Wings (3 page)

losing himself in the dance of steel. When Meel finally called a halt, he was startled to find

himself back in reality, sweat streaming from his brow, several small cuts on his arms that he

never remembered receiving.

Meel clapped him on the shoulder, his eyes warm and admiring. “Well done, young man.

You have the makings of a first-class bladesman. You have the mind-set and the grace. Well

done.” The quiet words filled Anyar with a pride he had not ever felt before, and he smiled a

little, nodding in reaction, face flushed.

Meel moved off, calling for other volunteers, and several guards clapped Anyar on the

shoulder with some pride; others ignored him or sent calculating, cold looks his way.

They could not pierce him this time.

He rode out the rest of the practice in a haze of happiness, and as the others dispersed at the

end, he held back, wanting time to himself to try out a few moves he had not gotten into his head

yet.

When the yard was quiet, he moved from the shadows and began to try out what he had

learned, talking to himself in low tones as he worked out how each move could be made into

something that suited his own style.

Sure of his solitude, his heart near stopped when another blade met his own and stopped it

in mid-maneuver. His wide gold eyes stared into amused blue ones.

Immediately he stepped back and bowed, heart pounding.

“C-Commander Tanyan…” he stuttered, cursing the flush that heated his cheekbones.

“Anyar, is it?” Tanyan asked with a small smile.

“Yes, sir.” Anyar wondered if he might choke at this unexpected proximity to his hero.

This close, Tanyan's presence was beyond description, a sliding of awareness along the younger

man's nerves.

“You are good with the knife. Meel is pleased, and it is not often he is provoked to praise.”

Tanyan's smile widened as Anyar's flush deepened. “Come now, show me what you have

learned.”

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Sparring lightly with this man of legend, Anyar thought he had to have slid into a dream.

The older man corrected him in several things, getting him to try again until the moves smoothed

into cohesiveness in his mind and body. When at last Anyar could no longer keep up, exhausted,

Tanyan called a halt and they walked companionably together to the drinking fountain.

Anyar was dazed, sure this must all be an illusion, and that was heightened when he raised

his head from drinking and Tanyan came closer, one hand reaching out and gently wiping the

moisture from his bottom lip with one finger.

The young guard froze, eyes wide and startled, unable to react when the commander came

even closer and pressed Anyar's body up against the post behind him as the taller man slowly

framed his face, leaned closer, and brushed his lips with his own. When there was no protest,

only the sound of his shocked gasp and heightened breathing, then Tanyan slanted his mouth

fully over Anyar's, gently at first, then more roughly as he felt the utter surrender under his

hands.

Anyar moaned with sensation as a tongue penetrated his mouth, claimed his own. This

could not be happening; this could not… He felt hands leave his face and trace downward over

his bare chest, through the dampness of sweat, pausing to rub his nipples teasingly.

He thought he would sink to his knees, so potent were the sensations. Oh gods… The

commander, the subject of all his intimate dreams and fantasies, was touching him, kissing him,

taking him…

One large hand went down to his hip, pulled him into Tanyan's body, and let him feel the

commander's desire pressing into his own rising need.

He trembled like a reed, rising passion eclipsing all sense of right and wrong, all

realization of where he was.

Voices cut into the moment, and Tanyan immediately thrust the boy back, straightened his

own clothing, and smoothed his expression into neutrality. His eyes took in the young guard, lips

kiss swollen, eyes huge with desire he had no knowledge of. His very innocence was an

aphrodisiac to the older man, and Tanyan cursed under his breath at the interruption.

“Come to me this night, Anyar. Let me teach you other things than knives.” His voice was

gentle, at odds with the raging desire that made his body ache.

The boy nodded dumbly, unable to speak, unable to deny Tanyan anything at that moment.

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Long fingers stroked the flushed cheek, claiming…

“I will meet you in the waterfall courtyard. I will ensure we will not be interrupted again.”

The commander's voice purred with sensuality and purpose, and Anyar could only nod again,

mute, watching in dazed amazement as Tanyan turned and walked out of the practice yard.

He stood where he was for a long time, hardly aware of the servants who had come to

clean weapons and put them away. He shook with thwarted desire, unsure what he had missed,

but only knowing he wanted more, much more.

Finally gathering his senses, he moved from the yard and away from the town for a small

distance, needing space to think, to make sense of what had just happened. A great happiness

rose in him, and he looked around him, ensuring no others were close before he spread his wings.

Vanyae watched the proceedings from his viewpoint with narrowed eyes while feeling a

certain anger rising within him. It was very obvious that the young guard was completely

overwhelmed by the attentions of his commander, so it was easy to surmise that this had not

happened before.

Vanyae's fingers clenched on the stone railing, his lips thinning.

Sindin's voice broke into his dark thoughts.

“That is interesting…and fortuitous for us.”

Vanyae's questioning frown bespoke his lack of understanding.

Sindin clapped his shoulder. “It is quite obvious that they will be together this night…”

Vanyae's frown eased, and a cool grin curved his lips. “You are right, my friend. The gods

are kind.”

They watched the young guard walk out onto the plain and then gasped as the boy spread

his huge wings…and sprang into the air. He rose with unbelievable speed, the massive wings

pushing his slight body with ease, and then he played…

They watched in awe as he rolled, spun, and curveted, pure joy expressed in every

movement.

The Nazarians were known as the better fliers of the two races, their smaller wings giving

them leave to aerial maneuvers larger wings could not manage, but never had they seen anything

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13

like this Melanian. His grace and beauty in the air took their breath away. The black wings

spread against the blue sky made Sindin scramble for his sketch pad, which was never far from

his fingers, and he drew furiously as his eyes darted from the scene before them to what his mind

created on paper.

Vanyae's breath grew faster, his eyes alight with fervor.

This boy would be his. Any doubts he had had were lost in the need to possess.

He tried to reason with himself that this was for his country, that the boy would be an

acceptable hostage because of his relationship with Tanyan. The commander would not want the

boy hurt. But inside he knew that it was for a very different reason, something new in his heart.

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Chapter Two

Anyar took forever with his preparations, his nervousness making him drop things and try

on his few pieces of clothing over and over, attempting to find the best combination to impress

Tanyan. His mind whirled first with fear, then with desire, then with a surety that this was some

sort of an amusement on the commander's part, that he would not be there in the courtyard and

Anyar had been the butt of yet another joke.

By the time he finally approached the courtyard, he was a bundle of nerves, trying to

distract himself from feeling ill to his stomach. He pushed the large door open and walked in,

feeling his spirits sink as he look about the lush space and saw no one.

Fighting the drug that held his system in thrall, Tanyan lay on his side, watching the boy

enter. At first he had thought the young guard to blame for this, but now he realized that Anyar

would be just as much a victim as he.

He strained against the gag in his mouth, fought to make a sound, struggled to warn him.

Anyar took an uncertain step farther into the courtyard.

“Commander?” he said softly, feeling a rush of relief as he saw movement at the back, near

the waterfall. It made sense to go there, for it was hidden from prying eyes, a perfect spot for

privacy.

He swallowed hard, trying to restrain his eagerness. He did not want Tanyan to believe him

any younger than he already was. Surely he could achieve some form of normalcy so he did not

appear foolish. He gathered himself and walked forward steadily. His heart jumped as a form

came from the shadows…

He stopped abruptly, confused and disappointed in equal measure.

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“Hello.” The Nazarian envoy's voice was low and deep, accented, but understandable all

the same.

Anyar bowed his head in acknowledgment, though his eyes searched past the tall, bright

figure. “Greetings, my lord,” he answered civilly. “Have you seen Commander Tanyan here this

night?”

The Nazarian nodded, green eyes amused with inner thoughts, the first sign of emotion

Anyar had seen from any of them.

“I have…?” His brow lifted in query.

Anyar flushed uncomfortably. “Anyar, my lord. I am one of Commander Tanyan's

guards,” he stated with quiet pride.

“Ah yes, I saw you earlier in here.”

Anyar nodded politely, wishing the other would leave.

A slim hand waved him past. “I just saw the commander by the waterfall. He seemed eager

to talk to someone. It must have been you he was waiting for.”

Anyar warily bowed again, then slipped past, eager eyes scanning the shadows.

He froze then, suddenly becoming aware of something: there were no guards, and the

Nazarian was here. He looked back over his shoulder, but the other man was gone.

Frowning now, feeling something wrong, he went forward cautiously, hand on his sword.

He rounded the trunk of a tree, then stared in horror before rushing forward to kneel at his

commander's side, drawing his knife to cut the bonds, opening his mouth to cry for help.

Tanyan's wide eyes and horrified expression were the only warnings Anyar had; then

something struck his head, and blackness swirled about his consciousness as he slumped into

strong arms.

Something sharp pricked his neck, and the envoy's voice murmured in his ear, “It's all

right, Anyar. I've got you.”

The darkness then was complete.

* * * * *

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J. C. Owens

The horses kept at a steady gallop through the night, and Vanyae and company felt a

lightness of spirit at the thought of the proximity of their homeland and the welcome that news of

their success would bring.

Vanyae smiled and stroked the black feathers across his lap with possessive fingers. The

young Melanian was utterly limp, swaying with the motion of the horse where he lay, belly down

over Vanyae's thighs.

It had gone well. They had the prisoner they had sought, and only had to disable a few

guards around the stable on the way out. And now he had this prize, this exotic creature who so

fascinated him.

It was long since he had taken anyone to his bed, much less a slave. He had for too long

been focused on this damn war and protecting his people to worry on personal pleasures. But

now…now if things went according to plan, if their capture of Tanyan could put a stop to the

hostilities at least for a span, then Vanyae could again find time for himself.

His father would be pleased. Long had he chastised his son for neglecting himself, for

finding no joy in life. Surely he would allow Vanyae this one indulgence, would not claim the

boy for himself.

Again he caressed the black feathers and longed for the sanctity of home, where he could

begin Anyar's taming.

* * * * *

urge to retch. His head pounded in time to the beat of his heart, and he moaned with the pain of

it. For a time that pain was all he could focus on, but gradually he became aware of other things.

He was bound hand and foot, and a tightness around his waist as he attempted to flex his

wings showed them bound also. He slowly opened his eyes, memory beginning to return. Fearful

memory.

Blinking dazedly, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. He lay on the ground in the

shade of a scrubby tree, and to his relief, the plains spread around him. Not in Nazar, then.

Not yet, he amended as he saw the camp set up around him and the Nazarians grouped near

a fire, some eating, some lounging back, talking to others. There seemed to be far more than the