepting his kindness. And it was not as if he could ask him anymore. Lys was gone.
A wave of sadness washed over Sic when his thoughts returned once again to Casto. He didn’t have to be a genius to understand why his friend had left the Valley, but it still hurt that he couldn’t help him. Seeing Renaldo suffer hurt Sic even more. He knew how much the man loved Casto and how he was beating himself up for what had happened at the Spring Ceremony. Noran’s barely concealed anger about Casto’s behavior added another layer of stress to Sic’s tumultuous emotions, and if that wasn’t enough, there was the strange connection he shared with Daran and Lukan. The three of them had avoided talking about the issue so far, but the bond between them was getting stronger, and they had to figure out what was going on. They also had to tell Canubis and Renaldo about it. Sic knew all too well the gods would not be pleased when they found out how long he and the other two men had been stalling. Mentally slapping himself for allowing his troubles to disturb the feeling of peace he got from thinking about Heljia, Sic focused on the fun they had together. The memory of Heljia’s happy laughter calmed him down, and he was looking forward to meeting her again that night.
“SO THE bastard brothers have signed the contract to get rid of the guerilla forces in the Dark Forest?”
The hooded man looked expectantly at Queen Xe’lien, who tried her hardest not to shudder visibly.
“Yes, they have. They did hesitate at first, but as you predicted, they can’t afford not to pursue the rebels for fear what the Good Mother might be plotting up here while they are occupied elsewhere. Everything is going according to your plan.”
“The Good Mother will reward you for your loyalty.”
Xe’lien bowed her head demurely. Having the gratitude of a goddess was surely a good thing when one wanted to become queen of the East.
“I also gave the bastards the false information about the whereabouts of your men. They’re going to start searching in all the wrong places, so it should be easy for you to finish them off.”
A cruel smile appeared on the lips of the hooded man. The plan was indeed progressing better than he had dared to hope. Not only would he be able to keep the bastards occupied for at least two or three years to come and thus enable the Good Mother to carry out her plans undetected, he also had the chance to kill one of the Emeris in the process. If he managed to do that, the war would be decided before it had begun. To add to the good news, one of his spies had sent him word this very morning that Casto had left the Valley—and Renaldo—seemingly for good. If the Followers managed to find the heart before the bastards and then kill him…. He shivered with glee. Things were finally looking up.