Bee Among the Clover (228 page)

A
RON smiled and brushed his lips against Roman’s forehead. “It’s just a
hunt, darkling. I’ll likely be so far from any danger I won’t even know
whether we caught anything until we return. Don’t fret so.” It made his
heart tug that his darkling worried about him. He supposed he might feel
the same if their positions were reversed. He slipped his arms around Roman, kissing him soundly on the lips. “It’ll be all right, darkling.” He had to leave; the thane would be furious if he held up the hunting party.
He stole one last, sweet kiss before grabbing his cloak and darting out of Wulfgar’s room, hurrying through the hall out to the yard.
Wulfgar’s expression was irritated as Aron appeared. “You, boy, are
oft-times more trouble than you’re worth. Come, we’ve wasted enough
time waiting for you.” The thane caught him round the waist and lifted
him onto the horse.
Aron pressed his lips together tightly, fuming at the way the thane
treated him as Wulfgar swung up behind him and slid his arm around
Aron’s waist, hauling him closer. Aron looked back and saw Roman watching them from the doorway before disappearing back inside the hall.
“Roman seems to be moving around better, eh?” Wulfgar said
against his ear.
Aron stiffened before forcing himself to relax. He didn’t want
Wulfgar touching Roman, but he was helpless to stop it. The thought infuriated him. When all was said and done, despite their feelings for each
other, they both still belonged to the thane, and he knew Wulfgar wouldn’t
let them forget it. He made himself shrug and took on a nonchalant tone. “Aye, my lord, but he still has yet to regain all of his strength. The fever
took a toll on him.”
“It’s good to see he’s recovering,” the thane murmured.
Aron wisely chose to keep his mouth shut before he snarled that
Roman wouldn’t have had to recover at all if the thane hadn’t wounded him and left him without proper care afterwards. He was still, and likely

always would be, bitter about that. He’d nearly lost his darkling, but he also knew it was as much his own fault as it was Wulfgar’s.

He knew Wulfgar was weighing whether or not Roman was well enough to return to the thane’s bed, and it scraped at his nerves, ate away at him. It was foolish, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. Roman was his in every way that mattered but one. His body belonged solely to Wulfgar. Unfortunately, Aron couldn’t do anything about it until his own indenture was up. Aron consoled himself with the knowledge that Roman had promised he’d run with him when the time came. His darkling wouldn’t stay behind this time, though if they were caught…. Wulfgar’s threat toward his darkling chilled his blood whenever he thought about it. He had no doubts the thane would see it through. Well, they’d just have to come up with a foolproof plan.

He also fretted about his debt to Cate. He had no idea how long she’d ask him to serve her or what kind of service she’d demand. The thought of being separated from Roman at all, let alone for an unspecified amount of time, was enough to string his nerves taut.

He pondered the problem. Cate had seemed understanding and sympathetic to their forbidden love. Perhaps she’d allow Roman to come with him, or at least let them see each other during Aron’s service to her. It was a hope, and he clung to anything he could.

Aron breathed a little easier once Wulfgar ceased chatting with him and turned his attention to other warriors and his son, who’d also been included the party. Aron couldn’t see why he himself was. Mayhap the thane was tired of the anger he couldn’t quite hide and thought the trip was a way of lightening his mood. He probably thought he was being generous letting him see Roman, even allowing Roman back in his room. Knowing the thane, he thought Aron was being petulant, as he was so fond of saying. He’d gotten caught running away and paid the consequences. It was time to put it behind them. His brows furrowed as he realized he was working himself up into a righteous fury, and that would solve nothing.

What he really wanted was to have been left behind with his darkling. He wondered what Roman was doing back at the hall; probably studying again. The next time they were confined indoors because of rain, he’d have to ask his darkling to teach him how to read his scribblings. He’d felt so helpless when he had had that letter in his hand, knowing it contained all of the questions he wanted the answers to but having no way of unlocking them.

“You just had to bring your bedmate along, Wulfgar,” Brandr said, his voice teasing as he rode up beside the thane.

Wulfgar chuckled and squeezed Aron’s thigh. “If you had a treasure as sweet as this, wouldn’t you? Besides, he’ll be going home in a few short months, and I suppose I’ll see naught of him after that.”

Aron didn’t bother to deny that, thinking to himself,
You’ll be seeing naught of me or my darkling.
But he kept silent. It still rankled when Wulfgar fondled him openly and spoke of him as if he were nothing more than another piece of his property.

The battle-lords tossed about jests as they rode, and Aron tried to pay them little mind. He’d never be one of them, with their callous ways and single-minded pursuits. But neither was he a scholar like his darkling. He didn’t know where he fit in. He imagined that would be something he’d have to decide when his time here was up and he’d fulfilled his debt.

“Here, lads, this seems a likely spot,” Wulfgar said, and the party drew to a halt. Dismounting, the thane reached up to help Aron down as well, flashing him a wide grin and giving him a light slap on the flank. “Help unload the spears and supplies from the pack horses, boy.”

Aron cast his eyes to the ground to keep from glowering at Wulfgar, but he went about his duties, grateful for the respite from Wulfgar’s attentions. Swiftly, he unloaded the spears and set them aside for use, watching a few of the hunters leave to search out game runs for their prey. Wulfgar was talking with his son, so Aron busied himself with other chores to keep from having to return to him.

He tensed as Wulfgar approached, his expression thoughtful. “Boy, catch,” he said. Aron’s eyes widened as the thane tossed him one of the boar spears, with its broad heavy blade and wide cross guard, crafted to keep the boar from continuing on to gore the hunter after it’d been struck.

“My lord?” Wulfgar couldn’t mean for him to go along. He’d assumed his presence was merely to pleasure the thane in the evening after he had returned from the hunt.

Wulfgar slid his arm around Aron’s waist and tugged him close, dropping a kiss down onto his lips. “Surely you don’t wish to be left behind at the camp when all the excitement will be happening elsewhere?”

Aron blinked up at him, unsure if this was some sort of trick, but the thane seemed sincere. “No, my lord, I’d like to come along.” He’d hunted before, small game, rabbits and such, but never boars. He stared after Wulfgar when he nodded and released him, wondering why the thane did such things. It was incongruous with what Aron thought he knew about him, but then, before he’d branded Roman, Wulfgar had never harmed either of them, not really.

Giving up on figuring it out, he followed Wulfgar, keeping several steps behind him so as not to be in the way, watching as the others returned and the lot of them began plotting out the paths that would be taken and who’d be positioned where. They were paced out in a long row, close enough to each other that one hunter was still visible to another but far enough that they covered the path well. Wulfgar, of course, was in the thick of it. His son was off to the left, and Aron scowled when Wulfgar informed him he’d be between them. He noticed he was much closer to the thane than the other hunters were with each other.