Date: Tue, 19 Jul 2011 18:54:34 -0400
From: M Patroclus <thephallocrat@gmail.com>
Subject: The Exile, Chapter 19

THE EXILE
A Gay Fantasy Experiment

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Even in my dreams I could smell the smoke and ashes from the temple, the
aroma infiltrating my sleep like a thief and tinting everything with a
shade of loss and sorrow. There were an endless string of images, all
incomprehensible and meaningless. A few times, I think, I awoke and was
aware of people around me, but these brief moments of consciousness
themselves faded back into the endless dream. In this world of sleep, I was
visited often by familiar faces: pleasant ones like Pasha and Stepan,
strange ones like Errold and his dead companion Bert, and terrifying ones
like the Archbishop and Queen Valessa. I even had a vision of my father
with my mother (her face a blur since I never knew it) smiling at his
side. Last came Alek, who spoke so sincerely of his love for me and me
alone that I at once realized I was dreaming. After that, it was easy to
wake.

I lay naked under a thick blanket in a room lit only by sunlight creeping
through cracks in the wall and around a door. I was drenched in a cold
sweat that was slowly drying, and I felt very thirsty. I remember thinking
there was something familiar about the room itself, and then realizing with
no small surprise that it was my own. I was sleeping in the very bed that
had been mine since I was a child. I was pondering this, trying to gather
the strength to rise, when Damon came. He looked weak but triumphant,
smiling with an arrogance that turned my stomach. He did not say a word,
but pulled back my blanket and revealed my naked body.

He took what he wanted, and I no longer had power to tell him no. My body
reacted against my will. I entered him. I fed him. I had no choice; he was
my master, and I his servant. I poured myself into him in a continuous flow
of energy and then, suddenly, the flow reversed and I felt him rushing into
me, filling every corner of my body.

I gasped and suddenly awoke again. The room was dark and silent as before,
and there was no sign of Damon at all. My heart was thundering, and I was
trying to determine if it had only been a dream when the door crept open
and gradually illuminated my surroundings. A slim figure tiptoed into the
room, carrying a small bowl with a washcloth which I could see clearly as
he settled himself on a stool next to my bed. He gently dipped the cloth in
the bowl and then wrung it out, and I heard the soft sound of splashing
water. Then the figure began to gentle wipe the cool, moist cloth across my
brow.

This was welcome and soothing, seeming to wipe away the oppressive heat of
my dream of Damon. "Thank you," I murmured.

The figure jumped and nearly dropped the bowl of water clumsily. "You're
awake!" Pasha sputtered, placing a hand on my chest as I tried to sit
up. "No, no. Don't move yet. I'll get Jelena to come look at you."

I was not thrilled at the prospect of seeing her, so instead I said,
"Wait. Stay with me a moment." It was difficult to speak, for my lips were
dry and my tongue slow. Pasha stared wide eyed at me a moment, then without
a word went back to cleaning the sweat off my forehead with the damp cloth.

"I'm very thirsty," I said, looking desperately at the bowl in his
hands. He saw where I was looking and let me take a swallow by holding the
rim to my lips and tilting gently. I was touched by his tenderness. "Have
you tended to me like this often?" I asked, wiping my mouth.

Spots of crimson appeared on his freckled cheeks. "We all did. Took turns
checking on you, I mean." He looked away. "I came as often as they'd let
me, though."

"How long has it been?"

"A couple days," Pasha said. "The fighting seems to be done now."

"Fighting?" I struggled to piece together what had happened, but I was
still lost in confusion and I was not sure I knew what he was talking
about. For a moment I felt dizzy and thought I might lose consciousness
again.

"I really should get Jelena," Pasha said, biting his lower lip, "She said
to come tell her at once if you woke and you really don't look well."

"I want water and perhaps a little food, is all," I said, but the boy was
already up and heading out the door. He paused for a moment, just long
enough to turn and smile shyly at me, then was gone. I chuckled despite
myself at this. I had seen Pasha commit acts of debauchery beyond anything
I could have previously imagined, and yet still I found him charmingly
childish and almost innocent. My affection for him was genuine and deeper
than I thought, though I certainly knew what he felt for me was something
greater than mere affection. And yet the thought of his love for me no
longer seemed an annoyance, as it once had. Instead, I was thankful for it,
appreciating his attention even if I was uncertain I could ever return it.

When Jelena came, she did not come alone. Alek and Shara were by her side,
and I could make out Pasha lingering behind them. Behind him, though, the
doorway was suddenly dwarfed by the unmistakable shape of Golmeir. All
looked pleased to see me awake except perhaps Jelena, who wore her best
professional face as she lay her hand across my forehead and then held two
fingers against my neck to feel my pulse.

"What's happened?" I asked abruptly. "What did I miss?"

Alek, looking so happy and handsome it nearly made me dizzy yet again, came
to sit on the foot of my bed. "Do you remember anything?" he asked.

"The temple burned," I said in response.

"There was a great commotion," Alek explained, "You were wounded."

I nodded, remembering. "I fought with Jacek."

Shara clicked her tongue. "I thought as much, but we weren't sure," she
said. "He's nowhere to be found now. Left with the others, most likely."
Her face was pale, and her look full of concern for me. I gave her a weak
smile to show her I was alright.

"We saw the smoke and heard the noise of fighting," Alek continued, "Then
we couldn't find you at camp and that caused a panic. So we all came
charging into the village to rescue you."

"Fortunately for you," Jelena added tonelessly. She pulled back the blanket
far enough to reveal my wound, cleaned and bandaged.

"Fortunately for all of us," Shara said, glowering at Jelena with obvious
distaste. "Those of us who believed in you were fighting those that didn't,
and our side needed help. Your people made the difference, especially the
giants."

I nodded to Golmeir who returned the gesture affectionately without saying
a word.

Jelena removed the bandages gently and inspected the skin
beneath. "Remarkable," she murmurred, "Your wound has healed faster and
cleaner than expected. It's almost miraculous."

Alek grinned and squeezed my foot through the blanket. "Markis is tougher
than he looks." His face beamed with relief, and I (always a mirror to him)
returned the expression. "And," he added, winking at Jelena, "He had a good
medician."

The light in my face went out as quickly as it had appeared.

She did not acknowledge the compliment. "The wound was serious," Jelena
said, mouth pursed in concentration, "When I first examined you I thought
it likely you would die."

Alek stood up suddenly, his demeanor changed. "You didn't tell me that!"

She took a step toward him and put a hand on his chest. "I didn't want to
worry you. I wasn't sure."

Shara pushed herself through the couple and came to my side. "Markis is not
like other men. He is the Sha'Eluid. He has great power."

I knew at once that my speedy recovery had little to do with being the son
of power awaited by my people. This was Damon's work, and I felt a sour
distaste in my mouth at the realization that he had saved me once again. I
did not want to feel like I owed him anything. I tried to push thoughts of
him away, but I could feel that he was near. He was in the room, listening
to our every word and waiting for his opportunity to be alone with me
again. It was a struggle to ignore the feeling of him in the back of my
mind, a struggle I was losing.

"What of my father?" I said, trying to focus my thoughts elsewhere.

Jelena turned to face me, pulling a loose strand of her hair back into
place. "He is stable, for the moment. I have done what I can for him."

"Thank you." The words were more difficult to say than I expected, and I
think that was clear from my voice. I could not look at her, but I saw her
nod out of the corner of my eye. "What of the rest of our people?" This was
directed at Shara, who knelt down next to my bed to look me in the eyes.

"We stand behind you," she said, but I could tell that it was not the whole
truth. She took a breath and said, "Some have fled - they refused to
recognize you as the one awaited. I'm certain now Jacek has gone with
them."

"How many?"

"Of the ones who opposed you, only a few remain. Many perished on both
sides."

"How many...?" I asked again.

She bit her lip in hesitation, but could not lie to me. "Between the deaths
and the desertions, those among us of fighting age are reduced by
half. Perhaps slightly less."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I remember the pounding of my blood at
my temple and how my mouth grew dryer than before, which I would have
thought was impossible. So many of my people dead, and because of me. I had
expected no less, but it was still not easy to hear of it.

Shara no doubt knew what I was thinking. She leaned in to grasp my
arm. "The rest of us await your orders. We mourn our lost brothers and
sisters, but this was all foretold. We know you to be the one, and we are
yours to command." It was meant to be reassuring, no doubt, but it only
added another great weight of responsibility to my shoulders.

I tried to sit up, only to be overwhelmed by a wave of protestation from
everyone present. I shook my head, annoyed. "I cannot lie here when there
is much to be done. My people need me!"

"They need you to rest," Jelena said crisply. "You'll be no kind of leader
if you don't recover fully."

"I am fine," I insisted. Jelena threw an exasperated look at Alek. So did
the others - all of them looking at my friend and expecting him to reason
with me where they could not.

"Please, Markis," he said, stroking my arm. His touch was somehow both
calming and electric.  "Just one more night. You're healing well, you heard
Jelena say so. Just rest here one more night, just to make sure. Tomorrow
we'll face what we must."

I could not say no to him, and he knew it. They all knew it. For a moment I
felt resentment that they would use this weakness against me, but at last I
relented, too weary to argue further. Another night of rest it would be. I
sighed and relaxed back against my pillow.

"I shall tell the others you are not to be disturbed," Shara said, "But
tomorrow they will want to hear you speak. They will want to know what is
in store for us."

As do I, I thought, sighing. Shara kissed my forehead and left the room
silently. At her exit, I was suddenly reminded again of Damon, for I could
still feel his presence. It grew stronger as fewer people were around. I
was gripped with a panic at the thought that, once they were all gone, he
would come for me again. I found it more difficult to breathe.

"I'd like water and maybe something to eat," I managed to say.

Jelena nodded and headed to the door, "I'll arrange to have them brought to
you," she said.

"Perhaps Alek can bring them," I suggested, trying not to sound
desperate. "It would be nice to have some company for a while."

Alek had a conflicted look on his face, then looked at his new lover. "I'm
helping Jelena tend to those wounded in the battle," he said, "My place is
really with them. I'll come to visit you in the morning though, I
promise. We'll catch up then." He searched my face, wanting a sign of
approval.

I tried to give it to him, mustering a weak smile and a nod that was likely
unconvincing. They left together, Jelena slipping an arm through Alek's,
and I tried not to feel bitter. I tried to remember my vision in the
mountain tomb and the peaceful feeling of completeness that it had
brought. I tried to cling to my new wisdom of how all was connected, how
all beings were one, how nothing was ever truly lost. My pain was too
great, and I was too weary. The wisdom and peace I had gained in the tomb
seemed very far away. Damon's presence grew stronger, on the other hand,
and I found my anxiety growing with it.

"Golmeir," I said eagerly, for the giant still loomed near the doorway "You
will stay with me for a while, won't you? I would rest better knowing you
were here."

The giant bowed apologetically. "I cannot, friend," he rumbled, "Word has
come from my father, Chief of our Clan. He summons me home, with Talmeir. I
am to be judged. I must leave at once, almost this very moment. I will set
one of my brethren to guard you as I have done."

I stared at him in shock. "So the other giants are staying?"

"The few who now accompany you will remain, for now," he said, "Until the
headfather should decide otherwise." There was tightness in his voice, and
for the first time I considered what going home would mean for my friend.

"Are you in danger?" I asked, sitting up again.

The giant was silent a moment, and I again studied his handsome features
and wondered that I had ever found him ugly. His silent rumination made him
seem noble and wise, but his brow was furrowed slightly with worry. "I do
not know," he said at last, "But I believe when I tell all that I have seen
and done, my honor may be restored. You had the courage to return home to
face your people's judgment and risk their ire... I can do the
same. Perhaps I can be redeemed...our Clan knows forgiveness."

"You deserve it," I said sadly. "I shall miss you, friend." It was true. I
had come to think of the giant as a true and comforting companion. I could
not imagine facing the coming trials without him. "Hurry back."

He stepped forward to lay his massive hand atop my head in a gesture almost
like a benediction, smiling. "Be well, Markis. We shall meet again soon."
And he turned and lumbered out of the room. As his large shape disappeared,
I nearly cried out in distress at being left alone... except I soon
realized I was not.

He had been standing near the corner timidly all that time, and only
stepped forward when I turned and noticed him. He smiled and nodded to me
and turned to go with obvious reluctance, thinking no doubt that he would
not be wanted.

"Pasha," I said his name softly. He turned. "I... I find I cannot bear the
thought of being alone tonight. Will you stay? Please?"

His face radiated with pleasure. "I'm here for you," he said, "I always
am."

"I know," I said, and moved to make room for him in the bed. He slipped in
beside me and held me so tightly I could almost ignore the dark presence of
Damon which seemed to inhabit the corners of the room, held at bay by the
attention of my companion.

He correctly judged my need and made no move to kiss me or to touch my
nakedness. Instead, he spoke without needing me to say much in return,
talking of Stepan his adopted father and of their bond that was slowly
redeveloping since their reunion. He talked of happy memories, and of
beautiful, trifling things that made me smile and even chuckle now and
then. He did not speak of wars, of responsibilities, of destiny or of
leadership. I found I loved him for this most of all. I pulled him closer
and kissed his cheek gently.

At last I slept, and when I awoke he was beside me still, an arm across my
chest, his nose grinding gently into my shoulder. I felt his breath on my
skin and smiled.
_________________________________________________________________________

The next few days are largely a blur. I was allowed to rise and visit with
my father and those of my people who had taken my part. They were shaken
from the recent conflict - never in our long history had we fought with one
another. Many had now shed the blood of those they once called friends and
brothers, and they would bear the scars of that for the rest of their
lives. My heart broke for them, for I knew too well what they felt. Jacek
who I had loved was out there somewhere, gravely wounded and likely
seriously disfigured because of me. I shared in my people's sorrow and
mourned with them, speaking with compassion and understanding as best as I
could. It seemed to help, somewhat.

As for my father, he seemed little improved to my eyes and was able to
speak to me but very little. Jelena, however, remained optimistic so I
allowed myself to hope I would not lose him soon. When he felt up to it, he
too spoke to the people about the importance of our task at hand and his
words carried even more weight than my own.

There were preparations made for our journey north - unconvincing and
half-hearted preparations since little was known of our next step. There
was no word from Cedrik, Gavril, or Burgess or of their respective cities
where we had sent them to investigate.  My informal council met often to
debate in heated tones about how we should proceed, but to little
result. One one thing we all agreed: there was not enough information on
what was going on out amongst the three great cities, and until we heard
from those we had sent there was little that could be done.

In the meantime, we trained. We learned from one another. The people of my
tribe were reluctant to share our ancient secrets of combat, but my father
and I persuaded them this was the very purpose for which our tribe had been
founded. Soon all my other soldiers, including the giants, were studying
the techniques of the Taluid. In the process, we were becoming more like
one unified army than just a collection of separate forces. Even the
Veruvians and the Tharonites were working well together. My warriors were
good, certainly, but I began to worry if they were good enough for the
struggles that lay ahead. This worry crept into my head and would not let
me relax even for a moment.

It was difficult to rest, though Jelena insisted that sleep was vital to
ensure I made a full recovery. When sleep would not come, however, I spent
my time reading the record of Alander that I had recovered from the
tomb. It was lengthy, and the writing faded or damaged in places, so I made
little progress. In other places, my knowledge of the Sacred Tongue proved
inadequate to accurately translate the text. In this regard, Stepan's
knowledge proved invaluable, and if there was anybody as excited by the
discovery of the scroll as I was, it was the old Tharonite. Together we
spent many hours decoding difficult portions of the work. What I read of my
predecessor and his life and adventures was encouraging, even illuminating
in many places. It would take a lifetime to absorb all the wisdom that he
had set down, and I began to feel as though the ancient scroll was the true
treasure I had been meant to discover, the crown a mere trifle in
comparison.

Still, there was some slight awkwardness between Stepan and I. At my
request, Pasha stayed with me each night as my bedfellow, though I still
did not take him as a lover. Whatever his foster father's opinions were of
this new relationship between his son and I, he did not share them. And yet
I know he struggled to accept it, as no doubt my own father would if he had
not been too ill to take notice. Once, and only once, I had attempted to
bring up the matter by way of assuring Stepan that nothing inappropriate
was taking place between Pasha and I - nothing, certainly, like the rites
of the Veruvians which Stepan, as a Tharonite, had opposed so thoroughly.

"There is no need," he had cut me off swiftly, "Pavel is a grown man now,
and can make his own choices. It is none of my affair." His demeanor was
stiff and formal, completely unlike his normal excitable nature, and he
quickly changed the subject back to Alander's history.

I had sought to clear the air, but instead had only made matters more
difficult between us. It did not change the fact, however, that Pasha and I
were growing closer. I found that while I could not bring myself to seek
pleasure in his body, his presence cheered me and kept Damon and my
loneliness away. I cared for him, and deeply, but could not entirely remove
other thoughts from my mind. I kept hoping that Alek would come to visit
with me, as he promised, and longed to spend even a few moments in his
company, talking. I would have rejoiced at any interaction, no matter how
simple, but he seemed to deliberately be keeping his distance. At last,
frustrated and desperate for just a few moments with my friend, I
confronted him after a council meeting.

"I thought you would not want me hanging about," he said in answer to my
somewhat accusatory question, "I thought it best to give you space."

I shook my head, stunned. "How you could possibly think that?"

"I wanted to make it easier," he said lamely, "Besides, you have another
now... do you not?"

I honestly did not have any idea what he was talking about, and he had to
hint a little further before I realized he was referring to Pasha. "It
isn't like that," I protested.

"He shares your bed," Alek pointed out.

"As a friend, not a lover," I said, realizing that the distinction did not
sound convincing, "Only because the alternative is to be alone."

"Don't misunderstand me," he replied, raising his hands defensively, "I
think it is good... it is very good for you to have a... a friend to rely
on. There is a lot depending on you, and you need someone like that who can
always be there when you need him. I..." He took a deep breath. "I can't be
that for you as I once was."

"You don't have to say anything about it." I turned away. "We've already
said all there is to say."

"Then we'll say it again," he insisted, "Please. You must understand that
my feelings for you are unchanged from what they were. You are my dearest
friend, closer to me than even my own brother. If... other parts of our
relationship have changed, that at least has not. I'm still here for you,
Markis. You can trust me completely. I hope you know that."

It was difficult to know what to say to that, and when I returned only
silence he left to seek out Jelena. A cloud of darkness settled upon
me. That night I could not bring myself to find joy in Pasha's company, and
I asked him as kindly as possible to leave me alone for the night. He left
without protestation.

As soon as he was gone, Damon came for me. I had expected this, and it was
with only a little surprise that I felt myself surrender to him completely.
_________________________________________________________________________

The next morning the knock on my door proved to be Alek. I was groggy and
drained from my long night with Damon, not to mention quite conflicted
about the man in front of me, so I could not at first understand what he
said to me and had to ask him to repeat it.

"Cedrik has arrived," he said again, voice eager with excitement, "And
Markis... he's not alone."

Somehow, I knew at once what he meant. I quickly dressed and followed him
downstairs where the others were all waiting: Shara, Jelena, Pasha and
Stepan, along with representatives from the Broxbourneans, the Veruvians,
and the giants. Among them, though, were two newcomers with the evidence of
hard travel about them. Cedrik was much the same as he had left us, if
somewhat stronger and healthier than I was used to seeing him. His
resemblance to Alek seemed almost cruel to me now, a reflection of agony
doubling my torment. Then, too, I was suddenly struck by the realization
that I had at one point or another pleasured both brothers and so served as
an awkward link between them. Of course, in Cedrik's case the act had been
done at a king's command to prove myself and for Alek it had been done only
at the command of my own heart - a sovereign more tyrannical with orders
more cruel and arbitrary than King Valen.

The very man who stood before me now.

"Markis," he said, nodding to me respectfully. He wore simple clothes and a
long cloak with a hood that was currently down. This garb was no doubt
meant to hide his identity on his journey from the city and yet in my
opinion such a disguise was useless. Anybody with eyes could tell he was a
king. "It's good to see you again," he continued.

"A strange thing to say," I replied coolly, "Considering the last time we
met I was your prisoner." Alek stood silently by my side in support. This
was a grudge we had both been bearing.

"It gave me no pleasure, I assure you," Valen replied in a tone that
matched my own. His eyes narrowed as he considered me. Once I had thought
him my senior in age, rank, and wisdom. The first to show me compassion
since my exile, he had won my admiration almost immediately and filled me
with a desire to win his. Now my feelings were decidedly more mixed. "The
situation left me with little choice."

"The great good demanded," I said. I knew him well enough to know that to
his mind the end justified all means. Queen Valessa had had much to say
about her brother's methods. Admittedly, she was perhaps not the most
reliable source of information but if even half of what she had said was
true than Valen was not, in my opinion, the honorable king worthy of my
admiration that I had once taken him for.

"It always does," he returned. "Besides, everything turned out alright in
the end, did it not? You escape saved your life and that of your friend,
while buying me time in the negotiations with my dear wife. We both
profited - very fortunate, indeed! Almost as if it were the plan all
along..." He trailed off meaningfully and smiled broadly, hoping to break
the tension.

I wanted to be angry, but there was too much sense in his words. "The
escape did seem a little too easy," I admitted.

"Do you really think the upper room of an inn is the best prison I could
manage? I am not a fool." The grin again. Everybody in the room was looking
at me, trying to judge my reaction so that they could determine their own
feelings about this man. I had no doubt that were I in the mood to seek
vengeance from Valen, my followers in the room would help me claim it, king
or no. I had to choose my words carefully. Resentful as I was against him,
it would not due for this meeting to descend so quickly into violence.

"The Queen knows you to be no fool as well," I said, "I suppose she found
your attempt to capture us less convincing than we did."

"To be sure, but in the eyes of the people I seemed to be in agreement with
her and she could hardly call me out. At the very least, it made it a
little more difficult for her to challenge me openly for a time. A
temporary delay, I'm afraid."

Here Cedrik spoke for the first time, speaking as much to his brother as to
me. "Our worst fears have come to pass. The Queen has mobilized her forces
against us, and Fermanagh is at war with itself. Men and women fight in the
streets, soldiers against amazarii, and even the common people are in
thrown into chaos. It is madness."

Valen took over the story. "Troops arrived from Broxbourne as we feared. We
hoped the amazarii would balk at the assistance of male allies, but the
Archbishop was shrewd. He has only a few women in his armies, to be sure,
but from these he chose the commanders and officers of the force that came
to Fermanagh. United with the amazarii, my men had little chance. Many were
killed, and we only just escaped with our lives."

My council took this news in with somber faces, and I could almost see
their minds furiously at work on the implications.

"Have you no forces left?" Alek asked, disbelieving.

"What few men were not killed have fled and scattered, as I have," the King
replied, "The Queen has sole possession of the city now, and has declared
herself sole sovereign."

"Sad news," Stepan said, stroking his beard, "And of great interest to our
cause, if not entirely in the way you expect, Your Grace. With the
Archbishop's attention diverted to Fermanagh, it is the perfect time to
strike at him directly. I say we march north at once."

"And leave Fermanagh in ruins?" Cedrik exclaimed, "You can't be serious!
Markis, you must aid us."

"Valessa is a threat to you until she has been brought to heel," Valen
added, "Pass by the city and leave her in control, and you will have an
enemy at your back all the way to Broxbourne."

"We do not have numbers to reclaim the city," one of the Broxbournean
soldiers pointed out.

"Then you do not have the numbers to face the Archbishop," Cedrik snapped,
"Why then would you deliver yourselves to him before you are ready?"

"In Broxbourne we have allies who await our coming," the soldier said,
"They will abandon the Archbishop when they see the crown of Alander,
flocking to our banners. We will divide the enemy's power into two in one
swift stroke. Divided, they cannot stand against us."

His words struck me with a thought, a sudden, dangerous, and possibly quite
insane thought. I turned my back to everybody else and rubbed my temple,
praying silently that this was truly sound strategy and that I was not
simply going mad. I felt their eyes on my back and the room fell quiet.

"Markis," Pasha said, stepping closer to me, "Are you alright?" I nodded at
him distractedly.

Alek stepped close to me and leaned in conspiratorially. For once I was too
distracted to grow dizzy at his closeness. "What should we do?" he asked,
his voice low.

"Do you feel lucky?" I asked him in return. He could only blink at that. "I
remember when your luck at dice won us all the gold we needed for our trip
to Carmathen," I explained, "We will need such fortune again, I'm
afraid. The dice I mean to throw are much less forgiving than those you
played with then."

"You have a plan," he said.

"Something like that." I took a breath and turned to face the others. "We
must stop Valessa. Remember, our task is not simply to stop the Archbishop
but to bring peace to all the lands. The King is right, anyway. We ignore
this problem at our own peril. We will head to Fermanagh at once."

Cedrik gasped with relief but Valen merely nodded, his face a mask. Stepan
looked as though he might argue, but thought better of it. Nobody voiced
complaint. My mind was clearly made up.

"It has been said that we do not have enough strength to oppose the Queen's
forces." I continued. "I disagree. With the addition of the giants and the
remnants of my tribe, the forces we have assembled here may be small in
number but are more than a match for an enemy twice our size. We could win,
but not quickly - and speed is of the essence. Once our march to Broxbourne
begins, it must move fast and with no delays. We seek to build momentum
amongst the people of the lands, to wash over them like a wave that gathers
strength as it goes, and so we must always be in forward motion. If we are
to take Fermanagh quickly, we must have allies within the city itself."

They said nothing, so I gathered my thoughts and continued. "To that end, I
must send a small group ahead to the city on a mission to prepare the
way. One of you will lead this mission. Our army here must train and
prepare itself quickly and then mobilize for the march north. If all goes
as planned, by the time we reach Fermanagh much of our work will have been
done for us."

"Who will you send for this task?" Valen asked, with an eyebrow raised.

Several people stood forward at once to volunteer, including (to my great
surprise and dismay) Pasha. He said nothing, however, while many of the
others shouted out pleas to be the one to represent my cause, boasting of
their prowress. I caught his eye and shook my head slightly, forcing him to
blush and step back sheepishly.

"Send me," Cedrik said when the others had quieted, "I know the city
well. More importantly, I know the politics. I know the men of my city, I
know how they think. Those who remain in Fermanagh will be treated as
little better than slaves. They will want to fight back, and I swear to you
that every one of them will stand up to fight for you when you arrive to
face Valessa."

I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook my head again. "You
misunderstand me," I said, echoing words he spoken to me once long before,
"You misunderstand my purpose entirely. Your knowledge of the city will be
put to good use, but you cannot be my representative. There is one person
here, and one alone, who I can entrust with the mission I have in
mind... That is, of course, if she will accept."

I turned suddenly to Shara, once my bride, who had said nothing through the
whole meeting. Every eye turned with me, and when she realized they were
all looking at her she took a step back in surprise. She looked at me then,
the shock and confusion plain on her face -- but then a heartbeat later her
eyebrows shot up with understanding.  Her jaw tensed, her eyes flashed with
fire, and I knew she would not refuse.

**********************************

Heaven help me, I will finish this story one day. Feel free to send me
encouragement or questions at thephallocrat@gmail.com