Bound in Stone 3

by K. M. Frontain

  It was true. He could hurt her, but he could not be rid of her. “You are an annoying hag. The men of this army won’t listen to a woman.”

  “The men of this army won’t know I’m not you. One decent spell, and any strange accidents will have a new history, and I’ll just borrow your face for as long as the goddess pleases. Your death mask will be very well cared for, since it’ll be made of your own skin. Don’t worry.” She smiled spite and pointed a bony finger at the unconscious monk. “How?” she demanded again.

  “My skin?” Marun repeated.

  “Yes, your skin.”

  “What sort of spell is that? It sounds appallingly interesting. Will you teach it to me?”

  “How?” she repeated, evil grin undaunted.

  “I have hairs from his lover,” he said at last. “I will use them to bind him to me. His memory will be hampered.”

  Her smile softened into one of admiration. “Very good, sorcerer. Twist him with two loves. He’ll be so confused, he’ll do anything you ask.”

  “That’s the idea,” Marun said. “Now get out!”

  She nodded and left. Marun kicked the scraps of clothing.

  “Get these burned!” he snapped at the servants. “Have the leather cleaned until the stench is gone. If the smell cannot be removed, replace the leather.”

  Two of them rushed forward with empty buckets in their hands. They piled the rags and the weapons into them and hurried from the pavilion. Marun’s personal servant stepped forward.

  “Shall I assist you, Master?”

  “No! Get out! Don’t let anyone disturb me!”

  Domel bowed and withdrew.

  “Come back!” Marun shouted. Domel burst back in. Marun stripped his clothing off until he wore nothing but his chains of power. “Burn these too. The stench is on them as well.”

  Domel hastened to take the soiled clothing from him. The moment his master was naked, Domel exited the pavilion. Marun heard him relay the order that there should be no further disturbances. The sorcerer’s mind drifted away from the outside world. His attention fixed on Kehfrey.

  He lay inert, positioned as he had been earlier. The potion that had been cast upon him would keep him numb and senseless for weeks or until healing green broke the curse, a service the sorcerer would not render just yet. Marun had dared the unthinkable to create the potion. He’d scratched grit off their soulstone. Such a thing; damaging a soulstone the least bit could have catastrophic results, but Marun had worried most that Kehfrey’s soul would escape if the stone’s original structure were weakened. But nothing untoward had occurred. Kehfrey’s silent presence within the granite hadn’t changed, and Marun had collected the grit and carefully polished the scratches away after.

  Marun tested the water of the bath. Satisfied, he lifted Kehfrey and set him within the tub. He was as gentle as he could be. He worked soap onto a cloth and washed every inch of Kehfrey’s soiled body. He paid attention to his hair, rinsing it until all the caked faeces were removed. Once every layer of harpy excrement had at last soaked free, Marun lifted Kehfrey out and laid him on towelling.

  Dripping on the canvas, the sorcerer worked the cleansing spell to eradicate any last impurity on both their bodies. The resultant wind rushed over him and flew toward the comatose captive. Though his hair was sopping wet, the breeze raised the crimson curls from Kehfrey’s scalp.

  And then Kehfrey moved. Marun stared, at first too amazed to be alarmed. Apprehension settled in like an anchor, driving deep into the mud of his complacency. Kehfrey had moved. Despite the strong potion the harpies had used on him, he had the strength to shift an arm. Almost eight years had passed, and he had grown more powerful.

  “He resists!” Marun whispered. The apprehension dug in further.

  Uncertain of the extent of his captive’s recovery, he backed off. Kehfrey’s head turned in his direction. His eyes fluttered open. Marun halted, struck by how dull were the hazel irises, dull and sick. And tormented. Marun ached that he had done this to Kehfrey, but he could not regret it.

  “Kehfrey?”

  Kehfrey’s gaze wandered down his captor’s shape. He frowned as if confused. Unable to resist, Marun approached to kneel before him. “Kehfrey?” he said again.

  Kehfrey stared at him fixedly. Prodded by the obsessive need, Marun bent and placed his lips on his prize. He shook with the agony of years of separation. A hand slid up his arm, and he pressed the kiss deeper. The hand slipped over his shoulder, brushed so wonderfully against his collarbone. Then tangled with chains and twisted. He jerked away. The fingers were too weak to hold him. The arm dropped. Marun retreated, in his throat a sour knot of betrayal.

  “Why have you done this?” he demanded. “Why have you done this to us?”

  Kehfrey shut his eyes and turned away, refusing even the sight of him. Marun darted forward and yanked strands of crimson from his head. His victim cried out and looked up. Marun snarled his discontent downward.

  “I loved you! I still love you!”

  His only answer: eyelids shutting over wounded emotions. Marun stalked to the table. He set the red hairs on it and went to the trunk. From it he withdrew the handkerchief that enfolded Ugoth’s golden ones. As he returned to the table, he pulled some of his own. Shortly he had three different fibres floating together in a bowl of water—his, Kehfrey’s and King Ugoth’s. With words of power, he bound the vibrations of all three essences to the water and drank the potion down. He thumped the bowl on the table and almost retched.

  “Oh!” The emanations twisted in his gut. The echo of Ugoth’s soul fought like a beast. Marun held his stomach and thudded to his knees. An internal rip of hatred cut him, and he curled onto the floor. “Oh, gods!”

  It hated him! Ugoth hated him! Marun shuddered helplessly. The pain was agonising, the hate appallingly strong, stronger than him, feral, inhuman. Monstrous! The antipathy spiked with such intensity he couldn’t even scream. He writhed on the floor with his breath choked off. It would go on forever. He knew it. He had been such a fool.

  Indistinctly he felt a hand slide over his back. A second touched him. The pain eased just barely. The beast that was Ugoth’s echo seemed to pause, to hearken unto a voice, a welcome voice. Then Marun perceived the eerie strangeness of that voice. The words made no sense. They didn’t quite arrive in his ears.

  Blue! Nothing but blue! It was rapture.

  Hands lifted Marun until he knelt, and Kehfrey’s lips settled on his. What had been rapture seconds ago seemed like a caress now. Marun shivered in his captive’s arms and felt what Ugoth had experienced, the real rapture, the full force of Kehfrey’s love. Azure enveloped both of them. Had his soul been in his body, Marun would have died of his broken heart there and then. Tears fell from his eyes. He was in ecstasy. He was in the abyss. Kehfrey loved another.

  Kehfrey’s lips parted from him. Marun protested wordlessly, but Kehfrey slid down and tumbled to the canvas. Marun touched a shoulder tentatively. “Kehfrey?”

  “I’m sorry,” the stranger he had become uttered weakly. “I have no strength left.” His aggrieved eyes shut.

  Marun stared down in awe. The immense pain was gone. He could feel the beast shifting, restless as if it paced and waited. Somehow Kehfrey had set his own vibration over it. The echo of Ugoth was willing to rest calmly. Barely.

  “I’m so cold!” Kehfrey whispered.

  Marun swiped at the tears that still trailed down his cheeks. He set a hand on Kehfrey’s chest. The potion was taking hold again. His pale skin grew perceptibly colder as he fell back into the paralysis. He had evidently used all his remaining strength to right this foolishness.

  Penitent, the sorcerer bent and kissed his lips. He willed curative power from out of the earth. A torrent of green flowed up into his legs and shot down his arm. Kehfrey arched as the energy hit him. He gasped and shifted away.

  “No!” he cried.

  “Kehfrey, I but heal you,” Marun called an assurance. “Be still.”

  “
No!” Kehfrey cried again. He pushed feebly at Marun, but the sorcerer blocked his hands and pressed down more firmly, sinking the green into the unwilling receptacle. Kehfrey cried yet another refusal, but Marun forced the energy all the harder, ramming it through his resistance.

  Then he didn’t need to force. As if Kehfrey were magnetized, the power surged toward him. Despite his initial opposition, he inhaled the torrent inward. He writhed with it. Marun became a conduit between the Ancient Power and this single man, and it was Kehfrey who drew the energy out from the earth, and as much he as pulled, more roared up from the fount. The goddess gave unstintingly. She caressed her target with her might.

  Kehfrey’s shudders lessened only slightly when he gripped the canvas floor in his fists. Scorch marks appeared there and around his head and feet, the only parts of him still touching earth, until a halo of charred canvas radiated from each contact point. Blue began to leap with the earthly green, and the two auras danced over his body. His eyes opened, revealing irises that glowed with life, sparking with immense energy. The dancing flames shot up Marun’s arm. With a static crack, his hand flew off. The glow over Kehfrey snapped out, and he sagged onto the canvas, sucking in air hoarsely.

  Marun gasped. He tingled everywhere. So much power! He’d never witnessed so much power rise before. And he knew. He had the means to defeat Ugoth. He had his own holy cleric. He had the most powerful cleric to have ever existed. He had Kehfrey!

  Yes, Tehlm Sevet. That’s what you have, the goddess whispered up to him. A weapon with which to smite my enemies.

  His mind chilled. Why hadn’t she tried to drain Kehfrey as she always did?

  But didn’t I just make it clear, beloved servant? Use him to win this war. Rid the world of those who oppose me.

  She’d found a use for Kehfrey at last and didn’t want to drain him? Marun smiled. Ugoth would die!

  Kehfrey’s head turned. A frown marred his brow. “Who are you?” he demanded.

  The vicious smile crumbled from Marun’s face. “Do you not remember?”

  “No.” Kehfrey sat up and peered about suspiciously. “Where am I?”

  “In our pavilion,” Marun told him.

  “Ours?” He stared at the sorcerer again. “Who are you?”

  “Marun.”

  “Liar! That’s not your name!”

  “I don’t use my own name anymore,” Marun said. “Try to remember it.”

  “I can’t. I can’t remember anything!” Kehfrey lifted himself from the floor. His nose curled in disgust. “There’s a stench in here!”

  Marun rose to face him. “You were attacked by harpies. I had to wash you.”

  “Gods! Get the bath out of here! The stench is coming from it!”

  Unable to resist doing so, Marun smiled. Kehfrey was still the same. Just as impulsive with words as before. “You had better cover yourself first,” he advised him.

  Kehfrey looked down at himself absently, but then his attention flew about the enclosure. He stared at everything. He frowned at all of it. “This isn’t right! That’s not the right chest! That’s not the right table!”

  “Kehfrey!” Marun called, desperate to distract him from questing thoughts and actions.

  Kehfrey’ gaze darted toward him. His mystified expression became fierce with mistrust. “Who are you?” he snarled.

  And then Marun was on the floor and choking, his chains once more the weapon meant to kill him. Despite their difference in size, he was unable to do a thing about it. Kehfrey was amazingly stronger than him. He was a killer and he was ready to give him death.

  Marun ceased resisting physically and attacked on a different front. He sent his spiritual agony. Kehfrey darted backward off him and stared with baleful eyes.

  “How are you doing that?” he demanded. “Get out of my head!”

  “I can’t!” Marun croaked. He sat up and his anger fired into a possessive declaration. “You’re in mine! You are mine! You belong to me!”

  Bewildered, Kehfrey shook his head. “No! Who are you?”

  “The man you love!” Marun rose and confronted him. “The man you love!” he insisted.

  Kehfrey shook his head again, trying to deny it, but somehow he knew the dark-eyed man wasn’t lying. Only … it wasn’t right.

  Marun watched apprehensively. If the potion were going to work, he would know it now. So far, it had done nothing but cloud Kehfrey’s mind. He waited to see if the magic would also bind it.

  “Try to remember, Kehfrey!” he begged. “Remember us! We love each other!”

  “You … aren’t right,” Kehfrey said. “Something—!”

  Marun cried wordlessly and grabbed him. He didn’t know whether it was from confusion or curiosity, but Kehfrey didn’t resist. Marun kissed him hungrily, frantically, and Kehfrey began to kiss back. Within the sorcerer’s body, Ugoth’s taint rose and clutched at the intense emotion Marun felt. Marun shook with his own need, shivered with a faint echo of the other lover, and Kehfrey suddenly lost all his reserve. He lifted his arms and pulled his forgotten lover closer. Helpless to stop them, tears pricked Marun’s eyes. Once more it had been love for Ugoth that had conquered, not love for him.

  Kehfrey shifted away from him, his regard confused and hinting suspicion. “Why are you unhappy?”

  “I’m not.”

  “Liar!”

  The sorcerer gritted his teeth. He clutched Kehfrey by the arms, digging his fingers in harshly. “You little bastard! You took another lover!” he cried and shook him furiously. “You bastard!”

  Kehfrey paled with remorse. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember it.”

  “Would you still be sorry if you did?” He shoved him away.

  “I don’t know!” Kehfrey shouted back. “What’s happened to me? Why can’t I remember anything?”

  Those were not questions he could answer. Kehfrey’s talent for weeding lies made it impossible to answer them. “Oh, shut up and cover yourself,” Marun said. “I am about to call in the servants to take this stinking water out.”

  His contempt provoked disobliging resentment. “Call them! I have nothing to hide.”

  “You have nothing to be ashamed of, you mean,” Marun snapped. “Bastard! Rutting bastard!”

  Kehfrey frowned. “That …! That’s familiar,” he murmured. “Why is that familiar?” He turned away and walked to the cot. He pulled the topmost blanket off and slung it around himself.

  Marun gaped at him. Could Ugoth have been having the same trouble? Had Kehfrey been looking elsewhere for gratification?

  “Where’s my clothing? My … habit?”

  “The harpies destroyed them.”

  “Harpies?” Kehfrey’s expression went blank. “Yes, there were harpies,” he whispered.

  Marun watched warily. Kehfrey should not have remembered anything about his captivity with the harpies. The potion should have stunned him senseless.

  “There were three,” came a second whisper.

  A distraction. Another distraction was necessary. Marun whipped about to face the entrance. “Servants!” he roared.

  Kehfrey started. Suddenly he sat on the cot as if dizzy. “Oh!”

  Marun whirled back toward him. “Kehfrey?”

  “Is that really my name?”

  “Yes!”

  The sorcerer’s manservant rushed into the tent. He looked at the handsome young man on the cot.

  “Take your fool eyes off him!” Marun ordered. “Get the bath out of here!”

  The manservant bowed and retreated outside to organize the removal of the bath. Marun went to the cot. He sat next to Kehfrey and pulled a blanket over his own lap. They sat silently as servants returned with buckets to remove most of the water from the tub, after which the tub was carried out. He and Kehfrey spoke not a single word during all that time, nor did they move.

  With the tub at last removed, the manservant stepped forward and asked Marun if he wished any other service. “Food,” Kehfrey said. “Lots of it. I feel like I haven�
�t eaten for days.”

  The servant glanced at his master. Marun nodded, and the man rushed out.

  “Are you a king?” Kehfrey asked. Such a beautiful soft voice. Such a deadly menacing voice.

  “No,” Marun said. He was cold with trepidation. The spell wasn’t working right. It wasn’t work right at all.

  “What, then?”

  “A sorcerer. A summoner.”

  He looked at Kehfrey. Kehfrey was staring at him. Marun gazed into intent hazel eyes and knew he was in danger, and yet he couldn’t move. He could only want him.

  “I know you. Don’t I?” Kehfrey said.

  “Yes. We belong together. You and I. We were meant to be together.”

  “Yes,” Kehfrey murmured. He shifted forward while Marun watched with hungry fascination. “Yes,” Kehfrey whispered again and pressed his mouth on him. He pushed the sorcerer back against the mattress.

  Marun clutched at Kehfrey’s shoulders as they settled. The kiss deepened, and he shivered. He shifted his hands to Kehfrey’s chest, brushed the fine layer of curling hairs that hadn’t been there eight years earlier, followed the ripples of taut muscles that girded a torso filled to manly proportions. His touch passed the tense flatness of stomach and settled at the groin. He caressed the hard staff between the legs, slipped his thumb over the juice that betrayed intense excitement. Kehfrey cried out against his lips and pulled away.

  “No!” Marun protested. “Don’t stop. Please, Kehfrey! Let me touch you.”

  The retreat was momentary. His recaptured lover had no intention of stopping. He wanted more than the touch of hands. Kehfrey gripped Marun’s shoulder and attempted to force him around. Marun resisted. This wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted that slender body beneath him. He needed to feel Kehfrey’s submission. He had to taste his submission.

  But his captive was disinclined to such tender capitulation, and he showed his reluctance and misgivings with unmistakeable, unstoppable violence. Impatient, furious, Kehfrey struck the sorcerer across the face. Marun gasped with pain. Kehfrey took advantage of his shock and thrust him about. And still Marun refused to accept him. This wasn’t how he wanted it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.