The Rules of War

Two weeks had passed since Casto had left the Valley and told Renaldo farewell and fuck yourself in a dream. Since then, there had been no contact. No dreams, no use of Renaldo’s fire, just a big, ominous nothing. At the moment, it seemed as if Casto was really gone. Going after him was not an option, what with the upcoming campaign in the Dark Forest and the fact that Casto could be anywhere by now. The storm Lys had called upon the mountains had washed away all traces the wolves could have followed, and not even Renaldo was desperate enough yet to dash around blindly in the meager hope of finding Casto by chance. All they could do was carry on with their tasks, hoping that the capricious blond would let off enough steam to consider returning.

“I really think you’re giving him more credit than he deserves. Casto may be devious and calculating, but not even he can plan so far ahead. Besides, he truly loves Renaldo. So whatever happened, it was bad enough to drive him away.”

Hulda raised an eyebrow meaningfully, while Canubis tried to avert his gaze. She had him finally cornered and wouldn’t let go until she knew all the details. The Wolf of War sighed. Perhaps it was a good idea to tell Hulda about what had happened during the Spring Ceremony. Until now, this had been a secret between him, Noemi, Renaldo, and Casto.

“I’m not sure if I’m able to explain it properly. A lot is rather blurry.”

“Just try. You know how understanding I can be.”

So there really was no escaping it. Canubis leaned back in his chair.

“As you may already have guessed, this year’s Spring Ceremony was a little different from the ones before. When you all started to sacrifice your blood and then honor the Mothers, we could feel the power practically drowning us. It was unbelievable, like the worst storm you’ve ever been in. And now we know what Noemi and Casto really are for—they transform all that raw energy we suck up from our followers and turn it into power. Without them, we would be consumed by it and probably die. Catch is, to transform the energy, Noemi and Casto must submit to us completely. Not only with their bodies, but also with their minds and souls.”

Hulda winced. There was no need for Canubis to speak on. Casto’s motive for leaving was absolutely clear. He hated nothing more than being forced. Even worse, during the Spring Ceremony in front of all the mercenaries. Not that any of them had noticed. They all had been too caught up in their own lust, but for Casto it must have been like a slap in the face. No wonder he had cut himself off completely.

“He’s going to need a lot of time to get over this shock. And since Lys is shielding him, there’s not much you can do. This is really bad indeed.”

Canubis huffed.

“I don’t get why he’s making such a fuss. I mean, yes, I know him, but still, Noemi took it more or less in stride.”

Hulda only stared at Canubis.

“Well, perhaps not in stride. There may have been a small—okay, okay, a big argument about my lack of restraint, but she understood. She has forgiven me.”

“First of all, you and Noemi have quite a mature relationship compared to that of Renaldo and Casto. Second, your wife is a very levelheaded person who had over a century to get used to all the surprises you can throw her way. Third, I’m convinced that Casto understands as well. He just doesn’t like it, and that’s the crux, as you well know.”

Canubis rose from his chair to pace the room.

“So what do I do now?”

Hulda shrugged.

“You don’t have much choice. You have an important campaign starting in two weeks. So you will see to it that your brother gets his act together until then, because we’re going to need him. And like all of us, you will pray to the Mothers that nothing happens to Casto while he cools his head and makes up his mind. He will return, of that I am sure. He just needs time.”

Knowing Hulda was right, Canubis showed her a weak smile.

“May the goddesses hear you, Hulda. If I think about all the things that could happen to Casto, I want to throw up.”

“Then don’t think! Concentrate on what you’re good at, namely killing people. Everything else has to sort itself out.”

his smithy, Sic gave the tiara Lady Sephrina had ordered the final polish. It was the last commissioned work he had to do before they went on the campaign in the Dark Forest, and Sic was happy to have finished it in time to send it to Ummana with all the other pieces he had made during the winter. When he put the tiara in a box to get it ready for transport, his gaze fell on the hunting knife he had made for Casto. Sighing, Sic picked up the shimmering weapon. He missed his friend more than he would have ever thought possible. Not knowing where he was and if he was fine was pure torture. That Casto had not tried to contact him only showed how deeply he was hurt.

“My precious! Please, don’t look so miserable. I’m sure Casto will be back sometime soon.”

Noran had entered the smithy without Sic noticing it, for he was so engrossed in his worries. He snuggled up against Noran’s bulky frame.

“How did you know I was worrying about Casto?”

Noran pulled Sic closer and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

“Because these days, you hardly smile, and when you have the look from just now, you’re thinking about your friend. Don’t worry, I have not acquired the sudden ability to read your thoughts.”

Sic rewarded Noran’s small joke with a weak smile.

“You know me too well, Master. I really miss Casto. I mean, he’s stubborn, irascible, and quite often plain insufferable, but he’s also the best friend I ever had. Despite being so disagreeable, he has never shown me anything but kindness. Not being able to help him when he’s in need is unbearable for me.”

Noran pulled Sic even closer, knowing this was all he could do for his beloved at the moment. As usual, Casto had managed to create a huge mess others had to take care of. Noran knew part of this vicious thought was grounded in the jealousy he felt toward the bond Sic and Casto shared. Nevertheless, he still believed there was a grain of truth in it. Casto never cared about the feelings of others or how his actions affected those who loved him. The only thing he ever protected fiercely was his own precious freedom. How Sic could love the king so deeply remained a mystery to Noran. Then again, Sic loved him as well, and if anything, he was worse than Casto. Desperate to take Sic’s mind off his worries, Noran started kissing him, grateful that their relationship was progressing so well.

Could you please cut it out?”

Laughing, Daran tried to fend off both Kalad’s and Aegid’s hands.

“We already did three rounds, and I really have to get going, as you well know.”

Kalad pouted.

“But we’re nowhere near satisfied yet, little thief. You have to take responsibility!”

“You always say that, and yet you never take responsibility for your actions.”

Sensing an opening, Aegid slung his arms around Daran before he could duck out of reach.

“We’re doing it now. We take responsibility for arousing you. Please, just one more round. We know you want it as well.”

“Of course I want it. But I do have a whole bunch of tasks to fulfill before we start the campaign, and I’m not sure whether Lord Canubis will be understanding if I tell him that I didn’t do his bidding because I was busy fucking around.”

Aegid huffed but let go of Daran.

“You’re probably right. Promise you’ll hurry and be back early.”

“You sound like a worried wife, Aegid.”

Daran grinned broadly. The image was somewhat alluring.

“That’s because he is one.”

Kalad stepped next to his desert brother.

“We both are. You must promise you’ll be home before nightfall.”

The two men made pleading faces, and Daran couldn’t help but kiss them, full of love.

“I promise. And once I’m back, I’ll let you have your way with me. Aren’t I generous?”

“Very much so. Go! Go before we push you down right now.”

All three men laughed heartily, reveling in their intimate, perfect happiness.