An End to Summer

by Diana Rose Wilson

  That is not true, Zan’Dar!

  “That is not true, Zan’Dar!”

  Both mounts and man gave echoing denials.

  “Then why does my mount tell me that stallions do not wish to be mounted as though he sees me as less than a man while you refuse my advances and expect our sister to be stronger than even you are?”

  Bennonton’s eyes closed and he uttered a soft groan.

  He has suffered in war and some wounds have yet to heal. He fears for our little sister, but he has also done his duty to the crown, Chirmeng whispered to him directly.

  Suffered in war?

  Zan’Dar blinked away his tears and looked at his lover who held his face in his hands as though he were struggling with the weight of something horrible. He realized that the confrontation had lanced open the festering wound the man had been nursing in his heart. Now, the injury he never even told Zan’Dar about was stripped and raw.

  “I didn’t know,” Zan’Dar said, moving to kneel beside the big man.

  “How could you? You never asked. You assumed I was untouched by death and killing?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “And show that I’m weak?” Bennonton asked, reaching for Zan’Dar’s hands, pulling them to his face, nuzzling his knuckles. “When you never asked again about a change in our hierarchy, I thought you were happy, beloved. I thought you understood what happened to me.”

  “How could I have?” He squeezed his fingers and leaned closer, kissing Bennonton’s forehead.

  “You know so many things without ever being told. I thought the mounts told you. I was ashamed and feared you would see my weakness. I don’t think I can stand you looking at me like I’m some broken thing.”

  “I would never think less of you, love. I want you to talk with me about everything. Everything!” He freed one hand to cup Bennonton’s cheek and then pulled him in for a tight hug. “Gods and devils, man! I love you. I didn’t know you suffered a harm. I might have helped you.”

  Mortari whispered softly, emotions still a jumble of fear from being shut away, Here, rider. As he had that first day of their union, the mount showed him the old injury that was less in the man’s body than in his heart and soul. How did one heal such a thing? Even as he formed the question, the mount was showing him, explaining how he might manipulate that gleaming energy like a tool to sharpen and cut away the burned, festering memories and soften them. Ease them here and tuck them there.

  Bennonton let out a soft breath and leaned against his side as though he felt the first touch and that lightened those old scars. He blinked up at Zan’Dar, frowning slightly. “How?”

  Helplessly, Zan’Dar shook his head. There was no way to explain the way the mount, his amazing Mortari could channel him like this. Why didn’t it harm his soul as he’d been taught?

  Because we are pure of heart, you and I, Lifebreather. I guard and shield you. The love from Mortari swept around him and Bennonton’s on the other as they remained there for a time, carefully plucking out thorns from the other’s soul. The powerful warrior had carried the heavy burden and had never showed a sign of his suffering.

  “You must talk to me,” Zan’Dar whispered when he’d done his best. It wasn’t perfect, but they had many years to fix the damage completely.

  “I…I am sorry I kept all of this from you,” Bennonton said after a long silence and he kissed Zan’Dar’s cheek. “Let us go for a ride and we can talk. I don’t wish to discuss these things here among these…people.”

  Zan’Dar hugged Mortari’s neck after he stood, “I’m sorry, love.” He whispered and scratched the elegant ears as the mount snorted quietly.

  You are no mare, Zan’Dar. There is nothing like you in all the worlds. We should have helped your beloved long ago. Forgive me for not pressuring my prideful brother before. He thought it best to let things stand. He did not believe we could help them.

  Even Chirmeng caressed Zan’Dar with grateful and heartfelt affection for what he’d done. He hoped it was enough. Although it might not solve their problem with the princess, perhaps it would heal the strange rift that had stretched between them. He never realized how much it had grown until he was able to throw the wall up between them.

  They told no one of their departure, riding into the forest together. For a long while they simply galloped down the path until suddenly Chirmeng plunged off the familiar road and into the woods themselves. Mortari gave chase, swiftly catching him up and they cantered shoulder to shoulder. Free. They were free! Away from the horrible castle of an enemy they had to sell their sister to. Right now, it was only them and their mounts, as it should be.

  They came to a clearing in the forest and Bennonton held up a hand, Chirmeng slid to a sudden stop. Mortari snorted and was slower to halt, reaching out with a soft mental question to their group.

  “You see that?” Bennonton asked, squinting through the line of trees and used the hand to point.

  Zan’Dar drew his attention away from Mortari’s irritation over the delay and focused into the distance. At first, he didn’t see anything except the green of the forest, lush with the early spring growth. Then the huge beast came from behind the tree and he sucked in a sharp breath. It was an enormous, fire-red creature with a single horn spiraling from its forehead. No stag had ever been that large, but it had the look of one in gigantic proportions. Large shoulders were ruffed with a mane of lush burgundy fur, darker than the red of its body.

  “What is that?”

  “My mount-to-be,” the general said with confidence and swung down from the saddle with a bold flourish.

  “What? What are you talking about? That’s no mount.”

  “Ah, no. That is a deity of the forest. One of the Honored. The fact that it’s here, so close to the palace must mean it is searching for…oh. Gods above, Zan’Dar, look.”

  He saw it without needing to be instructed. A second beast, smaller than the first, the coat so dark it was almost black, with dapples of brilliant red over its hips and haunches. Clearly that was the female of the pair. She had an unmistakable feminine quality. She was elegant in the leg with refined shoulders and a long, swan-neck rather than the bull thickness of her companion. The white spiral of her horn was a singular corkscrew of brilliant silver.

  Two, Mortari’s quiet whisper was filled with awe and the stallion quivered with excitement. One is a good omen, but two?

  Bennonton gave Chirmeng’s shoulder a pat and brazenly walked into the clearing before Zan’Dar could stop him. He ignored the whispered urging to come back. Zan’Dar didn’t want his lover anywhere near those spiral horns or trampling feet.

  It might have been the sound of his hissed warnings or the general’s movement which drew his attention. The male lifted his muzzle up from grazing. A tuft of grass dangled from one corner of its dark muzzle. The vivid lilac eyes pinned Zan’Dar first and a hot wave of interest brushed over him. It was as though the whole of his life had been flipped through like a book and for the length of time their gazes held, the beast measured him and all of his qualities. All of his flaws were stacked up and weighed against perfections on a lofty, godly scale. Zan’Dar longed to be worthy of that regard. He sensed the beast’s sharp pang of deepest disappointment and then a firm yet careful shove away from his mind.

  No, his voice boomed through his head followed by a softer whisper, an echo, There is something about you…but, no. You are not for me.

  Bennonton was much more affected by the rejection. He let out a low, forlorn cry of disappointment. Then he bowed low, his expression twisted with shame. “Not worthy?” he asked, voice humble and full of sadness. His golden eyes gleamed with tears.

  The beast huffed out a tremendous sigh at being disturbed from his meal and resumed chewing. He flicked an ear. “No, child. What do the Lord General, second Prince, and his consort want?” he asked, in perfectly intelligible spirit-tongue around the grass. In fact, his voice had a lovely, lyrical quality.

  “Oh, brother. Do
not be cross,” the female said, laughing softly as she brushed by him and also had a look.

  Her touch was less invasive and abrupt. She was kinder in her assessment, but just as firmly a negative. “They are very nice boys. Pretty boys.”

  “Will you select one of them to run for, my sister?” he asked without much interest.

  “I think not. Not them. Mmm…Not running. No, no. But, brother, they are fine boys.”

  “So you say.”

  Bennonton found his voice as he bowed forward. “What brings you here if not to find a rider?”

  “I search,” the bull said. His lovely voice was loud and now laden with frustration. “And I search. While every small minded, petty, greedy, desperate little lordling flings himself into my path.” He stomped a cloven hoof that shook the ground and snarled, lips drawing back from his teeth. His voice turned angry. “It will be the end of forever before I find the one worthy.” It became a shout at the end, sharp with the note of anger. “How dare you question Me! I am Bringer of the Reverent Dawn and I will decide who walks the path with me.” The words rang off the trees, a clarion cry full of longing and rage.

  “Dramatic,” the female sighed and nuzzled at the male’s jaw. “My brother and I have also come, during our search, to greet the great and powerful high lords who are forming a most unusual union. We hear so much. We listen and learn, and we understand peace may be at hand. This makes us very curious indeed. Hunters, spirit-kin and these Kyrie of Klorwur joining households? My, my yes, we’ve heard so very much about this.”

  Zan’Dar found his voice at last. “So, you both search for riders?”

  Her fluted ears perked forward and she gave a graceful arch of her neck that seemed like a regal nod. “Seeking and searching in vain. However, we are also explorers and give our blessings, at times.” Her eyes were like the male’s, bright purple, but hers gleamed with amusement. “I am called, Seeker of Joy. Do not let my brother’s bad humor unsettle you. He has need of manners.”

  The huge bull snorted and rolled his eyes, returning his attention to nibbling grass again as his flowing tail swished around his haunches with agitation. “You are insufferable, you dirty hind.”

  She only laughed brightly. “Poor, wretched, brother.” Her attention returned to Zan’Dar and then Bennonton who still looked utterly defeated. “Ah, my prince.” She stepped closer to Bennonton and bowed down to him, lightly nuzzling his cheek. “Do not suffer so. It is not your fault two pieces do not fit. A partnership with our kind is not for honor, glory or gold. It is not a badge to wear upon your coat, nor trophy to keep. Go to your beloved. See how he loves you? There is more joy in that. It is beautiful.” There was such a smile to her voice. A delighted glow danced and shimmered about her like starlight.

  Bennonton looked at Zan’Dar and his expression only grew more stricken. “Ah, Bright-eyes!” He returned to Zan’Dar, reaching up to cup his hands over his cheeks. His fingers were hot as he held the gaze and whispered, “Forgive me. Forgive me. I did not mean….”

  Zan’Dar felt a moment of confusion and then gasped at the warm caress along the lovely bond that joined them. Bennonton thought he was unworthy because neither of those strange forest beasts wanted him. Am I a disappointment to you? his voice was a soft whisper in his mind. It had hurt him to be pushed away earlier and this only deepened the cut despite the healing.

  Never, Zan’Dar responded at once, letting him feel the warmth of love and desire and happiness he experienced. He pulled the man in closer, wrapping an arm around him. “I will get off this mount and show you right here in actions if word and thought are not enough.”

  The doe laughed her delight. “I shall take my leave, sweet, darling princes. We shall meet again. Very soon I think. Enjoy each other, beautiful boys.” And she ghosted to her brother’s side, nipping at his flank. Deftly she bullied the larger beast towards the deeper forest where they vanished into sunbeams and shadow leaving no mark on the place, as though they had never existed.

  With a soft growl, Bennonton pulled him physically from Mortari’s back. Zan’Dar didn’t resist, swinging his leg over at the last moment and went willingly into the big man’s arms, sliding arms around his shoulders.

  “My prince, I’m sorry the deity did not select you.” He felt Mortari and Chirmeng both reaching to comfort his beloved. They were mental caresses in time with his fingers brushing down the man’s cheek and then along his jaw until he could stroke through the gleaming bright crest of feathers.

  A low, broken moan escaped him as he rocked forward, pressing Zan’Dar into Mortari’s flank. “I have all that I need,” his voice went husky, soft kisses turning rough as they traced from lips to ear. “I am rich beyond measure to have you my beautiful, bright-eyed boy.”

  It didn’t matter that Zan’Dar was a man grown. It made his cock hard and his heart pound to be that man’s boy. Made small and weak in his arms.

  “I love our union and I love you. I cannot stand that you see me as less than a man.”

  “Zan’Dar!” Bennonton’s voice cracked on his name. “I see you as more than just a man. You are my man and my love and my heart.” His hand pressed over his chest. “Wild warlord that you are, spirit-kin.” Slowly his hand strayed lower and finally cupped over his cock, squeezing knowingly through the soft breeches. “How can I see you as anything other than fully male when you are huge and proud in my hand.” Lowering his voice, he whispered, “And maybe I’m intimidated that you will hurt me with this huge sword when you claim me.”

  The prince’s teeth teased the lobe of his ear, tongue teasing the gem that pierced it and was still so tender it sent a lance of pain and pleasure through him. With a strangled moan, Zan’Dar rocked into the hand that stroked his cock through too many layers of clothing. He needed to feel the man’s fingers around him, gripping him, squeezing his shaft. He longed for the warm, rough texture of him.

  “Please. Oh fuck! I need…I….need….”

  “I know, darling. I feel your hunger,” Bennonton’s voice whispered against his ear, husky and hot. His grip shifted and deftly thick fingers unfastened his laces and slid under the velvet fabric to stroke and then grasp over his length. It was a slow caress up with Bennonton’s fist squeezed around him and then back down. As Zan’Dar spread his thighs, his fingers cupped over his balls.

  Together they moaned and Zan’Dar raked his fingers down the man’s fine doublet, pulling open buttons and untangling the ribbons of his shirt so he could pull it open and bare his glorious chest. The crisscross of scars so glorious across the hard ivory of his body and the impossible crimson down. The muscles tightened under his seeking fingers and Bennonton hissed in pleasure as his mouth kissed down his neck to one of the silvery scars running from collar bone to nipple. Bennonton only let him tease his way to the nipple and swirl his tongue around once before grabbing his hair to pull his head back.

  “No. Not yet. Let me satisfy your hunger first.” Bennonton’s eye burned with desire as he licked his lips and his other hand caressed lower over Zan’Dar’s balls, making his cock buck.

  They made love in the grassy clearing. Several times. Bennonton as always was a skillful and gentle lover as he sucked and licked ever drop of cum from Zan’Dar, and then, so sweet and shy, he rolled them into the grass and gazed up at Zan’Dar who straddled his bare hips. “I want you to claim me, love.”

  Zan’Dar shook away the heady buzzing in his head from his orgasm and leaned down to kiss his lover. “You don’t have to do that. I understand now why you don’t want it.” Despite the assurance, his cock still responded to the idea with a bob that made a trickle of pre-cum glisten at the swollen head.

  “Do you know what the deity said? He told me I was selfish and greedy. That I was not worthy to walk the path with him because I have not been ready to fully embrace you, my heart-match, as an equal. An equal means that I trust you as you trust me.” He pulled Zan’Dar in close and sucked lingeringly at his lower lip. “Ah, and I see now how I’ve let
my fears and self-centered pleasures insult you, my love. We cannot live our lives forever this way. I’ve been controlling everything.”

  Zan’Dar returned his kisses and slid his hands down his perfect chest and the downy red feathers as he caressed lower until he could wrap his fist around the proud cock. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He shivered. Rather than the revulsion and fear he expected to see in his golden gaze, he only saw need and desire. “Do I hurt you? Those sweet, hungry sounds you make when I have you pinned…mmmm…I don’t think those are from pain.”

  His cock answered with a pulse, bobbing in the grip that held him so lovingly. “The first time—oh gods! It did but…So good.”

  “I want to know what that is like too, my love.” Color spread across his cheekbones as he rolled onto his hip and then onto all fours, offering up his exquisite ass. When Zan’Dar smoothed his hand over his naked flank, the muscles tightened and when he slapped his palm against his ass he growled in pleasure, arching his spine and spreading his thighs.

  Kneeling behind him, he kissed down his spine to the sweet cleft of his ass, and reaching under him, he stroked his cock while nibbling and licking his way between his powerful ass. The scent of him was a delicious heat as he lapped from his balls up to his pucker, swirling his tongue around that delicate star.

  “A shame I can’t knot you, my Lord,” he whispered, delighting at the soft, desperate sounds of pleasure her lover made.

  “Oh gods. Zan’Dar! Ughn!” Bennonton throbbed in his hand as he stroked him and tongued his sweet, tight ass. His virgin warrior.

  He wanted to make it so hot and sexy that the huge warrior was addicted to the feel of him deep in that sweet, tight pucker just as he was a slave to the big man pinning him.

  Lubing up that tight pucker with his tongue, he used a finger to stretch him carefully wider and wider until Bennonton was bucking between his hands, trapped between fist that circled his cock and the fingers stuffed into him.