Page 20 of The Sun God’s Prize (Child of Scale and Fire #3)

Life is now training and eating and sucking and fucking, enduring the heat of the day while I suffer through Prenese’s endless armor alterations as the sunrises and sunsets add up to far longer than I would like.

I now know that my freedom won’t be won here, in provincial matches against other stables, where none are killed and the stakes are low.

Brem tells me as much in whispers in the darkness when she curls against me, my shoulder her pillow, half asleep as she shares her secrets and the expectations of this existence.

“We’re the lucky ones,” she says, lips grazing my skin though we’re both spent, her attachment only deepening with every act of lovemaking.

I struggle between guilt over using her to assuage my own loneliness, knowing I’m going to leave her eventually, and a need for connection that has me luring her as often as she seduces me into sex play.

It helps that she’s an eager student, happy to give me what I need and as delighted with what I’m willing to give.

Whatever held her back, she’s no longer restrained and seems to expand into herself over the days.

“We live as we choose, by the sword and by our strength. Not all are as fortunate.”

“But we’re still whores,” I say, knowing it’s true. Didn’t Romouth say as much to me the day she bought me? “We’re just selling our bodies for another reason. It’s all the same, though.”

She snorts at me. “Perhaps,” she says. “But I’d rather cut off a man’s jutting thing than have it inside me.

” While she’s discovered she enjoys my fingers in her pussy, she’s rejected every substitute for a dick I’ve come up with, including a thick, carved stone dildo offered up with a wink by Hloraine.

While I’ve taught Brem to use it because my cunt loves it. The harder and deeper the better.

“Fair,” I say. “But freedom? How do I fight for that?”

She goes quiet for a long time, then exhales against me, goosebumps rising from the stimulation of her breath.

“I knew you’d be pursuing it,” she says, soft and sad.

“It’s no surprise. And nor do you have long to wait, my love.

” It’s the first time she’s called me that, and I blink tears in the dark, grieving the men I’ve left behind, though she knows it not.

I haven’t told her everything, or much at all, if I’m being fair.

“Our training is in preparation for the Sun God’s birthing day, when he rose from the ashes and was reborn to us.

” An odd belief these Sunnish folk have, that their king is really the reincarnation of their god, the Sun Himself, brought to life in the body of a man.

But who am I to question what they think when I’m talking to a dragon in my head? Though, tot as often as I used to, and I’m worried she’s fading from me and will soon be gone like Atlas and Zenthris seem to be.

“We’ll be fighting for our freedom then, I take it?” I stroke her hair absently, already considering the future, when the present should be enough to hold me. I’d thought her weary enough to sleep, but her fingers creep between my thighs and she’s already stroking me to passion again.

I understand her tactic. She doesn’t want me to go. But she does answer me as she lifts herself up on her elbow and looks down into my eyes in the dimness of the unlit room, lips parting while she watches my reaction to her touch.

“I have you for ten days more,” she says. “And I will take advantage of every second I’m allowed.”

When she kisses me, she’s the one who moans, and though I should be focusing on her, I’m eager, excited, and rush my orgasm, pushing her hand hard inside me.

Ten more days.

I will be ready.

But there is another thing to consider, and when I note that Morinthi and Hloraine watch Brem with me, catch their gazes lingering, I invite them to join us in bed, beckoning them from where they lounge on cushions before we retreat to my chamber.

I leave a lantern on because I want my lover to see what is in store for her.

Brem’s nervousness returns, her uncertainty expected.

I sit her gently on a pillow to one side to watch, then take command of the tall, thin warrior and her tattooed partner.

I’m finger fucking Hloraine who eats Morinthi’s dripping cunt, when I feel a hand on my back that slides down to the curve of my ass.

Brem’s willingness to sit aside doesn’t last any longer than I expected it to, and I turn to smile at her, catching her lips for a moment before I firmly bring Hloraine to orgasm.

But I’m far from done. Brem is in my arms, now laid out beside Morinthi, the lean fighter’s lips on her neck, her ear, then suckling her while Hloraine shifts her attention, agile tongue making Brem squirm and squeal.

I hold Brem’s gaze as the two women make her the absolute center of their passion, watching her, keeping space with her, until her pupils widen to devour the dark brown and her head arches backward, panting cries loud enough that someone outside the room shouts for us to shut the fuck up and finish already.

We’re laughing when Brem relaxes, the three women falling together, and I’m going to leave them to it when I’m snagged by ankle and wrist and pulled into the sweaty, sex-scented fun.

I’m happy to join them.

When we’re finally done, the lantern out and the twining arms and legs hold us gently, soft snoring from Hloraine paired with the bare breath of Morinthi, I hear Brem’s whisper in the dark.

“Thank you,” she says. “My love.”

She’ll be all right when I go. I know that now. It ends the guilt I feel for using her for comfort. Sleep is deep and peaceful that night, and for all the nights I slumber thereafter, none of which I spend alone.

It’s not until the next morning that Hloraine asks for help.

“The way you fight,” she says, voice low and faintly awed, glancing at the others who already have their own little groups and ignore us for the most part.

“I’ve watched and tried to learn, but…” she spreads her short-fingered hands in front of her. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

Brem perks, but waits for me to answer. But she’s the leader here, and I nod to her.

“If you’ll allow it, Brem,” I say, “I’ll share some of my techniques with the others.”

The small warrior woman takes a pause, thoughtful, as though thinking it over, when I know that’s the last thing she’s doing.

We’ve already talked about her frustration with the warriors not wanting to learn from her.

It’s clear she appreciates my deference, too, because she finally nods with a lift of one eyebrow.

“Perhaps that might help,” Brem says. “I’ll discuss it with Romouth and let you know.”

Only I catch her sharp grin, her sparkling gaze when she shares it with me, Morinthi and Hloraine’s mutual excitement distracting them from Brem’s reaction.

I’m delighted to assist, glory to our mistresse and all.

More so because this small collective has become my family while I’m here, and I am grateful for them.

Romouth immediately agrees and even emerges from her quarters to observe as I begin instructions. I’ve already watched the fighters and can see where their educations are lax, focusing on their strengths instead.

“You’re taller than most, even a lot of the men,” I tell Morinthi, tossing her two long spears instead of one, the whip just a distraction, and she’s not great with it, anyway.

“Focus on your reach instead of brute strength. You’re fast, too, and limber, all of which will make you formidable if you master that weapon and use it to your advantage.

I set her up, showing her a few simple moves that will allow her to practice on her own and then turn to Hloraine, the nervous woman watching her lover stumble through the first few attempts.

“And you,” I say with a grim smile, “are fucking strong, you brute.” She’s shown me as much, if only during sex, lifting me easily when she needs to adjust me to her liking.

“But a brute weapon will only slow you down.” I take the wide-bladed axe from her hand, unstrapping the shield, and give her the weighted net instead, a short leaf dagger, jagged along one edge, for her other hand.

“You’ll be against those with longer reach, who are taller and faster.

Your advantage will be getting them close where you can leverage your strength. ”

She seems surprised to hear than but nods and steps back when I instruct her on how best to use the net, showing her how to fold the edge into her palm to compact it and then toss it to spread it in the air, while anchoring it to her grip so she doesn’t throw her best weapon away as I’ve seen them all do.

I catch Romouth’s nod of approval, but keep my focus on the two women now training, noting their stumbles, correcting their movements in increments.

It helps that they’re both at least competent, so I’m not starting from nothing, and it’s clear they’re both as dedicated to this idea as they are fast learners, because we’re barely breaking at noon for our midday meal when I realize they’ve already vastly improved.

They seem to know it, too, grinning and hugging me, Hloraine’s enthusiasm making my ribs groan, but it’s Brem whose delight has me smiling.

So, it’s no surprise that Kasha approaches our table while we eat, the sullen woman I bested my first day planting herself beside me with a much softer expression than she’s ever shown me before.

“I’d like to learn, too,” she says.

“Of course,” I say, no grudges allowed to linger, while Brem nods when I turn to her for acceptance. “All are welcome, I take it?”

They’re listening, the other women, and I catch the relief that washes over them, hear their happy chatter as they finish their meals, and see their trepidation when they line up on the sand after we’ve done eating to wait for me to take them in hand.

Who would have thought that I’d become the teacher?

Not me, not even once. I’ve always believed I still have so much to learn, that Vivenne’s talents as an instructor would outweigh my own if I ever decided in my arrogance to try.

Yes, I’d corrected one or two of my personal company on occasion, but they were all selected for their expertise and skill, hand-picked from my mother’s soldiers and fully prepared, already honored soldiers of Heald.

This is a far different situation, and I find I’m enjoying myself showing them a new way of fighting as much as I feel joy in my own practice.

There are groans and complaints, of course, and a few needed ass-kicks to stop the resentment from festering. But even more so, there are shouts of encouragement, cheers at successful attacks, and laughter.

So much laughter. Romouth was right after all. I truly feel like I’m home again.

I’m amazed when I look up to find the sun is setting, the sweating, weary, and yet enthusiastic stable of warrior women hugging one another.

They put their equipment away without prompting, stopping to hug me, too, on the way to our quarters.

Even Kasha, who’s shy when she does it, but presses a kiss to my cheek before she goes.

Brem takes my hand, beaming up at me, we two the last as twilight darkens the arena to flickering gold from the lanterns. “You’ve done what I could never do,” she says.

“No,” I say. “ You did this, Brem.” I gesture at the departing women. “You’ve held them together. I merely convinced them they needed to listen to you.”

“Agreed.” We turn to find Romouth has joined us, the towering mistresse smiling down at the tiny fighter she’s made her second. “Well done, both of you.” Her dark eyes glisten in the lantern light. “What a show we’ll have for the Sun God this season!”

I murmur in support, following Brem to the bathing room, wondering if Romouth also knows what I intend.

She has to, and though I’m a slave here, she’s done what she can for me in this system where I find myself.

I honestly believe that had they ever met, she and my mother would have been friends, the products of their own particular circumstances, but so similar in many ways.

I’m grateful to her for giving me somewhere to recover, to find family, and to plan without fear of what’s here and now.

That worry is all in the future, where it belongs.

***