12. Lyr

12

LYR

O ver the days leading to the Feast of Surrus, the mood in the kitchens of Sanglora Manor had grown more and more heated. Lyr has never worked so hard. The fish delivery arrives and he is sent out with Mina to unload the cart.

Lyr does as he is bid and follows Mina to the yard. As they struggle back with the heavy crates, Mina makes a joke and by the time they reach the kitchen Lyr is still laughing.

Laughing enough that, for a moment, he doesn't notice Damon standing in the kitchen. He doesn't notice him until Damon takes the crate of silvery fish from his hands and sets it on the table.

"Master," Lyr says, voice a little thin and wobbly.

Behind Lyr, the cook spins around and clips him on the back of the head with a spoon. "Do not speak to the Master," she snaps. Then, to Damon, she says, "Good morning, Master. Would you like to review my menus for this evening? "

Damon glances at her, "No. No, thank you. I will leave that to Inez. She will be here shortly, I am sure."

Something about hearing Damon saying Inez's name makes Lyr's heart throb with a dull pain.

"Can I help you, Master Damon?" This is Kres, who has appeared at the kitchen doorway behind Lyr and Mina.

Damon says, "I wish to speak with the Juran slave." He nods towards Lyr.

Lyr swallows.

Kres steps out of the doorway, "Very well, Master. Lyr, you are excused your duties for as long as Master Damon needs you."

Lyr glances back at Mina before he follows Damon outside. She looks delighted.

They cross the yard and Damon leads Lyr through a gate onto a wide terrace which is being prepared with tables and garlands for the feast. Beyond the terrace is a wooded grove. This is where Damon leads Lyr, unspeaking.

As soon as they get out of earshot of anyone, it's all Lyr can do not to blurt out, Why have you been ignoring me? What did I do wrong?

But he holds his tongue.

They walk between the trees, different trees this time than the neatly kept ones of the orchard. The trees in this grove are old. "This feels like an ancient place," Lyr says softly.

"It's the original grove of the manor. From long ago. When it was built, during the reign of the Hevelikar. Every fine house would have one. Although, truly they are a remnant of an even older time. Before Artemia. Old heathen faiths. But now, many fine houses in Azuria keep a grove for the Feast of Surrus. "

"Surrus is one of the Sidu of Artemia," Lyr says, "but she is also one of the prophets of Zai."

"That's right," says Damon. "You have been learning. The twelve holy days of Artemia are also observed by Zai. As the Sidusia are the prophets that predicted Zai's coming."

"Did they?"

Damon smiles. "So they say."

"Perhaps the people of Azuria did not want to give up the twelve feasts."

"It would be hard to persuade people to give up twelve feast days. And they honour the prophets. But this is all I know. I am a soldier, not a learned man."

"You are not? Are you sure? You recite Magaar poetry because you were educated as a Prince of Azuria."

Damon shakes his head. "Be sure, Lyr, I am no prince." He says it so seriously Lyr wants to laugh.

"The Azurians say they are not followers of Artemia these two hundred years, but you all still speak Artemian."

"We have to communicate somehow. Sarelik could hardly outlaw a language, although I am sure he wished it. I know that on Pluma-Ferris they have been struggling for years to stop people speaking Plumian."

Lyr shrugs. "I think I heard people speaking Plumian when I went to the market. I was sent to order the fish for tonight."

Damon smiles. "Did you enjoy it? The market?"

"It was interesting. Attar is very big. And very busy. I saw Atticul."

"Atticul? In the market?"

"He had one of his men approach me. He took me to his carriage."

Damon's voice is stiff with repressed anger. "What did he say to you? "

"He wanted me to betray you. Tell him you were fucking me."

"What did you say?"

"I told him the truth." Lyr can't keep the bitterness out of his voice as he says, "I told him I worked in the kitchens and you never looked at me."

Damon stops walking and turns to face Lyr. Sunlight through the trees makes patterns on his solemn face. "Lyr, I am sorry. I had thought it best to try and stay away from you. It was the only way I could stand not to touch you."

"I thought I had done something wrong."

Damon looks genuinely hurt. "No, Lyr, no. You did nothing wrong. Far from it. The only person who did anything wrong is me. I have a wife. My desires shame Inez. What happened in the orchard was folly. If it had been anyone other than her."

"It is better that it was Inez?"

"Only because she has almost as much to lose as I, if my sins were to be discovered."

"What would she lose, if it were discovered that you were sly?"

Damon's voice sounds rough. "The rumours about me already cause her shame. But if I were to be arrested and charged with sins of the body, I could be exiled and all my possessions taken. Our marriage would be dissolved. The scandal could mean she might not find another match."

"Do you love Inez?" Lyr says as bluntly as he dares.

"She is my wife. I owe her my protection," Damon says in his own blunt tones. He takes a breath. "But life is not so simple. The news I brought a sly whore back from Pellex has reached Selim's ears. He has demanded I give you up so I am not stained by the fact."

"Oh," says Lyr. "Atticul told me he would do that. Go to Selim and tell him about me. He said he was going to insist I was killed."

"Selim did ask me to give you over to him."

"You are to give me over to Selim? What would that mean?"

"I imagine the Enforcers of Zai would execute you."

"Is that why you have brought me out to this grove? Is it to wish me farewell?"

To fuck me farewell?

Could that really be all Damon wants of him? To fuck him and then hand him over to his death? Lyr has always known Azuria would be full of dangers for him. Dangers that could mean death. Jareleezi had told him so.

But if he is to die, to be handed over to death, he hopes he is right. He hopes that before that happens, Damon takes him deep into the grove and makes love to him. He knows he is foolish to hold such a wish to his heart. Nevertheless he does. He aches for Damon like no feeling he has ever known.

"No. I will never allow that to happen," says Damon. "I have revealed a secret about you to Selim. I had to do it to protect you. I told him you were Jareleezi's slave. They are desperate to find her. The campaign into Ik-Sundal was only ever to capture her. When Selim believed Jareleezi was in Ik-Sundal, he made me another offer. The battle has not gone well there. The Sundals are vicious. Far more vicious than the Jurans."

"And they don't have you," Lyr says softly.

"No. They don't. And Selim knows this too. He offered to make me Warden of Vashti in return for rejoining the army and conquering the desert. But I told him that I knew from you that Jareleezi would not be found in Ik-Sundal. Of course, when I told him that he said that I ought to hand you over anyway, so you could be interrogated for what you knew. But I said that you trusted me. I intimated that you were my lover. He accepted it. He has allowed me to keep you as I am best placed to find out all you know."

"All I know about Jareleezi?" Lyr says, voice shaky.

"Yes. I can protect you this way. They are very keen to locate something she has, the Books of Alios. If you know where Jareleezi has taken them, I could use this information to secure our future."

"Secure it how?"

"Selim made me a second offer. He will make me Warden of Vashti in return for information about Jareleezi. Vashti is a country in the west and part of the empire. If I were sent there, I could take you and perhaps we would be far enough away from Attar and the rule of Zai that we could…," Damon stops walking suddenly. He takes hold of both Lyr's hands. His touch makes Lyr gasp. Damon's expression is strange. "Lyr, I cannot live my whole life resisting you, I have tried it for half a moon and it is killing my soul. Selim told me that if I could give him information that led him to Jareleezi and the treasures she has in her possession, he will give me Vashti and my heart's desire. He knows what my heart's desire is. He knows what I will ask for. You. I will take you to Vashti and be safe from Zai's laws."

Lyr can hardly speak. His breath seems to stall in his body. "Truly? Selim would grant such a thing?"

"I believe for those books he will do anything."

"And we must give Emperor Selim information about where Jareleezi has gone?"

This grove is much darker than the orchard, the trees are far more closely packed. The air is cool and scented with dampness. It feels eerie to be here, with Damon. With Damon telling him he has been trying to find a way for them to be together.

But there is one problem with Damon's plans, he needs information about Jareleezi that Lyr cannot give him. "You need me to tell you where she is? I do not know."

Damon looks at Lyr shrewdly. "You were with her for seven years. You may know more than you think. Tell me everything about her. We will find something." Damon gestures to a mossy spot at the base of a large oak tree. "Sit down here."

Lyr looks down. "Sit with you? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Lyr, do not worry, I have been instructed to do this by the Emperor himself." Damon is smiling.

Lyr sits down under the tree and leans back against the bark. He feels that warm feeling he gets when the runes on his chest glow. Damon sits down next to him. A short distance away. Their bodies do not touch. Damon says, "Let us begin when you met her. How did you come to Jur-Mattan from Klish?"

Lyr shrugs. "Envoys came. Royal envoys from Ramel's court. They chose me from the market."

"On Klish? You were sold at a slave market?"

"Yes. My parents had so many children. My father died. My mother had no choice. She sold me to a slave trader because I was the smallest boy, the weakest. I was worth the least money, the trader said. But she wanted my brothers to work on the farm. The trader said a small male like me could only be sold for pleasure. He took me to the pillow market."

"And they bought you. The envoys?"

"Yes. The trader said I was lucky. I was exactly what they were looking for. They paid a lot for me, he said, and he was happy."

"What did she do with you?" he says. "Jareleezi? "

"She used me for rituals. Scrying. She used Arcaneum cards at first. They told her the future. What they told her often came true. Then the cards told her of other rituals. New ways to see what will come. She used my body. The marks you have seen. She cut some of them and burned others. And some of them were sent by her Gods. She had a great plan. Through her magic, she knew you were coming. She knew everything. Damon, she knew. She had such powers. That's how she escaped. She knew to run."

"Did she speak to you of the Books of Alios?"

"She had many books."

"Why did she place you in the harem?"

Lyr takes a breath. He chooses his words carefully. "She always liked to put me with the whores. I think it amused her to think of me as one of them."

"I am wondering if perhaps she meant for you to be mistaken for a whore and killed. Because you knew her secrets."

Lyr swallows. "If Jareleezi were found by Azuria, do you think she would be brought back here? To Attar?"

"She would probably be executed. They want those books, not her."

"But she would not be allowed to take me back?" Lyr says, shakily.

"Lyr," Damon says, "You are mine. If Jareleezi was brought back to Azuria, she would not be allowed to have you returned to her."

"What if she made a bargain? The Books of Alios for me?"

"I would not allow it. You are my property."

Damon's words are so sure. Lyr doesn't doubt Damon would fight for him. It makes his stomach flip with pleasure. Damon turns his head and looks into Lyr's eyes. Lyr looks back. Damon's eyes are pretty. Green with flecks of silver. They are a strange contrast to the rest of him. Every other part of Damon is big and heavy, and though beautiful to Lyr, could never be called pretty.

"Yes," Lyr breathes. Damon looks down. He says nothing more. They sit together for some time, listening to the birds. Eventually, Damon says, "We need more. We will find it."

"I don't think we will," Lyr says, "What more can I tell you?"

"There will be something," Damon says.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because," Damon's voice drops low. He looks down at his knees. "Because how will I live otherwise? If I do not find a way to have you?"

Lyr feels a prickle in his throat. He can't help himself. He grasps Damon's hand. "All this time," he says in a whisper. "This past half moon since you fled the orchard after your wife. I thought you had decided to forget about me. I was so sure it was over."

"I thought it was," Damon says. "I hoped. But I couldn't forget about you for a moment. I…" he pauses. Lyr fancies he can see a little colour pink his cheeks. "I think about you all the time. I think about you at night, in my bed, when I spend."

"Oh," Lyr says as this statement shoots through him, a bolt of arousal. The thought of Damon, giving himself pleasure, lying in his bed, crying out, thinking of him. "So you do still want me?" Lyr says in a shaky voice.

"Lyr," Damon says in a voice so low and deep it sounds like the snarl of a wolf, "I cannot think of anything but you. I cannot bed my wife. I have not been to her bed since I arrived home."

"I heard," Lyr says, adding, "there is gossip about it."

"I am sure there is. "

"They say you are saving your seed for tonight when you will cover her here in the coupling grove."

"Ah yes," Damon seems awkward at the suggestion. "Yes, that is what is expected of me. Lyr, I…"

"Damon?" Lyr is still holding Damon's hand in his lap. Damon stares at Lyr for a moment and then Lyr gasps when Damon moves, swinging one big thigh over Lyr's body to straddle him.

Lyr's breath catches as he looks up into Damon's face. His back is against the tree. Damon's heavy body is on top of him. He is pinned in place. "Master," he says quietly. Then again, more breathy, soaked with desire, " Master. We should not."

"You do not give me orders, slave," Damon replies in a tone that makes Lyr hard against Damon's thighs. Damon lifts an eyebrow, "Do you?"

"No, Master," Lyr says, writhing under Damon's body.

"No." And Damon leans in and kisses him.

It's not a long kiss, not as passionate as others they have shared. Damon breaks it quickly, leaving Lyr panting. "Tonight, when you see me covering my wife in this grove, I will be thinking of you, only you, when I spend."

"Master," Lyr breathes.

Damon leans back. He's still on top of Lyr. He looks at him, and, after a long pause, he says, "Ah, but even with you in my thoughts, I will not enjoy tonight. Lying with Inez is my duty. I must do it. Sooner or later. Why not tonight?" Damon swallows. "But everyone present must couple for the glory of Zai. Someone will lie with you."

"Me?"

"Everyone will couple. Including servants, including slaves. It is the way of it."

"I do not think I would like that. "

Damon nods. "Because of Jareleezi? Because of what she made you do?"

"Maybe a little, but mostly I think I would not like to lie with someone who wasn't you."

"You do not fear that I would hurt you or treat you cruelly like Jareleezi?"

Lyr shakes his head. He thinks that he would not hate it if Damon did hurt him, just a little, made him feel his passion with teeth and nails. He reaches up and puts a hand on Damon's cheek. It's prickly under his palm. "Not like her. You could not be more different from her. You are not a violent man. I can tell."

This makes Damon laugh a strange laugh of disbelief. "Lyr, truly… Lyr, I am a violent man. I am soaked in blood. I own you because of violent acts. I have killed many."

But Lyr shakes his head. Of this he is certain. "You were made a violent man. But it is not your heart. You became a great warrior because you did not wish to die in your own blood and shit."

"Lyr."

"Master."

Damon leans in and kisses Lyr again, for longer this time, and this time, Lyr can feel all of Damon's desire, can taste it on his tongue. But Damon still breaks the kiss with Lyr panting for more.

"There can be no more than that. Not now," says Damon, resting his forehead against Lyr's, "But know this. We will find out where Jareleezi has gone. I will take you to Vashti. I will commit every sin of the body with you."

Back in the kitchen, there is bustle everywhere. Kres chastises Lyr for vanishing in the middle of such a busy morning, but the cook sticks up for him, saying, "No, have you forgotten? Master Damon wanted to speak with him."

Mina is a ball of excited energy. In a reasonably quiet voice, she says, "Did he take you?"

Lyr blushes and shakes his head.

Mina then says that, at the feast, Lyr should make sure he sits near her. "It will be wild. The Feast of Surrus is my favourite of the year. I'm so glad we're marking it here. I love Surrus. She's my favourite Sidu."

They work hard late into the afternoon, creating more and more elaborate dishes for the feast. The cook gets stressed and snappy and easy with smacks from her wooden spoon as the table grows laden with songbird pies and piles of honeyed gooseberries, spice cakes and mutton and barley stew and nuts and fruits and roots with butter.

The fish Lyr collected is an elaborate centrepiece. The sturgeon baked with almonds and green leaves, the salmon poached in butter and the lampreys baked into an enormous pie.

All through the afternoon as Lyr fetches and carries and works and cleans, he thinks of the kiss Damon pressed to his lips, the wild sweet taste of yearning behind it and of Damon spending, thinking of him.