Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

Just behind the stalls Kiram could see a poorly-repaired stone wall and beyond that stood thirty or more brightly- painted traveling wagons circled in the shadows of a stand of large, twisting trees. Black crows perched among the branches on the wagon roofs. Blue-tinged smoke rose up from at least four cooking fires.

As Kiram gazed at the red and gold designs on the walls of the wagons and at the shabby figures crouched around the fires, the sense of familiarity that the aroma of adhil bread had nurtured in him withered.

The Irabiim really weren't Haldiim.

They were filthy and their horses were rangy-looking creatures with rough, spotted hides. The women standing watch over the cook pots wore dark circles of kohl around their eyes and their blonde hair was tied up in what looked like strips of rag. The men carried fighting knives tucked into their belts, wore no shirts, and jangled gaudy bangles from their wrists.

Kiram's uncle Rafie had told him that each of the bracelets identified an Irabiim man as the son or husband of a particular matriarch and that because Irabiim mothers exchanged their sons like they were trading dice, only those bracelets prevented daughters from wedding their own brothers.

The wagons were decorated with morbid warnings to trespassers. Gilded human skulls hung from the roofs like wind chimes. Kiram felt his stomach clenching as he stared at them. No Haldiim would have treated his ancestors' remains that way, much less allowed crows to grow fat picking away the strips of flesh.

Kiram retreated into the shadow of the stone wall.

Javier asked, "What is it?"

"I always thought my uncle was exaggerating about them." Kiram didn't want to tell Javier that he was frightened, so he said, "They're filthy."

"Well, cleanliness doesn't seem to be a ruling tenet among them." Javier appeared unfazed by the skulls and obscenities on the wagon walls. "They breed some of the fastest colts you can buy and of course there's also the matter of having your fortune read."

"I don't believe in fortune telling."

"If you don't want to meet them, that's fine with me." Javier leaned against the wall beside Kiram so that their shoulders just brushed together. His hand hung down, almost touching Kiram's. "But I don't feel like wandering around in a crowd right now."

"Neither do I." If Kiram had been thinking more clearly he knew he would never have moved. As it was, he shifted slightly, leaning into Javier's shoulder. The weight of their bodies balanced. Kiram closed his eyes, letting the familiar scents of sweat and leather encompass him. He imagined that he could feel Javier's heart beating through his own body.

Kiram twined his fingers between Javier's and held his hand tight.

Javier said, "You don't make it easy for me to stay away from you."

Kiram kept his eyes closed, fearing his resolve would collapse if he looked into Javier's eyes. Then he'd kiss his mouth. He'd run his hands over his chest and down to his thighs. His body ached just thinking of the mistakes that he longed to make. Kiram started to pull his hand back but Javier tightened his grip. Kiram relented too easily.

"I want to be with you. But then you know that. Does it please you to know how much I want you?" Blatant hunger edged Javier's voice. "That I lie awake, staring at your sleeping body, thinking of how close you are and how easily I could reach you? How easily I could tear off those flimsy white clothes you wear and have you? Some nights I hardly sleep at all."

Kiram opened his eyes. He expected some trace of resentment in Javier's expression but instead there was only that familiar look of rueful amusement.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I managed to use the time to get my armor to a high polish. It just gets cleaner the dirtier my thoughts get. But I wish I could inspire a few restless nights myself. You don't seem too easily inspired, though." Javier's gaze seemed to burn into Kiram. A lock of inky black hair fell across forehead. "If only I were some exquisite machine. Do you think you might miss a little sleep over me if I were made of gears and pistons?"

"I'd wonder who built you so well." Kiram wanted to tell Javier that he spent most nights dreaming of him. Some mornings he despised waking because it meant leaving the rapture of his fantasies.

"Do you think you'd be tempted to tinker with me?"

"Of course I would." Kiram pushed the lock of hair back from Javier's face.

"Was there really a girl you liked in Anacleto?"

"What? No." Kiram laughed at the thought. "I was talking about a man named Musni. He and I were close. But I always knew that it wouldn't work for us."

"Why not?" Javier asked the question so directly that Kiram wasn't quite sure how to respond. He and Musni had not been suited to each other for a dozen reasons. But one in particular had always kept him from committing his heart to Musni.

"I always knew that he would marry into a wealthy woman's household someday. He just liked being comfortable and normal too much not to. And his mother wouldn't have been happy until he did."

"You think your mother will be happy if you don't?"

"My mother knows I will never take a wife. She used to complain that it was a waste of my good breeding, but I think she secretly likes the idea that she'll never have to hand her baby boy over to another woman."

"But she doesn't care that you're." Javier seemed unable to find a word for what he wanted to say. "You're with a man?"

"That would depend on the man, I suppose. She wasn't all that fond of Musni, but that had more to do with his mother than anything else. On the other hand, there's a pharmacist, Hashiem Kir-Naham, who she constantly points out to me."

"And does this Hashiem Kir-Naham interest you?"

Four months ago he might have. Kiram stole a sidelong glance at Javier, taking in the long, sinuous muscles of his shoulder and neck, the hard contrast of his tousled black hair and his delicate pale features. He was scowling, filthy, and he wore his dueling sword like he planned to make his living with it, and Kiram still found him appealing.

Kiram shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, what is he like?" Javier pressed. "Short, ugly, old? Missing his teeth?"

"Not at all." Kiram laughed at the idea of any mother choosing such a man for her son. "He's older, thirty, I think. He's about my height. Very slim, and very formal. An only child, so he'll inherit his mother's pharmacy. His aunt owns several medicinal gardens, so he's well established in Anacleto."

Even as he described Hashiem Kir-Naham, Kiram felt a trapped dread spreading through him. Hashiem Kir-Naham was a perfect partner. Wealthy. Stable. Established.

Dull.

He would never ask Kiram to leave for the kingdom of Yuan in the dead of the night. He wouldn't dream of traveling into the Mirogoth lands or sailing across the White Sea. He certainly wouldn't hold him in his arms and open the white hell for him.

"He's nice," Kiram said, then seeing Javier's scowl deepening he quickly continued, "but he'll never leave the Haldiim district of Anacleto. I want to see more. I want to travel."

"Well, there is certainly much more of the world to see. I'd like to travel myself, someday." Javier looked almost wistful. "If you could go anywhere, where would you choose?"

"The kingdom of Yuan." Kiram decided after a moment of consideration. "My uncle Rafie told me the musicians there sharpen their thumbnails like knives and wear bright blue wigs."

"I'm not sure about the fingernails," Javier said, "but my family once entertained an ambassador from Yuan. Several of his attendants wore wigs like that. The ambassador himself had a long white wig, made of bird feathers."

"Did he invite you to take steam with him?"

"No, he didn't say anything to me. I was just a child at the time. Is steam one of their mystical potions?"