Into the North: A Dark MM Historical Romance by Amber Huxley

Author:Amber Huxley [Huxley, Amber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-11-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Marcus

The morning they were set to leave for the games, the village was a frenzy of activity. Men, women, and children rushed about, piling goods into carts and packing horses with traveling supplies. Only minutes after Agnar’s naked chest had rolled onto him and the barbarian’s lips had found his did he urge him to wake and set about helping.

Everywhere he went, Marcus heard others calling for Agnar. The barbarian was everywhere, helping lift barrels of ale, hitch horses, and load food and trade goods into the wagons. He could hardly finish one task before another would call him from somewhere else. Marcus did what he could, trying to take some of the burden off Agnar’s shoulders whenever the villagers would allow him to help. His offers were met by one of two reactions—either they thrust items into his arms as if they were his owners, or they warned him away with threats of beatings.

He didn’t let their reactions ruin his mood. The prospect of leaving the village for more than a few hours had energy surging through his veins. His legs twitched to get on the trail, and he had to suppress a stubborn smile that kept finding its way onto his face.

Within hours, most of the village was lined up in a convoy, traveling through the forest paths towards the meeting place. Marcus walked along beside Agnar as he rode. The warriors were all on horseback, not only because it befit their station, but so that they could swing into action if anything or anyone jumped out of the thick tree line. They flanked the rest of the group on both sides, calm but keeping an eye out. Most of the villagers walked or rode in the wagons if they were too weak for a day’s travel. They tittered excitedly, talking about the games and the foods they’d see at the feasts.

Marcus snuck glances up at Agnar as he walked, admiring the way his thick thighs moved and flexed as he rode. Agnar’s handsome chin was raised as he watched for danger, and the angle made Marcus want to nuzzle up under it all the more. But he doubted they’d be able to lay together until after the festival. They had packed Svelat with simple bedrolls and a thick fabric to cover their heads, but nothing to protect them from prying eyes.

Granmar fell back from the front of the line, bringing Slagfid with him until their horses walked in line with Svelat. The brute didn’t play well with other horses either, and they gave him a wide enough berth for Marcus to remain at Agnar’s side. Slagfid took the opposite side, placing Granmar in the middle of the three men and Marcus between Granmar and Agnar. The skin on his back itched being so close to their leader again, but he resisted the urge to move away. He kept his head forward, looking like he was ignoring their conversation as any good slave would.

“I have heard rumors that the Suarines will take part in the games this year,” Granmar said, his tone serious.

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