Scorpion Page 3

  “You need a place to heal. Well, this is it.”

  “Who owns this?”

  “Couple of important people who hired me.”

  “And where are they?”

  “Off to Dalman.”

  “Leaving you in charge? A Fetinye?”

  Steel shrugged. “If you don’t believe me….” He left that hanging in the air, then added, “Listen, I’m the best bet you have. Those boys… yes, they belong to me, but they won’t bother you.”

  “What are you, Steel?”

  “Since you defeated my hometown, I’m a mercenary.”

  “You made good use of your time since Fetin’s fall.”

  “I didn’t say I was there when it fell,” Steel snapped and looked like he was forcing himself to remain calm. “Right the fuck now I don’t know if my people made it out all right, or who’s raped and who’s dead. Or both.” He swallowed. “Rest up. The slaves will feed you.”

  “I raped nobody.”

  “I said rest up.” Steel exhaled sharply and took another step back.

  Kendras withdrew into the room and only heard Steel order a passing slave to look after the guest before falling asleep.

  He woke when his door opened, and Steel entered the room. The man paused, stared down at him as if trying to see every detail in the gloom.

  “You haven’t come to cut my throat,” Kendras murmured.

  “No. Quite the opposite.”

  Was this how it would be now? He’d been quartered like a guest, but when the master of the house had an itch, he’d get fucked like a slave. Steel’s erection left no doubt of that.

  “So what are you waiting for?” Kendras’s kept his tone flat, making it a challenge rather than a question.

  “Maybe for you to tell me your price.”

  No slave, then. A whore. Not much of a step up. Maybe it amused the mercenary to bait him first. Kendras huffed. “I’m here on your sufferance. You said it. I have nowhere else to go.” He was only too aware that Steel could easily pull the covers down and fuck him. He wasn’t in any position or state to fight. And if it had been one of the Scorpions, he wouldn’t have minded, but Steel was an outsider.

  He held Steel’s gaze, knowing he’d get fucked in return for a safe bed, meals, and a roof over his head at least until he could travel again. For the second time in his life, he needed a stranger’s kindness to live and maybe fight another day, if his foot ever healed. The last time that had happened, it had changed his life forever. Compared to the officer, Steel was a nobody.

  “You don’t have the stomach for it. Steel.” He added the man’s name as a backhanded reminder.

  Steel’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not here to rape you.”

  “Oh, really?” Kendras’s grin widened. “If you choose to lie with scorpions….” You need a taste for poison. The sentence had never been truer. He wouldn’t dishonor his comrades now.

  “Then what?”

  Kendras shrugged and pushed the blanket down, baring his chest and stomach, all only hints in the dark. His hand pushed the blanket deeper, down to show off pubes and part of his cock. Steel’s expression almost made Kendras laugh.

  “A silver coin bought you once. How much do you charge now?”

  “I didn’t charge,” Kendras said. “You offered.”

  “Will another coin be enough?”

  “Why so angry?” Kendras lifted his thigh and pushed the blanket to the side until it only covered one leg. The one with the bad foot. He had no desire to display his injuries.

  “I don’t have my silver here.”

  Kendras huffed laughter. “Then fetch it.”

  Steel straightened.

  Yes, I’m playing with you. I have you by the tail, and you squirm. How long will you fight? Which one will win out—pride or need? Do you dare the scorpion?

  “Unless,” Kendras added.

  “Unless?”

  “You take it up the ass.”

  Steel recoiled. “No.” He gritted his teeth. “I… don’t do that,” he explained, as if to pacify Kendras. “I could suck you.”

  Kendras watched him, as if considering the offer, but didn’t answer.

  Finally, Steel asked, “So?”

  “Go get your money. You can still walk with that.” He let his hand drop to his groin, tugging his cock, which was now half-hard. He liked the idea of fucking Steel in return—and none too gently, either.

  Steel turned to leave.

  “And oil,” Kendras added, voice low and level.

  By the time Steel returned, as commanded, with oil and a silver coin, Steel was no less hard. If anything, he was harder. Interesting. Here was a man who wanted more the harder he had to fight for it. Kendras could have told him that was a weakness when it came to sex. The easy victories were just as good as the difficult ones. They could easily have gotten together like soldiers often did, but not after the first silver had changed hands. It was his way of settling his scores. Not a chance encounter, no mutual favor. Steel would either take it or pay up. Very easy.

  Steel set the oil and the lantern down and turned up the wick. The light tore Kendras’s bandaged foot out of the gloom.

  The mercenary let the coin play over his fingers, casting flickering reflections over Kendras’s body, forcing Kendras to give him his attention. Kendras glanced at the coin, then up into his face, and waited.

  Would he place it on the nightstand, or flick it onto his body, demanding he turn around, then fuck him hard, with anger? Kendras turned his hand to lie, palm up, on his stomach, and Steel simply placed the coin inside.

  That sealed the deal.

  Steel stroked lower to touch Kendras’s cock, which hardened fast in his grip. Steel swiftly shed his tunic and trousers so he had both hands free to touch Kendras’s skin. Kendras watched Steel’s face; the man looked like he’d never seen cock. Maybe not that size, Kendras thought without a hint of tenderness.

  Steel settled between Kendras’s legs, and Kendras opened them, keeping one foot off the bed as the medic had cautioned him. Steel scooted up, opening Kendras’s legs wider and further, exposing his ass. Kendras only hoped that the fucking wouldn’t be harsh enough to unsettle the broken bones.

  “I’ll have you like that, but not exactly like that.” Steel ran his hands along Kendras’s inner thighs. “Turn toward the edge of the bed.” He tapped him on the knee and got off the bed himself.

  Kendras positioned himself, legs in the air, ass exposed over the frame of the bed. Steel took the moment to oil his cock and coat his fingers, then stood between Kendras’s legs.

  Steel snatched a pillow, jammed in under Kendras’s ass to expose him further, and wiped his oiled fingers in Kendras’s crack. He plunged into Kendras in one harsh, deep thrust. Kendras grunted at the invasion, but in his position, he was powerless, and his first priority was to keep his bad foot out of the way. Steel, and what he was doing, came a distant second, and Steel seemed to realize that. His thrusts were harsh and desperate, angry, but Kendras knew no man who could just stop. Well, one, but he might be dead.

  Kendras took the fucking like he’d take a whipping, in fierce silence, betraying only what little could absolutely be forced from him, breathing harshly not from lust but from the exertion of resistance and keeping his foot out of the way. He didn’t struggle, didn’t defend himself. He stared at Steel and right through him, withdrawn, far away from this.

  Steel had to work hard to get off. The initial anger on his features melted into desperation and was soon tinged with disgust, but by then he seemed unable to stop himself, and he rode it toward completion.

  Just like with a whore, isn’t it? Kendras thought, just before Steel pulled free and wiped the sweat from his face.

  Once they were no longer connected, Kendras pushed himself back to lie properly on the bed, one leg down, the other dangling over the bed frame. He ignored his erection, wouldn’t touch himself with Steel watching. But Steel stared at it, hunger and exasperation mixing with the slack express
ion on his face.

  Kendras would have liked nothing better than to grab Steel’s neck and feed him that cock, or tumble him on the bed and thrust it inside him, but whores didn’t do that. And he might get kicked out on the street for it. The thought sobered him.

  Kendras pointedly followed Steel’s gaze. “You can have that too.”

  “You should pay me for it,” Steel groused but climbed on the bed. He kissed Kendras’s stomach first, traced his tongue along the V-lines running from his hips toward his groin.

  Kendras remained completely silent when Steel took the head in his mouth, slowly, despite how practiced he clearly was. Licking and then sucking on the head, running his tongue around it, offering touch with lips and tongue, sliding it along the slit—Steel concentrated entirely on his cock and nothing else.

  Every now and then, Steel took as much as he could, and then pulled back while sucking, resisting letting go of what he’d managed to fit inside. He took Kendras’s balls and squeezed them in his hand.

  Kendras’s stomach and thigh muscles tensed and flexed with Steel’s ministrations, and Steel took his cues from the responses of Kendras’s muscles, from stomach to legs. He upped the ante, sucking and squeezing now to get him off.

  When Steel pulled back, Kendras put his hand against the man’s neck, one tensing of muscles away from pulling Steel back onto his cock. Steel blew cool breath over his wet tip, and the hand that had been fondling his balls moved between Kendras’s legs, finding his opening.

  With the oil and his own seed, Steel pushed two fingers easily into him, fucking him again now, with more skill and more endurance. Only then did Steel resume the sucking. Kendras gritted his teeth, grabbed Steel’s sweaty neck harder and pulled him farther onto his cock. His hips bucked upward, the growing need washing his disdain and his stoic calm away.

  Despite his best efforts and all his skill (and Kendras had to give him that), Steel choked when Kendras forced his way down into his throat, tried hard to pull away, but Kendras wouldn’t let him until his orgasm exploded, and he came into Steel’s throat.

  Choking and spluttering, Steel had no choice but to take it. He all but jumped back when Kendras, sated and languid now, released him.

  “Bastard,” Steel muttered, rubbing his throat.

  “You’re right, though,” Kendras said. “I should have paid you for that.”

  Steel laughed. “Think I earned my coin back?”

  Kendras regarded him from under heavy lids. “Depends what you’re planning to do with that hard-on.”

  “Can I fuck you again?”

  Kendras shook his head. “Come here.”

  Steel came closer. Kendras nudged him to climb on top of him, before Kendras spit into his hand and closed it around the man’s cock. He’d done this a hundred times with a comrade in need of relief. Nothing to it.

  Steel thrust against the hand, and, settling lower, against Kendras’s tensed front, soon began to pant with need despite the fact he’d come not too long ago. Steel kept most of his weight off Kendras, supporting himself on his elbows while thrusting. Kendras slung his leg across both of Steel’s, holding the man tighter, almost like a lover or a comrade, giving him more friction.

  While sliding flesh on flesh, smells of sweat and sex mingled in one glorious rush of exertion. Kendras humored Steel, getting him off like Steel was the more inexperienced man. Maybe he was, but Kendras never thought of himself as anybody’s “lover.”

  With a desperate sound, Steel came, and Kendras kept jerking him off through orgasm, milking his seed from him until he had nothing more to give.

  Steel rolled off, but seemed otherwise unable to move. Neither did Kendras. Instead, he let the clean linen bed sheet soak up his sweat and breathed in their mingled scents. Steel lay next to him, close enough that Kendras felt the warmth of his shoulder against his own.

  Kendras placed his left hand on his stomach, noticing how the light from the lantern threw the scars on the back of his hand into relief. The scars outlined the black scorpion tattoo and made it more visible against his dark skin. The scorpion’s tail went past the wrist, the pincers on the first and third knuckle.

  “I didn’t know you could tattoo black skin at all,” Steel said, looking at his hand.

  Kendras turned his wrist, displaying the “17” tattooed on the inside, right on top of his pulse. No scars here.

  “Tell me about your unit.”

  Kendras glanced at him. “How much have you heard about the battle?”

  “Dalman won, much pillaging, rape, and burning in Fetin before the Lady Protector got the king to stop his troops.”

  “I was not around when that happened.” Kendras rubbed the scorpion with the thumb of his right hand, which had the exact same tattoo, only mirrored, the tail curved the other way.

  “You were wounded before?”

  Kendras just nodded. “We faced the Flames when they led the charge to break the siege.”

  “They must have been desperate to use the Lady Protector’s personal guard. Why you?”

  Kendras huffed. “Seems the king thought we were the best he had.”

  “Then why have I never heard of the Scorpions?”

  Kendras shrugged. “We were a small unit, rarely more than twenty men. Those that matter know us.”

  “How many are left?”

  “I have no way of knowing.” Kendras’s eyes traveled down Steel’s front. “What about you?”

  Steel scratched his chest idly, as if to gather his thoughts. “I was more a bodyguard than a soldier. Trained by an independent sword master. I do what I do to eat. My eyes are a big asset; it’s easy getting hired for the dirty work if people think you don’t fear for your soul because you have none.”

  “Do you share that idea?”

  “I couldn’t tell the difference, could I? Maybe I don’t, but I don’t know what it feels like to have one.”

  Kendras half-turned to meet his gaze. Steel shifted uneasily.

  “The other men?”

  “They stick to me because I can find them work.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Puppy was the man who was asleep. Everybody loves him, hence the name. The long thin one is Stick. They are both hired swords, I know them from my bodyguarding days. And then there’s Widow. He’s… different.”

  “Not a hired sword?”

  Steel grimaced. “He kills because he enjoys it. He called himself Widowmaker, but Puppy decided that name’s too long, so ‘Widow’ stuck.”

  “You’re not a real unit, just hired swords sticking together because you can find dirty work.”

  “To be fair, we’re good at what we do.”

  “But you’re not a unit. You’re not a commanding officer.”

  “No.” Steel shrugged. “That’s not how it works.”

  Kendras reached down to pull up the light blanket and adjusted the pillow, then settled in comfortably. He now knew more about Steel—his weakness. Not an officer, no real skill to lead, no ironclad fist that kept these men together. Under the first onslaught, they’d crumble like a sandcastle licked away by the first wave.

  What little he’d given Steel, the man had let down his guard and given him a lot more. To the right man, Steel might be an asset. But when it came down to it, Steel was just a hired sword without much claim to anything, least of all proud military history, or even any kind of history.

  We, unlike any other unit in the world, have a memory. We remember everything.

  Kendras jerked awake. He’d almost heard the officer’s voice. Not admonishing him, just calmly there. He’d rested enough, indulged his pain enough.

  Never stop fighting.

  He had. Again. He rolled out of bed and let Steel sleep. The early gray light of morning seeped in through the wooden blinds. Farm. There had to be a smithy. He remembered the guard at the gate had carried a pike. The solution was so obvious Kendras cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

  Chapter 3

  WEARING his h
eavy leathers, Kendras stood next to one of the two anvils, giving the hammer a rest after all the work he’d done. He pulled the front of the leathers open to allow the light breeze coming in through the door to cool him. He pushed the scale armor that hung from a beam to the side to make out whose legs were approaching him.

  Steel. He’d slept in. Kendras wondered if Steel had stayed in Kendras’s bed and guessed from the man’s expression that he didn’t like losing the morning. Well, that was just too damn bad. Kendras’s hands trailed along the scales that he’d replaced in the last few hours, then adjusted the roll of the pulley to lift the scale armor further up.

  He then took the lightest of the hammers and formed a fresh scale.

  The armor was his second priority. The first had been to be able to stand without a crutch. The solution was simple. The beggars in the streets of Dalman had provided that inspiration. He’d built himself a peg leg from wood and leather that he’d fastened to his bent knee. If it worked for Dalman’s beggars, it sure could work for one of Dalman’s finest. Not that he had any loyalties left for a city that had condemned him to die, all those years ago.

  The design wasn’t perfect, the leather still chafed and the straps were digging into his flesh, but it kept his foot out of the way and allowed him to stand and walk without too much pain. It even gave him enough stability to work, and maybe, later, to fight. Once he could fight, he’d leave here, but for that, he needed a weapon, which would be his third priority.

  Kendras plunged the scale into the water bucket and then released it again to hammer holes into the piece of metal.

  “You’ve been busy,” Steel said from the door.

  Kendras lifted his head for a moment, then took a different hammer and punched the first hole into the scale. “I woke up early.”

  “You built a leg, now you’re fixing your armor. What’s next?”

  Kendras nodded toward the pike leaning against the door. “A glaive. I just need to make a blade.”

  “How did you get the pike?”

  “Guard at the gate sold his for half your coin.”

  Steel leaned against the door, one arm up, hips tilted like he was a whore offering his wares. Getting the work done was more important.