Chapter Seventeen
T he sun barely peeked over the valley, distant clouds gathering as Jem made his way along the familiar path to the aviary, his mind racing.
He hadn’t even tried to sleep. Though it had been the middle of the night and they weren’t alone, he should have demanded the truth from his mother.
How did she already know about the sevels?
Yet he hadn’t because some terrible instinct hissed that he wouldn’t like the answer.
He needed a chance to regroup before confronting her. The fact that he expected it would be a confrontation and not a mere discussion had acid simmering in his belly. He hated this. He hated politics and lies and feasts and sermons.
Before, he’d have been utterly carefree skipping down to the aviary in the early dawn. What had he had to worry about? Some prank from his brothers? How simple life had been.
If she knew about the disease and the sevels, why hadn’t she said a word about it when she heard Hedrok was badly ill?
His stomach burbled. Perhaps Kenver had told her after all. It was possible, wasn’t it? Cador’s tas had been here for months. They might have grown close. He might have confided in her about the sevels. Though why hadn’t she mentioned it to Jem and Cador?
What of the kidnapping plot? Surely the chieftain wouldn’t have breathed a word of Ergh’s desperate need for sevels unless he’d changed his mind about using Jem for leverage.
He scratched at his scalp, gulping in the warm, dewy morning air, breathing through the memories. Stumbling on a root, he stopped beneath a low-hanging kalx tree, leaning against the smooth trunk until he could focus again.
If Cador’s tas had changed his mind, the kidnapping plot would need to be scuttled. They’d have sent an envoy to Ergh to call it off. Maybe they had? Everyone seemed to be getting hopelessly lost these days. Locryn should be back any minute with Jory and the chieftain.
Could Jem’s mother think she was protecting him from the painful truth of the kidnapping plot? It seemed reasonable. Didn’t it? She would protect him at all costs, and if she knew the truth about Ergh’s desperate need for sevels, she had good reason.
She had to. For weeks and weeks he’d comforted himself with the belief that she would set everything right.
His certainty wavered, and he wished he could cast a magic spell like the sorcerer cousin Morvoren visited in her third book.
He’d thought returning home would make everything clear, yet it was only murkier than ever.
It took a moment as he approached the aviary to realize someone was inside.
His heart shouldn’t have leapt joyfully upon recognizing Cador’s bulk bent over the hatchling, but it did all the same.
Especially when he realized Cador’s fingers were muddy and he was chewing worms to feed Doryty just as he had Derwa.
There shouldn’t have been anything attractive about the messy, dirty task, yet desire flitted through Jem. He flushed with memories of what they’d shared only hours ago. Though he’d cleaned himself properly upon returning to his chamber, his rear still twinged, excitement tightening his gut.
Worst of all, a wave of tenderness and affection washed through Jem as he watched Cador murmur to the tiny bird. He crept closer, straining to hear.
When Cador was alerted by the rustle of leaves under Jem’s boots, he shot to his feet, fingers grasping for an invisible spear. “Why aren’t you asleep?” he asked too loudly, clearly startled.
He wore the Neuvellan clothing, fawn breeches painted on his muscular thighs over tall boots, a blue silk shirt tight across his broad chest. Funny that Jem should prefer him in his plain Erghian garb.
Jem’s spine stiffened as he grasped for the safety of irritation.
“Why aren’t you? Who said you could come here?
And were you reading my book?” He pointed accusingly at the worn copy of Morvoren’s first book of adventures, though he was the one who’d left it tucked in a little nook created specially for a tome or two to be kept.
Cador leaned out the aviary door and spit a bit of worm onto the grass.
He gargled with his flask and spit a few more times before drinking.
He bent to close the book and carefully slid it back into the nook.
Then he said in a calmer tone, “Couldn’t sleep.
Santo told me yesterday which path to take here. ”
Naturally. Jem’s instant defensiveness dissipated. “I couldn’t sleep either. How is Hedrok?”
“Dying. But your healer drugged him enough to finally put him under. Creeda is with him. I couldn’t take any more of her praying.”
Jem shuddered, thinking of the bundle of twigs and the sack over his head. “I’m glad he is resting for the moment.”
“We must speak with your mother today about the sevels. Tas’s plan, what Bryok did—all of it. There’s no time to wait for Tas to return.” Cador grumbled under his breath. “Why did he have to go looking for us?”
“Agreed, and it’s extremely inconvenient. Though if we leave after him, we’ll all be going in circles around Neuvella for gods know how long. King Perran might be on his way as well. At least the fires seem at bay here.”
Cador peered up at a bank of clouds in the distance. “Might even have rain coming.”
Jem followed his gaze. “It would be welcome, I’m sure. Let’s hope rain is providing relief to the north.”
Doryty squawked, and they smiled down at her. Jem crouched to examine her as Cador asked, “Are all dillywigs so delicate? Even when Derwa was tiny she had a sturdier shape.”
“They are, but don’t be hoodwinked.” He tenderly stroked a finger over her back. “If they survive their early days, they have great speed and intelligence to outwit predators that underestimate them.”
“I’ve certainly learned that strength and power can come in small packages.”
When Jem lifted his head, he found Cador stood right beside him.
Heat flashed between them, and his body again remembered their recent coupling, his hole squeezing eagerly with a will of its own.
With Cador looming above him, how easy it would be to tear at his breeches and suck him before either of them could think twice.
Ever so lightly, Cador brushed his fingertips over Jem’s hair. Jem’s scalp still tingled from his earlier scratching, and he jerked away, toppling onto his backside. Cador clenched his hand into a fist, his shoulders sagging.
“I’ll leave you in peace,” he muttered.
Jem wanted to tell him to stay for many reasons. He should at least confess the truth about his mother. Though what was that truth? He had no idea. Was he accusing her? Surely not. He trusted her completely. The chieftain must have informed her about the disease’s link to the sevels.
As Jem ruminated, Cador seemed to hesitate before slowly walking away and disappearing into the forest. Had his shoulders slumped or was that wishful thinking? Should he wish Cador to be sad or disappointed?
His mind spun uselessly. He didn’t know what to believe. Gods, he didn’t want to think . He should return to the comfort of his chamber and sleep, or lose himself in his precious books, just for a few hours.
Yet he couldn’t, not with Hedrok dying and Ergh’s future on the line. How did his mother and Tregereth know about the sevels, and where was the chieftain, and would King Perran attack, and what of Treeve, and were the fires still raging?
And, and, and.
Digging his nails into his scalp, he wanted to scream. Instead, Jem stumbled from the aviary without bidding goodbye to Doryty. He realized a few minutes later and almost returned, guilt tugging at him even though she was a hatchling. She’d been fed and was well and couldn’t understand his words.
Because his luck had run out months ago, he encountered Cador in a clearing on the path back to the castle, the spot dim with the growing clouds and thick foliage arching to meet overhead. Cador must have heard him coming and seemed to be waiting.
“You are my greatest pleasure.”
Jem glanced behind him, then gaped at Cador. “What?” It was as though he’d entered in the middle of a conversation. He scoffed even as his heart swelled at the earnest expression on Cador’s stubbly face. “I’m sure you’ve had many lovers more skilled,” Jem said.
“I don’t mean lying with you. That’s only part of it.”
He hesitated, traitorous heart thumping. Waiting.
“Baking bread with you. Listening to your favorite tales from your books. Watching you tend to your hatchlings. Laughing with you.”
It had seemed so long since they’d laughed. “About what?”
“I don’t know.” Cador lifted his hands and let them drop. “Nothing. Everything. I long to see your smile.” His gaze dropped down over Jem’s body. “I long to taste you. Kiss every part of you and bring you pleasure.”
Groin tightening, Jem grasped for a defense. “You just said it wasn’t about lying with me.”
“I said it was part of it. Of course I want to lie with you. I know you want me too. There is no sin in craving it. Admit that much, at least.”
Jem couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He shook his head.
Cador’s jaw tightened as he sighed. He raised his hands. “All right.”
“We must get some rest. There is much to…” Jem left the rest unsaid since he wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it.
Cador nodded and turned toward the path that disappeared into the green foliage. After a few steps, he stopped, back still to Jem. “If I were a marauder in these woods… If I were a villain who stumbled upon you and had to have you. Well, it would be beyond your control.”
The breath punched out of Jem, lust and relief, tremors seizing him. For if it were again a game, if they were not themselves… His exhale was a soft moan.
Turning slowly, Cador’s lips parted, his icy eyes going dark with lust. “On your knees, boy.”
As Jem dropped to the earth gratefully, of course he knew he shouldn’t. But he couldn’t sleep, could hardly eat—with everything that was happening, he was strung so tightly with worry that he would shatter without some kind of release.