SOLAHN
That night Austin wound his way through the quiet, darkened halls of the sleeping quarters. Allman was gone. Rendan was gone. Mehta was gone and no one knew where. There was, as far as he could see, no reason for them to be here. Erek had no purpose here unless he fought, and Austin did not want him to fight. He had thought of Erek for over ten years and he pressed open his door and entered his room. He hoped he wasn’t rejected. He had rejected Erek, and there had been justice in this. Still, he had rejected Erek.
Austin undressed quickly and called his name.
Erek sat up to look at Austin standing before him.
“Erek—” Austin began, but Erek only made space for him in the bed, lifting the sheet and in one smooth movement, removing his trunks so they were naked together.
Erek pulled Austin to him. Austin could feel Erek, taller, broader than him, longer, once again in his arms. Suddenly Erek looked up at him and kissed him on the mouth. He did it again, and it felt right to have Erek’s mouth on his, to press himself into Erek and Erek to press into him. They held on greedily to each other’s faces, and Austin ran his hands over the softness of Erek’s buzzed hair while Erek buried his face in the thickness of Austin’s. They looked at each other, blinking, and Erek bit his lower lip, looking grim, and then he pushed Austin gently down and lay on top of him kissing him.
Austin caught Erek’s hair in his hands and pulled his face into his chest, wrapping his thighs around him while Erek brought him to the edge of the bed and pressed himself deep inside of Austin who gasped from the sudden entry. But quickly they fit themselves into a rhythm, now Austin pushed back with every press and quiet in the night, Erek fucked him.
So deep it defied hurt, Erek slammed into him.
“Almost,” Erek panted, thrusting again, “there.”
Austin ran his hands down Erek’s sides and pulled him in, greedy for his lover. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth squeezing himself to feel Erek hard inside of him.
“I’m gonna come…” Erek warned him.
Erek moaned as he came, a hot slick flood in Austin, now pulling out, in the night there was the gleam of semen dripping from the tip of his cock while Austing felt it dripping from him. They breathed hard together in the aftermath of what had occurred before Austin lowered his legs and Erek lowered his body, pressing his damp head into Austin’s arms.
Now the two of them lay side by side on the bed, exhausted.
Later, when they woke in the night, Erek moved off the bed and walked through his apartments, headed for the restroom. For a moment, Austin saw the length of his lovely body, his long torso, his almost flat stomach, his buzzed head.
Erek returned to bed where kissing, linking limbs, sighing, they ran their hands over each other’s bodies.
Erek turned over on his stomach and raised himself to Austin. He gripped the pillow and praised a secret God he’d never known while Austin fucked him. He turned around and raised his legs over Austin’s shoulders to his face, determined and lust stained in the night. When Austin came, his semen shot deep, trickling out of Erek the same time Erek felt his own orgasm and pointed his cock to Austin, showering his chest and stomach.
At least a minute later, Austin was still kneeling between Erek’s legs, still hard inside of him.
“We cannot stay here,” Erek said. “Eventually we, or at least I, would have to fight in a Solahnese war. There is no future in going to Zahem. Mereesa is young. We have no children. It will be a whole new world. For both of us.”
“What are you saying?” Austin began.
“That I’ve tasted happiness for the first time in years and when the world that made me unhappy, that I believed in, is coming to an end, I cannot go back to it. I have to discover what this is. What we are.
“We cannot go back to Westrial. You would only make Ashley’s life a misery and your father a disgrace.”
“We will go to Chyr,” Austin said, turning on his side and looking over Erek, running the back of his hand over the smooth rises of muscle on his chest and arms. “We will join my friends in their battle. We should have gone all along.”
“Yes,” Erek agreed. “We will go to Chyr.”
KINGSBORO
Francis Pembroke fairly ran into the great hall.
“Your Highness!” he cried. “Your Majesty!”
Smiling gently on Isobel who sat beside him, Cedd said, “He means you.”
He turned back to Francis and said, “Who cannot be smitten by the Queen?”
“Sir, you are right,” Francis said in the tone of one who was humoring more than wishing to make conversation, “but even now there is a delegation with the black banner and orange of sun of Sussail.”
When Isobel heard this, the Queen of Westrial rose with as much dignity as a heavily pregnant woman could, and lurched down the steps of the throne, Cedd coming behind her as she caught his hand.
“You are worried, Iso?”
Isobel looked at Cedd and she said, “This is a time when I do not believe that any news is good.”
They came to the great hall, and there were so many lifts and walks and passages that the riders from Sussail had enough time to refresh their horses and themselves before entering. The herald was Beregond of Gladden, and he bowed low to King Cedd, but kneeling, kissed Queen Isobel’s hand.
“Beregond, rise,” Isobel commanded.
“I come with word from your lady mother.” Beregond said, and Isobel nodded.
“King Rufus of Daumany is marching through the Short Country. Your father King Raoul, and your brother the Brince Bohemond along with his Grace the King of Armor are already gathering their forces, and though Rufus has said he is not aggressing, but merely traveling, he has taken Narbonne and marches for Toledo.”
“How would he dare?” Isobel demanded. A sensation of rage, which she realized was touched with fear, was rising from her stomach.
“He has made some type of allegiance,” King Cedd said.
“But with whom?” Isobel demanded. “Edmund’s head was sent in a bag to the court of Ambridge. The Two Hales are gone from him.”
“Solahn,” Francis said, simply, and Cedd nodded.
“He has made contract with Solahn, and if with Solahn then he hopes for Chyr. Now that Ermengild is dead, his wife is Queen.”
“The Chyrans would never let him have the throne!” Francis protested while Beregond, quiet, looked from one lord to another.
“You have other news,” Isobel surmised.
“Zahem is fallen. Phineas is mighty there.”
“He is just a priest,” Cedd said. “The chief priests of their weird religion.”
“He is a mage,” Isobel said, simply. “As powerful as any Royan mage, as powerful as Ohean, whom you have made your enemy.”
“My King,” Francis said while Cedd remained quiet and, down the hall Anthony was marching, sweeping back his cloak, “may I be permitted to speak?”
“Yes, Francis. Always.”
“Lord Beregond mentioned not only that Rufus was marching into Sussail, but that he was marching across it, across the Short Country on a war path.”
“And Bellamy of Solahn’s ships are coming with Phineas up the Bay of Havern. While we know they are going to Chyr, perhaps to start a war, we are on the other side of that bay.”
“Two armies,” Cedd said, “and both of them are marching to Westrial.”
The approaching summer was making itself felt and sometimes this was the only reason Anthony slept naked in Cedd’s bed. It was too warm to cling, and tonight Cedd was too disturbed to make love. He trembled and woke in a fright, and now Anthony heard him wretching and sat up in bed. He did not go to the wash room for him, but waited for his love, who was his king, to return. Anthony sat on the bed while Cedd returned, shaky legged and stood against one of the shelves nailed into the wall, his head hanging, dejected.
“I cannot do it again,” Cedd lamented. “How could our ancestors. They came here fighting. They were corsairs and warriors. All their songs were of war. My mother’s family was Hale. I am half Hale. But… I cannot do this.”
He turned to Anthony in despair. “Look at my people out there. My people, sleeping and loving and drinking and fucking and whatever. In peace. And I have to take them into another war? Like we fought with Rufus’s father. Stacks of bodies, dead boys on top of dead boys, men gone into madness, farms destroyed, children killed, women raped for… what?”
Cedd leaned againt the wall and buried his face in his hands, trembling.
Slowly the door opened, and this web of apartments within apartments, locked to others, was open to only Francis, Teryn and Isobel. The pregnant Queen entered and she said, “Lord, cease your weeping.”
“Isobel?”
“I may have a way where there will be no bloodshed, or as little bloodshed as possible on our side. But… you must trust me.”
“Isobel, I always trust you.”
The Queen nodded.
“I will use methods you do not like. Methods I am told you would have made laws against, Caedmon King, if you could.”
“You are a witch,” Cedd said.
“I am more than a witch.”
The King nodded.
“If I had learned to respect witches and more than witches, my brother would be here, my sister would be here. Ohean would be here and I would be in a very different position.”
He had been naked before her many times, and on a night like this, Anthony did not care about his nakedness either. Cedd stepped forward, lifting Isobel’s face, and kissing her.
“Do what you must,” he said. “You are my Queen.”
