Scorpion

  What would I have to do to keep you?

  Maybe you have the strength, Kendras.

  It only takes one man.

  “I’m not pure without you,” Kendras murmured. “I’m nothing. And I won’t be anything if you leave.” Breathing was suddenly hard, but he plowed on. “You said I might have the strength. I want to. I want to be what you need.”

  Adrastes blinked, and then, on an impulse, pulled Kendras close in a tight embrace. Kendras couldn’t do anything but respond by holding him just as tight. Unwilling, unable to let him go anytime soon. “Let me try. Just let me try. Please.”

  “You’ll stay here. Don’t worry. I… I will find a way.” Adrastes kissed his temple, then took his face in both hands and kissed his lips. “Stay here, in my quarters. It’ll help me think. And remember what else there is.”

  Kendras relaxed, or maybe this was just sapping his strength. He’d much rather face superior numbers on the battlefield than try finding his way through this dilemma. And he didn’t even have to make this kind of choice. He’d always be a Scorpion. He didn’t know how to be anything else.

  Chapter 19

  “I DON’T believe it—you did it, Kendras!” Riktan shouted when a pair of Flames led him, Dev, and Selvan into the room.

  “You thought I wouldn’t?” Kendras said, but grinned. The surprise and joy on Riktan’s face suddenly filled him with pride.

  “No, it was that the Flame bitches”—Riktan lowered his voice when he caught a glance from one of the Flames who were now leaving them alone in the room—“didn’t say a word where they’d take us. I was half-expecting they’d kick us out of the city gates or try to kill us.”

  “No, that won’t happen,” Adrastes said calmly and stood from the table. He crossed the distance to the other Scorpions, and embraced first Riktan, then Dev, and allowed Selvan to kiss his hands. “It’s good to see you.”

  “And you, officer,” Dev said. “What happened? We thought you were captured.”

  “Yes, I was prisoner of Dalman. Kendras found me and bought my freedom.” Adrastes’s tone was even, offhanded, as if there really wasn’t anything more to the story.

  While it wasn’t too far from the truth, it troubled Kendras. Yet, the officer had never told them anything, even before. He had never lied outright, merely abbreviated the tales as if they weren’t important. Even the memory didn’t hold the whole story, what with its erased names. But of course, Adrastes’s name would have been rubbed out, since he was a ruler’s son. Nobody had been supposed to know. Even now, Adrastes didn’t mention it.

  Yet—he himself didn’t share his whole story, either, Kendras thought. Maybe he’d write down the most important events in the memory. But the fact that Widow had found the book and could easily have read it gave him pause there. A complete memory also made them vulnerable. What if all that secrecy was just to protect them?

  Adrastes bid them all sit at the large table in his quarters, which was stacked high with food and drink. He’d dismissed all servants and slaves, so they filled their plates and mugs themselves. Only Selvan sat at his feet, and Adrastes let him, feeding him by hand. “Kendras said you’d been wounded.”

  “The Flame medics took care of us. Before that, Selvan found us on the battlefield. Lucky bastard didn’t even get scratched.” Dev smiled. “Riktan and me ended up in the Flame barracks. Selvan made sure the medic didn’t put us out our misery or castrate us to become honorary Flames.”

  Riktan snorted. “Yes, they didn’t like that. Seems the order came from the very top.” He fixed his gaze on Adrastes for a few moments too long, clearly asking for an explanation.

  “I asked them for this favor,” Kendras said. “Since I was running their errand in Dalman.”

  “You’re mixing with the lords and ladies these days, Kendras?” Dev slapped him on the shoulder. “Never struck me as anybody’s errand boy.”

  “Yes, I thought being wounded is bad enough, but waiting here, for something we didn’t know would ever happen, not sure what had happened to Kendras, or you…” Riktan shrugged. “Seems we were all prisoners.”

  “Well, you’re free now. They will return your weapons to you too.” Adrastes reached for a large flatbread and tore it into several large pieces. “I’d say, this calls for a celebration.”

  When Dev, Riktan, and Selvan had left, Kendras stood from the table. He glanced across the remains of the meal: the empty wine cups, the crumbs of food. A hint of the old times, laughter, joking, and Selvan who’d kissed the officer’s hands over and over, so grateful for his return.

  Seeing Adrastes say goodbye to them at the door, smiling at them and trading a few half-drunken jokes, Kendras wondered why Adrastes hadn’t told them the truth all evening. Who he was, why they were still alive, and what role they were supposed to play. Was the officer merely humble, or political? Did he not trust them?

  He wanted answers.

  “Who’s Widow?”

  “Widowmaker? He’s my sister’s.” Adrastes’s steps were heavier than they had been before the wine, and he sat down at the table again. “When she took power, the Elder of Vededrin sent him to kill her. Or spy on her. Well, he fell in love with her. Apparently, the only thing that finds the path to that foulmouthed bastard’s shrunken heart is a woman who won’t take his vile temper.”

  Kendras shook his head. “And… she?”

  “What do you mean? Whether she loves him too? I’d think so. They’ve been sleeping together for, what, ten, eleven years now.”

  Kendras was astonished, but it made sense. She didn’t seem the woman to be intimidated by Widow’s fouler moods. But he did wonder how Widow felt about having his woman marry another man. Worse, marry the man he had betrayed to be with her. That couldn’t be easy, even for the cold-hearted bastard.

  “She sent him because she knew that if anybody could find me, it’s him. Widow is a first-rate assassin and spy.” Adrastes shrugged. “Not much of a soldier, but he’s outstanding at what he does.”

  “And he knows who you are.”

  “He thinks he does, yes.” Adrastes opened the tunic he was wearing. They both wore simple black tonight, but the clothes were finely made. Nothing like Kendras had ever owned or plundered. He felt more at ease in his leathers, but he’d left those behind. Adrastes had told him not to worry—he’d receive new ones, a new armor, new weapons. That would take a week or two, Kendras assumed. Which meant he’d stay at least for that long. He didn’t want to think further than the next breath.

  Riktan and Dev had no idea of the choice. They’d simply assumed that life would go on. The officer would choose the new men; they’d train them and take them in and then go and find a war to fight, somebody to protect, something to destroy.

  But what were they without the officer?

  Kendras stood, leaned in, and kissed the hollow under Adrastes’s throat. The man opened his arms and chuckled. “Forget about the titles tonight. I don’t like seeing you spooked like this. You’re not a horse, Kendras.”

  Kendras opened his mouth and scraped his teeth along Adrastes’s throat, feeling the man’s breath hitch. During sex, they were only two men. That had to suffice for the moment. Whatever the officer decided, whatever he would push from his life. Not yet. There was still time. If he could find a way to shed the pain, replace it with a different feeling that was more intense. “Tell me. Why did you leave? What happened?”

  “I was supposed to follow my father. Yes, I would have been the Lord Protector.” Adrastes pulled Kendras’s tunic over his head and discarded it. “But something happened… and I reconsidered. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t have the courage. I met the Scorpions and their leader, the officer. My predecessor.”

  “And?”

  “I was only looking for diversion. He didn’t know me, hadn’t heard who I was, so he didn’t rush to do my will, and he didn’t plan to use me for his own ends.”

  “That must have been different.”

  “You have no idea. It opened m
y eyes. I’d meant to seduce him into my bed, but he seduced me into his life. I hadn’t felt anything like that for another man. Skin and bones, inside and out, he made me his, and then taught me what it means to be a man, rather than a political pawn and spoiled princeling. He said it ruins a man’s character to begin life as an officer.” Adrastes shook his head. “My sister believes that is where I went wrong. But I know that is where I went right. I proved myself. I was just one man among others. A humbling experience, but one that made me see more clearly who and what I am.”

  “Like you did with me.”

  The officer breathed deeply. “That was what I hoped to do, yes.”

  “For each of us.”

  The officer huffed. “I’m not a god, Kendras. I have my own doubts and fears.”

  Kendras looked up and met the man’s eyes. Endless, deep calm was what he saw, but no doubts. He did understand the high priest’s petty vengeance to make him a “sacred warrior.” That strength and peace was something Kendras wanted to claim and own and have to himself. He’d always wanted to be special to this man among his brothers, had wanted to be singled out as the man’s lover. But beyond that one, tantalizing almost-promise—maybe you are strong enough, Kendras—there had been nothing. They’d all been equals to him. But this might just have changed. Dev, Riktan, even Selvan, who all the Scorpions treated with indulgent fondness, had left, and Kendras was still here.

  “My predecessor showed me what the Scorpions could be if led right. I’m following in his footsteps.”

  “What happened to him? You only wrote he died?”

  “Infected wounds. We buried him on that mountain.” Adrastes touched the side of his face. “You are worried that I’ll become Lord Protector. My sister says Fetin doesn’t have enough officers, but what she needs is a general the troops will follow. My sister can command that kind of loyalty, but it might not be enough against Dalman.”

  “It is your city.”

  “I fought against Fetin before. I didn’t want to feel that kind of family obligation… pretended my only obligation was to you and the others.”

  Kendras felt his heart pound. Saying “you” had been very deliberate. Adrastes could have said “the Scorpions,” without singling him out at all.

  “But my family is asking for help. Have I run long enough? I feel I cannot run any longer. What do you think?”

  Kendras swallowed hard. The end of the Scorpions. If the officer left…. “Then let us fight at your side. Even if… that’s the end.”

  “You think it is?”

  “We’d be only four. Three, if you don’t count Selvan. If some fall in battle, then… that’s it.”

  “You’re doing it again.” The officer’s lips quirked in a melancholy smile. “You’re giving up. Don’t, Kendras. Nothing’s been decided yet.” He leaned in for another kiss, gentle, playful, as if to rouse Kendras from his despairing thoughts. “Come to bed.”

  Chapter 20

  LIGHT streaming through the windows woke Kendras, but Adrastes was gone. He propped himself up on his elbows, amused at how the soft mattress tried to swallow him when he moved. He wasn’t used to so much comfort. He sat up and freed himself from the opulent bed with its embroidered cushions and blankets.

  Adrastes stood in the far corner of the room. He was beginning to put on the black armor, and Kendras moved there, silently, and knelt down to fasten the armor plates to the officer’s legs.

  “Hmm, a naked squire. I should make that a habit.”

  Kendras licked his lips. “Your Highness.”

  The officer laughed. “You make that sound dirty.”

  Kendras stood and made sure that the armor sat right, then took the helmet and studied the metalwork. “Riding off into battle?”

  “No. I was merely checking if this still fits me.” Adrastes crouched and straightened and went through the full range of movements. “Yes, it does. I am planning to make an entrance at today’s Round Chamber meeting. The Elder will be there too.”

  “I don’t have armor.”

  “You will. If you’re willing to stand through what is undoubtedly going to be a torturous amount of politics.”

  “Not as bad as a siege engine breaking my bones. Barely.” Kendras handed Adrastes the helmet. “I’ll be there. So will the others, apart from Selvan.”

  “Very well.” Adrastes placed the helmet under his arm and gave a crisp salute that made Kendras smile. “I will have a word with my mother and sister, but I’ll come back here before we confront the Elder.”

  All this meant he’d made his decision. Kendras couldn’t help but feel a lurch at seeing him in that armor. Last night, though, Adrastes had been his, and Kendras didn’t doubt that Adrastes had felt the same about him. They’d pleasured each other, fucked each other, touched and held like they’d never be parted. Kendras’s heart clenched at the memory of how much tenderness could be in something like that, a secret, treasured moment that had nothing to do with being betrothed or another man’s comrade.

  This ran deeper and hurt more. He should embrace the pain. As the medic would have said, pain meant he was still alive. Only the dead felt no pain. The fallen Scorpions were beyond that, wherever they were. Apart from listed in that book. The memory. What remained.

  The officer ran a gauntleted hand down Kendras’s belly, but kept meeting his eyes. “I will get you in the afternoon. Take what clothes, weapons, armor you need. They’ll know to serve you.”

  “Why?”

  “As my companion, Kendras. We’ll see about everything else in due course.” Adrastes pulled him close. The cold metal of the scale armor pressed against Kendras’s body, but he didn’t mind. He pushed the helmet hard against Adrastes’s chest. “If you don’t come get me, I’ll find you.”

  Adrastes laughed. “You would.” He took the helmet and left the room, strides wide and purposeful. Seeing him walking proud ran like warm water across Kendras’s skin. A feeling he could relish, despite what it would mean.

  He cleaned up, shaved, and then servants brought him trousers, a tunic and a belt that could hold weapons but didn’t. He wandered the princely quarters aimlessly afterward, touched this and that, but he really was only circling the book on the table.

  He settled down to read, read about the previous officer and Adrastes’s exploits, then how he’d joined. The flowing handwriting seemed to stall when it said “Kendras was betrothed”—thoughts guiding hand, or maybe emotion. But what kind of thoughts or emotion?

  Kendras had a servant bring him a sheet of vellum and ink, and he sat there, scratching uneven letters on the soft white surface in ink as black as blood. He wrote down the names of the dead, and once the line was completed, his hand felt tight and tense, and he had to relax his fingers around the steel pen. It wasn’t his to do—it was the officer’s task to ensure that the memory told the whole story, but Adrastes was occupied with politics.

  Servants came and measured him, asked him what kind of armor he wanted, and that preoccupied him. He told them all he wanted was a simple dark scale armor, and what kind of protective clothing underneath. His leathers. A glaive. Gloves with the scorpion embroidered on them. They first brought him a sword, which was adequate, if unfamiliar, but more strikingly, only the Flames were allowed to carry weapons like this inside the citadel. And, of course, the ruling family.

  My companion.

  Kendras had Dev, Riktan, and Selvan brought to him. The others clearly had questions, but none asked them yet. They had to know that Adrastes was more than he’d appeared, but they seemed to wait for somebody else to say so. Kendras had too many questions himself, so he just took them outside and put them—and himself—through their paces, working hard until they all were encrusted with sweat and dust and needed a rest.

  They cleaned up and had a meal together, the awkward silence now softened with tiredness. Selvan had clearly soothed both Riktan’s and Dev’s minds, the bond as strong as ever. Kendras watched them and tried to hide his own worries.

&n
bsp; “There might be a fight,” he finally said and put the rest of his bread down. He wasn’t that hungry anymore.

  “Finally,” Dev said, baring his teeth in a grin.

  “The officer will challenge the Elder of Vededrin today. He won’t like that. We’ll just have to cover his back.”

  “Who is he,” Selvan asked after a quick glance to the others. It was maybe a slave’s right to break the silence. “He’s… not the same.”

  “He is the same.” It wasn’t like the officer had suddenly turned into the prince. He’d always been the prince, the future Lord Protector. “But yes, we might lose him.”

  The others sat in stunned silence. “They want him to lead their army when Dalman attacks again. I’ll be there too.” Simple, and still not the whole truth, like speaking it made it all real. Kendras felt like a traitor for saying it, and for remaining silent.

  “And me,” said Dev. “Fuck them. We’ll fight again.”

  “Me too,” said Riktan, and Selvan, never a fighter, nodded.

  “Keep your eyes open for recruits. We’ll have to build our strength.”

  “There’s one,” Riktan said. “He had his balls taken, but he’s a fierce little fucker.”

  “A Flame tanesh?” Kendras lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure he’s interested? They do get those nice armors, and what I’ve seen of their barracks….”

  “Just because he doesn’t have balls….” Riktan grinned. “Yes, he was interested.”

  “We can always try him out.” Kendras laughed when Riktan leered. “But don’t forget you’ll have to share him.”

  “I’ll share anything with my brothers.”

  I won’t, Kendras thought. Not anymore. He did enjoy the fact that the officer kept him closer than the others.

  “Is it because their skin is so soft? You tired of a real man?” asked Dev, shaking his braids in clear challenge.

  Riktan laughed. “I take what I can get, Dev. You should know that. I even took you, you ugly lump.”