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“I am sure there is.”
“They say you are saving your seed for tonight when you will cover her here in the coupling grove.”
“Ah yes,” Damon seems awkward at the suggestion. “Yes, that is what is expected of me. Lyr, I…”
“Damon?” Lyr is still holding Damon’s hand in his lap. Damon stares at Lyr for a moment and then Lyr gasps when Damon moves, swinging one big thigh over Lyr’s body to straddle him.
Lyr’s breath catches as he looks up into Damon’s face. His back is against the tree. Damon’s heavy body is on top of him. He is pinned in place. “Master,” he says quietly. Then again, more breathy, soaked with desire, “Master. We should not.”
“You do not give me orders, slave,” Damon replies in a tone that makes Lyr hard against Damon’s thighs. Damon lifts an eyebrow, “Do you?”
“No, Master,” Lyr says, writhing under Damon’s body.
“No.” And Damon leans in and kisses him.
It’s not a long kiss, not as passionate as others they have shared. Damon breaks it quickly, leaving Lyr panting. “Tonight, when you see me covering my wife in this grove, I will be thinking of you, only you, when I spend.”
“Master,” Lyr breathes.
Damon leans back. He’s still on top of Lyr. He looks at him, and, after a long pause, he says, “Ah, but even with you in my thoughts, I will not enjoy tonight. Lying with Inez is my duty. I must do it. Sooner or later. Why not tonight?” Damon swallows. “But everyone present must couple for the glory of Zai. Someone will lie with you.”
“Me?”
“Everyone will couple. Including servants, including slaves. It is the way of it.”
“I do not think I would like that. ”
Damon nods. “Because of Jareleezi? Because of what she made you do?”
“Maybe a little, but mostly I think I would not like to lie with someone who wasn’t you.”
“You do not fear that I would hurt you or treat you cruelly like Jareleezi?”
Lyr shakes his head. He thinks that he would not hate it if Damon did hurt him, just a little, made him feel his passion with teeth and nails. He reaches up and puts a hand on Damon’s cheek. It’s prickly under his palm. “Not like her. You could not be more different from her. You are not a violent man. I can tell.”
This makes Damon laugh a strange laugh of disbelief. “Lyr, truly… Lyr, I am a violent man. I am soaked in blood. I own you because of violent acts. I have killed many.”
But Lyr shakes his head. Of this he is certain. “You were made a violent man. But it is not your heart. You became a great warrior because you did not wish to die in your own blood and shit.”
“Lyr.”
“Master.”
Damon leans in and kisses Lyr again, for longer this time, and this time, Lyr can feel all of Damon’s desire, can taste it on his tongue. But Damon still breaks the kiss with Lyr panting for more.
“There can be no more than that. Not now,” says Damon, resting his forehead against Lyr’s, “But know this. We will find out where Jareleezi has gone. I will take you to Vashti. I will commit every sin of the body with you.”
Back in the kitchen, there is bustle everywhere. Kres chastises Lyr for vanishing in the middle of such a busy morning, but the cook sticks up for him, saying, “No, have you forgotten? Master Damon wanted to speak with him.”
Mina is a ball of excited energy. In a reasonably quiet voice, she says, “Did he take you?”
Lyr blushes and shakes his head.
Mina then says that, at the feast, Lyr should make sure he sits near her. “It will be wild. The Feast of Surrus is my favourite of the year. I’m so glad we’re marking it here. I love Surrus. She’s my favourite Sidu.”
They work hard late into the afternoon, creating more and more elaborate dishes for the feast. The cook gets stressed and snappy and easy with smacks from her wooden spoon as the table grows laden with songbird pies and piles of honeyed gooseberries, spice cakes and mutton and barley stew and nuts and fruits and roots with butter.
The fish Lyr collected is an elaborate centrepiece. The sturgeon baked with almonds and green leaves, the salmon poached in butter and the lampreys baked into an enormous pie.
