The Temple Road

by Kirby Crow

  “Maybe it wasn't her hand to play,” Scarlet suggested.

  Liall touched Scarlet's lower lip. “What are you thinking, my clever pedlar?”

  “Do you believe there's a shred of truth in what she said?”

  “It did have the ring of it, yes.”

  Scarlet kissed Liall's fingers. “I'm thinking that if you believe Shikhoza couldn't keep a secret for sixty years, you should start thinking about what woman you know who could.”

  “But only those I've had.”

  “Well, yes. Are there truly that many?” He wouldn't have thought that about Liall, but then, he wouldn't have thought Shikhoza was Liall's type, either. Liall's youth in Rshan was a mystery to him. “Much as I try, I can't imagine you as a green boy chasing skirts and tripping over your own feet.”

  Liall blinked. “What did you say?”

  He realized he might have brought up bad memories. At all times, he tried to avoid mention of Nadei, knowing how painful that was for Liall. “Sorry. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “I was green once, you know,” Liall said thoughtfully. “I knew my courtly manners and my history, my languages and maps and mathematics, but I didn't know a thing about war or women. That was a long time ago.”

  Scarlet sighed. “Well, anyroad, when a woman hints, she's not far from telling you all of it.”

  Liall's eyebrows went up. “And you know this how? I thought you'd never had a woman, yourself.”

  Scarlet felt his cheeks turning warm. “I haven't.”

  “And there's that lovely blush.” Liall put his hand under Scarlet's chin and looked at him very seriously. “Perhaps it's time you tried one.”

  “We’ve been over this. No.”

  “And why not? If you're afraid I'll be jealous of a ghilan girl, I won't. We don't have slaves in Rshan, but we have whorehouses aplenty.”

  “It's not that!” Scarlet pushed Liall’s hands away and stood. “I just... I'm not... I cannot with a woman. I don't want to.”

  Liall sat back and studied him, his long hands dangling from the chair arms. “Is it truly so? You have no desire for a woman's body at all?”

  “None,” Scarlet answered flatly. “I never have, ever since I can remember. While my friends were chasing maids and stealing kisses behind the hay barn, I was off working or wandering in the woods. I would rather have been anywhere than courting for a wife. That's one of the reasons I left Lysia. Not the only one. I had the wilding, but I may have tried to fight it if there had been someone for me. There wasn't, and no one expects a Hilurin girl to marry a pedlar.”

  “It was different for me,” Liall said gently. “I have found pleasure with both men and women, though I’ve always preferred men. Occasionally an exceptional woman captured my attention, like Shikhoza, and I fell in love. It was young love, of course. A faint shadow of what I feel for you. But I was afraid that perhaps being with me had prevented you from exploring your feelings more carefully.” Liall shrugged and spread his hands. “You're very young, as we both agree, and so many people pressured you to be other than what you are in Byzantur. I feared that I was doing the same thing, and perhaps closing doors for you that you never thought to open. I just don't want to deprive you of experiences, or of living fully to become the man you were meant to be.” He winked. “I'm not entirely selfish, you know.”

  Scarlet exhaled slowly, not buying the explanation for an instant. “This is Shikhoza's doing, isn't it? She said something about me that got your hackles up.”

  “She said you were naive,” Liall answered. “And that led me to believe that perhaps I was holding you back from gaining experience. From growing, if you will. I shouldn't have listened to her. There are many beautiful women at court, and they never even turn your head.”

  “Or me theirs,” Scarlet pointed out.

  Liall smirked. “You’re wrong. Many of them find you very alluring.”

  Scarlet stared. “What?”

  “It surprises you that a Rshani woman would be charmed by the idea of a gentle Hilurin boy as her lover? Any woman would cherish you.”

  “Yes. Like a pet cat.”

  Liall shrugged. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “You do excite certain feelings of protection in others. I've seen that. I'm even grateful for it.”

  The thought stung Scarlet. Is that what I am to them, a pet? Is that why Margun and Jochi and Tesk are so kind? “I'm not that gentle,” he growled. “Ask Nevoi.”

  Liall grinned. “There's my pedlar.” He reached for his boots and pulled them on.

  Scarlet climbed back into the bed, tucked a pillow under his chin, and watched Liall as he rose and gathered his cloak and other belongings that he had strewn about the room. Things did tend to get scattered when they made love. “Where are you off to now?”

  “To the encampment. I’ll inspect the soldiers and make myself acquainted with their captains.”

  “I thought only generals did that sort of thing.”

  “And how many generals and kings have you known before me?”

  Scarlet laughed. “Oh, dozens, at the least. Two for a copper they are, back home.”

  Liall winked as he finished lacing his breeches up. “But first, there’s a hunt.”

  “Of course there is.” He frowned. “Not a bear hunt, I hope?”

  “Wild boar,” Liall said merrily, obviously looking forward to the hunt. “There are many snow bears on the coast, but they avoid the cities. Only extreme hunger drives them into contact with men, and then the bear often regrets it. No, we will hunt pork with the freeriders today, and leave the bears untouched. Alexyin arranged it all as a royal gesture to the freeriders. I think he would like to conscript them into the campaign, but since that’s illegal, he hopes to convince some to join of their own will.”

  Scarlet heard a small sound at the door of the bedchamber and turned his head just as it swung open. Alexyin stood there.

  “Deva’s shrieking hell!” Scarlet jerked the covers over his body. The servants were getting better at not entering unbidden, but Alexyin was not a servant. Scarlet glared at Alexyin, who ignored him.

  Liall calmly continued to dress. “Yes?” he asked, his head down, seeming intent on his task.

  Alexyin threw a quick look of contempt at Scarlet.

  Scarlet recoiled at the bare dislike in Alexyin’s eyes. Hells, something will have to be done about this, and soon.

  “My lord, did you discover his purpose in meeting with the baroness?”

  “I advise you not to speak of my t’aishka as if he were not present,” Liall said in a monotone. “He has a temper, you know.” He retrieved his cloak from the chair.

  Scarlet realized his hands were shaking. Everything fell into place. So that explained Liall’s strange mood, the fierceness of his lovemaking. He was suspicious!

  Alexyin raised his chin, nearly putting his nose in the air. “I fear no magic.”

  “Then you’re a fool,” Liall said. He looked at Scarlet, his pale blue eyes bland as ice. “And yes. It was just as I said. Shikhoza’s intent was to taunt him a last time. Nothing more.”

  “My lord...” Alexyin began.

  “Get out, Alexyin.” Liall draped his cloak over one shoulder. He bent over Scarlet and planted a lingering kiss on his mouth. “I will always trust my t’aishka,” he said in that strange, lifeless tone. His gaze locked with Scarlet’s. “Always.”

  Old Gods

  LIALL ENJOYED watching Scarlet after lovemaking, and also while he slept. Despite the complaint of nightmares, his love always seemed so peaceful and serene in his slumber. What could trouble such a gentle mind?

  Not always so gentle, Liall reminded himself. When pressed to it, Scarlet was capable of more than temper. He was capable of true violence. Scarlet had killed to defend himself and others.

  Which is only right and good, Liall thought. I would have it no other way.

  He remembered that Scarlet habitually slept with his small hand curled beside his cheek on the pillow. A charming habit,
and such a little hand, but so capable. Liall still found it hard to believe that it could wield magic, but he could not deny the evidence of his own eyes. Scarlet possessed the ancient power of the Anlyribeth.

  Striding away from his chambers, he was still immersed in the sweet ache that followed lovemaking when Alexyin’s voice intruded on his thoughts.

  “My king,” Alexyin hurried after him to keep up with his strident pace through the wide hall. “Sire, we must talk.”

  “Must we? I think not.” Liall muttered. “Did you ask Theor to saddle Argent for me?” Argent was not a hunting mount, but Liall thought his horse might enjoy the outing. It would be a nice change for him from simply plodding along in a military column.

  “I did, sire.”

  “Good, good. It’s a fine day for a hunt.”

  “Sire, I do not believe him.”

  Scarlet again, despite Liall trying to turn the subject, “I haven't asked for your opinion, Alexyin.”

  “Nevertheless—”

  Liall turned on Alexyin. They had reached the stairs. He clenched his hands and his voice rose to a shout. “Nothing!”

  Alexyin pressed his mouth into a grim line.

  “Nothing. I will hear no more,” Liall warned. “Not another insinuation, not another word of dislike, and absolutely no more slander. If you value your place at my court, you will cease this constant suspicion and dislike of my consort. Scarlet is not going anywhere, Alexyin. Not while I live and am king. You'd best either get used to him or start looking for another monarch.”

  Alexyin’s jaw tightened. “You are our king, sire. You are Camira-Druz.”

  “I'm also the wolf, and Scarlet is my mate. Wolves mate for life, Alexyin, and they’re damned dangerous when one of their own is threatened. You're a Setna, you say. Then do what a Setna does. Serve.”

  “I serve to the best of my ability, sire.” Alexyin’s stare would have shattered an iceberg.

  “That’s not good enough. Perhaps you’re becoming too old to serve my family. Your thoughts and ways are stale. I do not intend to rule my realm in the exact same manner my ancestors did. A new king means a new kingdom. If you’re too brittle to bend for that, then you’re of no use to me.”

  Alexyin’s eyes widened. He looked away, rendered speechless, and suddenly Liall was ashamed. He gripped Alexyin’s shoulder.

  “Old friend,” he said, striving for patience. Alexyin had never traveled outside of Rshan, had never seen the world. He was as isolated and distrustful as Liall himself had once been. Perhaps that was how to reach him?

  “I was once like you,” Liall said urgently. “I distrusted Byzans and the people of Kalaslyn. I looked down on them and I did not want to get to know them. But they are not the evil that our stories tell of. In many ways, they are no different from us.”

  “Sire, the Hilurin are our ancient enemies.”

  “Not always,” Liall reminded him. “Long, long ago, we were allies in this land. Against this land, which was hostile and strange to us. We only survived because of them.”

  “And then we nearly died because of them.”

  “They had reason, Alexyin. You cannot say there was not a kind of justice in what they did.”

  “Justice,” Alexyin answered flatly. “That is your belief, sire?”

  “I have no deep convictions on the matter. What I do have are fifteen years of lessons given me by an excellent tutor.” Liall smiled a little. “I was terrible at sums, but I did listen to your history lectures. Did you not always compliment me on my memory? It is possible that the Hilurin were not unjustified in desiring their revenge on us, but it's also possible, knowing them now as I do, that they were not aware of just how terrible their revenge would be. It is not in their nature to be cruel, just as it is not in my nature to forget everything an old friend has done for me. Not unless that friend forces me to choose between him and my heart.” He paused. He did not like to be so blunt about how he felt, but Alexyin left him little choice. “Alexyin, can't you at least try to see Scarlet for what he is, rather than what superstition and fable have told you?”

  Alexyin was silent for several moments. “Yes, sire. I can.”

  “Good.” Liall shook him fondly. “I wish to seal this rift between us before it grows too wide to mend. We’ve known each other too long to quarrel over what cannot be changed.”

  Alexyin bowed his head. “Yes, sire. I apologize.”

  Now that Alexyin appeared contrite and had—Liall hoped—seen the error of his mind, he felt like forgiving his old teacher. “We’ll say no more about it.” So long as it does not happen again. “Now let's get after that boar. I have a taste for pork.”

  A LATE SNOW HAD MADE lacework of the evergreen branches, and a low beam of yellow sunlight blared through the trees, casting shadows long as mountains. Thin snowpack crunched under horseshoes and leather boots. The wind was still, hiding no sound.

  Theor brought up the rear of the hunting party, axe in hand and watchful for danger. Jochi had stayed behind, even though Alexyin had invited him to ride with them a last time. Jochi was upset about losing his post within the royal court, but why that should come between him and Alexyin, Liall did not know. Did Jochi blame Alexyin in some way?

  Liall made a mental note to inquire about that later. He wanted no enmity between Setna, especially a man of Jochi’s status, who was a cousin to Alexyin and thus to him, in a more distant fashion.

  At the edge of the woods, Liall reined Argent in and glanced at the faces of the hunting party, noting an absence. “Where is Tesk?” he asked Alexyin.

  “I don’t know, sire. He was not in the courtyard this morning.”

  “Did he send no word?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Odd.” Liall frowned. “The man loves a hunt as much as he loves his clothes.” He shrugged. “All the more for us, then.” He clucked his tongue and led the riders through a break in the trees.

  Once beneath the shelter of the woods, the riders fanned out and the royal hunt began. All the noise turned the affair into something of an obvious farce. Wild boars were rarely spotted this close to the city. Their prey had been duly released by the same farmer who had captured and fattened it last spring, but the boar was still as wild and ferocious as an ice cat. They chased it on horseback for a time, making as much racket as a small army and probably spooking all other game out of the area for a week. The holdfasts and farms nearby would not thank them for that, but Liall found it hard to regret. Astride his horse, among his men, no barons nearby to devil and harass him, he found he was happy. Leading men was what he was born for. No matter where he found himself, as a bandit in sleek Omara or a Kasiri in the Byzan hills, he somehow always wound up the chieftain, the wolf, the king.

  If there were gods, as Scarlet insisted, then they seemed to have a plan for him.

  The boar led them a surprisingly vigorous chase throughout the morning. Three hours after it was first sighted, Liall rode to a hill and spotted it crossing a narrow, icy stream below, its fat bristly flanks jiggling as it grunted its wrath at the pursuing men.

  Liall’s enthusiasm for roasted boar had not waned, even if the hunting party was tiring. Argent was not impressed when they reached the stream either, nosing the chunks of ice aside and snorting in disdain. A soft, expensive, city mare with a cloud-gray coat brushed her rump against Argent’s and whickered impatiently. Theor was her rider.

  “You’re holding up the line, boy,” Theor said, amused.

  The gray palfrey nipped Argent’s neck as if hurry him on. Argent snorted in offense and stubbornly would not put a hoof in the water. Liall patted Argent’s coal-black mane and gave it up.

  “Have it your way, then,” he murmured, smiling to realize he sounded much like Scarlet. He dismounted and handed the reins to a guard, pausing to slide the thick, barbed pike from its saddle-sheath.

  The men dismounted their horses at once. When the king is on foot, so all men must be. Tired or not, they would follow.

&nb
sp; Liall gestured at the palfrey. “An odd choice of mount for you, Theor.”

  The Master of Horse hefted his mighty axe lightly as a toothpick and rested it on his shoulder. He scratched his nose. “Aye, she’s a bit fancy for hunting, but she’s got a fat rump and a nice seat, like riding with pillows under my arse.”

  The hunters laughed. Liall grinned and waded into the stream. It was cold, naturally. Despite what Scarlet believed, he knew when water was freezing and the wind was cold. He just did not mind it very much. He would have thought that so many years in the gentler climes of the south would have weakened his tolerance for cold. On the contrary, he felt invigorated, stronger than ever. Having a young lover was part of that, perhaps. Despite his stature, Scarlet could certainly put a man through his paces. He never seemed to tire of lovemaking, or of him. Scarlet was always eager for his embrace, never refusing him, even when Liall knew he was tired. And kissing...gods, the boy had a mouth made for it.

  And for other things. Liall’s smile turned wicked. He had taken many lovers in his years of roaming Byzantur. Never a Hilurin, and never one so young as Scarlet. They had all been unique in their own ways; soft or rough, pretty or plain, lowborn or patrician. He remembered one Morturii lad in particular; a minor noble from Ankar with some wild Volstland blood in his ancestry. Now that one had liked to fuck, and to fight. He hadn’t held his drink well, though, and he had been prone to fits of rage and grief from an old hurt he would never speak of. In the end, Liall had decided the nobles of Ankar were even more work than the aristocrats of Rshan, and they had parted ways after a few whirlwind months. The break had not pained him overmuch, but he could not say the same for the Morturii. Liall still bore the faint scars of scratches on his shoulder.

  Scarlet was different from any lover Liall had ever known, or any man, for that matter. Proud and stubborn, yet kind and practical. Foul-mouthed when the mood took him, but with a stainless character like polished steel. Rigid, but generous. Gentle, but fiery. How so many contradictions could fit into one man was a mystery that Liall could happily spend a lifetime exploring. And Scarlet worried that he would grow bored with him. Bored! As if that could happen. He would never be bored of Scarlet. Never.