The Shepherds of the Sunstone: Book One - Sunstone Saga (The Sunstone Saga 1) by Nicolin Odel

Author:Nicolin Odel [Odel, Nicolin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-07-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter nineteen

Formulate

Simon yawned and stretched. Developing the right mixture for the sandstone blocks took a day and a half. A day and a half of no sleep at all. Twenty percent sand. Thirty percent was a silver-tinge ground-up shale. Twenty percent random crushed stone and the remaining thirty percent water.

“Skrull’s boiled balls,” Simon cursed as the mixture seeped through the bamboo form. “Too much damn water! Get another load!” he shouted at his men. “Let’s try it again!”

His men, also quite fed up, having attempted this process numerous times over the last day, grumbled and retorted.

“Give it a rest, ya!” one of his men retorted irately. “Let’s have a break? Ya, boss?”

“We are this close, Ilan.” Simon held his fingers up in a pinching motion. “We are going to succeed this time; I know it.”

“You can succeed by sittin’ your pretty little arse down on my lap, ya.” Ilan grinned wide at him, revealing a dark gap where a tooth should have been. Laughter rippled through the other men.

By the Primus’s teachings, only a man and a woman could partake of one another. Dagad was far from the capital of Aurulan, so many did not bother to follow these teachings. Myself included. Really, what kind of all-powerful being preaches to love all beings yet orders Skrull to take any sinner to hell who disobeys His dogma? Simon’s mother, Teresa, was a devoted follower of the Primus and would take Simon to the temple twice weekly, saying the same prayers monotonously, ‘I accept the Primus as the creator of all beings.’ Simon would say the word and act the follower, only to keep his mother happy. I faked it until her deathbed to not break her poor heart. Not long before his mother's passing, he knew of his attraction to both men and women. Yet another secret kept from dear Mother.

“If we get this damned mixture right now, I swear on my life. I will sit on your pretty little prick,” Simon finally answered, realizing his mind had sidetracked into the realm of theology.

Religions aside, many of his workers were openly engaged with those of the same gender as themselves. He often caught them heckling passing guardsmen or younger errand boys who strayed too close to their work sites. For the most part, they would direct their fervor at Simon. Even the men with wives or other women as their only partners would join the jeering.

Ilan raised his eyebrows. “Little? I’ll show you little, ya!” Ilan turned to the workmen, “Well, you heard him, boys? Let’s get this damned block done, else I’ll lose my chance at sir boss’s delicate arse, ya?” He stretched, rubbing a hand over his stubbly head of chestnut hair.

Simon eyed the man with amusement. Then, with a sigh, he returned to his makeshift headquarters. Once they had figured the mixture out, there was still a plethora of work to do. Ilan would have to wait. Though Simon didn’t think ill of the idea, he could use a bit of pleasure in this fool’s pit of an undertaking tasked upon him.

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