The Knight and the Thief

The Knight and the Thief - Part 1

By Pfantazm

Thom was going to get away.

He had a hell of a head start and the sanctuary of the trees was not far ahead. Luck had been with him. He'd seen the mounted rider while the horse had been standing still. The tabard that the rider wore bore the mark of a king's knight. Thom had been standing at the opposite side of the stream, taking water into his small waterskin, and the knight had been some distance away, but staring directly at him.

Over a short distance, he knew, a man could outdistance a horse, and in the forest there was no contest. With his strong, quick legs, the Dark Rogue would escape capture once more.

That's what the people had called him. They used more emphatic and descriptive words when yelling at his retreating back after he'd stolen from them. He was rather proud of the name, though. It indicated his phenomenal success as a thief.

In his head, he was still just Thom At-the-Well, and what he did for a living was just another job. One that happened to be illegal. It afforded him the adventure he craved and gold enough to live, and the cost was a quick wit, quicker feet, and a price on his head. And he would be twice damned if anyone would be cashing it in now.

He could hear the knight's horse behind him, coming closer, though he dared not look. His permanent home, the forest, was tantalizingly close now. Perhaps the location would change, different trees, but the overall forest, wherever it may be, was his. It beckoned to him now, offering safety from pursuit.

And just as he reached it, it betrayed him.

His foot caught a half-buried root, and he tumbled headlong into the ground.

Before he could rise, the knight stood over him, his longsword at Thom's throat, demanding surrender. Thom raised his hands submissively and the knight yanked him to his feet roughly.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Thom At-the-Well."

"You wear the costume of a thief. We've had some trouble with a notorious one hereabouts of late. Know you anything of it?"

"No, sir. I stick to the wilderness mostly. Haven't seen a soul in days."

The knight drew his dagger, then sheathed his sword. He reached for the sack that hung around Thom's shoulder and opened it. When he found only a pair of apples, and his lockpicks, Thom grinned wolfishly. The lockpicks themselves were not illegal, and the apples he'd actually bought. The knight proceeded to feel around the man's body, searching for the diamonds that he expected to find and that Thom knew he wouldn't.

The knight's ungloved hand first prodded the man's raised arms, shoulders, and armpits through the loose, black shirt. His fingers found the well-muscled chest, stomach and back that belonged to anyone who lived by climbing the outsides of palaces and strongholds. Satisfied that Thom concealed no jewels on his upper body, he moved to the lower body.

Circling his captive once again, the knight examined Thom's legs manually. They were more impressive than the rest of him, thick and strong. Thieves that were flabby were quickly caught. Obviously no stones protruded through the tight breeches, but it never hurt to be sure.

The knight knew that some thieves would conceal things in more private areas, believing that no one would want to search them there, but this knight had no such objections. With the dagger constantly threatening Thom, the knight reached under Thom's shirttail to his backside. Above his firm buttocks, the knight had his first success.

"What is this?" he asked as he pulled free a light grey collar which had a squared edge, like battlements. "The Dark Rogue wears a collar like this."

"I found that earlier this morning," Thom protested. He knew that the knight would not do a thing unless he found the diamonds that the Dark Rogue had stolen the previous evening. The tabard he wore was red with a gold dragon, indicating that this was one of King Dunstan's High Guard. He was secretly flattered that he merited such attention. It meant that this knight would be scrupulously fair, and the collar was but circumstantial evidence.

The knight stared down with cold, blue eyes then returned to his investigations.

He finished checking Thom's hips and rear, even dipping a hand inside the breeches briefly. His hand then moved around to the front. The knight soon found something hard, but not so hard as diamond. He straightened up and glared at Thom. Thom turned down his eyes and blushed.

It seemed he had passed examination. Until, that is, the knight stepped deliberately on the toe of Thom's boot. When he heard the crunch of diamonds pushing each other out of the way, Thom grimaced and his body sagged slightly.

"Take off your boot," the knight ordered. When Thom complied, he snatched the boot and poured the gems into his hand. "Must I check the other one?" he asked. Thom wordlessly removed the other boot and proffered it. As the knight collected the rest of the diamonds Thom stood there in stocking feet, sneering. He didn't bother running. He was finished.

The knight kicked the boots back over to Thom and said, "You are under arrest for thievery. You've not killed anyone, Dark Rogue. This will work in your favor. You'll likely merely be imprisoned, not executed. You will come with me to face the King's Justice."

He got a rope from his horse, his dagger always ready. He tied the Dark Rogue's hands together, leaving plenty of spare rope on both sides. Then he ordered Thom to mount the horse, and sit behind the saddle. Then the knight carefully mounted and took his place in the saddle. He had the thief raise his hands over his head. He tied the play of rope around himself after he made Thom lower his arms so that Thom had him in a kind of bear hug. Deftly tying the ends of the rope at his own lower back, he had the thief secure. "We are now tightly bound together. If you try to escape, you will knock us both from the horse, and you will likely kill us both. Understand?" Thom nodded. "After we return the diamonds, we will ride to the capital where you will stand trial."

The knight prodded the horse into motion and set out for the scene of the crime.

As they rode Thom reflected on his situation. The knight couldn't keep him bound that way for the whole journey to Aragon. It was several days' ride. He would still have his chance to escape.

Thom had to lean forward in order to wrap his arms around the knight's expansive chest. As such he had to rest his face, turned to the side, against the cuirass on the knight's back. It was rough, several straps of thick material woven together. Because of the jolting up-and-down motion associated with riding, his face was being quite roughly treated. Suddenly the thief realized that the knight wasn't wearing a metal breastplate, but leather armor! It was a bold decision. If this man was sent out thieftaking, then the close contact involved made leather armor next to useless. Why if he could just get his own dagger, he might wound his captor just enough to discourage him from pursuing the Dark Rogue any longer.

As the knight had said, Thom never killed anyone on one of his raids. He thought that showed sloppiness. He didn't want to hurt his victims, just deprive them of whatever pretties they may have had.

Thom turned his head to the other side, partly to give his cheek a break and partly to look down to where his dagger was. He remembered that the foolish knight hadn't confiscated it.

It wasn't there!

It must have fallen off while Thom was fleeing for the wood. His dagger was gone, and with it, his only hope of escaping from the knight.

Soon they entered the city of Karelia. The knight brashly maneuvered his horse through the cobbled streets. Ordinarily riding within the city walls was prohibited, but his station and situation granted him the privilege.

When they came to the store where Thom's most recent crime had taken place, the knight asked of a citizen standing out front, "Please go and fetch out the merchant who owns this shop."

Moments later, a portly man with dark hair and a beard came out.

"You are the owner of this store?" he asked.

"Yes, I am Caractacus the Jeweller. What is this about?"

"I have come to return what was stolen from you," he said, producing the bag of diamonds he'd collected from Thom's boots hours ago. He tossed it to Caractacus, who caught it greedily. The merchant opened the pouch and looked inside. He beamed. "Thank you! What is your name, goodknight?"

"I am Sir Madoc of the Court of King Dunstan. But now I must get this man to that court to stand trial."

"You mean this is --"

"Yes. The Dark Rogue has been apprehended," Sir Madoc replied as his horse sidestepped slightly. A crowd was steadily gathering, frightening the steed somewhat.

Just then, Thom felt something crash into his back. It was an egg.

"Gee up!" the knight commanded, and the horse moved forward. The crowd shuffled apart to allow them to pass, then closed in quickly behind them.

Many angry cries could be heard, and Thom saw several townspeople whispering to each other, the news of his capture spreading like fire. Others were throwing rotten fruit or eggs at him, always from behind so as not to hit Sir Madoc.

Thom shrank in on himself as he endured the catcalls and the bruises from things thrown at him. Some of them felt like rocks. It was the most humiliating thing he'd ever experienced.

Mercifully, Sir Madoc rode through the city as quickly as he could, leaving even faster than they'd come.

Once back out in the open country, Thom thought about his ordeal. He felt horrible. It was the first time he'd really felt guilty about what he'd done.

He had always picked his targets carefully, gauging their popularity in nearby towns. Caractacus, for example, was thought of as showy, and apparently charged overmuch for his wares. He enjoyed listening to local gossip. Occasionally, his own professional name would come up. The tales he heard made him believe he was something of a folk hero. It excited him hearing his own exploits exaggerated for his own waiting ear. Nothing had prepared him for the hatred he experienced in Karelia that afternoon.

Thom realized that he'd received no rough treatment from the knight. Most suspected criminals were dealt with harshly, even by the High Guard. Sir Madoc could have ordered him to strip to the raw to have his clothes searched. Instead, he'd only been subjected to the minor indignity of being felt over by the knight.

Strangely, Thom found himself wishing he had been told to undress for him. He imagined himself standing on the edge of the wood, being subjected to Madoc's close scrutiny, a slight breeze passing tenderly across his naked form. For some reason the knight was ignoring the pile of clothing, choosing instead to examine his body with his hand as he had in reality. First passing across his arms and sides, then his back and now his chest. The knight stared impassively into Thom's smiling face. Using both hands now (the knight's dagger had never been there), he carefully stroked his legs, top to bottom, measuring every contour. Then special attention was paid to his ass, searching for hidden treasures. Then at last, questing hands passed across his hip to his diamond-hard member...

Thom snapped back into reality, quivering. The alien fantasy retreated. He had never had thoughts like that before. They were odd, yet oddly attractive to him.

He remembered the look the knight had given him when he reached that part of the real encounter. Sir Madoc's hand had rested briefly on his erection and then came the stare.

The knight seemed to show emotion rarely, and in that stare there had been little enough. There had been no anger, no disdain. How to describe it? Shock? Something had burned briefly in those cold eyes. Surprise? Disapproval?

Fear?

At that moment, Thom was glad that he was forced to sit behind the saddle, so as not to prod the knight with his stiff member.

At sunset, Sir Madoc stopped his horse near a small lake. He began the process of freeing himself from his prisoner, first untying the knots at the small of his back, then untangling himself from the rope, then having Thom raise his arms past Sir Madoc's own arms and head.

After he dismounted, he helped Thom to the ground. The thief's legs were incredibly sore! They'd only been riding a few hours, but Thom had never ridden a horse before in his life. He had almost collapsed once he'd set his feet down.

The knight brought his dagger out again. He untied the rope around his captive's wrists. Thom massaged and flexed them. They were almost as sore as his thighs.

"Take your shirt off," he ordered. Thom's eyes went wide. "Go and wash it in the lake. I'll not have you smelling of rotten eggs while you ride with me."

He removed his belt and his shirt, exposing his chest and back to the still-warm sun. "Are we stopping here for the night? I usually bathe before going to sleep."

Sir Madoc looked carefully around. "Alright. We'll stop here. Get on with it."

Thom dropped his shirt, kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks. He slipped off his breeches, and began to disrobe completely when Sir Madoc barked, "Leave your smallclothes on!"

Thom padded to the lakeside wearing only the double triangle of cloth that gripped him across the buttocks and only just covered his swelling manhood.

Sir Madoc bent down and picked up the discarded shirt. "Thom," he called out. Thom looked back. The knight tossed over the shirt. "Wash that?" he said, bemused.

"Right," Thom replied intelligently. "Are you sure this is safe?" he taunted, turning back to face him. "I'm an excellent swimmer."

"As am I," the knight responded curtly, the blade of his dagger flashing in the receding sun.

Thom stepped into the murky lake water, impossibly cold after the warm day. Once submerged, he undid the small knots that held his smallclothes together. He then waded out to some handy reeds that would conceal precisely what he was doing. He used a cattail to help scrub the egg and the fruit from his sodden shirt. He washed himself thoroughly, taking special care of his cock, limp now, and his behind. He checked his secret weapon and carefully cleaned it, taking care never to bring his hands too near the water's surface. Thom was glad still to have an ace up his sleeve, so to speak.

He put on and tied the smallclothes, making himself decent for Sir Madoc again and left the water. There was little point really, since the thing was white and was now displaying his cock for anyone who could see.

Sir Madoc grabbed him by the wrist and brought the rope to it using the hand with the dagger. "Put your hands together," he commanded, his voice somewhat shaky. Thom did so after throwing his shirt onto his shoulder, and the knight set about tying them up again. He noticed the knight took care to concentrate on what he was doing, never letting his eyes stray.

Sir Madoc turned Thom forcibly around to face a stout tree. "Move," he ordered. Thom marched over to the tree, wondering why the knight was having to fight to keep from looking at his backside, also visible through the cloth. There was something odd there...

When they got to the tree, Thom was told to turn around and raise his arms again. He did so. Sir Madoc wrapped the long rope several times around a thick branch over his head, and then tying the ends in a knot on the other side of the tree, complicated enough to use up most of the loose rope. He then took the wet shirt and draped it over a low branch.

"What about my breeches?" Thom asked.

Sir Madoc looked at him. Without a word, he stomped over and collected Thom's dry clothes. He marched back. Thom said, "Unless you untie me, you'll have to put them on me yourself." He grinned.

"Raise your legs," he said. "The branch will support your weight."

Thom gripped the rope between the branch and his wrists, so as to put less strain on them, and hefted himself into the air. The branch creaked and bounced, but it didn't break.

Sir Madoc kneeled down and presented the open part of the trousers for Thom's legs. Thom slipped his feet inside and noticed that Sir Madoc turned away before pulling them up.

Thom started twisting his body around once Sir Madoc made it to the knees, to make the chore as difficult as possible. Still the knight refused to look. Something has changed since he caught me in the woods, he thought. He's gotten nervous. Perhaps I can use this.

"Stop that! Stay still!" he shouted angrily. Thom complied, mainly because his arms were tiring. Finally the breeches were all the way on. Thom put his feet back down. Sir Madoc fastened the hook and started to walk over to his horse.

"And my boots?" Thom asked innocently.

"You won't be needing them," Sir Madoc growled, without turning. Thom chuckled.

Sir Madoc's steed was busily chewing on meadowgrass, oblivious to the horseplay going on between the two humans. The animal was obviously well trained, for it hadn't wandered off while unattended. Sir Madoc went through the process of grooming the horse and rubbing it down after the day's exercise. After the horse was tended to, Sir Madoc prepared for his own bath.

Thom had a good view of the process. The knight removed his tabard, folding it reverentially. Then he unbuckled his cuirass. Beneath it, he wore a blue tunic and silver-grey hose. These he removed, ignoring watching eyes.

Being a knight had many of the same physical qualifications as being a thief. You couldn't let yourself get out of condition, or you were dead. Sir Madoc had broad shoulders and bulky arms, ridged with muscle. His waist was tapered nicely, narrowing from a firm stomach and barrel chest. His legs were those of a rider, strong from having to grip the horse between them.

Thom considered the pair of them. He himself was only 25, his short career as a thief having been a bright one. But that career was brought to an end by one not so far from his own age. He looked to be a little younger, perhaps, his career only starting. Sir Madoc's hair was very dark brown, almost black, and straight. It was cut short in back, but left slight longer in front. The hair framed a face that was roughened, humorless, perhaps because of the high demand being a High Guardsman placed on him. His blue eyes were all the more bright, contrasted with his weathered, tanned skin and dark hair.

Thom was paler and had hazel green eyes. His hair was dirty blond, and not as neatly kept as Sir Madoc's. They were both clean-shaven. He watched as the knight prepared to sink into the water. He felt a familiar sensation in his groin. He couldn't figure out why he got stiff whenever he thought about the knight, or being naked, or... He was glad he was hidden in his breeches.

He'd bedded women, of course. Well, whores. He couldn't very well look for a maiden to love him in his profession, now could he? So he'd used his profession to get what he desired. He paid. But he'd never gotten much satisfaction from it. He'd assumed that the money aspect had been what was causing the trouble, so he'd stopped wasting his money. He'd taken matters in his own hand, when necessary, and he would have to wait for retirement for a wife. But now, strange feelings had come over him. He didn't know what they meant. And they weren't his biggest problem at the moment, either. Ah, here that comes now.

Sir Madoc had finished. He, too, had remained in his smallclothes throughout the bath and now his cloth was see-through. Unless his eyes deceived him, Thom saw that the knight was well hung and stiff as a log as well! So perhaps it was nothing. Thom had not spent a good deal of time in the company of others that often. Maybe all these feelings were just normal.

Sir Madoc used a small cloth to dry off, and changed his smallclothes (facing away from Thom as he did so). He dressed again and began to gather wood for a fire.

Once that was built, the knight turned his attentions to his captive once again. He undid the knot on the far side of the tree and gathered the two free ends on Thom's side of the tree. "Swing your legs up to the branch and lie face down on top of it. I'm going to tie you down for the night."

With Sir Madoc's help, Thom did as he was told. Once everything was arranged so that there was no slack in the rope, Sir Madoc bound Thom's bare feet to the end of the branch. In this condition, Thom was expected to sleep.

Once the fire died down, Sir Madoc settled in for the night as well. He slept fitfully, Thom noticed. He hoped his captor wasn't going to be cranky in the morning.

At dawn, Thom awoke. He was stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position. And he had another day of riding that damnable horse to look forward to as well.

They broke their fast with a rabbit Sir Madoc had caught while Thom was still asleep, and the two apples Thom had in his sack (Asking for permission first, if you can credit it!), sharing them both.

Once the fire was completely out, Sir Madoc retied Thom (he'd been given the liberty of his hands to eat) and strapped himself to his captive on the horse as he had the day before. Soon they were off.

First they made a stop at an outpost. Sir Madoc got them free of each other and completely untied Thom. Inside the outpost there were too many soldiers around to try anything.

Sir Madoc abandoned his saddle here to make riding easier for Thom. He said that it was not his place to make a subject of the King uncomfortable. Thom was slightly worried about that, but grateful for the gesture.

He gathered what supplies he had in his saddlebags and divided them between a small sack of his own and Thom's now empty sack. The outpost would send the saddle back to the capital after them.

Riding bareback and lashed together, they set out once more for Aragon.

After half a day's ride they entered a village, which seemed to be nearly deserted. What few people were around seemed to be in the church. There were two old people sitting on the steps to the church. Both appeared to be very sick.

The knight came up to them, still on horseback, and asked them what was happening in the village, which was called Cairncross. The old man explained that a plague had taken the village. The church was being used as a hospital and that the local wizard was tending to everyone.

Sir Madoc untied them and pulled Thom into the church. Apparently he trusted the horse to stay.

Inside there were fifty or more villagers with wan faces, tired eyes and sweat on their brows. The church was chilly inside. This must have been done as a curative for the fever. It didn't seem to be working.

The wizard, whose name turned out to be Eleazar, was a wrinkled greybeard in a deep blue robe. Strange symbols were etched somehow into the material in white.

"Thank goodness someone else has come!" he cried once the introductions were over. "It is so frustrating. I know how to cure this blasted plague, but I am missing several ingredients. Several other noble souls have come to Cairncross and have offered to help, but none have returned. I fear they came to their ends in the quest."

"I will, of course, try to help, but I must escort my prisoner to the capital," Sir Madoc explained.

"People are dying here. I don't know how long what magicks I have available to me will keep the villagers alive. We are in dire need of help."

"Then this must take precedence. I will go in search of your ingredients at once."

"What about me? You can't let me go, obviously," Thom argued, "but you can't leave me here either! I'll take sick!"

"You are correct. So you must accompany me."

"Accompany you?! How can you complete the task while dragging me behind you bound at the hands?"

"Ah, there I might be able to help you," the wizard grinned. "Follow me."

Eleazar led them to his workshop on a hill outside the village. Inside, the wizard sifted through the drawers underneath one workbench piled high with papers, strange metal tools and bizarre-looking glassware. He triumphantly produced a ring. It was gold with a flat red stone.

The wizard pressed the stone to Thom's forehead. A blue circle was visible there when the ring was taken away. Eleazar instructed Sir Madoc to put the thing on the third finger of his right hand. The stone had turned blue.

"Now you, young man," he said, pointing to Thom. "Try to remove the ring."

Thom gestured with his wrists and Sir Madoc spent a minute freeing them. Thom gripped the ring and pulled. Then he tugged. He could not budge the ring. He wasn't even pulling the knight's hand forward.

"The ring cannot be removed except by the person wearing it. Try it." Sir Madoc took the ring off easily, then put it back on again.

"Now," the wizard continued, "not only will the ring not come off, you can't even cut off the finger. Or the hand! It's all in your control. Now, prisoner, run. Try to get away." Thom stared at him. "Go on, git! Shoo!" Thom started walking out the door. Sir Madoc tried to stop him but Eleazar interceded. "Watch," he advised.

Through the open door Sir Madoc saw Thom run halfway down the hill... and stop, collapsing to his knees. "You'd best go to him, lad," the wizard told him.

The knight jogged down the hill to his prisoner, who was gagging. "What's wrong?"

"I started feeling sick to my stomach," Thom said. "It seems to be passing now." Eleazar strolled up behind them. "Is this the plague?"

"No, no. It's the ring. You can't get more than twenty feet from it without feeling ill," Eleazar explained. "I modified it somewhat, but mainly it's used to train dogs though it works on people too. Better, I think," he told Sir Madoc conversationally.

"How do you undo it?" the knight asked.

"Simply press the ring to his forehead again. But you must do it, and the ring must be on your finger," Eleazar instructed. "The ring will turn back to red when the enchantment has ended. Here is your rope, goodknight."

"Thank you. Now what ingredients must I gather for you?"

"I've written them down. I'm truly tired of having to do that. Good luck to you."

The horse was still waiting obediently in front of the church. The two men looked over the list. The first item was "green sea fungus."

"I know where to get that," Thom said, pointing at the list. The blue circle had completely faded from his forehead.

"Not from one of your fences," Sir Madoc said. "Sea fungus is rare. It needs to be preserved in its water."

"Of course not from a fence. You can get it straight from the source. The Polynites harvest them. We can get some from them."

"The Polynites are from an underwater kingdom. Why would they help us?"

"You're an envoy of the human King, aren't you? You have a need for the sea fungus and a valid reason for getting it. You can always ask. The Polyny Sea is just a half-day's ride from here."

"And for what reason do you provide such helpful advice?" Sir Madoc asked suspiciously.

"I'm willing to do anything that will delay my going to the King's dungeons. Or his gallows. And since I'm stuck with you I may as well help. I'm just grateful I won't be trussed up like a stag for the rest of the trip," Thom said.

Sir Madoc helped Thom mount the horse. Sir Madoc would ordinarily have mounted first, but Thom couldn't get up onto the animal without stirrups. They set off east to the sea.

They sat in much the same positions as before, Thom with his arms wrapped around Sir Madoc's chest, only now Thom sat directly behind the knight. Thom tried hard not to get another erection. The body contact was nice, though. He'd pretty much given in to the fact that there was no escape for him. As long as they were stuck together, Thom would try to be as accommodating as he could. Despite everything, he liked the knight.

By the evening they had arrived at the seashore. Thom dismounted first. He was still sore but he was getting used to the idea of riding.

Sir Madoc suggested that Thom bathe while he saw to his horse. Thom agreed. He stayed in the shallows near the beach, following the convention that the knight had irrationally imposed, keeping his smallclothes on most of the time. He also saw to his secret weapon, still hidden and still useless. He cleaned it discreetly. There was a major problem hiding it from the knight any time he had to relieve himself but he could make do.

He climbed back up onto the beach, wet and clean. Sir Madoc had been looking at him, over his shoulder, every once in a while, trying, he guessed, to convince himself Thom wasn't swimming away.

Sir Madoc passed Thom's black breeches over to him, but Thom put his hand up. "I need to dry out," he said. "It's warm enough. I'll stay like this. Have you got anything you can use to catch fish?" Sir Madoc nodded. "Why don't you do that after you bathe and I'll build a fire." The knight agreed.

While the knight washed himself, the thief gathered some rocks together in a ring. Then he went after driftwood. There wasn't much near their campsite, so Thom had to prowl up and down the beach. Sir Madoc was always certain to follow him so that he remained within twenty feet.

Sir Madoc had to be careful of that while he tried to catch fish for their dinner. His attention was always divided. He had to keep one eye on the water and one on his prisoner. His smallclothes were still wet, so Sir Madoc could see everything as Thom would climb sand dunes or reach for driftwood. He found it difficult to concentrate on fishing, but he managed to catch three fairly good-sized dragonfish. By the time Sir Madoc waded to shore, Thom's fire was blazing.

Thom met him there, still undressed, and he noticed that the knight's dick was hard and sticking straight up. He could see through the cloth quite clearly how big it was. Impressive. He looked Sir Madoc right in the eyes and smiled. The knight's face froze, expressionless. Thom took the fish and prepared them for cooking, smiling all the time. Sir Madoc wondered just what he was grinning for.

The knight dried himself, changed and dressed. He didn't bother wearing more than the tunic and hose. It was, Thom felt, a sign of trust. But he still kept his dagger and sword close by.

After eating, Thom still refused to get into his clothes. He was covered in sand, he said, and he preferred to be like this. He sat on the beach, his legs slightly spread apart, heels in the sand and his arms on his knees. He was staring over the water at the night sky. The two moons were beautiful tonight. If he'd been more observant, he'd have noticed Sir Madoc staring at his unclad body. He'd been trying to avoid it all evening and his resolve was wearing down. Thom was not so bulked as he was, because thieves tend to swing a sword less than do knights. Thom's body was leaner but still muscled. His skin took on a wonderful color in the firelight. He looked so innocent as he stargazed, filled with wonder. Hard to believe this man was the notorious Dark Rogue.

The knight had felt Thom's hard member in his back most of the day. It had made him uncomfortable, not by its intrusive presence, but by the way it mirrored his own strange feelings. He had to keep distant. This was his prisoner. He deserved the dignity of any subject of the realm, but the man was a criminal. Best not to get involved in it.

Later on, they both slept fitfully.

In the morning both men woke up at about the same time. They caught more dragonfish for breakfast and decided how best to go about the task of the day. They would swim out some distance with the tabard and the dagger and dive briefly underwater to look for signs of the Polynite city. Once they found it, they would surface once more, then dive straight down for it.

Sir Madoc had objections about bringing the tabard, but Thom argued that it was the only proof they had of who he was.

They had to swim out quite a distance to catch sight of the city. Wearing only their smallclothes, with Sir Madoc bearing the sheathed dagger tucked through near the hip, and Thom keeping the tabard in much the same place, they dove down.

The Polynite city was built strangely into several coral shelves. It appeared that some of the buildings were built on top of the shelves as you'd expect, and others were built on the undersides, like air bubbles trapped there. The buildings themselves were variations on a dome shape, and constructed of a green-blue stone that had made them difficult to spot in the first place.

These features made the distance to the city hard to gauge, and the two soon found that they were not going to make it all the way down, and they did not have enough air to swim back up. The last thing either of them remembered before blacking out was seeing two odd-colored people swimming up toward them.

Thom's eyes slid slowly open. He was still underwater. He was floating on his back and staring up at three figures. They were staring back. There were all silver-blue in color. They were not wearing much more than he was at the moment. One of the three was female, and one of the males was green hair where the others had white.

"Were you two Sinkers trying to kill yourselves?" the green one asked.

Thom was about to answer when he noticed the presence of a hard object in his mouth. He prodded it with his tongue. It fit halfway into his mouth and had indentations for his teeth. He put his hand to his mouth to take it out.

"Don't do that! That's your breather," the green one said cantankerously. "That's what's keeping you alive down here. You're lucky someone spotted you trying to drown yourselves. You and your friend'll be alright. Now, what are you doing here?"

Thom tried talking around the breather, but the words didn't come out clearly. The Polynites seemed to be able to understand, though. They must have been practiced at it.

As Sir Madoc roused, Thom explained about the plague and the cure, and how they needed green sea fungus from them to save the village. He indicated the tabard at his hip and told them it meant Sir Madoc was a representative of their King. The green-haired one nodded. Fortunately, attention turned away from Thom and nobody asked just who he was.

"Of course! We'd be happy to help. We'll take you to the fungal beds and you can get what you need, but you two look exhausted. You need rest before you go any further. I insist that you stay as our guests a while. We have a special room that we've prepared for when humans visit. You won't need your breathers there. Mactel and Maruna here will take you there. My name is Marlin. If you need anything, call for me."

The two white-haired Polynites were obviously younger than Marlin was. They looked about 19 or 20. Mactel, the male, grabbed Sir Madoc around the chest and helped him to the corridor. Maruna gripped Thom about the shoulders, which he reciprocated, and they followed.

Thom studied his guide. She was very shapely. She had some sort of artificial scales on the breasts and crotch. She had yellow-green eyes that seemed somehow too big for her. Despite the pleasant company he was in, he found himself looking up the corridor to Sir Madoc and his guide. From this angle he could see that the knight was not helping to move much. He could watch both their asses and legs. Mactel's ass was tight, and Thom admired the ease with which he moved through the water. He hardly had to move his legs at all. Sir Madoc was barely kicking either but it had much less effect. Perhaps this was in part because Mactel's feet ended not in toes, but in flippers that flared out like a fishtail. Thom was getting aroused again. He was feeling urges that he couldn't put words to, things he wanted to do but couldn't picture. He just knew that Maruna never entered into it at all.

When they arrived at the room, they stopped in front of a ramp that led to the next floor up.

Maruna explained that they should wash the salt off their bodies with the fresh water provided, eat and rest. They would go to the fungal bed later that day. If they needed anything, they were to pull on the rope just inside the door, and someone would come to see them. Maruna and Mactel left them there. Thom found himself wishing Mactel had carried him instead.

The two swam upward toward the surface in their room. It was large and round, and one whole wall was a window exposed to the sea outside. The view was spectacular. Thom still had to help Sir Madoc to one of the sponge-covered pallets that served as beds. Fortunately he didn't need to be carried. Thom found washcloths near the freshwater basin. He wet one and went to work wiping off his own body. He removed his smallclothes and set them aside to tend to when it was more convenient.

Thom asked the knight if he needed help washing. He didn't answer. He was already asleep. Thom decided that he'd better do it now rather than later. He rolled Sir Madoc onto his stomach. He wet another cloth and rinsed all off the salt from his back and legs. This was the first time he'd seen the knight's body up close. He was nicely tanned - all over, which was a bit of a surprise. His triangular back had no marks on it. His legs were only slightly hairy.

Thom timidly reached for Sir Madoc's smallclothes and untied them. He hesitated, but he told himself that it was for Sir Madoc's own good to get them off. He pulled them down between his legs and tucked them in there. Thom examined Sir Madoc's ass more closely now. There were two perfectly hemispherical cheeks. Wiping them down made Thom excited, and Sir Madoc shifted in his sleep. Thom decided he'd better get on with it.

He rolled the knight over onto his back and took away the smallclothes. He put them with his own and wet the cloth again. He tenderly wiped Sir Madoc's face. It was quite handsome when it was relaxed in sleep. He had a slight smile. Thom moved down to the chest. His broad pectorals had no hair on them at all. Thom did notice a small scar just below Sir Madoc's left clavicle. He scrubbed the chest, and when he crossed the nipples, Sir Madoc stirred again. Thom chanced to look down at the man's penis. It was beginning to lengthen. Thom moved on to the arms. It would take both of Thom's hands to grip his biceps. His stomach had visible ridges on it, like a washboard. Thom skipped down to the legs. They were thick as beer kegs. Thom took a long time, making sure all traces of salt were gone.

Then Thom saw the knight's fully erect dick. It stood straight and tall. If he gripped it at the base, about a quarter of it would stick out above his hand. The raised pole exposed Sir Madoc's balls, which he'd not really seen before. They were nearly hairless as well, and each about the size of a small plum.

Thom himself was now very highly aroused. He compared their cocks. At least in one respect Sir Madoc was not quite bigger than Thom.

He got an idea. He soaked his cloth with water and carried it back. He squeezed out all the water so that it drained right onto Sir Madoc's dick. The water ran down it and splashed everywhere. The sponge mattress absorbed the excess. Sir Madoc moaned a little. Thom set the cloth to him and stroked his cock and balls. He made a game of it. He tried to see if he could get Sir Madoc to moan again. This game was far too easily won.

Thom sat down on the bed and moved in closer. He brought his face over to Sir Madoc's throbbing prick. Instinctively, he took it in his mouth, just up to the soft head. Mentally, he fought to keep his teeth away because he didn't want to scratch. Instead he let his tongue explore its surface. This was getting quite a reaction from the knight, but he didn't wake up. He allowed more of the staff to slide into his mouth and he found he rather liked the sensation. He used the flat of his tongue to caress the underside of the cock. That caused quite a stir. He backed off and used the more sensitive tip to stroke the folds under the head. Sir Madoc moaned and writhed. He thought about taking the whole length of it in, but when he tried it hit the back of his throat, making him gag. Instead he just sucked on the knight's longsword. His hips rose appreciatively. Thom tried it again. Again his hips bucked. They got into a rhythm. The sleeping man, who must have been dreaming, went faster, and pushed harder. On one stroke he slammed his dick down the thief's throat so far it started down his esophagus. Thom started to gag again but fought the reflex. If he didn't, he'd have to stop, and he didn't even want to.

Sir Madoc came.

The first shot went straight down Thom's throat and the second in his mouth. He'd recovered from the shock by the third enough to get off him, but the third shot went on his cheek. The others spilled back onto Sir Madoc's abdomen. When it was all finished, Sir Madoc still had not wakened. Thom got the washcloth and cleaned the knight up again. He licked the cum off his cheek. It was sticky and salty. He wondered if the salt had anything to do with the seawater. There hadn't been any left on his skin; he'd been very thorough.

Thom felt tired now. Well, he'd done as he was instructed. He'd washed, he'd eaten, now it was time for rest. He unfolded one of the large towels. It would do nicely as a blanket.

There were other empty pallets in the room, but the one Sir Madoc was on had room for another person. He lay down next to the knight and draped the towel over them. He rolled over, face down and put an arm over Sir Madoc's sleeping form. It felt nice. It felt good. It felt right. After a bit of settling in, Thom fell asleep.

Sir Madoc awoke in the unfamiliar room. He saw that Thom was now lying face-down halfway on top him, one arm sprawled across Sir Madoc's chest, his hip resting on Madoc's, his chin on Madoc's shoulder. The warmth and weight of Thom's body felt assuring.

He couldn't remember much of how he'd arrived there. He recalled seeing blue people and being dragged down a hallway, and nothing else. He was hungry. He tried to get out from under Thom, but his near leg fell between his own. His cock was beginning to poke through the towel on top of them, creating a mountain above hills of flesh.

Madoc brought his arm around Thom's head, cradling him. With his other hand, he drew down their blanket. He stroked the thief's back. Thom moved a little closer, if that were possible. His caresses soon wandered down below the blanket to Thom's ass. He continued to stroke the thief's hips and buttocks while Thom's own cock heated up and pressed against Madoc's side. His fingers probed curiously into Thom's crack. Thom groaned and rolled back, almost pitching himself onto the floor. Madoc moved quickly to catch him. He gripped Thom's body as it leaned over the edge of the pallet.

Thom chose that moment to wake up. "Good morning," he said.

"Careful," Madoc said, "you'll fall."

"Oh, yes. Thank you." Thom rolled back over on top of the knight. He came to rest atop Madoc. It was impossible not to be aware of their touching pricks. He wondered how much of what he'd done earlier Sir Madoc knew. He wriggled playfully over Madoc's body, grinding their members together.

"Stop that," the knight whispered, but he made no move to still him. His face was sending a different message.

"Do you remember what I did before?" Thom asked. When Madoc didn't respond, Thom demonstrated. He slid down and hunched over the knight's dick and took it in his mouth.

Madoc's eyes widened. His breathing quickened. He'd thought that had been some strange dream. He inhaled raggedly and his eyes rolled to the ceiling in ecstasy. When he looked back, he saw that Thom had taken all of his cock into his mouth. When Thom's lips receded back toward the head Madoc began flexing his buns and humping Thom's face. He was "ungh"ing and "ah"ing in time to their rhythm. After a few minutes, Madoc yelled, "Oh! Oh! I'm going to - ah! Oh!" He came directly into Thom's mouth. This time Thom stayed on Madoc and drank all of the cum, even though Madoc's spurts had more power this time.

When it was all over, Thom sucked possessively on Madoc's dick once more and let go. Madoc was completely spent, and he lay back breathing heavily. He looked down at his softening cock and at Thom, who seemed very happy.

Madoc hesitated, then asked, "Shall I --" He had trouble expressing his wish. "I mean, it would only be fair."

"Yes! Please!" Thom begged. He needed release. He turned around so that his legs were bent and spread wide, his weight propped up on his arms. Madoc spun around on his duff and rolled onto his stomach. He belly-crawled toward Thom's eager cock. He licked at it experimentally at first: quick, darting passes at Thom's swollen purple-pink head. Then he wrapped it in his tongue and pulled it inside his mouth. He copied Thom's earlier movements, acrobatically covering as much of his prick as he could.

He wanted to take all of Thom in, and started accepting more and more of the hot pecker into his mouth. When Madoc felt it come in contact with the back of his throat, Thom coached, "You can do it. Just relax, and, ugh, resist the urge to gag." He pushed a little to get him started. Madoc hugged Thom's ass and stroked Thom's butt and lower back.

Bit by bit, Madoc did manage it. He then did him one better by exhaling through the nose into Thom's light pubes and licking his smooth balls, between them down the middle. Thom barked hoarsely and nearly lost control. Instead Madoc backed off and Thom bounced his ass off the bed. Madoc discovered the small pucker at the very end of Thom's dick, and tried to shove his tongue in. This time Thom did go over the edge. Thom sat on Madoc's hands, so he squeezed Thom's buns. He started to cum. Madoc backed off and released his cock. Thom sent stream after stream of juice over Madoc's legs, ass, and back. Thom collapsed on the pallet, his head drooping over the edge. From there he had a good view of the window. He thought he saw one of the Polynites swimming away, but he wasn't sure.

Thom sat up again and began to lick up the last of his own cum, straddling Madoc's back for some of the further deposits, and eventually lying down on Madoc's back at the finish.

Then Thom rolled off him and stood up. "I'm starved," he announced and crossed the room to a table that had a platter of apples, pears, grapes and cheese on it. He wondered how the Polynites had come by them. He realized he really didn't care and began to eat. Madoc got up and sat in the chair next to Thom. He took a bunch of grapes and began to pick at it.

"Was that alright, what I did there?" Madoc asked.

Thom smiled. He feels guilty, he thought. Always eager to please, bound not to offend, driven by his duty. No wonder he'd gotten himself into the High Guard at such a young age. "If it hadn't been, I wouldn't have let you."

Madoc accepted this but his face was still troubled. "But two men aren't supposed to... do that. A man and a woman are. There is often talk around our barracks about men who... bed other men. They say it's not right."

"Have you ever wanted to before?"

"No!" Sir Madoc's eyes flashed. You could tell he was telling the truth.

"The way I see it, if something is wrong, then it's wrong for someone. Someone gets hurt. But that isn't so here."

"Ha. Here I sit taking lectures on morality from a master thief."

"I'm not saying that thieving isn't a crime. What I've done in my life was technically wrong. I've had victims across Aragonia." Thom put a hand on Sir Madoc's shoulder. "But we were both quite happy with what happened. If I were to crawl under the table and do it again, would you object?"

"No," he muttered.

"And that was the best I've felt in... my whole life! So what's wrong?"

"They said that --"

"Maybe you should worry less about what others think, and worry more about what you think. Hmm?" Madoc considered this. "Come, eat up. We've a quest to complete!"

Madoc looked, bemused, at his prisoner. There had been a major turn in his attitude of late. Maybe he'd found some way of escape and was waiting for him to lower his guard. He must tread carefully.

After they'd emptied most of the platter, they went over to the basin where the fresh water was. They drank. Then Thom passed over smallclothes to Sir Madoc and they dressed.

The knight had no small trouble tying his cloth around him at his hips. It barely contained his girth. The cloth gathered between his buttocks at the back, displaying them wonderfully, and outlined his package at the front. Madoc couldn't understand what was wrong until he saw the problems Thom was having.

His smallclothes were tied with ridiculous amounts of free cloth sticking out of the knots, and it was still too loose. The observant eye could catch intriguing glimpses of skin and hair inside the loose garment.

"Here," Madoc offered, "we should switch back."

"No, let's stay like this." Thom peered down at Madoc. "Are you alright to move like that?"

Madoc took a few steps and nodded.

"Then let's go." Thom reached over and yanked on the bellpull. A Polynite appeared soon thereafter and gestured for them to enter the water. It was Mactel, one of the guides that brought them to the air room.

The knight and the thief put in their breathers and splashed back into the corridor below. Sir Madoc took his dagger.

"I'm glad to see you feeling better, gentlemen. Are you prepared to collect your sea fungus?"

Sir Madoc nodded. Mactel led his charges to a guarded waterlock. Mactel spoke to a stern-looking Polynite with a spear in a series of gargling noises. The guard allowed them to enter a small chamber. After they swam past him, he closed the inner door. They heard the outer door unlock. Mactel opened it and they swam out into open sea.

On their way to the fungus beds they saw intricate reefs, schools of particolored fish and beautiful behemoths. The channel to the beds was fairly well-travelled and free of perils. When they got there, they saw mushroom-shaped growths all over the side of one sandstone hill. There were red ones, blue ones, and a few gold ones, but no green.

"Where are they?" Madoc yelled through his breather.

"The green ones are the rarest specimens. We'll split up and look," Mactel said. "Call out if you find any!" He began swimming around one side of the hill. Sir Madoc and Thom took the other side, making sure to stay close enough together. Madoc checked the upper half of the hill while Thom checked the bottom.

Thom later called to Sir Madoc and attracted him downwards. He'd found a small depression near the stony base of the hill that he wanted to check out. The depression turned out to be the entrance to a grotto. The light inside was not good and Sir Madoc's beefy body was in the way. Thom swam back to the opening and told him to move. Madoc's brow furrowed and he shook his head in incomprehension. The two humans did not understand each other quite so well as the Polynites understood the muffled speech.

Finally, Thom had to physically push Madoc out of the way to be able to see.

Thom found his way to the floor of the grotto and felt around. His hand came down on something phallic. Thom maneuvered his body out of the light so he could identify the color. There were green ones!

Thom nodded theatrically to Madoc who was peeking in. Madoc swam off to get Mactel. Thom followed behind. Soon Mactel joined them in the grotto.

"What do we need to do?" Sir Madoc enunciated.

"First there's something I'd like to ask you. I'm studying to be a diplomat to the human kingdoms, so I'm always curious about our guests." Mactel frowned, wondered whether or not he should ask the next question. "Did you enjoy sucking on each other in the air room?"

Thom and Sir Madoc looked at each other in surprise. "I thought I saw someone at the window," Thom managed.

"Yes, that was me. I was wondering if I might try it," he asked self-consciously. "On both of you." Mactel opened his cavernous mouth wide.

Thom agreed quickly. Madoc relented under their stare.

Mactel explained what they had to do. He'd obviously been planning something like this, and finding the seclusion of the cave was a plus. He began to untie the knots on Thom's (Madoc's) smallclothes, and Thom worked on freeing Madoc. Madoc was stymied by Mactel's swimsuit. It seemed to be made of a stiffer material than any human used, like a shell almost. Mactel showed him the catch on his hip and the hinge.

Mactel's form shimmered in the half-light. His lithe body contained no fat. His thick, powerful legs allowed him to move through the water in almost any direction he wanted. His arms were shorter than a human's, but still very capable. His long white hair swayed in response to the movement in the water around him. His golden eyes had a bright twinkle. Now that it was uncovered, Mactel's eel was somewhere between Thom's and Sir Madoc's in length, but thicker than either of them. His whole body was covered in fine, blue scales.

Mactel helped the two Sinkers move into position. They arranged themselves so that they were feet to feet and facing Mactel. Both men went into a scissor kick: right leg forward and left leg back, and they pushed toward each other. Their manhoods crashed together in the middle. They gripped each other with their legs as best they could, and Mactel put a band around their cocks to keep them together. They were quite impressive, the pair of them, and the touch of the tender undersides of their members was very erotic. They could not have been harder. Thom's was about two fingerwidths longer but this didn't seem to be a problem.

Mactel swam in and swallowed the pair like a shark. He began to suck on the both of them. A body that inhaled an atmosphere much thicker than air was now trying to inhale two long slices of flesh. The Sinkers' breathers were being put to the test as their breathing quickened. Mactel's nimble tongue slurped over, around, between them. He made sure that neither of them was ignored.

Thom reached for Mactel's rod. Mactel repositioned himself so that he could be grabbed. Thom's mouth was otherwise involved, but he had an excellent view of the shiny prick of the Polynite. It was eerily contrasted in the dim light. Thom gripped it tightly and pulled gently, creating an instant reciprocation from Mactel. While he stroked Mactel's harpoon with one hand, he ran the fingers of the other around each perfect, round testicle.

Mactel kicked to keep from drifting farther away and crashed into Thom's body, cutting his explorations short. Instead he contented himself with manipulating Mactel's ass. He gripped Mactel's legs with his elbows and pressed his fingers into the fishman's flesh. It was obscenely firm! Thom gave Mactel's ass a wicked massage, which Mactel loved.

The guide changed tactics. He brought his mouth over the double dick as tightly as he could. It was an imperfect seal, but that was okay. Mactel's powerful muscles alternately sucked and blew on the humans, creating intense pressures on their cocks.

Madoc had the other human tightly between his accomplished thighs but he was struggling to hold on. He wanted to wait for Thom to give Mactel a double shot of jizz, but he had no way of communicating with him. Instead he could only moan and groan gutturally. He was keeping his hands busy, stroking his own upper body, and Thom's legs and sifting through Mactel's hair.

Thom released Mactel's legs so he could get his hands on his pole. Thom squeezed and stroked it with one hand and used the other to create erotic little currents over all of Mactel's tender spots.

All three men were now fighting to keep their seed to themselves. They were all feeling full body bliss. Thom felt Madoc's balls pull into himself and knew he was ready to go. Thom gave up control and he heard Madoc holler wordlessly with each shot. Their shared orgasm was more intense than the others. They spewed copious amounts of cum into Mactel's mouth. Some of it leaked out of his mouth, forming stringy globs. Madoc reached down and removed the band that connected their spent members. They disentangled their legs.

Mactel swam over to the knight. He gestured that he was going to remove the breather. Madoc took a deep breath and spit it out. Mactel gave him a deep kiss, sharing the Sinkers' taste with him. Madoc embraced him with one arm and grabbed Mactel's stiff rod with his other hand and stroked it. Thom didn't want to be left out, so he hugged the both of them, gripping with arms and legs and pressing his half-soft cock between them.

In the warmth of the clinch, Mactel came in Madoc's grip, humping like mad, releasing a cloudy emission between them. When he was done, he changed partners and kissed Thom, and kissed Thom sharing the last of their spunk with him after his breather was removed. Madoc swallowed, put his breather back and sighed. He then went back to hugging the others.

When the kiss was over and Thom replaced his breather, Mactel said, "That was fantastic! Much better than I thought it would be. You two are great." The humans grinned around their breathers. "I suppose we'd best get you your fungus. Dig out the root around the one you want with your dagger."

Sir Madoc picked out a large one and scratched away the sandstone, careful not to damage any part of the fungus. When it was loose enough to be pulled free, Mactel took a stoppered jar from the holdall he'd brought with him. He opened it and Madoc put the fungus inside. Mactel then restoppered the jar.

"That should keep it fresh until your wizard can properly cure it for his medicine. Let's get back to the city."

They dressed again, the two humans keeping to their swapped smallclothes so no one would comment, collected their other belongings and left the grotto. Thom and Madoc would later hear that green sea fungus was no longer so rare. They now grew long and firm in their grotto.

The knight and the thief met Marlin and Mactel again in the meeting hall where they'd first been revived.

"You found what you needed here?" Marlin asked them.

"Yes, sir," Thom said, meaning it.

"Good, good! Take these with you as well," he said as he passed them each a red bottle. "When you get back to the air and dry off, your skin may start to itch. Bathe in fresh water and apply this oil afterwards as soon as you can. Well, I guess you should be on your way. I wish you luck on your quest. Know that you are always welcome here in Polyny." Behind Marlin, Mactel winked. "But next time, you may want to use the launch that can be found on Catsclaw Point. There is a shallow waterlock where breathers are always available." The launch was not too far away from where they had entered the water on their way here.

"We shall remember that," Sir Madoc said. "Thank you very much for your generous hospitality. I'll be certain that King Dunstan hears of your kindness. And now we must go."

Marlin escorted them to a waterlock and they left. They'd been forced to switch smallclothes back so they could carry everything back to the surface and still swim. They left their breathers bobbing on the surf as instructed. They were assured they'd be collected.

When they finally got to shore, Sir Madoc dug out his little washcloth and dried off. He offered it to Thom. They dressed. It was late afternoon by now. They collected themselves and rode back to the plagued village.

Eleazar was glad to see them. "None of the others ever managed to bring back any of the items. There may be hope for us yet! I'll prepare this straight away." The wizard turned his back on them and ignored them until they left, intent on his work.

Sir Madoc and Thom rode to a nearby stream and made camp. By now it was well into the night. The knight took care of his horse while the thief built a fire. They were already itching as the sea salt penetrated their skin. They stripped completely naked and splashed around in the stream. They played in the water too, splashing each other. They covered themselves in the thin oil, helping each other with more remote parts of their bodies. Their skin absorbed it quickly, so they didn't stay slick long. They hunted and gathered dinner, still in the raw, and ate by the fire.

"You've become a lot more free since Polyny," Thom remarked between bites of quail leg.

"What do you mean?"

"We washed without keeping our smallclothes on, and at the same time yet. You seem more... secure."

"I suppose I've decided that if I can be happy like this, there's no reason why I shouldn't enjoy it. As long as it's just between us."

Thom moved closer to Sir Madoc and kissed his the way Mactel had. He pushed his tongue inside past Sir Madoc's teeth. Soon, Madoc pushed back, starting an intense tongue-wrestling session. They embraced each other nude in the moonlight. The warm summer breeze washed over them.

They put the fire out much later and fell asleep resting side by side.