Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ARLEN
I was getting overwhelmed by the intense attention the barbarian was giving me. He seemed nice enough, and he hadn’t yet given me any reason not to trust him, but he seemed to lack situational awareness. He was reaching for me entirely naked, for goodness sake.
…Not that I was complaining about that. He was gorgeous.
Sneaking another glance at him while he hastened to pull on his trousers, I felt some of the cold that had sunk into my skin melt away as I took in the lines of thick muscle that seemed almost carved from stone.
His thick brown hair was short, shaved on the sides, and he had a beard that was just as thick, but well maintained.
He was tanned perfection, the ink on his skin in swirls and symbols I didn’t recognize only adding to the appeal.
And goddess, his cock. Even unaroused, he was large.
I had to tear my eyes away when he undressed the first time, or end up staring at the man.
I shot a guilty look at Matthew, worried he’d seen me gawking, but his attention was on the barbarian next to him.
His husband, apparently. I hadn’t known of Matthew’s interests until he volunteered as tribute.
I’d only met him a few times when donating clothing to the church, since some of that clothing went to him while he was living under their care.
Had I known, we might have become friends…
“Where injury?” the barbarian who’d saved my life asked again, his bottom half covered at the very least. I was hyper aware of his bare chest and arms with all of those thick muscles, but I did my best to not look, staring up into his dark brown eyes instead.
“I’m alright. Just scratches.”
He grunted, but didn’t let the issue go until I lowered the fur enough to show him the scrapes I’d gotten while escaping.
One on my arm and another on my ribs. I also had some abrasions on my palms from scraping them on the trees and on my knees from when I fell.
They could probably use a good scrub, but nothing I was too worried about.
The barbarian knelt beside me, his hands warm despite the icy rain we’d been caught in as he gently touched my skin. Gooseflesh swept over me at the gentle touch, and I squirmed a little, unused to being touched at all, much less by a handsome man who wouldn’t find my affliction repulsive. Right?
I cast a sidelong glance at Matthew again.
His barbarian wasn’t being overly affectionate, there was no kissing or hand holding, but his side was pressed against Matthew’s, and his harsh scowl softened whenever he looked in the man’s direction.
My rescuer didn’t seem to notice, speaking in his harsher language to the other barbarian who had protected me.
He nodded at whatever his friend was saying, standing and making a staying motion with his hands. “Stay. I fix.”
That made no sense, and I wasn’t sure what he planned on fixing, but I didn't argue with him. I pulled the furs back around my shoulders, huddling a little closer to the fire. I was no longer trembling, but without clothes, I was still cold.
The barbarian came back with a waterskin, a cloth, and a small jar, kneeling in front of me again. He lifted his eyebrows at me, his movements slow as he gently pushed the fur out of his way without removing it completely. “I clean. This helps heal.”
He showed me the jar again, letting me look inside at the paste that looked similar to a healing salve.
At least, that’s what I assumed it was. I did my best not to flinch away from his touch, or react to it at all as he gently cleaned the scrape on my side.
He was careful, and the scrape wasn’t that deep.
Once he was satisfied it was clean, he carefully spread the salve over it.
I found my body reacting to the gentle touch, my cock stirring despite the cold and the dire straits I had been in only a short time earlier.
I tried to hide it by gathering the furs in my lap, and thankfully, he seemed to assume the readjustment was because I was chilled, not that I was trying to hide anything.
He pulled the furs back over my shoulder, tightening them around me to block the wind. I grimaced.
“Maybe I shouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to get it soiled with the salve…”
He looked confused for a moment until the other barbarian spoke over my shoulder, handing him some strips of cloth he then used to wrap the scrape and protect the furs from the salve.
I felt my face flush as he got closer so he could wrap the cloth around my torso, grateful his focus seemed solely on tending to my injuries and not the growing issue between my legs.
Had it truly been so long since I was touched by a man that I would react just because of a simple touch?
I’d measured men for clothing, sure, I was the town tailor and everyone came to me, but I hadn’t realized I was never touched back.
Not even a handshake. It became expected of me to do my job, and thanks wasn’t necessary.
The thought was both depressing and a little vindicating.
There was a good reason I left. I wasn’t a traitor just because I wanted my own happiness.
After the wound was bandaged properly, he readjusted the furs so only my arm and shoulder were out so he could tend to that scrape next.
It was a little deeper than the one on my ribs, and must have been bleeding freely at some point because there was dried blood on my arm.
No wonder those dogs found me so easily.
The moment they caught that scent, it was an easy trail to follow.
The barbarian made a tsk sound, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully cleaned the wound without making it bleed again.
He murmured something, and Matthew moved closer, his own frown firmly in place as he studied the wound.
He glanced over his shoulder at his husband, asking without words for his opinion.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing at my arm. It was hard to get a good look at the injury, but it didn’t feel that bad.
Matthew’s barbarian finally stood, coming to look at the injury himself. He grunted, shaking his head. “It does not need stitches. It will be fine with a wrap.”
“Stitches?” I squawked, twisting my arm to get a better look. It only made the injury burn when I did so, and I flinched at the movement. The barbarian helping me grabbed my shoulder, forcing me to sit forward again so I no longer hurt myself, shaking his head with a reassuring smile.
“It’s okay. You okay.”
Letting out a slow breath, I chose to trust him. I hadn’t felt much of the injury when I first got it, too panicked at the thought of getting caught to pay attention to the pain. If it was that bad, I’d feel it, wouldn’t I?
The barbarian put the salve on my arm, careful not to hurt me, and wrapped it firmly, but not so tight that I lost feeling in my arm. He seemed to have at least a basic knowledge of healing, which was more than I could say for myself. The most common injury I had was pricked fingers from sewing.
Once my injuries were tended to, he bundled me back up, and the other barbarian who had been standing nearby handed me a bowl of food.
Just dried meat and some bread, but it was warm, and I appreciated it.
I’d been so nervous about my escape that I hadn’t eaten anything all day.
Matthew and his husband seemed to have eaten already, but my two rescuers joined me with their own bowls, sitting on the logs they must have dragged over before the rain started, because they were only slightly damp and not soaked like we were when we arrived.
“Um… so what happens next?” I asked Matthew, since he was familiar and it was comforting to have someone I knew as part of my rescue party.
My rescuer answered before Matthew could, his words slow as he seemed to consider what he was saying before speaking. “Three more town visits. Then Al Nuzem.”
My heart flipflopped in my chest at the reminder of where we were headed.
Al Nuzem always sounded so exotic whenever the traveling merchants spoke of it.
I never thought I’d have an opportunity to visit, much less end up moving my entire life there.
According to rumors, it was safe there for people with my affliction, but I was always afraid to hope.
“Is it safe? To go to the towns?” I asked cautiously. I wasn’t sure if the other towns reacted much like mine did. If they had, I would prefer to avoid them.
The barbarian on my left, who spoke better common tongue than his friend, answered that question. “You will not go to the towns. Only a few go. The rest stay with the wagons and rest. It is safer.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief, nodding in agreement. “I’m okay with that plan. I’ll admit I’d be useless in a fight. It’s a miracle I made it out of town on my own.” I glanced at my pack and grimaced. “I realize now I didn’t pack properly for the journey. I was in a hurry…”
Matthew seemed to struggle for a moment before speaking, his words trembling in a familiar way. I’d forgotten Matthew had a stammer when he lived in the orphanage. I hadn’t interacted with him much, and when I did, he didn’t speak to me unless he had to. “W-What d-d-did y-you p-pack?”
I wrinkled my nose, poking at my bag with my foot. It was a little embarrassing how illprepared I was. I hadn’t even packed spare clothes. I figured I could purchase some material and make something when we arrived in Al Nuzem.
“Keepsakes. Sewing tools. Some of my favorite material. I’d planned on packing up my whole shop, buying a wagon, that sort of thing, but they locked the gates, and I was pretty sure the mayor was having me watched.
I grabbed the things that were most important to me and ran when their guard was lowered.
I figured it was better to travel light. ”
“No clothes?” my rescuer asked, confused.
My cheeks burned as I shook my head. “I thought I’d make more when we settled. It’s warmer in Al Nuzem, after all…”
To my surprise and relief, he seemed to understand that thought process, nodding once. “Very warm. Our clan make new clothes while we journey. Change when we go back.”
He spoke in a stilted version of the common tongue, but at least I could understand him for the most part. It would have been a lot scarier if I didn’t understand a word he was saying.
“I-I have a s-s–” Matthew grimaced, cutting himself off. He shot a pained look at his husband, but the barbarian just gave him a look, steady patience in his eyes as he waited for Matthew to speak.
No one rushed him, and while he looked embarrassed, he gamely pushed through and said what he wanted to say. “I-I have a s-spare outf-f-fit,” he offered. “I a-always bring t-t-two.”
I cocked my head, studying his now much larger frame.
When I’d known him, he’d been rail thin.
He’d filled out a lot, which was why I didn’t recognize him until he spoke to me.
He was now muscular, and no longer hunched in on himself, making him look taller than when I’d last seen him.
He wasn’t as big as the barbarians, but the change made me wonder if I’d be expected to train like they did.
It would explain why Matthew was so big now, but it wasn’t something I would enjoy doing.
I didn’t even like watching fights. I always left out the back if barfights started in town.
“I’m not sure they’d fit,” I replied honestly. “You’ve grown since I last saw you.”
Matthew’s husband scowled at me. “He has not grown. He has been properly fed. Your cruel town starved him to where he had to volunteer as tribute to survive.”
I flinched at the accusation, dropping my gaze to my feet as shame filled my chest. “I… I hadn’t realized…”
Matthew had always been thin, but I’d admit I didn’t give it much attention. I donated clothing when I could, but my focus the last few years had been my parents’ health and taking over their shops. I admittedly hadn’t paid much attention to anything else.
“A-Arlen,” Matthew called quietly, waiting for me to look up before giving me a reassuring look. “Y-Y-You helped. W-Warm c-clothes helped.”
He turned to his husband, leaning to whisper in his ear.
I wasn’t close enough to hear him, so I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but it almost sounded as if his words were steadier when speaking to him.
If that was true, I was glad for it. He deserved to feel safe and heard.
I never liked the way the town treated the orphans.
It was why I donated clothes as often as I could.
I repaired old clothes people left in my shop or created what I could with the scraps from my orders.
They weren’t the nicest clothes I could make, but I figured it was better than nothing.
That Matthew seemed to appreciate it eased the shame a little for not doing more.
Matthew’s husband grunted, looking me over once before his scowl eased just a little. “You donated clothes to the poor?”
“When I could,” I nodded. “With my parents falling ill and the chaos of taking over the shop, I’ll admit it wasn’t as often as I would have liked, but…”
The barbarian made a face, waving me away. “It was enough. You are right, Matthew’s clothes will not fit you. We will ask Simon in the morning.”
I wasn’t sure who that was, but before I could ask, a yawn so large my jaw cracked escaped me and my rescuer ushered me out of my seat, pointing toward the nearby wagon. “You rest now. Journey in morning.”
It wasn’t a bad idea, I was exhausted after everything that had happened. With the fire, the food in my belly, and someone familiar to talk to, I felt safe enough to get some sleep. I stood, keeping the furs wrapped tightly around me to maintain my modesty.
“I’ll see you in the morning?” I asked Matthew cautiously. He nodded, giving me a soft smile.
Before I could take more than a few steps on my own, my rescuer scooped me off my feet like he had earlier, moving me into the wagon and settling me in an empty spot away from the opening and the wind.
There were a few sleeping bodies nearby, but none stirred at our arrival, and my rescuer laid down beside me, patting my shoulder gently and whispering into the dark.
“You are safe. Rest now. I protect you.”