Dayn armallah

12. Revelation

It was a strangely long, glorious autumn. Winter was approaching, but it seemed to be toying with us. Even though the days grew steadily shorter and the nights darker, morning after morning we ducked out of the cabins only to squint at blinding sunshine that peered over treetops and warmed the slightly frosted village again. Nobody complained, though; we knew well enough that we'd have quite enough of darkness, cold and misery before the next spring, and that it was therefore best to enjoy this clear spell as long as it lasted.

I soon ceased to worry for the prince and Golden Deer, but my uneasiness didn't disappear. It just changed, transformed from a chill somewhere deep inside me into a different but not any less disconcerting feeling that I couldn't name. As if there was something hanging in the air whenever my two masters were around, a buzz, a tingling. I seemed to develop a sixth sense that made the hair on my nape stand up whenever one of them was around, and especially when they both approached.

It certainly was not threat, because there was nothing in their behavior to suggest animosity. Rather on the contrary: they were increasingly close, and if they earlier had needed a word to understand each other, now a mere twitch of an eyebrow seemed enough. They had also developed other quirks that genuinely astonished me – the prince's quiet but seemingly constant good humor being perhaps the most interesting of them. He was still his silent, aloof self, and yet I could tell that he was less uptight, more relaxed. I was relieved to see that, to notice that he was obviously sleeping better, but at the same time I couldn't help feeling jealous. What was it that Golden Deer had but I couldn't give him?

At least part of the answer came on one crisp morning, when I was blowing alternately on my fingers to warm them and into the fledgling fire that was gathering strength in the fireplace in front of the hut. I heard noise from behind the cabins and frowned to myself, but the voices didn't sound frightened or panicked so I went on with my chores. A few moments later I heard quick steps, and glancing up I saw Alaish who was skipping towards me, eyes wide and round.

"Good morning, Tarisha!" He jumped over the log bench and huddled on it, pulled his knees against his chest and hugged them close with a dramatic shiver. "They are quite crazy, did you know that?"

"Who are crazy?" I asked, busily feeding more dry sticks and grass to the fire.

"Father and Golden Deer!" He shook his blond head. "Brrrr, and the water is so cold too..."

"What are they doing then?" I sat on another log, satisfied with how the fire was catching up.

"Playing games!" Alaish rolled his eyes and giggled. "In the water!"

"What are you talking about?" I couldn't believe my ears, but the boy nodded energetically.

"They are splashing water around, and Golden Deer was trying to trip father and press him under, but father caught him around the knees so that he fell into the water, too!" Alaish laughed heartily, then shuddered again. "They are crazy, aren't they? Maybe they are going to bathe in the brook even when the winter comes?"

I didn't know whether I should dash away to make sure that Alaish hadn't been mistaken about the degree of friendliness of that particular game, or just stay put and pretend to be completely at ease. But the choice was taken out of my hands: before I could do either, I heard laughter and footsteps from behind the corner, and a blink later my masters appeared.

They sure were a sight. The air was chilly, but they were naked save for the coarse towels wrapped around their hips, carrying their clothing in a bundle on one arm. They were also soaking wet, from long hair to bare feet, and grinning ferociously to each other.

My jaw dropped a few inches as I just sat there and stared at them. Droplets glittered on bare skin and I knew they had to be cold, but neither of them seemed to pay any attention to it as they dropped the clothes on the ground and began to dry themselves. I swallowed hard and turned my eyes away, not exactly knowing why. I just knew that looking at their naked bodies was at the same time a nearly irresistible temptation and something to make me feel extremely embarrassed. I couldn't understand this sudden shyness. As if I hadn't seen them both naked before!

The fire was beginning to burn brighter, it demanded my attention, and I was relieved to concentrate once more on the breakfast, although I couldn't help stealing peeks at the two men. Alaish was openly watching them, looking very sage as he sat there cross-legged, leaning elbows on his knees. I noticed with a start that his legs and arms seemed an awful lot longer and slimmer than they had in the previous spring; the boy was truly beginning to grow up. How old was he now, thirteen?

Golden Deer sat down and shook his luxurious mane back, but another pair of hands grabbed the thick mass and picked the comb from his fingers. I swallowed again as I watched how the prince began to untangle it, methodically, section by section. Golden Deer's eyes drifted closed, as if he didn't feel the cool air at all, or perhaps the by now happily crackling fire was indeed warming him enough. The prince had wrapped a towel around his own bare shoulders, a small almost-smile was playing on his lips all the while as he combed and braided the deep red-brown hair and tied it properly. Golden Deer stood up and took the comb from the prince.

"Now you," he said. "Sit down."

I was hard put to appear unaffected but had to try anyway, because I simply did not comprehend what it was that was making my hands tremble. I realized once more that I envied Golden Deer bitterly as he repaid the favor to the prince, fingers expertly separating blond tresses into smaller sections through which the comb was soon easily gliding. I had done that many times, happy to hear how the prince sighed and relaxed, listening to my touch on his hair. Yes, I envied Golden Deer, who could get so close to the prince while I could not, not any more.

Alaish was unusually silent, just watching. His dark eyes glittered, his lips were slightly parted, as if he, too, were seeing or feeling something in the air. I handed him a bowl of porridge and he accepted it eagerly, fingers curling around the rounded clay for warmth. I got a quick smile of thanks, then his bright gaze returned once more to his oblivious father.

"Have you hurt yourself, father?" he asked suddenly. The prince cracked his eyes open and peered at the boy from under his lashes.

"What do you mean, Alaish?"

"That." Alaish swiped a finger along his own neck. "You've got a bruise there."

He was right, too. I should've been mortified for not noticing it before, but then, I'd been trying very hard not to look at them. Yes, there was a clear bruise at the base of the prince's neck, just high enough so that he couldn't see it himself even though he tried. Golden Deer peered over his shoulder and arched a dark eyebrow, clacked his tongue.

"Oh, you have maybe got it from a tree branch," he said, and there was something so meaningful, so smug about his small smile that my breath caught briefly.

"Probably a tree branch," the prince echoed lazily. "I think."

Alaish looked at them over the rim of his bowl and nodded. "Right," he said. "But you should be more careful, father. It won't do that you hurt yourself like that."

"I will be, Alaish," the prince said. "Don't worry."

I frowned at the pot. What in the Holy Mother's name was going on? I decided that I'd get a hold of Alaish at some point and try to make him talk – obviously he knew something I didn't. The only problem was just that the boy was elusive as an eel if he wanted to, and I definitely wasn't going to enter the priestesses' dwelling in search of him. So, if I couldn't catch him alone, I'd have to forget about it.

I didn't forget about it, but I never got the chance to ask anything. The day passed quickly, night fell once more, and finally an ember sputtering in the fire startled me into the reality that it was really getting too dark to do anything any more. After my masters had finished their dinner and retired to their cabin, I'd taken up my handicraft and completely lost myself into it. Golden Deer had taught me to work leather in the Forester way, working pieces together by lacing thin leather strings through holes in them, and I found the task both useful and endlessly absorbing. But now it was certainly time to cover the embers and accept the fact that the light was too meager for me to go on, even with the moon nearly full and the sky cloudless.

I was already almost on my way when I thought I heard something. I stopped and pricked my ears. Had there been a sound from the prince's cabin? I crept closer, all of a sudden gripped by an ice-cold fear, holding my breath in an effort to hear better. Yes, for sure there was a sound again. What was it?

Perhaps the door for once didn't creak as I pushed it open, or maybe I was too nervous and they too oblivious. Whatever the reason, they didn't hear me as I peered inside and froze solid. The cabin was dark, but they hadn't closed the small vent flap up on the wall and a stripe of the moon's pale whiteness poured down on the men inside. Perhaps the shock allowed me to see even in the dark, for I could swear that I saw them altogether more clearly than I really should have, or maybe it was just my imagination filling in what I could only guess.

The prince was half sitting on the bed, leaning on one elbow, head thrown back. White light shone over his chest and bare stomach and dove into the dark mass of hair that hid his hips and Golden Deer's shoulders from sight. But I could see the prince's hand that was grabbing the Forester's head, the splayed fingers, the legs that clasped the darker man's torso on both sides. Golden Deer's arms were around the prince's waist, I saw his head move, I saw muscles ripple and knot in the prince's stomach, and I heard Golden Deer hum low in his throat. Merilion's every exhalation was a raw moan, his hand was rhythmically tightening and opening in the Forester's hair, and I knew I had to pull myself away from this trance right now because I had to get some air into my lungs.

I closed my eyes and stumbled backwards, somehow pulling the door closed after me. It must have made a sound but I didn't care, didn't even look back as I groped my way around the cabin, towards the stores and animal sheds. I had to get somewhere, to hide, to be alone for a moment. I couldn't go to the old King now.

I got safely away from the cabins, behind a cluster of storehouses, before my legs gave in. I sank on my knees on the cold ground and knocked my head against the wooden wall so hard that I gasped. But that wasn't the only reason why I was gasping, not by a long way. I knew very clearly what I had seen and wanted to hit my head on the wall a few more times, much harder, because I couldn't understand how the possibility hadn't occurred to me any earlier.

Wasn't that what I had dreamed of, myself, if I would just honestly admit it? I just hadn't had the courage to even hint at anything, with words or deeds. I had done nothing when I'd still had the chance. Not even the argument that I hadn't known what the prince would think of it managed to console me much. Golden Deer couldn't have known, either, yet there he was – naked in the prince's cabin, embracing and kissing and pleasuring an equally naked Merilion. He had ventured where I had not, and was now reaping the rewards. Or perhaps it was the prince who had ventured? How did I know?

I was trembling throughout as I opened my trousers enough to slip one hand in. My fingers were cold and felt twice as cold against hot, swollen flesh. Cold and heavenly. So inadequate. I crunched my eyes closed and bit my lip not to cry as I stroked myself in the darkness, hard and rough, almost hard enough to hurt. I imagined what the prince was feeling as those lips closed around him. What the wet hot mouth had to feel like. How the tongue would swirl and squeeze and rub. How teeth might graze, just a little...

I shuddered, eyes flying open, as I spilled myself into my own hand and instantly felt bad – sticky, wet, cold, miserable. Alone. My legs didn't want to bear my meager weight as I scrambled up against the wall and wiped myself clean as best I could. But still I smelled it, the hot bittersweet scent of my own seed. Of lust.

I had to wash myself. There was no way I could go to sleep next to the old King like this.

I trudged slowly back towards the houses, towards the fire I'd been tending in front of the prince's cabin. I knew there might still be a little warm water left, or at least the water wouldn't be straight from the brook. And then it struck me: Alaish had to know, or at least guess. That was why he had looked so smug in the morning; why he had pointed out the bruised mark on his father's neck. He had probably seen something while the two had been involved in their watery horseplay. Maybe a kiss, maybe a wayward touch, something to let him guess enough.

I washed myself with unsteady hands, all the time stealing glances towards the cabin of my master. Everything was quiet around me now, there was no one to see my grimace as the nearly cold water touched burning skin. Finally I sighed and turned away.

I was aching to go in, and at the same time I was already dreading the morning, the moment when I'd have to face the prince and Golden Deer again.