Content Warning

The following work of fiction contains scenes of graphic sexual assault, and acts of physical and emotional cruelty enacted in the name of a fictional, extremist religion.

Chapter 1

Deeper in the Woods

The deer was perfect. A spike-horned buck, antlers still in velvet, it entered the clearing and started to graze on the new spring grass, the sun painting its hide in shades of gold and amber. Hidden from the deer’s view, Matthias smiled and raised his bow. Fresh meat tonight, and more to dry and smoke for the journey. The hide to take to the cobbler to trade for new boots. Fat for travel meal, and the sinews for lacing and for new bowstrings. He drew halfway, waiting until the buck turned and exposed its side fully. It was, Matthias thought, almost as if it was asking for the arrow. He drew back the rest of the way and was about to release when the buck’s head shot up. A flash of white tail, and it was gone.

Matthias lowered his bow, staring, unbelieving. What had just happened? Then he heard what had frightened the deer—heavy crashing through the underbrush, the sound coming closer. A moment later, he heard the voice.

“Matthias!”

Matthias closed his eyes and slipped out of the blind, heading back toward the hut where he lived. By the time he reached the cluster of oaks and the ramshackle structure, there was a horse tethered outside, and a young man waiting. Matthias stopped for a moment just out of sight. Balthazar was handsome as sin, and just as forbidden, and for the life of him Matthias couldn’t understand why he bothered, why he even cared about someone as tainted as Matthias. Balthazar looked up and saw Matthias, and his smile lit up the grove.

“There you are!”

“Balthazar, you’re early,” Matthias said as he came out of the trees. “And you spoiled my hunt. Haven’t I told you not to make so much noise?”

Balthazar looked around, and his brow furrowed. “You were hunting?” he asked. “Matthias, I’m sorry! I thought I was late enough not to disturb anything. But you’re a great hunter. You’ll get something later, or tomorrow.”

Matthias sighed, shaking his head. It was hard to stay mad at Balthazar, even when he was being dense. It would be days before that buck returned to this part of the woods, if at all. “Why are you so early?” he asked.

“You wanted to learn to ride. And Father is out, but he says there’s a... a something I need to attend later. So if I didn’t come early, I’d not see you at all today.” Balthazar smiled and came closer, running his hands up Matthias’ arms, then pulling him closer. Matthias gasped at Balthazar’s boldness. If they were caught...

“Balthazar!”

“No one followed me, and there’s no one out here but you and me.” He kissed Matthias, holding him tightly. “I didn’t see you yesterday. I can’t go two days without seeing you.”

Matthias relaxed slowly, then tipped his head back for another kiss, craving the affection he’d been missing since his mother’s death. Having anyone want his company was something he wasn’t used to having happen. Usually, when he went into the Enclave, the men turned their backs on him, and the women drew their veils over their faces and ran. He was the Bastard, tainted by his mother’s sins, and scorned by everyone. Everyone except Balthazar.

“I like seeing you, too,” he said, then remembered that he was annoyed. He stepped back, pulling out of Balthazar’s arms. “I like eating a little more, though. It was a beautiful buck, Balthazar. I’d have had meat for days—” He turned to the hut. “Come inside. I made porridge this morning. It isn’t much, but I found a honey-tree—”

“Honeycomb?” Balthazar asked. “I ate, but I could eat again if there’s honeycomb.”

“Yes, there’s honeycomb. Come in.” Matthias led him into the low-ceilinged hut and crossed to the fireplace. He picked up a rag and used it to protect his hands as he took a heavy, earthenware pot from the coals. “Honey is in the crock on the shelf behind you.”

“And, a tree, you said?” Balthazar asked. “You could trade the honey, you know.”

“I know.” Matthias set the pot on the table and fetched a pair of bowls and spoons. “I’ve got more crocks ready to take into town to trade to the baker and the miller, and wax for the chandler.”

“A lot to carry. You can ride in with me. Shadow can carry us both,” Balthazar said, using the rag to take the lid off the pot. He stopped and looked at Matthias. “Was this going to be your dinner?”

Matthias shrugged. “If I didn’t catch anything. But Mother would have my hide if I didn’t offer you something. So eat.”

“Eat with me. And when we go into town, we’ll stop at the house. I’ll have Charity put together a pack for you.”

Matthias shook his head. “No. I don’t want pity—”

Balthazar waved him silent. “It’s not. It’s me making good on the fact that I spoiled your hunt. We had steak pie last night, and I’m sure there’s half a pie left. And bread. I know you love Charity’s bread. She baked this morning.”

Matthias scowled, but necessity won over pride. He nodded and picked up a bowl, spooning cereal into it. “Get the honey, and save me a piece of the comb.”

They sat across from each other at the table, and Matthias shook his head as he watched Balthazar stir a large chunk of comb into his porridge. “You and your sweets,” he murmured.

“I like honeycomb,” Balthazar said with a shrug. Then he grinned. “How many crocks do you have?”

Matthias nodded slowly, licking honey off his own spoon. “I’ve three to trade, and two more for me. Why?”

“I was thinking that you might offer one to my father,” Balthazar said slowly. “It might sweeten his mood toward you.”

Matthias looked down at his porridge, and took a large bite to keep from having to answer. It would take more than a crock of honey to sweeten High Elder Cyrus’ thoughts toward Matthias, and he well knew it. But Balthazar was blind to his father’s distaste, as he was blind to how Matthias was seen by the others in the Enclave.

“Balthazar... I’ve decided,” he said slowly. “I’m leaving.”

Balthazar choked, gasping around a bite of porridge, then sputtered, “You’re what?”

“Leaving,” Matthias repeated. “I’ve decided. Mother’s gone now. She’s at peace, and there’s no reason for me to stay. I’m leaving the Enclave. I can go... someplace. I don’t know where. Someplace where I can start over, where no one knows of Mother’s sins, or that I’m tainted by them. Make a life for myself where no one looks down their noses at me whenever I dare go into the Enclave.”

Balthazar stared at him. “But... Matthias, you can’t leave!” he cried.

Matthias blinked, surprised. He hadn’t expected Balthazar to be quite so upset. “I can. I figure that I can be gone in a month, once I’ve got supplies laid in and new boots.”

“And where are you going to go?” Balthazar demanded, thumping on the tabletop and making the crockery rattle. “There are vagrants out there, and outlaws and who knows what else! It’s not safe!”

Matthias leaned forward. “There are other Enclaves. We both know that.”

Balthazar blinked, then dropped his hands into his lap, not looking at Matthias. “You can’t leave,” he repeated, his voice breaking. “I... you have to stay here. With me. You’re my friend, my only friend. You... you mean so much to me.”

“You’re my only friend, too,” Matthias said. “But Balthazar—”

Balthazar lurched to his feet, his stool clattering to the floor. Before Matthias could rise, Balthazar was around the table; he grabbed Matthias by the shoulders, turned him around, then took his face between his hands and kissed him. Matthias jerked, but Balthazar didn’t let go.

Kissing wasn’t new—Balthazar had first kissed Matthias months ago. It had begun as a shy, almost timid gesture, and had grown into something Matthias considered a welcome gesture of affection, especially since the death of his mother. But this... there was an intensity to this kiss that was almost frightening, a hunger that Matthias didn’t understand. When Balthazar pulled back and straightened, Matthias couldn’t think. He fumbled for words, coughing once. He licked his lips and dropped his eyes. As his gaze raked over Balthazar, he noticed a bulge in Balthazar’s trousers. He swallowed and looked up.

“I... I don’t understand,” he finally stammered.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Balthazar murmured, kneeling down in front of Matthias, catching Matthias’ hands in his. “I want you to stay, because I love you.”

Matthias gaped at him, then reflexively looked over his shoulder. There was no one else in the hut, but he still lowered his voice. “Balthazar, that’s blasphemy!”

“And no one knows that better than I,” Balthazar said, his voice equally low. “I know I shouldn’t want you. I know that I can’t ever admit to loving you. But that doesn’t change anything. I love you. I don’t want you to go. Stay. Please stay. For me.”

Matthias licked his lips, then shook his head. “We can’t. This is... Balthazar, you know what they’ll do if they find us. And you’re to be married this year. You told me that your father was arranging it. We can’t. I need to leave, now more than ever.”

“But we’ll be fine!” Balthazar protested. “No one has caught us yet. We can keep on the way we’ve been. I can help you out here; make sure you have what you need. And when I inherit my father’s place, it will be better.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Matthias said simply. He got up and picked up his bowl, scraping the last bit of porridge out of it and eating it, grimacing at the cold, gluey mess. He carried it over to the wash basin in the corner and put it into the water. “Are you finished with your porridge?”

“Yes. I’ll help wash.” Balthazar brought over his own bowl and the pot, put them into the water.

“You can dry. And you’re insane. We’ll both be sent to the School.” Matthias looked over his shoulder. “I promised Mother I’d be good.”

“Matthias—”

“No. I’m not listening to this anymore. I have chores, and I need to go into the Enclave.” Matthias plunged his hands into the water and started to scrub. “Balthazar,” he said quietly. “I do care about you. You’re my only friend.”

“Do you love me?”

Matthias looked over his shoulder at Balthazar. “I just said—”

“Do you love me?” Balthazar repeated. He came closer, putting his hands on Matthias’ shoulders. “Matthias, I’m asking if you care for me as more than a friend.”

Matthias turned, and Balthazar kissed him again. This one was sweeter. Softer, not so much hunger as longing. Matthias understood that longing, that loneliness. That deep-seated need for someone to care, to have someone to whom you mattered. He hadn’t thought he’d have it again. But now... he could almost taste it on Balthazar’s breath, and he wrapped his arms around Balthazar and kissed him back. When Balthazar pulled away this time, he was smiling.

“I knew it,” he murmured. “I knew you felt the same. Now... now you know why you can’t leave.”

“I...” Matthias met his eyes and bit his lip, then sighed and turned back to the wash basin. “Balthazar, what is there for me here? Besides you?”

Balthazar rested his hip on the edge of the table on which the basin sat. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m never going to be accepted here,” Matthias said. He pulled out one of the bowls, looked at it, then handed it to Balthazar to dry. “I’m always going to be the one that people point at when they tell their children that’s what happens when you’re bad.”

Balthazar scoffed and shook his head. “They don’t—”

“They do. They just don’t do it when you’re with me. No one wants to offend the son of the High Elder.” Matthias snorted. “And you will be the High Elder someday. Then what happens? Because I was born, and because my mother wouldn’t leave me to die, I am everything you’ll be telling people not to do. When you stand up to preach on Rest Day, you’ll be preaching against me. What then, Balthazar?” Matthias turned and tucked his wet hands under his arms. “What happens when eventually, you’re looking down your nose at me, too?”

Balthazar’s jaw dropped. “I would never—!”

“You would,” Matthias interrupted. “You’d have to! That’s what the Codex says! My entire life is a sin, and you can’t change that.” He snorted and looked back at the basin. “And leaving won’t change that either. I’ll let the pot soak some more. If I’m going to get porridge oats, we need to go.”

Balthazar sighed softly, and nodded. “If you say so. Where are the crocks you’re taking?”

They rode double into the Enclave, neither speaking, Matthias clinging to Balthazar and trying not to look at the ground. He wondered what Balthazar was thinking. Then he wondered what he was thinking himself; his thoughts seemed to be running in circles. He should go. But would leaving change anything? Or would he always be on the outside, looking in at something he could never have? If he left, he’d be alone. If he stayed... at least he’d have a friend. For however long that lasted. He sighed and tightened his arms around Balthazar’s waist, seeing the walls of the Enclave looming closer. Balthazar looked back over his shoulder and nodded.

“It will all work out, Matthias. You’ll see.”

Matthias hoped so.