04c Dreams of Fire and Gods: Gods (19 page)

Still too weak to rise, Seffni roused himself slightly to ask, “What’s that?”

Geilin ignored the question, not even turning to see who’d spoken. His eyes were fixed on Koreh. “And what was His Lordship upset about, the night we stayed in Mat’zovya?”

“He was afraid I’d grope him in his sleep.” He contemplated grabbing Sael’s ass to illustrate his point, but the mere thought of it made him stiffen. Thankfully, his naked front was safely pressed up against Sael’s and hidden from view.

Geilin smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Yes, I believe that was it. Oh, my boy… it
is
you!”

He seemed at a loss for more to say, but he was spared having to think of something by the soldier tending Seffni calling out to him. “Iinyo Geilin! Dekan Seffni needs your help, sir!”

“Dekan
Seffni
?” Geilin asked, bewildered. He turned and saw Seffni for the first time, lying on the grass near the water. Geilin drew in his breath sharply. “I suppose there’s little point in worrying about how impossible all of this is.”

He rushed to Seffni’s side and, a moment later, he gently moved Tanum aside so he could pass his hands over Seffni’s chest with delicate blue sparks arcing from his fingertips. Seffni looked around himself and said, “Koreh was right—the whole world has turned blue!”

Sael at last raised his face to look Koreh in the eye. Even with his eyes red from crying, they were still the soft, beautiful green Koreh remembered. “I’m afraid to take my hands off you,” Sael said, his voice still quivering. “I’m afraid you’ll disappear if I do.”

“I know,” Koreh replied. “I don’t think what I did is supposed to be possible. I may have broken some rule… violated some ‘natural order’ or something. And now I’m frightened to find out what the consequences will be.” He took one of Sael’s hands in his own and brought it to his lips for a tender kiss. “But no matter what happens—no matter which gods may rage at us—I will never be separated from you again.”

O
NCE
it was clear that Seffni was doing well under Geilin’s care—and Tanum wasn’t about to have a breakdown over his return, any more than Sael was over Koreh’s—Sael took Koreh to his private tent. There were a lot of questions to be answered, but that would have to wait. Sael knew he would be unable to focus on anything until after he’d taken Koreh to his bed.

His guard insisted on following the two of them to the tent, which was irksome. But it was his duty to assure Sael’s safety. As long as he didn’t try to follow them
inside
, Sael could tolerate it.

Fortunately, the guard didn’t feel his duties extended to that point. He went to tend the fire with the soldier he’d left there earlier that morning, seeming to understand perfectly what Sael meant when he said, “Please make certain no one disturbs me.”

“I can’t believe you’re still so young,” Koreh said, as Sael lost little time shedding his wet clothing. Koreh had nothing to shed.

Typical
, Sael thought with amusement.

“What do you mean? How old did you expect me to be?”

“I wasn’t sure if you would even still be alive,” Koreh replied. “Time is different in Bashyeh. I knew it was moving slower for you, but after almost a century, I’d begun to wonder if you could possibly still be alive in this world.”

Sael was incredibly curious about this “Bashyeh” Koreh had apparently been living in—if “living” was the correct word—but now wasn’t the time for a geography lesson, with both of them naked and hard. Still, he couldn’t let that last comment pass by. “A
century
? You’ve been there for a
hundred years
?” His mouth must have been hanging open like a codfish.

Koreh closed the gap between them and pressed his hot, firm body against Sael’s, making Sael groan and wonder just how much the guards would be able to hear from their place near the campfire.

“Nothing ever changes there,” Koreh said. “Time passes, but doesn’t really. It’s hard to explain.”

“I held a funeral for you just a few days ago,” Sael said, the ache in his heart still painful, even with Koreh holding him now, alive and vital once more. “I haven’t completely recovered from the wounds I sustained when I fell. It’s only been a matter of
weeks
, Koreh!”

Koreh looked at him worriedly. “If you’re still ill, perhaps we shouldn’t do this now….”

“I’m not
that
wounded!” Sael exclaimed in irritation. To prove it, he pulled Koreh close and kissed him hard on the mouth.

K
OREH
accepted the kiss gladly. The warmth of Sael’s lips flooded through his body and warmed him, despite the fact that he was stark naked and the morning air was cool and damp. But when Sael allowed him to take a breath, he said, “Let’s get under the blankets before we
both
get ill.”

“All I have is a soldier’s cot. I’m not sure if we can both fit.”

“We’ll fit, or we’ll put the blankets on the ground.”

Sael laughed and kissed him again, grinding his erection into Koreh’s crotch. This time, Koreh had no qualms about groping him, and he grabbed both of Sael’s smooth ass cheeks and caressed them.

They were able to squeeze onto the cot—just barely—as long as one lay on top of the other. But Sael winced in pain when Koreh was on top, and Koreh realized he wasn’t as fully recovered as he pretended, so they quickly switched positions. Koreh had no difficulty bearing Sael’s weight, and the feeling of his warm, naked skin along the length of Koreh’s torso and legs was utterly amazing.

They kissed each other’s lips and faces and necks, while their erections ground together with an almost painful insistence, as if trying to merge into one. Thankfully, their passion soon produced enough fluid to make their stomachs slick, and the grinding became a smooth, easy sliding that caused the pressure to build in Koreh’s groin until he didn’t know if he could stand any more. Sael’s breath was growing more and more ragged, and Koreh captured his lips with his mouth, wanting to breathe Sael into himself. Sael’s breath filled him, and he felt the pressure build… until Sael gave out a slight whimper into his mouth and his body jerked in Koreh’s arms.

Koreh’s orgasm exploded out of him then, his seed mixing with Sael’s between their bodies. He clung to Sael as they both shuddered and bucked their hips together, riding the peak of a tremendous wave of pleasure, greater than anything he’d ever experienced.

When at last Sael collapsed upon him, spent, Koreh gasped and said, “I’ve been waiting a hundred years for that.”

Sael giggled. But then he raised his head to look into Koreh’s eyes, and his own eyes were filled with incredible sadness. “I thought I was going to die without you,” he said. “I
wanted
to die. And it’s only been a matter of weeks for me. How could you stand it for all that time?”

Koreh smiled at him, but his eyes betrayed him, and he felt tears sliding warm down his temples. “I knew you were somewhere at the end.”

M
ARIK
found a room in the palace that was near the throne room but not currently in use, and it was there Donegh moved the
vek
and their men to, over the course of the morning. It took him longer to move everybody that short distance than it had taken Thuna to move them halfway across the kingdom the night before, and he was thoroughly exhausted afterward. Worlen allowed him to take a short nap, while Marik’s men fidgeted in silence. They dared not make a sound, now that they were inside the castle walls. If they were discovered, a host of palace guards would descend upon them.

The plan was to make for the throne room as quickly as possible, hopefully without alerting the guards. Outside the throne room would be two guards who would have to be disposed of, and then they would be inside the throne room. In midafternoon, this would be brimming over with members of the royal guard and the emperor’s private bodyguards, in addition to a host of nobles—both men and women.

“There will be no way to avoid a battle with the guards,” the
vek
had told the men just before Donegh relocated them, “but no one is to go near the emperor. I must deal with him myself. And do not kill anyone who doesn’t attack you. This isn’t to be a bloodbath. The nobles present must witness my challenge and defeat of the emperor.”

Donegh woke to a gentle shake of his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Worlen putting a finger to his lips to signal silence. The room was dark, though a small amount of light filtered through the heavy curtains. Marik had chosen the room in part because the maids had closed the curtains to prevent daylight from damaging the carpeting and the upholstery of the antique sofas. This was done in many of the formal rooms in the palace when they weren’t in use. But the hallway outside the room wasn’t dark. The halls leading to the throne room had vaulted ceilings with enormous arched windows on both sides, flooding the halls with light on clear days. And there wasn’t a cloud in the sky this afternoon.

“Tell me who is in the throne room,” the
vek
whispered.

The vision Marik extended to him allowed Donegh to peer into the throne room from the vantage point of an overhanging balcony, which was currently empty and dark. The center of the room was lit by the light of Atnu, coming down through a large glass dome over the throne itself. “Emperor Savön is there,” Donegh replied. “So is Lord High Chancellor Djalleh.”

“That could be fortuitous.”

“I count about forty armed guards and soldiers, and perhaps a hundred nobles.”

“I am relying upon the cowardice of Savön’s royal courtiers,” Worlen said acidly, “to keep this battle evenly matched.”

The main hall is completely “dark” to me
, Marik told Donegh.
There are no shadows.

“Marik and I can’t see anything in the hall. It’s too bright.”

“Then we shall have to listen at the door like old women,” Worlen replied. Still, he was smiling, as if this was all an amusing lark to him. Perhaps it was. The man didn’t seem to worry much about danger.

The
vek
set Donegh to the task and, after listening for several dozen heartbeats, the assassin declared the hallway empty. They all gathered at the door, weapons drawn. Once it was open, the
ömem
in the throne room and throughout the palace would be alerted to their presence. The only chance they would have of reaching the throne room without being cut down by a hundred imperial guards would be to run full speed through the halls and quickly take out the guards at the door. Then they would have to barricade themselves in the throne room. There would be no physical way to seal the main door—as well as the four side doors—but Thuna had given Donegh a spell that should do it.

As long as he could reach them in time….

Worlen held up a hand above his head so all could see, even in the muted light of the sitting room. He held up three fingers, and then punctuating each change by stabbing his hand into the air, he counted down: 3… 2… 1….

He threw the door open and charged down the brightly illuminated hall, Donegh and all their men bringing up the rear. It felt to Donegh a bit like children let out to play. Released from their long morning of having to be still and silent, the men screamed almost joyfully as they spread out across the wide marble floor, brandishing swords and rapiers and a few axes. The two guards at the entrance to the throne room were ill-prepared for an assault this deep within the walls of the castle, and their faces registered absolute panic.

Worlen ran one of the poor men through before his sword was halfway out of its scabbard. The other, Donegh dispatched almost as quickly. And then the small band of warriors burst into the throne room amid a cacophony of screams and shouts. The armed guards and soldiers in the room surged forward to meet the invaders, while Donegh hurriedly scrambled to close the double doors and seal them with the Taaweh spell before more guards could arrive from other parts of the castle. He then ran along the outer wall, ducking behind the confused and frightened nobles who instinctively pressed back from the battle in the center of the room.

He reached the first door on the west wall and sealed it, and then continued on to the second. Then he sprinted across the center of the room, ducking under the clashing swords of fighters and jumping over a nobleman who’d tripped over his own cloak and lay on the marble floor, screaming pathetically for help.

The men and women near the east wall had by now recovered from their shock enough to run for the two doors on that side of the room. But Worlen and Donegh had foreseen this in their planning, and four of their men were now blocking those doors, two holding the crowd at bay with their weapons while the other two pushed the doors closed.

Donegh heard the massive doors slam shut, but he knew they wouldn’t hold against the armed soldiers he saw through Marik’s vision, converging on the throne room from outside. There was a crowd of hysterical people between him and the doors, so he dove headfirst into the floor. It swallowed him like water, and he slipped underneath everybody’s feet to pop up in front of the first door and hurriedly cast the spell. Then he ran the short distance along the wall to do the same for the second door.