some of the selfish goblin remained in him, because he saw no need to take up the yoke again. He’d be his own man, in every sense of the word.
“I’d like the chance to know this new man.”
Meryn looked at his cousin and couldn’t deny that he’d like to know more about what had happened. He wanted to hear Decangli spoken again and find out how many years had passed. He wanted to know how the others were living, but tonight wasn’t the night. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll visit again.”
Dai stepped back, and then he was gone, vanished as if taken by the shadows clinging to the trees. Meryn walked around the fire to where Dai had stood. Faint impressions remained in the dirt but they, and the bag, were the only signs that his cousin had even visited.
Around him, the forest was silent except for the sounds of animals waking. For a man used to the weighty silence of the Shadowlands, each noise made him jump like a nervous colt. Yet it was reassuring. He was surrounded by life. Even the sky was full. Stars dotted the darkness—the first he’d seen in many years and not one constellation he recognized. He was so far from home in every aspect.
Meryn placed some extra wood on the small fire and held his fingers toward the warmth. The pack Dai had left lay on the ground, waiting to be examined. After a moment’s hesitation, he gave into curiosity and pulled the contents out. Clothes and soap and other bits…and food in neat little packages. Hunger won and he ate, careful to ration what was there for a couple of days. It was so good to be eating something different, he almost wished he’d gone with his cousin, but he couldn’t let his belly do his thinking for him.
When he was done, he took a drink from the bottle of water Dai had included in the pack, then lay down. The ground was cold, but unlike the Shadowlands, it didn’t suck the heat from his body. Here he was able to relax. He closed his eyes, knowing that when sleep came his dreams wouldn’t be peaceful. The cut on his hand was a reminder that they were more than dreams and he had to be careful.
He listened to the popping of the wood as it burned, the smell so different from what he’d grown up with, and the rustling of the trees around him. The movements of small animals in the night was more familiar than the eerie silence of the Shadowlands, even though he had spent many years there as a goblin. Just being back in the Fixed Realm was bringing back the memories of his life as a man. He ignored the ones that hurt and dragged up the happy ones. He could almost imagine himself home—back in the forests of his youth and the easy summers before the Romans had come and the battles had begun. But even before the Romans had reached the lands of the Decangli, refugees from other tribes had swelled their numbers. The Silures’ Princess, Idella, amongst them.
“Come on, Meryn. I won’t tell. No one will know.” Idella tugged on his hand, leading him farther away from the fires and the watching eyes of the tribe.
“I will know. One more day, Idella. Then we will have a lifetime.”
She grinned, her teeth white in the moonlight. One of her fingers traced the swell and curve of her breast. His eyes followed as if spellbound. He couldn’t resist her. His fingers curled but didn’t move from his side. He had asked for this marriage and had sworn not to dishonor her—or his family—before it was formalized. They’d had to wait to see if her father could be reached. Her brother, the new King of the Silures, had sent message that he welcomed an alliance with the Decangli. Some suspected he’d sent his sister away for more than her own safety and Meryn had fallen into the very beautiful trap. He was glad his cousin Roan and future king was only eleven and not yet a man, or he might have lost Idella to a better alliance.
She took his hand and used it to cover her breast. “Can you wait one more night?”
Meryn swallowed; he wanted her now, and
“I’d like the chance to know this new man.”
Meryn looked at his cousin and couldn’t deny that he’d like to know more about what had happened. He wanted to hear Decangli spoken again and find out how many years had passed. He wanted to know how the others were living, but tonight wasn’t the night. “Thank you for coming.”
“I’ll visit again.”
Dai stepped back, and then he was gone, vanished as if taken by the shadows clinging to the trees. Meryn walked around the fire to where Dai had stood. Faint impressions remained in the dirt but they, and the bag, were the only signs that his cousin had even visited.
Around him, the forest was silent except for the sounds of animals waking. For a man used to the weighty silence of the Shadowlands, each noise made him jump like a nervous colt. Yet it was reassuring. He was surrounded by life. Even the sky was full. Stars dotted the darkness—the first he’d seen in many years and not one constellation he recognized. He was so far from home in every aspect.
Meryn placed some extra wood on the small fire and held his fingers toward the warmth. The pack Dai had left lay on the ground, waiting to be examined. After a moment’s hesitation, he gave into curiosity and pulled the contents out. Clothes and soap and other bits…and food in neat little packages. Hunger won and he ate, careful to ration what was there for a couple of days. It was so good to be eating something different, he almost wished he’d gone with his cousin, but he couldn’t let his belly do his thinking for him.
When he was done, he took a drink from the bottle of water Dai had included in the pack, then lay down. The ground was cold, but unlike the Shadowlands, it didn’t suck the heat from his body. Here he was able to relax. He closed his eyes, knowing that when sleep came his dreams wouldn’t be peaceful. The cut on his hand was a reminder that they were more than dreams and he had to be careful.
He listened to the popping of the wood as it burned, the smell so different from what he’d grown up with, and the rustling of the trees around him. The movements of small animals in the night was more familiar than the eerie silence of the Shadowlands, even though he had spent many years there as a goblin. Just being back in the Fixed Realm was bringing back the memories of his life as a man. He ignored the ones that hurt and dragged up the happy ones. He could almost imagine himself home—back in the forests of his youth and the easy summers before the Romans had come and the battles had begun. But even before the Romans had reached the lands of the Decangli, refugees from other tribes had swelled their numbers. The Silures’ Princess, Idella, amongst them.
“Come on, Meryn. I won’t tell. No one will know.” Idella tugged on his hand, leading him farther away from the fires and the watching eyes of the tribe.
“I will know. One more day, Idella. Then we will have a lifetime.”
She grinned, her teeth white in the moonlight. One of her fingers traced the swell and curve of her breast. His eyes followed as if spellbound. He couldn’t resist her. His fingers curled but didn’t move from his side. He had asked for this marriage and had sworn not to dishonor her—or his family—before it was formalized. They’d had to wait to see if her father could be reached. Her brother, the new King of the Silures, had sent message that he welcomed an alliance with the Decangli. Some suspected he’d sent his sister away for more than her own safety and Meryn had fallen into the very beautiful trap. He was glad his cousin Roan and future king was only eleven and not yet a man, or he might have lost Idella to a better alliance.
She took his hand and used it to cover her breast. “Can you wait one more night?”
Meryn swallowed; he wanted her now, and
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