Chapter Thirty-One #2
“Me? There are many Sacrati more qualified. I’m not even an iyatis anymore.”
“There may be Sacrati more qualified. There certainly are some who are iyatis. But none of them are here, Theos.” She shook her head, quickly forestalling his objection.
“I don’t mean you should take the job because you’re convenient.
I mean none of them care enough to take a chance.
None of them came here and tried to find a solution. ”
Theos looked at Finnvid and the confusion on his face made Finnvid want to find a blanket and a den and snuggle Theos and keep him safe forever. But it was too late for that.
“Five breaths ago she was telling me how worthless I am,” Theos said, as if his mother couldn’t hear him. “Now she wants me to take charge of the entire military. Are you following this?”
“Not really,” Finnvid admitted. He turned to the reeve. “Have you changed your mind about him?”
“Changed my mind? I said Theos would shape his sons to see the world the way he does. I still believe that, and I still don’t like the way he sees it.
” She frowned. “I admit, I may not see him any more clearly than I think he sees the world. I need to think about what you said. But, as he said, this isn’t about that.
We’re not looking for a philosopher, or even a long-term leader.
We just need someone the men trust, and someone they’ll follow.
Someone brave or stupid enough to stand up against a would-be tyrant who’s shown himself willing to kill those who stand against him. ”
A quiet, mocking smile, then she added, “We need the sort of man who could bring someone to Windthorn as a prisoner, send him away as an enemy, and somehow return with him as a loyal ally. We need someone who could convince someone to follow him into danger and take his side, no matter what.” She glanced down at Finnvid’s wrist, at the bracelet, and said, “I gave him that when he left home and went to the barracks. And now I see it on your wrist, and I see you touching it when you want comfort.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Tell me, Finnvid of the Elkati—can you think of anyone better able to do what needs to be done? Anyone more likely to turn hostility into . . . something better?”
Finnvid felt his face flush, but didn’t let it bother him.
He hadn’t known his affection was so obvious, but there were more important things to worry about than his pride.
“I can’t, no. I think he’s someone worth following.
I just want to make sure you won’t agree now, and then lose faith halfway through whatever comes and abandon him. He needs to know who he can count on.”
She looked at him for longer than seemed necessary, then over at her son. “You’ve surprised me, Theos,” she said softly.
He shrugged. “We need to speak to the men. The city’s the safest place to do it. Will you invite them in?”
She nodded, slowly. “Yes. Tomorrow. We can send messengers to the training yards, midmorning, and have the men come here directly. Will that give you enough time to get ready?”
“Ready?” he asked blankly.
She snorted. “You need to give some thought to what you’ll say, and how you’ll say it.
And more practically . . . you look like a bear, and smell like what a bear leaves behind.
The men may not want you to look pampered, but they’ll at least want to believe that following you won’t mean a life of depravation and filth.
” She turned up her nose. “Go to the temple baths. They’ll be deserted at this time of night.
And I’ll have someone bring you clothes from the garment makers. What else do you need?”
“I need to talk to Xeno. As soon as possible. Could you send a messenger for him?”
“And new boots,” Finnvid interjected. The Xeno conversation was probably important, but so were Finnvid’s feet.
“Ours are wet and worn. And maybe some ointment for our skin? And food.” He realized he was making a lot of demands, yet the reeve just nodded as if she was pleased there was someone able to look after the practicalities.
So Finnvid thought a little harder. What else would Theos need?
He was about to give an important speech, and he wasn’t much for words.
“Will there be writing tools at the temple? Something we can use to put down key points?”
“There should be,” the reeve said calmly, “but I’m not sure where. I’ll put a package together and send it over with the other things.”
“Thank you,” Theos said, and he started for the door.
Finnvid was half-turned to follow him when the reeve said, “Wait.”
So Theos eased back around, but not all the way. Enough so he was looking at Finnvid, not at his mother. And he waited.
“You’re a good Torian, Theos.” She stepped a little closer.
“A good Sacrati. If I— No. When I am critical of you, it’s not you I’m talking about.
Does that make sense? I wanted more for my son.
More choices, more freedom. I fought for it, and I lost, and it was—it was very difficult for me.
So to see you excel in the narrow path they offered to you, to see you become the epitome of what they wanted you to be .
. .” She stopped talking for a while, then shook her head.
Finnvid saw nothing on Theos’s face to suggest that her words were making any impression on him, or that there was any point in continuing.
Still, she went on, “I’m proud of you. You’re strong and brave.
” She smiled at Finnvid, then added, “And smart. And apparently you can be merciful and compassionate and respectful. You’re a good man, Theos.
I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel that I don’t see that. ”
He nodded, then said, “Can you ask the messengers to send Xeno to the temple baths? We can talk to him there.”
“I will,” she agreed quietly.
Finnvid followed Theos out of the office and then out of the building, back into the cool night air.
It was well below freezing, but after their time in the mountains, neither of them even bothered to refasten their cloaks for the short walk to the temple.
“Mothers are difficult,” Finnvid said tentatively as they strode through the darkened streets.
Theos frowned at him. “Preventing civil wars is difficult,” he corrected. “Mothers are just . . . mothers.”
Well, then. That was taken care of. So Finnvid tried to shift his mind in a more productive direction. “Do you know what you’re going to say to the men? And what will you ask them to do? Assuming they believe our story and want to follow you . . . what’s next?”
“No idea,” Theos said almost cheerfully.
“Oh. Do you think you should figure something out?”
“Probably.” Then Theos stopped walking, and Finnvid felt strong fingers wrap around his, and suddenly he was being tugged, shoved, manhandled in Theos’s unique manner that somehow made Finnvid feel as if his body was at fault for not having been in the desired position to begin with.
Finnvid ended up with his back against the wall of the building they were passing, Theos’s thigh pushed between his as if it belonged there.
And then Theos’s lips, hungry and demanding, were on Finnvid’s.
Their kiss was deep and hard; Finnvid drove his head forward, making his own demands, and Theos met them without question.
Their hands groped through layers of fabric and found the familiar points of entrance: Theos sliding his hand up the sleeve of Finnvid’s tunic to grasp his forearm, Finnvid reaching down the neck of Theos’s shirt to find the bare skin at the top of his back.
And all of it was just a little more desperate than usual, as if they were both aware it might be their last time together.
Or maybe Theos was just getting rid of some frustration after the meeting.
Finnvid didn’t really care what was motivating Theos right then; he was too busy responding to the onslaught.
Theos rutted against him; Finnvid pushed back, maybe with less coordination but with just as much enthusiasm.
It was primal and real, and Finnvid’s whole body sang with energy and need.
And as they drove each other toward their climax, their clothes no real challenge in the face of their desire, they worked together, fought together, and won together, both of them arching and groaning and them slumping over the other, the wall at Finnvid’s back the only solid thing in their suddenly molten world.
Theos was the first to straighten, but he didn’t pull away.
His kisses were gentle now, even tender, and when he leaned back, his smile was affectionate and teasing.
“Where has my prudish little bedwarmer gone?” He asked, and gave Finnvid another kiss.
“The boy who turned his head every time I took off my shirt?”
“I was trying to keep from getting hard,” Finnvid admitted sheepishly, and Theos rewarded his honestly with a kiss. “I worried that once I started staring, I wouldn’t be able to stop.”
“You never need to.”
“I might,” Finnvid said, and he shoved Theos back and turned to start walking, ignoring the damp fabric against his skin.
Theos caught up to him in a few strides, and Finnvid said, “If things don’t go well .
. . if you have this meeting and the men don’t follow you, the warlord will have you killed.
” Finnvid glanced over to see Theos beginning to speak, but shook his head.
“Don’t say you’re not afraid to die. This isn’t about you, it’s about me.
I don’t want you to die! Even if I can get away, somehow, which I doubt will happen, it won’t matter.
I’ll still be . . .” He shook his head, surprised but not embarrassed by the tears gathering in his eyes.
“I might as well be dead,” he whispered.