Chapter Five #5
This was where he would stay over the coming days while the tribe prepared for the ceremony.
Farigoth sternly reminded him that he was not to touch himself.
He assigned him a comfortable chamber and instructed the guards—hand-picked, mated orcs—to deliver three meals a day.
Farigoth would drop in from time to time but couldn’t stay.
Andre welcomed the solitude. It gave him time to think. The chamber was spacious and clad in beige marble. On the far end, it opened into an enclosed garden of verdant grass and fragrant flowers, a gnarly olive tree providing shade against the midday sun.
Rumors that the promised Valian men were delayed reached him via the guards. It caused disgruntlement among the unmated orcs in Turia. The tribe, understandably, wanted more men sooner.
The days stretched, and Andre was relieved when Farigoth picked him up one afternoon and delivered him to one of the temples on the central square.
A young man, a silk loincloth protecting his modesty, stood between the decorative pillars framing either side of the entrance.
He bowed to them, his short, blond hair falling into his face.
He was young, perhaps twenty, of slim build with a flat stomach and well-developed pecs.
A sea of freckles sprinkled his friendly face.
“Welcome to the temple of Rargesh. My name is Gael. I’ve prepared the baths for you.”
Andre looked between Gael and Farigoth, unsure what he’d missed.
“Our mating ritual begins at dusk,” Farigoth said, and Andre’s heart skipped a beat. “Gael will help you prepare. Take care. I will not see you before the ceremony.”
Gael took Andre’s hand, his warm fingers closing around it, gently pulling him into the shade of the temple. “Come.”
“Go with him. No harm will come to you.”
Andre regarded Farigoth over his shoulder as he followed Gael down a humid hallway, but the orc had already turned and was walking away.
Gael politely inquired about his journey south, sandals clacking against the pale stone floor.
Steering him deeper into the temple, he nodded and smiled when Andre recounted the events of the past weeks.
The temple’s interior was stiflingly hot, Andre’s hand damp against Gael’s.
The young man’s friendly familiarity was foreign to him, but it was nice to have an instant friend.
“Rargesh is the orc god of love and beauty,” Gael explained when Andre asked, his quiet voice echoing off the walls.
“We wash and groom ourselves in his temple, ensuring we’re beautiful for our mates so we can serve them well as receptacles for their seed.
” His tone was calm and free of shame. He might as well have been talking about the weather.
But his words ignited Andre. He yearned to be used like that by Farigoth, to exist only for his pleasure.
“This is the first time he’s left me without guards in weeks,” Andre said, mostly to distract himself from the flaring desire.
Gael nodded. “That’s normal. Our great chief aims to safeguard your unmated state. In the temple of Rargesh, he doesn’t have to worry. Unmated men cannot be claimed here, as Rargesh forbids it. It’s a temple for couples and unattached men. The initial mating may not be performed here.”
“Why?”
“It’s the domain of another god.”
“I’m surprised they have a separate god for…” Andre hesitated to say the word, “orgasm when there is already a god of love.”
“Oh yes,” Gael said brightly. “Orakh is the god of orgasm, Rargesh the god of love. The god of fertility is Ugkor, who is different from the god of whelping. Then there are the gods of lust and sex, which are separate domains, too.” Andre’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline.
“It’s the same in other areas. The supreme deity of the orcs is their god of war, but there are also the god of strength, the god of battle… The list goes on.”
They turned a corner, steam thickening the air. Even the walls were sweating, drops of water running down the stones.
The corridor ended in an imposing arch, which opened into a circular marble chamber.
A colonnade ran around it, scented candles burning on shelves built into the wall.
Muted sunlight fell through small, evenly spaced holes in the domed ceiling.
At the center of the chamber, a large, octagonal pool of steaming water had been let into the tiles.
They toed off their sandals at the entrance, and Gael unselfconsciously removed his loincloth. Andre, flushing, followed his example.
“I’ve been chosen as one of your companions.” Gael picked up a pitcher and, rounding Andre, spilled warm water over his shoulders.
“Companions?”
“Attendants. Friends. To keep you company, help you groom. There’ll be more of us.”
“You’re from southern Vale too? Your accent…” Andre cupped his hands, and Gael filled them with water so he could wash his face.
“Yes, though I’ve been here for a long time.
My village was one of the first the orcs raided.
I was surprised when my mates claimed me,” for the first time, Gael’s cheeks showed color, “but it’s been a dream.
I’m living a life of leisure and pleasure.
Back home, I had to perform hard, manual labor to eke out a living.
Here, I take care of the temple, and my mates take care of me. I don’t want for anything.”
He finished rinsing Andre and gestured for him to enter the marble chamber when heavy footsteps sounded down the corridor. Startled, Andre covered himself with his hands.
Three orcs, their scent heavy in the air, rounded the corner, a young man with them. Only when they stepped out of the shadows did Andre see it was Lawrence. He looked good—his blue eyes were as bright as his smile, his skin smooth and glowing. The orcs bowed to Andre but addressed Gael.
“We’re dropping off Lawrence as a companion for the high mate,” one of the orcs growled, his hands possessively roaming Lawrence. His tone suggested he wasn’t happy to part with his mate.
“It’s only for a short time,” Gael said diplomatically. “Your mate is safe in the temple. You’ll get him back later.”
“But this will happen again?” the orc grumbled.
“Yes. If your mate’s been chosen as a companion, he will be required to spend time with Andre and attend him.
You may visit him in the baths if you cannot go without breeding him for a couple of hours.
” Gael said it matter-of-factly, with no hint of humor, like there was nothing unusual about this conversation.
The suggestion of a visit pacified the orcs. Lawrence kissed them, tongues meeting, bodies pressing together. He moaned, then broke away, sending them off.
“High mate, huh?” Lawrence said, turning to Andre, a playful grin on his face.
Andre waved him off. He would’ve hugged Lawrence had it not been for his state of undress. “It’s good to see you. I wish I’d been able to talk to you on the way south.”
“Farigoth kept you on a tight leash.” Andre didn’t mind that strong protective instinct of Farigoth’s. Lawrence’s lips curled. “Oh, you like the leash.”
“Don’t you?”
Lawrence chuckled. “Touché.” He slipped out of his sandals and loincloth, Andre taking a step back and averting his eyes as the two men washed each other, water splashing onto the tiles and draining away through a gutter in the floor.
In the past weeks, he’d seen more nudity than in his entire life, but he still wasn’t used to it.
Freshly clean, they moved into the rotund chamber. The marble floor was warm under Andre’s feet, heated from below.
“First, we soak.” Gael picked up a delicate ceramic vial and poured its contents into the octagonal pool, a dark, floral scent rising.
Andre took the steps leading into the water, comfortable heat enclosing him. Submerged to the shoulders, he sat on the marble bench that ran along the inside of the pool. Gael fetched some supplies, and then he and Lawrence joined Andre, flanking him.
It was strange—Andre had rarely been the center of attention, always the invisible helping hand, his lord’s aide.
Now that he was about to become Farigoth’s mate, his role was changing.
He had companions, and a certain importance was placed upon him.
The notion was new and uncomfortable, but like he’d grown to serve Lord Aranin, he’d grow to be worthy of Farigoth.
In the heat of the water, fatigue rolled over him. His muscles loosened; his head dropped against the rounded lip of the pool. A sigh escaped him.
Lawrence turned to him. “You’re looking forward to getting mated? He’s kept you waiting.”
“It’s tradition for the chief to mate in the temple.”
“I know, but…” Lawrence squinted. “You want to be mated, right?”
“Of course.”
“All right. Good. At the campfires… you looked uneasy. You’ve always been so reserved.”
Underwater, Andre picked at his nails. “The orcs have a culture of putting their lust on display. It’s not that I mind it. I don’t. It’s just… I’m not used to it. Fucking in front of an audience is not exactly appreciated in Vale.”
Lawrence laughed. “You’re right. It’s not.”
“You’ll adjust,” Gael said. “I found it strange, too, in the beginning. It doesn’t faze me anymore.”
Heavy footfalls approached from the hallway.
“Same.” Lawrence spread his arms on the pool’s rim. “God, I already miss them. I haven’t been fucked since mid-morning.”
A smile played on Gael’s lips. “You keep your mates busy?”
“Oh yes. I can’t seem to go more than a couple of hours without getting fucked. I’m lucky there are three of them.”
Gael nodded emphatically. “I have two mates, and they can barely keep up. I’m ravenous for them, especially now that I’m pregnant.” Andre’s eyes shot to Gael’s stomach, but submerged, and with the dim lighting, he didn’t see anything. “Though an orc like Farigoth would wear out the most eager man.”
Andre hadn’t noticed Gael having a belly.