Bedknobs and Beanstalks, page 4
Dalmazio did not know how much time passed before the prince got out of bed and lit a lamp—an hour, maybe more. He pressed his eye to the peephole in the wall, instantly alert. A noise at the window drew his attention, and Dalmazio feared he might be losing his mind altogether, because what he saw could not possibly be happening. A young man with glowing golden wings had flown through the window as effortlessly as a bird and landed gracefully before the young prince.
"I thought you weren't coming,” Prince Kieran said.
"The king demanded the prototype for the new threshing machine, and my father and I worked long into the evening to finish it. I had to wait for Papa to go to sleep before I could sneak out."
The young man stepped into the pale pool of light, and Dalmazio had to clap his hand over his mouth to keep from gasping out loud. He recognized Sereth, the son of Thackeray, Celestrina's Master Inventor. The young man served as an apprentice in his father's workshop, and Dalmazio had met him more than once when he'd been summoned to court.
Sereth was a strapping lad of twenty with broad shoulders, a muscled chest, and the strong, sensitive hands of a skilled craftsman. Dalmazio had often admired his silky dark hair that hung to his shoulders, his wide green eyes, and his soft, pretty mouth. As the heir apparent to his father's much sought-after position on the royal staff, Sereth was one of the land's most eligible young bachelors, second only to Prince Kieran himself.
"You have no idea how it feels when I'm waiting for you.” Prince Kieran's voice was strained with emotion.
"Do you think I'm not just as desperate with longing?” Sereth touched the prince's face tenderly. “If you need a demonstration of my desire, then pray let me show you."
He unbuckled the harness that strapped the strange wings to his body and let them slide to the floor. The instant they touched the marble, they transformed from luminous living things to mere pieces of carved wood. Dalmazio stared, shocked to discover that the young man's family must dabble in sorcery as well as science.
Sereth took the prince in his arms, his hands moving over the prince's body, stroking up his arms, across his back, through his hair. “My love,” he said in a voice rough with need.
The prince pressed his face against Sereth's neck, breathing in deeply, as if trying to memorize the scent of his skin. “My sweet.” He lifted his chin in invitation, and Sereth kissed him deeply, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Their soft sighs and murmurs of pleasure drifted over to Dalmazio's nook, and he could almost imagine he was the one being kissed so sweetly. An insistent heat began to burn low in his belly.
"Please,” Sereth said urgently, slipping his fingers beneath the prince's pajamas.
The prince reached for Sereth's shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, stroking bare skin as it was revealed. Sereth clearly grew impatient with such teasing and stripped off the rest of his clothes. He stood naked before the prince. His cock was swollen with need and wet at the tip, jutting out from his body.
"Do you doubt how much I want you?"
Kieran laid a hand against Sereth's cheek and kissed him. “I have never doubted you."
Heat flashed in Sereth's eyes, and he was on the prince at once, the royal pajamas rending in his large hands, exposing all that flawless skin that Dalmazio had been so eager to see.
"Touch me,” the prince demanded. “Take me."
Sereth's hands seemed to be everywhere at once, a blur of pleasure. He licked at the curve of the prince's elegant neck, tasting, biting, leaving his mark on royal skin. Dalmazio's cock surged to instant hardness, and he had to shove his hand into his mouth to keep from moaning along with the prince.
The young man laid a greedy kiss on the prince's lips before falling to his knees. He stroked the prince's belly with light touches, bent his head and pressed a reverent kiss to the prince's cock.
Kieran drew in a sharp breath and sank his fingers into Sereth's long, thick hair. “Please."
To hear the heir to the throne beg in such a pretty, broken voice was almost more than Dalmazio could bear, and he pressed the heel of his hand hard against his aching cock.
"I live only to please you,” Sereth said, running his palm up the prince's bare thigh.
He went down eagerly, stretching his lips around the prince's cock, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat. Kieran threw his head back with a low moan. Dalmazio could not get his hand into his own pants quickly enough.
The soft, wet sounds of sucking filled the room. The prince murmured, “Sereth, Sereth,” threading his fingers through the boy's hair. This spurred Sereth on, and he went at the prince even more fervently. Kieran's voice was rough with passion when he cried out his release.
Sereth caressed Kieran's hips through the last tremors of his orgasm. “So beautiful,” he whispered.
Prince Kieran grappled at Sereth's shoulders, urging him to his feet. Their bodies tangled together as they shared heated kisses. Sereth walked Kieran backwards until they fell laughing onto the bed.
They kissed and touched each other urgently, then the prince pulled a small vial from his bedside drawer and pressed it into Sereth's hand. He poured out some liquid, and his hand disappeared between the prince's legs. The room echoed with the prince's soft moaning and his ragged breath. At last, Sereth drew his hand away and gently turned the prince onto his belly.
Dalmazio was no stranger to the ways of pleasure, but he was not prepared for the raw jolt of lust that shot through him at the sight of Sereth slicking his erection, moving between the prince's open thighs, and entering him. Prince Kieran moaned and rubbed himself against the sheets. Sereth scattered kisses across Kieran's shoulders and began to move inside him. Dalmazio's grip on his own erection tightened as he watched Sereth's thick cock pumping between firm cheeks.
It felt like forever passed as Dalmazio stared rapt, stroking himself, the only sounds in the room the creaking of the bed, the rough intake of breath, and the two men's mingled cries of pleasure. The prince came first, then Sereth, and finally Dalmazio, who had to bury his face in the crook of his arm to keep from giving himself away. Afterward, the prince curled up against Sereth, an arm flung possessively across his waist. When Sereth started to slip from his embrace, he held on with desperate strength.
"Don't go. Not yet."
Sereth dropped a kiss to Prince Kieran's nose. “Don't worry. I'll be right back."
He crossed the room to where his clothes lay scattered on the floor and pulled something from the pocket of his pants that glittered in the light. He returned to bed, and Dalmazio could see what he had: two gold rings. He slipped one onto the prince's finger and the other onto his own.
Sereth held up his hand to admire it. “I wish we never had to take them off."
"Me too.” Sorrow flashed across Prince Kieran's face. “But the time will come when we won't have to pretend anymore, when we can live together as married people should."
Sereth lowered his eyes and didn't answer.
"Hey.” Prince Kieran tilted his chin with his fingers. “Don't you believe me?"
"I believe it's what you want. But your father...he'll never change his mind."
"Perhaps not,” the prince conceded. “But my father isn't going to live forever. When I become king, the first thing I'll do is change that stupid, antiquated law."
"Just don't do anything you'll regret to make that day come sooner,” Sereth said sternly.
The prince gave him a reassuring kiss. “I'm not going to kill my father. I know how to bide my time."
"At least we'll still have our nights together,” Sereth said, with a seductive smile.
They made love again. And again. And yet again. Just before the first light broke on the horizon, Sereth emerged from bed. He retrieved his clothes and donned the wooden wings. Kieran walked him to the window; a trail remained on the floor, straw and sawdust, not from any barn, but from the Master Inventor's workshop.
"My sweet prince,” Sereth whispered.
"My beloved husband."
Prince Kieran reluctantly removed the ring from his finger and returned it to Sereth for safekeeping. He took Sereth's face between his hands and gave him a fierce, lingering kiss. The wings sprang to life, again shimmering and golden, quivering with strength, and Sereth climbed onto the window sill.
Dalmazio watched as Sereth flew away, and at last he understood everything. There was indeed magic at work here, the most ancient and powerful magic of all: love.
He had to wait until Prince Kieran had dressed and gone before he could let himself out of his hiding place. The king had commanded that he report his findings at once, and a prudent man never kept King Ludovico waiting. He hurried to his majesty's study.
"Yes, yes, tell me all that you have seen,” the king demanded.
"It is just as you have guessed, your majesty. There is trickery at work here."
"Indeed. Pray tell me the details."
"Last night, your son dismissed his servants and went to bed, where he stayed most of the night. Just before dawn broke he rose again, rumpled the bedcovers, pinched his neck with his own fingers to leave behind a red mark, and then...” He hesitated as a sign of respect for the king's feelings. “Took care of his needs, so to speak, leaving behind evidence that would lead you to believe that someone else had been with him."
"What a devious son I've raised!” King Ludovico said with more than a hint of pride. “How much I'll enjoy seeing the look on his face when I inform him that I've uncovered the truth of his duplicity."
"If your majesty thinks that is the best way to proceed,” Dalmazio said with obvious hesitation.
The king frowned. “You have another idea?"
Dalmazio bowed low to the floor. “If it pleases your grace to hear it."
"It does."
"Perhaps the best comeuppance is simply to do nothing. Let your son continue his elaborate, futile efforts to deceive you, all the while you will be laughing to yourself at his expense."
King Ludovico smiled. “Indeed, Dalmazio. Your approach has a certain appeal to it."
Dalmazio bowed again. “I am pleased your grace thinks so."
The king touched his finger to his lips. “Not a word then. Let my son continue his nighttime shenanigans, and we will enjoy the joke for as long as we can."
"As you wish, your majesty."
"Good work, Dalmazio."
Dalmazio bowed one last time and took his leave.
With any luck, the king would never discover the truth. Dalmazio would certainly do everything in his power to see that he didn't. He might be a loyal and trusted minion, but he was by no means a stupid one. As Prince Kieran had said, Ludovico would not live forever. Why make an enemy of a future king to win the favor of one who would soon enough be so much dust?
Besides, there was a handsome young lieutenant in the royal guard Dalmazio rather fancied, whom he'd long thought would make someone a fine husband. It might as well be him.
Long live King Kieran! Dalmazio thought with a smile.
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Cry Wolf
by Mercy Loomis
"See any wolves today, Wil?"
Wil gritted his teeth and prodded the last of the sheep into the pen, not bothering to look up as he fastened the gate shut. He already knew the look of taunting scorn he would see on John Miller's face.
"Ach, leave off the lad,” said Andrew Wainwright, who spoke as if his extra five years over Wil's twenty were a lifetime. “He's not come crying down the hill for nearly a week."
The two men laughed. Wil's hands clenched hard around his stout crook, but he refused to rise to the bait. Without acknowledging his hecklers, he stalked away from the sheepfold toward his home.
A light patter of footsteps behind him made Wil bite back a groan. Emma Miller caught up with him halfway down the street.
"Don't you mind John, that fathead,” she told him, hovering at his side with knitted brows.
"I never pay your brother much mind.” Wil fought to keep his voice even, trying not to snap at her. Emma was one of his best friends, but in the last couple of years she'd developed an aggravating habit of dogging his heels when he was in the village. The last thing he wanted to do was to show up at home with a girl—any girl—in tow.
Emma lowered her voice, leaning in toward him as they walked. Her hand brushed his, but he pretended not to notice. “Did the wolf come today?"
Wil looked around before daring to answer. He wouldn't have told any of the lads, but Emma could be trusted to keep her mouth shut. “Yes."
She sucked in a startled breath. “It's not natural, Wil. I'm worried for you."
He glanced at her, wondering if she was making a play at him, but her clear brown eyes appeared solemn and refreshingly free from artifice. He gave her a smile, albeit a more tight-lipped one than she deserved. “Be easy, Emma. I don't think the wolf means me any harm, not after this long. You run home to your supper or your da will send John after you."
She wrinkled her nose at him. “All right.” She stopped walking, an invitation for him to stop and make eyes at her, or even steal a kiss. As if he had ever tried. He kept moving, looking straight ahead, hearing the obvious frustration in her sigh.
"You can't keep putting me off forever,” she muttered behind him.
Wil did turn his head at that, surprised, but she was already heading away from him. He continued down the street more slowly, a sinking feeling in his gut. She wouldn't have said that if she didn't have Master Miller's consent. Da must have gotten tired of waiting and spoken for me. He closed his eyes against a wave of nausea; the very thought of marriage made bile rise in his throat.
I suppose if I have to marry, at least Emma is a friend. He shuddered. But I don't want to marry. I can't be what she wants me to be.
Doesn't look like I'm going to have a choice.
* * * *
The next day, Wil followed the sheep out of the neck of the fenced passage and into the pasture, shutting the gate behind him. Below him in the hollow between the slopes, the village still lay in shadow, but up here the early morning sun shone full on the grassy meadow. Wil made one circuit of the pasture's lengthy fence, making sure none of the boards had come loose overnight, before settling under a shady tree at the northern edge of the field.
"I suppose I should have expected it,” he thought out loud as he so often did. Especially these days. “There's only so long that they're going to let me put it off before taking matters into their own hands. Ma's been nagging me about settling down for ages, but she's my mother. That's what they do."
There was a wuuf of agreement from off to the side, the sound of breath through a canine nose. Wil didn't look toward the noise, didn't really look at anything, focused on the sound of his strange companion's approach. Cautious anticipation shivered through his shoulders. He kept talking.
"They're trying to get me to propose first. It would make Emma happy, and I know she wants me to be happy, truly she does. She just doesn't understand why I can't be happy with her."
Wil heard the light scraping of claws over dirt, and a soft sigh as the wolf lay down next to him. It stretched out its forefeet and rested its chin on its paws. Out of the corner of his eye, Wil saw the ears swivel to catch his words. It was a good listener.
"And you're not helping things at all,” he told the wolf. “Bad enough that most of the town thinks I'm either crazy or a liar, but Emma believes me about you. And that just makes me more...interesting."
The wolf sighed again.
It was large for a wolf, its fur unusually dark. Wil had first seen it almost two weeks earlier, when he had caught sight of it skulking along the outside of the fence. He'd shouted and waved his crook, expecting the creature to take fright and run off. Instead it had stared at him with its yellow eyes, just stared, until Wil's throat closed up and he backed away. That wolf knew men, and wasn't afraid in the least.
Wil had gathered the sheep and herded them back toward town as fast as he could. A lone wolf would find their livestock easier to catch than anything wild. A wolf that didn't fear men was a danger not just to the sheep, but to the whole town.
But when the men had followed him back to the pasture to help him drive off the creature, not only was the wolf gone, there was no sign it had ever been there.
Still, the men had believed him then.
After three days of the wolf appearing to him, then vanishing without a trace before the men arrived, that changed.
"Apparently Master Miller is just fine with his future son-in-law being crazy or a liar, if it makes Emma happy.” Wil shook his head. “He never could tell her no over anything."
He lapsed into silence. The wolf closed its eyes and appeared to fall asleep.
Shepherding was a lonely business, except for the occasional market day. Most boys gave it up as soon as they could get apprenticed to a trade, but Wil had always preferred it no matter how awful the weather. The sheep didn't care if he liked men. Being in town always made him feel far lonelier than long hours in the pasture ever had.
At midday Wil took out his lunch: two hardboiled eggs and some bread and cheese. He peeled the first egg and tossed it to the wolf, who caught it in midair and swallowed it with an audible gulp while Wil peeled and ate the second.
"I probably shouldn't feed you.” He crushed the eggshells and scattered them in the grass. Picking up the heel of bread, he tore off a chunk and eyed the wolf, smiling. “I'd hate for you to start stealing loaves from windowsills or something."
The wolf snapped at the air, gently, in a gesture that said quite plainly, “Shut up and give me some of that.” Wil chuckled and tossed the chunk of bread.
