A Love Like Fire: High Fantasy M/M Romance (Juxtan Book 1)

by Tricia Owens

  Gavedon looked the other man over. Midagon's hair was now a rich sable, streaked with strands of gray. Though he couldn’t see the seer's face, the limbs that stretched the man's robes were no longer thin and bony―they held the flesh of a much younger man. A man of Gavedon's age.

  Granting Midagon his youth came with risks. Midagon had come to Shard's Point while an old man. The ability he possessed was invaluable to Gavedon and he was pleased that he had gotten a hold of the old man while Midagon had so few years left to him. It meant Midagon would be reluctantly to take his power elsewhere.

  Now, however... Gavedon looked over the man's hale limbs. Midagon now possessed the health to leave and an ability that would make him a rich man should he choose to return to the mainland. He was also a man who could reveal to others what Gavedon had been doing on Shard's Point.

  That could not be.

  Midagon howled as a fresh wave of magick struck him. Red light enveloped the man on the floor, evidence of a terrible Cast that Gavedon had witnessed in use only once before―as a Council punishment. Something seemed to tear in the air around them, a great rending that made Gavedon flinch in brief sympathy. Midagon screamed as though his heart had been ripped from his body.

  In a way, it had.

  Gavedon ended the Cast, somewhat surprised to find Midagon still conscious.

  "You are young," Gavedon told the sobbing man. "I have given you what I promised."

  Midagon let out a long, low wail. "But you took it!" he howled. He blubbered against the stones. "Oh, gods, you took it from me!"

  Gavedon felt no pity as he looked upon the other man. "Yes, I took your magick. You will never scry again, Midagon. I suggest in the years to come that you remain on the island. You are now a criminal like me, and without magick you are defenseless upon the mainland. I will shelter you for as long as you require it. I am not...insensitive to your predicament."

  "You took my magick!" Midagon moaned, rocking upon the floor. He began to keen.

  But Gavedon was already turning away from the pitiful sight. His mind was on Rhiad, and who he needed to find there.

  ~~~~~

  To prepare for his plan, Gavedon began bringing Hadrian along with him on his periodic trips to the mainland for supplies. It was not so much a desire to expand Hadrian's knowledge of the world as it was Gavedon's intention to acclimatize his son to the experience so he wouldn’t be distracted and overwhelmed when more important business in Juxtan was at hand.

  As expected, Hadrian reacted poorly to the trips. Upon reaching the Graying Cliffs, Hadrian was frightened by the Dimorada, Gavedon's fanatical worshippers who swarmed over them both in drug-fueled adoration. Even in the towns they entered, Hadrian was intimidated by the residents they came across who regarded father and son with distrust. In short, Hadrian reacted to the mainland trips precisely as Gavedon had expected: with mistrust and terror and a yearning to return to Shard's Point Isle. The mainland held nothing of interest for him, and that was a good thing.

  After three such trips, ruthlessly forcing Hadrian to overcome his fears, Gavedon was confident that Hadrian could function on the mainland as he needed without becoming distracted by its novelties. When he felt the time was right, Gavedon sought his son in his room.

  It was later in the evening than his typical visits to Hadrian, so he caught the young man unprepared. Hadrian practically fell out of his chair when Gavedon burst into the room. The book Hadrian had been reading―familiar to Gavedon, though he couldn’t see the spine―flew out of Hadrian's hands and skittered beneath the bed. Hadrian cast an anxious look at it before facing his father.

  "It’s late for you to be here," Hadrian pointed out, clearly rattled.

  Gavedon eyed him, thinking his son looked suspiciously nervous for doing something as innocent as reading, but he decided to let it pass for the time being.

  "I am entrusting you with a very important task, Hadrian. Something which must be kept private between us."

  Caution warred with interest on his son's face. "What is this task?"

  "I wish you to travel to the town of Rhiad for me."

  Hadrian's eyes grew large. "But that’s so far, I've never―" At Gavedon’s stony glare, he trailed off, his expression settling into resignation. "Is there no one else you could send in my place? You know how much I dislike traveling to the mainland. I would much rather remain here."

  "But you are the only one that I trust with this," Gavedon said. "You’re the only one who will do this correctly." He smiled. "It’s very important to me."

  A light blush of pleasure broke over Hadrian's cheeks. He had never looked more like Roisin than at that moment and Gavedon hated it. It was all Gavedon could do to keep the smile on his own face and not scowl as Hadrian said shyly, "Thank you for trusting me with something like this. What do you wish me to do?"

  "I need you to gather up all of the mercenaries in the town," Gavedon began. "I’ll give you a story to feed to them. It’s vital that they believe you."

  Gavedon explained his plan, which required that Hadrian pretend to be the son of a land owner in need of a personal army. As Gavedon spoke, Hadrian's face reflected growing confusion.

  "But why do this?" he asked when Gavedon had finished. "I don't understand. Why do you need them there on that day? And why am I pretending to be who I'm not?"

  Gavedon stepped closer until he physically loomed over his seated son. "We are sorcerers, Hadrian. The mainland doesn’t understand what we do. They fear it. They fear us. To admit that you possess the ability to magick is to invite harm upon yourself. The disguise is for your own protection." As Hadrian paled, Gavedon continued, "As to why you’re doing this, suffice to say that I have my reasons. You don't need to know them at this time. But you will. That I promise you, Hadrian. You will know everything in time."

  "You promise me," Hadrian repeated, sounding somewhat stunned that his father would make him such a thing.

  "And when you do this for me," Gavedon went on, all fatherly affection replaced by the steel that had made him the powerful sorcerer he was, "you will not fail me. Not one mercenary must be allowed to slip free of this net, do you understand? Not one."

  Hadrian shivered as he looked up. He was afraid of his father. Gavedon gave him reason to be. Moments like this, when Hadrian's fingers trembled upon his lap and his cheeks went white, were when Gavedon felt that he had done his job well. Hadrian would never kill him. Hadrian was a lamb.

  "I won't fail," Hadrian promised back. "I'll speak with every one of them."

  It was a vow Gavedon knew his son would do anything to keep.

  ~~~~~

  Less than a fortnight later found Hadrian sitting in the Bell and Buckle, one of Rhiad's most popular drinking establishments. He looked up at the blond stranger who had approached his table and felt his heart swell with desire for the very first time.

  "Heard you're looking to hire a few swords."

  ~~~~~

  Back on Shard's Point Isle, a man with sable hair and light blue eyes looked out of his room at the mainland, his gaze aimed in the direction of Rhiad.

  "You were a fool to keep me alive," Midagon muttered bitterly. His face was blank and his eyes were empty as he waited for the predicted tragedy to unfold.

  The Flame

  Chapter Seven

  The present…

  After the painful parting with Caledon in the street, Hadrian rode out of Rhiad to a dock midway between the town and Hanta. There, he boarded the small boat he had tied up there for the return trip to the island.

  He had grown to adulthood on Shard's Point while in possession of a single dream: to become a full-fledged member of the Order and make his father proud. That dream had changed. His thoughts of the future still included the Order, but they no longer revolved around it. The sun in his life carried a new face: that of a golden-haired mercenary from Rhiad.

  He hoped Gavedon liked Caledon. In fact, he prayed for it. He couldn't bear to think of what would happen if his fathe
r didn't, and the thought was so nerve-wracking that he pushed it aside to worry about later.

  The voyage was relatively short and he spent the majority of the time fantasizing about Caledon. Not long after tying up the boat at the dock on Shard’s Point’s shore, Hadrian hurried to the castle to share news of his task. His voyage must have been monitored. He found Gavedon waiting for him in his room.

  "It went well," Hadrian said, cherishing the pleasure that appeared on his father's face at the words.

  After Hadrian explained the success he'd had in convincing the mercenaries to be present in town on the appointed day, Gavedon, true to his word, declared it time to enlighten Hadrian as to the reason for his mission.

  It was not what he'd expected at all.

  "You jest," Hadrian whispered.

  Gavedon didn’t laugh nor smile. "I promised you a reason for your trip to Rhiad. I have given you one."

  Hadrian could not wrap his mind around what his father intended to do. "But―but... No. No." he said more forcefully. "What you want to do is terrible. It’s inconceivable. It’s...by the gods, it’s impossible! You can’t be serious, Father. Please tell me this isn't true." He felt his heart creep into his voice as he said beseechingly, "Please tell me this is a joke!"

  Gavedon didn’t appear amused in the slightest. "I told you the gist of Midagon's scrying. My fate is sealed unless this is done. Every one of those men is a threat to me, to the Order, and therefore to you." Gray eyes narrowed on the younger ni Leyanon. "Or would you prefer that I die?"

  "Of course not!" Hadrian blurted anxiously. He turned away, closing his eyes. "Of course not," he repeated in a softer voice. "I would never wish you harm."

  Gods, if he had known this was his father’s motivation, he wouldn't have agreed to go to Rhiad at all. But then he would never have met Caledon…Hadrian wanted to tear out his hair in frustration.

  "Then there is no debate," Gavedon declared. "You and I will return to Rhiad and deal with this."

  Hadrian spun, his mouth falling open. "You want me to help you?" He took a step back. "I can't...I can't do such a thing. Don't ask me to!" He shook his head wildly, overcome by the horror of it. "No!"

  Gavedon took a step forward, making Hadrian fall back. "You are my son, Hadrian. You wish to defend my life, do you not?"

  "You know I would! But this―" Hadrian shook his head, backing up. He thought of all of those men. He thought of Caledon. Oh, gods, Caledon―

  He jumped, startled, when his heels hit the wall of his room. He pressed back in despair as Gavedon hemmed him in. "I can’t use my magick this way, Father. Please don't make me." He shut his eyes, unable to bear the terrible demand in his father's eyes. "I can’t."

  Gavedon's breath was hot and fragrant with wine as it ran down Hadrian's face. "You would rather I die, is that it?"

  "No! But there are―there are other matters at stake," Hadrian argued lamely. The moment he said the words he knew he shouldn't have. His father was like a ferret when it came to sniffing out the few secrets of Hadrian's life. Nothing remained hidden for long. While Hadrian had planned on telling his father about Caledon eventually, now was not the time to do it.

  "What else is at stake that could be more important than your father's life?" Gavedon demanded in a steely voice.

  Hadrian despaired at his slip. "I met someone when I was in Rhiad," he began, daring a glance up into cold, hard eyes. He looked away again, feeling his cheeks warm as he thought about Caledon. "He became my friend, and I'd―I'd wanted to bring him back to live with us on the island. But he's...he's a mercenary."

  The silence seemed to affect the air, making it too thick for Hadrian to draw into his lungs.

  "If he is a mercenary, he must be taken care of along with the others."

  "No!" Hadrian shoved out from beneath his father and rushed to the center of the room. "He would never hurt you. He has no reason to. He's a kind man and light-hearted. He's no threat to you; not when he cares for me―"

  Gavedon suddenly burst into laughter. "Don't tell me someone actually took an interest in you as a lover?"

  Hadrian's face became hotter. "What if he did?"

  "I would say he’s not very selective."

  Hadrian grew angry at the smirk on his father's face, but he didn't let it show. "He likes me well enough. And I―I like him. I don't care what you choose to say about us. He's my friend and I won't have him come to harm."

  Gavedon's smirk faded. The chair at Hadrian's desk abruptly slid to the younger ni Leyanon's side, dragged there by invisible magick. A coil of rope appeared outside the window and flew in to hover above the chair.

  "Sit down, Hadrian."

  Magick forced him down into the chair and he didn't try to resist it. He waited with a clenched jaw as the rope wound itself around his chest and his wrists, binding him securely to the chair. He glared at the floor as Gavedon approached and stopped directly before him.

  "Someone took pity on you and showed you the ways of the flesh. Congratulations. You're a man, for what that's worth. Or perhaps a 'man' is too generous a term, considering what you and your mercenary lover did between the sheets. I doubt he was the one to lay and 'take it'," Gavedon sneered. Hadrian's hands fisted in humiliation. "Let me guess: you think that because this man was willing to paw at you, you two are in love, is that it?"

  Hadrian didn't bother to answer.

  Gavedon nodded knowingly. "Since you know next to nothing about these things, Hadrian, let me explain how things truly work when it comes to sex and love. When a man takes another man the way this mercenary took you, he is merely sating his lusts. That's all. He no doubt found you an easy target and took advantage of you. Men do not take other men as their lovers, Hadrian. They rut on them. That’s all. You served the same role as a hole in a fence."

  "You're wrong," Hadrian bit out in a voice that trembled. "It wasn't like that at all. He was different with me."

  Gavedon smiled indulgently. "Oh, Hadrian. Did he whisper sweet words in your ear? Did he tell you he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you? And after having been with you for only a few days?"

  Hadrian hated Gavedon. For the first time in his life, Hadrian knew what true loathing felt like. But he didn't know if the reason he was so angry was because his father was wrong―or because he was right.

  Gavedon shook his head pityingly. "He told you what you wanted to hear and like a green boy given his first taste of wine, you drank it up." His amusement disappeared and he studied Hadrian soberly. "I thought you learned this lesson with Jessyd. The outside world wishes only to use you. Whether it's your body or your magick they want, they don't really want you, Hadrian. You need to grasp that fact before it kills you. Or in this case―kills me."

  Gavedon reached down and tenderly stroked Hadrian's hair. "When your mother died giving birth to you, weeping that she would not live long enough to set eyes on your face, I vowed that I would keep you close to me. You are all that I have left of her in this world. I loved her so much. I see her in you, and I thank the gods every day for that."

  Hadrian's throat began to ache at the admission. He had never known his mother. It meant much to know that he reminded Gavedon of her.

  "I wish to grow old and watch your children play on the island, Hadrian. I want you to find happiness the way that I did, even if that joy with your mother was brief. But in order for that to happen you must do this thing with me in Rhiad." Gavedon let his hand dropped. "Otherwise my life is forfeit and the Order dissolves into memory."

  Hadrian had never imagined having children. He had never been exposed to them and so the interest had never been nurtured. He didn't know if he wanted them. But he did know that siring children meant he wouldn't be with Caledon. He wasn't willing to make that sacrifice.

  "I'm sorry," Hadrian said softly. "You know how much I love you, how much I would do almost anything for you. I want you to be proud of me. I want you to be happy with me. But I―I can't do this. What you're asking of me is impossibl
e. Surely there's some other way? I'd help you in anything else but this."

  Gavedon studied him for long moments, a half-smile on his face. Eventually he walked to the door. "I'm going to give you a moment to think on what you're saying, Hadrian. When I return, I expect you to have changed your mind."

  ~~~~~

  Midagon waited outside of Hadrian's room.

  Gavedon paused as he closed the door behind him. "What do you want?"

  "You’re finding it difficult to convince Hadrian to submit to your will?" the former seer ventured.

  Gavedon regarded him coldly. "What does it matter to you?"

  Midagon shrugged. "I came to offer my assistance. I thought the encouragement of an outside voice might move your son to reconsider. I thought I might also use certain magickal means to accomplish the task."

  Gavedon crossed his arms. Midagon knew that Gavedon was wary of him, wondering if the former seer harbored resentment toward him for stealing his magickal talent. Midagon had been very, very careful to appear as though that weren’t the case.

  "What is it you think to do? You no longer possess the ability to magick."

  A tightening of the skin around Midagon’s eyes was the only evidence that he was bothered by the reminder. He held out a fist-sized ball of glass.

  "Before I perfected my abilities to read in water, I used this. Without magick, I am unable call up visions. However, with this glass and with your assistance, I will be able to recall previous visions. They won't be visually clear, but the memories of my reading for you and the emotions they created will still be very dramatic. I think the threat you face will be very moving for him if the danger is felt, rather than merely described to him."