Healing Lance (A Warrior's Redemption 1)

by M. D. Grimm

  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 st
ay 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. S
net 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.