The Downs (12 page)

Rig didn’t take this treatment passively. He moaned and squirmed. He petted whatever parts of Enitan he could reach, the rough skin of his finger pads scratching deliciously. And when Enitan moved down a bit more to taste the salty musk of his balls, Rig splayed his legs wantonly and canted his hips.

But Enitan didn’t stop there. He laved the points of Rig’s hips and the seams where his legs met torso. His tongue was tickled by the hairs on Rig’s powerful thighs and long shins. He even nibbled just a bit at the tender skin behind Rig’s knees.

Finally, when neither of them could stand the torture a moment longer, Enitan worked his way back up and slipped Rig’s cock into his mouth.
Yes
. Heavy and slick on his tongue, so swollen with blood that Enitan felt the beat of Rig’s pulse. Enitan suckled near the tip so he could savor Rig’s fluids, and then allowed the length to slip deeper into him until he had to swallow around the thickness. He wasn’t exactly comfortable; he had to blink away a few tears. But he was so enraptured with the little thrusts of Rig’s hips and the steady, ragged cries from his throat, that Enitan completely ignored the throbbing of his own cock. He lost himself in Rig’s pleasure.

He was interrupted by a hard, desperate tug of his hair. “Eni… Gods, Eni. I want to taste you too. Please.”

A request he couldn’t refuse.

Enitan had to release Rig from his mouth to reposition himself, and that was a shame. But he scrambled quickly into place, sprawled on top of Rig with his mouth at Rig’s groin and Rig’s at his. With a satisfied little grunt, Rig immediately grasped Enitan’s dick and began to lick it, while the blunt forefinger of his other hand caressed the tender skin behind Enitan’s balls. It felt so wonderful that Enitan nearly forgot what he’d been doing— until Rig made a needy little sound that reminded him.

By unspoken agreement, they drew things out as long as possible, each of them pausing for a moment when the other man got too close to the edge. But then Enitan recalled his recent lesson— falling over the edge was a good thing— and increased the vigor of his actions. He once again swallowed Rig to the root and then bobbed his head as he fondled Rig’s tight balls.

Probably less accustomed to another man in his mouth, Rig couldn’t take him all the way in. But he alternately tongued at Enitan’s slit and sucked on the entire crown, and when he inserted a spit-dampened finger into Enitan’s sphincter, it was the beginning of the end. Enitan squeezed his eyes shut as his climax rushed through him. Rig came with him, filling Enitan’s mouth with his spend, sending them both into a loop of pure bliss.

Sated and huddled together under the blanket, they continued to pet and kiss each other until they finally slipped into sleep.

****

Chapter Twelve

Rig saw the city first. Perhaps he had sharper eyes. More likely, though, Enitan was staring at the ground instead of ahead. The closer they came to their destination, the heavier the ball of dread in his stomach. He did not remotely feel like a triumphant hero about to wreak vengeance on his enemy.

“It’s… big,” Rig said, staring at the mass of square white structures. They were holding hands again.

“Not as tall as your forest.”

“You could put my entire village in there and nobody would even notice.”

“Oh, they’d notice,” Enitan said with a forced laugh. Nobody in the city had ever seen a building made of wood. He had a strange thought: what would Minna think of the Downs? Would she be horrified by how uncivilized it was? Terrified of all the dangers it possessed? She wouldn’t see the beauty of it. The thick trees reaching skyward, smelling of life. The cool, clear water of the lake. The bright colors of the birds, insects, fish, and reptiles— even the deadly ones. The wild calls of the amorous night sprites. The melancholy, defiant magnificence of the house Rig was building with his own two hands. And gods, the spirit of the huge, scarred man who saved those who fell.

“We should clean up before we enter the city,” Enitan said, probably louder than was necessary.

Rig glanced down at himself. Like Enitan’s, his clothes were heavily soiled, his skin grimy, his hair disheveled, and his cheeks stubbled. And they both undoubtedly reeked of sex. “We look disreputable,” Rig said, sounding amused.

“We do. And… I don’t have the mark on my forehead anymore, thanks to you, so people won’t know just from looking at me that I’ve been banished. But even clean, our clothing will stand out. And let’s face it— you’d be conspicuous no matter what you wore.”

“Yes,” Rig agreed, stroking the scars on his face.

“Even without them. You’re an impressive chunk of manhood.”

He was even more impressive when he gave his lopsided smile and his eyes lit up. “Am I?”

Enitan playfully squeezed Rig’s ass. “Very.” Then he sobered. “We’ll never make it to my— to Minna’s house in this shape. Someone will stop us.”

Rig’s smiled faded and his expression turned grim. “What will you do when you get there?”

Honestly, Enitan didn’t know the details. Ever since he’d faced Minna’s betrayal, he’d imagined all sorts of grand, theatrical scenarios. But over the past few weeks, those scenarios had faded. Now he had no idea what he’d do. “Revenge,” he muttered.

Although Rig had no problem expressing himself verbally, sometimes he could give an entire speech without saying a word. He did that now, and Enitan had to look away.

“I won’t hurt anyone,” Rig finally said. “I won’t leave you, and I’ll protect you as well as I can, but I won’t hurt anyone.”

“Good,” Enitan answered, meaning it most sincerely. It was bad enough he’d dragged Rig out of the Downs— he didn’t want to push him into destruction.

Enitan scratched his itchy hair. “We’ll detour to the north of the city, where we can wash in one of the rivers. The water runs clean there.” And a detour— a slight delay of the end— felt like a reprieve instead of an interference.

****

It took them most of the day to reach the closer river. Maybe they would have gotten there sooner if Rig hadn’t kept pausing to exclaim over the size of the city. The childlike wonder would have charmed Enitan if he hadn’t been nearly sick with dread. In any case, by the time they reached the sinuous waterway, the sky was tinged red and purple by the setting sun and they decided their bathing— and the end of their journey— could wait another day. They stripped off their clothes, though, and scrubbed them in the river, then spread them on the riverbank to dry.

“This is a pretty spot,” Rig commented.

It was. The dry grass of the Reach had turned soft and green, spotted with small yellow flowers. The river burbled happily— unaware of its fate once it reached the city— and the mountains rose steeply to the north, crowned with white snow.

“I’ve never been here before,” Enitan admitted. “I hardly ever left the city.”

“Why?”

“People don’t. I guess I assumed nothing worthwhile existed anywhere else.” He ran his hand down Rig’s arm. “I was so wrong.”

That night they made love again, Enitan entering Rig’s body with nothing but spit and precome for lubrication. But it certainly wasn’t pain that made Rig howl at the stars.

Afterward they lay huddled together, and Enitan didn’t sleep. He wanted to be awake for every last minute of Rig’s skin against his.

****

The river water felt wonderful as it sluiced the filth from Enitan’s body. So at first he couldn’t understand Rig’s reluctance to wade in past his knees. Then Enitan realized what was happening and laughed. “There aren’t any dragonfish here. Or trancebeetles or anything else to worry about. The current can be fairly swift near the middle, though, so be careful if you don’t swim well. And there’s a lot of silt.”

“I don’t swim at all.” Rig proceeded a little farther into the water, stopping when it reached his waist.

Enitan wasn’t very skilled at it himself, but he stayed close to Rig, just in case. They didn’t have any soap, so they took turns scrubbing each other with their hands— enjoying the opportunity to stroke all that glorious bare skin— until finally they were both pink and thoroughly clean. Back on shore, they took turns with Rig’s razor, then pulled on their clothes.

“Do we look slightly more reputable?” Rig asked.

“As good as we’re going to get.” He waited for Rig to shoulder his pack before grabbing his hand as they started their walk toward the city.

“Don’t you want some breakfast?”

Enitan shook his head. His stomach was in such a hard knot; he couldn’t possibly eat. “But I’ll wait if you want some.”

“I don’t.”

At one time, perhaps hundreds of years ago, a wall had ringed the city. But whatever threats existed then had eventually disappeared. Some sections of the wall had been incorporated into houses and other buildings, and most of the rest had fallen into ruin. The ancient gates still existed, however— huge arches that had once been guarded but now stood perpetually open, serving no purpose but to mark the city’s edge. Rig gawked as they passed through the north gate, and Enitan held his hand more tightly.

Although it was early, crowds already clogged the streets. Food vendors called out to passersby. Men and women trudged to their workplaces, many of them eating as they walked. Shopkeepers set up displays. Tradespeople carried packages or pushed carts, children scurried, servants toted empty bags for the morning shopping, wealthy people strolled. And everybody stared at Enitan and Rig. The city dwellers couldn’t have known where the oddly dressed duo had come from— nobody would even imagine men rising up from the Downs— but they surely wondered at the unusual sight.

Rig clearly made an effort to keep his chin up and back straight, but his palm sweated heavily and his breathing was harsh. Enitan gave him a gentle smile and linked their arms instead. “Nothing deadly,” he reminded Rig.

“No demons?”

Gods, Enitan loved this man! “Only in my head.”

Enitan’s house— dammit!
Minna
’s house— was near the center of the city. It wasn’t the poshest neighborhood, but it was fairly upscale. Although the house was only a few minutes’ walk from the Council Hall, it was quite a trek from the north gate; and with so many people in the streets, the journey was slow. When they came to a narrow archway, Enitan steered Rig through, down a crushed stone path, and to a bench. They sat.

Rig took a few deep breaths before looking around curiously at the spindly trees and lackluster flowers. “What is this place?”

“A park. People come here to relax and enjoy… nature.”

A raised eyebrow showed Rig’s opinion.

“Yes, I know,” Enitan sighed. “But it’s all the nature they have. Some parks are bigger than this, with more complicated plantings, maybe a fountain and some statues. But dressed like this, we’d be evicted from those parks right away.”

“The parks are… not for everyone?”

This was hard to explain since people in the Downs didn’t use money and, for the most part, apparently shared their talents and their belongings. “In the city, if you’re rich, you can have whatever you want. If you’re poor…” He shrugged.

“You were rich.”

“My family was, yes.”

“And if your father truly had disinherited you and then died naturally? Or if you’d simply walked away? How would you have survived?”

Enitan rubbed his face. “I don’t know. Maybe I would have fought for money. People do.”

“You were trapped.”

“I wasn’t…” He scrubbed his face again before clasping his hands in his lap. When he’d lived in the city, he’d never considered himself trapped. After all, he had whatever he wanted. Well, almost whatever he wanted. He’d thought of Minna’s heavy thumb as an annoyance, but he’d never truly contemplated leaving the family. Instead, he’d countered her controlling behavior with petty disobedience— which had undoubtedly added to her infuriation and her determination to dominate him.

But after he fell to the Downs, once Rig had fully healed him, Enitan no longer had to worry about being poor. He could have remained with Rig. He could have walked to the village and lived there, contributing in some way to the general livelihood. Nobody would have complained that his behavior was unseemly and unfitting for someone of his status. Nobody would have chased his lover away.

Gods, Minna’s betrayal had freed him, and he hadn’t realized it until just now.

But now was too late. He’d already left the Downs. This time he’d closed the trap on himself.

“I’m unredeemable.”

Rig’s answering growl was pure frustration. “There’s nothing to redeem. Your mother died when you were a baby, your father was too busy with his work, and your sister was still just a child herself. You were a lonely little boy desperate for affection.”

“I grew up.”

“Into a lonely man desperate for affection— and with no idea how to get it. You took all the attention and all the contact you could find. Through fighting and sex. Through exasperating Minna. You never needed redemption, Eni. You needed love.”

Enitan closed his eyes tightly. Love. But look what he’d done with love when he’d been given it— abandoned it, lured it into danger.

“Let’s go,” Enitan said, abruptly standing. Rig obeyed wordlessly.

As they walked the last several blocks to his old home, Enitan did not feel righteous and victorious. He was tired and sad.

“You don’t have to do this,” Rig whispered to him.

Enitan’s response came out almost as a sob. “She murdered my father.”

“And nothing you do will bring him back.”

Enitan didn’t answer.

He’d never invested much thought into the details of how to break into his family home. Really, he’d never given much thought to
any
details, had he? So now he dragged Rig into a shadowed space between the two houses across the street, and he tried to exercise his sluggish brain.

“It’s pretty,” Rig said. “I like the statues.” He was referring to a pair of yaley-beasts that flanked the stairs leading to the front door. Enitan had always liked them too. When he was a boy, he’d named them Abenu and Ajinu and whispered to them and patted them whenever he passed by.