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56
A short time later, we set off on our woales, heavily laden with supplies. Yule
It makes me wonder if we should have stayed in Novoro after all.
But Aron takes a deep breath as the imposing Novoro citadel disappears, and he relaxes. I can’t help but laugh, and I poke him in the side. “Glad to be gone?”
He glares at me from over his shoulder. “You have no idea how much that lord simpers and natters on, desperate to win approval.”
“Oh, I can guess.” Aron hasn’t had a moment’s peace since we arrived at Novoro. “Are you sure you won’t miss the titty buffet?”
“Titty…buffet?”
“Yeah, the all-you-can-eat, all-the-pussy-you-can-stand parties he put on every night?”
Aron snorts with amusement. “As if that would please me. A ‘titty buffet’ as you call it is u
“Because you don’t eat?”
“Because no tits hold my interest save yours.”
And just because I like hearing that, I press them against his back.
The snow grows thicker as the hours pass and the day steadily colder. No amount of layers keeps me warm and I’m shivering as I hold onto Aron. The woales seem utterly unaffected by the change in weather, plodding onward and chewing feed from ice-crusted feed bags. I look over at the other mortals in our group and see they’re all suffering as much as me. Yule
“Can we stop for the night?” I ask Aron when the sun goes down under the horizon. “I know a woale can go all night, but my ass quit about two hours ago. I need a fire and to get out of this wind before my nose freezes off my face.”
He looks over his shoulder at me in irritation, but his expression softens as he gazes on my face. I must look really bad because he nods. “We’ll set up camp here.”
“Here?” I ask, surprised. I look around and we’re still in the mountains, on the muddy, nasty path that winds between the rocks. It doesn’t look like any place I’d want to walk, much less spend the night. “In the middle of the road?”
“We’re not going to be out of the mountains tonight,” Aron says, tugging on the reins of our woale. “This is as good a place as any.”
“But it’s the middle of the road,” I protest. I guess I envisioned a nice copse of trees, a nearby creek, something more camp-like than just parking our asses here. We’re not even on an even slope.
“You heard Novoro’s lord,” Markos calls out. “They are the only ones with access to the northern wastes. They will not let anyone through to threaten my lord Aron.”
He’s got a point. And I do want to stop.
“Don’t be so fussy, Faith,” Aron murmurs. “Would you rather go back to Novoro and endure another titty feast?”
“It’s ‘buffet,’ and good point.”
Aron helps me down, and then I huddle with Yule
“I would be honored to service you both,” she says, smiling at me.
Erk. “In a purely non-sexual way. I just want you to sleep somewhere where you don’t have to worry about being groped.”
“Markos would never,” Yule
Interesting that she mentions Markos out of all four. “And Kerren would never, either. But Vitar and Solat might not care.”
She laughs and nods. “I thank you, Faith. You’ve been good to me.” And she huddles up against me again.
I feel like a jerk as I share warmth with her. She’s been nothing but nice to me and I was terribly, horribly jealous of her when we first met. I’m learning a lot about myself and maybe Aron’s not the only one that had a touch of arrogance that needed to be eradicated. I hug her close, determined to be a better friend.
Vitar builds a fire in the center of the road, and then small folding stools are produced for me and Aron. Aron—who hasn’t lifted a finger—immediately sits and pulls me into his lap. I don’t even protest. It’s too cold, and he’s far too warm. I wrap my cloak around both of us and snuggle close. His big hand closes over my i
And really, it’s kind of nice to just cuddle.
Yule
Vitar crouches near the fire, putting his hands out. “Never thought the edge of the world would be so cold.”
“You thought it would be warm?” Kerren asks, surprised.
“No, of course not. Just…not quite like this. My balls are about to shrivel into coins.” He glances over at me. “Apologies.”
I just shrug. I like hearing the conversations, because it lets me glean more about this place that I’ve landed. Aron’s not much help since he’s as much a stranger here as I am. “So this is the edge of the world? Really?”
“Of course not. Mortals are fools,” Aron murmurs into my ear.
“It is not,” Markos says, nudging Vitar as he crouches next to him. “We’re simply far north. That’s all.”
“Edge of the world,” Vitar says again. “And we’re heading to the edge of time, where the spiders dwell. Just like the stories say.”
Solat snorts.
“It’s true,” Vitar protests. “When you were a boy, didn’t your mam tell you stories about the gods of time that lived in a tower made of webs and rode spiders? Who could kill with a jerk of a thread? And how if you step on a spider, you have to apologize to the Spidae so they don’t remove you from the weave?”
“Children’s stories,” Markos protests.
Vitar tilts his head. “You mean like the Anticipation?”
No one answers him.
Vitar turns to Aron. “Is it true, my lord? You would have the answers.”
“To which question?” Aron’s hand smooths up and down my back under my cloak, and I’m two seconds away from purring with pleasure. It should not be this delicious to be cradled in a man’s lap, damn it.
“Is it the edge of the world, truly?” Kerren asks, his eyes wide. “Will we fall off the edge?”
“No edge,” Aron says, his focus on my face and not theirs. “But the Spidae do exist. That’s where we are headed even now.”
“I knew it,” Vitar crows, launching to his feet. He stabs a finger at Markos. “I knew they weren’t just tales!”
“You’re pleased that we’re to meet spider gods?” Markos gives him an incredulous look, batting away Vitar’s finger.
“They really are spider gods?” I ask Aron, surprised. I remember Omos’s scrolls, but only vaguely, and I remember something about a triad of fates, but not that they rode spiders. I’m pretty sure I would have remembered something as creepy as that.
“They are not spiders. Just like I am not made of lightning and thunder is not my displeasure.” His mouth curls with derision.
I say nothing to that. Does Aron not realize it thunders every time he gets pissy? It’s the easiest way for me to tell his mood. He’s so oblivious sometimes. Still, I’m glad they’re not spider gods, because I’m really not a fan of insects. “So we’re visiting them. Are they expecting us?”
“Does it matter? They will know where my other Aspects are. I intend to find out what they know. Gain the advantage over my foes.” His fingers slide lower, stroking over my backside, even as the fingers on my thigh move slightly, grazing my skin in the most ticklish way. “We will find where my other Aspects hide and take our fight to them.”
“Without an army,” I point out.
“How quietly do you think we can move with an army?” Aron asks, amused. “And as the god of battle, I know which warriors I want to go into battle with, and it is not the Novorans.”
That elicits a chuckle from the other men. Okay, maybe Novoro isn’t known for its soldiers. He’s got a point. Still, a shit army beats zero army, doesn’t it?
“The Cyclopae,” Markos says. “They would make a worthy army.”
Aron nods. “That they would.”
“And already dedicated to you,” Vitar adds. “I’ve heard they remove one eye in your name when they reach adulthood.”
“More tales,” Kerren begins.
“It’s true,” Solat interrupts, speaking for the first time. “I rode with a Cyclopae barbarian for a time. They remove their left eye to honor Aron’s fight with the great dragon One-Tooth, and to prove that they only need one eye to best any man.”
“Well, that’s fucked up,” I a
Aron arches an eyebrow at me, the scarred one. “You do not approve?”
I lean in. “Can I just point something out to you, almighty lord of storms? Because I’m seeing two eyeballs in that face of yours. Your Cyclopae are go
He throws back his head and laughs, utterly pleased at my retort. His hand slides higher on my thigh, and he’s smiling as he looks over at the men. “One of you tell her.”
Kerren clears his throat. “Faith, have you not heard the story?”
“She has never asked,” Aron says, utterly amused.
Oh. He’s right, and I feel silly. Maybe I should have asked. All of his statues and his worshipers talk of a one-eyed Aron, but the man I’m with has two eyes. Aron’s smirking with pleasure like I’ve missed something obvious all along. “Am I going to hate this story?”
“Bah. It is a glorious story,” Aron says. “You will love it.”
“Thanks, Arrogance,” I tease, but I like his hand on my thigh. I want to shift my weight so that hand can slide a bit higher up. It’s so hard to try and stay still. “Okay, let’s hear it, then.”