by Lynn Lorenz
“Down that path.” Peter swung down from his horse and went to a small break in the underbrush.
“That’s a path? The wagon will never fit.” Caelin shook his head.
Peter tied off his mare to the wagon and then dug around in the back. He pulled out a small saw blade and a scythe. “Here. Climb down. We have some work to do before we can reach the lodge.”
Caelin hopped down, and Peter gave him the scythe. “I’ll cut the branches and you mow the undergrowth, and we’ll clear the path in no time.”
“No time, eh? Why is it I think it might take longer than that?” Caelin looked toward the setting sun. “If we don’t hurry we’ll be cutting in the dark.”
“Then let’s get to it.” Peter raised the saw and attacked the first of the branches. Once he’d gone into the woods about the length of a man and the width of the wagon, Caelin followed, swinging the scythe from side to side, cutting down the tall grasses, weeds, and young saplings. As they moved forward, Caelin would halt and retrieve the horses and wagon and lead them deeper toward the lodge.
They worked hard, cutting and hacking away the woods until they were both drenched in sweat, covered in leaves and grass, and their muscles ached. But at last, Peter broke through and stepped into a glade.
“Marden Lodge.” Peter stepped aside so Caelin could see.
Caelin finished the last few feet, then lowered his scythe and stared at the little lodge.
“It’s small.”
“Aye, that it is.” Peter nodded, then returned his saw blade to the wagon and stowed it there.
“But large enough for four, I think.”
“It will be close quarters, but I’m positive we can make it work.” Peter grinned at him and slapped him on the shoulder.
“Is that a garden?” Caelin’s eyes lit up.
“Well, the beginnings of one. I’ve brought the seeds and plants to get a good start on it.”
Caelin thought it the finest lodge he’d ever seen, not that he’d seen that many, but this one looked well-tended.
Just as he opened his mouth to ask yet another question, the door to the lodge opened, and one of the largest men he’d ever seen stepped out, sword raised.
“Peter, is that you?” the man bellowed.
“Gareth!” Peter shouted and ran toward him.
The man swung his sword into his back scabbard and trotted out to meet Peter. They met halfway across the glen and embraced, clapping backs and laughing.
Truly happy to see each other, Caelin noted.
So, that was Gareth, the mercenary. A match to Peter in size and weight, and something told Caelin he’d be a man just as dominant as his Peter. A ripple of arousal coursed through his body at the realization that he’d soon be sharing himself with this man.
A movement at the door to the lodge broke Caelin’s gaze from the two men. A young man with the most beautiful long red hair hung in the doorway as if frightened. Then a huge smile of recognition burst on his pretty face, and he dashed toward Peter.
“Arvel!” Peter roared and flung open his arms. The man threw himself into Peter’s embrace.
“Hold, Arvel.” Gareth grabbed Arvel by the shoulder and pulled him back. “We are not alone.” His steely gaze fell on Caelin and fear shot through him.
Peter turned back toward Caelin. “Yes, I bring the third soldier to man the outpost. The duke has declared Marden Lodge as his outpost in the north, Gareth. The position we spoke of is yours if you’ll take it.”
Gareth bared his teeth and growled, pulling the younger man, Arvel, behind him as if to protect him. He drew his sword again, held it at the ready, and advanced. Caelin took a step back. His own sword lay on the bench of the wagon, and he was defenseless.
“Peter?” Caelin looked to his lover, his gaze dancing between both large men.
Peter jumped in front of Gareth and grabbed his wrist. “Hold. He is no enemy.”
“Have you lost your mind, Peter?” Gareth whispered. “You will have us all killed.”
“Nay, hold your temper and your sword. I know what I’m doing. Caelin is no danger to any of us.”
Peter turned back to Caelin. “Come here. There is no need to fear.”
Caelin nodded and came forward. “Hail, Gareth. I am Caelin Holdess. Peter has told me much of you.”
“Has he?” Gareth’s eyes narrowed, and his grip tightened on the sword.
Peter chuckled. “God, you’re such a bull of a man, Gareth. Take ease. Caelin is one of us.”
“What?” Gareth stared at Caelin.
Caelin exhaled, stepped toward Peter, and wrapped his arm around Peter’s waist, snugging him in closer. “What he means is I am his lover.” Caelin’s chin jutted up with the declaration, and Peter’s chest filled with pride at his boldness.
“Lover? Is this true, Peter? You never spoke of a lover.”
“It’s true. And Caelin and I met when I returned to Marden. The duke asked me to choose a man to be the third at the outpost, and I chose Caelin.” Peter hugged Caelin to him.
Arvel came around Gareth, frowning.
“Now, Arvel, will you give me that kiss?” Peter asked.
Arvel glanced at Caelin, his head tilted like a pretty little redbird.
Caelin laughed and pushed Peter toward him. “Go on, greet him.”
Arvel smiled and launched himself at Peter, who caught him and received a most lusty kiss. “I missed you, pet,” he said, once they’d broken their kiss.
“Here now. Arvel, this is Caelin.” Peter stepped back to let the two young men meet.
“Hail, Arvel. Peter has told me a little about you.” Caelin smiled and offered his hand.
∙•∙
Another man? Another Heart?
And one so very interesting. He’d never seen such scars on such a handsome face.
Arvel looked at his hand, then up into his face. He stepped close to Caelin and ran his hand over the scars on Caelin’s face as he frowned.
“My father gave them to me. To ensure no man would want me.”
That should have shocked Arvel, but he’d known of such hatred, such pain, far too many times to count. His heart opened to the young man nearly his own age.
And that Peter had brought him here? Could this be Peter’s Heart?
And Caelin thought himself undesirable? Arvel wouldn’t have any of that. He shook his head, leaned in, and placed a kiss on Caelin’s mouth. Caelin gasped, wrapped his arms around Arvel, and licked along the seam of Arvel’s lips. He opened for Caelin, and their tongues danced as the older men watched.
Caelin pleased Peter and that pleased Arvel. This turn of events was a fine thing.
The lodge had a new Heart, one that would add to their family.
Gareth leaned toward Peter. “I think he’ll do well here.”
Peter laughed. “I thought so also. But mind me, he’s my pet as Arvel is yours. He sleeps in my bed.”
Gareth laughed. “Of course. I wouldn’t separate you. But you’re assuming our pets don’t decide to share one bed and put us in the other.”
The two men still kissed, hands roaming and exploring.
∙•∙
Peter smacked Caelin on the ass. “Come, pet. We’ve work to do before the sun sets.”
Caelin gave him a glare, as did Arvel, but he nodded. “After we unload the wagon, can we construct the bed?” He rubbed his ass. “I’m in dire need of a soft mattress.”
Arvel motioned to Caelin his sign for hungry and waited.
“Oh, I thought you were too silent.” Caelin looked at Gareth, who had tensed. So protective a keeper, Arvel’s Gareth. “Aye, Peter and I are both hungry.” He returned the motion, bringing his fingers to his mouth and nodding, showing everyone he understood that Arvel was mute and deaf and that he thought no less of the young man.
Arvel smiled, spun around, and trotted across the glade to the lodge.
“The meal will be prepared by the time we’re done. Come on, men. Let’s get this wagon unpacked and see what Peter h
as brought us.” Gareth walked over to the team of horses, took their leads, and led them toward the stable.
“The black horse is mine,” Caelin piped up. “The other is an extra. And there’s a new bed, and wood for the chicken coop, and chickens, and a rooster. He’s fine and black with white spots.”
Gareth turned to Peter and raised his eyebrow at Caelin. “Does he always talk so much?”
“Nay, he’s just excited. Normally, he’s very quiet and shy.”
“That’s good. I like my silence. Grown used to it, I suppose.”
Peter nodded. “I also.” He led his horse alongside Gareth as Caelin trailed behind them.
“My lord Gareth, I spent nearly a year with the brothers in the abbey. Have no fear—if it’s silence you want, you’ll get it. But can I ask a question?”
“Aye.” Gareth waved his hand.
“Does the silence drown out the noise of the battlefield that still rings in your ears?”
Gareth and Peter stopped as Gareth swung around to stare at Caelin.
“Come here, pet,” he ordered. Caelin obeyed.
Gareth wrapped a large hand around Caelin’s neck and pulled him to his chest. With his thumb he tilted Caelin’s head back and took his mouth in a soft kiss, then released him.
He gave Peter a strange look, as if searching for understanding. For Peter, a small part of the puzzle that was Gareth unlocked with that one question.
“Will you keep my secret, Caelin?”
“Aye, my lord, until the day I die.”
Gareth pulled on the leads and started forward.
“You chose well, Peter.”
“We chose each other.” Peter smiled.
Chapter Thirty-One
“That’s the last of it,” Gareth announced as he fell into the chair by the hearth.
Arvel had prepared their meal as he, Caelin, and Peter unloaded the wagon. Across the room, Peter and Caelin had just finished assembling the bed and argued over how tight the strings should be. Peter wanted them tighter for a firmer bed, and Caelin wanted a soft bed.
“Your ass will mend in a day or two, but my back will be in pain for months.” Peter gave each of the knobs another twist, then stood. Frowning, Caelin moved the mattress filled with fleece into position, and tossed a few quilts over it.
“Fine.” He strode off to the table and touched Arvel on the shoulder. In a few quick hand motions, he asked if he could help. Arvel nodded and gave him the chargers to set the table.
Peter sat in the chair next Gareth and sighed. “At least they get along well.”
“It’s not as if they were two women.” Gareth shuddered. “We’d hear no end of complaint and whining if so.”
“In the morn, I’ll set the staff by the road and raise the duke’s pennant so everyone knows we are here.”
“Trust me, if you rode through the village with that great wagon, they know. I’ll vow it’s the topic at the inn tonight.”
“Good. The duke wants his people to know they are protected.”
“Protected? With two men?” Gareth’s eyebrow shot upward as he snorted.
“Three. Do not forget Caelin.” Peter pointed to his lover. “All the outposts have only three men. We’re not meant to be the ones who stop the army, only the ones who give cry. Halfway to Marden, I left fresh horses at one of the farms. If we need to raise the alarm, we ride, bent for hell, to the farm, switch mounts and arrive at Marden within a day.”
Gareth nodded. “It’s a well-thought-out plan. Is it working?”
“So far, it’s kept Weathers on his own lands this last year.”
“And what of the mission you spoke of into Weathers’ territory?” Gareth lowered his voice and leaned closer.
“The duke wishes it so. Tomorrow, you give your oath to me as the duke’s man, and as soon as we judge it right, you ride into enemy lands as a spy for Marden. Are you still willing?”
Gareth stared into the fire and weighed his decision. He was the only man for the job, the only one with experience enough and with the knowledge of where he must go, but should he be caught, the method of death would not be pleasant or without pain.
“I’m ready.” He looked deep into Peter’s eyes and nodded. The furrow of Peter’s brow let him know that Peter knew what the duke asked of him.
Peter reached out, placed his hand over Gareth’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. “So be it, then.” They separated and sat back.
Gareth cleared his throat. “Now, just how much soldiering has your pet done? He looks a raw recruit to my old eyes.”
“He is. But he’s a second son and has been trained with sword and horse. And he can read and write and will handle all the correspondence for the outpost. With some more training and a little experience, he’d make a fine soldier.”
“Does he take orders well?” Gareth leaned closer and smiled.
“Indeed he does.” Peter smiled back and winked.
“And are you prepared to share him?” Gareth lowered his voice so the others couldn’t hear.
“I am. He holds my heart and I hold his.”
“Just as Arvel and myself. I am happy for you, Peter, to have found love.”
“Not as much as I. For a time, I thought it would never beat in my heart again.”
The two men looked at their lovers, who were sharing the work of the evening meal.
“Come, let’s eat. I hunger.” Gareth growled, slapped his thighs, and pushed from his seat.
“I also, however, I fear I may not last long this evening.”
Gareth slapped his friend on the back. “Have no fear. I can take over for you if needs be, sweetling.”
Peter laughed as he stood and followed. “After dinner, we must push the beds together.”
“Indeed we must.” Gareth winked at him.
»»•««
Only the sounds of spoon and knives scraping on the chargers, the men’s chewing of rabbit stew, and their swallowing of wine could be heard. When every morsel of food had been eaten and the chargers taken and cleaned, they took their leave of the table.
Peter and Gareth pushed the beds together, rearranged the quilts and pillows, and then Gareth and Arvel helped Caelin and Peter carry their trunks and place them against the wall.
“Now can we get in bed?” Caelin asked, arching his back like a cat.
Peter pulled him in close. “Aye, pet. Now we can get some sleep.” He massaged Caelin’s shoulders as the younger man writhed against him.
“Sleep?” Caelin frowned. “I said nothing of sleep. I said bed, my lord.” That wicked grin graced his face, and Peter laughed.
“You’ll be the death of me, Caelin.”
“Never.” Caelin swooped in and took Peter’s mouth with a hard kiss, then broke away. “Never.” He placed his hand over Peter’s heart, mimicking Arvel’s sign for lover. Caelin held out one finger as he did, earning a smile and a quick kiss from Peter.
“Undress, then, and get in. I’m not sure how this is going to work, but I’m willing to give it a try,” Gareth announced.
The younger men quickly divested themselves of their clothes as Peter and Gareth sat on opposite sides of the bed and watched.
“Perhaps tonight we keep it simple?” Peter suggested. He’d not energy enough for more than one round of bed sport tonight.
“That sounds best, at least until you’ve recovered, old man.” Gareth winked at him, and Peter tossed his pillow at him, scoring a hit on Gareth’s head. The pillow flew back at Peter, who caught it before it struck.
Now they undressed as their younger lovers crawled into the beds and scooted into the center, leaving room for their mates. Once naked, the two slipped into the bed, and each pulled his lover to him.
Peter nuzzled Caelin’s face as he stroked his hand down that well-formed body and found the staff that waited, ready and proud, for his touch. Caelin gasped and arched into his hand, pushing his rod through the tight circle of Peter’s grip.
Soft, smooth skin over a hardness
that made Peter’s mouth water for a taste. He pushed Caelin onto his back and lowered his head to take his lover’s rod in his mouth.
Just one or two quick licks and he opened to take in the fat head. He sucked it, drawing the clear fluid it leaked into his mouth. “Delicious,” he murmured.
Caelin reached up to him and wove his fingers into Peter’s hair, then pulled him forward into a kiss. “Fuck me,” he whispered, and Peter’s cock filled.
Peter got on his knees as Caelin spread his legs. “Where’s that oil?” he asked Gareth.
“Here, take it. I’m done with it. Tomorrow go to the village and buy your own.” He growled, tossed it to Peter, then as Peter watched, Gareth rubbed his cock with the oil, positioned his rod, and pushed into Arvel.
Peter’s sac grew heavy with seed as his need to empty grew. With haste, he oiled himself, painted Caelin’s entry with more oil, and plunged home.
Caelin cried out, clawing Peter’s shoulders and his legs wrapping around Peter’s waist as he took him inside.
God, Peter wanted to spill right now, but he held back.
∙•∙
Beside him, Gareth stroked in and out of Arvel, their hands locked together on the bed, his powerful thighs making his thrusts hard and deep.
Gareth glanced over at Peter. Tired, eh? He didn’t look exhausted, the way he rode his lover. It made him hard to watch Peter and Caelin. How sweet it would be to learn a new lover, what made him moan. And with Caelin, like Peter, Gareth would hear those sweet moans.
Arvel watched him and smiled. His pet knew of his desire for him and for the others, and he enjoyed it also.
Arvel pulled loose his hand and reached out to stroke Caelin’s shoulder. Caelin turned to him, smiled, and reached out also. They turned toward each other to embrace as Gareth and Peter watched.
The young men found each other, grew closer, their hands petting and traveling over their chests, arms, and bellies.
Arvel took Caelin’s cock in hand, and Caelin returned the favor.
Peter’s gaze locked onto his lover as Arvel pleasured him while Peter fucked him. Caelin, for his part, seemed even more excited to be touched by two men, and Arvel rode along with him in the pleasure, proof if it on his expressive face.