A Noble Estate by A.C. Ellas Page A

the map.
    “I had an idea,” he told them all. “We stay together for now.” His finger slid north along the trade road, which paralleled the Mezi River all the way north to Loftos. Close to the mountainous border, he paused. “Jisten and I turn west here.” His finger then headed almost due west until he reached the Dacti River and Relyt. “It is a longer ride for us but has the advantage of keeping us together until the border. And if the slavers overheard our earlier plans, they will be in for a nasty surprise.”
    Jisten, peering over Rak’s shoulder, agreed. “Good plan. I wasn’t excited about splitting the guard forces with slavers coming after any of us.”
    “S’Ioli, summon your ayel , please.” Rak rolled the map up and returned it to the map case. By the time he’d done that, Ioli’s vranyxia were trotting through the trees to either side.
    Jethain snuck the map case from the pack Rak put it in, he offered a guilty grin when Rak caught him in the act and lofted an eyebrow at him. “I just want to study it,” he said.
    “Of course,” said Rak. “You can have that one—I have another copy.”
    “Thank you!” Jethain beamed like he’d just received a long-dreamt-of prize.
    The men remounted their avtappi, and once everyone was moving, Rak asked Vyld to gallop. The avtappi pounded down the road at a hard gallop for a time but eventually settled into the ground-eating lope they used for long journeys.
    The eastern sky was greying when the vranyxia flicked out, translating to the spirit realm to shield themselves from the light of day. Rak led them all off the road, following a track barely wide enough to allow the wagon to pass, and so overgrown that they were all forced to duck more than once.
    After a solid quarter hour, they broke into a clearing in the process of being overgrown. A ruined farmhouse stood in the center, and the waist-high brush was creeping from the trees inward, along with saplings showing a few years growth. Rak guessed that in another decade, only an expert eye would be able to tell that man had ever disturbed this place. “Hostile territory rules,” he said tersely as he rode Vyld around to the backside of the farmhouse.
    Dolron and Ikayone dismounted at the caved-in entrance to the farmhouse and ducked inside.
    Rak came back around to the front. “There is a good spot for the wagon back there.” He clucked his tongue and the two draft avtappi followed him with the wagon in tow. He switched from Vyld to one of the broad backs of the drafts and mentally directed the avtappi in backing the wagon just so. Once he was satisfied, he unhitched them, laying out their harnesses over the drivers’ seat of the wagon.
    Jisten came up to help him, and Rak bumped into him affectionately. “I think we should go back to the road, just the two of us, and put on a show those slavers would never forget.”
    “S’Raaak,” moaned Jisten, his face scarlet.
    Rak’s lips twitched as he tried hard not to laugh at his partner’s expression. “ Ix? Fine, then drag me deeper into these woods and make love to me until I shriek.” He ran a stray leather strap through his hands and quirked his eyebrows suggestively.
    Jisten grinned. A moment later, he grabbed Rak and pulled him through the trees away from the clearing. They walked for another quarter hour, until Rak was pretty sure they were out of earshot, not that he cared. It was Jisten who was inhibited by an audience.
    Spying a hollow under a large sentinel pine, Rak darted forward, pulling Jisten in his wake. He knelt, pushed two branches aside and slid into the surprisingly large space beneath the lowest branches. By the time Jisten had pushed his way into the natural tent, Rak was deeply involved in the process of undressing. Jisten helped him by smoothing his wings through the slits of his tunics then pulling off his boots.
    Once Rak was naked, he turned his attention to Jisten. He gently undid the lacing of Jisten’s pants and