Gust wasn’t sure what in the gods’ name he was doing but his feelings for Lance kept growing deeper. He eyed Lance who lay beside them on the soft grass. Lance had erected the tent since rain was expected in the early morning. But right now, the sky was clear and the stars brightly visible. Brutus laid at their heads, staring off into the distance.
“The constellations are bright tonight,” Gust whispered, breaking the calm silence.
Lance glanced at him. “Constellations?”
Gust frowned. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, and the added starlight allowed him to clearly see Lance’s face. He appeared confused and curious. His usual expression.
“The stars form shapes.”
Lance stared up again, frown deepening.
“No one taught you to stargaze?”
Lance shrugged. “Why would they bother? I was a weapon, nothing more.”
Sadness and pity weighed down Gust’s heart. He scooted closer and pressed their faces together. Lance caught his breath and said nothing. Gust took Lance’s hand and raised it, pressing their forefingers together so they both pointed to the sky.
“This is Uros,” Gust said as he traced the outline of one of the constellations. “He’s the great bear, first of Batsa’s children. Next to him is Wuldros, the giant wolf, his brother. It is told that they used to be friends before jealousy broke them apart. Jealousy flamed by the wraiths, the dreaded children of Snet and Mawn. The wraiths are sisters who flourish during the night and give humans bad dreams. They prey on children and the sickly. They love nothing and yet they do not hate, either. They are hungry and greedy, always wanting more. They don’t have a constellation. It is said that they are the black between stars, not visible until they see a tasty mortal they want to eat.”
Gust continued to trace different constellations and tell Lance about their origins as well as expanding on stories about star clusters they couldn’t see. Lance listened silently, gaze rapt on the stars, awe glimmering in his eyes.
“The moon is the child of Anknet, produced without a mate. The sun is the product of Hoksys, springing from his brow. Both the sun and the moon ride a chariot across the sky. But the moon must go fast and take different routes since she is constantly pursued by the children of Wuldros. They were corrupted by the wraiths with an undying hunger to destroy the moon’s light. If they ever catch her, the moon’s light will vanish forever.
Lance gulped.
Gust lowered their hands to Lance’s chest and fell silent. His parents had told him all those stories, one each night until he was no longer a child. He found great enjoyment in sharing them with his friend.
“Now you know the constellations,” Gust said softly.
“Thank you,” Lance whispered.
Gust laid his cheek on Lance’s shoulder, even knowing the danger—he was far too comfortable and the feeling of safety was something he hadn’t felt since his parents were alive. Gust interlaced their fingers and Lance squeezed. Lance’s chest moved slightly as he breathed, and he was warm. He smelled nice.
A drop of rain splattered against Gust’s cheek. He sighed.
“We best get inside before we’re soaked.” He looked at Brutus. “Will he be all right out here?”
Lance snorted, much like his horse, and sat up, still holding Gust’s hand. “He’s not afraid of a little rain. Are you, boy?”
Brutus nickered and shook his mane. He stood when they did and set up a guard once Lance and Gust retreated into the tent. The rain came swiftly and was a light drizzle instead of a downpour. The pitter-patter had a lulling affect, and it wasn’t long before Lance was breathing heavily, his body limp with sleep.
Gust stared at the roof of the tent, lost in thought. While they slept innocently side-by-side, there was no way Gust could ignore the sheer presence of Lance. Brutus’s saddle and bridle sat inside the tent, making it a tight squeeze for the two of them.
Lance muttered something in his sleep before rolling over on his side and wrapping an arm around Gust’s waist. His breath hitched before calming as Lance continued to snore softly. He gently touched Lance’s larger hand, feeling the scars, the calluses, imagining a pale blond child being trained by a savage monster. Lance had such a great capacity for love and kindness.
Before Gust had told him about the stars, Lance had recounted his encounter with Lukman. Gust had nearly burst with pride at Lance’s actions. He could have killed Lukman without much effort, and yet he chose mercy over aggression. And the reason for it?
“You didn’t like it when I hurt Dakar,” Lance had said with gaze averted. “I didn’t think you’d like it if I hurt Lukman.”
By the gods, Lance could be taught!
Gust gingerly rolled over and gazed at Lance’s sleeping face. That odd innocence and curiosity called to something inside Gust. Something protective. Despite the violence Lance must have faced at Ulfr’s hands, he was still so childlike. He needed to be guided, to be shown how to be a good man.
Should Gust be the one to do it?
“I care about you,” Gust whispered. “I care far more than I should.”
Lance, still asleep, pushed closer as if responding to his words. He pressed his face into Gust’s chest and tightened his hold. Gust smiled as his heart ached. He laid an arm over Lance’s waist and closed his eyes, soothed by Lance’s gentle snoring.
Gust winced as Lance smacked the sword out of Jabari hand and tripped him. Jabari thudded to the ground with an oomph and then Lance held the tip of his blade to his throat.
“Don’t let your guard down,” Lance said, only slightly panting.
Jabari gasped for air, glaring at him.
Lance stepped back before scanning those he trained. “Show no mercy because mercy will not be shown to you. Not one of Ulfr’s gang has any heart or conscious left to them. Many of the women are more vicious than the men, and not one will hesitate to cut you down. All the rumors you’ve heard about Ulfr are true. Believe every single word. This is not a game.”
He sounded angry. Gust frowned at that. So did the sheriff. Lance sheathed his sword before holding out a hand to Jabari. Jabari stared at it for a second before gripping it and letting Lance pull him to his feet. Lance patted Jabari shoulder before striding away. Gust stared at his retreating back as Kafele took over the training. The sun was setting on the seventh day since Ragel’s arrival and death, and Gust knew his people were becoming restless, wavering between desiring Ulfr’s arrival to get it over with, and dreading it with each passing day. He could arrive at any time.
Lord Semesy’s soldiers had yet to arrive, and there was still no answer from Lord Khepi. Another messenger and been sent to both that morning. Fear was visceral and hovered like a thick cloud over Thebys. The council sent scouts to several larger villages and towns in all directions to make sure they received some warning before his arrival, and to warn those places that Ulfr might soon darken their streets.
Perhaps Lance was feeling edgy as well, which would explain the anger. Despite never saying it, he had to be feeling some fear or trepidation. To come face-to-face with the man who’d brutally trained him, then nearly killed him, and now hunted him wasn’t something taken lightly. There might even be some guilt in there as well. Lance had mentioned his regret for bringing Ulfr’s attention down on their heads. Many of the townsfolk hadn’t forgiven him for that.
Gust was feeling his own trepidation upon seeing face-to-face the man that slaughtered his parents. Despite Lance’s reassurances that Scourge was just a man in armor, Gust wasn’t so sure. He had to be the spawn of Mawn. Ulfr might have ordered the kill but Scourge….
Gust swallowed hard.
Scourge had carried those orders out. The priestess of that village had told him everything, and he remembered every single word acutely.
Ulfr might be Lance’s problem in battle but Scourge belonged to him.
Gust shook his head, locking those thoughts back up in a box.
At least Lance was fully healed, and he had several new scars to add to his collection. Gust found them far too intriguing. He burned with curiosity as to their origins but kept his mouth shut. He highly doubted Lance would want to talk about his past, especially when Gust kept telling him to look to his future.
Gust helped other trainees clean up the training area and then encouraged them to get some food and a good night’s sleep. He smiled with pride at his people. They were really coming along. Many had training already, and Lance’s techniques sharpened their skills, and his knowledge of Ulfr and his tactics proved invaluable and gave Thebys’s people confidence and hope.
Sheriff Kafele was now grunting amiably every time he saw Lance, although the council continued to be reserved in their dealings with him. Lukman still wanted him hanged while Gamall watched Lance with a tolerant eye. The younger councilors were slightly warmer although considering Lance was the reason for Ulfr’s arrival, it would seem only Gust considered him a friend. Well, except for Ally, that is. She seemed quite taken with Lance as if he was her long-lost little brother. Lance always appeared surprised and grateful for her attention, as if still not certain why she liked him.
The stone walls around the town at the top of the hill were nearing completion. They wouldn’t stop Ulfr’s charge if he was truly determined to kill them all, and yet it would at least be another obstacle to overcome, one that could give Thebys just enough advantage to win the day, or at least prevent a wholesale slaughter. There were future plans, once Ulfr was dealt with, to build walls and a gate around the town. Something that should have happened a long time ago.
Gust followed Lance’s route, hoping to confront him about his anger. Hoping to help. He passed the bakery, and his stomach rumbled as the heavenly smells wafted out of the windows. He stopped in and bought several pastries from Ansi who tried to keep him with humorous stories about his newest child. Gust gave him just enough time for two before he had to bow out. It warmed his heart and eased his mind to see Ansi so jovial. Despite the dark shadow bearing down on them, Ansi seemed to focus on being besotted by his daughter. Well, it was more productive than him being anxious over everything and ruining his health.
Gust made a second stop into the tavern to trade a couple of the pastries for two flasks of ale. Atema eyed him from his chair.
“You shouldn’t get too attached to that warrior. He won’t stick around after he makes good on his word and kills Ulfr. He doesn’t belong here.”
“That’s no reason not to be nice to him,” Gust said. “How about treating him decently? It doesn’t hurt us to treat him the way we would any visitor.”
“He isn’t exactly a visitor.”
Gust glared at him before taking the flasks and striding out of the tavern. Ignorant jerk. He took a few steadying breaths before heading for the field, figuring it was a good place to start to find Lance. He was right. Gust stopped short and his eyes widened as Lance and Brutus galloped across the flat field. Wow, could that horse move!
Lance’s honey blond hair streaked behind him, his pale skin reflecting the sun’s dying rays. His coloring was in stark contrast to his gray horse, yet they were so similar in temperament. They moved together as one, one mind, one spirit. Brutus’s hooves thundered across the land, his dark eyes filled with fierce life, his nostrils flaring for air. Lance’s eyes were blue fire, his body crouched and tight, his mouth pulled into a grim line.
Their grace mesmerized Gust as they raced around the field. Brutus easily pounced over the modest tent in the middle of the meadow, and Gust suspected the horse could soar high and far if given the opportunity and motivation.
After a few more minutes of hard galloping, Brutus slowed and Lance straightened. They trotted a little bit before coming to stop near the tent. Lance heaved a sigh and dismounted. He tugged a few times at his clothes before stroking Brutus’s neck. He spoke softly to him, and Gust couldn’t catch the words since they were too far away. He didn’t like the look in Lance’s eyes.
Brutus nickered and bumped his large nose against Lance’s face. With a strained laugh, Lance playfully shoved his head away. Then he swiftly removed saddle and bridle, the movements practiced and efficient. He didn’t struggle with the saddle the way Gust had.
Gust stepped forward, careful to make noise so he wouldn’t be sneaking up on them. Lance stiffened and looked over his shoulder. It pleased Gust that Lance relaxed when he recognized him and he even smiled a little. Brutus trotted up and bumped his shoulder before nosing at the bag in his hand.
Gust laughed and kept the bag of pastries out of reach. “No, no. This is not for you. However,”—he pulled half an apple out of his pocket, and Brutus stomped his foot and swished his tail in excitement— “This is for you.”
Brutus eagerly took the half apple from his palm and then trotted away. Gust snickered before smiling at Lance. Lance still had that same small smile on his face, though his eyes were shielded, all emotion hidden.
Gust walked up to him and held out one of the flasks of ale. “I got this for you.”
Lance blinked at it and kept his hands at his sides. “You don’t have to get me anything.”
“Friends sometimes do this for each other,” Gust gently explained. “It’s to show appreciation and to strengthen the bond. Remember how you gave me that little bear at the festival? This is not so different. I like you, Lance. Please take it.”
Lance hesitated for another moment before taking the flask. Then Gust opened the bag of pastries, and heat and scent wafted out. Lance moaned.
Gust chuckled and held out a particularly fat and gooey piece of bliss. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Lance said quietly before taking it. He took a deep sniff before shoving half of it into his mouth and biting down. A deep groan rumbled out of him that time, and the sound zinged down to Gust’s groin. His cock thickened, hardened, and he had to swallow his own groan. He took a large gulp of ale and forced his eyes away from the pure ecstasy on Lance’s face. Damn. What would he look like during the throes of sex? Would he be forceful and dominant or laid back and submissive? Gust couldn’t begin to guess. There was a lot to Lance, much of it still hidden.
They ate without speaking. When Gust offered Lance another pastry, Lance looked longingly at it before shaking his head.
“Come on, you know you want it,” Gust said playfully. He held it under Lance’s nose temptingly, teasingly. “Give in, Lance. You know you can’t fight it. Give in to your desire.”
Lance snorted a laugh before meeting Gust’s eyes. Then his expression turned serious, and there must have been some grim thoughts wizzing around behind those eyes. Gust frowned and lowered his arm.
“What’s wrong?”
Lance opened his mouth. Shut it. Looked away.
“Hey.” He gently touched Lance’s arm. “You can tell me. Did I do something?”
Lance shook his head, watching Brutus.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No.” Lance looked back and touched Gust’s hand that was still on his arm. “I like you here. I like you here with me.”
Gust’s heart banged against his ribs and he smiled. “I like you here with me, too.”
Lance looked awkward for a moment before he slightly spread his arms. “Can I, um, can I…?”
It took Gust a moment before everything inside him softened. Gust returned the pastry to the bag before setting it and the flask down. Then he stepped closer. “Of course.”
Lance hugged him tightly and pressed his face into the crook of Gust’s neck. His warm breath against his skin made Gust shudder and swallow hard. He gripped Lance close and gently stroked his back. What was going on inside that odd head of his?
Lance trembled and squeezed tighter.
Gust frowned and patted his back.
“He’s coming.”
Gust jerked at his soft words. “What?”
“Ulfr. He’s close. I just know it. My gut tells me he knows where I am, and it won’t be long now.”
Gust swallowed hard and closed his eyes, pressing his face into Lance’s shoulder. Maybe that was why Lance was on edge all day. Gust had no reason to doubt Lance’s gut and fear made him tremble as well.
Lance must have felt it because he stroked a hand tenderly down Gust’s head, calluses scraping over his braids. Gust tightened his fists in Lance’s tunic. Then Lance cupped the back of Gust’s head as the other hand bunched a large knot of Gust’s tunic. He pressed even closer and Gust felt every bit of that hard body smashed against his own, from head to knee. Gust’s cock thickened, and there was no way he could shift away. He flushed hot and attempted to pull back but Lance had him in an iron hold.
“Don’t let him hurt you,” Lance whispered roughly, right against his ear.
Gust bit back a groan as Lance’s warm breath tickled his sensitive skin.
“Stay with the archers on the roofs. I will deal with Ulfr. He’s mine. He won’t touch you, I swear to the gods.” A violent shudder ran through Lance. “Gods, I can’t lose you.”
His voice deepened, thickened, the emotions plain to hear. And the fear. Not for himself but for Gust.
“You won’t,” Gust whispered. “You won’t lose me, my friend. But I don’t want to lose you either. So you fight with everything you have and you kill that bastard. For yourself. For me. For every single person whose life he’s taken. Understand?”
Lance nodded frantically. “I promise.”
Gust finally managed to pull away and, before he lost his nerve, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Lance’s cheek. He still needed to shave. Lance’s sharp intake of breath had Gust flushing. He pulled all the way back and stepped away, breaking their connection. Lance stared at him in shock before lifting a hand and touching his cheek.
Emotion flooded Gust’s throat and he swallowed hard. “Has no one ever kissed you?”
Lance shook his head.
Gust took a deep breath. “Well, then.” He stepped closer and kissed Lance’s other cheek. “Now you have two kisses.”
Lance blinked slowly before raising his other hand and touching that cheek. Then he smiled, and when he looked at Gust, the warmth and adoration was visible even in the dying light of the sun.
Gust’s heart hammered against his chest, and he wanted to kiss more. He wanted to devour those soft lips, to find out his taste, to feel that hard body against his own. To feel those calluses scrape over him. Images burst forth in his mind, and he had to look away to rein in his fantasies. Whoa there.
He knew desire had been growing steadily since the moment Lance had opened his eyes in the healing hut, since the moment their gazes had met. But he realized now it was one-sided. As their bodies were pressed together, he never felt Lance grow hard. Perhaps he wasn’t capable of physical intimacy. His mind was childlike after all, and children didn’t think about sex.
He was jerked out his thoughts when Lance kissed his cheeks in return. Those soft lips and scratchy beard alternately aroused and tickled. Lance pulled back with a smile and squeezed Gust’s shoulders before stepping away and picking up his flask from where he dropped it. He took a large swig and Gust couldn’t look away. He acutely felt where those lips touched him and he wanted more.
“Let’s have dinner in the tavern,” Gust said, needing a distraction from his wayward, hopeless thoughts. “I think it would be good for my people to see you outside of training. To see you be like one of them.”
“Okay,” Lance said, still smiling. His trust in Gust was humbling.
Gust grabbed his flask and bag as Lance told Brutus where they were going. They ate the last of the pastries as they walked back into town and toward the tavern.
They sat at the same table as during the festival, and Gust ordered food and drink for them. He greeted several of the patrons as he made his way back to Lance. Unfortunately, many gave him disapproving looks, a few shaking their heads. His friendship with Lance certainly caused tension if not a rift. Kissa was more reserved with him now and even the other healers and their apprentices didn’t seem to know how to act around him anymore. He managed to ignore it for the most part since he was preoccupied with training and helping Lance. He wished they allowed themselves to see Lance the way he saw him.
When the music and storytelling started, Lance fully relaxed, though his posture was attentive as always. He was still on alert, a constant state for him. Gust frequently glanced at him and was glad to see him with clear eyes and a smiling face. He didn’t enjoy himself enough, and with Ulfr darkening their future, Gust wanted Lance to remember what joy and life were. So he knew what he was fighting for.
Two more singers followed the first, then an older man stood, swaying slightly with drink, and recited a comical story about a weary traveler, a donkey, and a talking ferret.
Once he sat down and everyone quieted their laughter, a baby-faced minstrel stood. He wore colorful clothing, suitably loud for one of his guild. He swept his arms to his sides, emphasizing his words.
“We are tasked with a great burden, my friends. Good people of Thebys, you are called to defend yourselves and your home from those that wish it harm. The troubles of Grekenus will soon become ours, and we will meet it head-on with courage and cunning. For no one can stand against us, the blessed of the gods, not even the black sea wolf of Grekenus and his weapon, the deadly Scourge.”
Gust’s stomach dropped and he vaguely felt Lance stiffen beside him. He was too wrapped up in his own struggle to control his emotions to notice his friend’s reaction. He wanted to throw his tankard at the minstrel and tell him to sit his ass down. The rest of the tavern, however, leaned forward, intent on his words that might alleviate their own anxieties.
“It is unknown from whence Scourge came. Some say the sea wolf known as Ulfr, Mad Blackwolf, summoned the creature from the underworld, as if the beast was a child of Mawn the Devourer. Or perhaps the creature that looks like a man but is not one, came from Snet himself. Just as Appep was spawned from the two fiercest deities. Those of Grekenus call their god of war and chaos Marsus. For surely Scourge is just that—a bringer of misery and war, an affliction that sweeps across the land, devastating all those in its path. A monster of the darkest and deepest bowels of the world.
“Yet Ulfr, my friends, is a man. Just a man. He is vicious and cruel, much like a monster of Snet or Mawn himself, and yet he can be defeated. He can be brought low. He bleeds as we do, he eats and shats the same as us. Yet it is he who directs the monstrous Scourge. Perhaps when we, the people of Cairon, destroy Ulfr, we will destroy Scourge. What say you?”
Shouts and cheers answered him.
“When we destroy the beast’s master, will we not rid this empire of its affliction?”
More cheers.
“We, the people of Thebys, loyal subjects to the queens Cleptra and Sifus of Cairon, will be known far and wide as the slayers of the sea wolf and his great weapon!”
The crowd roared. Then the minstrel picked up his lute and broke into song. It appeared to be a known gig the minstrel might have picked up in or near Grekenus from one of their bards. Gust fought against his need to vomit. All he could see was his parents. He was going to smack the minstrel at the first opportunity.
“Let me tell you a tale of a sea wolf king
A braggard who raided the western seas
With his warband-a-ready and his axes keen
The villainous, infamous, Mad Blackwolf
Born in Swenen anonymously
Bastard offspring
And a cutthroat plunderer
He shunned polite society
For the love of riches and gold
So Mad Blackwolf headed to the sea
Grekenus calling
Civil war raging
Sailed off to a life of piracy
With his crew, to bloody, the sea!
Let me tell you a tale of a sea wolf king
A braggard who raided the western seas
With his warband-a-ready and his axes keen
The villainous, infamous, Mad Blackwolf
But there was a tool he was missing
A spawn of menace
A spawn of darkness
A weapon to sweep across the land
A black armored beast
Oh he looted and slaughtered and scorched black the land
With axes cleaving
And swords heaving
He assaulted Grekenus mercilessly
Oh Mad Blackwolf
Then he ordered his dog to attack
To spread warning
To make cowering
So the beast created a bloody sea
To be Scourge the Blackwolf’s dog…”
Gust tuned out the words as best he could and turned to Lance to see if they could sneak out. It was only then that he saw how pale his friend appeared, even in the dim light. His eyes were wide and terrified. His own sickness forgotten, Gust reached out.
“Lance?”
When he didn’t respond, Gust touched his arm. Lance jumped as if he was attacked and shot to his feet.
“Lance?” Gust said again, firmer this time.
Several people looked their way, scowling at the distraction. The minstrel was too caught up in his own words to notice them.
Lance glanced at Gust before he turned sharply and ran out the door. Gust stumbled to his feet and hurried after him. When he charged outside, he couldn’t find him anywhere.