by M. D. Grimm
Gust sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He observed his town, the beginnings of activity. His people. His home.
His people and home that Lance had helped protect.
Despite it being home he’d never wanted to spend his entire life here. From his earliest days he’d always been antsy to see the rest of the empire, to explore and discover, and to meet new people and observe their customs. He had friends but not a best friend or anyone, besides his aunt, who he was particularly close to. There were times he felt constrained by the demands of his town and pressured to do exactly what was expected of him and nothing more. He didn’t want what they wanted.
Lance didn’t want to be Scourge, and now was his opportunity to redeem himself.
Gust had never bonded with anyone as thoroughly as he’d bonded with Lance. Mandissa had said this was fated by the gods. Their friendship, Lance’s appearance, and Ulfr. Then there was Brutus.
Gust looked at the sky and for a moment felt his parents kneeling beside him. He smelled his mother’s perfume and felt his father’s strong hand grip his shoulder. His parents, whatever else they were, had been kind, forgiving people always willing to help those who needed it and wanted it. Always willing to grant second chances to those who truly wanted to better themselves. They’d been open-hearted and patient, and filled with love and hope.
He heard them speak.
Help him for us.
Gust swallowed hard and resisted the sob that wanted to break free from his throat. No. No more. He’d wept enough for them. For everyone. Now was the time to act.
Lance was a friend and he was in need. Gust was a healer and his job wasn’t done yet. On that thought alone, Gust leapt to his feet and, despite his fatigue, raced down the slope, heart pounding in anxiety and hope.
Dear gods, let me be making the right decision.
“How can you do this?” Kissa shouted.
Gust shoved food into his bag that was already heavy with a few extra tunics, a pair of breeches, a few personal items he couldn’t live without, and small jars of different healing herbs.
“I have to.”
“You have to? What in the gods’ name does that mean?” She gripped his arm. “You listen to me, Gustum, I will not let you go off with that monster. I already lost my brother and your mother, and I will not lose you as well.”
“He won’t hurt me.”
“You bull-headed—”
Gust gripped Kissa’s arms and looked her straight in the eye. “My parents would want this. You know that as well as I do. Lance was a victim of Ulfr’s cruelty and molded into Scourge. Then he came across a baby and saved not only her but her mother as well. That’s what started it all. A baby, Aunt. She laughed at him and he felt something.”
“He’s lying to you. He has to be.” Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her face as her voice lost power.
“No, he’s not. He’s never lied to me. Not even about being Scourge. If I’d asked him, straight out, he would have told me. I’m certain of it. You’ve looked into his eyes, Aunt. You’ve seen what I’ve seen. I have to help him. I have to help him protect others against the pain you and I have suffered.”
She stared at him in silence for a long moment. “Does he know?”
Gust cleared his throat and turned to grab his pack. He didn’t have to ask what she meant. “No.”
“Will you tell him?”
“I don’t know.”
She gave him a wet kiss on the cheek. “May the gods bless you and keep you safe, my love. I still think you’re making a horrible choice, but you have to make the journey on your own terms.”
Gust kissed her cheek in return and managed to give her a strained smile. “I love you.”
She sighed. “I love you as well.”
“I will come back.”
She only nodded listlessly.
He touched her shoulder one last time before leaving. He stepped outside and took a detour before joining Lance. He hurried to Ramsis’s shop and found a detailed map of Cairon. Even as the cartographer attempted to make small talk, Gust shoved the docets into his hand and dashed out. He rolled the map and put it in his pack before making his way to the front of the town. Gamall and the rest of the council were speaking to Lance. He wore his black tunic, breeches, and sandals, the dark colors giving him a rugged look which was emphasized by the sword strapped to his hip. Brutus stood nearby with saddle and bridle, looking eager to be gone. It would seem a few people had supplied Lance for his journey since his saddlebags appeared full. Lance’s stance was non-threatening and he nodded at whatever Gamall was saying. Gust was too far away to hear them.
It surprised Gust when Gamall held out his hand and Lance clasped it. At least he wasn’t being aggressively kicked out. A few of the council members—especially Lukman—looked rather disappointed that such an event wasn’t happening. Then the council backed away and that was when Gust noticed Ally.
Lance turned to her and made to take the sword off his hip. Ally shook her head and touched his hand. She said something that made Lance noticeably straighten and he nodded. They clasped hands before she patted his shoulder and then turned away to return to her forge. Lance took a breath and moved to Brutus, swiftly mounting him.
For a moment Gust’s voice stuck in his throat. For a moment he hesitated, doubted. Then he shook himself and stepped forward when Lance picked up the reins.
“Lance!”
He turned and eyed Gust, expression still blank.
“Got room for one more?” Gust managed a smile and ignored the gasps and whispers from the council and the rest of the audience come to see Lance leave. “Thought you could use some help.”
Lance’s expression broke and a wide, joyful grin split his face and brightened his eyes. He appeared so much younger than mere seconds ago. Gust was stunned for a moment and knew he’d made the right decision. Gust continued walking until he stood near Brutus, who danced a little, apparently just as excited as his master.
“Really?” Lance searched his face. “Are you sure? I don’t know what’s going to happen or what I will face. And I want you safe.”
Gust raised an eyebrow and kept his tone light despite the emotions whirling inside. “I’m not helpless.” He gestured to his quiver and bow. “I also have you and Brutus. You’ll protect me, right?”
Lance nodded vigorously. “Yes! Of course, we will!”
Brutus stamped his foot and snorted in agreement.
“So I have nothing to worry about.” Except for everything, that is.
Lance continued to grin as he reached down, holding out a hand.
Gust eyed Brutus. “He can handle both of us?” Sure, Brutus had borne both of them before, and yet this adventure might prove to be a marathon, and he didn’t have enough money to purchase another horse.
Brutus tossed his head and flicked his tail.
Lance chuckled. “Don’t insult him.”
“Right. Apologies, Brutus.” He should have known better. Divine animal. Eventually he might stop questioning what Brutus can do. With a fortifying breath, Gust grabbed Lance’s hand and let himself be pulled up and onto the saddle. It was certainly a snug and intimate fit, and he couldn’t help but notice Lance’s firm backside pressed against his groin.
“Gust!”
Gamall hurried toward him, followed closely by Atema and Rabia. The other council members stayed back, each wearing an expression of shock. Lukman looked positively horrified with disbelief.
“Don’t do this!” Gamall panted slightly and Atema and Rabia gripped his arms to steady him. “You will be arrested as well.”
Gust frowned and gripped Lance’s waist, tense muscles quivering at his touch. “What are you talking about?”
“We have to send messengers to the earls,” Atema said. “They will tell our queens. We have to let them know that Lance is Scourge. He’s wanted by the emperor himself.”
Lance tensed further and bowed his head. Gust clenche
d his jaw and slid his arms around Lance’s waist, linking his fingers against his stomach.
“We promised to give him a day’s head start,” Gamall continued, “in gratitude for what he did for us. But the authorities will be dogging his steps for his entire life.”
“Think of your aunt!” Rabia said. “Do you want her to lose her nephew as well?”
Only he and Kissa knew that Scourge had killed his parents. The rest only knew that Ulfr was responsible for their deaths. Gust glared at Rabia, warning her silently to shut up. “This is my choice. Lance is no longer Scourge and we’re going to prove it. He needs my help.”
Lance sat up straighter and looked over his shoulder. Their gazes met and naked affection showed in Lance’s eyes. Gust smiled despite the pit in his stomach. He was choosing his fate with eyes wide open and never would he turn and run away.
Lance’s eyes were not a monster’s eyes.
After a moment Gust tore his gaze away and nodded his head respectfully to the three council members.
“Goodbye. I will pray that the gods bless this place.”
“We will pray for you,” Rabia said. After a moment’s hesitation she added, “And for you, Lance.”
Lance nodded, smiling slightly.
Gust’s heart pierced with the severing of his ties to Thebys. He had no idea when he might return. If he ever would.
He leaned closer to Lance. “Let’s go and do some good.”
Lance brightened and faced forward. He clicked his tongue, and Brutus reared up in an impressive display before shooting off like an arrow. Gust squealed and squeezed Lance’s waist, hanging on for dear life.
Lance laughed.
It was boisterous, from deep in the gut. The first true laugh Gust had ever heard from him. It was careless and free, as innocent as a child’s, and as warm as a fire during a cold night.
Gust turned around and watched his home shrink into the distance. Then he pressed his cheek to Lance’s back and closed his eyes, waiting for the unknowable future to greet them.
Epilogue
Ylva used her last seer stone to contact her father. She sat at a table in one of the guest rooms in Lord Khepi’s manor. She spoke the divine word and then his full name, including his title. She sat back and waited, flipping her dagger in her hand and staring at the wall. It hadn’t been a complete failure, although she still regretted losing two seer stones because of that brute. It was the price paid for creating a mystic bridge between destinations. The gate stayed open for a limited amount of time, and it was impossible to collect the stones before it closed. Plus, the stones were then depleted of their divinity, rendering them useless. That was why it was highly encouraged they only be used for communication not travel.
She scowled. Lord Khepi didn’t have any either, the cheapskate.
“Ylva.”
She bent forward and smiled. Pride and loyalty beat in her heart as she stared at his familiar, beloved face. Her loyalty was to her father, first and foremost. Even above the gods. His cunning and intelligence was her inspiration, and her greatest hope was that one day he would name her as his heir and she would inherit everything.
Lord Jorvikr had a round, jovial face, and a soft body. His voice was light in timbre and only when they were alone did she hear the keen edge to it. She appreciated the glint of his dark eyes and the contrast between his appearance and his true person. He and her mother had trained her and her sisters to handle their affairs in other kingdoms and to keep their various pawns in play and under control.
“Good evening, Father. I have much to tell you.” She relished speaking and hearing her native tongue, Nord, having gone months without it.
“Where are you?”
“With Lord Khepi in Cairon.” She then explained all that had transpired since arriving in Ulfr’s camp in Grekenus days ago. Lord Jorvikr listened silently, expression inscrutable.
“Ulfr failed for the last time,” he said.
“Aye. Lord Khepi was wise enough to ignore the pleas from Thebys and took care of the messenger. He remembered our deal from years before. However, Lord Semesy did send soldiers and Ulfr ambushed and defeated them. Semesy sent them before I could reach him, and I decided against revealing our enterprise. Therefore, he has nothing to report to his queens. Although, I suspect the town will send messengers to Semesy who will contact the queens and tell them all about Ulfr’s deeds and those of Scourge. The dog will be hunted.”
Silence fell for a moment.
“Ulfr was weak,” Lord Jorvikr said.
She said nothing as she completely agreed.
“Scourge is not.” He considered her with eyes as dark and hard as obsidian. “He’s a dog without a master and thinks he’s a hero.”
“If I may?”
He nodded.
“From what I learned from Ulfr and observed during the battle at Thebys, Scourge has the mind of a child and the reflexes of a warrior. I believe he could be moldable if his companion was separated from him.”
“The healer.” Derision dripped from his words.
She inclined her head. “Aye. A minstrel passed by a tavern nearby, and I caught what he said to some avid listeners. The healer’s name is Gust and they appear quite attached.” She barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Right now the dog wants to be a hero but children are fickle creatures with short attention spans. He could grow bored. Careless. I heard just today from Khepi’s scouts that Lance is now actively hunting and killing Ulfr’s warriors. He appears set on his mission. It’s only a matter of time before the queens’ soldiers find him. I suspect that the right words in his ear might bend him back to where we need him.”
Lord Jorvikr smiled slightly, brow cocked. “Are you offering to deliver those words yourself?”
She allowed herself to smile wide and sharp. “If you command it, consider it done. I admit that I would be interested in seeing more of Scourge—Lance—in action for myself.”
In fact, she wasn’t ashamed to say her desire had peeked when watching Lance duel Ulfr. Such grace, efficiency, and viciousness were precious skills, and she yearned to command him to hump her against a tree. Violence and brutality made her wet, and Lance was the embodiment of both. The fact that he appeared to have a mind easily manipulated made him the perfect man in Ylva’s opinion.
She just needed to get rid of that healer.
“I like the way you think, my girl. But first we need to recruit another warlord to cover Ulfr’s territory. The civil war is going nicely, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the emperor is nearly ready to declare Grekenus forfeit to all combating parties and to allow Swenen and Cairon to divide and absorb it.”
“With Swenen receiving the larger portion, of course.”
He chuckled. “Of course. I have been his most loyal and devoted advisor during this terrible time.”
Ylva ducked her head and grinned. “Did you arrive safely at the Hill?”
“Yes, I did. I have managed to meet with several of my associates. We had fruitful conversations. I have yet to speak to the emperor. It would seem he’s under the weather. I hope to be received tomorrow. I suspect he will scratch the kingdom of Grekenus from the history books before the end of the year.”
It was rare for her father to leave Swenen. He usually sent emissaries to deal with such meetings but it made sense he would want to show his face now and then, especially when it was on the way to his real destination.
It always comforted her how much her father resembled her homeland of Swenen. She missed it so much. For hours she would stare out the windows of their manor, looking over leagues of frost-covered grass and dead trees with sharp, black mountains in the far distance. Her home wasn’t the most hospitable place at the best of times, although it accounted for most of the empire’s timber and ore production. She personally liked the unforgivable, jagged edge. It guaranteed only the toughest survived, the strong and the cunning.
“What do you say to Agar taking over Ulfr’s mantle?” her father asked.
<
br /> “He is a fine choice.”
“And how do you feel about donning the black armor?”
Her heart jumped at the thought. She tempered her elation and kept her voice calm. “I would be honored to be the new Scourge. But would it not be better for me to stay in Cairon and monitor Lance? We can’t have the queens getting to him.”
Annoyance flashed in his eyes and she inwardly winced. Then he smiled slightly and shook his head. “Sometimes I forget how aware you are of the delicacy of my enterprise. Aslog and Calantha don’t bother themselves with anything beyond their own missions.”
Relief loosened the tension in her shoulders.
“Aslog is set in Queen Cleptra’s courts. She can monitor Lance’s movements from there. You, meanwhile, will get Agar set up and let it be known to Ulfr’s warriors that there is a new warlord for them to pledge loyalty to. If Lance is so bent on his mission, he will follow those warriors right into your hands. I’m sure many of them are heading to Grekenus and Ulfr’s hideouts as we speak. Aslog will do what she can to corral Lance in the same direction.”
She smiled and bowed her head. “I won’t fail you.”
“You never have before. I have no doubt you will bring Lance back into the fold.”
His praise warmed her. “When do I leave?”
“Immediately. I assume you convinced Ulfr to leave the armor before confronting Lance? Good. Take the armor and find Agar. I doubt he will be any less eager than you to begin. He’s always one to prove himself.”
“I will have to adjust it a bit,” she said with a slight chuckle.
Lord Jorvikr grinned. “Not too much. You’re as tall and sturdy as a man.”
If she was a blusher like her sister, Aslog, she would be bright red. Thankfully, despite her red hair and pale skin, that was never a burden she carried.
“May the gods bless your journey, my daughter.”
“May the gods bless your health, Father.”
He was the one to remove the seer stone and break the connection. When she was alone with her own company, she squealed in delight. Aslog and Calantha would be so jealous!