Welcome, everybody!

For today’s clip I’m returning to a work in (sorta) progress that has languished some recently. Longer term readers may remember my swords and sorcery style, fantasy menage story, Radiq. If you’re not one of them, fear not—I’m posting from the opening:

Radiq reined Jessel in atop the rise. The roan stallion blew and stamped; its breath billowed in the cool morning air. A slight breeze stirred Radiq’s hair, carrying the acrid scents of horse and man. Nine days of hard travel had brought them to this hilltop. Their shadows stretched out before them, pointing the way to Thal Qedoq. The City of the Red Mages lay nestled in the foothills of the Great Western Mountains, its gates overlooking the Valley of Sha Harim; he’d be riding through those gates by mid-day.

Ten years ago he’d ridden out those same gates and sworn never to return. But that oath meant little when weighed against the life of the man he served, and Radiq refused to look any more closely at what that itself meant. Ironically, saving that life would mean sacrificing the one true desire of his own life, for Prince Vadim could no more be with Radiq than Radiq could fly to one of the pale moons, which even now faded as the sun grew stronger. Sighing a cloud of his own into the air, Radiq kicked the stallion into a trot and headed down the talus slope.

Thanks for reading!

Be sure to check out the rest of the Seductive Studs and Sirens:

‘Til next time!