The prince spent all of his free time with the captive. Now soft singing and crooning was a constant background to daily life in his household. There were fewer disagreements among the staff and serenity seemed the order of the days. Samein knew it was probably the effects of the prince’s song. The Chosen wondered at the nature of the man who appeared akin to beasts and they worried. Khalil, however, was overjoyed his friend had found something to keep him alive. Giving up his lover to a soul call was one thing, but the double blow of Khalil possibly dying was more than Blayr’s heart and mind could handle. Now the sky blue eyes of the stranger followed Blayr’s every move. When he finally stood on his feet, it was Blayr he reached for when unbalanced. When nightmares plagued him, only Blayr’s presence soothed him back to sleep. He spoke in a guttural language that no one had ever heard. Megyn compared it to the occasional huffs and grunts Blayr’s jaguar made. Everyone made an effort to learn his strange tongue and teach him the language of the prince. They could not discover any word recognizable as a name, so called him Jas.
When Jas finally ventured beyond his room, the jaguar accompanied him everywhere. The first time they met Jas and cat clung to each other. He explained to Blayr that across the sea, almost all the cats were gone, decimated by the invaders. For all he knew no one in his tribe remained alive. They had been a small group protected by high mountains, stormy weather and near freezing winters. Violently territorial, the other tribes feared them. But that was before the invaders came from across the great water. Jas explained he was sentinela, a guardian whose heightened senses helped him warn his people of changes in the weather, movement of game and incursion of enemies. His personal guardian had come from the southern jungles. The remnants of his tribe fleeing before the invaders. The shaman was killed in the last battle. Jas did not know how he came to be captive. He just remembered a bright light, then the hold of a ship, vomiting until he was too weak to fight his captors. Without InCacha, he lost control and was helpless. It was in the palace when his senses appeared to settle. He blushed as he explained all his senses had focused on the prince and Blayr was his ordained protector.
It was discovered, although he could occasionally indulge in some sweet concoction, his basic diet was barely cooked meat and plain water. He recovered quickly after his dietary problems were solved. Soon the man beast was training with the Chosen. He was fiercely competitive in combat and when necessary resorted to teeth and claw to defeat his opponent. Yet again, Blayr discovered he was gentle and very careful with the females and children of the household.
It was near time to introduce Jas to the court. The prince spent many hours preparing the man for the trial of sitting through a night of gossip and speculation. His entire group would go clothed in crimson and he would tell his father the date of their sacrifice.
But before their appearance he must close his circle and to that end he intended to take the Chosen and Khalil on a hunting trip, leaving his regular troops behind. The captain protested Blayr’s intention to ride into the mountains with so few to protect him. He was so adamant that an escort go with them, Blayr flew into one of his extreme rages. It took Tiger clan’s combined strength to hold him back. But that did not prevent Jas from attacking the man with teeth and claw, then turning on the clan members. Chaos insued until prince began to croon in response to the beast man’s attack. Jas was growling and defiant as Blayr coaxed him away from the others into the privacy of their room. He pushed the prince onto the bed scenting and touching, looking, listening and finally tasting to insure the smaller man’s well being. The tasting lead to Blayr writhing and crying out in pleasure while Jas laved his entire body with rough tongue and hands. When control returned Jas still lay beside him, trembling with desire and no little fear. Blayr rolled over and covered him. Jas stopped him.
"I need."
"Tell me and I will provide it."
"I can only do this with you. I need you...closer. I need to belong to you. "
The man blushed and looked away before gathering himself for the obviously embarrassing conversation ahead.
"There is a ritual. Even InChaca’s people knew of it. My senses became confused. I could not control them. It was time for my protector to find me or die. My people placed me on the altar and left. I do not know how long. There was so much pain. I was...afraid."
He turned his face away again, his shame obvious.
"How old were you Jas?"
"I had been on sixteen hunts. Without a guide we eventually die. No one in my tribe was called to me. I remember gentle hands and strange sounds then I was myself and InCacha was there holding me, moving inside me."
His eyes were stark with fear of rejection from his new Guide.
"I understand Jas. You need me to make love to you, to seal my promise to protect you."
Jas nodded, relieved of the burden, knowing that this one would not fail him.
Mindful of his new lover’s sensitivities, Blayr began stroking his hair, eventually calming him. When Blayr kissed Jas for the first time, lust hit him so hard he almost flipped the man over and took him right there. The beast man whimpered when he finally tore his mouth away. He licked the taste of his Guide’s blood from his canines and inhaled his scent. He sucked on the curly hair that flowed across his face as Blayr licked an agonizing path along his body. His sense of touch was so high, each strand was like fingers sending thousands of messages to over stimulated nerves. He keened in pleasure, his body arching off the bed as the curls trailed behind Blayr’s mouth. The prince swayed above Jas’s body, his long hair flipped over his head to cover the writhing form. He avoided the swollen member with his mouth and concentrated on the entrance he must breach to complete the bond. Jas was consumed by his body’s sensations. The well oiled fingers and blunt head of Blayr’s member only raised the pleasure to unbearable levels. He was screaming in ecstasy bordering on pain when he found release. Blayr’s scream echoed his own. The writhing body held the prince long after he released life’s essence and sense.
It was dark when he woke curled around Jas’s body. A full moon filled his rooms with light near day bright. He lay along time staring at it and listening to the rough purr of his lover’s slumber. It came to him what must be done and he prepared himself, careful to not wake the man who had in so short a time became his soul mate. He did not expect that when he dreamed of the beast man’s arrival, only the culmination of his destiny. If he was to die on his father’s altar he would experience the one thing denied him.
Khalil had lived under the threat of death if he breached the prince’s body. There had been times when Blayr thought he would risk anything to experience what he did to Khalil just once.
Soon he must take the Chosen but before that day he would have this knowledge. He knew intuitively that he must close the connection with Jas before any other. To that end the prince began to nuzzle the sensitive skin behind his ears and lick his neck and shoulders. Jas turned into the caresses, the purr louder and faster as pleasure drew him from sleep. Blayr covered him, sliding his sweaty torso in a rocking motion which soon had Jas squirming beneath him anxious for more contact. He rubbed Jas’s nipples and then suckled them hard, alternating the two until the man moaned continuously. The prince wrapped his fingers around the beast man’s member lowering himself carefully. Jas was insensible to anything but completion. Instinct took over when Blayr’s body impaled itself. He arched and rolled his hips then suddenly rose up to grab the prince by the waist. Blayr’s head was thrown back, his eyes wide with shock. He was without control for the first time in his life. Hard nails sank into his flesh. Jas lifted him and pushed him down, heedless of anything but the driving need to mate. Pain warred for dominance, but Blayr could not stop Jas. He could not catch his breath to sing the spell and truth be known he didn’t want to. Jas was growling, fangs gleaming in the moonlight. His eyes were black pools, void of human sensibilities. It was not enough! He rolled, burying Blayr in the covers. He hammered into the smaller man until every muscle locked and he spilled his seed. Sudden knowledge filtered into his stunned brain. But before he could recoil, Blayr wrapped his trembling arms around the man and hugged him close. He hurt the guide! He could smell the blood! The prince sang. The sentinela was soothed into sleep. When he woke in the mornings light he would not remember that his claw like nails had raked the Guide’s flesh until blood flowed.
InCacha never touched him after the first time on the altar. The southern people did not expect the relationship to be more than warrior brothers and sisters. InCacha had a mate of his own. Jas’s people mated sentinela and guide for life regardless of sex. So Jas’s status prohibited him from mating with any other. He came to Blayr’s bed after thirty eight hunts practically untouched. He did not know that his uncontrolled response thrilled Blayr. It would be just as dangerous to rouse Jas for sex as it would be to pummel his jaguar guardian with a stick! It was necessary for the prince to use some of the healing creams left in the room in a place he would never thought of just a day ago. Megyn soothe his visible wounds with her magical remedies all the while admonishing the prince in her own sibilant language. This was highly amusing to the prince so he hissed and snapped back at her until she clouted him over the ear. He was in hysterics as he fell off the stool. He flipped up the bowl of water and doused her with it, before running away. He spent the day pulling practical jokes on everyone, not necessarily to their mutual amusement. They could not stay angry very long. It was good to see Blayr’s lighter side after so many months of sullen brooding.
When Jas began to stir, Blayr knew and hurried back to his room. He pounced on the sleepy cat man drawing him once again into a sensory blizzard of pleasure for the remainder of the night.
The next morning was spent in conversation, first with Jas then Khalil and each of the Chosen. In contrast to the previous days high spirits, by mid afternoon all of Blayr’s inner circle had retired to their quarters. None of them were present while he received the usual courtiers and petitioners that he father occasionally burdened him with. He was thoughtful as he placed his seal on scrolls determining the fate of so many people. Later that night he brooded over dinner. Jas sat on the floor at his feet curled up with the jaguar. The two sets of eyes watched him impassively as he waited for the Chosen to present themselves. He was startled out of his revelry by Khalil and Megyn’s entrance. She put her arms around the slave and kissed him until he was flushed and aroused. Khalil smiled into her eyes. He walked to Blayr’s side and kneeling, brushed he hands across Jas’ brown hair and the jaguar’s black pelt.
"My prince, my heart has ever been yours. From the time we were children you always tried to protect me. For a slave, I have lived as many kings do not. In this next trial I am with you whatever the out come."
"Even if it means you follow me to the altar?"
"Even to death my prince."
And Khalil kissed Blayr as if they had never been parted. When he heard the rumbling growl from both man and jaguar, he broke away from the prince and laughed. He leaned over and kissed Jas, surprising him to silence.
"I have found the other half of my soul wild man, even as you have." He stood and moved to Blayr’s back.
Megyn approached but did not kneel.
"I serve the Great Queen Mother. I expected you to be as your sire. Instead I found a man torn between his heritage and his heart. You were within your rights to end my life as surely as the welder of the knife, yet you did not. I thought to be Chosen was your revenge until I heard the others speak of the horrors you saved them from. The people talk of your strange whims of kindness and your pursuit of murderers and slavers, even as you own slaves. I was surprised to discover that not one bears a mark of violence and you even killed to avenge another. Even the children have not been sold to others. There is more here than meets the eye. I will stand with you Slayer of Bandits, so that I may understand."
"Even if it means you follow me to the altar?"
"Even to death, o prince."
And she took her place at this back.
Samein and his Tiger Clan entered the room with Rafe two steps behind them. Joel stepped to the fore and spoke for his clan.
"You are the Snarling Wolf, son of the scourge of our world. Yet the Tiger fawns at your feet. Even wounded Samein could have torn you apart that day, yet something stayed his hand. Daily you stand unarmed in the midst of us, the most hate filled of your enemies. We carry the sharpest of blades and you ever have your back to us. During the first campaign in a land of snow you crept from your bedding and into our arms for warmth with no thought to your safety or rejection. You are as a babe ignorant of the world, forever captivated by this and that. We have seen you berserk on the battlefield, without mercy, leaving none alive to kill again. We do not understand the child, but we cherish him. We do not understand Snarling Wolf, reaver on one hand and comforter of children on the other. We will follow you and do as you bid for the Tiger fawns at your feet."
"Even if it means you follow me to the altar?"
"Even to the Tiger’s mouth strange child."
The Tiger clan moved as one an stood at his back.
Rafe approached and went to his knee, bowing his head.
"I am a farmer as my father and grand sires were before me. I believed if I spoke not and kept my head down I would be left alone. Yet evil destroyed my little haven as if it was a mighty fortress. Then you came and saved the life of my family. That day in your tent I did not see one cherished above all others warming your body with fragrant oils, I saw a slave with the lash hanging over his back. It shocked me that he spoke so boldly to you. It stunned me that you did not have me flogged for defying you. I did not know what to do, even after I spoke to Samein. I was afraid, yet why would you bring me here as a sacrifice, then teach me to read and write? Why train me so that I can kill any threat and then say I must throw my life away to the Drinker of Blood? There is more here than meets the eye, my lord. You are up to something. I think I will live to see my mother rocking her grandchildren in her arms. I will follow you."
"Even to the altars of my father?"
"My sword to the death...o king."
And Blayr startled at the last. He would be king of nothing.
Rafe regained his feet and awaited his lord’s pleasure.
Jae slipped into the room.
Blair stepped away from his group and welcomed the mother of his heart. Her hair was now white and the faint lines around her eyes denied her true age.
"My son, all has been prepared and the horses await thee."
"I thank you. Be sure all is in order for our grand entrance at court. We go before my father soon after I return."
"It will be as you wish. Go quickly while the garrison sleeps as the dead."
Blair laughed aloud. Jae had solved the problem of the conscientious guardsmen by drugging them.
"Jae, of all you are the most resourceful."
"The most deceitful you mean, exasperating boy. Go on with you."
He turned to his loyal followers and motioned them from the room. Without another word he left the house and mounted the horses standing ready. Megyn and Khalil lead the two pack animals. No one spoke as they charged through the streets and out of the city gate. They rode all night into the foothills until they reached a narrow pass guarded by a standing monolith of weathered stone. Green vines and fragrant white blossoms entwined it, though the ground was barren rock. The group went single file up into the pass until the land once more dipped into a sheltered valley. The journey ended in a glade shadowed by a few trees and cooled by a small flowing stream. He stopped the party in the shade and they hobbled the horses. Packs of food stuff were handed around and they ate quickly, stowing the remains in their saddle bags.
"Now comes the moment when your oath will be tested with more than the threat of death. All of you know why we have come."
With that statement Blayr reached into his saddle bags and removed links of thick metal chain. He went to Jas and stroked his cheek, kissed and nuzzled him.
"My own, are you sure?"
The sentinela pulled the prince into his arms and kissed him hard. So much so that blood began to run from his mouth, startling the Chosen. He released the prince before they could intervene. He lapped at the little cut and held out his hands.
"You must not fail and I would stop you if I could, the future be damned."
As the others watched in confusion Blayr cuffed and shackled his lover to another tree, binding him so the cat man could not reach the links to free himself. When they attempted to question him, the prince merely held up his hands for silence.
"Now prepare yourselves as you have agreed."
So saying he stripped off his clothes and the Chosen followed suit. Khalil went to sit near Jas, reaching out to pet the clearly agitated man. The group entered the water. submerged and then scrubbed themselves clean. They left the water and patted Blayr dry with white cloth and then dressed him in a white silk robe that tied at the waist with a white cord. Megyn and Rafe emptied one of the baskets and spread white bed linens on the grass and a pile of white cushions. Blayr anointed each of the Chosen on their forehead with fragrant oil. Then the five poured the oil in their hands and covered the prince in it. Strong hands massaged into his flesh and Blayr tossed back his head at the sensation. Samein stroked the long curls, massaged his shoulders, the others his arms and legs. It was Megan’s slim fingers stroking Blayr’s genitals that caused Jas to moan in anguish. He twisted and pulled on the cuffs desperate to get free and kill them for touching his guide. Khalil threw his arms around Jas and whispered in his ear.
"I asked Megyn to be sure she was the one. I love her Jas and she loves me. Neither one of us wish to take Blayr from you. Believe me, precious one, believe that he craves only your touch, wants only you."
Khalil continued to hold Jas close, whispering and stroking in an attempt to ease his torment. All the while Jas rubbed his wrists back and forth in the shackles, until the iron was coated in his blood.
The Chosen stepped away from the prince and arrayed themselves around the bedding.
"As you know the ritual of blood includes taking pleasure from the ones to be sacrificed. My...my father has always taken pride in the fact that none go to their death without screaming his name. Truth be known, a large part of what they feel is drug induced. He takes his pleasure and their lives. Today you believe I am here to do the same before you go to the altar. But I cannot forget the deaths I have seen, participated in...even as a child in my father’s arms. Do you know the first time I understood that the blade hurt, my father was teaching me the sword? I had a very small one of my own. He cut me to make me understand that I must parry and he cut me again to make me mad enough to strike. I did and he cut me again to show me that I would never be able to best him. From that day the cries of passion as the blade cut out their lives were an agony for me."
Blayr’s eyes filled with tears and he continued speaking with great difficulty.
"I will not...I cannot use you for my pleasure in the event that all I hope does not come to pass. I...I ask that in the light of the sun all of you take your pleasure from me this day. I will need your essence to strengthen me for what is to come. Please...do not deny me this. All our hopes depend on it."
Joel crossed to the prince and held the tear streaked face in his hands.
"Child, what of your soul?"
Blair glanced at Jas, writhing in Khalil’s arms.
"He understands, that is why he is chained. He told me that instinct would not allow him to disregard what I must do. Jas told me to use the chains. He would not be left behind."
The prince shuddered in Joel’s arms.
"I was not expecting to find my soul’s call so soon after... I thought this would be easier."
"Then we don’t do this," Samein grumbled. "I will not betray a fellow warrior in such a manner."
Jas’s voice boomed across the clearing.
"It is not betrayal...It is what must be. Quickly... please! Before I cannot stop from killing you." He threw himself against the chains. The Chosen watched as he extolled them to take his lover and at the same time snarled and slavered to kill them.
"We must not stop now. Hurry before Jas looses his mind!" Megyn snapped at the group. "Or do you want to end up as fodder for the Drinker of Blood and our world stay enslaved!"
This statement shored up the groups resolve.
Joel reached around and took the leather tie from Blayr’s hair. He spread the thick curls around the smaller man’s shoulders, covering him nearly to his waist. With shaky fingers the prince removed the cord and let the robe fall to the grass. He stepped gingerly onto the bedding and Megyn reached up and took his hand. He went to his knees before her and the dragon warrior took him into her arms.
Jas had bitten through his lip. Khalil took water and towels and cleaned the wounds as best he could. Across the clearing the other Chosen settled to the ground and Blayr disappeared amidst their bodies.
"Jas, Jas listen to me. Be with Blayr now. Do not allow him to hear your pain. It will destroy him. Here precious one hold to me and I will hold to you for Megyn lies with them."
Jas turned his head into Khalil’s shoulder and moaned. His body swung at the end of the chains exhausted from his struggles. The slave encircled Jas and hugged him close. He stroked down the muscled chest and eventually caressed the taunt nipples. Jas heard his lover groan and shuddered.
"Yes Jas, listen to him. Find his scent, taste your lover. Feel only him. Blayr loves you."
At that moment Blayr’s body was lifted high and he was lowered onto Samein’s hard shaft. His back arched. For a moment his face was a rictus of pain. He was suspended for a time then at his nod, finally lowered carefully. Megyn stroked his forehead and kissed his neck and shoulders. She reached around him and gently fingered his chest. A groan escaped his lips and Jas quivered as if he felt the pain of entry. Soon Blayr was moving over the chieftain’s body. Megyn continue the massage and showered his body with kisses. The men watched in fascinated horror as Blayr impaled himself again and again. All of Jas’s senses focused on his prince. He smelled the fear sweat change to the first hints of arousal. He heard the desperate pants and stifled moans when Blyar changed his position slightly and found his pleasure.
Samein’s fists crushed the linen. He was so close to completion all he wanted to do was slam into the body above him until the aching pleasure stopped. It had been a long time since he had lain with anyone. He did not trust the people of the court and he dared not endanger the women of Blayr’s household, knowing Buthus would surely take anyone he showed an interest in to the altars. For the first time in his life he was lying with a man and the pleasure was driving him wild. Blayr cried out and Samein reached for him, crushing the prince to his chest. He bellowed as the final ecstasy streaked through his body, rocking to and fro. Just as carefully Blayr was lifted from Samein, quickly wiped down and wrapped in a soft blanket. By consensus the men let him rest with Megyn. She gave him a tonic to restore his energy and crooned to him while Jas cried like a lost child in Khalil’s arms.
The sentinela’s body was sprinkled with his own essence and he could feel the slave’s hardness pressing into his side. Khalil did not dare release him knowing that the bond would be stressed four more times before the day ended. He managed to get Jas to drink some water and spread a blanket for them both.
Joel lay down behind Blayr, doing his best not to hurt the young man. The prince whispered to the shaman, easing the man’s guilt feelings, reminding him of their ultimate goal. At the moment of release, Joel buried his face in Blayr’s hair and moaned his name. Once again the prince was allowed to rest. Jas and Khalil were now wrapped around each other, lying on the ground. Jas could not get enough slack to get closer to the Chosen. He was emotionally and physically overwhelmed. He lay staring at the tableau in silence.
Harro and Rafe joined with the prince an hour apart from each other. Harro actually got the prince to chuckle weakly at an odd joke he whispered in his ear. Rafe was silent, using his hands and mouth to pleasure before slipping inside the sore trembling body. He shouted the name of one of Blayr’s household slaves when he came. Flushed scarlet he hid his face from everyone. The prince laughed quietly and ordered Rafe to tell the woman how he felt about her.
The men went to the water and bathed. They dressed then put fresh linen in place. Megyn fed the prince and let him sleep. When the sun moved directly overhead, Megyn lay propped against the pillows. Blayr washed in the stream again before he knelt beside her. He spoke of respect for her many gifts. He spoke of his love for Kahlil and thanked her for sharing so important a task with him. Although he was very tired, the prince did his best to pleasure her before settling between her thighs.
"I give you the fierceness of life, the fruit of the earth, the compassion of the healer and love for love’s sake. I give the soul of guide and guardian to be held until the moment of truth. I give you every hope and desire for freedom that still burns in the heart of our world o daughter of wisdom."
"I accept the task warrior. When you enter the darkness I will hold the light with my life."
"Thank you Megyn."
Blayr moved within her and soon, their bodies rocked in the rhythms of pro creation.
Jas was once again locked into his lover’s experience. He felt Khalil move against him and settled the other man between his thighs. Before long the slave moved over him in sync with the other couple. He felt Khalil’s rising passion as Megyn neared completion. His own lover was rushing to that moment. Megan and Khalil climaxed simultaneously, then Jas and Blayr. The four were insensible for hours. The remaining Chosen washed them and left them to sleep in the sun on fresh bedding. They took turns sleeping, watching over their friends until the sun began to set. Reluctantly, they bundled the foursome up and took them back to the city. It was not an easy journey. Samein carried the prince. It had ever been his place to protect the young man since that day in the pit. Joel carried Jas. Since he was a shaman and the gentlest of the group, they hoped Jas would not fight if he woke in his arms. Rafe carried Megyn. He always held her in highest regard. His mother still worshipped the ancient goddess and he believed Megyn embodied that spirit. Harro carried Khalil. He played chess now and found an audience for his strange sense of humor. Khalil was his friend. They cleared the mountain pass just as the sun disappeared. Dawn was creeping over the mountains when they finally arrived. Blayr roused himself just long enough to snarl at the gate keepers who barred their entrance.
When they arrived at the house the staff immediately put everyone to bed.
It was a week before Jas and the prince were seen beyond their room. The king had sent an inquiry when he found out about the strange hunting trip. Blayr assured him all would be well and the entire group would present themselves at court.
Recovered from their time in the mountain, the group was eager to display their finery and appease any suspicions the king might have. Blayr understood the courtiers need for excess and tonight he would cater to it.
He dressed each of the Chosen in clothing which would enrapture the syncophants.
The crystal moon court was indeed captivated.
The Tiger Clan wore crimson breast plates embossed with the tiger god. Images of the wolf were just below it as if a guard of honor. Small rubies encircled their wrists and neck linked by fine gold chain. The black leather of their sword belts and sandals were stitched with red silk, the wolf in pursuit. The short tunics were crimson as well, the finest silk Blayr could afford. The Snarling Wolf symbol glowed on their foreheads, red edged in gold.
Rafe was attired the same, except the wolf was the only image on his breast plate. He wore his sword strapped to his back, more comfortable pulling the weapon from that position. His brown hair was pulled back and braided with silk ribbon. He wore one earring, a single drop of ruby. Megyn was covered from neck to toe in red tinted scaled armor. Her hair was cut close to her head and a band of beaten gold with ruby stones encircled it. The snarling wolf was etched on her hands in red and gold. As the first day, she was empty handed.
The surprise was Khalil who walked before the prince linked at the wrist to Jas by thick iron chain. They were dressed in red gauze harem pants, with a rolled rope of black and red silk around their hips. The snarling wolf was emblazoned in black and red on their foreheads, tiny rubies for its eyes. Fine gold chain encircled their necks ending at the wrist of the prince. Painting highlighted the tattoos across Jas’s chest and arms. He wore an onyx jaguar in one ear and tiny links of gold chain connected it to the ruby in one nostril. His nails, fingers and toes, were buffed to a high gloss and tipped in red. His hair had been trimmed close to his head, more severe than Megyn’s look. He glared and growled at anyone moving too close to the prince. His light blue eyes glittered with malice.
Khalil wore no jewelry, unadorned for the first time in memory. His sensuality appeared more intense than ever before. He smoldered and captivated with sly glances, quiet smiles and movement calculated to expose his body a bit at a time. His dark mane flowed over his shoulders, a curtain that drove many to distraction. The prince was last. He wore only a loin cloth of red silk and a silk fur lined cloak trimmed in gold. His hair was brushed back behind his ears and his feet were bare. When the group reached the stairs, the Tiger Clan settled to their knees three steps away from the dais Blayr always occupied. Rafe settled on the next one up and Megyn walked forward until she went to her knees three steps below the king’s throne. Khalil and Jas followed, the cat man’s growl growing louder the closer they came to Buthus. Blayr stroked him and crooned a bit of the quelling spell and even Buthus admitted to some fascination with this strange creature. It was a pity Blayr needed it, Buthus would be very interested in finding out how much stamina it had.
The prince slipped the chains into Megyn’s hand. Khalil turned to Jas and between the two of them they kept the beast man calm while Blayr went to his father. The prince went to his knees and pressed his face to the floor at the king’s feet. The cloak spread across the white marble like spilled blood.
"Buthus, Drinker of Blood I come to you to give up my poor life in your service. I bring these pale offerings in hope you find them acceptable and will take them into yourself. Have pity on our wretched display and honor us with your acceptance."
"And Beauty would follow you to the altar
my son?"
The prince looked over his shoulder at Khalil and the slave
gifted him with a smile so full of love and devotion, even the
prince was momentarily stunned.
"Khalil has ever been my own father in all things."
Buthus stood. All were silent. He took his son’s hand and raised the prince to his feet. Looking out over the sea of pitiful sheep that he ruled, the king smiled.
"Let the will of the crystal prevail. Your gift is acceptable to your god."
Blayr let the tears flow freely and turned into his father’s embrace. His heart was breaking and he cried uncontrollable for a long time. Finally he raised his eyes to the king’s face.
"Remember me father. Remember that I loved you."
And Buthus cleaned his son’s face with the hem of the cloak he wore and kissed him on the mouth.
"I promise you unimaginable pleasure before the crystal takes you, my son. Now go child of prophecy and revel in this night. You are all I knew you would be. Remind your subjects why you are the Son of Buthus."
So Blayr was released and returned to take the chain from Megyn. When he stepped down to the couch, she stood behind it. Khalil lay at one end of the bed and Jas at the other. Blayr draped his body over them, giving up his will to their hands. He was surrounded by those who respected him and cradled by two who loved him. Tonight, he had given up all reason to believe he was more than a tool for his father’s ambitions. He needed to be comforted and made to forget. The Tiger Clan and Rafe turned to face the crowd. Their faces were grim and their intent clear, no one approached the prince unless they were willing to take a sword in the gut. It would be their pleasure to revenge the young man’s pain on the weak willed courtiers.
It was tradition on the night a sacrifice was accepted for the court to drown in excess. Platters of food and drink stacked the tables. Music clashed and more than one group of musicians played in the huge hall and on the balconies. The courtiers danced and sang freely, unfettered by custom for this night. Hours passed and drunkards staggered through the rooms. They vomited in flower stands and behind curtains, so they could return to the tables and drink more. Illicit couplings took place behind drapery or in the dark palace gardens. Courtiers with less inhibition and mesmerized by the dark lotus stick rolled around the floors in desperate couplings, unable to find completion from the unbearable need the dark smoke induced. Above it all sat the king, his eyes dark with lust and amusement at the court’s antics. In a day he would be presiding over the judgments for murder and adultery that would occur this night.
Blayr lay writhing in the arms of Khalil and the beast man. Enthralled a few of the courtiers watched from the floor below. The creature’s head was buried between Blayr’s thighs and the slave’s lips were pressed to his throat, his slender fingers plucking at the prince’s sensitive nipples. The dragon woman leaned over them whispering and stroking their bodies. She held Blayr’s face and kissed his lips. Blayr’s cry of release rang out halting all activity in the immediate area of the throne. In his life no one outside of his household ever heard the sound of his pleasure. If tonight, the wail was more that of a lost soul, everyone was too inebriated to notice. Buthus relaxed into the high back of his throne. He tossed aside the gold cloth that covered his lower body and stroked his hardness, eyes fixed on his son. Surprisingly it was the beast man who now straddled the prince, impaled on his member. The strange blue eyes stared upward and he roared when he came, covering Blayr with copious amounts of his essence. Khalil leaned in and licked both of their bodies clean, he was in turn kissed by the dragon worshiper. She came around the back of the couch and climbed on. The two of them settled the clinging pair into their bodies and caressed them as they slept. Buthus essence flowed over his hand, but if he was pleasured by his touch no twitch of muscle or change of expression betrayed him.
All the years of patience and planning would culminate in the ultimate attainment of power. The world would be crushed completely and Buthus would find other worlds to conquer. He turned his thoughts to other suns in other places which awaited his arrival. So the crystal had shown him and lead him to this moment.
The next morning the subdued entourage returned to their home. Blayr went below to the crystal room, remaining until late in the night.
Since a babe he had watched his father sacrifice five drugged people begging for Buthus to end their lives in a parody of loving devotion. He watched his father use them brutally until blood flowed on the altar.
At first, when knowledge left him no longer blind to reality, the prince thought that he could turn his father from the crystal. At the suggestion that he was so big and brave that he didn’t need it, Buthus laughed uproariously and hugged his child.
"I don’t need anything or anyone boy. This is want I want. You know nothing of desire foolish child. Even when you do it will not be a candle light to what this can give me."
His father caressed the jagged stones as if they were living flesh. When Blayr dared to protest his father slapped him to the stone floor and wiped his bloody hands on the crystal. He dragged Blayr away to punish him for insolence.
His mother was a story told to him by Jae, but after that day sometimes he thought he saw her in the crystal depths smiling in sympathy at his pain. It eased his spirit and drew him back to the stone. Even when the horrors in the room haunted his dreams.
Now he sought his mother’s spirit for comfort and the blankness of mind that some how gave him strength to continue on his quest.
Jas sat before the secret panel, his head cradled on his knees. Blayr would not come out and he was not to go in. The sentinela waited, his expression the mirror of his saddened lover.
Khalil came and checked on him periodically, bringing food water and pats to the shoulder. Deep in the night when the moon was hidden, Blayr came up to find Jas waiting. The cat man gathered up his tired charge and put him to bed. For the next few days Blayr’s companions roused only to eat. Slaves went throughout the city settling all debt the prince owed. Eventually he opened the house to visitors. Merchants, noblemen, farmers and beggars enjoyed imported wines, well cooked meals and conversation. Those few who enjoyed his favor over the years were especially feted.
Iniko sat at the table scattered with silver coins he should be counting to pay his men. His gray eyes could not focus. Prince Blayr decided that all of his household must die first so a palace on the shores of death’s river would be waiting his arrival. Samein told the captain that all of the guard must be attired in appropriate garments for sacrifice. Buthus would be pleased and that would make the prince happy. Shock held the captain’s tongue. This was what came from letting the prince consort with slaves and prisoners of war. Where else had he gotten such heathen ideas? Samein and his men had long departed before the man could control his limbs enough to open one of the bundles of clothing the slaves had carried in. He could not quite surpress a cry of dismay when the crimson silk spilled across the floor.
The captain had been humiliated by the Snarling Wolf’s disregard for his own safety. No one acknowledged the latest event which left them all insensible while the sneaking brat took off to parts unknown. The slaves were beyond punishment and he could not go to Buthus. The prince saved his men with the tale he commanded the captain to stand down. Iniko hated him. To be assigned to guard the young demon was not a badge of distinction. Many before him lost their reason or died in battle against worthless bandits. What honor was there in that? His lieutenants were reporting. Their laughter and coarse voices were immediately hushed when they realized what he held.
It was a subdued, frightened contingent of the guard that waited to escort a messenger to the king. The enormity of the prince’s desire weakened their legs. Their muscles twitched and shuddered where the new clothing caressed the body. The slaves of the house went about their business with joyful mien saying how pleased they were to join their beloved Blayr in death. It was ridiculous, impossible! But here they were dressed in red silk edged with gold and the chariot they must escort was draped in the same. Impossible, just impossible!
Samein and his clansmen left the house in their crimson armor sans the rubies and paint. A diminutive female walked among them and was lifted into Blayr’s chariot. The escort surrounded the Chosen and their messenger doing their best to look brave.
Arriving at the palace the group was shown to the gardens where Buthus swam in one of the deeper pools. The king rose from the water, his presence nearly overwhelming some of the guardsman who had never been this close to him.
"What do you here, Chosen?"
"The prince sent us to escort this one with a message for you."
The small figure stepped forward and dropped the shawl that covered her features. She was a child after all, with dark brown skin, cinnamon curls streaked with gold and bright almost hazel eyes. Buthus was surprised at her appearance, but none watching would have guessed. She knealt down and spoke, her head lowered as was proper.
"O King, the Snarling Wolf has given the order none of his household will survive his exit from this world.
He dedicates our blood to your service lord. He hopes this final action will let all know the esteem he has for you."
All stood waiting for the king’s response. The guard had faint hope the king would call a halt to the plan. Everyone knew how much spilling blood gratified their god.
"What are you called slave?"
"I am Kichi. It is said the prince plucked me from the side of a road and decided to keep me."
"And you believe this tale?"
The slave giggled and risked a glance into the king’s face.
"It matters little what is true. I am a slave to serve my prince."
"And if the prince was your father?"
Kichi fell over with mirth. Samein feared the out come of this little adventure. Kichi’s life could easily be forfeit if Buthus took offense.
"It does not matter who made me. I am yours for the sacrifice. The prince said so."
"How old are you Kichi?"
"Jae says I have seen a dozen hazy seasons."
"What if I say you must remain here in the palace and not return to the prince."
Kichi stiffened and looked at the king with wide frightened eyes.
"I am Chosen, the prince said so! What have I done? How have I displeased you? Why am I unworthy? The Snarling One will be angry and punish me."
Her eyes filled with tears and she began to wail.
Buthus lifted the little girl to her feet then picked her up, sitting her on his shoulders.
"Return to my son. Say this one will be spared from sacrifice. Tell him I will keep her ever at my side and love her as I do him. Hush child, I will keep you and make you a princess."
Kichi was looking down at Buthus with stunned fascination. She was sitting on the shoulders of her god! A princess, the king never had a princess before. Everybody knew that. She scrubbed her face with the shawl and gave Samein a wobbly smile from her perch.
The Tiger clansman looked very unhappy. This was not expected and Blayr would be upset knowing the child must live in this monster’s hands. He turned and walked away, the guard falling into formation behind him. He looked back once and saw Buthus take Kichi into the garden. May the Tiger eat his entrails for eternity if she came to harm.
The next day the household staff fed the guard, cleaning up with unusual diligence. The usually friendly slaves worked silently, eyes downcast. No amount of cajoling or intimidation would make them speak. When the end day feeding was ignored the captain was angry yet disturbed by the odd silence of the premises. Gradually curiosity won out and a couple of the men went to the kitchens. Slaves sat at the trestle tables, dressed in crimson and unmoving. When their fear was pushed back enough, the men entered the room and discovered that the bodies were lifeless. A thorough search found bodies in every room but not the prince and the Chosen. A healer was summoned, quickly diagnosing poison as the reason for death. Just before Iniko sent a message to the palace, Blayr appeared from a side passage in one of the hallways. He was pale as if already dead and dressed in white silks. He stroked the captain’s face with a distracted air, telling him to send someone to the palace with the news that the garrison and slaves were dead and the Snarling Wolf and his Chosen waited only the king’s arrival. The captain quickly complied, for just a moment considering not returning to the house of death. By taking the message himself he would live. Oh-yes, until Buthus dragged him to the altar.
Defeated by his own sense of duty Iniko pressed silver coin in the palm of the first passerby and walked with dragging steps back to the garrison. He could not believe the sight when he stepped through the gate. The guards were not at their posts. The bodies sat beside the door, eyes already wide and dulled by death. He ran through the house and into the gardens, in defiance of what he already knew. Some foul magic killed his men in the time it took him to run to the end of the street. They lay on the back patio, in a parody of formation on the drill yard and in the barracks. Everywhere not one faint pulse or blush of life remained. He staggered into his office grabbing the battered cup he always used. He gulped the scant remains of water and refilled the cup from the barrel by the door. Soon Buthus would come. It must be left to him to greet the king. Perhaps the Drinker of Blood would end his life quickly. To face death upon the altar turned his guts to water.
He witnessed the sacrifices in the public temple. The screams of the terrified falling on uncaring ears. Once in the palace, he heard the other cries, the ones of pleasure beyond bearing coming from the kings quarters. The voices of his Chosen raised in praise and entreaty. Others spoke of them with envy. But what pleasure could be worth going to your death like stupid sheep?
"Iniko?"
He nearly collapsed before turning to the sound of that voice. The prince stood there beckoning him to follow. The man looked like a corpse already, even paler than before. But Iniko must obey. To attempt an escape would mark him a coward, to be hunted no matter where he went. He could not imagine what horrors he would endure if he was captured.
He shuffled at the heels of this man whose power as second only to Buthus was now reduced to nothing. Into a dark gap they went and down numerous steps into what seemed the bowels of the earth. All Iniko could hear was the pounding of his own heart. Sweat dripped into his eyes and squelched in his sandals. Just when he thought he would faint there was open space. Smoky torches lent sporadic light around him. He didn’t understand at first just standing where the prince placed him trying to catch a breath. Then he realized what was before him.
A niche in the rocky floor contained a great chunk of clear crystal, its ragged points reaching higher than he could see into the ceiling. It seemed to pulse with a pale radiance. The jaguar lay among the shards, its blood flowing down to puddle around Blayr’s Chosen. They were on their knees around the stone, nude and without weapons. The strange beast man and Khalil stood before them removing the garments from Blayr. Then the three went to their knees before a marble slab wide enough to support a body for sacrifice. A silver cup studded with rubies sat atop it. At that point the tableau held until Iniko wished even the king would arrive just so the suspense would end.
The prince was crooning softly. Soon the song resounded in the cavern rising and falling in a strange mix of mourning and joy.
"I have not heard that song since your mother sang it to you in the womb."
Iniko nearly fainted. Buthus stood in the shadows. He stepped into the torch light, towering larger than the captain could remember. Muscles rippled and bunched like live creatures over his body. Iniko went to his knees terror making him gasp for every breath.
"How do you know it?"
"Within the crystal my mother’s spirit calls to me."
"How is this my son?"
Hearing the song was unexpected. Buthus would understand before he drank from them.
"I do not know father. I only await your pleasure."
Ever alert, the king noticed the feline corpse. A closer look at Blayr made him aware of the faint streaks of blood marring the young man’s chest.
Buthus stepped closer, aware that all but Blayr seemed in the trance state induced by the wine on the altar.
"Have you drank from the cup?"
"No father. I would come to you as I am. I would know the pleasures I would know the pain. I give myself willingly. Drink from this cup o king. Drink."
"And these?" He gestured to the people on their knees.
"Chosen by me...for you."
"I would have the chieftain first and spill his blood upon the altar."
"It will be as you desire father."
Blayr went to Samein, leaned to kiss him then raised him up. He led the big man to the cold marble and helped him to sit upon it. He kissed him deeply and guided him down. The clansman never looked away from Blayr, his eyes glazed with drugs and need.
"He is yours my son. Take your pleasure first." Buthus assessed his child’s willingness to comply with cautious gaze. Was it all not just a little too perfect?
"As you wish."
The prince climbed over the body, easily spreading the heavy thighs to slip between them. Samein moaned until his eyes fell again on Blayr. The prince pushed deeply into the man’s body, which arched and twisted. Blayr’s head fell back as the sensation of being held in that virgin passage overwhelmed him. He was pounding into the body seemingly lost to lust when Buthus mounted the slab and crushed him onto Samein’s body. There was a fierce burning then tearing. The Drinker of Blood was driving into the body compressed beneath him. There was no way to fight, not even to breath. Buthus grabbed the dark warrior’s face and crushed his lips beneath a kiss. Blayr was buried deep inside Samein and impaled beyond anything he ever conceived of.
Darkness crawled from the perimeters of the room. A deeper shadow flowed over the obscene trio. Buthus roared. Pale bodies swarmed around and over him. Inoki dug his fists into his eyes and blinked in confusion. The others, the others were dragging Buthus from the prince. Then darkness smothered them all.
Buthus enraged howl had been the only sound. Inoki could see nothing now, but the struggle could be heard across the length of the floor. Darkness fought to hold the demon in captivity. Sudden torch light pushed back the darkness in the chamber. Peering between his fingers Inoki would not believe his eyes. Could this be a nightmare? To usurp Buthus his son was now in league with the dead. What horrible magic was this? How did dead slaves fight to subdue the king? Iniko’s poor brain seized at the notion. The prince was more powerful, a sorcerer! Was it not better to die than have a land ruled by demons?
Buthus continued to struggle but for every one he tossed aside, another took their place. The dead bound his wrists, arms, ankles and thighs with thick bands of metal. As quickly as they appeared, they vanished into the dark. Buthus was left swaying before the crystal straining to break his bonds. Blayr spoke from the shadows.
"I know you think this is a coup father. Your son taking what you have fought so long for. But you are wrong."
The king screamed behind a gag.
Blayr stepped into the light, his face ravaged by pain and exhaustion.
"I told you the beast must come. I told you it would be the end of all things. You were warned Drinker of Blood. You were warned long ago when you first dreamed of power and murdered those who could tell of your beginning. You were warned the first time you looked into the crystal, before you smuggled it back to the city to sink its poisoned roots deep into the earth. You defied your dreams and sought my mother believing her another conduit for the power you craved. How could you refuse the true knowledge? She was another path to your end."
The beast man stepped forward and gently wrapped his arm around the prince. He supported him as they walked between the smaller quartz points. He lay down and Blayr went to his knees beside him. Then one by one the Chosen and Khalil positioned themselves as a barrier between the couple and the king.
The Chosen were not unscathed. Blood flowed from bruised faces and torn limbs. But their eyes never faltered from the swaying body before them.
The prince began to sing and the voices of the dead joined him until the crystal rang. Abruptly the prince fell silent. His hands ceased their restless movement over the body of the now insensible beast man.
Buthus cursed throwing himself at the crystal. The Chosen dragged him back and the darkness once again smothered him. After much struggle he was dragged to the altar and pinioned to it. Now chains looped through his shackles and wrapped around the rings imbedded in the stone. He howled and raged. His muscles straining beyond belief to break his bonds. Suddenly the dragon woman rose from the floor and approached the crystal. She held a mallet in her fist and as she circled the edifice she tapped it against the crystal. As each note was struck the crystal rang and the beast man cried out and twisted on the jagged stones. But still she paced and struck until the cries of the beast man were unbearable to hear. Then she struck and there was only silence. The prince began a new song, his singular voice raspy and tired. After a while it gained in volume and the verses were repeated over and over. Soon the dead and the Chosen raised their voices. Iniko was compelled to join. It was a song of freedom and release from tyranny, but the captain could not see how a song could save them.
It was a long time before he realized the crystal was humming, a deep sound that he felt within his own body and in the floor beneath his knees. The sensation grew until his body shook and his ears ached. Buthus yelled again and although muffled by the gag, the sound was clearly heard over the ringing cave. His body jerked and twisted until one of the rings imbedded in the altar actually tore loose and clattered to the floor. He threw himself from the altar but only succeeded in hanging from it by his legs and one arm.
Dust replaced the air, inhibiting Iniko’s breath. Tiny shards of crystal and weathered rock fell to the floor. Then one voice, high and piercing rose above the others. The note was pure and went up the scale to an unbelievable level. Iniko clapped his hands over his ears in a futile attempt to save his hearing. From the shadows came Kichi, her slim arms held away from her body as it strained to hold that singular note. The humming of the crystal became a whine. Then, a shriek and the crystal split. The sudden flurry of movement went unnoticed by the captain of the guard now insensible on the stone. His body was lifted and air displaced the thick cloud of dust when the singers and torch bearers rushed from the cavern. Still Iniko held the note. The Chosen lifted Jas and hurried him into the dark. Only Blayr and the child remained before Buthus. The two halves of crystal swayed apart, a groan like dying rising from deep within it. Kichi collapsed against the prince. Both of them supporting the other.
"I will leave you father with that which you removed from its confinement. Both of you will be buried here forever. The lands will be forever stained and none shall come here again."
Buthus howled with rage, but his struggles did not free him. His son, his traitorous seed disappeared into the shadows supported by a wisp of a child.
A deeper shadow rose up from the interior of the shattered stone. Blind with blood lust, the king did not notice its straight forward passage across the cracked floor until it flowed over his head. His scream of denial was choked back by the slick substance pouring into his gaping mouth. His eyes, nose and ears bled a black greasy smoking oil which adhered to his skin. His body wrenched free of the confining chains, only to roil in agony, burning minutely from the inside out.
He was unaware of the cavern giving way as a true earthquake racked the city. The earth split swallowing Buthus and his dreams.
Two days later, the inhabitants of the city were still picking though the rubble for what they could salvage. The palace and the temple of the moon were shattered and many had died attempting to loot the wreckage. The palace guard and many of the courtier’s soldiers were killed in the quake or at the hands of rebels. No one survived who could explain how the heavily armed rabble got within the palace. But the occupants had been killed to the last. Slaves and servants fled with what they could carry as the walls crumbled. Priestess and the keepers of the temple were slaughtered at the hands of avenging family or later killed in the quake if they managed to hide. Buthus was no more and after the terror of death by blade and gaping earth, his son could not be located. No one ruled and no one would. It was discovered rather quickly that the ground water was virulent and the earth corrupt. Plants, even the oldest trees, withered or were covered with poisonous mold over night. Smoke blackened the sky and denied breath. To remain with the confines of the capital was a death sentence. By the third day each hour saw conditions worsen and the determined looters began to die vomiting and choking on poison fumes seeping from the cracked earth. The seat of the king’s dream was now a huge pit of seemingly volcanic matter and the rot was spreading. Eventually the radius of destruction would slow and finally halt nearly three hundred miles from the cracked crystal’s original setting.
There were those warned prior to these events and they had fled, their possessions leaving the city very slowly over a span of months or years. They told the tale as did the ones who survived, scarred and traumatized by what they had witnessed.
Minions of the king found insurrection spread as surely as the foul pestilence that destroyed the home land. Some managed to hold on to a few of the far flung territories. Others died fleeing avengers or by their own hand.
Supporters of Blayr were at a loss. The prince still could not be found. Some say he died on the altar and his death brought Buthus to destruction. Others say he fled and the king destroyed everything in rage, his dark powers turning against him and the city in the end. As with all things legends grew around the tainted lands until the tales left the faintest of truths far behind.