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Moments later, salve was being massaged onto the spot he’d motioned to. Lachland gritted when her hands pushed into the sore spot. “Are ye trying to cripple me?” he complained.
“It will feel better on the morrow. Today, remain abed.”
He started to argue but groaned instead when the older woman seemed to put all her weight into the next rub.
A young man, who helped in the kitchen was called over to help wrap him around the waist and finally he was left to sleep.
He let out a breath as warmth from whatever herbs Alpena had used seeped into his body, the balm seeming to grow hotter all the while soothing.
Sounds of activity outside woke Lachland. He’d awakened to eat last meal the night before, then promptly fallen into a deep slumber. Despite the morning’s activities, he’d remained in his small room, enjoying the fact he could sleep without pain for the first time in days.
“The others arrive from Welland.” Tate stood at the doorway.
At the comment, Lachland rolled over and sat up. The pain in his side returned, a dull throb. “I know them all and have no doubt we will beat them easily.”
Tate gave a one shoulder shrug. The good-natured warrior always gave the impression of being without a care. However, in battle, he transformed into an unrestrainable beast.
“I hear the archers Torac and Caelan are unbeatable.”
As soon as Tate said the second name, a picture formed in Lachland’s mind. The lithe archer bent at the waist, hands pulling his buttocks apart, eager for him.
“No one is unbeatable.”
He stood and dressed with care.
The newly arrived guards were assigned a space to put their belongings and most made their way to the tables, to either eat or rest.
Lachland was glad to see the men he’d served with at either the other camp or the keep, and he spoke to several. Most of the guard goaded one another about the upcoming competition, which made for expectation of a good event.
He’d not noticed Caelan, perhaps because he didn’t search for him. It was best to keep any kind of assignation with another man secret. Besides, he was sure Caelan held nothing but contempt for him.
It mattered not that he’d often thought about their interlude and craved for it to happen again. It had been one time, but it had been one of the most satisfying experiences of his life.
Needing to prove himself to the others, he’d fucked women, many women. Often he and other guards paid whores to attend to their needs, the women servicing more than one of them. Admittedly, he’d enjoyed such interludes. However, unlike time with the women, the time with Caelan was one he’d not been able to leave behind.
When he’d been with others, often the archer would come to mind, and damn him, the release was more satisfying when he pictured Caelan bent at the waist taking all of him.
As if conjured by his thoughts, the lithe archer walked to the doorway from outside, the light behind him outlining his body. With smooth graceful strides, he walked into the guardhouse, hesitating for a moment to sweep his blond hair away from his angelic face.
Caelan didn’t study the room, instead he held a conversation with another man who walked beside him. When the man said something, Caelan laughed, the sound traveling over the space.
The archers’ leader, Struan walked to greet the duo, obviously pleased to see them.
When Caelan’s lips curved, Lachland could not look away. He’d kissed those lips, had covered them with his own. Plump and pink, inviting a man like him to taste, to linger.
Just then Caelan turned to look in his direction, his blue gaze meeting Lachland’s for only a second. Instantly, the younger man’s expression hardened. A slight curl to his upper lip showing his displeasure at seeing him. If looks could kill, Lachland would be dead.
It was but an instant, and yet it was enough that Lachland lost his breath and his cock twitched in recognition.
He looked to the men to his left and right wondering if anyone witnessed the exchange. By the continuing conversation no one did. When he looked back to Caelan, the archer had assumed a relaxed expression, continuing in his conversation with the other archers.
“How long are they going to stay?” Lachland asked the man to his right.
The warrior looked up and around, shrugging. “Hopefully no longer than a sennight. It will be quite crowded in here.”
A sennight. He would have to avoid Caelan for seven days. It should be easy as they competed at very different events.
The competition would be the next day. Lachland, along with two others would be competing against men from the keep. One last opportunity to practice.
