Chapter Twenty-Seven
Andros left in the early afternoon, laden with butter and jerky and bread.
Finnvid hadn’t been invited into the conversation that resulted in Andros deciding to try the shorter, harsher route through the mountains, hoping to beat the other Torians back to Windthorn.
Finnvid was glad he’d been left out. He hated the thought of Andros being in danger, especially by himself, but who was he to tell the others what chances they should take to protect their people?
How could he contribute anything but noise to that conversation?
So he’d stayed quiet as they’d talked, washing the bandages he’d just lifted from Theos’s wounds, and then crawling outside to let them dry in the sun and freezing wind.
He should boil them, but Theos and Andros had decided it was too dangerous to build a fire sufficient for such a task.
“You’d need to use wood, and the smell of wood smoke travels.
It could be enough to send them searching for us,” Theos had said, and Andros had nodded in agreement.
“I’d think the smell of melted butter might tip them off as well,” Finnvid retorted, but he knew that the small flame inside the den wasn’t producing much odor.
So he hung the cloths and hoped the sun would bleach them clean, and he stood by Theos as they watched Andros set off into the wilderness alone. Then Finnvid took Theos’s hand and tugged gently. “Back inside,” he said firmly. “You have a fever, and pushing yourself too hard won’t help anything.”
“Pushing myself to stand up?”
“For now, that’s too much.” Finnvid shooed Theos into the den and scrutinized him as he sank onto his blankets, clearly exhausted. “You need to drink more—”
“If I drink any more broth, I’ll drown.”
“I was going to say more honey-water. And I’ll give you another dose of the medicine. And then you should sleep.”
“You’ll keep me company?”
Finnvid blushed as if he were the one with a fever. “If you want.”
“I do.”
So Theos drank the honey-water and took his medicine, and then he lay back and lifted the covers, making a cave for Finnvid to crawl into.
It was warm and safe, snuggled in against Theos’s chest, with the Sacrati’s heavy arm draped over Finnvid’s torso.
He tried not to wonder how many men Theos had held like this.
How many women, even. For Theos, Finnvid was just one of many. For Finnvid, Theos was the only one.
“Are you asleep?” Finnvid whispered.
“No.”
Finnvid thought about rolling over, but really, it was better to keep his face safely hidden. “What was it like? Growing up in Windthorn? Were you happy?”
“Happy?” Finnvid felt Theos’s shrug. “I suppose. I was . . . busy, I’d say.
Always running somewhere, always up to some mischief or another.
There were lots of kids in the house, and more out in the city, of course.
Always someone to play with, or fight with.
” He was silent for a while, then said, “Sacrati get their own rooms. You saw that. Nothing big or fancy, but . . . our own. It’s supposed to be an honor.
But for the first . . . well, I was going to say for the first while, but the truth is, I haven’t really gotten over it, I don’t think.
It’s still lonely, in there with no one else. ”
“You have bed partners,” Finnvid said, because there was no point in pretending otherwise.
And Theos clearly saw no reason to try to deny it. “Aye. But . . . not usually. Not in bed, usually. I’m supposed to want to sleep alone. It’s a privilege.”
“So you do it, even though you don’t want to.” Finnvid shook his head gently. “No wonder you were so happy to get me as a bedwarmer.”
Theos snorted, a warm gust of air against the back of Finnvid’s neck. Then Finnvid felt warm lips pressed to the same spot. An agreement, or an apology? Or just another one of Theos’s beautiful, casual gestures of affection? Finnvid decided it didn’t matter.
They dozed, and then woke and Theos took his medicine and drank some broth with only minor complaints, and then dozed some more.
Just before dusk, Finnvid went out to check the snare Andros had shown him how to set, but it was empty.
He returned to the den, almost running, suddenly sure that in his brief absence something horrible would have happened.
His brother’s men would have arrived, or Theos might have choked on some broth or split a wound open and bled out onto the snow, or his fever might have spiked and his delirium sent him wandering into the forest.
But when he crawled into the den, Theos was there, safe and sound, only a little flushed from the fever.
Finnvid didn’t slow down, didn’t stand up, just kept crawling, right across the blankets to Theos’s side, and he reached out with both hands to grab Theos’s face and pull his warmth against Finnvid’s cold, their stubbled cheeks meeting first, then their lips.
Finnvid was rougher than he should have been.
He needed more than he should. He hungered, craved, seized, and possessed.
He pushed Theos’s unresisting body back until he was lying down, Finnvid with one knee on either side of Theos’s thighs.
It didn’t mean anything to Theos, so why shouldn’t Finnvid take what he wanted?
He groaned into Theos’s open mouth, gasped for air, and joined their mouths again.
It was wondrous, this kissing. Finnvid imagined he could go on forever, licking and biting and teasing and tasting, and he knew that Theos wouldn’t object.
He wouldn’t pull away, and wouldn’t insist on more.
Some of Finnvid’s confidence came because he knew Theos’s state, his physical weakness.
But mostly it came from knowing Theos. When Finnvid had wanted to avoid this type of contact, Theos had gone along with that. He wouldn’t be less respectful now.
So Finnvid took his time, and enjoyed every moment, every taste and touch and sound. When he finally took a break, he had a crick in his neck and he was pretty sure his entire lower leg was asleep, but he smiled down at Theos anyway, and Theos smiled back.
“Not feeling so ‘unnatural’ anymore?” Theos murmured.
“I may have changed my mind on that, a little.”
“Just a little.”
Finnvid shifted his weight, then ran a hand gently over Theos’s blanket-covered chest. “I should check your wounds. Make sure I didn’t pull anything open.”
“You didn’t.”
“Maybe I wasn’t trying hard enough, then.”
Theos grinned. “You’re turning into a true Torian, aren’t you?”
Finnvid frowned and eased himself to the side, but he kept one hand on Theos’s chest. “If I were a true Torian . . . If I’d been born in Windthorn .
. .” He tried to figure it out. “You had a busy childhood. Always running around, playing, and fighting. I didn’t.
I could have, but I didn’t want that. I spent most of my time reading, or staring at trees or bugs or watching people work.
” He’d thought about it before, but now it seemed more important to share his ideas, or at least his questions.
“How would I have fit in, if I’d been born in Windthorn? ”
“It’s not like you couldn’t have been a soldier,” Theos said firmly. “You’re fit enough. You’ve put on some good muscle in the last few months. You could have found a place.”
“But I didn’t want that. It wasn’t just that I was denied the opportunity to be part of the mighty Torian military system; I wasn’t suited to that sort of thing.”
“Well, luckily you weren’t born in Windthorn. I don’t understand why you’d be worrying about this.” Theos frowned. “I also don’t understand why you were staring at trees and bugs all the time. Were they doing something interesting?”
Finnvid squirmed until he was sitting up, a better position from which to emphatically say, “Yes, they were doing interesting things! Things you’ll never know about, things no Torian will know about, because boys in the Empire aren’t allowed to sit quietly and watch things and learn about them!”
Theos stayed on his back, body relaxed. “If there’s something important going on with the bugs, the women will notice, and they’ll tell us about it.”
Finnvid was silent for a while. He half turned and made sure there was melted snow in the little pot over the lamp, then checked the butter in the lamp reservoir, then nodded and looked back at Theos.
“Women have much more freedom in Windthorn. They’re useful, for a variety of things, and they get to choose what they want to be.
If I were a woman, I’d want to be Torian.
If I had a sister or a daughter, I’d want her raised in the Empire.
” It was a huge concession, and Finnvid was relieved when Theos didn’t say anything smug.
He just reached over and squeezed Finnvid’s knee.
But Finnvid wasn’t finished. “If I had a son, though? If I could go back in time and chose for myself, or for any man? I’d want him born in Elkat, or some other valley where men have a choice!
There’s more to the world than war, Theos!
” He saw the Sacrati frown, but it was too late to stop now.
So he said, “Is there even a plan? When the Empire has spread to all corners of the world, as I know you’re sure it will, what then?
If half of the people born are only good as killing machines, won’t they just turn around and start killing each other?
Isn’t that what’s starting to happen already?
Where does it end, Theos? What kind of system is that? ”
Finnvid risked a glance in Theos’s direction then and wished he hadn’t. The Torian was glaring at the ceiling as if he were about to attack it. But the ceiling hadn’t just insulted Theos’s way of life.