The Forest God's Favor by AT Lander

Author:AT Lander [Lander, AT]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA Romance Fiction
Publisher: Totally Entwined Group
Published: 2021-10-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

Months passed, counting out the long Greek summer. Others came to the forest, hunters and travelers and holy pilgrims who journeyed from outlying villages touched by the new god’s growing power. Not all of them caught Anthos’ eye, and he never pushed himself on the unwilling, but Anthos was clearly getting stronger.

Not that he sat idly by between trysts. He had to make up for those first weeks of lost time, and did all he could to ensure a good harvest. At dawn and dusk, times of mystery and magic, he would dance between the rows of grapes and grain, playing his reed pipes. He would visit the sheep and goats, whispering words of power in their ears, and walk through orchards, touching every tree.

Sometimes people would catch glimpses of him, hear his pipes on the wind. It was important that they never see him properly—something about divine mystery—but even then, the rumors began to grow. Lord Anthos was here, he was real, he was sharing his blessings as Lord Dryas never had.

And it was true—what should’ve been famine had grown into a bumper crop, with grapes so large and juicy they were nearly falling off the vine. When harvest came, Cleon went to work in the fields and organize the festival. The villagers gave him so many supplies and offerings he had to borrow his family’s ox-cart to tote them back.

“I wish I could go to the festival this year,” Amara said, helping Cleon load the last basket into the cart.

“You’ll be old enough next time,” he said, patting her hair. Their family had never had an abundance of food, but now there was a healthy glow to her cheeks he’d never seen before. “My baby sister, all grown up.”

She giggled, and Cleon smiled softly. He had spent years dreading the day when she would become a woman, when she would dance before Dryas and possibly catch his eye, but she was safe now. He knew Anthos would never touch her unless she wanted it, and if she did, he’d treat her with the utmost care.

Anthos still hadn’t been with a woman yet, nor had he topped, but he was working up to it. Perhaps at the festival he would be able to overcome that last hurdle.

When Cleon returned to the sacred glade, Anthos was back in his oak-branch roost, playing a melancholy tune on the panpipes. He waved at Cleon, but didn’t jump down yet, lowering the instrument and swinging his hooves.

“Something wrong?” Cleon called, craning his neck to look up at his lover.

Anthos began to speak, then seemed to realize that being forty feet up made for poor conversation. He leaped down to the top of the bower, which didn’t even tremble under his weight.

“I’m just…” He sighed. “Just nervous. You said a lot of people are coming, right?”

“Yes,” Cleon replied, “but trust me, they all like you already.”

“I suppose,” Anthos said, staring down at the pipes and turning them over in his hands. “I just…I just wish I knew better what to do.

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