by T. A. Chase
“Are you okay?”
He started when Russell reached and touched his hand. War blinked and realised his cheeks were wet. He swiped his sleeve over his face to dry it off.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
Russell tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. War laughed softly.
“Really, I’m fine. Just remembering some stuff. Memories I don’t usually allow myself to think about.” War eased his horse closer to Russell’s and laid his hand on Russell’s arm.
“Well, at least you don’t go catatonic or hallucinate when you remember things.”
“Maybe not, but I’ll admit I haven’t allowed myself to think about the last day of my life. Too much sorrow and pain for my mind. It’s easier to push the memories to the back of my brain and go on.”
Russell pursed his lips. “I wish I could do that. Instead of letting my mind take over and drag me some place I never want to be again.”
War shrugged. “I’m not sure which would be better.”
They rode in silence for several minutes, letting their minds wander. War went back to the day he’d become chief. How proud he’d been and how it had seemed like he’d achieved all his life goals in that moment. There was nothing else to strive towards except maybe finding a woman and having children.
As odd as it seemed at that moment, riding beside a man he was falling in love with, War had looked forward to falling in love with one of the women in his tribe and fathering children. When he’d been alive, he’d never thought about another man in sexual terms. Yet through the centuries he’d lived as a Horseman, War had learnt that love came in every size and gender. After so many decades, it didn’t matter whether he slept with a man or a woman. Pleasure was pleasure, and how he achieved climax had no longer been important.
The tribe had cheered when the medicine man had placed the crown of date palm leaves on his head, proclaiming him chief. He’d won the primary challenge and taken his place at the head of the tribe. The former chief had died and every able-bodied warrior had been given a chance to take over the role of headman.
War had survived the fights and taken his place as the leader of the tribe. He’d been a good leader, knowledgeable of where the tribe could find the best water and hunting. They rarely fought with other tribes except for the last time and look what happened the one time he led them into battle.
“Were you a good chief?” Russell broke the silence and War glanced over at him.
“I think so. I became chief when I had seen twenty-five seasons. In all that time, my tribe never went hungry. The only time we went to war was with the tribe Asad set up for us to destroy.”
He didn’t want to sound like he was bragging. God knew he wasn’t proud of what he’d done to the other tribe. Russell met his gaze and lifted a shoulder.
“Sounds like you weren’t too bad as a leader.”
Snorting, War grimaced. “Look what my last day as chief ended up doing. I massacred an entire tribe because my best friend lied to me.”
“Ah well, that’s not your fault. It’s Asad’s because he couldn’t deal with being rejected. If it’s not my fault Jimmy and the medic died, then it’s not your fault Asad chose to use you as the instrument of his revenge.” Russell wrinkled his nose. “I’ll admit I’m not a therapist, so take what I said for what it’s worth.”
“Are you saying I should take my own advice? I say you shouldn’t feel guilty for them dying during war, and you tell me it’s not my fault I believed a man I’d considered more than just a friend. Asad was my brother in every way except blood.” War heard the amusement in his voice. “I never could do what I say.”
Russell didn’t say anything, just nodded.
They were going in the opposite direction from the day before. The dogs kept the horses moving in a slow steady stream. Once they reached the small river about four hours from the house, they would stop for lunch and to allow the horses to drink. The grazing acreage he used was another hour on the other side of the river. They would end up camping out for several days while the horses ate their fill.
Singqor screeched loudly and dove. They watched the gyrfalcon pluck a mouse from the underbrush.
“Is that what he’ll be catching for our dinner?”
War looked at Russell and chuckled. “You don’t like mouse?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had it. We’d have to collect an ungodly amount of them to fill just one of us.” Russell rolled his eyes. “I know they have like a million babies at one time, but I still think Singqor would get tired before we had enough to eat.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. When it’s time for dinner, Singqor will catch us something bigger than a mouse. He’s catching himself a snack.”
Russell wiggled his eyebrows and War laughed. He paused, trying to remember when the last time he’d had such fun with anyone had been. More years than he hated to think about came to mind. For centuries, he’d let himself become more isolated, rarely coming into contact with any human, only the native nomads who herded their horses around the steppes and Death, who would come to get him for a mission.
War hated to see his pale comrade because he knew it meant he would have to go somewhere in the world and start a war. Mortals would kill and die, all to keep balance between good and evil. Yet War didn’t know how mortals fighting each other balanced the world. Death told him not to worry about it. Do what he was told and accept people would die.
Russell started humming as they continued their ride. War whistled occasionally to the dogs, making sure they kept the herd moving in the right direction. The horses ignored him and Russell for the most part, grazing slowly along the remembered trail.
Finally they reached the river and he brought his horse to a halt.
“It’s time for lunch. We’ll rest here for an hour, then move on to the night grazing land.”
Russell groaned as he clambered off his horse. He watched as War unsaddled the mare Russell had ridden, and rubbed her down before letting her return to the herd. War did the same thing to his own gelding and then took the saddlebags over to the riverbank. He spread out some blankets and sat on them. Russell joined him as War glanced around, checking to make sure there weren’t any snakes around. The dogs would keep an eye out as well.
“Do you want to eat first? Or would you rather take a dip in the river before we have lunch?”
“I would love to take a quick swim.”
“So would I.”
War stood, and stripped, managing not to fall over when his gaze landed on Russell’s naked ass as Russell kicked off his pants before sliding into the water. War entered the water and shuddered at the chill shattering over his flesh. He dropped under the surface, letting the clean water wash over him and holding his breath until his lungs burned.
He broke into the air, gasping as his head hit the surface. He filled his body with oxygen and coughed when he swallowed some water. A splash caught his attention and he spied Russell swimming happily around in the river. With a smile, War slipped under the water again and swam along to where Russell stood on the sand.
He reached out and wrapped his hand around Russell’s ankle. He yanked and Russell flailed into the water. They played in the water like children, splashing and shouting. War scooped water into his hands and tossed it at Russell, who ducked and dived to tackle War into the river.
They pressed their bodies together and War gasped as he felt his erection rubbing against Russell’s. He threaded his fingers in Russell’s hair, and brought Russell’s mouth to his. Their chilly lips met and they kissed, finding joy in the day and their time together.
War eased back slowly, reluctant to break the kiss, but not wanting to make love in the river. He took Russell’s hand and led his lover from the water to the blankets. They dropped to their knees, kissing for a few minutes before lying down. War braced himself on his elbow to stare at Russell.
He ran his finger down Russell’s nose and over his mouth, pinching Russell’s bottom lip between his thumb and
finger and giving it a tug. Russell swiped his tongue over the tip of War’s finger. He pressed it into Russell’s mouth and gasped as Russell sucked on it.
“Shit,” he swore in a soft voice, grinding his cock against Russell’s hip.
Russell laughed and arched, flipping them so he was on top. War didn’t mind. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin, giving Russell all the skin he wanted. Russell nibbled his way down War’s throat to flick the man’s nipple with his tongue.
War groaned and arched his back. He cupped the back of Russell’s head, keeping Russell focused on War’s nipples. Of course, Russell refused and moved down to dip his tongue into War’s belly button. War huffed, and then groaned when Russell took War’s cock into his mouth.
Russell teased and sucked while War wiggled, absorbing the sensations of Russell working his shaft like a pro. War let his thighs fall open, allowing Russell to settle between them. The wet touch of fingers warned him a second before Russell breached his hole with them.
Pleasure coursed through him as Russell stretched the ring of muscles protecting his inner passage. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the feelings of Russell surrounding him in every way. It wasn’t long before his climax threatened to overwhelm him, but he didn’t want to come unless Russell was inside him.
War froze, and tapped Russell’s shoulder. “Honey, I’m gonna come any second now. I need you inside me.”
Russell pulled away from him with a happy grin. “I’ll be glad to take you.”
They both winced as Russell pushed into War. Burning pain turned into desire as War grew used to being filled with Russell. Reaching out, War fisted the blankets on each side and nodded. Russell began moving, slow and steady at first until he found the right rhythm to make War cry out with each stroke.
War wasn’t ashamed at the noises he made while Russell fucked him. First of all, there wasn’t anyone around to hear them, and secondly, he wanted his lover to know how much he enjoyed their lovemaking.
“War!” Russell shouted as he slammed into War and came, flooding War with hot liquid.
“Yes.” War grunted and came as well, spilling his seed all over his stomach.
Russell collapsed on him and they lay, stuck together by the drying cum on War’s stomach. War closed his eyes and drifted, listening to the sounds of the horses moving around them and Russell’s panting. Soon his own heartbeat evened out and he smoothed his hand down Russell’s back.
“Do we have time for a nap?” Russell questioned quietly.
“Not really. We need to get the herd moving to the night grazing grounds.” War sighed. “We can go to bed early tonight if you want.”
“I’ll be okay. I just like to cuddle after I have sex, and I haven’t had a lot of chances to do that.” Russell nuzzled War’s chin.
“I think we can do that for a little bit.” He gathered his courage. “Russell, I wanted to let you know something.”
Russell stiffened and rose a few inches to look down at him. “That doesn’t sound good.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable with the way Russell was studying him. “I hope it’s good news, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“Just come out and say it before I start to panic.”
A brief snort of laughter escaped from War. Russell wasn’t the type to panic and he doubted Russell would worry about anything War had to say.
“All right. I really like you.”
Russell’s shoulders slumped and he heaved a relieved sigh. “Thank God. I thought you were going to tell me I had to leave or that you were married.”
“Married? Trust me, I wouldn’t have done anything with you if I were married.” War shook his head. “What kind of man do you take me for?”
“I didn’t really think you’d do something like that, but you never know. It was possible.” Russell grinned at him. “I will say I’m falling for you.”
“Seriously?”
Russell pursed his lips for a moment while he thought. “Yes, seriously. I can’t say for sure it’s love, because I’ve never been in love before, but I do care for you. I love the sex, but that’s not all I like. I love talking to you or just riding the horses and not saying a word.”
“Sometimes silence is the best way of telling how well you get along with someone. If you can stand being with the person when it’s quiet, then you might be able to deal with the loud times.” War met Russell’s amused gaze. “Did that make any sort of sense?”
“I got the gist of it.” Russell climbed to his feet and held out a hand to War. “Let’s wash and get dressed. After all the fun, I’m hungry.”
War let Russell pull him up and they headed back into the chilly water. A quick rinse, and they dried before getting dressed. They sat and ate, no words necessary between them. Their feelings were out in the open and they would have to see where it all went from that moment on. Out on the steppes there weren’t any distractions and they only had each other to talk to.
“You remember who you were from before you died?” Russell asked, looking up from the fruit he ate.
War nodded. “Yeah. I never forgot anything about my life. My name was Baqir and I was the chief of the Al Sidah tribe.”
“Did you go back to look in on them when you realised you weren’t really dead?”
“Once. Death told me I wasn’t supposed to have anything to do with my old life. I chose to leave it, so I had no right to go back to it.”
“You know, Death sounds like a bastard,” Russell said.
War thought about Russell’s comment for a moment. Death could be an asshole when he wanted to be, but War always got the feeling it was because Death didn’t want them longing for something they couldn’t have back. Also, it struck War as being part of Death’s personality. The Pale Rider didn’t like to show how much he cared for his fellow Horsemen, probably because, if he did, he could get hurt.
Yet War had a feeling Death had helped Pestilence—or Aldo as he was now known—to find his way back to the mortal world. Maybe their fearless leader understood how they felt, even though he didn’t show it very often.
“I’m sure he has a right to be. I mean no one wants to see him. He’s Death, the guy who will escort you to the gates. How often is he greeted with happiness and joy?” War lifted a shoulder. “Also, I don’t think he regrets whatever he did in the mortal world to earn his position as a Horseman.”
“Do you regret it?” Russell finished his lunch and leant back on his hands, watching the river flow by.
“Yes, I do, and I know for a fact Aldo and Famine both regret how they ended up as one of us.” War paused while he gathered his thoughts, and then continued, “We not only regret our premature deaths, but the circumstances leading up to our deaths. I don’t know what the others did, but I assume it was something that caused them to feel guilty.”
Russell let his head drop back, and with his eyes closed he looked like he was soaking up the sun’s rays. It was a beautiful sight and War’s heart kicked in his chest. Shit! He couldn’t be falling in love. Not this soon. He admitted he felt something special for Russell, but was it love?
You’re an idiot. Death’s voice echoed through his head.
Maybe I am. He would freely admit to being an idiot. What makes you call me that?
You’ve loved him since the moment you first laid eyes on him. What’s holding you back from telling him all the deep emotions swirling in your heart?
War rolled his eyes and he must have made some sort of noise because Russell opened one eye and looked at him.
“Yes?”
“Nothing.” War gathered up all the food and stuffed what was left into their saddlebags.
You can’t run from the truth, War, and the truth is staring you in the face.
Since when did you become a matchmaker?
Since I realised the rest of you weren’t happy doing what you’ve been drafted to do.
And you are?
War managed to get two horses out of the herd and
saddled while waiting for Death to answer him. He waved Russell over to give him a leg up. Before mounting, Russell brushed a kiss over War’s lips.
They’d been riding for an hour before Death chose to answer War’s question.
Yes, I do like what I do. I carry no guilt for what I did in my mortal life, which makes me different from all of you.
Death had a point and War couldn’t argue with that. He still felt guilty for the battle, but he was starting to see that the whole situation hadn’t been entirely his fault. Maybe it would help him deal with what he did in this life.
And maybe help Russell with his problems. He’s still wrestling with his own form of guilt.
I know and I am working on it.
He didn’t get a response from Death, so War figured that the Horseman had chosen to end the conversation. War didn’t mind. He wanted to enjoy the sound of the wind blowing through the grass and listen to Russell breathing next to him.
Chapter Eleven
Russell fumbled with the blankets covering him. When he crawled out from under them, he scurried a few feet away, and wrapped his arms around his knees. He rested his forehead on his knees, trying to calm his breathing. Sweat beaded on his chest and back, making him clammy and chilled.
Rustling behind him informed him War was awake. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands. He wished his nightmare hadn’t been bad enough to cause War to wake up. A warm presence settled right behind him and War’s hand landed on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
Russell shrugged slightly. He wasn’t falling into a flashback or anything like that, but he wasn’t completely in the here and now.
“You don’t need any of your medicine, do you?”
Shaking his head, he took a deep breath. “No. Just a nightmare.”
War hummed before encircling Russell’s waist and tugging him back against War’s chest. He stretched his legs out on either side of Russell, surrounding him with warmth and caring.
“Was it about the day Jimmy and William were killed?” War murmured in his ear, voice low and non-judgemental.