Cethe (15 page)

hips, he slowly pul ed the smal er man down onto him.

The earl cried out, body arching as, stretched to his utmost, he was impaled on Michael’s swol en cock. Michael nearly fainted

at the exquisite tightness gripping him. Reaching around, he found Stefn’s erection and grasped it tightly, using it to force Stefn up

and down at his pleasure.

Climax roared over Michael. He heard the guttural sound that was his own voice before the ecstasy overwhelmed him. When

he regained his senses, he was leaning heavily against Stefn’s back. His hand, lying limply around the cethe’s softening cock, was

wet. He turned his head slightly, lips brushing Stefn’s ear. A shudder ran through the slender youth. Face hidden, Stefn panted for

breath, trembling.

He whimpered when Michael final y left his body. Doing up his breeches, Michael’s head spun. This time, using Stefn had

been pleasure unlike any Michael had experienced. It was almost like a drug! A dim, rational part of him was alarmed. Walking

around the chair, he lifted the younger man’s lowered head. Eyes washed with tears met his gaze. Lips, puffy and bitten, quivered.

Again, Michael couldn’t help himself. Once more, he kissed his cethe, swal owing Stefn’s moan. Then, because he wasn’t sure

it wouldn’t happen al over again, he resolutely turned his back and somehow got out of there.

The next morning, Michael found Annie in the breakfast room, poking at a bowl of porridge. She brightened at the sight of him.

“There you are! Father has been asking for you!”

He groaned.

“Oh, Mick.” She gazed at him sorrowful y.

“I don’t have time to argue with him, Annie.”

“Do you have time to argue with me?”

Michael looked around. Chris came in, uniform jacket folded neatly over his arm. He hung it on the back of his chair and went

to the sideboard.

“Not real y,” Michael said. “I’ve brought money. Isn’t that al you care about?”

“Mick! Chris!”

They were distressing Annie. His brother scowled, slamming a piece of toast on his tower of eggs.

“I know about the new tax,” Michael continued. “And I brought enough to cover it. We don’t have to sel any more land. Not

yet, anyway.”

Chris looked a bit happier, carrying his plate to the table before returning to the sideboard for t’cha. “What about the farmers?”

“I have money for them, too. My investments have done wel .” It was true, after a fashion.

“Why aren’t
they
taxed?” Chris wasn’t stupid.

“Because, official y, the money is Severyn’s. Our agreement is private.”

“You trust him that much? What if he decides just to keep the money?”

“Sev?” Michael shook his head, incredulous. “The same man who used to run tame in this house, who teased you and carried

you around on his shoulders?”

“So what? He’s a human. In the end, they’re our enemies! When it comes right down to it, Mick, and he has to… ”

“What about Lord Eldering?” asked Annie hurriedly. “Should I have something sent up to him?”

“No!” Michael covered his reaction with another sip of tea. That would be the last thing he needed: his seventeen year old

sister coming upon the bound and naked Eldering! “Marin wil see to his needs. You stay wel away from his room.”

“That’s another thing!” Chris said. “What the devil is he doing here?”

“That, little brother, is none of your business.”

“You bring a Hunter into this house and it’s none of my business?” Chris’ voice rose, face reddening.

From the corner of his eye, Michael saw Annie’s eyes get round with shock. Pushing back his chair, he stood up. Digging into

his pocket, he pul ed out a smal bag and set it in front of her. “Take what you need for household expenses and use the rest to buy

whatever you like — one or two of those sil y novels you like so much, for instance.”

Anne’s eyes lit up, al else forgotten. She opened the pouch at once, spil ing the coins onto the tablecloth.

“Chris, a word?”

The brothers left their sister eagerly planning to spend her largesse. Outside the breakfast room, Chris stopped and turned to

face Michael. “Damn it, Mick! What’s going on? You come waltzing home, unannounced, in the company of an Eldering, no less!

You hand out gold like candy! If I were to ask Grandfather, al he’d say is to mind my own business, but what trouble are you

bringing us?”

“None, I hope. Where is Grandfather, anyway?”

“How should I know? I’m not as pureblooded as you, remember? I have no witchpower.” Chris shrugged angrily. “I hear

through the servants that he intends to go back to Tantagrel with you! Good riddance, I say!”

“Not to his face, I’l wager!”

“And when was the last time you defied him?”

“About a week ago,” murmured Michael, thinking of Eldering and the reckoning to come. “And I’m not going back to Tantagrel.”

The sound of a clearing throat brought the brothers up short. At the end of the hal stood Dex, their grandfather’s valet. Seeing

he had their attention, the servant approached and bowed. “Lord Michael, welcome home,” he said. “His Grace wishes to see you.”

Chris swore under his breath. He pushed past Michael and strode back to his breakfast.

“Tel Grandfather I’l be with him in a moment,” said Michael.

Marin was seated in front of Stefn’s room, keeping guard. He sprang to attention when Michael arrived. “Been getting noisy in

there,” said the big man with a grin.

Michael unlocked the door and went in. Eldering’s slim, nude figure straightened in the chair. Shadowed eyes met his. Michael

watched Stefn press his trembling lips together. The col ar sparkled in the light streaming through the dusty windows. “Hel o, my

beauty,” Michael said. He unlocked the shackles. “How was your night?”

He expected no answer and there was none, not even an angry glare. Michael left Stefn rubbing his chafed and swol en

wrists. Pausing long enough to give brief instructions to Marin, Michael steeled himself for the coming interview and went to face his

grandfather.

The duke’s apartment was sacrosanct; one visited by invitation only. His handful of personal servants, fiercely loyal and

discreet, were treated like royalty themselves below stairs.

Situated in the front of the house, the apartment overlooked the marsh stretching away below. Tal windows admitted copious

amounts of light, but down on the marsh the morning mist was stil thick.

Michael found his grandfather in his sitting room, finishing his breakfast. Stil attired in his dressing-gown, Lord Damon waved

Michael toward a chair at the table.

“Good morning, lad. You look wel .”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I received Severyn’s note two days ago. Wel done, both of you.”

Michael took the offered seat and smiled at Geena, Lord Damon’s elderly maid, as she set a cup of expensive, imported

spiced t’cha before him.

“Did you have much trouble?”

“No. Shia is secure for now.” Michael paused to sip at the fragrant tea. “Everything went according to plan for the most part.

There were a few surprises, but not al of them bad.”

The duke received the information about the hidden room and its treasures with a bitter smile. “So, not only did they kil and

rob innocents, they cheated their own masters, as wel . What a charming clan.” He shook his head. “At least now the treasure can

save h’naran lives instead of enrich their persecutors. What about the Eldering boy? Christopher reported you’ve brought him. We

must make preparations for the Binding at once.”

Michael shook his head. Setting down his cup, he said, “It’s already done. I saw no reason to wait.”

“No reason?” The duke’s expression darkened. “Did we not decide you would bring him here for the ceremony?”

“We did,” replied Michael evenly. “But it was you who told me that naragi always Bound their cethe where their clan had roots.

Our roots were in Shia long before they were in Blackmarsh.”

Lord Damon frowned. “Even so… ”

“I’m sorry, Grandfather, but I needed to Bind Eldering sooner rather than later. He is not a particularly docile man.”

“The heir of a Hunter commander?” Lord Damon laughed harshly. “I can imagine.”

Michael hesitated, then, “As to that, my cethe is Stefn, the youngest son. Al en is dead.”

“I see,” The duke said after a long, disappointed pause. “What other alterations have been made in our plans?”

“None, sir.” Michael met the cool gaze squarely. “I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but Al en Eldering, heir though he was, had

al the appeal of a slab of beef. The prospect of intimacy with the oaf was more than I could stand.”

“Oh, please! A cethe is a slave, nothing more. Take lovers as you wish to satisfy your lust. Besides, he’s a sin-catcher, is he

not? They’re notoriously frail. Wil he have enough power to serve you if war breaks out? Wil his body withstand the demands

placed upon it?”

Michael remembered Fornsby. “He’s stronger than he looks.”

“I hope so,” replied the duke grimly. “The measure of a naragi’s strength is directly connected to that of his cethe. I hope we

don’t al live to regret your fastidiousness.”

Would there ever come a time when Lord Damon failed to make him feel like a disobedient child?

“Have you tested your new endurance?”

“A little. It’s easier and less tiring to cast spel s now. Would you care for a demonstration?”

Loth! I even sound like a sullen schoolboy!

“Al in good time. What about al ies? Has Severyn made in any progress there?”

“Marinton and Caudeta have been making inquiries, but no commitments yet. You would think, between Arami’s taxes and

Locke’s tithes, they’d be more than ready for change.”

“Many who would see a new king fear the reaction of the Church,” Lord Damon said. “Arami may not have the love of the

people, but he is supported by the Celestial Council. Deposing him wil be difficult enough, but if the Church becomes involved, we

wil face our true test.”

“At least here in the West, Locke’s power is not so deeply entrenched.”

“So far,” his grandfather said. “I’ve heard from some of our émigrés that knightmages are being sent from Zelenov, supposedly

for short visits, but arriving with so much baggage, it looks like they plan to take up residence in the Cathedrals where they’re being

assigned. You had best hope your pretty sin-catcher is indeed up to snuff. If the High Orders turn against the Lothlains, even the

power of a naragi may not be sufficient to stop them!”

As soon as Lord Michael left the room, Marin helped Stefn up from the chair. Without a word, the earl stumbled to the bed and

threw himself down upon it. He was vaguely aware of Marin tucking the blankets around him, but he was asleep before the man

finished.

When he woke, it was late in the afternoon. He was alone again. Wrapped in familiar solitude, he was almost content. His

body felt heavy and his mind, stil muzzy with sleep, drifted where it would. Alas, that was inevitably to the night before. The memory

sent warmth rushing through him. Cursing weakly, he threw the covers back and got out of bed.

Washing up, he caught a glimpse of himself in the dressing table’s mirror and could not help focusing on the gaudy gems

wrapped around his neck. He pul ed at the col ar again, but listlessly, knowing he had no chance of getting it off. Somehow, its foul

k’na magic was corrupting him, twisting him around until he no longer knew what he truly felt. His only chance was to fight it, but

with each passing day, it got harder.

Stefn dressed, some perverse whim prompting him to leave his shirt unbuttoned at the neck and his neckcloth off, exposing

the monstrous thing to any who would see. The door was locked, of course, but when he knocked on it, Marin appeared at once. He

meant to ask for food, but instead, heard himself inquiring about Lord Michael’s whereabouts.

“His Grace sent him with Captain Arranz to Waylerton for supplies,” replied the servant. “He wil be back late tomorrow.”

“Where is Waylerton?”

“East some fifteen miles. They used to get their supplies in Creighton, but there’s a Cathedral there now and, with the Church

issuing edicts right and left these days about h’nara, smal er towns are not so welcoming. I’m sorry, my lord, but he insisted that you

remain in your room. Shal I bring you a tray?”

“Yes, please, Marin.”

With Lord Michael safely away for awhile at least, Stefn realized he was hungry. Marin grinned and took himself off.

With nothing else to do, Stefn drifted to the windows. His room looked down over the steep, rocky seashore. For a moment, he