Chapter 8: The Reply

Corwin gave Leander the letter before they were out of the carriage.

Leander read it twice by the window with his lips pressed white.

"Double," he said.

"What he has ever paid you.

"It's a generous man who values a lie that highly."

"I will burn it, my lord."

"No.

"You'll accept."

Leander folded the paper along its crease.

"A man who thinks his hound is his again will tell the hound everything.

"Write him that you'll swear, that I'm worse, that I wake screaming and talk to the walls."

"And is that true?"

"Write it," said Leander.

In the study the fire was lit.

Leander walked to the desk, shoved the inkwell and the blotter to one side, and stood with both palms flat on the polished wood.

"Close the door."

Corwin closed it.

"Lock it."

Corwin turned the key.

"Now come here."

Corwin went.

Leander didn't look around.

His shoulders were rigid under the black coat.

"I will dictate the reply," Leander said.

"You will say each line back to me exactly, in your butler's voice, while you fuck me over this desk.

"If you stumble, I'll begin again.

"If I stumble, I'll have you flogged."

"You've said that three times now, my lord."

"I keep my word."

He pushed his coat off one shoulder.

Corwin understood.

He understood perfectly, and he knew he wouldn't survive it.

He took the oil from the drawer where he had put it at dawn.

Leander undid his own trousers and shoved them to his knees.

Corwin stood behind him and ran one hand down the long line of his back.

He stroked oil into Leander, two fingers, then three, to the sound of Leander's breath going ragged against the wood.

Leander's hips pushed back to meet his hand.

"First line," Leander said hoarsely.

"*My lord Hadrian, I have received your letter.*"

Corwin lined up behind him.

"*My lord Hadrian,*" he said calmly, "*I have received your letter.*"

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