The Complete Horse Mistress Collection, page 87
“Only on the inside,” Senovo said, still shaking under our hands. “Don’t stop, please. Not now, not like this.”
I nodded, only to realize a moment later that he could not see the movement, his eyes still locked with Andoc’s. “You are the bravest person I’ve ever known,” I told him, “and I love you so much it aches.”
“It’s time to let go, amadi,” Andoc said, desperately tender. “You’ve given this to us, now let us carry it for you.”
Senovo made an awful, choked noise. Shuddered, and went limp. “Please,” he said. “I need—” He looked at Andoc with pleading eyes.
Andoc nodded. “I know, old friend. Caradi, would you come up here and take him?”
I nodded, and carefully slid my hand away, drawing a new shudder from our charge. As quickly as I could, I scooted back up so I could draw Senovo into my arms. Andoc reached around awkwardly for the pot of grease sitting on the table by his side of the bed. A moment later, he moved to arrange himself on his belly between Senovo’s legs.
“Love and shared pleasure has always been the greatest revenge you could have against the bastards who would pervert our religion by causing pain to the innocent,” Andoc said. “They may have done their black-hearted best, but they couldn’t take either of those things away from you.”
I held Senovo tight, and he nodded against my shoulder—a jerky, disjointed movement.
Andoc scooped up grease and stroked over Senovo’s cock before moving to tease him open with first one finger, then two. Senovo moaned against my skin as Andoc stroked inside him. His shaft twitched and gradually filled, until I could position our joined hands around its stiff length, pumping slowly up and down. We pleasured him with lazy, unhurried movements, never letting up. Eventually, his breath grew ragged as he approached his crisis point.
“Touch me,” he said. “Please, do it now!”
Andoc stretched forward to kiss and lick at the damaged flesh between Senovo’s legs. He mouthed at the wrinkled flap, drawing it between his lips to suck and lave with gentle movements. Senovo cried out sharply, as if in surprise, and sobbed his release, his cock jerking in the warm space between our joined hands. He continued to weep even after the spasms ceased, burying his face in my neck. I held him close with my free arm, a few tears of my own escaping to slide down my cheeks and into his hair. A moment later, Andoc was behind him, rearranging their arms so he, too could embrace Senovo as he at last grieved openly for what he’d lost, so many years ago.
“I wanted them all dead,” he choked out. “As they were dragging me into the chamber, I vowed to see every single one of them torn limb from limb. And then the wolf came, and did exactly that. It killed them. I killed them.”
“You were mad with fear and pain, amadi. The wolf did what was necessary to get free from them and escape. There is nothing more natural than a wounded animal defending itself. I will be forever grateful to that part of you. It saved you, and brought you to us,” Andoc said, as we had both said so many times before. Perhaps, I thought with a surge of hope, this would be the time that Senovo finally believed us.
“The wolf has saved all of us at one time or another,” I added. “Without it, none of us would be here in this bed tonight.”
Senovo’s weeping was all the more heartrending for being completely silent, in spite of the violence of his shaking. Finally, he dragged in a ragged breath, like a drowning man surfacing from the depths. When he spoke, his voice was as hoarse as if he’d been shouting.
“When we return to Draebard, I will give myself over to the wolf. I will trust him to save us one more time, because the alternative is to see you both killed in battle. I couldn’t bear that. I couldn’t survive it.”
My arms clenched around him involuntarily. “And afterward, you’ll come back to us?” I could not keep the desperation from my voice.
“I don’t wish to be parted from either of you,” said Senovo, and it was almost an answer.
“You’ve always had difficulty trusting yourself, Senovo,” Andoc said seriously. “But now, you’ll find out what we’ve always known. We freely trust you with our lives, on four legs or two.”
Senovo nodded slowly. “Please,” he said, sounding completely wrung out. “I need you now. I need both of you inside me. Please make me feel it. Use me. Mark me. Let me go away for a little while.”
I gave a little sob of my own and clung tighter. Andoc smoothed Senovo’s hair out of the way and pressed a biting kiss to the side of his neck.
“Anything,” he said. “Anything you wish.”
Our saddlebags were propped against a corner of the bed, my harness and curved wooden cock nestled inside. Buckling it on was a challenge with only one hand, but Andoc helped. He and I took turns lazily fucking Senovo into insensibility as the day slipped slowly by in a haze of pleasure-drugged emotion. In between, we fed him choice tidbits of food, gave him sips of wine transferred from our own lips to his, and ran clean, damp cloths over him to wash away the sweat and the spend—only for someone to press into him once again and drive him toward another helpless release.
Though I could not yet bring myself to do so, Andoc brushed occasional stray touches over Senovo’s damaged sac, treating it as simply another part of him to love. Senovo merely lay back, his eyes wide and dark with pleasure, sometimes giving a small shiver in response, but no longer tense and frightened by the contact.
At odd moments, I found myself crying, and one or both of my mates would pull me into an embrace. At odd moments, I found Senovo crying, as well, tears slipping down his face in a steady trickle without marring his perfect stillness and relaxation.
When Andoc gathered us both in his arms as best he could with the bindings connecting our wrists, and trembled silently against us for long minutes, I came back to myself enough to realize that the world outside the window was growing dark. A night had passed… and a day. I reached around until I could stroke my fingers through his tousled brown hair, a faint sense of numbness washing over me.
“It’s over,” I told him, “but it’s not really over. Not yet. Not until we get back to Draebard.”
I felt him take a deep breath and release it slowly. “Yes. Yes, of course. You’re right. Come here, caradi.”
I melted into the penetrating kiss, my lips swollen and tender from all the other kisses the three of us had enjoyed over the course of the day. When Andoc had kissed Senovo as well, and I had followed suit, we set about bringing our thoroughly debauched lover up from the depths with gentle words and touches.
When Senovo looked up at us with trusting eyes and suggested we find High Priest Jyrrel so he could finish the ceremony, I was rather surprised at the depth of tranquility that still seemed to cling to him, even though he had obviously returned to us from his place of respite. I had fully expected to have to essentially drag him from the bed, but he was nearly as steady on his feet as I was, and helped Andoc brace himself on his bad leg until the tight muscles eased after so much time lying down. If Senovo winced a little as we began to walk, throwing me a brief, rueful glance, that was perhaps unsurprising given what we’d spent the last several hours doing to him.
We entered the altar room to find a silent crowd gathered, not as large as last night’s, but significant, nonetheless. Unlike the previous evening, those present parted for us without prompting, clearing a path to the altar, where the Mereni High Priest stood with his hands folded into the sleeves of his white robes.
“Chief Andoc,” he boomed. “High Priest Senovo. Horse Mistress Carivel. The three of you have been bound for a night and a day, as the Ancestors prescribe. It is now my honor to enact the final part of your handfasting ceremony. Kneel before the altar, please.”
Senovo helped Andoc down to the hard flagstone floor, his bad leg held awkwardly to the side. I followed, feeling the stone dig mercilessly into my knees. We raised our bound hands for Jyrrel’s inspection, and he nodded. With deft movements of his pudgy fingers, he unwrapped first the thong binding me to Senovo, and then the one binding Senovo to Andoc.
“The bindings are whole and unbroken,” he told the crowd, lifting the intact thongs so those nearest could see the truth of the words. “The ceremony is complete. Andoc, Senovo, and Carivel are now bondmates before the gods.”
Chapter 17: Parting
SILENCE REIGNED for a long moment, only to be broken by a rather familiar whoop and the sound of someone applauding loudly. After a few more beats, others joined in, slapping their thighs. I rose and made to turn around, only to be nearly bowled over by Keenan’s enthusiastic embrace.
“Congratulations!” she said, and moved to throw her arms around Senovo and Andoc, in turn, heedless of their nakedness. “I’m so happy for the three of you!” She looked back at the front of the crowd. “Ciero’s here as well. He has a gift for you, Carivel.”
Indeed, Keenan’s husband was also mounting the plinth to join us, a leather bag slung over his shoulder. “Congratulations,” he said. “It might have lacked a bit of the excitement that followed our own handfasting, but that was a good ceremony. Sorry some of the townsfolk are idiots.”
Andoc huffed a breath of laughter at Ciero’s blunt assessment. “No harm done.”
Ciero smiled, his broad face dimpling as he rummaged one-handed in the bag. “Carivel, I want you to have this. I remembered that you seemed to like it while I was working on it in Draebard, and it only seems right.”
He pulled out the ebony carving of Nietre, and I gasped at the beauty of the finished piece. “Ciero! It’s gorgeous. I don’t know what to say—”
Keenan hugged me again. “Say thank you for the gift, Ciero, unless you want us to be here all night,” she teased.
“Thank you for the gift, Ciero,” I said obediently, and accepted the small rearing horse with a hand still crisscrossed by marks from the thongs that had bound us. “The likeness is uncanny.”
That was apparently all the payment Ciero required—his grin grew broader and a pleased flush colored his cheeks. “You’re welcome, Horse Mistress. Mind that the real Nietre goes lightly on the way back to Draebard. The carving’s front legs are a bit delicate where the wood grain changes direction.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promised.
A tall figure appeared at Andoc’s shoulder a moment later—Varanis. “If you three are ready to put some clothes on again,” she said, “my mother would like to speak with you before you leave in the morning.”
“Or, as we used to say, congratulations on your handfasting,” Keenan chimed in.
Varanis raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “The war comes first, Third Warrior. Chief Andoc understands that.”
“I do indeed,” Andoc said, and only someone who really knew him would have detected the strain in his face. “We’ll come to the meeting hall as soon as we’ve dressed.”
“Very well,” Varanis replied. “Magoldis is waiting for you. There have been some new developments with the design of the small trebuchets that our weapons makers have been working on.”
All at once, Andoc’s gaze sharpened, and I could see the moment when Andoc-the-lover once again became Andoc-the-warrior. My eyes met Senovo’s and we exchanged a look.
“We’ll come there at once,” said the Chief Andoc of the Draebardi.
* * *
The meeting with Leader Magoldis and the Mereni council dragged long into the night. Andoc explained about Ithric and the northern shape-shifters, and how he hoped to be able to provide an army of bears to defend the northernmost port of Dellwyn, an army of wolves to defend Llanmeer, and an army of lions to defend Erylaan. Between the emotion of the day and the exhausting strategy sessions for the war, the three of us fell into bed afterward and almost immediately succumbed to sleep.
The following morning, we left for Draebard. I was somewhat surprised when, rather than shifting into the wolf to travel, Senovo climbed up behind me on Nietre and cinched his arms around my torso with a firm grip. I was hardly going to question it, though, so I only pressed one of my hands over his and reined the black stallion around, heading west with Andoc on his rangy mare at our side.
The day was relatively warm, and we made good progress before stopping for the night. Senovo was, unsurprisingly, still rather sore after what we’d subjected him to the previous day, topped off by long hours spent in the saddle. Rather than join in directly, he curled next to us in the tent and fondled my breasts and the crease of my arse as I lay on top of Andoc, positioned head to cock. I let his thick shaft press ever deeper into my throat as he pleasured me with his mouth, until we both came with a shudder and gushed our release over each other’s tongues.
Afterward, I should have slept, but an idea that had come to me during the day continued to prod at me until I couldn’t ignore it any more. Senovo was still awake as well, running his hand slowly up and down my back as Andoc snored beside us.
“Do you know where Andoc put the handfasting thongs?” I asked in a low voice.
Senovo’s hand paused in its wanderings. “I believe they are in his left saddlebag, near the front. Why?”
“I want to try making something with them, but it’s a surprise.” The saddlebags were at our feet inside the tent, where animals would not be tempted by the food in them. I opened the flap to let light from the fire inside so I could rummage through the pack. “I can’t sleep anyway, and I think it’s warm enough outside by the fire, so I’ll go keep watch and see if what I want to do will work.”
“Very well,” Senovo said, his curiosity evident but contained. “Take one of the blankets with you to throw over your shoulders.”
I kissed him and tugged one of the blankets free. Andoc snorted and rolled over without waking.
Outside, the night was clear and chilly. The fire was still burning, but I put more scrub wood on it to build it up until it beat back the nighttime cold. When I was more or less comfortable, leaning back against Andoc’s saddle with the blanket tucked around me, I selected a stick of the appropriate size from the pile of kindling. I looped both thongs around it so that I could grasp all four ends. Bracing the stick between my clamped knees to keep it steady, I began to braid.
* * *
The following afternoon, the three of us trotted into Draebard. Honestly, I had half expected pandemonium upon our arrival, since no doubt the news of our controversial handfasting would have reached the ears of every man, woman, and child by now. Instead, the mood seemed restrained… almost somber.
The weather was still pleasant for late winter, so I motioned for us to ride back to the horse pens, where I could be reasonably certain of finding a friendly face or two to explain what was going on.
“Hey, boss,” Dalon greeted us, upon recognizing our distinctive mounts. “You really can’t go a single season without ending up in the middle of some sort of scandal, can you? No offense, Chief Andoc. High Priest Senovo.”
Andoc only lifted his eyebrows. “None taken, Dalon. Who are we to argue with the gods’ will?” he said. “Nothing good ever comes of that.”
“I s’pose not,” Dalon said, sounding unconvinced but resigned. “High Priest, I don’t know if anyone has told you yet, but Chanthi and Ladira took some other people with them on their last visit to Gebrall and Teth. They, um—they managed to get poor Renthro’s body out of that crevasse where he fell. What was left of it, anyhow. They brought him home.”
Fresh grief on Favian’s behalf hit me in the chest with unexpected strength. “The dream,” I said, suddenly remembering Favian waking from a dream of attending his father’s funeral—something that had seemed impossible at the time.
Dalon frowned. “What dream?”
It was Senovo who answered, once Andoc had handed him down from the back of the tall chestnut mare. “Favian had a dream of the funeral ceremony shortly after his father’s death. It appears that it was a true vision after all.”
Dalon touched his head and heart in a brief, superstitious gesture. “And to think we used to have him mucking out horse pens.”
“Nothing wrong with mucking out horse pens,” I said. “It’s a very meditative pastime.”
My second-in-command shook his head. “Speak for yourself. Anyway, let me take your horses. I imagine you’ll need to get back so you can deal with Renthro and all that.”
“I assume we’re not in danger of getting stoned by an angry mob for blasphemy?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Honestly, boss, I think you’ve pretty much got them trained to expect the unexpected at this point. Plus, I don’t think Draebard is stupid enough to disown its Chief, High Priest, and Horse Mistress a few weeks before an invasion.”
“I suppose that’s reassuring,” Senovo said.
We returned to the temple with our saddlebags thrown over our shoulders, walking slowly in deference to Andoc’s leg, which had been bothering him more than usual after a day of inactivity followed by two days’ hard riding. Along the way, a few people stopped to greet us, while several others stared at us like we were something strange and frightening. No one offered congratulations or even mentioned the handfasting, so I gathered that the villagers’ strategy was going to be to ignore the whole thing as much as humanly possible.
Tempting though it was to drag Senovo into a passionate kiss in the middle of the green just to drive the point home, I managed to restrain myself on the grounds that as reactions went, we could have received worse.
The air of careful, willful ignorance evaporated once Eiridan opened the temple door to greet us, however. His eyes roved over the three of us, taking in our appearance and demeanor. “Is it done?” he asked.
“It is,” Senovo answered, a faint sense of wonder still coloring his tone.
Eiridan’s smile bloomed, lighting up his pleasant features. “Well, then—congratulations to all three of you.” He sobered after a moment. “I’m sorry to bear somber news during what should be a happy occasion, but—”
“Dalon told us about Renthro’s body,” I interrupted.
