This story is a historical fantasy, the kind you indulge in late at night when you're alone in your bed. It's set in rough times and deals with sex among males. If you shouldn't be reading this, don't. In the world of this story, there are no STD's. It isn't like that in the real world, so don't be a risk to yourself and others. Always play safe. The copyright for this story lies with the author.
I want to thank Tim Mead, my loyal muse and proof-reader. Any remaining faults are mine. Thanks also to Mickey S. and Drew for sending very lovely feedback.
Some of the names in this story are not my own. Morian of the Portals belongs to Guy Gavriel Kay (Tigana), Bilari's (Bilairy's) Guts to Lynn Flewelling (Nightrunner series), Bolgar is taken from Prince Valiant, and Sigur is named after Sigur Ros, whose CD is my favorite when I'm busy in the kitchen.
Now, have fun, everyone, and don't forget to feed the author.
--Tom OneTommyW (at) aol (dot) com.
SLAVE TO LOVE, part 4
TARIK:
After a night of fitful sleep and fateful dreams, I awoke to the by now familiar feeling of my back muscles cramping. My arms, on which I must have lain toward morning, were totally numb. It was still dark, about an hour before dawn; the birds were just waking up.
A thought settled like lead in my chest. My life was no longer my own. I was a slave. I was property of that bastard Sigur, who hated me. Not that I cared much about that. No matter who owned me, the thing was, I was no longer free. I had sworn it on the life of my mother. She'd kill me if she ever heard about that.
And there was no way out of it. Well, maybe one. I could always die. Because while I'd sworn to belong to him, I had not sworn to obey him. I could just stop taking in food, and that'd be it. A few days of hunger and thirst, and I'd be free. And dead.
It seemed to me that that wasn't much different from running away, a coward's way out. My heart told me that the oath I had sworn didn't allow me to take that road. The blond bastard may have taken my freedom, my honor though was still my own, and I was going to keep it.
But oh gods, how could I have been so stupid? That thought hurt a lot, that I had brought this all on myself through my own sheer stupidity. I had gotten so carried away having the bastard at my mercy that I had forgotten about everything else - about the wounded Enki, about that boy Malik . . . .
Malik. If it weren't for the brat, I wouldn't be lying there like that, bound, helpless, facing a fate that . . . . No, I was not going to go there! But Enki - I prayed to Morian of the Portals that he may be all right. Then I just lay there, trying to work out the kinks in my arms and back as well as I could being bound, all the time dreading what was to come.
They woke up when dawn set in. My heart racing with anticipation, I watched them both stretch languorously and thoroughly, heard their joints popping as they did it. They scrambled to their feet and trotted to the side, where they, a smaller and a taller silhouette against the rising sun, simultaneously let loose twin streams of morning piss.
It hurt to watch them. They could have been father and son, I thought. Or rather companions, I amended, remembering the incidents of the night. This boy used sex like other people use their weapons. Not with me, though. He detested me too much. And the blond hated me. Yes, I know I've said that before.
Damn, I had to piss, too. Only, I couldn't, trussed up like this. Not without wetting my trousers, anyway.
They returned, settled down by the relit fire, and broke fast. Watching them, I fought hard to ignore my empty, growling stomach and still harder not to squirm as the pressure on my bladder constantly increased, changing from uncomfortable to painfully urgent.
I had hoped they'd come for me when they were finished with eating, only they didn't. Instead they sat there, talking, laughing, occasionally touching. There was Malik's typical giggle as his hand went for the blond's cock. Gods, no! If they started that now, my bladder would rupture before they were done.
I forgot about my pride. "Hey," I called out over the fire, "hey, I need to piss!" Oh, how funny they found that. When they were done snickering, the blond came over and untied me. The problem was, my arms were still numb, I couldn't move them at all. And I was trembling so badly with the exertion to hold my piss in, Sigur had to help me to even get to my knees. I leaned heavily against him, as the needles and pins in my arms set in, turning fast into a fiery pain joining the ache in my nether regions.
"Need help?" he asked smugly.
"Yes," I ground out.
Holding me against his chest with one hand, he reached into my trousers with the other one and got my cock out, aiming it so I wouldn't piss on my own feet.. His hand was warm and steady, his touch on my flesh light, but it made me so antsy that at first I couldn't let go at all. Then a faint dribble began to flow. Well, I had clamped down on that muscle for quite a long time. When it finally started to really rush out of me, my eyes teared up with the relief of it.
"Imagine," Sigur whispered in my ear, "imagine, how I could have made you beg for it, for me to touch your cock."
"I'd rather have pissed myself," I snarled back.
"Would you?" He gave my still pissing cock a squeeze. I gasped. He repeated that a few times. It was the eeriest feeling. As soon as the flow trickled out, I became hard embarrassingly fast. His hand was calloused, rough, but by Luki, he knew what he was doing, the bastard. And I had gone without for far too long. Leaning back into him, I closed my eyes and let him maul me as he wished.
I was bucking into his hand, and really close, when he asked, "Want to come?"
"Yes!" I moaned.
"I wonder what else I could get out of you now. Maybe a 'please let me come, master'?" Not even waiting for an answer, he stopped and pushed me away, so that I crashed to the ground, quivering hard-on and all. I missed the spot I'd pissed on only by inches.
"Fuck!" I screamed. Sigur hovered above me, gloating smugly. What was worse, the brat came running toward us, too. His eyes went wide when he saw me lying there, with my hard, purple dick waving in the air. With an expression of malicious glee in his face he practically crowed, "Hehe, not getting any again, scarface?"
Under their disdainful eyes I tucked my aching member back in.
"Now go and clean the dishes," my master snarled.
I didn't move. After all, I hadn't sworn to obey, I thought.
"Oh, so is this how it's going to be, slave? Fine with me!" Sneering, he drew his knife. My fingers itched to do something, to attack him, snatch the knife out of his fingers. I wanted to grab him by his long blond hair, pull his head back and press the blade into the soft hollow of his throat - Only, I couldn't. I had sworn. But I wanted it badly, even more than I'd wanted to come a few moments ago.
Sigur had watched my inner struggle with a smug, arrogant expression on his face. Probably he was looking forward to carving me up some more. Well, I wasn't going to let him have the pleasure.
"Put your knife away. I'll obey you," I said, and walked over to the fire. I gathered their plates and mugs up and carried them to the stream. On one plate lay a few small pieces of bread and a bit of cheese. I wondered if that was Sigur's method of humiliating me, letting me eat his leftovers, but I didn't care much one way or the other, and ate it all. Then I cleaned their things up. I drank as much as I could, too, not knowing when I'd get water again.
When I loaded the horses, I discovered that everything there came from our, that is Ragen's, camp. They had to have taken the things when I was unconscious. Looking back at Sigur, I realized that the clothes he wore seemed familiar, too. So they had spent quite a while raiding the camp for useful stuff. Oh Skadi. Worriedly, I went over to Malik.
"What do you want, scarface?" he asked, giving me his usual sneer.
"What did you do to Enki?" I asked without preamble.
The boy shrugged. "He was okay when we left. Sigur dressed up his wound. He said Enki would be fine. He should know, he's a healer."
"Sigur - a healer? Healers don't fight like that!"
"Well, he does, and now leave me alone, or I tell him you attacked me and he'll punish you!"
Arrgh! "Listen, brat," I growled, stepping up to him to give him a good piece of my mind. He didn't stay to listen, though. Yelling, "Sigur, Sigur! He's threatening me!" the boy spun round on the spot and dashed away from me toward the blond who'd been filling the skins by the river.
Malik ran right into the Sigur's arms, who hugged him and patted his back comfortingly. The glare he sent me over the boy's shoulder promised nothing good.
"Come here, slave!" he bellowed, and with a heavy heart I went. I already knew it would be useless to defend myself. Sigur's eyes were cold with fury.
"This poor child has suffered enough at your hands," he said reprovingly. "If you ever touch the boy again, I'll make you suffer. A lot. Do you understand?"
I nodded sharply, the injustice of it all bitter in my mouth. Malik, who was still huddling in Sigur's embrace, turned his head and smirked at me.
"Answer me, slave!"
"I understand. I won't harm him," I said tamely.
By Bilari, how I wished I'd tanned the boy's hide when I still had the opportunity! As things were now, the only one who'd get a good thrashing was probably me.
Sigur's eyes were still boring into mine. "You're scum of the earth," he declared. "To molest and hurt an innocent child!" He came closer and spit in my face.
Rage like I'd never known flooded my heart and settled hard and heavy like a stone in my breast. But I held on. I didn't kill him, didn't even twitch to attack him. I didn't attempt to tell him the truth either. He wouldn't believe me anyway.
"Master," I said instead, "we should leave a message for my people, tell them what happened. If we don't they'll come after us."
"You think they'd want someone like you back?"
"Their leader is my uncle. He'd come for me."
"Ragen?" He considered. "I don't want that one after me. Yes, write your message. We'll leave it in the next village."
"Thank you," I said.
Menacingly, he raised his fist.
"Thank you, master!" I amended.
We travelled fast that day, always westward, the white-peaked mountains on our right. Sigur and Malik rode side by side, I, leading the fourth horse, behind them. In the evening the boy cooked a stew from a rabbit Sigur had caught. I hadn't eaten anything since the morning and felt faint with hunger. And it smelled so good!
Like this morning, I only got their leftovers. Malik's plate was licked clean, but Sigur had actually left a good portion on his, I realized as I ate hungrily. I also scraped out the stew that was stuck to the iron pot. When I was done scrubbing the dishes (with sand and a wet cloth, as we were no longer traveling along the river), I laid out the blankets for the night, mine a bit aside from theirs. Of course Malik came over and pulled my blanket still farther away from theirs and the fire.
They sat together, sipping wine and talking companionably, and at last they cuddled up under their blankets where they proceeded to make love as if I wasn't even there. Listening to them, watching them, made me at the same time horny and sad. It seemed I was not a person to them. Just someone to order around, to snarl at. Someone to detest.
Only the second day, and I felt so alone, so miserable. I wondered if I ever would get accustomed to it, and what it would take.
I don't know if I dreamed that night, but when I woke up, my cheeks were once again wet with tears. It was dark, the middle of the night. Suddenly I saw a dark figure looming above me, and something metallic - a sword. I feigned sleep, hoping whoever this was hadn't seen my open eyes. My mind was racing. Thanks to the blond bastard I was unarmed. I waited.
The fire flared up, then there was a short skirmish where Sigur and Malik lay. The man above me spoke. "Tarik?" Oh, Gods. Uncle Ragen. In my heart the joy of seeing him warred with the dread of him seeing me like this. "Yes, it's me," I said, getting to my feet.
Immediately he grabbed me in a strong hug. " By the Gods, boy, we found you! I was worried sick!" he called out.
"I'm okay," I said, trying to calm him.
"And it's good that it is so! Your mother would have my hide if anything happened to you!"
I looked down. "She might anyway."
At that moment, I saw Bolgar raising his mighty arm to take a swing at Sigur that surely would cause severe damage if it hit. I couldn't let it happen.
"Bolgar, stop! Don't hurt him!"
Bolgar hesitated, Sigur dangling in his strong grip.
"Tarik, he took you prisoner. He nearly killed Enki. We've every right to punish him!" he shouted.
"You can't," I said. "You have to let him go."
"Tarik, why? What's happened?" Ragen asked. I started to answer, but the words were stuck in my throat. Ragen saw the state I was in. He pulled me to the side. "Tarik, whatever it is, tell me, dammit!"
"The bastard owns me," I bit out.
"Owns you? How?"
"I swore I'd be his slave. I swore it on my mother's life."
Ragen was flabbergasted. "What the hell did you do that for?"
I told him the sorry tale, leaving out nothing. When I was done, he rubbed his face wearily. "You know, parts of this are almost funny, in a way. If only it hadn't ended like this! Do you really feel bound by this oath? The circumstances . . ."
"Don't say it, Uncle," I interrupted. "I swore my oath and I will hold onto it. You can't kill the bastard."
"You know, Tarik," Ragen mused, "I don't have to listen to you. I could kill him and you'd be free." Be free. Oh, how much I wanted that!
In a move he didn't anticipate, I drew Ragen's sword from its sheath and pressed its tip right under his breastbone.
"I swore it, Uncle. On my mother's life. I bloody won't let you kill him."
He looked at the sword, then at me. Rubbing his face again, he took a step back. "Gods, boy. What am I going to tell your mother?"
"Tell her," I said hoarsely, "that I chose the honorable way. In my heart I know that I'm doing the right thing. Tell her that."
Sometime during our talk, Rikk had stepped up to us. Now he said, "You're following your heart? I can understand that. There certainly seems to be a bond between you and this man - you marked him as yours, he marked you as his . . ."
"What? What?" I sputtered. "It's not like that at all!"
Rikk grinned, while Ragen shook his head. Just like me, he seemed to have his doubts in the astuteness of Rikk's explanation.
"Come here, boy," said Ragen. He hugged me. Then he said, "Tarik, I'll let you do this. Just promise me one thing. It's not honorable to get yourself killed without fighting back. If it comes to the worst, you have to get out. Don't let him kill you. Don't let him destroy who you are. Even as your master he has not the right. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
I nodded. "Yes, uncle Ragen."
"Then promise me."
"I promise. I won't let him kill me."
"Or destroy you."
"Or destroy me."
He took a heavy breath and, grabbing my arm tightly, led me over to where Sigur lay bound under Bolgar's heavy gaze. Indeed, Bolgar seemed ready to throttle the blond, whereas Sigur's face was absolutely without expression. Dagger in hand, Ragen knelt down beside him. A bit to the left, I saw Malik run into Rikk's arms.
"My nephew says I can't kill you," Ragen hissed, looking like there wasn't much he'd rather do.
Sigur's eyes flew up to meet mine. His were cold as glaciers. He pressed his lips together tightly and stayed silent. I realized I still held Ragen's sword in my hand. Probably the blond thought I wanted to do the honors myself, rather then let Ragen do it. I knelt down, too. Exchanging Ragen's sword for his dagger, I began to cut the bastard's bonds. When I was done I got up and offered him my hand to pull him to his feet.
He accepted, but even as he barely stood he hissed into my ear," This changes nothing, slave!"
I couldn't suppress a small grin, but I replied humbly, "Yes, master."
I heard Rikk giggle, and saw Ragen and Bolgar wince.
"Well, we better be off," Sigur said to no one in especial, and then to me, "Come, slave."
Ragen stepped in his way. "And where do you intend to go? And how, if I may ask? Do you think, besides my nephew who insists you own him, I'll let you also keep the horses and other things you stole?"
"If you value your nephew's well-being, you will!" Sigur shot back, attempting to shove Ragen out of his way. Of course, Ragen refused to budge. Instead he growled, "Do you have a death-wish, man? I've already been very close to killing you tonight!"
Just as I thought things would get ugly after all, Bolgar stepped in. "It's the middle of the night. Let's postpone this till morning. Our heads will be clearer and our hearts calmer after a bit of sleep and a breakfast."
I let out the air I hadn't known I'd been holding. Sigur and Ragen both nodded tersely. They were both so wound up, the air seemed to be crackling with tension around them. Malik, I saw, still held on to Rikk tightly. I couldn't blame him. Sighing inwardly, I gathered up our rumpled blankets and asked Sigur, "Where should I spread them, master?"
There was silence all around. Then another giggle from Rikk and I realized what I'd said. My uncle's eye-brows had risen nearly to his hairline, and Bolgar seemed to swallow down a few choice words. Sigur, however, looked at me calculatingly. Oh, shit. I was such an idiot. It would give the bastard such a high, humiliating me, using me like that with my friends witnessing it. He probably was only hesitating because he wasn't sure if Ragen would let him get away with it.
"Please," I said quietly, "don't. Not here."
He sneered at me. "Your uncle would kill me for sure if I did that. Besides, I'm not nearly desperate enough to touch an ugly bitch like you."
With that, he'd hit a sore spot dead on. I just had to strike back. "You bloody bastard! You got hard under me when I . . . "
"Shut up, slave! Not. Another. Word!" He looked like he wanted to skin me alive. Probably he did. I shut up and lay down, turning my back to him. Around us, the others did, too. I heard him settle down behind me. Malik obviously had decided to stay with Rikk that night.
After a while the talking around us ebbed down. I couldn't sleep. Rolling over onto my back, I regarded the night sky. It was clear and starry, with no signs of the impending autumn rains yet. I watched the stars for a long time. Toward morning I actually felt calm, and not unhappy for once. But I knew it couldn't stay like this.
To be continued.