by T. A. Chase
“Where are you going?”
“I have to make sure the horses are settled in for the night and that the dogs have been fed. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Russell didn’t say anything after that. He closed his eyes and dozed while War was gone. He woke up when the mattress dipped and War curled up behind him. He patted War’s hand where it laid, draped over his side.
“Who betrayed you?”
His question dropped into the dark like a bomb exploding in the middle of a library. War stiffened, drawing away from him by a few inches. Russell opened his mouth to apologise and tell War to forget it.
“His name was Asad, and he was my best friend.” War’s voice emerged reluctantly from the shadows.
Wow. That had to suck, Russell thought. “What did he do? What did you do when you found out?”
“I killed him.”
Such a bald statement in so chilling a tone shot shivers all over Russell’s skin. Rolling over to his other side, he peered at War through the darkness. War lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Russell could barely see any sort of expression on War’s face. Maybe a hint of regret, but Russell assumed War had had centuries to come to terms with the fact that he’d killed his best friend.
“You killed him? Why did you do that?”
“He was the only one I trusted to tell me the truth. The only one I let close enough to know all my secrets. Asad knew just what to say to get me to attack another tribe.” War inhaled and his jaw tightened. “His lies caused the death of an entire tribe and several of my men. I couldn’t take a chance he would do it again. In addition to that, he didn’t deserve to live for the blood he spilled.”
“An eye for an eye?”
War’s head dipped slightly in agreement. “You could say that. I wasn’t a forgiving man. Not only did he break my trust, he allowed people to die for his own selfish reasons. There was no way I could allow him to continue to poison everyone’s minds.”
“Why did he do it?”
War shrugged.
“From what I figured out, it was jealousy. One of the women from the neighbouring tribe turned down his suit and married another man. Asad believed her other suitor to be a lesser man and became enraged at her refusal. He bothered her. I guess nowadays it would be known as stalking.”
Russell shook his head. “You never think things like that happened in the old days, but people are people, no matter what time period they grew up in.”
“True. Asad did everything in his power to break them up. He lied to one about the other and vice versa. Her chief came to me and I told Asad to leave it be. There were plenty of other women who would be happy to marry him.” War’s laughter was cold and harsh. “He promised me he would, but he went behind my back. One day he came to me, carrying one of the children of my tribe. She’d been raped before being killed. Asad swore to me that one of the neighbouring tribesmen had done it.”
Sorrow welled in Russell. He didn’t even know the girl, but he could imagine what had happened to her before she’d died.
“I had no way to know he lied. Asad was the one to rape her and slit her throat. He did it because he enjoyed hurting her, but also because he knew there were few things I hated more than the taking of innocent lives. So he played me and I went willingly where he led.”
War shoved off the bed and paced along the length of the room. Russell sat up, placed the pillows behind his back, and leant back on them. He watched War stride along and he could see why War’s tribe would have followed him into battle. Even though War’s confidence had taken a hit all those years ago, he still held himself with an arrogant lift to his head and strength in his shoulders. Here was a man Russell would trust to keep him safe, no matter what the situation was.
He stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt the re-telling of War’s story. Somehow he understood War needed to tell him what had happened. War might have acted like it didn’t bother him any more, but Russell could tell War lived with the consequences of Asad’s actions every minute of his unnaturally second life.
“I approached the chief of the other tribe and asked him to turn over the man Asad accused of doing it. Of course, the chief claimed he was innocent and wouldn’t allow me to punish him. I was trying to figure out a better way of handling it when another girl was raped and murdered. I was so angry, I didn’t think about anything except getting justice for the girls.”
War shook his head and wrapped his arms around his waist. Russell hated seeing the man so vulnerable, but, while his mind told him to get up and comfort his lover, Russell’s heart told him to wait. War needed to speak and if Russell went to him now War wouldn’t purge himself of all the guilt he carried.
“I gathered my warriors and we attacked the unsuspecting tribe. Since they weren’t prepared, it was pretty much a massacre. But as I was about to kill a man, he told me about Asad’s obsession with his woman. How he believed all of this stemmed from that. I didn’t believe him at first, then slowly I gathered information. Knowledge I should have looked at before we went to battle. To my everlasting shame, I realised Asad planned it from the beginning. All those people dead because I chose to believe my best friend.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You acted on information you were given at the time. It wasn’t like you had forensic capabilities back then to help you determine who did that to those girls. You trusted Asad, probably from the moment you met him, right?”
War nodded.
“Then how were you to know he was insane? It’s not like most people living next door to a serial killer know their neighbour kills people. They all say the same thing, ‘He seemed like such a nice man’. None of them ever guessed he carried women’s heads in his bowling bag.”
War snorted.
“You’re not to blame for any of it.” He caught the roll of War’s eyes and waved his hand. “Okay. You are to blame for the war, but you did it out of a belief you were doing it for the right reasons. I don’t think you can take the blame for everything, though. Asad is the one who has to shoulder all of the fault and guilt for this.”
Would War believe him?
“The same night I killed Asad, a young boy sneaked into my tent and I woke to see him standing over me with a knife. I knew he was there to kill me. I probably killed his father or someone important to him. He deserved to get his revenge on me. I let him stab me without stopping him. I told him to leave and I didn’t call out for my guards. I knew if I did, they would find me and I’d be okay.”
“You let him kill you.”
“I told you this already.” War stopped in the middle of the room, letting his chin rest on his chest, and stared at the floor. “Eventually I admitted to myself that it wasn’t the sane thing to do. I let my guilt swamp me and I understand I wasn’t thinking straight. It suited me to have the child do the killing.”
“You bled out during the night after the boy knifed you. You didn’t call out or ask for help.” Russell sighed. “Was that why you became a Horseman?”
War turned to look at him. “Why, because I died suddenly?”
“Yes. Did anyone ever explain how you were chosen to be the Red Horseman?”
“Death didn’t really say much to me. He didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions, except who the hell he was. I was kind of thrown into the deep end. Sink or swim, though I got the feeling Death wouldn’t let me drown.” War angled his head, like a thought had suddenly popped into his mind. “I wonder if you might not be on to something. I know that old Pestilence killed himself after the Black Plague took his family and all the people in his village. I’m pretty sure Famine and Death didn’t die of natural causes either.”
They were getting off topic. After standing, Russell strolled over to War. He gripped the man’s biceps and shook him a little, bringing War’s gaze on him. Those black eyes caused him to hesitate momentarily, but he braved on.
“You do accept you weren’t to blame for all of what happened before you died, right?” Russell let go of
War’s arms to cup his face in his hands. “It wasn’t your fault. No one blames you.”
“Of course people blamed me. All the families of those men I killed blamed me for it,” War pointed out.
“I bet if you went back in time to talk to them, they’d say they blamed Asad for starting the war. You were only doing what a chief would do when faced with the information you had.”
War didn’t look like he entirely believed what Russell was saying, yet there was lightness in the man’s eyes. Maybe he was getting there. Maybe hearing it over and over again would help War figure out he’d paid his debt. He didn’t need to be a Horseman and keep paying it.
Russell saw War lick his lips and dived in, no thought in his head except to taste War again. War pulled him close and Russell gasped at the rough fabric rasping against his skin. War bent and picked him up, tossing him over a shoulder before carrying him outside.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t wiggle too much. I don’t want to drop you.”
“Okay.”
Russell wasn’t interested in bugging War about things. It was time to find something else to talk about now. The serious stuff had been discussed. Easing the mood or even just having sex might be the best thing to do for both of them.
War set him down on a small hill beyond the horse pen. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”
Dropping to sit on his ass, Russell stared up into the dark sky, counting the stars above him. He’d never seen them as bright as they looked then. Not even in the backyard of his family’s house. He leant back on his elbows and simply allowed himself to be swallowed up in the thoughts of infinity and how truly small he was in the universe.
The crunch of grass under bare feet drew his gaze to War walking back up to him, carrying several blankets. He stood and helped War spread them out before lying down again. War joined him on the ground, wrapping his arms around Russell.
He trailed kisses over Russell’s jaw, taking nips along the way. Russell ran his fingers down War’s spine, discovering which caress drew moans and shivers from War. He tipped his head back, giving War more access to his skin and he sighed as War flicked his nipple with the tip of his tongue.
Holding the back of War’s head, he kept the man focused on his chest. Teeth scraped over the nub of flesh and he arched, wanting more. He brushed his fingertips down to the base of War’s spine, lightly rubbing until War whimpered and wiggled.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He slipped one of his fingers along the crease of War’s butt, stopping to press against War’s hole.
War paused and looked up at him. “I didn’t bring anything out with me.”
“We can use spit and just take it slowly. I don’t want to hurt you.” Russell kissed his cheek.
“What about protection?”
Russell hesitated for a second, and then continued, “I’m negative. Been tested almost every month while I was in the hospital. I’m not sure what they were worried about. I didn’t get any blood transfusions or anything like that.”
“I’m negative as well, considering HIV wasn’t around when I was mortal.” He frowned. “Well, it’s possible it was around, but I got tested once when the epidemic started, just to be sure. Death thought I was an idiot because Horsemen can’t get sick. I only wanted to be sure. Also, I’ve used protection ever since it became available. Not just with the men I’ve fucked.”
Russell grinned. “I’ve used protection for most of the time I’ve fucked anyone. Once or twice I got carried away, but it’s been a while since that happened.”
They stared at each other. Both realised how important this moment was for their relationship. Going bareback meant they trusted each other more than they’d ever trusted anyone before. Russell lifted his hand to touch War’s face with gentle fingers. War turned his head and kissed Russell’s fingertips.
Together, they nodded. Their relationship had started with the possibility of Russell’s death and a rescue from War. They hadn’t really got to know each other, but living together for however long Russell chose to stay in Mongolia would help them take care of that. Every instinct in Russell screamed to hold on to War as tightly as possible and never walk away.
War had seen him freak out a couple of times and hadn’t run away at the first sight of Russell’s mental issues. Russell drew War closer, bringing their bodies together and setting about showing War how he felt about him.
Chapter Ten
Neighing woke War the next morning. He stretched and his hand hit the empty blanket next to him. Sitting up, he looked around to see if he could spot Russell somewhere. There, standing next to the fence, Russell was stroking one of the horses and it looked like he was talking to it.
War smiled and stood. He ignored the fact that he was naked and strolled over to Russell. During the dry season, when the temperatures grew ungodly hot, he often wandered around his yard naked. Since there weren’t any trees, he had a clear three hundred and sixty degree view of the steppes around him. No one could sneak up on him, which eased the warrior inside him.
He encircled Russell’s waist, and drew the man back against him. Russell relaxed, covering War’s hands with his own.
“Good morning, Russell. How do you feel today?” He brushed his lips over the soft skin behind Russell’s ear.
“I’m doing well. A little sore from sleeping outside on the ground.” Russell turned his head to give War a kiss. “How about you?”
“Yeah. I’m sore, but not from sleeping on the ground. I usually spend most nights outside while I’m moving around with the horses.” He rested his chin on Russell’s shoulder, studying his horses as they milled around the pen. “I have to go clean up. We have to get the horses moving out to better grazing. Would you be up to camping out for a day or two?”
Russell laughed. “I used to camp out in the sand and mountains while I was stationed in Afghanistan. I think I can handle sleeping out under the stars with you. It would probably be more interesting.”
“Great.” War kissed the side of Russell’s neck once more before he stepped back. “Let’s get dressed and head out.”
“Sounds good to me.”
After washing, they packed two sets of saddlebags. War saddled two horses while Russell cleaned the hut. He whistled and held up his arm. Singqor screamed, warning him right before he landed. War bent his knees and absorbed the bird’s weight. The gyrfalcon flapped his wings once before settling down.
“Are you bringing him with us?” Russell asked as he joined him down by the pen.
“Yes. He’ll help us catch food for dinner. Besides it’s getting close to the time when I need to let him go back into the wild. He needs to get used to being outside and not sheltered in the shed.” War stroked the back of one finger over Singqor’s breast feathers.
Russell set the saddlebags over the rumps of both horses and swung up onto his mount’s back. He smiled at War. His bright green eyes were filled with happiness. Happiness looked good on him and War vowed to keep his lover looking like that for as long as they were together.
“Ready?”
War launched Singqor into the air. They watched the gyrfalcon pump his wings and lift his body up to the thermals where he flew in lazy circles, and War mounted. The horse shifted slightly, getting used to his weight. He never rode the same horse. He swapped them out at lunchtimes. He wanted them to get used to humans, so it would be easier to sell them to others.
He whistled for the dogs to start moving the herd out of the pen and on to the steppes. The horses tossed their heads and whinnied as they moved past him. War understood how they felt. Excitement flared in him at the thought of being on the move again.
No matter how long he lived, the nomadic lifestyle never left him. He didn’t like staying in one place for long. Home for him wasn’t an actual building, but any place where he could see the sun in the wide-open blue sky. Or the moon and stars without the pollution of man-made lights. The sound of the horses moving reminded him of his ori
ginal life, spending his days hunting with his fellow warriors.
Many nights he’d spent lying on the ground, staring up at the black velvet sky. He remembered the names of the constellations, or what his people had called them. His memories were different from the modern scientific versions. War allowed himself to relive happier moments of time spent with family and friends.
The only memories he didn’t revisit or think about were ones involving Asad. His best friend had been part of most of his memories since he’d been a child. They’d been inseparable from their fifth season, becoming warriors the same year. When War became chief, Asad had become his most trusted friend.
Asad had managed to keep his jealousy and his arrogance hidden from War long enough for War’s world to fall apart. Asad’s shocked expression had been burned in his brain from the instant when War had sliced Asad’s throat. His friend had never thought War would kill him.
Had Asad believed he would get away with it? Had he really thought no one would have told War the truth? Had he seen War’s dislike of fighting as weakness and not been worried about any kind of punishment?
War kept his gaze on the herd, making sure none of them straggled or got left behind. Russell rode alongside him, quietly absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of the world around them. War could ride the trail with his eyes closed and had done so more than once.
He let his mind wander back to the moment the knife had cut into Asad’s flesh. The horrified knowledge that he’d killed his best friend struck him and his hands trembled. War should have taken Asad captive and allowed the other tribe to deal with him, but there hadn’t been any tribesmen left. His warriors had killed them all, and he didn’t have a choice. He was the one who had to pass judgment and execute the punishment.
War knew Asad’s punishment would have been death. There was no way anyone would have allowed Asad to live after what he’d done to those girls and also for causing unnecessary war between two tribes. War had had no choice but to exterminate the cancer before Asad infected anyone else.