Page 37 of Ceridor

I sighed and scanned the area around us. We were alone on the road. Maybe I could fill him in on some of it before we got to the next town.

"As you've heard, they are seven gods symbolized by seven lanterns, brought here by a mystic who has since died. That mystic befriended Ulbrecht and taught him how to perceive the gods, and now Ulbrecht claims he can feel the gods watching him in battle. Ulbrecht doesn't necessarily think the gods are protecting him, or that they would intervene to save him. Rather, he thinks the gods are watching him, witnessing his struggle, and thus Ulbrecht and his men fight with all their might with the understanding that they have divine eyes on them, in addition to the high stakes of defending their borders against invaders."

Johann squeezed my hand and swallowed, the gears clearly turning in his mind. "The gaze of the divine…that is an important power indeed, especially if they—the gods, or the power—could be convinced to support someone else who might steal the lanterns."

"The gods cannot be convinced of something by mere humans," I countered, but his overall point held true. "I too am afraid that as these rumors spread, competing factions could try to capture the lanterns and attempt to transfer their power. That puts a target on Wren's and Awariye's backs, since they've successfully managed already to bring the power down, and it would put a target on the back of any of the other monks in our group that might try to help, myself included."

"I am all the more grateful to you, then, for getting me started on meditative and spiritual practices. Perhaps I can help with this issue in some small way?" said Johann.

He glanced in my direction, but then seemed to lose his nerve and stammered, "Even if I am unable to do much, I can still use these skills to be wiser as a fighter, or potentially as a ruler. After only two years, I could at least see the creek sprite, and that white ball of lightning you sent out. That's got to count for something."

I squeezed his hand. "Itissomething, Johann, and I'm proud of you. You've put in the work, and I know you'll work hard at Diana Monastery."

"I will," he concurred.

We fell silent for several moments, deep in thought. I didn't tell him this, but being able to see the subtle planes so clearly after only two years of magical practice was quite unusual. More than likely, he'd practiced magic in a past life, if not in multiple incarnations, so he was actually building upon decades of practice rather than just the two years, but there was no way to confirm that.

"Have you read the Arthurian legends as an adult, outside of when I've sung them to you?" I asked, deciding to pivot.

"Of course," he answered. "Including the Germanic version of Parzifal."

I nodded, satisfied with that answer, then took another moment to gather my thoughts.

"The Arthurian archetype is dangerous," I explained. "Arthur protected his homeland, but remember, he ultimately failed to establish a lasting peace that survived his death. It's too late for Ulbrecht to avoid being associated with the Welsh warlord—I've heard Danubian people call him their Arthurian king—but if he can avoid expressing that archetype fully, then maybe this feeble peace won't be lost when he is."

"He's got us: Sören, Igor, even me," Johann said with conviction. "He has warriors around him who are strong, who love him and would honor his legacy."

I hummed assent, squeezing his hand. "That, and just because the Britons were overrun by the Saxons after the fall of Arthur does not mean it was all in vain. He gave his people time, precious time to first enjoy the peace, for their culture to have its day in the sun, and then to flee to Wales and survive to the present. In those decades, Welsh bardic stories were sent to monasteries in Ireland, where they were protected from the raids and fires that swept through Briton with the Saxons. Thanks to those Irish Catholic monks that copied and preserved everything, including arguably some pagan pre-Christian texts, those stories survive even to today. In fact I've memorized quite a few of them over the years in my training. By this historical example, I've been sending folk stories to Marit at the monastery library for years."

"So we gather around Ulbrecht and try to keep him from meeting the same fate as Arthur," surmised Johann.

"That's one way to view it," I confirmed.

We walked for several minutes, both of us thinking of what lay ahead.

"I want to do what I can," my lover said. "I'm tired of my life being in a holding pattern. My sister is set up in the life she wants. She's safe, and I don't need to worry about her. She can take care of herself, and there's Magnus nearby should she need something. Now I want to pursue my dreams and goals. Effie never would have wanted me to sacrifice for her, and from that perspective my sticking around wasn't intentional. But now my life is mine."

"You've a role to play in this, Johann," I said, echoing the smile he sent me. "We all do."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ceridor

We held hands and walked the first stretch, but as the sun rose high we got sweaty and let go. Eventually we made it into the trees that started the forest and thanks to the canopy, things cooled down a bit.

Johann asked me all kinds of questions throughout the morning, about the lanterns and the monks gathering around this power to protect it and subsequently the Danubian High King. I answered each one, slowly filling him in on the world I'd been drawn into, though carefully keeping my voice down and changing topics when encountering passersby so we were not overheard.

I caught Johann looking around, as if scoping out a place to pull aside a moment and have some lunch. "Need a break?"

The fire in his gaze told me he had a very different idea from lunch.

"A different kind of break?" I amended, though we'd fucked just this morning, since it was the last time we'd be in the comfort of our bed for a while.

With all the changes afoot, I hadn't realized how our sex life might change. Normally I was accustomed to going months without Johann, and then catching up in a wild frenzy whenever I visited home. Now that he was with me for the next few months, I'd get to find out what his regular drive and desires were. I needed to be ready if they were higher than I'd estimated. Maybe indeed he wanted a romp in the morning and then an afternoon delight at lunch and something again to help him sleep. That sounded like a lot, yet my body already sizzled in anticipation. I wanted to satisfy my younger lover. Fulfilling his needs and accepting the brunt of his wild desires also did something for me.

We both looked each other over and were all but panting. My voice came out husky. "Want another round real quick, take the edge off before lunch?"

"You're incredible," he praised, then searched the area again and cocked his chin toward some trees. "Let's go over there."

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