“Sleep,” I whispered to him. “You are safe.”
He seemed to accept my words, closing his eyes again, though his body remained stiff in my hold until sleep eventually claimed him, and he relaxed again. I was grateful for the words I’d learned through years of guarding tributes on their journey to the clans. They seemed to help him relax. Sharing my warmth with him was no hardship, and I let myself drift again, content in knowing he was warm and protected.
When I woke again, the sun had begun to rise and low voices spoke from outside the wagon. I thought to get up to join them, I was always an early riser, but reconsidered when I shifted andmy charge snuggled closer, still using my bodyheat to stay warm. It would be cruel of me to take that from him. Instead, I studied his face, taking in his beauty. He had been covered in mud when we first met. I’d tried to clean him a little after tending to his wounds, but a proper bath would be needed to truly get him clean. Still, the mud did nothing to diminish his appearance. His soft brown hair fell to his ears in waves, and I had seen him tuck it back a time or two the night prior. He was slender in frame, with pale skin and petal pink lips. And on his nose and cheeks was a light dusting of freckles I’d thought was mud until I cleaned his face and saw them more clearly. The addition was sweet, and I found myself reaching to touch them gently. None of my brothers had such marks. I liked them. They added to his allure.
He stirred at my touch, his eyes blinking open slowly, still fogged with sleep. When he looked up at me, it seemed to take him a moment to realize where he was. His eyes widened, and his face flushed, and he jerked away to put distance between us, nearly knocking into Simon in his haste to escape. I snatched him back, leaning close to whisper in his ear.
“Be easy. To wake Simon is to ask for trouble. He is dangerous woken.”
He nodded shakily, more careful when he pushed away from me. I allowed him his space, ensuring he didn’t bump Simon, and sat up when he did. The tiny pink haired man was not one to be trifled with, especially when he was woken before he was ready. His bondmate, Feigrind, had warned us all about his little menace, and I got to experience his wrath firsthand when I was too noisy one morning when waking. He threatened to remove my manhood if I did so again, and with the blades he always kept on himself, I chose to take the threat seriously. I was more cautious now about waking him.
With measured movements so as not to rock the wagon, I helped my newest charge out and ushered him to the fire where he could get warm. There were a few people awake already, and Einar and Matthew were missing, likely getting rest some distance away. Einar the Feral would not rest easy amongst the group. I greeted the townspeople who had joined us from the towns we had visited before and realized belatedly that I never introduced myself to the man who had spent the night wrapped in my arms. I fed him first and sat beside him, pointing to my chest and saying my name.
“Tyos.”
He blinked, his mouth full of food, and took a moment to chew and swallow before answering me. “Is that your name?”
I nodded, gesturing at him. “You?”
Clearing his throat, he straightened a little. “Arlen. Alren Whittaker.”
Another townsperson who sat on the other side of the fire snorted and shook her head. “They don’t use surnames. Given name, then their clan. No surnames.”
“Oh,” Arlen frowned. “Just Arlen, then.”
She leaned across the gap, offering a hand to shake. “Melanie. That big bear over there is my husband, Bram.” She pointed to the quiet man with the bushy beard more interested in his food than the conversation.
I cocked my head with a frown. “Husband?”
While I wasn’t against the idea of helping couples leave for better prospects, I had been under the impression that most of those traveling with us were those who preferred same sex couplings.
She gave me a small smile. “We grew up together. We both knew we couldn’t consummate real marriages, so we married each other and lied. It worked out for both of us, because no one was brave enough to question him.”
“Ah. I understand.”
It still surprised me how dangerous it was for the townspeople to be honest about their interests in same sex relationships. I hadn’t even thought to ask about that until I met a male tribute for the first time. It was why we were doing this journey, so that men and women who were too afraid to live freely had the choice to start over somewhere new where they could be safe. It was a smart plan to marry to disguise that interest to stay safe.
Arlen seemed to agree, nodding his head. “It’s a good plan. I might have considered it if I trusted anyone in my town enough to be honest about my affliction.”
That was a word I wasn’t familiar with, and Uttin, who had come to join us, looked just as confused as I felt. It made me feel a little better, since his common tongue was much better than mine was.
“Affliction?” Uttin asked.
Arlen’s shoulders lifted by his ears, his face red and his voice small when he spoke. “You know… my… interests…”
Turning to Uttin, I asked him in our tongue, “Do you know that word?”
He nodded, still frowning. “I do, but it is usually used in terms of illness. I have never heard it regarding romantic interest.” He switched to the common tongue. “Do you think your interests are illness?”
Arlen shrank a little, his face bright red. Melanie spoke up for him, moving to sit beside him and rub his shoulder. “We were all taught to think like that. It’s wrong in the towns. A sin. Punishable by death in some places, banishment or shunning in others. They’ve gotten worse recently too. I was so glad I had Bram because anyone unwed at a certain age looked suspicious in our town. The way they were treated was awful.”
Looking up from his lap, Arlen added, “I’m pretty sure the only reason my town wanted me to stay was because I was the only decent tailor in town. I think the mayor knew of my–” He almost said that word again, then corrected himself with a frown “–interests. He might have seen keeping me around as a punishment in and of itself, since I would spend my life alone if I had stayed.”
Melanie hummed in agreement, and Bram’s face twitched, betraying his disgust over Arlen’s treatment for just a moment before he masked it again.
I was going to ask if Arlen thought there were others in his town who wished to escape when the sound of hoofbeats drew my attention. I pulled out my sword from where I had rested it against the log, jumping to my feet just as Uttin did the same. Dras leapt from the middle wagon at the same time, the three of us moving toward the source of the noise headed in our direction.
A cloud of dust marked their approach, coming from the direction of Arlen’s town. A sense of foreboding settled over me. If it was them, they would bring trouble for us. Letting out a low whistle to alert the others, I readied myself to protect our charges. I would not allow any of my charges to come to harm. Especially not Arlen. He’d suffered enough at the hands of his people.