Warrior, Renewed: Book Two of the Comhairle Chronicles

Chapter Eleven: The Hermit and the Hanged Man

The photocopier clanked and rustled as Eallair waited for the last set of print-outs showing an artist’s rendition of Quintus Sextius Ambustus to land in the tray. He had to admit, Tor could draw, even when only basing his work on Tancred’s reluctant, unhappy, growled descriptions. But then his friend had always had the patience and skill for illustration, even though his father had seen art as a useless waste of time for a son of Dubh. Don’t draw, don’t read poetry, or fantasy, and only read approved history books, don’t get accepted to a mortal school at university, don’t train as a warrior, only marry a woman approved by your parents, don’t step out of line... He’d had so many overbearing rules, and Eallair had no idea how Tor had kept his cool for as long as he had. He might have gone on trying to keep it if his father hadn’t insulted Deòthas, but that had been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Eallair couldn’t blame him. As he looked down on the approximation of Tancred’s abuser’s face, he understood why Tor had almost throttled his own father. Ifrinn, he wanted to throttle Ambustus even though he'd only developed a ridiculous school-boy crush on Tancred. With the depth of connection Tor and Deòthas had, any slight must have felt like an unacceptable insult.

In all honesty, it made him relieved that he couldn’t manage anything more than a one-night stand. He doubted he had the fortitude to deal with everything that came from finding a mate; the intensity, the fetters that bound two people so tightly they could lose themselves entirely to rage or despair if they tried to resist.

Anyway, could gay people even get god-granted mates? He had no idea. He’d never heard of any but then he’d never actually known anyone with a sacred mate, not before Tor found Deòthas. They were rare even amongst straight bhampairean. Tor and Deòthas were the exception not the rule, and he felt relieved about that. He could continue on as he always had. Fucking without consequence... Unless he died in Tallamarbh when he faced the trials.

“You’re in you own head again,” he grumbled to himself as the photocopier deposited the last sheet and he picked up the pile of illustrations. “You need to get out of your head. Why are you even thinking about mates when you damn well know you don’t want one?”

“Do you regularly talk to yourself,” an amused voice said behind him. “Or is it only when you’re photocopying?”

He spun towards Deòthas’s father, heat rushing up his neck and across his face as he blinked at the ancient captain who also happened to be Tancred’s oldest friend. “Corvinus, sir. No, not usually, not even when photocopying.”

“Is there a specific mate you don’t want or is this a generic statement?” the black haired and silver eyed man asked, still looking amused. “Did our medic make so much of an impression that you need to persuade yourself of the fact.”

If anything, that only made Eallair’s face burn hotter. “It was a general statement. I don’t do relationships. Not ever. I couldn’t be as beholden to someone as Tor and Deòthas are. I’m pleased for them but it’s not for me. Not if I have a choice.”

“Mates tend not to have a choice,” Corvinus reminded him. “But they’re also rare enough that I suspect you’re safe. Especially if you pass the trials. I’ve only ever known of two ghaisgich mated couples in two thousand years. If the gods see fit to bless us with warrior tattoos, it’s unlikely they’ll also give us those of mates. I doubt you have much to fear.”

“And for that, I’ll be eternally grateful,” Eallair insisted as he made to squeeze past the captain; one of the many tall, broad warrior types that populated Bothal Castle. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m supposed to get these to the chief.”

Corvinus nodded but then he hesitated, debating something internally before murmuring, “Take care of him out there, eh? He’s... as much my brother as Tor is yours. He deserves to have someone watch his six even though he’d never admit as much himself. Just don’t tell him I said that.”