The Betrayal of Rhiad

Part 4

He had one more day left in this city that Hadrian had begun to think of as the most beautiful place in the world. Just one more day. It was not enough.

He had spoken with as many mercenaries as he expected to find in Rhiad. It had taken some effort to meet them all. But he had done it. He'd accomplished the task set down by his father despite Caledon's constant, distracting presence in the shadows. Not that Hadrian was of a mind to protest. Whenever he felt a strong hand clasping around his arm to drag him backwards into the concealment of an alley, whenever he turned a corner to find himself face to face with the handsome blonde, it was to receive a quick, passionate kiss or a discreet caress that left Hadrian burning. He was as close to rapture as he ever expected to be. He didn't want to return to Shard's Point, ever.

The sunlight left him blinking as he exited the latest inn. Immediately a hand took hold of his elbow from behind.

"Keep walking, love."

Hadrian suppressed a smile as realized he was being led back to Caledon's inn. "So soon? That interview was only a few minutes."

"I'm quick to recover. One of my many talents."

Hadrian ducked his head, looking around from beneath his lashes to be sure no one guessed their intentions. "It's so soon . . ."

Caledon turned him around. The mercenary's blue eyes were narrowed. "Did I hurt you the last time? Are you sore? I hadn't meant to be so rough --"

The older man's obvious concern filled Hadrian with a yearning he didn't know how to explain. He reached up and caressed a tanned cheek. "No, you didn't hurt me at all. I was only teasing you." Hadrian blushed. "I enjoyed that last time. You were so . . . exuberant."

No longer worried, Caledon now looked smug. "You were rather loud that time. I was amazed no one knocked on the door to see what was the matter." He laughed when Hadrian's color deepened. "So will you let me steal you away for a few minutes? I've missed you."

Hadrian looked up from beneath his lashes. "It better be more than a few minutes," he murmured.

Caledon smirked, reaching up to cup the other man's chin. "Be careful what you wish for, love."

If you only knew, Hadrian thought, looking up at the taller man wistfully. He had never expected lust to feel this way, as though he would die if he didn't see Caledon, and yet be nearly sick with anticipation when they were together. Every breath he took was a measurement of time: the stolen moments spent with Caledon that were too painfully short -- or the agonizing moments when they were apart and every second lasted a lifetime.

Hadrian was familiar with addiction; he'd been exposed to it during his encounters with his father's worshippers, the Dimorada. This thing he felt for Caledon, it made him think of those drug-addled men and women who would give anything for another taste of their drug. Caledon was his drug. The mercenary left him high and flying. When they were apart, his absence left Hadrian pacing the borders of desperation.

To his surprise, Caledon steered him past the inn and led Hadrian away from the city's center.

"I want to take you beneath the sun," the mercenary murmured, a hint of shyness on his normally bold face. Emotion seized Hadrian's heart at the glimpse of vulnerability in the strong man. He wanted to wrap his arms around Caledon and embrace him so tightly that they became one entity. He settled with squeezing the mercenary's hand. Caledon smiled down at him as though he understood.

At the outskirts of town, the mercenary guided him to a copse of trees. Hadrian saw an occasional wooden toy discarded within the grass, the ragged end of a rope hanging from a tree. This was a place children made much use of. But thankfully, no younglings were about at this hour.

Caledon drew him down beneath the shade of a gnarled oak tree and there began to tenderly make love to him. Hadrian clutched at the grass and sighed. He dug his heels into the soil and arched beneath the other man's gentle caresses. He ran his hands over every inch of Caledon that he could reach and smiled with joy when he heard the older man groan. If this is lust, he thought, delirious, then what must love be like? He didn't think there could be much of a difference. Not when Caledon looked down at him with shining blue eyes and Hadrian imagined he could see the other man's heart there.

Love and lust. To Hadrian, they had become one and the same. Even if someone later proved him wrong, for this time, it was all he wanted.

~~~~~

Caledon was disappointed with himself. He'd managed to break only one leg of the bed he and Hadrian currently lay sprawled upon. He would have to work on his technique.

Hadrian was a drowsy warmth along his side. Caledon tightened his arm around pale shoulders and drew the younger man closer against him. Hadrian murmured in his sleep, his head pillowed on Caledon's shoulder, one leg draped across the mercenary's thighs. Caledon looked down at him as his free hand took a leisurely sweep down the slender back.

He would miss this, he realized. He would miss Hadrian. Caledon had yet to meet a more compatible lover and that was a considerable feat. Hadrian accepted Caledon's advances without protest. Truly, he received Caledon with a hunger that served to fire the mercenary to new heights. The more Caledon wanted, the more Hadrian gave until they seemed on the verge of combusting from the sheer fury of their lovemaking.

A satisfied smile curved Caledon's lips. Yes, he had well-used the younger man to no complaints, but Hadrian was still as innocent as they came. Caledon had kept his sexual explorations on the tamer side, but he could tell with every mewling gasp and moan for more that it was only a matter of time before Hadrian was ready for some experimentation. Hadrian was a banked fire that needed someone to ignite him. Caledon was more than willing to be that source of fuel.

Caledon turned his head on the pillow and looked out the window of his room. The sky was brightening from the pink light of dawn. This was the day he dreaded, the day Hadrian would leave for home. True, it would only be a fortnight before Hadrian returned with his father, but Caledon could already tell that the weeks in between would be torture for him.

"Why do you look so sad?"

Caledon smiled down at the grey gaze that blinked up at him. Hadrian's wide eyes were sleepy and soft. It was one of the mercenary's favorite sights. "You're leaving me today."

"Only for a short while."

"Even a day will be too long."

A weighted pause followed his response. Caledon, rarely nervous, felt his palms begin to sweat.

Hadrian rested his chin on Caledon's chest, hesitance on his face. "Do you -- do you really mean that? Have you enjoyed being with me as much as I've loved being with you?"

The hint of color that touched Hadrian's cheek made Caledon's spine melt. Rarely did the women he sleep with blush anymore. "I mean it, love. I've grown accustomed to your pretty face and to your pretty body and to those pretty sounds you make whenever I lick you down between --"

"Stop that!" Hadrian blurted, red-faced and flustered. He laughed. "You're incorrigible."

Caledon bent his head and kissed the tip of the younger man's nose. "And you're adorable when you're embarrassed." He tilted Hadrian's chin up. "Now kiss me. It's the surest way to shut me up."

He pressed his mouth against the younger man's, marveling as always at the softness that met his lips, the trusting yield of Hadrian's mouth beneath his own. It had been a long time since the mercenary had been trusted with anything so completely. It made him slide his arms around Hadrian's back and roll the slighter man atop him. He slipped his tongue into Hadrian's mouth and listened to him moan.

When Caledon broke the kiss, Hadrian's head dropped against the mercenary's collarbone, lashes lying thick and still upon his pale cheeks. The full puff of his lips invited the mercenary to taste him again, but Caledon resisted. He was seized with an urge to say something, to speak words he had never spoken to another lover, man or woman. He bit his tongue to stop himself. He stroked the sides of Hadrian's face, smiling at the contented expression on the fair features.

"Open your eyes, love."

Hadrian lifted his lashes and Caledon saw how the raven-black discs of his pupils consumed most of the silver irises. It was the look of desire, of lust. Maybe, of more.

"Keep looking at me," Caledon whispered.

He slid his hand down the pale body, over dips and valleys he had mapped with lips and tongue, over landscape he knew had been previously uncharted by anyone. All mine, Caledon thought, watching Hadrian's lips part when Caledon skimmed over the plump curve of his buttock.

Emotion darkened Hadrian's eyes to pewter. "What do you mean?" he said, reaching up to touch a lock of golden hair.

Caledon's heart stuttered. Had he said the words aloud? He hoped he hadn't . . . And yet, perversely, a part of him hoped that he had, and that Hadrian had understood.

"Just keep looking at me," Caledon replied, lifting his head to taste briefly of the lips he couldn't resist. "Let me see you."

He coaxed Hadrian to open his legs, guiding them fall to either side of Caledon. He slid a warm palm up the back of a shapely thigh, and he let his other hand slip between their stomachs.

"Sit up, love."

He knew Hadrian was uncomfortable with this position. But Caledon was determined to make him like it, if only for this once. Holding back his smile as Hadrian looked everywhere but at him, Caledon urged him up. The pale column of the younger man's sex rose up between them and Caledon gently folded his fingers around it. Hadrian sighed, his eyes closing as Caledon slowly stroked him from base to tip. With his hand on a rounded buttock, he encouraged Hadrian to rock his hips. After a moment, Hadrian no longer needed the guidance as his hands fell to Caledon's chest and his body rolled in rhythm into the mercenary's hand.

Caledon just watched him. He memorized the way arousal stained Hadrian's cheeks before the flush spread down his neck to the top of his chest. He studied the way the pert, pink nipples hardened into rosy stones when he ran a thumb across them, and how Hadrian bit his lip when Caledon squeezed the tiny buds. His ears filled with the sounds Hadrian's soft, panting breaths, the occasional moan he gave when Caledon rubbed his palm over the head of his cock. Caled was constructing memories. It saddened him to do it, but he knew he had to. Hadrian wouldn't be with him much longer. Only a few, precious hours.

Caledon gathered the copious liquid that now leaked from the head of Hadrian's length and slicked his fingers with it. Stroking the younger man a little faster, Caledon reached behind the pale body and delved between the spread buttocks. Hadrian's eyes flew open when the first finger scraped lightly across his opening. Then his lashes fell to half-mast as Caledon circled and teased the puckered flesh, rubbing promisingly across it, but never breaching it.

"Please, Caledon."

The whispered entreaty, something Hadrian would have been too shy to do just days before, made Caledon's cock harden.

"Please what?" he teased.

Stubbornness flashed in the grey eyes. Caledon just smirked. "You know I'm going to make you say it, so don't fight me." He squeezed Hadrian's erection, earning a throaty groan. The sound made the mercenary shift restlessly beneath him. "The longer you fight me, the longer it'll take you to get what you want. So just . . . say it."

Caledon rubbed his finger a little harder across Hadrian's opening. The tip of his finger tickled the edges, not quite sliding inside. Hadrian whimpered and clutched at Caledon's shoulders with his nails. He rolled his hips, trying to push the digit inside, but Caledon chuckled and moved his fingers back to circling the pink flesh. "Say it, love."

"You're so cruel," Hadrian panted, but there was a smile on his lips. He moaned and pushed himself down against Caledon's stiff cock. "Please, Caledon," he murmured, grey eyes swirling like a building storm as he looked down at the mercenary, "please . . . take me."

Caledon groaned and pushed two fingers into Hadrian's body. Hadrian's mouth fell open, his eyes shutting completely.

"Caledon!"

The mercenary forgot his teasing and plunged his fingers deeper into the slender body above him. Hadrian shuddered and groaned, his thighs closing around Caledon's hips as he lifted himself up and down on the fingers that impaled him. Caledon licked his lips and stroked Hadrian's length with more urgency, his own passion rising with every sign that Hadrian's was.

He was painfully hard from simply watching Hadrian. He wanted to slide his fingers out and slam himself home. But he waited, teasing, tormenting. His fingers found that spot inside the younger man that made him shudder.

"Nnnh, yes!"

Caledon bit the inside of his cheek, struggling not to find his own release as Hadrian writhed on his fingers.

"Show me how you want to ride me," Caledon said in a thickened voice. "Give me a taste, love."

Hadrian made a choked, mewling sound and rocked his hips onto Caledon's hand. Caledon pumped his fingers faster into Hadrian's tight channel, groaning a little as he felt the muscles constricting around his fingers. He rubbed hard over Hadrian's pleasure spot, pressing down on it as he simultaneously squeezed the younger man's weeping shaft.

Hadrian cried out, stiffening in Caledon's lap. Hot liquid streaked up Hadrian's stomach and dripped down onto the mercenary's chest. Caledon grabbed Hadrian by the hips and swiftly rolled them over. Hadrian looked up from the depths of the pillows, panting, his eyes heavy lidded. Caledon wanted to hide him away, to stow him someplace secret where no one would ever find him. Only Caledon's. Only his.

A rough sound caught in Caledon's throat as he lifted pale legs to his shoulders and flexed his hips forward. Hadrian bit off a cry and clutched at the mercenary's forearms. Caledon looked down at the beautiful face as it contorted into an expression of pain and pleasure. He drove himself in all the way to the hilt and felt as though he'd come finally home.

Hadrian made short work of him after that. The sight of the younger man's pale throat arched back as the dark head thrashed upon the pillows was too much for Caledon. He gripped Hadrian's legs and thrust hard and quick, short, fierce jabs that had Hadrian gasping, his grey eyes rolling up into his head.

"Gods, love," Caledon gasped. "You're so beautiful. So beautiful . . ."

And then it was too much. Caledon felt his release surge through him from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. He groaned and shoved himself as deep into Hadrian's body as he could before spilling himself into the welcoming heat. A clipped off cry from beneath him told him that he hadn't found his pleasure alone.

Hadrian pulled him down and covered his face with sloppy kisses. Caledon laughed and tried to return the same. Their lips ended up bruised, but it didn't matter.

"Caledon," Hadrian breathed against his mouth. "Oh, Caledon, I don't want to leave."

The mercenary pressed his cheek against the other man's and hugged him fiercely. "After you return here with your father, I'm going back with you."

The minute the words left his lips, he questioned his sanity. He'd not committed himself to anyone, ever. What was the use, when there were so many willing to share his bed without promises for more? But the prospect of doing this with someone else no longer seemed appealing to Caledon. Tired, well-used bodies with too much experience . . . he decided at that moment that he was through with that. He wanted to be clean again. He wanted lovemaking to be special. He laughed inwardly. What a woman he'd become! But the truth of the matter was that he wanted his innocence again.

"I'm going back with you," he repeated firmly.

When Caledon raised his head and looked into Hadrian's eyes, he saw that the dark-haired beauty knew exactly what he meant.

"You're coming back with me," Hadrian whispered. "I'm afraid to believe it."

Caledon smiled gently. "Believe it."

~~~~~

Hadrian was hurt. He didn't understand.

"I can't see you off," Caledon told him. "It's just something I can't do."

The mercenary sighed as Hadrian continued to look down at him with dark eyes. "Gods, Hadrian, you look as though I kicked your dog." Caledon ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "Just go, will you? I'll see you again in a fortnight. It won't be long. I refuse to say farewell for so inconsequential a time."

Brave words when he didn't believe them himself.

"Then you're not mad at me?"

Caledon groaned and reached up to Hadrian's tunic. He grabbed a fistful of fabric and pulled the younger man down to him. He kissed Hadrian slow and deep, using his tongue the way he knew made the younger man melt. When he pulled back, Hadrian looked on the verge of falling out of his saddle. Caledon laughed affectionately and pushed him back upright. "Still think I'm mad at you?"

Hadrian touched his lips. He smiled then, relieved and blissful in a way that Caledon knew was entirely because of him. It made the mercenary's chest swell. "Be waiting for me," Hadrian told him, gathering up the reins. He lightly touched Caledon's hair before reaching into a bag at his waist. He pulled out something and pressed it shyly into the mercenary's hand. "Until you see me again."

Caledon closed his fist and stepped back as Hadrian spurred his horse. Caledon didn't wait to watch him leave; he turned and began walking resolutely back towards the Bell &Buckle. It wasn't until the sound of hoof beats faded that Caledon opened his hand. In his palm lay a blue ribbon, twined around a lock of silky black hair.

Weakness for shadow. Someday, Caledon mused, it will be my downfall.

~~~~~

Hadrian had been gone all of eight days. Caledon wouldn't last the rest.

He was a mess and he knew it. He didn't bother to raise his head from the pillow of his forearms as a body jarred his table. If someone wanted a fight, he was in no condition to offer one.

"Gods, Caledon, will you look at yourself? I'm sorry to say, but I'm a bit ashamed to admit to knowing you."

Caledon sighed against the sticky wood and lifted his head. He blinked groggily at Tye, who was seated across from him and looking thoroughly disgusted. "Then don't admit it," he said in a hoarse voice.

Tye shook his head and tucked dirty brown hair behind on ear. "Well, seeing as I'm your best friend, I don't feel comfortable doing that." The lanky mercenary sat back in his chair and regarded his friend pityingly. "You look awful. Can you clean yourself up some? You're a damned sight."

Caledon shrugged. He didn't care what he looked like. He wasn't out to catch anyone's eye now that Hadrian had left.

"What if your boy comes back early, eh? Perhaps thinking to surprise you? He catches sight -- and wind, might I add -- of you like this and you'd better believe he'll think twice about sharing that pretty body with you."

"Shut up," Caledon grumbled, heaving himself back into his chair with a grunt. "He'd still want me. He's in love with me."

Tye raised an eyebrow. "He said that to you?"

Caledon smiled slightly. "Not exactly. But I've seen it often enough. I know the look."

"And yet this doesn't bother you," Tye said slowly, thoughtfully.

Caledon didn't even think. "Of course not."

Tye smirked then, the sight of which made Caledon's spine stiffen. "Funny, seems to me I recall that you hated it whenever a pretty lass declared that she'd lost her heart to you. You always said that love was something you didn't want from your bedmates. Love, as I recall you telling me once, was an emotion that had no business bouncing around in your bed."

A hundred glib responses found their way to Caledon's tongue. In the end, he decided to discard them all. He leaned forward and pinned his friend with a frank look. "I was wrong."

Brown eyes rounded. "By the gods. Y-you're in love with him?"

Caledon rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. He really did need to shave. "All I know is that it's killing me not to be near him right now. And when I think of the future --" Caledon felt his cheeks warm " -- he's in it."

"So you really are besotted," Tye mused. He suddenly threw back his head and let loose a loud guffaw that turned several head within the tavern. "And for a pretty boy, no less. Ah, gods, Caledon, and here I thought I knew you."

Caledon glared at him. "I'm thrilled to have surprised you."

"Damn. I wish I hadn't taken that job for Hanamon. I admit I thought your pretty friend was attractive when he met me for business, but if I'd known he'd become so important to you I would have remained."

Caledon also regretted that his best friend had left town so soon after Hadrian arrived. Given the opportunity, Hadrian and Tye would have gotten along well, he was sure of it. "No matter," he said with a careless shrug. "You'll see him again when he returns with his father. You're accepting the position, yes?"

"Ah, I don't know. I'd planned on returning home to my mother and sister." Tye winked a brown eye. "After this job for Hanamon, I've got some extra coin I'd like to give them."

"Just wait awhile," Caledon insisted. "It would mean a lot to me if you got to know him." His eyes fell away. "Maybe you'll be able to see him with clearer eyes than mine. You might be able to tell if I'm being a fool in this."

"Caledon."

He raised his eyes at the warm voice.

Tye smiled genuinely at him, no humor or mockery in it. "I've never heard you speak this way about anyone else, nor have I see you moon so. I truly doubt that what you're feeling is false. You're too experienced in these things to fall blindly."

"Perhaps you're right, but I'd like to be certain all the same. Tell me you'll stay. You don't have to accept the job with his father. I just want you to see him. "

"Alright, my friend. I'll delay my trip another week."

Caledon relaxed with a smile. This was the only thing that had picked up his spirits of late. "You won't regret this. You're going to love him," he assured the lanky mercenary.

"I hope not!" Tye said with a laugh. "I'm leaving that up to you, old man."

Caledon grinned cockily. "As long as you know your place."

Tye just groaned.

~~~~~

"You can't postpone your trip? They'll be here in two days," Caledon protested.

His thief friends, Gam and Lio, were perched atop a splintered, grey fence, tossing a coin back and forth between them. Caledon watched Lio deftly flick the coin between his fingers before tossing it across to the other man. The thieves did this two more times before Caledon reached out and snatched the coin from the air. "Are you listening to me?"

Gam rolled his hazel eye. "Your cock is besotted with that pretty thing you tossed in the loft. Yes, we understand. But our apologies, Caledon, the prospect of meeting him isn't so grand an event that it could deter us from a rather lucrative business transaction."

Caledon smirked at that. "What is it this time? Another blind trader with a cart full of precious Kenwyn glass?"

Lio frowned, affronted. "So that information was slightly off."

"He wasn't blind and he wasn't carrying Kenwyn glass."

"So?" Lio retorted, narrowing his single green eye at the mercenary. "At least we managed to salvage the hit."

"By sleeping with the trader's daughter," Caledon scoffed. "And didn't you tell me she gave you some sort of rash --"

"Oh, go away!" Lio snapped, crossing his arms in a huff.

Gam chuckled. "Look, Caledon, we'd love to meet your new interest. Really we would. I mean, the sounds he was making that night is enough to stir one's imagination --"

"Gam," the mercenary warned.

The thief attempted to look contrite. "The timing is bad, that's all. The tip we got says cinnamon is being carted to Hanta. Cinnamon! Do you know how much we could sell that for in the flatlands?" When Caledon remained unmoved, Gam hopped down from the fence and slung an arm around the taller man's shoulders. "Look, if you're all that bent on him, I'm sure we'll see him again, right? After all, you intend to be with him for the conceivable future, true?"

"Yes," Caledon replied grudgingly. He gave a disappointed sigh. "Alright. Next time. I'm traveling with him to his home so I won't see you for awhile, but I'm keeping you to your word when we come back."

Lio looked irritated still, but crossed his heart with his fingers. "If you're still with him, we'll meet him. Though what could be so infatuating about him is beyond me."

Caledon grinned. "Just you wait and see, Lio. I guarantee that even you will fall for him."

Lio scowled. "I doubt it."

"Just wait."

~~~~~

The longest fortnight in Juxtan's history had finally passed. It was nothing less than a miracle. Caledon couldn't eat breakfast and was afraid to drink for fear he'd end up sloshed just as Hadrian and his father arrived. He was a wreck and he hated it. As nervous as he'd been on his first job so many years ago, he roamed the streets of Rhiad, eyes alert for every new face that entered the streets.

"Caledon, catch!"

He speared the thrown apple on his dagger and grinned. "Well, many thanks, Mistress Alena." He sauntered over to the redhead and leaned on her fruit cart. "And how are you this lovely day?"

The girl blushed, brightening her many freckles. "Not as well as you are, Caledon. The serving girls at the B&B have started a rumor about you, you know."

Caledon grinned. "Oh, and what does it say?"

She glanced up shyly. "That you're in love."

Gods, had he been that obvious? Caledon gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yes, well, don't believe everything you hear, Mistress Alena." He winked. "Then again, maybe you should."

"Ooh, then it's true!" the girl said, clapping her hands happily. "Who is it? You must tell me! I promise I won't tell a soul. Is it Anna? Or what about Junea? I see you looking at her all the time."

Both were pretty barmaids that Caledon had bedded often enough. Neither, however, had been able to keep his interest for very long. "Sorry, love. I can't say."

Alena pouted. "That's so unfair. You're deliberately teasing me."

Caledon took a bite of the crisp apple, chewing thoughtfully. "Let me make it up to you. What's your man doing for work these days?"

"Fyen's been mending fences for Master Lewyn. Sometimes, he manages to pick up a job here and there at the docks. Why?"

"Tell Fyen to come to the Mercenary's Guild tonight. If he's interested, my friend has a job for him that will pay better than anything he's done of late."

Alena's green eyes widened. "Oh, do you think so? Fyen could really use something with decent pay. Master Lewyn misuses him something awful."

Satisfaction made Caledon feel ten feet tall. "I promise you, love: tell your man to come to the Guild and you'll both be happy that he did."

A wet kiss found its way to his cheek.

"You're such a sweetie, Caledon."

"You're welcome, love." Caledon winked. "I'm happy to do it."

~~~~~

It was probably the stupidest idea he had ever come up with. Ridiculous, even. How could he be harboring any feelings other than lust for Hadrian? By the gods, Caledon barely knew him. And what he did know about the younger man tended more towards what pleasured Hadrian physically, more than anything else.

"You've been acting like a fool," Caledon muttered to himself as he tugged on the freshly washed hem of his tunic. He patted his hair, hoping it wasn't awfully unruly. For the first time in his life, he'd spent coin on a hair tonic. His face still burned at the memory. "Hadrian was a delightful tumble. Nothing more. Don't overreact. You're not ruled by your cock, are you?"

Of course not. Caledon ni Agthon was his own man. He did what he wanted and to whom he wanted and no one returned the favor. No one could say that they'd ever bent Caledon to their whims. No one could claim to have held anything other than his brief, sexual interest. He didn't parcel himself out that way. Oh, no. Caledon ni Agthon was not easy.

Oh, but he felt easy. Caledon closed his eyes and let his head roll forward on his neck, trying to ease the ache of tension that had been steadily mounting as the day progressed. Hadrian and his father were in town at this very moment and Caledon felt like heaving up the contents of his stomach.

Horrible, emasculating thoughts assailed him. What if Hadrian was no longer interested in him? What if the younger man returned and after seeing him, Caledon realized he no longer felt that spark of attraction? What if Caledon had spent this past fortnight creating a relationship that didn't exist except in his mind?

Caledon groaned aloud. "My biggest fear has come true." He slapped his forehead. "I've turned into a woman."

Disgusted with himself, Caledon self-consciously straightened his belt and continued walking down the street. He could see the unusual number of horses tied up outside the large building that housed the Mercenary's Guild. Excitement and trepidation made his pulse run.

A gust of wind ruffled his hair. Cursing, he tried to pat down the somewhat stiff golden spikes. Blasted merchant, he thought in irritation. He'd said this wouldn't make my hair harden up! He suddenly realized what he'd been thinking and groaned again. Gods, he was worried about his hair, of all things! Defiantly, Caledon raked his fingers through the stiff mass atop his head. Who cares what his hair looked like? He was a man. A mercenary. He was expected to look a little rough. But as he paused at the doors of the Guild, he couldn't help patting down a few wayward strands.

Pathetic.

He pulled at the heavy doors. They didn't budge. He took a deep breath and tried again, pulling at the scarred iron handles. They shifted slightly, then stopped, as though locked from inside.

Gods, was he that late for the meeting?

"You idiot," he cursed himself, jogging around the building. He hadn't wanted to be obvious, had wanted to salvage some dignity by not being the first to show up even though he'd wanted to be there hours ago, waiting breathlessly for Hadrian to return. Caledon had his pride. He wanted to keep some of it. Maybe he shouldn't have worried so much about that.

The Guild was a large building and he crossed some distance before he came to the side door that was rarely used. He pushed experimentally on the door and sighed in relief when it easily swung inwards.

Pausing on the threshold, he decided to quit fooling himself. Now that the initial fear of being locked out of the meeting had faded, Caledon could no longer pretend that he wasn't anxious to see the younger man. He needed to see Hadrian like he needed to see the sun every morning. Smiling somewhat stupidly, he slipped inside the building.

He was in one of the halls that led to the Guild's backrooms. It was here, in these hidden rooms, that the guild masters did their unsavory business. It was dark, but he could see the light of the main room ahead. The sounds of many raised voices quickened his step. So close.

But to his frustration and dismay, his way was blocked by a wall of men spilling out from the main room into the hall. For them to have needed to stand this far back meant that well over a hundred mercenaries must be filling the room. Caledon grinned in approval. Hadrian had done his job well.

Perhaps too well. His smile faded when he realized he was unable to push into the room. Mercenaries were not a type to yield kindly. Caledon didn't even bother trying to push his way through. He wasn't in the mood for a fight. He moved along the line of men until he found a thin gap between which he could see the front of the room, where a dais stretched along its length.

There were three men standing on the rise. Caledon's lips curled into a sneer when he recognized one of the handful of greedy, unscrupulous guild masters. The fat man -- why were they always fat? -- was rubbing his hands with obvious avarice, eager for his cut for bringing so many mercenaries here. Caledon's eyes skittered away from that unpleasant sight, moving onto a tall, imposing figure in white robes that stood beside him. He took in the man's midnight black hair streaked with distinctive strands of silver and the cleanly cut black beard that framed a strong, stubborn jaw. Even before Caledon saw the man's eyes -- crystalline silver -- he knew who this man was.

He wanted to feel a rush of kinship with the man. Here was Hadrian's father, the man who had raised him. And yet, when Caledon looked into the hard, imposing expression on the man's face he felt a chill of unease pass over his skin. This was the man who had left Hadrian unused to touch. This was the man whose love was so insubstantial that Hadrian didn't recognize the emotion even though Caledon had seen it clearly in the other man's eyes. Caledon wanted to like him, for Hadrian's sake. But studying the cold, somewhat arrogant lines of the man's face, Caledon realized it was going to take a considerable effort to warm up to the man.

Unhappy with this realization, he let his eyes fall to the man's left. It was like stepping from a snowstorm to be enveloped by a thick, warm blanket. Caledon smiled, uncaring that he looked like a lovesick fool. He'd harbored a small, but substantial fear that his remembrance of Hadrian had been false. It was not. Hadrian was still as beautiful and pale as an ice sculpture glittering in the sun of the mercenary's memories. Caledon's heart swelled. Now that he'd seen Hadrian again, he couldn't deny the truth: Caledon was in love with him.

Caledon stood taller with pride as he gazed at the object of his heart's affections. He knew without looking that most eyes in the room were on Hadrian. He didn't blame his fellow mercenaries. Hadrian was a gem in Rhiad, utterly priceless. But he was Caledon's gem and the mercenary looked forward to the time spent after the meeting when he could remind the younger man of that very fact.

Caledon strained to the tips of his boots, trying to make himself visible above the crowd. He waved his hand, trying to catch Hadrian's attention. But Hadrian was looking at the floor of the dais, his grey eyes blank. His expression, like a wall of ice, bothered Caledon somewhat, but he chalked it up to nervousness. Perhaps he was unused to being in front of so large a crowd. Caledon glanced at Hadrian's father again. Or perhaps there were other reasons. The man was unquestioningly intimidating as he spoke, his smooth, cultured voice seeping over them all like a heavy pall.

"I thank you all for taking the time to be here," Hadrian's father said. "I am Gavedon ni Leyanon. It is by my invitation that you are here."

A small murmur began at the far end of the room. Caledon was unsure of the disturbance. He was trying not be perturbed by the fact that Gavedon hadn't bothered to introduce his son.

Gavedon smiled. He was a handsome man, Caledon would give him that. Hadrian would probably age to look much like him, though with the softer touches to his face that Caledon now realized must have come from Hadrian's mother. But though Gavedon was attractive, his looks held a curious emptiness. To Caledon, he was like a cold glass window that looked upon a shadowed room.

"I see that some of you recognize my name," Gavedon continued, still smiling.

Uncomfortable with the man's smile, Caledon spared a look at the crowd of mercenaries. He saw young Fyen, Alena's man, at the side of the room, looking eager and excited at the prospect of well-paying work. Caledon smiled to see him. Towards the front, near the dais, Caledon spied Tye. There was a frown of mistrust on Tye's face.

Troubled by his friend's expression, Caledon returned his attention to the dais. Hadrian remained looking at the floor, for all the world looking as though he were in a trance. Unease built within Caledon. Years spent listening to his instincts had him double-checking his route down the hallway to see that it was clear. He mentally shook himself. There was nothing to fear here. He was in a room full of heavily-armed, well-trained men.

"For those who do not know me," Gavedon continued, "let me introduce myself. I am the Gavedon ni Leyanon, who founded the Order of the White Shard. It is by the Order's business that you are here. I have no need for an army of mercenaries. I have no need of any of you at all."

Sorcery!

The word rolled through the crowd like a tumbleweed. Caledon's eyes shot to Hadrian. A sick feeling was beginning to burn in his stomach.

"What are you, a mage in disguise? Or worse, a sorcerer?"

Hadrian laughed thinly. "Would that be so bad?"

Caledon shook his head. He closed his ears to the increasingly agitated murmurs from the crowd. They were mistaken . . . A sudden shout from the back of the room made all eyes turn around.

"The doors are locked! What treachery is this?!"

"No," Caledon whispered in denial. He knew at once that more was amiss here than he comprehended.

"Thank you again for coming, gentlemen," Gavedon said, his voice remaining smooth and controlled despite the rising shouting and the pounding against the doors. "You've made my task a much easier one."

Through the shouting and jostling as men began to push for the door, Caledon heard Gavedon speak to Hadrian. "It is time," he said to his son. For the first time since his father had begun speaking, Hadrian raised his face. His eyes were as hard and dull as stone as they looked out upon the throng. He spoke a single word: "Fire," and the nightmare began.

Caledon had never seen sorcery at work. He didn't know that fire could be conjured from the air, that it could roll out like a twitching, golden rug and swamp the line of men in its path. Screams filled the air; smoke began to rise up to the high ceilings. Caledon stared aghast as he saw men burst into flame, clothes and hair streaming with fire. A mad rush began for the doors. Men were trampled in the frenzy. Some were crushed against the walls. The stench of burning meat and hair began to thicken the air and when Caledon caught whiff of it, he bent and gagged.

More flame filled the room, flaring to reach from wall to wall. Caledon retreated back into the dark hallway, avoiding the stampeding mercenaries as they sought the main doors. The air above the crowd shimmered with heat and smoke. Choking and retching on the smells, Caledon peered through the undulating air at the dais.

Even in spite of all that was occurring before his very eyes, Caledon refused to believe what was happening. This was a mistake. A dream. Hadrian was an innocent, the most harmless creature Caledon had ever come across. Surely this was some trick of his imagination. It had to be.

But he found Hadrian and his father still in place. And although Hadrian's beautiful face was untouched by the stress and trauma of what was happening before him, Caledon could read his lips forming the same word over and over: fire.

Caledon wanted to scream his denial. Hadrian couldn't be a sorcerer. It was impossible. Yet his memory held those bits of conversation whose meaning Caledon hadn't looked deeper into. He remembered all of those claims Hadrian had made about how capable he was of taking care of himself despite lacking skill with a weapon. Had he thought Hadrian was bluffing? Hadrian, as had become perfectly, painfully clear, had been telling the truth.

Rage filled Caledon. Betrayal. He looked with wild eyes at his fellows -- friends he had spent most of his life with -- as they howled and screamed as they were consumed by sorcerous fire. His hand went to a dagger and he hefted it, wanting to hurl it with all his might at the men on the dais. But before he could cock his arm back for the throw, a wall of flame swept towards him. He dove into the hallway and felt the heat sear his back, singeing his hair. He gasped against the floor, finding the air too thin and smoky to fill his lungs. Choking, he climbed to his feet and staggered down the hallway.

He burst through the door and coughed in the crisp evening air. From the front of the Guild he heard the doors bang open as the mercenaries finally smashed through it. Greasy black smoke spilled out into the street, trailing like greedy fingers after the men who ran from the building. Some were bloodied from the trampling inside. Some -- oh, gods -- were hideously burned or on fire, collapsing to the dirt to roll in it.

Caledon limped towards them, looking for Tye. Just as he reached the front of the building, a ball of fire burst from the front doors. Screams rent the air as the mercantile across the street from the Guild exploded into flame. Shopkeepers and customers ran out only to be drenched in scalding fire as it burst from the Guild again.

"Gods!" Caledon cried, his voice cracked. These were people he knew, people he spoke with every day and they were burning. "Over here!" he shouted at a young woman who'd lost her sense of direction in her panic. "Over here!"

She turned to him, a brief relief clearing her horrified face. She started towards him when a tongue of flame licked out and wrapped itself around her. Caledon's screamed echoed the woman's as she pinwheeled away, batting at the flames that blackened her skin.

Caledon sobbed and tore at his hair. He needed to find Tye. He needed to get his friend out of here. . .

"Fire!"

Caledon spun on his heels, nearly tripping in his fear. Gavedon and Hadrian had exited through the front doors of the burning Guild. Behind them, the roof of the building crashed down in an explosion of wood and flame. Gagging, Caledon staggered backwards, throwing himself around the corner of a tavern. He watched the two dark-haired men split up, heading in opposite directions down the street. Hadrian was heading his way.

Caledon lost his mind then. Rage flooded his veins, making him shake so hard his limbs threatened to tear off.

"Hadrian!" he screamed, storming out into the street. "What are you doing?!"

Caledon sobbed, wiping at his soot stained face as tears of anger and grief threatened to blind him. "You bastard!" he cried out, his voice cracking. "Why? Oh, gods, why are you doing this? Tell me why?"

He choked on his own tears. Strength left him and he fell to his knees. Hadrian's blank gaze fell on Caledon then passed over him as though he didn't exist.

"Fire," he said again.

Caledon fell onto his back as a cloud of flame roared over him. He covered his face with his arms as fiery heat threatened to burn off his skin. Above him, he heard more agonized screaming. Wood cracked and snapped as more buildings caught on fire. A deafening roar shook the ground as the mercantile collapsed into a heap of flaming wreckage.

Caledon rolled over and coughed into the dust. When he managed to raise his head, Hadrian had turned away from him and was sending fire after a group of fleeing mercenaries. Caledon knew those men. He'd played cards with them only yesterday. Run, he thought desperately. Please get away.

But fire knocked them down like wooden toys. Their bodies burned just as easily.

Caledon wept into the dirt. This was his fault. He had brought these men here, he had encouraged them -- gods, he had overcome their reservations and pressured them to be here. He knew in his heart that Fyen must be dead. Ah, gods, Alena, forgive me . . . As for his best friend --

His thoughts seemed to magickally summon Tye. Caledon looked up with wide eyes as he heard a familiar voice scream from down the street.

"You won't get away with this, you murderer!"

Caledon looked on in rising horror. "Tye, don't!"

But his best friend, mad with grief, didn't hear him. Tye rushed at Hadrian's back with his sword drawn, tears streaked down his smoke-smudged face. When Caledon felt a spark of fear for Hadrian, the mercenary ground his teeth in self-hatred. No mercy! No mercy for him!

But any fear for the sorcerer was wasted. Caledon should have known better, he realized bitterly. Tye didn't get within ten feet of Hadrian before the sorcerer calmly turned and blasted the mercenary full on with a fist of fire.

Tye's mellow brown eyes burned black. His mouth opened in a scream that was swallowed by the roaring flame around him. His head was a cap of fire. His limbs were flailing ribbons of gold. He spun once before collapsing to the dirt where his body twitched and smoldered.

It was the last thing Caledon saw before he went mad. Shrieking Tye's name, he lurched to his feet and sprinted towards the smoking lump in the street. He didn't care that Hadrian turned towards him. He didn't care that the soulless silver gaze was pinned upon him. Let me die. Burn me. Flame rushed past Caledon, so close to him that his clothes smoked. The force of the shooting fire lifted him off his feet. He crashed into some discarded kegs beside the ruins of what had once been a notary and he lay there, moaning in pain.

Consciousness flickered teasingly. He heard sounds he never wanted to hear again -- the screams of those being burned alive, the wails of those watching their loved ones die. The air was so thick with the stench of fire and death that he thought it would never leave his lungs; he would breathe the horrible miasma forever.

Time passed for Caledon without his knowledge.

Gradually, his wits cleared. He blinked painfully, slowly realizing where he lay. Like an old man, he crawled on hands and knees out of the refuse towards the street. He saw no sign of either Hadrian or his father. What buildings that had stood here on this street had been reduced to smoking heaps of charcoal. For the first time since Rhiad's founding, Caledon could see all the way to the docks. Not a building still stood to impede his view.

And what a view it was. Black and grey smoke hung like storm clouds over what remained of the city. Some parts of the sky were lit gold and yellow by fires that yet blazed on the ground. Sparks flew up periodically as fire-weakened buildings collapsed to the ground.

Caledon became aware of the weeping, a soft wail like the haunting cry of a thousand mourning spirits. So, there were some who had been left alive. It was a small mercy after what Caledon had seen this night.

He stood on shaky limbs, unafraid that Hadrian or his father would see him and come finish him off. Caledon no longer feared death. He no longer feared a lot of things. A part of him that had once held space for feelings of love and hope was now empty, seared clean by the sorcerous fires that had razed his city. Into that cavernous space he poured his anger, his despair, and his fury. He stirred that pot of hatred until it churned. He fanned its flames as surely as the sorcerers had fanned the flames of their destruction.

Caledon turned his eyes to the burned out sky above him and he made a vow. He would find Hadrian and his father. He would hunt them down though it cost him his life and the lives of those around him. He would carve out Gavedon's heart and he would feed it to the man. And when he found Hadrian . . .

Caledon bent at the waist, his body wracked with heaves. When he found Hadrian, he would exact a revenge upon him that befitted the lives of those who were lost here. Killing his father would only be the first step. The first, of many bitter ones.

"I will not sully the name of ni Agthon with what I do now in my course for revenge," he said in a hoarse, smoke-ravaged voice. He coughed and spit up dark phlegm. "From this day forth, I will answer to Caled." His voice rose in volume. "I will be the bane of Gavedon ni Leyanon and his offspring!" His voice cracked, the tissues of his throat tearing. "I will hunt them to the ends of the land!" he continued in an hysterical shout. "Do you hear me? I will make them pay!"

Weeping, Caled dropped to his knees. His nails dug bloody furrows in his palm. "I will make them pay," he whispered brokenly, staring at his burning city. "They will pay."

A lock of black hair, bound by a ribbon, fell from his tunic and lay upon the ground, burned and smoking. Caled stared at it with empty eyes. With a hand that trembled, he pulled his dagger free and stabbed it into the symbol of his love.

The End

To be continued in "The Wind on Shard's Point"