Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/the-heathens/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.
"Harcos is over there right now crying -- I mean like CRYING -- all over Pam and the whole damned hovel. Pam kicked me to come find out what the hell you did. He thought maybe you'd got yourself killed or something. What the hell is going on?" I began to weep then, and then to babble, Volot holding me and rocking me and trying to comfort me in a way that I could at least start to make some sort of sense. I guess I did eventually as he got sombre and petted me more seriously, eventually coaxing me to a fitful, restless, Harcos-less sleep.
The Heathens 27: River Rat
By Bear Pup
It was, without doubt or competition, the worst night of my young life. When I woke from nightmares, it was to find Volot instead of Harcos, which brought back the tears which faded into nightmares, over and over and over. My precious Ox was nearly as tired as I was when dawn approached.
Volot sighed deeply. "Stay here, my young friend. You have been true as you saw it. Harcos cannot leave it at this. I will go find out what I can." I did as he bade me, silently weeping, for what felt like an age. My heart leapt then crashed in shattered pieces when Harcos came in. The elation was to recognise his shape, his stride, his smell. The plummet was to recognise his expression. He was the picture of sad resignation and his voice echoed that.
"Volot and Pam have convinced me that you will not dwell here and are determined to serve me. I... I do not have it in me to leave you here. Please help me dress for the day."
"M-M-M-M-M-May I speak?"
"Have I ever said you needed to ask?" There was a bitter edge in his voice; I had clearly failed him again.
"I mourn the fact that I wronged you, that I so misunderstood... everything. Please, let me serve you again? Let me earn the right to be your K-K-K-Kucuk again? I will give my life for that one chance."
He sighed mournfully. "I..." Another sigh. "I do not want your life. I want your happiness. If it m-makes you happy to be my helpmeet, it shall be so. And I will call you whatever names brings you satisfaction. If you wish to be Kucuk, I shall... try to use that name again."
I said nothing more, but assembled his dress for the day on the road as the tears of joy and self-loathing poured from me in equal measures. I dressed him, manging the buckles and straps by shaking my head frequently to clear my eyes. I dressed myself when Harcos went out, and packed our belongings into the cart. When the sun was halfway to full light, a small army of young children were dispatched to let guests know that breakfast was ready.
I ran full-out to the dining space and begged them to let me serve Harcos. Bemused, they complied and I gathered a platter of stewed grains sweetened with honey and a small set of thinly-sliced cured meat. Both were truly delicious. I got them to the dining room just as Harcos entered and I got a tentative smile. I gave him the platter and ran again for whatever they had prepared for drink. It was a very nice, soft tea of I kind I hadn't tasted before.
I returned and Harcos was looking over at Pameten. The other warrior was seeming to stare off into space. He causally pointed palm-up to the porridge and the meat, but put his hand over the tea, smiling. He repeated this a few times before he ate. I was at a loss what that would be about. Harcos leaned down. "Eat what you will, but leave the tea, K-Kucuk." The catch in his voice broke my heart but the fact that he'd called me Kucuk sent my soul soaring.
We left shortly. I noticed that Lavic's head kept drooping and Handart finally took the straps, telling the boy to relax on the cart. Perhaps an hour later, we came to a small grove of twisted apple trees, barren of fruit at this time of year. There was a small stream as well, probably fed by a spring. We kept going and I wondered why no one had claimed that place.
Perhaps a quarter hour later, we rounded a bend to find a group of extremely-shocked looking men and boys with empty donkey-carts headed the other way. Furge hailed then and I followed his banter.
"Good morning! Beautiful day. Are you returning from market?"
"Um, uh, yes! Yes, of course. Hence the empty carts."
"I take you sell things you... find along the roadside?"
The leader of the men simply scowled. "By the way, there is a wonderful inn an hour or so behind us. We recommend it. Especially the tea, even though the hosts told us to completely avoid it!"
The entire group looked panicked and sped their reluctant donkeys onwards. When they were out of earshot, Sziklak pounded Furge on the back and the men laughed. I turned to Harcos as we walked. "H-Harcos, can you tell me what happened there?"
Harcos was in excellent spirits suddenly. "Yes, my puppy. We have just surprised and terribly disappointed a group of men who rob those travellers who have found themselves extremely sleepy about this time!"
I was puzzled and then my eyes went large. "The tea!"
"Yes, Kucuk, the tea."
"That's terrible! They should be stopped."
"We have made a start on that. You heard Furge inform them that the hosts told us to avoid the tea? And their horror at the words? The hosts likely know nothing of the villainy, only one person, perhaps two, who make the tea are involved."
"OH! But Lavic! Didn't Handart know?"
"Of course, he knew. Lavic has been running himself ragged and Handart decided he needed a nice rest." Harcos smiled at my appalled look. "He is a very kind man, Kucuk, and Lavic is prone to overdoing... everything. Don't fret, my puppy, Lavic would never have rested on his own, and would have refused to drink the tea. Handart knows what he's doing." I would likely have pursued it except for two things. My Harcos called me his puppy and he called me Kucuk. Frankly, he could have fed me to crocodiles and I would have said nothing.
The day passed and we found a place to rest for midday and a trail lunch. Lavic woke, still groggy, and the look he gave Handart was worth a thousand lashes. The warrior looked slightly abashed but said only, "Lavic, you know I don't really like tea..." I had a feeling that Handart would not be a comfortable (or a sexually-satisfied) man the next few days. An extremely grumpy (and tired) Lavic did bed down again in the cart when we set off, and Handart spent quite a bit of the march turning to pet the boy.
We made remarkably good time that day, our third. The road was a series of hills, each more up than down, as we approached the mountains' feet, but there were few impediments or distractions. We made camp alongside something that could not seem to make up its mind on being a river or a stream. There were several places were a strong man could easily jump across it, but certainly not with a cart. The road ran parallel to it until it encountered a stony ford. We went back to the bend and a bit father to a spot where the flow was wider but still deep and swift between high, unstable banks. We used that as our 'back'.
As we set up the camps, the men set up the perimeter. I was surprised to find them setting it along the bank as well. I could not imagine anyone wading or swimming that viscous current, much less mounting the tall and crumbling mud bank.
Dinner was a subdued affair, with Lavic completely snubbing Handart and Harcos reluctant to look at me, compounded by Volot's insistent head-bobs and chin-jerks that I should magically 'make it right'. We finally retired to the tent and I approach with more than a little trepidation. I came behind Harcos and began with the ties of the sandals. He seemed to pause and consider, then sigh. He turned and let me undress the rest of him.
I would have happily done anything, including jumping from a cliff, just for the slight smile he gave me as my shaking hands removed his loincloth and I gazed with indescribable longing at his revealed manhood. He gruffed, "Get yourself ready for bed, then." I stripped instantly and stood before him as he reclined on the blankets, suddenly uncertain. Where did he want me? How did he want me? DID he want me?
He looked so sad, so torn. "K-K-Kucuk, Where, well, wh-wh-where do you WANT to sleep tonight?"
I couldn't look at him. I stared down. "Where you want me but I crave to sleep with you, my A-A-A-Aldus? Please?"
He sighed and I looked up, shocked to find his face damp. "Kucuk, you hurt me--" he said, slowly, "--hush, please until I finish -- and that you didn't mean to is not the issue. If you can, well, cannot accept that I care for you, and want your happiness, then why would you want to be with me?" He seemed sincerely puzzled and I bit back a dozen automatic responses of obsequiousness. Instead, I thought about it as I stood there and looked at my saviour, my perfect man, my Harcos.
"I... I want you to be happy. Please let me finish. It makes me happy, it brings me such joy, when you laugh or smile. I know in my heart of hearts that Strasta and probably Marcus felt this as well. Yes, I want the pleasure. Yes, I want the joy. But more, I want you to be joyful. Still wait, my Harcos, please? You were enraged, infuriated beyond endurance when you thought I put your pleasure before my own. Can you -- please my Aldus -- imagine that I might feel the same? That... that my pleasure without yours has no flavour, no power, no joy?"
He stared at me so long, and I was stunned to silence when I saw a tear leak down his cheek. "I... we... We have been unfair to each other, my jewel, my Dasqas." At that name, I began to weep openly. "Hush, Kucuk. You are right. I saw myself giving to you and rejected the giving to me part. I believed the giving to me was a declaration of my selfishness. It was a declaration, instead, of or mutual devotion. Come to me, my Dasqas, come to me and forgive an old man his foolish conceits?"
I melted into his arm and we cried. I would like to tell you of the amazing, incomparable and revelatory sex we had, but we simply... cried for the longest time. We held each other as we each pulled pieces of ourselves, shredded in the last days, back into place. I don't know which of us fell into slumber first and could not care less. I was back in the arms of the man who meant more to me than all the saints and stars and satisfaction of a million lifetimes.
We were startled from our early slumber by a single clang of a warning bell, followed by the sounds of a tussle and the spitting and hissing of some wild animal. We pulled weapons and donned camp shirts and were outside the tent in moments. Bu, who had first watch with Sziklak, was holding a boy by matted hair and the belt of a loincloth as the kid tried to scratch, bite, punch or kick any part of the warrior-noble that he could reach. Bu batted away his attempts and just laughed. The boy froze when he saw the circle of warriors and servants surround him.
"What prey is this, dear comrade? Has the mighty Owl brought us a rat, perhaps? A drowned one by the look of it."
"I found it as it tried to climb over the warding threads. It came up that impossible gully if you can believe it!"
I could. The kid was nearly black with the mud and his eyes were fierce and wild. Even surrounded by sharp weapons, his eyes never ceased to dart around for an escape. "Furge, could you be kind enough to see if it speaks?" He tried several things that seemed almost to make sense to the creature. We were all shocked when both Volot and I recognised a curse in something much closer to our mountainous tongue that Furge had spoken with the lowlanders.
"My L-- Bu, I think it may speak in a way that Volot and I can help." I turned to the boy.
"I think you understand me, yes?" He said nothing but his suddenly wary silence said everything needful. "These are mighty warriors of Rome, one of whom is also a sorcerer. Please stop fighting so I can tell them what and who you are, and why you attempted to sneak into the camp."
"Because everyone is starving, you asshole! Between those monsters who forage to sell to the Romans and those evil fucks who strip the land to oppose them, nothing is left!"
"You steal to feed your family?"
With that all the fight seemed to drain from him. Where the hellcat had been was a terrified and lost boy. "No."
"No?"
"No, you fucking bastard! They are DEAD! Everyone is DEAD. Men came and took what little we had, killing my father. While I was looking for food a week ago, someone, perhaps the same ones, came and... and... and sent my mother and sisters to Heaven." He was trying desperately not to cry, but his nose had stuffed up and his eyes welled. I recounted this to the men who relaxed and sat, but kept their weapon at the ready.
"What is your name? Will you tell it to me?"
"Who are you?"
"I am a servant of a great warrior, the barbarian you see behind me with the two swords. And your name?"
"P'yetury. And yours?"
"I am Kucuk."
He brayed a cruel laugh. "Oh, are you really? Are you that dog's puppy or his bitch?" That struck home and I could not keep the sting of it from my face, or my voice.
"I am the one keeping you alive right now when I'd rather be sleeping! Are you certain you want to tread that path?"
"Bullshit. They will kill me anyway. They are Romans. They kill the weak and enslave the strong."
"If you speak again of my master in that way, they will not have a chance to kill you because I will beat them to it. I have watched that man give freedom and life to men who came with swords to kill us both. I was weak, you little shit, and yet he treats me more like a son than my own family did. To hell with you." I spit at his feet and turned.
"No! No, please! I was wrong. Don't let them kill me!"
I turned back, not at all interested in keeping the conversation, much less the rodent, alive. "Why?"
Bu had been watching this exchange with great interest. He raised an eyebrow to me. "He begs for his life after insulting me and all of you. I have asked him why we should waste more sleep on him." Bu nodded. I caught the intense look on Harcos' face as well. He could feel my tension.
"WHY?!"
The boy started to shake, then the tears began to leak. He refused to cry or weep, though. He simply looked at me, back to the small, lost voice. "There... there is no reason. Can he, can you ask that he... make it quick?"
That request, after my own to Harcos, was like cold water down my spine. "And if he does not want to waste the effort to kill you? Should he let you go to steal from others?"
"No. No. Better to kill me. There is nothing to eat, not even fish remain. There is nothing to steal and no one to steal it from. I tripped on the thread because I am dizzy with the hunger. I would not have hurt you, any of you. I would have found some food and been gone, I swear it."
I turned to Billen and said in Latin, "Go fetch the stale bread and some water, please, my friend." He scurried off.
"If you had food, where would you go?" He looked at me in startlement. It was clear he had never considered the question. His goal was to eat enough to live. "You have relations? Cousins?" He looked down and shook his head. Billen set a stale quarter-loaf behind me with a water-skin. "If the noble warrior releases you, will you run or stay where you are? Your life depends upon the answer."
"I cannot run, and would not try." His resignation was real. His now-dull eyes had long since ceased to look for an escape.
"Bu, could you let him sit? But please do not stand easy as you may still need your pilum, and soon."
Bu slowly lowered the boy to his absolute astonishment. The boy really couldn't stand well and sat quickly. I broke off and soaked a piece of the stale bread and handed it to the boy. He looked at it as poison that a heathen takes to release his spirit to his gods. He reached out and took it, eating it quickly, closing his eyes and waiting. I wet another to his shock, as he'd expected the first to kill him.
"Bu, if we leave him he will starve in a day. He has no one. What do you want me to tell him, what do you want to do with him?"
"Does he have skills?" I handed him another bite.
"P'yetury, what are your skills, your abilities?" He stared at me, completely at a loss.
"I, well, I am good with the goats and I make cheese?"
I chuckled. "Anything that might help a warrior?" He shook his head as I gradually handed him more of the bread, a mouthful at a time. "Do you know the healing herbs, the treatments of a warrior's wounds or diseases?"
He muttered, mournfully, not looking at me, "Only if he's a goat."
"Do you cook? Clean? Fight?" He shook his head each time.
"No, only goats. But I'm very fast. My name means quicksilver because my father says I can slip into any sort of trouble just as quickly." His voice had been animated for that moment, then the resignation returned. I laughed and related that to Bu, who smiled.
"Tell him that I will tie him to make sure that he does not harm us in the night because I do not trust him. But we will discuss what to do with him in the morning. At the least, I am willing to feed him from my supplies. If his story is true, he has had few good things lately and it costs me nothing, really."
My master used his gruff, no-argument voice. "We will feed him. Until you are once again a noble, you will not take such liberties upon yourself, warrior-Bu."
Bu smiled gently at Harcos. "As you say it shall be, Sergeant."
I explained the situation to P'yetury who seemed to have lost his ability to care now that he had a few morsels in his belly. He seemed too exhausted to do anything else. Bu tied him securely, hands and feet, to the stake of his own tent and I left the bread and water-skin in his not-very-great reach. He was asleep in moments.
We woke to day four of our journey. I relished the piss I coaxed from Harcos, rejoiced in the orgasm I gave him, giggled and protested through his own manipulations of my boy/manhood. His finger deep inside and his giant paw teasing my cock made me shoot extravagantly onto the floor of our tent and, at his encouragement, I gave full voice to my elation. The interruption of the night was long forgotten.
I scampered to the fire and literally knocked Volot over in my rush to get the grains set for the breaking of the fast. He laughed and nudged me, "So the crisis is over, my little puppy-dog?"
"YES! And I exalt you and Pameten for making it possible. I will someday find a way to repay you both, I swear before... before all the gods of Rome."
He lowered his voice so only I could hear, even though there was no one else within ranges of a normal voice. He spoke deeply, slowly, considering each word. "Swearing upon your One True God is fine with me, my brother. Until I met Pameten, I denied the value of all the gods, yours no less than those more familiar. With Pam, I find I am equally comfortable with them all, for any of them may have brought me here. And you needn't swear or even repay me. Without your intervention that very first day, I would never have found the real Pam, my purpose, my new life. I would never have survived at all. You saved me, my brother, and I will never forget that."
My jaw gaped. The Ox, my friend Volot, had never spoken so much at a time that I could recall. I can't imagine why, but I pulled him into a deep and heartfelt kiss and found that both our bodies responded. I pulled away. "You, my wonderful Ox, are more precious that rubies." I turned to work the grains, but not before noticing the extremely bright blush (and nearly-hard manhood) of my friend.
I heard him gasp and turned. A bundle of ropes stood next to Bu's tent, but nothing else. I recalled the boy, then. He'd scampered. Bu came out of his tent about then and looked sadly at the ropes. "I wish the little bugger well. I wish he'd stayed long enough for us to at least feed him." Everyone rose about then and we made a quick check of belongings. The stranger had not even taken food, some of which was fairly obvious.
A flurry of movement all around me and a sudden, terrified squeal drew my attention around. The dirt-blackened boy stood in the midst of a pile of firewood, shaking in terror. Understandable, since within inches of his face and chest were a pilum, two swords and a stiletto, and a bow was cocked and aimed at his forehead. His eyes sought me out. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I went for wood. Please tell them I went for wood!"
The weapons withdrew when I spoke but Bu scowled at him. "Ask the whelp how he got loose."
"P'yetury, the warrior-noble asks how you untied the ropes."
The boy smiled tentatively. "I didn't really think he meant for me to stay tied up, as simple as the knots were. I thought it was a test? To see if I had skills? And, well, whether I would be loyal to the ones who fed me. I, um, take it that I was wrong?"
The men laughed uproariously at the expense of Bu's knot-tying abilities. I pulled the petrified P'yetury toward me; the laughter had unnerved him more than the weapons. "Come, let's get the grime off you. Romans hate dirt. Then you will have food before they decide what is to be done with you. I can promise this, though: From that reaction, it will mean a better lot than you had last sundown."
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 33 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 25 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 26 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Lake Desolation: 18 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Culberhouse Rules: 9 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven's Claw: 8 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/ Ashes & Dust: 3 chapters .../rural/ashes-and-dust/