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  Still. Privacy was not to be taken for granted.

  “It’s filthy down here,” Sesserine whined, even as his cock thickened in Uther’s palm.

  Uther sighed. “Do you want us to stop?”

  “Well, no.”

  Fucking quietly in the dark was a sloppy, awkward business, but enjoyable despite that. It was a relief to feel something other than a sore back and damaged pride.

  “By the way, I’ve worked out what you’re trying to do,” Sesserine declared when they were done, a crafty gleam in his eye. “Being on your best behavior in front of the mutt – you plan to seduce him, don’t you?”

  “For god’s sake, keep your voice down! Our very lives depend on not arousing their suspicions.”

  Sullenly, Sesserine replied, “I’m not an idiot, Uther. I’ve no more desire to have my head struck from my shoulders than you do. Why didn’t you just tell me your plan?”

  “There wasn’t the opportunity.”

  “Really? Or was it just that you didn’t think I needed to know? That I’d be jealous, or get in the way? Uther, I’m your chancellor. I can help. After all, you couldn’t have begged for our dinner, could you? Not if you wanted to keep Oran’s interest. And yet we have dinner.”

  “True.”

  “Then how about this? Let me be a lightning rod for their hate. You charm the mutt and I’ll be as disagreeable as possible. I’ll make you appear all the better by contrast.”

  “Very well. Wait! Someone’s coming.”

  Sesserine rolled over and pretended to be asleep. Uther propped himself against the wall and assumed a brooding pose that he knew made him look comely.

  The barn door opened with a creak and Courage stepped inside. “Good evening, Uther.”

  “Good evening, my conqueror,” said Uther, concealing his surprise as Courage came to stand over him. “Are you well?”

  “I am. And yourself?”

  “I am too, as it happens. Oran saw to my needs.”

  Courage gestured to Sesserine, curled up tight and turned away from them – although Uther didn’t doubt he was listening to every word they said. “And your minion? Is he also in good health?”

  “Well enough. Well enough.”

  Tilting his head, Courage said, “He’s quite a sickly thing, isn’t he? I’ll admit, his presence at your side has always puzzled me. I never really understood what he was for. By all accounts, he’s a middling sorcerer. He’s physically feeble. I know he was a scholar at one point, but I doubt his academic knowledge exceeds your own. He’s cunning, but cunning men aren’t a rarity in this age of falsehoods and politics. And he’s low-born, so employing him doesn’t win you the favor of any powerful relatives. So why do you employ him? What does he contribute?”

  “What do your spies tell you?”

  At that, Courage’s golden skin took on a rosy hue. “Peasant gossip suggests that he provides… that is, he attends to your carnal needs. He’s your whore, to speak bluntly.”

  He was embarassed. Oh, how delicious.

  “Do you believe these gossiping peasants?”

  “Honestly? I find it hard to, looking at him. Surely you could have found someone more attractive to share your bed.”

  Uther folded his long legs, smirking. “To be honest, Courage, I never bothered. One of the side effects of becoming proficient in necromancy is that it dulls one’s desires for temptations of the flesh. Sesserine’s company is more a habit than anything else.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that anyone would be willing to make such sacrifices for power,” said Courage haughtily. Then, after a moment’s silence and a quick glance at Uther’s legs, he added, “Do you never feel true arousal, then?”

  Hah! And another falls into the net.

  “Only every so often. And only for very special people,” Uther purred.

  Courage cleared his throat and straightened up abruptly. “The reason I came in was to tell you that I have considered the matter at length, and have decided that once you have surrendered the gem, you will be offered a chance to repent your sins before the emperor. Should he consider your repentance sincere, you will be allowed to live out the rest of your days in a fortified prison, allowing the emperor to make use of your powers whenever he sees fit.”

  Without giving Uther a chance to respond, he departed.

  “You shameless tart,” Sesserine snickered, the moment he was gone.

  Preening, Uther reached for him again.

  0

  The next day, their merry band reached the edge of the Great Northern Forest.

  It was the wildest and most secretive region of the country. The emperor’s enemies and those accused of practicing prohibited magic often fled this way and, as a result of the sorcery the latter had carelessly littered over the landscape, many of its trees grew in odd shapes and to unnatural heights.

  The horses wouldn’t enter.

  “We proceed on foot,” said Courage, dismounting.

  It was a sunny morning, but the close press of the trees made it seem as though they were nearing close of day. Oran had been uncharacteristically silent all day, throwing the prisoners their breakfast of dried bread without comment. He stalked ahead with his shoulders hunched and his big head lowered, and Uther thought that his hair was shaggier than usual. Every now and then, he would start, stare into the trees, and growl quietly before proceeding.

  “You are wise to be wary, Mister Clawberry,” Uther told him. “These woods are dangerous; abundant with wild beasts, trolls, traitors, and things fouler still.”

  Oran’s gaze snapped in his direction, pupils wide. It looked, for a moment, as though he didn’t recognize him.

  Then he shook himself and muttered, “None fouler than you, Uther. Tell your minion that if he doesn’t stop dragging his heels, I’ll tie him up and carry him.”

  ‘Let me be a lightning rod for their hate’, Sesserine had said.

  Uther chuckled. “I fear you overestimate my ability to coerce any amount of aptitude or enthusiasm from Sesserine. How can I put this politely? He lacks character.”

  To slander his own lover and chancellor left a bitter taste in his mouth. Still, it was hardly the first time he’d lied to advance his plans. He swallowed the bitterness down.

  Oran snuck a glance at his forearms.

  Like what you see, eh, mutt?

  Under the circumstances, dressing to impress was a challenge. The best Uther had been able to do was tie back his hair and roll up his sleeves. But perhaps a certain degree of rugged dishevelment would appeal to a werewolf. And Uther’s forearms were, he knew, impressive. Spending years dragging corpses up the stairs to his necromancy chamber at the top of his tower had had some benefits besides bolstering his military might.

  “Your minion lacks a spine,” Oran retorted. “Unlike most of my kind, I do feel some sympathy for those whom Nature has made feeble – to feel otherwise would be hypocrisy, in view of my own impairment. But I cannot help but detest those who don’t make an effort. Weak men. Whining men.”

  “The world has too many of them,” Uther agreed.

  A scream split the air.

  Uther resisted the urge to curse with frustration as Oran’s attention was diverted to where Sesserine was hopping from foot to foot, flailing madly.

  “A s-snake,” he babbled. “There was a snake, a huge snake! I think it bit me! Uther, Uther, help!”

  “What’s going on?” called Courage from the front.

  “Nothing to bother yourself with, sir,” Oran said, striding towards Sesserine.

  Trembling, Sesserine sat down on a rock and pulled off his left shoe. Two large red puncture marks were visible just above his ankle, which Oran took hold of and hoisted up for closer inspection.

  “What color was the snake?” he demanded.

  “Um – red? Bright red, with a black stripe down its back.”

  Oran nodded. “A rose adder, then. Not poisonous enough to kill you – only to make you even more of a hindrance to our progress th
an you already are. Hold still.”

  The werewolf clamped his mouth around Sesserine’s thin lower leg and sucked, while Sesserine made a face.

  “Eurgh. Mutt, I don’t want your germs in my wound.”

  Oran drew back and spat out a mouthful of blood and venom. “Would you rather lose a limb, worm? And by the way, how on earth did it manage to bite through your boot leather?”

  “I don’t have boots,” Sesserine said in a sulky voice, and waved a bloodied slipper at him.

  Goggling, Oran said, “You’ve been marching in that? For days? It’s made of silk and lace!”

  “Leather makes my feet sweat.”

  “Oh, for…”

  Standing, Oran shouted, “Courage! We need boots for this brainless worm.”

  Boots were procured, and at length Sesserine surrounded his silk slippers, with a degree of reluctance that baffled Uther. After days of walking, they were soiled beyond any hope of salvation and torn in several places.

  “You gave me those,” Sesserine reminded Uther in a whisper, as he folded them, tucked them into his pocket, and strapped up the laces on his new boots. “Remember? We successfully brought that bear back to life, and you tested it out by sending it after one of the emperor’s richest generals. It chased him for a whole day. Eventually, he surrendered all his luggage, underwear and footwear included, in exchange for not being devoured. Hah! Still makes me laugh.”

  “I’d forgotten. Well, I hope they were worth making a spectacle of yourself.”

  Sesserine shrugged. “A spectacle? Maybe. But I’ve cost them time. Courage wanted to cross the falls by evening. Now he’ll have to wait until tomorrow, unless he wants to cross in the dark, which he won’t, because he’s not that reckless. So you’ll have an extra night to practice your seduction.”

  “Hmph. Cunning. Well done.”

  Ordinarily, Uther would have kissed him or rubbed his shoulder, but there were too many eyes on them.

  As they finally got moving again, Uther dropped a few words in Oran’s ear. “Once again, I must apologise for my subordinate’s behavior. Thank you for taking care of him, Mister Clawberry. It was honorable of you.”

  Oran gave him a strange look. Uther withdrew with a rakish smile, satisfied that his plans were progressing apace.

  0

  Sesserine’s prediction proved correct. They didn’t reach the falls until dark, and Courage announced that they would only risk crossing in the morning.

  It started to rain just as the cooking fires were being lit, so they set up several tents, enchanted to remain dry. The smallest of these was afforded to Uther and Sesserine, and placed right at the edge of the cliff overlooking the falls, so that they would have nowhere to run.

  Their meals were still meager – they were allowed just enough to keep them up and marching – but Uther didn’t mind. He found that the shadow of hunger in his belly lent an edge to his other appetites, and he’d been contemplating burying himself in Sesserine from the moment they’d made camp.

  Upon reflection, he decided to restrain himself. The look in Oran’s eye earlier still lingered in his memory. If the werewolf was to succumb to temptation tonight, Uther wanted to be ready. Fucking Sesserine generally left him without the energy for a second round. Besides, Sesserine clearly wasn’t up to it. The march had exhausted him and he fell asleep as soon as he was horizontal. So Uther lay awake, alone, bored, staring up at the ceiling of their tent and listening to the rain beat down upon it.

  At around midnight, when the rain had abated and there was nothing but dead silence from the rest of the camp, Uther heard a rustling sound.

  Someone’s entered the tent.

  Aware that werewolves had excellent night vision, he suppressed a smirk, and pretended to be asleep.

  After all, it wouldn’t do for Oran to know that Uther had been waiting for him. Better the fool believe that Uther was as surprised to see him as he was pleased; that their dalliance was nothing more than a series of spontaneous flirtations culminating in an unplanned and daring tryst, rather than a carefully choreographed seduction.

  And tomorrow, when Oran had satisfied his craving, he would be overcome with guilt – but too proud to beg Uther not to disclose what had happened to Courage.

  How surprised Oran would be when Uther kept their dirty secret without being asked. How confused at the thought that perhaps he had misjudged the dark lord. And he would remember Uther’s lips, Uther’s strong arms, and he would once again start peeking at him from out the corner of his eye, until one night…

  I’ll have your heart in my clutches long before we reach the gem, you hopelessly noble idiot.

  Uther was no fool. He knew he’d never be able to weaponise Oran against Courage. Werewolves were loyal above all else. But he felt confident that Oran would, with some coaxing, be willing to help engineer his and Sesserine’s escape.

  What’s taking him so long?

  Uther opened one eyelid a fraction.

  His night vision was better than any ordinary man’s and he expected to be able to make out Oran’s broad shoulders looming over him. He could certainly smell him, the werewolf’s natural scent made ever more pungent by the rain.

  A moan. Soft, hastily stifled. A shuffling of cloth in the darkness.

  Both of Uther’s eyes popped open.

  “I find you revolting,” Oran was whispering.

  “Liar,” came Sesserine’s voice.

  Another moan, louder this time, and Sesserine’s voice came again: “Quiet, mutt. Do you want your companions to barge in on us?”

  Frozen, Uther listened to their every motion and murmur, his fists balled so tight they shook.

  “You foul, profane…ooh!” Oran moaned.

  You’re insulting him? Now? With his hand around your cock? You vile, ungrateful bastard.

  Uther’s teeth ground together.

  Although it felt as though he lay there for an eternity, in his rational mind he knew it was only ten minutes or so before Oran stood up and departed without another word.

  Uther continued to listen as Sesserine’s breathing returned to normal and wondered which of them would speak first.

  Neither of them did.

  Eventually, Sesserine began to snore, while Uther lay awake all night.

  0

  By the time the sun had dawned the following morning, Uther had convinced himself that everything had worked out to his advantage.

  That the mutt had chosen Sesserine as the target of his lust was surprising, but not disastrous. Really. It wasn’t as though Uther had been looking forward to sleeping with him. And, strategically, it didn’t matter. The plan to use Oran to their advantage could proceed apace.

  For his part, Sesserine didn’t mention the incident at all.

  “Are you alright?” Uther grunted as they ate their breakfast of gruel.

  Sesserine hummed and said, “Quite well. Quite well.”

  The rope bridge over the falls had been damaged by the rain. Courage and some of his men spent the day repairing it, while the rest of them huddled around cooking fires and shivered.

  Oran didn’t return to their tent that night.

  0

  The next day, Courage judged the reinforced bridge safe to cross. Uther was made to go first, with Courage himself following close behind.

  “This is a worthy piece of engineering! Well done, Courage,” Uther commented.

  “Thank you,” said Courage, in a distracted voice.

  He was following closer behind Uther than was necessary, even if he was expecting the dark lord to make a run for it the moment they reached the other side. What was more, Uther noted that his fingers gripped the railing so hard they were bone-white.

  “Are you afraid of heights, by any chance?”

  Courage’s reply was lost beneath the roar of the falls.

  Smirking, Uther drew upon what meagre traces of his powers remained to him, and subtly strengthened the gentle breeze that had been blowing his hair into his eyes. The
rope bridge rocked and swayed, and Courage made a soft, unmanly sound. Uther’s smirk became devilish as the other man stepped even closer, bringing their bodies into contact. Beneath his damp clothes, he could feel every muscle in Courage’s chest, and every beat of his heart.

  “Watch your step,” Uther said, mildly. “Long way down.”

  When they reached the other side, Courage recovered himself quickly and they resumed their march. For the next mile, Uther kept himself entertained with the memory of Courage’s cock pressed against his arse.

  0

  Oran returned the following night.

  Good, Uther told himself, gritting his teeth.

  And the night after that.

  Excellent, Uther told himself, clawing the ground as he tried to ignore the mutt’s grunts of pleasure and Sesserine’s moans.

  The following day, when they were finally within sight of the snow-capped mountains, Sesserine snuck up to him and whispered, “I have news.”

  Scanning their surroundings to ensure they weren’t overheard, Uther inclined an ear.

  “Oran accidentally let me in on the exact spells Courage used to mute your powers.”

  They were tricky ones, all of them. Uther could undo them, but it would take time.

  “You’ve done well,” he said, stiffly.

  Sesserine beamed. “Just wait! I’ll do even better.”

  Then he pretended to trip over an upraised root and wailed until Oran came over and helped him to his feet.

  When they arrived at the mountain, Uther led them to the hidden stairs that he himself had carved into the rock face many years ago. Steep and irregular, they extended as far up as the eye could see, disappearing into low-hanging cloud.

  “Oh, splendid,” Courage sighed.

  Once again, he kept close to Uther as they ascended.

  Halfway up, one of Courage’s men misstepped and tumbled down one hundred stairs. His ankle broken, he needed two friends to help him back to his horse.

  “Ride back to the others and tell them to send word to the emperor that we nearly have the gem,” Courage said to the three of them. “Travel safely, my friends.”