Текст книги "Bound to the battle god"
Автор книги: Ruby Dixon
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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 40 страниц)
44
The men all swear fealty to Aron, and one by one, we learn a little about them. There's Markos from Aventine, who comes from a sailing family. Solat, who hails from Katharn and has the most beautiful, fine black curls. Kerren, who has darker skin and comes from Mephis, and Vitar, who is a farmer's son and also comes from Katharn. They've been with the Aron of Lies for about two weeks now, and served him faithfully. They have three woale with them and took turns walking as Aron rode with the concubine and the wizard. The men ask to have an evening to bury their fallen dead, and while Aron doesn't look as if he wants to do so, he turns to me and I nod. I want an evening off, too.
So I sit by the fire and clean my face and arms of mud while the men dig in the forest and Aron hovers, watching them. The concubine sits with me, and I learn her name, too—Yulenna. When I ask where she's from, she just smiles and shrugs. "My last master was in Rastana. A slave claims no home."
"You don't have to be a slave any longer," I tell her. I was a slave and I hated it. "I'm sure Aron will free you. Heck, you're free now."
She frowns, as if this makes her unhappy. "It is a great honor to serve one of the Aspects. Being his slave will be one of my life's true joys."
"Aron doesn't need slaves."
"You see to his pleasure, then?"
Well this conversation just escalated to eleven. "That's a bit personal and I don't have to tell you."
Yulenna just smiles sweetly and plays with her long black hair. "I can help with that if you're tired of servicing him. I'm good in bed and I know what Aron likes."
"You mean you knew what the Aron of Lies liked. This is a different Aron."
"They are all Aspects of the same god," Yulenna points out, and for a shining moment, I want to punch her in her pretty mouth, even though I know she's right.
"It's not the same, and you won't touch him unless he asks for it. No volunteering, either."
"But, my lady, I just want to please him." She clasps her hands in front of her chest, eyes beseeching. "I'm a bed slave. How do I earn my keep if I don't please him?"
"You could try cooking?" I gesture at the camp fire. "Or like I said, we could set you free. We can give you money and you can go to the nearest town and start over."
Her eyes fill with tears. "If I go to Katharn with no papers and no male guardian, I will be captured by the first slaver who sees me and sold on the cheap. Please, do not do this. I have served my Lord of Storms faithfully." She drops to her knees and prostrates herself, weeping.
Well, shit. "Yulenna, get up. Please." I hate that her words make sense. I hate that when she sits up, she still looks beautiful and perfect, her eyes shining with big tears that just make her prettier. I know that she's not wrong—she would be enslaved again. That's what happened to me back in Aventine. I can't condemn her to a crappy fate just because I'm feeling jealous and territorial. "I'll ask Aron if he wants a bed slave."
The words stick in my throat.
She beams at me, her face full of relief. “I can service both of you if needed. Just tell me what is required and I’ll do it.”
“Er, no, I’m good, thanks.” I hastily move away from her before she can start offering to demonstrate. I’ve gone from hating Yulenna to feeling sorry for her in a matter of moments. I remember how terrifying it was to be enslaved, how objectified I felt. How can I dislike someone else for just trying to survive in this world in the only way she knows how? I move away from the fire, drawing my cloak closer, and follow the sound of digging into the woods.
Before I can take more than a few steps into the trees, Aron is there before me, glowering. “Where are you going?”
“Oh. I was coming to talk to you.”
He scowls at me. “I told you not to stay by the fire.”
It takes a moment for me to process that. “Right. Well, I was just coming straight for you—”
“Faith.” Aron takes me by the arm, sending tingles up and down my body. If anything, the electric shocks seem to be stronger than before. Maybe they’re doubling up because he’s two Arons now. “I do not want you by the fire where I can watch over you. I trust these men. They have proven themselves.”
Ah. He’s worried we might still be betrayed. Of course he is. Haven’t we been betrayed by everyone in this land so far? “I’m sorry, Aron. I just needed to talk to you. I’ll stay by the fire…but do you want a bed slave?” I rush the words out before he can scowl at me again.
Aron cocks his head, amusement on his handsome, arrogant face. “You are volunteering?”
“What? No!” I can feel a hot blush on my face. “You wish!”
“Do I?”
I…can’t tell if that’s a lie or not. He’s still casting that slow smile in my direction, the one that makes my belly flutter, and I don’t know what to think. “Yulenna,” I manage to say. “She wants to stay on as your bed slave.”
“And what do you think?”
Okay, now his questions are getting on my nerves. “I think you’re in charge of your own damn dick. You tell me.”
He studies me for a long moment. “Because I have defeated Lies…it means that I am him. The thought of having her in my bed is appealing.”
I open my mouth to snap at him for being a pig—when I realize that I’m supposed to read the opposite from his words. Right. It’s still taking me some getting used to. I can’t help but preen a little. “So you don’t want her in your bed? She’s going to be disappointed.”
“And I care?” He arches one arrogant eyebrow at me.
“Hey, you know what? That’s kind of neat—if you ask a rhetorical question, we can get around the lies thing.” I give him a little poke in the chest with my finger. “Remember that, because talking to you now is confusing.”
“Is it?” His grin is practically flirty, and my pulse hammers in my throat. “Again, should I care if you’re confused since you are here to serve me?”
Good ol’ Arrogance, rearing his head again. I give his chest a little pat. “I’m going to ignore that. So what’s the plan now?”
Aron studies my face, and then glances down at the hand I have on his chest. I leave it there, just to be obstinate, and I get the distinct impression that he expected that and it amuses him. He puts his hand over mine a moment later, and then I’m trapped against him, little shockwaves of lightning skittering through my skin. “Nothing has changed, has it?”
“Everything has changed,” I whisper. “You’re different now.”
“I am,” he tells me.
Oh sure, he can pretend nothing is different, but I’m having to interpret every word he says now. “I’m just glad you won,” I admit. “I don’t like to think of ending up like the wizard.” I shudder, still picturing him as the last time I saw him, his slender, robed body tossed atop the pile of fallen soldiers. “Promise me you’ll win against the next two, also.”
“I can promise nothing, Faith,” he says in a low voice, and his thumb brushes over my trapped hand. “You think I would let harm come to you?”
I smile faintly at him. “I have to admit this puts a kink in our plans. Soldiers and a bed slave?” When he snorts, I shake my head. “I don’t feel safer. You’d think with extra people around, it would feel like we’re less vulnerable. And yet…” Now I’ve seen what happens when a god’s anchor is killed. I watched Liar Aron fade out before my eyes.
Fade into nothing.
I’m not sure which image disturbs me more—that the wizard was slain to get rid of Liar Aron, or that Liar Aron could just vanish into nothing. I think of that happening to my Aron and impulsively, I move forward and give him a hug, pressing my cheek to his leather-armor-covered chest.
He strokes my hair, and for a change, Aron is quiet. There are no lies coming from his mouth, no arrogant bullshit. He just smooths my hair and holds me close, and I tremble against him, full of worry.
“You think I would let anything happen to you, my Faith?” he murmurs again, and I feel warm and relaxed at those words.
“I just worry I won’t be enough to help you,” I whisper.
“You aren’t.” And he strokes my hair again.
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45
We camp in Liar Aron’s camp that night, since it’s already set up and the hour’s late. The woales are tethered to a nearby tree and fed, and Yulenna chit-chats non-stop by the fire, as if determined to talk out her distress over the changing situation. I let her talk, murmuring agreements when she needs a response, but mostly I’m not listening. I’m tired and distracted.
This could have ended badly. I could have died. I can still feel Bad Aron’s hand on my neck as he gazed down at me. I nearly fucked it up for both of us, and I can’t stop thinking about how Bad Aron just…faded away.
And now my Aron is both of them.
I don’t know what to make of that. I know that he’s supposed to be here in the mortal realm to purge all the bad stuff from his system, so why is he now unable to speak the truth? What happens to him once all four are put back together like the fantasy version of Voltron? Does my Aron disappear forever, lost inside the god himself? That makes me sad.
Another thought occurs to me—what happens when we find the Hedonism Aron? I eye Yulenna as she warms her hands by the fire. I hate that my thoughts went there. I hate that I keep seeing Aron flipping her skirt up and the noises she made as he pounded into her. It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t my Aron, because it’s my Aron now, and I might murder him in his sleep if he touches her.
Or…just cry a lot. One or the other.
Eventually, the soldiers come back from burying their comrades, their expressions sober. They keep their distance from me, silent as they wash up and head to their tents to sleep. Aron points me to the big tent, where old Aron slept, and I can’t fight my yawns back any longer. I head inside, and I feel a stab of relief when Aron follows me in. He’s still going to sleep with me.
Yulenna follows us, too. Her expression is timid when she sees my surprise. “I slept at my Lord of Storms’s feet while he relaxed, in case he should need me through the long night. Should I not?”
I look at Aron.
“This is not Faith’s tent now,” he declares. “She does not make the rules here.” And he puts a big hand on my shoulder.
I bite my lip, wondering how much to push, and then decide that fuck it, I’m pushing. “Aron won’t need your services anymore. You can sleep in the wizard’s tent.”
With an uncertain look, Yulenna nods and sees herself out.
The tent's definitely better living than Aron and I have experienced so far…well, except for maybe Tadekha's Citadel. Lush tapestries hang on the walls, and thick blankets are tossed atop a plush pad of a mattress. There's a freaking mattress out here in the woods, and I practically squeal at the sight of it. It's atop a woven reed mat to keep the dirt off it, but there's no mistaking the thickness of it, and I kneel beside it to touch, just because I'm so shocked. A real mattress. With pillows, even. They're pretty, decorative pillows for the most part, but still pillows. Nearby, coals rest in a hammered brazier in the center of the room and there's a scent like incense. Off to one side is a flat-topped trunk with a cushioned seat for a lid. "Holy crap, he's living in style in here," I breathe, scarcely able to believe it. I pick up one pillow and am surprised to feel that the embroidered unicorns on the front are as soft as velvet.
Aron just grunts, and he sounds irritated. "All of this is necessary for travel."
"I don't care if it's necessary or not, it's awesome." I run a hand over my face and arms, feeling for any last flakes of mud, and then touch the bed again. "Can we use it? Even if it belongs to the bad guys?"
"It is not yours now," Aron tells me. " If we plan on making good time to the Spidae's tower, we are not leaving all of this behind."
His emphasis tells me the truth of the matter, and I sigh. All this bedding was too good to be true after all. I know he's right. But tonight, these luxury accommodations are mine. "Is it safe to sleep, do you think?" I ask him, lowering my voice to a bare whisper. "Or should we stay on alert?"
"What is there to guard against?" he whispers back, a mocking edge in his tone. "Do they not serve Aron of the Cleaver? Am I not the only one here?"
"Point taken," I agree, and give him a little pinch just because he's back to being his normal ass self. "If it's safe, then I'm undressing and sleeping now."
"You should not," he agrees, putting a big hand on my shoulder. "We will not be rising early in the morning. You do not need your sleep."
I pull off one boot with a nodded yawn, then the other. All the adrenaline is leaving my body and I feel like a sleepy mess. I haul my dirty tunic off my head before I realize I'm almost naked in front of Aron. Oh well, it's not like I don't have goods he hasn't seen before. I smack my lips and adjust the leather band I'm wearing around my tits so they don't bounce, and then crawl into bed in nothing but leggings and a bra-band. "Tonight, I get to sleep in luxury at least. Come here, my pretty," I tell a pillow, and tuck it under my face. Oh man, this is heaven. "I'm going to be sad to leave you all behind tomorrow. Shhh, don't cry." I stroke a pillow. "I will remember you in my dreams."
Aron snorts.
"Oh, what's that?" I tell the pillow, still pretending to have a conversation. "Aron's a dick? I know, right? I'm not sure why he's so against you either, considering this is his tent. Well, not his tent, but Bad Aron's tent. It's okay, though." I pet the pillow one more time and fight a yawn. "If you love something, set it free and all that. You'll be free in the morning, pillow. Just right after I'm done with you."
I tuck the blankets under my chin and a moment later, Aron stabs me in the side with a finger.
"Ow. What?" I roll over and look at him. He's squatting next to the bed, one arm resting casually on his knee.
Aron just smirks at me. "You think this is my tent? Why would I have a bed? I do not sleep, remember?"
My tired brain processes that for a moment, and then I remember that he doesn't lie when he's asking questions. Then, I sit upright, shocked. Shit. He's right. I look around the tent and notice the feminine touches I didn't see before. A shawl draped over the seat. Fringe on the pillows. Freaking embroidery. Dudes don't care about that shit. I bet if I open the pretty trunk, the clothes in there will be dresses just like the filmy one Yulenna's wearing. "This is her tent, isn't it?"
"You think I would cuddle with the wizard?" Aron asks mockingly.
I give him a wry look. "Good point. I didn't realize this was hers, though." I touch the unicorn pillow thoughtfully. "Should we bring her back in here?"
"Yes," Aron says flatly.
"Okay, okay, don't get touchy. I'm trying to be polite."
"Why should you be polite to the conquered?" he asks, and reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair off my shoulder. I get goosebumps at that small touch, and not just because of the shockwaves.
"Right," I say, distracted. I'm trying to think about Yulenna, but Aron's nearness is kind of pulling me in a million directions. Not that he's all that near, of course. I'm sitting up in bed and he's next to me but not standing. We're still close enough for…well, a lot of things. My brain reminds me of Aron flipping up Yulenna's skirt, and then I'm back to reality, though. I know the nice thing to do would be to invite her back in here, but…I'm still seeing the vision of his dick pushing into her whenever I close my eyes.
She can sleep in the wizard's tent tonight.
I lie down again, gazing up at Aron. "What do we do with her? I suggested freeing her and you'd think I was talking about execution."
He grunts. "Give her to the soldiers?"
I blanch. "Aron, no. She's a person. She just makes poor choices. Or maybe she didn't have choices. Either way, she doesn't have to service anyone if she doesn't want to. Let her figure out that she doesn't have to earn a living on her back and maybe she'll choose a different way."
Aron just arches an eyebrow at me, clearly disagreeing.
Sheesh. I reach out to swat at him. "Be nice. I didn't want to be a slave handed off to men. Why would I wish that on someone else?" Even if she thinks she should be servicing Aron right about now?
"And the soldiers? Any plans for them?" Aron murmurs, his voice taking on a more intimate tone. "Assuming they will not prove themselves, that is."
Ugh. I'm not sure I like the idea of riding around with a posse. It's very different from how Aron and I have been traveling so far, and it feels very…conspicuous. It might be safer, but I just don't know. I feel like everything's going to change. Then again, everything already has. Aron can't speak without spouting lies, and when I close my eyes, I can't stop seeing Bad Aron bent over Yulenna. Bad Aron grabbing Yulenna’s hips. Yulenna squealing as he drives into her. "We'll see," I tell him. "We're stuck with them for now, I guess. If we can't get along, we can always dump them at the closest city if they slow us down."
"Novoro," he agrees, and then reaches down to pull the blankets up to my chin again. "You must not sleep, Faith. I won't watch over you."
I smile up at him. "You won't, huh?" I tease, unable to resist, and my heart flutters just a little when his mouth curves in a hint of a smile. If nothing else, I like that I can make him smile. Lord knows we have little enough to smile about lately, what with being hunted down and chased out of every place we stop. Maybe we're safer with a posse after all…provided they don't betray us.
The thought makes my soul ache. Is there no one Aron can trust to not screw him over but me? Poor Aron. How are the gods supposed to learn anything on this little test the High Father sent them on? They're too busy being attacked by the power hungry.
Unless the only thing they're supposed to learn is humility. Then, I'd say this is working fantastic.
But it makes me worry for Aron all the more. I lie back down and turn on my side, but when I close my eyes, this time, I don't see Aron and Yulenna humping. I see the other Aron, his hand on my throat, close enough to kiss…and just fading away into nothing.
There's a one in four chance—now one in three—that my Aron's going to have the same fate. The thought makes me sick. I reach over and grab Aron's hand, pulling him forward. "Lie down in bed with me," I tell him. "I know you won't sleep, but I'll feel safer with you close."
For a moment, I expect biting sarcasm or even a flurry of lies. Instead, Aron just lies down next to me, sliding under the blankets. I don't mind that he's got his boots on or that he's fully dressed, because he puts his arm around my waist and tucks me close against him, and that familiar electric shock jolts through me and then settles away. I breathe in his scent and feel his warmth, and some of the worry relaxes.
But only some. I put my hand over his at my waist, holding him closer. "Promise me everything will be all right," I whisper. "That we've got this handled."
"I promise," Aron murmurs.
Yeah, that was kind of what I figured.
The next morning, there’s a thick, honey-laced porridge simmering over the fire, and I watch the others eat, stomach rumbling, until I’m sure that it’s not poisoned and this isn’t a trap. Then, I help myself to a bowl. And then another. And a third, because their supplies are far better than the ones we have.
The soldiers watch me scarf down the food quietly, and when I make myself a fourth bowl, the one called Markos has a look of disbelief on his face. “You can eat all that?” He glances at Aron, unsure, but when he’s not struck by lightning for talking to me, he turns back to me again. “Where does it go?”
I decide I like Markos. I shake my spoon at him. “You sweet talker, you. And dude, I’m an anchor. We’re eating for two.” With my spoon, I wave it at Aron, who stands nearby, watching us eat with a hint of impatience. “I have to fuel up.”
“You eat more than any soldier I have ever seen,” Vitar whispers into his bowl as he eats. “We will not have enough supplies if this keeps up.”
I just keep eating. “Oh please,” I say between bites. “You act like this is shocking. Didn’t the wizard eat a lot?”
“Yes, but he was a wizard.”
“Well, I’m a girl. I’m allowed to eat.” And I take another heaping mouthful just to prove that I can.
Vitar looks uneasy, but Markos grins and takes a bite almost as big as mine, as if to prove that he can. Big goof. We eat in companionable silence, and a few moments later Yulenna comes out of her tent, wearing leggings and boots for a day of travel. Her hair is pulled back into a fashionable knot and she looks less like a slave and more like a fine lady about to go on a journey. I glance down at my belted tunic—one of Omos’s old ones—and remember that I didn’t brush my hair this morning after I rolled out of bed.
Markos prepares a bowl of porridge for Yulenna and offers her a spoon, and she smiles sweetly at him and sits down next to me. “So much food,” she murmurs, and then takes a dainty bite.
I make a face into my bowl, and I can hear Vitar muffle a laugh.
Breakfast is eventually over, though, and the tents are packed up, the woales loaded with gear we’ve opted to take. There’s a small mountain of it left in the bushes, and I look mournfully at the bedding I slept in last night. Goodbye, mattress. Goodbye, pillows. Goodbye, delicious night’s sleep. Even though I understand it—we need speed if we want to stay ahead of anyone else that might be following us—I’m still a little bummed at the thought of sleeping on woale-back again.
I’m never going to complain about taking the bus again when I get home, I decide. Never, ever again. Woale-back is ten times worse and twenty times slower.
When the camp is nothing but a firepit, Kerren kicks dirt over it until it, too, is no more. Then, one by one, the men drop to their knees and put their fists over their hearts in Aron’s symbol.
“We are ready to serve, my lord,” Markos declares. “Tell us what you desire.”
"Faith and I are not going to Novoro," Aron says in that imperious voice of his. "That is our next stop."
I watch the others closely, because the moment he mentions Novoro, one shifts, and the other grimaces. Another just stares at the ground.
"Novoro?" Markos asks hesitantly. "I…you truly wish to go there, my Lord of Storms?" He swallows hard and ducks his head. "Not that I question your ways—"
"Novoro," Aron repeats in a firm voice.
"Where were you guys planning on heading with the old Aron?" I ask, curious. "Isn't Novoro the only place up in the mountain pass?"
One nods. "My lord Aron told us he wished to go into the mountains and establish a hideout so he could have defensive ground."
I glance over at my Aron. He just shakes his head, and I speak up again. "I think he lied to you guys. We're going to Novoro, and I bet he was, too."
"But why Novoro?" Vitar blurts, looking confused. "They do not open the gates of their fortress to anyone."
"They will not open for me," Aron declares.
He's right. They'll probably welcome him with open arms…even if it's only to betray him later. But hey, one problem at a time. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure getting in won't be our problem. Novoro's the destination."
"It is the end of the world." Markos's expression is solemn.
"Not quite the end," I add in. "We're going somewhere after that."
“There’s nothing past it,” Vitar says, curious.
"I require your services." Aron speaks again, his tone grave. He doesn’t clarify where we’re going, just that we’re going. "If you choose not to follow, I will be angry."
Markos clenches his hands over his chest, the expression on his face full of intensity. "We are here to serve you in this life and the next, my Lord of Storms. There is no greater honor. Forgive us for questioning you."
Aron grunts, but it's not a mean grunt, just an acknowledgement.
"We're the ones that are new here," I tell them. "If you have questions, ask them. I don't think we can ever have too much information. Aron wants to hear your feedback. Isn't that right, Aron?"
"No," says Aron. "Faith is wrong."
I beam at him, and I'm glad to see the men visibly relax. Communication's important, especially if these guys know something we don't.
"After we go to these places," Solat asks, sitting back on his heels. "Will you remain at the Tower? Do you have the same plan? To create a stronghold and defend yourself?"
All of the men watch Aron closely. I notice Yulenna is silent, her expression one of worry. I can't blame her. We're going to the edges of the world apparently, to extremely dangerous places and she's a bed slave who isn't wanted by her owner. She's probably wondering what her place is in all this and what will happen to her. I make a mental note to befriend her and reassure her that she's safe…and if she doesn't want to stay, I want her to feel comfortable with leaving.
Aron shakes his head. "Waiting like that is waiting for death, is it not?"
It's the right thing to say. The men's eyes light up with enthusiasm. "Shall we hunt them down, my lord? Raise an army in your name?" Solat asks.
"Perhaps not." Aron rubs his chin thoughtfully, and he seems to like the idea. "Perhaps on to Yshrem?"
Yulenna makes a face.
"What?" I ask, narrowing in on that. "What's bad about Yshrem?" Jesus, do these people hate everywhere? No one wants to go to Novoro, or Yshrem, and Katharn and Aventine were crap. Where is it that's safe and relaxing to go to?
She flinches, pulling her cloak close about her shoulders when everyone stares at her. "It is just…" She wrinkles her nose. "A kingdom of scholars and wizards. Adassia is much nicer."
"Adassia is conquered by the Cyclopae," Markos corrects. "As is Yshrem. And the Cyclopae are devotees of my lord Aron."
Cyclops? Freaking cyclops? I've heard everything now…but I'm not surprised. I mean, if there are zombies and angels and gods walking the earth, why wouldn't there be cyclops?
"My lord Aron, may I ask what is in Novoro and beyond that you seek?" Kerren—the quiet one amongst the soldiers—speaks up and asks.
"Yes, you may ask," he says, and turns his back to them. Aron stalks toward me and then puts his hand on my chin. "Say everything to them," he murmurs. "We keep no secrets."
Right. As in, shut your mouth, Faith. "Will do, big guy."
He studies my face thoughtfully, and his thumb moves against my skin, just inches from my lips. Before I can wonder if he's going to touch me more, or kiss me, he releases me and turns away, his cloak swirling. "Let us not be on our way."
The men scramble to their feet, full of enthusiasm. All of them except Kerren, of course, whose face is flushed with embarrassment at being ignored. The others clap him on the back as if to sympathize, but then everyone is mounting up on the woales and Aron looks impatient at me, waiting for me to join him on our land-hippo.
"I'm coming," I mutter, my butt already hurting at the thought of another day (or a week) in the damn saddle.
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