Tarsus by J. C. Owens

Author:J. C. Owens
Language: eng
Format: mobi, azw3, epub
Tags: gay fantasy romance, m/m romance
ISBN: 9781941692707
Publisher: Etopia Press
Published: 2015-04-15T03:00:00+00:00

* * *

The weather turned shortly afterwards, a warm wind sweeping through the valley and bringing about melting and inconvenient floods. Ice and snow under the meltwater dammed the flow, and much work was needed to chip it away and provide channels away from buildings and granaries. It was hard work, divided into shifts, and the gossip revolved around the concern that this would open the mountain passes to the minotaurs, two months earlier than had been hoped.

The reinforcements from the south, from the capital city, were not due until the roads were free. For now they were cut off. A worse time for warm weather could not be imagined.

Anxious eyes were trained on the mountains, and the nighttime guard was doubled, Varan driving everyone unmercifully. His instincts were fairly screaming at him, and his own anxiety was clearly transmitting itself to the troops.

He had no problem with that.

Better to realize the seriousness of the situation than to wake one night with the enemy on top of them.

The forges were hard at work, mending armor, weapons. Varan had ordered new spears, swords and arrowheads, and all the troops were going over their own items, preparing.

The reinforcements would be bringing up new supplies, and no doubt would be carrying the items of war. But Varan was not willing to wait. If there was any time the minotaurs would see an advantage, it would be now, when the centauran army lay at half strength and cut off from any aid.

He could only hope the queen would decide to force a march despite the weather. Dangerous it might be, but the alternative was far worse.

Still, she was not of a war-like background, and he could only pray that Nalain could persuade her of the likelihood of attack.

If not, they were on their own.

Varan strode out onto the vast western wall, nodding to the sentries as he passed, though his eyes were fixed upon a small figure pressed between two of the embrasures.

His hooves seemed loud on the stone, but the young centaur did not look back, did not move even when Varan laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

The snow was back, wind-driven and wild, cloaking the valley.

At the lack of response, he shook gently, before cupping Tarsus’s chin and turning his head to see his expression.

The boy looked dazed, as though his thoughts were far from his body, far from Varan. The commander found himself leaning down, laying a kiss upon those pink lips, trying to bring him back.

Tarsus blinked, then drew in a sharp breath, staring up at Varan with wide eyes.

“I feel them, sir. They are coming.”

Varan frowned, his grip on his lover’s face tightening unconsciously until Tarsus flinched.

“What? Do not make up…”

Tarsus grasped at him, face pale and drawn. “I know what I felt. The goddess speaks to me, and I saw them.” He pointed a long, delicate finger to the northwest, toward the smallest of the passes, the least likely to be used for an assault.

“From there, I feel them, close by, the storm is hiding them.

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