like him. It’s not my fault he assured himself. I’m just a fish out of water here. Were I to abruptly transport Carson to the sort of society I was accustomed to in Bingtown, he would be the one to feel useless and ill at ease. Was it truly a fault that Sedric would have been more competent at choosing a series of wines to complement a banquet, or giving a tailor instructions on how a jacket was to be altered rather than swinging an axe to render a dead log into firewood or cutting an animal up into pieces that would fit in a pot? He didn’t think so. He was not a useless or incompetent person. He was simply out of his area of expertise. He looked around himself at the rainy hillside and the looming forest. Far out of his area of expertise.
And weary of it. He thought of Bingtown with longing. The clatter and chatter of the market place, the city’s wide, flagged streets and well-kept manor houses, its friendly taverns and teashops! The open circuit of the market, and the cool shade of the public gardens! What would Jefdin the tailor think to see his best customer in rags? He suddenly longed for mulled wine and spices in a nice warm mug. Oh, what wouldn’t he give for one meal that wasn’t cooked over a hearth fire? One glass of good wine, one piece of bread? Even a bowl of simple hot porridge with currants and honey. Anything that wasn’t game meat or fish or gathered greens. Anything that was the slightest bit sweet! He’d sacrifice anything for one well prepared meal served on a plate at a table with a cloth!
He glanced at Carson walking beside him. His cheeks were ruddy above his carefully trimmed beard, his dark eyes brimming with his concerns. A recent memory intruded. Carson sitting on a low stool, his eyes closed, his expression that of a stroked cat as Sedric used a small comb and tiny scissors to shape his beard to his face. He had been still and obedient, turning his head only as Sedric bade him, rapt as he basked in his attention. To see the powerful man quiescent under his touch had filled Sedric with a sense of mastery. He had trimmed Carson’s wild mane as well, but not too much. Strange to admit that part of the hunter’s attraction for him was his untamed aspect. He smiled to himself, a small shiver of recalled pleasure standing up the hair on his neck and arms. Well, perhaps there was one thing Sedric would not be willing to sacrifice to return to Bingtown!
He contrived to brush shoulders with Carson as they walked. The hunter grinned and immediately threw his arm around Sedric. No hesitation. Sedric’s heart gave a bump. Hest would never have shown him such casual affection in public. Nor in private, if he was truthful. Carson tightened his hug and Sedric leaned into his embrace as they walked. The hunter was solid and muscular; it was like leaning on an oak. Sedric smiled to realize that he thought of his lover in such terms. Maybe he was becoming accustomed to living here in the wilds. Carson’s coarse cloak and his bound hair smelled of woodsmoke and man. Silvery glints of scaling were starting to show at the corner of his eyes. His dragon was changing him. Sedric liked the way it looked.
Carson rubbed his upper arm. ‘You’re cold. Why don’t you have your cloak on?’
Sedric’s original cloak was long gone, eaten by the acid waters of the Rain Wild River. The garment Carson was referring to was a roughly tanned deer hide with the hair still on it. Carson himself had skinned it off the animal, tanned it and cut it to shape. It tied around Sedric’s neck with leather thongs he had sewn onto it. Sedric was accustomed to furs that were soft and lined with fabric. This cloak was slightly stiff, the skin side of it a creamy colour. It crackled when he walked. Deer hair was not fur: it was stiff and bristly. ‘It’s so heavy,’ Sedric replied guiltily. He would not mention that it smelled like, well, like a deer hide.
‘Indeed it is. But it would shed the rain and keep you warmer.’
‘It’s too far to go back for it now.’
‘Yes. But gathering firewood will warm both of us.’
Sedric didn’t reply that he could think of better ways to warm them both. He was not a lazy man, but he had an aversion to the hard physical labour that Carson routinely accepted as his life. Before Alise had kidnapped him on her crazed adventure up the Rain Wild River, Sedric had always lived as befitted a young Bingtown Trader, even if his family had not been all that well-to-do. He’d worked hard, but with his mind, not his back! He’d kept accounts, both for the household and for the many business contracts that Hest negotiated for his family. He had minded Hest’s wardrobe and overseen his social appointments. He had passed Hest’s instructions on to the household staff, and dealt with their complaints and questions. He’d kept track of the arrival and departure dates of the ships in the harbour, making sure that Hest had the pick of incoming cargos and that he was the first to contact new merchants. He had been essential to the smooth running of Hest’s household and business. Essential. Valued.
Then a memory of Hest’s mocking smile confronted and scattered his warm memories of that time. Had any of his life truly been the way he thought it was? he wondered bitterly. Had Hest valued him for his social and organizational skills? Or had he simply enjoyed the use of Sedric’s body, and how well he endured the humiliations that Hest heaped on him? He narrowed his eyes against the sting of the lancing rain. Had his father been right about him? Was he a useless fop, fit only to fill the fine clothes that his employer paid for?
‘Hey. Come back.’ Carson shook his shoulder gently. ‘When you get that look on your face, it bodes no good for either of us. It’s done, Sedric. A long time over and gone. Whatever it was. Let it go and stop tormenting yourself.’
‘I was such a fool.’ Sedric shook his head. ‘I deserve to be tormented.’
Carson shook his head and a touch of impatience came into his voice. ‘Well, then stop tormenting me. When I see that look on your face, I know you’re thinking about Hest.’ He paused suddenly, as if he’d been on the verge of saying something and then changed his mind. After a moment, he said with forced cheer, ‘So. What brought him to mind this time?’
‘I’m not missing him, Carson, if that’s what you think. I’ve no desire to return to him. I’m more than content with you. I’m happy.’
Carson squeezed his shoulder again. ‘But not so happy that you can stop thinking of Hest.’ He tipped his head and looked at him quizzically. ‘I don’t think he treated you well. I don’t understand his hold on you.’
Sedric shook his head as if he could shake all memories of Hest out of his mind. ‘It’s hard to explain him. He’s very charismatic. He gets what he wants because he truly believes he deserves it. When something goes wrong, he never takes the blame as his own. He puts it on someone else, and then just steps away from whatever the disaster was. It always seemed to me that Hest could just step away from anything terrible that happened, even if he caused it. Whenever it seemed that he would finally have to face the consequences of what he did, some other passage would suddenly open for him.’ His voice ran down. Carson’s dark eyes were on him, trying to understand.
‘And that fascinates you still?’
‘No! At the time, it always seemed as if he had extraordinary luck. Now, when I look back, I see him as being very good at shifting the blame. And I let him. Often. So I’m not really thinking of Hest. I’m thinking about my life back in Bingtown, about who he made me … or rather who I let myself become.’ Sedric shrugged. ‘I’m not proud of who I became when I was with Hest. Not proud of things I planned to do, or the ones I did. But in some ways, I’m still that person. And I don’t know how to change.’
Carson gave him a sideways glance, his smile broad. ‘Oh, you’ve changed. Trust me on that, laddie. You’ve changed quite a bit.’
They’d reached the eaves of the forest. The bare-leaved trees at the outer edges did little to break the incessant rain. There were evergreens a bit higher up the hill, offering more shelter, but there were more dead and fallen branches for firewood here.
Carson
