Deeds of Their Past - 27. Chapter Twenty-seven

An hour down the road toward Morgana, Brohm led him south to the edge of the forest. The thick bramble forced them to dismount and head in on foot.

“It’s not too far in. There’s a big stump I used to hide our stuff.”

The canopy overhead muted the morning light considerably, but Brohm found his hiding place without any problem. On the far side lay Nathan’s rucksack and the saddlebags, heavy with coin. Brohm dug a hand into a patch of long grass growing near the stump. Pulling back, he revealed the delicate necklace hanging from his thick finger, wet with dew.

“We’re so close to this whole thing being over,” Brohm said, carefully placing it into his trouser pocket.

Nathan decided not to remind him the amulet could simply be an expensive trinket. Instead, he rifled through his rucksack in search of another shirt. “You must be hungry,” he said.

Brohm nodded, and Nathan handed him some of the cured pork and biscuits. Finally finding his shirt, he felt something weighty held within. Unwrapping it revealed his dagger.

“You found it,” Nathan said.

“Yuh. I reckoned you’d want it,” Brohm said with a mouthful.

Nathan had no way to carry it on his body. When the guards had returned his clothes, they’d kept the sheath that attached to his belt. But it was of little matter to Nathan. He could always have another one made.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile.

After changing his shirt, they gathered their belongings and were swiftly back on the road heading east, galloping toward the morning sun.

The day passed uneventfully, and by late evening, the telltale stench of the bog told them they’d reached their destination for the day.

“I was wondering how you reckon we find Morgana?” Brohm asked after they’d set up camp far from the road.

Nathan poked at the small fire with a stick. “Well, the pendant she gave us to clear the fog will help. We look for her evergreens in the middle of this stinky swamp.”

Brohm seemed unconvinced.

“Don’t worry,” Nathan continued. “We’ll find it. We have to.”

* * *

Morning came, and Nathan found himself stiff and sore. Regardless, he was happy to see his wounds were healing well. Both men ate a quick breakfast, impatient to be on their way, knowing the day would be a tedious slog.

As before, the marshlands started innocently enough. The ground was wet, yet easy to traverse. Knowing what they knew now, it was a curious trap for unwary travellers. Nathan pondered if it was completely natural, or if the spirits held within created the deception.

By mid-morning, they felt the anxious underpinning of anger stirring under the surface. Voicing their concern of how they felt brought a small amount of comfort, but Nathan remained worried they’d fall to the swamp’s curse again.

The anger only worsened once they had to dismount and guide their horses through the mud. He felt resentment toward Brohm, as though all the problems of the past month were due to his presence. He took a deep breath to calm himself, but only tasted rot, and it fuelled his growing rage. He needed strength to fight it, but his strongest source was Brohm, and he couldn’t stand the sight of him.

Wait. That wasn’t right. A moment of clarity shone through the muck, and he wanted to share it.

“Brohm—”

“Don’t talk to me. Just keep going,” the big man said through gritted teeth.

Nathan had already forgotten what he wanted to say, and he didn’t care. His thoughts walked a fine line between reason and hate. He could remember the love he had for the big man, only to have it wiped away a moment later. Fighting the anger seemed ineffective. It only returned with more resistance, and he decided giving in was the only way to survive the onslaught.

He let it happen, and relief washed over him. No, not relief. Animosity. A seething agitation that boiled under his skin. But he loved it.

Hours passed unnoticed as they revelled in their misery, and it wasn’t until the sun sat in the far western sky did Nathan question what he was doing in such a gods-forsaken swamp. He recalled an old woman’s face, but the details eluded him. Scanning the horizon, something seemed out of place. He saw tall shapes in the fog far out in the distance.

Trees? Evergreens.

It all came back in a rush and he lost his balance, falling into the mud. The distinct ring of a sword drawn from its scabbard quickly brought him to his feet.

Brohm, face twisted in anger, beared down on him with boots splashing in the fetid water. “You slowed me down for the last time!” he roared, readying his sword for a brutal swing.

Nathan instinctively went for his dagger, only to remember he’d left it in his rucksack. Brohm’s blade sliced through the air. Nathan managed to narrowly dodge the attack but fell to the ground, defenceless. The big man wasted no time and prepared to plunge the sword into Nathan’s chest. Seeing the sword at its apex, Nathan could only shut his eyes and hope for a quick death.

“Brohm.”

The familiar voice came like a gust of wind. It was rough, weathered, yet certainly feminine. All was still, and Nathan questioned why he wasn’t dead yet. Tentatively opening his eyes, he found Brohm in the same position, ready to thrust down, yet his expression had shifted from wrath to distress. Brohm blinked, as though waking from a dream, gazing at the sword with troubled eyes. In a fit of anger, he tossed it as far as he could, grunting from the effort. It tumbled in the air until splashing far beyond his vision. The big man fell to his knees and pulled Nathan into his arms in a crushing hug.

“I tried to fight it. I swear I tried,” he muttered. “I’m . . . I’m so sorry.”

Nathan was still trying to figure out where the voice had come from. The voice that’d saved him. As if reading his mind, Morgana appeared by their side, surprising both of them.

“You two really can’t handle this place very well. We should really stop meeting like this,” she said with a sly smile on her face.

* * *

The hot tea burned his lips, and he blew on it before attempting another sip. Nathan was still trying to process how they’d managed to fall prey to the bog’s magick again, but found himself unable to come to any conclusions. Brohm sat mute on the rug, lost in his own thoughts, staring into his mug.

“Boys, don’t take it so hard. That swamp turns even the kindest person into a monster.”

Brohm looked up at her, grief-stricken. “But I nearly killed him. Again.”

She patted his shoulder. “I know, my big ox. But no harm came in the end. Everyone’s okay.”

“I guess . . .”

“You boys must be ravenous.”

Something delicious was stewing, but Nathan wasn’t particularly interested. Brohm, normally perpetually starving, didn’t move a muscle at the mention of food.

“Not hungry? I’ll get a couple of bowls and we’ll see about that,” she said in mock defiance. “And drink that tea. It’ll soothe you.”

They both sipped from their mugs while she prepared their meal, and in quick order, arrived with two bowls of steaming stew. Nathan suddenly found his mouth watering at the sight, and after thanking her, tucked into it. Brohm poked at the contents of his bowl and ate a few spoonfuls, only to push it away moments later.

“So, you were gone for quite some time. Did you have luck finding the amulet?” she asked, gazing at the two men like a child impatiently waiting for a gift.

Brohm dug a hand into his pocket, and carefully pulled the necklace free. “This is the only thing we could find,” he said. “Is this it?”

The tiny jewel twisted and turned as it hung from the chain, catching the firelight of the hearth. Her eyes lit up just the same, and she carefully held the gem in her hand, peering into its depths.

“Oh, yes. This is what I seek.”

Nathan noted a curious change of tone in her voice. Lust.

“We’ve held up our end of the bargain,” he said.

She seemed lost, her smile a bit mad.

“Morgana?”

Blinking, she returned from her reverie. “I’m sorry? What did you say?”

“We found what you were looking for. I trust you’ll fill your end of the bargain?”

“Of course, of course! In fact, it’s already done.”

Brohm glanced at his hands and to Nathan’s face. “But we look the same.”

She winked at him, and nodded toward the looking glass. “Are you sure?”

Both men scrambled up to peer into it. As she said, they looked like completely different men. Nathan stifled a laugh at Brohm’s full head of hair.

“Weird . . .” Brohm uttered while poking at his face, bending his nose and ruffling his hair.

Nathan found himself equally enthralled by the changes to his own face. It felt bizarre to see an alien visage staring back at him.

“Now remember, boys. Never talk about it. In fact, it’s best to simply forget about it.”

Brohm nodded absentmindedly, still fascinated by his own reflection.

“Thank you, Morgana,” Nathan said. “You’ve given our lives back. Well, at least given us new lives.”

“A fresh start,” she said with a smile. “Not many are given that opportunity. Don’t waste it.”

The three spent the rest of the evening in quiet conversation. Nathan never brought up the amulet, but its purpose burned questions in his mind the entire time. After Morgana retired to her bedroom, the two men lay down on the rug near the hearth.

“Do you think we did the right thing? Giving her the amulet without knowing what it does?” Nathan asked.

“If it doesn’t affect us, I don’t care. We got what we wanted, and with all this coin, I reckon we can do whatever we want.”

Nathan’s mind boggled at the possibilities. “You’re right. Gods, I can’t believe this whole thing is over. It feels like a dream.”

“It’s not a dream.”

Brohm pulled him close, surprising him with a deep kiss, and Nathan took it in with passion. After a moment, the big man pulled back, leaving Nathan breathless.

“Whatever we decide,” Brohm said, “all that matters is I’ll be doing it with the one I love.”

◆ ◆ ◆

A crisp breeze blew in from the open window of the lavish rented room, announcing the arrival of the autumnal season. Despite the fresh air, the room still stunk of sweat and sex. It was nearly midday, but neither Nathan nor Brohm felt the need to rise out of bed. They’d been too busy keeping each other entertained, staying up until the early morning hours.

Nathan idly stared at the ceiling, wearing a subtle grin. Brohm lay on his side, tracing one of the ragged scars on Nathan’s chest with a finger. His hand lingered a moment, before snaking its way down beneath the sheets, groping between Nathan’s legs.

“Let’s go again,” he rumbled.

Nathan blinked and glanced over incredulously at him. “You’re insatiable.”

“Like you’re complaining.”

“Well, I didn’t say no.”

The big man chuckled, turning him to his side, yet before they could get to business, a sharp rap on the door interrupted them.

“Who is it?” Nathan called out with a hint of annoyance.

“Courier, sir,” a muffled voice said through the door.

With a sigh, Nathan rolled out of bed. Brohm managed to swat his behind, eliciting a laugh from him. Donning a bathrobe, he stepped over clothes strewn about on the floor, and opened the door to find a young man carrying a satchel.

“A letter for you, sir,” he said, handing over a scroll with a wax seal.

Nathan nodded his thanks and closed the door, eyeing the scroll in his hand.

“I don’t recognize the seal.”

“Just open it,” Brohm said while rising out of bed.

Sitting at a table, he broke the wax and unravelled the scroll. “It’s from the guild council.”

“Oh really? What’s it say?”

“After careful consideration, we deem your request to establish an adventurer’s guild in the town of Millsfield approved. At the soonest convenience, please contact headmaster Ryan Shaw at the adventurer’s guild in Croydon.”

Nathan was chuffed, and looking up at Brohm, found him pleased as well. They’d spent a nearly month determining what to do with their new life, finally deciding to open a guild branch. It offered them the promise of an exciting life without falling to the wrong side of the law.

“We’ll leave tomorrow, yuh?” Brohm said. “I’m not done with you yet, and I reckon it’s gonna take all day to finish up.”

Nathan chuckled. “You’re the boss, big guy.”

A lewd grin on his face, Brohm stripped him of his bathrobe, tossed him over his shoulder, and headed back to bed.