Bound to the battle god

39

Anger flares in my mind, and frustration. She wasn’t going to say anything? I jump to my feet—and then stop, looking at her terrified face. Sympathy replaces any anger. She doesn’t know him like I do, and it’s clear she’s scared she’s going to lose her family, her farm, or worse.

I put my hand over hers. “I’m going to get Aron—my Aron—and bring him in and then I want you guys to tell us everything, all right?”

She gives a quick, jerky nod.

Furious, I jump up to get my Aron.

A short time later, Vian sits down at the table in front of the fire, her husband's hand on her shoulder. Both of them look ready to faint at the slightest indication of rage from Aron. To my traveling companion's credit, he's calm. It's as if he expected this sort of thing. Me, I still feel slightly betrayed that we stayed here overnight and were friendly and they're just now deciding to tell us about the other Aspect that's looking to kill both of us.

I remind myself that Vian is mortal and poor and pregnant and worried and possibly starving. We're the enemy in her eyes, and she's making a great concession by telling us. It's clear from her husband's tight mouth that he didn't want to say a thing at all. Him, I can't like. For all of his obedience and terrified kneeling to Aron, he was ready to not say a peep about the other guy that came through a few days ago.

I kind of hate him for that.

Vian gives me another worried look. "Travelers stop by our farm all the time," she tells me. "At first we didn't think anything of it. They wore cloaks and they brought more rain with them. It's the rainy season anyhow, but there's been more and more ever since the Anticipation, and our crops have suffered. These particular travelers were a large band, maybe ten men, all armed. There was a wizard with them." She purses her lips. "And a man in a cloak. They asked to stay at our farm and for us to feed them, but times have been hard, and we didn't realize…" She trails off, then gives her hands a nervous twist. "We told them it would cost a drab a day if they pla

"That it was Aron," I say, voice flat.

"Yes. With two eyes and no axe, of course, but it was impossible to mistake him." She stares down at her hands in her lap. "Once we realized our error and that we had been blessed by the god's presence, we gave them whatever they wanted, of course. We let them clean out our stores and take two of our woale. We had three, you know. It's just that…the only reason they left the one behind was because it was limping." She won't look me in the eye. "They stayed with us overnight and the god never spoke to us. Not directly. Until it was time to leave. Then he came up to us and said that we had been good hosts and he would reward us suitably. We thought he meant coin, compensation for what he and his men were taking. Instead, they beat Cathis and rode away, and he left the rain behind. It has been pouring ever since. It will not stop. Not ever." She picks at a string on her tunic. "I guess we were not good hosts after all."

Aron and I exchange a look.

"Lies," Aron says.

"Unless he's trying to make us think that, and he's actually something else." I eye Vian and her husband. "Uh, so while they were here, did they have sex?"

She frowns at my question, confused. "Do you mean the god and his devotees? He had a concubine that he shared with the wizard, but that was it."

Sharing? That dirty bird. I'm guessing the wizard is his anchor, like I am to this Aron. "I mean like…you guys. Did you feel overcome with the need to have sex?"

"My wife is very heavy with our child," Cathis tells me, outraged. "I would not dream of touching her while she is carrying."

I don't bother to tell him that I've heard that's not a problem, but I also don't care about him, secret-keeper that he is. Fuck him. "No orgies amongst his soldiers?" When they give me baffled looks, I sigh. "Okay, maybe it wasn't Hedonism then."

"It is Lies," Aron says again. "And he is heading to the tower as well."

"How do you know for sure?"

"Because I am him and he is me." He crosses his arms over his chest. "We are heading there ourselves, are we not?"

He has a point. But if we're drawing parallels… "So you're telling me that you'd share a hooker with your wizard, too?"

"Why does that matter?" He frowns at me as if I've lost my mind.

Oh, sure, it might not matter to him, but it sure as fuck matters to me. "No reason. Just that we're tied together until one or both of us dies, that's all. I need to know if I need to make room in the damn bed." And I cross my arms over my chest.

Aron's mouth twitches. "Are you jealous?"

"What? No! Don't be ridiculous."

"You are the one being ridiculous. And I am a god. If I wanted to fuck all of them, is it not my right?" He looks down his nose at me, so very arrogant.

"No," I say flatly.

"They would not refuse me." He looks over at Cathis. "If I asked you to give me your wife right now, would you?"

Vian hunches her shoulders. Cathis bows his head and puts his fist over his chest. "We live to serve, Lord of Storms."

Ew. "Don't be gross, Aron."

"I am a god," he tells me, as if I don't know this. "If I ask anything of a mortal, they will give it to me." He shrugs. "If I am in a mood for a fuck, I will take whoever and whatever I want."

"You arrogant sack of shit," I tell him, jumping to my feet. I ignore Vian's gasp. "I don't care if you're the sun god or the god of dirty brown assholes, but my life is tied to yours now. You need to have respect for me and my choices too! You…" My words die in my throat because his mouth is twitching with amusement, and his shoulders shake as if he's fighting back laughter.

Aron finds this all fu

I smack him on his chest with my hand. "You are an arrogant asshole."

"The god of dirty brown ones, apparently," he agrees, laughter rumbling out of him. He grabs my hand before I can smack at his chest again, and holds my wrist, giving me a teasing look. "Speak the truth, Faith. Are you mad over the things that I have said just now? Or are you mad because you imagine me taking other lovers when you have staked your claim on me?"

"Oh bullshit," I say boldly. "I have staked no claim at all. You can sleep with whoever you want."

He arches an eyebrow as if he doesn't believe my words. Fu

Right now is one of the latter times.

Aron leans in, my hand still trapped in his grip. Little sparks shiver through my skin at his touch, reminding me that he’s not mortal—as if I’d ever forget. “I remember what you have sacrificed, Faith,” he murmurs, expression intent. “And the only one allowed in your bed is me.”

With that, he releases my hand and leaves me wondering exactly what the heck he meant just now.

He turns back toward Vian and Cathis. “We will take the woale you have offered us, and any food supplies you can share. The rain will not return. I am not the Aspect of Lies, so this is truth I tell you. And we will pay you for any supplies you give us. Is there anything else you would share with us that can help? Remember that it is not just my life in danger on this journey, but hers.” And he gestures at me.

Vian’s wide eyes go to me, and then she shakes her head. “There is nothing.”

I have to believe her. Even if there was more information to be shaken out of her, it might take days to get her to admit it, and we don’t have that. Aron’s made it clear we need to get to the tower, and pronto. His urgency drives mine, because if a god is worried about something…well, we all need to worry.

But I look at Vian’s thin face, her arms (and belly) filled with children, and I think she has enough on her plate.

When we leave the farm, the sun is shining hot overhead, the air dry and rain-free. The roads are drying, thanks to the heat, and our woale—or land-hippo, as I like to think of him —plods along a rutted path, contentedly going about the speed of a bicycle with two flat tires. Our bags are saddled, and Aron and I sit atop the thing's wide back on a blanket that passes as a saddle. I sit behind him, clinging to his waist, because it feels as if any moment I'm going to slide off the thing's side. Aron lightly holds the reins and he sits atop the thing as if he's ridden woales all his life. Maybe he has. Maybe this is what gods do for fun.

The thing makes a gronking noise, shits all over the road behind us, and then pauses to eat some grass on the side of the road. Aron mutters a curse, tugs on the reins, and our woale reluctantly starts walking again.

"Remind me why we're taking this thing instead of walking?" I ask him, shifting carefully. My backside is hurting from the thing's spine and it's been less than an hour since we left. It's going to be a long day in the saddle—so to speak. "I imagine we could crawl faster than this thing's going."

Aron just snorts.

"I'm serious. I bet if I look behind us I'll see the farm still."

"It's not about speed, Faith. A well-trained woale will continue along a road all day and all night without stopping. They don't need to sleep or rest for days on end. They're useful for their stamina."

"Goody. So you're telling me we get to somehow ride on this thing through the night?"

"If we must. If we find someplace suitable, we'll stop and rest for a while." He doesn't sound bothered either way.

Must be nice. I hold onto his leather belt and grit my teeth as the thing lumbers along, swaying. I want to rest my cheek against Aron's back, but I don't want him to read more into my body language than he should. Resting against him would also mean pushing my boobs against him, and I'm still mulling some of his comments from the last few days.

Especially the one about how he could have me anytime he wanted. I think it's more arrogant bullshit, but he's also becoming increasingly touchy-feely and it makes me both breathless and confused. My thoughts start to migrate in a sexy direction and I carefully steer them back to the present, watching as Aron pulls one of the waterskins from the saddlebag in front of him and takes a sip, then offers it to me.

"Thanks," I say, surprised at his thoughtfulness. I take a sip—warm, yummy—and hand it back. "Cathis and Vian were sure grateful for the money, weren't they?"

"Of course they were. They should be grateful they kept their heads. The fact that we rewarded them for withholding information probably seems like it's too good to be true." His tone is sour.

I poke him gently in the side. "We didn't pay them for withholding information. We paid them for giving us supplies and letting us take the world's slowest mount."

Aron chuckles. "I have been on slower, if it makes you feel better."

"When?" I demand to know.