I was cold, hungry, had a very sore nose, and felt completely and utterly depressed of spirits. I swung up onto Xavier and said wearily, “Shall we go? I do not know the way to an inn. I will keep in your company until we reach one, and then we can part ways. My presence is clearly not to your liking.”
He stood there with his mouth hanging open, so unlike his usual royal appearance that I snapped, “Stop playing the dullard and mount your horse, Aleksey.”
He shut his mouth and swung up into his saddle with great difficulty. I spared him not one jot of sympathy. Before he urged his horse to move, however, he turned to me and said flatly, as if merely confirming the surprising price of a loaf of bread, “Not to my liking?”
I was thinking of other things and did not catch his meaning, so I grunted and began to walk Xavier.
He repeated, “Not to my liking?” and added this time, “I kissed you because I donotlike you? But I am the one battered to the ground, insulted, and—” He stopped abruptly and glanced back over his shoulder at the spot where we had lain. He appeared to be processing something.
I did not like the train of his thoughts, which I fancied I could hear. He may have misread my reaction to the kiss but not my essential nature. What man denies his unnatural attraction to other men by taking one to the ground and attempting topenetratehim? These were not the actions of a man disgusted by the act itself, merely, perhaps, its timing… its intent….
My own inconsistency infuriated me.
Aleksey was not stupid. The opposite, in fact, as his quick grasp of Powponi and very effective use of it proved. He would very easily make the connection between my actions on the ground and my desires.
Perhaps he was now attempting to work out why his kiss had been received so.
I dared not turn to him and observe his expression.
Perhaps he was wishing he’d continued with his plan for the knife.
I might let him sink it deep this time. I was feeling that wretched.
So, lost to our own thoughts, we continued until I noticed it was getting dark. I looked around at the empty land. “Where is this inn?”
He came out of his reverie and looked around too. “How should I know?”
I frowned. “I thought you were the master spy. I thought you knew this country!”
“I was eight! I hardly frequented inns! I have no idea where we are.” I could hear that he was adding some curses at me in his head. As long as he kept them to himself, we would get along famously. My days of being meek and mild with his highness were over.
“We will have to make camp for the night.”
“I’m not—” Whatever he had been about to tell me was lost when he suddenly hissed, “Light, look, over there.”
He was right. I could see a telltale flicker of a fire against the dark of the tree line. We dismounted silently. I held a hand out to his chest. “Stay here. I will go see who they are.”
He pushed past my outstretched hand, dropping his reins to the ground. I could not do much but catch them and hold the horses while he went forward on his own. I was only glad to be away from him, so I watched, entirely unconcerned, as he stomped away. This disdain for his safety lasted for about ten seconds, of course, until I pulled the horses after me and followed him, cursing silently, into the light.
THEYWEREmerchants from France, traveling through Saxefalia on the way to countries farther east. We were welcomed heartily, and they even shared some food with us, desperate as they were for news about the war. They had been stopped at the border and searched and had been told various roads not to follow, but other than that, they were entirely ignorant of the events transpiring around them. By dint of careful questioning, we learned more from them than they did from us. They even produced a rough map and showed us where we were. I was able to repay their kindness and generosity when they discovered I was a doctor, for one of them had a wound upon his leg. When I agreed to examine it, I discovered that he had packed it in horse dung, which he had been told was an effective remedy if the horse passed his shit during a full moon. We had seen a full moon some days before, so he had duly collected the dung and wrapped his leg in it. Strange to tell, he now had a large abscess and was in considerable pain.
I had them build up the fire and boil some water. They were puzzled by my request, but my explanation that my hands were dirty only confused them more. I took the opportunity to dip my knife into the water too. It did not seem odd to me that if sickness came from dirt, I should also clean my instruments. When the water had cooled a little, I washed his leg. The abscess was horrible. I had quite an audience by this time. They all wanted to know what remedies I was going to apply. When I told them, there was a universal intake of breath. They were horrified that I was planning to open the wound and drain the pus. They all believed pus to be the great healer and that to waste it upon the ground was like wasting wine. One suggested I preserve it in a jar to be rubbed upon other wounds that did not yet have pus. Another offered to dig for earthworms and claimed they had been proved to be efficacious when mashed and applied to a wound. A third muttered that prayer alone could help, and fortunately he took himself off to do just that and left me alone to prepare.
When I was ready, I told one of the man’s friends to hold him steady, but he refused, saying he would not take part in devil’s work. I heard a sigh, and Aleksey came into the light and sat behind the man, holding him securely. I glanced at him to thank him, but he would not catch my eye.
We had not been this close since the incident on the ground, and that moment came back forcibly to me now as I went about helping my patient. I had lain on men before, of course, for far longer and in more intimate circumstances, but I could not recall a single instance where I had wanted what lay beneath me as much as I wanted Aleksey. What would he have done if I’d not been vicious? Not angry and hurt. What would he do now if I moved my hand a little to where his lay upon my patient’s shoulders and touched him? Perhaps he would raise his downcast eyes to mine and all would be understood and forgiven.
I began to slide my hand closer.
The abscess burst to the accompaniment of cursing from both Aleksey and the young merchant, and the moment was lost.
I rose, wiping my knife. I did not acknowledge Aleksey’s help in any way.
I just wanted to be away from him and have some time to think.
It seemed incredible, but I had finallykissedAleksey. It didn’t matter how many times I said it to myself; it didn’t become more believable. The memory of his tongue upon mine was so vivid I fancied I could again feel the slight push of hesitant seeking turning to greedy joy. I had not felt them at the time, but now I could recall his hands upon my body, and where he had touched me scorched me anew. All within me smoldered; pent up need threatened to erupt. My dreams betrayed my desires. I woke in a very obvious state, despite the cold, and had to wander well away from the camp for some time before I was decent enough to meet my fellow travelers for breakfast.
CHAPTER 18
