The Rusted Sword by R.D. Hero

Author:R.D. Hero [Hero, R.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: M/M romance, fantasy
Publisher: Less Than Three Press, LLC
Published: 2014-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

*~*~*

That night at the welcoming dinner, Raleigh and Moshe sat with Frederick at the head table. Most of the guests had arrived by then, and the hall was packed. People were flushed with pleasure and alcohol, most of them even more cheery because their long journeys were over. Observing them idly, Raleigh shifted in his chair, yearning already to return to the stoic halls of Chaylain.

At that thought, he frowned. Even as he watched the guests, his ear was trained towards Moshe and Frederick, who were speaking together amiably. Moshe's words were lacking their usual icy bite, which only meant he was already well on his way towards drunkenness.

Raleigh was almost loath to look at him and witness Moshe flourishing in the company of all these people, especially Frederick. He did not need any reminder that he had taken Moshe away from all this, or rather that he had taken all of this away from Moshe. Now that he was in Marvle-Dein again with its jovial atmosphere, he could truly see how isolated Chaylain was.

"And what are you sulking about?" Frederick was grinning at him from beside Moshe. Their chairs were angled towards each other, both seeming mid deep conversation. Moshe was on the other side of Frederick. When he had sat there, Raleigh had nearly reprimanded him for such obvious insolence, but backed away from doing so as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

Raleigh afforded him a thin smile. "Not sulking, cousin. Mourning the lack of peace and quiet."

Scoffing, Frederick rose his glass to his lips. "Not all of us prefer to live mountain strongholds and eschew all human contact, Raleigh."

If there was an underlying meaning to those words, Raleigh chose not to acknowledge it. He had noticed how Frederick had tipped his head towards Moshe as he spoke, and how Moshe had pointedly stayed out of the conversation, focusing on his food. His obvious avoidance prickled deep in Raleigh, chipped away at already worn confidence. What would Raleigh do if Moshe ever voiced his desire to leave Chaylain for good?

"Perhaps," Raleigh said darkly.

Frederick gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder, and then turned back to Moshe. "I must say, there turnout this year is far greater than last. It must be because you've come."

"Oh?" Moshe replied innocently, but there was a glint in his eye.

"Quite a few of the young lads are eager to see you fight, Moshe. They've heard the stories."

"Stories from when I was young myself," Moshe replied, quirking a wry eyebrow as he took a sip of his wine.

Raleigh's voice rumbled as he cut in, "You are as dangerous as you ever were."

Both Frederick and Moshe considered him, Frederick smiling while nodding in agreement while Moshe's expression was less obvious. It was closed off, even. Raleigh felt like a fool imparting such praise on the clearly unwilling. Setting his jaw mulishly, he focused his attentions on his plate. He heard Frederick chuckle. "And you are still built like an ox, cousin. I doubt your opponents are feeling very confident now that they've seen you in person.

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