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    Swords of Silver: Holin and Kale, #2
    Swords of Silver: Holin and Kale, #2
    Swords of Silver: Holin and Kale, #2
    Ebook212 pages3 hours

    Swords of Silver: Holin and Kale, #2

    By Hollis Shiloh

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    About this ebook

    Together at last, Holin and Kale are on the run from magicians and dragon-slayers alike, but utterly happy because they have each other.  

    Then one night, soldiers arrive and capture them both.  Kale escapes with Holin's help—and vows to return and rescue his beloved.  But that might not be as easy as it sounds, even for a man like Kale.

    With help from the mysterious old slayer Carlon, Kale tracks down Holin…and finds a different man entirely.  Holin's memory was stolen by magic.  The first thing he does is stab Kale.

    Is there any way to repair their bond and bring back the old Holin, the one Kale has loved all his life, or will he forever be a broken and untrusting stranger?  

    55,000 words
    sequel to Hearts of Gold
    Warning: contains dark content & angst

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSpare Words Press
    Release dateNov 3, 2016
    ISBN9781540188939
    Swords of Silver: Holin and Kale, #2

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      Book preview

      Swords of Silver - Hollis Shiloh

      Swords of Silver

      by Hollis Shiloh

      The day was hot.  The horses were going slowly, drooping in the warm sun. 

      Perhaps you'd like to sing something to stay awake? suggested Kale.  You look like you're ready to fall asleep standing up.

      Holin's shoulders drew up straighter automatically.  I am not, he said, in offended tones.

      How about 'The Old Rusty Sword?', 'Welcome Slayers All?', or the 'Traveling Dragon-slayers Ballad?'

      I am not going to sing for you! said Holin, sounding enraged.

      "No?  That's funny! I always thought you had a brilliant voice.  Well never mind, I suppose I could sing.  He cleared his throat, and began to sing in a dreadful baritone, Once upon the road I wandered—"

      Holin began to laugh helplessly.  Shut up!  You'll frighten the horses.

      Kale gave a fake, offended sniff.  Well!  It's nice to know what you think of my singing ability!  After all these years, too.  I'll have you know I'm quite offended.

      Oh, I always thought your voice was dreadful, Holin reassured him.  Especially if you sing badly on purpose.

      On purpose!  I'll have you know that was my best effort!

      If that was true, you wouldn't need a sword to slay dragons!

      You're going to need a sword, in a minute!

      Bickering good naturedly, they rode along, trying not to smile.

      At the very first town outside the radius of Grisolm's power, Holin had bought parchment, ink, and wax.  He wrote a long letter detailing the abuses of power and misdeeds happening under Grisolm's reign, addressed it to the magician's guild, and sealed it with wax.  He didn't know if anyone would listen (said he doubted it), but it was something he had to do.  He left Kale out of all mention of the account.  Then he paid for it to be delivered, bought some supplies, and met Holin at the opposite end of town.  They embraced and rode off together, eating and talking, and ready to hunt another dragon.  This time, they'd free Kale, and then everything would be okay.

      They disguised themselves as traveling farm workers.  Disguising themselves was easier said than done. Holin's slenderness concealed his strength, but it was impossible to disguise Kale's strength.  He couldn't even seem to alter his walk to look less like a killer, whatever that meant.  They found some rough workmen's clothing to make them both look more like travelers looking for farm work, and Holin found a wide-brimmed hat to keep his face in shadow.

      A magic disguise was not beyond Holin's ability, and it would've worked better: but it would've been a red flag to anyone with magical ability, so they had to trust to their own resources and exclude magic.

      They slept most nights in the open, and could rarely afford the luxury of a bath or a bed.  They couldn't trust anyone.  Anything could be a danger to them now. They could be discovered and might be killed.  With the magicians and the dragon-slayers both against them, they lived in danger from one moment to the next.  There was no room for errors that might result in them revealing themselves.  They fought less than men in other stressful situations would.  But it did happen.

      #

      I need to learn.  Holin shook his hair back, caught it up, and tied it back tightly with a thin leather strip.  He gave Kale an endearing look that communicated stern, scolding, hopeful, and pleading feelings.

      Kale couldn't help smiling.  He reached up and pushed back a loose curl from his partner's face.  We're gonna have to hack that off soon.  It was only sensible.  At the same time, he loved Holin's curls.  He wouldn't want them cut too short.

      "I'll get it cut in the next town.  After I get my drake bounty.  Come on, Kale.  It makes sense.  If you kill the drake — or even if they think you killed it, and we can't prove otherwise — we only get half the bounty.  If I kill it, we get the whole bounty.  You know I need the practice."

      You certainly do.  At the same time, he thought: How can I talk him out of this?  A drake had nearly killed Holin when he was sixteen.  How could Kale just let him go after one now, alone?  It went against every instinct.  It was his job to protect Holin.  They were traveling together secretly, seeking to find and kill a dragon so they could earn Kale's freedom from the strict masters, the dragon-slayer's academy.  He owed them one more dragon's heart before he could be free.

      Holin's smile brightened.  You agree?  I thought you'd. . . Never mind!  I'm glad you see sense.  He turned and began to tighten the saddle on his horse.

      Your horse isn't trained, Kale blurted out, stepping forward.  We should go after the real dragon, not waste time with a drake.  They could be coming after me right now, and we'd . . . we'd waste time with this.  We don't need the bounty so badly.

      It won't take me long.  Holin pulled his sword from his sheath and began to polish it.  He turned around, his eyes shining, and grinned.  I'll do the same thing with my sword.  That was really deadly, how I killed the dragon, remember?  I know you tired it, but I did the killing blow.

      With your magic, said Kale dully.  He remembered that spectacular flash, the amazing ferocity of Holin.  It had . . . he had been wonderful, and yet. . .  Holin, thought Kale, with a kind of frustrated despair.

      Holin was still looking at him, knowingly and gently now.  "You can't . . . you don't need to protect me from everything.  You know I can do this.  I should do this.  So please stop looking at me like that."

      He cast Kale a brilliant smile, his eyes shining brighter than Kale had seen in some time — perhaps since they were boys.

      Kale's chest ached, and he couldn't manage to smile back.

      Holin's expression sobered.  I'll be fine.  I promise, heart.  He stepped forward and laid his hand over Kale's chest.  I promise.

      Kale's throat felt tight.  He put a hand over Holin's and squeezed, tighter, tighter, as if he could never let go.  It hurt too much to see his pledge, the other half of his soul, in danger: but he didn't know what to say.

      They'd heard about it in the last village, on their way to the dragon up north.  Holin had gotten the idea in his head that he should tackle it.  Tackle a fast, young, vicious and sharp-toothed drake, just so he could have 'practice.'

      Kale may have spent most of his life thinking he was something like immortal, but he never could think other people were.  He'd been dead inside for so many years that he hadn't cared much when his contemporaries met with unfortunate deaths through drakes, dragons, infectious wounds, falls from horses, accidents with swords, or illness.  He'd watched ranks drop away, sobered but never really caring, just determining to be more careful himself in future. 

      But this was Holin.  Holin, with his smile bright as the sun, his charming grace and ferocity and eloquent expressiveness, his belief in goodness, and the way he cared so much.  Holin couldn't die.  Ever.

      Holly.  He spoke slowly and walked up behind his friend, who was checking his horse's gear.  Holin.  He caught his arms round Holin and hugged him round his middle.  Then he drew back and faced him.

      Holin's excited expression began to shade to wary. 

      You might need practice, but this is dangerous.

      I know.  I'll be—

      No.  He shook his head.  I mean dangerous for me.

      Holin's mouth shut and he blinked, looking clueless and a little afraid.  You — don't need to worry.

      But I do.  They could kill me if they catch me, but you want to stop to . . . to fulfill some childhood dream of killing a drake?  No.  Use your strength, your power, your magic to help me with the dragon.  That's the only thing that matters now.

      Holin's gaze dropped to the ground.  His throat bobbed.  He didn't say anything for a moment.  Then his hand reached out, touched and squeezed the cloth over Kale's right bicep.  I would so love to kill a drake, he said in a small, miserable voice.

      And I promise you, once I am free, we can come back and you can kill it, if no one has already.

      You — you always kill drakes, because they hurt people — even if some slayers say they're not worth bothering about.  He raised his eyes, with the last hint of desperate hope in it.  Drakes provided only bounty money, and half of that went to the academy.  These immature dragons (who couldn't breathe fire and didn't have hearts made of gold) didn't count towards the number of kills that would buy a dragon-slayer his freedom.

      Slowly, Kale shook his head.  Not when my life is in danger if I don't move fast enough.  Who knows who they might have sent after me already?  If they've found out, or even guessed we're together. . .  He let his voice trail off.  He moved nearer, putting his arms around Holin, and lowered his forehead to rest against Holin's shoulder.  I know how much this means to you.  How do you think I felt before I killed my first?  He pressed a quick kiss against Holin's cheek.  But think.  Think about what's important.

      You.  Holin's arms came up around him and held him loosely.  You are.  He didn't even hesitate with that answer.  All right.  We'll — we'll wait.

      After a few moments, they rode on.  Holin sat straight and tall in the saddle.  His throat bobbed a few times, but he didn't look back towards the scree road and the promise of adventure, danger, and a drake.

      #

      Kale slowly stripped off his shirt, heavy with sweat and rain.  He strained against the tight fibers to get it over his head, feeling hot and trapped.  Then it came away and his head and wet hair popped free.  Ahh.

      Holin glanced over at him across the small room and single bed they would soon share.  He flashed Kale a tired but very sweet, pleased-looking grin.  He didn't say anything, just struggled with his own buttons.  Nimble fingers and perhaps a bit of his special talent helped him.  He shucked out of his shirt.  The two lit candles cast a low, flickering light across his slim, muscular body. 

      Anyone would think you're a magician, said Kale facetiously.  Holin rolled his eyes.  "Are you using magic?" inquired Kale suspiciously. 

      Of course, thick-head.  Don't want to stay in these clothes any longer than I have to, do I?

      Kale snorted.  Too selfish to help your partner, though, aren't you?

      Oh, I'll help you, said Holin in a voice that mixed threat and promise and teasing, a voice that made a little shiver go down Kale's back. 

      He grinned at his pledge.  Promise?

      Holin nodded, his eyes bright.  He slid out of his trousers, smalls, and socks as easily as if they were dry and two sizes too large.  The sight of his supple, bare figure, so unselfconsciously and easily free made Kale gulp, though this was by no means the first time he'd seen his pledge naked and it had been a wearying day for both of them. 

      They were searching for a dragon to kill, and they were in disguise.  And it was the rainy season, so they ended most days wet and chilled; it was fortunate indeed they were able to find and afford a dry room for the night tonight.

      They had been pledged for almost four months, but they had known and loved each other far longer.  That love had been marred by the years they'd been apart after Holin's magic saw him banned from the dragon-slayer's academy.  Kale did not like to think of those days.  Holin's return to his life had marked a coming-alive, and he did not like to think of those dead days without him.

      Now, Holin moved towards him, his gaze soft with laughter and warmth.  He tilted his head slightly, regarding his still-mostly-clothed partner, and then moved to help, laughing a little.  Gentle, supple fingers grappled and opened Holin's trousers and smalls, to slide them down together, as easily as if they were dry.  Holin knelt in front of him, his damp, curly, light-brown hair falling forward, and tugged at Kale's ankle.  Lift your foot, you lump.

      The lump lifted his foot.  He was solidly built where Holin was all wiry sinew and supple strength.  In many ways they were opposites: quick-smiling Holin, often expressionless Kale.  Longish, flyaway brown hair for Holly, short-cropped dark hair for Kale, nothing fancy or special.  Solid hands, slender hands; hairless chest for Kale and deliciously sprinkled patterns of hair on arms, legs, and chest for Holin.  He never tired of their differences: their similarities either.

      Kale let his hand trail to rest on Holin's soft, warm head, like a benediction.  Holin pulled his trousers and smalls free from his one leg, smiled briefly up at him, and then did the other leg.  Now Kale was naked and free, except for his socks.

      Now we wash, said Holin, hopping up.  And take your socks off.

      Kale sighed.  He stripped the smelly, holey things off.

      Holin scooped everything up and stalked light-footed to the door.  He opened it cautiously and dropped the clothing outside and shut the door and turned back to his partner.  They'd already arranged for their clothing to be washed and then dried in front of a fire so it would be clean for them by morning.  He didn't envy the one who would complete that task, though they were paying enough for it.

      Holin's eyes shown bright in the dim lighting, showing enjoyment while looking at Kale.  His smile was small and embarrassed.  He moved quickly to the water basin.

      Somehow with Holin even washing held an erotic tenderness.  But it wasn't just the touching, the nudity, or a sleepy desire for one another.  It was the gentle warmth and love that came through.  He didn't know how pledged love could ever get boring; it seemed to him to get better all the time.  There was such security in always being here for each other, knowing every part of one another. 

      Even when they argued, their connection was strong underneath, giving them the freedom to disagree about which way they should go, or where they were, or any- and everything else two men constantly on the road together could find to argue about in bad weather or where tired tempers frayed.  Actually, he thought they argued a lot less than most people would in these circumstances.

      "Come here, you sweaty, smelly beast," said his partner, ringing out a dripping cloth.  He turned his bright, teasing smile on Kale, with almost explosive warmth in it.  His eyes were bright with both wistful affection and physical hunger.  But he washed and was washed in return diligently before making or encouraging any sensuality. 

      Do you need a dry? he asked at last, tossing the cloth lightly to land by the basin of now rather dirty water.  It landed with a light, squishy thump, and he turned back to raise his eyebrows at his partner, trying to look impersonal and not as though he wanted to rush the process at all.

      I think we'll air dry tonight.  C'mere, Kale growled, and drew his partner towards the bed.

      A faint flush stained Holin's cheeks.  Don't you think you're too tired?

      Oh, me, but not you, huh?

      You were so tired today, Kale.  You know I want to, but. . .

      Don't play the martyr.  I'm as up for it as you are.  Besides, we'll sleep better.  He fitted actions to words, laying them both down: himself on top, fitted gently over his partner's damp, slender, responsive body: bouncing just a little first.

      His pledge stifled a giggle.  Would you stop that?

      What?  This?  Kale shifted his weight a little more on top of his partner, smiling down with a great deal of teasing affection.  Sometimes, he could still hardly believe he and Holin were together now: and that, despite the perils, dangers, and threats to them both, they might just get to stay that way.  Somehow.

      Holin reached up and gave Kale's side a swat.  "Would you stop bouncing?"  His back was better now, and they were taking full advantage of it.  Kale quite liked settling his larger, heavier self onto his deliciously slender, wiry, elegant and tough partner.

      He liked being Holin's pillow, too, but a change was always nice.  And things were, to be honest, quite easier in the lovemaking department when Holin wasn't full of pain from his former boss's cruel beatings.

      Holin bit down on the reply; laughter mixed with consternation and

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