Darshan inclined his head. “Then we head south as per your suggestion.” His lover had become subdued since exiting the castle proper. Hamish didn’t blame him.
His gaze drifted to the southern horizon. Much of it was a haze of grey sky and green land. “I havenae travelled that way for years. I’ve had nae reason to. Nae since I was a lad with a bright future ahead of me.”
Darshan stretched out a hand, clasping Hamish’s. “It still is, mea lux. Even if we have to light the path ourselves, the future is no less bright for us.”
Hamish clung tight to the railing as another tumultuous wave smacked into the bow of the cargo ship. The briny scent of the sea filled his nostrils and the call of gulls was thick in the air, never failing to bring a lump to his throat for the home he had left behind no more than a fortnight ago.
He tucked a few wispy coils of hair behind his ear. Although the wind whisked the cargo ship along at a mighty clip, it failed to touch them thanks to the magic of Darshan’s shield.
Hamish had been lured up here by the man in question, finally relenting to Darshan’s eager insistence of leaving their small accommodations for the open air.
Darshan stood before him with barely a hand on the railing to steady himself. His attention was largely trained on the massive stone bridge spanning between two cliffs. “There it is,” Darshan breathed. “Freedom’s Leap.”
Even though most maps showed only open ocean through the pass, the bridge connected one side of the strait to the other. It seemed spindly compared to the surrounding land, but the rocky formation had to be as wide as the ship was long.
“I’ve only ever heard of it,” Hamish confessed. This was where the first of the nomadic elven clans fled what used to be part of the burgeoning Udynean kingdom—land that was now part of Obuzan. “None of Calder’s cargo ever came this far south.” And even if they had, his mother wouldn’t have allowed him to take a journey that could potentially lead him onto foreign soil.
“Quite a feat of magic, is it not?” Darshan continued to gush, the words tumbling over themselves as he continued. “Legend tells that the first bridge the elves built tumbled into the sea. And took a great many of the Udynean slavers foolish enough to set foot on it.” He laughed as if it was the folly of another empire.
“And the elves?”
Darshan sobered at the question. “Some escaped, I suppose. Where else would the tale have come from?” He nodded at the bridge. “They say the nomadic elves strengthen the magic keeping it in place during each crossing.”
Hamish’s stomach flipped at the thought of traversing such a structure. One wrong step would send a person plummeting into the water. Or worse, see them smashing against the cliff face.
“How did it become Obuzan?”
Darshan inclined his head, his lips pursing. “Through our sheer arrogance. Obuzan was a sect in the northern part of the kingdom that despised all things magic. When Udynea stretched herself to the east, that sect came snapping out at our flanks.” He shrugged. “The empire could not fight on two fronts and annihilating our neighbours held more promise than returning to a place where resources were already depleted.”
“You’re very clinical about it.”
Darshan gave another shrug, just as nonchalant as the first. “It was hundreds of years ago. Almost two millennia. Why get passionate over ancient history?” He cleared his throat, his gaze still on the bridge as the ship sailed directly beneath it. A few fist-sized rocks splashed into the sea not far from the railing. “I… um…”
If Darshan spoke further, Hamish certainly heard nothing over the pounding of his heart and the questions darting about his mind like gulls. Did Darshan’s heart thump as heavily? How much crushing rock could his shield deflect if the bridge were to fail at this moment? Could it be stretched to incorporate the whole ship? Or would they sink along with everyone else regardless?
Only once the ship was out from beneath the bridge did he realise he’d been holding his breath. He took a few deep, open-mouthed gulps of air. That was definitely going on his list of things to never attempt again. Right at the top.
Darshan continued, his voice a little strained, “I would like to linger in the city once we reach the port. Send word of our travels to Minamist, speak to my banker about funds.” He arched a brow in Hamish’s direction. “And spend a night in a decent bed before we move on.”
A bed sized for the pair of them would be far better than the cot that just gave Hamish enough room to lay flat on. Never mind their barely-successful attempt at doing anything except sleep.
“Maybe…” Leaning back, Darshan ran a finger up Hamish’s forearm. “I do not know… Pick up where we left off?”
Hamish grinned. They had spent the better part of their first week freely exploring each other’s bodies in the solitude of their tent, foregoing any actual penetration until Darshan had procured a small measure of oil at the riverside village. Sex whilst crammed in a cot hadn’t been the easiest thing, but they had managed to varying degrees of success.
Whilst they had only attempted sex the once during their journey on board this ship—the cot being short enough that his feet couldn’t make it onto the mattress—the time had been a memorable one. “And hear you roar again, me stag,” Hamish teased.
Darshan’s cheeks reddened. The shield faltered for a breath, allowing the chill wind to buffet them. “You are not going to let that one drop, are you? I did warn you that I get rather loud when things are going well.”
The volume
