For a brief moment he worried that he might have one of his weird seizures again, where he would sit incapacitated, staring into nothingness, his whole being a grey void with no hope of finding an escape, his own private hell that took more and more of his life.

It was a laugh, indeed. Powerful James, Lord Ellison, Count of Alderthorpe, friend of the king, envied member of the High Council, 28 promising years old and rich beyond thought because of all the land he was owning - was not able to live a week of his life without falling into fits and embarrassing himself and his reputable family with his „episodes“. The girl he had been supposed to marry, had left soon after she had been witness to one of those seizures. He had tried to explain to Caroline that her perfume was somewhat strong to his nose but then nobody would have believed him anyway. Because he just knew that she had been bleeding that day, trying to mask that particular scent with rosewater. And all of a sudden he had just *left*, his consciousness no longer in his body, his mind travelling the grey vastness, his shadow the one of a large cat that strode with sleek, elegant strides, searching for an unknown companion. He never found that companion, though. He knew there was noone else like him, sick and tired and desperately in need of some help.

Caroline had not been the help he had been looking for: She had cried out, so his brother Stephen told him later, when she had gotten no response from the man sitting next to her in an alcove of Alderthorpe Castle. Her one and only question to Stephen had been:

„Does he have this often?“ and when his brother could not meet her eyes she had turned, called for her maid and left within the hour. Her father had sent back the engagement ring the next day and it was said that she had joined the congregation of the Holy Sisters of Mercy for one year to purify herself from his evil influence. Right after that year she had been married to Charles, another neighbour, not as rich as himself, but still a good catch. When they met at the wedding, she was not able to look at him without contempt, her white breast adorned with a heavy golden cross, her lips moving in silent prayer while her fingers grasped the beads of an expensive rosary.

But while he was travelling to the king’s castle, fighting the cold wind and the ache in his chilled fingers, he was able to stay conscious, his destiny right in front of himself. The king had called for him, needed his help and advice while dealing with His Excellency, Bishop Silvestrus. And help and advice he would willingly give in troubled times like these. The road turned and the wind changed, too, now blowing into his face and his horse tried to shy away. He reigned the nag, then urged it on again. The next gust brought the stink of many men, of firelight and greasy meat and a cesspit to his nose and he winced at the thought that he should not be able to smell this, that nobody should be punished to smell this and yet this was what he had to live through every time he came into a city or a castle. He sighed and clucked his tongue to encourage his horses into a faster step. The road got muddier the closer he got to Iverntake Castle, many hooves had taken that way lately.

So the rumors that spoke of oncoming trouble seemed to be true. He had tried not to believe them, but it seemed that Stephen had been right all along: The young man was convinced that there would be another crusade to conquer the Holy Land, to free Jerusalem once and for all from the filthy grip of the heathens. They had both been too young to be part of the last crusade, the one their father had not survived. And now, James saw it clearly and without regret, it was his turn to die for his king. And given the misery that was his lonely life right now, he found himself to be grateful for the gift of an honorable death on the battlefield. His one other option being to lose himself to the grey hell for good or - even more frightening - to commit suicide and never see the light of God, so he had arranged for Stephen to follow him in governing their estate and left, serenly looking forward to whatever this war had to offer.

The castle was closer now, the lights of many torches already visible and glowing against the dark, cloudy sky. Still he was travelling alone on the broad road when suddenly a big, almost white wolf appeared like an apparition about half a mile to his left, looking at him with startingly blue eyes, then falling into an easy trott to follow where James was riding. Lord Ellison reached for his crossbow, the new weapon still foreign to his grip, to defend his life. For whenever one wolf appeared the pack was close by and he intended to sell himself at a high price. But his horses didn’t seem to mind the new companion and he felt shivers creep up his spine that had nothing to do with the chilly winds or the dampness or the dark night. The wolf looked at him again, the snout almost smiling, while he kept up the fast pace of Ellison’s nags. He didn’t come closer, he didn’t turn away. And with a sob James saw that the animal ran through some bushes that stood in its way, without so much as altering the pace.

„Dear Lord!“ but the prayer did not work, the wolf stayed at his side, snarling a warning from the distance. And then the first guards appeared and the white wolf stopped almost in front of them and sat and threw his head back and howled. And one of the guards shuddered and said:

„Someone just walked over my grave and His Lordship has to be here to witness this!“ And the armed soldier laughed contritely and when James looked again, the wolf was gone and he was allowed to pass.

A servant took his horses and another one grabbed his luggage as soon as he was inside Iverntake Castle, and the Majordomus bowed, glad that his King’s oldest friend had finally arrived, another ally, another voice to back up his Royal Highness. With a smile totally unlike his usual restraint, he greeted James:

„His Royal Highness will be very pleased to see you, Mylord. The Bishop is giving him a hard time...“ he confided while Ellison, after hours of riding, finally streched sore limbs. He pushed back the hood of his coat, revealing blue eyes, tired but alert, short, shorn hair, that could be easily put under a helmet, and hard lips that tightened even more at the mention of Bishop Silvestrus.

Now that he was no longer huddled on his large warhorse, Ellison turned out to be tall, broad shouldered and hardmuscled. His long dark blue weapon’s dress no longer hidden under the heavy coat, had his coat of arms stitched right above the heart: A small shield, a black lion’s paw with angry claws against a yellow and white background and a count’s crown on top. His Lordship untied his sword that had been dangling off his saddle and strapped it to his black leather belt.

„You will not need this, Mylord!“ the Majordomus smiled friendly for the second time and Ellison found himself smiling back.

„I know, but it will make a good impression on the Bishop - and I want him to be impressed.“ He emphasized the last word and the Majordomus’ smile grew, because he knew that the clergyman was not only jealous of the easy friendship James shared with the king, but he also was feeling oddly inadequate next to the rich and influential nobleman.

„Oh, Silvestrus will be impressed - even if you would decide to only present your dagger. He is afraid of you, you know!“ Said as if it were a secret, Ellison had to laugh at the remark. Ever since the Bishop had seen him kill a wild boar a few months ago with nothing else than a hunting knife to safe his king’s life the holy man had been wary. Maybe because even though the bishop was known for his hunting skills he had stepped back and just watched when the enraged animal had attacked the hunting party. Ellison had seen the calculating look in Silvestrus’ eyes and the Bishop had seen him see it. From then on they were aware of each other.

Chapter 2 Dagger and longsword in place, his Lordship straightened himself once more, and, acompanied by the soft clank of his weapons, stepped into the Great Hall of Iverntake Castle, where King Rafius was sitting at the middle table, Bishop Silvestrus at his left side, the seat at his right still empty, his noblemen and their ladies gathered on large tables to the left and right. As it was common when Lord Ellison entered a room, all talking stopped slowly while he was walking closer. And although he was almost unable to breathe because of the heavy scents of perfume, sweat, waste and food that assaulted him from everywhere, he continued until he was standing in front of his king, then sank onto one knee and bowed his head to honor this man of all men.

„James!“ Ellison could hear the smile in this voice, the caress that word had once meant while they had been younger and free of responsibilities. He looked up, into deep brown eyes that conveyed friendship and trust.

„My king. You called and I came!“ And with those words he once again gave his life and soul into the hands of his friend who just happened to rule their world. The Bishop snorted in disgust and mumbled:

„And you took your sweet time to come!“

Ellison’s eyebrow rose as he looked at Silvestrus just like he would have looked at an insect, interested but vaguely disgusted, and he was pleased to see the Bishop squirm. The man had gained some weight since he had last seen him. Though not much older than Ellison, Silvestrus was already on the way of being fat, his skin a pasty white under the heavy red miter. Standing behind him was his ever present page, a slender, small young boy who had not laughed in a long time, his hair shorn the way monks wore it, his features as feminine as his hands were delicate. When Silvestrus realised at whom Ellison was looking, he blushed, then flustered and grabbed a golden goblet filled with red wine.

Ellison smiled a predatory smile, then got up and bowed again.

„Come sit next to me, James!“ King Rafius had not missed the small exchange and suppressed a little smile. The Bishop had given him a lot of grief and it felt good to see that his old friend still had the power to make that mighty man cave.

They exchanged an embrace and again Silvestrus snorted. He knew that these two men who had grown up together shared a friendship he was not able to destroy, whether he used blackmail or force - and god knew he had tried both. He could only sit and watch Ellison who was now given some food and a goblet of wine and who used the damned dagger - and one of those newish forks, funny instruments with two peaks to hold and cut the meat - yes, Lord Ellison would have to be the one to be too vain to use his hands to tear into the roasted beef. He tried to listen to what the king said to his friend but couldn’t understand one word, the noise of everyone talking again too loud all of a sudden again.

„You heard about the Bishop’s plans on a new Crusade?“ Rafius was asking Ellison right now, leaning closer to his friend in order to keep the talk private.

„The rumors were around already, yes. Is he going with us or is he going to think of new taxes so that he can indulge himself to yet another cathedral?“ Ellison’s voice dripped sarcasm, and the king laughed - a first in a long time, too.

„I will at least take him to the coast of Arabia - I am going to need holy influence to give benediction to our ships. So I take it you will join our holy army?“ The king sounded eager and excited and Ellison hated to put a damper on his friend’s high spirits.

„I shall come with you - but don’t expect this to be an easy conquest. The Holy Land belongs to a people of warriors, they will not just roll over and succumb. And I do not know if I’l be of much good. My malade is making me sick more often than not. Haven’t you heard about my mislead engagement?“ He felt unworthy and his eyes were cast down, so he didn’t see the pity and the love in Rafius’ face.

„I’ve heard that Caroline is spending more time in the chapel than in the matrimonial bed and her husband is already having a concubine. And his wife is not even pregnant yet. It is said that she is praying aloud when her husband tries to bed her. Not a particular aphrodisiac, if you ask me. You’ve been lucky to escape. And remember: We had your illness under control once. Maybe we can control it again.“

There was hope and gratitude in Ellison’s voice when he looked up and met the brown eyes of his friend: „Do you really think so?“ then after a while he added: „And if not, I’ll die serving you. This will be a cheap price to pay for having your friendship.“

„Don’t talk about dying any longer, James - We’ll get this settled. Now: Just look at that - I’ve found a young magician; he practiced on my market-place and I invited him in for today’s celebration. I am glad, you made it in time to see him, too!“

Somehow despite his king’s confident words James was not yet convinced that everything would be easy from now on. But then - who was he to question his king. He turned around to look at the delusionist, taking another bite of the too spicey meat, drinking it down with wine that he had watered down.

Chapter 3

You had to give the magician credit: He was young, very young, indeed with long curly hair and expressive blue eyes, dressed in a long black gown adorned with moons and stars. The boy had no help when he carried a table and a small bag into the Great Hall and he had to shoo away a stray dog that immediately searched the bag for food. But when he stood and shook his arms, everybody fell quiet and watched.

„I am Blarus, the Great and I am not here to entertain you!“ murmurs greeted that announcement and a wave of hostility seemed to envelope the young man. Who just smiled „I am here to show you true magic and the wonders of creation.“ The crowd exhaled and Ellison noticed that with those few words and some gestures of his expressive hands the young man had captured his audience to the point of mindlessness. You had to admire that comedian. Even Rafius chuckled.

Twenty minutes later everyone was stunned speechless. The young man had - while constantly talking - produced silk scarves, gold coins and even predicted unpredictable cards. The Bishop was leaning forward, demanding:

„So tell us what the future holds for us!“ But the young man had just laughed and said:

„This is not my profession, your Excellency - I cannot see what the future holds - at least most of the time I can’t. Isn’t dealing with the future and the afterlife more in your line of work?...“ he had smiled again, but the Bishop had been mad at the small joke, while Ellison had felt admiration for the young man’s bravery.

Next Blarus, the Great, with lots of armgestures and hokus-pokus covered a wooden goblet filled with wine with a black blanket, then mumbled something that to Ellison’s sensitive hearing sounded suspiciously like „may that fat sucker rot in hell“ - but he had to be mistaken, of course - and finally uncovered the goblet again. A beautiful white dove was sitting on the rim of the goblet, shaking its feathers and eyeing around. The bird was obviously used to being hidden under a blanket and touched by the magician, because it didn’t move until the applaus died down and Blarus, the Great, reached out to gather the dove into gentle hands.

Suddenly the Bishop jumped up, his seat tumbled backwards, almost injuring the small page that still had been standing behind his superior while he yelled at the top of his lungs:

„Heresy - he’s with the devil. He uses the Holy Spirit for his evil tricks - Get him into prison or we all will be doomed!“All hell broke loose, the ladies tried to run to the safety of their chambers, the noblemen were torn between wanting to run too, and protecting their king, and Ellison was just stunned that one simple stupid line could cause such an uproar.

The young magician tried to make himself heard: „It’s just a trick, I can show you, you don’t have to ...“ But it was already too late. Five guards snatched the small young man, the white dove, now truly startled, flew upwards to the ceiling, disappearing somewhere and hopefully escaped through a window, while the Bishop still roared orders.

„Get him into the dungeon, put him into an empty cell!“ While king Rafius still tried to calm the crowd that was yelling uncontrollably now.

When finally everything settled, the young man was already imprisoned in the dungeon and a joyful banqet had been destroyed by the malicious mind of a holy man. What a riot. Ellison shook his head. He was bone-weary. A long ride, the dinner, then suddenly all that noise because of the trick of an illusionist. This just could not be. He turned to Rafius: „You know that the guy did not do anything wrong?!“

„Of course I know - I just think the boy will be safer tonight in a holding cell, no matter how damp and dirty it may be, than at the mercy of this crowd of lunatics. And tomorrow I’ll free him and pay him to make up for all the hassle. Silvestrius can’t have been serious with his accusations.“

Somewhat placated, yet still worried about the youth that had to spend a night in the dungeons of Iverntake Castle, Ellison went to his chamber shortly after that, too tired to even think any longer.

Chapter 4

But sleep did not come. He had been given one of the modern guestrooms with a real bed and even a basin and some water, so that he finally was able to wash the dust of the trip off his sweaty skin. As long as his entourage was still on the way he not only had to help himself - his luggage contained only one more linnen long-shirt and one leather tunic in case he wanted to join the hunting party the next day. By evening his page and three of his soldiers, whom he trusted with his life, would arrive at the castle anyway, bringing more luggage and some salves and bandages - then they would merely wait until the war would begin.

But now Lord Ellison finally sank down on the bed, the long shirt soothing on his irritated skin, his head pounding from all the smells and noises that kept disturbing his peace. He noticed with a smile that his mattress was made of fresh straw, noone had been sleeping on it before. He knew he had to thank Rafius for that - the king most likely still remembered that he was not able to sleep on a bed that had already been used. He always seemed to know exactly what had been done there before: He found out who had bedded whom and kept insisting that the scent of semen was still strong in the mattress even after a long time. But , even worse, he also seemed to know if somebody had been sick or just too out of it to use the chamber-pot. More than once he had been sleeping under the stars, using a rough blanket and his coat against the night’s chill, saying that at least he knew the horse that had been rubbed dry with the cloth before...

But this night, even though the bed was freshly made and hot coals in a basin standing on iron legs next to the sleeping place had warmed the room sufficiently sleep eluded him. The face of the young magician, the terror in his eyes when the Bishop had wrongfully accused him, did not leave him alone. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw the eyes of the young man, startled, pleading, searching for anyone to help him - and he had done nothing, had just been standing there watching as the young man was dragged away to spend a night in the dungeon - not a place where he would like to be.

And then there was the soft scraping of insects living in the mattress that made him shudder. Athough: In the dungeon there would be insects and big fat rats and not a chance to escape them. Young Blare the Great would be well-advised not to close his eyes that night either, the chance that rats would try to feast on his body almost a given. Ellison shuddered and turned around. Why was he so worried for a stranger all of a sudden. For sure it was not the first time the magician had been thrown into a holding cell - those were the dangers of being a comedian in these troubled times. Yet every time James tried to find some sleep blue eyes were haunting him, begging him to help, and the image of a wolf following his trail haunted him. If he listened just hard enough he could hear him howl, the sound a lonely wail, tearing at his heart.

Chapter 5

Down in the dungeons of Iverntake Castle two men were standing in front of one of the large investigation-tables. The small young man that was strapped down with leather ropes spread-eagle was sweating profusely, his frightened features contorted with pain and dread. The Bishop asked the same question again and again - and the young man was not able to come up with an easy lie, now that he had been whipped by the hooded executioner who was eagerly waiting to inflict a little more pain.

„What does my future hold for me?“ The holy man was holding a piece of perfumed linnen in front of his nose and with a last spark of sarcasm born out of his fear of death Blare the Great thought that maybe having lost control of his muscles after some viscious kicks into his abdomen now offended the holy nose of his tormentor.

„I have no power whatsoever to look into the future, I swear. Beating me will not change that answer...“ Whatever he might have wanted to say was drowned in a desperate cry when the executioner used his whip again, this time the lashes had been dipped into vinegar, to increase the agony of broken skin. And it was at that moment the young man knew he would not escape this time, he would die in this rotten hell of a torture-chamber for noone would come to hi srescue and unlike all the other times he had been taken into custody this time he would not be strong enough to get away on his own. Another blow of the whip took his breath away and he yelled again, before blessed darkness surrounded him - the image of a large black cat hissing and spitting at his tormentor the last thing he thought of.

This time Ellison had heard it for sure - hell, he had felt it: A distant, desperate cry for help, the shout of a man in death-pains, that was creeping up the walls of Iventake Castle, and he felt the walls tremble in the aftershocks of that pained shout. He tried to concentrate to hear something else, something more, something that would tell him that everything was all right despite this terrible cry, but there was only quiet now. James sat up with a sigh - he didn’t think he could sleep right now - and slipped into his long darkblue tunic. He felt better, less exposed, less vulnerable the moment he wore the dress that showed his coat of arms, but it did nothing to calm him down. And then suddenly there was that dreadful, hard laugh somewhere in the corridors of the castle and he could not *not* listen to the Bishop’s voice:

„Today he passed out a little too early, you will have to be more careful the next time - I want the truth from this devil’s desciple. I want him to look into the future - and he has to be conscious to do that. Did I make myself clear?“ and executioner Giordan, a man who always knew how to obey orders because he had seen the outcome of orders not obeyed too often, was eager to answer:

„Yes, your Excellency, of course your Excellency. I thought he would be stronger. I shall not repeat that mistake...“ but it seemed that the Bishop had already entered his apartment and Giordan was standing in front of a closed door and finally walked away to leave the castle. For his own hut had been built next to the cemetary, so that his presence would not annoy the rich who were allowed to live inside the Castle’s walls.

Fear chilled Ellison to the bone and he found himself shaking at the thought that Bishop Silvestrus might have had killed the young man with the magically laughing eyes already. Almost an hour passed until the Count was able to think about a plan to rescue the young magician - and he did not want to think what would happen if there was nobody left to be rescued any longer. Finally he took his purse. With a little luck he just might be successful.

Chapter 6

The two little whores giggled and tried to smoothe their filthy dresses when a tall, welldressed stranger in a long coat stepped out of the shadow of an early morning to their sleeping place in the stables. That his face was hooded did not frighten the women - they had seen stranger things in the years they had *befriended* the guards and soldiers. What did surprise them, though, was that the tall stranger did not pay them to use them himself. He sent the first one down to the dungeon, just when the first rays of the sun climbed up the sky, the dim grey light somehow adding to the darkness in his heart. While he waited the second prostitute tried to talk to him, but the stranger kept silent vigil, until a few minutes later the only soldier that guarded the dungeon stepped out of the gate, his little whore at his heels. The pair ran over to the military quarters and entered quietly and although he was standing on the far side of the court, he knew what was going on: The lucky soldier was talking to his friend, trying to persuade him to start the shift early this once. And his comrade let himself be convinced. Minutes later the only prisoner of the dungeon was under guard again. Until the second prostitute slipped into the dark underworld.

The tall stranger slowly counted to fivehundred, then took a deep breath and ran across the court. The hood slipped from his shorn hair and Ellison squinted into the rising sun. The heavy door of the dungeon did not even creak when he pressed it open. In one of the cells someone was panting and mumbling, the soft laughter of a well-paid whore a caressing counterpoint to aroused movement. Lord Ellison slipped inside, the smell of fresh blood and waste a beacon. On a table he even found the large key to open the one occupied cell and he held his thoughts in fear - what if he was too late, what if the young man was already dead? But then he heard the soft whispers of breath, irregular but determined and he knew that the young man was still alive although most likely not able to run to safety nor even to walk.

When James stepped inside the cell, the young man lying in the corner seemed to sense the stranger and he swallowed a sob:

„My answer is still the same. I do not know the future. Leave me alone, please!“

In a heartbeat Ellison knelt next to the dirty mattress, his hand covering the boy’s mouth while he whispered a soft „shhhh!“ He could feel the lips move when the magician mouthed „YOU?“ exhausting all his strength with this one hushed word and sinking back into the dirty straw that covered one corner of the cell. A quick look around and Ellison gathered the lithe body of the young man into his arms. Gently he lowered the kid next to the door, then rearranged the smelly straw that seemed sticky to his touch. He didn’t want to think too closely about what he had touched right now. But he knew: To any cursory inspection it had to look as if the prisoner was still on the mattress, sleeping or unconscious. It would buy them time.

Ellison helped the young man to stand up, not surprised when the kid leaned heavily onto him. They slipped out of the cell, which James locked again, then put the key back onto the table. He still could hear the guard panting. When the young comedian shuffled slowly, breath hitching, Ellison gathered Blare into his arms and carefully carried him into the sunlight. The rays of the morning sun seemed to hurt the young man’s eyes for he turned his face and hid in the folds of James’ heavy coat, not emerging until he was put down on a fresh bed.

„You can let go of my coat now, Blare. You are safe for now. Nobody will dare to search this room.“ The voice was soothing and gentle, as were the fingers that combed back his long locks. Then the tall man hissed when he saw what the first round of *encouragement to talk* had done to the magician’s face.

The young man’s smile was sad: „I do not know how to thank you. I have nothing to pay you - even worse, I am nothing. My name is Blair Sandburg and I am jewish - I left the ghetto to see the world but I admit I was not prepared to die because of a conjuring trick.“ The voice still was rough from yelling and the young man was in pain every time he took a breath, but his eyes were clear again and they looked at his rescuer with something akin to adoration.

„So I shall call you Blair, then. I am James, Lord Ellison and not even the king thought that you would be in any grave danger while spending a night in a holding cell. We both did not reckon with Silvestrus’ sadistic streak, though.“ He broke off, too embarrassed to go on, his jaw-muscles twitching, for he realized that he had just confessed that despite the fact he believed him being not guilty he had done nothing to keep the innocent out of the dungeon.

The kid just smiled this sad smile of his: „ I am very grateful that you did not leave me at the mercy of the rats - two- and fourlegged. And I am sorry to mess up the place where you sleep - it is just - I was not able to clean myself after they used the whip...“

The apologize in the small voice almost broke Ellison’s heart - this man felt sorry that he *messed up* his bed - with his blood and traces of urine and waste he had not been able to hold back when he had been beaten up. With one finger Ellison touched one unharmed spot on the young man’s cheek, gently stroking unmarred skin, wondering how this gesture would feel when the kid was not hurting all over... then he jerked back into reality, the boys intelligent eyes intently fixed on him. Suddenly the gaze shifted from James’ face to the small coat of arms now visible on Ellison’s robe and the pupils widened:

„ A cat’s paw. A large black cat...“ the kid mumbled, and it almost sounded as if he was sinking back into delirious dreams.

James sighed: „I would like to help you to wash up - would you mind?“ he begged for permission to help ease the pain. For a moment young Blair Sandburg seemed to distrust his Lordships motives but then he sighed and relaxed:

„I won’t be much help, I am afraid. But I would love to feel clean once again.“ His voice almost broke, and he closed his eyes to keep his feelings at bay.

„Nobody can harm you in here. I promise to protect you...“ And finally it was Ellison who had to fight back his tears when he cut off the rags that had been the beautiful and impressive coat of the famous magician. Because what was revealed was a marred body, bloody streaks left by the whip covering already darkened bruises where fists and boots had hit.

As gently as he could Ellison cleaned the kid, but the young man could not hold back hisses of pain, finally tears were leaking out of tightly closed eyes. „I don’t want to cry“ he choked out, annoyed by his own weakness, „but this burns so much - I cannot help it.“ Blair Sandburg obviously wanted to be strong and respected for his strength.

„I know“ his Lordship’s soothing voice was almost as calming as the gentle swipes with the cool cloth. „It is an involutary reaction, I remember crying when the boar slashed my calve - you still can see the scar. I’ll put some salve on your wounds, they’ll stop hurting soon.“

„You cried?“ Too surprised at the confession to register anything else, Blair did not even flinch when Ellison had to touch him *there* with the wet washcloth.

„Of course - as you said - this is something you cannot help... nothing to be ashamed of!“ And those had been the right words, because Sandburg suddenly smiled, his whole face lighting up despite the bruises and the split lip. And he did not object when he was thoroughly wiped off and cleaned again with a little more vigour that might have been necessary, but then Ellison had never seen a jewish cock before and he was more curious than he cared to admit and the difference startled him. The member seemed too exposed for comfort, but the young man didn’t seem to mind the attention, might not even have realized it.

Finally, the first servants were already up and scurrying around the hallways, Ellison gently covered the small man with a blanket: „Go to sleep - I’ll come back with some breakfast and your freedom...“ But Blair Sandburg was already fast asleep. And for the first time ever Lord Ellison locked the door to his chamber with a key before he went to see his king.

Chapter 7

„Silvestrius had done WHAT?“ King Rafius was enraged. He hated secrets, hated not to hear everything that was going on in his kingdom - and he hated the Bishop without being able to send him back to Rome. He knew quite well that this man had been put in charge to control him, the Pope trying to make sure that the secular power was secured in his kingdom. He knew he had no means to get rid of the Pope’s spy without incurring the Pope’s wrath. Thus helpless rage was his reaction to James’ accusations.

„He had the magician strapped to the torture-table. The young man was beat and whipped and left unconscious when I found him. But: I cannot prove that it was Silvestrus’ doing, the executionist will not speak and Blair would not be believed. I am afraid your hands are tied, literally.“ Ellison’s control did not falter, only his jaw-muscles twitched and his fists were clenched so hard they were almost white.

Rafius sighed: „I know - I have to find a way to rid myself of the Bishop - Of course I will sign a pardon for young what’s his name? Sandburg. Exactly. And I will pay him reparations - And“ he added as an afterthought „you will keep him in your room - if Silvestrius finds him he might kill him to get rid of a witness.“

„I already thought about that. This evening my men arrive - I’ll send my page on a wild-goose-chase, so that Sandburg can take his place until I can get him to safety. And I need some food so that the boy can get some meat on his bones.“ Ellison already collected fruits, bread, cheese and milk to feed a hopefully hungry kid. Rafius grinned: „My my Ellison, you’d make a fine big brother.“

„Well, ask Stephen, he’ll tell a different story, probably.“ A rueful grin ghosted over James’ face while he balanced the tray with goods from a king’s table.

„Ah, probably not, you might be surprised.“ His old friend smiled gently, remembering days long gone but Ellison didn’t see it any longer. He was already out on his way to take care of his precious charge.

Chapter 8

Nobody dared to stop James while he got back to his room. After a little clanking and fiddling he was able to unlock the door again - he sighed. The young magician was still sound asleep on the bed, had not moved at all while he had been away. Now that the tension leaked out of his body, James was well aware that he had not gotten any sleep that night - and after some days on the roads he found to be exhausted to his limits. He put the tray onto the table and looked around: Two wooden chairs, artfully carved but not very comfy, did not invite him to take a well-deserved rest. While he still convinced himself that the floor and his coat would be sufficient for taking a nap, the young man on the bed stirred and turned around to face the wall. In a moment James was standing next to the restless sleeper not knowing how to calm the boy who was facing away from him now. Finally he sat down on the crisp mattress and reached out with a careful hand, gently touching the exposed neck, probably the one spot on the poor boy’s body that wasn’t bruised and sore. Immediately the frantic mumbling stopped, so Ellison continued to pet the warm skin, revelling in the feel of soft curls clinging to his fingers, and a reassuring heartbeat he could feel against his own skin. Without even realizing it, he sank onto the bed, just for a moment, to close his eyes, his nose buried in long auburn curls, deeply inhaling the scent that didn’t offend his sensitivity, the heat of a recovering body like a cloud of comfort enveloping him. Oddly the last thing he remembered hearing was a small murmur that sounded like „a large black cat...“ then he drifted off into deep sleep, where a large almost white wolf was smiling up at him and licking his ankles.

Blair Sandburg smiled down at the large black cat that was lying at his feet, rubbing a majestic head against his ankles and purring. Lazily the animal extended one paw to flick out sharp claws and - even in his dreamstate - the young man remembered the coat of arms he had seen twice before; at the banqet just before he had been captured and at his rescue, when a dark knight had come to get him out of the frightening dungeon. He shuddered and the cat noticed his discomfort and licked his toes, a rough, tickling caress from a scraping tongue, before it continued to nibble at its claws to sharpen them further. With utmost care so as not to startle the big cat, Blair bent down and ruffled the animals ears. The cat stopped in midlick, huffed once and closed its eyes in bliss.

Chapter 9

The sun was already high up in the sky when the guard who was supposed to bring the one meal a day a prisoner was allowed to have, found out that said prisoner was gone. The young man had been very happy and equally sated up to this moment and now was afraid he would be the next inhabitant of one of his own cells. But his superior, quietly instructed by a still very angry king, had only one thing to say:

„Pretend he’s still there. If the Bishop shows up and wants to see the prisoner, tell him, he’s been released just then at the King’s orders.Oh, and you won’t get paid for the next two weeks for having lost your prisoner. Now get back.“ The guard almost kissed his Captain’s hand in gratitude and slipped back into his dungeon. He never found out how the unconscious man had managed to escape a locked cell.

It was well into the afternoon when James Ellison finally woke up next to his still sleeping protege, unaware of his surroundings except the fact that he was feeling *good*, rested, calm and alert at once. He found that not only he was able to listen to the young man’s heartbeat, but that his own heart was beating with almost the same rhythm, and that his hand still rested on Blair’s neck, offering quiet reassurance. He stretched and tried to get out of bed without waking the injured boy, but all of a sudden the kid turned and looked at him with clear, blue eyes that seemed to probe deep into his heart.

„I think I never said how grateful I was!“ his voice was still rusty from sleep but the rest had taken the rough edges away that came with yelling.

„You did - quite a few times - but I only did what I should have done in the first place. You had done nothing wrong - you shouldn’t have been in the dungeon at all. It had been Silvestrius’ plan to get you to talk. I am very sorry about that - would you...“ James hesitated, then offered „like some food? I brought cheese and milk and ..“

„Silvestrius - he’s the Bishop, isn’t he?“ and when Ellison nodded Blair continued „he wanted to know the future - I am not sure what he plans but there has to be more at stake than just plain curiosity.“

James set the tray loaded with food onto the mattress and sat down again, raising a questioning eyebrow. Blair broke a piece of bread and some cheese and took a bite. Munching hungrily he answered: „Don’t you see? If this is just about the date of his next promotion, he wouldn’t use torture to get some answers. This has to be something more important - something political, I might guess.“ Sandburg shifted to sit up more comfortable and winced at the sharp pain that sizzled through the whipmarks on his back and chest.

„Let me help you.“ Lord Ellison tried to lift the tray, but was immediately stopped by the young man.

„Don’t take that food away!“ Blair cringed before he had even finished the sentence. Most likely he just had offended the only person who had helped him in a very long time. Desperately trying to apologize, he cast down his eyes and mumbled: „Oh, Mylord, I am so sorry, it’s just, I am still very hungry.“

„No, I never would have guessed!“ The tall knight put down the tray smiling, trying to put Blair at ease again. He had to laugh at the sight of a very young kid, wolfing down the last crumbs of cheese while he himself was still picking at a small slice of bread. Sandburg looked up under long lashes and grinned ruefully, trying to slow down in order to be polite. He didn’t succeed long, though: Grapes and two apples disappeared in no time at all until finally Blair hickupped and laid back with a sigh, rearranging the blanket so that it would cover the nasty red marks that still marred his skin.

„I haven’t eaten for two days, you know.“ The quiet confession made James shiver. Silently he offered more milk and promised himself to get fresh food as soon as possible. Blair took the cup and sipped, then sighed: „I was performing in a small village when the king’s messenger came and wanted me to come to court. I was very pleased but also really nervous, so I sort of forgot to eat.“ he shrugged, again hissing when his skin protested against the small movement. „And I don’t think that food in the dungeon would have been that good either.“ an irrepressible smile lightened the room even though it came out crooked thanks to a lip that was slowly turning blue. „So, how did you know Silvestrius was tormenting me, James?“ With a jolt Ellison realised that this had been the first time the young man had used his name, and he knew he would remember the moment forever - the intimate setting, both on them on one bed, breakfast destroyed, a moment of comfort and quiet and even love...

Then he janked back into reality and without thinking too much he answered with the truth: „I tried to get some sleep but I heard your shout of pain and I heard the Bishop talk.“ Too late - he wished he could undo the words, make them unimportant,dismissable, but it was too late. Blair frowned and murmured: „You were in this bed and you heard me yell - boy, I didn’t know that my voice carried that far. And the Bishop wasn’t shouting at all - he tried to keep this all very quiet I suppose...“

Defensively Ellison admitted: „I have sensitive hearing - be glad it is that sensitive.“

„I am, oh, believe this, I am. But that would mean, you hear everything that’s going on whereever you are? The king has to be very happy about this talent of yours. And I can only guess how terrible you must feel sometimes... I am sorry...“ The young man reached out, barely touching James’ arm, not sure if the gesture would be appreciated. Now it was Ellison’s turn to smile sadly, and with a small move of his arm, he inched closer so that the kid now would touch him, for he needed this comfort right now, needed to be held by someone who understood somehow. Then he heard it. He cocked his head and listened closely, concentrating hard, and for once was not afraid to have one of his seizures for the touch of Blair’s hand seemed to anchor him in the here and now, so that he was able to listen carefully to the yelling and annoyed shouting of Bishop Silvestrius who had finally found out that his prisoner had been released. The rattling of a dozen hooves almost deafened James, and only Sandburg’s soothing touch kept him from having a fit. He flinched and finally Blair’s curiosity got the best of him:

„What, what’s going on, James?“

„Silvestrius found out you were gone by the king’s orders. He is already organizing a search party. And my men arrived - just in time as I may say.“

„What do you mean, just in time?“ Sitting up straight on the bed, Blair tried to find out if there were any clothes for him so he could make a fast escape before the Bishop would realize that he was still in the castle. The sudden movement, though, caused him to flinch once more and he could not help but lean into the gentle touch of James’ arm that pushed him back onto the mattress.

„You are in no shape to run or even ride. My page will take one of the king’s horses and gallop away. He has hair like yours, from a distance they’ll mistake him for you.“

„What if they shoot him? I couldn’t live with his blood on my soul!“

„Bless you for thinking that, but Silvestrius wants you to answer questions. They cannot shoot Ruffa, they have to capture him alive. And when they got him and see it’s not you, he’ll tell them he has a message for my brother that is of utmost importance - don’t worry, I’ll come up with something. It will be their responsibility if they had followed the tracks of the wrong man...“

Blair thought about it, then finally grinned again: „You came up with some pretty nifty plan. Sneaky, your Lordship, really sneaky. This could work, you know?“

Ellison answered the grin and nodded „I really hope it will.“ then he sobered: „your life seems to depend on it!“

Half an hour later Ruffa sneaked out into the stables, mounted a horse and led it out into the wide court while noone was paying attention. After passing the gates, though, he stood up in his stirrups and yelled: „Free at last!“ then gallopped down the dusty road as if the devil was persuing him.

James shook his head when, sitting in his chamber, talking to Blair, his sensitive hearing picked up the yell with no problem at all: „he should have become a comedian, not a page. Free at last - noone is going to fall for that.“ But that proved to be wrong because twenty minutes later the devil - or rather five of his soldiers - were persuing the lone rider who had managed to escape from the dungeon.

Bishop Silvestrius actually smiled - he was feeling a little better after all - as soon as this little whizard would be captured and in his hands again, he would be able to question the boy again - but this time nobody would be ready to free that little devil - because nobody would know that the magician even existed any longer. And then he would know his future... With another small satisfied smile the heavy-set man leaned back into his large chair and waved for his personal page to come closer. Time to celebrate a little in advance. He chose not to see the look of dread and disgust on his small page’s face.

Chapter 10

The next two days were a blur of sleep and ache and short visits of James to young Blair Sandburg. The boy, formerly known as Blare The Great, tended to his wounds whenever he woke up, some fresh water in a basin always waiting for him, as was a pot of salve and some clean bandages. At first his hands shook when he tried to clean himself up, but after another couple of hour’s rest and some soup that miraculously appeared next to the bed at some point, he started to feel a little better despite the bruises that turned into purple patches all over his body. Even the deepest cuts of the whip on his chest and his wrists, where he had been bound to the table, began to scab over and stopped hurting every time he thought about them. James kept looking in, but did not have the time to talk.

On the first afternoon, when Blair woke because the sun shone through the small window and tickled his nose, the tall Count checked in and sat down on the bed with a weary sigh.

„You don’t mind me sitting down on the mattress? It’s much more comfortable than a chair and I am so tired.“ he closed his eyes and rubbed his face with both hands. „I’d rather exercise with the troups than spend another hour in one of those hellish meetings with Silvestrius screaming for blood and the rest of us trying to organize food for onehundredthousand soldiers.“ The bedcloth rustled as Blair stiffened under his covers.

„There gonna be a war?“ the boy sounded very young and frightened all of a sudden.

Another sigh rose from James’ chest, a desperate, defeated note in his voice: „It seems we cannot avoid it. Rome seems to expect it as the king’s duty to fight the heathens in the Holy Land. But at least the fights won’t touch our land. Only our people....“

„Why can’t you avoid it? There must be a way... think of all the grief and hurt that ...“ Blair gestured animatedly, his breath hitching as his his tortured skin protested against the motion. Immediately James reached out, concern in his eyes, trying to quiet the young man:

„Now I just think about you hurting. Calm down - this is high politics and I have no say in it. And sometimes I think that not even the king has a means to object. Rome is just too powerful. As long as we cannot fight the pope - and this would be sacrilege and we all would end up in eternal fire, - we shall follow His wishes. Heavens, maybe I am already in deep trouble for just thinking that way...“

Blair reached out and gently rubbed the nearest of James’ tense shoulders with his less injured right hand. For a moment James seemed to relax and lean into the touch, then the tall man got up with a sigh and grabbed an apple from the plate on the table. He looked at the fruit as if in deep thought, then shook his head and straightened: „Please Blair, do me a favour. Stay in this room for now. I promise this is not a prison, but the danger from Silvestrius is not over yet. His men are still somewhere out there and so far he has not heard anything about your whereabouts. I want this to stay that way.“ He looked into Blair’s blue eyes just in time to see the young man pale. „Noone will dare to enter this room, believe this. You are safe as long as you are not leaving.“ Suddenly the young man grinned and his skin darkened in something close to a blush.

„Well, given the fact that I don’t own any clothes any longer, I’d say it is a safe bet that I’ll stay here. Even in this bed, if you let me.“ He tucked the blanket around his waist and yawned, missing the startled glance that crossed his Lordship’s face. The moment passed fast and James mumbled: „You should rest, again. Try to sleep - I’ll bring some food the next time I am able to slip away.“

Chapter 11

But the meeting did not want to end this time - it was well past midnight, when Ellison finally stepped into his room again. Carefully he set down another tray of food. He was exhausted. Hours of sitting in a drafty hall, arguing about how much bread each soldier would need to eat per day to keep fighting had drained him. Even though he had supported his king, the Bishop had different opinions and tried to cut down the expenses of food needed to sustain an army. Yet the holy man had seemed to be inordinately pleased. Every time his little page had given him a sheet of paper or served some wine, the Bishop had smiled a small, predatory grin that sent shivers down Ellison’s spine.

Finally the king had ended the fruitless discussion and sent them all sleeping. James had stopped in the kitchen for much needed snacks - and now he ws standing in front of his bed where a snoring bundle was buried under all the covers that had been in reach. Not that much of a surprise. It was early spring and the nights were still pretty cold. The thick walls held the chill better than the warmth and obviously the young man had not been able to keep the coalfire burning in the small basin next to the bed. With a sigh Ellison left the room again; In the kitchen he would be able to steal some hot coals. On his lone way through the sleeping castle he had to think about all the things he did for that little boy - well, not so little, after all - while cleaning the young man he had come to the conclusion that Blair had to be at least 20 years old - old enough to be married, to have children - certainly old enough to die on a battlefield. James did not question his motives - why he longed to help that young man really was not that important - as long as he was allowed to help at all.

The room grew warmer as soon as the coalfire was burning again despite the drafts that made the wall-tapestries move in an odd ghostlike rhythm. Still the snoring bundle on the bed clung to all the covers but James met no resistance when he finally slipped under the blankets too and captured one for himself. The only reaction of the second body was to scoot closer with a contented sigh. They stayed that way during a too short night. When the first rays of light found their way into the still dark room Ellison woke up, knowing that he had found peace in a time troubled by war and his own imperfections. Almost without realizing it, the knight memorized the way the young man at his side smelled, the way he looked like still sleeping peacefully, the way his skin warmed the blankets, the way his long locks felt to his touch. He made memories, moments to recall when his time would come, alone, battered, on some far-away battlefield, when noone would be there to show him friendship, when he would be dying alone. After a while he silently got up, dressed and left to meet his king. When the door of James’ room snapped shut, Blair Sandburg took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in his throat. With shaking fingers he combed through his unruly hair, trying to find the lock that had been caressed so recently. When he finally sat up in bed, he found a beautiful but simple grey tunic, and a dark blue shirt laid out at the foot of the mattress; A page’s uniform that would fit his slender form perfectly. When he reached out to touch the linnen he saw the sweaty stains of salve and dirt that covered his body. With renewd vigor he started to look for water and a towel to wash himself properly.

Ellison did not show up for the whole day. Some time in the afternoon the Bishop’s bloodhounds came back, and it seemed that the young scapegoat had been successful in his escape: They had not found him and had finally given up - not a wise decision judged by the Bishop’s outburst of rage that shook the whole castle. Silvestrius kept yelling until a servant brought the king’s order to quiet down. The shouting stopped, then; as did the negotiating about the oncoming crusade.

Still Blair knew he was not allowed to leave the room but, now wearing his shiny new clothes, he paced the small confines until some time later James burst in:

„He has no clue - they didn’t find my servant, so they think you escaped for good. You dont have to worry!“

James saw the relief in those expressive blue eyes and smiled reassuringly. To cheer up the young man even more he added - and tried to keep the grief and reluctance he felt out of his voice:

„As soon as you are fully recovered I shall give you a horse and some money so you can make it back to your family. They will be worried by now, and I am sure you would want to meet with them, too.“ There was a brief silence when Blair stopped pacing and turned to look at the tall man with the suddenly sad look in his hooded eyes. Slowly the young man shook his head:

„I think I do no longer have a family. I had to leave home because I am considered unclean. To be born without a known father was hard in the first place, but when they found out...“ his gaze swept over the chairs, table, coal-basin, bed, that had become a home to him. He almost missed James’ whispered question:

„...unclean? Do you have an ...illness?“ The dread in the tall man’s eyes was obvious but yet he stepped closer and touched the greenish bruises that were still clearly visible in Blair’s face. Yes, his Lordship was frightened at the prospect that he might have touched a man suffering from leprosy, but that would not change his need to reach out for the young man, to care for him as long as he was allowed to.

Blair leaned into the gentle caress, the heat of James’ hand soothing against his marred skin, and once again, smiled sadly, knowing what that honorable man meant and savouring the brave gesture all the more:

„Not leprosy, James, no. I merely fell in love with the wrong person which was not approved by the elders of our ghetto - or any other ghetto in the known world for that matter. So I left.“ Then he gathered his defensesand carefully butfast rebuilt his walls and showed a smile as false as his heart was weeping. „Being on the road was not that hard, though. And I love meeting new people. - As long as they don’t want me to predict the future..“ he laughed a bit and almost believed in his own cheerfulness. „Some of the people I met lately are really worth all the cold nights and the hungry days.“ His voice trailed off as he looked up into the stern face of his knight, all plane angles and strength and as he watched, the edges softened as blue eyes bore into his:

„For a little while longer I could give you shelter at night and food if this is what you whish. That is if you don’t mind the cramped quarters. As soon as we start the crusade, though...“

But Count Ellison never finished the sentence. Sandburg’s blinding grin that lit the whole room stopped him for good. He just didn’t have the heart to talk about gruesome war-details while the young man was so obviously happy again, the sadess wiped away from his face.

So for another week they fell into an easy pattern: The bed was big enough for both of them to sleep in - when asked, Sandburg told stories from the ghetto he used to live in while he was younger, when he had to share one mattress with three older brothers and most of the time ended up on the hard wooden floor. „Being small didn’t earn me pity, I am afraid.“ he grinned but James thought he could hear a sadness in his voice. And even though the jewish community was very tight-knitted and seemed to provide much protection when looked at fromthe outside it seemed to Ellison that it had not been easy for young Blair who had not known his father and whose mother had refused to marry again.

The days found James at meetings with his king and other knights and council-members. But when night fell and all the other men went to bed their women, James returned to his small room looking forward to talking to his newfound friend, knowing that he should free him already, but unable to just send him away. It was during one of those quiet evenings that Blair mustered all his courage and finally inquired why James did not have a woman to warm his blankets: „I mean, you obviously know how to pick them up, as you found one who was willing to distract the guard while you were coming for me.“

Startled by the inquiry James laughed: „But that was a woman I paid for, Blair - not one I wanted for myself. Though - I was supposed to marry once. But my fiancee decided that I was not the husband she was looking for. She sent back my ring and married another man.“ It was said in a light voice and for the first time it did not hurt to talk about it. It was the first time, too, that James could not remember the exact color of Caroline’s hair. Yet hefound he knew exactly what Blair’s locks looked like in the late afternoon sun. He grinned stupidly, but was interrupted in his musings by Sandburg’s gruff huff: „Well, her loss. Be glad you got rid of her before she was chained to your life for good.“

It was a funny expression for marriage and when James chuckled, it was an easy sound and came from his heart. Blair, though, remained thoughtful and closedlipped for the rest of the evening, but was restless for hours, when they finally went to sleep that night. It was not sooner than when Ellison accidentally brushed against the young man’s thigh with his arm, that the kid seemed to settle and finally get some much needed rest.

Chapter 12

When Sandburg got up the next morning, already alone in bed, it was the first time his bruises did no longer sting as if bathed in fire, and the room was no longer spinning when he sat up too fast. Sandburg took it as a sign to put on his new uniform and clean the mess that had been building during the last few days, when neither man had had the time nor the strength to do some housekeeping and the maids had been forbidden to enter the room in order not to discover the young victim before his most visible wounds had had the chance to heal.

While putting away some clothes after shaking and even folding them neatly - he shook his head at this sudden development of nesting instincts - the young man found a large trunk that had appeared after James’ soldiers had arrived at the castle. More than a little curious, he opened the lid and lifted a heavy lump of iron out of its depths, a finely crafted coat of mail unfolding itself in his grip. Awed he felt the weight of the armor, all glittering power and strength and he marvelled that this might be the only means of keeping his knight alive in the upcoming crusade. Passionately he hugged the metal against his chest. When he tried to put it back into the trunk he saw that his hands were stained by rust. Rust that would infect any small wound and could cause death, even if his knight was only suffering so much as a scratch. Fiercly the young man cleaned first his hands then his beautiful new uniform.

Finally he made up his mind. He pulled back his long hair, braiding and securing it with a leather band, then he smeared some ashes from the coal-basin on his face to cover the brightly colored bruises he still was sporting and slinked out of the room. He tried to find the castle’s armory and after a few wrong turns, one of them bringing him close to the Bishop’s quarters where he heard somebody pant and huff behind tightly closed doors, he ended up finding what he was looking for: a portable barrel with a handle, filled with fine white sand. If the cylinder was being turned at the right speed, the white sand would work like a thousand files getting rid of all the rust that would weaken a coat of mail. It took the young man almost none of his persuasive skills; Just to get rid of him one of the smiths lent him one of the barrels and when Ellison came back to his room that evening, his armor looked like new and was shining as if made of silver.

„This had to take you hours - and where did you get the equipment needed?“ James barked - he suddenly saw the young man at the Bishop’s mercy again and his heart constricted.

„It did - take me hours and I borrowed a barrel - nobody saw me, I took great care to go unseen.“ He decided not to mention just how close to the Bishop’s rooms he had been. „You are going to need this and it is a page’s duty to take care of your armor.“ he waited a moment, for an outburst of anger that did not come then he added silently: „I wanted to show my gratitude, because I want you to know that whatever I might do from now on, will not be gratitude at all.“ It was a bit cryptic and James arched a brow at the statement, but he was too relieved that Blair had not been caught to pay much attention. Gruffly he said: „I do not want your gratitude as it was partly my fault that you ended up in Silvestrius’ grasp in the first place.“

„What do you want from me, James?“ Sandburg held his breath but James answered fast and almost without thinking while he was already undressing and filling a basin with fresh water:

„Your forgiveness. I could have been able to stop what had happened to you in the Great Hall, but I did not think it would be necessary. I will never forgive myself - but if you could look at me as a friend I would forever owe you a debt of gratitude.“ Vigorously and without looking at the young man James cleaned himself. He missed the look of longing in Blair’s gaze while the young man watched the heavy muscles ripple under clear skin with those every-day movements. Sandburg swallowed and his voice was a little deeper than ususal:

„You are forgiven - nothing that happened had been your fault - you owe me nothing - you saved me and gave me a place to sleep and comforted me when I was afraid. You treated me like an equal even though you knew I was but a comedian. You reinstated my pride. I...“ he broke off to fetch a fresh towel and hold it out for the knight. Their fingers touched when James reached out for the cloth and neither one of them wanted to break the connection that seemed to build and sizzle between them. Then his Lordship shivered in the cold evening breeze and the moment was gone and Blair brought cheese and fruits and bread to their table for dinner.

Later James added some more coals to the iron basin so that the heat would last through the night. The young man was already burrowed under the blankets when the tall Count slipped into bed too and got ready to snuff the candle. For a long moment he actually thought about keeping the light so that he would be able to continue just looking at his almost sleeping friend but then he decided to try and use his cursed senses. They had seemed to be an evil gift for so long - now he felt they should serve him for once, even if that would mean that he would fall into the dreaded greyness again. But then the last thing he would remember would be the young man’s face so that would not be that frightening, now would it?

He blew out the small flame and immediately was assaulted by the pungeant suffocating smell of sickly sweet melted bees-wax and burnt wick while his sight was trained on the slowly unfolding cloud of darkgrey smoke that curled upwards to the high ceiling and made his throat ache from its scratchy scent that signalled danger. Panicking James sat up straight and coughed desperately, hoping to somehow spit out the harsh scent that seemed to enfold him.

Blair was up only a moment later. The young man grabbed Ellison’s shoulders from behind with both hands and maintained contact while another round of coughing cramps racked the hard body of his friend. „What happened?? James, I cannot see a thing, what happened to you? How am I supposed to help?“

James desperately sucked in a breath only to cough again, his eyes watering from the stinging smoke only he was aware of. „Smoke!“ he managed to press out before his lungs contracted again.

„Yes, from the candle. Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon - turn over to look at me, it’s not as intense where I am sitting.“ and even though Blair still only saw a large black bulk that wheezed and had trouble breathing in the darkness of night he managed to push James until the tall man was able to bury his nose in Sandburg’s hair to filter out any smoke that still might have tainted the room’s air.

Breathing became easier the moment Blair had touched his shoulders with his bare hands. It became a joy when James was able to smell the fragrant scent of those locks that had fascinated him for so long now. With a small smile the Count gave himself into the embrace the young man had initiated. For an embrace it was, sweet and comforting and tender and although James was not sure if this would be welcomed he slowly lifted his hands until Blair was trapped in the circle of his arms. Blair sighed, his breath a soft caress against James’ neck, and relaxed against a broad chest. A rueful chuckle accompanied the young man’s words:

„I do not ever want this to end. But what happened with you a minute ago. You scared me Mylord.“ The title sounded like an endearment and James found himself responding to the quiet question. The dark vice made it almost impossible not to answer and answer with the truth.

„Sometimes I suffer from a curse. I am sensitive to sounds or light or smells to the point where I fall into a seizure.“ The tall man groped for words to explain the unexplainable. „Then, sometimes, I am able to see farther than any man, or hear through walls or smell like a bloodhound.“

Still clinging to the tall man, Sandburg did not move when he thought about this new information about this knight. Finally he said: „But that is a gift - your senses. They can be used to your advantage - it is not a curse - how did you manage not to get a seizure this time? If you could repeat that, you won’t be in danger in the future...“

He felt more than he actually saw James shake his head. „I do not know this. I think it was you touching me - the scent of your hair, the feel of your warmth and suddenly the smell of burnt wick was no longer oppressive. This never happened before, though. Until now I always had one of those episodes. I could never stop them. So I tried to never use those cursed senses.“ Again he buried his nose in the young man’s curls, using his illness as an excuse to be close to his friend. Who seemed to smile against his chest while thinking aloud: „Well, so I have to stay close to you - I can do that.“ Something came back from the depths of his brain. „But why did you use your senses tonight at all?“ Did he just imagine this or did the tall man’s skin feel warmer all of a sudden? No - James’ voice sounded different when he mumbled close to Blair’s neck:

„ The war is to start soon - I shall be with the first group of soldiers that boards a few weeks from now. And I do not want you to be in any danger so you will have to leave me for good. Tonight I wanted to make memories.“

Puzzled Blair looked up where he knew James’ face was looming in the darkness. „How would you have made memories?“ Somehow the young man was quite certain that this honorable man did not mean what he wanted him to mean. He was not disappointed. Quietly, embarrassed but honest James found the courage, while he was held in gentle arms, to answer:

„I would have smelled you and looked at you while you slept. So that you would never leave me in my dreams. It would be enough - maybe you won’t mind now that you know...“ he begged for so little and Blair was willing to give so much more.

„Would lighting a candle hurt your eyes?“ Blair whispered, hoping, then not daring to hope yet, but James eagerly complied, so eager in fact, that the young man almost fell off the bed, because the strong arms that had supported him were missing all of a sudden, Ellison being busy producing a small flame that soon cast dancing shadows on the walls of their small room. Sandburg watched the tall man, the way he moved in his clean white linnen shirt, and he held up the blanket when Ellison slipped back under the covers. „I really would like to help you make some memories, James. I could use some memories, too...“ It sounded good and it seemed to be the right thing to say because the tall knight relaxed, his intent gaze never leaving the young man sitting crosslegged on the mattress, covered in the blanket, barechested, showing off lots of curly fur that covered his upper body.

„I wonder, what this feels like...“ James murmured almost not noticing that he had said it aloud. There was so much longing in his voice, yet he did not reach out. Blair smiled, no longer aware of the sting in his split lip.

„Why don’t you touch it? So you could memorize the feel?“ A little surprised and curious Ellison turned to his side, propped his head onto his arm and finally, as if he had to concentrate, to will his body into motion, reached out to touch the crisp curls on his friend’s chest.

„They are soft - and springy.“ He had to describe what he felt to believe that he was allowed to touch, that his friend was leaning into this touch, enjoying it.

„You are so gentle, your fingers so tender“, the young voice was awed and now Ellison had to smile a little. James was almost startled when Blair took his hand and brought it up to his face, nuzzling into the palm of his suddenly cold hand, brushing a featherlight kiss into fingers that tried to lose themselves in long curly hair. Later, James could never remember if he had been the one who urged Blair closer or if the young man had inched closer and his hand had just followed. But suddenly the young man - truly a magician - was lying next to him, face to face, tracing his knight’s cheekbones with one finger of his left hand, saying: „This is a memory I want to savour...“

And then Blair leaned even closer and with gentle lips touched his mouth and lingered there and to his shock James found himself moaning and shivering at the wonderful sensation. Cold air hit his bare skin when loop after loop was loosened by nimble fingers, the ribbons that held his shirt giving way and strong hand rubbed his tense muscles, the wide expanse of his chest. James was still holding on to the young man’s neck, even more so as Blair now found a hardened nipple and suddenly abandoned his trembling lips to slowly kiss a trail down his neck and James turned his head to give him better access, to feel better, to make him linger there, right there. He never had felt like this before, and suddenly to Ellison his past life seemed empty and shallow, his future full of pain without this man and only the presence filled with color and joy and ... he almost yelled for Blair had licked his ear, then gently blew his breath over it and it felt like Blair’s lips had felt on his mouth and he did not know what he liked best for there could be nothing that felt better and then Blair’s lips closed over James’ nipple and warmed it and nibbled at it in the most gentle way and this time James did yell and Blair grabbed a piece of the blanket that they had already shucked off and stuffed it into his mouth.

Then suddeny, the young man sat up, full of concern, and asked a little breathlessly: „I did not hurt you, did I? I just forgot how sensitive...“

Ellison bit down on the blanket then yanked it out of his mouth: „No, not hurt. Just, good!“ He realized belatedly that this was neither a sentence nor did it make sense, so he willed himself to calm down: „You did not hurt me - I just never knew that anything could feel that good. I am sorry if I startled you but ... please“ He found himself begging for something - and did not even know what he was begging for while he was writhing on the mattress, shivering, though not from the cold. For a moment Blair looked at him with startled eyes, then the young man sighed and let himself be urged closer again, James’ hand heavy in his neck, arousing and commanding in its innocence.

„James, have you ever done this before?“ There was something akin to disbelief in Sandburg’s voice and Ellison hurried to respond, afraid that a missed answer would end the wonderful touches he craved already: „Never this. But I do like it... please?“ He added pleadingly, embarrassed now, that he did not even know what he was asking for, hoping that the young whizard would know how to continue, willing to give himself over to whatever would be offered.

„Are you sure, Mylord?“ Again, the title caressed James as an endearment would and the knight nodded, eager to please and to be pleased. And even though he watched, sensations caught him by surprise when Blair gently kissed his nipple again, licking it, sucking it until it was a hard, aching pebble of living desire. James grabbed for his blanket to gag himself again, barely holding back a growl. The blanket shifted, slid aside, taking half of his opened shirt with it as it fell to the ground. Blair - to give him credit - really tried to catch the falling cover. Then he gasped. He had seen the knight naked before - the tall man had cleaned himself in front of him, uninhibited but modest, mostly turning away as not to flaunt himself to his inspection. But now that same knight was lying on his back on the mattress, his shirt merely covering his arms, his body glistening in the light of their one candle, his manhood thick and hard and throbbing. Biting down on that ridiculous blanket, his eyes closed, his breath coming in harsh pants.

„James,“ Blair rubbed the washboard-stomach soothingly and waited until those eyes opened for him and looked and saw him again. „I want to touch you ... there. Would you like that?“

Again the tall knight just nodded, anticipation and fear warring in his handsome face. And Blair could feel the other man’s hand in his neck tremble. He shifted, ruthlessly pressing down on his own arousal and slowly, oh so slowly kissed the sensitized nipple of his innocent lover again. His fingers found the second tit and he tweaked it, coaxing it into hardness. The hand in his neck suddenly pressed, urging him over and he complied, smiling. And when his lips found the hard pebble, his hand gently closed over the hard shaft of his knight, holding the cock that suddenly jumped and trembled and leaked fluid. With a soft hum that could have been a purr Sandburg suckled and nibbled at his lover’s nipple while he fisted the hot, living rod, pumping it with sure strokes. The hand in his neck clenched almost painfully but Sandburg did no longer pay attention. The shivers that racked James’ body trembled through him, too and the muffled cries and pants sent his own nerves screaming and ignited his blood.

The young man could feel the mighty body of his lover tense, iron muscles suddenly hard as stone, James’ skin full of goosebums and he drew himself up and - with his teeth - grabbed the blanket and yanked it off Ellison’s mouth. But before the startled knight could scream, Blair dove down and silenced James’ sensitive lips with a passionate kiss, his tongue diving into the hot cavern, his grip on James’ cock tightening. For a splitsecond Blair felt the hard organ swell and stiffen further, then nature took over and Ellison’s hips pumped upwards, the cock spitting creamy spurts of bloodwarm white come.

There was this heavy, heady scent of sex in the air and then James was kissing Blair back and sucking on his tongue and he pressed the young man against his sated body with both arms, groaning aloud, and it was too much all of a sudden when Blair’s hard member rubbed against his lover’s thigh and he could no longer help it, he exploded all over the tall knight, his come hot and sticky between their bodies.

The terrified voice of James Ellison was hanging between them like an unsheathed sword, dangerous and frightening: „God - what have we done?“

Chapter 13

Blair was too sated to react at once, his body relaxed on top of his lover, his mind still wrapping itself around the fact that this marvellous knight had just given him the gift of his body, when the panicked voice efficiently startled him out of his dreamy contentedness. „What do ..?“ he broke off, when James, with utter gentleness, yet determined, pushed him off and laid him back onto the mattress, than sat up stiffly, and gathered the flaps of his night-shirt around him. The linnen stuck to the sticky evidence of their passion, and James absentmindedly rubbed at the patch where their semen had soaked through the fabric. Numbly he looked at his hand, damp from the liquid, then, slowly, he slipped off the bed and sank to his knees. „I have sinned.“ Blair scrambled closer on the mattress, covering himself with the blanket so as not to offend his desperate friend, trying to come up with some kind of comfort, but his mind failed him for once. He had not thought, had only done what felt right to him. That making love, feeling their passion rise would unsettle this honorable man, had not once occured to him. Now he hated himself for getting swept away and for a moment he would have given anything to go back in time. And then he hated himself a little more because he suddenly knew that he never, ever would go back in time to undo what had been done. Too much had he loved the gentle touches, the kiss, the feel of James’ skin.

„James, - I am sorry. Not for what we have done, but that you have to feel guilty about us...“ He did not dare to touch the tense shoulders of his knight, who was still kneeling on the cold floor, facing away from their bed, facing away from him, Blair, not responding at all. Just when the young man feared that Ellison had fallen into one of his episodes, James whispered: „I have let you pleasure me. I have seduced you and dragged you down to hell with me.“ He choked on his words, then added fervently: „You, the only person I have ever met who has not wanted anything but give friendship to me. I shall burn in hell for my failure, yet I cannot regret what I have done. But knowing that I took you down with me will be my true punishment.“

At first Blair did not understand, the concept of eternal damnation foreign to his beliefs, so he said what sprang into his mind: „Well, at least we shall be together.“ He felt an answering chuckle, an unhappy small sound that seemed to hurt James’ throat. Finally Blair gradually relaxed again - this was not disgust or hate speaking, this was love, even though it came in the disguise of one too many lessons of a bitter priest who never had learned the many faces love could take on. He scooted over until he was sitting on the bed just behind his kneeling knight, and carefully reached out for his love. He knew that his hands would feel warm to James’ chilled flesh when he embraced the tall man from behind, leaning his face into James’ neck. He sighed, deliberately blowing his hot breath across the tiny hairs, shorn short ot acommodate a helmet, and watched as they goosebumped immediately. He felt a small shiver tingle over Ellison’s skin. „Since I have been sent away from my people I have seen many places. I saw Dancing Stones that were singing in the storm, and trees older than time. I saw the beauty of a bird flying high in the sky and the strength of an ant that carried a twig ten times its size. And what I saw convinced me that God is love. And He shares this love on occasion. And feeling, acting this love is the closest a human can come to seeing God. I never saw Him punishing anything, anyone for loving.“ He held his breath, desperately hoping that he had chosen the right words, words that would convince his knight, that they hadn’t broken any sacred laws by making love to each other. Suddenly James’ hands were covering Blair’s intertwined fingers that rested on Ellison’s chest:

„But you have been exiled by your people for loving the wrong person, Blair. How can you still believe that love will not lead to punishment?“ There was a little hope and a little incredulousness as James asked this, as if he wanted to be convinced to believe in a loving deity, too. Hoping against hope.

„I was ostracized by people, James, by the laws made by people. I never received a sign of God, though. But I have received true friendship from people who made my life worth living again.“ Suddenly the young man sounded much older than his true age. He was still leaning against the knight’s strong back so he heard the tall man swallow while the grip on his hands tightened.

„Do you think I could make your life worth living, Blair?“

„You already have, Mylord.“ he admitted somberly, never letting his embrace weaken.

„That is truly good,“ Ellison sounded as if tears were strangling his voice, but not one was shed while the proud man continued: „because a touch of your hand,“ and once again his grip on Blair’s fingers tightened almost painfully, „is more to me than any clerical threat might ever be.“

The young man could hear and feel the knight’s heart pounding and he knew that this heart had just been given to him and all he could think of was that he would never ever give it back. Gently he kissed James’s neck, carefully, tenderly while he thought for a vow, a blessing, an answer but all he could think of was:

„Please James, get off the cold ground and let me warm you up again.“ And the kneeling man chuckled and it sounded so much happier than before and the sound warmed Blair’s heart and suddenly he said - and didn’t even have to think about it: „You’ll always be first on my mind.“ It seemed to be the right thing to say, because James did finally release his hands and got up from the floor to slip back into bed and he gathered Blair close so that they could fall asleep body to body, sharing their heat and maybe even a dream.

They woke at the same time the next morning, Jim sure that he had heard a large cat growling, Blair convinced there had been a wolf howling in the distance. The sun had just come up and they felt warm and safe under the covers of their blankets. With something akin to wonder James stared at the young man who was nestled next to him, then tenderly touched the fading marks the bruises had left in Blair’s face.

„I’ve never felt anything like last night, not even with Caroline. I am still not sure if I deserve so much happiness, though.“ A crooked smile lit up Blair’s sleepy features, and the young man turned to plant a small kiss on Jim’s hand that couldn’t seem to stop stroking his cheek.

„Neither did I, James. Nothing I ever saw prepared me for that much joy.“ He shifted and bent his leg to acommodate his morning erection, trying to act not as blatant as he felt.

„But I thought you said you loved before?“ There was no jealousy or hurt in Ellison’s question, just mild curiosity which gave Blair the strength to answer truthfully:

„I was in love before and it got me in deep trouble. It was worth it, though, yet even then it seemed as if I kept searching for something more, something elusive;“ He shrugged, not dismissing the fact but dismissing the topic.

„What happened to your love back then?“ Then, maybe James did not want to dismiss the topic yet, Blair thought and answered:

„He stayed with his family to marry the girl the procurer had chosen for him. I hear they match perfectly, they are producing lots of jewish children...“ Now there was a little sadness in his voice but again he shrugged it off, when James sighed:

„And you were on your own.“

„Don’t pity me James. Remember I could have stayed too, getting married, but I chose to see the world in search for what had eluded me.“ To end the topic the young man started to gently seek out the secret pleasure-spots on the tall knight’s chest, grinning when Ellison shivered as his hand touched powerful abs and caressed them lightly. Already a little breathless the Count murmured:

„And have you found it, that elusive something?“ then closed his eyes as Blair’s fingers brushed over an eager nipple that turned into hardness at the touch.

„I’d like to think so...“ Blair’s voice was throaty and a little breathless too, and he crept closer until he was leaning over the tall knight, his fingers busy opening loops, so that he could touch all that marvellous skin still hidden under the nightshirt. When his hands were roaming the hard planes of muscled chest the panting knight was arching upwards into the touch and slipping off his nightshirt.

„Soo goood, never knew a simple touch could be so good!“ he moaned disjointedly, writhing under the gentle caresses.

„You can touch me, too, James, I like what you like...“ Ellison knew that the imp was grinning even without looking at the dear face and he tried to concentrate enough to follow that order. He reached up and carded his fingers through the rich chesthair, finally finding a hardened nipple and pinching it. Blair growled, the sound almost animallike and for a second, James was afraid that he had hurt his young lover with his inexperienced clumsyness. Then he felt the kid’s cock harden even more, the organ pulsing where it lay pressed against his thigh. Experimentally he pinched once more and was rewarded with another growl and another jerk of Blair’s cock. Grinning with his newfound knowledge, Ellison kept his attention focused on the small, hard nipples, almost forgetting his own excitement over the urge to pleasure the young man.

But Blair would not have any of this. With the skills of a true magician Sandburg’s hands found the rigid abdomen, then forcefully grabbed the slender hips of his strong lover, his thumbs teasing the tender skin where groin met thighs and it was James’ turn to moan again. Slowly the young man bent down, a little hesitantly at first, then with more courage, as he felt the tall man who was watching him closely, stiffen under him. He sniffed at what little pubic hair was growing there, then licked at the already hard balls, where heat and smell was most intense. With awe he watched the large hard cock jerk at the soft touch, clear fluid leaking out of it and smearing the sensitive purple head, and this time he licked the proud cock that seemed to burst out of its foreskin. The tall knight was not moving at all, moaning and panting all the time and clenching the bedcovers to keep himself from grabbing the young man. Who was licking James’ wonderful cock again and again, finally taking the hard rod into his gentle fist and blowing over the wet head. He felt the shivers that cursed through Ellison’s body and smiled:

„That new to you?“ Blair panted, grinning when the only answer was an unintelligible „uhnhuu!“ and another growl.

And then he swallowed the purple cock-head, swirling his tongue delicately around it, using the tip of his tongue to slip under the foreskin and tease the glans there. A stream of encouragement now accompanied every one of his moves as he started to suck the hard organ and pump it at the same time. When Blair cupped James’ sack with his left hand, the knight parted his legs to give him better access and Blair would have smiled devilishly, hadn’t his mouth been full of James’ cock and thus busy. Palming the soft scrotum, one of his fingers found its way down the sweaty cleft and for the first time touched the puckered hole hidden there. James almost closed his legs at the tender assault but a change in the rhythm of licking and sucking made him forget to become body-conscious.

Blair started to moan a little, the vibrations softly massaging James’ hot cock and the tall man growled again, wanting to prolongue the sensation yet knowing that this would be over too soon if he was not distracted from feeling heavenly. The finger was back rubbing over his hole and Ellison found himself enjoying the odd sensation. Almost without realizing it, he let his hips pump upwards minutely, trying to encourage the mouth on his cock as well as the finger on his ass. And then the finger, slick with probably spit or sweat, dove in - it was penetrating him, was inside him, breaching a muscle, reaching deep and it seemed to be so BIG and he squirmed to get away from this feeling filled like that but each movement seemed to push that finger deeper inside. And while Blair started sucking on his cock in earnest now, the finger in his ass pumped in and out, the fire of pain melting into a fire of passion and James did no longer know how to react to what when and the slurps seemed to grow obscenely LOUD and the heat emanating from Blair seemed to be so HOT and then the young man rammed this one finger deep deep deep inside him and it felt like lightening all of a sudden and he thought he screamed but out came a croaked groan and James jerked upwards into that hot, wet mouth and held perfectly still, while the finger still danced in his ass and Blair’s mouth sucked his cock and he was COMING, arched off the mattress in a perfect bow and Blair was swallowing whatever spewed out of his living cock and he had really really never felt anything like that ever ever before.

James flopped back down onto the mattress, the bed shaking with his exhaustion and watched as his lover sat up and straddled his hips, the blanket finally slipping off the young body. He still could see the traces of the whip but Blair did no longer seem to feel any pain. The boy’s hard cock was jutting upwards proudly, pointing crookedly at Ellison’s face. Sandburg’s voice was dark and smokey but demanding, his pupils clouded with passion as he begged:

„Please, James, touch me, anywhere, just please...“ and Ellison complied eagerly, his large hands, calloused from practicing with the heavy longsword, surprisingly gentle when they caressed the young man’s hard thighs. James hesitated for a moment when he reached the throbbing genitals, then his curiosity won and he cupped his young lover’s sac. Almost instantly Blair began to rock into the touch, leaning forward to brace himself against James’ strong shoulders. His long hair flowed down, brushing over the knight’s sweaty face, each curl a seperate caress and he heard James moan sensuosly.

„Please, James, don’t stop now“ The breathless plea reached the knight even though his body was sated and content beyond belief. He squeezed Blair’s balls, aware of the fluid that was already dripping off the younger man’s dick. With the back of one finger he followed the trace of precum up to the engorged head, revelling in the long outdrawn moan the kid could not contain any longer. With a little more confidence he grabbed the hard, rippled length, fisting it gently and carefully pumping it, very aware all of a sudden that this cock did indeed look different from his own, because it was cut, felt different than his own because it was another man’s cock he was obviously giving pleasure here and he tightened his grip a little more. With a harsh gasp Blair rocked harder, panting, his face contorted in passion, his voice almost an octave lower than usual, sounding sexy and not at all like Blair any more:

„good, so hot, pump it, faster - let me COME!“ And Ellison reacted to that sexy sound - even though he did not know what exactly he should say, he whispered:

„Yes, want to see you come, give it to me!“ And Sandburg arched back and suddenly opened his eyes and looked straight at Ellison’s face and pumped his hips two more times and with the second thrust into James’ fist he silently came, his cum shooting all over the knight who jerked, startled, when a thick, creamy dollop of white semen hit him in the face. He did not wipe it away right then, though. He waited until the last drop of cum had dribbled out of the deflating penis and a relaxed Blair Sandburg collapsed on top of him. Then, as he tried to grab a towel to clean himself, the young whizard propped himself up on his elbows and dove in for a long kiss, not accidentally licking his own cum off the knight’s face before claiming James’s lips in passion.

Chapter 14

When he drew back finally, leaving the knight looking slightly dazed, Blair smiled almost shyly, asking more timid than James would have thought he could:

„Now, James, is this the way you wanted to make memories?“ It took James some thinking - a task not easy while his brain still had a good time remembering what they had just been doing - until he remembered the way all the lovemaking had started.

„No Blair, this was not the way I wanted to make memories“, he sighed after a while. When the young man’s face fell he hastily added, catching Sandburg before he could scramble off the bed.

„Stay with me - please. You do not understand. I never thought I would be blessed enough to feel such wonders. Now that you have shown me ...“ he struggled to find words to express what he felt and failed, shrugging helplessly, hoping that the young man would understand.

„Now I am afraid that I will lose my honor, because I no longer want to die for my king. This crusade - I might not survive the battle for the Holy Land. And I’ll die in desperation because now I know what my life could have been, if I had found you sooner.“ James’ voice trailed off, defeated, now that he had admitted that forbidden love - and for a man, to make things worse - was more to him than fulfilling his oath to his king.

„But James, nobody wants this crusade except the church.“ Blair tried to reason with the stubborn honorable man he was still straddling, speaking with urgency to convince his lover. „No promised riches can make up for the money that has to be spent in advance, the soldiers that have to be equipped with weapons and horses. Not to mention the countless deaths. Before I came to the king’s castle I travelled the countryside - and all the peasants were aware of the dangers of this upcoming war. They are less then pleased, most of them think, that Bishop Silvestrius should fight the wars of the church without the help of the king. Tell your king this - even though he might not want to hear it. I can testify to that.“

There was a light gleaming in the young man’s eyes, a conviction that this already illfated crusade might be stopped before it had even started. And even Count Ellison did feel better - at least a little bit. Quietly he got up, the sun reminding him of another morning he had to spend with the king’s council. With short, efficient movements he cleaned himself with cold water, then donned his weapons shirt and grabbed a piece of grey-bread for breakfast.

„Did I offend you, Mylord?“ Sandburg was still sitting on their bed, covered only with a blanket.

The tall knight looked up, then finally made up his mind and answered, his hesitation obvious: „Not offended, Blair - you never could offend me - but you gave me food for thought. This is indeed something I would want to discuss with King Rafius. He might lend me his ear.“ He shrugged vaguely, „I hope - if not, I do not know what to do - for the first time in my life.“ Again he sighed, then reached out to touch Blair’s long curls, unruly after a night’s sleep and alive to his fingers’ sensitivity. When Sandburg moved his head to encourage the small caress James swallowed:

„Do you mind this?“

„I would only mind if you’d stop, James!“ Blair’s smile was even in his voice, it sent sparks to his eyes and a hitch into his breath. Ellison shook his head in amazement, answering the smile slowly, as if unsure if his lips would remember how to curve upwards. „Why are you smiling, James...“ Blair spoke lowly, not breaking the spell the two men had been creating with the small touch.

„Caroline always moved away when I tried to touch her face. you give into my slightest graze. She used to say that a man has to earn her trust to touch her.“

„You did, James. I trust you with my life.“ James’ eyes widened slightly, then, carefully, lovingly, he traced Blair’s earlobe with his fingertip and was rewarded with a soft sigh. His sensitive hearing picked up on the young man’s heartbeat that was slightly elevated at the caress. He was jerked back into reality when Sandburg inquired with a voice only a little bit husky: „ Are you going to need my testimony at today’s meeting? I could dress as your page again and ...“

James interrupted immediately: „What if Silvestrius recognizes you? I do not want to put you in this kind of danger!“

„He won’t - the first time he saw me was in the large hall, in the light of some torches, dressed like a magician, my hair open. I do not think he remembers me that well. The second time he saw me, I ‘d already been tortured, my face was a bloody mess and again the lighting was bad. He will not remember me.“ Sandburg shrugged it off nonchalantly.

„But your hair was open - he’ll remember that locks...“ Again James reached to touch the curls that seemed to call for him.

Blair chuckled a little: „James, just because you love to play with my hair, does not mean that everybody else will think it is memorable. I shall pull it back, braid it, then stuff it under the page’s beret. You might need me, James.“

The tall powerful knight realized that he had no power at all to deny his young lover anything. „So get dressed and stay behind my back. And pray to whichever god you use to pray - that Silvestrius is blinded by your appearance.“

„Mylord, I do not think the Bishop will even pay a second glance at me.“ Blair mumbled while he scrambled into his uniform, then with the help of some water got his hair under tight control, „He’ll be too occupied to watch out for the little monk that is always with him.“ Finishing the braid, he wrestled it under his beret, then tugged at his tunic and fastened the belt. And James looked at a different man. So different in fact that he almost forgot what said man had said just moments ago.

„The little monk? What do you imply, Blair?“ Ellison rubbed at a small stain of rust on his *page’s* uniform while asking.

„I do not imply anything. I just say that he looks at the boy with more interest a member of the church should have for a fellow celibate monk... But then, I could be wrong - I do not exactly like that man.“ Blair said it matter-of-factly and Ellison could not resist the urge to hug the young man close, dislocating the beret during the hard embrace. When he released his young lover, the cap sat precariously lop-sided and made Sandburg look even younger and a bit silly. Ellison couldn’t help laughing, then straightened the beret again with loving hands.

„Yes, that is the right thing to do, Mylord: First make me look ridiculous, then laugh at me..“ But Blair said it good-naturedly, the smile never leaving his voice, while he trudged on, staying behind the tall knight all the way into the large council-hall.

Chapter 15

Blair Sandburg, acting like a good little page, standing behind the highbacked seat of his Lordship, trying to blend into the wall, was very proud of his master: James, Lord Ellison, Member of the High Council, used all his knowledge and influence to change their fate. It was a lost cause from the beginning. Bishop Silvestrius tensed up, his sly, puny face darkening when he realized that most of the council-members started to nod their approval.

„So, Ellison: You afraid of some heathens now? Your courage seems to end as soon as there is more at stake than words.“ He sneered and Ellison turned white as a linnen sheet. Without seeing it, Blair knew that his Lord’s cheeks were dancing, a nervous muscle betraying the calm exterior of the tall knight. One of the council-members, a well-respected survivor of two wars and father of two sons, spoke up to James’ defense: „If telling the truth means getting accused of cowardly behaviour this will be the end of this council.“ But he was silenced by another icey gaze from an enraged Bishop who hissed: „But this is the truth of cowards - it is common knowledge, that those heathens do not know how to use the sword or the bow. Our christian soldiers can race through spain and find riches beyond belief there. The moors, dispisable heathens, too, are not likely to show resistance. So everyone boarding the ships to the Holy Land will already be a wealthy man.“ There was a gleam in Silvestrius’ eyes that made Sandburg shiver. The young man bent forward and whispered, knowing that his knight would catch his words with his sensitive hearing:

„He is lying. The moors are already preparing for the fight. They have heard rumors just as I did. I was there not two months ago. They are known for their superior weaponry and their bravery. Tell the council. Please.“ James nodded and once again tried to change their course of action. In vain.

On that day it was set that a first vanguard led by James, Lord Ellison, was to leave for spain in another week; this being the first step in their crusade to free the Holy Land, soon to be followed by the regular army that should not meet any resistance on the way to Jerusalem. A highly satisfied Bishop breezed out of the large all in search of some lunch, leaving the council members to themselves. Two of the men congratulated Ellison - they seemed to envy him his luck that he was allowed to deal with those heathens before everyone else could. Blair Sandburg stood behind his knight and was as pale as the wall. He felt as if the ground beneath his feet had just disappeared and he was in freefall straight to hell. He jerked out of his desperate musings when a slender hand touched his shoulder. Next to his side there was the little monk who almost never was allowed to leave the Bishop’s side. Calm, indescribably sad dark eyes looked at him under long lashes and then a soft voice whispered:

„You should go as long as you are able to. *He* is very angry at your Lord.“ Blair stared into those sad dark eyes and shrug defeatedly:

„We cannot leave now. The knight has to fight for his king. There is no way out now and you know it. Whatever happens, happens.“

The small monk, looking too young to wear the tonsure already, raised his hand and gently touched the faded mark on Blair Sandburg’s face, where the young magician had been tortured mere weeks ago. „I know who you are. You of all people should know the value of life. Take the knight to safety. *He* is planning something evil.“ Then, as silently as he had come, the little monk was gone again, running to catch up with the Bishop who most likely was already looking for him.

Ellison, still standing across the room, listening to something the king said, turned briefly, his eyebrow almost touching his hair. Blair who had caught him looking, just shrugged.

Later that day, when they were alone in their room again, James, not likely to forget the encounter, brought up the topic again, while they were sitting on the bed, seeking closeness, a comforting touch to ease the terrible pain that enveloped them:

„The little monk - did you understand his riddles, Blair?“

Sandburg, leaning into his knight’s embrace, sighed: „I do not think of them as riddles at all, James. The monk warned us - Silvestrius is onto something, even if we and the monk do not know what this is. I would love to talk some reason into you, so that you would run for your castle and be safe. But because I love you I shall not do so. You might want to give into my begging and even thinking this way would break your proud heart.“ The arms holding Blair closer tightened their grip and the young man knew that he had seen into his knight’s soul. He kissed the part of James’ shirt that was easiest accessible to his lips - it was the small coat of arms, embroidered on the weapon-shirt James had been wearing the whole day. Then he continued with a sigh: „So all I say is: Let us go where we have to go, fight bravely and survive, so that we can return home and build a life.“

„No.“ The word was harsh in the afternoon sun, breaking the peaceful setting they had created for each other. Blair went rigid.

„What do you mean: No??“ There was a note of panic in his voice. „You do not want to be with me any longer, don’t want to build a life with me?“ The last Blair said almost matter-of-factly, trying to rebuild walls around himself, before he took a deep breath and continued rapidly:

„I am sorry, James - I assumed too much. I will watch out for you in the battles then, and after we have fought those heathens, I shall leave - do not worry, I like travelling...“ The young man was silenced with a small kiss planted on his lips when he least suspected it. Then Ellison said:

„You got me all wrong. What I meant to say was I shall not endanger you. On our way to Spain we have to pass Salisbury. Just a few miles from the town is my home. I shall take you there, leave you with my brother Steven. That way I have a reason to stay alive, a reason to come home again. To refreshen those memories we are making.“ Another kiss made Blair’s lips tingle.

„But you are going to need me in battle. I could guide you, help you during one of your episodes. You. Are. Going. To. Need...“ Another kiss, a whispered no, and then James’ hands were slipping under the grey garment to touch his lover’s naked skin. A low groan escaped the young man’s throat.

„This discussion is not over, James.“ Blair insisted, but for once he was wrong. The discussion was over before it had even started. James loosened the loops and slipped his page’s uniform off muscled shoulders, while his lips followed the elegant line of Blair’s neck. A lick at a certain spot made Blair cringe in pleasure and there were goosebums all over the young man’s skin. Gently James urged his young lover to lie down on the bed, his hands roaming over the bared furry chest, tickling already hardenend nipples.

„I want to feel your skin, James!“ The breathy plea did not go unheard. The tall man yanked down his clothes and while dropping them carelessly over a wooden chair, he watched while Blair writhed out of his long shirt he wore as underwear, too. The young man’s sex was already standing tall, the circumcised head engorged, clear liquid oozing out of the small slit.

When James did not move, Sandburg focused his gaze, clouded with arousal, on his knight. Ellison was still standing in all hi snaked glory, his hard member shivering slightly with every heartbeat, head cocked, breathing deeply as if he was a bloodhound trying to find an elusive scent.

„James?“

The tall man shook his head once, his gaze clearing, a shudder wracking his defined body. „Thank you, Blair - I could feel the greyness creep closer...“

„That’s what I want to be here for...“ But he was interrupted again by his knight, who knelt in front of the bed, then reverently bent down to kiss the quivering stomach of his young lover, to lick the bellybutton, to gently, oh, so gently bite the soft skin of the nearest hip. „It’s your scent, Blair. I have never smelled anything more wonderful - no perfume is more enticing...“ James tentatively reached out with one finger and collected one drop of precum from Blair’s angry-hard cock. A small moan made him look into his lover’s face, anxious that he had involuntarily hurt the young man. But Blair was just looking at him with large, almost black eyes, mesmerized by his doings and panted heavily. So James licked the clear liquid off his own finger and again Blair moaned. Slowly tasting, rolling *Blair* around in his mouth, James discovered that there was too much sweat from his own skin that diluted the unique taste of his lover, so he frowned. „I taste too much of myself,“ he volunteered information, then asked: „would you mind if I licked you .... there?“ Again James frowned, looking up into Blair’s face expectantly. The young man swallowed on a dry throat, then, at the third attempt, husked:

„no, wouldn’t mind...“

And James bent down and sampled the Taste of his lover, and the Touch of his lover, too, because when he closed his lips around the engorged cock-head, the young man could not prevent an involuntary motion with his hips and James gave in and let his lips travel up and down the hard shaft, enveloping it in the wet heat of his mouth. And that way he sampled the Sound of his lover, also, because Blair was moaning constantly now, encouraging him, urging him on, breaking out into delicious sweat, so that James could sample Scent, too. And so James opened his eyes and he saw the crisp little hairs of Blair’s pubic bush and the pumping rise and fall of his lover’s hips and he moaned a little because it was so good for him to see the abandonement in the movement. He heard the little commands in this sexy dark voice: „suck it, please, just a little bit, James, so gooood, so wonderful, Mylord...“ Which sounded suspiciously like a prayer because now he was sucking a little bit, and the shaft in his mouth grew harder and the smell changed for a fraction of a moment and Blair jerked once and suddenly James was no longer just sucking, but swallowing and gagging a bit and swallowing again so that he would not suffocate or drown and he did not let go and just kept gently licking the fast deflating organ until it was wrinkled and - well, smaller again.

Finally James laughed a little surprised, the sound almost a sob because he was so embarrassed that he had almost failed to keep up with the flood that had been offered to him. But when he looked up into Blair’s flushed face, he knew that obviously he had done something right, for there was so much love in those blue eyes that his superior sight was almost blinded by it. And Sandburg, bright, intelligent, I’ve-been-around- Blair Sandburg, just stammered:

„Never, in my whole life, has anyone ever done this to me before. I can die a happy man now.“ Yet he did not die but sat up weakly, grasped James’ head with both hands and urgend the willing knight onto the bed. Eager to return the miracle, the young man pushed James on his back and straddled him. While he kissed Ellison, tasting the faint trace of his own semen, he cupped the hard, drawn-up balls of his still unsatisfied lover and gently massaged them. Then, reluctantly breaking the passionate kiss, he bent down and swallowed James’ hard rod in one fluid motion. He wanted to do something elaborate, something as memorable as the miracle he had just received, so he held James down and did all the work, pumping the leaking organ. James watched Blair’s head bob up and down and it was too much too fast.- With a hoarse bellow he yanked himself free from Sandburg’s restricting grasp, and rammed himself upwards into the hot heaven of Blair’s lush lips. And while thousands of silky strands of his lover’s long hair teased his groin and spurred him on, he emptied himself into his lover’s mouth over and over and over again, while his skin prickled and blinding lights deafened him, somewhere someone bellowed and his whole body convulsed violently.

Yet the Knight did not give in to the siren song of sleep. - As soon as his brain emerged from the sexinduced fog he sat up to make sure Blair had not been hurt by his violent outburst. But the young man seemed to be allright. The kid was lying on his side, his face resting on James’ thigh, facing his anxious lover with a dreamy look in his blue eyes, smacking his lips from time to time. Finally the imp hiccupped once for dramatic reasons and grinned:

„Thank you for feeding me...“ Which earned him another passionate kiss and a heartfelt laugh:

„Blair, wonderful, wonderful Blair - so this is your idea of making memories?“ - the last laugh he would hear from his knight in a very long time.

Chapter 16

The next week was a blur of making preparations and plans and finally, at nights, of making more memories. During the long, arduous days Sandburg tried to go with Lord Ellison, his page’s cap firmly in place. Once or twice he bumped into the little monk in one of the long draughty hallways of Iverntake Castle. Once Blair caught him stealing some fruit in the kitchen, but Sandburg just grinned and let the startled young monk get away with his price, while he himself engaged the cook in a conversation to distract the pompous fat man from the crime-scene in his kitchen.

Then they were ready to leave. James had one last meeting with the king. Rafius embraced his old friend:

„Take care of yourself - I want you back - I need the voice of reason in my Council. And you“ The King’s sharp eyes were suddenly fixed on Blair Sandburg before his Highness continued gruffly: „I never apologized for what happened to you at my Court. That does not mean that I shall likely forget the incident. So if you ever are unwanted in one of the places you decide to go and you want a place where you are welcome, come to Iverntake. You are wanted here - even though it did not seem so this time.“ The tall monarch grasped the kid’s hand in a bruising grip and turned around ignoring the startled stutter of young Sandburg. Then the Bishop held a mass and one hundred soldiers under Ellison’s command received their blessing and began their long trek to Spain on this early sunny morning.

Blair was sitting on a small, firy horse James had given to him - „You should have a mount that’s as hotblooded as you are“, for they had been *talking* a lot about leaving Blair behind during this one week. It was an illfated trek from the start. They had already lost 20 soldiers to broken bones and bruises when they arrived in Wessex some two weeks later. The trip should not have been that long, but the men weren’t accustomed to long marches and practicing during their spare off hours.

Finally they made camp close to Salisbury. Sutherton, the mayor of the city, was anything but happy with the sudden appearance of a small army-troup in front of the city-gates. First he was outright hostile, then he recognised his Lordship, Count Ellison, and his face fell - he had already planned to threaten the goddamn warlord with Lord Ellison’s name - as he was ruling the county by the king’s orders. Sutherten sighed deeply - life was just not fair. Then he opened the gates of all the barns and sadly watched the disappearence of all the nice corn they had stored there for some cold winter.

James hadn’t said a word at all for the last two days. Too tired to do anything but ride by day and sleep at night, Blair had not had the strength to insist on talking, so they had travelled in silence, one looking out for the other, preparing food, working hand in hand, as if a secret link was knitting them together. Once at the beginning of their trek, James had almost fallen into greyness when hit by a particularly abominable smell, but Blair, although he had been standing some feet away, tending to the horses, had immediately felt that something was wrong and had come running. But still James had insisted on leaving him behind; and soon after that had stopped talking at all.

Now they were sitting next to one of the many small fires that lit the camp, and James coughed while he stirred the flames. „Tomorrow I’ll send messengers to the harbour of Southhampton - our ships should already be waiting.“

A sparkle of hope made Blair’s heart clench. „Our ships, Mylord?“

„Well, yes, to bring the men and myself to Spain. So tomorrow is is the day I bring you to Alderthorpe-Castle. Steven will take care of you - if you want to wait until I come back, that is.“ There was so much sadness, desperation, hopelessness in James’ voice that Blair sighed deeply.

„Mylord, I do not want to wait for your return.“ and before Ellison could turn away in hurt the young man hastily continued: „I want to come with you, be at your side, where I belong. But you won’t let me - so I guess I have to wait - impatiently and worried but wait I shall nevertheless.“ Without taking his glance off the dancing flames, James reached over to the spot where Blair was sitting next to him and laid a comforting hand on the young man’s thigh. The heat that penetrated Blair’s page-uniform seemed to be a living thing.

Chapter 17

So the next day saw the two men on the road, riding next to each other, silent except for a warning to watch out for a branch or a mudhole on the ground. When the two riders finally arrived at the gates of the old castle the early afternoon sun was standing just behind the watchtower of Alderthorpe-Hall. The stone walls were alight with an orange glow, and countless trees already in full bloom were showing off their white and pink blossoms, warm and friendly, and yet Blair Sandburg felt cold and deserted amidst the countless servants that cheerfully greeted their master. Then a young man came running down the stairs of the main building - waving and laughing: „Does this mean, what I hope it does? That you are home again and for good this time?“

James climbed off his large war-horse like a much older man would. For a moment the older Ellison held onto the animal’s neck to steady himself, then he straightened and turned to the young man.

„Stephen - it is truly good to see you in good health. I have only one day.“ Stephen’s face fell and he paled considerably.

„But I thought you wanted to talk to the King?“ He reached out for his brother, desperate but not daring to actually touch him.

„This is no longer the King’s decision, brother. The church has the last word in this - and I do not think that the Bishop will let this go.“ Ellison took one step closer to Stephen, finally able to embrace the brash young man, who muttered:

„This evil bastard, I hope he rots in hell...“ before he let himself answer the tight embrace.

„But he is a holy man, Stephen - he won’t likely rot in hell - he is waiting for his throne in heaven - though I would be happy if he would decide to wait at another place...“ Both men laughed, their shared joke obviously an old one, until finally Stephen pulled away and looked at Blair:

„From Ruffa’s description - Ruffa, the page who impersonated you, remember? - you must be Blair Sandburg. I am glad my brother offered you hospitality - as you might have guessed already, every enemy of Silvestrius’ is a good friend of ours.“ Stephen had a ready smile when he offered Blair a hand to help him down his horse. A smile that did falter a little bit when James interjected:

„Yes, he is going to stay here until I come back - or until he decides to leave. Blair - this is my brother Stephen - and this is your new home, Alderthorpe.“ At first the young man was understandably intimidated by the introduction, but he recovered admirably.

„You have a library?“ He greedily grinned up at the men, both larger than he, until both Ellisons laughed and Stephen added with a smirk:

„Finally those old tomes are saved from death by dust!“ And Blair did start to feel a little bit at home at that.

Chapter 18

Later that night, after a long dinner with lots of food and even more talk Blair was sitting in his room - the first real room in ages that he did not have to share with strangers, travellers like himself, or his family. Some weeks ago he would have been elated. Now he was only tired, desperate and sad. A soft knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts that seemed to center around the fact that the most important person in his life was leaving some time tomorrow. He answered the door and was enveloped in a gentle embrace, ushered back into his new room and kissed lovingly. When he was able to think again - some long time later - he had to focus closely at what James said:

„There is something I want to show you. Are you up to another hour of riding, love?“ The tall knight sounded husky and needy and Blair responded with body and soul to the subtle pleading. His mind reminded him of the innuendo in James’ question but the small part of Blair’s brain that was not drowning in desire wagged a finger and admonished him that the Count did most likely not know about the other way of riding. Yet Blair felt hot at the thought and, after a short nod, gathered a small knapsack he had packed back at Iverntake castle - where he had raided the booths of merchants then made a deal with one of the owners: He had shown some of his less unbelievable tricks and attracted customers, the merchant had paid with some of his goods.

Soon they were gallopping under the full moon, James, who had bluntly refused to tell where they were headed, was leading up front, his superior sight making it easy for him to find the path, Blair hanging onto his mare, trusting the horse to follow it’s mate.

All of a sudden the air seemed to shift around them - they were going fast now, the path crossing a plain - and even though there was almost no wind at all and the moon was still undisturbed by clouds, its pale glow painting silvery shadows over the riding men, the air-currents seemed to change subtly. James reigned in his suddenly nervous horse, calming the whinnying mare with soft pats to its neck. When Blair came to a stop next to him, the tall man shifted in his saddle and moved a bit to let his young lover glance past him. Blair saw huge rocks formed in a gigantic ring, every two of them connected with an equally large covering slab. In the middle of the ring, almost obscured by the shadows of the moonlit night were two more stones, lying flat on the ground, half-sunk, the grass not obscuring them, too sorted to just have fallen down. Sandburg gasped, his horse danced startled and James grabbed the reins to steady the mare. Then he said:

„Are those like the Dancing Stones you were referring to in our first night? Those are called Giant’s dance, Stonehenge. They were standing guard on our land before time began, making it prosperous, watching out for us. I would have wanted for you to see them during daylight, but I do not think I shall have the time tomorrow.“ His voice displayed the sadness Ellison did not dare to show in his eyes.

„No, James - this is the perfect time. Do you feel it, too?“ Blair was standing up in his stirrups. The air that surrounded them smelled like honey and cinnamon all of a sudden, warm and enchanted, the moon’s white light weaving a blanket of love. Slowly they approached the ring of dancing stones, an ancient miracle of power, the soft wind whispering through the still sunwarmed giants and - by touching the rocks - the wind’s colder temperature flicked away minute shreds of stone, which made a highpitched whiney ping that almost sounded like some kind of strange music. For a brief moment, both Ellison and Sandburg saw a large black cat and a wolf standing together close in the shadow of one of the gates of Stonehenge. Almost without noticing it, the two men chose this gate to approach the magic ring.

However they had to dismount their horses and leave them tied together a hundred paces from the mystical stone ring - the mares would not go another step further and would have turned and ran away hadn’t they been tied.

Slowly James and Blair went on, following the cat and the wolf who were now lazily lounging on one of the altar-stones in the middle of the ring. The soft wind ruffled Blair’s hair and he shook the strands out of his face, wondering why he didn’t feel cold. He wanted to reach out for James only to find that his lover had had the same idea and was grasping his hand right now, as they were stepping into the ring, passing the gate of stones. The wind ceased. The moonlight seemed brighter inside the ring of the dancing giants. The two animals were gone, their farewell-growl hanging in the still air.

„You are right Blair - I can feel the magic, too. It was the perfect time tonight.“ Full of gratitude the tall knight turned to face his young lover, bringing their intertwined hands to his lips and kissing them gently. Blair leaned into the touch, starved of affection by days without the closeness of their room at Iverntake.

„Do you want to make more memories, James?“ There was a hint of a tear in the whispered question, but when Blair looked up and gazed into the knight’s blue eyes, it was love that made them shine brightly.

Swallowing, James could only nod mutely, then bent to kiss his lover’s inviting lips. The kiss was tentative, a gentle question after days of silence and grief on both sides, a chaste plea for forgiveness. And forgiveness was given, when Blair opened his mouth and let his tongue lick at James’ lips, that eagerly responded and deepened the silent vow. James’ whole body seemed to relax and sink into their tight embrace, a soft, short groan his only vocal sign of surrender. When Blair had to break their passionate kiss to breathe, the knight sank to his knees, forcing they young man to stay standing, and while embracing Blair’s slender waist now, nuzzled his head into the younger man’s belly. When he started to sniffle, Sandburg recognised the endearing gesture for what it was: With his overly active sense of smell Ellison tried to imprint his lover’s scent into his memory.

With a small chuckle Blair joined the still sniffing man on the ground, kneeling down on soft grass, depositing his knapsack on the nearest altar-stone next to them.

„I want to touch your skin, James...“ With feeble fingers Sandburg yanked at the loops of James’ long shirt, trying to rip it off that magnificent body without tearing it. James finally helped, wriggling out of his clothes and laying them out on the altar, like some kind of sacrifice, soon joined by Blair’s page-uniform that just fell on top of them. Another kiss and James’ hands wrapped themselves into Blair’s hair, trying to urge the smaller man closer, the first touch of their skins, their bared cocks sending sizzling lightnings through their spines.

Not having the advantage of overly sensitized senses, Blair had to resort to touching - his hands roamed the muscled back of his noble lover, gliding over hot skin, revelling in the soft sheen of sweat and diving down to slender hips. Still James’ hands were content being buried in long strands of silken hair, gently massaging Sandburg’s scalp while he gave himself over to the wonderful sensation of being mapped by elegant, no longer feeble fingers.

When Blair’s hands found the hard, tense globes of James’ ass, the tall man shivered and pressed himself even closer against the magician, his insistent erection throbbing against the smaller kid’s stomach. Suddenly Blair broke their kiss and bent to find a hard nipple, licking, then sucking the quivering nub, making almost obscene little noises, while at the same time one of Blair’s fingers found the sweaty crease and - using some force to part the tense mounds, - he dove between the now shivering globes and found the small, puckered opening. A viscious suckle on James’ nipple distracted the tall man for a moment, and then Blair’s finger had breached the resistent ring, his sweatslicked finger already penetrated, was inside, was IN, was surrounded by the incredible heat that was his lover.

And James started to rock - back onto the one finger, one inch of wiggling exstacy, and forth, so that his engorged cock could rub against Blair’s delicious chesthair while his hands grabbed lumps of grass to avoid yanking Blair’s hair out. Now it was Sandburg’s turn to groan breathlessly.

When the young man looked up to gauge his lover’s reaction, the knight had thrown back his head in bliss, eyes closed, whispering a soft litany of words Blair had to concentrate to hear:

„more, please, more, please, more, ...“ was the prayer that accompanied each rocking of the powerfully muscled body.

„I can give you more, James. James? James!“ Sandburg’s finger left the pucker, and immediately James came back to reality. Panting, his voice hoarse as if long unused, he begged:

„I heard you - it was just so good - again, Blair - please? I do not know what to want, what to do!“ Shamelessly the tall man rubbed himself over his young lover, his precum leaving a glistening trail across Blair’s crisp chesthair.

Gentling the aroused man with his hands, Blair smiled: „I shall give you more, lover. Let me show you, guide you in this. Turn around and bend over this altar-stone. Our clothes will serve you as a pillow.“ Almost James did as he was told, but stopped and all but refused:

„I cannot see you if I do as you say.“ Again he grasped Sandburg’s face in both hands, his thumbs oh so very tenderly touching the skin of his lover’s high cheekbones. For a moment Blair faltered, leaning into this delicious touch. Then his eyes, closed in bliss, opened and he brightened:

„True, but you can try to feel me!“ And at James’ questing glance he continued eagerly, his cock already jumping in anticipation:

„Use your senses - you will not fade into greyness, because I am with you - and you can feel my heat, smell me, and I promise, you are going to have one of my fingers to suckle on for taste...“ There was an evil, impish smile on the younger man’s face and with a gasp James whirled around and bent over the large stone. So much trust. Blair was almost choking on the love he felt for this man. Suddenly he realized that everything he wanted in life was to make this man happy, to give memories to this man that would make James realize that it was truly good to return home and fast.

Slowly Blair started to nibble a trail of kisses down Ellison’s powerful spine, while he blindly grabbed for the knapsack. With one shivering hand he found the small vial he had bartered before they had left Iverntake. As he uncapped it, the sweet smell of chamomile drifted through the air, and the young magician had reached James’ ass again, licking and gently biting the pale globes. Carefully he set the vial down into the grass, then grabbed those inviting mounds again and - in rhythm with James’ moans of pleasure, - he kneaded the relaxing globes, from time to time uncovering the puckered hole. When he blew his breath over the exposed pucker for the first time, James jumped and huffed in surprise. But soon the tall man was writhing, head resting on his forearms, softly moaning every time the clenching bud was touched by a soft cloud of moist air.

„More, James?“ Blair’s question was as much reassurance that the sensitive knight, who was at his mercy, had not faded out, as it was a tease. Not that „uhn hu!“ was a real answer, but sufficient enough.

„Then spread your legs a bit for me, Mylord“ - Eagerly the knight complied and without being able to look he extended his sense of touch to feel what was going on behind his back. He felt his lover’s hands that still grasped his ass, exposing his hole to the cool night air, he felt the heat coming off the young man that was kneeling behind him, felt it shift as the kid moved closer, moved between his spread legs now, was so close now.... Helplessly James cried out when the first slick lick swept over his pucker, and it took the knight time - actual time - to translate the feeling into the wonderful, marvellous, fantastic action that was going on. Blair, his lover Blair, was wetting his pucker with his tongue - James could not repress another bellow when realization hit him in time with a second swipe of that miracle-tongue.

Soon his hole was dripping with spit, slick and clenching involuntarily, hungry for more - although James did not quite know what *more* could be. Something happened in the grass next to his right knee but he was too distracted by what happened to his rear end to pay too much attention. And the scent of chamomile that was even stronger all of a sudden was really nice, too.

And then there was pressure against his pucker, and one, no - he corrected himself with the last shred of thinking - two fingers were slipping inside, oily against his ass and immediately pumping in and out in a demanding rhythm. His long-drawn moan seemed to shake the stones. Soon he was close, so close to reaching delicious blissful completion without even touching his cock and he started shaking in earnest now and then Sandburg stopped - STOPPED and that got his attention and he heard the kid ask:

„There is more, James. Do you want it?“ Blair’s voice was quivering with suppressed need and all of a sudden James knew what *more* would be, and he knew that he needed it and he knew that he would want it forever. And so he mustered all the strength left in his aroused body and said, frustrated by the inadequacy of his insufficient words:

„Yes, please, get inside me. All of you. please.“ But Blair seemed to understand because he sighed „Thank you“, which James found rather odd, given the fact that he wanted something from Blair, then the fingers left his ass and there was some fiddling and then something hard and *large* and slick was pressed against his hungry pucker and slipped in some and then there was a sharp, insistent *pain* and he gasped and clenched and tensed and the pain increased.

Blair immediately went still - while he made soft shushing noises, he started to rub the tense back of his lover, concentrating on the spot of muscled flesh where spine meets ass, warming it with his massage. Without moving too much, the young man bent over and, while still pressing his hand against James’ lower back, he reached for the leaking erection that had not yet had the time to diminish. Slowly pumping the engorged organ he felt James relax a fraction - he teased the hard cock grasping only for its wet head with the tips of his fingers and shoving the foreskin over it and back.

The pressure against James’ back was good, it calmed him, he could feel the tension leave there and so did the pain. Then Blair grasped the head of his cock and teased it with an almost nonexistent touch that set him aflame even further. He desperately wanted more pressure on his dick, so he shoved himself forward to encourage a tighter grip. But when he pushed back to gain more momentum, he rammed himself onto Blair’s hot cock and it felt wonderful - he was being filled, the pressure inside him almost unbearable in a good way and so he rammed back again, the soft crinkly hair of Blair’s pubic bush suddenly tickling his ass. Sandburg’s sweat dripped onto James’ back and with his newfound knowledge of how wonderful this lovemaking was indeed, Ellison whispered: „Move!“ and didn’t realize that he had shouted it until he heard the yell himself. And so Blair Sandburg moved. Sure steady strokes of his hard dick had James quivering even though the young man had let go of his lover’s dick, holding onto James’ hips with both hands now. James joined the rhythm, the silky glide of slick skin inside him driving him higher and higher. And then Blair shifted and started a fast pounding and James bellowed again, because somewhere inside something had ignited a flame that threatened to take over his whole being and he reached down to his own dick to clamp down on it, because this was so much, too much, and the lightning struck inside of him again and without really wanting to he was pumping his hard, leaking cock and Blair rammed home one last time and everything was light and color and stars and James shuddered and clenched and came and came and cried out finally, his roar being washed away by a shout of completion from Blair, who was spewing hot semen into his ass and that felt great because James still pumped his cock although there was almost nothing left to squeeze out. And all his strength left him and he sank down on the neatly folded clothes lying on the altar stone in the middle of the ring of Dancing Giants, while Blair was slumping down on his back, too weak to even slip out of his ass. And that felt good, too.

After a while they did move, though, but they stayed there in the middle of the ancient ring of stones, lying on sweet, soft grass that was untouched because people avoided the magical place, as did animals. They used their clothes as a blanket, although they weren’t feeling cold, the air around them still warm and heavy with the scent of chamomile and sex and honey. Finally, long hours of shared closeness later, they both got up and dressed, reluctantly admitting that there was an outside world with cruel demands. They rode back to Alderthorpe Castle and slipped back in through a side-gate, taking care of their horses, not willing have other people look at them. Blair found his room and held the door open and so James shared a bed with his lover one last time. Neither man slept, though. They were holding each other, memorizing scents and sounds to help them through the long lonely months that were ahead of them.

Chapter 19

The next morning Ellison spent hours with his brother, engrossed in household plans and economics and too soon the big warhorse was waiting in front of the stables and Ellison knocked at Blair’s door. The young man opened, pale, looking so much older than his age. „I shall come back, Blair. Have faith.“

„I do have faith. I found an old greek book in your library today. It says you are special. Helodot calls people like you Sentinels. You cannot die now. You have to survive. I shall wait, James. Never forget that!“

„I shall not. Remember: When you look up at the sky at night you see the same stars that I can see.“

Blair nodded, then whispered: „Just not as many as you, Sentinel.“ And that remark earned him a small, sad smile and this was how he wanted to remember this knight: Proud, dedicated, smiling, love shining in his eyes.

They were both shaking when they embraced one last time, their kiss tasting bitter and salty from unshed tears. Then James, Lord Ellison, Count of Alderthorpe, turned around and went down to say a last good-bye to his brother and the servants, some of whom were crying. Finally he mounted his horse, and grabbed the reins. Blair was standing next to Stephen, the page’s uniform he wore looking out of place now, his pale face a stark contrast to the blue shirt. James forced his horse sideways so that he could bend down to his lover. With gruff movements he yanked on his left hand, then pressed something in Blair’s fingers.

„Take care.“ His heels spurred the mare into a startled jump, then the horse galopped on, its thundering hooves the last Blair heard for a long time, while a soft breeze stirred thousands and thousands of fallen petals from the blossoming trees, sending a colorfull white and pink wave after the disappearing rider, the petals finally settling onto the dirty road like a shroud. Blair’s gaze never faltered, though he could no longer see James in the distance, until Stephen shook him lightly and he saw that they were alone in the Castle’s court, so he turned to go back into the house. His hands clenched into fists when he realized that he could not hear the clip-clop of James’ horse any longer. This was when he felt the object in his palm. The signet ring had been made of heavy gold, the seal carved in black gemstone, the claw of a large black cat clearly visible.

Blair was still staring at the piece of jewellery when Stephen hugged him once: „He loves you very much. Hadn’t I seen it in his eyes, I would know it now.“ A nod of his head pointed at the signet ring.

Unbelievingly Blair glanced into Stephen’s brown eyes. „And you do not mind?“

The younger Ellison shrugged and squirmed a bit uncomfortably: „It would not change if I refused to aprove. But the good thing is“ and now Stephen grinned impishly, his face boyishly handsome all of a sudden: „Should I decide to marry, my children will be the legal heirs to this estate. That is not bad for a poor second son.“

And as this was not what Blair had feared to hear, he joined the young man’s goodnatured chuckle and followed him back inside.

The next few weeks were filled for Blair with exploring his new home, enthusiastically accompanied by young Steven who tried to overcome the apprehension he felt whenever he thought about the way just what kind of good friends his brother and the young magician were. But after Blair had taught him some of his magical tricks and Stephen was able to produce a string of colorful silk scarves out of seemingly nowhere without strangling himself, he started to genuinly like the young man. Every evening though, Blair Sandburg could be found at the stables, mounting a horse, riding to the magical ring of stones, to look at the setting sun and to watch the shadows growing longer. Silently he used to greet the stars and sometimes he would give in to the tears he would not cry in front of anyone else, sometimes he would touch himself when the need grew too strong.

A couple of weeks after James had left the letters arrived: The small army had made it to the harbour of Southampton and was about to board the ships. Ellison, who had decided to avoid France and land in Spain to use the moment of surprise for their mission to search for a save passage for a much larger army, had friendly words for all the servants and well-wishes for his brother. He had written nothing on his plans for the mission or anything of political importance. The second letter was solely for Blair. It was short in case it did not arrive safely: „Remember: I look at the same stars. Take care. James“

Blair went to his room and did not emerge for two days except for his trip to the Dancing Stones.

Chapter 20

The weeks passed and spring gave way to early summer and still Blair, as regular as the sun, rode out to the ancient Giant’s dance to wait for the first stars to appear. Sometimes he thought that - when dusk was setting in and the world was dipped in grey shadows, - he could see the ship Ellison had boarded. He thought he could feel the waves and for a moment he even imagined to taste the salty air of the sea. Then one night the air felt hotter and smelled differently from the fresh green grass he had gotten used to. He counted the days and knew that his lover was now probably on his trek through Spain. And he wished fervently that James could feel him, too.

James had enjoyed the long cruise to Spain. Despite the uneasiness that choked him whenever he consciously thought about being miles away from solid ground and only water surrounding him, he liked the long leasurly hours he used for daydreaming. Every evening he went to a quiet spot at the ship’s bow and looked out for the first star. His men never disturbed him during those brief moments. One of them tried once. He never tried again.

Finally they landed at the Spanish coast, preparing for the long trek to Cadiz. On that first evening, when James waited for the stars to shine, there was a large black cat growling next to him. The animal was so close, James thought he could touch it, but of course it was as elusive as a dream. At first the knight was worried, fearing for his lover’s safety, but when the nightly sky glowed from a million tiny lights he knew that Blair was all right, he felt him standing in the middle of the Giant’s dance, thinking of him.

The large cat stayed at his side, though, for the next week. They made fine progress, using backroads and no roads at all to avoid travellers as much as they could. In short time they were deep inside the country, soon suffering from lack of water and sufficient food, while the summer sun burnt their brains. Half a dozen men collapsed because they refused to take off their helmets, two of them finally died, their bodies looking wrinkled and blistered. James only lived for those few minutes every evening while he waited for the first stars to appear in the sky. And the cat got more and more nervous every day.

It was the nineth day of their trek through the heated hell of Spain and the cat had not left James’ side for the whole day. Slowly the knight was becoming annoyed by the nervous attitude of the apparition. More alert as he would usually have been he tried to reach out with his senses for any danger. But now it was early evening and the whole day had been just another twelve hours of searching for a road where no roads were and looking for water to survive the terrible heat that literally killed every thought except the burning desire for a soft breeze. Again James scanned their surroundings. Somewhere in the back, where the sun was slowly disappearing behind a small hillock, the fading light was reflected by some polished metal. His tired brain gathered the information and he turned around to avoid the light of the setting sun. Polished metal?

He yelled some orders and his men responded with admirable speed. Yet they were too slow. A cloud of arrows, like hail during a thunderstorm, hit them and although the missiles were not aimed carefully, many of them found their way. Ellison’s army was still trying to form a defense ring, when the attackers closed in on them, a horde of unkempt, dirty and very fast fighters, mercenaries, from the looks of it. Because they had been warned by James’ keen eyesight, the soldiers were finally able to fight back, their resistance only enraging the attacking gang. Accompanied by the vicious growling of the ghost-cat, Ellison and his four officers, all on horseback, managed to almost overpower the mercenaries by the sheer force of their trained warhorses. But then the first of the mares fell, the tendons of its leg sliced by the sword of one attacker. It was over soon then. The horses fell and they had to fight by foot. Soon Ellison and his Second in Command were the last two men standing, and James shouted a desperate warning, when two of the mercenaries tried to attack the fighting soldier from behind. The last thing Ellison saw before merciful darkness enveloped him, was his friend as he turned around being stabbed by three of mercenaries. Then the large cat jumped at him and everything went black.

Chapter 21

Miles away and across the ocean Blair got ready for his daily trip to the Giant’s dance. In the stables the horse he had been given greeted him with a soft snort, looking forward to the carrot it was given every evening. While it greedily munched the treat, the young man saddled his mount, then brought it out into the Castle’s large court. The horse shifted and pranced a bit in anticipation then stilled when Blair soothingly patted its neck. Suddenly the sun shifted and Blair broke into a sweat under his leather tunic. The air was glistening with heat and soaked with the scents of sweat and blood and iron. Blair was standing on a small hillock, looking down onto a battlefield, where men were dying and horses crying in almost human pain. Lord Ellison and a second soldier were the last two men standing, surrounded by filthy mercenaries, fighting for their lives, the large black cat spitting at each and every attacker. Blair wanted to yell, to shout warnings, to run down to fight with his love, at least to die with his love, but he found he could not move, could not shout, could not even breathe.

Unable to do anything but stare he watched as Ellison, enormous sword swinging in both hands, danced a silent, deadly ballet until his friend was being attacked from behind and stabbed. The warning James had obviously shouted broke his rhythm and as his friend fell, one of the mercenaries could sneak up at him. With all his willpower Blair tried to shout, but all he managed was half a sob. The black cat turned its head at the pitiful sound, saw the attacker and jumped. To Blair it seemed as if the apparition was going through Ellison, the deadly claws aiming at the attacker’s face behind James’ back. The mercenary jerked back, his cudgel’s blow missing Ellison’s temple by mere inches, hitting the helmet instead. Disoriented the cowardly attacker shook his head than stood triumphantly over Ellison’s quiet body, while the rest of the mercenaries already were stripping the soldiers of their belongings.

„Blair, Blair, breathe, you have to breathe!“ Cold water hit his hot face and he sputtered and coughed and sucked in air.

„James - gotta find James. He’s been attacked.“ Sandburg struggled to sit up, but Stephen held him down and would not let him move.

„You have a sunstroke, Blair. Please, take it easy. James can take care of himself.“ The soothing voice might have calmed him at any other time but not tonight. With unsuspected strength Blair shoved Stephen away and sat up.

„Do not baby me, Stephen. I know that James is in trouble. Do not ask me how I know, you would not believe me anyway. I just know and I have to help him. I want to borrow that horse and could you give me some money? I have to get to Spain as soon as possible.“

This did not go over well. The younger Ellison looked at him as if he had lost his mind, pity in his eyes and sympathy. „How can you know something happened to him?“

„I saw it - just like I saw him every evening. Please, Stephen, you have to believe me - we do have this connection.“ And although Stephen Ellison shook his head, something like awe and reluctant trust slipped into his eyes.

„So come inside and tell me everything.“ Grateful Blair let himself being hauled to his feet. Half an hour later Steven was almost convinced: „So you say those were mercenaries. Not a gang of robbers, you insist they were mercenaries. How can you be so sure there was a plan behind this and not a random attack?“

„Well, for one: Would a gang of robbers take the chance and attack a group of soldiers that large? I mean they were not protecting any riches. They were just ... soldiers. And from what I saw“ Steven cringed at the words but was at least willing to listen „they had a plan of attack. They went for the horses - and immobilized them after decimating the soldiers with a shower of arrows. To me it looked as if they were after James.“ He interrupted himself, clenching his hands into fists. „I have to go find him!“ He added, standing up, in his mind already packing.

„Blair, sit down. It’s night now, you cannot travel through the darkness. If they really were after James, they probably will ask for ransom. Which is going to be higher than I can afford. We shall ask King Rafius for help. Although I do not even know him, but he will recognise my name of course...“ Steven trailed off, when Blair grabbed the young man’s arm:

„You believe me, don’t you?“

„God help me, I do. I know I am probably as crazy as you are, but I believe you.“ The younger Ellison shook his head again, sighing when he saw Blair’s triumphant grin. Then Sandburg sobered:

„I know King Rafius. I do not want to go back into this doomed castle and run into Silvestrius again, but Rafius owes me a favor and I am going to demand payment of it now. He will place enough money to pay the ransom at my disposal. He simply has to.“ He added in a mixture of grief and force. Then he got up: „You were right, Stephen, I shall go to bed now. First thing in the morning I shall ride to Iverntake. And - I shall go alone - I’ll be faster like that and you should wait for any news.“

„Two horses will wait for you with enough food so that there won’t be any unnecessary stops. See you tomorrow morning. And Blair..“ he said as an afterthought, as if he were afraid to admit that he believed in visions now: „he *is* still alive, isn’t he?“

„Yes, Stephen, I would feel it if he weren’t.“ And with as little comfort as that both men went to bed.

Stephen kept his word: As soon as the first rays of sun broke through the black night, the younger Ellison was waiting with two fast horses, both saddled, and enough rations for Blair to get him through a much longer ride. Blair, tightly wrapped into a warm coat that would fight the nights cold and serve as a blanket during some short hours of sleep each night, when it would be too dark to travel, mounted one of the mares. When he shook Stephen’s hand, the younger Ellison noticed that James’ ring, Blair’s most treasured belonging, normally hidden on a string around his neck, stuck on the kid’s right thumb. And somehow this was why he suddenly knew that it would be a long time until Blair would come back...

Chapter 22

With no need to wait for walking soldiers and supported by two well-rested racehorses Blair needed much less time than while he was travelling with James and the small army. He reached Iverntake after only two nights of sleeping under the stars. The same stars that James was able to see. The thought kept him alive, his only hope the desperate knowledge that he would somehow feel if James was dead or dying. The second night he had stopped after one of his horses stumbled into a hole of the uneven road and almost fell. He made sure that the mare’s leg was not hurt, then tied the two animals together and laid down. The night was clear and the stars held a quiet watch. Too restless to sleep Blair tried to come up with plans - how he would talk Rafius into paying the demanded ransom, even though he did not know if they would ever receive a demand. How he would buy a passage on any ship that was going to leave Southampton harbour for Spain. How he would ask people if they had seen his knight. He shook his head - in this day and age he might end dead before he even reached Southampton, let alone Spain. Hopelessness claimed him and tore at his heart. And all of a sudden he felt the hard body of James, Lord Ellison lying next to him. The tall knight was no longer dressed in his expensive clothes. Somebody had given him some rags, barely enough to cover his nakedness, and the Count was having trouble breathing, a painful headache almost incapacitating him.

Blair did not care if he was hallucinating or dreaming. He knelt down next to his lover and turned the almost unconscious man over to face him. With hands, cold from nervousness, the young man rubbed James’ temples soothingly, at the same time feeling for any injuries. The blow to the helmet, he had witnessed days before, had left an eggsized swelling on the back of James’ head, that was very sensitive to his gentle touch. So he concentrated on soft crooning sounds and his cool hands on James’ forehead. When the tall man started to breathe a little easier, the image began to lose substance, faltered and vanished. Blair tried to will the vision back, but only succeeded in getting a headache. When he finally sank into a restless exhausted sleep, his dreams were filled with images of James, smeared with blood, dying in his arms.

Chapter 23

James was struggling to take another breath, his head aching with the effort to keep the nausea at bay. Every bone in his body ached and the filthy rags they had given him instead of his clothes not only scratched his skin but also stank and caused him to gag every once in a while. He hadn’t been able to take care of his personal hygiene and he felt like a rotting cadaver ready to finally die and get it all over with. Night had fallen a few minutes ago, darkness coming fast in these southern countries and the first stars glowed high up in the sky, pulsing and shimmering to his superior sight. With a groan he closed his eyes - his head hurt so much. Suddenly there was a presence kneeling next to him. At first he tried to resist when he was being turned around, ashamed that he felt this way, but afraid that whoever was that close would hurt him again.

Those first days of imprisonment had been a series of blows, kicks and humiliations that had almost broken his proud soul. But this time it was different: Cool hands - those were calming, cool hands on his forehead. James revelled in the soothing comfort they were giving. A crooning voice he knew so well - Blair - he tried to talk to the apparition, knowing quite well that this was not real - but his head threatened to split in half at the attempt so he just let go, relaxed into the soft voice of his lover. This was what was meant to be. The next breath came a little easier and so James decided to try and live a little longer. For Blair’s sake only he would not give up right now. Bruises could heal - he had seen it on Blair’s face after he had rescued the boy out of the Bishop’s grip. He would come back to his love.

When the blinding, burning sun rose to greet another bright-hot day, James Lord Ellison was still alive. Much to the surprise of Rodriguez, the commander who was leading the small group of men. He was a small , wiry man with wrinkly, suntanned skin and sly darkbrown eyes and his men followed his every order without hesitation. He neared with stale water and a chunk of hard, grey bread not so much to feed his prisoner but to see if he was still alive. James squinted against the early rays of the sun, and Rodriguez shook his head in astonishment and said something while he put food and water down. Thursty beyond belief James grabbed for the water-tube made of goat’s leather, but was stopped by a foot that clamped down on his already bruised hand - „No!“ Rodriguez shook his head again and waved for his men. He still had his foot on his captive’s hand when two of his followers placed a heavy metal ring around Ellison’s strong neck. The slave-ring closed with a nasty noise, overly loud to the Sentinel’s ears, wighing down on James’ soul more than on his flesh. The two men laughed and Rodriguez chuckled with them. Then he lifted his foot and said something - and this time he did not stop James from taking the water. He even left the leather tube with his prisoner, which was good because James would not have been able to eat the hard lump of bread hadn’t he soaked it in water first. And so the knight survived one more day, walking closer to the mountains in the far distance.

When night fell, he looked up to the northern star and knew that Blair was watching this beacon too. And that thought alone gave him the strength to live on despite the heavy weight that cut into his neck and made sleep almost impossible.

Chapter 24

Blair sighed softly: The morning sun painted the walls of Iverntake a pretty pink, but as beautiful an image this was, he knew that now the hard part of his mission started. The guards at the front door would not likely let him in and he guessed that the moment he would be giving his name, not only King Rafius but also Bishop Silvestrius would be alerted. And he did not want to cross the Bishop’s path just yet. So he left his two horses with the peasant who had let him sleep in his shed the other night - generous payment ensuring that the mares would still be there when he would be back - and made his way to the small, well hidden gate next to the kitchen and he ws lucky, too: While the morning star was slowly disappearing on the sunny sky, a group of beggars was spilling out of the gate, taking with them the remnants of last night’s banquet. Blair slipped in without being noticed by the cook. Who did notice him, however, was a small, thin monk with too large eyes in a too sad face. Peering at him from under the hood of his habit, the little monk gasped and whispered: „You are free?“ then snapped his mouth shut with an audible cluck. Sandburg grabbed the kid’s arm, too frail even under the heavy cloth of the habit, and whispered fiercly, willing to further intimidate the poor child:

„Yes, I am and what an odd question to ask. Why not ‘you are here?’“ Blair could feel the tremors that shook the small figure and his heart constricted in sympathy. But he had to get to the point and soon or his mission would be doomed from the start. His frightening-act was successful, though. The little monk lead him out of the kitchen into a dark hallway and whispered:

„Because my master has given orders to kidnap you. An assassin left Iverntake two days ago. My master said that now that your Lord is dead, you have no protection.“ At the hushed words Blair’s hand closed painfully on the kid’s arm.

„He is alive“, he hissed between clenched teeth. „Are you going to sell me to your Bishop?“ Blair knew that the answer was most likely worthless but he needed an excuse to lock the child away in some dark room, while he would try and find the king. But the small monk surprised him.

„I shall not tell my master.“ It sounded like a vow. „You looked away the day I stole food. Now I can thank you properly. You will need to see the king. I know where he is right now. And the Bishop is not with him. I promise. You will have another hour.“ With that the small kid ran through the hallways, Blair close at his heels. And Sandburg tried not to speculate just why the little boy knew so precicely that there would be another hour of undisturbed talk ...

The monk kept his word: He led Blair to a small, dirty passage that ended at a heavy cloth that turned out to be the tapestry in one of the king’s favorite rooms. And Blair was almost killed by a startled guard, when he slipped past the heavy woven cloth and suddenly stood in the back of the room. The King’s shout saved his life, though, and Blair fell to his knees and rose his right arm to show the heavy golden signet-ring. From then on it was surprisingly easy. Rafius might not have believed Blair Sandburg’s words - they seemed like a fairy-tale anyhow - but he believed the look in the young man’s eyes, the desperation he saw there and the hopelessness. And when he heard about Silvestrius’ scheme he quietly signed an order to his treasurer. „You know that I shall need that witness you were talking about. I cannot send Silvestrius back to Rome otherwise.“ There was a cold light in Rafius’ gentle eyes that spoke of sweet revenge. But Blair shook his head:

„Sire, if I am true, my Lord was being kidnapped on Silvestrius’ orders. How else would the Bishop know that James is supposed to be dead? Noone would be able to protect this witness from the wrath of this evil man. Not even your power would provide a sufficient shield. I cannot give you their name, your Highness, I am truly sorry.“ Blair cast his eyes down, desperately hoping that this talking would be over soon, because he really wanted to be in the saddle again.

„No, you are not, imp. But I understand. And I understand you will need a safe passage to Spain. I suggest you take the Pride of Britannia“ two more letters were handed over, and Blair had not even noticed that they had been written, one an order to the ship’s captain, the other one a charter, stating that the owner was acting on the king’s behalf, „the ship is waiting in Southampton harbour and going to Spain anyhow. The letter says the Captain has to take orders from you. Now run and God be with you.“ And Blair ran.

Chapter 25

He was already on horseback again, headed for Southampton, when a trusted messenger left Iverntake Castle. And because he had orders from the king the stranger made it to Alderthorpe in less than four days. It took him another day to find the assassin who had been hiding out in a nearby village, posing as a minstrel of all things. They were riding back to Iverntake during nighttime only and when they finally arrived were brought to a small, but well-armed hunting lodge, far enough away from the Bishop’s influence. It was going to be a long stay for the assassin.

At that time Blair, on the other hand, was already aboard the Pride of Britannia, despite it’s colorful name a merchand’s vessel, yet fast and well-kept. The Captain had objected at first but, after taking a good look at the king’s letter and the gold, Sandburg offered, was now steering the ship to the exact same harbour where Ellison had set foot on Spanish ground. The nights were somehow clearer in the south, the air crisper and the stars were shining brighter. Blair found himself on deck all the nights, heart pounding and anxious to catch another glimpse of James. Once or twice he thought he could feel the presence of his lover. But he had to wait for the last day of their journey, the spanish coast already visible on the horizon, yet unreachable due to ebb-tide, when Blair was pacing on deck like the caged animal he felt, when finally the visions hit again. During the day he had thought that he heard a large wolf howling and he immediately remembered the magic night at Stonehenge. His desperation grew when he realized that he had to wait till morning until he could continue his mission.

But that night he sat down at the stern of the Pride, no longer able to look at the coast, and when the stars slowly came to live he saw James’ eyes in the nightly sky, full of sadness and longing, and all he wanted was to bring some hope to them. „I am on my way, lover, it will not take long, I swear!“ he whispered, no longer caring who would listen to his words. And suddenly the tender brush of lips against his cheek left his skin tingly and warmed his lonely heart.

Chapter 26

James had not seen sunlight in days. The mercenaries’ hideout was a cold and wet cavern at the foot of the mountains, and they had yanked him uphill until his legs were bleeding and his head was throbbing again. Finally Rodriguez had ordered that a chain was secured to his slave-ring, and it was no surprise to James that the chain had been fastened to a loop in the cavern’s back-wall. Not even his superior eyesight had been able to catch some sunlight, shadows cast by the flames of a small fire his only illumination. He was not able to walk, could barely stand up properly, but what was the worst humiliation to his proud heart was that he had to relief himself in one corner of the cavern, his waste a constant reminder that he had no power, not a chance escape soon.

One thing helped, though: The darkness and the fact that the mercenaries left him alone except for bringing him something to eat or drink at irregular intervals, gave him time to think about his lover, his long, springy curls, his deep blue eyes, his slender but strong hands. A few short months ago he would never have believed how important survival would become, but now he clung to his life with a fierceness that surprised him. He was willing to endure everything just for the vague hope to get better, to heal up and to try and run as soon as there was a chance to get away. This was what he promised the image of his young lover every night, every time he thought about him. To get better, to gain strength and to run. He wanted to return home for the first time in his life, to smell the sweet scent of his lover again, to touch the soft skin of his cheeks.

Lately James thought that whenever he thought about Blair he saw the ocean, heard the waves crashing against the wooden planks of a large ship. Having learned that there indeed was a connection between the two of them, his heart was now torn: He feared for the safety of his lover, should he really come to his rescue, but he also yearned for one glance, a touch, a gentle kiss. With renewed strength he fought the desperation and concentrated on getting better: He needed to overcome the throbbing in his head and the pain whenever he took a deep breath. With clenched teeth, one muscle in his cheek spasming, he tried to get some much needed rest despite the slave-ring. The large cat looked at him with almost glowing blue eyes and purred reassuringly, the deep rumble soothing, a calming presence like Blair’s face he kept seeing, smiling with sad eyes.

Then James started to hear bits and pieces of conversations. He did not understand the foreign language well enough to decipher everything, but his knowledge had improved over the last few days, when ‘not understanding’ meant a kick against his already bruised back or a yank at the slave-ring that left his neck scratched and bleeding. And for the last few hours the mercenaries had been talking to each other, careless because they did not suspect that he could hear them at all and knowing that he had no real grasp of their language. What they did not know was that the Sentinel had always been very sharp-minded, forced by his very strict father to learn to read and write. So he now learned that they were leaving for a big city soon, which meant a lot of things. He began to lay out plans.

In case they left him in their hideout the cavern would be undermanned and he was already feeling better and would try to fight his way to freedom. If they were taking him with them, he could always try to escape as soon as they were close to any village or he could make an attempt at escape as soon as they would arrive in this town.

But when they finally came and yanked him out into the blinding sun, the light almost incapacitated him, and greyness threatened to overtake him. For long hours his only concern was not to slip into oblivion because he knew that they would kill him the moment he was not capable of keeping up with them. And the only thing that kept him going was Blair’s low voice, cosntantly telling him not to give up, for he, Blair, was so close, he would come for him soon.

Chapter 27

Blair Sandburg had bought a horse - a wonderful, slender and fast animal of arabian breed - as soon he had left the Pride of Britanny. With some food and lots of water he began his search for any trace of some ninety soldiers and a tall knight. The sun had soon tanned his dark complexion and with his long dark hair he almost looked like a native, although his use of the language was rusty at best and as long as he could hide his blue eyes, of course. But then the ladies serving cool strong wine in the small taverns at the dirty roads seemed to be captured by the light in these eyes and he used their advances to question them. At first nobody seemed to be able to help him, but as he travelled deeper into the countryside he heard the first rumors about a battle, where all the soldiers had been slaughtered. And as he got closer to the place that had been described as the battlefield, the stories changed, telling about a hero that had been killed, but had risen from the dead to hunt down the one who had murdered him.

When Blair finally found the battlefield, vultures in the sky his beacon, the plain had been cleaned by people and scavengers, the only traces of recent horrors large stains of blood that had soaked the sand. Whatever had been of any value, had disappeared, the only things left the horrible stink of decaying flesh and the bones not yet carried away by animals. The smell was overpowering and Sandburg, who had put so much hope in simply finding the place of his dream, who had thought that everything would be all right if he only could take a look at the battlefield, was almost falling off his horse, desperately vomiting while each of his breaths filled his lungs with the sickly sweet odor of death.

But just when he thought that everything was over, hunched on his knees and sweating under the hot sun, he felt James’s presence emerging from somewhere dark - the tall knight dressed in rags, a slave-ring fastened around his proud neck, was stumbling in the glowing sun - his eyes squinted against the blinding light - and all of a sudden Blair felt the pain that sliced through his Sentinel at this assault, felt the greyness take over the knight’s vision and he started to talk to his lover - although later he could not remember if he had actually spoken the words or just thought them - and James seemed to listen, seemed to be calmed by his soothing stream of words formed aloud or not, seemed to gather strength from the knowledge that ideed it were not only the same stars, it was the same air surrounding them now.

Finally Blair hauled himself into the saddle again, hours after no longer seeing James in his mind, and he sped away, to find yet another story that might have been woven around his lover’s whereabouts, another rumor, another trace of where James could be now. He thought he had seen the mountains in his vision - and he could see their silhouette now in the far distance, so he decided to go with the image he had caught while guiding his Sentinel back into reality. The wolf that had appeared at his side somewhen during the last couple of hours huffed in what could have been appreciation.

Chapter 28

The bond strengthened. Although James and Blair did not have a chance to reinforce their connection, the invisible current of glowing light that shimmered between them seemed to get stronger and stronger. Sandburg believed, wanted to believe, that this was him finally getting closer to his lover. His eagerness to learn something about the tall knight with the slave-ring made him careless, though. He looked back down the dirty road in the middle of the mountains and softly, gratefully patted the neck of his fast horse. It had been a narrow escape - he had to pay more attention the next time. Becaue when he tried to coax yet another story out of the lovely waitress, who had smiled at his sometimes funny attempts at her language, her face suddenly closed off when he mentioned mercenaries. She had left him alone and he should have taken it as a clue. But he had called her to his table again and again and finally she had given in and whispered: „They were here..“ But all of a sudden a sturdy, elderly man had stood next to him to ‘bring the bill’ and his pockmarked appearance was less than friendly. There had been a threat in the air and he had left in a hurry, not one moment too soon: As he had mounted his horse, three other men had tried to catch up with the gallopping mare.

He definitely needed to be more careful, even if that meant that he would lose valuable time. The next tavern he found the next day, a small but clean boarding house and for a moment he contemplated to just stay there for the night, before he dropped the idea in favor of some more miles on the road. His hair was dirty and scruffy, his leather tunic stained and he knew he did not smell too good. So he was grateful that they even served him some weak beer and bread and cheese. The woman who did the honors looked as if she was already fifty years old, her face wrinkled and her hair grey. But judging by the small children that called her momma she could not be more than thirty. People aged fast in this part of the country. She was a friendly lady, though. She took one look at Blair, seeing the hunched back, the tired, desperate eyes and the listlessness with which he was picking at the food and she treated the new - and only - guest with utmost care immediately. It was lunchtime and her two boys, about eight years young, demanded food and sat down next to him, used to strangers at their table.

/“/I am the knight, today!/“/, the older one cried out while he was fiddling with a knife.

/“/You are always the knight - I wanna be him next!/“/, the younger boy wheedled; /“/It is no fun that I always have to be the minstrel. I want to fight, too!/“/

/“/But you are not strong enough for the slave-ring!/“/ his brother insisted docmatically. Their mother ended the little quarrel by serving some soup, adding:

/“/You should let him play the knight, too. It is only a game, after all./“/

/“/But, mom! I’ve seen the knight.../“/ but the boy was silenced by a raised hand:

/“/And I say eat and keep quiet, we have a guest!/“/ She turned to Blair and smiled apologetically: /“/Boys, always playing stupid games about kings and heroes instead of helping their mother./“/ And Sandburg nodded dutifully, too tired to even think about what he had just heard. Then he startled, suddenly very alert and no longer bonetired:

/“/But they said something about a knight in a slave-ring?/“/ He held his breath, wanting the answer yet fearing it.

/“/Ah,/“/ a dismissive handwave did not quite accidentally slap the older boy’s head, /“/Jose here, he has heard a new story from a traveller; about a man who has been captured and brought to Cadiz. And a young minstrel is searching for him because he is a king. The slave, not the singer. It is just a story that was bartered for a bowl of soup./“/

But again the little boy interrupted, at the same time ducking another slap from his mother’s hand: /“/But, moooom, I have seen the knight! They didn’t take the main road, but I saw him./“/

The younger boy interrupted: /“/Jose was checking on the traps again. I told him he shouldn’t go alone, but.../“/ his brother’s palm across his mouth silenced him and Blair grinned a little crookedly at the exchange. His heart was tight with useless hope, and then Jose said something that brought the sunlight back into Blair’s soul; the boy muttered stubornly:

/“/I saw him. He wore a slave-ring, tall, short hair and blue eyes.../“/ then he continued his lunch in a huff. And Blair had to hold onto himself not to kiss the whole family.

Later he grinned at the irony: The storytellers had already spread the story, turning James into a king, himself into a minstrel. Hopefully, he realized, at least the information about the destination was correct.

„I am coming, lover. Wait for me - it’s not very much longer.“ While the horse trotted on, he kissed the golden signet ring on his thumb, warming the gemstone with his breath, turning the paw of the large cat into something alive in his mind.

Chapter 29

Some days ahead on that same trail, already at the foot of the mountains, James, Lord Ellison, was still tied to a chain on his slave-ring. The sun had burnt his skin, his sense of touch increasing the pain of breaking water-filled blisters. The whole time he either shivered with chattering teeth or was bursting into a sweat and he found himself being overly grateful for every drop of water Rodriguez would give to him. He knew that he was having a fever, due to the sun-burn, and that this was one of the reasons why he thought that the leader of the mercenaries could be his friend, but he had more and more difficulties to remember who and what he was. The only thing he never forgot, were the gentle eyes of his lover, who seemed to follow him all the time now. Sometimes even that large cat was back, purring and licking his wounds. He had the feeling that Blair was close now, that the young man somehow knew where they were headed, that Cadiz was their destination. And he hoped, while he carefully put one weary foot in front of the other, making one step at the time, trying not to stumble, that Sandburg would survive this ordeal, even if he probably would not.

„But I am trying Blair, I am trying to stay alive. I promise.“ He must have spoken aloud, because Rodriguez looked at him oddly and yanked the chain and all James could do was trying to keep from falling again.

Then the trail got better, the small dangerous mountain-path turning into a road again and Rodriguez ordered the horses, that had been led through the traiterous mountains, being saddled. For a single, hopeful moment James thought that, if he could hold imself upright on one of the animals, he could try to escape on horseback. But a smirking Rodriguez chained him to his own mare’s saddle before James was allowed to mount one of the unsaddled animals. This way any attempt to galopp away would mean that Ellison would strangle himself. Right now, though, the tall knight was just glad that he was sitting on horseback again, no longer forced to keep up the fast pace of Rodriguez and his men in his weakened condition. And after a while his only worry was to stay on horseback, the vicious tugs on his chain not only a constant reminder that he was at the sadistic mercenary’s mercy, but also a constant danger of falling down and being dragged along the ground.

Another yank on the chain cut deep into the flesh of his neck, the slave-ring leaving its marks in blood. But this time Rodriguez did not smirk any longer. The large black cat that hadn’t left James’ side, unseen by anyone but him, had snarled at the mercenary’s horse, and the frightened animal froze in place, not moving even though Rodriguez hit it with a stick. Then the large cat deliberately lashed out with one deadly claw, the paw going through the merc’s body and all of a sudden Rodriguez got pale and bent forward, clutching the right side of his abdomen. The display of weakness was over soon, but the mercenary was riding more cautiously now and had obviously forgotten to *accidentally play* with the chain of James’ slave-ring. The cat though seemed unimpressed, it just sat there licking its paw, biting its dagger-sharp claws, purring. And then James caught a whiff of Rodriguez’ scent: The tall man smelled like fear and pain, like sweat and like already decaying flesh.

Chapter 30

The closer Blair got to the city named Cadiz, the more people he met on the road and the more stories were told, some of them centering around a mysterious king and his minstrel and the mythic search they had to endure. He told himself, that this was a good sign after all, that he probably still was on the right track in his quest to find his lover. But there were also stories about people who just disappeared in Cadiz; about women who were captured in broad daylight, their guards slaughtered, just to be sold into some harem; about poisonous alkohol that would most likely kill you, but if you survived you found yourself chained to a rowing bench on one of the pirate’s ships that were one of the deadly dangers of the ocean; and about the slave-market that was held twice a year, where a trader could make a fortune by selling, for instance, black men, if he only lived long enough afterwards to enjoy all that money...

Without even thinking about it, Blair grabbed for the small leather purse that was tied around his neck, a reassuring weight, where the rest of his money and the king’s charter were securely hidden from all too nosy travellers. If the slave-ring around James’ neck was any indication, the mercenaries planned to sell his knight in Cadiz and Sandburg was sure that his money would be enough to pay a king’s ransom. He felt calm conviction now that he had finally made up his mind to go to Cadiz - the detour across the mountains in search of his captured love had exhausted his horse, the arabian breed not really cut out for narrow rocky paths. But now he was close, so close to the dangerous town, he thought he could almost smell it in the air. Then he heard, it was at least another week’s ride...

Chapter 31

James sniffed again - if he concentrated a little he could actually smell the stink of the large town called Cadiz. He had realized it about an hour ago. Not that any of the mercenaries knew how close they already were. But then - it was only his acute sense of smell that warned him - they would have to make camp once more under the stars. Even more so as Rodriguez seemed to be more exhausted than the rest of the gang, barely able to sit upright in the saddle, each step of his horse seemed to hurt him. Yet: If James had thought that he could use the man’s illness to his advantage he was disappointed as soon as the group stopped for the day. Two mercs were chosen to watch over him, his chain rattling again as it was pulled for hours until the men got tired of their cruel game.

The next day the group of mercenaries rode into the large town through one of the small side-gates at noon. It was hot and the air shimmered from heat. The smell of urine and cheap alcohol and even cheaper perfume from the brothels hung in the air while the men passed half rotten houses and broken walls, where children fled out of sight as soon as they recognised the man riding up front. Rodriguez seemed to be well known in this part of the town. And this particular part of the town seemed to be one of the worse slums - after all, Ellison’s superior sight showed him the richer parts of Cadiz up the hill: White villas and gardens and groomed flowers and well-armed guards bore witness to the fact that it was possible indeed to become rich in Cadiz. And that was about the last thing the Sentinel saw from the town, because Rodriguez had stopped at a once-white stone-house with a heavy wooden door and rammed his sword against it impatiently until it was opened by a brightly dressed young woman. She let them into the small yard of her house, a boy took care of their horses and James was lead downstairs to a small dark room. He was shoved and stumbled inside and then the door was closed and James could hear a heavy iron bolt fall into place. In the poor light of a slit in the wall high up close to the ceiling Ellison tried to break down the door but decided soon that his shoulder would break before this door would give in. Once again confined in a dark and lonely place he reached out with his mind to find his lover...

The images he got were jumbled, though. Maybe because every bone in his weary body ached from exhaustion, his shoulders and back were covered with sunburn, the blisters open and raw, some of them bleeding. The skin on his neck was covered in cuts, the open wounds burning like hell whenever the raw metal was touching them. And his boots, the only possession the mercenaries had left him, had not survived the long trail across the mountains, their holey soles no protection against the sharp stones. He had not eaten since last night and was thirsty. And when he closed his eyes he saw Sandburg sitting in one of the small taverns of this country, drinking and eating some soup and talking to people in this friendly way he loved so much and he was not entirely sure if he was hallucinating this or if he really saw those images - and then he began to laugh almost hysterically because now he tried to distinguish between two kinds of hallucinations, he was that crazy already.

So he was distracted when - hours later - a bowl filled with cooked corn and fish ad muscles and spices and a jug full of water were pushed through the door. He had never eaten anything better.

It was two more meals after that, when his large cat appeared again. It was sitting next to him, rubbing its tall head against his naked side and licking his slowly healing neck.

With a feeling of foreboding he once again concentrated on seeing his lover, the gentle touch of the cat’s tongue relaxing him. And then he saw: The late afternoon sun was painting reddish highlights into Blair’s long hair, the young man’s exhaustion showing in his face, his horse as tired as its rider. Yet Sandburg still was headed towards the big town, its misty silhouette visible in the far distance. He would be arriving there in mere twelve hours and from the look of determination in that tired face he would not stop before entering the main gates.

It was odd though, that Blair seemed to be alone on the road. This close to the city there should have been many travellers, not just the two pilgrims who were riding in front of him, their mules blocking the entire road. As the young man got closer, James’ bad feeling got even worse. Unable to help or even warn his young lover - not even knowing if what he saw was actually happening and not just another fever-dream - he watched as the two pilgrims moved their mules to each side of the road, making just enough room for Blair’s horse to squeeze itself past them.

The young man greeted politely and moved on, but suddenly the two men who had seemed so peaceful and calm, came to life, one grabbing the saddlenose of Blair’s horse that startled and tried to jump, the other one throwing a blanket over the young man’s head; Sandburg, blinded and almost strangled by the filthy cloth, lost his hold on the reigns of his mare and slipped out of the saddle, his mind ringing with the desperate shout „Blair!“ in his lover’s voice; He crashed to the ground, stunned by the force of his fall, and when he tried to wrestle himself free, there were ropes wound around his chest, immobilizing his arms and keeping the smelly blanket in place. „James, I am sorry, so sorry, so sorry!“ he mumbled over and over, too desperate to think about anything else, too tired to put up fight, to sure that now everything was over. No not everything. Maybe, when every hope he still nursed to find James was gone, he would eventually kill himself so that he did not have to live without his lover. And then, eventually, it would be over. He could not see but felt the wolf next to him, when he finally was hauled onto one of the mules, packed away like a sack of corn, another blanket thrown over him so that noone would realize that this was a human being tied to the animal.

In his dark cell the Sentinel howled in desperation, frantically tearing at the chain and his slave-ring, breaking newly-healed skin, throwing himself against the securely locked door until the large black cat crouched in front of him, hissing and spitting and growling until he sat back down again and let grief envelope him. The guard who finally opened the door a split-fraction, a heavy chain securely in place, after it had been quiet for a long time inside that holding-cell, caught a look at a man sitting motionless like a statue, blue eyes alive with hatred and determination and something more that sent chills down the hardened mercenary’s spine.

Chapter 32

Blair was almost unconscious when - after a restless night spent bound and covered with that damned blanket next to a small fire - he was finally passing the gates of Cadiz. The two pilgrims - well-armed thugs with a mission or so it seemed, - had thrown him over the saddle of one of their mules again, the cover obviously perfect because none of travellers Blair had heard during the long hours of their trip had been suspicious about the odd package - or maybe they were just too intimidated to do anything about it. After passing the town’s gates Blair had tried to pay attention where he was brought. At first there had been many people, chatting and haggling over food and wine. The sounds had changed after a while and he had deciphered two men bargaining over the price of jewellery, while the mules and his horse were clip-clopping over the stones of a walkway. Finally the noises of market-places and taverns subsided in favor of some children shouting cheerfully and the soft voices of women, calling for the kids. Eventually that stopped too and the only sounds he heard were birds chirping - and he feared that he had been brought out of Cadiz again, wishing fervently that he might be wrong. Then the clip-clop of hooves stopped and a creaky gate was opened. And suddenly he was hauled off the saddle and he got dizzy when all the blood left his head as he was forced to stand up. With a last frantic beat of his heart that thundered in his ears he passed out.

Chapter 33

In the holding cell somewhere in the middle of Cadiz the tall, silent knight whinced and struggled to stay conscious. The large cat at his side licked his clenched fists soothingly.

When Blair came to some time later he was lying on the floor in a room with air-slits under the ceiling instead of windows, a large bed with a clean-smelling mattress in one corner, clean sheets invitingly untucked, a table with a basin full of water, towels, even two finely crafted chairs and a wooden chest adding to a feel of holey comfort. There was even a commode included, the toilet-chair so new and fashionable, he almost smiled. What was frightening the young man, though, was that somebody had not only bothered to undress him. His kidnappers had also taken the small purse with all his money and the king’s charter that would have opened a lot of doors for him and - he realized as he desperately clutched his hand - James’ signet-ring was gone as well. Resignedly he got up from the hardwood floor only to discover that food and wine had been brought into the cell as well. While he listlessly munched on some fish that tasted like chalk to him, he looked around the room, noticing the locked door and finally went over to the chest standing opposite the door next to the large bed.

He opened the heavy lid and huffed a surprised gasp: Inside were some beautiful long shirts, somewhat uncommon for Spain, but a taditional costume for his own people or for the men of Arabia. For a moment Blair hoped desperately that his family, though not originally from Spain, had somehow found out what he had been doing and now just tried to ‘rescue’ him. But then he saw the rich embroyderies that adorned the dresses of different size that were neatly folded in the chest. No, these were Djellabas, and he was in the hand of an Arabian. Who were known to be learned people, scientists, he tried to cheer himself up - but then they also were known to be slave-traders and assassins. He sighed deeply. It was useless to speculate. He would eat a bit, then wash himself and get dressed. Maybe after that he would be calm enough to concentrate on his lover. It had been days since he had seen James in his mind and he longed for his knight.

Blair was feeling a lot better when he finally settled down on the bed in his cell that didn’t look like a cell at all. - wouldn’t whoever had captured him have thrown him into a real cell if he had meant to harm him at one point - and the bed was truly magnificent, he thought when he snuggled into the soft pillows. When he closed his eyes, the first he saw was the large cat, - a panther, he had learned during his trip through Spain - that was practically smiling at him. James was hunched into one corner of a dark cell, not able to lie down because of the slave-ring still wound around his neck, but he looked better than the last time he had ‘seen’ him: The bruises on his body, huge ugly green and black spots where he had been kicked and hit, had already vanished, the sunburnt shoulders seemed to have healed, too, the only reminder of his violent encounter with the too-hot sun parts of fresh skin that were pink instead of tanned. Only James’ neck still showed signs of cuts, the metal and the chain a constant irritant.

„James...“ he whispered, not knowing if his lover could actually hear him. The Sentinel jerked in his dark corner, his face suddenly aglow:

„You are alive?“ His voice soft and husky with longing, full of wonder.

The knight said it like a prayer. For the last day he had tried to make a connection with Blair but had not been successful - he had not yet given up hope but deep in his heart where he did not dare to go, he admitted that he had been frightened to death his wonderful young lover had been killed by those two thugs. Now that he ‘saw’ Sandburg, sensed the heat of his lover’s body, recognised the courage in those blue eyes, he felt a staggering weight lifted from his shoulders. With his mind he reached out to the young man and gently stroked the tanned cheeks of the beloved face, and Blair, whereever he might be at the moment, closed his eyes as if the caresses were real, and to him it probably felt like that because suddenly James’ sense of touch picked up the wetness of the tip of a tongue that traced his cheekbones. And for the first time in weeks both men slept, guarded by a panther and a wolf and some clueless thugs who were standing in front of tightly closed doors.

Chapter 34

When James woke up the next morning he was rested and his spirits were lifted. For the first time in ages it did not matter to him that - again - he had to relief himself in one corner of his cell, that he was filthy and sweaty and his skin was itching because he needed the water to drink. All that mattered to him was his deeprooted belief that Blair was still alive, still somewhere in this doomed city and as soon as he, James, had a chance to escape he would go and look for his lover. He concentrated hard and listened to the noises of the house, focussing for the first time on his new quest: To break free and save Blair. He almost stopped when he was not able to understand one word of the chatter of two boys, but finally convinced himself that they probably used the heavy, musical dialect of this part of the town.

What little he could understand, though, came from Rodriguez, who was obviously resting in one of the upstairs bedrooms, the woman, Juanita, who owned the house, at his side. Rodriguez, it seemed, had not left the bed because he was feeling ill, having cramps and vomiting fits and a fever that refused to go down. James looked at the large black cat that was still sitting in the middle of his cell, absorbed in grooming itself, and shuddered. Too vividly he remembered the incident on the road. Juanita, hotblooded spanish flower, was not very happy with her lover’s condition and tried to talk him out of something. It took James some time but then he remembered the meaning of the word: Rodriguez wanted to bring him to the slave-market one of these days, then, the mercenary promised, he would come back and let himself be .. again James was not sure about the meaning of the word but suspected by the sound of it that it probably meant babied.

So this would be his chance: A weakened Rodriguez who would bring him to the slave-market could be outwitted. James started a slow workout to loosen his stiff muscles. He would need his strength soon.

Blair realized that he had been more exhausted that he had cared to admit to himself. Last night, after revelling in the feeling of James’ body-heat and James’ dream-touch after such a long time he had fallen asleep with a smile on his face and he hadn’t woken when food and water and the contents of the commode had been removed and replaced. When he finally opened his eyes, not knowing how long he had actually slept, everything was in order again and he did not have a clue to who his capturerer was.

James seemed to be fine though. From time to time Blair tried to connect and always got a warm fuzzy feeling of reassurance, a plea to stay safe until help would arrive. So the young man did as he was told. He gathered his strength, slept long and ate whatever was served.

Chapter 34

Two more meals later - the only means of time-measurement for James in his dark cell - there was a rattle at the door and the heavy iron bolt was removed as was the security chain that kept the door from opening too far. The bright light of a torch sliced through James’ sensitive eyes and blinded him for long moments. When he got his sight under control again and after the pounding in his head stopped, it was already too late. Another chain had been closed over his left foot and his right arm and he was no longer able to fight for his freedom. Yet he did not admit defeat - he would get his chance today, he knew it, to gain freedom and find Blair.

They led him upstairs and yanked him into the small yard of Juanita’s house. While he was secured by two mercenaries holding his chains, a shy young girl scraped off his beard that had been growing for some weeks now, while two old women poured oil over his back and chest. Clumsily they rubbed the fluid into his almost hairless skin, obscuring the marks from the sunburn with the dark oil, toothless grins disfiguring their faces. Finally they tore away the rags that had covered his groin and - after clucking appreciatively - replaced them with a clean loincloth. He could not help but flinch away from their hands that were all over him.

Rodriguez and three of his men were escorting him - They were on horseback, Rodriguez riding up front, from time to time clutching his lower abdomen with a sweaty right hand. James could not shake the feeling that the smell of decay emanating from the mercenary had further increased since he had last seen him. James of course had to walk, the chain attached to his slave-ring held tightly by one of the mercs that had taken him between their horses, complaining that his steps were done small and with difficulty, as the chain on his ankle and arm was constricting him. The fourth man who brought up the rear was snickering whenever James stumbled and had a long stick with which he encouraged the knight to go faster.

With sinking hopes James had to admit to himself that there was no chance that he could escape right now. He tried to concentrate on Blair, but was not able to conjure up an image of his lover and that frightened him further. Then they stepped out from one of the smaller streets onto a broad avenue and were surrounded by a moving mass of people, talking, chattering, laughing, haggling, colors everywhere, the sheer amount of sounds and - even worse - smells like sweat, urine, waste, food and perfumes an oppressive assault on the Sentinel’s senses that almost made him slip into the grey zone. Only the knowledge that Blair was most likely in danger, that he had to do something, anything, to get free and search for his lover, gave James the tool to stay in control.

Finally the crowd spilled out onto a large square near the harbour, - James was able to smell the stink of rotten fish and brackish seawater, - and Rodriguez lead them to a wooden booth where a tall man with cold black eyes and braided auburn hair seemed to wait for them.

/“/You were right this time, Rodriguez, this one is going to fetch high prices. You know of course that my rate is higher this time. The last two you brought died after mere two weeks on a rowing bench and I had to compensate the buyers./“/ The slave-trader looked at Rodriguez to gauge his reaction to this words, but the mercenary, face white and sweaty, just shrugged, then whinced at the motion and nodded.

/“/Whatever, Claudius. Just remember next time, that this one is a bargain.../“/ As if the conversation had worn him out, Rodriguez winked and his men dragged James onto the small stage and tied the neck-chain to an iron post that had been rammed into the dirty ground. James yanked experimentally at the chain, but neither it nor the post itself moved. People started to gather around the booth, talking about the slave’s attributes and James knew enough of the language right now to know exactly what they were talking about. He cringed again, then decided not to give those lowlifes the satisfaction to see his desperation.

With a deep breath he stood straight, his eyes fixed onto the hills in the distance, their fresh green colors soothing to his hurting eyes, and tried to smell the fresh air that would fill the gardens he could see there. His unfocussed gaze fell onto a man riding a beautiful white horse, arabian breed from the looks of it and while Claudius started to describe the slave who was to be sold soon, James allowed himself to admire the grace with which that horse raced down the hill and into the more crowded parts of Cadiz. Claudius now tried to coax the knight into posing, but Ellison just shrugged out of the grip, his oiled skin making it easy to escape the grabbing hands. The chains clanked, then he was a statue once more and Claudius started to get impatient with Rodriguez.

The rider on the white horse had already made it to the main avenue that lead to the square where the slave-market was held. James was now able to take a closer look. The man had to be a Nubian, his black skin a hard contrast to the gold-embroidered white Djellaba he was wearing. The sun was reflecting from a bald head and despite the crowd of people that were milling around the horse still was going fast. A dirty child grasped for the silk ribbons that were adorning the mare’s reigns and the bald rider used his horsewhip to shoo the kid away. Then he stopped and looked around. For a moment James thought that the Nubian had looked at him with sharp darkbrown eyes, then the man turned his head and rode on, out of James’ sight, who would not want to turn his head.

Claudius was again yanking at Ellison’s chain but to no effect at all and the bidding started. The price went higher and higher, urged on by the slave-trader’s enthusiastic comments about the knight’s strength and loyalty. James chose not to listen. When they were at 50 gold dublons, already too high a price for a simple slave, the biddings came to an end. And then a deep, nasal voice, used to demanding authority, said calmly:

„500“ The tall black man, sitting on his amazingly gracefull arabian white horse, turned in his leather saddle to look at the booth with an incredibly bored expression on his face, absentmindedly fiddling with the large signet-ring on his left hand.

Claudius yelled: /“/sold!/“/

Rodriguez cringed in pain once again.

And James Lord Ellison, Count of Alderthorpe, roared in blind rage, and - with inhuman strength,- ripped the chain that tied his arm to his leg to pieces, then tore the iron pole out of the ground and swung it like a club. The white horse startled and jumped, not graceful at all, most likely saving it’s master’s life, and Claudius grabbed a wooden stool and smashed it on James’ head. Slowly the knight’s world faded to black - the last thing he saw was the sunlight reflecting from a signet ring with a black gemstone, its coat of arms showing the claw of a large cat, his last thought a sad farewell to his lost love. Then nothing mattered any more.