by Xenia Melzer
When Casto saw the trickles of fresh blood from Sic’s beating that morning, the raw, badly healed wounds, and the uncontrollable shivers running down Sic’s back, he felt his stomach turn. He suddenly realized that he wasn’t angry at Sic but at himself, and that he had already forgiven Sic from the bottom of his heart.
He locked the tack room door so nobody could disturb them. “Sic!” Casto’s voice was soft. “What happened?”
Sic spun around, his eyes wide with fear. “Please, Master, it’s nothing. Please don’t hit me. I promise I’ll go back to work immediately. I promise!”
“Shh. It’s okay. Don’t be afraid.” As if he was calming a frightened horse, Casto approached slowly, with extended arms. “I only want to help you.”
Sic retreated until the basin pressed into his back. “It’s nothing, Master, really,” he affirmed with a shaking voice.
Casto lifted an eyebrow. “In my opinion, ‘nothing’ doesn’t look like this. You look terrible, and I’m not only talking about your physical wounds. What happened?”
Sic stared intently at his wet, bloodstained hands. “Nothing I don’t deserve. Nothing I didn’t choose for myself. You said it yourself, you don’t care about me, so don’t let it bother you.”
Casto’s heart constricted with guilt. Without thinking any further, he pulled Sic close and hugged him, trying not to hurt him again. “I was an idiot. Can we leave it at that? I wasn’t angry at you, Sic, but at myself, about the whole situation. Being sent to the mines forced me to face a truth I didn’t like much. Still don’t, to be honest. But that isn’t your fault. Even though it’s late, Sic, I accept your apology. I forgive you. It would be nice if we could become friends again.”
This unexpected kindness was too much for Sic. He collapsed.
Casto comforted him until he calmed down a bit.
Still sobbing, Sic looked up at him. “You’re very generous, Master. I thank you.”
Casto’s eyes were tearing up as well. Sic’s chaste gratitude touched him more than he wanted to admit. For the first time in his life, Casto got an impression of what it really meant to call somebody a friend. To his surprise, the feeling was as intense and overwhelming as the love he felt for Renaldo. “As far as I know, my name is Casto. Friends do call each other by their names, don’t they? And now, tell me what has happened.”
Sic’s gaze darkened. The memory of how he had been manipulated assaulted him like a predator. “My master found a very effective way of making me pay for my sins.”
Casto’s eyes drilled into the bent nape, disfigured by iron, within his arms. It took him some moments until he realized what Sic was trying to tell him. Once he did, he screamed in rage. “He raped you?”
Sic stayed silent for a moment. “No, he didn’t. He just made it clear that his forgiveness, should he ever grant it to me, is bound to the way I serve his needs. I hate to admit it, but I’m desperate enough to do anything he asks.”
Dark, all-consuming fury bubbled up in Casto’s chest. “Don’t worry, Sic. I’m going to talk to Noran. This has gone too far. There are rules here in the Valley, and he, too, has to follow them.”
Sic shook his head in panic. “Please, don’t do that, Casto. It’ll only make him angrier. Besides, it’s not like he’s actually breaking any rules. He hasn’t forced me.”
“Nobody deserves something like that. Nobody.”
“You may be right, but I’m a traitor.” Sic’s fingertips brushed over the iron around his neck. “The laws of the Valley no longer protect me. If my master wishes, he can even leave me to entertain everybody in the Pack. I have to be grateful when it’s only him using me and that he’s not actually hurting me.”
Casto stroked Sic’s shoulders. His anger had slightly dissipated at Sic’s words and he was able to assess the situation with a clear head. “I’m afraid you’re right. There isn’t too much I can do for you.”
Casto closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they shone so brightly, Sic had to avert his gaze. “First, we’re going to clean you up properly. I’ll just leave for a bit to get you some fresh clothes, okay? You stay here and wait for me.”
Without waiting for an answer, Casto got up and hurried away.
Only a short time later, he was back with a bundle of clothes, a jug of tea, and a bag full of bread, bacon, and cheese. He carefully closed the door of the tack room again, took the sponge from where it had fallen to the ground, and started to wash him carefully. At first, Sic wanted to struggle, but then he gave in to Casto’s will. It had been too long since anybody had treated him kindly, not to mention touched him without beating him. He enjoyed being pampered by somebody who saw more in him than just his ability to work.
After Casto had cleaned all Sic’s wounds, he wanted to use a healing salve on him, but Sic shook his head. “It’s better if you don’t do that. I don’t think my master would appreciate it.”
Casto’s eyes darkened in anger. “Leave that to me. I’m going to inform Noran that your wounds have to be treated because otherwise you’re useless as a worker.”
With determined movements Casto took care of him. When he was finally done, he tossed Sic the bag with the food and a jug of water. “Enjoy your meal.” Then Casto’s expression darkened. “I’m going to talk to your master now.”
Sic eyed the delicious meal warily. He should refuse it because it was Noran’s will that he should go hungry. But he was so starved and the food looked so delicious, he couldn’t resist. Hungrily he started to eat while Casto got ready to battle it out with Noran.
THE MASTER smith was in his private rooms. He looked relaxed, sitting in a comfortable chair, his feet resting on a bench and a glass of wine in his hand.
But his looks were deceiving. Noran was nervous. What he had done to Sic violated all the rules in the Valley, not to mention his own set of morals, and even though it was his right, a last streak of common sense was protesting loudly against the perversion of the Holy Mothers’ gift. That was why he was almost relieved when Casto approached him and interrupted his inner dispute. “Casto, what a pleasant surprise!” Noran made his tone cheerful, almost shrill. Casto wasn’t paying him a courtesy call. “How can I help you?”
Casto appraised him coldly. “I’ve come to tell you that today I was busy treating Sic for almost two hours. He was bleeding from fresh wounds and some of the old ones had opened up, as you surely know. I took the freedom to treat him with salve, and I’d be very obliged if, from now on, you’d send him over to me in a better condition. It takes time to pamper him, and he’s not really useful as a worker when he’s bleeding all over the place.”
Noran’s eyes lit up. He wasn’t sure what Casto was up to and cursed the fact that his god’s lover was so hard to read. “Don’t tell me the little rat voiced a complaint?”
Casto shook his head. “On the contrary. You might be pleased to hear that he even asked me to not look after him because you don’t want it. I had to explain to him how in the afternoons he’s officially, and according to your will, my possession, and I take care of the things I own. That way they are of use for a long time.”
Casto had spoken very calmly. An uninvolved bystander could have mistaken it for a polite conversation between two men who didn’t know each other well. But Noran had known Casto long enough to interpret the steely undertone in his voice and the ominous darkening of his bright eyes as a clear warning that he had to slow his pace down if he didn’t want things to escalate. Casto went on almost absentmindedly.
“Of course I respect your right to punish your possession as you deem fit, but I want you to keep in mind that I cannot make any use of him when he’s too badly hurt—nor can you.”
“So, what do you suggest?” Noran’s voice was sly, asking himself whether Casto knew about the emotional blackmailing and what he was thinking about it.
With narrowed eyes that betrayed no emotions, Casto gazed at him. “I’d say it would be good to stop the beating until the wounds have healed. I
f you feel like it, you can beat him thrice a day or give him more blows afterward, but at the moment it’s unproductive when you break open the wounds time and again.”
“And who’s going to look after him? I don’t feel the slightest inclination to play healer to a filthy traitor.”
“And I would never ask it of you. I’m going to do it myself, since I’m the one who’ll profit most once he’s better. Perhaps I can use him for more than just cleaning the leather, then.”
Noran tried to read Casto’s words and expression, but his face was an impenetrable, beautiful mask that reminded Noran in an unsettling way of Renaldo. Those two were alike.
He dipped his head slightly. There was no use probing further today. It was better to wait and see what would happen. He would react then. “I agree with you, Casto. It’s unwise to wantonly damage the slave’s ability. It was my mistake not to think about it. I’ll stop the beatings until the skin has healed enough not to be torn by the strap anymore.”
Graciously, Casto bowed to him. “I thank you, Lord Noran. Your comprehension is only outdone by your talent. I do wish you a nice day.”
Casto left the smithy, followed by the musing gaze of the master smith.
Of course Casto’s request had been prudent. Noran had been thinking about the matter as well, if only briefly, since the traitor didn’t deserve such consideration. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that Casto had managed once again to outmaneuver him. Unfortunately he didn’t have proof, just an evanescent suspicion, which probably wasn’t worth investigating.
Sic had escaped his punishment for the next few weeks, but that didn’t mean Noran couldn’t hurt him then, even more cruelly. When he thought about the things he still had planned for his slave, he felt a shiver of anticipation running down his back that drowned the nagging voice of his conscience.
WHEN CASTO returned to his master’s chambers that evening, he was still angry and in turmoil.
Confronting Noran had helped him to let off some steam, but whenever he thought of Sic, he saw the barbaric wounds the young man had had to endure. It simply wasn’t right how the master smith punished his slave so mercilessly, but Casto’s hands were almost completely tied. He had barely enough scope to get his friend some slightly more bearable conditions, and he wasn’t clinging to any illusions about what Noran was probably making Sic do right then.
Exasperated, Casto entered the chambers. He was as jumpy as a young horse during its first ride.
Renaldo didn’t seem to notice. With an alluring smile he got up from the lounge he had been resting in and extended his hand to Casto.
“My own! I’ve missed you today. Come and let me show you how much.”
Casto sidestepped him, his face forbidding, his tone grumpy. “I don’t want to today. I’m too tired.”
He moved to pass Renaldo and head for the bath, but Renaldo retained him. The pressure of his fingers on Casto’s arm had only slightly more emphasis than necessary.
“What’s the matter? Since you returned to the Valley, you haven’t told me no so blatantly even once.”
“Then it’s a first today,” Casto spat, angry that Renaldo was holding him so tightly. He wasn’t furious enough to try wrenching himself free in earnest yet, but it wouldn’t take a lot more until he raised his hand against his god.
Said god was now inhaling deeply and had closed his eyes for a moment. When he talked again, his voice was a lot gentler than before, but the steely undertone was a clear warning. “I’m asking you again, Casto, what has happened? It’s been some time since I last saw you so irritated.”
Renaldo’s attempts at soothing him only served to make Casto angrier. “It’s nothing that concerns you. And I doubt you’d understand. Just leave me alone.”
Renaldo’s eyes lit up in fury. Not the most patient person to begin with, his temper was easily stoked by Casto’s dismissive tone. “Watch your mouth, human. You may not be a slave anymore, but I’m still your lord and master. Even though you share my bed and will be my husband soon, I still expect you to show me respect. Apologize this minute. Then we may be able to turn this situation around.”
While talking, he tightened his grip on Casto’s arms and pressed him against the wall, trying to subjugate him with his physical presence as well as with words.
Casto’s gaze was so dark, his eyes seemed almost black. He knew exactly what Renaldo was trying to do, and he hated it from the bottom of his heart. “All of you be damned!” he hissed and kicked Renaldo’s left knee with all his might. An ugly sound was heard; Casto had aimed very well.
The sudden impact of pain loosened Renaldo’s grip enough to give Casto a chance to escape. In two quick strides Casto was at the door; he pried it open and was gone.
Renaldo got up, cursing vividly. A pop sounded again when his dislocated kneecap returned to its original position. For a moment, Renaldo seriously contemplated following his wayward lover and bringing him to justice, but he dropped the plan because chances were he would kill the young idiot.
Instead he hit the wall of his chambers with all his might and listened to the furious crackling of the logs in the fire, which flared like some monster from the realms of stories when he fed it with his fury.
At the same time, Casto ran to Lys with tears of anger in his eyes.
The stallion greeted him with an expectant snort, and the dark, intelligent eyes regarded him intensely.
Casto buried his face in his brother’s soft hair and told him what had happened this time. “We had a fight, Lys, a bad one. It’s not my fault that I wasn’t in the mood for sex today. But after I’d seen what Noran has done to Sic, I couldn’t imagine doing it. And if I’d told him why I wasn’t in the mood, he’d have gotten angry as well, and we’d have fought about that. What should I do? Will this relationship ever be normal?”
Lys snorted imperatively.
“I know. But I never thought it could be so difficult to be obedient all the time.”
Another snort, accompanied by a stamping of hooves.
“You’re right. But angry as he is right now, he’s probably going to beat me black-and-blue. Can’t I stay the night with you?”
Soft nostrils nudged Casto out of the stall. One last time Casto started to say something, but Lys pointedly showed him his back.
Casto’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I thought you hated Renaldo? Very well, I’ll go and apologize. But I don’t want to hear any complaints when I’m not able to ride you for the next week.”
Apparently bored, the stallion started chewing his hay. Lys had known Casto for so long and so intimately that he knew how his recalcitrant brother could stand in his own way. Sometimes Casto had to have happiness forced on him.
Casto returned to his master.
When he opened the door, Renaldo was pouring himself some wine. He didn’t face Casto but contemplated the red liquid swishing in the glass. “Have you come to raise your hand against me one more time, slave?” His voice was cold. He’d used slave on purpose to show Casto how enraged he was.
Casto inhaled deeply. He was still too agitated to feel truly sorry but didn’t want a full-scale fight either. So he swallowed his resentment and forced his voice to sound even. “No, my lord. I came to apologize. My behavior was stupid and irreverent. I’m sorry.”
The glass was put down with a click, and then Casto heard steps approaching. Strong hands seized him, and gray eyes bored into his own. For some time, neither of them spoke, each lost in the gaze of the other and their own thoughts. Both were pondering the same question: whether their love was strong enough to endure their difficult characters.
Abruptly, Renaldo let go of his lover. “I’m sorry too, Casto. You set me a clear boundary and I ignored it because I wanted to have things my way. That was wrong of me.”
Casto shook his head. Now that Renaldo was giving in, he could feel his anger dissipating. “You had every right to ask me. You’re my lover and master. I’ve promised to be open with you.”
Renaldo smiled weakly, glad that the mood was swinging toward reconciliation. “Let’s agree we both had our part in this, okay?”
Casto’s forehead wrinkled in thought before a smile appeared on the full lips. “I agree, Barbarian.”
Gently, Renaldo pressed a kiss on his mouth. “Then you should lie down. It was a long day. We can talk tomorrow.”
Blue eyes sparked in mischief. “You’re sending me to bed?”
“What else should I do? It’s late.”
Casto’s tongue darted nervously across his lips, something Renaldo couldn’t help but notice.
“We had a fight, Barbarian,” Casto murmured. “Don’t you think we should… make up?”
“You were very gruff before. I assumed you did not wish to be touched by me.”
Instead of an answer, Casto started to undress, caressing Renaldo randomly time and again. When Casto was naked, he fondled his pierced nipples, a challenging gaze trained on Renaldo. “I haven’t bathed yet. Do you want to watch?”
With a growl, his lord pulled him close. “I’ve got a better idea. I’m going to wash you, my own.”
Like a storm, Renaldo’s lust swept him away, burying everything else—the anger, the guilt, the fury—beneath it.
Panting, Casto allowed him to regain control and take him to the bath, where Renaldo washed and caressed him until Casto thought he would burn to cinders. Renaldo took him twice in the bathroom, once on their way to the bedroom, and then, when Casto was already close to exhaustion, one more time on the bed. Afterward the young man fell asleep in his god’s arms, too tired to ponder the day’s events further.
RENALDO WATCHED his lover’s relaxed face while he was sleeping.
It never ceased to amaze him how Casto could be so arrogant, stubborn, and belligerent sometimes and then so willing and obedient where the bed was concerned. It was as if there were two souls living in the prince’s chest, one sent to annoy Renaldo, the other to please him. He wondered whether it would ever change—and how he would like it if his proud lover submitted to him completely.