by James Erich
The messenger stepped forward but did not step into the light. “You are to be given a gift.”
He appeared more like a man now, though shrouded in a dark cloak, his face hidden in the depths of a cowl.
“What is it?” Koreh asked.
“To step into the light,” the man said, “would reveal too much to the Stronni. Please come here, iinyeh.”
Koreh glanced at the window. There was no curtain to block out the light. Part of him knew stepping across this boundary of light and shadow could prove foolhardy. What if the man was an assassin? But something in the back of his mind sensed otherwise. Who but the Taaweh or one of their allies would know of the Iinu Shavi? What this was, Koreh realized, was a decision. Before him lay the goddess of light. One step farther, in the shadows, lay the goddess of the dark. He was being asked to choose where his allegiances lay.
He stepped forward into the light, and then, with only a moment’s hesitation, took that final step into the shadows.
The man reached up and cupped his face in both hands, causing Koreh to flinch, though the touch wasn’t unpleasant. The hands felt like the hands of a man—no more, no less. Koreh remained still, hoping his faith in the Iinu Shavi hadn’t just sealed his doom. Then the cowled face came close to his own.
“Close your eyes, iinyeh Koreh,” the man said softly.
Koreh did so. He felt the man’s hand touch his side, where the arrow had wounded him, and a soothing warmth eased the pain there. Then he felt the man’s lips touch his eyelids, one at a time, in a gentle kiss.
When the man released him, Koreh opened his eyes. He was shocked to see the room had grown brighter, filled with a soft blue light. In this light, he could now see the man’s face clearly, even inside the cowl. The man was handsome, even beautiful. And he was smiling at him with what appeared to be affection.
There was a small sound from behind Koreh—a gasp—and he whipped around to see Sael sitting up in the bed. He was looking past Koreh, at the stranger.
Koreh turned back to the man, but he was gone. Frowning with annoyance, Koreh turned to his companion.
“Who was that?” Sael looked at the now empty corner, clearly confused, then up at Koreh.
“There’s nobody there. Go back to sleep.”
But that just made Sael grow stubborn. “Don’t tell me there wasn’t anybody there. I saw him. Where did he go?”
Sighing, Koreh stepped forward and then climbed onto the bed, kneeling before Sael and bringing their faces close together. “All right, then. I think he might have been one of the Taaweh.”
“That’s impossible.” Sael looked fearful.
“Don’t be stupid. You saw him. You saw how he disappeared into the shadows.” Truthfully Koreh wasn’t absolutely certain the man was Taaweh, but part of him wanted to believe it. When Sael continued to look frightened, Koreh added, “He wasn’t here to hurt us.”
“What did he want?”
Koreh saw no reason not to tell him, at least in part. “He did something to my vision. I can see… better now.”
In the bluish light that Koreh now perceived, Sael’s soft blond curls seemed to glow faintly. Sleep had softened the young man’s features, and Koreh was again struck by how beautiful he was.
“Koreh, these… beings…. Even if they are what they say they are, every dealing you have with them is leading you further away from the gods.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” Sael looked away self-consciously, as if he hadn’t meant to say it quite like that. But when he once again raised his eyes to Koreh’s, there was a vulnerability there that Koreh hadn’t seen before. Sael feared for him. Though Koreh considered it an unwarranted fear, still he felt touched by it.
In this brief moment, while Geilin and the rest of the world slept and it was just the two of them, exhausted and craving sleep themselves, that glimmer of naked emotion touched Koreh more than he had been touched in a very long time. He felt a strong desire well up in him, a desire to reach out and touch back.
Tentatively, Koreh took Sael by the shoulders and pulled him closer. When Sael raised his face to his, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and kiss him tenderly on the mouth. Sael melted into Koreh’s arms, as if part of him had been wanting this, even if he hadn’t known it. And to Koreh’s bewilderment and dismay, he found he had wanted it too.
He finally broke the kiss and gathered Sael tightly into his arms as he breathed quietly into his ear. “I still need you to keep this secret.”
“Until when?”
“Until I know what they want from me. Promise me.”
There was a long silence, then, faintly, “I promise.”
After a moment, they drew apart, and when Koreh looked into Sael’s eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, it knocked the breath out of him. He suddenly realized this had become more than just a diversion; more than an exciting adventure, escorting a mage and a nobleman across the kingdom. He’d become attached to Sael. And that realization frightened him. He suspected things were about to get very complicated.
Koreh sighed and looked away.
“We should get some sleep,” he said, his voice rough.
Sael could only nod in response. Then he lay down on his side again, leaving room for Koreh. The young man climbed underneath the blanket and lay down with his back against Sael’s.
SAEL lay there for a long time, intensely aware of Koreh pressing against him. Now that the kiss was over, embarrassment began to catch up with him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have fallen into Koreh’s arms so quickly. But the kiss had taken him by surprise, as had the intensity of his own response to it.
It was as if he’d longed to be kissed by Koreh his entire life, even before they’d met. It was insane. And now he worried his inexperience had made a fool of him.
Koreh moved, rolling toward Sael slightly to lie flat on his back, and Sael stopped breathing for a moment. There was a long pause, and then Koreh rolled onto his side again, but this time his front was pressed up against Sael’s back. Sael shivered as he felt Koreh’s breath brush the back of his neck.
He exhaled, afraid even this slight movement would cause Koreh to pull away. Instead Koreh’s hand slid under the blanket until it was resting on Sael’s hip, on naked skin, just below his undertunic. And as their breathing grew ragged together, Koreh’s hand slowly traveled up under the tunic—not between Sael’s legs, as Sael both wanted and feared, but over his bare stomach to his chest.
Koreh pulled him close, pressing his cheek against Sael’s shoulder. And though Sael could feel that Koreh was as hard as he was, his crotch pressed tight against Sael’s backside, he seemed content to do nothing more.
They lay curled up together until, eventually, both drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 14
KOREH woke in the morning with Sael wrapped in his arms. He lay there for a time, eyes closed, basking in the pleasant warmth of Sael’s lean body. Sael’s undertunic had ridden up so his naked backside was pressed against Koreh’s crotch. The memory of last night’s kiss came to Koreh’s mind, tender and soft and sweet. He could get used to this.
“Good morning,” Geilin said, and Koreh reluctantly opened his eyes. The wizard was dressed and peering out the window at a slate gray sky, rubbing the growing stubble on his head absently.
Koreh lifted his head and, feeling the movement, Sael stirred. He opened his eyes and rolled partly over to look up at Koreh’s face. For just a moment, his soft green eyes met Koreh’s and the corners of his mouth turned up in a shy smile.
Then he saw Geilin and he flushed with embarrassment. Koreh might have found it comical, except that Sael immediately pulled away and climbed out of the bed, pulling down his tunic to cover his nakedness.
“You two seem to be getting along a bit better,” Geilin remarked, obviously amused. Then he added, “You’ve missed Penent, Sael, but after last night’s ordeal, I thought I would allow you to sleep.”
“Thank you,
Master.” Sael retrieved his breeches from the floor and quickly pulled them on. “I have to find the latrine.”
“There’s a chamber pot,” Koreh said, but Sael ignored him.
Nobody said anything further until Sael had slipped out the door. Then Koreh sat up in bed, feeling cross. It hadn’t taken Sael long to spoil his good mood.
Geilin chuckled and moved to sit on the foot of Koreh and Sael’s bed. “Koreh, I think it’s time you and I had a talk.”
“I didn’t lay a hand on him,” Koreh said sullenly. “At least, not in the way you’re thinking.”
“That’s not what I wanted to talk about. Unless Sael complains to me, I have no desire to interfere in your relationship with him. No,” the old man went on, looking more serious now, “what we need to discuss is what you’ve been hiding from me.”
Koreh looked away, afraid of what might be showing in his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the wizard, exactly. But the fact was, Geilin was an ally of the Stronni. And Koreh was more and more allying himself with the Taaweh. This put them on opposite sides of a very ancient war.
“I appreciate the risks you took last night, rescuing Sael and me from Marik,” Geilin said. “But you appear to have learned some magic—at least a small amount of it—that was believed lost centuries ago. Few vönan have even heard of it, but I spent a considerable time in my younger days studying the ancient Towe ruins. What you did was reminiscent of what was described in some very old—and very fragmented—texts I once came across in the archives. I’d like to know how you came by this knowledge.”
Koreh met his gaze defiantly and said in a low voice, “What difference does it make? I saved your lives, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” Geilin replied, obviously displeased by his reticence. “You certainly did. But I’m puzzled that you’re so reluctant to answer my question.”
“You must know by now that you can trust me.”
Geilin stroked his short beard for a long time before replying, “That’s hardly the point. I do trust you. Perhaps I’m a fool. May the gods protect Sael if I am.”
“I will protect Sael!” The vehemence in his words surprised even Koreh.
Geilin looked at him with his piercing gaze for a very long time before nodding. “I believe you will. Can you at least tell me, for all our safety, what other spells you know?”
Koreh thought about this for a moment before he answered. “I can slip into the shadows. And I healed you, when you were dying from the assassin’s attack.” He suddenly recalled the Taaweh touching his side the night before and glanced down at the wound. It appeared to be nearly healed now.
“Did you?” Geilin’s eyebrows went up. “Then it appears I owe you my gratitude yet again. But now I’m even more convinced that you’ve somehow learned some of the ancient Towe magic.”
They looked each other in the eye for a long moment, Koreh wanting to tell the old man more, but unable to. They heard Sael’s footsteps approaching in the hall outside and Geilin said, “This conversation is not over.”
The door opened and Sael entered, still looking sheepish. Koreh found this irritating. Was he so embarrassed to be caught in Koreh’s embrace? Am I so beneath you, little lord?
“A fog appears to have rolled in from the lake this morning,” Geilin said cheerfully, as if he and Koreh had been discussing the weather all along. “We should be able to move about the town relatively unseen, as far as Marik and the ömem are concerned. Our first order of the day is to find out if our hosts have anything to offer for breakfast. Then we must visit an old friend of mine.”
Koreh climbed out of bed and stretched. The gash in his side throbbed, but he caught Sael looking at his naked body out of the corner of his eye, and this pleased him immensely.
“I’ll need some new clothes,” he said casually as he walked to the chamber pot and proceeded to urinate into it. “Unless you think I won’t be noticed with bloodstains running down my side.”
“I’m sure we can manage some replacements,” the wizard said. “I hope to arrange a small loan through some of the vek’s allies. I would prefer that you not avail yourself of any more… local hospitality.”
Koreh finished and shook himself. Then he picked up the stained tunic he’d been wearing and examined it. “We can switch clothes now, if you want to, little lord.”
“You’re a pig.”
Koreh clucked at him. “Listen to that. I make love to you all night long—”
“You did not!” Sael had gone positively red. “We just… Master Geilin, we did not make love all night!”
Geilin smiled and shook his head. “A pity.”
Chapter 15
THE inn offered a breakfast of bread, sausage, and ale for a few coins. The bread was stale, but otherwise the meal was passable. The innkeeper’s wife insisted on changing the dressing she’d put on Koreh’s wound, and Geilin tipped her their last coin.
“If that game of gönd was still going,” Koreh said to Sael on their way out of the inn, “I could have turned that coin into a pouch full.”
Sael ignored him. He was still annoyed with Koreh for embarrassing him in front of Geilin. Every time Koreh did something wonderful, he turned right around and spoiled it by being crude and insolent. Sael supposed it was to be expected of someone of Koreh’s social status, but still it was infuriating.
But Geilin had overheard. He waved a hand dismissively. “I think we’ll be able to manage. My friend is just a few blocks from here.”
A light drizzle was falling, and Sael had been forced to give up his cloak to Koreh. It made sense—Koreh couldn’t wander through the streets with obvious bloodstains on his clothing, so the only solution for the moment was for him to wrap the cloak around himself. But that left Sael shivering and hugging himself against the cold morning air, which didn’t help his foul mood.
The pier in Mat’zovya was similar to the one in gü-Khemed, Sael noted. A bit seedier, perhaps, and the shops along the waterfront were in disrepair. There seemed to be a number of brothels, with placards openly proclaiming rates. That would never have been allowed in the capital. Sael had heard there were brothels along the waterfront in gü-Khemed, servicing the constant flow of sailors passing through the port, but where they were, he didn’t know. He’d never asked.
There were more beggars here as well, passed out drunk in alleyways or anyplace else a spot could be found, lying on tattered blankets or their heads cushioned by bundles of clothing. Some came up to Geilin, asking for coin, but they left disappointed.
Sael screwed his face up in distaste. “You’d never see this back in the capital.”
“Do you think there were no people starving, living on the streets there?” Koreh asked, his voice taking on a surprisingly hostile tone. “There are more there than here.”
“I… it didn’t seem like that many.”
“No,” Koreh spat out, “because you never had to look at us. We were arrested if we ever went near the better parts of the city.”
“We?” Sael was once again reminded of how little he really knew about this boy he was… what? Falling in love with?
Oh gods….
Koreh seemed about to come up with some sort of angry retort, but Geilin stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. “This is the street, I believe.”
Tamod Street was more of an alley than a proper street, narrow and twisted, the mud scarred by hoofprints and deep ruts left by the wheels of peddlers’ carts. The crooked, wooden buildings along the street were mostly shops advertising an assortment of goods and services. There were tailors, sweetshops, cabinetmakers, luthiers, and fortunetellers, among others.
It was one of the latter shops that drew Geilin. The old wizard stopped before a worn wooden placard with the words “Madame Nedegh” carved into it, painted in garish purple and gold. The effect was, to put it bluntly, tacky.
“Oh, my dear Nedegh,” Geilin murmured, stroking his beard thoughtfully, “is this what’s become of you?”
Sighing,
he knocked upon the rough wooden door.
After a moment, a cantankerous old woman’s voice came from inside. “What is it? I’m not open for business when it’s overcast.”
A small slot at eye level slid open, and someone peered out at them.
“You!” The old woman sounded less than pleased to see Geilin. “Have you gone senile in your old age? Go down the road a few blocks, and then come around to the back entrance.”
The eyehole slammed shut.
This is Geilin’s friend? Sael thought.
Geilin raised an eyebrow and harrumphed. Then he turned and walked up the street, leaving the boys to follow after him. Sael and Koreh exchanged glances but didn’t think it wise to say anything.
They walked down the road until Geilin decided they’d gone far enough. Then they cut through a small alley littered with garbage, coming out in an even narrower back alley behind the shops. This was crisscrossed by clotheslines, indicating the proprietors lived in or above their shops. The companions were forced to duck damp tunics and undergarments and navigate piles of trash as they made their way back to Nedegh’s shop.
When they found it again, the back door opened before Geilin had a chance to knock. A short, rotund woman with a tattered blue veil draped around her shoulders and the double-eye tattoo of the ömem on her forehead waved them hurriedly inside. “Hurry up, you doddering old ghet!”
The moment they were inside, Madame Nedegh slammed the door shut behind them and bolted it. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in?”
She stood there with her hands on her hips, looking furious. Her hair was pulled back in a severe gray bun, and though Sael guessed she hadn’t tended to her makeup yet this morning, she was clearly fond of heavy black eye shadow. Perhaps too fond.
“Nedegh, my old friend,” Geilin said calmly. “Might I bother you for some tea?”
KOREH didn’t really like tea. But nobody had asked him, and that’s what everyone else was drinking. So that’s what he drank too. He wondered if wizards were allergic to ale. Or maybe it was just nobility, for he soon found out that Nedegh had once been part of the royal court, just as Geilin and Sael had been.