Zander went up and down every aisle of the mess, failing to find his friend. His stomach growled. Perhaps this was best. Any difficult conversations would be held hostage by hunger-induced irritability.


    He claimed a seat on the bench beside the Hometown Heroes.


    Gordan eyed him and nodded. Zander returned the nod. His respect for Gordan had vaulted as he watched him take responsibilities around the camp and handle them competently.


    The studious young man made another astute observation. “You look like you’ve misplaced something and cannot find it, Zander.”


    “Only my best friend,” Zander answered with a forced grin.


    Theo snorted. “Methinks someone plucked one of his arsefeathers the way he rushed out of here when the crowd came in.”


    “Do you think he’s got a manmate?” Vernon whispered, leaning in to dish gossip.


    Gordan shifted and coughed. “You still think that Alfread is—” Gordan stalled for a moment, nervously searching for a word— “an invert.”


    Zander sighed, folded his arms, and looked away from them. Discussing homosexual relations was taboo and anytime the topic was broached Zander felt intense discomfort. His mother had taught him that love was love and that anytime two souls connected in consensual love it was blessed by Leverith. The Leverian Temple, the experts on the Divine Thirteen, decreed that inverted love was anathema that should be scoured from Leveria. The Temple preached that anathema were of Zamael, and as long as they were allowed to defile Leverith, evils such as the Gemstone War, rape, and banditry would persist. The Leverian populace was far more aligned, as far as Zander could discern, with the Temple’s perspective. Zander was twisted like a pretzel unable to straighten out his own perspective. Torn between love for his mother and loyalty to the Temple, he put his head down and tried not to hear any talk of anathema. He hid from the topic, turning a blind eye lest he offend either his mother’s values or the Temple’s doctrines. Zander wasn''t an invert, and neither was anyone he had ever met. Then again, if a rose could hide its thorn in a bouquet, an invert could hide their ways in a crowd. Zander was glad that they did.


    Theo reached his arms out toward Gordan. “Come on, Gordan! Alfread could be sticking his stiff in every lady medican in the camp! Yet, he tucks into his cot in Zander’s tent every night instead of blowing the flaps off medican row!”


    Gordan put his hands over his eyes. “Alfread isn’t an invert.”


    “What are you some sort of anathema oracle?” Theo countered.


    Zander furiously chewed his food, quickly devouring his morning fare of eggs, ham, and hotcakes. Focus on the flavors. Ignore the conversation.


    “He’s an anathema,” Vernon added, his tone leaving no space for dissent. “If I looked like Alfread and used big words like him, I would not be spending every night listening to Theo’s snoring.”


    “Yer divinedamned right!” Theo shouted as he pounded on the table. “Us regular folk are thinking about Mary Sue medican and creaming our nighties with two other gents in the tent when this guy could be running down the lane bonking Mary Sue and Betty Lou too! He’s anathema, Gordan!” If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    “That’s enough!” Zander growled. By now, most of the mess hall was glancing at them due to Theo’s theatrics. “Tend to yourselves,” Zander commanded, promptly dispersing them. He whispered, anger seething from his lips, “Alfread is not an invert.”


    “Bah!” Theo shouted, “Balbaraq’s Balls! You’re a ham-witted egghead if you believe that!”


    Vernon leaned forward. “Hold on, Theo. Let’s hear what Zander has to say.”


    “Alfread favors Master Asa,” Gordan told them. “He believes she’s his life’s mate.”


    Zander mumbled through a mouthful of egg, “Gordan has it.”


    “Bonking the boss! Reaching for the stars!” Theo looked to Gordan like a child looks to their parent for an explanation of something beyond their ability to comprehend. “Isn’t she out of his reach?”


    “Well,” Gordan paused. “I believe that cognitive-affectomancers are in-between highborn and common, unless they were born from lordship.”


    “So, she is out of his reach?” Vernon asked.


    Zander shrugged as he took another mouthful of egg. “Whatever the rules, he tried to grab those stars last night.”


    “Those are some nice stars.” Vernon said. “I’ve fantasized about more than a cuddle with the master.”


    “No denying that,” Theo concurred. “Betty Lou and Mary Sue can move aside for the exotic queen of all of our wet dreams.”


    Vernon’s eyes danced from Zander to his plate. “I thought those stars shone for you, blademaster?”


    Zander swallowed his food and cut through the idea. “I’m not reaching for them.”


    “That’s a shame, blademaster,” Vernon countered. “You’re tall enough to reach whatever you want. Don’t act like an anathema.”


    “Hey, Vernon!” Theo shouted. “Zander is so manly that if he were sighted mouthing a meatpole then everyone else would start doing it to be manly like him. I know you’d be first in line!”


    Vernon coughed out a mouthful of hotcakes. “Would not!”


    “Can you two leave Zander and Alfread alone?” Gordan pleaded. He pointed his eyes and words at Vernon. “How would you like it if Theo started bedding your girl?”


    “I’d like it!” Theo said, before howling like a wolf beneath a full moon.


    “For about three thrusts,” Vernon challenged.


    Theo slapped his knees and laughed dramatically. “Still three more than you get!”


    Zander hoped that Theo and Kenneth were never in the same room together. A moon ago, all this chatter would’ve lifted his spirits. He would have joined in the juvenile japery. Now it just made him feel sick and old. Less than a span ago, Theo and Vernon had watched one of their best friends die and instead of hardening and maturing they seemed to have devolved into children.


    “This conversation is over.” Theo and Vernon both cowed at Zander’s command.


    Zander devoured his food, sprinting to leave this discomfort before it made him leap for someone’s throat.


    Gordan followed him to the exit while Theo and Vernon finished their breakfasts.


    Zander grunted at Gordan. “Zamael’s Hells! They act like their first pubes just sprouted a few days ago!”


    Gordan frowned.


    Zander shook his head. “They’ve forgotten him!”


    Gordan put his hand on Zander’s arm. Dalis, he had a soothing presence. “They are doing the best they can to move forward with the pain. River was…” Gordan paused, fighting off the urge to weep. “He was our everything.”


    “And yet you are acting like a man and they’re being children.” Zander clapped his shoulder. “Keep being who you are, Gordan.”


    Gordan looked up to Zander, tears in his eyes. “And who is that?”


    “A good man.”