The Four Horsemen 2 - War (11 page)

“What?” Russell’s eyelids drooped and War knew the medicine was taking hold.
“Guilt.”
Russell nodded. “You could be right about that.”
War laughed. “I’m an expert at guilt, so I know it when I see it. Can you stand?”
He helped Russell climb to his feet. Death folded his arms over his chest and stared at them.
“What are you going to do now? You can’t leave the horses out here on their own with only the dogs to watch them.”
“I know.” War gritted his teeth. “I’m not a complete idiot. I’ll flash Russell back to the hut and come back here to watch the horses for the rest of the day. Once I get him home, he’ll sleep the rest of the time I’m gone.”
Death hummed while War looked at the dogs.
“Guard,” he ordered them.
“Fine. I’ll take him.” Death reached out to pull Russell out of War’s arms.
“No. I’ll do it. I don’t trust you not to just dump him on the bed and disappear.” War glared at his fellow Horseman.
“Isn’t that what you’re going to do?”
War shook his head. “I’m going to make sure he’s okay before I go. Leave some water and food for him. Also, a note so he knows where I’m at.”
“Very nice of you to do that.” Death rolled his eyes. “Fine. You go and I’ll hang out here until you get back. Just don’t take long.”
War didn’t reply. He shut his eyes and thought about his hut. Within a heartbeat, he opened them to find he stood in the middle of his place. Russell wilted and War went about putting his lover to bed.

Russell didn’t look up from the fire, even though he heard hoof beats approaching. He’d woken up two hours ago, embarrassed at the knowledge that he’d had another episode.
Damn.
Maybe he should have just stayed in the hospital. Apparently he wasn’t well enough to be out in the world on his own. Thank God War was around to take care of him.

He stirred the stew he’d managed to make from what he’d found in the house. Not much, and he hoped it tasted good. How did War do it? Of course, maybe the man didn’t eat, considering he was immortal and all that. Russell chuckled silently. Maybe he should be freaking out more about the whole Horseman thing, but at the moment he couldn’t be bothered to worry about the crazy weird stuff. Considering his own mind failed him on a routine basis, knowing War was a Horseman didn’t even faze him.

What was all that stuff about feeling guilty? Russell understood one of his issues was survivor’s guilt. At least that’s what the doctors and therapists had told him at the hospital before they’d cut him loose. He agreed with them, but knowing it didn’t necessarily mean he believed it. Did War feel the same way about all the battles he’d fought when he’d been alive? Could guilt be the one thing driving the man through all the centuries?

It didn’t make sense, as War had been a chief and, from what Russell remembered of the tribes before humans evolved into civilised beings, they’d fought amongst themselves all the time. War had said something about being betrayed by someone. Who would have been close enough to him to betray him? Whoever it was had to have been someone War knew so well he wouldn’t have asked any questions when the person had filled his ears about the other tribe.

Footsteps stopped at the open door and he glanced over his shoulder. War leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded and resting on his bare chest. Russell trailed his gaze over War’s body, tracing every dip and ridge of muscle. All that golden skin exposed for his viewing pleasure. A bit of disappointment welled in him when he noticed War still wore jeans, zipped but left unbuttoned.

Russell nodded, but frowned. “Yes, thank you for all your care. How did you manage to get me from the pond to the house without us riding here? I do remember the pale guy being there. How did he get there?”

War shrugged. “I’m not sure how it works, but we have the power to travel through space and time to wherever we want to go. Somehow Death knew you were having a flashback and he appeared with your medicine. Then I brought you back here to rest before I took the horses out to their grazing land.”

“Yes. You didn’t have to cook anything, Russell. I would have found something to make when I got home.”
“No big deal. I had time and managed to cook stuff. I hope it tastes all right.”
“It’ll be fine,” War promised.
Russell dished out some stew into two bowls, handing one to War before carrying the other to the table. War sat and smiled at him. A tingling fluttered in his stomach, warming him more than the stew ever could. His cock hardened and he shifted, trying to find a comfortable way to sit where his erection didn’t press tight against the zipper of his jeans.
After taking a bite, War chewed and swallowed. “This is really good, considering what you had to work with. I know there wasn’t much around here. I need to go hunting tomorrow. We’ll get some rabbits and birds for fresh meat.”
“Sounds good to me. I tried to do the best I could.”
Russell wanted to duck his head and grin, but he wasn’t sure he wanted War to know just how much his praise touched him. They finished their dinner in silence. The quiet was comfortable and Russell felt no need to say anything to break it. War took the bowls and washed them while Russell took care of the rest of the stew.
After they’d cleaned up, Russell sat down on the bed while War took a chair. They looked at each other for a second before Russell knelt in front of War. He looked up at the man while reaching out to take War’s zipper in his fingers. War didn’t stop him, just stared at him with desire shining in those black eyes.
He peeled the jeans apart, allowing War’s cock out for viewing. Licking his lips, he eyed the large shaft before him and saliva pooled at the thought of having that in his mouth. He leant forward and wrapped his lips around the flared head of War’s penis.
War exhaled sharply and clenched his hands into fists on his thighs. Russell encircled War’s calves to brace himself while he sucked. He bobbed up and down, taking a little more in every time until the head hit the back of his throat. He didn’t gag, just kept up the pressure.
War grunted, then tapped Russell’s shoulder. He stopped and looked at War.
“I want to fuck you.”
Russell blinked, his cock aching painfully and his hole tightening at the thought of War fucking him. Oh, hell yes. He wanted that more than anything else in the world. He eased away from War, rocking back on his heels.
“Guess we should get naked and on the bed,” he commented.
War nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. I don’t want to fuck you on the floor. Well, maybe some other time.”
They helped each other to their feet. As they stood by the bed, War stripped Russell’s shirt and jeans from him before pushing his own jeans to the floor. Russell ran his hands all over War’s body, learning all the scars and imperfections along the way. Finally they kissed, bringing their lips together in a gentle promise of more than just sex. They would be making love this time, even though neither of them had said those words.
It was a tentative emotion between them, having slowly built. Russell ran his fingers through War’s short hair as their tongues duelled and stroked. He shuddered when War’s large, warm hands landed on his ass. War and Russell pressed tighter together, chest to knees.
Russell brought the kiss to an end when his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. He bit his bottom lip for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. War slapped his butt and he jumped.
“Climb on the bed. I’ll grab the lube and rubber.” War ordered.
“All right.” Russell did as he was told, though he wiggled his ass as he crawled on the mattress.
“Cute.” War slapped him again.
“Thanks. I’ve always thought so myself.” He winked over his shoulder as he settled in the middle of the bed.
“On your back. I want to look at you while we make love.” War grinned and held up a foil packet and the bottle of lube.
Russell paused for a moment. He’d never done it face to face. Too intimate usually, but something told him this time would change his life even more deeply than the war had.
“All right.”
He settled on his back, hooked his hands behind his knees, and spread his legs wide. After kneeling, War popped open the bottle of slick. He squirted some on his fingers before setting the lube down next to Russell’s hips.
War rubbed his wet fingers over Russell’s hole, drawing a moan from him. God, he couldn’t wait to have War inside him. He relaxed as War sank his fingers in to press against his gland. He jerked as need shot through him from the spot.
“Right there,” he mumbled.
War chuckled and began to pump in and out of him, stretching Russell’s ring of muscle. Russell rocked, fucking himself with low moans. He didn’t know when two fingers became three or when his own hand wrapped around his cock to stroke in time with War. His balls firmed and tightened to his body. Pressure built as his cock grew stiffer.
“War, please. I want to come with you inside me,” Russell pleaded.
He sighed as War removed his fingers. The rustle of the packet being ripped open caught his attention and he watched as War rolled the condom down his shaft. He stayed relaxed as War sank in, filling his ass as full as it had ever been.
His eyes met War’s as War stared down at him. War braced his hands on either side of Russell’s head and they began to move together. Slow and easy to begin with. Each thrust in met with a tilt of his hips. War’s head dropped and their breath mingled and their rhythm sped up. Soon the sound of skin smacking against skin filled the room. Russell couldn’t keep his cries soft.
“God, yes. Harder. Faster,” he demanded, and War complied.
Russell wrapped his legs around War’s waist. War’s washboard abs dragged over Russell’s cock, bringing him closer to the edge. As his climax exploded over him, he threw back his head and cried out.
“War!”
War slammed into him as quickly as possible. Hot liquid spilt between them, coating their skin with stickiness.
“Russell!” War shouted as he came, filling the condom with his cum.
They trembled and shuddered while the aftershocks of their lovemaking faded away. When their breathing eased and heartbeats slowed, War climbed out of the bed and took care of the rubber. Russell watched as War washed himself. His lover returned and wiped him down as well.
Russell snuggled under the blankets. War pulled on a pair of jeans, and started to walk out of the hut.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to make sure the horses are settled in for the night and that the dogs have been fed. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Russell didn’t say anything after that. He closed his eyes and dozed while War was gone. He woke up when the mattress dipped and War curled up behind him. He patted War’s hand where it laid, draped over his side.
“Who betrayed you?”
His question dropped into the dark like a bomb exploding in the middle of a library. War stiffened, drawing away from him by a few inches. Russell opened his mouth to apologise and tell War to forget it.
“His name was Asad, and he was my best friend.” War’s voice emerged reluctantly from the shadows.
Wow. That had to suck, Russell thought. “What did he do? What did you do when you found out?”
“I killed him.”
Such a bald statement in so chilling a tone shot shivers all over Russell’s skin. Rolling over to his other side, he peered at War through the darkness. War lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Russell could barely see any sort of expression on War’s face. Maybe a hint of regret, but Russell assumed War had had centuries to come to terms with the fact that he’d killed his best friend.
“You killed him? Why did you do that?”
“He was the only one I trusted to tell me the truth. The only one I let close enough to know all my secrets. Asad knew just what to say to get me to attack another tribe.” War inhaled and his jaw tightened. “His lies caused the death of an entire tribe and several of my men. I couldn’t take a chance he would do it again. In addition to that, he didn’t deserve to live for the blood he spilled.”
“An eye for an eye?”
War’s head dipped slightly in agreement. “You could say that. I wasn’t a forgiving man. Not only did he break my trust, he allowed people to die for his own selfish reasons. There was no way I could allow him to continue to poison everyone’s minds.”
“Why did he do it?”
War shrugged.
“From what I figured out, it was jealousy. One of the women from the neighbouring tribe turned down his suit and married another man. Asad believed her other suitor to be a lesser man and became enraged at her refusal. He bothered her. I guess nowadays it would be known as stalking.”
Russell shook his head. “You never think things like that happened in the old days, but people are people, no matter what time period they grew up in.”
“True. Asad did everything in his power to break them up. He lied to one about the other and vice versa. Her chief came to me and I told Asad to leave it be. There were plenty of other women who would be happy to marry him.” War’s laughter was cold and harsh. “He promised me he would, but he went behind my back. One day he came to me, carrying one of the children of my tribe. She’d been raped before being killed. Asad swore to me that one of the neighbouring tribesmen had done it.”
Sorrow welled in Russell. He didn’t even know the girl, but he could imagine what had happened to her before she’d died.
“I had no way to know he lied. Asad was the one to rape her and slit her throat. He did it because he enjoyed hurting her, but also because he knew there were few things I hated more than the taking of innocent lives. So he played me and I went willingly where he led.”
War shoved off the bed and paced along the length of the room. Russell sat up, placed the pillows behind his back, and leant back on them. He watched War stride along and he could see why War’s tribe would have followed him into battle. Even though War’s confidence had taken a hit all those years ago, he still held himself with an arrogant lift to his head and strength in his shoulders. Here was a man Russell would trust to keep him safe, no matter what the situation was.
He stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt the re-telling of War’s story. Somehow he understood War needed to tell him what had happened. War might have acted like it didn’t bother him any more, but Russell could tell War lived with the consequences of Asad’s actions every minute of his unnaturally second life.
“I approached the chief of the other tribe and asked him to turn over the man Asad accused of doing it. Of course, the chief claimed he was innocent and wouldn’t allow me to punish him. I was trying to figure out a better way of handling it when another girl was raped and murdered. I was so angry, I didn’t think about anything except getting justice for the girls.”
War shook his head and wrapped his arms around his waist. Russell hated seeing the man so vulnerable, but, while his mind told him to get up and comfort his lover, Russell’s heart told him to wait. War needed to speak and if Russell went to him now War wouldn’t purge himself of all the guilt he carried.
“I gathered my warriors and we attacked the unsuspecting tribe. Since they weren’t prepared, it was pretty much a massacre. But as I was about to kill a man, he told me about Asad’s obsession with his woman. How he believed all of this stemmed from that. I didn’t believe him at first, then slowly I gathered information. Knowledge I should have looked at before we went to battle. To my everlasting shame, I realised Asad planned it from the beginning. All those people dead because I chose to believe my best friend.”
“It wasn’t your fault. You acted on information you were given at the time. It wasn’t like you had forensic capabilities back then to help you determine who did that to those girls. You trusted Asad, probably from the moment you met him, right?”
War nodded.
“Then how were you to know he was insane? It’s not like most people living next door to a serial killer know their neighbour kills people. They all say the same thing, ‘
He seemed like such a nice man
’. None of them ever guessed he carried women’s heads in his bowling bag.”
War snorted.
“You’re not to blame for any of it.” He caught the roll of War’s eyes and waved his hand. “Okay. You are to blame for the war, but you did it out of a belief you were doing it for the right reasons. I don’t think you can take the blame for everything, though. Asad is the one who has to shoulder all of the fault and guilt for this.”
Would War believe him?
“The same night I killed Asad, a young boy sneaked into my tent and I woke to see him standing over me with a knife. I knew he was there to kill me. I probably killed his father or someone important to him. He deserved to get his revenge on me. I let him stab me without stopping him. I told him to leave and I didn’t call out for my guards. I knew if I did, they would find me and I’d be okay.”
“You let him kill you.”
“I told you this already.” War stopped in the middle of the room, letting his chin rest on his chest, and stared at the floor. “Eventually I admitted to myself that it wasn’t the sane thing to do. I let my guilt swamp me and I understand I wasn’t thinking straight. It suited me to have the child do the killing.”
“You bled out during the night after the boy knifed you. You didn’t call out or ask for help.” Russell sighed. “Was that why you became a Horseman?”
War turned to look at him. “Why, because I died suddenly?”
“Yes. Did anyone ever explain how you were chosen to be the Red Horseman?”
“Death didn’t really say much to me. He didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions, except who the hell he was. I was kind of thrown into the deep end. Sink or swim, though I got the feeling Death wouldn’t let me drown.” War angled his head, like a thought had suddenly popped into his mind. “I wonder if you might not be on to something. I know that old Pestilence killed himself after the Black Plague took his family and all the people in his village. I’m pretty sure Famine and Death didn’t die of natural causes either.”
They were getting off topic. After standing, Russell strolled over to War. He gripped the man’s biceps and shook him a little, bringing War’s gaze on him. Those black eyes caused him to hesitate momentarily, but he braved on.
“You do accept you weren’t to blame for all of what happened before you died, right?” Russell let go of War’s arms to cup his face in his hands. “It wasn’t your fault. No one blames you.”
“Of course people blamed me. All the families of those men I killed blamed me for it,” War pointed out.
“I bet if you went back in time to talk to them, they’d say they blamed Asad for starting the war. You were only doing what a chief would do when faced with the information you had.”