Page 76 of Something Human

“I won’t miss it,” he said to Adares. “The bull fight. I think … I’m done with that.”

He had put a hand on Adares’s shoulder to steady himself, and now he turned and looked into Adares’s eyes and thought, I’m done with a lot of other things, too.

He had said yes to going to Tios, which meant the end of the life he had known, exile from his people, disgrace. He didn’t know how it would feel, exactly. He believed it would be worth it, but that didn’t mean it would be easy.

“Will you let me handle this part?” said Adares.

“What part?”

“Just—don’t go dramatically kissing me in front of everyone or anything, will you?”

“Is that the sort of thing I would do?” It was just what he had been contemplating, actually, but he still wasn’t sure what Adares was talking about.

The rest of their party was dismounting and crowding around, and Rus could already hear Suthus saying, “Once, only once before have I seen a throw like that—it was twenty years ago … ”

He felt beneath his fingers the pin that fastened Adares’s cloak, which had been hidden by the fold of the fabric before. He looked down at it. It was the kilt pin with the enamelled bird that he had offered Adares the night before.

“I went down into that valley and searched for it early this morning,” Adares said, seeing where Rus was looking. “Trust me?”

“Of course,” said Rus.

EPILOGUE

THE BATTLEFIELD WAS covered in wildflowers. They had not yet been blooming when Adares rode north, so this was his first time seeing them. They carpeted the valley where the Luth and the Phemians had fought last fall, red and white and purple and yellow against the green of the grass, tossing and winking in the breeze.

“How beautiful,” said Rus. “Was it like that before?”

“No,” said Adares. “Some women from the city scattered seeds over the whole area, as a memorial.”

“Ah,” said Rus. “They did well.”

He rode beside Adares, ahead of the rest of their party, as they came out of the forest eaves in the late afternoon. His hair was loose, stirred by the breeze that swept through the valley. He sat with one leg bent casually over the front of his saddle, in that way that he did, barefoot and relaxed.

They would reach Tios before dark; they could see its yellow walls in the distance now, standing high on its hill over the still-hidden sea. It had taken them a little more than two weeks to ride down from the Luth lands, their progress slow at first out of consideration for Kagieros and Glaukos, still recovering from their encounter with the goatweed.

They paused on the edge of the valley, waiting for the others to catch up. Adares looked at Rus. He was still feeling his way in his new role, Adares could tell, still trying to work out how to act, even how to think of himself, as Adares’s acknowledged lover. His instinct for caution and denial seemed to be warring with a new desire to be openly affectionate, sometimes boldly, sometimes with an almost girlish submissiveness that was totally different from the way he was in bed. Perhaps he was trying out different things to see what suited him best, but Adares rather hoped that the duality would be permanent. It didn’t matter, though; he had got Rus, and felt it was within his power to keep him, and that was the main thing.

In the end, it had not be difficult. He had spoken to Suthus when they arrived back at the headman’s village after their eventful trip to view the wild cattle. The mood of the party had been slightly tense on the way back, the Phemians shaken by the close call, the Luth wanting to make light of it and congratulate Rus on his spectacular kill, but dampened by fierce looks from Suthus, who was obviously worried about the incident affecting the new alliance. They were a smaller party on the return journey because some of the kahar had stayed behind to retrieve and butcher the body of the bull. They said it would be impious to let the meat go to waste.

Standing outside the kahar hall with Rus and Suthus, Adares explained, “We have been discussing how I can repay Rusanarath for saving my life today. Of course he refuses to accept that any reward is necessary—and of course I refuse to accept that.”

“Naturally.” Suthus smiled.

“Would you consider letting him leave your service and come to Tios? He would be very welcome, and we could put his skills to good use.”

Suthus was taken aback. “Is that something that he—” He looked at Rus, as if only just remembering that he was there and could speak for himself. “Is that something that you want?”

“It is.” Rus sounded hesitant and sure of himself at the same time—a nicely judged effect that was probably just the way he really felt. “I have heard so many things about the city and its inhabitants, and I think … that I would like it there. But only if you can spare me.”

“I imagine I could spare you for a month or more, to make a visit. But … that is not what you are speaking of, is it?” He glanced between Rus and Adares, searchingly. “You have something in mind, I think, lord archon. Perhaps I do not need to know what it is, but I would like to.”

“I do have something in mind,” said Adares quietly. He slipped his hand into Rus’s, lacing their fingers together, a small, discreet gesture.

Suthus did not miss it. His eyes widened.

Adares could feel Rus bracing himself for disgust and horror, for Suthus to say something like, If that is what he is, of course I can spare him.

But what Suthus said was, “Go with my blessing, Rusanarath.”