Elf Boy's Friends

Elf-Boy's Friends 6

The Far West Part II of V

by George Gauthier

[The further adventures of characters from the novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends']

Chapter 5. Packing

The night before their departure for the Far West of the continent of Valentia, the 'Young Soldiers Four', as the four youths had dubbed themselves, packed their kit, starting with their clothing.

Drew packed the outfits he would wear during the mission. First came two of his official uniforms as an ensign in the Army of the Commonwealth. They were made of a lightweight green silk and consisted of full length trews and a sleeveless shirt, split halfway up the sides for ventilation and fastened with ties in front which might be loosed to bare chest and abs.

Silk was the fabric of choice for the military since it minimizes damage from arrow wounds. Arrows actually do more harm when drawn out than when they go in. That is partly from the barbs on arrowheads but also from the fabric of one's clothing. The fibers of wool, linen, and cotton will fragment and contaminate wounds, which fester and leads to blood poisoning for those who survive the wound itself and cannot reach a magical Healer in time. Silk retains it structural integrity and also wraps around the barbs of the arrowhead. That allows it to be withdrawn while doing little further damage.

Next came two sets of his expeditionary outfit, the clothes he had worn as a war correspondent during the Second Centaur War: short trews which reached to mid-thigh and a sleeveless shirt slashed all the way at the sides, both made of dark green silk plus a pair of the same hobnailed sandals that the infantry wore. City boy that he was Drew would need them in the rough country they would be exploring. Drew's feet had toughened up from all his running, but he had covered the distance from the capital on modern roads built to be easy on the feet of barefoot bipeds and unshod quadrupeds.

Though he was likely to need them for the mission Drew could hardly forgo his trademark sleeveless tunics of white silk which he wore in his role as a a journalist. Styled for that professional look, they still flattered the trim and taut body he has so recently grown into and was so proud of. He laid two tunics on top of the rest.

Finally Drew folded two silk sarongs, one dark blue, the other burgundy and added them to his kit. The close fitting sheath of the sarong clung to his slender physique, not so much concealing as accentuating the trim lines of the body, especially the rump.

Moreover, the sarong was versatile since it was light in weight, flexible, folded into a tiny packet, felt smooth next to the skin, came in a variety of colors, and had a dozen other uses besides. A sarong can serve as a wrap for the body, a groundsheet, a canopy, a signal flag, a towel, a privacy curtain, an improvised back pack or stretcher, and even as a weapon, used to create a distraction. Whip it off your hips and snap it at your opponent's head. Then move in for the kill while he is distracted or run away, if that is the better move.

The twins packed their color-coded green and blue sarongs and their old riding silks, plus short trews like Drew's. Also the camouflage cloaks they had worn as military scouts. They had also brought military uniforms with the insignia of captains in the army reserve. As the very first humans to benefit from the healing magic of the druids, the twins had voluntarily accepted a commission in the army reserve. In recognition of their wartime service, the army waived the training program Drew had gone through. Counting their years of prior service, the army made them captains. They added note and sketch pads for their mapping work plus a table of logarithms printed on thin high quality paper and bound in leather for protection from the elements.

Finn brought two spare sets of his regular outfit of green silk shirt and trews plus small clothes. The young giant was the only one of the four who bothered with undergarments. Giants also don't like to go barefoot, what with the press of their huge bodies on the comparatively small soles of their feet, so Finn wore padded sandals. He also threw in the pair of brassards whose three pips identified him as a under-sergeant in the militia of New Varangia called the Fyrd. (His over-sergeant was Old Arn.)

In addition to their individual kits, the twins added the climbing equipment procured by Arn: ropes, pitons, hammer, coupling links, gloves, and lightweight pulleys.

Finally came their weaponry. Who knew what foes they might face? No point being caught empty-handed.

The twins were uncannily accurate archers thanks to their magical gift of Unerring Direction plus constant practice. Though only of middling height and slender, they drew a heavy bow, their vitality enhanced by druidical healing magic, which not only kept them perpetually young and healthy, it doubled their strength and stamina and sharpened their senses. Quarterstaffs were also part of their armament, gifts from their mentor, the giant Balandur. Made of ash, the staffs featured steel caps and a flat hook near one end for the strap of their kit bag. Attached to their quivers were scabbards to hold kukris. The bent-bladed knives were so large they were almost short swords.

Finn also carried a kukri in a scabbard on his belt but his main weapons were his twelve foot spear and broadsword. On this mission, he would not bear his usual heavy wooden shield but only a buckler. Made of metal, circular, and only about two foot across, it was small and and light and carried hung from his belt. Not of much use against missiles, it was employed in hand-to-hand combat with either sword or kukri. Unless taken unawares, Drew could protect the party from a shower of arrows, taking control of them in mid-air and Throwing them point first back at any hostile archers. Finn also packed the hammer and tongs from his forge, just in case, he told his friends. They nodded indulgently, understanding the tools as a comforting link to a home and a trade he had left behind

Drew carried a kukri for close-in defense but only for circumstances where he cared not to reveal his powers. In actuality, his magical gift of Fetching was powerful and flexible and deadly. He had employed it to good effect in two pitched battles during the Second Centaur War. In the first he flung oil filled globes at the wedge of centaurs, which his friend Artor, a firecaster, ignited on impact, utterly disrupting their charge.

At the Battle of the Ravine, from just behind the shield wall of the Frost Giants Drew wielded a pair of steel spheres about the size of a peach, flinging them at high speed left and right, up and down, back and forth. Their fearsome momentum blasted right through the bodies and the heads of the carnivorous centaurs.

When not in use the two spheres and a smaller pair of "birdshot" rode in a pouch hung on his belt along with a second pouch, this one holding darts dipped in a soporific drug for putting adversaries to sleep. A single dart could take down a man. Three or four darts might be needed for something as large as aurochs or a slash bear or a Frost Giant, perish the thought. The drug did not work on centaurs because of their alien constitutions.

The three runners left town after all four had loaded the mail coach with their gear waving to the coach driver who was hitching the horses. The teamster was a lithe youth of seventeen who wore only a breechclout, a panel of deerskin passed between the legs and flipped over a thong tied around his hips. Short boots and a straw hat completed his ensemble.

All the coachmen, hostlers, and grooms were human. Frost Giants did not work with horses. They had no use for them. The animals were too small to bear a rider eight or nine feet tall and weighing six or seven hundred pounds. For draft animals, the Giants employed the aurochs, which they had shipped in at considerable expense from the forests of their original homeland.

Finn took breakfast with the driver and his brother Holgar at an eatery conveniently located on the outskirts of town close to the stables, paddocks, and corrals. Finn was in no hurry to leave and dawdled over his kaffay till the young teamster reminded him that he had a schedule to keep. Yes the coach was theirs exclusively this trip, but his firm was under contract to carry the mail. Taking his leave of his brother, Finn climbed into the coach.

"We'll catch up to your friends, soon enough." the driver confidently assured Finn, a grin on his freckled face, then swung his lithe frame up into the driver's seat.

"Don't be so sure, Liam. Horsemen like yourself have no appreciation for how much ground a human can cover during a long distance run. Those three boys are fleet of foot and have lots of stamina. You'll see. They will be waiting for us at the mid-point to the first way station."

"Ha! That is so not happening, sir, not with these four bay mares in the traces." Liam asserted with complete confidence. "It's twenty-five miles to the mid-point, since the stations are a day's travel or fifty miles apart."

"We shall see, and it's Finn, Liam, not sir. There cannot be more than four years between us."

The coach set off at a walk, swung round the town, crossed the bridge over the river, then picked up the pace as it rolled onto the long road west. Like all the main highways built by the Commonwealth the right of way was really two roadways in one, both wide enough for two way traffic. The southerly roadway traffic was paved with flat stones. It served horses shod in iron, both mounts and draft animals. The heavy infantry of the regular army also marched on the pavement in their sturdy hob-nailed sandals.

Travelers who went barefoot or in soft foot gear took the other walkway, its firm but resilient surface was designed for them and for the unshod feet of oxen, aurochs, and camels. The top level of that roadway was a composite made of sawdust and bitumen. compressed and heated, then laid in squares over the same substrate as the stone paved roadway alongside.

Only a narrow shoulder, a drainage channel really but one filled with crushed stone to prevent erosion, separated the two roadways. Traffic kept to the right on both roadways, the universal rule in the Commonwealth.

Finn settled into a comfortably padded bench in the coach and watched the miles pass. Although familiar with the environs of Flensborg he had never seen this part of his new homeland, New Varangia as it was called after his and Old Arn's home district back in the old country.

The original homeland of his folk lay in the northernmost part of the continent of Valentia. Like the other two continents on the planet of Haven, it straddled the equator. From its northern coast a peninsula jutted into temperate latitudes making the original homeland of the Frost Giants cold in winter. The temperature got low enough for ice to form on the still waters of ponds and lakes though not on the moving waters of rivers and stream. Snow was not unknown either, nor was frost. Hence the name of his people.

New Varangia lay well south of the equator -- roughly between the thirtieth and thirty-fourth parallels. Its climate was sub-tropical. The summers were hot but not oppressively so.

Its relatively tolerable climate was the reason the centaurs had lived there. For physiological reasons, the creatures had needed a cooler climate than the tropical climate which prevailed in the Commonwealth proper. The centaurs were carnivores and lived exclusively by the hunt. Their land had been a giant hunting preserve, and the centaurs lived dispersed in camps, shifting location several times a year as its hunters depleted the game in an area. The centaurs had never built a true civilization and had no farms or towns or manufactories, nor any roads other than trails.

Hence the countryside the coach passed through was pristine, save for those marks of civilization introduced by the Frost Giants themselves such as the belt of farms around the town. Their capital of Flensborg was located on a considerable river just below the fall line. The waterfalls provided power for saw mills, grist mills, and hammer mills. The tranquil stream below the falls gave access ultimately to the Great Inland Freshwater Sea. The giants were shipbuilders from way back. In the far north, their stout vessels plied the stormy outer ocean. The shipyards of Flensborg built river boats, ferries, and cargo ships. Flensborg's own ships carried its exports, chiefly timber and iron ore to market.

The road ran generally west but followed the contours of the land detouring through open ground rather than plowing through stands of timber. That had saved its builders the toil of felling trees, pulling stumps, and filling in the holes. The builders had planted trees along the northern edge of the right of way to provide shade, once the trees reached their full growth. They were just saplings at this stage.

Unable to read his copy of the local news-paper as the coach jounced along, Finn thought to talk with the driver. He stood and flipped open the hatch in the roof, holding onto the rails along the roof for balance as he asked the teamster.

"So where are you from, Liam? And why did you settle in New Varangia?"

"I am from the Western Plains. My people are nomads always on the move to fresh pastures. Twice a year we round up yearlings to sell to the army for mounts, and we drive cattle to corrals on the border of the Commonwealth proper and sell them to purchasing agents. With the golds we earn from all that, we buy grain, manufactures, tools, and civilized luxuries. The wild bison provide us with meat, hides, leather. Their sinews and bones are shaped into all sorts of tools and implements."

"Horses are in our blood. My dad put me up on a horse before I could even walk by myself. Some boys work cattle, but I got to take care of our mounts. Mostly they graze, but we also feed them grain when we have it. I'd water them twice a day, check the frogs of their feet, and brush and curry them too."

"The fun part was when a bunch of us boys took the remuda for a bath. We'd ride them right into a pond up to their bellies, then slip off their backs and scrub their hides with soap and brush. Our own bodies too, since we boys rode bare back and bare-ass naked and got their sweat and scent on ourselves."

"All the while we joked and laughed and indulged in all manner of grab ass rambunctiousness, as boys will do. Some of us paired off and found quiet spots in the tall grass or bushes to explore our burgeoning sexuality."

"It was a good life for a youngster, but as I got a little older I wanted something more than to be a herder all my life. Also, I knew I didn't like girls, but among us nomads young males engage in sex with each other only until they marry and settle down. Our way of life works only for family units. It takes the labor and skills of a husband and wife team, and the kids help too to get everything done. That was not for me.

"I knew that in town you can specialize in a line of work then buy what you need from others. Forget about self-sufficiency. Like I do not cook, but I can buy hot meals at take-out counters or eat in restaurants and cafes.

"I heard about opportunities for horsemen in New Varangia. You big folks need humans like me for anything to do with horses. None of you has the skills or the interest in driving a team. Anyway, you're all too heavy. You giants weigh six or seven hundred pounds. That adds five hundred pounds or more of dead weight to the load and subtracts the same from what the team can haul, whether in freight or paying passengers."

"Makes sense."

Chapter 6. The Coach-Boy

The coach continued down the highway, its forward motion creating a pleasant breeze to cool both the young coachman, a coach-boy really, and his huge passenger, whose upper torso poked out of the top of the passenger compartment.

"Would you believe, Liam, that I once walked the length of the Western Plains, from north to south?"

"Of course I believe it, Finn, or should I call you Young Finn? I know all about the Long March of the Frost Giants and the Second Centaur War from your journalist-friend's first book. I read his second book too, the one about the wars against the eastern barbarians. Drew Altair is a good writer and sketch artist. Both books featured his portraits of the main protagonists, such as yourself, the blond twins, and the author too."

"Still think we are going to catch up to the runners, Liam? We've gone quite a distance in the last three hours, and they are nowhere in sight on the road ahead of us. Aren't you tempted to drive your team just a little harder, if only to prove me wrong?"

"Not at all, Finn. No way I am going to run my team into the ground just to prove a point. If your friends really are such strong runners as you say, then so be it. I take care of my teams, and my teams take care of me."

"Well said. You demonstrate a wisdom beyond your years."

"Ha! This from someone only four years older. But thanks anyway for the compliment. We grow up fast on the plains."

"Er, Finn, maybe I am out of line here, but about Drew Altair... I know I met him only briefly yesterday when your party hired the coach and again this morning, but... do you think he noticed me?" the youth blurted out anxiously.

"Oh ho! Fancy him, do you?"

"You better believe it. Drew is so cute, and that sexy little body of his really turns me on. I mean all three of them are impossibly pretty, but the twins have each other, don't they? Is there a chance for a outsider like myself to engage Drew's interest?"

"Well, I could put in a good word for you..."

"Would you really, Finn? I would be ever so grateful."

"Why not? You are a well-set up lad with a fine body, maybe on the slender side but with a strong upper storey. Those wide shoulders and muscled arms are no doubt the result of handling teams of four for a living. Good looks too, a raven-haired beauty I'd have to say. And you have so-called wizards' eyes, one blue and one brown. And our Drew is an easy conquest. The little fellow has a reputation as a social butterfly."

"All right!"

Meanwhile the three runners were far ahead of the coach. Had they been in a hurry, they could have covered the distance to the mid-point in about two hours. Instead they set an easy pace of six minutes to the mile and even slowed down to a walk going uphill, making it easy for conversation.

"Did you guys notice that cute coachman?" Drew asked the twins.

"Coach-man?" Jemsen snorted. "Coach-boy is more like it."

"Actually," Karel began, "what I noticed was the way he stared at you with those wizard's eyes of his, my little auburn-haired beauty."

"His name is Liam." Drew sighed. He's just my type, you know: medium height, slender, and blessed with chiseled features."

"In other words, just like our mutual friend Finn Ragnarson." Karel countered sardonically.

"Hey, can't a guy have more than one type?" Drew asked.

"I sometimes think half the males on Haven are your type." Jensen answered, shaking his head.

"I hardly think that's fair!" Drew retorted.

"Don't worry, Drew. It's in the bag."

"What makes you thinks so, Jemsen?" Drew asked, brightening.

"Because you are definitely this Liam's type."

With this happy thought in mind, Drew picked up the pace. Reaching the crest of a hill, the runners saw a column of riders heading the other way, a patrol of the mounted constabulary. The runners waved, but as neither party was interested in conversation, they simply passed each other by. The mounted constabulary was staffed by humans in the employ of New Varangia. Their outfit had recently taken over responsibility for security on the highways. The cavalry battalion long stationed in Flensborg was moving out soon, heading west as reinforcements.

A little while later the riders encountered the coach. The patrol leader signaled his men to rein in.

"Is that you Finn Ragnarson poking his head out the top of that stagecoach?"

"You know it is, Sergeant Drumm."

"Well met then, though I never expected to see you this far west."

"Yet here I am."

"Have you seen a party of three runners on the road." Liam interrupted. "You would remember them, two blonds and one redhead, all of them prettier than a girl and stark naked."

"If you are asking about a certain trio of shameless showoffs, the answer is yes. They blew past us a while ago, not far short of the post marking the mid point to the way station. Must be there by now."

"Ahem!" Finn cleared his throat theatrically, then smiled and placed a hand to Liam's shoulder consolingly. The patrol leader nodded then pumped his fist to signal his men to ride on.

In the fullness of time the coach pulled up to the black and white striped post marking the halting place, walking the horses the last little distance to let them cool down. Finn waved to his friends who waved back and greeted the young teamster too.

The midpoint was hard by a hamlet of farmers, all Frost Giants, for only they could take title to farmland in their new homeland. One of the farmers was waiting their arrival with a shovel and pail to scoop up the droppings from the horses, valuable as manure for their kitchen gardens. Liam parked his rig under some shade trees, then jumped down and watered his horses at a stream-fed trough. He set a small sack of incoming mail in the drop box, drawing a nod from the local. Outgoing mail got picked up by a coach going east, toward the capital, for sorting, distribution, and eventual delivery.

When the coach pulled out again with all four passengers aboard, Finn suggested that Drew ride on top, sitting next to Liam in the driver's box. The view would be better than from inside the coach and Drew and Liam could get better acquainted. Both boys grinned at the idea.

"Matchmaking are we?" Jemsen asked the young giant in a low voice.

"Just being accommodating, that's all." Finn replied blandly.

"Uh huh. From here on out though, butt out. Don't stick your head out the hatch and join the conversation. And don't listen in."

"I wouldn't think of it."

Drew propped his feet on the front boot and leaned back, stretching out to let the breeze generated by their forward motion blow across and cool every part of his body. His posture tempted the coach boy with an unimpeded view of Drew's sexy little body. Liam stared at the vision of youthful male pulchritude so close to hand. Taking Drew's posture for an invitation, he reached out with his free hand to stroke Drew's chest and abs and squeeze his firm thighs."

"Don't you need both hands to drive the coach, Liam?" Drew asked innocently.

"The reins are rigged to allow four-in-hand driving by a single driver instead of the old fashioned way with two drivers for four horses. I hold the reins to all four horses in my left hand, leaving the right one free for the whip or for the brake."

"Or to stroke a naked boy who happens to be sitting next to you, eh?"

Liam wanted to go further in feeling Drew up, but thought better of it. Though he could drive with one hand, he really needed to keep both eyes on his team and the road ahead. Still, he didn't need his hands or eyes to talk, so he chatted up the auburn-haired beauty stretched out so temptingly next to him.

With nothing to distract him Drew focussed his attention on the strong young body on his left, taking pleasure in the play of the muscles of the slender coach boy with the wide shoulders as he handled his team. Liam's entire musculature was bared to sight since the coach boy was next thing naked. Only the fork of his legs and the cleavage of his rump were covered by a loincloth that amounted to no more than a narrow panel of buckskin. The same hue as his sun-bronzed skin, it passed between his legs and was flipped over a leather thong tied low around his narrow hips. Viewed from the side, Liam might as well be naked.

The only discordant note in his attire were the leather boots Liam had to wear, for obvious reasons, when dealing with animals. Still in his perch on the driver's box he had no need for them and kicked them off, letting them drop into the front boot while he set his feet on the foot rest and flexed and aired his toes.

That suited Drew just fine. Bare feet were a real turn-on for the auburn-haired youth. Most guys might not realize it, but the toes form an erogenous zone all their own. Licking, nibbling, and sucking on the toes in foreplay stimulates the libido and produces a flush of lust in the loins. Drew had learned that trick from the twins who picked it up during their rent boy days long ago. Now it was Drew's turn to kneel before a lover, sucking on a big toe like a cock, letting the male he served loom over him, gazing down at the boy crouched submissively before him, a posture that emphasized his pert rump thrust out behind him suggestively. He couldn't wait to try it on Liam.

Drew and Liam got on famously. The coach boy praised the author's books while Drew in turn complimented his new friend's handling of the team. Drew allowed that, as a city boy, he himself was only adequate as a rider and could not drive a team at all whereas Liam controlled four horses with only one hand on the reins.

"I see. So what is your magical gift, Liam? You already know mine."

"Unfortunately I don't have one, not yet anyway, and here I am going on eighteen."

"That's too bad. Those wizards' eyes of yours give promise of a powerful gift, whatever it turns out to be. What can I say except to be patient? There is a very good reason our gifts don't manifest till our mid-teens at the earliest. Just imagine a temper tantrum in a two year old who was already a Fetcher."

"Good point. Little boys like to play with fire, but if an eight-year old were already a firecaster, then whoosh, the whole house goes up in flames."

"Anyway what's with all the weapons you guys have packed in the boot? And don't you feel a little insecure with all your weapons stored aboard the coach? What could you do if you ran into trouble on the road with all of you caught empty handed?"

"No problem. Here east of the border, with settlements at intervals along this main road patrolled by the mounted constabulary, we are safe enough. That's why you don't need a second man riding guard. Anyway, with all due modesty, I daresay I could handle almost any threat even without my spheres or darts or anything else."

Drew explained his eyeball technique.

Liam grimaced at Drew's graphic description of his tactic of choice. If suddenly confronted by a slash bear or dire wolf, he would yank its eyes out. He would do the same to a centaur, not that any of those six-limbed horrors were left alive in those parts.

"I saw the twins kill the very last one here in their homeland. My friends and I destroyed the last infestation up north of the Eastern Plains."

"OK, you can stop fierce creatures. What if a gang of bandits charged your party?"

"I'd Lift the lead rider out of the saddle then flail away, using him as a club to knock the rest of the gang off their horses. I might not kill anyone that way, but I'd break bones. Or, for truly lethal effect, I'd take control of one of their blades, slide it our of its scabbard, and wield it with my gift to lop their heads off."

"Wicked!"

"OK, let's say you run into an ambush. Archers loose a flight of arrows at you!" Liam challenged.

"I'd catch them in mid-flight, flip them around, and send them right back to where they came from. Kind of like undelivered mail stamped 'Return to Sender'." Drew replied confidently.

That set the coach boy to chuckling.

Actually it had taken practice for Drew to achieve control of more than an arrow at a time. In the beginning Drew had had the twins fire blunted arrows at him. For this exercise they used repeating crossbows. With rapid fire the twins could put four arrows into the air at once.

In these practice sessions, Drew's only real protection was a helmet with visor. The thin silk fabric of his expeditionary outfit protected his skin from abrasion but not his flesh from impact. The twins had been careful not to target his dangly bits. The shots that got through Drew's defense hurt and left bruises but gave the young Fetcher all the incentive he needed to sharpen his skills.

For the benefit of Fetchers throughout the Commonwealth, Drew had described his training technique in an article of his newsletter, 'Transactions of the Confraternities of the Gifted', which went out by mail to subscribers in all corners of that vast land.

One of his readers turned out to be the War Wizard Sir Willet who wrote back that Drew's technique was fine when arrows came at you one or a few at a time, but what if the enemy launched a volley of arrows at you or you got ambushed and the shafts came at you from several directions at once? He offered to share the technique by which he and his fellow war wizards coped with an arrow storm -- in as much as he considered Drew a colleague in his capacity as a reserve ensign in the army of the Commonwealth.

Through mental discipline and visualization techniques, war wizards had honed their awareness of the mental field by which a Fetcher was always cognizant of the position of an object under his control, regardless of whether he could see it. The technique created an omnidirectional mental sphere of awareness, which could be held for several hours at a time if necessary. The wizards called their technique a Missile Shield, though the shield itself did nothing to stop arrows, quarrels, or slung stones. That took conscious use of the Fetching gift to deflect incoming missiles.

"Fortunately, I haven't had to kill anyone yet with my powers, except for a whole lot of centaurs, but those were monsters not people. As a reserve ensign I've been tasked with rescuing folks stranded by a flood or freeing people trapped under debris from an earthquake, missions where I work with the mounted constabulary and fire brigades rather than with the combat forces of the army. Fetching can be turned to constructive ends."

"I don't mind the interruptions when the Army activates my reserve commission. I would want to help in such situations anyway, if I knew about them and could get to the scene on time. The postal and army heliograph ensure that I know where I am needed. And the Army pays the freight getting there. If official transport is not available, I can take passage on a riverboat, buy a ticket on a stagecoach, or rent a horse using stamped chits which I sign over to providers who can cash them at any bank."

"It's easier now that there are a hundred of us reservists all around the Commonwealth. The druids have enhanced two additional cohorts like they did mine. The three druids who developed the technique are back from their assignment to the eastern continent. The corps of druids there was all but wiped out by a rogue wave, a wall of water created by a landslide. Dahl, Owain, and Merry recruited local talent and trained them. Brought them along till all seven were at least journeymen level druids."

"So if all three senior druids are back on Valentia whom did they leave in charge over there?"

"Another senior druid named Bjorn who, I understand, is a really big guy thanks to Frost Giant blood. This Bjorn is a shapeshifter who can turn himself into a brown bear. He was one of the apprentices in Dahlderon's own cohort of trainees, so many years ago now, back when I was a just a kid."

"As long ago as that, eh?"

"All right, but the years from twelve to twenty-two are years of great change in our lives and our bodies, which makes them seem longer than any other decade is likely to be."

"Thank you for sharing that, oh wise one!"

That drew a snort from the young journalist.

Chapter 7. Way Station

Upon arrival at the way station, Liam handed a mail sack over to the proprietor who doubled as the local postmaster, took care of his animals, then joined the travelers for a bath. It was only natural for the twins to pair off, soaping each other up and rinsing off before soaking their tired bodies in a tub of water heated by the sun.

Drew and Liam's pairing off was more about foreplay than hygiene as their hands roamed over each other's bodies. The two youngsters looked so cute together, joking, laughing, splashing, touching, and generally carrying on. Finn found himself to be the odd man out but took it philosophically. Anyway he got an eyeful watching Drew and Liam's byplay.

Later the travelers sat down to a hearty supper prepared by a giantess who was not only the cook but also the wife of the proprietor of the establishment. The platter she set in the center of their table held a mess of lamb chops and breaded fish filets, accompanied by bowls of steaming potatoes, vegetables, and a tangy salad. Just the kind of stick-to-the-ribs food the runners needed after their exertions. The young teamster was famished too. Driving a team is hard work, even if it is done sitting down. Finn did not need an excuse for a big appetite, Frost Giant that he was.

In observance of the customs that prevailed in the Far West and to a lesser extent among the Frost Giants, the three runners dressed for dinner, sarongs for the twins and his expeditionary outfit for Drew though he went barefoot like the others save Finn. The young teamster wore his breechclout but left his boots on the porch before entering.

In the Far West public nudity was fine for sports and exercise and rather expected for peasants engaged in sweaty labor in the fields. Otherwise, especially in town, young males usually wore something, if only to cover their manly parts. Although Frost Giants were not prudish -- mixed nudity was customary in the sauna -- by custom they usually wore shirt and trews, no doubt a concession to the cold weather that prevailed in winter back in their original homeland.

"Nice modest boys." the cook assured her husband with an approving nod. "Not like those youngsters back in the Commonwealth. Always running around without a stitch on, usually for no good reason either. I can understand it for sports and exercise, like our three guest today running the road from Flensborg. But in a place of public refreshment, or when visiting a lending library, or sitting on a park bench -- well, put some clothes on already."

They all heard that. Feeling the mischief come upon him, Karel spoke up.

"Can't say we feel that way, madam. My brother and I were inducted into a clan of elves as elf-friends and adopted their ways. As you probably know elves run around stark naked just about all the time. Once babies get past swaddling clothes, young male elves virtually never wear clothes, not for almost a century and not very often after that."

"No doubt as a perpetual courtship display, knowing the elves and their promiscuous ways." the cook countered.

"Not the way they see it. For elves, nudity is simply practical: the climate is hot and anyway doing laundry is so tedious, isn't it? Besides, you Frost Giants don't expect customers to sit at the table with cloths over their mouths, do you?"

"Of course not. How could they eat or drink?"

"Exactly! The elves think that if it makes no sense to block the mouth at the upper end of the alimentary canal, then it makes no sense blocking the orifices at the nether end either, those by which we void bodily wastes."

"Harrumph!"

The cook bristled, turned, and stalked back to her kitchen. Her husband smiled at her discomfiture.

"Don't get me wrong, my Helga is a treasure, but she has strong views, which I indulge for the sake of marital harmony. Which is why it is so gratifying to see her rendered speechless if only for a few blessed moments."

They brought a chuckle all around.

After their hearty meal, the travelers rose from the table and headed to their rooms for a well-earned rest. The young teamster took Drew's hand and lead him to the room reserved for visiting coachmen. That night, they had it all to themselves.

They made good use of it.

In the morning, sometime after the runners had set out, Liam hitched a new team to his coach. The mares from the day before were to be set to pasture for a day, resting and gathering their strength for the return run to the capital, hauling the next eastbound coach and driver. Liam's schedule had him driving westward for seven days all the way to the border then seven days back, with two days off till the next round trip.

Fully refreshed after a good night's sleep thanks to their magically enhanced vitality, the youths set out on another run of twenty-five miles.

"So how was he last night?" Karel asked Drew.

The young red-head grinned. "I had a good time last night. That much I can assure you."

"I can see the evidence myself, like those hickeys. And is that a bite mark on your shoulder?"

"Yes, it is."

Drew shrugged.

"Liam is a real tiger in bed. He got a bit too excited that second time, with me braced on all fours, him covering me like a stallion does a filly, thrusting away at my quim. He bit down when he came."

"Oh ho! The second time you say. What happened before that?"

"Well, if you must know, Karel, Liam put me on my back and propped my legs on those wide shoulders of his. He is really strong in his upper storey, as you would expect a teamster to be, though I later showed him how strong my legs were when I wrapped them around his waist and squeezed as he plunged in and out of my hole. Good thing I heal fast, or my bottom would be sore this morning."

"I can believe it. Yesterday in the bath I saw that he was fairly well-endowed. A horse cock you might say. Just the thing to appeal to an inveterate bottom boy like you, Drew."

"Hey! I can top too. In fact, I did so last night... sort of anyway."

"Sort of?"

"Well, with Liam stretched out on his back, I straddled his hips and rode his cock for all I was worth."

Karel nodded to indicate that he understood. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, opined:

"Like posting a trotting horse. How fitting!"

"Oh, very funny."

"So how would you rate Liam in the amatory arts?"

"No different from most guys his age. At seventeen, a young male's lovemaking owes more to enthusiasm than to technique. I'll give him a few pointers over the next six days."

"There's a lot more to making love than most guys think." Karel said. "Dahl told us that when Owain taught him about male love, he started with anatomy lessons. Later he explained how foreplay, sweet talk, intimate touching, and novel positions can enhance an encounter well beyond simple animalistic rut."

"Too bad there isn't a book about it."

"Since there isn't, why don't you write one, Drew?" Karel asked in jest.

"Maybe I will."

"You should illustrate it too." Karel added for good measure.

"Good idea, and thanks guys both for the suggestion and for volunteering to model for me."

"What? Us? Volunteers? Hardly. You should just hire rent boys for the job."

"Where could I find rent boys as good looking and sexy as you two are? No, my friends, it's a matter of simple commercial logic." Drew countered. "You twins have a whole lot of fans."

"Remember those illustrations of you I did for my two books? They depicted you twins in action during the fight with the slash bear during the Long March and picking off centaurs at the Battle of the Ravine and several other scenes. For the sake of authenticity you modeled for me in the nude, which is not only your usual state of dress but also your normal battledress uniform. In the profiles section, I wrote a short biography of the major figures in the narrative, including all of us, and depicted each in a pair of portraits, one head-and-shoulders and the other full-length."

"Well, when word got around that the books displayed the famous blond twins Sirs Jemsen and Karel in all their glory, my Uncle Poul had to schedule an extra print run to keep up with the demand. Later, Uncle Poul got the idea to repackage the illustrations as a portfolio, one picture per sheet, and printed with newly-engraved woodblocks in a size suitable for framing."

"You guys made us a fortune. It was why we made that donation in your names to the library fund of the Guild of Cartographers. I told you that when I presented you with complimentary copies of the portfolio. When I thanked you once again for modeling for me you told me then 'No problem. Any time.' Well, I am taking you up on that offer."

The twins looked at each other, pained expressions on their faces.

"Me and my big mouth!" Karel lamented.

"... have done it again!" Jemsen finished for his brother.

Drew managed to hold a straight face for a few more seconds then burst out laughing.

"Boy oh boy! I really had you going there, didn't I? Ha Ha Ha."

Chagrined at being so easily gulled in the first place, Jemsen had to make sure.

"No plans then for a sex manual? No pictures of young guys shagging?"

"No. Not by my hand anyway. That's simple commercial logic too. Someone like me, with a reputation as a writer of edifying historical works, simply does not lend his name to such graphic stuff. No, for a sex manual, the author should be a druid or an elf, perhaps your old friend Dahlderon. To turn it into a runaway best-seller it should came out under a lurid title like 'Sex Magic of the Druids' or 'Sex Secrets of the Elves'. You want a title that grabs the reader."

The twins looked askance at their friend, suspecting he was still making fun of them. Jemsen changed the subject to something safer -- the weather.

At the mid-point the runners boarded the coach for the rest of the trip. Drew rode up top with Liam till Karel asked to switch places for a while, so he could take in the view and also chat with their driver. Later Jemsen took a turn, then Drew rejoined Liam for the last stretch.

After supper the next evening, Drew resumed Liam's training in the amatory arts. In Liam, had Drew an apt pupil, one willing to learn both roles. Drew explained about the male joy spot, the prostate gland located just inside the body next to the rectum which could be stimulated by a lover's fingers or by his cock. Drew demonstrated both techniques, finally giving him the opportunity to fully top his new lover. Bottom boy by preference though he was, Drew had the same urge as any male to penetrate a warm wet hole and to thrust and ejaculate.

He was pretty good at too, thanks to his teachers, the close friends and sometime lovers to the twins, the trio of druids and lovers: Dahlderon, Merry, and Owain. It was they whose conjoined healing powers had enhanced Drew's vitality, granting him lasting youth, greater strength and stamina, sharpened senses, and a stronger sex drive, not that Drew really needed it. His mantra had once been 'So many boys. So little time'. Drew had plenty of time now, but he didn't see any reason to waste the opportunities that came along. Certainly not an opportunity as cute and sexy as the young teamster.

The smooth road built by the Commonwealth ended at the border. Travel would be slower from that point on. The local roads in the Far West ranged from bad to execrable. Nor were they entirely safe. Travelers faced potential danger from highwaymen, rebellious peasants, and unruly mercenary troops.

All four travelers would don trews and shirts for the rest of the journey. Weapons too. The twins would have their bows and quivers with them, ready to pop out of the top hatch and loose arrows at attackers. Likewise Drew would be in his expeditionary outfit, pouches of steel spheres and soporific darts ready to hand on his belt. Finn would be armed with sword and hammer and kukri for close fighting.

Drew and Liam made the most of their last night together. It helped that the young red-head did not have to get up early the next morning. Drew even got to top twice that night.

The first time was with their bodies aligned head to toe for mutual oral worship of each other's rampant cock's. It helped that they were not too different in height; The teamster stood only a hand's-breadth taller than the young journalist. Liam lay on his back, knees bent, his head propped on a pillow the better to reach Drew's dangly bits dangling just above his face. Drew was above him, on hands and knees, his head hung low to reach the fork of Liam's legs.

Drew's oral ministrations stimulated Liam's cock to a full erection. It stood tall and proud, engorged, empurpled, and throbbing. Drew's sucked all of it into the wet warmth of his mouth, pressing the shaft with his lips from root to crown and back again. He tongued the ridge of the glans and poked the tip of his tongue into the tiny slit on top. Liam's eruption filled Drew's mouth with his lover's milky gism. A moment later, Drew returned the favor.

Drew also took Liam from behind, with their bodies spooned together, in excellent position to stimulate the young teamster's joy spot with his cock. Even after both came, they lay locked together in post-coital lassitude till they were ready for the next round. Drew was gratified with his own performance. Sure he was a bottom boy, but he could top too. So there.

In the half-light of dawn, as they were getting dressed, Drew abruptly called out:

"Whoa! Liam!"

"What is it?"

"See for yourself. Look in the mirror."

In his image in the mirror above the wash basin the young teamster's eyes were shining with a glow from within, not just a reflection like the eyes of a cat.

"That silver gleam is what wizards call their 'moon-glow', a sign that you are coming into your powers. No telling yet what type of wizard you will become. Wizards are masters of the four elements: earth, air, water, or fire. Fire wizards are commonly called firecasters, but it that is just a matter of custom."

"War wizards are generalists. These include any or all of those four gifts plus fetching, throwing lightning bolts, magnetism, calling light, and others. A few have mind-speech. Very few have any real ability to Heal."

"So what do I do now?"

"You need to consult an expert. It so happens I know one of the war wizards in the capital named Sir Willet. He has sort of taken me under his wing as a protege. I'll write you a letter of introduction. He can help you discover and develop your gift, maybe take you on as his apprentice. You, my friend, are about to embark on a new and rewarding career in the magical arts, whether as a war wizard, a weather wizard, or a water wizard. Maybe something else entirely. Whichever develops, your fortune is made. Congratulations!"

"Hoorah!"

"As a war wizard you would benefit from druidical healing magic that would enhance your vitality and keep you young for five centuries or more. Let's hope so."

"Indeed!"

Liam's face brightened with a further thought.

"You know, Drew. As a powerful magic wielder in my own right, war wizard or not, I might someday join you and your friends on your adventures."

"I'd really like that. Let's go tell the others the good news."

Chapter 8. Across the Border

The twins and Finn were happy for the young soon-to-be ex-teamster whom they had found to be intelligent and personable. The next day, Liam would take his coach eastward on his final run carrying the passengers waiting for him at the way station. He would quit his job once he reached Flensborg and travel to the capital.

Since Liam would need a place to stay, the twins wrote a letter of authorization for him to use their suite of rooms in their residential hotel. He would occupy the guest room and eat his meals at the hotel. It was all part of the service, including housekeeping and laundry.

Finn asked about money, but Liam was fine on that score. Except for what he was sending home to his family, he had been saving most of his wages. His work schedule did not allow much leisure time, and in a town like Flensborg, with a population of mostly Frost Giants, the amusements that might appeal to a young human male were limited.

"When you are in the capital you must visit Twinkle Town." Karel urged him. "It's fabulous!"

Jemsen elaborated:

"Twinkle Town takes its name from the cute twinks who are its primary denizens. Twinkle Town is a district or rather a cluster of drinking and dancing establishments favored by those who fancy pretty boys and by pretty boys who favor being fancied. You'll fit right in."

"You bet I will!"

The border of New Varangia was also the outer border of the Commonwealth of the Long River. Close by the way station and its outbuildings stood a small military post with stables and barracks that served the mounted constabulary and a handful of border guards who manned the post on rotation from Flensborg.

As yet no commerce was carried across the Commonwealth's new roads across New Varangia. The inhabitants of the flatlands beyond had never traded with the centaurs, nor had those creatures had any concept of transit rights. Nevertheless the border post was a tangible and visible affirmation of where the border lay, which would otherwise be a mere territorial claim or a line drawn on a map.

The next stage bound for the west would not leave for a couple of days, giving the travelers a break and a chance to rest. The twins hiked a way north of the road to a scenic pond in the middle of the woods that they had been told about. It was just the two of them, a chance for them to be with each other.

After a swim the twins laid down on the short grass on the verge of the pond. Overhanging boughs provided enough shade to soften the heat of the sun, though not enough to stop their sweating. Propped up on an elbow, Jemsen chatted desultorily with his brother till he realized that Karel had dozed off, making for a one-sided conversation. Jemsen didn't feel like a nap himself, so he settled for watching the ever changing shapes of the puffy white clouds above, all the while studying the beautiful body lying next to him.

The twin of his own, Karel's was the ideal human shape: slender, tanned, toned, and taut -- all sculpted musculature: strong shoulders, well defined abdominal muscles, and narrow hips. No hair interrupted the flow of its faultless lines. The wounds they had taken in the wars had healed completely, leaving no scars.

Jemsen was gratified that Karel's genitals (like his own) didn't have that shriveled look so many guys had. His cock was smooth not all gnarly with twisting veins. His genitals were reasonably sized though he wouldn't be scaring the horses. It took both of his hands to cover an erection, but only one when it was soft. That was just fine for a pair of youths given to running across the countryside bare ass naked with their dangly bits jouncing about.

Jemsen watched droplets of sweat form on Karel's smooth tanned skin, each drop glistening in the sunlight like a tiny diamond. Growing larger, the droplets broke the surface tension that had held them in place and slid downhill, merging and collecting in rivulets in the channel between the pectorals and at the bottom of the hollow between the rib cage and hips.

The first-born twin reached out to play with the sweat pooling in his brother's navel, tracing a circle with his index finger on that flat belly, finally bringing a taste of the salty fluid to his tongue. Next he pressed a spot on one side of Karel's belly to let the pool of sweat drain down his hip, only to watch the hollow slowly fill up again. This time he did not spill any of the salty fluid but lapped it up from his brother cum lover's navel then kissed away beads of sweat on forehead, cheeks, and the tip of the nose, ending with a light kiss to each of Karel's nipples.

Karel stirred a bit but dozed on oblivious of his brother's homage to his sex appeal, his comely face relaxed in sleep, like a slumbering angel, dreaming perhaps of love, his eyes twitching behind close lids. No one knew better than Jemsen what mischief could dance in those grey-blue eyes of his.

Is there anything more beautiful than a teenage boy in the bloom of youth? For that was what the twins were in all but strict chronology thanks to the druids and their life magic. Jemsen sighed, content with life and happy to just be with his beloved brother. In truth, all their lives they had never been any real distance apart, spending virtually every moment within earshot of each other. And he wouldn't want it any other way.

The next morning, it was with good feelings that the adventurers took the leave of their new friend and crowded aboard quite a different kind of coach from his, one clearly not built for Frost Giants. Rather than hunch over, Finn flipped open the top hatch and rode with his head outside the cab facing backwards so he wouldn't be hit in the face by the wind.

The twins wore sarongs, as always green for Jemsen and blue for Karel. Drew wore just the short trews from his expeditionary outfit. All three went unshod. No need for footgear riding in a coach. Finn was the only one fully dressed in shirt, trews, and sandals. They were the only passengers.

From atop the escarpment that marked the border with the flat lands below the passengers could see far across the flat lands of the Far West. Rivers and streams meandered across green plains dotted with small villages but no true towns. The coach negotiated the switchbacks down the slope then picked up speed and rumbled west.

"Why is this thing lurching back and forth so much?" Drew complained, finding it hard to read a copy of a local single page news-sheet which an eastbound passenger had left behind on his seat.

"We are traveling on a badly rutted dirt road." Finn explained.

"No wonder there's so much dust." Jemsen said.

The coach stopped twice to water the horses. Its passengers took advantage of the second halt to stretch their legs and to eat the box lunches packed for them at the last road house in the Commonwealth. The coach rolled up to the road house very late, just before sunset, its four passengers very hungry indeed.

The meal started with a spicy bean curd soup, a dish new to all of them.

"What's this?" asked Finn, holding up a small red pepper.

"I think the cook just puts them in for flavor." Karel said. "You're probably not supposed to eat them."

"Really?" Finn said, chewing experimentally. A moment later the young giant went red in the face, roared, staggered to his feet, and spit out the pepper.

"Arrh! Ptoui! Cough! Cough!"

"What is it Finn?" Jemsen asked.

The proprietor, having seen it happen before, came over and handed Finn a mug and an empty bowl.

"Wash out your mouth with this but spit it into the bowl, don't swallow."

"What is it?" Finn gasped.

"Goat's milk."

The milk put out the worst of the fire but still left Finn with a foul taste in his mouth and bad breath.

Finn's culinary misadventure put the others on their guard. Fortunately, while the main course was also spicy, it was not intolerably hot. Karel had been right. You were not supposed to chew the red peppers. They were too fiery even for the locals.

Adding to his woes, Finn's bad breath meant he went to bed alone that night.

Seizing the opportunity the twins welcomed the young journalist to their bed for an evening of fun and frolic.

Drew threw himself into the proceedings enthusiastically. Hard slender bodies like the twins' (and Liam's) really turned him on. Drew loved the press of the firm flesh and sculpted musculature of the bodies of young males, their skins all slick with sweat and tasting of salt. They offered a feast to the senses: the taste of salt for the tongue, the heat of the body for the skin, the odor of male musk for the nose, not to mention the natural smell of a clean healthy boy.

Now the twins were sexually versatile and readily traded roles not only with each other but also with Drew. The exception was when they double-teamed the cute red-head. Drew always wound up as the one in the middle, plugged at both ends, his body shoved back and forth by the thrust of their hips as the blond boys ravaged his holes.

That evening Drew proposed that one of the twins take the middle position so Drew could top in a three-way and plunge his shaft into the twin in the middle while kissing the other one. Jemsen and Karel said fine but save it for next time. It had been a week since they had last taken Drew to bed, and they wanted him bad -- and in the middle.

"No problem, Drew. You'll have it your way tomorrow. Today you are in the middle like always. Consider it an order, if you like, from your superior officers. Remember, we are both captains while you are a lowly ensign."

"If I like? Well I don't like! Not at all. This is so unfair! You two pulling rank on me."

Nevertheless, the cute red-head's flash of rebellion subsided as the twins disarmed his pique by arousing his lusts: kissing him, touching him in sensitive places, tweaking his nipples, stroking and petting. A flash of heat suffused his body as it remembered how much it enjoyed being double-teamed by the twins.

Jemsen put his hands on Drew's shoulders and pressed down. Complaisant once again, yielding to the blonds' wishes, Drew sank to his knees. Drew opened his mouth to affirm that he fully expected the twins to reciprocate the next day. Before he could get a word out, Jemsen shushed him by slipping his cock between Drew's lips and resting the head atop Drew's tongue. Effectively silenced, Drew surrendered his body to the ministrations of his friends and lovers.

Anyway who could even think, much less talk, with a throbbing cock in his mouth at one end while inquisitive fingers explored his quim at the other, reaching into it and stroking his joy spot. Another hand reached from behind to stroke Drew's rigid and engorged cock. His body shuddered with lust just short of ejaculation. But the twins liked to tease the little red-head when they had him under their control, to bring him just to the brink, then ease off, frustrating him momentarily, but setting him up for that overwhelming surge of lust that finally took him over the top.

The next evening, the twins did take turns being in the middle.

The third night, his breath finally clean and sweet smelling, Finn asserted his claim to the little guy. He had quite different techniques. You had to be careful making love when the top was a giant nearly two foot taller and four times the mass of the tiny human male on the bottom, though if Finn ever did roll on top of Drew, the red-head could use his gift to Lift the giant off him.

Finn made love to Drew by simply picking him up bodily, carrying his weight in his strong arms, with the boy's ankles resting on his shoulders or locked around his waist and settling him onto his shaft, impaling him totally. That posture, face to face, gave the giant access to Drew's hungry hole and allowed them to kiss him too. It was one of Drew's favorite ways to make love, impaled on the huge cock of a Frost Giant, his body totally under the control of the dominant male. For a natural submissive like Drew, it was heaven.

Alternately, Finn lay on his back while little Drew rode his rampant cock, posting his steed, as it were, until he came explosively, shooting his gism over Finn's chest and belly.

They liked to cuddle afterwards, bodies pressed together, Drew head pillowed on Finn's shoulder, the rest of him tucked protectively against his huge lover's flank.

As always the twins had each other. Jemsen and Karel were a perfect match, each the other's type: slender, athletic, blond, and impossibly comely. It didn't hurt that the druidical magic that enhanced their vitality and perpetuated their youth also bumped up their sex drive, not that these kids really needed it. Their mutual dimensions were perfect too, with none of the physical mismatch as between huge Finn and tiny Drew. Brothers, lovers, comrades-in-arms, and each other's best friend, the twins were a life-bonded pair and each other's soul mates. They were best friends with Finn and Drew, enjoyed sex with them, and respected their courage and intelligence, but their own bond went beyond that.

Now they were embarked on a journey, a mission really to unknown lands. Together with their good friends the young Frost Giant and the journalist cum Fetcher they would journey to the Far West and discover what adventures awaited them there.

Author's Note

This story is entirely fictional, with no resemblance intended to any person living or dead.

If you have enjoyed this story and others like it, consider making a donation to the Nifty Archive. It is so easy. They take credit cards. Point your browser to http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

This story is part of an occasional series about the further adventures of the characters introduced in the fantasy novel 'Elf-Boy and Friends' and published by Nifty Archive. The chief protagonist of the novel, Dahlderon, elf-boy and druid, will appear in these stories in a supporting rather than starring role. Each story in the sequence stands on its own, with the focus on one or just a few of the original characters.

Readers who like these stories might want to try my two series 'Daphne Boy' and 'Naked Prey' in the Gay/Historical section of the Archive. My 'Jungle Boy' series of Hollywood tales is posted in the Gay/Authoritarian section. The recent series 'Andrew Jackson High' relates the trials and tribulations of five of its gay students. For links to these and other stories, look on the list of Prolific Authors on the Archive.

Comments and feedback welcome.