by Pfantazm
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Sir Madoc waited patiently by the door to the war room. He worked at
calming himself sufficiently to be able to report to Sir Rhys
dispassionately.
The head Guard, military advisor to the King, was some time in arriving. When he did arrive in his pristine white tabard, he looked Sir Madoc up and down. He was soaked, dripping on the stone floor, and he was muddied from the waist down. "I see you came straight here. Come in." Madoc waited while Sir Rhys entered the room and sat down. Then he came in, closed the door and stood at attention. "I've already heard Lady Rumor's telling of the tale, but I'd rather hear from you exactly what happened at practice today." Madoc detailed Bryn's earlier conflict with Sir Trustan, and his involvement therein. "Some time later I went to the courtyard to ask Sir Peleas how Thom was doing. Bryn asked if I would spar with him. During our match, he made an aggressive move to my face. Once, it might have been accidental. Twice, it was done with malice. "I decided that Bryn was not sparring with me, but fighting, and I acted accordingly. I fenced, not to train, but to win." Sir Rhys waited, then said, "And win you did. But there was a final altercation, wasn't there?" "Yes, sir. When I ended our sword fight, I left Bryn lying on the ground. He got up and tried to attack me. I hit him and this time he stopped." "Did he touch you?" "No, sir." "Did you see him?" "No, sir." "Hear him?" Madoc swallowed and turned pale. He saw what Sir Rhys was driving at. "No, sir, I didn't." He turned his head down. "Please look at me, Sir Madoc. You're not in trouble. However, you did not, in fact, know that Bryn was trying to grab you, did you?" "Sir, I--" The words died in his throat. "Yes?" "I can't explain. But I knew he was about to attack." "And any number of witnesses will attest that he was about to do just that. No one had time to call out in warning to tell you." Madoc did not know what to say. "Let's talk about Thom. He is not who he appears to be, is he?" Madoc hesitated. "No, sir, he is not." "He's the Dark Rogue, in fact. King Dunstan thought I should know who I was accepting into my guard. And yet you used his help in gathering the items Eleazar asked for in Cairncross. There's an outpost not three miles from Cairncross. You could have had him delivered to Aragon instead of bringing him along. You didn't." Madoc was shaking. "No, sir." "Sir Madoc, don't worry. This isn't an enquiry into any wrongdoing on your part. There are some details I'd like to hear that didn't come out in court. "Instead of sending him here and having him executed, you might say he's changed sides. He is now one of us. While I don't recommend this tactic with every criminal you capture, it seems to have worked in this case. My question is, how could you tell so quickly?" Madoc's face was blushing red. "We...." "Let me help you. You and Thom are... more than friendly, yes?" Madoc nodded. "Did you feel this way before you came to Cairncross?" "No, sir." "Then how did you know?" Madoc simply stared. "You can't say, can you? It's not that you want to hide any secret. You just don't have any answer to give, is that right?" "That's it exactly, sir," he said, at once relieved and more nervous. Sir Rhys smiled. "I will be most interested to hear what befalls you over this mission. "You are to capture Kraid, and as many of his Marauders as you can. If one or two escape, then no matter. We want Kraid, and we also want his henchman, a most cruel man by the name of Damon. "Begin by meeting Sir Bastian, a mage, at the outpost at Karelia. The Marauders seem to center around that area, on both sides of the Greypoints. Sir Bastian will describe his talents to you there. "Once you have captured as many of the Marauders as you can, you are to return here and report to me. The men themselves will already have been executed. There will be no trial, at least none that you must attend; their fate is sealed. "Have you any questions?" "No, sir." "Good. I wish you good fortune on your mission. I suspect, however, that you won't be needing it." Sir Rhys stood up and shook Madoc's hand. "You are dismissed." Relieved that it was all over, Madoc left the room to get changed. Madoc looked into the dining hall. Sir Fergus was staring at him. There was an empty seat at his side. Fergus, he recalled, was one of the other two guards who had been part of the team sent to capture Thom. He was also rather dense at times. Madoc started to run after his partner, doubled back, grabbing half an apple, which he knew was Thom's favorite food. "I'll be back for the rest," he told the server. Madoc ran back down the passageway until he reached a fork. A pair of maids were chatting in the hallway. "Where did he go?" he asked. They pointed toward the door to the smithery and the armory. He ran off at full tilt. He by-passed the hot area of the smithery; Thom wouldn't be comfortable there. He pushed open the door to the outside and scanned his surroundings. The rain had stopped and the clouds had parted enough to allow the pale golden light from the Flier moon to shine down. Thom was nowhere in sight. Madoc went to the center of the courtyard and looked around. The armory was empty. There were some doors and passages to other areas of the castle, but which one Thom might have taken, Madoc couldn't tell. Madoc stood and thought. `He's been this way. He said he wanted to be away from this place, but he can't leave the castle, not if he's carrying a tray of food. He's hiding but he wants me to find him. `The courtyard here is quiet enough, so he doesn't need to keep going. He must be here.' Still Madoc searched, following the wall now, but still unable to find his love. Madoc began to fret. Then he saw the tray, sitting on the flagstones. Between the armorer's shed and the outside wall was a small space, and this is where Thom sat. The gentle breeze tried to play with his bushy blond hair. His usually bright hazel eyes were downcast. Madoc knew Thom was aware of his presence, probably had been since he entered the courtyard. He offered him the half-apple he'd snatched before chasing after Thom. Thom looked up at him and smiled. He accepted the apple. Madoc crouched down, unable to ask the question he desperately needed to ask. Thom answered anyway. "I thought it would be so simple. Just you and I righting the wrongs of the land like I always tried to do, but with the King's blessing. It's all so different though. There are so many rules, the King would rather see me fail, the other guards don't know what to do with me, and the only one I can talk to is Dorian and they're trying to kill him too." He took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm afraid, Madoc." The confession surprised him. He didn't think much of anything would frighten Thom. Madoc tried to help. "I know our king. He doesn't want to see you fail. He simply doesn't think you'll succeed." Thom glared at him. "I don't think you realize what the difference is there. If he wanted you to fail, you would be dead now, and so would I. "Was it something somebody said that brought all this on?" Thom nodded, looking down again. "Sir Fergus?" Thom smiled and nodded again. "He's a blowhard, but he's harmless." Madoc lifted Thom's chin to look into his eyes. "This was your thirteenth day here. Tomorrow we ride off to meet Bastian and find Lennox. You know that we can't..." Madoc checked the battlements above to see if any bored castle guards were eavesdropping. "Not here. Can you last one more night?" Thom put his head back. A smile slowly crept across his face. "Yes." "Don't worry. Our motives are true. We'll perform this duty for the King and we'll be fine." Madoc laid his hand on Thom's shoulder. "We'll be fine," Thom repeated. "Eat up now. You'll need your strength for tomorrow. I'll get my dinner and I'll join you." As Madoc went back to the dining hall, he felt immense relief that he'd been able to make Thom feel better. Whenever Thom felt down, it made Madoc more nervous, made him wonder what he might have done wrong, or what he wasn't doing that would make it better. He collected his tray and returned to the armory wall to find Thom starting to pick at his food. Two half-cores lay on his tray. Madoc sat down leaning against the other wall in Thom's little cubbyhole. He set the tray in his lap and picked up his spoon to start on his stew. Thom was scooping his up with his bread. "Is everything all set for tomorrow, save the last of our equipment?" Thom asked. "Almost. I'll be getting one last chance at a message by pigeon about Kraid's whereabouts. Other than that we're set." "Good. It'll be nice to get back out to the country. More freedom there." "Yes," Madoc said, "but don't forget that we have a job to do." "I know, but even in that, we'll have more freedom to do the job how we please. We still have to follow the Code of Chivalry, but most of it is just common sense from what I understood. Except for the occasional lapse," Thom said, winking, "I was following it before." "If you have any questions about it, you can ask me. I know the Code quite thoroughly. I'll be able to help you practice your swordsmanship as well." "I've heard you've been practicing your swordsmanship," Thom teased. "You, sir, are the talk of the keep." Madoc stopped, bread almost to his lips. "What do you mean?" "You, slashing away at one of the castle guards like a madman in the middle of the courtyard, and then whirling around and knocking his block off before the lad could even think of retaliating? And all this happened just about the time I left, too. I'm sorry I missed it." Thom grinned at him. "I didn't want to have to do it. He angered me." "I must be sure never to get you angry then. Here you sit, still a guard, while they threw your sparring partner out on his ear." "What?" "For conduct unbecoming of a guard, so says Lady Rumor. She also says he took some swipes at your head while he was fighting you?" "Yes, he did. I thought they'd only reprimand him." "A lot of people seem to get punished harshly when you're around. Both Tybalt and Eleazar were severely dealt with. Tell me, what did happen? Why was the castle guard so bloodthirsty?" Madoc told him the whole story, including the reason why Bryn had been picking on Trustan. "That's appalling! There's no call for that! And I suppose he went after you for the same reason." Madoc nodded silently. "Are you alright?" "I'm fine," he said. "Are you sure? You sound down. You did the right thing, Madoc. That kid was trouble." "I suppose...." "You don't agree? Madoc, what if he'd decided to come after me instead? It wouldn't take a scryer to figure out that if you like men, and you are the only High Guardsman to get a partner, what does that say about me?" Madoc looked up, shocked. "Please keep your voice down." "If he'd decided to pick a sword fight with me instead of you, he could have put out my eye. I'm not nearly as good as you. I would have been an easy target. Would you have been good and angry then?" "Yes, I know I would." "Then think of this as the better outcome where you stopped him before he did it. A man with that kind of hatred has no place here. We're better off rid of him." "You're right," Madoc said, still sounding down. "What I don't understand is why you seem to be more sad about the whole affair, and not pissed off like you should be. Madoc, he would have taken your face off today, or worse if he'd had steel in his hands instead of oak, and the only reason why is because someone was looking at him in a way he didn't like and you interceded." "I shouldn't have lost control in the courtyard. I could have hurt him just as badly." "From what I heard, Madoc, you didn't do anything Sir Peleas wouldn't approve of in a match. You were just more... intense. Quit beating up on yourself, heh? Save some of the beating for Kraid?" Madoc grinned, his mood lifting. "I'll try." Thom gave him a funny look. "Alright, I will." He'd checked earlier, and he hadn't heard anything since. Only weak light from the Flier moon could reach them here. Madoc risked taking Thom's hand in his. "Thank you." Thom gave his hand a squeeze. "You're most welcome." They spent the rest of the time talking about everything and nothing until late in the evening when they returned, each to his own room. He is in his chambers, in bed. There is a knock at the door. Madoc rises, naked, and pulls a sheet around his shoulders, like a cloak. Sir Trustan stands there and asks to come in. Madoc bids him to enter. Trustan moves next to Madoc and closes the door. He stands intimately close and looks deep into Madoc's eyes. He grips a loose fold of blanket, gently urging them together. The knight-errant kisses Madoc, his hands diving into the blanket to seek Madoc's flesh. Trustan grips him tight and grinds against his bare hip. He's hard, and Madoc's erection is growing. Trustan pushes Madoc back to the bed. The High Guardsman does not protest. He falls backward onto the bed and climbs on top, still clothed, and kisses him, urgently and deeply. Trustan undoes the tie at his chest, loosening his shirt. "I know you want this," he says. "I could see it in your eyes. You're going to love it." The knight-errant stands on his knees over Madoc's body and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a youthfully packed chest, lean and strong. A fine covering of hair adorns the space between his nipples and down to his stomach. He stands up, shucking his boots and turns around. His hands slither into his waist and rub his hips before pulling his pants downward. Madoc admires his seducer's beautiful ass, round and full inside the sheer, white smallclothes. Trustan turns once more. His underthings are stretched by the large organ inside. He arches his back, thrusting his hips forwards. Trustan flexes his ass, his chest, his back, sending small ripples of tensed muscle across his body. His cock strains too, quaking slightly as it tries to free itself from bondage. One of the knots holding Trustan's underwear finally gives way, allowing his penis to lurch forward right at Madoc. The defeated loincloth falls to the floor, and Trustan is revealed, still stretching every muscle in statuesque glory. Trustan relaxes, gazing dreamily into Madoc's eyes. The knight-errant's dark eyes seem to be drawing him in, ever closer until again Trustan's mouth is on his, and their cocks brush against each other. Trustan holds Madoc's head while his tongue makes sweet love to his mouth. He humps up until only their lips touch, and then sinks slowly, effortlessly onto his hard cock, wrapping it in warmth. The brunet's body rises and falls slowly, massaging his member with long strokes. He sits up straight, bracing himself on Madoc's chest. Madoc twists his spine and moans. His hands caress his own sides, then Trustan's legs and then his ass. He squeezes the asscheeks, feeling them bulge as Trustan fucks himself on Madoc's tool. "Come on, Madoc," he says throatily. "Let me have it. I want it all. You can do it. Give me what I want." "Ohhh, I want to. Just keep going, and you'll get it," Madoc replies. "I'm so close... you're so good...." Trustan's breathing is deep and steady, but it rises in pace. His mouth opens wide, but all that comes out is a strangled sigh as Trustan cums. His seed flies out, washing over the ridges of Madoc's smooth chest, bathing him in the essence of the younger man. Madoc jams his cock up into Trustan and his own cum explodes inside of him. Trustan is truly riding him now, as he is forcefully lifted off the bed by Madoc's hips. His juices splash around the inside of his knightly brother's guts. Madoc's body drops, exhausted, back to the bed. Trustan leans forward to lie on Madoc's stomach. Thom is standing behind him. "Well, Madoc?" he says. Madoc sat up bolt upright, alone in his dark room. The only reality of the encounter was in the stickiness around his own legs. He had cum. He cleaned himself up as best he could in the dark. He looked out the window. The moons were setting. It would only be a few hours before dawn. He could do with the soiled sheets for that time. Madoc had dreamed about sex before, even while here in Dragon's Keep, but his partner had always been Thom until now. With all the... distractions he was having with other men, this dream meant to serve as a warning. Before they split up for their separate tasks, he would have to tell Thom about the dream. His conscience would require no less. He looked around his room, now coldly empty. He'd never done much to mark the room as his own, but now, stripped of his possessions, it felt different. The room would still be reserved for him - there were few enough High Guardsmen for that - but he wondered if it would ever truly feel like home again. He silently shut the door behind him and went to pick up his supplies from the quartermaster. Once he was fully equipped, he outfitted Fleetfire. As he prepared, he began to feel some excitement. He would be with his Thom again, and henceforth they would be together forever. He hummed an old tune he'd not heard or thought of since his childhood, since before-- no. He was not going to brood. Today was for celebration of the new turn his life was taking. He would have to live for Thom, not for the past. Madoc waited by the gate for his partner to arrive. Jerome came and went, reporting that no new messages had arrived with word of Kraid's movements. Finally Thom appeared. He was walking his new midnight-black horse to the gate. His unkempt blond hair shone in the reddish dawn sunlight. His pretty hazel eyes sparkled. He wore a leather cuirass as Madoc himself did, with a brilliant white shirt underneath and his new green tabard, straight and perfect over top. Madoc was taken aback by how well the clothes and uniform accentuated his lithe body. He'd only really seen his love in the shadowy costume of the thief before. He stood proud at just under six feet in his new identity. Madoc's mouth was hanging open and his cock was hard as stone. "Are we ready to leave?" Thom asked. "Yes," Madoc replied, breathless. "Good. Let's be off." Madoc watched his partner's ass as he mounted his steed. He shuddered and his member twitched. He wasn't sure he'd be able to last until that night when they could finally couple once more. As they rode through the streets of Aragon, he noticed many citizens watching them. Thom seemed to be getting the attention of a number of young women (and also some men). He looked to Thom and thanked Katusha for Her gift of luck in winning his heart. Usually Madoc didn't think twice about the gods, but something had to have happened to bring Thom his way. He just hoped whatever it was, it wouldn't run out. | ||
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