Date: Tue, 23 Feb 1999 05:57:55 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Sheik of Desire, Chapter 4

			SHEIK OF DESIRE, CHAPTER 4
			    THE KNIVES OF PEACE

     "Jezreel!" Pavel called when he exited the small tent.  Suddenly he
felt the way he had when he was two and had been taken for the first time
to the Indian village and had gotten lost for a brief period; very young,
very small, very alone, and surrounded by strangers.  Where was Jezreel?
And where the fuck were the Connobarans, he hadn't seen them since they
arrived here!  "Commander Sachsen!"
     "Pavel!" came the response.  Commander Sachsen was walking his way and
Pavel was never gladder to see him.
     "Where's Jethro?" he asked suddenly.
     "In that tent back there, being watched by a couple of the natives."
Commander Sachsen said.  "He's still asleep but appears to be coming
around.  I was looking for you and Jezreel."
     "Good.  Have you seen Jezreel?"
     "No, you're the first one found."
     "I've got a little problem here and I need Jezreel's advice." Pavel
said.
     Jassem had walked up behind.  "A problem?" He inquired gently.
     Pavel turned and smiled.  "Not that kind of problem.  I need to ask
him a question about your culture before I make a mistake.  Please, I don't
want to upset you."
     "You cannot upset me." Jassem said.  "If I am not to be your husband,
I will be your servant, which is all you agreed to.  But I cannot be blamed
for hoping."
     "Of course not." Pavel said.  "Our people simply don't get married
that quickly."
     Commander Sachsen, who had overheard much of Pavel's and Jezreel's
conversation aboard the turtle bower, smiled and cocked an eyebrow.
     "Well, we don't!" Pavel protested.  "I've known Jezreel for...for a
while."
     "You and I will be together for a while." Jassem agreed.  "After our
marriage, I will show you the place of children."
     A-yi-yi-yi-yi! Pavel thought to himself.  "Is there no other way to
see this place?" He asked.
     "Not for a single man such as you or myself." Jassem agreed.  "Only
those with the bond of marriage may enter the Mosque at New Medina."
     "Where is New Medina?" Commander Sachsen asked.
     "But a day's journey in that direction." Jassem pointed.  "Near the
mountain with the two points on top of it."
     "Back towards the way we came." Commander Sachsen noted.
"Interesting."
     "Yes." Jassem said.  "You are from the land of the rising sun and
through the waters of the rising sun do our children come to us.  You must
live in a land blessed by Allah."
     "It's a nice place." Pavel agreed.  "Still, I'd like to speak with
Jezreel.  Do you know which of your kinfolk went with him, and where?"
     "I have to get back to Jethro.  I don't want him waking up among
strangers.  When a Connobaran comes out of that stupor, he doesn't remember
anything that happened during it.  It's why I insisted on bringing him
along with us."
     "You go back to your guard, and I will find Jezreel for you." Jassem
promised.  "He went with my cousin Aziz."
     Reassured somewhat, Pavel went with Sachsen (Connobarans had no last
name, only a first which was different for each Connobaran, as no name
could be used again until its prior owner was dead--the reason that Sachsen
and Jethro bore such uncommon names) to a bigger tent.  Inside, Jethro was
lying on a pallet of soft cushions (they seemed to be favored by this
people and were the sole item of furniture, Pavel noticed), with two young
men beside him and an older, gray-haired one observing with a air of
authority.  "He is about to awake." this man said.  "Notice his turgidity."
     Jethro's cock was indeed tenting up his gray trousers, and Jethro was
making thrusting motions.
     "He is behaving the same as one who has been heavily marked by knives
of peace." the man said.
     "Knives of peace?" Sachsen asked.  "What are those, doctor?"
     The doctor pulled a knife from his sash.  "It is like these.  The
blade you will notice is very narrow and kept from going deep by the guard
above it.  Small holes let the fluid stored inside the blade's body seep
out.  One does not stab with the knife of peace, one slashes and the fluid
does the rest.  It is the blessing of Allah, for now our men do not need to
kill in battle."
     Sachsen reached out and the doctor jerked the knife back.  "Ah, do not
touch the blade.  Even a small amount is enough to drive you into the
depths of your spirit."
     "It is like the pepper pods we used during the war." Pavel said.
"Concentrated passion."
     "Yes." the doctor agreed.  "Distilled from plants found here and
there.  Allah's messenger warned us when we arrived that killing was
forbidden, and gave us the knife of peace so that we may honor our old
ways."
     "Stepwith." Sachsen said, awed.  "He was here, too."'
     "Of course." Pavel said.
     "The knife of peace and the waters of life were his gifts to us, his
children." the doctor said, enraptured.  "And we have been blessed with
these gifts ever since."
     Jethro groaned and the doctor jerked about.  "My students, you must
tend to this man in his hour of need."
     "We obey." One of the young men said and reached for Jethro's fly.
His fingers fumbled with the unfamiliar buttons and he stopped puzzled.
"How do these open?" he asked.
     "Like this." Sachsen knelt down and unbuttoned Jethro's fly.  Jethro's
familiar cock sprang out as he freed it from the binding cloth.  "What are
you going to do?"
     "He must be drained of the passion within." the man explained.
     Pavel watched, unsurprised, as the young medical student, a man barely
into his manhood, began to flog Jethro's cock.  His dark hand on Jethro's
almost-pinkish cock was a beautiful combination of colors against Jethro's
light-gray uniform.  Jethro groaned, still in a stupor but conscious at
least, and the young man knelt down lower and grabbed Jethro's cock with
both hands and began to pound him even harder.
     "Let me do that." Sachsen said.  "He's a Connobaran, not a piece of
meat.  He needs special attention."
     Pavel knew the Connobarans' special way of making love, so he wasn't
surprised when the Connobaran officer, resplendent in his quasi-Nazi
uniform, leaned over and engulfed Jethro's cock and, burying it deep inside
his mouth, held it there.  Jethro groaned and bucked lustily, and Pavel
knew that Sachsen's talented mouth muscles were milking Jethro's cock in a
way that no regular human could ever quite match.  Pavel had experienced
that mode of making love before, those special muscles quivered and
pulsated against your cock in a rapid motion, drawing your foreskin up and
down with a speed even your hand could not match, and with a velvety, moist
feel like you were speed-fucking a lubricated ass.  It was a feeling you
could never match with anyone else, or even duplicate yourself, it had to
come to you as the gift of a Connobaran lover.  So Pavel watched as the two
gray-clad soldiers loved in this way, and Jethro groaned loudly and Sachsen
choked, but held firmly to him, and Jethro bucked, his black boots found
purchase around Sachsen's waist and held him there, and soon Jethro was
quiescent again.
     "Excellent." the doctor murmured when they were done.  "He is nearly
done.  He will sleep but a short period now, only a few minutes, and then
he will rouse once again, and should regain total consciousness then."
     "Good." Sachsen stood up and wiped at his lips with the back of his
hand, swallowed visibly.  "It'll be good to have my man back with me
again."
     "Pavel!" came the call from outside.  It was Jassem's voice.
     Pavel stepped outside the tent.  "Yes?"
     "Your advisor and Aziz are both gone.  Their tent is empty." Jassem
said.  "I must warn my father."
     "What's wrong?" Pavel asked.
     "Later, please!" Jassem begged him.
     "Go." Pavel said.  Jassem's worried urgency was apparent.
     Pavel stepped back into the tent.  The men were talking among
themselves in fluid Arabic syllables.  "What is wrong?" he asked.
     One of the young medical students explained.  "Aziz is of the tribe of
Mahmoud bin-Hadid.  Rashid is his uncle, but his other, and first, father
is of the tribe of Mahmoud.  Two seasons ago, he came to live with us.
There is trouble between our two tribes.  If he has taken away your friend,
then he can only be going to rejoin Mahmoud."
     "What's the problem with the tribe of Mahmoud?" Sachsen asked, sensing
the danger.
     "Mahmoud wishes to become sultan, with his tribe to control access to
the mosque at New Medina." Jassem said.  "Who controls New Medina controls
our people, through the waters of life, which brings us children."
     "So he may attack?"
     "Yes." Jassem said.
     "But what would he gain from attacking your tribe?" Commander Sachsen
asked.
     "He has Jezreel.  Now he needs you." Jassem said.  "You, your fellow
guard here, and most importantly, Pavel."
     "Me?" Pavel asked.  "Why me?"
     The young man appeared surprised.  "You are the prince from the Land
of the Rising Sun, young and not yet married.  The one who marries you will
form a lasting bond with your tribe."
     "But we don't choose such things that way!" Pavel objected.
     "Your father will choose to deal with the tribe where you live, will
he not?" the man retorted.  "Even if he deals with all of us, he will come
first to the tribe where you live, in hopes of making your life better,
richer, will he not?"
     "I guess.  But...." Pavel was foundering.  "What if I don't want to
get married?"
     The young man looked at him.  "I do not think Mahmoud will ask you
what you want.  He will simply take you.  Once you are with his child, your
wishes will not matter.  Even Rashid will not deny your marriage when that
happens."
     A horn sounded.  The doctor, who had been examining Jethro, rose to
his feet from his cross-legged position, easily and adroitly.  "There will
be a battle.  We must go help.  Please, stay back here, out of the way.
You cannot be warriors in this battle since you are the treasure they seek.
Stay here, Prince of the Rising Sun, with your guard.  Here."  The doctor
handed Commander Sachsen the "knife of peace."  "Use this on the enemies of
your prince."
     And they were left alone in the tent.
     "I'll stand guard at the door." Sachsen said grimly, hoisting the
knife.  "You be ready to help Jethro when he comes around."
     Pavel waited a short time, listening to the shouts and cries, and
clashes of steel, and odd drumming sounds coming in bursts.  Finally, he
could bear it no longer; he got up and poked his head out of the tent.
     The place was a morass of small battles.  Here, to men were fighting,
one on foot, the other a-saddle on an odd beast.  A beautiful white color,
it stood on slender legs that rose its body barrel up to the height of a
man's waist, and the top of its body barrel was the height of a man's head.
From there, a slender neck graceful and sleek, to a head that was
long-muzzled.  It was a horse!  Pavel had seen them only in pictures, and
here they were, strong, white and brown and black horses all around him,
making that drumming sound he had heard with their hooves as the moved!
But they were the weapons of the enemy, holding them up above their
defenders, who were thus at a disadvantage.
     Pavel watched as the two men wielded their knives and warded off the
same with a small circular guard held in the left hand.  Only about six
inches in diameter, it was too small to be called a shield, but it
performed the same function.  Pavel saw the men fighting, saw the blades
strike, the man on the ground getting cut on his arm below the shield,
while he landed a similar blow on the man's leg.
     The knives of peace then showed their power; the men stopped their
battle, and the man astride the horse slid off and the two former enemies
were now engaged in a lustful embrace, fighting their clothing aside to
bare their bodies; kisses replaced the shouts of fury.  Soon they were
locked in a new battle, the man who had been on horseback was now ridden by
the man on the ground, who was fucking him hard and fast.
     Such scenes played out all around them, Pavel saw.  But the force
which was attacking seemed to be gaining on them.
     Jethro groaned and Pavel moved inside again, quickly.  Jethro's cock
had never been put back inside his trousers, and it rose up again, a pink
cobra begging for the chance to strike.  Pavel couldn't give it the
attention Commander Sachsen could, but he stuffed the thick prod into his
mouth and sucked on it.  God, get Jethro off and get him up, they had to
get out of this place!  There was a horse just a few steps away; Pavel knew
how to ride it (in theory, anyway, he had heard many stories about it from
a neighbor who had ridden often in childhood and had talked about it at
length with Pavel while showing him the pictures), if he could get Jethro
off, he could get them away!  He wasn't going to be shanghaied into a
marriage with some man he hadn't even seen, he had to go rescue Jezreel!
     He slurped on Jethro's pud, and Jethro groaned, babbling to him.
"Yeah, baby, that's good, that's nice, do it, baby, do it."  Pavel had
never heard Jethro talk like that before, he must be all right.
     Pavel forced his body into rapid motion, shutting out as well as he
could the distractions of men shouting in fury, and groaning in lust.
Those heavy black boots came to rest on Pavel's back and Jethro was fucking
at his face now, Jethro's hands grabbed his head and forced him into
action.
     "Come on, suck on it, suck on it!" Jethro begged while Pavel bobbed
his head frantically.  Jethro meant the Connobaran way of sucking, which
Pavel couldn't give him.  Jethro groaned in frustration, fucked his face
harder, faster, then he rolled them over so that Pavel was on his back and
Jethro's legs were pinned under his shoulders, and Jethro still held onto
Pavel's head, holding him up and force-fucking his mouth.  Pavel choked on
the long dong, held on, and Jethro groaned, blasted another hearty wad into
Pavel's mouth, while he held Pavel's face stock against his crotch,
shooting his load right into Pavel's throat.
     Done, Jethro panted a time and then looked down.  "Who are you?
     "Glmph!" Pavel said.
     "Oh." Jethro let him go.  "What are we doing here?  Where am I?"
     "No time for that." Pavel said desperately.  "Commander Sachsen, he's
awake!"
     "Commander?" Jethro turned, disoriented, found the tent flap and ran
out, hands fumbling at his fly as he tucked his cock back inside.
     Pavel got to his feet, head reeling from the rough face-fuck, and went
outside as well.  Jethro was standing there in stunned amazement.
     Commander Sachsen was not very far away, two men were fighting with
him at once.  Sachsen had the knife which he was wielding expertly, and he
had found a long stick which he used to block the stabs of the two men
opposing him.
     Sachsen looked over his shoulder briefly, saw them, grinned and turned
back to face his foe.
     "Jethro!  Get him out of here!"
     Pavel looked, and saw that the tribe of Rashid was in full flight now,
those who weren't fucking their brains out or lying on the ground.  Nearby
was the white stallion that Pavel had seen before, the first horse he had
ever seen in the flesh, its owner insensible beneath his antagonist who was
similarly incapacitated.
     "This way, Jethro!" Pavel said.
     "What?" Jethro said.
     "No time, Jethro!  Come on, you heard your commanding officer!"
     That did it, thank God Pavel had remembered Sachsen was Jethro's
commander from the time before Jethro had fallen victim to the pepper pods.
Jethro had Sachsen's order to "get him out of here" so he followed Pavel to
the horse.
     "What is this thing?"
     "A way out of here!" Pavel said.  "Get on!"  Pavel fumbled with the
odd rigging on the horse.  There had to be a way up onto the horse!  He
looked down, saw a loop dangling at the bottom of the rigging.  A foothold!
He stuck his foot into it, and clambered atop the horse.  It nickered,
backed away, but Pavel was desperate and he managed to get seated in the
saddle.  Once he was aboard, the horse quieted, somehow reassured by his
posture.  "Get on!" Pavel said, offering a hand up to Jethro.
     Jethro mimicked Pavel, and nearly pulled Pavel out of his seat, but
got aboard and was sitting behind Pavel.
     "Hang on!" Pavel said.  "This is going to be rough!"  And he dug his
feet into the horse's flanks and yelled, "Giddyap!"
     And the horse moved so fast that Pavel nearly lost his seating again,
and Jethro nearly slid off the side.  They held on somehow, and the horse
was moving.  Awkwardly, totally without grace, they fled from the battle
and to their good fortune, none of their assailants had seen them go.  They
rode back towards the mountains beyond which lay their home while behind
them, the battle wound down with pairings of lustful, groaning men, and
others cursing as they searched for their prey that had eluded them.

			    END OF CHAPTER FOUR