Gust found it interesting that the warrior appeared quite gentle and almost docile. It was also something to see the beast Brutus act like a joyful colt upon seeing Lance. Gust wanted to know everything about Lance, and knew he had to take it slow. At least he was confident in his guess that Lance couldn’t be much older than him. Gust was twenty-seven years old. Lance had to be around that age as well.
Lance’s wounds were healing nicely despite the heart-stopping fall, and his sleep was undisturbed. Brutus refused to leave Lance’s side, and Maged brought hay and oats to him. Brutus bobbed his head at Maged as if saying thanks before chomping at the food. Brutus even let Gust brush him after Maged returned saddle, bridle, and saddlebags, all freshly cleaned. The allowance delighted Gust, although it saddened him to see the longing in Lance’s eyes. The bond between man and beast was obvious and beautiful.
It was mid-morning, the day after Lance’s awakening, and Gust made sure he was still sleeping and had plenty of water before slipping out of the room. He hurried outside and across the town to the meeting hut, determined to know what the council said about Lance. He was prepared to defend his patient against any bigotry. The council was equally split between men and women, as well as young and old, so there was a good chance the younger generation would have an open mind about the warrior in their midst. Due to preparations for the snake festival and normal late spring and early summer activities, it had taken longer than usual for the council to meet to discuss Lance’s arrival.
Gust slipped into the hut quietly and crouched in the back, behind all the pews. He spotted Kissa at the front, sitting on the first pew to the right. The ten council members sat at a long table, facing the audience. He didn’t want to leave Lance alone too long. None of the apprentices were available to watch him so Gust was taking a chance. The fever might have broken but Gust was scared he would try to leave again. Foolish man. It was like he didn’t understand how badly he was injured despite Kissa and Gust telling him about it.
“This council meeting is now in session,” Gamall said, the eldest member and speaker. “This special meet was requested by our chief healer, Kissa. Kissa, if you please.”
“Thank you.” Kissa stood and stepped forward to address the council, and yet it was clear she was also addressing those of the town in attendance. “I wish to inform the council that the patient Gust brought to me a few days ago is a warrior named Lance. We do not yet know his story or anything of his past. His horse, as I’m sure many of you have noticed, is unique and deadly in his own right. My nephew suggested that he could be a divine animal.”
A few murmurs rippled through the hut.
“I have no evidence to that theory, and yet the manner of the horse leads me to wonder at his origins. Regardless, Lance is healing nicely, and I hope to learn more of his story as time allows.”
“You brought this to our attention for a reason,” Heb said, a man a few years older than Gust. “Do you think this warrior is a danger? Or that he brings danger with him? Could he be part of Ragel’s band?”
“I cannot speculate as to that,” Kissa said crisply. “I wanted the council and our town to be aware of the stranger in our midst and to use caution. At this point I don’t see him as a danger to anyone but himself since he continues to be stubborn about my instructions.”
There were a few snickers, and Gust smiled. Everyone in the town knew Kissa’s insistence on being obeyed.
“I have to wonder about the horse,” Anippa said, her pale eyes narrowed in a dark, wrinkled face. “It attacked some of our men. We can’t keep a dangerous beast within our borders.”
Even as Gust was about to leap up in defense, Kissa’s strong voice took up the challenge.
“As I understand it from my nephew, a few of our men decided to lay claim to the horse without permission. The horse took offense and defended himself. Before and after Lance’s awakening the horse has been peaceful, and even the stablemaster has commented on his steady manner.”
“That’s right,” Maged said as he stood. He was a strong man in his waning years, and yet his eyes were no less keen than they were in his younger days. “Brutus is loyal to his rider and not a threat to anyone that isn’t a threat to him. I’ve watched Gust handle the horse since the incident, and he has since brushed him with ease. Brutus understands and accepts his words of reassurance. He’s not a wild animal. I think Gust is right, and that the horse is blessed by Batsa. We can confirm with the priest or priestess if there’s still doubt.”
When Maged sat down, Kissa spoke again. “At this time, I have no reason to think that Lance or Brutus are any danger to us. Lance is being watched all day and night by myself, Gust, or one of the apprentices.”
Gust felt a tug of guilt. He also realized Kissa had said nothing about how Lance was beaten, or their theory it was from running the gauntlet. It would be a dead giveaway that they might be dealing with a dangerous and potentially traitorous individual. Heb had already mentioned Ragel and that put everyone on edge already. She alerted the council without frightening them. It would give them time to figure out Lance’s story.
Good job, Aunt.
“We should send a letter to Lord Khepi,” Lukman said. The older council member was stately in stature and shrewd in gaze. “I would rest easier if our main benefactor knew about the potential danger in our midst. He can send us soldiers to guard against a raid.”
“My patient can barely stand,” Kissa said, tone hardening. “What danger do you expect from him?”
“As Heb said,” Lukman said with a similar tone. “We can’t know if the warrior brings danger with him or if he was one of Ragel’s band. We are a wealthy town and only Lord Semesy and Lord Khepi’s soldiers keep us safe.”
Those were the two earls that sent soldiers to patrol the roads and protect Thebys during harvesting season. Gust clenched his jaw to keep from ranting against Lukman. He had to grudgingly admit that he had a point. He didn’t know Lance either, and yet he still trusted that he meant no harm to anyone. The docility and almost lost look in his eyes put Gust in mind of a child forced to journey out into the wide world alone.
“I will send a letter to him,” Gamall said. Kissa opened her mouth, and Gamall held up a hand. “It will only inform him of what we know. A man we suspect to be a warrior came to us wounded and is healing in our town. That is all. There is no reason to request soldiers at this time. He has been with us for a couple of days and none of our sentinels have reported any movement of warriors. Besides, I doubt either of them would have many to spare. They have sent a good portion of their soldiers to Swenen to assist Queen Gunrun in her battle against the horde.”
A collective shudder went through all the attendees, and Gust grimaced. The horde was a plague in human form. They ravaged the borders of Swenen and had for generations. He only knew that the brutal beasts were relentless, and to rule the northern kingdom was to inherit a bloody throne.
Kissa’s dark eyes glinted, indicating her displeasure, but she nodded. The other council members murmured their agreement to Gamall’s decision.
“While he is your patient, Kissa,” Gamall said. “I think I speak for everyone that we would be more reassured when we learn his history. We don’t want the wrath of a warlord to burn us to get to him.”
“I understand,” she said stiffly.
Gust blew out a breath and slipped out, relieved at the council’s decision. Now he just hoped Lance didn’t have a dark past that could swallow them all.
Before returning to Lance, Gust detoured to the modest temple devoted to Cairon’s eight gods. He walked to Anknet’s shrine first and pulled out a small bag full of peaches and a modest knife. He set the peaches in an empty basket and placed it at the foot of one of the painstakingly carved and painted pillars. Large birds dominated the blue sky, representing life, while snakes twined and slithered around the base, representing death. Colors were bright and vivid around the birds while only greys and greens accompanied the snakes.
He nicked his forearm and smeared the blood along the base of the pillar. Anknet had shared the gift of healing with the first humans when the world was still young, after they’d begged and pleaded with the gods to show them how to prolong life. It was only proper he give something back in thanks. It was because of her that he and his aunt had the ability to heal Lance.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Then he paced slowly around the temple, regarding the seven other shrines, spaced equal distance from each other, tended to by the priest and priestess that lived inside the temple. There were Osys and Ysys, brother and sister, husband and wife. The two aspects of life personified in two different entities. Their son, Hoksys, was a guardian and patron of kings and queens, and all rulers and leaders. He was balance and light, the sun, and growth. Then there was Snet, his uncle, the chaos-wielder, cruel and malicious. He was the one to kill Osys in the Beginning and scatter parts of him over the universe. Only Ysys could put him back together and breathe life into him again. But he had to remain in the underworld, the only immortal to have ever died.
Then there was Mawn, the devourer of souls. Her black pillar always made Gust shudder. Next to her was Batsa, and then finally Drska, the inspirer, the one to inflame passion in artists of all sorts, including musicians, minstrels, and dancers.
These gods and goddesses had been worshipped in Cairon before it was part of the empire, many generations in the murky past. His tribal ancestors had brought them along as they headed north. It was a constant that comforted him.
As he stepped away from the temple, it didn’t surprise him to see Gamall shuffle nearer with Rabia assisting him. Rabia was a woman not too much older than Gust, though she was married with two adopted children. She caught his eye and nodded to him as she helped Gamall up the shallow steps to the front door of the temple. Rabia knocked. They didn’t wait long for the priestess to answer. Mandissa smiled upon seeing them. She was petite and her dress was loose, a golden column covering her from neck to ankle, the sleeves reaching her delicate wrists. Her dark hair was bundled up on the top of her head without adornment. The priest, Kurzun, wore similar garb, though he’d shaved his head bald.
“Good day. How may I assist you?” she asked.
“Good day, Priestess,” Rabia said.
“We need you to look at a horse that has come into our town,” Gamall said.
Mandissa tilted her head slightly. “A horse?”
Rabia explained the situation, and Mandissa nodded. “I would certainly be able to take a look at the beast. Do you know where he is?”
Gust stepped forward. “I can lead you to the horse. His name is Brutus.”
The three turned to look at him.
“What are you doing here instead of watching the warrior?” Gamall said.
Gust cleared his throat. “I was giving offerings to Anknet, thanking her for helping me save the warrior’s life.”
Mandissa smiled serenely.
Gamall appeared chastised and Rabia smirked at the elder’s discomfort.
“If you would follow me,” Gust said. He led them back to the healing hut. Brutus slowly paced outside the open window, appearing impatient and bored. When he noticed them, his ears perked up and he whinnied. Before Gust could fear the worst, Brutus trotted closer and nudged his shoulder with his nose. Gust smiled, relieved, and stroked his neck.
Gamall and Rabia stopped a safe distance away while Mandissa came closer. Brutus eyed her and made no show of aggression. Did Brutus know she was a priestess and harmless?
Mandissa considered him in silence as she slowly walked around him. When she reached his head once more, her eyes were wide in astonishment.
“Without a doubt, I say this horse is blessed by Batsa. He is of divine blood.”
Clearly, Gamall had not expected that answer. Gods, neither had Rabia, if her gaping was any indication.
Gust smiled and continued to stroke Brutus’s neck. Satisfied and thrilled, Gust felt vindicated. Mandissa stepped closer and held out her hand. Brutus sniffed it before nuzzling her palm. A grin broke out on her face, and she rubbed his nose and cooed with such affection, Gust nearly blushed. Brutus swished his tail, apparently loving the attention.
“Whatever warrior has earned this horse’s trust, can very likely be trusted himself. Divine animals do not give their loyalty to just anyone.”
Gamall grunted. “Thank you, Mandissa.”
“My pleasure, Elder Gamall.”
“We shall inform the rest of the council,” Rabia said faintly. She led Gamall away.
Mandissa stayed a bit longer, unable to stop touching Brutus. “I am greatly interested in the warrior.”
Gust smiled. “As am I. He’s still healing. Though he should be up and around before too much longer. Maybe another day.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Lance.”
“Odd name.”
“Yes. My fellow healers think he might be from Swenen. We haven’t had a chance to speak much.”
“He will tell us his story when he’s ready,” she said with infinite patience and compassion. Then she sighed and laid a light kiss on Brutus’s cheek. “I must return to my duties. It has been an honor to meet you, Brutus. I hope your stay is pleasant.”
Brutus made a small, pleased sound.
Then she was gone.
Gust caught Brutus’s gaze. “I’m petting a divine animal. Still doesn’t seem real. I’m glad you’re with Lance. Hopefully it will calm most of the anxiety his presence has stirred.”
Brutus snorted.
Gust checked on Lance to find him still asleep. He was cool and his breathing was steady. That reassured Gust and let him feel confident about leaving to fulfill other tasks. He assisted Sabra and Horem in mixing herbs. Although Heqet was their official trainer, he didn’t mind pointing them in the right direction when she wasn’t around, and they were more than happy to learn any tips or tricks he knew.
When he stepped into the common room, debating whether to pick up anything from the bakery, the front door opened, and who should step inside but the last person in the world he wanted to see?
Dakar grinned upon seeing him, just as good-looking and powerfully built as he’d been over a year ago. He was tall, broad, and dressed in well-tailored clothes of the finest fabric. He strutted like a bird trying to win a mate, and knew how to be charming and generous when it suited him.
Gust had fallen for his act once. Never again.
“I knew I’d find you here,” Dakar said, flashing that engaging grin. “You’ve always been so dedicated to your job. It’s good that some things don’t change.”
Gust frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d heard that you had returned. Welcome back.”
“Thank you.” Dakar’s smile faltered under Gust’s cool greeting. “I was half hoping you’d stop by my house to welcome me personally.”
“Why would I do that?”
“We were engaged before Father sent me away.”
Gust raised an eyebrow, his gut tightening in anxiety. “Is that how you remember it? You have a flawed memory. We were never engaged. We courted for about a month before I decided I didn’t want you. I made that clear. You refused to listen to me. Then your father sent you away, and I was given a nice, yearlong reprieve from you. Sad it couldn’t last.”
Dakar frowned, eyes narrowing in annoyance. Gust held his ground.
“Don’t be like that, my love. I know you’re just playing with me. Increasing my love by playing hard to get.”
“Hardly. Not playing. Look, I don’t have the time or the energy to argue with you. Please leave.”
“My father says your most recent patient is a half-dead warrior,” Dakar said, voice tight with anger. “One with a vicious horse that tried to kill some of our men.”
“Your father can say whatever he wants. Doesn’t make it true.”
“Are you calling my father a liar?”
Gust hid a wince. He would be wise not to insult an elder, especially one that already resented him because he’d rejected his son. “Elder Lukman is a man who loves Thebys. I know he cares very much for the town. I will never deny that. But as for people outside Thebys, he has little patience for them.”
Dakar stepped closer and Gust barely managed to stop himself from backing away. This was his home, and he wouldn’t have some arrogant little bastard maneuver him like a coward.
“Let’s not argue, love. Let me take you to the tavern. Get some drinks, some food. Let me tell you about my wonderful time in Apys. The festival is coming up. No one wants to be alone during a festival.”
“Then you better find someone,” Gust said dryly. “I’m attending with my aunt.”
Dakar’s jaw tightened.
Just then, Kissa bustled into the room. She paused for a heartbeat before speaking. “Good day, Dakar. Glad to see you’ve made it home safely. I’m sure you father must be thrilled.”
Dakar turned that attractive smile on Kissa and swept an elegant bow. “Good day to you, Kissa. It is very good to be home, and yes, my father is overjoyed to see me.”
“Of course, he is.” Kissa turned to Gust. “I need you in the kitchen. Lots of herbs to mix.”
“I am at your disposal.” Gust inclined his head to Dakar and made his grateful escape.
Kissa spoke to Dakar a moment longer before politely shooing him out of the hut. Gust’s hands shook slightly as he reentered the kitchen. He ignored Horem and Sabra and pressed his palms against the counter, leaning his weight on them. He bowed his head and took careful breaths.
Damn it. He really didn’t want to deal with Dakar’s horseshit.
Kissa came closer and gently rubbed his back. “Let me say something to Lukman.”
Gust shook his head. “I can handle this. I need to handle this. I’m not a child.”
“It’s not childish to ask for help. I worry.”
And Gust hadn’t even explained all the crap Dakar had done or tried to do. He was glad he’d kept his silence. He didn’t want to worry his aunt.
“Besides,” Gust said quietly. “What makes you think Lukman would do anything? Dakar is his pride and joy. Neither of them would understand why I refuse. No, Dakar is my mistake that I’m trying to rectify.”
Kissa frowned although she didn’t argue further. His aunt didn’t treat him like a child, and he was forever grateful to her for that. She might not agree with all his decisions, and yet she respected them and his ability to make his own choices.
Gust took one last deep breath before straightening. He forced a smile on his face and kissed Kissa’s cheek.
“I will be well. Thank you for coming in when you did.”
Kissa nodded.
Gust left the kitchen and finished a few other errands before making his way back to Lance’s room. It was now the afternoon. If Lance was still sleeping, he might have to wake him to make sure he ate something.
Lance was sitting up when Gust opened the door. He held the effigy of Anknet, rolling it around in his hands. He appeared rather lost, and Gust’s heart ached a little to see such an expression. When he closed the door Lance looked up, and his eyes cleared and warmed. Gust’s heart then ached for a different reason. It was always desired to have the trust of a patient and yet with Lance it felt like something more. It was the same sensation Gust felt when Brutus listened to him. These two mighty creatures enjoyed his presence.
“How are you feeling?” Gust asked as he approached the bed.
Brutus stuck his head in the window at the sound of his voice and whinnied softly.
Gust smiled. “Glad to see you again, too.”
Brutus snorted.
Lance patted Brutus’s neck. “I’m hungry.”
“That’s good. One meal coming up.” Before he left, he gently took the effigy out of Lance’s hands and set it back on the table. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but it’s best to leave such things alone. I’d rather not think what would happen if she was accidently dropped.”
Lance nodded. “Who is she?”
Gust shouldn’t be surprised by Lance’s ignorance but he was accustomed to people knowing Cairon’s gods. “Anknet. She’s the two-faced goddess of healing, and guide for the newly dead. My patron goddess.”
Lance gazed at her, seemingly lost in thought. “The muses are the patrons of healing in Grekenus. And Froya in Swenen. I think.”
“I believe your right,” he said, eager to talk about all the places Lance had traveled. He nearly sat down before he remembered that Lance was hungry.
“I’ll be right back.” He turned and had taken two steps when Lance spoke.
“Will you stay with me while I eat?”
Gust’s heart leapt, and he turned with a large grin. “If you want me to.”
Lance nodded. Still no smile, although his expression lost some of its severity. It would seem he only smiled at Brutus. Gust deeply desired to have that smile turned upon him. Maybe one day.
Gust left and tried and failed to temper his enthusiasm. It was foolish to form an attachment to such a man, and his patient no less. But they could be friends, right? No harm in that. Even Brutus seemed to have warmed up to him. There was little wonder why since, to Brutus, Gust had kept his word and healed his rider. But that didn’t take away from the amazing gift it was. Gust wanted to learn Lance’s story, and he needed his trust to do that. Gust didn’t linger in the kitchen as he normally did and quickly brought two trays of food, since he realized he was also hungry.
When he returned, Lance was standing on wobbly legs and moving around the room.
“Gods,” Gust said and set the trays down. “Sit your ass down.” He grabbed Lance’s arms and shoved him onto the bed. He made sure to keep his focus on Lance’s face and those frosty blue eyes, and not let his gaze wander. Lance was still marked head to toe with livid bruises, and yet there was no mistaking the disciplined, muscled body, or the nicely formed cock that swung free and clear. They really needed to get him some clothes.
“What are you doing?” Gust asked.
Lance looked puzzled. “I need to pee.”
Gust snorted. “Right. Okay. But could you just wait for one of us to be in here with you? Kissa will have my head if you reopen your wounds or get any more bruises.”
Lance appeared to think that over—a look similar to when Brutus thought—and nodded.
Gust helped him to his feet again and shuffled him over to the chamber pot. He steadied Lance around the waist and looked over his shoulder at Brutus as Lance relieved himself. He focused on healing ingredients and how to mix poultices to prevent himself from getting an erection. Lance was warm and hard and so damn handsome. The swelling in his face had gone down significantly, and his skin was only slightly discolored, revealing a strong nose, sharp cheekbones, and a sturdy chin.
“I’m done.”
Gust blew out a breath and returned him to the bed. He drew up the covers over Lance’s lap and then brought the food over. He dragged the chair next to the bed and sat with his own food.
“So, you’ve traveled a lot, haven’t you?” Gust asked.
Lance shrugged, shoving half a biscuit in his mouth.
“Have you been to both Grekenus and Swenen?”
He nodded.
Gust tried to swallow his frustration. “I’ve always wanted to travel. To see what else the empire can offer. To see the other cultures and learn about their gods.”
Lance frowned. “But you’re safe here.”
“Sometimes safe isn’t enough.”
Still frowning, Lance appeared confused. Brutus snorted. Lance looked back to his food and continued to eat.
Gust swallowed a large bite of meat, trying to hide his awkwardness and coughed slightly. He sipped some water.
“So, you got any family we should try to track down?” he asked.
“No.”
Gust waited. Lance said nothing else. “Um, right. Any friends?”
“No.”
Gust frowned. “Where did you come from?”
Lance considered him. Gust couldn’t even guess what was going on behind those blue eyes.
“Where am I?” he asked.
“The town of Thebys. We’re about a week’s ride from Apys, the capital city of Cairon to the east.”
Lance nodded slowly. “I was near the border between Cairon and Grekenus.”
Gust stared. Well, at least he wasn’t with Ragel. “Damn. It takes about two weeks of non-stop travel to get from there to here. How did no one notice you? How did you stay on Brutus?”
Divine animal, indeed.
Lance shrugged. “I told Brutus to get me away from where I was and he did. He knows all the back roads. And he would never let me fall.”
Silence fell between them as Gust contemplated Lance’s words. Well, a divine animal would be the best companion, no doubt. What sort of magic could the horse harness? Too soon to ask.
Gust kept his voice low and calm as he asked, “Why were you beaten? Who made you run the gauntlet?”
Appearing utterly confused again, Lance turned his head and frowned hard. “How did you know?”
“I guessed, actually. I knew you were—are—a warrior, and the beating… well, I just had a hunch.”
Lance tilted his head, staring. It was eerie to be stared at with such bright eyes, set in that blank face. Gust set his food aside and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his thighs.
“Can I ask you about it?”
Lance returned his attention to Brutus. He shrugged again.
Gust took that as assent. “Did you travel with a rebellious prince or a warlord?”
“Warlord.”
“Who?”
Lance shook his head.
Gust swallowed disappointment. Go slow. “Does he know you’re alive?”
“He knows I lived after the gauntlet. But now? I don’t know.”
Gust winced. “You survived the gauntlet so doesn’t that mean he should leave you alone?”
Lance met his gaze again, his own sharp. “He has no honor and only follows his own rules. He only worships the gods of chaos and war. He will be determined to find out my fate. That is why I must leave. He will come for me to finish the job. If he finds me with you then your entire town will go up in flames. No one will be spared.”
A cold shudder ran through Gust. One of his town’s greatest fears might come true. “I believe you. But you can’t leave right now. You’re not strong enough. He won’t come looking for you here, not yet. You’ve been here a few days and no one has reported any foreign warlord nearby. I’m certain he hasn’t found your trail.”
“Do not underestimate him.” The hollow, chilled tone had Gust clenching his fists tightly.
“It would be helpful if I knew who he was.”
Lance closed his eyes and pressed his face to Brutus’s nose. “No, it wouldn’t.”
“Lance?”
He cracked open his eyes.
“It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” He slowly reached across the small distance and laid his hand on top of Lance’s. Old scars bumped his palms, and he felt the strength in each finger.
Lance’s eyes widened at the contact, and he froze like a deer caught unawares. Then he slowly lowered his gaze and stared at their hands. Gust didn’t move. Something was going on inside that strange head, and Gust didn’t want to do anything to spook him.
Lance moved his hand and placed it on top of Gust’s before turning Gust’s hand palm up and staring at it. Gust frowned, curious and confused.
“You are so dark,” Lance murmured.
Gust said nothing. Lance placed their palms together and linked their fingers. Gust’s heart hammered against his ribs, and he struggled to keep his breath even. How could such an innocent touch affect him so acutely? Then Lance raised their joined hands, staring at them as if they were a puzzle to be solved.
“Why are people so different?” he asked softly.
“Pardon?”
“Warriors. Healers. Cruel. Kind. Why is one person so different from another?”
Gust blinked. “Um… well, the minstrels tell us that in the Beginning, there was only chaotic energy. Snet ruled. But then his siblings grew in power, and Osys and Ysys overpowered him and created order. They molded the sky and the earth and fashioned nature while Batsa created animals. Snet was furious and fought them at every turn. But together, Osys and Ysys were stronger and united. Unfortunately, Snet was devious and managed to catch Osys alone one day and killed him. He cut him up into millions of pieces and flung him across the world and skies. Ysys was overcome with grief. Snet tried to seduce her but she rejected him. Snet then raped her, and Ysys gave birth to Anknet. Mother and daughter then searched all over for pieces of Osys. Ysys put him back together, and Anknet helped give him life. Ysys and Osys then mated and created a son, Hoksys. But Osys was not alive, merely undead. He resides in the underworld with Anknet and Mawn. Hoksys and Ysys are responsible for humans but with Snet in the world, balance is not always achievable. Hoksys vies against his uncle but Snet is too powerful. And with Osys bound to the underworld, he can’t unite with Ysys to completely beat back chaos. Snet corrupts those that desire imbalance and seduces the unsatisfied and unwary.
“I think that’s why one person can be so different from another. The gods created us and they are in all things, the wind, the earth and sky, the water. Their wills are so vastly different from another, and we are sometimes powerless to stop their influence.”
Lance still held his hand and gazed at his face, expressionless but intent. Even Brutus seemed to listen with rapt attention, his chin on the windowsill, his ears straight and tall.
Gust took in Lance’s expression and squeezed his hand. “What troubles you?”
Lance lowered his gaze. “I’m tired,” he said abruptly.
Gust jerked at the brisk tone. “Uh, okay. I’ll just—”
Lance scooted down in the bed and continued to cling to Gust’s hand. Gust scrambled when Lance lay on his side, pressing Gust’s hand to his chest. He closed his eyes tightly, and Gust realized there was no way he was getting his hand back without a fierce struggle. Gust was halfway bent over, staring at Lance’s face. Gust glanced over to the window. Brutus had disappeared.
“Um. Right.” Guess he could take a nap as well. Gust carefully lay on the bed on his side, face-to-face with Lance. They both barely fit. As soon as he settled, Lance pushed forward and tucked his head under Gust’s chin, pressing his body close. Gust’s breath hitched. He didn’t feel any erection from Lance, and the strange, innocent quality made Gust wonder if he was caring for a child in a man’s body.
Was it innocence? If not then something similar and equally precious. So he laid his other arm across Lance’s waist, giving him the comfort he so obviously sought and yet couldn’t ask for. Lance’s breathing slowed and soon he was sleeping.
Gust closed his eyes and drifted just above a deep sleep.