The Hidden Game

By Marie Brown

This omnibus edition contains all three novels in the Hidden Game series: Luminous, God's War, and Dawnfire.
Luminous:
Necessity forces Prince Telion of Amrontil to enter into an alliance marriage with Prince Farven of Vinge. Normal in Vinge, such a thing was completely unheard of in stuffy Amrontil. But Farven brings a cadre of powerful mages with him, and the promise to train any with mage ability to fight against the unstoppable armies of Un. Little does Telion know, his Prince also brings love and adventure...
God's War:
Farven and Telion return in this sequel to Luminous. Transformed from Princes into fugitives by the unbelievable events of a single chaotic night, the two decide to take their followers to the mysterious city of Prime, capitol of Vinge, the land once protected by the magical Barrier. But the aggressive Un warriors have no intention of letting the humans rest and regroup. Neither do the demons...
Dawnfire:
Farven and Telion return in the conclusion to the Hidden Game series. Humanity is given a fresh start on the beautiful, unspoiled world known as Dawnfire, but the two Princes must leave the lovely world behind on a journey through the worst hell of all to rescue God's partner, a Divine held captive in the Obsidian Heartbreak for six hundred years.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marie Brown
• Release date: Oct 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370802562

Marie Brown

"Marie Brown has lived in many locations across the United States, but spends most of her time exploring the realms of imagination. Currently located in Colorado, her brief moments of free time are spent in front of her computer, frequently covered in cats."Blah.Yeah, okay, that's all true. But I'm tired of hiding behind a bland, third-person pseudo-bio, utterly lacking in personality.Hi! I'm Marie Brown, and I write a lot. I self-publish through Smashwords and Amazon because I got tired of getting "well-written, but not our thing" rejection letters. Because, you see, most of my fiction tends to include characters that are either bi or just plain homosexual, and despite increasing acceptance of human sexuality and its many variations across the world, heroes and heroines are still supposed to be straight.Well, mine aren't. So if you're brave, and you don't mind that the main character of a story either isn't interested in sex at all, or is quite likely to hop in bed with someone of the same gender, then give my writings a chance. Come explore my fantasy worlds, or my science fiction worlds, or even spend some time with an occasional random love story set on Earth.And by the way, just this once, I wrote this entire blurb without a cat on my keyboard.

Book preview

The Hidden Game

Marie Brown

Smashwords Edition

©2016

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Luminous

The Hidden Game, Vol 1

Marie Brown

©2012

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Ceremony

Chapter 2: Wedding Night

Chapter 3: New World

Chapter 4: Trouble Comes To Roost

Chapter 5: Wanderers

Chapter 6: Barrier

Chapter 7: Blue Heaven

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Chapter 9: Arrival

Chapter 10: Moving Onward

Chapter 11: Journey of Discovery

Chapter 12: Akrabath

Chapter 13: Godrick

Chapter 14: A Dubious Victory

Chapter 15: Concatenation

Chapter 16: An Inconvenient Truth

Chapter 17: Nestra

Chapter 18: Anointed

Chapter 19: Fugitives

Ceremony

The hush settled heavily over the hall felt comprised more of apprehension than anticipation. Into this loaded, tense atmosphere, an open hand reached out and held steady, waiting.

After a long, quivering pause, another hand reached out and grasped it. The hall exhaled, not quite a sigh, as the High Priest draped a cord over the two wrists, beginning the ritual binding.

Hand to hand, life to life, this cord does bind, the High Priest said as she wrapped the silken cord securely. In the eyes of God, in the eyes of man, what was once two is now made one.

Light rippled down her subtly embroidered charcoal colored robe as she grasped forearms and raised the bound hands overhead. I call upon the Divine One to bless this union.

For an eternal second, nothing happened. Then a ripple passed through the watchers as the joined hands took on the warm radiance signifying divine blessing.

The High Priest gave the glow a sharp look and stepped back. It is done.

The eyes of the two men before her met and held, one set filled with grim determination, the other laced with fear.

Wedding Night

Click.

The door to the suite closed with a disturbingly final sound. Telion flexed his hand, noting the faint light tracing the path where the cord had lain. Evidently God wanted to leave him with a reminder of the blessing.

The glow remains, Farven sain in an uncanny echo of his thoughts. The blessing must be exceptionally strong.

Yes.

An awkward silence settled between the two. Telion looked around the suite, avoiding the doorway to the bedroom, and nearly tripped on his own feet when he decided to move. He flushed and sorted himself out, moving towards the lounger with nearly as much coordination as a two hour old foal. He sat, feeling the knot of apprehension in his midsection grow.

Nervous? Farven smiled and found a seat for himself on a chair near the lounger.

Telion tried to think of a way to mask it, then shrugged. What was the point? Rumor had it Vingians could read minds, anyway. Yes. This is a situation I never expected to find myself in.

Nor I, Farven said, eyes troubled. Although I have the advantage of you, as my culture practices the marriage of man to man on a near daily basis. I merely expected any man I might wed to be willing.

I— Telion choked to a halt. He closed his eyes for a moment, rubbed at them. In the trembling darkness behind his eyelids, he saw again the devastation reaching deep into the borders of his country, as the army of Un advanced. I am willing. I am just. . . uncertain. This is all unknown to me.

And to think, this could have been avoided, had you folk heeded our warning, Farven said, with a half smile. A light danced in his eyes that might have been either playful or mocking. But no, Amrontil as a whole rejected our words as mad ravings and sent our ambassador home.

That was my father, Telion muttered, feeling a burning shame. I—for fair, I thought the story your envoy brought sounded utterly implausible, but I was willing to believe. Really, what country would wish to make itself look a fool by sending envoys to other courts with blatant lies? But I had then, and still have now, nothing to say about policy.

Rest easy, spouse. It is long done. And what we did today heals the breach between our countries.

Yes. Telion fidgeted with his hands. That word. Spouse. Is that what we are to each other? We have no such word here. We use husband or wife, because always a marriage is of man and woman.

Whereas in my country marriage is a far more flexible institution. Yes, spouse is the term for male partners in marriage, or mate. Also sometimes we say partner, but that is usually for unmarried groups. There is always the more traditional husband, as well. And of course, some men prefer to be addressed as wife. He chuckled a little at that.

Groups, Telion repeated, shaking his head. Is it true, then?

Is what true? That we form collective marriages as well as couples? Yes.

I know so little of your folk, Telion said, finally looking at. . . his spouse. The man looked back at him, calm. His dark eyes were unreadable in his smooth, light-complected face, and his long dark hair drank in the lamplight. Telion noted the high cheekbones, the slightly too prominent nose, the strong chin that spoke of stubbornness, and wondered if the man found him attractive. Did he find Farven attractive? Rumor only, and of that not much.

Whereas I know much of your folk. From our side of the Barrier, we watch everyone and everything.

Tell me about yourself? We may have gone through a wedding ceremony today, but I know almost nothing of you.

Farven smiled. Thank you for asking. He considered for a moment, then shrugged. I really don't know what to say. I. . . well, I came from a medium sized family, and I have had little responsibility, as I am pretty far down the line of succession, so I've had the chance to live for myself. I enjoy the arts, and horses, and working with the hunting cats. And, of course, I am a mage of some ability.

That is more than I knew yesterday, but still leaves me with no clear picture of you as a person, Telion said. Art, horses, cats, and magic. At least we share common ground with the art and the horses. I've never even seen one of the Vingian hunting cats. In fact, there are those among us in this country that consider the cats nothing but myth, along with collective marriages and magic. Especially magic.

Not a myth, Farven assured him. Come. I know what is supposed to occur once the wedded couple retires to their suite, but I think I'd like to show you something instead.

He rose, graceful as a cat himself. He held out a still-glowing hand and Telion took it with only a slight hesitation. There is only one place I know well in this palace of yours. It is the part of the stable assigned to one of my best cats. I think you'll like her.

He led the way through the palace halls. Telion wondered at the glow still clinging to their joined hands. His people held that God only honored marriages between one man and one woman. All else was unclean, unnatural. And yet, the hidden people of Vinge practiced different forms of marriage, with the clear blessing of God. Their Church, recognizably the same as his, worshipped the same God, and yet split on this one fundamental practice that set their societies completely at odds with each other. And now, Telion himself was part of a marriage that only weeks ago would be condemned as blackest heresy. How could something be heretical when blessed by God? Perhaps there was something to the argument that Man made the law about marriage, not God.

The warm scent of horse greeted their entry into the vast stone stables, a familiar and comforting place to Telion. As a Prince of the realm, although not the heir, societal norms encouraged him in pursuit of manly activities like riding and hunting. Although he'd kept the true extent of his activities secret from the courtiers, of course. He rather doubted they would understand why he'd asked his first riding instructor to teach him how to groom the horses. He found something infinitely soothing about brushing the big creatures. Soothing, and utterly scandalous. No proper young man of his station ever dirtied his hands with manual labor, of course.

He recognized the stall Farven led him to before they reached it.

My stud horse was born here, he said, as they approached the big loose box. When I was nine. It was the first time I saw a horse born. It was disgusting and beautiful all at once.

Really? I've never seen it. But cats, on the other hand. . . I've attended many births. And here she is, Miss Lola.

He made a chirpy sound and opened both halves of the closed stall door. Inside, a beautiful creature made a sound much like a normal housecat's purr and stood, stretching. She was recognizable as a cat, but easily the size of a shepherd dog. Her yellowish coat bore dark markings like nothing he'd ever seen on a cat before. Spots, not stripes, and very regular. Her legs were long and lean, her body pure wiry muscle. She broke into a hearty, rumbling purr and came out of her stretch to rub against Farven's legs.

Lola is my favorite hunting cat, Farven said, rubbing behind her ears. She isn't the greatest huntress, mind, but she is indeed the friendliest cat I've bred. I keep her around for companionship more than anything.

The cat finished greeting Farven and moved on to sniff Telion's hand. He felt a little nervous because of her size, but she acted enough like one of the palace cats that he felt comfortable rubbing her ears.

They talked, then, of hunting, and horses, and the cats. Telion found himself liking this foreign Prince, now his spouse. That came as a relief. As a Prince, he'd always known his duty to the throne might someday include a state marriage, one that might bind him to someone he didn't necessarily like. History illustrated many such alliances. The Palace even boasted separate suites for royal marriage partners that didn't much like each other.

I'm getting hungry, Telion said, after the conversation ran down. Lola sprawled across both their outstretched legs as they leaned against the wall of the stall, side by side. Perhaps we should return to the suite and summon dinner.

Farven startled at the word summon. Then he laughed. I can see I have a lot to learn about this place of yours.

How so? I mean, obviously, neither of us knows much of the other's land. But what about the word 'summon' startled you so?

Where I come from, people summon entities to do their bidding, Farven replied, sounding very matter-of-fact. Not dinner.

Telion cocked his head, considering. Perhaps one day you will show me something of this magic of yours. I find the notion fascinating.

Farven shivered. Of course. Our mages will be arriving shortly, to help with your Un problem. But I do not summon anything. It is an unpleasant and dangerous practice, one I will have nothing to do with. But I am hungry as well, so let us leave Lola and return.

The cat made attractive pleading noises as the two men exited the stall, locking her securely within. Farven looked sad at leaving her, and Telion wondered if the cat could live in the Palace. Surely it was house trained?

Do they live in stables at your home? he asked awkwardly.

No. They live in a cattery, except for a select few. Those come in to the houses of their handlers.

We'll see about getting her moved in with us, Telion promised. The staff may have conniptions, but she is beautiful, and obviously the two of you are not happy with the separation.

That would be wonderful. I'd like to say she won't be any trouble, but I'm afraid I have to warn you instead. Lola is a cat. She is a very big cat. Do you get my meaning?

Telion laughed, suddenly painfully aware that he hadn't laughed since accepting the alliance terms put forward by the King of Vinge. Are you saying she'll be like the Palace cats? Sleep on pillows, attack shoes, and such?

Yes, quite. Only. . . more. She's big.

Telion laughed again.

You look like quite the different person when you laugh, Farven said, with a shy smile. It's good to see you smile.

I shall try to do so for you more often, then, Telion said, extending his hand. Farven took it, squeezing gently.

They returned to the suite and Telion summoned—that word again—a servant. Then he showed Farven how the velvet bellpulls worked.

Fascinating, Farven said. I had no idea how to call for staff here. So red for kitchen, blue for housekeeping, and white for a doctor?

Indeed.

The meal arrived faster than normal, breaking into a long moment when Telion felt trapped in Farven's eyes. He abruptly decided that he liked the unusual dark hazel shade and that he did indeed find Farven attractive. Then a servant hurried in bearing a covered tray.

Farven, my spouse, do the servants where you come from have miserably bad timing?

Farven laughed heartily. They do indeed. I think it is a part of their training when they are young. But whatever that is smells delicious, so let's eat and afterwards see if anything comes of privacy.

The servant's eyes bulged. The liveried man arranged a selection of plates on the dining table and hustled out of the room.

Telion watched him go, a faint smile tugging at his lips. What you just said will be all over the palace within an hour.

Does that disturb you? Farven sat at the table, watching his spouse closely.

Not nearly as much as it should, Telion said. Farven's face blossomed into a smile, bringing sparkle to his dark hazel eyes. I truly couldn't care less what the rumor-mongers are saying tonight. I know they will imagine the most exotic, decadent perversions their minds can generate, as all of them contemplate what two men will do on their wedding night.

And what of yourself? What are you imagining?

Myself? Do you really want to know? Telion arched an eyebrow, curious.

I think I do, Farven nodded slowly, holding Telion's gaze. Forgive me, but I've noticed you seem much. . . calmer now than you were earlier, and it makes me wonder what exactly is going on in your head.

Telion's face heated and he ducked his head, reaching for some food. Er. Well, if you must know, I know less than nothing of what to expect of you in any way. We have spent no time together before today. I was—am—quite nervous. Because, frankly, even if you were a woman, I would—well. Not really be comfortable. As it is, the situation is so far beyond my knowledge or experience that I'm at an utter loss.

Farven helped himself to some of the succulent roast fowl, eyes wide. You mean. . . It seems, um. . . Have you no, well, sexual experience?

Telion blushed at hearing it out in the open like that, but nodded. That is how it is done here, after all. Sex is something that happens only when people are married, and only to try to make babies.

How. . . foreign. Farven nibbled at his food, smiled in surprise. This roast bird is amazing! But, in my country, we are taught about how to give and receive pleasure in school, right along with how to read and the history of our kingdom. We regard sex as something that is a wonderful gift from God, not like some kind of chore. We are taught the ways of pleasing our partners and ourselves and given free reign to do such things, once we are old enough to understand the responsibilities that go with sexual activity. Naturally, we are encouraged to keep such joys for truly special relationships, but it is an accepted part of life that people enjoy sex and will have it no matter what.

Telion's blush deepened. I think. . . I think I may prefer your people's attitude to that of my own.

I hope you do, Farven smiled. But for now, let us leave such a touchy subject alone, until after we finish this most excellent meal.

Telion smiled, despite his flaming face. As you wish.

The meal was truly excellent, Telion agreed, which made perfect sense. After all, surely the kitchens would outdo themselves, preparing food for such a momentous occasion. It was hardly every day that a Prince of the realm entered into an alliance marriage with the unknown country from behind the Barrier. It was even more unusual that said marriage brought new ideas, new concepts, new ways of thought. . . Although, of course, some of the oldest sticks in the mud muttered and grumbled about the alliance bringing change that was as deadly to the ways of the realm as the armies of Un. Telion disagreed with them heartily, even more by the minute as he learned that Vingians were people too.

You know, he said, nibbling on a fresh roll, getting to know you is definitely proving the stodgy old farts wrong.

How so?

Well, after talking to you for a while, I can see that you're no demon, that you don't devour babies for breakfast, and clearly you don't have the desire to demolish all life as we know it.

Farven laughed heartily. Hooray for diplomacy! I shall have to inform my father he needs a new diplomatic corps, if that is the impression our envoys left in your heads.

Not in everyone's heads, Telion assured him, smiling shyly. And not your diplomats, either, merely speculation on what lies beyond the Barrier, brewed only in the closed minds of the stodgiest old farts. Surely you have those too? You must. I fail to see how any human society can escape the presence of cranky old curmudgeons.

Oh, we have them, all right, Farven nodded. Our old farts, as you term them, get removed from positions of power when they reach a certain state of closed-mindedness. We call it retirement.

Hmm. Your culture seems to have several improvements over mine. Here, the old are revered, for surely they must be doing something right if they've survived to become old.

A good point. I'm certain our elders will be after us in no time to adopt that notion. But wait, I keep saying 'us' and 'our'. . . This is quite awkward. I must remember I'm here in Amrontil now. And guess what? I'm tied to it for life. He held up his hand, traces of light shimmering still. There is no mistaking the blessing.

No. Telion held up his own hand, with its lingering eldritch glow. "Such a strong blessing. . . I know this will work out well. Let my people say what they will, God has made His approval clear. Oops, see? I'm doing it now. Let our people say what they will."

And they will, I'm sure, Farven sighed. People do tend to fear drastic change, and I can't think of much more drastic change than Vingians emerging from behind the Barrier and forming alliances with those that once scorned us so heartily as fools and liars.

I think both of us are going to have to keep that fact in mind, Telion said, although he was somewhat distracted by the graceful way his spouse's hand moved. He hadn't truly noticed such details before now. Truly, he'd noticed the man was graceful, as who wouldn't? But not the specific grace of the hand, long and strong, yet almost fine-boned. . . Not a good description. He broke off the search for a good word to describe his spouse's hands and continued his thought. We are both now a highly visible symbol of change. And I am afraid we will face troubles aplenty in the future, from those who fear the new.

Yes. Farven sighed. But we will triumph, in the end. To think otherwise is useless self-sabotage.

I think you have much to teach me and my hidebound folk, Telion said, pushing his chair back from the table. The remains of the excellent meal lay on the table between them. But now I am full, and don't want to be around the leftovers. Shall we take our conversation elsewhere?

Telion very carefully did not look at the curtained doorway to the bedroom.

Certainly. Farven smiled and rose. He glanced around, and his eye caught on the lounger. Perhaps over there? You people have such odd notions of furniture, I don't even know the right word. Is that a lounger?

It is indeed. What do you folk sit on, if not loungers?

"Oh, we call them by the same name, but our loungers are. . . less structured, let's say. Lower, more cushioned, designed for comfort and, well, lounging rather than decoration."

I truly begin to see why you folk have such a reputation for hedonism, Telion laughed, crossing the room to settle on the prim embroidered lounger. Comfort has no place in polite society. It is all about appearances. Do you know nothing, you uncultured barbarian?

Then he caught his breath, wondering if he'd gone too far.

Uncultured, am I? Fortunately, Farven laughed. You're the one whose people left in ignorance about the pleasures of the flesh.

Telion's face flamed. I confess, he choked out, around a sudden rush of nervousness that gripped his throat like a vice. "Guilty as charged. Around here, we don't even admit the flesh can have pleasures."

Farven settled down beside him, close but not touching. I feel sorry for you. And indeed, for all of your population. How ever do you people produce the next generation, if there's no fun to be had?

Duty, Telion shrugged. It is the duty of a married couple to reproduce.

Guess we're in trouble, then. Farven smiled. "No reproduction from our union."

No trouble there, Telion said, abruptly sober. There are plenty of parentless children now, thanks to the devastations of Un.

Tell me what happened here, Farven said, eyes darkening with worry.

After your envoy warned us of the approaching danger, we continued living on, just as we had been. Why shouldn't we? There was no reason to prepare for some nameless, formless threat, that even the ones who bore the warning knew nothing of. And then it happened. He sighed heavily. "The first indication was a disruption in shipping. One of the trains didn't arrive. And then. . . then. The next train to Allendale, out on the border, had to stop because there was no more track. The engineer got out and investigated and found. . . Devastation. Utter, complete devastation. There was nothing left. He backed the train up until he reached the nearest town and sent a messenger to the capital. We sent out a unit of the Army, but it was far too late. I went myself. I saw the. . . wreckage, I suppose, is a good word. Looked worse than anything I'd ever seen. Nobody left living. No crops, no trees, nothing. The ground itself was barren, shredded. . . destroyed. And no sign of what did it. None. We finally saw them, after they'd hit three other border locations. They look like suits of armor from ancient history, but they contain no living beings, only moving metal parts and wires that put our trains to shame. And there is no stopping them. They are vicious, mindless killers, and their advance cuts down all opposition with no effort at all. That's why the Court decided unanimously to approach you folk, see if we could mend our fences and be allies. You control the magic. That is all we can think of to combat this threat. And so, here we are."

Yes, here we are, Farven said, eyes deeply disturbed. Representatives of two wildly divergent cultures, forming a symbolic union between magic and military might, to combat the forces of Un.

Only symbolic? Telion asked, feeling a pang of regret.

Farven smiled suddenly, pure mischief chasing the bleakness from his expressive eyes. Not necessarily.

Then he moved swiftly, capturing Telion's lips with his own, and pulling his spouse into a warm and welcoming embrace.

Telion's eyes flew open with shock and he tensed all over.

Relax, Farven murmured. Enjoy the new experience.

Then he kissed Telion again. This time, Telion made a conscious effort to relax. He saw that Farven's eyes were closed, and let his own lids drift shut. He reached out and touched Farven, suddenly recognizing he'd wanted to do so for a while now. The other man's wedding tunic felt indescribably soft and warm. Telion wondered at the fabric, then forgot it in surprise as he felt a warm tongue lick at his lips. Shocking, but not unpleasant, he decided, and allowed the exploration, learning by the moment. Then Farven broke off the kiss.

Telion, my spouse, he said, breathing hard. Are you willing to explore the joys our bodies can bring us?

Show me, Telion replied, a mere whisper. Teach me.

Come with me, and Farven rose, drawing Telion with him towards the curtained doorway to the sleeping chamber. Telion had a brief moment to wonder what was in there—after all, they'd only been moved into this suite today, and he'd been too busy to explore it—before they went through the curtained doorway. A pair of candles, the fat kind with many wicks, filled the room with a warm flickering glow. The bed beckoned to them, large and inviting.

Do what feels good, Farven said, then pulled Telion into another close embrace.

Telion felt stirrings within his body he'd been taught to ignore, told such things were evil and displeasing to God. Farven, he whispered, then tried again, looking intently at the man who held him. Candlelight softened his strong features, glimmered in his eyes. Farven. Tell me again it is not evil to feel the things I feel inside.

Farven smiled and touched his cheek tenderly. No, Telion. The feelings are a gift from God, and not evil. Look you here, and he held up his glowing hand for inspection. The blessing is still visible. And see? It is upon you, too. How can evil be marked with God's favor?

It can not, Telion replied. He noted that the glow had brightened, proving beyond a doubt that God was with them. So he surrendered to the unfamiliar sensations and kissed his husband.

What followed was an experience more akin to magic than anything Telion had ever imagined. Farven touched him in ways he'd never dreamed possible, encouraging him in explorations of his own, and leading him to an awareness of his own body that transcended everything he'd always known about sex.

This time, I will love you, Farven whispered at one point, doing something slippery down there that made Telion gasp. Relax, and enjoy, and next time you will know what to do to me. Such is the way of men. Hold a man inside your body, be held inside his, either way is a pleasure so intense. . .

Then Farven entered, carefully. Telion gasped in shock, then moaned, thrashing.

Shh. . . relax, and enjoy. Feel me. . . feel you. . . Let me show you. . .

His words disintegrated into harsh, panting gasps. He moved slowly at first, quivering with the effort of holding back, until he felt Telion move into his restrained thrusting. Then he relaxed a bit, let himself move more freely, and used his hand to stroke Telion almost to the point of release. Panting, moaning, Telion ground against him, trying to say something coherent.

"More. . . More. . . I want. . ."

Farven made sure Telion was fully sated before taking his own pleasure. Then he withdrew and relaxed against his husband. Telion's hand sought his own, and Farven noticed something incongruous.

Telion, love, open your eyes. What do you see?

Telion let out a sleepy sound of complaint, but obeyed. One eye cracked open, and he saw. . . Both eyes shot open, and he struggled into an upright position.

Farven, why are we lit up like a pair of storm lanterns?

Their bodies shone with the golden God-glow, all over. Farven chuckled and pulled Telion back down into his embrace. I don't know, truly, but there's nothing to be done about it now. Let's get some sleep. We can ask the priests in the morning.

Fair enough, Telion replied, snuggling back into the warmth of the bed. Thank you. . .

His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was one of wonder at the joys his body held, all unknown to him and his entire culture.

New World

The new day dawned, but few could tell. The sky grumbled with heavy, dark clouds. Telion woke with a tense, expectant feeling. Something momentous would happen today.

Then he smiled and reached for Farven's arm where it circled his waist. Something momentous had already happened. He noticed the faint glow remained still, even visible in the sullen daylight, and wondered at it. Then he twisted around to kiss Farven awake.

Farven woke quickly, something Telion had never been good at, alert and smiling a welcome. Good morning.

This is easily the best morning I can remember, Telion said, touching Farven's face.

Really? I can think of a way to make it better.

Oh? Then Telion gasped, as Farven's hands did something new. Farven!

Love me, Telion, Farven murmured. Start the day right.

This time, Telion felt more sure of himself, and of what to do. He used his new knowledge to good advantage, although he felt content to let Farven take the lead.

Afterwards, they rested in each other's arms, until Telion noticed the increased brightness of glow.

Uh, Farven? We need to ask the priests about this. He extended a glowing arm and flexed his fingers.

Farven sat upright, frowning at his glowing body. Good point. Can we get some food in here, do you think?

Certainly. I'll go summon—call for it right now.

Telion glanced around the bedroom. Large, curtained bed, that part he knew. He smiled. Double doors, nearly all glass, opening onto a private garden. Nice. And there, by the doorway into the main suite, a standing wardrobe. He opened it and found his dressing gown. Of course, the servants would have moved all his and Farven's possessions in here the day before. He put on the robe and sought the bellpull to call for breakfast.

The servants that brought breakfast were well trained enough to not say anything, but he could feel their quivering tension and curiosity, which increased a hundredfold as Farven emerged from the bedroom clad only in a loose, shimmering robe.

That fabric! Telion exclaimed, jumping up to stand close to Farven and touch it. What is this?

The color of prized turquoise rocks, the robe glimmered and shimmered like a waterfall. Smooth, slippery, heavier than it looked, the fabric slid through Telion's fingers like a liquid. Farven smiled and touched his hand lightly.

It's called tussah. Not a pretty word, perhaps, but the loveliness of the completed mantua makes up for the harshness of the fabric's name.

This, then, is a mantua? The robe itself?

Yes. Language lessons aside, what's under that dome?

Telion laughed and turned towards the table. He noticed servants hovering and gave them a significant look. They left.

Breakfast must have tasted good, because it went down easily, but Telion honestly didn't remember a thing about what it was. Instead, he remembered Farven, eating his food with evident pleasure. He remembered the way the greyish daylight spilled in through the large bay window overlooking the private garden. He drank in the slight ripple of muscle when the mantua slipped back to reveal strong arms traced with shimmering light, the same arms which had held him through the night. And his heart nearly stopped in his chest when Farven smiled at him.

You seem a changed person today, love. What goes on in that head of yours?

How could I not be changed, after the events of yesterday and last night? Telion laughed. Allow me to put it this way. Today, in light of our own glowing skins, I feel totally different about being married to a man. In fact, I am quite pleased with the situation. You are an intriguing person, you bring new knowledge and unimagined delights, and the future seems much brighter today in general.

Agreed, Farven smiled. I find your company very congenial. I will not trouble you with my fears before the wedding. Suffice it to say I felt similar to you, filled with apprehension, and expecting this to be an unpleasant duty, rather than a potential joyous and loving relationship.

Telion smiled and felt warm inside.

Then he rose and prowled restlessly around the suite as Farven finished eating. It looked like the chatelaine held the Princes in high regard. Telion felt a brief cynical conviction that the chatelaine had shown honor to the new Prince, not the existing one, then he dismissed the notion. No matter how he was personally regarded by his people prior to the advance of Un, now he was the instrument of the future. The suite consisted of three levels, connected by a winding spiral staircase. He found the public sitting room, two private sitting rooms, a library, a luxurious bathing room, and an empty room of no clear purpose.

Telion? Where did you go?

Exploring, Telion called back down the stairs, from the third floor. Any idea what we're supposed to do with the empty room?

Farven met him at the bottom of the stairway, smiling. Magic.

You're—no, wait. Magic is real. You're serious? Telion grinned like a silly boy. Magic?

Yes. I'll teach you anything you can learn in there. But now, get dressed, and we'll be off.

Telion smiled in appreciation as he looked over Farven's outfit, all green and gold, and none of it prim or uncomfortable like current Court fashion dictated. You Vingians sure are snappy dressers.

Thanks. Perhaps I'd better bend tradition a little and give you my pledge-gift now.

Your what?

Pledge-gift. When a marriage occurs, it is customary for my people to exchange gifts after the first week, to promise that the joy of the new union will carry on into the future. But I think I'd like to give you yours now.

Farven disappeared into the bedroom, emerging a moment later with a plain wrapped, flat parcel. When I chose this, I knew only your name, and that you stand fourth in line for the throne of Amrontil. As a result, the choice is rather generalized, being something nearly anyone from your land might covet.

You've got me curious, Telion confessed, accepting the parcel. We have no such custom here. . . yet. It sounds like a lovely tradition. He fiddled with the twine securing the package, then gave it a sharp tug. It untied with a satisfying ease and allowed the rough brown wrapping to fall open, exposing a rich red-gold wealth of shimmering fabric. Ohh. . .

Telion dropped the wrapper, and shook free a glorious robe of more unfamiliar fabrics. He recognized the tussah, a wide band around the neckline and extending down the front, nearly the same color as the body of the robe only more brilliant, with shimmering golden embroidery. The main robe itself was soft, and dense, and. . . Isn't this the same stuff your wedding tunic was made from?

Yes, velvet. Farven smiled at his husband's visible pleasure. I take it the robe is to your liking?

Very much so. Telion snuck a look at his grinning spouse and decided to do away with yet another Amrontilian prudery. He shrugged out of his own dressing gown, suddenly plain and dingy in comparison to the lovely new robe, and felt a sly smile tug at his own lips as Farven's breath caught. Then he pulled the new robe over his head with a sensuous wriggle at the unaccustomed luxurious feel against his skin.

You look good enough to eat, Farven said, stepping close for a kiss. Telion heard the roughness in his voice and felt good, knowing he could excite desire in his spouse.

But, Telion said, after reveling in the taste of his lover for a long moment, we must go do something about this.

He held up his hand, now glowing even brighter.

Blast. You're right. Let's go get this over with, then we can return to this private suite of ours and enjoy each other.

But with an addition. On the way to the priests, let's stop and speak to the chatelaine.

The who?

The woman in charge of the domestic affairs of the Palace. We've got a garden, there's no reason we can't have Lola in here with us. The chatelaine will make sure the servants know how to deal with her.

Thank you, Farven said, touching Telion's cheek lightly.

Of course, the chatelaine wasn't nearly so calm about the notion. She gave the two Princes a long, measuring look when Telion told her the cat would be sharing their suite, then blinked and looked closer when she noticed the glow.

Animals belong in stables, the chatelaine said, with a sniff.

Not cats. You know perfectly well the Palace is filled with cats. This cat may be larger than ours, but she is important to my new husband. As such, you will honor the wishes of your Princes, and accept this large cat living in our quarters. Prince Farven? What are Lola's requirements?

She needs meat, came the quick reply. Telion felt certain the sparkle in Farven's eyes, lurking behind the seriousness, came from amusement at the chatelaine's distress. A good sized platter of fresh, raw meat, twice a day. And it would be best if you assign us permanent servants, ones who have no fear of animals. If we have the same set of servants, they will be used to Lola, and she to them. Otherwise there may be accidents.

Accidents! The chatelaine's eyes widened in horror. Look you, Prince of Vinge, I will have no accidents with dangerous animals in my Palace—

I suggest you stop right there, Chatelaine, Telion said, voice cold and very firm. I have authorized this on my authority as Prince. You will do as Prince Farven asks, assign people to serve us who are unafraid of animals, and there will be no issues with accidents. I have met the beast myself, and can assure you she is utterly charming. All will be well. Understood?

Very well, Prince Telion. But I will have you know, if there are any 'accidents'—

There will be none, Farven overrode her threat, or promise. Arrange for the staff to meet us in our chambers at the second hour of the afternoon. That will be all.

They left the clearly upset chatelaine behind them and continued on through the Palace.

I wonder at your customs, Farven said. I need you to guide me, otherwise I will likely offend someone I should not.

How so?

You handle subordinates in a way similar, yet different, from what I am accustomed to, that is all.

That hardly surprises me, Telion said, after considering the words for a moment. After all, our cultures are wildly divergent in some ways, but spring from a similar base, the Church.

Indeed. Where are we going? I've been trying to follow turnings, but I confess, I'm rather lost.

Telion smiled. No fear, you can always count on me or a servant to guide you until you know your way. The Palace ways will come to you soon enough.

I hope so, Farven replied.

Now, we're heading outside, Telion told him. That should help. It's easier to see where to go out there. The Cathedral and the Priest's College are unmistakable.

You have an entire college of priests here?

Yes, and they are right over there. They emerged into the grey day and Telion pointed to the massive Cathedral complex. The Cathedral itself reared against the sky, grey and stone and comprised of pointed arches and dramatic towers. The college was less impressive, but very solid, made of the same grey stone. Heavy and permanent, the complex deserved its feeling of great age, as it had all been constructed roughly eight hundred years in the past.

Very impressive, Farven said, craning his neck to look at the tops of the towers. I can see where my folk missed out on some exciting things by disdaining technology for so long. Our architects focus more on designing glorious bridges than buildings, and designing pleasing gardens.

I am glad, Telion said. This means cultural exchange, when the war is won.

So optimistic, Farven smiled. I admire that in you.

Optimism? Perhaps. I think it's more that I'm terrified of the alternative, so it is easier to think of a time after the war.

I can understand that, Farven said, then pointed at the Cathedral tower. What is that? The statue, I mean, of the creature.

Then he yelped, as a big fat raindrop plopped onto his face. Rain! Oh no, quick, get inside. Your habilem! It must not get rained on.

The two Princes dropped their dignity and bolted across the paved courtyard into the Cathedral. No sooner had they reached the safety of the entryway then the sky opened up and dropped sheets of rain onto the Palace and surroundings.

Close call, Telion said, snuggling into Farven's protective embrace. They shared a brief kiss, then entered the Cathedral, passing through the majestic building to the more mundane passage connecting Cathedral to college.

They found the High Priest in an administrative office, wearing common dark robes and frowning at paperwork. She looked up at Farven's polite knock on the doorframe.

Yes? Can I help you, Princes?

Then her eyes sharpened and she rose with alacrity to stand in front of them, examining both faintly glowing young men minutely.

Yes, High Priest. As you can see, the God-glow has spread, and we were wondering if you could tell us why?

The priest's gaze turned into a glare for a moment, before she controlled the expression and it shifted to professionally neutral.

Prince Telion, Prince Farven, both of you appear to be manifesting something not seen in this land since the time of the Sundering.

The what? The married couple spoke as one, and exchanged a wry glance.

The High Priest sighed and sealed the door. Please, have a seat. There is a long story to tell, and it is hidden knowledge. I may not tell all of it to uninitiated people such as yourself. But clearly you have a right to know the pertinent facts.

She sank into her chair, rubbing briefly at a new-formed pain wrinkle between her eyes. Do either of you know the word Exemplar?

A mythical being, Farven replied promptly. Supposedly filled with great virtue and chosen by God. . . His voice faltered and he glanced at his glowing arms.

The chosen warriors of God? Is that what you're saying we are?

No, Prince Telion. That is what you said you are. However, I believe the assessment may be accurate. The priest's frosty gaze rested on both of them for an uncomfortable moment. There has not been a confirmed Exemplar since Tevus.

Tevus the Traitor?

Tevus Prime?

This time, the look the spouses turned on each other was filled with unease.

Yes. Tevus, known as Traitor to those he left behind, known as Prime to those he took with him. Once, slightly more than a thousand years ago, our societies were one. Amrontil and Vinge were one nation, in the hand of God. But then came the Sundering, when that single nation broke into two over fundamental differences I may not speak of. Tevus, the last known Exemplar, collected his followers, gutting our fledgling nation on the verge of winter, and retreated behind the Barrier.

This information about Tevus bears much thinking on, Farven said slowly. But I believe it is somewhat beside the point. This glow, it marks us as warriors chosen by God?

The God-glow only covers the entire body when an individual has been chosen to serve. I can only assume it signifies the same thing when a couple has been chosen as well.

High Priest, you are saying Farven and I serve God directly, now. Why do you seem so displeased?

Farven nudged Telion. The priest's coldness intensified.

Perhaps we should be going, Farven said urgently.

Warriors of God, Exemplars, you have been chosen by God without the approval of the Church. I do not know what this means for you, especially as your very wedding is outside the traditional purview of the Church. Perhaps you should pray to God for guidance, for I have none to offer.

Farven rose and dragged Telion with him, away from the furious High Priest. They closed the door behind them and suddenly felt the atmosphere clear as the coldness of the High Priest was trapped inside the office with her.

I must confess, Telion said, somewhat breathless, she actually scared me for a moment there.

Me, too. Farven squeezed Telion's arm. Let's get out of here. Is there a way back to the Palace that doesn't involve getting wet?

Telion laughed weakly. Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. An underground passage system connects most of the complex with each other for bad weather. Then, as he started to walk, a thought struck Telion so hard he stumbled. Farven caught his arm, steadying him.

What is it?

Farven, forgive me if this is rude, but. . . Vingians are supposedly able to read thoughts with their magic. Is it true? And if so, do you know what angered the priest so?

Farven snorted. Some Vingians can indeed read thoughts, but not I. My talents lie in other realms.

The tunnel wasn't far from the administrative offices, and they reached it quickly.

I have a theory, though, Farven continued some time later, as they entered into the tunnel.

About the priest?

Indeed. She seemed furious that we were marked by God, not chosen by her. Did she not?

Good point. Perhaps she prefers to control God's actions as thoroughly as she does man's, through the power of the Church?

That seems as reasonable as any other explanation of why a Church official would welcome Exemplars with outright hostility.

Exemplar. . . Telion sighed. I almost wish we hadn't asked about the glow, now. It's enough pressure being the ones to unite two utterly different kingdoms without having to fight God's enemies as well.

And on that subject, did you know our kingdoms were once one? I certainly didn't!

I did not. Nor did I know our history's most reviled figure is one of your history's heroes.

Different sides of the same coin, the Vingian said.

Indeed. They lapsed into a thoughtful silence then, as Telion led the way through the torchlit corridors.

Tell me, Telion said, as they emerged into the Palace sublevels, when are your folk going to arrive here?

Probably within a week or two, Farven replied. Why?

Perhaps your folk will be more helpful to us than mine.

Maybe so. We can hope, anyway—oh, blast!

What's wrong?

I forgot to ask you to swing by the stables so we could collect Lola.

Drat. Let's have a look outside first, okay? I don't want to ruin this lovely robe before I've even properly gotten to show it off.

Habilem.

Habilem, Telion repeated, trying out the new word. Do you have different words for every garment?

Pretty much. We have, as you noticed, a rather decadent culture, with large numbers of folk dedicated to pursuits of art and beauty. That tends to spawn great dedication to fashion.

Telion laughed. He found a staircase that should lead them to the kitchens, which it did. They wound their way through the kitchen, Telion clutching his habilem protectively close, and peered out the back door.

Looks safe enough, Farven said. Let's go for it.

They hurried down the still-damp gravel pathways through the kitchen gardens. From there, it was a respectable trek through paddocks and exercise yards to the stable. By the time they got there, Telion heartily regretted that he hadn't taken time to change, a regret which deepened when he thought of the cat hair soon to be on his lovely robe. Habilem.

Farven, he said, over the enthusiastic sounds of feline greeting, you have such fantastic, beautiful garments. Is there any chance your people will trade with mine?

More than a chance, Farven replied, grinning. "That habilem? You should have seen the merchants competing with each other to make sure I chose their wares over any other. All I had to do was hint that I needed a pledge-gift fit for a Prince and they were falling all over themselves. See, if the chosen gift impressed you properly, you would ask just the quesion you did, opening the door to an entirely new market. I think they will be frantic with delight to find how, well. . ."

How boring our textiles are? Telion supplied, with a crooked grin. Embroidered cottons and linens have nothing on your tussah and velvet.

Farven stepped away from his ecstatic cat and reached for his husband. I shall enjoy opening your eyes to the wider world, he murmured, nibbling on Telion's neck.

Telion shivered. You already have, he managed to say, through the sudden excited trembling he felt.

But there is more, there is so much more. . . His hands stroked at Telion, provoking more shivers.

I think we need to get back home now, Telion gasped.

We could stay here, Farven said, temptation dripping from his voice.

We could, Telion agreed, but pulled away, with difficulty. But I want to enjoy you, not worry about splinters and prickly straw and stablehands.

I'll give you that, Farven nodded. Okay. He retrieved his hands and reached outside the stall door, removing a leash from a hook on the wall.

Telion tried to recover his composure. It was difficult, very difficult, when all he wanted to do was enjoy more of the decadent sexual activity Farven had introduced him to. Then he noticed his glow was flaring again. That helped him control his wayward desires. As he calmed himself, the glow died down.

That's interesting.

What is? Farven had the cat leashed now, ready to go.

This glow. It seems linked to my, er, emotional state.

Does it now? Farven looked at himself. It does seem more intense when we're, uh, involved. We need to learn to use this. We should have asked the priest more about what the glow can do.

Sorry I upset her, Telion said, rubbing the big cat's head.

Don't be. There was little you could do. She was predisposed to irritation.

Yes, I agree. Now let's take Miss Lola home.

The day passed in a rush of activity and playing with the cat. Half a dozen servants showed up at the appointed time to meet Lola and learn how to approach her without fear. The chatelaine, although angry with the Princes, had still chosen well and sent them servants that found Lola charming instead of frightening. And while they looked askance at the two married men, they seemed to take the unusual couple in stride, as well.

Once they were gone, Telion sat in the window seat overlooking the private garden. The flowers looked clean and fresh from the earlier rain, even in the indirect light that managed to penetrate the clouds.

What are you thinking? Farven leaned against the wall nearby.

Looking out over this beauty, it is difficult to remember that the borders are overrun. What are we going to do to combat the forces of Un?

My dear husband, Farven said, kneading at tense shoulder muscles. Telion sighed. We were just wedded yesterday. Surely we are entitled to a few days to get to know each other before taking on the problems of the world?

That feels good, Telion said indistinctly. Yes, I suppose you're right. I just feel incredible guilt.

Relax. My folk will be here sometime soon. When they arrive, we can get right to work, and you can take us all to the borders to see this disaster for ourselves. Have you recalled your military leaders?

I have little to do with high command, Telion confessed. I am but the third son. I don't really have much authority, although I do have lands. Which, might I add, are worthless now, ground into nothing but barren, lifeless dirt.

I'm sorry.

Not your fault, Telion said automatically. Tell me, I know nothing of your position, other than the obvious fact that you're the son of a king. Are you the heir?

No, I'm the youngest of six, Farven replied. It would take a mighty bad disaster to put me on the throne, and I for one don't want to see a disaster of that magnitude.

Six! All boys?

No, there's three girls in there, too. But you see, we let girls inherit as well as boys, something I don't think you lot do.

No, you're right there, that we don't. Otherwise I'd be fifth in line, since I have an older sister, and the heir has an heir of his own. Oh, that's an awful tense spot! I really am beginning to enjoy these cultural differences of ours.

Are you now?

Yes. At first I was afraid of the differences, and especially afraid of you. But I'm learning. There is little to fear, because you are no more a scary monster than I am. And as for differences, well, I'm finding hearing about your ways fascinating. I can only hope the rest of my society is as open minded as I've become over the last day. . . and night.

Farven smiled and patted Telion's shoulders before dropping down to kneel before him. And did you enjoy your awakening last night?

Telion blushed. You know I did.

And what would you say now if I told you I find you irresistably attractive?

Really? Telion grinned hugely. You do? That's wonderful!

Yes, I do, Farven said, serious, although a smile played around his mouth. And I want to show you something new, now that you can't protest about straw or stablehands.

Telion twitched. His breathing quickened. What?

This, Farven said, and busied his hands raising the habilem.

Telion gasped and moaned. Farven, what did you just do!

Hush. Enjoy. Watch, if you want. I really want to taste you.

Telion let him do as he pleased, and watched, and learned. It felt so good he resolved to return the favor at the earliest opportunity.

Afterwards, Telion lounged back against the window, thoroughly content with life. Farven hauled himself up on the windowseat as well, smiling at him.

You certainly seem happy.

And so do you. Telion returned the smile. I can't begin to tell you how wonderful you are, especially compared to what I feared from this union.

Tell me how you thought I'd be, and I'll tell you what I expected of you. Then we can laugh at each other equally.

Telion laughed. Very well, if you must know, I figured you would be some kind of incomprehensible maniac, with omniscient powers of magic. The thought of being alone with you scared me silly.

What changed your mind? Farven cocked his head to the side, clearly curious.

For starters, God blessed our union. He wouldn't bless a bad marriage.

Very true.

Plus, talking to you, I made an effort to see you as a person, not a symbol of alliance. You are a very interesting person. And the more I look at you, the better you look.

Farven laughed. Why, thank you! Do keep on looking, then. Okay, your turn to laugh at me. See, I had an advantage, in knowing far more about the outside world than you know about Vinge. So I expected you to be stodgy, stuck up, boring, and prudish.

Really. Telion snorted. The prudery is taught here along with how to speak, but you have shattered it beyond recognition with your hedonistic ways.

Farven looked satisfied as a cat with a bowl of cream. I know. And that makes me happy.

Me too, Telion confessed. "I admit it, I enjoy touching you. And being touched by you. And I want to learn all the ways of pleasure that come