by Megan Derr
Geoffrey helped him get dinner going, and once the soup was bubbling away, drew him into a soft, lingering kiss. "I like having you around, goblin."
"That's good; otherwise this wedding ring would be a bit awkward," Thorley replied, and grinned as Geoffrey used his chest to muffle his laughter. Kissing the top of his head, Thorley then went to make up the guest bed while Geoffrey kept an eye on dinner and the sleeping family.
Letting Go
THE TROLL
Giles wiped his brow, then set a new log on the stump and swung the axe, splitting it deftly in two. He'd started at dawn, when the air was still so chilly his breaths misted, gulping down a hasty cup of tea before setting to work. The sun was well up now, and he was near to half done.
All in all, a pretty good start to the day.
He paused to catch his breath, and looked toward the house—just as the door opened, and a handsome figure came out carrying a steaming tray. Though Kenzie had been with them for just over six months now, the excitement and cautious happiness never faded.
Kenzie smiled as he reached Giles, and set the tray on a table Giles had improvised from some old cords not worth chopping up for burning, and some leftover plank scraps from the shed they'd built to house all of Kenzie's herbs and other healing supplies and tools.
Of which there was a shocking amount. Giles had never realized that healing entailed so much. Kenzie always smelled faintly of herbs and flowers, and he was forever collecting, drying, bottling, powdering, pickling… and so many other things. It had taken them most of the past six months simply to build the shed, acquire all the implements and tools to fill it, and then all the herbs, flowers, mushrooms, and more.
The twins loved helping Kenzie almost as much as they loved Kenzie himself. From the moment they'd woken up and met him, and learned he used to be the troll, he'd been their favorite person in the world. Giles might be jealous if he didn't find it absolutely adorable. If he didn't love how seamlessly Kenzie fit into their life, like there'd been a spot there the whole time just waiting for him to show up.
He set the ax in the stump he used for chopping, and gratefully took the mug of tea Kenzie offered. Like everything else, the tea had vastly improved since Kenzie's arrival. It was never burnt or stale, always fragrant, perfectly steeped, flavored with all manner of things—including honey, which Kenzie seemed to have a knack for acquiring. "Thank you."
Kenzie leaned down to kiss him, tasting of tea and honey himself. "Least I can do for the man who never seems to stop working, he's so determined to take care of us all."
Giles laughed. "Says the man who has an entire apothecary behind the house. I've been to the village healer multiple times, and I vow she doesn't have even a tenth of all that you've acquired since leaving the bridge. And you're always fussing about what's still missing."
"I was trained by one of the best healers in the kingdom, before I went gallivanting off with a lover who was quick to abandon me," Kenzie replied, and reached out to tuck back an errant strand of hair that had escaped the tail Giles had bound it in. "I kept up with my studies by way of books, and learning from healers in the camp and all the villages we traveled through. I used to have my own books, journals filled with all my notes and recipes. Who knows where they've ended up now; hopefully in the hands of someone who can use them."
"Should we trade for something like that?" Giles asked. "Books? Journals? I suppose we'd need the ink and all, too." He gnawed thoughtfully on his bottom lip.
"Stop your plotting. I don't need any such thing," Kenzie replied, and kissed him again. "I was merely explaining why I know so much. I had the luxury of a fine teacher, and after him many other teachers, because I traveled. Mistress Constance is a perfectly fine healer."
Giles wasn't convinced of that, but his opinion was soured by the fact that she treated Giles much like everyone else—as though he'd committed some crime by daring to be born to parents who flouted rules and had no time for closed minds. "You're not that much older than me, but you've done so much," he said wistfully.
Kenzie kissed him again, drew him in close and held him, despite the fact that the after chopping wood for a couple of hours Giles was hardly pleasant to be around. "I've got a good six years on you, silly, that's not nothing. If you want to pack up and travel and see the kingdom, we certainly can."
"No, gods no, not with the twins. Can you imagine? We'd kill them or they'd kill us or—" Giles shuddered thinking about all the trouble they could get into with a whole kingdom to play in. It was hard enough keeping them out of trouble when they only had the house and fields. "Maybe once they're all grown up and off terrorizing other people."
Snickering, Kenzie kissed him again then stepped back and tugged him over to the improvised table. "Eat. I know you must be hungry, given how late you worked yesterday, your further exertions last night…" he winked. "And the work you've already done this morning."
Giles flushed. Finding time to themselves could be a tricky thing, but mercy when they managed to get it… Brent had always been eager to get off and scared of getting caught with the son of the village disgrace. Those harried fumblings had always left Giles feeling disappointed and ashamed, but he'd done it again and again hoping that something, anything, would change.
Kenzie was nothing at all like Brent. He was eager, enthusiastic, cared enough not to rush selfishly to the bit that most interested him, in fact seemed to take the most pleasure in Giles' pleasure. And he knew so very much more than Brent and Giles had ever figured out together.
"Go away before I try to do something we'll certainly get caught at," Giles said, and shoved Kenzie away when he grinned evilly.
When Kenzie had gone, with a last parting leer over his shoulder, Giles set to eating. Kenzie had made bread the previous day, taking it out of the ovens—another project of his that had taken them days, but been oh so worth it—right as the sun was setting. It was slathered with butter they'd traded for, and more of the honey Kenzie had collected.
So many little ways that life had vastly improved since Kenzie had arrived. Someone to help him, someone who loved him, loved the twins. Who knew so much and seemed happy with their quiet, simple little life, even though it was clear he'd lived a vastly more colorful one once.
Finishing the bread, and the slices of apple alongside it, Giles went back to work chopping wood. Once he was done with this, he'd clean up and put on fresh clothes, then go out to check the traps. Hopefully there'd be some good hares in them. Then he needed to repair the baskets so they'd have them tomorrow to haul the laundry to the creek, since laundry for four people was an all-day endeavor, especially with the twins.
And somewhere in there would be lunch, and playing with the twins, and maybe a few stolen kisses in the shed.
He finished with the wood, then headed off to the creak with the bundle of clean clothes he'd brought along and got washed off.
When he returned to the house, however, it was to find the twins in a tizzy. "Visitor! Visitor, Guy! Someone's come to see us."
"Stay in the house," Giles said. "Where's Kenzie?"
"Out front," Heath said, pouting. "He said to stay inside, too."
Giles laughed and ruffled their heads, then went to see what was happening.
He found Kenzie, a cart, and three men in front of his house, with a fourth, prone figure in the back of the cart. "What's all this?"
"Something wrong with Brent," one of the men said, and Giles realized it was his little brother, barely fourteen years old now, and he seemed close to tears. "We was working, and then all of a sudden he said 'ouch' and fell over. Hasn't woken up since, and Mistress Constance couldn't figure it out. She tried some things, but they only seemed to make everything worse."
"Let's get him inside," Kenzie said. The men hefted, and they got him into the house and settled on a cot that Giles dragged out of the corner to be closer to the low-burning fire that was going.
Then he went to fix food and drink for the scared group while Kenzie g
ot to work.
He found Brent's brother, Callen, outside trying not to cry. "Here, have some cider. You look like you could use it."
Callen sniffled and took the mug Giles held out. "Thank you for helping. I know Brent doesn't deserve it, not after the way he's always treated you. I'm sorry to just barge in like this. We just didn't have nowhere else to go."
"Bad history doesn't mean I should leave him to die," Giles replied. "He wasn't the one who threw the dagger."
"That was Wake," Callen said darkly. "No one is best pleased with him. Ain't okay to go 'round killing people, and nobody wants that kind of trouble." He looked at Giles, then down at his mug. "I'm sorry everyone is so mean to you. I never understood it."
Something unknotted in Giles chest, and he managed a genuine smile as he gripped Callen's shoulder. "It's okay. People are set in their ways, and don't always react well when that's disrupted. I'm glad you're not like the rest of them. Gives me hope for Heath and Hadley."
Callen looked to where Heath and Hadley were playing at the far edge of the field, right at the edge of the woods. Giles wanted to call them back, because they knew they weren't supposed to go that close, but he left it for now. "They seem like really cute kids."
"They always like to make new friends," Giles said. "If you want to keep an eye on them for me, I'd be grateful, since Kenzie will probably need my help here shortly, and I've still got chores to get done."
Brightening, Callen said, "I can certainly watch them—and help with chores, too. Least we can do since you're helping with Brent. Just let me know!" Then he was gone, bolting across the field to the twins, who immediately stopped playing and drew together to inspect the new arrival.
Giles left them to it, silently wishing Callen luck, because he had no idea what he was in for.
Back inside the cabin, Kenzie was bent over Brent, but it wasn't hard to tell the hovering presence of the other three men was making him tense, especially as they wouldn't stop peppering him with questions.
"Let him work," Giles said gently. "Best thing you can do. If you want to keep occupied, I've got a trap line that needs to be checked on, and there's always wood that needs chopping."
Relief flooded their faces at the offer of having something to do, and before Giles could even tell them where to go for the traps, they were out the door and gone. Shaking his head, amused despite himself, Giles looked to Kenzie. "Need anything from me?"
Kenzie looked at him with affection and gratitude. "You just took care of it."
"Know what's wrong?" Giles asked, going over to the little stove in the corner of the cabin that served as the kitchen and pouring a mug of tea. He took it over to Kenzie, who kissed him in thanks.
"It's definitely a spider bite," Kenzie said. "The strange thing is that I think it came from a spider that shouldn't even be around these parts. But one of Brent's friends said his mother had some fancy lumber brought in for the new furniture they're building. Spider could have stowed away on that. Hopefully it came alone, and not with a breeding partner or children." He sighed. "Would you keep an eye on him? I've got him stabilized, but I need to go prepare the antidote. Come for me if he takes a turn for the worse."
Giles nodded, kissed him, then pulled up a chair and sat beside Brent, occasionally changing out the cloth of cool water on his head that was helping with the fever.
The last time they'd spoken had been when Brent and the others had tried to cross Kenzie's bridge. Giles would never be entirely fond of Brent, not after years of hoping Brent would see him as more than a hasty, illicit fuck only to be treated horribly time and again… but without Brent's bratty behavior, he might never have broken Kenzie's spell, so he was willing to let bygone's be bygones.
"Do you miss him?"
Giles startled, and looked up, staring at Kenzie's downcast eyes and frown. "Miss who? Oh, I'm an idiot. You mean Brent. What is there to miss?"
"You were staring at him so pensively."
"I was thinking he was a bastard to me for years, but I'd let it go because it was that bastard behavior that led to me accidentally stepping onto your bridge. I don't like him, but I can't hate a man who led me to my true love, even if he did it accidentally." Giles laughed.
Kenzie broke into one of his absolutely beautiful smiles, and kissed him briefly before sitting opposite him and setting to work on Brent. With Giles's help, he got Brent sitting up enough to get him to swallow a cup of something that smelled like bad perfume and probably tasted worse. Kenzie's concoctions rarely tasted good, but they always worked.
By the time he'd finished that and gone on to treating the wound itself, which had left Brent's right leg swollen to nearly twice its size around the bite area, the others had come in from helping him out with the chores.
"How is he?" Callen asked.
"Fine," Kenzie said. "He'll probably wake up in another hour or so. Stay for lunch, and you can take him home by the time you're done. Just mind he stays off the leg for the rest of the week, and drinks all of the tonic I'll send home with you."
"I will!" Callen said, and hugged Kenzie tight. "Thank you! Especially since I know you've every reason to hate him."
"I'm a healer," Kenzie said gruffly. "My duty is to help everyone who needs it—everyone. Now come on, I'll make the tonic and show you how it's done in case that spider shows up again."
Giles lifted a hand to signal he'd get started on lunch, and let the remaining men cart him off to see the hares they'd collected from the traps, and all the other work they'd done for him.
Men who'd barely talked to him before, and had been part of the ruckus at the bridge.
Life was strange, but at least of late it seemed to be the good kind of strange.
Visitors
BLACK MAGIC
Koray would never get used to the way people insisted on helping him with things like bathing and dressing. He could do both those things perfectly fine just by himself—especially now his hair was not as long as it used to be, thanks to children and foolish pranks.
But he admitted, on days like this, when he was already exhausted and the day wasn't even half over, and this was the third time he'd had to return to his room to change, that the help was appreciated.
He set aside the work robes he'd been in, and let Mela and Russ, his personal servants, help him into the formal court robes. The runes embroidered along the edges shone in the sunlight spilling through the windows. The tapestries that usually covered them were gone entirely, so someone must have taken them for their monthly cleaning.
Mela smoothed down the hood of his over robe so that it lay neatly against his back, then brushed and braided his hair, arranging it so the braid wound around his head almost like a crown, an impression furthered by the jeweled black and purple roses she tucked into it.
On his fingers were several rings, another ridiculousness he could not become accustomed to. One was his wedding ring, a simple gold band with Sorin's name carved inside. Another, on his right pinky, was his royal signet. Yet another was set with a pentacle made of onyx and amethyst that marked him as the High Necromancer. Still others were gifts, talismans of protection and power given to him by Neikirk, and a beautiful antiqued silver ring set with a dark, gleaming ruby that had come from the North, a gift from Brekk.
"Thank you." The servants bowed and bustled off to tidy away his other clothes and such, and Koray headed off to the main hall.
The assembly was still standing, awaiting the arrival of the Court of Five. Koray's arrival made four, and he wasn't surprised that Sorin was the only one missing. Sorin and Cerant were probably the busiest of the five of them, given their roles, but Sorin's role often demanded he go far afield and so he had the hardest time getting back for matters like this.
This matter being the arrival of delegates from a country that Koray had never even heard of before Neikirk began tutoring him in the evenings on all the things he'd never had the opportunity to learn growing up. He hated he'd never be as educated as the others, who a
ll knew multiple languages and where to find any given country on a map and the history of those countries, and so many more things. Koray and Brekk always stood apart in that.
But they had their own strengths, though it had taken him time to truly appreciate that.
Koray took his seat. They were arrayed across the dais, a row of five, the tops of the high backs marked with their respective crests so all comers knew who held which role: High Alchemist Neikirk; High Priest Cerant; High Paladin Sorin; High Necromancer Koray; and High Warlock Brekk. The Court of Five, designated by the Goddess herself, so never again did the people have to worry about one single monarch controlling everything.
Sorin arrived a few minutes later, casting them all an apologetic look as he took his seat. Though none of them had more rank over the others, it was true that Sorin and Certain were regarded as the 'rulers' more than the rest of them in the day to day of things. Koray and the others tended to work more in the shadows, or alongside them, doing all the little things those two didn't have time for, or which was best suited to their respective offices.
Once he was settled, and assured the others were ready, Sorin bid the guards to admit their guests. Normally such things were handled by the Grand Steward, but this particular group was making a huge fuss and demanding a proper audience, and as they'd all actually been on the premises that day, or near enough in Sorin's case, they'd decided to grant it.
Their visitors walked in pompously, reminding Koray viscerally of every noble who'd ever shoved him into the mud, or set servants to beating him and driving him away. Every person who'd denied him food or a place in the stables just to be warm and dry for a night.
They wore beautiful, if strange, clothes, tight fitting and dyed in bright colors and flashy patterns.
The bond he shared with the others conveyed they were equally unimpressed, and Brekk and Sorin were also worried this would erupt into a fight. Something about the visitors made them think soldier, or mercenary, or something along those lines.