Tears of Gold

Published by Mojocastle Press, LLC Price, Utah This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Tears of Gold ISBN: 1-60180-021-5 Copyright © 2007 Dana Erikson Cover Art Copyright @ 2007 Mojocastle Press All rights reserved.

Excluding legitimate review sites and review publications, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Copying, scanning, uploading, selling and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without permission from the publisher is illegal, punishable by law and will be prosecuted. Available online at: http://www.mojocastle.com/

Tears of Gold

Dana Erikson

Prologue studied the man before him with a critical Andrus eye. He was young, supple but well-muscled. He

was already a good addition to the quarry slaves. Andrus had seen him, working, sweating, building up muscles that even now stood like cords on his forearms. They fascinated Andrus, and he had spent many minutes silently, stealthily watching the young man work. He should have left him there with the other slaves to spend his life digging the precious gems from the earth. The gems that made Andrus a wealthy and respected man, paid for the finery around him, and brought him anything and everything he wanted or desired. Desire. Now there was a strange word, Andrus thought. A word that brought his heart rate up, that sent chills through him, that had brought this young man before him now. “Take off your clothes,” he said coolly. The young man was startled by the words, his tanned face crinkling into a frown. “Do as I say!” Andrus snapped. He must not let this man doubt just who was the master here and who was the slave. The man swallowed hard, and slowly removed first shirt, then breeches. He shivered in the cold air 1

Tears of Gold

wafting through the open window. Andrus let his gaze wander over the man’s shape. Nice, very nice. The muscled shoulders, the taut belly, well-defined thighs and calves. And he was well-hung, as was the saying. Andrus could already feel his own erection forming, pulling the fabric of his robes tight. The young man was flaccid, obviously not sharing Andrus’ arousal, but that didn’t bother Andrus. He didn’t much care what others wanted, only what he wanted. “Turn around,” he ordered. The man obeyed hesitantly, his hands balling into fists. Andrus wasn’t concerned about that, either. The young man would be stupid to try to attack him with three guards standing nearby. He studied the man’s buttocks. They were firm; even now, the muscles moving as he shifted his weight in trepidation. Andrus grew even harder as he thought about slipping himself between those cheeks, feeling them tighten around him, holding him, supporting him...he shook his head, swallowing the small groan of anticipation that threatened to escape. He walked closer to the young man, his mouth near the man’s ear, his chest pressed against the young’s man’s back. “Your name?” he breathed. “Ambrose,” the young man answered, his voice barely audible. “Ambrose,” Andrus repeated. “How alike our names are, eh?” “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know your name,” Ambrose said. 2

Dana Erikson

Andrus chuckled. “Don’t you? Who is the master of this estate? The master of the slaves? The master of you?” He heard Ambrose suck in a gasp of recognition, and laughed again. “So, then, you know who your master is, Ambrose?” He reached up and ran one finger along the man’s cheek, his own body shuddering as Ambrose’s did. “Answer me.” “Yes, M’Lord,” Ambrose managed. “I know who you are.” Andrus moved his hand, driving his fingers into Ambrose’s golden hair, twisting it tightly against his head, pulling his head back so he could see the young man’s face. The wince of pain that crossed it satisfied him. “That isn’t what I asked, Ambrose. I asked you if you knew who your master was.” “Yes,” Ambrose rasped. Andrus twisted the hair tighter. “Speak it, then!” “You...you are, Lord Andrus.” “And you will do...” Andrus prompted, yanking his hair with each word. “I will do as you order,” Ambrose finished, wincing again. Andrus held the tightness of his grip a moment longer, then released it. Ambrose sighed out his relief. But, though Ambrose had experienced only pain, the whole episode had furthered Andrus’ arousal. He pushed against Ambrose, nothing between him and his arousal but a thin robe of silk. He stroked Ambrose’s neck, ran his hands across the young man’s shoulders, then placed one hand on each, 3

Tears of Gold

turning him to face him. For a moment, he stared into the clear blue eyes—eyes holding uncertainty and fear. It was an aphrodisiac to Andrus, and he drew a ragged breath. “On your knees,” he murmured, pushing on Ambrose’s shoulders until the young man knelt before him. He could scarcely contain himself as he pulled the robe aside, allowing his swollen penis freedom. Already the head was wet with his desire and lust. He grabbed up Ambrose’s hand and spat into it, then smiled. “Pleasure me.”

4

Dana Erikson

Chapter One

M

errick reined in his horse at the top of the steep rise. He lifted his lithe frame from the saddle, standing in the stirrups, more to ease the numbness of his buttocks than to gain more height. He was already an imposing figure, standing well over six feet. His gaze scanned the village nestled in the valley below. Orma. His village. His birthplace. His home. From the looks of it, nothing much had changed in the seven years since he’d left at the age of eighteen. Perhaps the sod houses numbered a few more and the sheep herds seemed a bit thicker, but for the most part, Orma was forever stuck in time. The Orma River sparkled along the left, while sheep grazed contentedly in the vast grasslands to the right. The meandering dirt streets were deserted, and Merrick saw no evidence of human life in the meadows or at the river docks. But that was expected. Merrick knew that at this time of the morning most of the herders were barely awake, probably at breakfast, readying for a day of work. His own stomach growled in anticipation of the meal he was sure to find, even though his mother and father didn’t know of his imminent arrival. His mother was like that, always able to produce a hearty meal at a moment’s notice. A smile crossed Merrick’s face and he twisted 5

Tears of Gold

in the saddle to glance at the cemetery sprawled on the hillside near the west side of town. His father’s work, his mother’s handiwork. It was surely the neatest, most well-kept of any cemetery Merrick had ever seen and in the past seven years, he had seen many. He straightened with a sigh, and his gaze drifted almost unbidden to a small, squat sod home at the farthest rim of the village. No smoke curled from the chimney, nor were the usually present goats in their pen. A chord of unease ran through Merrick, and a frown creased his tanned, unshaven face. He had never seen the home without the goats in attendance. In fact, it looked as if no one had been around the dwelling for quite some time. Weeds grew almost to the wooden windowsills, where shutters hung limp and dusty. The usually tidy vegetable garden was overgrown, no signs of bright green tops or evidence of harvest. The feeling of unease began to drift toward dread, and Merrick kneed his horse into a careful sidestep down the brushy slope. He was looking forward to a rest, a bath and some bitter Orma ale to wash the grit from his mouth. But first he had his parents to visit, and then… He was almost to the edge of the village when he was spotted. A dark-haired young boy, no more than three or four, well-tanned, dressed only in short breeches, stopped in his tracks in the dusty street. He squinted 6

Dana Erikson

up at Merrick, one eye almost closed against the glare of the early morning sun off Merrick’s sword hilt. “Who you?” he asked bluntly. Merrick smiled. “Who you?” he countered. The little boy narrowed his other eye as if unsure whether or not to respond. Finally he shrugged his small, bare shoulders. “Adowe,” he replied, then repeated, “Who you?” “Merrick.” He swung down from his horse. The little boy started, stumbling backward as if he thought Merrick might take a swing at him. “You a sojur?” Merrick chuckled, hunkering down in front of the boy. “No, not really. Not yet. But I’m working on it. How about you? You going to be a soldier when you grow up?” The little boy wrinkled his nose. “No. I don’t like hurting people. You stick people?” Merrick’s smile froze on his face. Memories of battles waged flashed through his mind like painful whips. But before he could dwell on them, a young woman emerged from the nearest home, shielding her eyes against the sun. “Adowe! Come away!” she cried, gesturing. She hurried forward and snatched the child away from Merrick. He straightened, frowning. “Mielle?” She caught her breath, staring up at him. “Merrick?” Her hand went to her mouth and her dark gaze darted about the deserted streets. “By the gods! 7

Tears of Gold

What are you doing here?” “I live here,” he said slowly, surprised by her reaction. “I was just going to—” “No!” she interrupted. She clutched his arm, panic showing on her thin, sun-browned face. “You can’t go home. Hurry! Inside! Now!” Her hasty commands left no argument, and Merrick allowed her to drag him toward the small house. His horse followed obediently. Mielle stopped at the open door and called to someone inside. “Tarad! I need your help. Hurry!” A young man, as dark in hair and skin as Mielle, appeared at once, still chewing a bite of his breakfast. He took one look at Merrick and nearly choked on his food. “By the gods, Merrick!” he managed when he could talk. He grabbed Merrick by the arm and nearly dragged him into the home. Then after a quick glance up and down the streets, he shut and bolted the door. “What in the gods’ name are you doing here?” Merrick’s frown deepened. “What’s going on? I merely came for a visit and you’re both acting like I’m some sought-after criminal.” The two exchanged quick glances before Tarad spoke. “I’ll hide your horse. Mielle, fetch him something to eat. And keep him away from the windows.” She took hold of Tarad’s arm, her face strained. “I’ll tend to the horse, Tarad. He needs to speak to a man. Come, Adowe, help Mama.” She snagged the 8

Dana Erikson

little boy’s arm and pulled him after her out the door before he could voice a protest. Merrick turned at once to Tarad. The man sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck before going to the hearth to spoon several ladlefuls of oatmeal from the black iron pot. He set the wooden bowl on the table and motioned Merrick toward it. “Sit down. I’ll pull you some ale. You’ll need it.” Merrick did as instructed, his senses on the alert. Usually he removed his sword while dining, but now kept it close. He took only a moment to scan the rest of the home’s interior, though what he sought he didn’t know. As were most of the sod houses, it was small, holding no more than a few hardwood chairs, a sleeping pallet and the table. Tarad set a full tankard of warm ale before him, then sat down opposite him at the small trestle table. He folded his hands, unfolded them, rubbed again at his neck and seemed to wait for Merrick to taste of the meal before speaking. Merrick obliged him, though he scarcely tasted the oats. “Why have you come back?” Tarad asked in almost a whisper. Merrick glanced up at him. “I live here.” His answer was blunt. “But why? Why now?” “I’ve been gone for seven years, Tarad. That’s time enough to be away from one’s family, is it not?” “And one’s lover?” Tarad asked softly. Merrick stiffened, his eyes narrowing, though his 9

Tears of Gold

heart thumped wildly in his chest. “What lover do you speak of, Tarad?” The man studied him. “‘Sakes, Merrick, it’s no secret. Everyone knows that Ambrose is—” “Ambrose?” Merrick interrupted, attempting to keep the anger from his voice. “Ambrose is now my lover? That’s preposterous!” He drew a deep, slow breath and started to rise. Tarad reached out and kept him from doing so with a firm grip to Merrick’s wrist. “You may as well know the truth straight out, Merrick,” he said calmly. “Ambrose is gone.” “Gone? Gone where?” Again, Tarad studied him, as if not sure of his own words. “Don’t you know?” “How the hell would I know?” Merrick snapped. “I haven’t been here for seven years!” This time Tarad sighed, and sagged into his chair. “Sit down. Apparently Mielle was right.” “Right about what?” But Tarad went on as if he hadn’t heard Merrick’s question. “They came in here, bearing the standard, claimed that the king had outlawed same-sex relationships, and that anyone deemed to be of that persuasion would be arrested. They took Danard, Joen and Ambrose, but Ambrose was the only one who fought them. He was brutalized for it. They left with Danard and Joen.” “Brutalized?” Merrick sank onto the chair, feeling as if the floor had suddenly dropped out from 10

Dana Erikson

beneath him. “What do you mean? “They forced him, and afterwards...um...they tried to castrate him, Merrick. Right there, in the open field. Fortunately, I found him before he bled to death, and sought help from his mother. She was able to stop the bleeding and heal the grievous wounds. But Ambrose left shortly after. Jilda went to look for him when he realized that Ambrose wasn’t coming back of his volition.” Merrick held onto the table, his head spinning. “And Anona?” “She tried to follow him, but she was just too old to go traipsing about in the hills. She died about two months past now. As for Jilda—no one’s seen him or heard from him since he left.” He rubbed at his neck. “By the gods, you know nothing of this, do you?” Merrick shook his head, stunned and confused. His heart felt constricted, as if unable to pump properly. Bile stood at the back of his throat, and his hands shook as he pushed wet tendrils of hair from his forehead. “How would I know of any of this?” Tarad shrugged. “You’re a king’s man. I just thought—“ “This is not the king’s work, Tarad. I can assure you of that.” He got to his feet, then turned toward the door, his stomach churning. “I will find him, Tarad. And I will find the men who did this to him. They will pay for their crimes. But first I will see my parents. They must know I had nothing to do with any of this, nor did the king.” 11

Tears of Gold

“No!” Tarad said at once. “The fewer who know of your return, the better.” “Why?” Again Tarad hesitated, then shook his head, repeating, “You are a king’s man, Merrick. Everyone knows that. And there are many in town who have no great fondness for your kind right now.” “My kind?” Merrick growled. “And it matters not that I grew up here, that I know most everyone who lives here?” “I’m sorry, Merrick, but you must take your leave as quietly as you arrived. And soon.” Merrick clenched his jaw in rage. He had spent the last seven years in the king’s service, protecting this very township and others like it from numerous threats. And now, when he should be welcomed with accolades, he was being treated like a criminal instead. The very thought that his own friends, those he had grown up with, would treat him with such disdain drove daggers through his heart. He looked over as Mielle and Adowe returned. He suspected they had been waiting patiently for Tarad to share the horrific news. Mielle stepped into the house and closed the door securely, her hand tight about Adowe’s small, browned one. “You were right, Mielle,” Tarad said at once. “This is not the king’s work.” Mielle actually smiled at that. “I know. Those men were imposters. Anona did this.” “What do you mean by that?” Tarad asked. 12

Dana Erikson

“She called Merrick. I know she did. She had powers we could only guess at, Tarad. She called Merrick to come home and set things right.” “Well, it doesn’t seem as if my arrival has done anything of the sort,” Merrick said glumly, ignoring the reference to Anona’s supposed use of the craft. It had always left him feeling uneasy, as if she knew things he did not. More than once, he had wondered if she had passed her ‘gift’ to Ambrose. “But it will,” Mielle said firmly. “As soon as you get word back to the king, things will be set right. You’ll see.” She moved forward, Merrick’s pack in her hands. “I’ll fill this for you. Enough to get you back to the palace. You should leave soon, before the town fully wakes.” Merrick watched her, his thoughts tumbling. Finally, he voiced his concerns. “I cannot leave you here.” “Why not?” Tarad asked. “You said it yourself. My relationship with Ambrose is well-known. What if these men come back, looking for me or information about me? You won’t even let me see my own parents for fear of reprisal. What then of you?” He watched Tarad and Mielle exchange startled, understanding looks, then continued. “Mielle, don’t you have relatives living near Resin?” Her face brightened. “Yes, I do. My sister Ruth and her husband Seth. I haven’t seen them for many months. A visit would be wonderful. Tarad?” 13

Tears of Gold

The man opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, his gaze going to Adowe. Finally, he nodded, though a small sigh of discontent escaped him. “Perhaps that would be a good thing for you and Adowe,” he told his wife, “but I cannot leave my work to another.” “No, Tarad,” Mielle stated. “We go as a family, or we do not go.” Tarad paused, but he must have seen the fiery determination that lay in wife’s eyes, for he sighed. His gaze flicked about the small abode. “I shall go as well, but I must carve out a place for the herds first. Grant me that, Mielle.” She stiffened, but tipped her head. “It should not take but the day, Tarad. Then you will follow.” A sad smile curved Tarad’s mouth. “But the day, then.” He looked at Merrick. “Make it a good day, Merrick.” Merrick nodded, his heart heavy with remorse. “I will wait for you outside.” “In the shadows of the shed then, Merrick,” Tarad said quietly. “We won’t be long.” Merrick clenched his jaw in anger and strode from the house. Once outside, he did as Tarad asked. He slid into the shadows, though the action infuriated him. Why should he have to hide so? Here he was, a soldier of the crown, and he was forced to hide in the very village that spawned him. A village he fought for, killed to protect. It wasn’t right. He leaned against the rough wooden siding of the 14

Dana Erikson

shed, then slid down to his haunches. His gaze flicked over the brushy hillsides surrounding the village, then to the rolling foothills and mountains in the distance. Ambrose would go there, he was sure of it. As youths, he and Ambrose had talked often of the mountains, of their splendor, of their power. Merrick had promised the younger boy that someday they would go to the mountains and explore all that was offered there. Instead, he had gone away to join the King’s Forces, leaving Ambrose behind. Guilt picked at Merrick, put a knot in his stomach. He had to remind himself of his purpose in joining the King’s Forces. He knew that someday he would have to fight to protect Ambrose. A trained fighter was far more effective than someone hacking out with a sword. Still, he felt responsible for the injustices done to Ambrose. If he had been here, the boy would not have been hurt. No one would have dared attack him with Merrick about. Or at least he liked to think so. But really, would it have made a difference? Would he have been taken right along with Ambrose and the others? Most likely. Prior to his soldier training, he had been only a mediocre swordsman. He certainly couldn’t have fought off more than one trained man. He scrubbed at his face, his thoughts going back to Tarad’s words. Why had the men injured Ambrose the way they had? Was that also what Danard and Joen had in wait for them? Was this the punishment for being in love with one’s own sex? To be made less 15

Tears of Gold

of a person? The thought sickened him. He had to get word to King Phator. He had not been wrong in telling Tarad that the king had issued no such orders for the arrest of men like Merrick. Like Ambrose. Like the king. Few people knew of King Phator’s secret life. A life that Merrick had been asked to share in numerous times. His mouth twisted into a small, sad smile at the thought. Phator would have been quite happy to pursue his desires in the open, had he been able to. But as king of the country, there were certain things expected of him. A royal heir was one of those things. An heir he had yet to produce. Girls, he had. Four of them. But a boy had eluded him so far. He had commiserated with Merrick many times, and Merrick had consoled him many times. Still, both men knew that their relationship was one of sexual satisfaction and respect and nothing more. Merrick had talked to Phator often of Ambrose. In fact, he was here now with the king’s blessing—and worry. He couldn’t suppress a small snort of laughter at the memory of Phator’s interrogation of Merrick’s trip home. How far was it? Was he going alone? What route would he take? How long would he be gone? Was his horse in good traveling shape? The list had been almost endless. At last, Merrick had simply slipped the king a handwritten farewell and ridden away. He had spent the first week expecting a contingent of soldiers to ride to his aid, and was both relieved and concerned 16

Dana Erikson

that they had not. He supposed Phator was angry, waiting with a long lecture of responsibility and commitment to the crown. But it would be worth it to be reunited with Ambrose again. Thoughts of the boy brought another smile. Lovers? He and Ambrose? He had not been Ambrose’s lover, although Ambrose had often made his feelings known, even as a small child. And Merrick could not deny his own feelings toward the youth, although he had forcefully suppressed them. He had even turned to another lover in an attempt to keep his feelings at bay. Ambrose was only eleven when Merrick had left the village, not old enough to know what he wanted. Or whom. And although Merrick knew where his own interests lay, he would not coerce Ambrose to follow a lifestyle that could only bring condemnation and heartache. And now, possibly death. He looked up as Tarad, Mielle and Adowe approached. The little boy was clinging to his father, crying. It would prove to be a hard parting. Mielle held her head high, though determination filled her eyes. She carried but one small pack over her shoulder, while Adowe clutched some ragged handsewn toy. Tarad kissed Mielle tenderly, then stroked her hair, his eyes saying what his voice did not. Merrick looked away, his guilt compounded by what his arrival in Orma had caused. Adowe’s high-pitched squeal of despair brought his gaze back around. The little boy 17

Tears of Gold

was holding fiercely to Tarad’s neck, legs wrapped about his waist. “No go!” the little boy wailed. “Stay here, Papa!” “I’ll join you shortly,” Tarad promised. “I have to see to the goats and the sheep first. How would they feel if I left them all alone, with no one to watch over them?” “Me stay, too!” Adowe sobbed. Tarad glanced toward Merrick as if for help, but Merrick didn’t know what he could do. He had no experience with children. “Maybe Uncle Merrick can show you how to use a blade,” Tarad suggested. “No! No wanna stick no one!” Adowe cried. “Here, now,” Merrick said gently. “There are lots of other things I know about besides using a blade. I can show you how to find water where you hear none, food where you see none.” “Magic?” Adowe asked, suddenly interested. “No, not with magic,” Merrick replied. “With knowledge. I can show you how to make a beautiful flute from only a piece of wood. I can show you how to make a cup from grass, a bed from trees.” Adowe eyed him suspiciously, then shook his head, burying his face against Tarad’s chest. “No.” “Then you surely won’t be able to see my horse dance,” Merrick said with an exaggerated sigh. Adowe looked over at him. “Dance? Your horse do dance?” “He can. And quite well.” 18

Dana Erikson

“Then do it.” “Ah, but he has to get to know a person first. He doesn’t dance for just anyone. It took me months to get him to dance for me, but I’ll bet he’d do it sooner for you. He likes children.” Adowe’s gaze shifted to where Merrick’s horse stood waiting patiently in the shadow of the stables. Tarad took up the opportunity to put the small boy down on the ground. “Why don’t you go say hello to the horse?” he suggested. “Please do,” Merrick encouraged. “And see if he will tell you his name. I haven’t been able to guess it yet.” Adowe frowned. “Horses no talk.” “They most certainly do!” Merrick retorted, feigning shock. “It’s just that I cannot understand all of what he says. He’s very secretive.” “Not to me.” “You’re probably right,” Merrick agreed. “Will you help me figure out what he’s saying, then?” Adowe paused, his gaze moving back to Tarad. The little boy drew a deep breath, as if he finally understood the situation. He nodded and hugged his father’s legs before stepping back beside Mielle to grip her hand. She gave Tarad one long, last look, then turned away, drawing Adowe after her toward the horse. Tarad forced a smile to his face and extended his hand to Merrick. “Thank you.” 19

Tears of Gold

“Thank you?” Merrick murmured. “You should not be thanking me. You should be condemning me.” “Why? Now that you have returned and know of the atrocities being committed here, perhaps you can do something to stop them.” Merrick took Tarad’s hand in his, returning the firm grip. “I will. I must.” “Don’t forget Ambrose,” Tarad said quietly. “It is said by some that he carries a great power. Perhaps that power will set things right once again.” The words sent panic and despair racing through Merrick. “A power?” he mumbled. “Who spoke of such?” “Jilda,” Tarad whispered. “I did not question him on it further, but he shared the information with me before he left. Should Ambrose return, I was to protect him at all costs. I would have done so, Merrick. I do not know what power he commands, but if Jilda, Anona and you were willing to go to such lengths to protect him, then could I do any less?” Merrick saw only sincerity in the man’s eyes. “No, Tarad, no more than I could.” He gave Tarad a grim smile, and turned away. Adowe and Mielle were already astride the horse, and Merrick swung up behind them. He looked down at Tarad. “One day, Tarad, or I shall come back for you as well. And that I promise.”

20

Dana Erikson

Chapter Two

M

errick made good progress despite the extra burden his horse had to bear. Having three riders as opposed to one did not seem to bother the animal, and Merrick congratulated himself yet again on choosing the steppe pony over the sleek courser the other soldiers preferred. True, the ponies were a little slower at a dead run, but they more than made up for it with their strength and stamina. Many times Merrick had won a well-planned wager because of his horse. Once again, Powder, so named for his gray coat, had stood Merrick in good stead. He pulled back on the reins, stopping the animal near a small, clear stream. “Why we stop?” Adowe asked at once. Merrick grinned. “I thought we could use a break. You need to stretch your legs a bit.” He lifted the child from the saddle. “Besides, I thought you might be hungry.” “What you got?” “Adowe!” Mielle chastised. “That’s not polite.” Merrick chuckled. “I’ve got real soldier food, Adowe. Soon as you wash up in the stream there, I’ll let you have a taste of it.” He watched the little boy dash toward the stream, then turned to Mielle. “I’ll get you set up at your sister’s home, but I cannot tarry 21

Tears of Gold

there.” “But you told Tarad you would wait for him,” Mielle said. “I’ll meet him on the road. I’ll send him on. I have someplace I need to be.” She started to question him on it, but Adowe returned, hands still dripping. He wiped them on his breeches and looked up at Merrick expectantly. Merrick opened his saddlebag and pulled out several rations of hard biscuit and salt pork. He handed them to Adowe as if he were presenting a feast fit for a king. The little boy took them, his face scrunched up in suspicion. “Best soldier food there is,” Merrick encouraged. Adowe tried to bite into the biscuit. “This is hard! How you ‘spose eat it?” “You just chew on it. Lasts a good long time that way. The meat, the same way. And if you’re thirsty, I’ve got clean, fresh water in my bag here.” Adowe scowled at the food, but sat down and gnawed on the biscuit. Mielle smiled and drew Merrick away from the little boy on the pretense of washing her own hands. “So, you’re thinking of going alone, then? You’ll send Tarad to me, and go alone?” Merrick was surprised by her accusatory tone. “I came here alone, Mielle.” “That was before,” she snapped. “What if someone saw you? Recognized you?” Merrick tried again. “I don’t want him involved in 22

Dana Erikson

this, Mielle. He’s got you and the child to look after. It’s bad enough what I’ve caused so far.” “Oh, Saints! You didn’t cause it, Merrick! Those heathens masquerading as king’s men did. I wouldn’t feel right having you with no one to watch your back.” “Mielle.” Merrick took her hand gently between his. “I appreciate your thoughts, but I—” “Oh,” she interrupted. “So, you’ve gone off to soldier training and you’ve grown eyes in the back of your head as well? Turn. Let me see. It would be a first.” Merrick couldn’t help but smile at her scolding. “You are a feisty one, Mielle. Fine, then. I shall ask Tarad. If he hesitates, he stays with you. Agreed?” She frowned. “I don’t like it, but...agreed.” Merrick chuckled. “Now then, if Adowe has chewed quite long enough on the bread, we should continue. I’d like to get you both to your sister’s home before nightfall.” He turned and walked back to the horse. Adowe squinted up at him. “Asher. That he’s name.” For a moment Merrick was confused, then he glanced at his horse, who was contentedly munching on Adowe’s hardtack. “Asher? Did he tell you, then? I thought his name was Powder. That’s what I’ve been calling him all of this time.” Adowe wrinkled his nose. “He no like it.” Merrick started. “Doesn’t he?” 23

Tears of Gold

Mielle smiled. “I believe Asher means happy one.” “Happy one?” Merrick echoed. He watched the horse finish off the biscuit. “Well, I can certainly say he’s happy at the moment. Very happy.” He chuckled, patted the horse’s neck, then lifted Adowe into the saddle before turning to Mielle. “M’Lady?” He lifted her easily, placing her behind Adowe, then settled himself behind her, which put him off the saddle. “That can’t be very comfortable,” Mielle said quietly, voicing Merrick’s own thoughts. Merrick shrugged, not wanting to dwell on his sore backside. “It’s not much farther. Let’s see how fast we can get there. Pow…um, Asher should be able to move very quickly now with his happy—and full— stomach.” He reached around Mielle and Adowe, unlooped the reins from the pommel and kneed the horse into movement. It took them the rest of the day to reach Resin, what with the frequent stops to allow Adowe to rest. It was with weary relief that Merrick reined up in front of the small farm. He slid from the horse’s back, stifling a groan. Adowe had long since fallen asleep against his mother’s chest and now stirred, waking with a startled gasp to find it was dark. “Mama?” he cried, his voice seeming to echo in the darkness. “Shh,” Mielle whispered. “I’m right here. We’re at Auntie Ruth’s.” Merrick reached up to take the sleepy child, then 24

Dana Erikson

waited for Mielle to dismount. The house was disturbingly quiet, and Merrick held Mielle back. He shifted Adowe back into her arms and loosened the guard on his sword. “Stay here behind the horse until I give you word,” he whispered. She nodded, questions in her dark eyes. Merrick crept away, his senses on alert. There was no light in the house, no flickering flame of a fireplace or a single candle. The shutters were closed tight at the front of the house, and Merrick slipped around to the back. He could see the outbuildings, quiet and dark in the night. Again, there was no movement, no sound coming from them. His unease increasing, Merrick investigated each of the shutters over the windows. They were all tightly secured, as if the house had been boarded up and abandoned. He hesitated, chewing on his lip, then returned to Mielle. “What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know. I want you and Adowe to take Asher and wait over by that tree. Go quietly.” She did as told, not even questioning him. Once she was safely away, he turned to the front door. A quick check of the handle showed it to be locked. For a moment, he stood quietly, letting his senses take over. He had never questioned his intuition before; he was not going to now. Something was amiss. This was not the home of a family simply gone off to bed early. There had been too many things to alert them to visitors—the sound of the horse approaching, his own 25

Tears of Gold

groan, Adowe’s whining. He drew a deep breath, unsheathed his dagger, and slammed his foot against the door. It crashed inward, the wood splintering with a sickening screech. Merrick flung himself to one side just in time. An arrow shot through the doorway, whistling eerily in the night, wobbling badly, as if the shooter had no strength left. He ducked, rolled into the room and came to his feet in a crouch, well beneath the path of any more projectiles. Instead, a muffled scream of terror cut through the dusty air, and Merrick ducked as the bow was thrown his way. It clattered to the floor behind him, and a dark form dodged past. He reached out, snagging the person, his hands closing on a scrawny arm. A child! The child shrieked, clawing frantically at Merrick’s grip. “Stop!” Merrick ordered. “At once!” But the child’s terror was too overwhelming, and he or she fought savagely to be free. Pain tore through Merrick’s hand and arm, the skin torn as sharp teeth sunk in. Instead of releasing the child, Merrick countered by reaching back and taking a huge handful of hair. A quick, sure tug brought an end to the child’s struggles. At once, deep, choking sobs filled the air, and the child sagged in Merrick’s grip. He did not relax his grip, but tried to bring a calm to his voice, even though he knew the child’s bite had drawn blood. “Easy now,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you. 26

Dana Erikson

Are you Ruth’s child?” A gasp was interspersed with the sobs. “Mama?” The sad, sweet voice of a little girl. The word was so plaintive, so heartrending that Merrick caught at his breath. He loosed his hold on her hair, but did not release her arm. He was afraid she might bolt, and he would never know the answers to her terror. “Yes. Ruth. Where is she?” “In the barn,” the little girl sobbed. “With Papa. Been there for a long time. They don’t move no more.” Merrick winced. “Listen, your Aunt Mielle is with me. Would you like to go see her?” There was no answer, but he felt her head move. He straightened and led the child from the house. Once outside, the light of the moon gave him his first look at her. She couldn’t have been more than six years old. Her clothes and hair were filthy, her hair matted with snarls. Her eyes were those of the hunted, large and filled with terror. “My name is Merrick,” he said softly, not knowing what else to say, what else would calm the turmoil in his gut. She didn’t answer, but followed him docilely to where Mielle and Adowe waited. Adowe was asleep on the ground, but Mielle let out a small gasp of horror, covering her mouth with her hand. Her gaze shot to Merrick, then tears filled her eyes. She dropped to the ground, and gathered the little girl close. 27

Tears of Gold

“Rose,” she whispered. “Auntie.” The little girl fell against Mielle, sobbing. “Ruth?” Mielle asked softly, her gaze on Merrick. “I don’t know. I need to check in the barn.” He handed Mielle his dagger. “I’ll be right back. Stay here, be quiet.” She nodded numbly, and he crept off. He approached the barn stealthily, although his gut instinct told him it wasn’t necessary. If Rose’s parents had been there for a while, unmoving, it could only mean they were long dead, and the assassins long gone. Still, he might be able to get some information on who had done this, and why. The stench of death reached him before he even opened the door to the barn. He covered his mouth and nose with one hand and slipped into the building. It was too dark to see much, but he heard the soft nicker of a horse. Weak, in distress. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom, then moved warily forward. His foot hit something solid, and he almost fell before catching himself. Even in the darkness he could tell he had just about stepped on one of Rose’s parents. Struggling against heaving, Merrick hunkered down next to the body. From what little he could in the darkness, the man had been stabbed numerous times. A pitchfork lay nearby, as if used in a last attempt at defense. Merrick rose and stepped over him, listening for more sounds from the horse. They guided him forward to a stall. It was still 28

Dana Erikson

latched tight, and when Merrick opened it, he was nearly floored by the stench. Something moved toward him, the gait unsteady. It wasn’t big enough to be a horse, and for a moment panic swelled through him. He brought his sword up, and backed away, trying not to breathe. The form stumbled into the open area of the barn. Another nicker caught at the rank air, and a foal nearly collided with Merrick. “Whoa there,” he murmured, and took hold of the animal’s mane. The little creature started, then leaned against him, as if seeming to realize a savior was at hand. Merrick patted the animal a moment, then moved back toward the stall. Now, with the door open, he could see two more unmoving forms—one the foal’s mother, the other a woman. No doubt Rose’s mama, who had tried to hide in the stall and been found nonetheless. With a heavy heart, Merrick backed away, took hold of the foal’s mane and led the little beast out of the barn. It was a slow walk to where the others waited, the foal moving on shaky legs. Merrick realized it was almost newborn, most likely born shortly before the mother had succumbed. He wasn’t altogether sure it would even survive. He didn’t need to say anything to Mielle about her sister and brother-in-law. His silence was enough. The woman swallowed hard, but refused to loose her grief in front of the two children. Rose had calmed and was sitting quietly, as if she had now closed off to 29

Tears of Gold

the world and those around her. Not even the sight of the horse roused a light in her eyes. “We need to move on,” Merrick said quietly, so as not to wake Adowe. “We’ll make camp where it’s sheltered. Tomorrow I’ll come back here and…take care of things.” Mielle nodded and rose. The movement startled Rose, and she grabbed for Mielle’s skirts in panic. The action proved to be too much for Mielle, and she collapsed back to the ground, sobbing. Merrick sighed and sat beside her, taking her into his arms. She held onto him, her body shuddering with her grief. Rose clung to her as well, although there was only empty terror in her eyes now. “Why?” Mielle finally whispered. “What happened?” “I don’t know. I can’t tell much in this darkness. I’ll come back tomorrow. Right now, I need to get you all someplace safe.” He sighed again and got to his feet. “We need to move on. I want to be far enough away from the farm in case anyone comes back, but not so far that I can’t get here easily.” He extended his hand to Mielle, but the woman was held back by Rose’s frantic grip on her. The woman hugged the child to her and struggled to her feet. Merrick picked up Adowe, who did no more than briefly stir before again drifting to sleep, his arms locked about Merrick’s neck. For a moment, the two adults stood staring at each other, as if jointly wondering how they would get either child astride 30

Dana Erikson

the horse. Then Merrick reached out and pulled Rose away from Mielle. The little girl whimpered but said nothing more, and Mielle swung into the saddle. Merrick handed up first Rose, then Adowe. Adowe grumbled about being jostled about, and opened his eyes. He blinked in confusion at Rose sitting behind him. “Where you come from?” he asked. She frowned at him, as if finally recognizing someone she knew. Still, she didn’t answer, and pressed closer to Mielle. Merrick knew there was no way that Asher could handle all of them and so took up the leads and led the horse away. The foal followed slowly.

31

Tears of Gold

Chapter Three

M

errick paused in his work and wiped the sweat from his brow. He stood back, looking at the two freshly covered graves. It was work he was accustomed to doing, but yet never quite used to. He had dug a number of the gravesites in Orma, helping when he was smaller, taking on the full burden as he grew older. While it had given him a sense of respect for the dead, he had never quite approached it as his father did. There was a reverence in the way his father handled the bodies, the care he took in preparing them for burial. He helped them out of life with the same gentleness and care that midwives had helped them into life. All that Merrick had truly gotten out of the whole thing was an acceptance of death and strong shoulder muscles from wielding a shovel. He sighed now, looking at the unmarked graves. Much as he wanted to provide them with some sort of headstone, he wasn’t sure if he even should. The fewer who knew he’d been here, the better. His heightened sense of wariness made him turn. A lone rider approached the farm, and Merrick slid into the protective shade of the barn. He dropped the shovel for his sword, and waited. Relief rushed through him as the rider reined up in 32

Dana Erikson

front of the house. Tarad. Merrick stepped from the shadows and waved to the man, then resheathed his sword. Tarad turned his horse toward the barn. As he drew closer, his gaze flicked to the gravesites, and the color left his face. He fairly fell from the saddle. “Mielle!” he cried. “No!” Merrick grabbed him. “It’s not Mielle. It’s Ruth and her husband. Mielle and Adowe are fine.” Tarad tore his gaze from the graves, his mouth half open in shock. “Ruth? And…” He spun. “Rose! Where is she?” “She’s fine. She’s with Mielle. I’m done here. I’ll take you to them.” “What happened?” Tarad breathed. “Let’s talk on the road. I don’t want to stay out in the open any longer than I have to.” He bobbed his head at the barn. “My horse is waiting just inside. Not happily, I might add.” He stepped into the barn, his eyes still watering at the smell of the decomposing horseflesh. He had found no other animals. If they had been here, they were long gone. Merrick expected that the horse would have left too, were it not for her impending birth. He had at least ascertained that she had died shortly after childbirth. Probably why Ruth and her husband were in the barn in the first place. They had been attending the birth. He led Asher from the barn, and swung astride. Tarad followed his gait away from the farm. For a long while, neither of them spoke. Finally, Tarad broke the silence. “How is Mielle?” 33

Tears of Gold

“She’s doing as well as can be expected. I think she’s holding off on her own grief until Rose can deal with hers.” Tarad ran one hand over his face. “Gods! The poor child. She isn’t but six years old. She lost her only brother just a year back, now her parents.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how she’ll recover from this added burden of grief.” “I wish I had known about her brother,” Merrick said. “I would have buried his parents close to him.” “Doesn’t matter where the earthly forms are buried, Merrick. You should know that. Their souls are together now. That’s what’s important.” He paused a moment, obviously unsure about even asking, about hearing the answers. “You never said what happened to them, Merrick.” Merrick grimaced. “Ruth...was raped. I suspect that Seth attempted to stop whomever it was.” He frowned, glancing sideways at Tarad. “These men...those who violated Ambrose...what’s their agenda? You made it seem that they had an issue with Ambrose’s sexual preference. Now we find Ruth and Seth dead. It just seems coincidental following Ambrose’s attack.” Tarad sighed and shook his head. “I doubt it was the same men, Merrick. I’ve told Seth time and again that he lived too far away from the protection of the village, too close to the mountains.” “Why would that be a problem?” Merrick asked. “I used to play in the foothills all of the time as a child. 34

Dana Erikson

There was never a problem.” “Times have changed. The foothills are not the safest place anymore. There have been rumors of problems west of the mountains.” “Problems? What sort of problems?” “Slavery.” Merrick caught at his breath. “Slavery?” “Hold on! I can’t say for sure. I’ve heard only rumors. I don’t usually listen to them.” Merrick felt a peculiar twist in his gut, and his gaze once more went towards the mountains. What if Ambrose did go there? What if this slavery story was more than a rumor? What if Ambrose had been caught and sold? What if the sole purpose of those men riding into Orma was to find slaves? It would become more than just looking for a wayward boy. Slavery was against the law. If the king discovered this was taking place in one of his own provinces, he would be outraged. And, as a king’s man, it was up to Merrick to put truth or denial to this issue. His route became sure—the palace. He needed to get back there, install the others in that safety, then ride out again, although his heart ached to search for Ambrose instead. He guided Asher around a rock outcropping, and reined in. “There.” He bobbed his head toward the small camp in the distance. “They’re there.” An audible sigh of relief escaped Tarad and he started forward, then paused and looked back at Merrick. “You’re not coming?” 35

Tears of Gold

“In a moment. I have something I need to do, and I think you should have some private time with your family, Tarad. Mielle needs you. She needs your strength, not mine.” Tarad gave him a grim smile. “Don’t underestimate yourself, Merrick. I think if you hadn’t left when you did, she might be your wife by now.” The words startled Merrick, and he felt color rush to his cheeks. “I…that…” He shook his head. “I know,” Tarad said softly. “Your heart lies elsewhere.” He reached out to squeeze Merrick’s shoulder, then rode away. Merrick watched him go, his discomfiture only increasing. Had his love for Ambrose been so obvious, despite all his attempts to hide it? His thoughts snapped to his own parents. Would they be condemned because they had given birth to this man who was not a man? The fact that these men were operating under their own agenda frightened him. If they were the same men who had murdered Ruth and Seth...he shook himself. Merrick had to believe his parents would be safe. He turned Asher’s head and moved north. He moved with a sureness of path, guiding the horse in and out of the rocks that littered the grasslands. He had been here many times over the years, and even though much time had passed, things looked the same. It took him less than an hour to reach the foothills, and he gently stopped Asher as memories rushed over him. Memories he pushed 36

Dana Erikson

back with difficulty. A small stream gurgled from the hills, disappearing into the sparse woodlands to his right. He dismounted and left Asher to graze on the tender grass alongside the water, then climbed over the boulders. It took him but moments to reach the glade. And here, the memories could not be stilled. He sank to his knees on the spongy green moss, despair ripping through his heart. This was their place—his and Ambrose’s. They had come here so many times as youths to swim in the pool, to climb the hills, to just be in one another’s company. Now, Ambrose was gone, and it felt as if a part of Merrick was gone as well. Tears came easily, and for many moments Merrick sat quietly sobbing. It was only after he calmed, wiped the wetness from his cheeks, that he saw the sparkle in the sunlight. A rush of recognition tore through him and he stumbled to the spot near the willow tree. Flecks of gold glittered in the sunshine, balancing delicately on the tips of the moss like…like golden tears. Merrick’s sob caught in his throat. Ambrose had been here! He had lay beneath this tree and cried, true tears of despair and heartache. It did nothing to ease Merrick’s own suffering. Merrick reached out and touched lightly at the gold. When he drew his hand back, his fingers sparkled. Ambrose’s power. The power Tarad had spoken of. No, it could not slay enemies, only bring them. Merrick had not believed it the first time he had 37

Tears of Gold

witnessed it. Ambrose was only five when he had lost a pet, a tiny black goat. He had cried, his heart torn apart. But his tears were not those of most men. His ran gold, pure gold, that left shining tracks down his pale, thin cheeks. Merrick had been astounded, then frightened. Even though Ambrose had seemed oblivious to what it meant, Merrick had known. There were men who would do anything for the flakes of gold that Ambrose brushed away. Even kill. He had known then, as he knew it now, that he had to protect Ambrose, had to keep his secret from becoming known. Anona had known that as well, and had sworn Merrick to the child’s protection. Just as Merrick had sworn Jilda to the same. He had entrusted the man to watch over Ambrose, to protect him, keep him from detection. Now Anona was dead, and Ambrose and Jilda missing. If anyone else found out about Ambrose’s power… Merrick shuddered and closed his hand into a fist. He had to find Ambrose. ****** Andrus watched Ambrose carefully from his perch on the wooden throne. Each rod strike that drove against the young man’s supple flesh, each cry of pain that echoed in the hall, each jolt of movement, only sent Andrus’ heart beating faster. Only when the strikes 38

Dana Erikson

reached eight did Andrus signal a halt to the rodding. Ambrose, already on his knees, sagged in his bonds, his breathing labored. Andrus rose, letting his loose robes hide his erection, and walked slowly to stand in front of the young man. “Look at me,” he ordered. Ambrose lifted his head, his eyes glazed with pain. Andrus smiled and traced one finger along Ambrose’s lips, then down along his jawline. He bent close, his voice soft. “You surprised me at our first meeting. I thought it only fair that I now surprise you. Were you surprised?” Ambrose frowned, obviously not sure how to answer. Andrus smiled and walked around him. Already the marks across his back were an angry swollen red, with blood seeping through torn skin. I must be careful, Andrus thought. No scars must mar this beautiful man before me. At least, not yet. He flicked his hand at the man who had wielded the rod, dismissing him, then drew his chair closer to Ambrose, so that one knee touched each of Ambrose’s shoulders. It brought Andrus’ concealed erection very close to the young man’s face, close enough he could feel warm breath through his silken robes. He swallowed hard to keep his voice steady when he spoke, although a tremble ran through him, sending chills up his spine. “Our first meeting went better than expected. You are quite gifted with your hands. How is that? What 39

Tears of Gold

other lovers have you caressed?” A flush spread over Ambrose’s face. “I...none, M’Lord. I...” he licked his lips, averting his gaze, and dropping his head, then drawing back to allow space between him and Andrus. “Look at me!” Andrus roared, then when Ambrose did, he backhanded the young man soundly across the face. “Never look away unless I tell you to. Is that clear?” Ambrose spat blood from his mouth and answered, “Yes, M’Lord. Apologies.” Andrus calmed himself, but his penis leapt and jumped painfully beneath his robes. This was delicious, having this man enslaved, forced to do his bidding. Oh, he had other slaves in the past, but no one that brought his lust to such a roaring fire by only a glance. This one was special. This one would provide many months of pleasure before he was ready for the river. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation through Andrus, and he repeated his question with some difficulty. “How did you learn to use your hands so?” “I am self-taught, M’Lord,” Ambrose said, his embarrassment evident. At that, Andrus laughed. “So, you find yourself a good companion then? It must be lonely with only your hands for company. Well, perhaps I can fill that loneliness.” He slowly drew back his robes to reveal his erection. Although Ambrose’s gaze never left his, he saw the young man flinch. Andrus smiled. 40

Dana Erikson

“You were quite gifted with your hands,” he said. “How gifted are you with your mouth?” He reached out, grabbed handfuls of golden curls and pushed Ambrose’s face down. “Pleasure me,” he whispered. For a second, Ambrose hesitated, then slowly, with deliberation, Ambrose took Andrus into his mouth. Andrus trembled when he felt Ambrose’s tongue swirling over him, touching, probing, stroking, teasing. Then suddenly cool air as Ambrose pulled away just long enough to startle Andrus, to send a chill whipping through him, before he was once again encased in liquid warmth. Over and over the same scenario played out, with each warm enclosure becoming stronger, tighter, faster. At last, Andrus could contain himself no longer, and with a roar he drove forward, pulling Ambrose close, and let his seed fill the young man’s mouth. It was only hours afterward, hours after he returned Ambrose to the slave pen and collapsed in his warm bath, that he realized that Ambrose was no stranger to this form of lovemaking either, that the young man had once more turned the tables on him, becoming the master in the game. The thought both infuriated and infatuated him. Perhaps Ambrose had won this first test of wills, but he would not win the next.

41

Tears of Gold

Chapter Four

M

errick straightened, took one last look about the glade, then returned to his horse. Ambrose had gone into the mountains, Merrick was sure of it. And he vowed to follow. Somehow he would pick up Ambrose’s trail, find him, then safeguard him for the rest of his life. He had promised Anona. He had promised himself, and it tore at him that the promise would have to wait. He had a duty to the crown first, and a duty to Tarad and his family. He sent a prayer heavenward for Ambrose, and swung up on Asher’s back. By the time he returned to Tarad and the others, the man was visibly worried. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Merrick ride into the camp, and came toward him at once. “By the gods, man! What took you so long? I thought…well…” He shook his head, and stepped aside for Merrick to dismount. Merrick glanced at the children, then at the foal. It was a colt, he saw that now, a beautiful roan colt, who was nursing on the horse that Tarad had ridden. Merrick turned questioning eyes on the man. Tarad shrugged. “My horse lost her own foal not more than two days past. This is good for her.” “As Mielle seems to be for the children,” Merrick 42

Dana Erikson

observed. “They look better.” “Mielle can work wonders,” Tarad said quietly. “But this will be a hard loss nonetheless.” Merrick gave a grim smile and walked with the man to the others. “You back,” Adowe said looking up at him. “Where you get her?” He stabbed a finger toward the foal. “It’s a colt, a boy. He belongs to Rose.” He glanced at the little girl. “Have you named him yet?” She ignored him, huddled tighter against Mielle, and averted her gaze. Merrick contained his sigh, and waited for Adowe to answer. “I known’t he was a boy,” Adowe said, and pursed his small lips. “I name him Rowan.” “No, it’s not,” Rose suddenly put in. Merrick looked at her, startled. Even Mielle caught at her breath. “Is too,” Adowe shot back, oblivious to the adults’ reactions. “Is not! Papa said I could name the baby, and I don’t like Rowan!” Tears filled her eyes, and spilled over. “I no care!” Adowe told her hotly. “Hush, now,” Mielle soothed. “What would you like to name the colt then, Rose?” Rose sniffed and shrugged. “I dunno. Not Rowan.” “That his name!” Adowe snapped, stomping his small foot. “He tol’ me. And Asher tol’ me, too.” Rose broke into sobs and buried her face against 43

Tears of Gold

Mielle’s breast. Merrick’s gaze went from one child to the other, then to Mielle, and finally Tarad. “We need to keep going, Mielle. To the palace.” “The palace?” Mielle’s eyes grew wide. “Why go there?” Merrick glanced at Tarad, not clear on how much Mielle knew. “There are some issues I need to take up with the king. And it will be a safer place for you and the children.” He silenced Tarad’s protest with an upraised hand. Mielle nodded and gently pried Rose away. “Fine. Then that’s where we need to go. But it’s a fair distance, and I am a little concerned about supplies.” Merrick grimaced. “I’ve seen to that.” He didn’t need to tell her how—that he had raided her sister’s home for anything he thought they might need. He had tried to be sensitive in what he took, but he knew blankets and spare clothing would be necessary. He also knew that it would bring sorrow-filled memories to Mielle and Rose. Still, it couldn’t be helped. He had little money, and what he did have he might need for food for the little group. If he knew a farmer’s life, Tarad wasn’t likely to have much in coinage, a fact the man now voiced quietly. “I’ve nothing to spare, Merrick. I brought what I could, but even that will soon be gone in a lengthy journey. Best we stay here, where—” “No,” Merrick interrupted firmly. “It’s too risky. And I’ll not be the cause of any more grief.” 44

Dana Erikson

“You weren’t the cause of any to begin with,” Tarad said, but did not argue further as he turned to his son. “Come on now, up with you. You can ride with Uncle Merrick. Your mama and Rose will ride with me.” Adowe scowled at Rose, but obviously thought better of arguing with his father. He huffed out an unhappy breath and crossed his arms tightly about his chest as Tarad settled him on Asher’s back. Merrick looked up at him. “I thought you liked Asher,” he said softly. “I want Mama.” Adowe’s dark eyes filled with tears. Merrick glanced over at Mielle, who was already astride Tarad’s horse with Rose. The child’s face was pinched with uncertainty, fear and grief. Merrick didn’t think it would be a good thing to take her from Mielle at this point. On the other hand, Adowe was obviously just as scared. “I tell you what,” Merrick said, looking up at Adowe. “You seem to know Asher pretty well. And it’s obvious he likes you. I mean, he told you his name and all. So how about I let you hold his reins?” Mielle let out a gasp of alarm, but Adowe’s little face lit up. “Me?” “I think he would like that.” “But he’s so big,” Mielle pointed out, her disapproving tone not lost on Merrick. “But he talks to the boy,” Tarad put in. “And if he talks to Adowe, he’s going to listen to him as well.” 45

Tears of Gold

He looked at his son. “You just have to be firm with him, let him know you mean business.” “I do that!” Adowe cried. Merrick grinned and swung up behind the boy. He looped the reins over the saddle pommel, then handed them to Adowe. The trailing ends he grasped loosely in one hand. Adowe frowned at him. “You let go. I steer him.” “You are going to ‘steer’ him,” Merrick assured him. “But I have to hold onto the extra rein so he doesn’t trip over it. Fair enough?” Adowe thought on it for a moment, then nodded. Tarad grinned, tipped his head at Merrick, and swung up behind Mielle. “You should have been a father, Merrick,” he said quietly. Merrick chuckled lightly, although the familiar pain swept through his heart. He would never be a father, he knew that. Still, there were some things a man couldn’t change. He nudged Asher lightly and the horse started out, moving west toward the mountains. The little group rode fitfully, stopping often to let the children down to eat and exercise their sore muscles. Still, by nightfall, they were both exhausted and cranky. Rose began to cry the moment the sun’s light left the skies. Adowe had obviously decided he’d shared his mother long enough, and now pushed Rose aside to find comfort in Mielle’s arms. Rose’s plaintive wails echoed back from the dark mountains in a haunting call of loneliness and despair that sent 46

Dana Erikson

chills up Merrick’s spine and tears to his eyes. He turned away to unsaddle the horses, trying desperately to get his own emotions under control. Tarad’s voice startled him. “There’s evidence of fresh passage, Merrick,” he said quietly. “Heading up into the mountains.” “I know.” Merrick uncinched Asher’s saddle and pulled it free. It fell to the ground with a solid thump, and he turned to Tarad’s horse. “I got it,” Tarad said, moving him aside. “The prints are large. I doubt Ambrose, unless…unless he’s grown a great deal since I saw him last.” Tarad chuckled softly. “’Sakes, Merrick, you haven’t seen him for almost seven years. Of course he’s grown. He’s still no big man, but he’s at least a man.” Tarad finished with his horse, then turned to Merrick. “Why did you leave?” The question caught Merrick by surprise. He wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “I…I didn’t want to follow my father, tending the cemetery. It’s not a good place for me. I know that. And, like anyone, I wanted something better for my future. The military seemed like the way to do that.” He wanted to stop talking, but Tarad’s gaze seemed to draw more words from him, words that didn’t even make sense. He just felt the need to fill the awkward silence without saying what was really in his heart. “I wanted to have something, be something, be someone. I wanted success, riches, recognition. I don’t know of—” 47

Tears of Gold

Tarad held up one hand, silencing him. “You were never a selfish man, Merrick. I can’t see you leaving home, your parents, Ambrose, just to better your own life.” “It wasn’t just for me,” Merrick said quickly. “I sent money home.” “That’s not what I meant.” Tarad paused. “You were always a strong man, Merrick, good with a sword. I expect you’re ten times better now.” “What are you getting at?” Merrick asked bluntly. “You did this for Ambrose, didn’t you? You learned how to be a soldier. To protect him. You knew you’d have to.” Merrick was quiet for a moment, then he spun away. “I should have just stayed here.” He shook his head, then stomped away. He walked far enough that he could have some privacy, but not so far that he couldn’t see the others. He slouched onto a boulder and watched as Tarad joined his wife and the children. It wasn’t long before the man had a small fire kindled. Merrick would have preferred none—no sign to tell anyone they were here—but he knew that the children needed all of the comfort they could get. And, in truth, so did he. He’d seen those footprints, studied them as he rode. They weren’t all that new. Maybe a week or so past. And large. Even if Ambrose had grown, he wouldn’t have fit those prints. Who, then? Someone innocuous? Someone just passing over the mountains? Merrick couldn’t read something 48

Dana Erikson

ominous into everything he saw or heard. Maybe Ambrose hadn’t even come this way. Maybe Jilda had found him, taken him to safety. Or maybe it was as Tarad said. Maybe Ambrose and Jilda were on their way to the palace to see Merrick. But then, wouldn’t he have met them on the road? Unless they were taking to the forests in a bid for secrecy. Gods! Things were so confused. He ran a hand through his hair, then rubbed at his neck. How was he ever going to find Ambrose if he had to travel at the slow pace with the children and the new foal? Yet he couldn’t leave them alone. He was responsible for their plight now. And who had passed through that farm, slain Rose’s parents? Why? Could these footprints be that someone? The timing was right. Had the murderer fled into the hills? If so, would he or she now be watching Merrick and the others? The thought made Merrick’s skin crawl. He was good with a sword, better with an arrow, but even he couldn’t fight against the unknown. And he couldn’t expect Tarad to be at his side. The man had obligations, those who needed him. He couldn’t risk his life. Merrick shook the thoughts aside and rose. He needed his rest if he was to be the group’s main protector. Tarad looked up at his approach. The children were asleep, nestled one on each side of Mielle, who also dozed fitfully on the hard ground. 49

Tears of Gold

“I knew you wouldn’t want a fire,” Tarad whispered. “But the children —” “Seemed to need it,” Merrick finished, and sagged to the ground. “That’s all right. I understand completely. And you hid it well. I doubt it could be seen from very many angles.” He paused, watching the flames lick at the meager kindling. “Tarad, how well do you know how to fight?” Tarad didn’t seem surprised by the question. “You mean, can I help you at all? Just in case those footprints belong to someone we don’t want to meet?” The words sent a shudder through Merrick. “Exactly,” he mumbled. ****** Merrick hunkered down amongst the boulders, his gaze searching the ground. Footprints still lingered in the dirt, protected from wind by the rocks surrounding them. It seemed logical that whoever climbed these hills sought the easiest path up. That meant they walked between the rocks, as opposed to over them. It also meant, that whoever it was, they were not worried about being tracked. In the light of day, with the sun brightly shining, Merrick was eager to discount the footsteps as anything worrisome. Surely if these prints belonged to someone who had brutally attacked and murdered two innocent people, the owner wouldn’t be so 50

Dana Erikson

casual. Merrick sighed and glanced back at the others. He was torn between following the tracks, seeing where they led, to whom, and avoiding them like the plague. It was one thing to track someone, another to be tracked himself. The children had dismounted for yet another break. Noon was well past, and Merrick chafed under the slow pace he was forced to keep. Yet, he didn’t want to push the children any harder. Already they were out of sorts, bickering, whining and complaining about anything and everything. Merrick supposed it was actually good that Rose had begun to talk, even if all of her words seemed to be surly. But it was taking its toll on his patience. “Follow the tracks?” Tarad said from close behind. Merrick started, then glanced back at the man. “Reading minds your specialty?” Tarad grinned, but it was a wary smile. “No, no claims to anything magical. It doesn’t take magic to see what you’re looking at, what we’ve been following.” “Your thoughts, then?” Tarad shrugged. “I think I understand your reasoning. Better to follow than be followed.” “Aye. I just wish I knew who these belonged to. I hate like hell to put you and your family into danger. By the gods! I wish I had never come home!” Tarad sighed, and ran one hand through his hair. His voice was soft when he finally spoke. “You didn’t have a choice. You were called.” 51

Tears of Gold

“Called?” Merrick shook his head. “What do you mean?” “I’ve been thinking about Mielle’s words. She said Anona called you. She’s right. I don’t think you came back on your own volition at all. I think Anona did it.” Merrick tipped his head thoughtfully. “It was no secret that Anona dealt in the magics, Tarad. But to call me?” He shook his head. “Well, I didn’t believe it either, but here you are.” “Yes,” Merrick mumbled. “Here I am. To the detriment of all, it would seem.” Tarad gripped his arm. “No, Merrick. You had to come. For Ambrose’s sake. For the sake of the life you once had, the lives we all had. I don’t want to live in fear, Merrick. I don’t want to have to worry about having something I’ve done or said misconstrued. What if I happened to hug a mate? Would I then be condemned as Ambrose was? And what of Adowe? I don’t know his preferences. What if he is like Ambrose? What then? Do I watch my own son die for something that he has no control over?” “Of course not,” Merrick replied. “Tarad?” Mielle called. Tarad looked over at her, then glanced back at Merrick. “We need to move on. I know you’re trying to be patient, but I think we need to push the children harder. We can’t be caught out here night after night. We need to get to the palace or somewhere safe.” Merrick watched him go with a sigh, then shook 52

Dana Erikson

his head and joined the others, not sure just where safety lay. “I no wanna!” Adowe cried, fighting against his father’s strong arms. “Adowe! There will be no arguing. We need to keep going.” “I wanna play,” Adowe stated and broke into sobs. He reached out for Mielle, but she had Rose in her arms. “Go way!” Adowe screamed and batted at Rose, catching her on the nose. Rose yelled in pain, and she too began to cry. Tarad grabbed at Adowe’s arm, restraining him, which sent the little boy into gales of sobbing shrieks. “Adowe! Stop it!” Tarad snapped. “Enough!” Merrick said at the same time. Already the screams of the children were echoing off the rocks, ricocheting like rocks from a sling. And the sound stung just about as badly. If anyone was up ahead, or—the gods forbid—following, they were now keyed in on the little groups’ whereabouts. “Go way!” Adowe screamed again, writhing in his father’s arms. “I hate you!” Rose added with just as much vehemence. “Stop it!” Merrick roared. “Both of you!” At once, both children went quiet, falling against Mielle and Tarad like puppets with their strings cut. Merrick stared at them, guilt washing over him. He had no right to discipline someone else’s children. Still, he couldn’t take the chance of being discovered. 53

Tears of Gold

Not here. Not with so much at stake. He turned to Tarad, ready with an apology, but the man gave a subtle shake of his head. Apparently, he understood. For long moments, no one moved, no one spoke. It was as if each listened, just waiting for a footfall, a clip of horse’s hooves, men’s voices. But the eerie whistle of a dry wind through the rocks was the only sound. “Let’s get moving,” Merrick said quietly. “Tarad, keep your dagger handy. Mielle, here’s mine.” He silenced her protests. “You might need it. Don’t be afraid to use it. Think of the children.” She nodded, then frowned when Merrick took Rose from her arms. “I want you and Adowe with Tarad. I’ll take Rose with me.” Surprisingly, Rose didn’t protest. Mielle mounted Tarad’s horse, then took Adowe in her arms. She cradled her small son to her breast, burying her face in his hair. Merrick could hear her soft sobs as he and Tarad claimed their own places on their horses. He looped one rein about Rose, effectively tying her to the saddle horn, then started off at the fastest pace he could on the rocky hillside. One hand held the reins loosely, the other rested on the hilt of his sword. His heart was pounding, and sweat trickled down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt. But it was not from the heat of the day. Merrick glanced at Asher, at his ears. The horse was relaxed, calm. If there was someone lurking in the rocks, the presence was not bothering the horse at all. That helped ease Merrick’s 54

Dana Erikson

trepidation. He had come to put his trust in the horse, in the moods of the animal. Asher had given him fair and accurate warning too many times to discount. His thoughts went back to Tarad’s words. Anona had called him with magic. Called him to come and rescue Ambrose. He frowned, thinking back. It had seemed as if decision to return home had been his own, brought about by loneliness and…and what? He couldn’t remember. He only knew that he had felt an overpowering need to return home. He had even bartered away his extra furlough to switch places with the man who was supposed to take his leave this month. Why? What had possessed him? Had it really been Anona’s call? Had her magic indeed reached all of the way to the palace? If so, then she must have known her own death was imminent. He shuddered. He all too well knew that feeling.

55

Tears of Gold

Chapter Five

M

errick struggled up the last slope to the top of the hill he climbed. He’d left Tarad, Mielle and the children behind with the intent on scouting out the easiest passage up the rocky hillside. He hadn’t found anything easy. The shale was slippery, the handholds non-existent. There was no way to ride a horse at this grade, and he wondered how the two small children would ever make it up if they had to walk. He’d fallen dozens of times, losing his footing as the shale slid and crumbled beneath him. Now, sporting numerous cuts and bruises, he finally reached the peak and collapsed to stare out over the landscape that spread before him. It was disheartening. To the west, rolling grasslands stretched out as far as he could see. Far off to his left, the main branch of the Orma River flowed through rapids to the valley. Beyond that, he thought he could make out some sort of structures, perhaps the village of Ossey. It was bigger than Merrick remembered it, and closer than the palace. Perhaps they could go there, find a place of safety. Perhaps Ambrose was there. The thought sent butterflies to Merrick’s gut, and he winced. He should not even be thinking of Ambrose in that way, should not be longing to see the young man once again, to hear his 56

Dana Erikson

laughter, see the mischief in the blue eyes. Ambrose was a child, just a child. He sighed, scrubbed at his eyes and looked to his right. There was nothing, and he sat back, perplexed, then started when Tarad appeared out of the rocks. His sword was in his hands within seconds. Tarad stared at the weapon, drawing back, his face alarmed. “Merrick?” “I’m sorry,” Merrick said, resheathing the weapon. “Training sometimes takes over.” Tarad studied him a moment. “And yet I came almost upon you before you noticed.” Merrick felt the color rush to his face, and he averted his gaze. How often had he heard just such words at the academy? How often had he failed at his assessments because his mind had been elsewhere? And it always came down to the same thing: Ambrose. He clenched his jaw, and turned away. “I’m sorry,” Tarad said quietly. “I shouldn’t have—” “No,” Merrick interrupted, with more anger than he’d intended. “No, you are right. I was inattentive. If you had been the enemy, likely my blood would be staining these rocks by now.” Tarad hesitated, then spoke again. “Perhaps you have other things on your mind to—” At that, Merrick whirled to face him, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword in fury. “Other things, Tarad? Such as? Perhaps you’d like to be a bit more blunt.” 57

Tears of Gold

Tarad flushed, but his eyes flashed with his own anger. “Apologies, Merrick. Perhaps the seven years of separation have done more to our friendship that I at first realized.” He turned away, then stopped when Merrick gripped his arm. “Tarad, wait,” Merrick said softly, his anger diffused. “The years of separation have done nothing more than to make me cynical, sharp-tongued and unsure. I had hoped to return to Orma with the same ease with which I had left it. That was naive. But one thing that has not changed in those seven years, Tarad. I have not forgotten whom I call friend. I apologize for my anger. It was undeserved. In fact, I am not angry with you at all. Only myself, for once again I allowed—” He broke off, unsure how to phrase what he felt. Tarad turned to face him. For a moment, he merely regarded Merrick thoughtfully, then he reached out and gripped the man’s shoulder. “Merrick, you do yourself no service to push your feelings aside. Perhaps if you accept this love you have for Ambrose, embrace it, you will find peace with it.” “I love Ambrose as a brother, Tarad. Nothing more,” Merrick said, although his words rang hollow. “And as a brother, his protection is paramount in my mind. Perhaps I should not have left here, left him. In retrospect, he might have been safer with me at the academy. Yet, I felt it wrong to take him from his mother’s hearth and arms. He is a child, Tarad.” Tarad shook his head, his dark eyes full of 58

Dana Erikson

amazement. “And are you also a child, Merrick?” Merrick frowned, puzzled. “I...don’t consider myself as such. Why?” “How old are you?” Tarad asked. “Twenty-four, almost twenty-five.” “And seven years ago, Ambrose was eleven. Now, he is eighteen. Is that not a man?” Merrick recoiled as if he’d been cuffed alongside the head. He knew where Tarad was heading with this, but if he accepted Ambrose as a man, then he must also accept that Ambrose was able to make his own decisions as to his sexual preferences. And what if those were no longer where the eleven-year-old boy had thought them to be? What if Ambrose had matured enough to realize he no longer desired men? What if it had been merely a case of looking up to Merrick as an older brother figure? Merrick could not accept Ambrose as a man until he knew of Ambrose’s choice. It was far better for the heart to remember Ambrose as a child, out of reach emotionally and physically. There was less pain in that. He turned away from Tarad, and gestured feebly with his hand. “Rejoin your family, Tarad. I’ll be along shortly.” Tarad hesitated a moment, then did as bade, leaving Merrick alone in the gray rocks. For long moments, Merrick remained still, then he uttered a soft epithet and began to climb, pulled upward by some unexplained force. At last, he rounded a rocky outcropping and stopped. From here, he could see for leagues. A massive structure in the distance caught 59

Tears of Gold

his attention, and he squinted into the sunshine, then brought one hand up to shadow his eyes. Far out on the western plains, there looked to be mounds of dirt piled about. From this distance, Merrick could see no activity, could not tell what the mounds were. He frowned, feeling something shift inside him. That place...it was calling to him...almost beckoning... He took a step forward, slipped on the loose rock and caught himself, as if waking from a trance. For a long moment, he stood, trying to analyze what had just happened, but he could not. With a sigh, he began his descent back to Tarad and the others. He reached them, hot and sweaty, and mopped at his face. “Well?” Tarad asked, looking up at him. “When did Ossey get so big?” Merrick asked, accepting the waterskin from Mielle. A strange look crossed Tarad’s face before he answered. “It’s...it’s been doing well with horse racing, I understand.” “Horse racing? Out there? Seems a bit arid. But maybe we can find a place there for—” “No!” Tarad said at once, straightening from where he’d been sitting. He took Merrick by the elbow and steered him away from Mielle and the children. Only when they were out of earshot did he continue. “Ossey’s not a place for children, Merrick. Do you remember those rumors of slavery? They come from Ossey. Apparently it’s under the rule of some warlord. He’s...um, he’s begun a new sport called 60

Dana Erikson

pony racing.” “So?” Merrick shrugged his shoulders, confused. “Merrick, the ponies are human. They’re slaves. Young, male mostly, although I’ve heard of a few women as well.” Merrick stared at him in shock. “They ride humans? How? I mean —” “No, the ponies pull racing carts. They compete against each other.” Merrick relaxed. “Well, that’s not such a new thing, Tarad. Chariot races and athletic sport have always— ” “Merrick!” Tarad interrupted. “You don’t understand. It’s not just a show of strength, it’s a show of domination. These men are slaves. Slaves who are humiliated and abused. If they don’t perform, they’re put to death. It’s not something I want Adowe or Rose to see. And I certainly don’t want to take a chance on being enslaved by any of those men. We can’t go there.” Merrick grimaced, his thoughts tumbling. “Twice you’ve mentioned slavery.” Tarad winced. “It’s only rumor.” “Rumor that has you frightened enough not to venture in that direction,” Merrick pointed out. “Aye,“ Tarad whispered. Merrick hesitated, then rubbed at his neck, looking north. “I had hoped to use the trees for cover, but the steep rise won’t allow that. Instead, we’ll head east, towards the palace. I can see you, Mielle and the 61

Tears of Gold

children put up there.” “But Ambrose?” “I’ll come back to search for him once I know you are all safe. Besides, I need to talk to Phator, tell him of the slavery rumor. He should know.” Tarad winced. “Just don’t mention my name, in case I’m wrong.” He sighed. “Ambrose has been gone for months, Merrick. I could ride on by myself. You could—” “No!” Merrick interrupted. “My arrival in Orma was the cause of your departure. I’ll not have your suffering on my conscience either.” “But—” “No! I’m not going to argue over it any longer. I’ll escort you, Mielle and the children to the palace. End of discussion. Now then, is there any hardtack left for breakfast?” Tarad gave him a small smile. “You’re a stubborn man, Merrick Underson.” He shook his head, and gestured toward camp. “Mielle brought some oat bars. They’re much better than hardtack. Come on.” The two men walked back to the others. Merrick accepted an oat bar from Mielle and bit into it, his gaze on the children. Adowe was sitting near the colt, absently stroking its leg, while Rose was curled up in a blanket near the small fire. His gaze shifted to Mielle, who was just as silent and withdrawn. He yearned to see her smile, to see the grief purged from her dark eyes. A sudden clattering of hooves on stone brought 62

Dana Erikson

him to his feet, Tarad following. Merrick darted to a boulder, crouched down and peered over it. Just down the hillside, no more than shouting distance, a column of men rode through the rocks, their path sure. They bore the flag of the king, and Merrick was about to hail them when Tarad came up beside him and gripped his arm in alarm. “No,” Tarad breathed. Merrick started, his gaze flying back to the men. “No? Those are king’s men. They carry the—” “I don’t care what they carry,” Tarad interrupted. “Those are the same men who...” He broke off. Merrick stared at the men, stunned. They were going single-file now, picking their way carefully over the rocks, disappearing one by one into a cleft in the boulders. None looked his way, obviously sure of their own isolation. “Are you sure?” he whispered. Tarad nodded. “I saw them in town afterwards.” “But they’re heading towards Ossey.” “I know.” Merrick clenched his hand, rage swelling through him. Here were the very men who had violated Ambrose, and Merrick could do nothing about it. At least, not yet. He watched, studying each man’s face as they passed, burning it into his memory. He would find them, all of them. And they would answer to their crimes. He waited until the last man had vanished, then he scooted down the rocks, back toward Mielle and the children, thankful none of 63

Tears of Gold

them had made a sound. “We need to move,” he said quietly. Mielle reached out to quench the fire, but Merrick stopped her. “No, it can burn out on its own. Just clear away the brush so it has no fuel. I don’t want to send any smoke up, not until we’re far away.” She nodded, but fear stood in her eyes. Silently, she began to brush the area around the fire clean. Adowe looked up as Merrick approached. Merrick smiled and hunkered down before the little boy. “Do you want to ride Asher again today?” Adowe sighed and shook his head. “I wanna go home.” The plaintive tone in his voice almost made Merrick wince. How could he tell the child that he might not be seeing home for a good long while? He forced a smile to his lips. “But would you like to go to the king’s palace first?” Adowe’s eyes went wide. “The palace? They got lots of sojurs and horses there?” “Hundreds,” Merrick said. “And you know what else they have? Swans. Do you know what those are?” Adowe shook his head, and Merrick continued. “They’re magical birds, Adowe, with a long, beautiful neck and snowy white feathers. And they’ll eat straight from your hand.” “Really?” Adowe breathed. “Really,” Merrick said, and held out his hand. “But 64

Dana Erikson

we have to leave now and ride a long way to get to them. All right?” Adowe nodded, then pulled on Merrick’s hand. “I tell Rosie ‘bout magic birds?” Merrick smiled. “Yes, of course.” He watched the little boy scamper over to Rose, then turned at a gentle touch on his shoulder. Mielle was standing behind him. She rose on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For?” “For being you, Merrick. Just for being you.” She smiled at him, then walked away to pack up their meager belongings. Merrick watched her with heavy heart. He had often wondered why her gentle touches, her caresses, her kind words hadn’t pierced his heart when he was younger. True, they had both been but children, but there were others in the village who were quite passionate at the tender age of thirteen. But not me. Not me. No, I find my heart aching for one of my own kind. He sighed when he saw Tarad take Mielle into his arms for a brief hug and kiss, and his thoughts once more went to Ambrose. Where was he? Was he all right? Merrick refused to let the tiny voice of terror speak any louder than it already was. It was already saying things he didn’t want to think about. He shuddered as Tarad’s words came back to him. ‘They forced him, and afterwards, they tried to castrate him, Merrick. Right there, in the 65

Tears of Gold

open field.’ He shook the thoughts aside and turned to helping Tarad and Mielle close up the small camp. Within the half hour, the small group was once more on the trail, heading away from the mountains, and all the while, Merrick felt as if he were abandoning Ambrose.

66

Dana Erikson

Chapter Six lurked in the shadows, watching the Andrus muscles ripple across Ambrose’s shoulders as he dug in the hard earth. The sun was harsh, having already left its mark in the red skin of the young man’s neck and exposed arms. Only a thin, dirty work shirt kept the rest of his back from blistering. Sweat coated him, mixing with the dust being churned up by his actions. Andrus watched as he stopped, wiped at his face, took a quick swig of water and bent again to his task. It was then that Andrus slid from his hiding place. In one swift movement, he placed himself tightly against Ambrose’s backside, bringing a gasp of startlement from the young man. The shovel hit the ground with a soft thud, and Ambrose jerked aside, then whirled. Andrus grinned at him. “Surprise,” he said softly. “M...M’Lord,” Ambrose stammered, his face flushed. His gaze darted frantically about, then came back to Andrus’. “What...what are you doing out here?” “Watching,” Andrus said, annoyed and yet enticed by the fact that just being this close could cause him such excitement. Already he could feel his penis tightening, hardening, and he had barely touched the 67

Tears of Gold

man. He flicked his hand. “Continue.” Ambrose licked his lips, then slowly bent and retrieved his shovel. He gave Andrus one last look, then returned to his task, admittedly with a wariness that set Andrus’ heart humming. Andrus clasped his hands behind his back, and walked around the working man, watching his every movement. Watching the way his shoulders flexed, his legs moved, his buttocks...he shook himself, cursing softly. Let it last this time, he scolded himself. Don’t be so anxious. Half the fun is anticipation. He drew a long, slow breath and once more slid into the coolness of the shadows. His gaze slid over his surroundings, although what he searched for he wasn’t sure. Until he saw it. A smile curved his lips, and a vicious warm streak swelled through him. Perfect. Someone, maybe even Ambrose, had set up a bench of some sort in the shade for moments of respite from the incessant heat. The bench was made with discarded lumber, uneven, wide and set on several boulders. Andrus walked over to it, measured the height, then grinned. Perfect. Once more he stopped Ambrose’s work, but this time it was by reaching out and grabbing a handful of hair. Ambrose yelped, losing his balance as Andrus yanked backward. Ambrose struggled to regain his feet, but Andrus used his much larger physique to keep the young man down. He saw Ambrose’s gaze flick to the whip, saw the fear in this eyes. Yes, it was perfect. 68

Dana Erikson

“Stand,” he ordered, and released his hold. Ambrose got to his feet, his breathing ragged. Andrus motioned towards the shadowed area. “Go on, over there.” Ambrose’s gaze flicked to the area, back to his surrounding, then back to Andrus. And suddenly, he lunged. While Andrus had not really been expecting an attack, he nonetheless was prepared. He caught Ambrose square on, falling with him to the ground, his arms wrapped tightly about the young man. They struggled fiercely for a few moments, but Ambrose, in his weakened state, was no match for Andrus. Moments later, Andrus lay atop him, pinning him to the ground, holding both wrists in one large, strong hand. He smiled, and traced one finger down Ambrose’s cheek. “That was fun, Ambrose,” he whispered, and pressed his erection against Ambrose’s gut. “See what you did?” He thrust against Ambrose, his face inches away from his. He saw the man wince, and wondered what lay beneath him. Most likely some sharp stones from the pit he’d been digging. He thrust again, this time eliciting a grunt of pain. “So, now that you’ve got me all worked up, Ambrose,” he murmured, tightening his grip on the man’s wrists, “what will you do to help me relax?” He thrust again, this time harder, and Ambrose yelped, struggling weakly against him. Andrus brought his mouth down on Ambrose’s, crushing the man’s head into the dirt. Ambrose tried 69

Tears of Gold

to resist, tried to turn his head, but it was trapped between his own two arms. Andrus sucked in Ambrose’s bottom lip and bit, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to stop Ambrose’s thrashing about. The young man lay gasping beneath him. Each rise and fall of his chest only served to heighten Andrus’ excitement. He thrust again, then again, each move more vicious than the last. He drove his tongue into Ambrose’s mouth, then abruptly drew back with a yelp when Ambrose bit—hard—leaving him to taste his own blood. He tumbled off of Ambrose into the dirt. Ambrose scrambled out from beneath him, but didn’t get far. Andrus snagged him by one ankle, and yanked, sending Ambrose sprawling to the hard ground. This time, Andrus straddled his backside, one hand grabbing fistfuls of blond hair. He was tempted to drive Ambrose’s face into the ground, to make him taste blood as well, then thought better of that. He didn’t want to mar the beautiful face. His gaze traveled to the blood on Ambrose’s back, and with one swift movement, he tore the shirt aside. He had been correct—Ambrose had been lying on sharp stones. Two or three had pierced his back, leaving ugly, bloody holes. Anger swelled through Andrus. He had not wanted to damage the man. Did not want to now. He staggered to his feet, pulling Ambrose up with him. Keeping his hand tightly coiled in Ambrose’s hair, he dragged the man toward the bench, then pushed him over it. 70

Dana Erikson

Ambrose struggled once again, but this time Andrus would have none of it. He cuffed the young man soundly, and Ambrose went limp, arms and legs draping over either side of the bench. Andrus tore the sash from his robes, knelt and quickly, efficiently, tied Ambrose’s wrists to his knees, making him immobile. Once accomplished, Andrus sat back to collect himself. The struggle, the anger, had effectively killed his erection, and he wanted it back. But just looking at Ambrose, semi-conscious, was not doing it. He wanted the man aware, alert, responsive. He sought out the waterskin and poured the water over Ambrose’s neck and head. The young man came to with a gasp. He tried to move, found he could not, and a whimper actually escaped him. That was more like it, Andrus thought, grinning. His gaze fell on a fly switch lying nearby. Normally used to whisk pesky stinging flies aside, the dozen or so leather strips attached to a stout handle could be used other ways. Ways that sent his heart humming once again, and brought his penis awake. A moment later, the whip was in his hands. He hunkered down so Ambrose could see him—and the whip. “You defied me, Ambrose,” he said softly. “Have you forgotten who is master here and who is slave?” He laughed at the resigned look that swept over Ambrose’s face. “From here on out, Ambrose, you will not call me Lord. You will address me as master. Is that clear?” 71

Tears of Gold

Ambrose nodded weakly. “Excuse me?” Andrus mocked, cupping one ear. “Yes, Master,” Ambrose muttered. Andrus chuckled. “I like the sound of that.” He caressed the leather whip gently. “Now, since we’ve established that fact, that you are slave and I am your master, then we should also address how you have defied me. Do you now agree that such defiance requires punishment?” Ambrose said nothing, but averted his gaze. “Answer me,” Andrus said. Ambrose swallowed. “Yes, Master.” “I thought you would agree.” He rose, positioning himself behind Ambrose. He let the whip ends dangle lightly on Ambrose’s exposed back, caressing and tickling, until he saw a shudder run through the young man. Then, with sudden force, he drew back and snapped all twelve strips across Ambrose’s skin. The young man yelped, arching back as much as he could in his tied position. Andrus struck again, this time harder, watching in fascination as red welts swelled. He would have struck a third time, but suddenly remembered that he didn’t want to mar the skin any further than it had been. With a smirk, he grasped the edge of Ambrose’s breeches and pulled them down about his ankles, exposing the man’s buttocks. Perfect. The marks would be hidden to all save him. He brought the whip down sharply, drawing another yelp. His penis leapt to full erection at the sound. 72

Dana Erikson

He brought the whip down again, watching the welts swell, mesmerized by the intricate design he was creating. After the sixth strike, he reached out and caressed the welts, running his fingers over them, following each one, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. One finger slipped into the crack of Ambrose’s buttocks, toward his anus. He felt the muscles tighten like a shield being brought up. It excited him further and he pushed one finger inside. Ambrose grunted in pain, shifting his position on the bench, trying to evade the intrusion. Andrus pulled back, spat on his fingers and drove two inside, nearly ejaculating at the moan Ambrose uttered. “Please, Master,” Ambrose begged. “Please?” Andrus purred, drew back and pushed again, this time harder. He was rewarded with a louder groan. “You were so good with your hands and mouth, I would have thought you were also used to this. So, it’s not true then? I’m the first to enter this forbidden zone?” “Master,” Ambrose rasped, squirming. “I have had no lovers.” “Then I shall be the first,” Andrus whispered. He pushed his robes aside, dropped the whip, gripped Ambrose by the hips and thrust inside the delicious, tight warmth. Ambrose’s scream echoed off the hillsides.

73

Tears of Gold

Chapter Seven

M

errick wiped his brow, then gestured forward. “There. Do you see it, Adowe?” The little boy sat up straighter in the saddle, straining forward. “No, I seed nothing.” “Well, here.” Merrick lifted the child up higher, although his tired muscles screamed in protest. It had been three days of hard riding, pushing the children beyond their endurance. Still, Merrick was astounded at how well they had taken the punishing pace. True, they had been offered all sorts of bribes and promises, not the least of which was dinner with the king himself. Merrick wondered how he would pull that one off, but had decided to worry over it later. Maybe they would forget once they were surrounded with the grandeur of being in the capital city. “I seed it!” Adowe now shrieked, his whole body quivering with his sudden excitement. “Rose! Look. It’s the place!” Merrick smiled. “The palace,” he corrected, settling the boy back in front of him. He looked over as Tarad guided his horse closer. “We should be there by nightfall.” “Praise the gods for that,” Mielle whispered, leaning back against Tarad in obvious relief. Merrick looked at the little girl held firmly in her 74

Dana Erikson

grip. Rose had gone back to hiding in Mielle’s gentle embrace, leaving Adowe to ride with Merrick. The little boy hadn’t been happy about the whole thing until Merrick once again allowed him to ‘steer’ Asher. Now that they had stopped, however, he suddenly decided that it was his turn to be with his mother, and Rose didn’t seem to be eager to give up her place of comfort. Adowe broke into shrieks of anger and frustration, obviously having had his fill of sharing his mother. Merrick thought quickly, digging into his pack. He drew out a long strip of white cloth, emblazoned with the letter P, King Phator’s initial. It was a standard chevron, on a smaller version, that every soldier was required to carry with him at all times, even on furlough. It was a ready identification in any part of the kingdom. That, and the signet ring that could be used to seal messages. Now, he tied the chevron to a short stick he also kept in the bag, and turned to Adowe. “I need your help,” he said, his tone serious. “Go ‘way,” the little boy sobbed. Merrick sighed. “Do you want to be with your mama?” Adowe nodded, and Merrick continued. “Then I need your help. I need someone who can tell the people inside the palace that we can come in there. I need someone tall to hold this up so they can see it.” He held the flag out. “I not tall,” Adowe mumbled, wiping at his face. “If you were up there,” Merrick said, pointing to 75

Tears of Gold

Tarad’s shoulders, “you would be quite tall. Then you would be the first one the people in the palace saw. You would be telling them all that we were coming, and that they should open the gates for us.” Adowe looked skeptical, but Tarad abruptly lifted the child to his shoulders. Merrick looked up at him, as if in awe. “You are very tall,” he said. He held up the flag. “Can you hold this up? Why, I’ll bet they can see you already.” Adowe took the flag and held it up, then waved it back and forth. Merrick shaded his eyes and looked in the direction of the palace. “Watch for a bright light,” he said. “They will make a flash. That will tell us they’ve seen us and are waiting. Can you tell me when you see the bright light?” Adowe nodded, seemingly having forgotten all about needing to displace Rose on his mother’s lap. Tarad gave a small smile, and winked at Merrick in thanks. Merrick gathered up Asher’s leads. “Let’s go, then,” he said. “And make sure you tell me, Adowe. It shouldn’t be too long before they see you way up there.” “I will,” the little boy returned, his own tone one of authority. Still, it was almost dark when the flash of light came, reflecting feebly off the setting sun. “I seed it!” Adowe cried excitement in his voice. “I seed the light!” 76

Dana Erikson

“Excellent!” Merrick retorted. “That means they’ve seen us and we’re welcome.” “And I seed the magic birds now?” Adowe asked. Merrick frowned, then suddenly remembered his story of the swans. “Yes, in the morning. They’re probably asleep now. And you’ll get to sleep in a big, soft bed tonight.” He heard a sigh of relief from Mielle and grinned. “And so will your mama and papa.” Mielle smiled at him, although there was a depth of grief in her eyes that would not soon be leaving. Merrick reached out and squeezed her hand, then led the small group down the wide path toward the palace gates. He was admitted easily, welcomed back by his comrades. It didn’t take much to procure a room in one of the outbuildings for Tarad, Mielle and the children. By this time, Adowe was over-excited and dashed from bed to fireplace to window, chattering wildly. Rose, by contrast, only sighed when placed on one of the beds. Mielle covered her with a blanket, smoothed her hair back and kissed her forehead. The little girl was asleep in moments. “Rest easy,” Merrick told Tarad. “I need to report in first, then I’ll be bunking in the soldiers’ housing.” “And tomorrow?” Tarad asked. “Will you be leaving early?” “I don’t know. It depends on my orders. I still have several weeks of furlough left, but things may change once I tell King Phator about Ossey and the situation there.” 77

Tears of Gold

Tarad winced. “Please do remember that I have nothing to substantiate the rumors, Merrick.” Merrick smiled. “You’ve said that. More than once. I understand. So will he. Trust me. I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to snag Adowe as the little boy darted past, then hunkered down to look into Adowe’s dark eyes. “I want to thank you for helping me so much out there, Adowe. You were truly a soldier. But now I need you to do one more thing. I need you to get some sleep. A good soldier knows when to quiet down and rest. I promise that tomorrow you will get to see everything here. If you’re too tired, you might miss something. So, bed?” Adowe seemed to think on that for a second, then shrugged and tumbled into the bed provided for him. Merrick grinned and straightened, then caught Mielle’s look. He shook his head, put a finger to his lips and slipped out of the room, leaving the family alone. He had hoped to bathe and change before he was summoned, but that was not to be. A page accosted him the moment he set foot in the bunkhouse. “Lieutenant Underson,” the young man said, his voice crisp. “King Phator wishes to see you at once.” Merrick looked down at his dirty clothes, then ran a hand over his stubbled chin. He imagined he looked a sight. Still, a direct order from the king could not be ignored. He nodded, then gestured at the bunkhouse. “Fetch me a diddy bag,” he instructed. “I can shave as I walk.” 78

Dana Erikson

“At once, Lieutenant,” the boy replied, giving a curt tip of his head. Merrick turned his steps toward the palace, taking it slow, buying himself time. But the page was back at his side in just moments, already swirling a brush in some shaving cream. He danced in front of Merrick, slathered the cream on his face and reached out with straight blade. “Whoa!” Merrick cried, holding up one hand. The boy grinned. “Don’t worry. My father is a barber. He taught me all I know.” He made a quick swipe with the blade, running it easily down Merrick’s cheek. Merrick reached up, expecting blood and felt only smooth, beard-free skin. He smiled and nodded. By the time he reached the palace steps, he was cleanshaven, all traces of the cream gone. He thanked the boy, took his name for further reward, straightened his clothing and stepped into the main hall. Another page bowed, then escorted him to the private chamber where he would meet with Phator. Phator turned on him at once, flicked his hand at the page, and waited. Merrick bowed low, sensing the king’s displeasure, but not at leisure to speak first. Phator approached him, circled him, assessed him for injury, then grunted and strode toward a sideboard where he poured two glasses of brandy. He held one out to Merrick. “You look like you need this. Care to tell me why you slipped out like you did? I’ve a good mind to set your ass in a gaol cell to cool for a 79

Tears of Gold

few days.” Merrick accepted the brandy, hearing more worry than anger in the king’s voice. “My apologies, Sire. I simply feared I would never actually set forth on my furlough what with all of your—” “Fussing?” Phator interrupted. Merrick didn’t correct him, but took a sip of his brandy. It slid smoothly down his throat, and warmed his belly. Phator reached out and stroked Merrick’s freshly shaved face, lifting one eyebrow in question. “One of the pages,” Merrick explained. “Goes by the name of Radley. His father is a barber. Apparently he learned to shave and walk at the same time. Not sure why, exactly, but I’m thankful for it.” He reached up to rub at his own chin. “He does good work. I only wish I could have bathed and changed before coming here. I apologize for my appearance.” Phator smiled. “You look good no matter what, Merrick.” He set his brandy glass down, and took Merrick into his arms. “I’ve missed you. I’m glad you’re home safe.” Merrick hugged him back, keeping his brandy glass high to avoid spilling it on the king’s silken robes. “I’ve missed you, too, Sire. But I still have several weeks of furlough left. I would request to use them, if it pleases you.” Phator drew back. “Of course it doesn’t please me, but you’re entitled. Tell me, did you bring back that boy you were going to see?” 80

Dana Erikson

Merrick couldn’t stop his sigh of despair. “No. He was gone. Sire, I’m afraid I have upsetting news to share, as well.” “I don’t like the sound of that. Come, sit down, relax.” He motioned to an exquisitely carved and well-padded settee near the fire. “I’m so dirty, though,” Merrick pointed out. “Then strip,” Phator said. “I’ll get you a housecoat.” He turned to a tall armoire and pulled out a dark green robe, which he held out to Merrick. Merrick set his brandy on the small table, stripped off his dirty riding clothes, and let Phator settle the robe around him. It felt good, soft and comfortable, just as the room and the companionship did, and Merrick realized just how tired he was, both physically and mentally. He sank down on the settee. Phator reclaimed his own brandy and settled beside him. “This news?” Phator encouraged, taking another sip of his brandy. “Rumors at this point, Sire,” Merrick said. “It seems slavery may have taken hold in Ossey and townships west of the mountains.” “Slavery!” “Aye. And something called pony-racing. I suspect that the slaves are needed for that.” Phator shook his head. “I’ve never heard of this pony-racing. What is it?” By the time Merrick had explained what he knew, told about the imposters riding with the king’s standard, and about what had happened in Orma to 81

Tears of Gold

Ambrose, Danard, Joen, Ruth and Seth, the brandy had gone to his head, making him dizzy. Phator’s strong jaw was clenched in rage, his hand tight about his glass. He drained the last swallow at once. “How could anyone do that to a boy?” he demanded, flinging the glass aside. Merrick winced as the fine crystal shattered, raining sharp shards on the thick carpets. “I’ve been reminded that Ambrose is no longer a boy, Sire. He is now eighteen.” “That’s still a boy, Merrick,” Phator growled, then his gaze shifted, and he regarded Merrick thoughtfully. “But not to you, now, is he?” Merrick huffed out a sigh. “I don’t know, Colin,” he said, the king’s first name slipping out under the influence of the brandy and his own confusion. Phator smiled, and reached out to grip Merrick’s shoulder. “I always knew there would come a time that you would find someone for yourself, Merrick. I certainly don’t begrudge you that. Do you think this fellow would begrudge me my time with you?” At that, Merrick smiled, and reached up to take the king’s hand in his. “He is not mine, Colin. Not yet. And, even if he were, he would know of you, of our relationship. I wouldn’t want to end it just because of him. I doubt he would either. And you are the king. Your desires are not to be ignored.” “And that is all it would be, then?” Phator asked. “My orders, your obedience?” Merrick shook his head. “Of course not, M’Lord. 82

Dana Erikson

You have always given me leave to deny you. I never have.” He leaned forward, his inhibitions wiped clean by the alcohol on an empty stomach. Phator returned his kiss with a burning passion, then pushed him away. “Hate to tell you this, Merrick,” he said softly, “but you stink.” He got to his feet, extending his hand. “Come on. Bath, and then bed. And don’t give me that look. You can’t ride out until the morrow anyway. And this time, you aren’t going alone.” Merrick grinned, took his hand and let the king lead him into the bath chambers. He knew it would be a peaceful, love-filled night, even though his thoughts were far away and on Ambrose.

83

Tears of Gold

Chapter Eight sat back, sipping at his wine, his gaze Andrus wandering over the other men present. Most

were busily shoving food into their mouths, or slurping loudly on the abundant wine present. Wine that Andrus had provided to this gathering of his peers. Wine that was disappearing almost faster than the slaves could bring it from the cellars. There wasn’t much left of the sumptuous spread, either. Only greasy platters full of bones and dried edges of bread remained. Some of these had been tossed to the slaves who waited nearby for orders from their respective masters. Andrus’ gaze lingered on the slaves a moment, then was brought around by a roar of laughter from the portly man on his right. “You seem in good spirits, Drondo,” Andrus said dryly. “Indeed I am,” the man agreed, then poked Andrus in the forearm. “And what of you? You look very rested. Have you found yourself a man whore to keep you satisfied?” Andrus gave a small smile. “And if I had, would I be telling you? You’d try to buy him from me at first glimpse.” Drondo roared with laughter. “Only for a fortnight, Andrus, I assure you. I have my own pony to ride. 84

Dana Erikson

And he’s well hung enough that I’ll not be looking for a good long while. Shall I show you?” Andrus drew a resigned breath, knowing full well it would do no good to deny the man. Drondo turned and whistled sharply. At once, a lean young man separated himself from the other slaves and darted to Drondo’s side. He fell to his knee, head bowed. “Yes, M’Lord?” “Stand, boy,” Drondo ordered, and when the boy had, issued further instructions. “Drop your breeches. Show what you’ve got.” Although the boy reddened, he did as asked, drawing appreciative murmurs from the men closest. Andrus lifted one eyebrow, feigning disinterest, and took another sip of wine, although his own penis instantly reacted to the boy’s generous endowments. He looked away. “Very nice,” he said drolly. “A bit young, though, isn’t he?” At that, Drondo laughed. “They last longer that way.” He flicked his hand at the boy, dismissing him. Andrus watched as the boy hurriedly pulled up his breeches and scurried away. Andrus’ thoughts went to his own ‘pony,’ waiting in the stables. It was all he could do not to bolt for the front door and relief from his ever-growing arousal. He took another sip of wine, chagrined to see his hand trembling, then started when Drondo reached beneath the table and grasped him. He looked into the man’s eyes. “My slave could do much to dispel this,” Drondo 85

Tears of Gold

murmured, squeezing gently. “As could any one of mine,” Andrus replied, resisting the urge to slap the man’s hand away. He waited a moment, then leaned back, his wine glass held between two fingers. “Or perhaps you would like to dispel it yourself, Drondo.” The man smiled, but did not stop his ministrations. “You know I’ve always liked to see you squirm, Andrus.” Andrus took a sip of his wine, his gaze locked on Drondo’s. The sounds in the rest of the room faded out, shunted aside by this test of wills between the two men. Drondo’s seeking hands had found the folds in the robe and now reached beneath them. It was all Andrus could do to keep a gasp from escaping him. He knew he could not stop his body from responding—not with thoughts of Ambrose running through his mind—but he was still not going to give Drondo the satisfaction of pulling away first. He watched Drondo’s mouth pucker, his tongue peeking out between fat lips as if he were using that instead of his hand. A tremble ran through Andrus unbidden, and he squelched a moan with another drink of wine. It was more than he’d intended, however, and it went down the wrong way, throwing him into a sudden and violent coughing spasm. Drondo sat back, a smug smile on his face, as Andrus attempted to regain control. “This slave you hunger over, Andrus,” he said quietly, “perhaps he is really the master.” 86

Dana Erikson

Andrus could not answer through a yet constricted throat, but Drondo’s words burned as much as the wine had. The portly man laughed and raised his own wine glass in a mock toast. “To the slave who controls your genitals,” he said, and took a drink. Andrus glared at him, seething, but refused to give him more fuel. Instead, he turned the conversation, wincing as his voice came out as a squeaky croak. “So, are you grooming new ponies?” he asked. Drondo nodded. “Indeed, I am. Oh, not the specimen I showed you earlier. I wouldn’t want him damaged in any way, get something stomped on, if you get my drift. Why? Do you plan to enter this year?” “I had thought to do so,” Andrus said, glad to hear that his voice was normal again. He took a drink of water, calming the sting further. “I had thought you would bow out after your rather dismal showing last season,” Drondo said. Irritation tightened Andrus’ jaw. Last season had not gone well, but he didn’t need Drondo’s assessment of it to be reminded. He had lost a good deal of money in those races, money he had a difficult time recouping. He forced a calm to his voice. “That was last season. This is not. This time, I will have a pony adequate to the race.” “And this would be the same pony that brings such a rise from you?” Drondo teased. “Maybe,” Andrus said calmly. “Maybe not.” 87

Tears of Gold

Drondo laughed again. “Well, you have but two weeks to get him primed, decorated and trained, Andrus. Better put aside your other pastimes with him and get busy. Besides, Andrus, you know the rules. He cannot be both pony and pleasure.” He drained his wine glass and rose. “Well, our little adventure here, along with this excellent wine, has only furthered my own rise.” He swept his robe aside for a moment to show his massive erection, then turned away, whistling for his slave. Andrus watched the two of them disappear to one of the guest rooms upstairs, irritation nipping at him. What Drondo said was true—pony and pleasure did not mix. It was against racing regulations to have any sort of sexual contact with your pony. He would have to make a choice for Ambrose. Well, maybe he wouldn’t trial well, and that would solve the dilemma for Andrus. He sucked down the rest of his wine and got to his feet. Tomorrow he would find out. ****** Andrus entered the room briskly, hoping to keep business to business. But one sight of Ambrose, already laid flat on the stone slab, arms bound alongside his ears, legs tied to a large, iron hoop in the center of the table, almost changed his mind. Surely, a little pleasure first, then...he shook his head, drew a deep breath and strode forward. Pleasure would wait. Ambrose looked up at him, clearly agitated. 88

Dana Erikson

“Hello, Ambrose,” Andrus said cheerily. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here and in this position, too. Well, let me explain while I work.” He reached for a hose on the wall, bringing it over Ambrose’s chest. “Have you heard of pony racing, Ambrose?” Ambrose frowned. “Yes, Master, I...they race horses in Ossey on occasion.” “Oh, I didn’t say horses, Ambrose. I said ponies.” He pulled a lever on the wall and hot water surged through the hose. Ambrose gasped, trying in vain to move aside. Andrus sucked in his breath as Ambrose’s skin reddened, and his nipples hardened, standing erect. He shut off the water, and turned aside, taking more deep breaths to calm himself. He had to attend to business first, then maybe pleasure. Maybe. He had decided to go forth with the adornment first. If Ambrose were successful as a pony, he would be that much closer to being healed and ready for the preliminary heats. If he were not successful, well, then he would be nice to look at. Andrus picked up a bar of soap and a small brush, then turned back to Ambrose. He ran the soap over the young man’s chest, then followed with the brush, scrubbing firmly. Ambrose gritted his teeth and arched his back, obviously trying to evade the hard bristles that worked the soap into a lather over his tender nipples. Only when Andrus was sure they were really clean did he pull the lever once again, washing away the 89

Tears of Gold

soap and any dirt that might have lingered after the man’s earlier bath. He wanted Ambrose clean. It wouldn’t do to adorn and then have his prized possession die of infection. “Ponies, Ambrose,” he said, reaching under the stone slab. He pulled up a thick, heavy strap, laid it across Ambrose’s abdomen, and cinched it down on the other side, effectively stopping any side-to-side movement the man might make. “You’re a pony, Ambrose. My pony. I intend to race you.” “You want me to run, Master?” Ambrose asked. “Exactly!” Andrus smiled, pulling a tray towards him. On it gleamed a long, silver needle, a jar of sea salt, a small tub of disinfectant, and two gold barbell nipple shields fastened in a sunray design, with a golden loop hanging from the center. He noticed Ambrose’s look of terror and clucked his tongue. “It’s better if you don’t look.” He reached beside Ambrose’s head, pulled up another heavy strap and ran it across Ambrose’s forehead, trapping his arms as well. Once that was cinched, the man was completely immobile. “M...Master,” Ambrose stammered. “I...I don’t...what are you going to do?” “Adorn you, Ambrose. You are my pony. I need to make sure you present well. The race isn’t just about who comes in first, you know. It’s about presentation as well. I often call you my Golden Boy, due to your sun-brown skin and your blond hair. I thought tying that in with the sun’s design was only appropriate.” 90

Dana Erikson

He held out the two nipple shields, admiring them, then held them before Ambrose. “Lovely, aren’t they? I had them specially made, just for you.” He put them down and picked up the swab that had been standing in the disinfectant. He brushed the cold liquid onto Ambrose’s nipples, watching them tighten. Perfect. He picked up the needle, looked into Ambrose’s eyes a moment, then pierced his right nipple with one sure stroke. Ambrose merely gasped, then gritted his teeth as Andrus fit the barbell that would hold the sunray design for all to see. Andrus carefully wiped away the blood. “Well, that went well, I think,” he said, and picked up the second barbell. He swabbed the needle and positioned it, then paused, his gaze moving to Ambrose’s face. The young man was staring at him, hate clouding the blue eyes. Hate! The mere idea sent anger ripping through Andrus, and he deliberately took his time with the piercing of the second nipple, easing the needle slowly through the skin, watching pain replace the hate in Ambrose’s eyes. He was just as slow and deliberate about placing the barbell, but it was only when he swabbed both nipples with the disinfectant that he finally brought a cry of pain from Ambrose. “There we go,” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “They’re beautiful, Ambrose, much like you.” His gaze fell on Ambrose’s flaccid penis, and he reached out to stroke it. It was not quite as 91

Tears of Gold

large as Drondo’s slave’s had been, but it was near to perfect in Andrus’ view. Still, he had not yet had the pleasure of seeing it full and erect. He might never, if Ambrose trialed well. He thought to reconsider even going forth with his plans, then remembered Drondo’s taunt, remembered the fact that the portly lord had outrun him in every race for the last two seasons. Andrus knew Ambrose could run, had seen him do so. He felt sure that Ambrose could win in the races. And winning in the races would further Andrus’ financial holdings. That set well with him. Very well. Still, that meant losing Ambrose as a sexual submissive, and Andrus wasn’t sure he wanted to do that either. True, he had other slaves. But they weren’t Ambrose. Frustrated and aroused, he spun and strode from the room, nearly colliding with one of his house slaves in the corridor outside. He flicked one hand at the room housing Ambrose. “Untether him and put him in my infirmary. And send Talim to my room!” He stormed away, Drondo’s toast still ringing in his ears—to the slave who controls your genitals. Well, he would show Ambrose who the master was, who commanded whose arousal. He wouldn’t risk rough sex with Ambrose now, not when his nipples must heal without infection. But the time would come. Until then, Talim would do his bidding, even gaining an erection that would satisfy Andrus’ hunger. ****** 92

Dana Erikson

Andrus studied the nipple shields with a critical eye, then smiled and looked up at Ambrose. “They’re healing well,” he said. “In fact, so well that I think we can get on with the training.” “Training?” Ambrose whispered. Andrus cast him a hard look. “I heard no title mentioned, Ambrose. Don’t make me force it from you.” “I’m sorry, Master,” Ambrose said, although he sounded far from contrite. Andrus sighed. He would have to teach Ambrose how to obey without question. It was imperative if he were to win in the races, and he had less than two weeks to do it. With a sigh, he picked up the collar lying on the table. It was a wide one, with a long strap attached to it. The strap had numerous rings attached to it, all destined for restraints of one kind or the other. “Turn around,” he instructed, then actually drew back when Ambrose refused. “You defy me yet again?” He shook his head. “Must I bring in my guards to force you to do my bidding, Ambrose?” He lifted one hand, ready to signal his guards, then saw the resignation flit through Ambrose’s eyes. The young man turned around as instructed, his head bowed in defeat. Andrus smiled and placed the collar about Ambrose’s neck. Due to the collar’s height, Ambrose was made to stand tall, head erect and proud, just as a 93

Tears of Gold

stallion should stand. Andrus placed a wide leather cuff on each of Ambrose’s wrists, drew his arms back and attached the cuffs to one of the rings on the backstrap. A second strap went about Ambrose’s waist. This would hold the chariot handles in place, and thus had to be a snug fit so the weight of the chariot wouldn’t draw it down. Ambrose let out a grunt of pain as Andrus tightened the belt, then clicked it onto the same back strap. Andrus picked up the loin cover and caressed it gently. He had debated on which one to use. Numerous ponies ran free with their penis and testicles exposed or held in check with lacings or rings. But Andrus had long felt that the genitals should be supported, covered and protected to keep them from injury. Still, there was a twinge of regret when he clipped the leather covering to the waist belt and let it fall, hiding Ambrose’s endowments. “Turn around,” Andrus ordered. Ambrose glanced at him, eyes full of suspicion and trepidation. It was a look that Andrus was getting used to, a look he liked. He made a turning motion in the air with his finger, then smiled when Ambrose obeyed. He nudged Ambrose’s legs apart, then pulled the split leather strap between them. He reached around Ambrose to make sure the strap ran along his groin, not pinching his testicles, which were trapped between the two lengths of leather. For just a moment, his needs got the better of him, and he gently fondled Ambrose. Although the young man’s 94

Dana Erikson

upper torso stiffened, his penis did not, no matter how attentive Andrus was with his hands. Irritation coursed through Andrus and he had a quick thought to toss Ambrose over the nearest rail and answer his own needs, but he forced the thoughts aside. He couldn’t risk it, not now, not with the race so close. Frustrated, he yanked on the strap, watching it disappear into the crack between Ambrose’s buttocks. Ambrose grimaced, but made no sound. Irritation turning to anger, Andrus pulled the strap up another loop. Only when he finally heard a moan of pain did he clip it off. He knew it would be hard for Ambrose to walk, harder yet to run when he was so bound, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He would show this impertinent young man who was in charge. He grabbed for the rubber bit that lay on the table, and forced it between Ambrose’s lips. The two leads were meant to slip through loops on the leather headcovering, but Andrus had other ideas. He knew of a much better way to get the man to move in the direction he wished. He slipped one lead through each of the loops on the nipple ring, then laid them loosely over Ambrose’s shoulders. “Now, then,” he said quietly. “We’re quite ready for a trial ride.” He picked up a riding crop and snapped it sharply across Ambrose’s buttocks. “Walk.” Ambrose obeyed, shuffling forward, hampered by the straps. Andrus followed. He pulled the left lead, and Ambrose dutifully turned left. The 95

Tears of Gold

right lead yielded the same response. This was almost too easy, and Andrus chuckled to himself. He walked Ambrose towards the stall. “Stop here,” he said, and pulled back on both leads. These he attached to a hook on the wall, then went into the nearest stall and pulled out the chariot. He saw Ambrose eye the contraption with question, but did not explain. Instead, he lifted the metal bars and hooked them securely onto the waist strap, snugging it tighter to make sure it would stay in place. Once that was accomplished, he again more took up the leads, settled himself on the cushioned seat and snapped the whip across bare skin. “Walk,” he commanded. Ambrose started off, then stopped, his hands balled into fists at his back. Andrus grinned. “If you had not been so defiant, those straps would be looser. Next time, remember that. Now walk!” He snapped the whip again, forcing Ambrose to shuffle along, dragging cart and rider behind him. After a turn about the arena, Andrus struck his backside again. “Run!” Ambrose started to run, then stumbled forward, caught up by the chariot’s sidebars. Andrus cracked the whip again, watching a welt rise on Ambrose’s white skin. “Run!” he ordered again, and this time Ambrose did. The cart flew across the arena, sending giddy delight through Andrus. He had a pony! 96

Dana Erikson

Chapter Nine

M

errick sighed, then glanced at the men awaiting his next order. He wasn’t all that happy with such a contingent of soldiers at his command, but Phator had insisted. Merrick had spent only two days in the palace, resting, eating, spending time with Tarad, Mielle and the children, and of course, receiving and giving pleasure to the king. He had been able to arrange the dinner with Phator that he had promised Adowe, and now felt he held a place of honor in the little boy’s mind. It brought a small smile even now, despite his unhappiness at the men behind him. He didn’t see how he could go into Ossey—or any other township, for that matter—and find out what he needed to find out with all of these men in attendance. Here, in the foothills overlooking Ossey, he decided to make his stand. He dismounted, stretching sore limbs, and watched as his troops dismounted. His first sergeant came forward at once, and saluted, question in his eyes. “We’ll camp here,” Merrick said. “I’m riding on alone.” He silenced a protest with an upraised hand. “I’ve made my decision. You’ll stay camped here until I send for you.” “And how will you send for us, if you go alone?” 97

Tears of Gold

Tarad asked, striding forward. Merrick sighed and turned toward his friend. He had not wanted Tarad along on this journey, but the man had insisted, even pleading his case to King Phator. Phator had been only too eager to make sure that Merrick was well protected, and if that meant sending along someone whom Merrick couldn’t order about, he was more than willing. Merrick dismissed his sergeant and motioned Tarad away from the others. Once they were out of earshot, he continued. “Tarad, this is something I have to do alone. If I go in there with a contingency of soldiers, I risk getting no answers at all. If I go in there as just another wealthy lord, I—” “You risk being knocked over the head and robbed,” Tarad interrupted. “Ossey is not the gentle river township of our youth, Merrick.” “I know that, Tarad,” Merrick argued. “And that’s exactly why I need to go alone.” He drew Tarad closer to the cliff’s edge and pointed west. “Tell me what you see out there.” Tarad was silent a moment as his gaze traveled over the landscape. “Nothing,” he finally said. “Precisely. No cover, no place to hide. A contingency this size would be spotted leagues before we even got close to Ossey. Plenty of time to pack up slaves, hide them, threaten them with silence, whatever. I need to surprise them, catch them offguard.” Tarad glared at him, but Merrick knew he was 98

Dana Erikson

winning this argument. And he was not surprised by Tarad’s next words. “Then you’ll go with a smaller contingency. Three to four men. That shouldn’t make them suspect anything.” “Fine. But not you, Tarad.” “I beg to differ, Merrick. I know Ossey better than you. You’ve not been there for well over ten years. I have. I’ll go.” “Mielle will never forgive me if something happens to you, Tarad.” Tarad reached out to grip Merrick’s forearm. “And she will never forgive me if something happens to you. I’m riding with you.” Merrick sighed, but knew there was nothing he could do to stop the man. He gave a curt tip of his head and strode back to his men. They had set camp quite nicely, the fires well-hidden from the west. While the men were bunking down outside, a small tent had been erected for Merrick. He grimaced when he saw it, but Tarad chuckled. “You made quite an impression with King Phator,” he said softly. Merrick shot him a quick look, but decided that Tarad could not know of the intimate relationship he had with the king. Better to keep it that way. “Yes, well, he sometimes believes all of his officers are to be coddled.” “And you don’t like being coddled?” “Not when it makes me feel guilty as hell,” Merrick 99

Tears of Gold

retorted, but nonetheless started toward the tent. A sudden shifting noise in the rocks to the east brought every man to his feet. Weapons hissed out of scabbards, arrows were nocked into bows. Merrick and Tarad, having been out of firelight for a longer period of time, did not have their vision hampered. Merrick gestured Tarad to the right, while he took the left. Although they moved stealthily, they needn’t have bothered. The subject of their search practically fell at their feet, plummeting from a rock shelf some ten feet above them. Merrick was at the man’s side at once, but it was Tarad who recognized the man. “Jilda!” he breathed. Horror rushed through Merrick as he eased the injured man onto his back. Blood stained his clothing, deep gashes marred his face and arms. He coughed weakly and forced his eyes open. They fixed on Merrick with a glassy stare. “Merrick?” he rasped. “Or a ghost?” “No ghost, Jilda,” Merrick replied, and flicked his hand at one of the soldiers, sending him to fetch the healer. “Lie still. Let’s see what we’ve got here.” The man reached up and wrapped dirty, bloody fingers around Merrick’s arm, then squeezed slightly, as if ascertaining that he really was a solid man and not a figment of his own imagination. “They took Ambrose,” he whispered. “I saw you. I tried to follow you, but I couldn’t keep up.” He coughed again, and blood trickled from his mouth. 100

Dana Erikson

“Saw us?” Merrick repeated, moving aside just slightly so the healer could take over. “Saw us where?” “Here,” Jilda said, then moaned as the healer pressed against his chest. “The footprints we saw,” Tarad cried. “They were Jilda’s.” Merrick gasped. That was days ago! Days in which the injured man had lain here in the rocks, alone, possibly dying. While Merrick enjoyed good brandy, a hot bath and a soft bed. Guilt twisted his gut. “Damn,” he murmured. “I should have checked. I should have followed.” “No,” Jilda managed. “The children. They needed to be safe.” He groaned again, clutching at his side. Merrick looked to the healer for a report. “Numerous broken bones,” the man said. “Ribs, shoulder, arm, possibly his pelvis. Internal bleeding. Possibly collapsed lung, but that’s hard to tell. It’s going to be tight.” “Get him into my tent,” Merrick ordered. “Give him something for the pain. Get those bones set and get that bleeding stopped by whatever means you have.” “Yes, sir!” the man said, and motioned for others to come help him. But Jilda held fast to Merrick’s arm with what little strength he had left. “Ambrose. They took him to the city. Slavery, Merrick. Find him. Please.” The words drove into Merrick’s gut like a fist. 101

Tears of Gold

Slavery! Ambrose? He would never survive. He was far too gentle, far too weak. He would be easily broken, easily subdued. Just the thought of someone ordering him about, punishing him, set rage coursing through Merrick. “I’ll find him, Jilda,” Merrick growled. “I’ll find him.” He watched as the soldiers carried the man away, then turned and stared out over the flatlands, clenching and unclenching his fist. “So the rumors were right, Tarad. There is slavery in Ossey.” Tarad sighed. “I wish I’d been wrong.” “So do I,” Merrick mumbled. “So do I.” ****** Days of intensive training had passed, and Andrus thought sure that Ambrose was quite ready for the race. The young man responded to his every touch, his every command. The chariot barely touched the ground. And Andrus had barely touched Ambrose for gratification during the training. Still, each time he had seen the young man standing nude before him, he had been aroused. An arousal he had pushed aside, used other slaves to satisfy, all in an attempt to disprove Drondo’s words. He would not let this man master his genitals, when he could not master Ambrose’s. He had not yet managed to coax the man into an erection, and that bothered him a great deal. And it was something that he decided to put to an end that very evening. 102

Dana Erikson

He waited until they had finished their training for the day, until Ambrose had been fed and wiped down, then sauntered into the specially made stall. Ambrose came to his feet at once, but was unable to move past the chain that held him to the wall. He stared at Andrus, watching every move. Andrus smiled, reached out and patted him on the head. “You ran well today, Ambrose. I was very impressed. Because of that, I have a reward for you.” He held out the small glass of wine. Expensive wine. Good wine. But wine with a bit of arousal inducing herb tucked inside. “Here. Drink. It will warm you.” He held the cup to Ambrose’s lips and tipped it. Ambrose kept his mouth closed, letting the wine drip down his chin. Andrus pulled his hand back, anger flitting through him. “You are a determined one, aren’t you?” he asked, then reached up, grabbed a handful of hair and poured the wine into Ambrose’s now open mouth. Ambrose gagged, but had no choice but to swallow. Andrus released him and hurled the wine glass aside, getting some satisfaction at the sound of it breaking against the wooden stall wall. He calmed himself with several good deep breaths, and slowly began to unharness Ambrose from the riding gear, the pony racing rules screaming in his head. No sexual favors. They were to be treated as ponies, and that was all. Still, there was an exemption to the rule that stated sexual favors could occur if it were consensual. And since Ambrose was a slave, Andrus didn’t think 103

Tears of Gold

consensual mattered much. He finished with the harness, placing each piece carefully on a peg on the wall. The only piece he left intact were the armbands, which kept Ambrose’s hands firmly bound behind his back. That rankled Andrus. He wanted to walk with the man untethered, to prove that he had the upper hand without bonds of any sort. But he had already dealt with Ambrose’s rebellious streak a few times. He couldn’t take the chance of a tussle, and possibly having his prize stud injured so close to the opening race. He draped a cloak about the young man’s shoulders and gestured toward the open door. “It’s forbidden to actually ride the course used for racing,” he said, “but we can walk it to give you an idea of what awaits. Well, you’ll walk, I’ll ride.” He ushered Ambrose outside where a horse stood waiting. He saw Ambrose’s gaze flick over their surroundings, as if assessing a route of possible escape. The thought sent a tremor through Andrus. He knew there was no such route. His compound was too well-guarded. With a small smile, he snapped a long lead to the wrist bonds, then swung up on his horse. A gentle tug on the lead brought Ambrose alongside, and Andrus wrapped the extra lead lengths loosely about the saddle horn. He kept the horse at a slow pace, not wanting to tire Ambrose and needing to give the herbs time to work. If he timed it just right...he smiled, glancing up at the full moon that shed light on the lands. His 104

Dana Erikson

lands. Leagues and leagues in all directions. The thought sent warmth through him. Millions of dollars in the rare black opal. All his. He glanced down at Ambrose, who shuffled silently alongside him, the setting sun glancing off the golden nipple shields. He’s a beautiful demi-god, Andrus thought, and he belongs to me. Now if only he could get Ambrose to want him as much as he wanted Ambrose. The race route had run up several gentle hills, and now came to a narrow bridge spanning the Andrus River. A man-made river, diverted from other streams and rivers higher in the hills, here it ran wide and deep, with deadly whirlpools swirling in silent rage, as if angry to be forced where it did not want to be. And here, near the start of the bridge, Andrus slowed his horse. “This is probably the most dangerous place of the entire race, Ambrose,” he said. “It will take only one chariot at a time. As a racing courtesy, whomever has both feet on the bridge at the same time goes first. The others must leave off and try to make up for time after crossing. Many a handler and pony have been forced from this bridge because of miscalculation or incomplete training. Seldom do either survive.” Ambrose leaned over the railing. “Is it deep here, Master?” “And wicked,” Andrus said, dismounting and coming to stand beside the young man. He was not unduly surprised at what he read in the young man’s 105

Tears of Gold

eyes. They were glazed, the pupils wide and black. The herb was starting to take effect, and Ambrose was no longer able to hide his true emotions. But what the blue eyes were showing now sent raw fury to Andrus’ gut. Hate, contemplation, planning. If Andrus were reading him right, the man was actually anticipating plowing off the bridge on purpose, probably hoping to drown Andrus. But Andrus had a secret, something he hadn’t mentioned yet to Ambrose. He thought now might be a good time. “You need to understand how dangerous this river is, Ambrose. Your rider will be but a child. We shouldn’t —” “A child?” Ambrose interrupted, his gaze snapping to Andrus’ face. “But I thought you...well, that you were—” “Going to drive the chariot?” Andrus interrupted, not even bothering to remind Ambrose of his dereliction at forgetting his title. He laughed at the look of dismay that flitted through the blue eyes. “No. I cannot ride you in the race, Ambrose. It’s forbidden for handlers to drive their own pony. One of the younger, lighter slaves will do so. She has already been selected.” “She?” Ambrose’s voice was no more than a whisper. Andrus smiled and nodded. “A darling little thing, really. Her name is Iris. A pretty name, don’t you think?” He looked over the side of the railing again, then abruptly remounted, and nudged his horse into 106

Dana Erikson

movement. As they walked, he carefully released the extra loops of the lead attached to Ambrose’s wrist cuffs. Just as they reached the far end of the bridge, where the railing ended, he suddenly let his horse’s buttocks swing wide, knocking soundly against Ambrose. The young man gasped, grappled for his footing on what was now muddy ground, and then toppled into the river. As expected, the river grabbed him at once, yanking him out towards its center and a hideous whirlpool. With his hands yet bound, and the long cloak wrapped about him, there was nothing he could do but flounder helplessly. As soon as the lead snapped to its full length, Andrus began to back up the horse, pulling Ambrose shoreward. He kept the pace slow, but not slow enough that he might risk actually drowning Ambrose, and a few moments later the young man stumbled back onto dry ground, where he collapsed, heaving. Andrus dismounted and sauntered to his side, then hunkered down next to him. “I told you that it was dangerous, Ambrose,” he said softly. “Do you now believe me?” Ambrose looked up at him, through eyes cloudy with water and drug. Andrus reached beneath his robes, stroking firmly, his breath beginning to catch in his throat. But if he was hard with excitement and lust, Ambrose was not. Even the herbs had failed to produce the desired result, and in a fit of fury, Andrus rolled him over and relieved his own 107

Tears of Gold

cravings, although he got little satisfaction from it save for Ambrose’s weak cries.

108

Dana Erikson

Chapter Ten

M

errick lifted one hand, stopping the small group of men at his back. They were all dressed down from their uniforms. He and Tarad wore clothes befitting lords, although with no apparent wealth hanging in jeweled bags. The rest of the men would appear to be bodyguards, and it would be assumed that they held the currency, well-protected by swords. “Well?” Tarad murmured. “What do we do first?” “How about a drink? I’m feeling a little parched after that ride.” Merrick cast his gaze about the town, finally letting it settle on a well-provisioned inn. He nodded, gesturing with his chin. “There. That looks like a good place.” He nudged his horse into action, the others following silently. They got plenty of looks as they rode through town, but not one person made a move toward them, either friendly or not. Merrick kept his eye out for any of the men he’d seen crossing the pass a week earlier, although just what he intended to do if he saw them was beyond him. As a soldier for the king, it was not his place to mete out justice, no matter how much he might want to. The men would need to be found, tried and condemned in a proper court. The thought rankled Merrick. He would have just as soon run them through at first glance. 109

Tears of Gold

They reached their destination easily and dismounted. Merrick and Tarad turned over their horses’ leads to one of the men, and stepped up to the inn’s outside terrace. It was cool in the shade, a welcome respite from the heat of the day, and both men collapsed onto the hard, wooden chairs set around a small table. A barmaid came at once to take their orders. Merrick flashed her his best smile, but it seemed to be she was drawn to Tarad, who grinned and nodded at her. “Are ya new here?” she asked softly, her gaze quickly and obviously appraising each of them for wedding bands. Seeing none, she grew braver. “Is there anythin’ I can point out for ya?” “Such as?” Merrick asked. “Drinks would be nice,” Tarad put in. “Do ya know how to make a nice tea, full of ice and lemon?” “Aye, M’Lord, I do,” she replied. “And will ya be wantin’ sweeteners as well?” Tarad smiled at her. “I think you’ve done captured all of the sweetness, M’Lady. Surely there is none left in the larder, but if you find a few flakes, bring them along as well.” She giggled, tipped her head and hurried away, her full skirts swishing. Merrick watched her go, then punched Tarad in the arm. “You’re a married man,” he mumbled. “Where’d you learn all of that?” Tarad chuckled. “How do you think I became a 110

Dana Erikson

married man?” He glanced at the men standing nearby. “I feel guilty sitting here in the shade drinking, while they’re standing out there in the hot sun.” Merrick agreed, and glanced about for some shade that wouldn’t be too far away. He motioned with one hand toward the side of the building, and the men moved into the cool shadows. Close enough to be quickly summoned, yet almost hidden from view. Merrick decided he liked that aspect. Maybe he could gain a little information from this barmaid. Or Tarad could. He shot a glance at Tarad’s ringless hand. “So, why no band?” Tarad shrugged. “No money. It’s not often that a sheepherder has the money for two rings. I managed to save up enough for Mielle, but that’s as far as it went.” He smiled as the barmaid returned with their drinks. “Thank you, lass. Maybe you can tell my friend and me where we can get ourselves a nice room.” “Why here, M’Lord,” she said at once, gesturing to the inn behind her. “The finest in Ossey. You will be staying on a bit, won’t you?” “And what, besides your lovely self, might entice us to do so?” Tarad asked, taking a sip of his tea. She giggled again, blushing furiously. “To be honest, M’Lord, the place of the most excitement this time of the year is Andrustown, not here.” Merrick started, nearly choking on his drink. “Andrustown?” he managed. 111

Tears of Gold

“Aye.” She gave him a quizzical look. “Do you be knowin’ of it then?” “No. I...I...no.” Merrick took a long drink of the tea, trying to quiet the pounding of his heart. That name! It leapt out at him, sending a tingle straight through him. He cleared his throat. “Andrustown? Might you know the namesake there?” “Oh, aye, M’Lord. His name is Andrus Lordson. He created the town, M’lord. Owns all of the opal mines west of it. Do ya know ‘im?” “I might at that,” Merrick replied. Tarad tossed him a questioning glance, but directed his next question at the barmaid. “This excitement you speak of...might it be the ponyracing?” “Aye, M’Lord,” she replied, although she couldn’t quite contain a slight wince. “The track is there. It’s...quite crowded at this time of the year.” “Sounds interesting,” Merrick said. “How far away is Andrustown?” This time she did grimace. “About ten leagues, M’Lord.” Merrick drew back. “That’s a fair distance in this heat.” He paused, then took a chance. “If I go, I would like assistance. Do you know where I might buy some help?” She stiffened, swallowing hard. “No, M’Lord. Most of the men here are already inden...in employment of other lords such as yourselves.” She drew a quick breath. “Will there be anything else, M’Lords?” 112

Dana Erikson

Merrick frowned, wondering at her change in tone, as if now she were uncomfortable and only wanted to be away. He shook his head and slipped her another coin for her troubles. She smiled, tucked the coin in her bosom and moved away to serve other patrons. “So, what do you make of that?” Tarad asked. “She was going to say something else,” Merrick replied. “Indentured, perhaps?” “My guess.” Merrick studied the streets before him. “From her reticence, I would suspect she doesn’t feel free to discuss it here.” “Maybe I can get her to discuss it elsewhere,” Tarad said quietly. Merrick shot him a questioning look. “And what would Mielle think of that?” Tarad grinned. “She would think I was doing my job, but rest easy. I’m not planning to sleep with the girl, just get some information.” The two men were silent for a few minutes, sipping idly at their tea. Finally, Tarad spoke, his voice hard and bitter. “So, it sounds like Andrus has done well for himself.” “Sounds like it,” Merrick agreed. “And it sounds like I need to pay him a visit.” “Alone?” “I think that would be best, Tarad. You know he and you never got along.” “That was ten years ago, Merrick. I would hope 113

Tears of Gold

that we’d both matured enough to be able to be in the same room together.” Merrick doubted it. After all, it was Tarad’s older sister who had raised Andrus’ daughter—alone and in disgrace. Tarad had never forgiven Andrus for that, and Merrick didn’t know that he should now. Merrick didn’t know if he, himself, had forgiven Andrus for that. He pushed painful thoughts aside and rose, sighing. “Well, for now, we rest. Have the men stable our horses, while I get us a place to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll start out for Andrustown, while you stay here and gather information.” “Not alone, Merrick,” Tarad said at once. Merrick chuckled. “You sound like King Phator now. No, not alone. Not even I’m stupid enough to go traipsing about this country with no bodyguard. I’ll take two men with me.” “Make it three and we have a deal,” Tarad said. Merrick nodded, easily acquiescing. He had expected to be forced to take twice that, knowing that King Phator had definitely been speaking to Tarad. He certainly didn’t want Tarad to be put on the spot once they all returned to the palace. “Two weeks,” Tarad suddenly announced. “Two weeks?” Merrick looked at him, confused. “Then I come to Andrustown and roust you out.” “Two weeks is barely enough time to get reacquainted, Tarad.” “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Tarad mumbled. 114

Dana Erikson

Merrick studied him a moment, wondering if he knew of the relationship he’d shared with Andrus. “Make it three and we have a deal,” he said, mimicking Tarad’s earlier words. Tarad couldn’t help but smile, and he nodded. “Three, then. Make it a good three, Merrick.” “I will indeed.” ****** Next day saw Merrick and three bodyguards on their way to Andrustown. The sun was barely up, and already the heat was oppressive. He guessed it would take him and his men two to three times longer to traverse the distance than a comparable distance in the coolness of the valley east of the mountains. As he rode, he kept his eyes trained on the surrounding land. The well-rutted road was crowded with traffic, most all of it heading in the same direction he was. He kept his distance, paralleling the road more than traversing it, studying the travelers as he rode. There was a variety of carts, buggies, wagons, just about every rolling contraption conceivable. There were numerous families as well, with dirty-faced little urchins darting about, laughing as if on some sort of joyous holiday. There were several groups that Merrick could only call an entourage, with the main carriage decked out in splendor, sheltering the occupants from the blazing sun while the men accompanying it had barely 115

Tears of Gold

enough to keep their skin covered. Merrick wondered if these were some of the slaves he had been sent to scout out. Still, he saw no bonds of any sort, no chains or ropes. Nothing to hold the men or to keep them from running off. They seemed to be following along of their own free will. The first night out was a surprise for Merrick. With the heat of the day, he was not prepared for the cold of the night. Thankfully, a group of travelers took pity on him, and allowed him and his men to share their fire. Merrick gained little information from the group, who were hard-pressed to even speak his language. They babbled something about Sadrapol, which Merrick knew was a large township far to the south of Ossey. He thought it strange that they had journeyed such a distance to see these pony-races, until one of his men mentioned that perhaps betting was the real draw. That made sense. There was always someone eager for a get rich quick scheme, no matter that they might lose everything they had instead. Subsequent days, Merrick and his men made sure to gather what they could of the scrub brush for fire making, even though that meant riding at a greater distance from the main road. Merrick actually preferred it that way. He felt uncomfortable amongst the travelers, although he couldn’t really pinpoint why. The atmosphere was jovial, as though all journeyed to a great carnival of sport and gaiety, and Merrick began to think that the issue of slavery was non-existent. Although he kept his ears open and his 116

Dana Erikson

eyes alert, in the days it took to cross the scrubland and reach Andrustown, Merrick saw not one incident of abuse or restraint. He thought back to Tarad’s words regarding the ponies, how they were abused and humiliated. Perhaps the ponies, then, were the only slaves. And if Ambrose had been taken into slavery, perhaps Merrick would find him at the track. He both hoped he would and wouldn’t. They were still a day away from Andrustown when he saw the huge placard announcing opening day of racing—two days away. He and his men had been following a wide, shallow river that moved sluggishly across the dry ground. Merrick wondered what even fed it, where its source was. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. Strange looking, halfparched trees lined the water’s edge, providing some respite from the sun during the day and a decent canopy against the cold at night. The water, though warm, did provide a way to clean the dust and sweat away at day’s end. Still, noticing the way that the locals avoided drinking from the river, he kept his men and mounts to potable water. Unfortunately, that was running low, and he was thankful they were almost at their destination. As his men unsaddled the horses for the night, he went about collecting more scrub brush and sticks for the fire that would keep him and his men decently warm and help keep the bugs at bay. He was definitely looking forward to proper accommodations 117

Tears of Gold

once in the city. He just wasn’t sure if he would be able to find anything what with the crowds. If worse came to worse, he supposed he could camp out beside the river along with the hundreds of other visitors. He looked up as one of his men approached. “Sir, the horses are tethered for the night. Would you like that fire started now?” Merrick nodded, his mind more on his next course of action. He needed to find Andrus. If anyone could answer his questions, Andrus could. Trouble was, could Merrick believe him? He had a history with Andrus that not many knew about, a history he wasn’t sure he wanted to relive. Still, the barmaid had told him that this town had been built by Andrus, that he was a wealthy man. It stood to reason that if he’d built this entire town, that he also held a stake in the racing that was about to take place. And, if he had a stake in the racing, he would know something of the slavery issue as well. But would he share what he knew? Merrick doubted it—not if Andrus thought Merrick might report back to the king. No, somehow, Merrick had to make Andrus believe that he was there for no reason other than his own, and riding into town with three soldiers was not going to be an easy way to convince him. He sighed and sat down near the fire, then waited for his men to join him in a simple dinner. While he waited, a plan began to take shape. “Tomorrow,” he began, “I want the three of you to 118

Dana Erikson

wait here. Give me a two to three hour head start. When you come into town, make general inquiries about my whereabouts, if anyone has seen a military officer come through.” “Shall we mention your name, Sir?” one of the men asked. Merrick nodded. “Feel free to do so. I need to attract the attention of the man in charge of Andrustown. He knows me from many years back. If he thinks I’m being sought, he might decide to lend me a hand, hide me.” “You want him to think you’ve deserted, Sir?” another man asked. “Exactly.” “But why, Sir?” “Because I need him to see me as Merrick Underson, an old friend who might be in trouble, not as Lt. Underson, who might be gathering information for the king. If he even suspects that I’m there on official business, he’ll never speak with me.” “So, what do you want us to do, Sir?” “Ride in, ask questions, be specific about me, not slavery. If you’re told I’ve moved on, or never been there, ride out.” “But, Sir, King—” Merrick silenced him with a raised hand. “I know the king’s orders. These are mine. I can’t do what the king asked unless you do as I ask now. Clear?” The three men exchanged worried glances, but they all nodded. Merrick grimaced. 119

Tears of Gold

“Look,” he said, “you only need to come back this far and wait. Tarad has given me only three weeks to get in there and get back out. We’ve wasted four days as it is of those three weeks. I don’t want to waste anymore. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen to me in two weeks’ time?”

120

Dana Erikson

Chapter Eleven followed his guard up the steep steps to Andrus the top of the tower. His gaze flitted over the

crowds milling about the marketplace. “There,” the guard said, pointing. Andrus followed the gesture, a grimace twisting his mouth. Three men, now leading their horses, strolled through the streets, stopping now and again to speak to a merchant or passersby. Even without their uniforms, Andrus knew soldiers when he saw them. He studied them carefully. “What do you have on them?” he asked the big man at his side. “They rode in just before lunch. Apparently they’re looking for an officer attached to their regiment.” Momentary panic swelled inside Andrus, and he forcefully quelled it. “A name?” he snapped. “Lt. Merrick Underson.” Andrus gasped, his gaze snapping to his guard. “Merrick?” he breathed. “Here?” He looked back out over the crowds. “Damn him.” “Would you like me to find him and dispose of him, M’Lord?” “No! I just need to find out why he’s here...and not with his men.” He turned, brushing past the guard and started down the steps, talking as he went. “Get 121

Tears of Gold

your men out on the streets. See if you can catch any information on his whereabouts, if he’s even here in Andrustown. If you find him, don’t confront him. Follow him. Let me know where he is. Put a few men on those soldiers, as well. I don’t want them anywhere near the track or the stables. Let your presence be known in the streets, Thurcan. I don’t want any talk of slaves or slavery anywhere. Understand?” The big man tipped his head in acknowledgement and hurried away. Andrus drew a deep breath and turned his steps toward his own stables, his mind racing. Merrick? Here? Why? Why now? Had word somehow gotten back to the king about the slaves Andrus held? He knew slavery was illegal, and he would have hell to pay if King Phator ever found out. So far, he and his fellow warlords had been able to keep the people silent about it. Fear had a tendency to do that. Still, he needed to let them know of this turn of events. It was sure to put a damper on the enthusiasm of the approaching race, and the thought only infuriated Andrus further. He stepped into the stables, snapping orders as he went. “You there!” He stabbed a finger at a stable boy. “I want all of the ponies taken to the river stalls.” He whirled on another young man. “Get all of their equipment stored. I want this place in order within the hour. I want all of the riders sequestered in preparation. Move!” He took some delight in the outright terror that tore across the boys’ faces as they 122

Dana Erikson

raced to obey. In one hour, this place would hold no hint of human ponies or slaves. It would be a stable as any other stable. Andrus knew that none of his slaves would dare breathe a word about their indentured status. They had seen too many die for doing just that. Besides, when Andrus held the welfare of their entire families in the palm of his hand, he was more than sure of their obedience. He smiled as he watched them work, then turned toward Ambrose’s stall. No. He stopped, drawing a deep, ragged breath. No. He had things to do. He couldn’t take time out for his own pleasures. Besides, the anticipation would make it all that much sweeter when he finally did visit the boy. He clenched his fists and strode from the stables before he could change his mind, ignoring the erection he’d already sustained. He forced his thoughts away from Ambrose and to Merrick. He wondered what the man looked like now—ten years later. He supposed that military life would have put more muscle on the man, honed him to a fine specimen. Not that he hadn’t been before. Andrus could still see the lithe, bronzed body, the sparkling green eyes, eyes that he had lost himself in many times in the past. If he closed his eyes, he could still hear Merrick’s ragged breathing, still feel him... Andrus groaned. This was not helping his arousal. Now he ached to taste Merrick once again, to feel his childhood friend beneath him, to hear his cries of pain and satiation. He stopped, leaning his forehead against the side of the building nearest him. He closed 123

Tears of Gold

his eyes, trying to control his breathing, but the more he tried not to think of his desires, the stronger they seemed to become. He reached beneath his robes and stroked his own shaft, trembling with want. But if there was one thing Andrus Lordson didn’t do, it was self-gratification. He had far too many who would answer to his demands to have to resort to that. He pushed away from the wall and stumbled into the main house, making a deal with himself. He would take the first person he saw—man, woman, it didn’t matter. The thrill would be in the mystery of it. He turned a corner into another room, and stopped short. A slow smile curved his lips. Almost perfect. True, it was a female, not exactly what Andrus had hoped for. But he had made a deal with himself, and he was determined to follow through, no matter the slight bitter taste of disinterest. Besides, he knew she was new here, only just arrived from the slave blocks in Ossey. He also knew that at her age, she was most likely a virgin. That alone would make this all worthwhile. He moved silently up behind the girl, who was carefully dusting each glass trinket on a display shelf. He slipped his arms about her, pushing against her backside at the same moment. She gasped, dropping the item she’d been holding. It hit the leg of the shelf, shattering. “Oops,” Andrus said quietly, his mouth near her ear. “M’Lord!” she cried, trying in vain to twist away from him. “I’m so sorry. You startled me.” 124

Dana Erikson

“Did I?” he whispered. “You broke it. It looks like you owe me now.” “But, M’Lord,” she pleaded, then cried out when he lifted her skirts. “Hush,” he said. “Just enjoy it.” He ran his hands up her slender thighs, found her undergarments and pulled them away. She was trembling beneath him, her sobs muffled by her shame and terror. Andrus turned her to face him, and his breath caught in his throat. She reminded him of another, a young girl from his youth, one of the few times he had lain with a female. She had become pregnant, had a child. A child Andrus had never seen, nor cared to see. He had left Orma shortly after, run out by the girl’s enraged father and brother, and he had never been back. He reached up and ran one slender finger along the girl’s cheek. “Your name?” he whispered. “Melana,” she managed, then swallowed hard and added, “M’Lord.” “Do you like it here, Melana?” he asked, deftly untying the strings at her bosom. She sobbed again, but made no effort to stop him. He smiled. He liked compliance from women. It was only the men he liked to tussle with. He freed her breasts, cupping them gently. They were small, firm, the nipples light and creamy. He ran one thumb over the nubs, but his thoughts suddenly turned traitorous. All he could see was the girl from his youth, the swollen belly that hid his progeny. His 125

Tears of Gold

erection died almost as swiftly as it had come, and he released the girl with a rough shove. “You didn’t answer my question,” he snarled. “Do you like it here, Melana?” She fumbled with the ties on her blouse. “Yes, M’Lord, of course I do.” “And are you a slave here, Melana?” She went white, her lips trembling. “No, M’Lord. I serve of free will.” He studied her a moment, then chuckled softly. “Of course you do.” He glanced at the broken figurine. “Clean that up. You’ll be punished for it later.” Without another word, he turned and strode from the room, his thoughts once again on Merrick. ****** Merrick slipped into the shadows of the building, his breathing ragged. He watched as his men shuffled down the street, not more than twenty paces away. Damn! They were good. They had almost caught him several times. In a way, this was almost fun, like a game, and Merrick was actually enjoying it. Still, he hoped to make contact with Andrus soon, before nightfall left him in the streets without a place to stay. He had forgotten to tell his men when to give up and leave Andrustown, and hoped they would do so soon. With a sigh of determination, he slipped beneath a thick wood fence and ran its length, before coming to 126

Dana Erikson

a crouched stop in the shade of a large tree. The smell of hay assailed him and he turned, realizing he’d backtracked to the very stable he’d left his horse in hours earlier. He grimaced and shook his head. Stupid, to be coming back to his horse, even if the stable was at the far reaches of town. Still, if the men had already searched there, it wasn’t likely they would come back expecting to see him there. Maybe it was the best place, after all. He slipped into the building, pausing to wait until his eyes adjusted to the gloom, then started slowly toward the stall he’d had the horse housed in. He stopped, stunned. Asher was gone. Merrick was so surprised, he didn’t even see the stable hand approach, and nearly impaled him when he abruptly spoke. The boy leapt back with a yelp of surprise, his gaze locked on the dagger in Merrick’s hand. “Where’s my horse?” Merrick demanded. “He...he’s outside, M’Lord,” the boy managed. “Outside? What the hell’s he doing outside?” “What’s going on here?” A big, beefy man stomped Merrick’s way. “Put that thing away. You got some quarrel, you take it up with me!” Merrick glared at him, but resheathed his dagger. “My horse is outside. Why?” “Because I got people paying twice what you offered, that’s why!” the man retorted. “Be glad I give him a place at all. He’s been fed and brushed. Now, unless you want me to fetch the constables in here to discuss it, you’d best join your horse. Outside.” 127

Tears of Gold

Merrick bit back a scathing retort. It was obvious that the liveryman had deduced that Merrick was a hunted man. The thought amused Merrick at the same time it grated on him. He gave a curt nod and strode outside. There were a number of horses tethered in the gathering darkness, but nowhere did Merrick see Asher. It took him a full five minutes to remember he had left Asher with his men, and taken one of their nondescript horses instead. Relief surged through him with the same intensity as self-reproach. He was simply no good at this subterfuge. He made his way past the other horses, finally coming alongside his own. At least, he thought it was his own. His saddlebags were missing, and he chastised himself once again. He wasn’t used to being robbed. He sighed and collapsed on the cold, hard ground. It was going to be a long night. Morning couldn’t come soon enough for Merrick. He was cold, hungry and sore. He straightened, moaning as sore muscles protested, then patted down his own pockets, hoping to find at least a few coins that would buy a meal. He was disappointed. With a surly glance at his horse, who was enjoying an already-paid-for breakfast, he stumbled toward town, not really sure what to do now. Without money, he was at the mercy of this teeming city. He had to find Andrus. He walked the streets all morning, making note of street names, inns, drinkeries, betting halls. He managed to slip some tidbit of unfinished food from a 128

Dana Erikson

small table set near the boardwalk after the patron had finished. He grimaced at the thought of ingesting someone else’s tossaway, but forced himself to remember that he had eaten much worse while out on a mission. When you were very hungry, even a bug seemed a pleasant meal. By mid-afternoon, he was hot and thirsty, but hesitant to drink from the river. He made do with a few scoops of water from one of the fountains when no one was looking, but even that only seemed to make his thirst worse. Although he had questioned several merchants on where he might find Lord Andrus, he had received no real good answer. They all indicated the same thing—that Andrus was about and sooner or later, the man would find anyone asking for him. That made little sense to Merrick, but he hoped it was true. He didn’t know what he could do with no money. As the afternoon wore on, he made his way towards the track, studying the wooden seats built to one side. He supposed that the owners of the ponies would sit there, above the peasants and lesser beings who bet on the races. It seemed wrong somehow that those whose money paid for the grandeur seldom had a piece of it. He grimaced and turned back to the track. It was eerily quiet. He would have thought that with the races slated to begin the next day, the track would be a flurry of activity. Instead, they seemed deserted. He was about to turn away, to find someone he could beg for food, when he heard a voice calling his name. 129

Tears of Gold

“Merrick! Merrick Underson!” Merrick turned, immediately recognizing the voice from his past. He could scarcely believe his eyes. Andrus was pushing his way through the crowd, one hand raised, eyes alight with delight. He reached Merrick a few moments later and embraced him in a sound hug, then drew back, holding fast to his upper arms. “Merrick Underson! As I live and breathe! What are you doing here?” Merrick winced, his gaze darting over the crowds. Andrus seemed to notice at once, and chuckled. “Ah, yes,” he said softly. “Heard they were looking for you.” Merrick’s gaze shot to Andrus. “Who is? How did— “ At that, Andrus laughed, and placed one arm about Merrick’s shoulders, turning him away from the track. “I know everything that goes on here. So, why are you hiding from your own men?” Merrick hesitated, licking suddenly dry lips. “I...um...” He stopped, tipping his head, eyeing Andrus thoughtfully. “How do you know they’re my men? In fact, how did you even recognize me?” Andrus laughed again. “I keep up to date on those important to me. You joined the palace guard unit a while back, didn’t you? It shows.” He squeezed Merrick’s biceps. “And who could forget those green eyes? So, why are you lurking in the shadows while they search the streets for you?” 130

Dana Erikson

Merrick sighed, rubbing at his neck. “Well, I suppose it has something to do with an unauthorized extended furlough.” Andrus’ eyebrows went up in outright surprise. “You’re away without leave?” He dissolved into laughter when Merrick shushed him. “Rest easy, Merrick. You’re safe here. In fact, I sent those soldiers on their merry way this morning. Told them you weren’t here but that if I saw you, I would certainly let them know right away. After all, it isn’t right for a king’s man to be negligent in his duty to the crown.” Merrick frowned, not really sure how he felt about that. It was like his last lifeline to safety had been cut. Whatever happened now, it was up to him and his own wits. Wits that he was finding fairly scattered while Andrus was standing so close. It amazed him that the man could still evoke a sexual response in him after so many years—and the parting they’d had. He sought something to take his mind off of it, and gestured at the track. “Racing? I saw the placard outside of town. And Andrustown? A bit arrogant, isn’t it?” Andrus laughed. “Not so much arrogance as laziness on my part. Just couldn’t think of anything else.” He glanced at the track. “Have you ever seen the pony races before?” Merrick shook his head. “No. First I heard of them was in Ossey. That’s where I heard of Andrustown, as well. I had to come see for myself, see if it really was you.” He looked about, his gaze flitting over the 131

Tears of Gold

ornate buildings, the fountains, the statuary. “You’ve done well for yourself, Andrus.” “I do my best,” Andrus said. “So, it looks like I’ve missed the races,” Merrick said, for lack of better things. He was completely flustered, and Andrus’ touch only seemed to be furthering that. He eased away on the pretense of stretching. “No, you haven’t missed them at all,” Andrus replied. “We’ve only had qualifying trials. The actual races open the day after tomorrow.” “I see. Well, then, perhaps you could show me an inn,” Merrick said, despite the fact he had no money to pay for one. “I could use a place to freshen up.” “An inn? Don’t be silly. You can stay at my place. I have plenty of room. It’ll give us a chance to catch up.” “My horse is—” Merrick started. “I know where it is,” Andrus interrupted, then laughed again. “I told you, I know everything that happens here, including the fact that you were robbed last evening.” Merrick flushed. “Apparently, I’m no good at this desertion bit.” “Well, if it will help your case with the king, I recovered your things. The thief has been dealt with as well. I’ll send someone over to fetch your horse. It can stable at my place.” He draped one arm over Merrick’s shoulders and urged him forward, through the crowds. “I must say, the years have been good to 132

Dana Erikson

you. You look wonderful.” “As do you, Andrus. Someone mentioned that you own some mines?” “I do,” Andrus replied. “Black opals. The finest in the world.” He gave Merrick’s shoulder another hug, steering him down a narrow alleyway. “Gods! It’s good to see you again. How long has it been?” Merrick shrugged. “At least ten years.” “Ten years, and yet it feels like nothing.” He gestured at the ornate buildings lining the cobbled streets they walked. “So, what do you think of Andrustown? I built it. The entire thing, all of it, with the income from the opals. Beautiful, isn’t it? I add more and more every year as finances permit.” “And the track?” “I own the grounds, but the competitors pay me for the use.” “So, you own no ponies of your own?” Merrick asked. For some reason he wanted Andrus to say no, to not have a part in something that might very well be illegal. But the man’s answer dashed his hopes. “Own? No, no one owns the ponies, Merrick. We sponsor them. I have three. I’ll be running the fastest in the opening race. But you’ll see him. He’s a wonderful athlete, Merrick.” He stopped before heavy, ornate iron gates set in stone. “Here we are. My humble abode.” Merrick stared at the enormous structure on the other side of the gate. It was half hidden by leafy trees, but sported well-kept lawns, sparkling 133

Tears of Gold

fountains, and a drive that gleamed like— He gasped, looking closer. “Opals? You use crushed opals to line your drive?” Andrus laughed. “Just the poor quality ones, I assure you. Come inside.” He slipped through a smaller gate to one side of the gatehouse, flicking one hand at the armed guard. Once inside the compound, the opulence continued, and Merrick gaped. “You have done well for yourself, Andrus. Very well.” He followed the man into the foyer, his footfalls echoing on marble floors. Various scents drifted to him, setting his stomach to rumbling. Andrus noticed and laughed. “Hungry? You always had an insatiable appetite, Merrick, but I suppose having no money for dinner or breakfast might be causing that grumbling now. Tell you what. Let one of my servants show you to your room. You can freshen up and join me for dinner on the back porch. The gardens are blooming and it’s quite beautiful at this time of the year. We’ll reminisce, and you can bed down here for as long as you want. Sound good?” Merrick smiled and nodded, unable to stop the tremble that rushed through him at the very mention of bed. He hoped his voice didn’t belie his interest. “Sounds very good, Andrus.” “Excellent.” He pulled a silken cord to summon a servant, and gave instructions. “Until later, then,” he said, and gave a small bow. 134

Dana Erikson

Merrick chuckled and followed the servant up the winding staircase. The room he was let into was enormous, with thick rugs scattered about, vases of fresh-cut flowers and a bed the likes of which Merrick had never seen. He dismissed the servant and approached the heavy iron bathtub. It was empty, and he sighed. He wished he could have bathed. Instead, he made due with a quick wash from the basin. A check of the wardrobe found him a fresh, clean set of clothing and he donned them, ran his fingers through his hair and went in search of Andrus, his stomach demanding attention. He stopped before a narrow window that looked out at what looked to be a riding paddock. No one was about, and all of the stalls were closed up, presumably for the night. He wondered where the ponies slept, if they were treated like horses even after the races were over. No. He shook the thought aside. No, he was sure they were not. They were men, after all. Trained athletes. Most likely they were housed in barracks, with servants catering to their every wish. In fact, they probably ate better than he did with his rations as a soldier. Tarad must have been wrong. Rumors were only that—rumors. He would find no slaves here. Andrus had already told him that the ponies were sponsored, not owned. With a sigh, he turned towards the stairs. He was met by a servant, and escorted to the porch, where Andrus waited. The man rose, his light gray robes swirling about his muscular form. 135

Tears of Gold

“Welcome,” he cried, reaching out to clasp Merrick’s hand between his. He pulled the man toward the bounty arrayed on the wide table. “Sit, sit. I’ve just poured the wine. We’ve fresh carrots, pork, bread and custard. Anything else you might want, I can most likely get from the larder.” Merrick laughed at the boyish exuberance, and took the seat Andrus held for him, his stomach growling in anticipation. He was starved. “No, no, this is more than adequate. More than what I’ve seen in any one place for years.” Andrus frowned at him, sitting down. “They don’t feed you well in the king’s service? I would think they would, what with the money he has at his disposal.” “And perhaps he chooses to keep that money his,” Merrick replied, grinning, although that was not entirely the truth. As kings went, Phator was quite generous. “Why, I think you might have out financed even him.” Andrus laughed, and motioned to the food. “Eat! Don’t let it sit there and get cold!” For hours, the two man ate, drank and talked of old times. Merrick was not used to imbibing fine wine, and soon found himself lost to its charm. His laughter rang freely, and as Andrus recalled more personal events, he found himself once again drawn to this man who had been his first lover.

136

Dana Erikson

Chapter Twelve

H

e woke next morning muzzy-headed. A quick glance at the room showed him he was not alone. Andrus lay curled up beside him, his lower half covered by blankets, one arm flopped over his face as if to block out the sunshine creeping past the heavy draperies. Merrick suppressed his groan of dismay at his lack of willpower, then frowned at the empty glass on the nightstand. He reached for it, sniffed the contents and then sighed. He recognized this scent, the odd yellowish coating on the bottom of the glass. He and Andrus had experimented with the sexenhancement drug many times in their past, even passing it on to others without their knowledge. It wasn’t something Merrick was proud of, although at the time, led by Andrus, it had been quite an exciting game to induce other boys to engage in sex with their own kind. Now, it stirred a bit of resentment and unease. “Morning,” Andrus yawned, stretching. He propped himself on one elbow. “Why did you do this?” Merrick asked, lifting the glass towards him. Andrus quickly averted his gaze. “Well, it’s been a long time, Merrick. I’m not exactly the same lithe and supple young man you remember. I wasn’t sure if 137

Tears of Gold

you would still be as interested as I was. I just thought I would hedge my bets a bit.” He shrugged, laying back down and turning aside. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to coerce you into doing something you no longer desired.” Merrick regarded him somberly for a moment, then shook his head and set the glass down. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly. Andrus turned towards him, his eyes questioning. “Really?” “Really. You may not be a teen, Andrus, but the years have been kind to you.” He grinned at the flush that colored Andrus’ cheeks. He had never been able to resist that. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Andrus had done it on purpose, had practiced it in his spare time. He chuckled and reached out to tousle Andrus’ dark locks. The man caught his wrist, turned it and ran his tongue up the palm. Merrick shuddered, feeling the years fall away. He was once more that young boy, excited, trembling, eager to have his first experience with a boy who shared his own yearnings. Apparently, Andrus was thinking along the same lines. “Do you remember our first time, Merrick?” he asked softly, and sucked Merrick’s index finger into his mouth. Merrick watched, mesmerized, wincing just slightly at Andrus bit gently. “Yes, I do. It was in the meadow.” 138

Dana Erikson

“In the meadow,” Andrus agreed, and moved onto Merrick’s second finger. He swirled his tongue about it, then pulled it out, and blew cool air onto it. “The grass was tall, Merrick. It hid us. We had our own little world there, with nothing but the skies above us. Nothing to stop our unbridled passion.” Merrick could do no more than nod in agreement as Andrus sucked his third finger into his mouth, working his tongue over it gently. He drew it out, then plunged it in again, sucking harder. Merrick swallowed hard, his breathing ragged. He could not take his eyes off of Andrus’ mouth, now working its magic on his fourth finger. “I remember,” he rasped, his penis hardening with alarming swiftness. Andrus drew back and again ran his tongue across Merrick’s palm, first up and down, then side to side. But when he made to take all four of Merrick’s fingers into his mouth, Merrick suddenly pulled away, gripped Andrus by the back of the head and pulled him close, his mouth crushing the mouth that had seconds ago toyed so deliciously with his digits. He accepted Andrus’ tongue into his mouth, lashing at it with his own, then pressed him down on the bed, their bodies side by side. While his mouth continued a punishing kiss, his hand drifted down Andrus’ side to his thigh. The muscles rippling there only furthered his excitement, and he came fully atop the man, pressing his erection against Andrus’. His hands sought out Andrus’, and he locked his fingers 139

Tears of Gold

through the man’s, pinning him down, finally releasing his lips to breathe. Andrus stared up at him, his face pink, his lips red from the crushing they’d sustained. “You on top?” he whispered. “I thought that was my place.” Merrick grinned down at him wickedly. “We’re not teenagers anymore. And I have the size advantage this time.” Andrus smiled. “Then I guess I’m at your mercy.” “I guess you are,” Merrick replied, and once more pressed his lips against Andrus’. He churned his hips, sliding his erection over Andrus’, feeling their preejaculate wetting them both. No longer able to breathe, Merrick moved his mouth to Andrus’ neck, where he kissed and nipped and suckled, tasting the sweet sweat of arousal. Andrus moaned beneath him, then abruptly lifted his legs and wrapped them about Merrick’s waist. Lost in rapture, Merrick quickly shifted his weight, moving down, and then thrusting up, burying himself in Andrus’ warmth. Andrus’ moans turned to groans, and he tightened his grip on Merrick’s fingers, his head thrown back, his gasps driving Merrick to frenzy. He pulled back and thrust again, this time deeper, feeling Andrus’ muscles clamp about him. Andrus was slick, wet, and Merrick briefly wondered if the man bled. Merrick was no small man, in any aspect, and the mere thought of causing this sort of carnal pain to Andrus brought Merrick closer to climax. He 140

Dana Erikson

slowed his thrusts, wanting to make the sensation last, and moved his mouth to one of Andrus’ nipples. He sucked with abandon, then bit, eliciting a yelp of pain from the man beneath him. And that was all it took. Merrick paused for a split second, then thrust one last time, burying himself as deep as he could, and shot his seed, his moan loud and throaty. He thrust again and again, squeezing every last drop of semen he held into Andrus’ body, barely aware of the semen that suddenly coated his abdomen and chest as Andrus also climaxed. Then, spent, he collapsed, his mouth at Andrus’ neck. He waited until his breathing had slowed, his heart had calmed, before he suddenly latched onto Andrus’ neck and left a large, red lover’s mark. A mark for all the world to see—just as Andrus had done to him those so many years ago. He heard Andrus gasp, then began to chuckle. Each spasm of his body squeezed against Merrick’s penis, still buried deep within the warm, wet folds of Andrus’ passage. “Careful, Andrus,” Merrick murmured. “We might need to give this another go.” He moved suggestively against the man. At that, Andrus laughed out loud, and gently untangled himself from Merrick’s grip. He glanced at the blood staining the bedsheets, then up at Merrick. “Well, it would seem that all of your muscles have grown substantially larger over the years.” “Or yours smaller,” Merrick teased, watching him 141

Tears of Gold

get out of bed. Andrus chuckled, and went to the mirror to examine the red mark on his neck. He shook his head, his voice chastising. “Oh, just perfect, Merrick. Now, how on earth am I going to hide this?” “You’re not supposed to,” Merrick replied, leaning up on one elbow. “Don’t you remember what you told me? That it’s a symbol of your new sexual status.” Andrus turned and grinned at him, then gestured. “Well, in that case, we’ve a matching set,” he said, and disappeared into the adjoining bath. Merrick leapt from the bed and darted to the mirror. There, on his neck, in almost the same location as it had been so long ago, was his own mark. Andrus must have made it the previous night, when Merrick was too drugged up to notice. He wondered what else Andrus had done without his knowledge. The thought was a little disconcerting and more than exciting. He glanced toward the bathroom, then sauntered in to join Andrus. ****** It was only later, after they had bathed, robed and were enjoying a late breakfast on the balcony that Andrus again brought up the question of why Merrick was in Andrustown. Merrick paused, slowly chewing his bit of ham. Guilt engulfed him, his thoughts going to Ambrose. 142

Dana Erikson

But why should he feel guilty? He hadn’t seen Ambrose for seven years, had never made love with the boy, didn’t even know if that were possible. “It’s as I said. I decided to take a longer furlough than planned.” “That doesn’t sound like you, Merrick,” Andrus said. “You’ve never been one to hide from duty. But if you feel that you can’t tell me the real reason, I’ll let it go.” He gave a small smile and refilled Merrick’s juice. Merrick sighed. He supposed it would do no harm to tell Andrus the truth. In fact, Andrus might even be able to help him. “All right. You’re right. I...um...I went home looking for someone. He wasn’t there and I thought he might have come here.” “And this someone, would it be me?” Andrus asked coyly. Merrick laughed, his guilt drifting away. “How could it? I didn’t even know you were here.” “Are you glad I was?” Merrick took a sip of his juice, his gaze on Andrus. “I am,” he said quietly, then leaned forward to kiss the man. He tasted of salty ham, and Merrick drew back, licking his lips. Andrus smiled and attacked his eggs. “So, then, this person you are looking for, who is it? Perhaps I can help.” “His name is Ambrose, he’s—” Merrick broke off as Andrus suddenly choked on his eggs. He leapt up to pound the man on the back. 143

Tears of Gold

“Sorry,” Andrus managed, through ragged coughs. He grabbed up his water and took a long drink. “What was that all about?” Merrick asked, frowning. “Went down the wrong way,” Andrus replied when he could. “Always been a problem of mine—I eat far too quickly. Don’t you remember?” Merrick eased himself back into his seat, his gaze on Andrus. He nodded. “I do remember. Your mother used to threaten to tie one hand to the table to keep you from bolting your food down.” “It didn’t work, I guess,” Andrus said. “I’m sorry, go on. This Ambrose person—who is he?” Merrick sighed, leaning back. “An old friend.” “A lover?” “No!” Merrick scoffed. “No, just a friend. He’s six years younger than me, still a child, really.” Andrus paused a moment, then swallowed his bite. “So, that makes him what, about eighteen?” “Yes. But I haven’t seen him since I left for the palace.” “Well, why do you think he’s here?” Merrick shrugged, poking at his eggs. “I don’t know. He...he was attacked back in Orma, his mother died shortly after. I didn’t see sign of him on the road to the palace, nor had he asked for me there. I thought maybe, just maybe, he would cross the mountains. We had often talked about doing so.” He shrugged again, realizing just how fruitless his journey had been. It was a big world. Ambrose could have gone 144

Dana Erikson

anywhere, any direction. Finding him would be a miracle. He started when Andrus reached out to clasp his hand. “He sounds important to you.” “It’s just that I promised his mother I would look out for him. I guess I feel that I let her down. Now, she’s dead and he’s missing. I feel somehow responsible.” He hesitated, not quite sure how to say what needed saying. Finally, he decided that after what had occurred between him and Andrus the previous night, he could just be blunt. “Andrus, there are rumors east of the mountains that the west deals in slaves. Is this true?” Andrus stared at him, aghast. “True? How could it be true, Merrick? Slavery is against the law. Besides, it’s...it’s unethical and amoral. And if it was here, anywhere near here, I would know of it.” Merrick relaxed, hearing the sincerity in the man’s voice. “That makes me feel infinitely better, Andrus. I was afraid that...that Ambrose had somehow fallen prey to such a thing.” “I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll put the word out on the streets, Merrick, asking if anyone has heard of a boy named Ambrose, seen him,” Andrus said softly. “If he’s in Andrustown, I’ll find him. If he’s passed through, I’ll know of it. And if he’s fallen prey to any lord who thinks he can get away with slavery, I’ll find out about it. It will be reported. Slavery, bah.” He shuddered theatrically. Merrick sighed, and squeezed Andrus’ hand. 145

Tears of Gold

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” Andrus smiled, then leaned forward and planted a kiss on Merrick’s lips. “What are friends for, eh?”

146

Dana Erikson

Chapter Thirteen strode into Ambrose’s stall, taking care to Andrus latch the door behind him. The young man still

lay curled up on his straw pallet, his blanket pulled close, eyes closed. Andrus had taken to settling him down for the night with his arms crossed and locked behind him. He was well aware of the bulging muscles developed by near continuous training. Loose, Ambrose might be a considerable foe, and Andrus was not willing to take that chance. He studied the young man a moment longer, then hunkered down beside him. Carefully, he pulled back the blanket, shocked to see that the man had an almost full erection. Fury swept over Andrus. So, Ambrose could harden with a dream lover, yet not with him? He clenched his jaw a moment, considering. He could never get undressed and positioned in time to take advantage of this. And he had to admit that his backside still throbbed from Merrick’s earlier use of it. Still, he didn’t want to let this opportunity escape him. With a malicious smile, he closed his mouth over Ambrose, driving the man’s penis deep into his throat. Ambrose came awake with a gasp, trying to wrench away, held not only by the chains that bound him, but by Andrus’ firm grip. Almost immediately, 147

Tears of Gold

Ambrose went limp, his erection dying in Andrus’ mouth. Andrus pulled back, sucking hard, taking some comfort in the whimper of pain Ambrose uttered. The man’s penis popped from his mouth like a cork, and Ambrose squirmed away. Andrus regarded him thoughtfully, then straightened. “I won’t be training you today,” he said, adjusting his robes. “I have a guest whom I will be showing about the opal mines. I think you know him. His name is Merrick Underson.” Ambrose sucked in his breath, his eyes going wide, but he said nothing. Still, his startled response was answer enough. Ambrose was indeed the same man, the boy whom Merrick sought. Andrus supposed he could come clean, tell Merrick that he knew exactly where Ambrose was, but he was concerned about Merrick’s reaction at finding his young friend being used as Andrus’ whore. On the other hand, with Merrick here to satisfy his sexual cravings, maybe Andrus had no further need of Ambrose. He could allow Ambrose to be the pony, and only the pony. It was a win-win situation. Still...his gaze slid over the young man, over the bronzed, athletic body, the now flaccid penis that had held such strength and size. And that was only half erect. Andrus wondered what it was like when fully erect, wet and ready. The mere thought sent butterflies to his stomach. No, he could not release Ambrose yet. Besides, he reasoned, if he did, Ambrose was sure to regale Merrick with tales of his 148

Dana Erikson

abuse at Andrus’ hands. And that could be very bad for the budding new relationship, not to mention in dealings with the king. He needed to know just how well Ambrose knew the man to calculate his next move. “So, you recognize the name, then?” he asked, seating himself on a hay bale. Ambrose swallowed, but quickly answered when Andrus reached for the riding whip that hung on the wall outside of Ambrose’s reach. “Yes, I recognize the name. He...he lived in my village.” At Andrus’ raised eyebrow, he quickly added, “Master.” “And you knew him well?” Ambrose flushed, but he kept his gaze on Andrus’, obviously remembering his earlier command and punishment. “We...were just friends, Master, that’s all.” “Friends? He’s come a long way looking for just a friend, Ambrose. He’s even deserted, just to look for you.” He straightened and approached Ambrose, caressing the straps of the riding crop against the palm of his hand. “Are you sure you weren’t more than just friends?” He let the straps stroke Ambrose’s bare shoulders, dangle against his chest. Ambrose trembled. “No, Master, we were no more than that. He...he said I was too young to know what I wanted.” The words were spoken with a great deal of pain. Pain that excited Andrus in the very pit of his being. Pain he wanted to increase. He chose his words 149

Tears of Gold

carefully. “Indeed? Did you know that I lived near Orma as a child? In fact, I knew Merrick. We got along quite well. And I...” he emphasized the word by leaning close, “...wasn’t too young. I gave him his first lover’s mark.” He leaned close to Ambrose’s ear. “And opened his passage for pleasure,” he whispered, then sucked Ambrose’s earlobe into his mouth. He felt Ambrose’s trembling increase, then heard a gasp as he bit into the tender skin. He drew back, smiling. “And now, we’ve reconnected, Ambrose, in more ways than one.” He tipped his head back and brushed his hair aside to reveal the lover’s mark that screamed its newness. “He didn’t do that,” Ambrose muttered. Andrus studied him, not even commenting on the fact that he had not used the proper title. He saw the young man’s chin quiver, as if he fought back tears. “Are you calling me a liar, Ambrose?” he asked softly, his voice threatening. Ambrose stiffened, swallowing hard. “No, Master. I...it’s just that...” “He never made love to you?” Andrus interrupted, his tone mocking. “Well, it hardly seems fit, Ambrose. You were just a child to him. You still are. Those were his words, as a matter of fact.” He let the information sink, then continued, his voice all business. “Now then, I have decided to run you with a hood at the opening race. I don’t want any debris obscuring your vision or marring that beautiful face.” He turned and opened a trunk that stood in one corner. He took out 150

Dana Erikson

a leather riding hood that would effectively cover Ambrose’s entire face, leaving only a dark mesh through which he could see and breathe. Merrick would not get a good look at this man-child he once knew. Ambrose drew back, his breathing quickening. “No, Master, please. I...I’m...I won’t be able to breathe. I’ll suffocate!” “Don’t be silly,” Andrus snapped. “This hood is designed for just this purpose.” He made to slip it over the young man’s head, but Ambrose ducked, sheer terror contorting his features. Irritation and delight swirled through Andrus at the same moment. He reached out and grabbed, not for Ambrose’s hair, but his genitals, gripping them hard enough to drop Ambrose where he stood. He straddled the young man, who lay gasping beneath him, the short lead from the neck collar straining against the iron ring in the wooden wall. “Cooperate, Ambrose,” he snarled. “It would be better for you to do so.” He yanked the hood over the blond curls, quickly connected the rings to hold it in place, then straightened. Ambrose lay on the floor, gasping, writhing, trying in vain to dislodge the hood. Andrus watched him for several minutes, then pulled him to his feet. “Stop it at once!” he ordered, shaking the young man. “I...I can’t breathe!” Ambrose gasped out, gulping for air. Andrus knew that if he kept up his antics, he 151

Tears of Gold

would pass out. He felt he should let him, but didn’t want to risk the man hurting himself when he fell. Instead, he unhooked the tether line, pushed Ambrose toward the stall railing and bent him over it, lowering his head. Although the young man still struggled, his breathing began to regulate as more blood flowed to his brain. Andrus’ gaze went of its own accord to Ambrose’s buttocks, and he reached out to caress the smooth skin. He heard a whimper from Ambrose, and laughed out loud. “You’re fortunate I’m a little too weary from being with Merrick to take you as well,” he said, and pulled Ambrose upright. He could barely see the man’s eyes through the heavy mesh, but he knew his remark had hit home by the stifled sob that escaped Ambrose. He laughed again, and backed Ambrose up to the stall wall. “I’m going to let you adjust to the hood for a few hours, since it seems to cause you such a panic. Then you’ll practice. For now...” he reattached the tether line, “...just relax. You know how to do that, I think.” He reached down and cupped Ambrose’s penis and testicles in one hand, fondled them a moment, then turned and left the stall. He hesitated outside in the corridor for a moment, listening for sobs. When they came, he felt somehow satisfied and in control. With a smile, he sauntered down the corridor that led back to the main house and Merrick. ******

152

Dana Erikson

“So,” Merrick said, “this is where it all happens, then?” He studied his surroundings, taking in the crowds lining the track, jostling for position on the stands. The track was clear, only the carts in the starting gates, waiting for their ponies. Andrus followed his gaze. “Are you still worried about your men spotting you?” Merrick started. He had quite forgotten that he was supposed to be a hunted man when he had accepted Andrus’ invitation to the races. “No! You said that— “ Andrus laughed. “Relax, Merrick. They are gone. I promise. I can spot a soldier a league away. You can relax and enjoy yourself.” Merrick’s breath rushed out in a hiss of relief, and he eased himself onto a cushion on the wooden bench. Andrus laughed, poking him in the ribs with his elbow, as he sat beside him. “Moving slowly today, Merrick,” he observed. Merrick tossed him a sour look. “And who do I have to blame for that, Andrus? At least I didn’t bleed.” Andrus laughed again, although Merrick thought he detected just a hint of annoyance. He supposed he should have been more tactful. He hadn’t meant to infer that Andrus was inadequate. Guilt lashed through him, and he reached out to grip Andrus’ hand, then leaned close. “Of course,” he whispered, “there may be time and opportunity to prove me wrong.” 153

Tears of Gold

Andrus smiled, but it lacked true acceptance. Anything else Merrick would say was cut off by the arrival of the ponies, and a raucous cheer from the crowd. He sat up straighter, eyeing the ponies critically. They were all fine specimens, muscled and well-kept. They walked proudly, not as slaves, but as the true athletes they undoubtedly were. They wore a variety of riding gear, some merely a confused crisscross of leather straps, others with ornate studded pieces. He saw the sun wink off both silver and gold on the men’s chests, and frowned, puzzled. “What are those things on their chests?” he asked Andrus. “Nipple shields,” Andrus replied. “Adornments. This is not merely for race, but for show.” Merrick winced. He had heard of nipple shields before, had actually seen a man endure the piercing. He didn’t think he had the courage to inflict such damage on himself. He wondered if the ponies had the shields by choice or by force. Tarad’s words came roaring back to Merrick. The ponies are humiliated and abused. He grimaced, and once more appraised the men as they were harnessed to their individual chariots. All had their arms bound together at their backs, presumably to keep them from using their hands. Some of them had their genitals covered, some did not. And some looked to be wearing some sort of lacing on their penis, that held the organ stiffly out in front. In addition, several of them wore hoods that completely covered their 154

Dana Erikson

faces. Again, Merrick leaned toward Andrus with questions, but the arrival of a rather portly, welldressed man interrupted his questions. “Ah, Lord Andrus!” the newcomer roared, settling his bulky frame down next to Andrus. “Drondo,” Andrus greeted dryly. “Come to watch your man lose?” Drondo laughed. “Hardly! There wasn’t a trial yesterday that came close to my pony’s time. You should know that.” He leaned forward, his gaze on Merrick. “And this would be?” Merrick saw Andrus clench his fist, but his voice was controlled when he answered. “Drondo, Torny. Torny, Lord Drondo.” Drondo grasped Merrick’s hand in his, squeezing. “Greetings, Lord Torny. Might I say that you make a handsome addition to this race.” Merrick barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes in amusement, both at the name Andrus had chosen and the title Drondo had bestowed upon him. The former had been Andrus’ pet dog when he was a child, the latter was a pretentiousness far from Merrick’s familiarity. “Thank you, Lord Drondo. But I must inform you that I am no lord. Merely an old friend of Andrus’.” “Looks like a new friend to me,” Drondo said, tapping two fingers alongside his jowly neck. Merrick flushed. He had quite forgotten the lover’s mark emblazoned on his skin. His hand moved towards it but Andrus caught it up, smiling. 155

Tears of Gold

“Leave it, Torny,” he said softly, and kissed the back of Merrick’s hand. “Drondo is just jealous. And, for the record, Drondo, Torny is twice the size of your man.” Drondo sputtered with annoyance, while Merrick turned questioning eyes on Andrus. The latter leaned close to him. “Ignore him,” he whispered. “He’s of our own persuasion and thinks everyone lusts after his fat little belly.” Merrick couldn’t help but chuckle, then gasped when Andrus guided his hand towards his crotch. He was hard and erect, and Merrick turned to him in astonishment. “See what being close to you does to me?” Andrus teased. A roar went up from the crowd, and Merrick returned his attention to the race, despite the fact that Andrus kept a firm grip on his hand, moving it gently against himself. It was not an unpleasant feeling and Merrick did not complain, although he kept his gaze on the race. One of the hooded men leapt out in front, golden chest gleaming. His feet pounded furiously into the ground, the chariot flying with wild abandon. The rider, a young woman, held onto the leads, a look of terror on her face. Another chariot came alongside, then a third, and the group closed in on the bridge over the river, taking the rise and fall in the track with ease. None of them seemed willing to slow down, or to give way to the other. It was obvious even to 156

Dana Erikson

Merrick that the bridge could hold only one chariot at a time. Someone would have to back down, and hope to make up for lost time once across. One of the chariots did just that, falling back behind the other two. The man with the gold was a few steps behind the other, and by rights, should have relinquished the bridge. But he did not, instead charging straight for it. Then suddenly, he leaned his entire body to one side. The chariot tipped, and the rider tumbled free, landing in the grass alongside the river as the pony drove onward, stabilizing the chariot with the bulging muscles in his shoulders. Andrus drew a sharp breath, coming to his feet. Merrick frowned, sensing something was wrong by the reaction of the men around him. Drondo came to his feet as well, sputtering as the two of the racers closed on the bridge, the wheels almost touching. “Leave back!” Andrus shouted, anger coating his words. Merrick stood, realizing that the golden pony must belong to his friend. There was a horrible screeching sound as the opposing wheels of the two chariots ground together, then hit the railings of the bridge. They tangled for a moment, then almost as if on purpose, the golden pony crashed through the bridge railing to the river below. A shriek of rage left Andrus’ throat, and he vaulted over the ledge, separating him from the track. Merrick watched in astonishment as he tore across the grounds, led only by the rescue squad that had been 157

Tears of Gold

positioned around the bridge for assumedly just this situation. Silence claimed the crowd as they watched the scene unfold before them. A small cheer went up as the rider was hauled to her feet, obviously unhurt, but the roar of approval was nearly deafening as the pony was pulled to shore, gasping and heaving, still dragging the chariot behind him. One of the rescue team made to remove the pony’s hood, but Andrus had arrived and slapped his hand away. Merrick watched as Andrus took the pony by both shoulders and held him, as if assessing him for injuries. A moment later, Andrus led the man away. Drondo roared with laughter, tossed a few disparaging remarks toward Andrus, then turned to Merrick. “His boasting did no good,” he laughed. “Claimed he would win this one, make a fortune. Ha! His pony doesn’t even have the sense to leave back when it’s clear he is in the fall.” He collapsed onto the bench, dragging Merrick down with him. Again, Tarad’s words came into Merrick’s mind as he watched the race restarted. If they don’t perform well, they’re put to death. He looked at Drondo, his heart hammering. “What will happen to the man?” he asked. “Man?” Drondo looked at him, clearly puzzled. “The man. The pony,” Merrick said. “Men and ponies are two different things, Torny. Make no mistake about that,” Drondo wheezed. “He will be punished, no doubt. After all, he did that 158

Dana Erikson

plunge on purpose.” “Why? That river looks dangerous.” “It is.” Drondo shrugged. “Sometimes the ponies think they can escape on the river. It doesn’t happen. If the rescuers don’t get to them first, the river will.” A cold chill rushed over Merrick, and he swallowed hard, glancing again at the track, where the carts were now rumbling up a steep hill. “I thought that the ponies were paid for their part in this,” he said slowly. “Why should they need to escape? You speak of them as if they were slaves.” Drondo shot him a questioning glance. “Paid? I guess you could say that, in that they have food and shelter. But they’re slaves, Torny, that’s all they are.” He paused a moment, his eyes narrowing, then continued, “Slaves to their own search for glory. They’re like thoroughbreds, Torny. They’d kill themselves in their quest for perfection.” “But you said escape,” Merrick pointed out. “I don’t understand.” “Escape their own failure, Torny, that’s all I meant by that,” Drondo said, then was once again on his feet as the race resumed. Merrick felt like he’d been delivered a blow to the gut. His gaze drifted towards the building into which Andrus and the golden pony had disappeared, and he rose. Drondo looked up at him. “Where are you going? The race isn’t over yet.” “I thought I would go check on Andrus.” Drondo shook his head. “You can’t get in there. It’s 159

Tears of Gold

reserved only for handlers and their ponies. He’ll be back shortly. Sit down. Enjoy the race.” He patted the cushion next to him. For a moment, Merrick hesitated, then he reseated himself, although his gut churned in apprehension. He was barely aware of Drondo’s hand resting lightly on his thigh. ****** Andrus shoved Ambrose into the stall, his fury overwhelming him. “What the hell did you think you were doing out there?” he snarled, then strode forward. He unhooked the hood from the collar and tore it off, taking some hair with it. He flung the hood to one side, then backhanded Ambrose hard enough to knock him to the floor. “It was an accident, Master,” Ambrose said, then spit blood from his mouth. “An accident?” Andrus roared. He seized Ambrose by the hair and pulled him upright. “Do you take me for a fool, Ambrose? What were you hoping? That the current would pull you away? Did you ever stop to think that the chariot would simply pull you under? You risked your life, your rider’s life and...” he paused, bringing his mouth close to Ambrose’s face, “...my money. A lot of it. What should I do about that, Ambrose?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but dragged Ambrose to the water trough and forced him to his knees. “You like water, Ambrose. Let’s see how well!” 160

Dana Erikson

He grabbed Ambrose by the hair and plunged his head into the cold water. He left the young man just long enough to see him begin to squirm in panic, then pulled him out. Ambrose gagged, choking and coughing, but before he could fully regain his breath, Andrus drove him into the water again. This time Ambrose’s thrashing was more pronounced, and Andrus yanked him out. The young man was gasping, his eyes wide with terror. It satisfied Andrus’ anger for now. He straightened, dragging Ambrose up with him, and prodded the young man towards the straw pallet. Once there, he tethered him, and unbound his arms, guessing that Ambrose was now too exhausted to even attempt to attack him. He was right. Ambrose huddled forward, water dripping from his hair onto his already sodden leather straps. He looked so forlorn that Andrus’ heart did an unexpected leap. Still, he wasn’t stupid enough to put himself within arms reach of the man. He picked up a blanket and tossed it at Ambrose. “Get some sleep. You’re out of the race for now. I’ll be thinking on your punishment, and I’ll be back later. Perhaps you could think of way to apologize in the meantime.” Ambrose said nothing, still refusing to lift his gaze. Anger tightened Andrus’ jaw and he snatched up a long riding crop. He swung it, snapped Ambrose smartly on the right shoulder. The young man gasped, his head jerking up, his body twisting to one 161

Tears of Gold

side. He seemed to know right away what Andrus sought. “Apologies, Master,” he managed. “I’m...just very tired.” Andrus looked at the rod in his hands, his anger unabated. Usually slaves who tried to escape had the soles of their feet caned, making it impossible for them to walk for may days. It was obvious that wouldn’t be practical for Ambrose, who needed to run. In fact, there weren’t many punishments that Andrus could inflict that wouldn’t hamper his running, and he seemed to know that. The mere idea sent Andrus’ anger to white-hot fury. He tapped the crop against his palm, glaring at the young man, who defiantly returned his gaze. Then suddenly it came to him what he would do as punishment. But he had to have it done while Merrick was engaged elsewhere. The last thing he wanted was for Merrick to see Ambrose. Still, it irked him that he could not be present at the punishment. He replaced the crop, turned and hurried from the stall, without another word to Ambrose. It didn’t take him long to reach the stands, where Merrick stood at once, eyes questioning. Andrus smiled, and answered the question before it could be asked, wondering just how much Drondo had shared. “He’s fine. A little shook up, but not injured. I’m letting him rest.” He chuckled. “He’s new to this and didn’t realize the protocol for crossing the bridge. He only wanted to be first across. He is definitely the 162

Dana Erikson

competitive type.” “Then it wasn’t on purpose?” Merrick asked. “Drondo said he might be punished for— “ Andrus drew back, as if stunned by the allegation. “Punished? For what? For trying to win this race for me?” He glared at Drondo. “I have told you before, Drondo, the way to a winning pony is not through chastisement of their mistakes, but through praise of their successes.” He looked again at Merrick. “I do not punish my ponies, Torny. If I did, I would have no ponies to race. Do you really think they would want me to sponsor them if I punished them?” Merrick opened his mouth for another question, but Andrus shushed him with one finger to his lips, then reached over and pushed Drondo’s hand from Merrick’s leg. Later that evening, after they had dined and worked off that dinner with each other, Andrus’ thoughts turned to the form of punishment he had devised for Ambrose. He kissed Merrick lightly on the shoulder, waking him from light slumber. “What is it?” Merrick muttered, his voice groggy. Andrus smiled to himself. Merrick would be hard pressed to come fully awake for hours with a belly full of sleeping aids. Aids that had kept the questioning of punishment and slavery at bay the entire dinner. “I need to go and check on my pony, Merrick,” Andrus whispered. “Now? It’s the middle of the night,” Merrick protested, turning to face him. 163

Tears of Gold

“I’m worried about him. I just want to make sure he’s sleeping well. I won’t be long.” Merrick smiled lazily at him, then traced one finger alongside Andrus’ jaw. “You’re good to your men, Andrus.” Andrus chuckled, and kissed the roving finger. “I try to be, Merrick. They’re very important to me.” He leaned forward and kissed Merrick on the lips, but the man was already falling again under the spell of the drugs. Andrus waited a moment more, then stole from the bed and quickly dressed. He snatched up the large sandtimer he’d left on the floor beneath the bed. It took him less than fifteen minutes to reach the stalls, but he bypassed them. He had already given instructions to his Enforcer and knew that both he and Ambrose waited by a deep eddy alongside the river. A flicker of light from several torches proved he was correct. He hurried forward, rounded a bend in the path, and entered a small copse of trees. From there, it was only several paces to water’s edge. A long plank stretched out, one end resting on a swivel, the other on a large block of stone, making it level. Ambrose was securely bound to the plank, his face a ghostly white in the moonlight. His gaze met Andrus’ when the man stopped beside him. Andrus smiled. “Your punishment for your earlier disobedience, Ambrose,” he said softly. He motioned the Enforcer closer, making sure that Ambrose heard every word. 164

Dana Erikson

“Where are the children?” “Suspended over the water as you commanded, M’Lord,” the man replied with a stiff bow. Andrus turned. “Ah, yes. Do you see them, Ambrose?” He took hold of Ambrose’s hair and lifted his head enough that he could see the thick, black bag hanging high over the water. It was close enough for the torchlight to reach, close enough to see the bag moving as if someone thrashed about inside. Andrus looked into Ambrose’s horror-stricken eyes. “Should you think on maybe swallowing that water and courting your own death, the children inside that bag will die as well. It’s a long, hard drop to the rocks and water below. Not to mention the fact that even if they do survive the fall, they’ll never make it out of the bag before they drown.” He made sure his threat registered, then looked again at the Enforcer, his words crisp and cold. “Thirty minutes, random dips. He is to be returned to his stall afterward, and thoroughly dried. Is that clear?” He glanced again at Ambrose. “After all, we wouldn’t him to get sick now, would we?” The Enforcer nodded, again sketching a bow. Andrus bent and crushed his mouth against Ambrose’s. “Have fun,” he whispered. “I know I will be. After all, I’ll be with Merrick.” He released his hold on Ambrose’s hair, flipped the timer over and strode away. Once in the cover of the trees, he turned to watch. The plank swung out over the water, and the Enforcer 165

Tears of Gold

let Ambrose’s head and shoulders dip into the cold water. Andrus smiled when the plank was again made level, and he heard Ambrose coughing and sputtering. Andrus’ gaze went to the black bag, knowing it was in Ambrose’s direct line of sight. No matter that it was merely several hardy cats from about the compound. Any frustrated meows and snarls could not be heard over the rush of water below. And as long as Ambrose believed them to be children, that was all that mattered. It would keep his prized pony alive, Andrus was sure of it. With a satisfied smile, he turned and walked away

166

Dana Erikson

Chapter Fourteen

M

errick strolled through the busy streets, alert but not worried, despite having been robbed on his first night here. Apparently the citizens of this township had heard of his relationship with Andrus and they were falling all over each other to keep him happy. And happy he would have been, were it not for Drondo’s words that kept hammering at his mind. They’re slaves, that’s all they are... He had not had a chance to quiz Andrus on it after the race—the man had disappeared until dinnertime, involved in a lengthy meeting with Lord Drondo and some of the other handlers. And then, Merrick was too involved otherwise to even think about it. Morning had come, but when Merrick woke, Andrus was already gone. For lack of better things to do, Merrick had decided a stroll in the township might help him focus. He had done nothing more here than roll in bed with Andrus, something that was quite out of character for him. True, he had spent time with other soldiers, as lonely for companionship as he’d been, but never before had sex seemed to be in his every waking thought. Even now, just the mere thought of it sent an ache to his loins. He sighed, adjusted his clothing and walked on. Andrus had laid out robes for him, but he had preferred his clothing. He wasn’t used to wearing the 167

Tears of Gold

robes that seemed to be the custom here for both men and women. Still, he had to admit that they looked far cooler than his own trousers and shirt were. The heat was barely tolerable now, and completely unbearable in the afternoon. Which was one of the reasons why the pony racing was done in early evening, once the day had begun to cool. Thoughts of the ponies brought his mind back around to the question of slavery. He needed to talk to Andrus about it, yet he hated to keep bringing it up. Andrus had told him straight out that there were no slaves here, and Merrick had certainly not seen any evidence of such in his wanderings. Still, there was something about the way Drondo had spoken of the ponies, as if he had been caught off-guard by Merrick’s reaction to his words. He stopped before a clothing store, drawn by the clear blue color of a shirt hanging near the doorway. He touched the garment with one finger. It reminded him of Ambrose’s eyes. He had always loved the color of the boy’s eyes. Especially when they were filled with joy. He wondered if he would ever see that again. Pain lanced his heart, and he turned away. His gaze drifted over the busy streets, finally coming to rest on what appeared to be a drinking establishment. As the sun was relentless at the moment and he was feeling every searing ray, he decided a cool drink in the shade would benefit. He crossed the street, dodging carts being pushed and pulled by men of different age and stature. He 168

Dana Erikson

absently wondered if they were free men as he ducked into the shadows. A small table sat back from the road, surrounded by some sort of greenish-gray vegetation, and he sank down with a sigh of relief. The barkeep noticed at once and sent a girl round to take his order. He smiled at her approach, then slapped at a sudden sting on his neck. Apparently the bugs were happier in the shade as well. “Morning, M’Lord,” the girl said cheerily. “What can I get for you?” He shrugged. “Something cold.” “Well, we’ve lots of that, M’Lord. Ale, ades, wine and good clean water.” She waited but Merrick’s gaze had fastened on her golden curls, which bobbed with each move of her head. Ambrose had curls such as those. Beautiful, golden curls that gleamed with almost the same brilliance as...he shook himself, and answered the girl. “Ade would be fine, any kind.” She nodded and flounced away, maximizing the sway of her hips. Merrick chuckled to himself. How could she know that her charms had no effect on him? He leaned back, watching the people in the streets. He studied each man who pulled or pushed a cart, each woman who hawked wares from a stand, each child who scampered hurriedly toward some unknown goal. He saw no punishment, no scolding, no chastisement of any sort, other than a mother’s words to her wayward child. No, these weren’t slaves. They were just people. People getting on with their lives. 169

Tears of Gold

Even the staff in Andrus’ compound seemed to be treated fairly. He had heard nothing to suggest otherwise. He had not even heard Andrus raise his voice in anger at any of them. But he still wondered about the ponies. How were they treated? Were they indeed athletes? Were they provided for? He had seen athletes before, on some of his missions. They had always strutted proudly, being fawned over by all who passed. They were almost worshipped in some areas. But here? Merrick had not been close enough to really see any distinguishing features on any of the men who pulled the chariots, but he thought he would notice those distinctive nipple shields worn by some. He had seen not a sign of those anywhere since his arrival. Of course, most of the men he saw wore robes. Still, he would think that such an adornment, such a status symbol of their position, would be shown off. He shrugged. Then again, maybe the ponies were more modest than most athletes. “M’Lord,” the girl said, returning with his drink. She placed a tall tankard on the table, then waved one hand at him when he reached for the small purse he carried, a purse rescued by Andrus from the robber. “No, it’s been taken care of, M’Lord.” “Taken care of?” Merrick echoed, confused. “By whom?” “By me,” Andrus said, slipping out of the shadows behind him. Merrick started, standing, whirling and drawing at 170

Dana Erikson

the same time. The small table toppled, the tankard hitting the hard ground and sending ade in all directions. The girl squealed, leaping back, then shrieked at the sight of the dagger in Merrick’s hand. Even Andrus drew back, his face alarmed, one hand raised as if to stop the blow. “What the hell is that for?” he demanded, his voice belying his fear. Merrick drew a steadying breath, trying to catch his breath. He had checked his throw in the nick of time. “Gods, Andrus!” he snapped. “You don’t sneak up on...” he shot a glance at the girl, tempering his words, “...on me like that. Not if you value your life.” Andrus hesitated a moment, then flicked his hand at the girl. “Go on, bring us two more,” he ordered. She scampered off, and he slowly moved to right the table. Merrick resheathed the dagger, then reset the chairs. He fell into one, trembling. Andrus sat across from him. Neither of them spoke until after the girl had replaced the lost drinks, and hurried away. Merrick reached for his, but was stopped by Andrus’ hand on his wrist. He looked up into the man’s face. “I’m sorry,” Andrus said softly. “I should have known better. I really should have. I guess I just didn’t think you would be armed.” Merrick sighed. “I’m always armed, Andrus.” At that, Andrus quirked a smile. “Yes, but by which weapon?” It took a moment for the meaning to sink in, but 171

Tears of Gold

when it did, Merrick laughed, relaxing. He cuffed Andrus gently on the side of the head, and took a long pull of his newly arrived drink. Andrus did the same, then pulled his chair to the side of the table, so he shared Merrick’s view of the streets. “So,” Andrus started, “why are you armed? Do you not trust my township?” Merrick shrugged. “I don’t know that I trust any township, Andrus.” He wiped at his neck where the bug had stung him. It now burned. Andrus frowned. “What’s wrong?” “Damned bugs,” Merrick growled. He picked up his tankard and placed the cold metal against his skin. “Let me look,” Andrus said, pushing the tankard aside. Merrick yielded to Andrus’ gentle touch, his gaze on the man’s face only inches away. He felt his shaft begin to harden, and caught his breath. Gods! What was wrong with him? Must every touch from Andrus bring this result? He pushed Andrus away, and took another sip of his ade, hoping the cold liquid would calm him. Andrus seemed nonplussed at Merrick’s actions and sat back. “We should get you back up to the house. I have a salve for that.” Merrick sighed, reaching up to scratch, but Andrus stayed his hand. “It’ll only make it worse,” he said, and laced his fingers through Merrick’s as if to keep him tethered. Merrick’s gaze fell to his hand, to Andrus’ lean 172

Dana Erikson

fingers wrapped about his. While Merrick’s skin had the sunbrowned tone of one used to being outside, Andrus’ was pale, although Merrick knew that muscles hid beneath the robes. Even if Andrus was spoiled, he took great pains to make sure he was in fighting shape. Which was apt, Merrick supposed. A wealthy man could never be too careful. “Where are your thoughts, Merrick?” Andrus asked softly. Merrick chuckled and dragged Andrus’ hand beneath the table, to rest on his erection. The mere touch sent fire through him. Andrus laughed outright, and leaned close. “Now you see why we wear robes. How will you walk with all the town knowing your desires?” “I think my lover’s mark announces that already,” Merrick replied, pushing against Andrus’ hand. Andrus raised his tankard with his free hand and took a sip. At the same time, he disengaged his fingers from Merrick’s and slipped his hand into Merrick’s pocket. The loose fabric now separating his groping fingers and Merrick’s penis was thin, and when Andrus closed his hand around the organ, Merrick nearly groaned out loud. “Andrus,” he managed. “This isn’t the place.” Andrus smiled at him. “Why not? No one is paying us any attention. And even if they were, they would probably enjoy the show. So, let them.” He pulled the pocket inside out, the reached slowly for Merrick’s dagger. With a seductive grin, he took the blade and 173

Tears of Gold

deftly sliced a large hole in the pocket. Merrick started, his brow furrowing. “What the hell are you doing? These are expensive—’’ Andrus shushed him, resheathed the dagger and once more reached into the pocket. Only this time, his hand slipped through the hole he had created, and he began to stroke Merrick’s shaft, skin to skin. For Merrick, the effects were almost immediate. “Oh, by the gods, Andrus,” he moaned. He had a fleeting notion to stop Andrus, but somehow he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he leaned both arms on the table, gripping his tankard between his hands. The sounds around him seemed to fade away, the movements of the passersby became no more than a blur and he relinquished himself to Andrus’ touch. Andrus moved slowly, stroking first with firm movements, then with soft, teasing ones. He rubbed with his thumb, drawing moisture from the tip of Merrick’s penis, down the shaft. He circled the entire penis, first with just finger and thumb, then with his whole hand, alternating squeezes with strokes. Merrick opened his mouth to ease his labored breathing, then caught sight of Andrus’ half-parted lips. He watched, fascinated, as Andrus’ tongue came out, moving like a small pink serpent to stroke already wet lips, to caress white teeth. Merrick moved his hands to the edge of the table, and gripped it hard, barely noticing that he was flexing and un-flexing his hands in rhythm with Andrus’ hand motions beneath 174

Dana Erikson

the table. His breathing grew quicker as Andrus increased the speed of his ministrations. Merrick could feel the tension mounting, could feel the beginnings of his climax. A groan escaped him, and he shuddered in anticipation. Then, Andrus abruptly leaned forward and claimed his lips. He shoved his tongue into Merrick’s mouth at the same moment he drove his hand down Merrick’s shaft. Merrick’s moan of ecstasy was lost in Andrus’ mouth as his ejaculate filled Andrus’ hand, and he allowed Andrus to pump him dry. For several long moments, he was completely lost in his satiation, then slowly he spiraled down as Andrus released his mouth. Andrus smiled and continued to stroke, using Merrick’s own sperm as a lubricant. Merrick trembled, and took a drink from his tankard, hands shaking. “How’s that bite feeling, Merrick?” Andrus asked quietly, pulling his hand free and wiping it casually on his robe. Merrick started, one hand moving towards his neck. He had quite forgotten about the bite. He grinned at Andrus, and again cuffed him gently, then looked down at the stain on his pants. “And now, how am I to get back to your home? I can’t walk through the streets like this.” Andrus smiled, reached out and toppled Merrick’s tankard, sending the remains of his cold ade into his lap. Merrick leapt up with a yelp, knocking his chair 175

Tears of Gold

to the ground. The barkeep and the serving girl looked his way, as Andrus leapt to his assistance. “By the gods!” Andrus cried. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Gods! Girl, bring me a cloth!” She rushed over to them, ready to dab at Merrick’s trousers herself, but Merrick quickly snatched the towel away. “I’m fine, Andrus,” he said, stifling his laughter. “It was just cold.” “I am so sorry,” Andrus said again, his tone truly chagrined. “Let’s get you back to the house where you can change into something dry.” Merrick nodded, dabbed once more at the wet spot, then followed Andrus back through the streets toward the compound. ****** It was only after a bath and a change of clothing, that his thoughts went again to Ambrose. He had donned robes this time, his own clothing far too warm for the late afternoon, and as he touched at the fine fabric, he saw again the blue shirt hanging in the store. With a sigh, he walked to the balcony of his room, and leaned on the railing. From here, he could see the river, flowing south and east. Somewhere beyond the arid lands and the mountains was Orma. He wondered if Tarad had rejoined the troops, if he had found out anything in Ossey. He felt detached 176

Dana Erikson

somehow, as if the incidents of the previous weeks had happened to someone else. He had to remind himself that he was yet a king’s man, that he had a mission to fulfill. And not just to the king, but to himself. And to Ambrose. His heart ached at thoughts of his young friend. He had asked in town if anyone had heard of a boy named Ambrose and always the answer had been no. Just as answers to the issue of slavery had always been no. No, not here, not in Andrustown, perhaps elsewhere, but not here. He had heard the same refrain time and again. He had to accept it. There was no slavery issue in Andrustown, and he had seen no one who even remotely resembled the men who had brutalized Ambrose, the same men he and Tarad had seen riding through the pass. Perhaps they were long gone. Perhaps the whole slavery issue was much further west than Andrustown. If so, he was wasting his time. Time that Ambrose might have run out of. Perhaps if he found the dealers who dealt in human flesh, he might find some answers. But that would mean leaving here, this place, Andrus. He shook his head, confused. What was this attachment he had to the man? He had not thought of Andrus in years, not since the man had left Orma as a youth. The parting had been painful. Merrick had been betrayed, a betrayal that even now left him feeling angry and sad. He could still see the passionate embrace between Andrus and Hinta, could still hear them as they made love in the meadow—his meadow. 177

Tears of Gold

Just the thought of Andrus being with a woman had left Merrick confused and enraged. And when Hinta had announced that she was carrying Andrus’ child, Merrick had been devastated. It didn’t matter one bit that Hinta’s father had banned the marriage, had run Andrus from town. Andrus had betrayed Merrick, had taken their love and torn it to shreds. His mouth twisted in a grim smile. So, now, why was he so enamored with the man? Why had he fallen back into the throes of passion so easily? He had thought he would never forgive Andrus, never let him get close again. Yet, here he was, falling into bed with the man every time he blinked. Yes, he was gorgeous to look at, he had a wonderful sense of humor, and he was quite gifted at pleasing his partner. Still, there was something missing. A depth, a caring, an aching...he started. Exactly what he felt whenever he thought of Ambrose! He sagged, a groan of dismay escaping him. Would he never be able to let go of Ambrose? Of his memory? For all Merrick knew, Ambrose could have his own lover, or even a wife. Merrick didn’t even know for sure which persuasion Ambrose belonged to. But one thing was sure, if Merrick were to have any kind of relationship with any other man, he needed to clear his heart of Ambrose first. To do that, he had to find him. He spun away from the railing, and went back into the spacious bedroom. He picked up his dagger, then realized that he really had no place to strap it. Andrus 178

Dana Erikson

had claimed all of his clothing, including his belt, to give it a thorough cleaning. Grimacing, Merrick laid the dagger back down, and left the room, feeling naked and exposed. He caught the first servant he encountered. “Excuse me, where can I find Lord Andrus?” The servant gave a quick bow. “He is at the stables, M’Lord.” Merrick sagged. He knew he was not allowed there during racing season. “Could someone fetch him for me, please? And fetch my own clothes as well. Oh, and ready my horse.” The servant eyed him curiously. “Is M’Lord leaving?” Merrick cringed at the question, then nodded. “Yes, for a while.” He turned away, then hesitated, once more facing the servant. “Can you tell me something? Is there an active slave trade near here, someplace I could perhaps speak to the sellers?” The man paled, averting his gaze. “I know of no such place, M’Lord,” he managed. “Slavery is against the law.” Merrick frowned, hearing the tremor in the man’s voice. “But occasionally the law is broken,” he said slowly. “No!” the man cried at once, backing away. “Not here! I will fetch Lord Andrus.” He spun and bolted as if the very demons of hell were nipping at his heels. Merrick stared after him in confusion. He needed 179

Tears of Gold

answers and he needed them now. Something was not right here. He hurried down the wide staircase, across the foyer and out into the main courtyard. His gaze went to the stables yet again. He didn’t want to talk to Andrus after all, not yet. It seemed that any conversation with the man inevitably ended up in bed or some semblance of it. Merrick chastised himself for his lack of chastity and crossed the courtyard towards the outer gates of the compound. The guard snapped to attention, eyeing him in open question. “Good afternoon,” Merrick said, smiling. “May I pass through, please?” He made to walk around the guard and through the gate, but found his way blocked by the guard. He looked at the man for an answer. The man stood his ground, one hand on his dagger hilt. “The compound is now closed until the races. No one is to come in or go out. I’m sorry, M’Lord.” Merrick fell back a step. “I see. And why is that? I wanted only to escape this heat at the drinkery in town.” “I have my orders, M’Lord,” the man said. “I do not question them. If you will return to the house, I am sure that the staff can prepare you anything you would be apt to find in town.” “I’m sure they would,” Merrick said coldly. “But I would still like to make that decision on my own. Stand aside.” The guard stiffened, although a look of trepidation crossed his face. “I cannot do that, M’Lord.” 180

Dana Erikson

“Then I shall do it for you,” Merrick snarled, but before he could move, Andrus’ cry of alarm echoed through the compound. Merrick grimaced and turned to see Andrus hurrying towards him. “Merrick!” the man cried, reaching him nearly out of breath. He gripped Merrick’s arm in a fierce grip, his dark eyes wild with panic. “I was told you were leaving! Why? What’s wrong? What’s happened? Did someone say or do something to upset you?” Merrick’s gaze shifted to the guard, who seemed vastly relieved that Andrus had arrived. “It seems that I am not allowed outside the compound. Why is that?” Andrus’ face relaxed. “Oh, is that all? Pony rules. All compounds are closed three hours prior to the race. We can’t be too careful with our ponies, Merrick.” “What do you mean?” Andrus pulled on him, encouraging him to move away from the gates. “Sabotage isn’t unheard of, Merrick. There are those who would do much to elevate their own ponies in placement. Three years back, someone managed to get inside, and they fed all of my ponies a sleeping herb. They were asleep for hours. I lost everything bet on that race, Merrick. Everything. So, now the compound is closed three hours before any major race is to begin. It protects the ponies from harm.” “I see.” Merrick walked slowly alongside the man, his mind churning. He wondered why now, walking 181

Tears of Gold

close to Andrus, having the man’s arm linked through his, watching his robe fall open and closed with each step—he wondered why now he was not aroused in the slightest. Usually, the man’s mere touch sent fire raging through him. “Why did you want to leave anyway?” Andrus asked. “Are you unhappy here?” “No,” Merrick answered, feeling a twinge of guilt at the misery in Andrus’ voice. “No, I am not unhappy here. I just feel that I need to get on with my search, that’s all. I can’t do it sitting here behind your walls.” Andrus was quiet for a moment, in which the two men entered the coolness of the shade garden. “You wish to continue to search for Ambrose, then?” He sat down on a marble bench, looking up at Merrick. “Just what is so special about this man that you cannot get him from your thoughts? That you would risk being found by your men and hauled in for desertion?” “I told you. I feel responsible for him,” Merrick replied. Andrus studied him thoughtfully. “No, there’s more to it than that. I don’t remember this boy. When did he arrive in Orma?” Merrick shrugged. “About six months after you left.” “And you forged a bond that quickly with him?” Merrick did not miss the blunt bitterness in the words. “Yes, I guess I did. Maybe it’s because of my loss at the time.” 182

Dana Erikson

Andrus actually winced, averting his gaze. “I deserved that. I...I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could have apologized to you about what happened. Gods! I don’t even know why it happened myself. I just...” He paused, then went on. “She was there and insistent. I had never been with a girl before. Maybe I just wanted to test myself, be sure of my own desires. I don’t know. It was just my bad luck that she became with child on the first go round. I knew straight away there would be no more contact with her. It didn’t feel right, Merrick. Not like being with you. And then, once her father and brother made it quite clear I was no longer welcome in Orma, I had to make a new place for myself. It wasn’t easy, but I did manage.” He looked up at Merrick. “Still, in all of this time, I’ve never forgotten you.” “You never sought me out either,” Merrick pointed out. “I had no right to do so,” Andrus said softly. “I betrayed you. I know that. I hurt you. I know that, too. Now...now I just want to be able to make things right between us. I’d do anything to accomplish that, Merrick. Anything.” He held out one hand, his gaze full of despair. Merrick studied him for a long moment, then clasped his hand and sagged onto the bench beside him. He wasn’t quite sure what to say, how to ease the pain that bit at his heart. For a moment, he was quiet, and when he finally spoke, it was about Ambrose, not about the past. “He was never my 183

Tears of Gold

lover, Andrus. He was far too young. I don’t even know for certain if his desires lie with men or not. It’s just that...” he rubbed at his neck, “...I made a promise. I let him down. I wasn’t there. Maybe I could have stopped the attack. I don’t know.” “These attackers...who are they? I mean, why attack him?” “They were imposters. They rode in with the king’s standard, claiming that he had outlawed same sex relationships, that anyone taking part in such were to be arrested. They took three of the village youth, Ambrose included.” Andrus had paled at the words. “Outlawed? Why would he do that?” Merrick chose his words carefully. “I don’t think he did anything of the sort. That’s what I don’t understand, what I need to find out. Why did these men lie about it? What’s their purpose? Where did they take the three men? What do they want with them? Did they have more? There’s just so many unanswered questions.” Andrus sat back, seeming to contemplate the information, then he shot a sidelong glance at Merrick. “Are you really on extended furlough?” Merrick swallowed hard, but answered. “Yes. I was on my way back to the palace when I saw the men who attacked Ambrose going over the pass. They came this way. I had to follow.” He didn’t think he needed to tell Andrus that he had actually returned to the palace and filled the king in on the 184

Dana Erikson

rumors Tarad had reported. Besides, from the looks of things, those rumors were greatly exaggerated. Of course, Jilda had said the same thing...he shook himself and listened to what Andrus was saying. Andrus shrugged. “Just because they came this way doesn’t mean that Ambrose did.” “I know, I know. It was a long shot, I’ll admit.” He sighed, leaning his head in his hands. “I just need to find him before it’s too late.” “Too late? For what? Can’t he fight?” At that, Merrick laughed. “Ambrose was no fighter when I knew him. I have no reason to believe he ever learned after I left. He was a gentle soul. Fighting and opposition were not his way. I don’t think he had a cross word to say to anyone. He probably never even fought his own attackers. That’s why I took soldier training. He needed a protector. I thought I could do it. I was wrong.” “Merrick,” Andrus said slowly, “there comes a time when all men must grow up. I’m sure that Ambrose learned to take care of himself. Besides, a poor man on the road is often overlooked. It’s the rich who must be wary.” “The rich,” Merrick mumbled. He hesitated a moment, needing to make Andrus understand why finding Ambrose was so important. Perhaps if he did, he would help, send out some of his men, something, anything. He turned on the bench so he was facing the man. “Andrus, there’s something about Ambrose that only a few know. It’s one of the reasons why I 185

Tears of Gold

needed to protect him, why his mother sought my help. I know this is going to sound strange, but he...well, he cries tears of gold.” Andrus frowned. “He does what?” “Cries tears of gold,” Merrick said, wondering at the incredible relief he felt in being able to finally share this secret he’d harbored for so many years. “Real gold. Tiny flakes of it.” Andrus stared at him a moment, then began to laugh. “You jest, Merrick. Why?” Merrick gripped his arm. “No! No, it’s true, Andrus. I’ve seen it.” “You’ve seen it?” Merrick nodded. “Only three times, but yes, I have seen it. And that is why I must find him. Can you think what would happen should Ambrose be captured by the unscrupulous?” Andrus was quite for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful. Then he reached over and clasped Merrick’s hand. “I understand now, Merrick. You’re right. He must be found. After the races tonight, I will gather some of my men and send them out to search outside Andrustown. I’ll do everything I can to help you, Merrick. I promise.” Merrick looked deep into the dark eyes, saw only confidence and determination that warmed his heart. He smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Andrus gently. “Thank you, Andrus, that means a lot to me.” Andrus grinned, stood and pulled him to his feet. “Let us go to dinner. Races are close.” He urged 186

Dana Erikson

Merrick to walk. Merrick glanced at him, eager to turn the conversation to something less weighty. “Will your man be competing tonight?” Andrus chuckled. “Pony, Merrick. And, no, he will not.” Merrick winced. “Why do you only call them pony? They are men, Andrus.” Andrus shrugged. “They prefer it that way. It’s a sign of status. Not everyone can be a pony, Merrick. It takes strength, speed and stamina. They earn their right to be called pony. I don’t dispute that right.” Merrick felt chastised, and for a moment he was quiet. “When might I see the ponies, Andrus?” “After the races, Merrick, not before. No one but the handlers are allowed.” “But surely, I am trusted.” “Of course you are, but there are rules.” “Rules can be broken.” Andrus stopped and turned to face him. “Why is this so important to you? Do you think I am hiding something?” Merrick drew back, surprised at the anger in the man’s voice. “N...no,” he stammered. “I...I just...well, I— “ “You’ve been asking all over town about slavery,” Andrus interrupted. “Why? You asked me straight out. I told you straight out. Do you think I lied to you?” Merrick sighed, looking away. “No, of course not.” 187

Tears of Gold

“Then why all of the questions, Merrick? Explain that to me.” Merrick drew a deep breath, and looked Andrus in the eye. “I was told that there was a possibility that the men who attacked Ambrose were gathering slaves to sell, that Ambrose might have met that fate.” “And do you see those men here, at my compound? Have you seen them anywhere in Andrustown?” “No,” Merrick mumbled. “Maybe you think I have your friend Ambrose hidden away someplace, then,” Andrus snapped. Merrick winced, averting his gaze. “I’m sorry, Andrus. I didn’t mean to suggest such a thing at all. I guess...” he sighed. “I guess that it’s like you have a secret and I’m not allowed to share in it. It makes me more curious than I should rightly be. I’m sorry.” “Don’t accuse me, Merrick, or make me feel as if I have done the unthinkable. I have just as much at stake here as Ambrose if those men are looking for same sex lovers. Do you really think I’d want them within a hundred leagues of me?” He paused a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then reached out and placed one hand on Merrick’s shoulder. “If I knew anything about these men or slaves, I would tell you. If I knew where Ambrose was, I would tell you, even if that meant he might steal you from me. I love you, Merrick, and I want only to see you happy. If Ambrose makes you happy, then so be it. I will accept it.” 188

Dana Erikson

Merrick sighed, then abruptly gathered Andrus to him in a tight embrace. He buried his face in the soft, dark hair, closing his eyes. He wished he could proclaim his love for Andrus as well, but he knew he could not. Not until Ambrose was purged from his system.

189

Tears of Gold

Chapter Sixteen

M

errick came fully awake with a yelp of surprise. He tried to move, and when he found he could not, he twisted in a panic. Andrus placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Good morning, Merrick,” he said softly. “I’ve brought you your juice.” “Andrus!” Merrick cried, struggling against his bonds. “What the hell is this?” “Merrick,” Andrus retorted, hurt coating the word. “You told me to do this last night. Don’t you remember?” For a moment, Merrick went still, his head twisted to one side, his gaze on Andrus. “I did?” Andrus sagged, his lower lip slightly protruding. “Yes. You practically begged me to. After what you did to me last night, after our words, you wanted to wake up with me in control. You said so.” Merrick felt the color flood his cheeks. “Did I? I don’t remember.” He swallowed hard, trying to recall the details of the previous night. He remembered the races, remembered how Lord Drondo had taunted Andrus on yet another loss, a loss created by the absence of the golden pony. And he remembered supping with Andrus at an eatery in the city, a place where he tried to cheer the man up, not only for the 190

Dana Erikson

loss of the race, but for his earlier accusations. Wine had flowed freely, but not so freely that Merrick hadn’t been able to walk home on his own power. He and Andrus had retired to the bedroom suite, a few rounds of exquisite brandy, and bed. With a soft moan, he abruptly remembered that he’d been overcome by a sexual frenzy, that he had taken Andrus almost by force, had continued to take him even when Andrus had begged him to stop. Andrus pulled back, turning aside as if he’d been thoroughly crushed by Merrick’s response. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you go. It’s just that you...” he drew a deep shuddering breath, “...you told me last night to tie you up, that this morning I could be in control. I’m sorry. I thought you meant it.” He reached out to untie one of the wrist bonds. “Wait,” Merrick said softly. “I...um...I don’t know what happened last night, why I acted the way I did. But, I guess...I guess it’s only fair that I taste a little of my own medicine.” A lascivious grin crossed Andrus’ face, and he brought his lips against Merrick’s in a hard, bruising kiss. “Then should I get on with your punishment?” he whispered. The words sent a strange, titillating thrill through Merrick, and he nodded, not trusting his voice. Why did the thought of punishment at Andrus’ hands sound so inviting? He licked his lips, his gaze on the juice. “Can I at least have something to drink first?” “Certainly,” Andrus said. “You’ll need your 191

Tears of Gold

strength.” He held the glass close and helped Merrick down the sweet contents, then set the empty glass aside. “Now, then, back to business. And, of course, pleasure.” Merrick sighed, his stomach tumbling. He wondered just what his ‘punishment’ would be. Anticipation created even more excitement. His heart was hammering in his chest, his body near to trembling. Andrus disappeared from his view, and he wriggled, trying to get comfortable. It was impossible the way he was bound. Andrus had strapped his knees to his wrists and his wrists to opposing bedposts. Cold air touched at his bare back and buttocks, sending a shiver through him. He wondered where Andrus was, what he had planned. He was about to call for the man, when he felt Andrus climb back onto the bed. He craned his neck so he could see the man’s face. Andrus smiled at him and pressed something hard and cold to Merrick’s anus. For a moment, he was still, then he pressed harder and Merrick grunted. Whatever it was, it hurt. “What the hell is that, Andrus?” he asked. “It’s a penile shield,” Andrus answered pushing forward again. Merrick’s breath hissed out in pain. “A what?” “A penile shield. Some of the male brothels use them.” He pushed again. “Well, it hurts,” Merrick grumbled. “No pain, no pleasure,” Andrus replied, and 192

Dana Erikson

pushed again. Merrick clenched his fists, and closed his eyes as Andrus continued to push inside him. Each small thrust sent tremors of pain rushing through him, and he began to worry about the length and size of Andrus’ penis. This could take some time. He wasn’t sure if he could stand the pain that long. Andrus varied his timing, sometimes giving two small thrusts quickly, then waiting for a long moment before thrusting again. The randomness of it was enough to set Merrick’s teeth on edge. It was terrifying and yet exhilarating to not know when the attack would come, and not be able to stop it when it did. Still, when Andrus was finally fully embedded inside him, he couldn’t stop his sigh of relief. Then he felt Andrus lay across his back, his mouth near Merrick’s ear. “Think what it will do coming out,” he whispered. Merrick didn’t want to. He could only imagine. And even then, his imagination wasn’t even close to the real thing. It felt as though his entire insides were being scraped clean with a dull knife. Still, when Andrus plunged in yet again, pain suddenly twisted into pleasure and Merrick shuddered as his own penis began to swell against the rumpled bedclothes. Each searing pull and thrust took his arousal higher, even as Andrus’ ragged breathing showed his increasing desire. Merrick strained against the restraints, unable to stop groans of agony and ecstasy. He had never had something hurt so wonderfully. And then, Andrus abruptly stopped, his penis 193

Tears of Gold

buried deep within Merrick. Merrick squirmed. “Don’t stop, Andrus,” he managed. “No pain, no pleasure,” Andrus whispered, pressing his chest against Merrick’s back. He nipped lightly at Merrick’s earlobe. Merrick groaned in agony, writhing against the bed, pulling against his restraints, wishing to be free and able to partake, to take control. “Andrus, please,” he begged, slightly embarrassed by the plaintive tone in his voice. Andrus chuckled softly. “Now who is begging whom, Merrick?” he taunted, then moved to nuzzle Merrick’s neck. He wrapped his arms beneath Merrick and rolled his nipples firmly. Merrick heard a low growl escape his own throat. He would be satisfied if he had to do it himself. He began to move, jerking the whole bed back and forth in an attempt to satisfy his raging sexual hunger. Andrus reached down and grasped his wet shaft in one hand, letting each violent rocking motion Merrick made move his hand up and down, effectively letting Merrick control the rhythm. But Merrick wanted more. He wanted to feel Andrus moving inside him, wanted to feel the man plunging in and out, wanted to feel their testicles grinding together. And, yes, he wanted to feel the pain of the shield. Another growl escaped him and he slammed the bed against the wall with stunning force. Each contact, each jolt, threw Andrus back, then forth, the movement driving Merrick to a frenzy. He 194

Dana Erikson

wanted more! And he wanted it now! Then suddenly, Andrus latched his mouth onto Merrick’s neck, and began to suck furiously. A second later, he shuddered, drew almost completely out, then slammed forward again, and pumped his sperm deep into Merrick. Merrick’s anal muscles clamped down on Andrus, his mind registering that he bled, that he was in pain, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He gasped, threw back his head and roared as his seed shot onto the sheets. For long moments, the two men lay gasping, silent, Andrus draped over Merrick’s back. Then Merrick drew a deep breath, barely able to speak. “Untie me, Andrus,” he murmured. “My legs are going numb.” His face only inches from Merrick’s, he gave a sultry smile. “I don’t know, Merrick. I sort of like you this way—submissive, under my control.” “Andrus,” Merrick warned. “Untie me.” For a moment, fear ran through Merrick. What if Andrus refused to unfetter him, left him like this? He was completely vulnerable, unable to move. He didn’t like it, and felt his fear begin to edge toward panic. Fortunately, Andrus seemed to realize that, and he gave a theatrical sigh. “Fine. I knew it was too good to last. Oh, I have to warn you, Merrick, this will hurt.” “I figured as much,” Merrick grumbled, then bellowed in pain as Andrus withdrew. “Dammit, Andrus! What is that thing made of? Blades?” Andrus chuckled, and released Merrick’s tethers. 195

Tears of Gold

“No, not blades. Actually blunt edges. They’re just bent at a small angle. Easy going in, difficult coming out.” He rose and headed toward the bathroom. Merrick groaned, stretching out his stiff limbs. He rolled to his side, then gasped when he tried to sit up, and shot to his feet. “Damn you, Andrus!” he muttered, glancing at the bed. The bedclothes were stained with his blood, blood he could feel oozing from his backside. It would take some time to recover from this assault. He staggered toward the bathroom, each step agony, and arrived at the doorway, gasping and bathed in a cold sweat. Andrus looked up at him from where he sat in a large tub of steaming water. “Join me?” “I should cuff you,” Merrick retorted, but shuffled across the room. He eased himself carefully into the sunken tub, taking the steps slowly. A hiss escaped him as the hot water met his backside, and he sent a scathing look at Andrus. Andrus grinned. “I’m sorry, Merrick. It’s been a long time since I had one of those used on me. I guess I’d forgotten how it felt afterwards. It does heal quickly, though, if that’s any consolation.” Merrick grunted, in too much pain to do much else. “Am I forgiven?” Andrus asked. Merrick looked over at him, at the remorseful face, the pleading eyes. He sighed. “Yes, you’re forgiven. I can’t say that it was all pain anyway.” Andrus smiled at him, scooted closer and gave him a lingering kiss. 196

Dana Erikson

Merrick shook his head in resignation, and draped one arm across Andrus’ shoulders. “Just promise me one thing, Andrus.” “And that is?” “No more restraints.” Andrus pouted. “None? Ever?” “None. Ever,” Merrick repeated, his voice firm. “Unless you choose to wear them, that is.” Andrus brightened. “That is a good possibility, Merrick. I have no problem with that at all.” That caught Merrick off-guard. “Well, good. And I suppose I can also use your penile torture wrap then?” Andrus laughed out loud, and moved back to his own side of the tub. “I don’t think so. Once is enough, for any man.” Merrick lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, I see. Why do I feel that I have been initiated into a gentleman’s club of some sort?” “I guess you have then, Merrick. I guess you have.” Andrus laughed again, and climbed from the tub. He reached for a bottle of oil and poured some into the water. “You soak. That will help with the pain and the healing.” He picked up a towel and began drying. “And where are you off to?” Merrick asked. “The stables. Remember I told you that one of my ponies was ill? I want to check on him. Make sure he’s all right. I won’t be long.” “Take your time, Andrus,” Merrick mumbled. “I’ll not be up for any more play for a goodly while.” 197

Tears of Gold

Andrus laughed. “Oh, you will. Sooner than you might think. Oh, and Merrick, spread your legs. The medicines can’t help if they can’t reach.” He winked at Merrick and left the room. Merrick watched him go, then grimaced and did as he was told, another moan escaping him. At the least, things seemed to have mended between them. Andrus was back to his usual happy self. Perhaps then the pain of the shield had been worth it. Merrick hoped so. ****** Andrus strode into the stables with purpose, Merrick’s words still fresh in his mind. Gold! Real gold. And all he had to do was make Ambrose sob. That shouldn’t be too difficult. He had many methods that had reduced men of far stronger stuff than Ambrose to blubbering idiots. Gold! The thought made him giddy. He took a deep breath and entered Ambrose’s stall. He had ordered the man tethered upright and nude the previous night and saw now that he slept fitfully, head lolled to one side. Each time he began to collapse, the wrist shackles would rouse him. As they had done now. He started, jerking his head up, and met Andrus’ gaze. “Good morning, Ambrose,” Andrus said, moving toward the water trough. “How did you sleep?” Ambrose said nothing, but his anger was clearly 198

Dana Erikson

evident. Andrus scooped up a pail of water and flung it at the young man, dousing him. Ambrose gasped, his whole body stiffening from the icy water. “You know, Ambrose,” Andrus said when he was sure he had the man’s attention. “You never did thank me for pulling you from the races. That was inconsiderate considering that I lost a good amount of money because of you. I don’t like those who are inconsiderate. They lack breeding. Either that, or they’re just plain rude. Which are you, Ambrose? Lacking in breeding, or just plain rude?” Again, Ambrose remained silent, and Andrus clenched his jaw in anger. “Fine,” he snarled. “You don’t wish to talk? Perhaps I can convince you otherwise.” He pulled the wrapped penile shield from an inside pocket of his robe. Now, he unbound it, studying the blood that had dried on it. He held it up so Ambrose could see it. “Do you know what this is, Ambrose?” “No, Master,” Ambrose said quietly, although his gaze held alarm. “Oh, I think you do,” Andrus said, turning the shield so that the torchlight caught the metal, the ribbed edges, the blood. “Do you know why it’s bloody, Ambrose?” “No, Master,” Ambrose said again, his voice barely audible. “I’ll tell you then. This blood belongs to your dear friend Merrick.” He laughed at the look of disbelief and anger that swept over the young man’s face. “Oh, 199

Tears of Gold

no, you misunderstand, Ambrose. I didn’t torture him with it at all. In fact, he enjoyed it. Would you enjoy it, Ambrose?” “I...I don’t think so, Master,” he mumbled. “No, I didn’t think you would.” Andrus tossed the shield on a bale of hay and approached Ambrose slowly. “You know, Merrick and I are spending a lot of time together. He actually told me about you, Ambrose. He told me of your special gift.” “Gift?” Ambrose’s brow wrinkled in obvious confusion. Andrus reached up and traced a finger from the corner of Ambrose’s eye to his chin. “Your tears, Ambrose. Your tears of gold.” He was rewarded by a look of pure shock, and chuckled. “You didn’t think he would tell me? Why shouldn’t he? We’re quite close, Ambrose. Quite close.” He paused to let that information sink in, then continued. “Now, then, Ambrose, what can you tell me about these golden tears?” “I...I can’t do that,” Ambrose managed. “Really? Maybe I should just see for myself,” Andrus said. With a smile, he turned and opened a crate he kept on the floor. He pulled out a long, slender dagger and straightened, then turned to face Ambrose. He saw true terror flit over the young man’s face as he approached, twisting the dagger before him. “Can you conjure up a few tears for me, Ambrose?” He gently ran the tip of the blade across Ambrose’s chest, from one nipple shield to the other. 200

Dana Erikson

“Please, Master,” Ambrose whispered. “I’m telling you the truth. I can’t cry gold anymore. It was just when I was a child.” Andrus paused, remembering Merrick’s words. He had said that he had seen it only three times, but he hadn’t said how old Ambrose had been. If it were true, and he no longer cried the gold, Andrus would still need him to run. Any torture he could devise to reduce the young man to a sobbing heap could not harm him enough to keep him from running. That significantly reduced his choices. Still, the next race was days away. Quite long enough to recover from an assault such as the one he’d only just inflicted on Merrick. He reached up and released the wrist restraints. Ambrose collapsed, nearly impaling himself on the dagger. Andrus motioned with it toward the bench. “Over there. You know the position.” Ambrose sagged in resignation and shuffled toward the bench. For just a moment, he hesitated, and Andrus quickly pressed the blade to the back of his neck. With only a sigh, Ambrose bent over the bench. Andrus quickly tied him, then set the blade aside. He picked up the penis shield and took it to the basin, where he scrubbed it clean, then swished it in disinfectant. It wouldn’t do to give Ambrose a raging infection. Satisfied the object was clean, he hunkered down and held it before Ambrose’s face. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked, twisting it so the torchlight gleamed off of it. “Merrick enjoyed it a 201

Tears of Gold

great deal. He said he felt as if he’d been welcomed to some sort of gentleman’s club. I think it’s time you joined that club, too, Ambrose.” “Master, no, please,” Ambrose begged. “I’ve not yet fully healed from...the other times.” Andrus paused, eyeing him closely. “Why, is that a tear I see, Ambrose? Just there, in the corner of your eye?” He reached out and touched at it, then studied his finger. “This looks like a plain tear to me, Ambrose. Let’s see if we can find the gold, shall we?” He smiled again, straightened and snapped the shield onto his fully erect penis. The metal was cold and he shuddered, pleasure coursing through him. He positioned himself behind Ambrose, gripped him by the hips and, without any further lubrication, thrust into the young man’s anus. Ambrose’s scream was intense, but not near so intense as the one that left his lips when Andrus pulled back. “Are you crying yet, Ambrose?” Andrus asked, and thrust again. He pulled back, his entire body shivering at the screams that echoed around him. “Cry for me, Ambrose. Cry for me!” He thrust again, as hard as he could, his own excitement barely controlled. “By the gods!” Ambrose shrieked, writhing. “Please, stop! Please!” “Not until you cry for me,” Andrus snapped, although he could hear Ambrose’s sobs already. He thrust again, shuddering. And pulled back, gasping. 202

Dana Erikson

He had his own needs to satisfy now, and they had nothing to do with what was coming from Ambrose’s eyes. Still, by the time he shot his seed, his whole body convulsing violently, Ambrose was unconscious, hanging limply over the bench. Andrus pulled out one last time, his genitals covered in blood, and collapsed on the hay bale. For a long moment he stared at the damage he’d done, then hunkered down to look at the young man’s face. It was streaked with tears and sweat, but nowhere did Andrus see gold. Not a trace of it. He ground his teeth together in anger, scooped up a bucketful of water and drenched Ambrose’s backside with it, washing away the blood and stool. A healing salve came next, then he untied Ambrose, dragged him to his pallet, and refastened him. He stood over the unconscious man for a moment, then snagged a blanket and draped it over the still form. No gold. Merrick had lied. The thought infuriated him, and he spun, storming from the stall.

203

Tears of Gold

Chapter Seventeen

M

errick shuffled across the room, grimacing with each step. Gods! He should never have let Andrus keep him tied up. He shook his head, then caught sight of himself in the large mirror embedded in the wall. He studied himself, feeling shame and guilt, and walked closer, until he was almost nose-tonose with his reflection. “You’re a disgrace, Merrick Underson,” he mumbled. “What have you let yourself become?” He leaned his forehead on the cool glass, momentarily closing his eyes. He had always prided himself on his sexuality, on being able to choose his partners wisely. Not since he was a child had he had taken part in the deviant play that Andrus had introduced him to. Sex had been private, playful, but loving and gentle. Now? He sighed, opening his eyes, staring at himself. And...he frowned, squinting, then cupped his hands about his eyes in disbelief. There was another room on the other side of the mirror! He could see it. It was small, housing a table, a bed and a chair. He drew back, stunned, then brought his gaze up to the reflection of the bed behind him. By the gods! This mirror was a viewing window directly to the bed and whatever happened there! He felt the color rush to his cheeks, and he 204

Dana Erikson

stumbled backward. Had he been watched? Had someone been there, on the other side of this glass, while he and Andrus had been together? Had they witnessed everything? All the private moments? The acts of depravity? The thought made him feel queasy, and he found a chair to collapse into, nearly yelping at the fiery pain in his backside. He stood again, this time anger driving him. Clenching his jaw, he opened the bedroom door and glanced up and down the hallway. He knew Andrus had gone to the stables, could hear some sort of shouting and such coming from that direction. There were no servants in sight, and Merrick carefully counted off the paces to the spot where the door should have been to the secret room. There was only wall paneling, no handle, no hinges. Puzzled, he studied the wall, then began to push gently. Nothing happened. With a frustrated oath, he returned to the bedroom and the mirror. Once again, he pressed his face against, it, squinting as if that could help him see into the room beyond. So intent was he on studying the room that Andrus’ arrival surprised him. He whirled from the mirror as the bedroom door opened. Andrus seemed equally surprised to see him. Merrick frowned. Andrus looked rumpled and angry. The bottom hem of his robes were wet...and bloody! Merrick brought his gaze up to the man in alarm. “What happened to you?” he cried. Andrus sighed and shook his head, turning toward 205

Tears of Gold

the bathroom. “There was an accident in the stables.” “I heard screaming earlier,” Merrick said, following him. “Did you? I’m not surprised.” Andrus reached for a cloth, wet it and wiped at his face. “One of the stable boys fell, and near impaled himself on a pitchfork. A pitchfork he had left lying there, by the way.” He wet the cloth and scrubbed at his neck. “Is he all right?” “I don’t know. I did what I could to stop the bleeding, but it’s up to the healer now.” He leaned forward, bracing himself on the washtable. “Gods, Merrick, it was awful. You could almost see his insides. And the screaming...” He shook his head, then ran one hand through his hair. He looked at Merrick. “Would you do me a favor, Merrick? I’m feeling a little shaky. I’m going to bathe again, try to relax. But I would love a glass of juice. Do you think you could call a servant and have them bring me something?” “Certainly. I’ll be right back.” Andrus offered up a small smile, and Merrick returned to the bedroom. He pulled the cord to summon the servant, waited for the man to arrive, gave the order, then glanced into the bathroom. Andrus had peeled off his soiled clothing, tossed it into the chute that led to the laundry, and was now immersed in the steaming water. Merrick hesitated, wondering how to bring up the discovery of the hidden room. Maybe with Andrus ensconced in a hot 206

Dana Erikson

bath, there would be time to take a search of the bedroom. There had to be a door to that room somewhere. A tap on the bedroom door told him that the servant had arrived with the juice. He quickly retrieved it, noticing there were two glasses instead of one. He looked at the servant in question. “In case you had wanted a drink as well, M’Lord,” the man said, with a small smile. Merrick smiled back, tipped his head and closed the door, then went in to the bathroom. Andrus looked over at him, then scrubbed at his face. Merrick sat the tray down, took one of the glasses and handed it to Andrus. Andrus took it in a trembling hand and took a long drink. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Merrick decided to share what he knew. “That room behind the mirror,” he started, taking a sip from the other glass. “You found it?” Andrus interrupted, his cheeks reddening. “I did. What is it?” “It’s a guard’s room,” Andrus said, taking another sip on his drink. He sighed, leaning back in the water. “It’s for protection, Merrick. I can’t always be entirely confident of my partners.” Merrick felt a strange stab of anger and jealousy course through him. He had known that Andrus had other partners, but had not really dwelled on it before now. He took another sip, trying to keep his voice calm. “You mean, a guard stands watch. Literally?” Andrus chuckled. “Yes.” He suddenly turned to 207

Tears of Gold

Merrick. “But not with you, Merrick. Don’t worry. Never with you.” Merrick studied him for sincerity. “Then we’ve had no witnesses to our passion?” “None but the gods themselves, Merrick. Here, give me a robe. I’ll show you the room. It’s quite creepy, actually. I don’t like going in there.” Merrick reached for the towel, then stopped. “No, Andrus, that’s all right. I was just a little...surprised to see it there, that’s all. I...I don’t need to see it.” He straightened with a moan. “What I do need to see is the bed. Alone.” He emphasized the word, tossing Andrus a smile. “You know,” Andrus said, “you’re heaping on the guilt. I feel bad enough already about using the penile shield on you. You don’t have to keep rubbing it in. In fact, I felt so bad, I got rid of it.” “You what?” “I got rid of it. I tossed it into the river. I feel horrible about it. I can’t stand to see you suffer like this. I am so sorry, Merrick. So very sorry.” Merrick again studied the man. He saw tears gather in the dark eyes, and sighed. “Andrus, please. I’ll be fine. A little bit of rest, maybe some salve. I’ll be fine.” He would have bent to kiss the man, but knew that would be pushing the limit on his pain. Instead, he blew Andrus a kiss, then shuffled back to the bed, where he collapsed facedown with a moan. He wondered when he would feel whole again. He cast another glance at the mirror, then closed his eyes, 208

Dana Erikson

willing sleep to heal his pain. ****** Two days of hot soaks, rest and pain medication did much to restore Merrick. He could walk without shuffling, and sit without breaking into a cold sweat. Andrus had become his personal servant, hovering over him, fetching him whatever he asked for, offering massages. He had even refused to do more than share the same bed, telling Merrick that he was punishing himself by forced abstinence. The remorseful look in his eyes was almost unbearable to Merrick, but also worth the pain he’d endured. Merrick checked the mirror often, sometimes wondering what he would do if there was someone staring back at him. So far that hadn’t happened. The Guard’s Room remained empty and dark. Merrick had not questioned Andrus on it further, guessing that if the man was willing to show it to him, he was hiding nothing. Although, why Merrick suspected him of hiding anything, he didn’t know. Andrus had been forthcoming with everything. There were no secrets. So, why then, did Merrick feel that something was not quite right? He had no good reason to feel anything was amiss at all. Still, something picked at him, kept him from fully relaxing. He hadn’t thought more about leaving to search for Ambrose, knew he couldn’t until he was fully healed and able to take 209

Tears of Gold

days in the saddle. But that didn’t stop him from yearning to go to town and at least ask a few more questions. He told himself time and again that there was no good reason to suspect that Ambrose was even around this area, but that same nagging feeling kept trying to convince him that there was. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part. It would make things so easy to find Ambrose right here in Andrustown. The search would be over. And then what? He frowned, sipping at his morning tea and staring out over the gardens of the compound. Then what? Then he would take Ambrose back home? He wondered if Tarad had learned anything, if he had found the men responsible. Tarad had given him three weeks, three weeks before he’d come and find Merrick. How long had he been here? At least two weeks, maybe more. With nothing to show for it. He should at least ride to the hills and let Tarad know he was all right. No sense in having a dozen men hunkered down in the inclement weather of the hills for nothing. His gaze swung east, narrowing in thought. He had made it from the hills to Andrustown in four days. But that was riding at a fast clip, with infrequent rests. He didn’t think he would be up for that for at least another week. Damn! He felt the familiar surge of shame rush through him. How could he let Andrus do that to him? What had he been thinking? And then to even derive pleasure from it? 210

Dana Erikson

He shook his head, thoroughly disgusted with himself, and lifted the tea mug for another swallow to wash away his humiliation. For a moment, his gaze lingered on the pale brew, his thoughts returning to that first night at the compound. Andrus had drugged him, slipped him a sexual stimulant. And had admitted it next morning. Merrick shook his head, downed the last bit of tea and rose. He couldn’t blame Andrus for everything. The man had apologized, and Merrick had no reason to believe that he had been fed anything else in the time he’d been here. He returned to the bedroom, took another peek into the mirror, found the hidden room again empty, and sighed. He felt restless and decided that now was a good day to see just how healed he really was. He opened the wardrobe, picked out a light yellow robe and slipped into it. He didn’t even know where his own clothes had gone off to. It was too hot to wear them anyway. He picked up his dagger, hefting it thoughtfully. He didn’t have a belt—that had disappeared with his clothing—but he supposed he could fashion some sort of belt out of fabric if he could find some. He still felt naked without his dagger within reach. He turned back to the wardrobe, pulling out each of the small drawers in turn, searching for anything that he could use. Andrus’ voice startled him. “Looking for something?” He spun, feeling color rush to his cheeks. “Just a belt,” he muttered, closing the drawer he’d been 211

Tears of Gold

rummaging in. “What for?” Andrus asked, then his gaze went to the dagger. He chuckled. “I told you, you don’t have to carry that around.” “I know, but you also told me that you’re a wealthy man. What if someone decided that I would make a good hostage?” Andrus drew back, as if stunned by the question. “I never thought of that. I’ve never really had anyone close to me that I cared enough about to worry over. I mean, besides the ponies. And they’re well guarded. I guess I should at least extend that courtesy and protection to you. Consider it done, Merrick. You’ll have a bodyguard assigned.” Merrick bristled. “I don’t need a bodyguard, Andrus. I just need a belt. I’m quite capable of protecting myself.” Andrus smiled and crossed the room to stand in front of him. “I know that. But it would make me feel better. And if it would make you feel better to carry your dagger, I’ll get you a belt. All right?” Merrick studied him a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” “Excellent.” Andrus gave him a light kiss, then stepped back. “So, why were you looking to carry your dagger? Were you thinking of going out?” “I thought to do so, yes. Is that a problem?” Andrus gave him a hurt look and stepped further away. “Of course it’s not a problem. You’re not a prisoner here. You can come and go as you like. The 212

Dana Erikson

next race is two days away, so there are no restrictions on the compound at all. Do as you wish.” He turned away. Merrick stopped him with a gentle touch. “I’m sorry, Andrus. I didn’t mean to imply that I felt captive. I just...” He sighed, releasing Andrus and shaking his head. “I just feel restless. I just want to get on with things.” “By that, you mean...” “Ambrose. I need to find him, Andrus.” Andrus gave a knowing nod, but Merrick saw something else in the dark eyes as well. “That bothers you?” he asked. Andrus sighed, and moved away. “Of course it does. I guess I just keep thinking that as soon as you find him, you’ll leave. I guess...I guess I’m jealous of him.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Jealous of a child. A child whom I have never even seen. Pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” Merrick winced at the pain in the words, and crossed the room to take the man in his arms. “No, it’s not pathetic, Andrus. And I told you, there was nothing between me and Ambrose. He’s a friend, that’s all. I made a promise to his mother, and I feel that I need to keep it.” He placed one finger beneath Andrus’ chin, lifted his head and kissed him gently. Andrus smiled, but it was uncertain, and he pushed away. “My men have found nothing, Merrick. I’ve been getting reports back on an almost daily basis. They’ve almost reached the foothills, and 213

Tears of Gold

they’ve found nothing. Surely, in this time, word would have come of a boy who cried gold. I can’t imagine that he has not suffered pain of some kind along the way.” “It doesn’t work like that, Andrus,” Merrick said, sinking down on the edge of the bed. “That’s what frightens me so much. Tears of anger, pain, frustration—they are as any man’s. It’s only the tears of true despair, the tears from the soul, that create the gold.” “From the soul?” Andrus asked, sitting beside him. “I don’t understand.” “Remember I told you that I had seen him cry three times? Once was at the loss of a beloved pet. He was heartbroken. He cried again after his mother’s death. I found evidence of such in the grass near the stream.” “And the third time?” Merrick hesitated, not sure if he should speak it. It would only add to Andrus’ insecurity. Still, the man seemed to figure it out. “It was when you left Orma, wasn’t it? Left Orma and him.” Merrick nodded, his own heart twisting at the memory. Anona had needed to restrain Ambrose, holding to him tightly as Merrick rode away. Merrick had tried to reason with the boy, but seven years had seemed an eternity to him. He had begged and pleaded, crying so hard he could scarcely talk, his whole body heaving with his pain. And when Merrick had turned in the saddle for one last look, the 214

Dana Erikson

sun had turned Ambrose’s cheeks into gold. Even now, the memory brought a lump to Merrick’s throat and tears to his eyes. Andrus was quiet for a long moment, then he rose. “It would seem that I lost you before I found you, Merrick.” Merrick looked up at him, then swiftly got to his feet. He took Andrus by the arm. “Andrus, you’ve lost nothing. You’ve rekindled something in me I thought I’d forgotten.” Andrus looked into his eyes. “Love?” “Perhaps so,” Merrick said quietly. “All I know is that your touch sends fire through me. I want to be here with you, Andrus. Don’t doubt that. Please.” He lifted Andrus’ hand and kissed the palm of it. “But when you find Ambrose? What then? Will you ride away and leave me sobbing on the doorstep?” Merrick had no ready answer for that. He didn’t know. But he couldn’t stand to see the hurt in Andrus’ eyes any longer. “No, I won’t leave you, Andrus. I told you already, Ambrose is a child. I only want to see him safe.” He pulled Andrus to him and kissed him deeply, hoping that would ease the man’s pain. He halfway expected to become aroused, as so often happened when he touched Andrus, and was surprised when he did not. And a little relieved. Perhaps he was not the sexual deviant he had made himself out to be earlier. “Well,” Andrus said when they had parted. “I 215

Tears of Gold

guess that kiss should be convincing enough.” He smiled. “If you were feeling better, I’d convince you of my feelings.” He rubbed suggestively against Merrick, then chuckled. “But I can see that’s out for a while yet. I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go for that stroll in town? I have some things here I really should attend to. I’m afraid that I’ve been neglecting my business for pleasure lately. Things are getting behind. We can meet for dinner. How does that sound?” “That sounds wonderful,” Merrick replied. “And I think a walk in the fresh air will do much to speed my healing along.” “I hope so,” Andrus said. “I’m beginning to feel like a monk here.” Merrick laughed out loud. “A monk? Hardly! It’s only been three days. I’ve gone ten times that without any relief.” “Then you’re a stronger man than I.” He gave Merrick a kiss, then headed toward the door. “I’ll see you later then. Have a good time. Oh, and if you really want your belt, look in the bureau over there. Bottom drawer, left side.” He blew a kiss, and left. Merrick grinned, and went to the bureau. There, right where Andrus had said it would be was Merrick’s belt, and the rest of his clothes as well. He was tempted to put them on, then remembered how hot and uncomfortable they’d been. He settled with strapping on his belt and dagger, and headed outside. He was granted leave from the compound without 216

Dana Erikson

question, and stepped outside the massive walls with a strange, almost overwhelming, sense of relief. He frowned, turning to look back, then shook his head and strode toward town. It wasn’t a long walk, as Andrus’ compound was the anchor for everything around it. Still, with his recent ‘injury’ he was fatigued by the time he’d reached the eatery. He thought about sitting and recovering with a cold drink, then remembered his last cold drink there. A grim smile touched at his lips and he turned instead towards the mercantile where he had seen the blue shirt. It was still hanging in the same spot, and for some reason that also brought a sense of profound relief to him. He hesitated only briefly, snatched up the shirt and went to the counter to pay for it. The proprietor gave him a quick smile and began to wrap the shirt, but when Merrick held out the coins to pay, he shook his head. “No, no, it’s been taken care of.” The words startled Merrick, and he whirled, fully expecting to see Andrus lounging in the doorway. But there was no one, and he turned back, puzzled. “Taken care of by whom?” He felt as if he was in some sort of magic haze, where things repeated themselves without warning. “Lord Andrus,” the man replied, his tone indicating that he thought Merrick daft for even asking. “But he’s not here. He didn’t know I was coming here.” 217

Tears of Gold

The man shrugged. “You are his...guest...and we’ve been instructed that he will pay for anything and everything you desire in Andrustown.” He held the wrapped shirt forward, a smile crossing his face. Merrick took the shirt, unexpected irritation nipping at him. “Thank you.” He spun and stomped from the shop. He was halfway down the dusty street before he realized he didn’t even know where he was going. He slowed his pace, keeping to the shade created by each storefront as he walked. On impulse, he stopped to buy a cold drink. His coin was refused. He bought a small meat pie. His coin was refused. Clenching his jaw, he stepped into a swordsmith’s and bought a jeweled dagger, the finest he could find. Again, his coin was refused. He left the shop, his new dagger strapped beside his older one. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that his own coin was useless here. It should have been a godsend. After all, no one got rich on a soldier’s pay. He looked down at the wrapped shirt, his shoulders sagging. He had wanted to buy the shirt himself. At least, that. If nothing else, at least that. Now, it seemed somehow tainted. He didn’t even know why he’d bought it. He certainly didn’t need a shirt the color of a summer sky. He stumbled to a stop, his heart aching. Yes, he did know why. He’d bought it for Ambrose. Not that he was likely to ever see it on the boy. He shook himself. No! Don’t think like that. He would see it on Ambrose. He had to. The thought 218

Dana Erikson

that he might never see the young man again did torturous things to his heart. He thought back to his words to Andrus earlier. Why had he come so close to proclaiming his love for the man? He cared for Andrus; yes, he enjoyed the sex, even if it got rough sometimes. But there was something missing, a spark, a giving of his soul. It was with a start that he finally realized why. He had given that soul to Ambrose. Tears swelled in his eyes, and the sudden knot in his throat threatened to choke him. He turned, stumbling blindly down an alleyway, caution lost to anguish. A foot in his path sent him sprawling. It took him only a second to react. He rolled first one way, then the next, hoping to confuse his attacker. A loud grunt from his left sent him shifting to his right yet again. Then the swish of a blade, the howl of a man being disemboweled, and a rough voice asking if he was all right. Merrick came to his feet, dagger drawn, then stared, stunned. A giant of a man, sword bloodied, stood before him, straddling the scrawny body of a young street urchin. Merrick stumbled back a step, his stomach doing an unexpected tumble. “Ambrose?” he whispered, his gaze fixed on the blond hair. “You know this street scum?” the giant asked, nudging the dead youth with a boot. The action sent the limp form rolling. One arm flopped over, and the head lolled to one side. A hiss of relief escaped Merrick. It was not Ambrose, but the 219

Tears of Gold

boy was about the same age. Merrick turned his gaze on the big man with the sword. “Why did you kill him? Who are you?” “I am Ingo. I am the guard assigned to protect you in the city.” The man snapped to attention, then gave a formal bow. “Assigned to—” Merrick broke off, straightening in annoyance. “I don’t need a bodyguard!” Ingo said nothing, but his gaze shifted to the dead boy, which only served to stir Merrick’s annoyance to anger. He shoved his dagger back into the sheath, snatched up the shirt bundle and stormed from the alleyway, Ingo trailing him. “Where are you going, M’Lord?” Ingo asked. “To report the death, of course!” Merrick snapped, pushing his way through the crowds. “You had no right to kill that child! He did nothing.” “He was attempting to rob you, M’Lord,” Ingo replied, his voice lifeless, as if he discussed an annoying gnat instead of a living being. “What would you have done had I not been there to assist?” “I would not have killed him,” Merrick retorted hotly, his gaze scanning the streets. “Where is the constable’s office?” “Right there.” Ingo pointed. Merrick followed his gaze, his heart sinking. The compound loomed before him. He hadn’t even noticed he’d been so close. “Andrus is the constable?” “Yes, M’Lord. What did you think? This is his town. He runs it his way.” 220

Dana Erikson

“Of course he does,” Merrick snarled. “Is there anything that Lord Andrus doesn’t control around here?” Ingo’s eyes narrowed. “Do you take exception with the way Lord Andrus runs things?” Merrick calmed himself, realizing how he must have sounded. He shook his head. “No, of course not. If I did, I wouldn’t be sharing his home with him, would I? It’s just that he didn’t tell me of this position he holds. It surprised me.” At that Ingo gave a small smile, although it lacked warmth. “Lord Andrus has many surprises, M’Lord. Excuse me, I need to take care of the body.” He again tipped his head, and walked away. Merrick drew a deep, calming breath and entered the compound. It was quiet save for the incessant splashing of the fountains and the chittering of some kind of bird that found respite from the heat in the lush gardens. Merrick stared up at the house, then, on impulse, slipped into the shadows and headed toward the stables. He knew he wasn’t allowed, knew he was breaching some pony rule, but at the moment, he didn’t care. However, the guards did. They stopped him at the gates. He glared at them, trying to control the anger in his voice. “Is Lord Andrus here?” “He is,” one of the guards answered. “I need to speak with him. It’s important.” The guard hesitated a moment, then motioned to a young guard standing near him, sending the man 221

Tears of Gold

scrambling away. Merrick watched, his annoyance increasing by the moment. He paced in front of the guard, one hand gripping the wrapped shirt, the other opening and closing on the hilt of the new dagger. It seemed an eternity before Andrus came hurrying towards him. “Merrick? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” “No...I...well, yes, it did.” Merrick huffed out a quick, angry breath. “Your man Ingo killed a boy, Andrus. A boy!” Andrus drew back, obviously stunned. “Why? What happened?” “Nothing, that’s the point! He tripped me. Ingo seemed to think he was going to rob me. He was just a street urchin! He was no threat. He didn’t have to die. And I don’t need a bodyguard following me about.” Andrus took hold of his arm, steering him away from the stables. “Calm down, Merrick. You said it yourself. What if someone realized how much you mean to me and decided to use that to their advantage? It made sense. I wanted you safe. I assigned a bodyguard.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. “I’m a king’s man, for gods’ sake! I can take care of myself.” Andrus cast him a sidelong glance. “And that’s why a street urchin tripped you?” He stopped, turning Merrick to face him. “You don’t know this town, Merrick. I do. My guards do. That street urchin, 222

Dana Erikson

no matter how childlike he might have seemed, was no doubt a well-trained thief, possibly even a murderer. My guards don’t kill for no reason, I can assure you.” “But he was a boy, Andrus,” Merrick murmured. “Just a boy.” “He was a threat. I’m sorry that you had to have that happen. I’m sorry that it ruined your day in town. And I’m sorry that you got upset.” Merrick studied him a long moment, wondering that he was sorry for everything save the boy’s death. Sadness claimed him, and he looked away. Andrus sighed, placed one arm about his shoulders and encouraged him to walk. “I see you’ve been shopping,” he said softly. Merrick looked down at the bundle. He’d forgotten he held it. He grimaced as the sun winked off the jeweled dagger. “I guess I owe you some money, Andrus. I was just annoyed that I could spend nothing of my own. The dagger was bought in a fit of curiosity. I suppose I just wanted to see how much was really too much, and the shopkeepers would put a stop to it. Only they didn’t. I’m sorry. This was quite expensive. I will repay you.” Andrus chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, Merrick. Come here, I want to show you something.” He led Merrick up a steep staircase leading to the roof of the main house. Once on top, the view stretched for miles. Merrick turned in a slow circle, awestruck at the lands stretching before him. Leagues 223

Tears of Gold

and leagues of arid openness, bordered on the northeast by the rocky foothills, but stretching forever on the other three sides. The Andrus River sprawled across the lands like a serpent sunning itself. It seemed as out of place in the dryness as the thin copses of trees that dotted the land. “See those mounds out there?” Andrus asked, pointing. Merrick squinted into the setting sun. “Yes. What are they?” “Those are the mines, Merrick. My mines. My opals. Those opals built all of this.” He turned Merrick around to face the city that bowed before them. Merrick had never realized how big Andrustown really was until now. It seemed to stretch with just as much flexing of muscles as the land itself. “And that’s mine, too,” Andrus said quietly. “Now, do you really think I cannot afford to keep you in complete comfort?” Merrick stiffened. Keep? The word rolled through his mind like a storm. Keep? He didn’t want to be kept! He wanted to be his own man, to provide for himself, to protect himself. Just as the independent thoughts coursed through his mind, he realized that he had been expecting no less of Ambrose. He, the great Merrick, would go away, learn how to fight, come back and hover over Ambrose like a nursemaid. He had never even thought that perhaps the man didn’t want, or need, a nursemaid. Dejection ran 224

Dana Erikson

through him, nearly bringing him to tears. He suddenly knew what he had to do. He had to find Ambrose, reassure himself that the boy was safe, then let him alone. Let him choose freely where he would go, what he would do, whom he would be with. The mere thought sent pain lancing his heart, and he involuntarily shuddered. “Are you all right?” Andrus asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. “I’m fine. I just...” He dropped his gaze, caught sight of the bundle and abruptly thrust it forward. “I bought this for you. Well, you bought it for you, I guess.” Andrus smiled and accepted the gift. He unwrapped it, then caught at his breath. “It’s beautiful!” “I know you don’t usually wear shirts, but I, well...” He shrugged the rest of the words away. He didn’t know how to tell Andrus that the shirt was intended for Ambrose. Andrus chuckled and gave him a fierce hug. “Are you saying you would like to see me in trousers? That can be arranged.” Merrick smiled, although his heart was heavy. “I haven’t seen you in trousers in ten years, Andrus. Maybe it’s about time.” “It’s a date. I’ll dress for dinner. Come. It’s too hot to be up here much longer.” “You go. I rather like the view. I’d like to savor it for a while yet.” 225

Tears of Gold

Andrus shrugged. “Not too long. I don’t want to have to be carrying you off here.” “I promise.” Andrus nodded, gave him a gentle kiss and descended the staircase. Merrick sighed, settled himself down on the rooftop and watched the setting sun.

226

Dana Erikson

Chapter Twenty jerked the restraint tighter, gratified to hear Andrus a muffled groan of pain from Ambrose. He

walked around to face the young man. “So, what do you think of this view, Ambrose?” he asked, gesturing at the large window. He watched Ambrose’s gaze flit around the contents on the other side of the mirror, and grinned. “Yes, it’s a bedroom. My bedroom. Where I entertain Merrick.” He traced one finger down Ambrose’s cheek, then stood back and held his arms wide. “Do you like my shirt? It’s new. Merrick bought it for me. He wanted to see me in trousers.” He turned his backside toward Ambrose. “I think he likes this.” He patted himself, laughing. “I know I like his. And tonight, Ambrose, you’ll see that. I thought you should. You need to get him out of your system. You need to see that he’s with me. He loves me, Ambrose. Did you know that? Tonight, he’ll show you how much. You won’t be able to hear a thing, but then, actions speak so much louder than words, don’t they?” He turned to the chest of drawers and opened the top one. It was full of various restraints, varying in thickness and strength. He picked up a gag and turned back to Ambrose. Even though Ambrose drew back, there was no place for him to go, and Andrus 227

Tears of Gold

had him gagged in seconds. He saw the look of panic enter the young man’s eyes yet again, and huffed out an annoyed breath. “Breathe through your nose, you imbecile,” he hissed, then turned back to his assortment. He chose a fine, horsehair whip. Delicate, yet stinging when applied just right. He planned to have that handy tonight. He had promised Merrick no more restraints, but he couldn’t help himself, and chose wrist and ankle restraints of soft leather. Another drawer held his herbs and drugs. He wasn’t worried about Merrick—that had already been taken care of—but he thought for a moment to slip something to Ambrose as well. He studied the young man for a moment, then decided against it. No, it would probably be best for his plan to succeed if Ambrose was very far from sexual arousal. Very far. Still, looking at him, bound and gagged, completely at his mercy, sent a flame through Andrus. He wanted nothing more at that moment then to satisfy his own cravings with the young man. It was only the late hour that prevented it. Dinner— and Merrick—waited. He smiled, then turned and left the hidden room, closing the door securely. Once outside, he leaned against the wall to calm himself. Tonight! It would be tonight. He was sure of it. Merrick had said the tears must come from the soul, from despair. Andrus couldn’t think of anything more despairing than watching someone you loved making passionate love to another person. And 228

Dana Erikson

Merrick would be passionate. Andrus had enough drugs to make sure of that. He had wasted precious time torturing and beating Ambrose, all to no avail. But now? Now he would see that gold running from the young man’s eyes, he was sure of it. He looked up as the guard arrived. “Ah, Thurcan, good. You know what you’re supposed to do?” “Yes, M’Lord,” the man returned. He held up two glass cups. “I will catch his tears.” “Perfect,” Andrus smiled, then sidled up to the man, reaching between his legs for a caress. “And if what I’m told is true, you’ll have your share of the profits. And of me.” He chuckled at the tremble of anticipation that ran through the man. “Catch every drop. Later, I’ll catch every drop of you.” He pulled the man to him by the testicles, gave him a hard bite on the neck, then smoothed his shirt and headed for the dining hall. Dinner was a happy affair. Andrus made sure of it. The food was laced with stimulants, the desserts with sexual enhancers. The wine was abundant and excellent. Andrus continually steered the conversation around to past episodes of lovemaking—not only his, but his peers as well. He made frequent comments on how the trousers seemed to be binding him, pressing on places usually left loose and free. And on how that binding was causing unexpected reactions to certain parts of his anatomy. By meal’s end, Merrick was noticeably aroused and quite eager to head upstairs to bed. Andrus 229

Tears of Gold

supported him as they stumbled along, laughing, taking swigs of wine from the glasses they carried. Andrus stopped him just outside the door, and pulled him into a passionate embrace, pressing his lips to Merrick’s. He was thrilled when he felt Merrick respond. And the idea of having an audience increased that thrill to almost intoxicating proportions. He only hoped he could hold off his orgasm until Ambrose got the full show. “Inside, Andrus,” Merrick whispered, pushing the door open. He near dragged Andrus into the room, all the while assaulting his lips. Andrus pulled back, breathless, then began to unbutton his shirt, letting his fingers stumble. “Dammit,” he slurred. “I can’t get these buttons undone.” “Let me help,” Merrick said, his voice throaty and filled with lust. Andrus surrendered himself to Merrick, then trembled as the shirt slid free. Merrick stood looking at him for a moment, then pulled him close in another punishing kiss. Andrus reached down and gripped Merrick’s buttocks, grinding his penis against Merrick’s. A second later, he accepted Merrick’s tongue, and sucked on it eagerly. Finally, with a gasp, Merrick pulled free. “Not fair,” Andrus rasped. “You’re still mostly dressed.” Merrick gave a lopsided grin and tore his shirt free. Without hesitation, he also stripped off his pants, 230

Dana Erikson

allowing his full erection to show. Andrus drew back, as if surprised. “Now that’s impressive,” he murmured. “No less impressive than yours,” Merrick said. “Which I am not seeing. Why is that, Andrus? Why can’t I see what you have tucked away so nicely in those trousers?” He made a move towards Andrus, smiling laciviciously. Andrus danced aside, teasing. “You’ll have to catch me first, Merrick.” Merrick grinned and began to stalk towards Andrus, who circled, keeping just out of arm’s reach. “And if I catch you,” Merrick said, “what do I get?” “Whatever you want.” Merrick laughed. “Perhaps it’s your turn for the restraints, Andrus.” He made a wild grab, then toppled sideways onto the bed, where he lay chuckling softly, his eyes glazed, his speech slurred. “Come on, Andrus. I’m too tired to chase you. Just come here and lay with me.” Andrus cursed himself mentally. Apparently, he’d overdone a bit on the wine. Well, he wasn’t about to let Merrick fall asleep now. Not with Ambrose watching. He crawled onto the bed, straddling Merrick, and slowly undid his trousers. Merrick stared up at him, blinking slowly, then grinned when Andrus stood on the bed and performed a slow striptease, finally stepping free of his trousers. Merrick ran one hand up Andrus’ leg, caressing gently, then tugged the man down. Andrus fell to his 231

Tears of Gold

knees, one on each side of Merrick’s hips, and leaned in for another long, lingering, passionate kiss. He felt Merrick’s hand slide down his shoulder, along his chest to his penis, which was hard and ready. He moaned into Merrick’s mouth, pressing against his hand. But Merrick’s responses were getting sluggish, and his eyes were half-lidded now. Andrus grimaced. He had to do something. And fast. He rolled away from Merrick and snatched up the almost empty wine bottle. He kept a very small stash of yohimbi in the stand near his bed, and he fetched it now, while Merrick drifted into a light sleep. He poured one glass of wine for himself, then another for Merrick and slipped the aphrodisiac into Merrick’s glass. “Merrick?” he called, nudging the man lightly. “Let’s not waste this. Let’s finish it off.” Merrick opened his eyes, then grinned and nodded, sitting up. Andrus toasted him. “To fun,” he said and downed his drink. “To fun,” Merrick repeated and made short work of his drink as well. Andrus grinned, put his and Merrick’s empty glasses on the nightstand, and leaned forward for another kiss. He knew exactly how long it would be before the drug took full effect and he planned to be ready. He had given Merrick a good dose of herbs at dinner. This last dose would be the catalyst for the evening. He pulled himself forward, until he was sitting on Merrick’s lap, legs wrapped about him. He continued to torture Merrick’s lips, using his tongue 232

Dana Erikson

almost as he would use his penis later—taunting, teasing, thrusting. He could almost pinpoint the exact moment the drug entered Merrick’s system. Merrick suddenly straightened, his hold on Andrus tightening. He deepened his kiss, his tongue reaching into Andrus’ mouth. Andrus felt a quiver run through Merrick’s body, then felt him pressing against his buttocks. He could have let Merrick enter at once, but he wanted to be sure that Ambrose saw Merrick in charge. He let himself fall towards the bed, pulling Merrick over with him. They now lay side by side. Merrick pushed against him, then began nipping and biting down his throat and chest. Andrus moaned softly as Merrick’s mouth closed over his erection. He wound his fingers in Merrick’s hair, moving with him, controlling the speed and rhythm. He wanted this to last. But Merrick was being very insistent, and Andrus found he was having a hard time controlling his own arousal. He pulled Merrick away, then slithered down for another kiss, which left his legs hanging over the side of the bed. Merrick gave a throaty growl, and flipped Andrus onto his belly. “Merrick!” Andrus gasped, struggling to turn back over. “Be still, Andrus!” Merrick warned, and clamped one hand on the back of Andrus’ neck, forcing him back to the bed. Andrus gasped as Merrick thrust inside him with a desperation Andrus hadn’t expected, and hadn’t 233

Tears of Gold

quite been ready for. Pain shot through him, and he squirmed trying to break free of Merrick’s hold. But Merrick was too drugged to allow that, and Andrus actually yelped when Merrick struck him on the backside in an obvious attempt to quiet him. This was not proceeding according to plan. Still, it might get the desired results from Ambrose, and Andrus decided to let it go its course. He grunted as Merrick began to ride him, each thrust deep and hard. Andrus hadn’t had a chance to position himself, and his own penis was caught up in the bedclothes in an uncomfortable way. He tried to move to free himself but could not with Merrick’s weight holding him down, so each thrust only sent pain, instead of pleasure, tearing through Andrus’ shaft. His thoughts were scattered by that, and he only wished Merrick would orgasm and move off of him. His wish came soon enough, with Merrick’s cry of release near deafening in the large room. Andrus sighed out his relief as Merrick pulled away. But Merrick had a strange, feral look in his eyes as he looked down at Andrus. “I’m not done, Andrus,” he murmured, and snatched up the two belts from their trousers. “Merrick?” Andrus questioned, his heart beginning to pound. Obviously, he had given Merrick far too much of the enhancers, and for the first time realized the danger he was in. This had happened to him once before, and he had actually killed the man in his 234

Dana Erikson

sexual frenzy. He had no doubt that Merrick could snuff the life out of him just as easily. His gaze flew to the mirror, but he had no time to do much else, before Merrick had him pinned down once again. This time the man grabbed for his arms, twisting them painfully behind his back. A few quick twists of the belt and Andrus found himself tightly bound. “Merrick,” he tried again. “No restraints, remember?” Merrick grinned at him, but there was little warmth in it. “For me. Not for you. Remember?” He tore the case from the pillow and ripped it into strips. “Remember how you had me tied, Andrus? It hurt. Fair is fair.” Andrus grimaced, at least thankful that his penile shield was no longer in the room. Still, in his current state, Merrick could find almost anything to use. Andrus couldn’t let that happen. He knew that at one signal from him, his guard would respond, enter the room and knock Merrick senseless. And what a show that would be for Ambrose then! Andrus doubted he would see much in the way of despairing tears in that scenario. In fact, the boy would probably be happy to see him bound and helpless. He had to turn this around somehow. But how? He rolled from the bed, working desperately at his ties. Merrick snarled at him, and made a grab for him, but Andrus leapt away, then realized that he was playing the very game he’d started. Only this time he didn’t want Merrick to catch him. He backed away, 235

Tears of Gold

Merrick matching him step for step. There was no place except the bathroom to run to, and Andrus knew that could be fatal. Merrick snapped out the end of the other belt, catching Andrus on the leg. Andrus yelped, leaping aside, then crashed against the bureau. His own anger leapt forward as pain tore through his hip. It was time to end this, no matter what Ambrose saw. His gaze shot to the mirror and he gave a fierce nod, just as Merrick’s hands closed about him. “Merrick,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Let’s play tomorrow. You’re a little wound up tonight.” “And whose fault is that?” Merrick slurred, rubbing against him. He lowered his mouth to Andrus’ nipple and bit—hard—just as Thurcan rushed into the room. Andrus yelped, then let out a breath of irritation as the guard pulled Merrick away. “Put him out!” he ordered. Thurcan obliged, giving Merrick one hard blow to the back of the neck, knocking him into blackness before Merrick could even focus on him. Andrus watched Merrick crumple, his irritation turning to anger. “Unbind me!” he snapped. The guard did as requested, although his gaze lingered for a moment on Andrus’ penis. Andrus was too angry to remember his earlier promise to Thurcan. He motioned at Merrick, even as he tossed his robe back on. “Get him up on the bed. Tie him down. I don’t 236

Dana Erikson

want him loose until I choose.” His gaze shifted to the mirror. Fury drove his tongue. “Why don’t you pleasure yourself with him? I’ve other plans for tonight.” Thurcan smiled at that, and gave a smart salute. Without returning it, Andrus stormed from the room. It was a short walk down the hallway to the staircase that first led to the first floor, then back up to the hidden room behind the mirror. Once inside, Andrus took several deep, calming breaths. It did little to soothe the anger in his gut, but he forced a placid look to his face and went to stand in front of Ambrose. The young man looked up at him, eyes dry. A smirk turned the corners of his mouth. Andrus studied him for a long moment, then his fury gave way. He snatched up a rod and delivered blow after blow against Ambrose’s body, not even caring where the rod left its mark.

237

Tears of Gold

Chapter Twenty-One

M

errick woke with a sour stomach and a roaring head. A loud groan escaped him as he rolled over onto his back to stare at the canopy overhead. He hurt. His entire body ached, but his anus was on fire. “Not again,” he mumbled, swinging his legs slowly over the side of the bed. For a moment, his head swirled, threatening to topple him to the floor. He sat still for a moment, then eased himself to his feet, turning toward the bathroom, and relief in the hot tub. He grimaced as his backside hit the hot water, and a soft epithet escaped him. A sting at his arms took his gaze there, and he watched as the skin turned red in wide bands just at his wrists. Restraints! Again? Anger whipped through. He had specifically forbid Andrus to use them, couldn’t imagine why the man had broken that trust. Hell, he couldn’t even remember when he’d been restrained. It was clearly evident that he had imbibed far too much wine the previous night, and he wished he could fully remember everything that had happened. Bits and pieces of it were all that remained. But those bits and pieces were becoming surprisingly clear as the fog in his head lifted. He winced as he remembered taking Andrus almost by force. Perhaps that was the answer to the restraints, then. Had he 238

Dana Erikson

become more physical with Andrus than the man wanted? Had he been subdued for the rest of the lovemaking session? He had no recollection of Andrus taking him. Yet his painful backside attested to the fact that he had been filled. Merrick couldn’t believe that Andrus would satisfy himself while he was unaware. There was something very wrong with that. He climbed from the tub, dried and slipped on a robe, then went back into the bedroom. He crossed the room to open a window and let in some fresh air. The staff were well up, tending to the gardens, vegetable and flower, although their usual chattering was subdued. Beyond them, the sunshine lit up a small pond formed by an eddy of the nearby river. A sigh escaped Merrick. Gods, he wished he were out there, away from the compound, away from Andrus. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run. Not just leave, but run. And he had no idea why. He felt a pang of guilt at the very thought. Andrus had been extremely generous in the last few weeks. He had asked nothing from Merrick. Nothing except sex, and a lot of it. Merrick hadn’t had as much sex in the first twenty-four years of his life as he had since coming to the compound just weeks prior. Strange, he had always dreamed of being in just this situation, of having a partner he could be with without repercussions, without sneaking away, without worrying about the next morning. So, why was he not happy with the way things were? 239

Tears of Gold

He shook his head and once more lay on the bed, closing his eyes. He had to leave, had to get away from all of this, had to clear his head. Maybe a little time and distance would help him think more clearly, put his feelings for Andrus into perspective. If he did love the man, neither time nor distance could quell that love. And if he didn’t love him? He shook himself, and forced his thoughts to other things. Namely, Andrus’ schedule. Andrus had taken to spending several hours after breakfast in his office. After that, he took lunch with Merrick, then spent several hours in the stables, presumably working with the ponies. And this being a race day, he was sure to be in the stables for even longer. Merrick turned his head to view the light outside. Most likely he had already missed his opportunity to leave the compound. It would be locked up until after the races. And then? Then, he could take his leave. He only had to decide if it would be through stealth or the front gate. He looked over as the door to the room opened. Andrus stepped inside, carrying a tray of food. “Ah, you’re awake,” he said, his voice cheery. He placed the tray on a bedside table, then leaned forward and kissed Merrick lightly. “Are you feeling better?” Merrick studied him a moment, all of his wariness suddenly fleeing. “I guess, but I am wondering about these.” He held up his arms, where the red wrist marks were an angry red. 240

Dana Erikson

Andrus winced. “They were to keep you safe, Merrick. I don’t know why you thought you could fly last night, but you certainly went on about it.” “Fly?” “Fly,” Andrus repeated. “You scared the wits out of me. You said you were going to fly from the balcony out there. I thought you’d gotten that flying stuff out of your system when you were a child.” Merrick frowned, forcing his memories to the surface. How could he have forgotten? He had often told Andrus, when they were children, that one day men would fly, just like the birds. Andrus had always laughed at him, teased him about it. In fact, his acerbic teasing was one of the reasons that Merrick had edged away from a relationship with Andrus in those early years. But now? To be speaking of things he thought of as a child? It didn’t make sense. “I brought you something to eat,” Andrus said, gesturing at the food tray. Merrick glanced over, and took a sniff. “Smells good. Chicken soup?” Andrus laughed. “Good for a hangover. Apparently, you can’t handle your wine. Must be few and far between for a good bottle.” Although that was true, Merrick had seldom imbibed to the point of memory lapses. He couldn’t imagine why he had now. He scooted to a sitting position and allowed Andrus to place the tray on his lap. The soup was hot, the juice cold, and one of the two wasn’t happy with its destination. After only half 241

Tears of Gold

of each, Merrick suddenly felt nausea swell through him. He cast a wide-eyed look at Andrus, pushed the half-eaten food from his lap, and stumbled for the bathroom. The washbasin took his vomitus. He was aware of Andrus coming to his aid, helping him back to the dry side of the bed, and wiping his face with a cool cloth. He groaned, covering his eyes with one hand. “Here,” Andrus said, pressing a clean washbasin into his hands. “I’ll call for someone to get this cleaned up. Just sit still.” Merrick could do no more than moan, then heaved again. It felt as if his entire insides were being turned out. He was only just aware of a servant arriving and cleaning up the spilled food. Andrus’ touch startled him. “Merrick?” the man said softly. “We need to get you into a chair so the bed can be changed. All right?” Merrick nodded, and allowed Andrus to help him into an overstuffed chair, where once again he heaved. The bed was remade in quick time, and Merrick was soon resettled, the washbasin cleaned and pillows fluffed behind his back. Andrus drew a chair close, and lay one hand on Merrick’s leg. “I’m sorry,” Merrick said. “I don’t know what happened. I seldom drink enough to be ill.” “That’s all right. Don’t think I haven’t been in your place before,” Andrus said. “But as an adult? It’s embarrassing.” Andrus laughed, then rose. “I’ve got work to finish 242

Dana Erikson

up. Will you be all right here alone?” “I’ll be fine. Go.” Andrus eyed him a moment, then kissed him lightly on the forehead and left the room. Merrick sighed and vomited. ****** By nightfall, he was feeling vastly improved, but realized yet another day had passed in which he had remained at the compound. He wondered how the races were going, if the golden pony was back in the running. The thought brought him tentatively to his feet. Now might be a good time to slip away. Andrus was involved at the races and the pony stables were empty. Merrick suspected that since the races had already started, there would be no guards surrounding the compound. And if there were, he would feign his ignorance, telling them that he only wished to attend the races. It irked him that he might need to lie just to escape the confines of the compound, and he began to feel more a prisoner than a guest. He found his own clothes in the bottom drawer of the bureau, and once dressed, he felt some of his confidence return. He strapped his own dagger on, leaving the jeweled one on the table. A flash of blue caught his eye, and he bent to pull the blue shirt from a jumbled pile of bedclothes. A red wine stain was dribbled down the front of the shirt, and Merrick 243

Tears of Gold

sighed, fingering the fine fabric. Ambrose would never have been so careless with something so expensive. He would have treasured it, not just for the object itself, but for the fact that it was a gift. That Andrus didn’t seem to care bothered Merrick more than he wanted to admit. Resolute, he left the room, but instead of taking the wide staircase to the bottom floor, he turned the other direction. He had never fully explored the enormous house, but he had remembered seeing a servant’s staircase at the end of the long hall. He reached it unseen and crept down it, suddenly mindful of stealth. He wanted to leave, but with no questions or anyone actually witnessing his departure. Especially Andrus. There was no way he could explain his decision to the man, not with everything Andrus had done for him. He was having a hard time explaining it to himself. The staircase emptied into a narrow service hallway that seemed to lead toward the back of the house. Merrick hurried down it, listening for any sounds approaching or coming from behind the doors along the wall. A door at the end of the hallway waited. Merrick hesitated a moment, then slowly, carefully turned the handle, surprised to see two doors there. He cautiously opened one, feeling cool night air brush over his face and hands. All right, so this one led outside. The other? He tried the handle. It was locked. He paused, then curiosity got the better of him. It wasn’t a hard lock to pick, not for him, and 244

Dana Erikson

he pushed open the door. Another staircase greeted him, this one winding up. He thought for a moment, then took the first step, pulling the door closed behind him. The staircase wound almost back on itself, finally ending at another door. Merrick again paused, then placed his ear to the door. He heard nothing, no sound at all. The handle turned easily beneath his fingers, and he pushed the door open just a slit. The room beyond was dark, and he pushed the door open a little more, then slipped inside. A gasp escaped him as his gaze fell on a large window. He was in the hidden room behind the mirror! He crossed the room, feeling out with hands and feet to avoid crashing into anything, until he was standing right next to the glass. He had a perfect view of Andrus’ bedroom, a perfect view of the bed. Embarrassment again flooded through him. If anyone had stood here, they would have seen every intimate gesture between him and Andrus. He prayed that Andrus had been truthful in that no one had been watching. He turned, finding that his eyes had begun to adjust to the lack of light in the room. He could make out a chest of drawers, a table, a cot and a chair that stood facing the mirror. On impulse, he sat down, then cringed. It was in the perfect position for a voyeur. He got to his feet, went to the chest and pulled open one of the drawers. He could only vaguely make out the items inside, but by feel he 245

Tears of Gold

could guess what they were—restraints. Of different sizes, shapes, material. Some seemed to have barbs or points on them, others were soft as silk. There were more items in the drawer, but by feel, Merrick couldn’t tell what they were. He closed the drawer and moved on. The bottom drawer confused him. It seemed to be filled with vials and bags of various sizes. He chose several and stepped closer to the mirror, where the light was better. The first vial held what appeared to be some sort of bark, the second dried leaves and the third he had no idea. It rattled when he shook it. He hesitated, then slipped the three vials into his pants pocket. He would look at them better outside. He turned toward the door, then froze as light suddenly flooded the bedroom. He spun, his breath catching in his throat. Andrus had just entered the room, a lamp in his hand. Merrick watched as the man approached the bed, then looked about the room, his expression puzzled. Merrick quickly slipped back onto the staircase and hurried down. He was back in the hallway in moments, where he straightened his clothing and slipped outside. He hadn’t gone but a few steps when Andrus’ voice reached him from the balcony of the bedroom. “Merrick? Where are you going?” the man called. Merrick stopped and looked up, forcing surprise to his face. “Andrus! I thought you were at the races. I was just going to join you.” “The races are over, Merrick,” Andrus said. His 246

Dana Erikson

gaze flicked over Merrick. “You’re wearing your dagger. Why?” Merrick shrugged. “Habit. So, did your pony win?” Andrus paused before answering. “No.” “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you run the golden?” “No, not tonight. Why?” Merrick shrugged. “I just assumed he was one of your prime athletes.” Andrus seemed to relax a little, although his eyes still held question. “He is, yes. But after that fall in the river, he’s come down with a chill. I don’t want to stress him with excessive exercise.” Merrick sought the only thing he could think of to distract the man. “Well, then, what about stressing me?” A slow smile crossed Andrus’ face. “So, it seems that you’re recovered from last night? Come on back inside.” “Why don’t you come out here?” Merrick countered. “It’s a beautiful night. Bring tea or brandy, your choice.” Andrus seemed to consider it, then nodded. “All right. Wait there. I’ll be down in a moment.” Merrick smiled, then turned back to the gardens, now scowling. His attempt to escape the compound was again thwarted. He pulled out the three vials and studied them. He opened the rattling one first, his brow furrowed. Tiny silver barbs crowded the vial. He tipped some out in his hand. They were no bigger 247

Tears of Gold

than the stinger of a bug, and he shook his head, confused, and dumped them back into the vial. One of the barbs pierced his palm, and he winced, wiping his hand on his pants. It stung almost as a bug bite would sting. He looked at another vial, then noticed it had something scrawled on one side. He turned it sideways and read the words barely visible in the moonlight. He was no herbalist, but he knew this one. It was a sexual enhancer. He’d seen a number of soldiers use it to encourage both men and woman to bed them. He rubbed at his hand, wincing. He needed to take care of the poke. He carefully hid all three vials deep in the dirt of a potted plant standing on the ground near a fountain, then swished his hand in the water. He felt strange, lightheaded, and he wondered what was in that stinging barb. He bent to splash cold water on his face. Andrus’ arrival with the tea caught him off-guard. “Merrick?” Andrus said. “Here,” Merrick replied, straightening. “Seems a bit chilly out here to me,” Andrus said, approaching him. “Are you sure you don’t want to go inside?” Merrick chuckled. “Look up at the sky, Andrus. Can you see that from inside?” Andrus tipped his head back. “No, I guess not. It is beautiful. I guess I don’t spend near enough time looking at it.” But at the moment, Merrick wasn’t looking at it 248

Dana Erikson

either. His gaze was on Andrus’ throat, glowing white under moon and torch. His long locks had fallen back, untethered and gleaming. Merrick suddenly found himself wanting to run his fingers through the silken tresses. It was all he could do to keep himself where he was. His thoughts were swirling, his heart pounding. He could already feel his penis pressing against his clothing. This was absurd! It was with a gasp of disbelief that he realized what he had done. His gaze went to his hand and he stared at it, even though the spot where the barb had pierced was not noticeable. He had drugged himself! “Merrick? Are you all right?” Andrus asked. “Yes!” Merrick retorted, his voice loud and unnatural. Andrus gave him a confused smile, and handed him one of the teacups. Merrick took it with trembling hands and took a gulp of the hot liquid. It burned his throat and tongue but did nothing to quell his sexual desire. He took another drink, and forced himself to sit down on the ledge beside the fountain. Andrus sat next to him, sipping lightly at his own tea, his gaze again on the stars twinkling overhead. Merrick sought out something to steer his mind away from what his body was doing to him. “I’m sorry that I missed the race,” he said. “You didn’t miss much,” Andrus said. “Just Drondo going on and on about his wins and his prowess in bed. Both were equally distasteful.” “I see. So, you won?” 249

Tears of Gold

Andrus frowned. “No, I told you that.” “The golden didn’t run?” “You already asked that. And I already answered,” Andrus said, his tone light and teasing. “You must be still a little scattered from your hangover.” “I guess I am at that. So, humor me, why didn’t you run the golden again?” Andrus laughed. “That dunk in the river infected his lungs. He’s under strict house rest now. I have healers mothering him to death.” He chuckled lightly. “Of course, he thinks there is nothing wrong with him. It’s killing him to be sequestered and not out there racing. But my secondary did well tonight. I was pleased.” Merrick nodded, not really listening to anything Andrus was saying. He was more fixated on the way the moonlight sparkled in the man’s eyes, the way his mouth moved when he spoke, the way his shoulder muscles worked whenever he lifted the cup to his lips. And those lips...Merrick licked his own. Gods! He wanted the man! It made no difference that a little voice deep inside was screaming that his need was only drug-induced. He had to do something or he would take Andrus right there in the garden. He shot to his feet, startling Andrus. “I need to go for a walk,” he said. “A walk? Now?” Andrus stood as well. “Merrick, are you all right?” “I’m fine. Just a little restless.” An idea suddenly occurred to him. “A horse ride. A moonlight horse 250

Dana Erikson

ride. That’s what I need.” Andrus hesitated. “I’m a little tired. Why don’t you just come to bed?” Merrick swallowed his groan. He didn’t want to get into bed with the man. He knew what would happen. What he wanted to happen. Gods! His conflicting emotions were making him tremble. Andrus apparently took it for something else. He moved close to Merrick, slipping his arms about him. “I could make it worth your while,” he said softly. At that, Merrick did groan. “A horse ride,” he managed. “Please.” Andrus nodded. “As you wish.” He gripped Merrick’s hand. “I’ll go with you.” That was not what Merrick had intended, but he allowed Andrus to pull him along to the stables. He knew he would not be able to withstand whatever drug was in the barb. And quite suddenly he no longer cared to try. Once inside the warm, dark building, he simply gave up and relinquished himself to his desires. He pressed Andrus against the wall, and when Andrus started to protest, Merrick silenced him with a punishing kiss. “Wait,” Andrus managed, gasping for a breath. “Not here. Come.” “I’m about to, Andrus,” Merrick growled. Andrus smiled, and pulled him further into the darkness. Merrick stumbled along, unable to see much, trusting himself to Andrus’ familiarity of the stables. Finally, the man stopped. 251

Tears of Gold

“In there. You’ll find a thickness of straw.” Merrick grinned and started towards it, but Andrus held back. “Let me get a blanket. You don’t want to lie directly in that, trust me,” he said, and before Merrick could reach for him, he slipped out. Merrick grimaced, closing his eyes, his need so urgent it hurt. He heard rustling in the stall just opposite the one he was in, but couldn’t see anything through the blackness. Andrus’ return startled him, and he heard, more than saw, the man place a blanket down. “There now, Merrick,” Andrus said. “This will be much nicer. But keep it down. The stable hands patrol every quarter hour. We don’t want them to find us.” Merrick spared him any answer, but the thought of discovery exhilarated him further. He grabbed the man’s robe and pulled it over his head, then tumbled with him to the straw. Andrus grunted, taking on Merrick’s weight. Merrick slipped free of his own clothing and immediately sought out Andrus’s penis with his mouth, eliciting a gasp from the man. He sucked and stroked and teased, Andrus’ soft moans filling him with want. But he would make this last, make Andrus squirm beneath him. He would hear the man beg, just as he, himself, had begged Andrus on prior occasions. All the while his mouth stroked Andrus’ shaft, his hands slid up and down the man’s sides, thighs and buttocks. “Gods, Merrick,” Andrus whispered, his breathing 252

Dana Erikson

hard and fast. “Keep doing that and you’ll be tasting me.” The words were exactly what Merrick wanted to hear, and his finger sought out Andrus’ anus. He pressed, drawing a sharp gasp from the man. “Merrick,” Andrus managed, then let out a loud groan as Merrick pushed two fingers inside him. At the same moment, Merrick drove Andrus deep into his throat, then drew back slowly, his mouth tight. Andrus shuddered, then groaned again and suddenly loosed his seed. His cries of release seemed loud in the dark stillness. Merrick held fast to him as he quieted, then smiled. Now, it was his turn. He sat up, and flipped Andrus onto his belly, then drew him back. He could barely see Andrus’ buttocks, but he had the sudden urge to inflict pain with his own pleasure. He drew back his hand and slapped Andrus soundly on one cheek. The man gasped, letting out a yelp of pain. “Hush,” Merrick warned. “We don’t want the guards to hear us.” As if in answer, there came a muffled sound from beyond the stall. Merrick paused, waiting, then when he heard no footfalls, he slapped Andrus yet again. And again, each time striking harder, each time drawing forth a muffled yelp from the man beneath him, each time increasing his own thrill. And then suddenly there came footfalls, tromping slowly, steadily down the aisle of the stable. Merrick positioned himself at Andrus’ opening, and just as the 253

Tears of Gold

footfalls reached the stable gate, he thrust. He could tell by Andrus’ response that the man was trying to cover up the sound of a moan, trying to keep whomever it was outside the stall from hearing him. Merrick grinned, drew back and thrust again, over and over. And as the footfalls faded away, he reached his own orgasm and almost choked on his own cry of satiation as he filled Andrus. He collapsed on the man’s back, breathing hard. “Damn, Merrick,” Andrus mumbled. “That was...wonderful. But I won’t be able to sit down for a week.” “No pain, no pleasure, remember?” Merrick replied. Andrus lie still, as if waiting, then spoke again. “Well? Are we going to stay here the night? Or will you move off me?” “We’ll stay here the night,” Merrick replied. “I might want to take you again before sunrise. This way, I’m already in position to do so.” Andrus chuckled. “We’ll get bit by bugs.” The words reminded Merrick of the barb sting on his hand. Like a bug. His thoughts flitted back to the day at the eatery. The day Andrus had pleasured him right out in public. His hand drifted to his neck, his thoughts spinning. Was it possible that Andrus had somehow stung him with one of those barbs that day? It would explain why Merrick could not say no, even though he was completely embarrassed by his actions that day. 254

Dana Erikson

“Merrick?” Andrus tried again, and shifted against him. Merrick acquiesced and rolled aside. He touched at Andrus’ cheek, then gave him another kiss. “What is it about you that makes me so...insatiable?” “Well,” Andrus said. “I’d like to think it’s me. And maybe love?” Merrick pondered on that. Love? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He wondered if he had ever made love to Andrus, or just answered to a carnal need, whether it was drug induced or not. Sudden sleepiness claimed him, and he closed his eyes. “I think I might sleep right here,” he mumbled. “Absolutely not!” Andrus cried. “Think what the stable hands would see in the morning.” “I don’t care,” Merrick said. “Yes, you do. Now, get up.” Merrick opened one eye to peer at the shadow of Andrus. “Again?” he teased. Andrus laughed quietly. “Who knows? I might be up for more by the time we get back to our bed.” Merrick heard him stand and dress, then flinched as Andrus tossed his clothes at him. It took some fumbling about to get the trousers turned about the right way and get the shirt back on, but at last, he was dressed. He felt Andrus take his hand, and together, they slipped from the stables, back into the garden. Merrick thought he heard a noise, rather like someone sniffling, but the sound of the approaching stable hands sent him and Andrus into a jog, heading for the 255

Tears of Gold

house and maybe more fun once inside.

256

Dana Erikson

Chapter Twenty-Two

A

ndrus stared at the drawer, his mouth drawn in a tight line. Some of his drugs were missing. In particular, the darts. He scowled. Mostly likely Thurcan. He was the only one other than Andrus who knew how to get to the hidden room. Andrus clenched his jaw in anger. He would have to have it out with the man. His gaze shifted to the window wall. Merrick was sprawled out on the bed, still asleep. Things had worked out well. Besides the exceptional sex, Andrus had managed an audience. He smiled even now, remembering how he had wakened Ambrose by taking his blanket. The very blanket he and Merrick had used. The very blanket that Andrus had tossed back into Ambrose’s stall as Merrick had dressed. Andrus had made sure to use Merrick’s name often during the lovemaking. He wanted there to be no doubt in Ambrose’s mind that Merrick wanted him. After last night, there shouldn’t be. The dismal failure in the hidden room was a thing of the past. Now, all Andrus had to do, was to get to the stables and see the gold. If there was any. And if there weren’t? Well, Ambrose might have outlived his usefulness. Andrus smiled, quite forgetting about the missing drugs, and slipped down the staircase and out the back door. 257

Tears of Gold

He found Ambrose awake, huddled forlornly into a corner of the stall. The blanket lay across from him, as if he had kicked it there in anger. He looked up at Andrus, eyes seething hatred. Andrus smiled, picked up a lantern and held it close. He almost collapsed at what he saw. Gold! Tiny flakes smeared over Ambrose’s cheeks, on the gag he still wore, his shoulder where he’d tried to wipe them, his chest where they had dripped. Almost in a daze, Andrus reached into the crate, and pulled out a small vial. Without a word to Ambrose, he scraped what he could of the gold from the man’s skin. It wasn’t much—most had been lost by Ambrose’s lame attempts to hide it. But it was enough to prove to Andrus that Merrick’s words were true. He snapped the top on the vial, and regarded Ambrose with a wide smile. “Did you like the show last night?” he asked, removing the gag. He would scrape the gold from it later. “We tried to keep it down, but you know how vocal lovers can be.” “Bastard!” Ambrose breathed. Andrus drew back. “Excuse me?” He glared at the man. “I don’t think that’s a proper way to talk to your master, do you?” He dropped the vial in his robe pocket, picked up a tawse and laid a line on Ambrose’s shoulder. Ambrose winced, but continued to glare at him. It was actually quite unsettling for Andrus. He was used to having slaves cower, not stare back at him defiantly. And Ambrose had certainly never really 258

Dana Erikson

defied him before this. True, he had fought back a time or two, but not with any real conviction. Now? Now he radiated pure hatred, not the resignation Andrus had expected. He cocked his head to one side, and sat down on the cot, pushing the blanket to one side. “Does it bother you that much that Merrick and I are lovers?” he asked. “Merrick doesn’t love you,” Ambrose retorted. “Oh? So, I suppose he loves you then?” Ambrose swallowed hard, but did not answer the question. “He would never love someone like you.” The words stirred Andrus’ anger further, but he held back. It would do no good to beat the man senseless as he felt like doing. He had something Andrus wanted, and Andrus knew now how to get it. Still, it could get risky to keep performing so close to Ambrose. He had to think of something else. The hidden room seemed logical. He could move Ambrose there, keep him close so that he could witness all of Merrick’s passion. But there was the problem of the mirror. It needed to be recoated, making it harder to see through from the bedroom. That would be the first task to complete. He stood, tossed the soiled blanket at Ambrose and strode from the stable, his mind on his task at hand. ****** “What?” Merrick mumbled, trying to bat away the 259

Tears of Gold

hand that shook him. He forced his eyes open to see Andrus sitting beside him. “What do you want?” “Time to get up,” Andrus said cheerily. Merrick glanced towards the window. “It’s still night out.” Andrus laughed, stood and pulled the heavy drapery, flooding the room with light. Merrick groaned, turning aside. “All right, so it’s not night, but I’m not ready to get up yet,” he said. “I thought you might like to go for that horse ride now,” Andrus said. “We sort of missed it last night.” Merrick turned over to face him. “I remember.” He felt a strange flutter in the pit of his stomach. He did remember, even though he didn’t really want to. He knew it had been the drug that had overpowered his senses, and he was ashamed of it. He pushed to a sitting position. “You’re right. I would like a ride. Let me get bathed and dressed.” “I’ll get the horses ready. I assume you’ll be wanting your own?” ****** Not much later, he and Andrus rode through the gates of the compound. They had left the back way, with leagues of arid ground stretching out before them. Merrick kept his pace slow to allow his horse a chance to stretch his muscles. Andrus had chosen a feisty brown thoroughbred as his ride, and the horse seemed eager to just run. It was all Andrus could do 260

Dana Erikson

to hold him back. Finally, he looked over at Merrick. “I’ve go to let this horse go, Merrick.” Merrick nodded, noticing how his own horse was playing off the brown’s energy. He looked ahead at a copse of trees. “Is there water over there?” Andrus looked where he pointed and nodded. “Yes, there are springs throughout this area. Almost wherever you find a spot of trees, there’s some water.” “Drinkable?” Andrus nodded. “Want to race?” Merrick grinned. “That old nag?” he teased. Andrus laughed and put his heels to the brown’s side. The animal bolted forward at the touch. But Merrick’s mount was just as ready, and leapt to the race. Merrick bent low, letting the horse guide himself. It took no whip, no hand, no urging for the horses to run. They ran simply for the love of running. For a while, they were neck and neck, then Merrick’s horse gathered himself and shot past the brown, leaving rider and horse in a cloud of dust. Merrick reached the copse of trees well ahead of Andrus, and slowed to a stop. The horse pranced about, obviously not ready to stop. Merrick laughed and patted the animal on the neck. “Take it a little slower,” he crooned. “I know you’ve been pent up. My fault. I’ll not let it happen again.” He looked up at Andrus thundered into the glade. “Took you long enough,” he taunted. 261

Tears of Gold

Andrus glowered at him for a second, then abruptly smiled, although it seemed forced. “Your horse is quite the runner, Merrick.” “He is at that,” Merrick said, sliding to the ground. He led the horse to the water. “But yours kept up well.” “He’s a good horse,” Andrus agreed, also dropping from the saddle. “My fastest, really. But he doesn’t get a chance to just run very often. Work takes up too much of my time.” “Well, I would imagine that with a business such as yours, you wouldn’t have much time for anything but work. In fact, I’m feeling a little guilty at the amount of time you’re spending with me.” Andrus frowned. “You shouldn’t. It’s time well spent. I enjoy it. I was under the impression that you did, as well.” It was almost a question, and Merrick nodded. “I do. Hasn’t that been obvious?” Andrus smiled. “I guess so.” “You guess so? I’m not sure I like that answer.” Andrus laughed and clapped Merrick on the shoulder. “All right, you and your horse both win. It’s been obvious. There. Are you happy?” Merrick nodded, but his thoughts were far from happy. It felt so good to just be outside of the compound. It was like he could breathe again. He almost wished Andrus wasn’t here with him. And just as he wished that, guilt again appeared. Why did he want to be free of the man so badly? He rubbed at 262

Dana Erikson

his neck, then hunkered down by the stream to dab cold water on his face. “Thirsty?” Andrus asked, holding out a waterskin. Merrick took it on instinct, then paused. What if there was something in the water? Would Andrus even do that? Continually drug him to keep him interested? He had been very forthcoming with Merrick the first time, admitting to the use of the enhancer. And if he was forthright at the onset, then what point could there be to hide it now? Merrick shook the thought aside and took a pull from the waterskin, then handed it back, watching Andrus take a drink. Well, if there was an herb in the water, they both just had it. And time would tell if they would both react. “It’s peaceful here,” Merrick said, sitting back. “It is. I don’t get out here often enough,” Andrus said, joining him. “I should. It’s a nice respite.” For a long time, the two men sat in silence, just enjoying the solitude. Finally, Andrus spoke. “I have a confession to make, Merrick,” he said quietly. “That’s why I brought you out here.” Merrick looked over at him, tensing. But Andrus didn’t say what he expected. “I think...I think someone’s been in the hidden room,” he said, averting his gaze. Merrick caught at his breath. “Really?” “Yes. I keep extra brandy, wine, other liqueurs in there. I found some missing. Which makes me believe that someone might have been in there.” 263

Tears of Gold

Merrick was quiet a moment, in which he remembered to breathe. He had seen no evidence of the items Andrus had mentioned, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. “And they saw us?” Andrus winced. “Not ‘they.’ Just him. One of my guards. He knows how to get in there.” He turned to face Merrick. “I am so sorry. I promised you that no one would be in there. I failed in that promise.” “No, you didn’t. We don’t know that someone was there when we were in the bedroom, do we?” “Well, no, I suppose not. But it’s possible. Thurcan is...well, he gets excited when he’s watching others.” The mere thought brought a grimace to Merrick’s face. “I’m sorry,” Andrus said again. “It won’t happen again, though, because I’m having the room boarded up. No one will be able to see through the mirror again.” Merrick thought about that for a second. “But I thought you said that sometimes it was necessary for a guard to be watching.” Andrus gave him a hurt look, then abruptly got to his feet. “Well, when you leave, Merrick, I’ll have it un-boarded.” His tone was brusque, and he prepared to mount his horse. Merrick quickly got to his feet and placed a restraining hold on Andrus’ arm. “That didn’t come out the right way,” he said. “I just meant...I didn’t want you to put yourself in danger because of my insecurities.” 264

Dana Erikson

“And how would I be in danger if you stayed?” Andrus asked. “No, the danger would only return if you were to leave. Apparently, that’s on your mind. Again.” Merrick sighed, and he pulled Andrus away from the horse. “Andrus, I can’t stay forever. You know that. Or you should. I’m a deserter, for gods’ sakes. I have three more years of service to the king. It’ll probably be double that as punishment, if I don’t end up in a gaol cell first. I have to go back. I can’t run forever. Eventually, they’ll find me. I’d rather go back on my own power, by my own decision.” “I understand,” Andrus mumbled. “And I don’t expect that you’ll come back here after your enlistment is finished.” It was more a question than a statement, and Merrick wasn’t sure how to answer it. He couldn’t stand the hurt in Andrus’ eyes, the loneliness in his voice. At the same time, he didn’t want to promise what he might not be able to deliver. He chose his words carefully. “I might not make it back, Andrus, through no fault of my own.” Andrus studied him a moment, then held him close. “I don’t like the fact that you’ll still be in harm’s way, Merrick. It’s tearing me apart inside.” “I’ve survived this long. I’m sure I can make it through three more years.” Merrick kissed Andrus lightly. “I’ll pray for you, then,” Andrus said, pulling 265

Tears of Gold

away. “But, for now, I don’t want to think about you leaving. I have to get back. I have work to do.” “But it’s early yet,” Merrick protested. Andrus smiled. “Maybe for you. But for me, the morning’s gone.” Merrick stood. “Is there anything I can help you with? I feel a little useless at the moment.” Andrus paused, eyeing him. “I’ll tell you what. I’m supposed to ride for report on the mines today. I’ve wasted a lot of time, by my choice, I must admit. What if you take report for me? That way, I can get the paperwork done while you get out and about and exercise your horse.” Merrick glanced towards the mines, then nodded. “Seems easy enough. What should I ask?” “It’s just collecting the right papers from the overseers. They should have them all ready for you.” Merrick laughed. “Busy work?” He laughed again at the look that crossed Andrus’ face. “Just teasing. Of course, I’ll be glad to do it. Like you said, my horse could use the exercise.” “Thank you, Merrick,” Andrus said and swung into the brown’s saddle. “You should be done just after lunchtime. We’ll take an early supper out on the terrace. Or in town. Your choice.” Merrick nodded his agreement and watched Andrus ride away. ******

266

Dana Erikson

Several hours later, he rode back toward the city, exhausted. Even his horse seemed finished for the day, the sun’s heat taking its toll on them both. He had dismounted and was walking in whatever shade he could find, following the river, eyeing it for a place where he might cool off with a swim. But the river, though wide, was menacing, churning at its heart with deadly whirlpools. Still, Merrick remembered the small eddy he’d seen from the balcony, and headed in that direction. He had to tromp through thick, malodorous mud several times, but at last he reached a copse of trees. It was blessedly cool underneath, and he unsaddled the horse to allow him to relax in the shade. He looked around for someplace to sit, then noticed a long wooden plank extending from the water’s edge to a heavy stone. He frowned and approached it, puzzled. It was sitting at a right angle to the water, which seemed an odd way to place a bench. Curious, he followed it to a second stone. Here, the plank was mounted on a swivel as if...Merrick gasped. A dunking plank! He’d heard of these. They were used for torture, to drag information out of the enemy with the threat of drowning if they didn’t talk. Merrick had heard of people dying from such methods of questioning. He wondered why Andrus would have such a thing on his property. Perhaps it had belonged to a former owner. But then, Andrus had said he had built the entire compound and city. So why this? 267

Tears of Gold

Merrick shook his head, his gaze flitting about the river and the trees around it. Something swaying in the branches caught his eye and he moved closer. Thick ropes had been tied to a tree limb. Merrick studied them a moment, then untied a rope and let it swing free. It moved in a slow arc out over the water, swished back and forth a few times, then settled. It made little sense, but it sent unease to Merrick’s gut. He pulled on another rope, surprised to find that it reeled in the first rope. So, something could be swung out over the water, then pulled back as needed. He tied off the rope, and returned to his horse, feeling as if he were being watched. He picked up the saddle, balanced it on his shoulder and started towards the stables, the horse following obediently. They were met at the stable door by a young man. “I’ll take your horse, M’Lord,” he said. “That’s all right,” Merrick returned. “I’ll brush him out myself.” The boy shot him a surprised look. “But, M’Lord, I was told to—” “I would rather do it myself,” Merrick interrupted, and pushed past the young man and into the stables. He heard the man give a despairing sigh, then hurry away. Merrick frowned, and slid the door wide on an empty stall. Or what he thought to be an empty stall. He stopped short, his gaze darting over the stall’s contents. A cot? His gaze moved up the wall. Restraints? He swallowed hard not understanding 268

Dana Erikson

what he saw. He dropped the saddle and stepped into the stall. There was a small water trough, a bucket, a cot, a blanket and the restraints. But for the latter, Merrick would have thought someone was bedding down here. Maybe a stable hand? But why the restraints? “M’Lord!” a man boomed from behind. Merrick whirled, his dagger already out. The man stumbled backward, eyes wide. The younger man hovered behind him, wringing his hands in obvious distress. “What is this?” Merrick demanded, gesturing at the wall. The big man’s gaze shot to the restraints and back to Merrick. “M’Lord shouldn’t be in here,” he said, his voice pleading. “Please, would M’Lord come with me?” Merrick regarded him thoughtfully. The man seemed ready to either faint or vomit right where he stood. Whatever was going on here, it was clear that Merrick wasn’t supposed to know of it. And equally clear that the two men before him might be in trouble because he did. He nodded, and stepped past them into the aisleway. “Thank you, M’Lord,” the man blubbered. “Thank you. Dosti will show you to the main house. I’ll take care of your horse myself, M’Lord. He’ll get the best care there is.” If you say nothing, Merrick finished mentally. “Very well,” he said, then glanced once more into the 269

Tears of Gold

stall. And froze. Sunlight penetrated several chinks in the wooden walls and now fell directly into the corner of the stall, where it caught at something gold. Merrick spun, pushed past the two men and rushed to the corner, where he hunkered down. Gold flakes littered the filthy straw, clung to the rough wooden wall. Merrick spun and snatched up the blanket, holding it out. Gold was caught in the fibers on one edge, and Merrick lifted his gaze, looking past the two distraught men to the stall opposite. A thick pile of hay lay there, hay he and Andrus had lain in the previous night. And suddenly Merrick heard again the sniffling sound that had come from the darkness. Disbelief robbed his legs of strength, and he nearly collapsed onto the cot. “Where is he?” he asked, his voice shaking. He looked at the two men. The men exchanged quick, terrified glances, then looked back at Merrick. Merrick came to his feet, fury driving him. “Where is he?” he roared, brandishing his dagger. “I...I...don’t know who you speak of, M’Lord!” the older man squeaked. Merrick took two steps and had the man by the throat. The younger man shrank to one side, but stopped when Merrick’s gaze caught him. “There was a man here,” Merrick snarled. “Now, where is he?” Tears sprang to the man’s eyes. “No man, M’Lord. No man.” 270

Dana Erikson

Merrick growled in fury and flung him away, then grabbed for the younger man. “He’s in the house!” the man cried, the color draining from his face. “Don’t kill me! Please!” “The house?” Merrick mumbled. He frowned, puzzled, feeling as if were in some sort of nightmare. It had to be Ambrose. It had to be! But why? Why would he be here? How could Andrus not know? Not tell him? “How long has he been here?” he asked. “Dosti,” the older man whispered. “Your life.” The younger man sagged. “My life is over anyway, Gregor.” He looked at Merrick. “As is yours. When Lord Andrus finds you were here, he will kill you.” Merrick started. “What? Why?” “Leave!” Gregor urged. “Take your horse and ride, while you have the chance.” Merrick rubbed at his temples with one hand. “How long was he here?” he asked again. “Months. I don’t know,” Dosti answered. Months? Merrick’s mouth fell open in astonishment. No. That couldn’t be. Months! Why would Andrus keep this from him? Fury coursed through him. Andrus had lied! Time and again, portraying the helpful, sympathetic friend. Telling Merrick that his men were searching everywhere, when Ambrose was right here, in the compound. His gaze went again to the restraints and his stomach tumbled. Restrained? Like an animal? Or...or a slave! He spun back to Dosti. 271

Tears of Gold

“You said he’s in the house! Where?” “I...I don’t know,” Dosti stammered, then suddenly gasped. Merrick whirled at the sound of heavy footfalls. One of the guards strode toward him, a look of dark anger on his face. “What are you doing in here?” he demanded, his gaze flicking over Dosti, Gregor and finally Merrick. “Stabling my horse,” Merrick retorted, his grip tightening on his dagger. “I was just about to leave. Is there a problem?” The guard’s eyes narrowed. His gaze went to the stall, then back to Merrick. He made the slightest gesture towards his sword, but Merrick was faster. He was not about to stand and argue, or take the chance that Dosti was right. His dagger flashed out once, severing the guard’s neck. The man toppled with only a low gurgle. Merrick gestured to Gregor and Dosti. “Get him in there. Hide him. Get my horse and the brown ready to go. Get one for each of you. Have them waiting. I’m going for my friend. We leave together.” He left the two men, seeing their affirmation in their eyes. They would be waiting. He strode toward the house, his destination sure, his mind set. He had a pretty good idea just where Ambrose would be. He would have to play this carefully, however. He had no desire to be caught by Andrus. He slipped into the back door, and quickly picked the lock to the secret staircase. Andrus had 272

Dana Erikson

told him that the room was being boarded up. Why now? Because someone had been in the hidden room? Was someone else now being hidden there? He would see for himself. He crept up the stairs, keeping his dagger ready. It was dark in the stairwell, which served him well. The handle to the hidden room turned easily in his grasp. He opened the door just a slit, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He was in luck, as the sunlight outside the bedroom window filtered into the hidden room as well. There were two figures, one seated, one standing behind him. The one seated had to be Ambrose, the other a guard. Merrick hesitated, then made just enough sound to draw the guards attention. The big man turned as if listening, then moved toward the door. As soon as he was close, Merrick darted inside, taking him down with one vicious slice across his neck. Ambrose jerked towards him, a muffled gasp escaping around the gag in his mouth. Merrick rushed to his side, pulled the gag out, then fumbled with the ties that bound him to the chair. As soon as Ambrose was free, Merrick pulled him up and into his arms. For a long moment, Ambrose stood stiff, as if in shock, then he began to shake. “Shhh,” Merrick whispered. “It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe now.” Still, Ambrose said nothing, and he suddenly pushed away from Merrick. With a despairing sob, he grasped the golden nipple shields, one in each hand 273

Tears of Gold

and tore them from his body. Merrick gasped in shock as blood trickled down Ambrose’s bare chest to stain the waistband of his threadbare breeches. “Oh, Ambrose, no,” Merrick whispered, then caught at the young man as he abruptly sagged. The golden pony! Ambrose had been the golden pony. Merrick felt his insides churn as he remembered how he had watched Ambrose run, tied, hooded, desperate enough to try to drown himself in the river. His gaze shot to the nipple shields, glittering dully in the far corner of the room, and he felt as if he might collapse as well. He clutched Ambrose to him, his own trembling almost matching Ambrose’s, feeling warm blood seep through his clothing to his own skin. Finally, he pulled back, casting his gaze about for something to use as a bandage. Finally, he snatched up the gag, tore it in half and pressed one wad of material against each of Ambrose’s nipples. He gently lifted Ambrose’s hands and pressed them against the cloth. The young man looked up at him in a daze, obviously not really sure what he had done. “Come on, Ambrose,” Merrick said softly. “I’m taking you out of here.” He started towards the door, then stopped as the door at the bottom of the stairs suddenly opened. Footfalls sounded on the stairs. “No,” Ambrose mumbled, deep terror in the single word. Merrick quickly lowered him to the chair. “Sit still. Pretend you’re still bound. It’ll be all right. I promise. He will not get you again. Trust me.” He hoped the 274

Dana Erikson

young man would do as told, and slipped into the shadows by the door to wait. A soft glow of a low-lit lamp preceded Andrus into the room. Merrick was temporarily blinded by the sudden light and shrank back. “Thurcan?” Andrus cried as the light landed on the dead guard. Merrick started forward, but Ambrose suddenly sprang from the chair. With a roar of defiance and rage, the young man barreled directly into Andrus, carrying him backwards through the open door. The lamp crashed to the floor, plunging the room into momentary darkness before the spilled oil leapt into flames. Merrick scrambled forward even as he heard the sound of two bodies tumbling down the steep staircase. “Ambrose!” he cried, and rushed down the stairs, nearly falling over the two men at the bottom. Both lay still. Ambrose bled from a gash to his forehead, but Andrus lay with his neck at an unnatural angle, blood seeping from his ears. “By the gods,” Merrick whispered, hunkering down beside them. He wasn’t sure who to reach for first. The door to the outside suddenly flew open, and Merrick whirled. Several servants stood there, their faces white as they turned stunned gazes on Andrus. “A healer,” Merrick managed. “Someone fetch the healer!”

275

Tears of Gold

****** Merrick sighed and rubbed at his face. Ambrose lay on the bed before him, his head bandaged. More than a week had passed and still he had not regained consciousness. Merrick reached out and touched gently at the red welts on the young man’s wrist and neck, then drew back the covers, wincing as he regarded the torn skin about Ambrose’s nipples. The other ponies, as well as the stablehands, had informed him that the shields had been done as torture and humiliation, nothing more. It explained Ambrose’s need to rid himself of the golden sun shields the moment he was able to do so. Consumed with rage and disbelief at what Andrus had done to Ambrose, and what Ambrose had done to himself, Merrick had disposed of the shields himself and flung them into the river. He only wished he could so easily dispose of the horrible pain that gripped him. Ambrose lay here, possibly dying, while on the hillside to the east of town, Andrus had already been laid to rest. His neck had been broken in the fall. There had been nothing the healer could do. Merrick had sat by his one-time friend and held his hand while he breathed his last. And now, he wondered if he was doing the same thing with Ambrose. He still had no answers, didn’t know why Andrus had done the things he’d done, didn’t know how he could have. Merrick had never thought Andrus a cruel man—until now. Ambrose was covered with 276

Dana Erikson

bruises, rod and whip bites. He’d been restrained, beaten and violated over and over. The healer had given him powerful medicine to staunch the infection raging inside him, but could not promise full recovery. He hadn’t even suggested that Ambrose would wake from his head injury. Merrick rose and went to the window to peer outside, his gaze drifting towards the blackened remains of Andrus’ compound. It had been destroyed—much of it anyway. The fire had found purchase in the wooden walls and ornate furnishings, in the expensive brandies and strange herbs. None of the servants had been particularly eager to squelch the flames. In fact, most of them had watched the house burn with a sort of wary glee. The king’s men had rode into town overnight, brought by the fire lighting the sky like a torch. Tarad had been with them, and was overjoyed to find both Merrick and Ambrose alive. Merrick hadn’t much time to talk with the man, but Tarad had told him that Danard and Joen had been found, and the men responsible for their abduction arrested. He had already sent word back to King Phator about his findings, and the king had sent more troops to deal with the situation, both in Ossey and Andrustown. Phator was furious that slavery had run rampant right under his nose. Ossey had been cleansed first, then work had started on Andrustown. Already houses had been investigated, slaves freed and masters taken into custody. Merrick absently 277

Tears of Gold

wondered if Lord Drondo was one of them. At least he hadn’t lied about the slaves. Andrus had. And about most everything else. Merrick was still in a state of disbelief at all he had been told, at how easily the lies had fallen from Andrus’ tongue. True, the mines were his, but he had gained his wealth and extravagant lifestyle at the expense of others. All of the servants were slaves. Most of the guards as well. All had been in fear of their lives should they ever mention the word slave to anyone. It was no wonder no one had seemed unduly saddened by Andrus’ death, but rather relieved. All except Merrick. Even now, tears blurred his vision, and he brushed them away with a degree of anger—at himself, at Andrus. He could never forgive Andrus for what he’d done, never condone his actions, but could not so easily remove traces of the man from his heart. He had seen a different side of Andrus. Or at least, he liked to believe he had. He wished Andrus had lived. Maybe then, Merrick could have questioned him, heard from the man himself just what he had done to Ambrose and others like him. Maybe then it would have given Merrick fuel for hatred. Now, with Andrus dead, there were no answers, no explanations and the man’s death had left a strange hole in his heart. He spun at a soft moan from Ambrose, and rushed to the young man’s side. Ambrose opened his eyes, cloudy with confusion and pain. He blinked several times, then seemed to focus on Merrick. “Welcome back,” Merrick whispered, his voice 278

Dana Erikson

shaking with relief. He reached to brush the hair from Ambrose’s forehead, but Ambrose pulled back, anger and accusation in the blue eyes. The look drove deep into Merrick’s heart, although he had expected nothing less. He sank onto the bedside chair, his words tumbling from him. Words he had longed to say for so many months. He knew he should be letting Ambrose rest, knew he should fetch the healer. But he had to purge his soul first, had to try to ease his conscience. If nothing else, he had to beg forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Ambrose. Gods, I am so sorry. For everything. For leaving you in Orma, for not being there to protect you against those men, for not knowing you were here. I — “ Ambrose shook his head, stopping Merrick. “Do you love him?” he whispered. “What?” Merrick drew back, surprised at the question. “I saw you. With him. He made me watch. Do you love him?” Merrick hesitated, his heart thumping wildly. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “My actions weren’t my own most of the time, I found out. Andrus...he liked to use herbs to...” He swallowed hard, embarrassment almost overwhelming him. “To be truthful, Ambrose, I don’t know how I would have reacted towards him had it not been for the drugs he fed me.” “He said he knew you as children,” Ambrose said. He paused, then drew a breath, seeming to regain 279

Tears of Gold

some of his strength, and continued. “That he was your first lover. Is he still your lover, Merrick?”“ Merrick felt color touch at his face. “He was my first lover, yes.” He swallowed hard, seeing the agony settle in Ambrose’s blue eyes. “But...he’s dead, Ambrose. He died in the fall down the stairs.” Ambrose sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m not sorry, Merrick,” he murmured, although tears crept from beneath his lashes. “He deserved to die.” He began to tremble. “It wasn’t right, what he did. It wasn’t right.” Merrick choked on his own sob. He reached for Ambrose, then stopped, unsure. He wanted to comfort the young man, hold him, share his feelings, beg his forgiveness. But he wasn’t sure that Ambrose would even allow it. To be so close to the man physically and yet so far away emotionally broke his heart. He covered his face with both hands, weeping quietly. Ambrose’s touch startled him, and he looked up, brushing his tears aside. “Why did you leave Orma?” Ambrose asked. “For you,” Merrick replied, and heard how hollow that really sounded. How could he have expected a child of eleven to understand that? Did he really understand it himself? Had he really left Orma just for Ambrose? Or had it been for himself as well? To escape the pain of losing Andrus, of the betrayal? He wasn’t sure anymore. He shook the thoughts aside. “I should fetch the healer. You shouldn’t be talking.” He started to rise, but Ambrose clutched weakly at his arm, stopping him. 280

Dana Erikson

“I thought you would never come back. My mother told me to have faith in you. I tried, Merrick, I really did, but each year that went by...I thought you had forgotten all about me.” “No!” Merrick interrupted. “There hasn’t been a day in the last seven years that I haven’t thought of you, Ambrose. Everything I did, everything I learned, was for you. I knew I couldn’t protect you as Merrick Underson, gravedigger, but I thought I could protect you as Lt. Underson, military officer. I was wrong, though. Gods, I was so wrong. I should have stayed. If I had, none of this would have happened. You would have been safe.” He struggled to finish his thoughts under another wash of tears. “I would give anything to go back in time and make different decisions. I would have been there to stop those men, Ambrose, those who attacked you, violated you, cut you.” “They didn’t cut me,” Ambrose said softly. Merrick frowned, confused. “But Tarad said that they tried to...to castrate you.” “I did it, Merrick,” Ambrose said, and tears filled his eyes. “I did it to myself.” Merrick started, bile standing at the back of his throat. “You did?” he breathed, his head reeling. “Why?” Ambrose’s tears fell faster as if reliving the agony, the desperation of what he had done to himself. His hands went to his chest, to the torn flesh of his nipples, and he looked back at Merrick, his blue eyes 281

Tears of Gold

distant and glazed with shock. His voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted them to leave me alone, to see me as nothing, not a man, not their whore. I didn’t want to live anymore, Merrick. I couldn’t stand the emptiness.” His chest began to heave with his sobs, his words tumbling together. “I wanted to be with you, and I couldn’t. I tried to find you. I went to our place and I called for you. But you never came. Gods! You never came. And then they found me and they...they...” He brought both hands up to cover his face, his words lost in golden tears. Merrick could barely breathe. He could not even guess at the horrors, the pain, the humiliation Ambrose had endured before he ever got to Andrus. The horrors that Andrus had added to in the months he held Ambrose prisoner. But he blamed himself for it all, and he had no idea how he would ever forgive himself. He reached out a trembling hand and placed it gently on Ambrose’s forehead. “Merrick! Gods! Hold me! Please, hold me!” Ambrose cried, and grabbed desperately at his hand, pulling him onto the bed beside him, clinging to him, sobbing hysterically. Merrick’s emotions broke loose and he began to sob as well, holding Ambrose close, taking solace in the safety of their embrace. He wanted to never let go, to hold this man who meant so much to him for an eternity. Ambrose’s words finally hit him—he had called Merrick. Not Anona? But Ambrose? Merrick had thought 282

Dana Erikson

the golden tears in the grass by the stream had been a result of Ambrose’s grief over Anona’s death. To learn that they had been tears of despair over Merrick sent renewed pain through Merrick, and he wondered if Ambrose even knew Anona was dead. He wasn’t sure how to tell him, when he had suffered so much already. Merrick thought it would be best to wait until he was stronger—or when he asked about her. Not before. “Merrick,” Ambrose gasped, his breathing coming in little hiccoughs. “Andrus said you thought of me as a child.” He pulled back and brushed the tears from his cheeks, smearing gold flakes onto the backs of his hands. “Is that true?” Merrick managed a shaky smile. “Perhaps I once did. But now? With these shoulder muscles? And this scraggly beard? With everything you endured and survived? No, you’re no child, Ambrose. You’re a man.” Ambrose drew a deep breath, then sniffed. “And could you love this man, Merrick?” Merrick felt his heart flip. “I could,” he breathed. He took a chance and placed a light, gentle kiss on the lips before him. Although Ambrose didn’t return the gesture, Merrick was heartened when he did not pull back, and his voice came out raspy and low. “And could you forgive this man, Ambrose?” Ambrose sniffed again, studying Merrick’s face. He reached up and brushed at Merrick’s hair, then whispered, “I could.” 283