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He’d never slept like this, even while hunting, but the chill air removed any qualms he might have held. The fires threw out a decent amount of heat, and pinned tight between two older men, Yveni was almost comfortable. Too tired to care about the “almost” part, he closed his eyes and knew no more until the next morning.

Chapter Four
     
    The youth stared at him the entire time Paole tended to his sister. The young woman was suffering from mastitis, and her brother acted as chaperone in the absence of her husband and parents. Not an unusual situation, but the boy’s frank admiration was new. Actually, not new, since Paole had attracted such looks before, but new in that for the first time in his life, he could stare back if he wanted.
    But he found it hard to break a habit of such long standing, and besides, his patient needed his attention. “Plenty of fluids, especially tea with these herbs,” he told her. “Massage and heat before you feed the baby. If the pain grows worse, use cold compresses.”
    “Will it get better?”
    Her voice trembled. Her first child, and her parents gone to market, she needed reassurance as much as anything. He fixed her firmly with his gaze. “Yes, it will. Your child’s healthy, and so are you. There’s no infection. I can See it.” He touched his temple.
    She relaxed at once. “Thank you. My mother would say I’m being silly—”
    “Not at all. I’ll be in the area another two days. Your brother knows my camp if you need more help.”
    She thanked him again, and he accepted the modest fee. The family were comfortable, successful farmers, so could pay in coin. Many of his patients paid in kind, which suited him just as well. And those who couldn’t pay at all except in gratitude, offered him something he treasured more than gold—their trust and their respect.
    He left the house near sunset. He’d seen a good number of patients today in this village. Tomorrow he would set out his stall and dispense. That had been Mathias’s pattern, and Paole saw no reason to alter it. First day, call in at the herbalists and dispensaries, and make his availability known. Next day, call on the sick—word went round pretty quickly, especially as he’d treat the poor for free. Then set up his stall for a day or two, and make more calls if needed, never staying in one village more than a week, because it upset the local healers. Mathias’d had a good relationship on his route with his fellow practitioners, and Paole would do nothing to disturb that. He had his own practice to build now. It could take many years before he was accepted as Mathias had been. Paole was patient. He would wait as long as it took.
    He stretched his back, and thought about what he could make for his supper. He jumped a little as someone spoke from behind him.
    “My sister wanted you to have this, Master Paole.”
    Paole turned. The doe-eyed youth, Lorn, held out two loaves of seed bread.
    “That’s very kind, but not necessary. You paid my fee.”
    “I know. It’s a gift. Maybe…I could carry it to your camp.” Lorn lowered long lashes over those soft brown eyes.
    “How old are you, Lorn?”
    “Eighteen. My sister isn’t alone. There are servants.” The boy had it all planned out.
    “Then if you want to come to my camp, you’re welcome.”
    Lorn was overeager and clumsy, but he was a beauty to behold, with perfect brown skin and long, clean limbs. To Paole, who hadn’t been touched this way in more than ten years, the boy made a feast almost too rich to dream of. His kisses made Paole headier than a mug of strong beer, the feel of his fingers delicious and strange. Lorn, for all his youth, took the lead and Paole gladly let him, for what did he know of this act except a few fumbled gropes in the dark, and brief furtive rutting where the masters couldn’t see them.
    Lorn tugged at Paole’s belt and opened his trousers. Paole’s cock poked rudely out, exposing it to Lorn’s liquid and still