Date: Tue, 13 Apr 1999 18:41:28 PDT From: Guy Trache Subject: The Knight and the Thief - Part 2 The Knight and the Thief - Part 2 By Pfantazm ~~~ Author's Note: What follows is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual events, places, persons or horses, living, dead or other, is, quite frankly, too bizarre to even think about. I wasn't sure this needed to be said, but since I just checked, and my e-mail address wasn't on the last story, I'll say it anyway: I'd love it if you'd tell me what you thought of this story or the last one. My e-mail address is pfantazm@hotmail.com . ~~~ Thom awoke earlier than Madoc the next morning. They had slept next to each other on a bed of grass by their fire. Thom looked at his captor closely once more. Madoc's hair drooped over his forehead at the front, but was clipped close to the skull at the back. It was a strange, but attractive, style. Thom knew that the sleeping knight's eyes were a brilliant sapphire blue, worthy of a thief's attentions. His face was once more relaxed. He was grinning faintly again. Why did the knight only show this emotion while dormant? When he was awake Sir Madoc always kept his face fixed, rigid with determination, and this hardness detracted from the beauty of his features. Thom had come to know the man fairly well by now, he thought. He had seen past the guarded exterior briefly, and found he genuinely liked the man inside. He was sorry that his crimes as the Dark Rogue had led them to meet like this. He was not as sorry for the deception he was putting over on Sir Madoc. Thom quietly got up and crept over by the stream. He sought a private place in the reeds to do his business. The nearest one, alas, was a little more than twenty feet away. As such, he felt somewhat queasy because of the ring that Madoc wore which ensured that Thom would not attempt any escapes. But this he must do. He removed a long, thin, metal tube from his backside. His secret weapon. It had saved him from permanent imprisonment a number of times. He cleaned it carefully, set it aside, and relieved himself. He quickly replaced the tube and returned to the camp. It took some time to recover from the upset stomach. Soon Madoc awoke and they broke their fast. They then looked over the list of ingredients that wizard Eleazar had set out for them to recover. <> Three horsephlox blooms grown in obsidian soil <> A blue spritestone <> A silvered glass <> One specimen of green sea fungus <> Three bats' wings <> One pound of sawgrass pods "I wonder why none of the others Eleazar sent after these ever returned with even one of the items?" Thom mused. "Perhaps one of the items is particularly hard to find or in a hazardous place. We'll know soon enough. We should bring back each item as we recover it." Madoc turned to look Thom in the eyes. He couldn't help wondering how someone like him could take up thieving. Or how he became so good at it. However, it was not his place to ask Thom to tell the tale. Should he ever volunteer it, though, Madoc would listen with interest. Thom nodded back, his hazel eyes smiling. "What should we try to get next?" "On my way to Karelia to track you, I passed a sawgrass field. It should be no problem to gather a pound of the pods." Thom stood. "Alright. Let's be off." The two went to work cleaning the campsite. As Thom packed away Madoc's meagre cooking supplies, he asked, "What's your horse's name?" "Fleetfire," Madoc replied. "He's a war horse." "Fleetfire," Thom repeated, tasting the name, as he took the supplies to the horse. "He's very intelligent," Madoc continued. "I'm sure he knows just what it is that I do." Thom chuckled at the thought. "And he knows just what it is that you do." Thom stopped. He looked at the horse, who had turned to look at him as if to say, And what do you want, little man? "Don't fill both of our sacks, Thom. We need one to carry the pods." "Right," Thom answered as he retreated from the animal. "It's alright," Madoc assured him. "He won't attack you unless you threaten him. Horses are prey animals, not predators." For once, the guardsman was showing some amusement in his face. This made Thom feel much better. Shortly thereafter, the knight and the thief were on the road once more. Travel was more uncertain because of the need to hold onto more of their belongings by hand. Madoc's hands were occupied controlling Fleetfire, so the task fell to Thom. When Thom pointed out that he needn't carry their belongings on the way *to* the field, Madoc argued that this stop might be the one that had caused the downfall of the previous questors, and Thom had best practice and find some way to carry everything without dropping any of it. On the way there they could go back and pick things up, but since Thom still needed Madoc's help mounting Fleetfire, it might be too much trouble on the way back, especially in a hurry. Thom conceded and formed the opinion that sometimes Madoc talked too much. Thom was still growing accustomed to riding for days. His legs were still sore for hours after they would stop. He was fit, and he had almost always walked from place to place while he was a thief at large, but as a prisoner his punishment came early. He was being bounced and jostled on the bare back of the steed. Madoc had a saddle for Fleetfire, but he had abandoned it for both the horse's and Thom's comfort. As such, Thom sat pressed up against Madoc's back, gripping him around his chest. This meant the knight found himself being stabbed in the back for most of their rides, although the thief had lost his dagger a few days ago. Madoc had accepted this fact cheerfully since their experiences beneath the sea. They arrived in the field in the early evening and wasted no time starting to gather pods. The plants grew tall, almost to shoulder height for the two men. The stalks of the sawgrass (which, of course, were called blades) had a serrated edge to them, but since they weren't sharp they posed no danger. The two men had to stoop to collect the pods, which grew near the ground. Fleetfire could only see the heads of the humans pop up and disappear occasionally while he munched on the pods himself. Thom had the sack, and Madoc had been adding his part whenever the pods, which were small and light, filled his hands. He raised the sack and called out, "This looks to be about a pound, what do you think?" When he got no answer, he shouted, "Sir Madoc?" He heard Fleetfire whinny excitedly and saw two men jump up to grab the horse. Suddenly, two sets of hands gripped Thom at the arms below the shoulders. And now Madoc surfaced, a knife at his throat and two more men at his back. "Don't you be makin' no moves now over there," said the man with the knife, who had to be the leader, "or we'll be slitting your friend's throat." The man looked to be about 45, had greying brown hair and a curly, unruly beard. He was dressed in black, as were the others. He was missing one of his teeth. "Don't kill him," Thom called back, "but I'll have you know he's no friend of mine." Madoc's face still showed little emotion, but Thom could tell he was afraid for his life. "I know who *he* is," the leader said. "He wears the symbol of the King's High Guard. Who are you, if not his friend?" "I am the Dark Rogue," he answered simply. Five brigands laughed at his claim. The leader just said, "Prove it." Thom raised his left arm. It contained a gold amulet on a string. "Does this belong to anyone?" he asked wryly. The ruffian on his left snatched the amulet and put it back in his pocket. "Rolf, how was he?" "Didn't feel a thing, Kraid." Both Thom and Madoc reacted to that name. To Madoc, Kraid's marauders were the most hated band of cutthroats in the land. Many of the High Guard had died at their hands. To Thom, they were thieves with a reputation that rivalled his own, but Thom could not condone their style. Speaking frankly, they gave thieves a bad name. "Good," Kraid said. "It looks like we arrived in good time for you. But you said not to kill the king's pet pig. Why not?" Rolf and his companion had released Thom. "The ring he wears. It binds me to him. I must stay within twenty feet of him," he said sourly. Kraid examined the ring and barked with laughter. "This is a dog trainer's ring!" He tried to remove it and found that he couldn't. "Only he can take it off. According to the wizard who gave it to him, you can't even cut it off, not even at the arm. I've got to stay with him until he decides to release me." "Come here then." Thom walked over to Kraid and Madoc. "We can just do it ourselves." Kraid grabbed the hand with the ring. Thom rolled his eyes and presented his own hand palm down. "If it works, the stone will turn from blue to red, but it won't..." he said as the leader of the Marauders pressed the stone to Thom's hand. The stone stayed blue. "It's like I said. He has to *want* to release me, and he won't. And I'll be damned if I have to lug his ugly carcass around the rest of my life." "Well, dark Rogue, if you're to be joining us, we'll just have to take him along. *Convince* him." The Marauders all laughed heartily. "Let's go. We can lock the pig in the shack for now." He looked to his right-hand man, a burly brute. "You can keep yourself amused. We celebrate our newest Marauder tonight! Addax, Benet, bring the horse!" When the two thieves tried to subdue the horse, Fleetfire kicked and bit at them. "Steady!" Madoc called. "Steady, boy. It's alright." The horse stopped attacking, but still reared his head belligerently while it was led from the meadow. Madoc wondered how long he'd be allowed to live all the while he was marched to the Marauder camp. * * * The sun had completely set when they got to the camp. The brute pushed Sir Madoc into a shack, the only truly built structure there and followed him in. The Marauder clearly had a smile on his face. Thom turned away from the shack when Kraid spoke. "Welcome to our home among the tries, Rogue!" Kraid raised his arms expansively, showing off his part of the forest. Thom stared at Kraid's chest. Something in his shirt was glowing blue. "Ah," Kraid said, "I'll wager you'll be wanting to see this." He took a blue stone out of his shirt and lifted the thong it was attached to over his head. He passed the spritestone over to Thom. The stone had a small point of light inside it that drifted around. If Thom were to break the stone, he would find one piece would not glow at all, and the other would be dimmer. The stone was magical; there was no way to explain the light. "Perdy, isn't it?" Kraid asked. "Very," Thom said. He handed the stone back and Kraid hung it from his neck once more. There was already a fire burning in the clearing where the Marauders had made camp. Many tree stumps were around, several around the fire that were carefully stripped of all splinters. They were dug out to serve as chairs. The trees that had once stood near the fire were propped up against each other or trees that were still standing; these were covered with oilcloth tarps to make crude tents. Out of the woods there came a man who also wore black. It seemed to be a requirement. He had short red hair and green eyes. He looked to be in his early thirties, and he carried a number of skinned animals strung up. "I got us our dinner, Kraid. Who's this?" "This here's the Dark Rogue, and he'll be joining our merry little band." The newcomer looked impressed. "The rumors about him being captured in Karelia were true. We got the pig what nabbed him in the shack." Thom noticed that Kraid still hadn't asked him if he wanted to join the Marauders, but he didn't bring the subject up either. "Good. There should be enough for one more," the man said amiably. He transferred the animals to his left hand and extended his right. "I'm Lennox." They shook hands. "Fine, Lenny," Kraid said. The redhead's smile failed a little at the nickname. "Just you get along cookin' them up." Lennox went over to one of the tents to ready the pot. "Lenny there ain't much of a thief, but he takes care of this place okay. He's alright." Thom got the impression that Kraid needed to explain Lennox's presence, if only to convince himself. Thom surreptitiously watched the shack whenever he thought he could without getting caught. That other Marauder hadn't come back out yet. He looked up through the trees. Clouds were covering the stars. Tonight would not be a pleasant night. The Marauder didn't leave the shack until dinner was cooked. He came over and sat by the fire close by Kraid's side. He was a big brute, the tallest man there. He had a carefully tended beard, black hair and cruel dark eyes. He bit into his squirrel hungrily. (Lennox had had to tell them what they were eating.) Over the course of the evening Thom learned that the man's name was Damon. After supper, a beer keg was tapped and Kraid and the others began to swap stories of their many successes. Thom had contributed his own tales early on, but no one seemed very interested in his thefts, craftily constructed and skillfully executed. No one, that is, except Lennox. One of the others would interrupt him soon enough and tell one of their own war stories. This was an accurate name for them; they rarely consisted of anything more than bloody accounts of raids on villages, attacks on convoys with the misfortune to pass their way, raping and pillaging for whatever they could carry and destroying everything they couldn't. They all sounded the same to him Lennox also seemed quite bored. He wondered about that one. He must be a thief to be in this group. Was he merely a novice, or was he a craftsman like himself? He'd have to find out. Eventually, Thom gave up trying to contribute to the revelry. He just nursed his beer and let the others run their mouths. He didn't feel much like celebrating anyway. As the night wore on, clouds threatened to end the party. The thunder cleared its throat overhead, and the drunken robbers listened. "No sleeping under the stars tonight. To the tents, lads, and to a clearer day tomorrow!" Kraid slurred. The thieves lumbered off to their beds. "Lenny! Put out the fire, and after that you can guard our prisoner. Rogue, you can use Lenny's tent tonight." Lennox set about dousing the fire. Thom wandered off to do his own little bit of work. He'd lost track of what happened to Fleetfire when they'd arrived in camp, but it didn't take long to find him. He'd been tied to a tree alongside the Marauders' horses. Fleetfire was on the end. Thom approached the beast cautiously. "Fleetfire," he whispered. He moved over the sack still tied to the bridle. He dug around inside. "Sir Madoc says you're pretty bright. If that's so, then you probably know he's in some trouble now." He found his lockpicks and pocketed them. He moved down to the other horses. "He's over there in that shack. He'll probably be dead in the morning. I just want you to know that in all my time thieving, I never had to kill a soul. I'm against that. This, what they're gonna do ain't right." Thom finished up what he was doing and moved over to Fleetfire's reins, which were secured to a branch. He began to untie them. "I'm going to do right by your master. He'll be fine." He left the reins loosely wrapped around the branch. "You stay here, and wait until we need you, and we'll all be fine." He stroked Fleetfire's mane and nose. The horse snorted. "If you're worried about the horse, don't be." Thom stiffened. Lennox had sneaked up behind him. "Addax was a horse thief before he was a Marauder, and he treats them right. He's been fed and groomed." "You move like a cat," Thom said as he turned around. "I should. I'm a thief after all." "But you're not much like these others, are you?" Thom asked as he led Lennox away from the horses before he saw something. "I doubt Damon or Kraid could catch me like that most days. If we hadn't been making so much noise ourselves they couldn't have jumped us in that field today." "No. They don't have much use for my style - well, our style, of thievery. No mess, no guards, and no one's the wiser till morning. I miss those days." "How did you fall in with this lot then?" "The same way you did. In my case it was a jailbreak. Damon'd got himself caught and when the others came for him, they took me along. They sorta pressed me into service here." Thom noticed Lennox avoided mentioning his own capture. In his circle one doesn't speak of such things. They had made their way to the last embers of the fire. "So why do you stay around? I know I work better alone." "I tried at first to get them to stop their raiding, their killing. Instead that night they got drunk and turned on me. They didn't do me any permanent harm, but I shut up. I tried to leave once after that but they found me, acted like I'd just gotten lost and `helped' me back. I didn't try again. I was lucky the first time, everything healed up. But if they broke an arm or a leg this time, I'd be useless. I'm a burglar; I can't do anything else. So I just stay here all day and help out doing other things. Hunting dinner. Building the fire." Lennox poked it with a stick and it spit sparks. "It sounds kinda lonely." "Well, you get used to lonely. Most thieves aren't social creatures." "Maybe we can trade tales of true thievery." "I'd like that, yeah. You were telling us about the time..." Thom and Lennox spent some time spinning stories for each other quietly. This was something he'd never known before. Thom had never met anyone who truly understood what he did. No one else knew the thrill of the chase, snatching the prize, and then being chased yourself. Both men admitted to having taken risks just for that ultimate thrill of being pursued afterwards. They had drawn in closer to each other as the night grew chill. Thom stared into Lennox's eyes, those friendly eyes. He could see the understanding and camaraderie in them. He leaned in and kissed Lennox before he knew what he was doing. Lennox jumped back as if he'd been bitten. "What was that?" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did that..." "That's okay," Lennox said. "I hate to admit it but I'd thought of that myself." He paused awkwardly. "Do you think we could do it again?" He leaned over and kissed Thom tenderly. Thom held Lennox's shoulders. From there, they embraced. When they separated again, they smiled. "Do you want to try something?" Thom asked. "What?" Lennox said curiously. "Come away from the fire, and I'll show you." Thom led Lennox back some distance behind the shed. There Thom took off his shirt and began to take Lennox's off as well. Thom found the older thief to be almost hairless, determined by touch, of course, while he himself had a patch of hair in the middle of his chest. The two came together once more and kissed, stroking each other's backs. Thom opened his mouth and offered Lennox his tongue, which he accepted. Beard stubble scratched and burned. Lennox ran his hands through Thom's blond hair as each explored the other's mouth. Thom pulled back and kneeled down. He tucked his fingers in Lennox's breeches and eased them down, stroking his legs as he went. Lennox shivered. He wore no underthings. Lennox stepped out of his breeches and boots and spread his legs, enjoying the wind's touch. Thom stood and began to completely disrobe but Lennox stopped him and did it himself. Both men's legs were slightly hairy. Lennox undid the corners of Thom's smallclothes and released his stiff member. Lennox wished it were brighter so that he could see Thom's cock clearer. It was turned up slightly, and it bounced as Thom kicked off his own trousers and boots. Lennox could smell the scent emanating from the crotch before his face: very enticing, very masculine. Wordlessly, Thom pushed Lennox back coaxing him into lying down. "I've never done this with another man," Lennox whispered to him. "It's okay," Thom whispered back, as he moved to all fours above him. "I'll show you what to do." He had one knee between Lennox's legs, his arms on either side of him and his face hovered just above his. He dipped down, drawing another kiss from the redhead's lips. He then moved down, exploring the contours of his neck and chest. Lennox gasped when Thom happened on his nipple, so he stayed there a while. Lennox squirmed in pleasure on the soft forest floor. Thom switched sides, and gave the other one equal treatment. Lennox was showing goose flesh from the cold, and his nipples were raised and hard. Thom moved down once again to Lennox's prong. It was a little longer than his own, but more slender. Thom gripped it. Lennox threw his head back. It knocked into a rock. "Ow," he said. "You okay?" "Great, just keep going," he said quakily. "Did you go already?" Thom asked. "No, why?" "You're all wet here." "I always do that," Lennox explained. "Don't you?" "Not as much as this," Thom said. His hand was drenched by now with precum. He smeared it over Lennox's cock, and he groaned approvingly. Thom put his hand to his mouth, tasting Lennox's juice. It was salty and a little bitter, but good. "Can I try that?" Lennox asked. Thom eased a fresh supply of the fluid out of his cock and onto his own hand, and held it out to Lennox. Lennox licked and sucked at Thom's strong fingers. Thom loved it, but soon he had to pull away to reach of the object of his desires. Thom returned to Lennox's penis. He licked up and down the shaft. Lennox jerked, clutching two fistfuls of leaves. Thom was rewarded with more precum. Thom moved to its source. He took the head into his mouth and gathered the juice with his tongue. Lennox began to breathe deeply and noisily. "Oh, god... No one's ever... ungh... oh god..." Thom thought back to their undersea encounter with Mactel the previous morning. He sucked hard on Lennox's cock. "Aaaaughhh!" Lennox cried out sharply. Thom swung around, maintaining his liplock on the redhead's manhood and put his hand over Lennox's mouth. They both remained still, waiting to see if anyone had been awakened. When nothing stirred, Thom took his hand away. "Sorry," Lennox whispered, "that just felt so good." "Just try to keep it down," Thom cautioned. "Keep it quiet, I mean." He went back to bringing Lennox off. Just to be safer, Thom used only his tongue, no suction. He moved down and further down, taking the whole of the cock into his mouth, his cheek brushing into coppery curls of hair. He reoriented his body in line with Lennox's. He almost gagged as the dick rotated in his mouth, but he fought it back. Thom became inspired. He opened his jaw a little more, and let his tongue slide out. It dragged across the underside of the cock, snaked out and tenderly stroked Lennox's balls. "Oh my gaaah... aah... I'm going to... haaa... Get rea-- ready..." Thom felt Lennox's balls pull in. He moved back up Lennox's shaft just in time to take the first shot of cum into the back of his throat. Lennox's arms and legs thrashed and he raised his hips, pushing back into the warm mouth. Thom stared wide-eyed as Lennox shot right into his throat. He went with it and took it all down. When he was finished Lennox collapsed and landed back on the turf. When Thom checked him over, he saw that Lennox had passed out. He looked at where Lennox had hit his head. It would be bruised, but Lennox would live. He didn't think it would be that easy. He groped in the dark for his pants, found Lennox's first (they didn't have lockpicks in the pocket) and tossed them beside him. Soon Thom was dressed again, uncomfortably erect, but he had other matters to attend to. He started to creep around the shack when his thoughts went back to Lennox. He found Lennox's clothes and threw them onto the roof of the shack. That should give him a cover story. Just then the rain began to filter through the thick foliage above them. Thom felt very guilty, but he could find no other way to keep Lennox safe from the aftermath. He hurried over to the fire and found a stick that was still glowing at one end. He hunched over, sheltering his makeshift torch from the rain. He pushed his way into the shack and closed the door. Inside it was pitch black. The thief blew the torch into life. Still, it wasn't very bright. "Madoc? You here?" Thom whispered. He heard a thump-thump come from one wall. Thom groped along the wall and found a proper torch. By feel he lit it with his stick. The room got slowly brighter. "Hellfire!" Madoc was chained to the wall before him and gagged with his tabard which had been balled up and stuffed into his mouth and tied in place with a rag. He was stripped to the waist, and his chest and face displayed a horrible array of lashes, scratches and blood-crusted gashes. His nose was bloodied and he seemed to be having trouble staying conscious. Thom rushed over and examined the table next to the beaten knight. There were knives, whips and metal scrapers, some of which still had Madoc's blood on them. There were no keys. He dug out his own lockpicks. "I'm getting you out of here," he said, attacking the manacle on his right, "so you stay with me, you hear? You're going to have to ride us out of here or we're both dead, so you keep awake." Madoc's attention seemed to be straying. Thom grabbed Madoc's chin and made him look Thom in the eye. "You listen to me, now. Hey, hey! Wake up! I need you here!" Thom resumed work on the shackle. Just as it gave, he heard the door let in the sound of the storm behind him. "I thought I heard someone up and about earlier." Thom turned around to see Damon in the doorway. "What is it yeh're doing here now? Could it be that yeh actually feel sorry fer this pig? If it's about yeer doggie ring, we'll get it off 'im." He stepped closer to Thom who now stood protectively in front of Sir Madoc. Damon's dark eyes bore into him. "But that's not it, is it? Yeh want out and yeh mean to take the king's pig wi' yeh. I didn't think yeh were one of us. I s'pose yeh'll be wanting this then." He pulled a key out of his pocket. "Come on then, Dark Rogue. Steal this from me." Damon pulled back and sent his fist directly for Thom's head, but he ducked and charged into the big man's stomach. Damon lost his balance backward and got checked into the wall of the shack. The key flew from Damon's hand and clattered on the floor. Damon landed his fist into Thom's stomach and now both men had some of the wind knocked out of them. Thom staggered back. Damon dealt him an uppercut to the chin. He was smiling evilly. This was going to be fun. Damon advanced on him and grabbed him by the hair. He slammed him into one of the walls at arm's length, and then the other. Thom swung his fists ineffectively. He was unsteady on his feet and his shots had no power. Damon threw him back. Thom pinwheeled and stumbled, then toppled backward onto his ass. Damon closed in for the kill. Madoc was now within reach of him and threw a surprise left hook which connected with Damon's fist. Damon glared at him with flashing eyes. He grabbed Madoc's throat and began to squeeze. Madoc tried to reach for the table of weapons, but it was still out of reach. Damon was crushing his windpipe. Thom, who was still on the floor, kicked upwards into Damon's crotch. Damon grimaced and doubled over. He released his grip on Madoc to clutch his pain. Thom scrambled to his feet and tried to get to the door on the other side of the shack. Damon recovered enough to dash over and check Thom into the wall before he could get the door open. Once everyone had cleared away, Madoc saw that the key had been kicked closer. He began to reach for it with his foot. Damon now had Thom in a headlock. He turned to the side and slammed Thom's head into the wall. He was beginning to black out, but managed to elbow Damon in the gut. He had to do it twice more before he let go. Thom stepped forward, away from Damon, seeing stars. Damon brought a double fist straight down onto his back. Madoc was painfully stretching his arm trying to reach the floor to grab the key with his free hand. Thom staggered toward the weapons table, but Damon grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him back. "Oh no, yeh ain't goin' near there." He hoisted Thom and smacked his head against the roof. Then he spun him around and delivered a roundhouse to the face, dropping him on his ass again. Thom flopped backward onto the floor, panting. Damon advanced again and bent over Thom's supine form to pick him up again. Thom kicked upwards, catching Damon on the chin. He used the momentum to roll over his head, landing on all fours as Damon stumbled back toward the door. He charged forward again, knocking Damon into the wall, but this time Damon was prepared. He kneed Thom in the stomach. Thom slumped to the ground, coughing. "That took most of the fight out o' yeh," Damon said as he stepped over him. He took a length of chain from the weapons table and wrapped it around Thom's neck. He crossed the ends and *pulled*. Thom's eyes bugged out as he choked for air and tugged uselessly at the chain. He was going to die. Damon's eyes were wide open and on fire. He stood pridefully over his victim, revelling in the idea of taking his last breaths away from him, in watching the other man's life seep away. He did not notice anything behind him until someone slashed him deep in his side. Damon screamed in rage and pain. He turned around to confront this new attacker. Madoc punched him out, dagger still in hand. Damon fell forward onto the floor. Madoc unwrapped the chain from Thom's neck. Thom inhaled desperately, wheezing. Madoc asked, "Are you alright?" Thom nodded, but his breathing was still difficult. He didn't seem to be bleeding, but bruises were beginning to form where he'd been thrown around. Madoc helped him to his feet. He quickly collected his clothes and his weapons, and Thom put out the torch. "Why did you do that?" Madoc demanded. "We need our own night vision back. It's overcast out there, darker than normal. Let your eyes adjust." The two stood in the shack until they could make out some detail on the floor and near the edges of the door. They could hear one of the Marauders outside, calling Lennox's name softly. "Shit. They've notice he's gone. I took care of your guard," Thom whispered. Madoc charged through the door, catching the Marauder by surprise, and then punched him in the jaw. He was down but not out. A short while later he was calling out, trying to wake the camp. "Fleetfire's this way," Thom said as he ran. "He's untied and ready to go." Madoc whistled shrilly, and the stallion responded, but by now most of the Marauders were awake. Fleetfire was galloping in heed of his master's call, while some of the brigands were also on their way over to see what was going on. Madoc prepared to help Thom up onto the steed's back, but he declined. "That'll take too long! I'll get a boost from one of those stumps. Get moving!" Madoc hesitated, but Thom had already started running toward the firepit. Madoc cursed and mounted. Thom was almost to the tree-stump seats. Several angry thieves tried to stop him, but he kicked, punched and did everything he could to keep his way clear. The area around the firepit was surreal-looking. All around it the trees diverted the rain onto the leaves and collected it, but in the middle of the camp where the trees had been cleared away, the rain was falling unobstructed. The fire had gone completely out. Thom finally arrived and stepped up onto one of the seats. He turned around to face any Marauders who sought to trap him. Madoc rode Fleetfire to Thom's position. He kicked at the back of one man who was giving Thom trouble and began to rein in the horse to allow Thom to climb on. Thom surprised both him and the horse by heaving his body across the horse's rump and yelling, "Go! Go!" Thom was prostrate in his usual position behind Madoc. "Where?" Madoc shouted. The horse had only slowed and was now picking up speed. Thom finally spotted Kraid in front of his tent, red with rage. "That way!" Thom called back, pointing directly at him. Madoc wondered why, but aimed his mount that way. Fleetfire's hooves pounded the ground outside the rainy center of the camp, leaving chaos in his wake. Kraid charged up to the horse, but was pushed back as the riders passed him. He felt a sharp tug on the back of his neck, then toppled backwards onto the dirt. Thom yelled out, "Let's get out of here! We've got everything we need." Madoc redirected the horse to the edge of the clearing, looking for a roadway out. Kraid clutched suspiciously at his chest. "My spritestone!! Stop them!" Thom and Madoc rode past where the other horses were kept, and where Addax was trying pointlessly to undo the knot in all their reins, which Thom had only finished tying when Lennox had surprised him. Lightning flashed, eerily illuminating the sodden clearing. Thom tucked the stone into his short and tried cautiously to swing himself upright. Madoc finally found a clear way out of the camp. Both men were badly injured, but they had escaped. Over the rumble of thunder, Thom heard Kraid bellow, "Where's Lennox?!" and he feared for Lennox's safety. * * * Madoc rode for most of an hour before the adrenalin ran out. He began to feel just how badly he'd been beaten. They rode through the dark and the wet, praying that Kraid's Marauders were far behind them. Their tracks would be easy to follow by day, so they had to put as much distance between them and the campsite as they could while they still had the cover of the night. Madoc was beginning to succumb to exhaustion. Thom (who had righted himself soon after leaving the forest) worked to keep the knight awake. Fortune smiled on them, and soon they discovered that they had ridden to the Greypoint Mountains. It was the wrong way to go to get to Cairncross, but in the gently sloping, stony foothills, they would not leave tracks. They journeyed on a little farther through the storm so that they could not be easily found, and finally stopped. Thom slid gratefully off of Fleetfire's back. Madoc almost tumbled off, and it fell to Thom to take care of his captor. He laid Madoc carefully on the hard ground and took down one of the sacks from the horse's gear. Thom had heard that there was one item that was standard issue for the king's knights. He hadn't been asked to carry it (just as well, all of that was abandoned in the sawgrass field) and he hoped the rumors were right. Inside the sack he found a piece of black cloth. Thom stretched the cloth slowly. It was time consuming and his muscles protested all the while, but it eventually became the size of a large quilt. This magical item was waterproof and would keep the humans warm tonight. He draped it over Madoc's form. Thom removed the riding gear from Fleetfire, and tried to duplicate the rubdown ritual that he had seen Madoc perform the past three nights. Thom had never had a horse in his life. He thanked the horse and apologized for the fact that he couldn't properly take care of him. He only felt a little foolish doing so. Thom turned his attention to Madoc. He knew that the wet clothes he was wearing would do him no good tonight, and would only leech whatever heat he had in his body. He pulled off the blanket and undressed him as quickly as he could. He covered the knight again with the blanket, rolling him over so he wouldn't be lying on bare ground. Thom undressed himself and put one foot on Madoc's recumbent body. He yanked on the blanket until it would accommodate two. He lay next to Madoc's naked form, his body heat feeling good after exposure to the wind and the rain. He rolled the two of them up in the blanket as best he could. They were face to face, and Thom hugged Madoc's body close for comfort before falling asleep himself. * * * The rain was only just letting up when Thom awoke. His body ached, bruised badly from his encounter with Damon. The blanket had begun to shrink overnight, pressing Thom's and Madoc's muscular bodies together as close as possible. Thom still had his arms wrapped around Madoc, and Madoc's erect cock poked between Thom's thighs. Thom's own erection burned against his stomach. He was glad the two of them had become so close during their time together, or there would have been difficult questions to answer when Madoc awoke. By the thin daylight, Madoc's face was still in rough shape. His handsome features were bloodied, covered in cuts and scrapes. Thom knew the knight's chest and back were in the same state beneath the blanket. Thom hadn't moved, but Madoc began to stir. Madoc awoke feeling warm and secure. The morning mental fog cleared and he looked into Thom's hazel eyes, with the usual sleepy grin on his face. "We made it?" he asked dopily. Thom couldn't help but grin back. "Yeah. We made it. We even got a third item off our list last night." Madoc raised his eyebrows and winced. "Kraid had a spritestone that I snagged on our way out." "You should not have done that--" "Do you really think Kraid came by that honestly? And this way it'll be going to the best of causes." Madoc relented. "I suppose you have the right of it." Pause. "Thank you for rescuing me last night. You saved my life." "I only did what you would have done in my place." Both men suddenly became aware of their closeness. Thom began to kick his feet so that he could free himself from the blanket. His thighs massaged Sir Madoc's still-hard member between them. The knight moaned appreciatively. Thom smirked. He kicked his legs again, stimulating his captor more. Madoc pushed farther between them, rubbing against Thom's cock between their stomachs. Madoc's eyes twinkled. Soon both knight and thief were humping, each against the other, grunting partly from their injuries and partly from their growing lust. The tip of Madoc's prick grated against the rough fabric of the blanket behind Thom, and he was writhing in ecstasy. This helped to massage the thief's dick between their well-defined abs. Madoc's hands stroked Thom's sides as best he could inside the constricting blanket. Madoc groaned, "Oh, I'm close, Thom, I'm nearly there." This spurred the thief to go faster. He was stretching the fabric again, and his thrusting created a muted thudding sound. Madoc unleashed a guttural cry as he came. He spewed ample amounts of cum around Thom's ass and legs. As Thom felt this growing wet spot, he slammed into Madoc once more and sprayed his own cum between their chests, scorching hot fluid fusing them somehow closer. Both men were breathing heavily after their orgasms. Impulsively, Thom gripped Madoc painfully tight and tongue kissed him. Madoc grunted from the crushing pressure aggravating his injuries, but in the deepest part of him, he loved it. He pushed into Thom's mouth with a vengeance. When they broke the kiss, Madoc had a look on his face as if he had something he wanted to say. "What?" Thom asked, curious. Madoc hesitated. "When-- When Kraid tried to use the ring on you, you held out your hand...." "Yes?" "But you and I both know that the ring will only work if it is put to your forehead. Why...?" "To keep you alive, o' course. You don't even have to *want* to do it, either, but if Kraid found that out, you'd have been dead before we ever left the meadow. I have no man's blood on my hands, and I wasn't about to start with yours." Madoc looked vaguely disappointed, but let the matter drop. "We should get going. They may still be looking for us." The two unrolled themselves from the blanket. Thom got a first good look at the extent of Sir Madoc's injuries. "Hellfire," he muttered. He had whip marks and slashes all across his back and more cuts and scratches across his chest and stomach, which were covered with dried blood and now, semen. Some of the nastier wounds had reopened, spilling fresh blood. "Come on, first things first. We have to clean you up. Let's find water." Yesterday's rain had stopped but there were some depressions in the rocks nearby where rainwater had collected. The rain had also cooled off the air, and there was still a high wind. Their clothes were still damp, so the two men draped the black blanket around them. Thom had retrieved the small white cloth that Madoc used to dry himself off after bathing and used it as a washcloth, tending to the wounds as best he could. Fortunately Damon seemed to have left everything below Madoc's waist alone. Madoc suggested that he tear up the tunic he'd worn yesterday for bandages since it was mostly ruined anyway. Since it was more than twenty feet back to their clothes, that would have to wait. It wasn't practical for the two of them to share the blanket (which continued to shrink slowly) around the small pool of rainwater as Thom cleansed Madoc's cuts. Thom started to shiver. "Here, Thom," Madoc said as he transferred the blanket to him. "Thank you. Turn around. I need to do your back now anyway." "Where did you learn to tend to wounds? If I'm not intruding." Thom rolled his eyes. "You can't exactly live on your own without learning something of the healing arts." Madoc wasn't satisfied with this answer, though. "If you live alone, then from whom did you learn?" Thom sighed. "My mother was an herbalist. I sometimes helped her with the sick and injured." "Have you ever seen anything like this plague?" "No. Those villagers were in sorry shape. If it's a magical plague, herbalism won't help much." "What happened to your father?" "He was with us. He was a tinker. We wandered a lot. I guess that's part of why I'm so solitary now." "That's very commendable, him allowing her to continue with her works while they were wed." "Yes," Thom smiled. "He knew he would never make them rich, and her talents helped a lot of people. He wasn't proud that way. But he was proud of her." Thom snapped out of his memories and finished with Madoc's back. The knight was shivering now. Thom wrung out the cloth and moved to put the blanket back over Madoc's shoulder. Together they went back to where the rest of their belongings were. * * * Madoc's wine-colored tunic had been shredded for bandages. Soon thereafter both men were dressed, their gear gathered, and they rode out of the mountains in a different direction than the one they had entered. They watched out for possible ambushes from the Marauders, but they found nor hide nor hair of them. They made their way back to Eleazar's village of Cairncross and delivered the pods and the spritestone. "Wonderful!" Eleazar said. "You've recovered half the list already, and in only three days. I don't mind saying I was beginning to lose all hope of helping these people." Eleazar clapped Thom on the shoulder. He winced. "What's the matter?" "Recovering these last two items was not so simple. We've both suffered some injuries," Madoc told him. "I was tortured and he was beaten." Eleazar seemed to look at Madoc's face for the first time. `How could he miss the fresh cuts on his face?' Thom wondered. "My word. Well, I have something for that." Eleazar rummaged around in one of his many cupboards and pulled out a slender brass rod. It was about two feet long, and half an inch in diameter. Eleazar twisted one end, and the other glowed with a golden aura. The wizard dragged the glowing end across one of the abrasions on the knight's face. Madoc twitched in pain, but the abrasion disappeared with the wand's touch. "That's amazing!" Thom cried. "It's completely healed!" Madoc and Thom both removed their shorts. Eleazar saw the numerous bandages crisscrossing Sir Madoc's body. When he saw the thief's badly bruised chest, however, he said, "I'm sorry, the wand only works where the skin is broken." He set down the wand, which ceased to glow. He pressed his fingers against Thom's black and blue spots. "Nothing seems to be broken. You'll be fine. You'll just need a few days to heal." Thom was nodding all the while Eleazar spoke. He figured that he was merely bruised. "Would you help me to remove these bandages?" The three men were busy for several minutes: Thom removing strips of tunic, Eleazar operating the wand, and Madoc healing. Madoc stopped Eleazar when he came to the scar that Thom had noticed before in Polyny. Madoc asked that that scar not be healed. Thom looked at him curiously, but Madoc said no more. When they were finished, Madoc was whole again and the pains were gone. * * * That night they camped back at the stream where they had started this particular adventure. Madoc tended to his mount, rubbing him down. Thom came up and said, "Here, let me help." "Of course. You did a fairly good job--" He looked over to Thom, who was stroking the nose of the horse as he had in the thieves' camp. "Don't! He bites!" Madoc called. But he could see that Fleetfire was tolerating the thief's attentions. Even enjoying them. "Your horse may know what I do," Thom said, "but I think he also knows what I did for you back there." "I must say again how grateful I am--" "I know. Perhaps you can do something for me one day." Thom waggled his eyebrows. Madoc's eyes tracked briefly to Thom's crotch. "No, no, *Sir* Madoc, that is another matter besides. There we are even." Madoc became suspicious. "If you believe that I will release you, I'll not. I have my duty." "Don't be foolish. I meant, we still have half the items to cover together, and as you say, one of them may be claiming the lives of all who seek it. I do not want to die." Madoc accepted this and finished grooming his horse. Their fire pit had remained in place. Both men were now having supper, eating the game that they had caught after tending to Fleetfire. Neither of them had eaten all day. And Madoc hadn't eaten in two days. They were ravenous. During their meal, Thom commented, "You know, we are very lucky to have gotten out of there alive. We work pretty well together, you and I." Madoc considered this as he chewed, his face neutral was again. "You're right. We do." He swallowed. "But I cannot see myself becoming a thief, and I doubt you'll become one of the King's Men." Thom grinned. "No, I suppose you have the right of it. Still, I consider myself very lucky." When dinner was finished Madoc brought out his blanket and began stretching it to size. "I thought that tonight," he said, "I would take you between my legs." He laid the blanket on the ground and began to undress. `Yes,' Thom thought. `Very lucky.'