by Pfantazm

Among other things, the site says that warlock derives from an old Scottish word meaning `traitor' or `oath-breaker'. Male Wiccans are referred to as witches, never as warlocks. Since I am very interested in words, and since I've already created a magical system that has warlocks, I may be in a bit of trouble. I have not used this word as a slur against anyone, real or fictional, and I was not aware of its derogatory origins. (I bet most of my readers weren't either till I pointed it out just now.) The characters in my story do not follow Wicca. They have their own gods to deal with. I mean no offense here.

If someone really wants to be offended, they will be. Guaranteed. (If you find that statement offensive, think hard about that little paradox.) This is why the PC movement failed. A racist can say "African-American" with just as much hatred and venom as they can say anything else. Such people do not need their mouths washed out with soap. They need their brains cleaned. (But don't ask me about queer. That's one I can't figure out.)

I use the word warlock here in its common modern usage, as a male practitioner of magic whose female counterpart would be called a witch. In Thom and Madoc's universe, such people are feared but accepted. It is not intended as an insult to anyone, real or fictional.

Post Script: I've found a workaround for this. I've edited this part of the story to reflect it. Now anyone who uses external means to perform magic is a wizard, with no distinction as to their sex, as before, and those with an internal magical source, like Sir Bastian, without having to refer to their sex, will be called a mage. There's still a difference between the sexes among mages, but I haven't really gone into it yet.

If you want to discuss any of this further, or if you want to comment on the story that's coming up any minute now, write me at pfantazm-at-hotmail-dot-com.

I won't advertise religions. I refuse to be PC. I will advocate safe sex. Use a condom if you and your friends get inspired by what I, other authors at Nifty, or Dr. Seuss write.

Oh, and see if you can figure out what's so special about the words `lighting it with his finger' in the story.

	insinuating itself into every pocket amongst the trees. A few stalwart birds, who would be toughing it out through the winter ahead, were calling out to one another. Incautious worms and grubs were gradually cleaned from the forest floor. The barest hint of a wind threaded through the leaves of one particularly tall tree and reached the body of a thin redheaded man, who slept still. Here the strengthening daylight was filtered through a lush canopy of foliage, reducing it to almost nothing. Every once in a while the wind would help the sun pierce the leaves to leave a bright mark on the uneven floor beneath the sleeping man, but the branches would swing right back to block them out. Lennox screamed. He had fallen asleep and they had thrown a net over him. Another one gripped him to drag him away. He clawed at his attacker and kicked to get the net away. The assailant yelled for reinforcements. Lennox was helpless. The man who held him in his grip rolled on top of him to keep him immobile. His arms were ravelled in the net and he couldn't push away. The attacker barked out Lennox's name, but he would not surrender. He would find a way to run. He felt a hot wetness at his neck. Lennox was confused. The Marauder was licking his neck. Lennox stopped to look. "Well, at last. Good morning to you, Lennox." "Oh, Thom. I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?" "Not really. There's not much room to move in these things. But you've loosened us up a bit." He smiled. The redheaded fugitive felt himself cry as the immediate fear faded. "Here, now, no need to cry. If I have to go through this every morning until you feel safe again, I will." Thom kissed him on the cheek. He sobbed. Thom rolled again until Lennox was on top. The new knight stroked his body and kissed his lips and neck until he stilled. Lennox hadn't even noticed he'd been shivering. Now less tense, he began to kiss back, and moulded himself across Thom's frame. The wind still disturbed the leaves above. A branch creaked. The sun shone brightly down upon the route in and out of the safehouse. Lennox pressed his tongue into Thom's mouth, wanting him. The head of his dick scratched against the hairs on Thom's stomach as he moved. The redhead pressed the crack of his ass back against Thom's cock, rubbing it. Thom pressed in between, rubbing his cheeks with his stiff member. Thom went back to licking at Lennox's throat, and the join between neck and shoulder. The blond's dextrous fingers caressed his sides, his chest, his back. Short whiskers scratched at his skin. Lennox wrapped his legs around Thom's. He was moaning, almost whimpering, as the knight's mouth covered his body. Thom hugged Lennox and asked, "How are you this morning? Can you eat?" Lennox nodded gravely. There had been a couple of times where he hadn't been able to keep his food down. He hadn't eaten properly in so long.... "Good, because I'm starving." Thom rolled over and laid Lennox on the floor like a child's doll. He freed himself from the blanket and went off to get food. The redhead shivered as early autumn breezes assaulted his body. He hastily pulled the blanket back around himself and followed behind Thom, hugging him. "How can you walk around naked in this weather?" he asked. His protector's trim, lithe body moved fluidly as he crossed the safehouse in the trees. "It's not really that cold. You just feel it more because you've only just started to eat properly again." He collected a couple of small sacks from the corner and they returned to where they'd laid. The former thief whipped away the blanket, sat down behind Lennox and wrapped the blanket around them both. Thom held him tight while they ate. The blond's cock was nestled between Lennox's cheeks again and he held the redhead's manhood with one hand. Lennox felt warm again in no time. Thom's touch was like fire. The redhead had been erect ever since he realized Thom was the one holding him down. Lennox owed Thom a lot. For rescuing him from the Marauders in the first place, he would have Lennox's gratitude forever. Thom had saved him again when he found him just a few days ago. If he was this cold now, how would he have survived the coming winter? Lennox owed Thom his life and more. Being together with him like this was torturous, though. It had also been Thom who had introduced him to all-male sex, and had been his partner in it every time. He felt more than a little infatuation toward Thom. Thom, however, had someone whom he loved and who loved him. Lennox couldn't interfere with that. He cared for Thom too much. He sat, kept safe and warm by his protector, unable to separate his feelings of friendship and love, and tried to eat. Lennox continued to sleep away most of the time while he and Thom rode. Thom had taken care of the cleanup after they'd broken their fast that morning. He had prepared the horse for travel and secured Lennox so he wouldn't fall off while he rested. He felt guilty, but Thom wouldn't hear of it. They were riding now. This looked like the King's South Road from Aragon to Karelia, but Lennox couldn't be sure. He wasn't even certain how many days they'd been riding. It seemed all a blur. He slept so much after weeks of deprivation that the world seemed unreal. He would dream of a Marauder attack and then awaken frightened. Or of being with Thom, and awaken miserable when he remembered why the dream could never be real. There were times when he dreamed he was simply riding with Thom, and Lennox could not tell where the dream had ended... or if it had ended. His mind was addled with fatigue. He could see a town - no, a city - in the distance. Was this Karelia? They had passed through Cairncross and Soafald. It had to be. When had they gone through Tartallon? No matter. Their journey was almost at an end. Lennox wondered if he should take Thom's offer to help catch the Marauders. It would be dangerous. If they caught him again, and found out he'd helped King Dunstan's knights to find them, Kraid would probably kill him. They would do that whether or not he tagged along with Thom and Madoc. If he accompanied them, he would be easier to find, but he would be safest in their charge. It would be obvious he was aiding them if he went, but the knights might not catch the Marauders if he didn't help. The decision weighed heavily on his mind. Lennox hears something. A soft rustling, like wind through the leaves. The air is still. A chill creeps down Lennox's back. He is lashed arms and body to Thom and cannot move. He looks around. The road seems to be deserted, except for Warrigal and her passengers. Thom doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. Perhaps it's nothing. A flash of black. He turns. A man with a knife grabs at Lennox. He lurches to the side... Warrigal nickered. Thom shifted his weight to keep Lennox upright on the horse. "Are you awake back there?" The man in black was gone. Was never there. The road was deserted. "Ah, yes, but I think I was nodding off there for a moment. I'm sorry." "It's fine, Lennox. Just get whatever rest you need. We'll be there soon." It was true. He could see the city ahead. That couldn't be Karelia already, could it? He knew Soafald was behind them. He checked the sky. They may be another day travelling, but they weren't far from their destination, if Karelia it was. But when he arrived he had a decision to make.... The next day passed like that: Lennox slept occasionally, only to be roused again by some phantasm. It was almost as though he got no sleep at all. In the end, Thom delivered them to Karelia's garrison. This time, Lennox's napping was interrupted when Thom untied them, a most welcome change. Still tired, Lennox had to be supported to make it inside. Thom was directed to one of the back rooms. Lennox hoped that he wouldn't have to find his own way around the building. The place was quite large, and most of the corridors looked the same to him. It took all his concentration to put one foot in front of the other. Thom turned to a door and, shifting Lennox's weight upon his shoulders, knocked twice. It opened almost immediately. Sir Madoc's beaming face was there, and he welcomed Thom inside. Then he saw Lennox. "By the gods, what happened to him?" "You should have seen him when I found him," Thom replied. "He should be okay in a day or so if he can get some proper sleep. He's been getting some on the road, but it's not very deep or for very long. Here, help me get him to a bed." Sir Madoc stood and took Lennox's other side. The room had two beds in it, and the knights led him to the nearer. He collapsed onto it. "How has he been eating?" a strange voice asked. "Everything I've given him the last few days, he's kept down, but - by Braggia!" Lennox sat up at the ex-thief's invocation of their god. "What?" Sir Madoc asked. "His eyes! The last time I saw eyes like that I was staring down a wolf." Lennox relaxed and let the chatter wash over him. Everything was fine. He tried to sleep again. After a few minutes the man with the eyes came over to his bedside. Lennox drowsily opened an eye. The stranger was speaking. "Then I should stay with him. I will keep watch over him." The man tenderly stroked hs forehead, brushing his bangs. A wonderful tingly feeling overcame him, and he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber. It was dark. He could see stars through what seemed to be a window. Alarmed, Lennox sat upright. Suddenly there was noise, as though someone on the other side of the room was getting up. "Who's there?" said Lennox. "Relax. I am Sir Bastian," said a man in a soft baritone. Lennox looked to the voice. He saw... something. Like two points of light. They were grey and had dark points in their centers. Were those his eyes? As he approached Lennox could see them clearly. The man's eyes glowed from within. They came closer as the stranger crouched. "How are you feeling? Rested?" he asked. "Yes. Better than I've felt in weeks." "Good." Lennox could hear Sir Bastian smile as he said it. "Here's water." Lennox reached out for the cup, and caught Sir Bastian's arm. It was bare. He followed it to his hand and took the cup. As he drank, Sir Bastian added, "You must be hungry. I understand you've not eaten all day, and it's nigh on midnight. I ordered your dinner late, but it's mostly cold by now." "I am hungry. If you have food to spare, I'd be grateful for anything." The eyes disappeared and Lennox heard the man walk back across the room. Cloth rustled. Suddenly there was light. Sir Bastian had a dark robe wrapped around his body. He had lit a candle, but he had no flint. He was lighting it with his finger. "You're a wizard?" "A mage." "Oh," Lennox said, as though this explained everything. Sir Bastian carried the candle and a plate of food over to Lennox's bed. The robe hung open. The mage wore nothing underneath. He set the candle down on the bedside table and bunched his robe protectively closed at the front before squatting down again. "As I said, it's cold." The plate had a chicken leg, greens and a half a small loaf of bread. "That's fine. Thank you." Lennox took in his benefactor. He had long, flowing brown hair that disappeared down his back. In the light, the eyes did not seem to glow, but they were exceptionally beautiful. The outside of the grey was a dark ring, which seemed to reach into the center with small tendrils, as though the darkness threatened to take over his eyes. Steadfastly holding the middle was a much paler grey, guarding the pupil. Lennox could have gazed into those eyes for an eternity. He blushed. "Go on, then. Eat," Sir Bastian said, chuckling. Lennox dug in, pleased to find he had the stomach for this meal, meagre though it may be. "Sir Madoc and Thom tell me that you were in Kraid's camp for more than a year," Sir Bastian said. Lennox, his mouth full, merely nodded. "Thom also said that while you came with him here, you still had not decided whether you would join us in catching him." Lennox looked Sir Bastian in the eye and found himself ashamed to admit his fear. "I, ah, I've been hiding from them for a while now, and mayhap I've made them into more than they are in my mind, but I have escaped them before now. They always found me, and they were always brutal. If they were to catch me now, after I helped you...." He would not complete the thought. He gazed down into his platter. "You were alone before. We three will protect you." Sir Bastian laid his hand upon Lennox's. "If you'll not accompany us, I would understand. As a subject of the King, not one of the Guard, you cannot be forced. Let me assure you, though, that you would be safe." Lennox's face seemed to be glowing red. The mage's touch was magic, even without a spell. "I'll, ah, I'll think about it." Sir Bastian nodded and turned away. "I won't disturb you. Please, finish eating. Whether you ride with us or not, you need to build your strength again." He took his hand away and sat cross-legged on his bed. He rearranged his robe around himself and seemed to go to sleep. Lennox polished off the plate of food and watched Sir Bastian. He sat in profile, his hair and robe flowing over his body. His eyes opened. "Are you finished?" Lennox embarrassed at having been caught staring, just nodded. Sir Bastian rolled to his bare feet, set the tray aside and asked, "Are you still tired? Would you like to sleep again?" "I'm not sure I could. I only just woke up...." "I can help with that. But you should undress this time. You'll be more comfortable." Words stuck in Lennox's throat. "Uh...." "Don't worry. I'm a healer. I've seen it all before, but if it would help you, I'll stand over here and turn away." And he did so. Lennox felt profoundly self-conscious taking his clothes off with Sir Bastian there. The mage seemed so completely comfortable with his body. He stripped quickly and settled under the covers. He made sure his insistent hard-on was not visible at all before telling the knight he could turn around. Sir Bastian blew out the candle and stroked Lennox's forehead once again. With a weak, contented moan, he was asleep again.

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