Strategos: Born in the Borderlands (21 page)

He felt the old shame at his scar being fully exposed, the serrated flesh snaking from ankle to midriff, and was expecting the usual frown of disgust when she saw it. Instead, her hazel eyes stuck on his, the glance became a gaze as he saw her, so close now: her eyes were richly kohl-lined, her lips stained with ochre and curled into a decadent smile.

‘I think you’re a fool for what you’re doing, Apion, but you’ve been in such a foul mood for so long now that I wonder if serving in the army will do you good. But I came here because I want you to know something,’ her words were softly spoken, ‘I will miss you. You are like a brother to me, but more than that . . . ’

A thousand reasons why she should not come any closer flooded to his mind, but she took just one more step and stopped. Then they embraced and she pressed her mouth to his, their lips rapacious as they tasted one another.

Maria ploughed her fingers through Apion’s hair as he hugged her to him. Inside he felt a myriad of fires raging. Fear and a deep, unknown excitement blossomed in every inch of his body. Without a word, they were prone. He pulled her to sit on top of him, lifting her robe, his hands cupping the warm smooth flesh of her hips, sliding up over her stomach and settling on the underside of her heavy breasts. She lifted the robe off at last, and then uttered a shuddering gasp as he entered her.

He had dreamt of this, countless times. Now it was so real, so natural. Her face was creased, eyes screwed shut, biting her lower lip and she moaned with every thrust. All the way from his lips down through his heart, stomach, all along his legs, he tingled, the sensation building ever-more intense until, like an explosion, the climax flowed through both of them, Apion shot to sitting as he moaned, pulling Maria to him so each panted into the nape of the other’s neck.

Time seemed irrelevant as the sensation ebbed into a placid calm. Then at last Maria rolled to one side to lie flat. Apion lay so his eyes were level with hers. What to say? He simply took her hand in his and smiled. The light of the rising sun came through the beech thicket, a touch of warmth blanketing them. Every birdsong was a precious melody and every breath tasted rich and full. Now this was the thing he had been missing, Apion mused, losing himself in Maria’s eyes.

Suddenly, Maria shot upright and grappled for her robe, ‘Well, that wasn’t at all bad,’ she muttered casually, looking off into the sunrise.

Apion felt his euphoric world crumble.
Wasn’t bad?
It sounded as if she was talking about an under-flavoured cup of salep. Was this something she did every day? The fuzzy warmth in his chest turned abrasive and he frowned. ‘Sorry?’

‘What’s wrong, can’t take a compliment?’ She shuffled to standing. ‘Come on, we’d better head back, I need to finish making breakfast.’

Just like that?
Inside he was furious, furious that indignation had swept away the utopia of moments ago. He wanted to shout and swear, yet he found himself grinning at her inanely.

Maria looked at him as though he was a troublesome stain. ‘Tchoh! Will you put your clothes on and come on!’

***

‘Raise your drinks!’ Kutalmish roared, his voice echoing around his hearth room as he lifted a cup of salep. The likeable, white-haired old man was barely visible over the feast-laden table piled with cheeses, grapes, apples, figs, vegetable stew, salad, fresh breads, yoghurt and jugs of chilled fruit juices. Nasir sat by Apion on one side, Maria by Giyath on the other. Mansur and Kutalmish made up both ends. This was it: the big send off for Apion, Nasir and Giyath, as they prepared to set out the following morning, Apion with the thema and Kutalmish’s sons with the Seljuk riders.

Apion’s stomach squirmed at the luxurious spread. He hadn’t eaten all day, not even at breakfast. His head was awash with conflicting emotions: revenge lay on his horizons and he would have to immerse himself in the conflict to take that revenge. Then there was Maria; their encounter at dawn had left him in a spin, his emotions rolling up and down like the hills. He had stumbled back down to the farm, weak and unable to keep stride with her in her purposeful march. When they had got back it had been just like any other day by the way she had acted, munching through her breakfast in a perfunctory manner, refusing to meet the giddy gaze he had fixed on her. The rest of the day had been a spiral of thoughts until now, with the sun setting, he would spend his last night at the farm with those who made up his world.

‘Not hungry?’ Giyath grumbled through a mouthful of yoghurt, shooting a glance from under his thick brows.

‘Oh I’m hungry, just not sure where to start!’ Apion replied, shrugging at Nasir’s older brother. In the years since Apion had first laid eyes on him, Giyath had grown to become a rock of a man, his head shaved, further emphasising the anvil of a chin and broadening his bull-like shoulders. He was every inch the fighter, the kind of man you would want as the beating heart of your front line. Apion had never quite clicked with him in the same way he eventually had with Nasir, perhaps because of the age difference or more likely because of the personality clash. This man was a shrill echo of the stubborn, belligerent persona that Nasir had been when Apion first came to Mansur’s farm.

‘Well get your fill because you’ll be on swill and rat meat with the thema!’ Giyath chuckled at his own joke, before breaking down in a coughing fit.

‘You think he’s joking?’ Nasir shot Apion a grin.

‘Enough that all three of you should do your duty with honour and, most importantly, return safely,’ Kutalmish cut in. ‘I trust my sons will do me proud and, Apion, I hope you will . . . ’ the old man frowned, lost for words momentarily as he glanced to Mansur, ‘ . . . find what you are looking for. War will be upon us soon enough, so let tonight be a night we can remember. All of us sat around the table as one big family. All of us,’ Kutalmish repeated, a warm smile growing across his features, directed at Apion.

Apion felt all eyes fall on him, a shyness crackled on his skin. He wondered what they all felt of the unspoken truth: that Kutalmish’s sons were to pursue the life of warfare that their father had shunned; that Mansur’s protégé was to walk from the valley with a thirst for revenge and blood. Then he glanced up at Maria; he and Mansur had resolved not to tell her of the matter of Bracchus. Her face was radiant, light of troubles. She winked at him. He smiled in return. Maria prodded her tongue out then grinned; a ridiculous, toothy grin and one that Apion found hugely infectious. He could not suppress a snigger.

‘Something funny, is there?’ Giyath grunted, his brow set like stone.

Maria widened her eyes in mock terror.

‘Of course not, I . . . ’ Apion started.

‘My father welcomes you as a member of our family and you laugh at him? You’ll do well to stay clear of the ghulam riders,’ Giyath’s tone was grating. The man angered easily and sought conflict and Apion had just handed him another point of contention on a plate.

‘Enough, Giyath,’ Kutalmish waved his hands over the table, ‘let us eat tonight in peace.’

‘Agreed.’ Mansur raised his cup. ‘Let us rise above all that is to come and remember what bonds us together. Strong bonds, stronger than blood.’

Apion felt a warmth cloak him and he too raised his cup. ‘And those bonds should never be broken,’ he said. Every face lit up, apart from the wrinkled frown of Giyath. Then, with a screeching of his stool on the flagstones, Giyath rose, tossing his knife down, then turned and stomped from the hearth room to go outside.

‘I’m sorry, was it what I said?’ Apion stammered.

‘No, Apion. Let him be controlled by his moods, the foolish boy,’ Kutalmish muttered, shook his head, then slowly began eating again.

The tense silence that ensued hung heavy in the air and Apion found it difficult to eat when every bite echoed through the hearth room. He wished he was back at the farm, alone. Or maybe with Maria in his arms? He suddenly realised that Mansur did not know of their encounter. Would he object? He glanced up at the old man, realising a gentle chatter had begun between him and Kutalmish. Mansur loved Maria but he loved Apion too. Perhaps it would be best to keep their relationship to himself for now, he mused. Yet he couldn’t shake the image from his mind: Maria, naked in his arms. He shot a wicked glance up at her. She winked, but not at him.

Apion followed her impish grin. On the other end, Nasir’s gaze was fixed on her, expressionless apart from his eyes, which sparkled with mischief. Apion’s skin burned and his chest clenched.
What was she doing?

Mansur supped the last of his salep and chuckled. ‘Well, Kutalmish, I can only thank you for your hospitality again. The dates,’ He shook his head as he pulled his cloak on from the back of his chair, ‘my word, the soil in your orchard is blessed! Now we should be on our way, to let the boys sleep well before tomorrow.’

‘Pleasure to have you, Mansur. Pleasure to have all of you, but please, leave your robes. It’s cold and dark outside and very late. There are enough rooms for each of you to sleep here tonight.’

Mansur patted his stomach. ‘Aye but a walk would probably be best for me,’ he glanced out of the open shutter at the darkness and raised an eyebrow, ‘then again . . . ’

‘I’ll get the fresh bedding?’ Nasir pre-empted his father, barely disguising a sigh.

Kutalmish nodded.

***

The bed was soft and warm, but Apion found sleep hard to come by, his stomach gurgling over what little he had managed to eat, his mind turning over the flashpoints of the evening. He tried to relax, breathing deeply. Eventually, sleep teased his thoughts into a collage of memories and images. Then one forced its way to the front; the dark door rushed for him, the knotted arm swiping out to push it open.
Revenge!
The rasping voice in his head grew louder and louder, jolting him awake.

With a groan, he slid from the warm comfort of the sheets, the brace clicking into place under his weight as his soles rested on the cool flagstoned floor. He slipped on his tunic and hobbled out of the room: the floor of the farmhouse was a forest of shadows in the moonlight but his eyes locked onto the door of the room Maria was sleeping in, two along from his own. Every one of his steps seemed to land on a loose flagstone, causing a clunking and grating. Fortunately, Mansur’s snoring more than drowned it out as he crept past the old man’s door – he had some cheek to talk of her snoring! Then he stopped. Maria’s door was ajar. Was she expecting him?

His blood raced as he reached out to push the door, the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin dancing in his memory. Her room was dark but he could sense her, waiting under the blankets, as he patted them from the foot of the bed. Until he reached the pillow. The bed was empty.

Then a distant shriek from outside echoed through the house. It was faint but it jolted him all the same. The sliver of moon outside, the darkness, the screaming. A nauseous swell touched his guts as his mind was cast back to that awful night. He thought of waking Mansur, Kutalmish. No, that would take precious time and he would not stand back and do nothing
this
time. He made for the door and hobbled out into the night.

***

The shriek had come from the highest hilltop. Apion, breathless, struggled through the last of the scree and up onto the hilltop, his strength deserting him already: whoever had Maria had taken her away from the farmhouse and up to this spot – his spot – in the midst of the beech thicket. He crouched to rest by the first of the beech trunks that encircled the small clearing in the centre. Apart from the hum of crickets, all was silent. Then a groan echoed through the trees. Apion narrowed his eyes and stalked forward.

Then he heard her. She moaned rhythmically, but there was someone else, grunting in tandem. Realisation dawned before he saw them, but denial kept him stalking forward until he saw the two shapes, writhing.

Maria grasped Nasir’s back, her legs wrapped around his thighs, while his buttocks thrust forward again and again. Apion felt a cold sliver of pain in his heart.

He fell back onto the bracken.

‘What was that?’ Maria hissed, suddenly breaking from their embrace.

From the shadows, Apion’s eyes hung on hers. He longed for her and loathed her in one sorry pang of self-pity.

‘A fox, probably,’ Nasir grunted in annoyance, before nuzzling into her neck and pushing her down again.

Apion stumbled back from the thicket, his brace clanking.

‘No, I know that noise,’ he heard Maria say.

The stinging precursor to hot tears itched behind his nose. He hobbled down the hill, roaring out into the darkness.