Page 1 of The Concubine King
CHAPTER ONE
The unharvested rye shimmered gold in the morning sun like an ocean of fine silk.Next to it, the stubbled fields of cut stalks looked more bleak and devastating than encouraging.Ethyr knew a bountiful harvest meant a safe winter, and sore muscles from days of hard work should have been satisfying, but to him it signaled only the death of beauty and life.Winter was waking, and when it stepped out of hibernation it would bring cold, dead darkness.
He finished tying his bundle of stalks and shouldered it to take to the dry-house.In a corner of Nivian’s field, she and Mikel swept their scythes through the last remaining rye in rhythmic, even strokes.Ethyr paused, wiping sweat dripping down the side of his face onto the shoulder of his sleeveless tunic.Mikel wore a sleeveless too, and the defined lines of his arms, muscles stretching and flexing as he worked, were made all the more distracting by glistening sweat.
“Ethyr!”
He jolted to attention at his uncle’s voice and scrambled to catch up to him at the dry-house.Standing in the doorway, bent nearly double to fit under the low awning, Tebhen held out his hands and Ethyr handed the bundle over to be laid with the rest.
“Tomorrow is our field,” his uncle said as he stepped back out, shielding his eyes from the sun to look at their rye standing tall beside its razed brethren.
“We finished early,” Ethyr pointed out.
Tebhen propped his hands on his hips.“We were talking of tasting Miya’s new brew.”
Drinking meant boisterous chatter and lewd jokes.Ethyr scrunched one side of his mouth up.“I think I’ll go for a walk.”
Tebhen sighed, surveying the landscape.“Make sure to be back to help Deian with supper.”
“Yes, Uncle, I promise.”Ethyr bowed his head before taking off between the huts.Chickens pecking in the dirt path flapped out of his way as he rushed through, and the surly rooster chased him down the street growling a low, angry rumble until satisfied that Ethyr was far enough away to no longer be a nuisance to his hens.
Ethyr slowed as the hamlet diminished to a small pond of thatched roofs in the distance.He twisted a plum from the tree beside the short stone wall, glanced around, then hopped over the stones into the forest.
It was much nicer in its shade, surrounded by vibrant greenery and the smell of earth kept damp in its shelter.He wandered through the sun-dappled quiet, filled only with the hum of insects, his footsteps rustling on fallen leaves, and the occasional punctuation of a loud shout or child’s shriek from the village.
The lone magpie that had lived on the edge of the forest his whole life watched him from its usual perch on an old alder bough; the rest of the forest didn’t like venturing too close to human activity.Ethyr couldn’t blame them, when they had the expanse of seemingly-endless trees to occupy.If he had been allowed to venture inside, he would have spent all of his time in its depths as well.
His walk looped him around the harvested crops to the untouched fields.He ate the plum to its pit and tossed it, then climbed over the wall and loped across the strip of untilled land to the standing rye.He carried the absent wind in his fingers as he drifted through the feathery stalks.They swayed under his touch, bobbing back into place behind him.
A calloused hand wrapped around his ankle and yanked it forward, his ass hitting the ground before he could register the touch.
Mikel laughed at his startled yelp, rolling to his back from where he had been lying in wait.Ethyr rubbed his sore tailbone with one hand and smacked him with the other.
“Not funny!That hurt, you know!”
“Ohh, I couldn’t help it.”Mikel twisted to his side, propping his chin up and offering a devilishly handsome grin.“You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
Ethyr glared at him, but he couldn’t hold on to the fake anger for long.He dropped onto his elbow beside Mikel, leaning closer.
“I wonder if you can guess the fruit I just ate,” he challenged.
Mikel’s grin softened to an intrigued smile and he closed the space between them.Ethyr opened his mouth to let Mikel’s tongue venture inside, rubbing against his own and sweeping across the roof of his mouth, along the backs of his teeth.
Mikel pulled away, smacking his lips and squinting in thought.“A berry of some kind.”
“Nope,” Ethyr said, lips spreading to a gleeful smile.Mikel met them again, this time probing deeper, more thoroughly.Ethyr sucked on his tongue—to help him, of course.
He broke away again.“Plum?”he guessed.
Ethyr laughed.“You won!”He raised his eyebrows.“Can you guess your prize?”
Mikel ran a palm up Ethyr’s jaw and into his hair, grazing their mouths together.“No need,” he murmured.“I’ll take what I want.”
Ethyr lowered his shoulders to the ground and Mikel followed, planting short kisses onto his mouth, his cheeks.He wrapped his arms over Mikel’s shoulders and caught his lips to force the kiss deeper.Mikel’s hand, rough and warm, dug harder into his hair as they traded tongues.
He broke away after a minute, looking down at Ethyr with a heavy exhale.His eyes traced his face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
