The Exile

THE EXILE A Gay Fantasy Experiment

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Even in my dreams I could smell the smoke and ashes from the temple, the aroma infiltrating my sleep like a thief and tinting everything with a shade of loss and sorrow. There were an endless string of images, all incomprehensible and meaningless. A few times, I think, I awoke and was aware of people around me, but these brief moments of consciousness themselves faded back into the endless dream. In this world of sleep, I was visited often by familiar faces: pleasant ones like Pasha and Stepan, strange ones like Errold and his dead companion Bert, and terrifying ones like the Archbishop and Queen Valessa. I even had a vision of my father with my mother (her face a blur since I never knew it) smiling at his side. Last came Alek, who spoke so sincerely of his love for me and me alone that I at once realized I was dreaming. After that, it was easy to wake.

I lay naked under a thick blanket in a room lit only by sunlight creeping through cracks in the wall and around a door. I was drenched in a cold sweat that was slowly drying, and I felt very thirsty. I remember thinking there was something familiar about the room itself, and then realizing with no small surprise that it was my own. I was sleeping in the very bed that had been mine since I was a child. I was pondering this, trying to gather the strength to rise, when Damon came. He looked weak but triumphant, smiling with an arrogance that turned my stomach. He did not say a word, but pulled back my blanket and revealed my naked body.

He took what he wanted, and I no longer had power to tell him no. My body reacted against my will. I entered him. I fed him. I had no choice; he was my master, and I his servant. I poured myself into him in a continuous flow of energy and then, suddenly, the flow reversed and I felt him rushing into me, filling every corner of my body.

I gasped and suddenly awoke again. The room was dark and silent as before, and there was no sign of Damon at all. My heart was thundering, and I was trying to determine if it had only been a dream when the door crept open and gradually illuminated my surroundings. A slim figure tiptoed into the room, carrying a small bowl with a washcloth which I could see clearly as he settled himself on a stool next to my bed. He gently dipped the cloth in the bowl and then wrung it out, and I heard the soft sound of splashing water. Then the figure began to gentle wipe the cool, moist cloth across my brow.

This was welcome and soothing, seeming to wipe away the oppressive heat of my dream of Damon. "Thank you," I murmured.

The figure jumped and nearly dropped the bowl of water clumsily. "You're awake!" Pasha sputtered, placing a hand on my chest as I tried to sit up. "No, no. Don't move yet. I'll get Jelena to come look at you."

I was not thrilled at the prospect of seeing her, so instead I said, "Wait. Stay with me a moment." It was difficult to speak, for my lips were dry and my tongue slow. Pasha stared wide eyed at me a moment, then without a word went back to cleaning the sweat off my forehead with the damp cloth.

"I'm very thirsty," I said, looking desperately at the bowl in his hands. He saw where I was looking and let me take a swallow by holding the rim to my lips and tilting gently. I was touched by his tenderness. "Have you tended to me like this often?" I asked, wiping my mouth.

Spots of crimson appeared on his freckled cheeks. "We all did. Took turns checking on you, I mean." He looked away. "I came as often as they'd let me, though."

"How long has it been?"

"A couple days," Pasha said. "The fighting seems to be done now."

"Fighting?" I struggled to piece together what had happened, but I was still lost in confusion and I was not sure I knew what he was talking about. For a moment I felt dizzy and thought I might lose consciousness again.

"I really should get Jelena," Pasha said, biting his lower lip, "She said to come tell her at once if you woke and you really don't look well."

"I want water and perhaps a little food, is all," I said, but the boy was already up and heading out the door. He paused for a moment, just long enough to turn and smile shyly at me, then was gone. I chuckled despite myself at this. I had seen Pasha commit acts of debauchery beyond anything I could have previously imagined, and yet still I found him charmingly childish and almost innocent. My affection for him was genuine and deeper than I thought, though I certainly knew what he felt for me was something greater than mere affection. And yet the thought of his love for me no longer seemed an annoyance, as it once had. Instead, I was thankful for it, appreciating his attention even if I was uncertain I could ever return it.

When Jelena came, she did not come alone. Alek and Shara were by her side, and I could make out Pasha lingering behind them. Behind him, though, the doorway was suddenly dwarfed by the unmistakable shape of Golmeir. All looked pleased to see me awake except perhaps Jelena, who wore her best professional face as she lay her hand across my forehead and then held two fingers against my neck to feel my pulse.

"What's happened?" I asked abruptly. "What did I miss?"

Alek, looking so happy and handsome it nearly made me dizzy yet again, came to sit on the foot of my bed. "Do you remember anything?" he asked.

"The temple burned," I said in response.

"There was a great commotion," Alek explained, "You were wounded."

I nodded, remembering. "I fought with Jacek."

Shara clicked her tongue. "I thought as much, but we weren't sure," she said. "He's nowhere to be found now. Left with the others, most likely." Her face was pale, and her look full of concern for me. I gave her a weak smile to show her I was alright.

"We saw the smoke and heard the noise of fighting," Alek continued, "Then we couldn't find you at camp and that caused a panic. So we all came charging into the village to rescue you."

"Fortunately for you," Jelena added tonelessly. She pulled back the blanket far enough to reveal my wound, cleaned and bandaged.

"Fortunately for all of us," Shara said, glowering at Jelena with obvious distaste. "Those of us who believed in you were fighting those that didn't, and our side needed help. Your people made the difference, especially the giants."

I nodded to Golmeir who returned the gesture affectionately without saying a word.

Jelena removed the bandages gently and inspected the skin beneath. "Remarkable," she murmurred, "Your wound has healed faster and cleaner than expected. It's almost miraculous."

Alek grinned and squeezed my foot through the blanket. "Markis is tougher than he looks." His face beamed with relief, and I (always a mirror to him) returned the expression. "And," he added, winking at Jelena, "He had a good medician."

The light in my face went out as quickly as it had appeared.

She did not acknowledge the compliment. "The wound was serious," Jelena said, mouth pursed in concentration, "When I first examined you I thought it likely you would die."

Alek stood up suddenly, his demeanor changed. "You didn't tell me that!"

She took a step toward him and put a hand on his chest. "I didn't want to worry you. I wasn't sure."

Shara pushed herself through the couple and came to my side. "Markis is not like other men. He is the Sha'Eluid. He has great power."

I knew at once that my speedy recovery had little to do with being the son of power awaited by my people. This was Damon's work, and I felt a sour distaste in my mouth at the realization that he had saved me once again. I did not want to feel like I owed him anything. I tried to push thoughts of him away, but I could feel that he was near. He was in the room, listening to our every word and waiting for his opportunity to be alone with me again. It was a struggle to ignore the feeling of him in the back of my mind, a struggle I was losing.

"What of my father?" I said, trying to focus my thoughts elsewhere.

Jelena turned to face me, pulling a loose strand of her hair back into place. "He is stable, for the moment. I have done what I can for him."

"Thank you." The words were more difficult to say than I expected, and I think that was clear from my voice. I could not look at her, but I saw her nod out of the corner of my eye. "What of the rest of our people?" This was directed at Shara, who knelt down next to my bed to look me in the eyes.

"We stand behind you," she said, but I could tell that it was not the whole truth. She took a breath and said, "Some have fled - they refused to recognize you as the one awaited. I'm certain now Jacek has gone with them."

"How many?"

"Of the ones who opposed you, only a few remain. Many perished on both sides."

"How many...?" I asked again.

She bit her lip in hesitation, but could not lie to me. "Between the deaths and the desertions, those among us of fighting age are reduced by half. Perhaps slightly less."

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I remember the pounding of my blood at my temple and how my mouth grew dryer than before, which I would have thought was impossible. So many of my people dead, and because of me. I had expected no less, but it was still not easy to hear of it.

Shara no doubt knew what I was thinking. She leaned in to grasp my arm. "The rest of us await your orders. We mourn our lost brothers and sisters, but this was all foretold. We know you to be the one, and we are yours to command." It was meant to be reassuring, no doubt, but it only added another great weight of responsibility to my shoulders.

I tried to sit up, only to be overwhelmed by a wave of protestation from everyone present. I shook my head, annoyed. "I cannot lie here when there is much to be done. My people need me!"

"They need you to rest," Jelena said crisply. "You'll be no kind of leader if you don't recover fully."

"I am fine," I insisted. Jelena threw an exasperated look at Alek. So did the others - all of them looking at my friend and expecting him to reason with me where they could not.

"Please, Markis," he said, stroking my arm. His touch was somehow both calming and electric. "Just one more night. You're healing well, you heard Jelena say so. Just rest here one more night, just to make sure. Tomorrow we'll face what we must."

I could not say no to him, and he knew it. They all knew it. For a moment I felt resentment that they would use this weakness against me, but at last I relented, too weary to argue further. Another night of rest it would be. I sighed and relaxed back against my pillow.

"I shall tell the others you are not to be disturbed," Shara said, "But tomorrow they will want to hear you speak. They will want to know what is in store for us."

As do I, I thought, sighing. Shara kissed my forehead and left the room silently. At her exit, I was suddenly reminded again of Damon, for I could still feel his presence. It grew stronger as fewer people were around. I was gripped with a panic at the thought that, once they were all gone, he would come for me again. I found it more difficult to breathe.

"I'd like water and maybe something to eat," I managed to say.

Jelena nodded and headed to the door, "I'll arrange to have them brought to you," she said.

"Perhaps Alek can bring them," I suggested, trying not to sound desperate. "It would be nice to have some company for a while."

Alek had a conflicted look on his face, then looked at his new lover. "I'm helping Jelena tend to those wounded in the battle," he said, "My place is really with them. I'll come to visit you in the morning though, I promise. We'll catch up then." He searched my face, wanting a sign of approval.

I tried to give it to him, mustering a weak smile and a nod that was likely unconvincing. They left together, Jelena slipping an arm through Alek's, and I tried not to feel bitter. I tried to remember my vision in the mountain tomb and the peaceful feeling of completeness that it had brought. I tried to cling to my new wisdom of how all was connected, how all beings were one, how nothing was ever truly lost. My pain was too great, and I was too weary. The wisdom and peace I had gained in the tomb seemed very far away. Damon's presence grew stronger, on the other hand, and I found my anxiety growing with it.

"Golmeir," I said eagerly, for the giant still loomed near the doorway "You will stay with me for a while, won't you? I would rest better knowing you were here."

The giant bowed apologetically. "I cannot, friend," he rumbled, "Word has come from my father, Chief of our Clan. He summons me home, with Talmeir. I am to be judged. I must leave at once, almost this very moment. I will set one of my brethren to guard you as I have done."

I stared at him in shock. "So the other giants are staying?"

"The few who now accompany you will remain, for now," he said, "Until the headfather should decide otherwise." There was tightness in his voice, and for the first time I considered what going home would mean for my friend.

"Are you in danger?" I asked, sitting up again.

The giant was silent a moment, and I again studied his handsome features and wondered that I had ever found him ugly. His silent rumination made him seem noble and wise, but his brow was furrowed slightly with worry. "I do not know," he said at last, "But I believe when I tell all that I have seen and done, my honor may be restored. You had the courage to return home to face your people's judgment and risk their ire... I can do the same. Perhaps I can be redeemed...our Clan knows forgiveness."

"You deserve it," I said sadly. "I shall miss you, friend." It was true. I had come to think of the giant as a true and comforting companion. I could not imagine facing the coming trials without him. "Hurry back."

He stepped forward to lay his massive hand atop my head in a gesture almost like a benediction, smiling. "Be well, Markis. We shall meet again soon." And he turned and lumbered out of the room. As his large shape disappeared, I nearly cried out in distress at being left alone... except I soon realized I was not.

He had been standing near the corner timidly all that time, and only stepped forward when I turned and noticed him. He smiled and nodded to me and turned to go with obvious reluctance, thinking no doubt that he would not be wanted.

"Pasha," I said his name softly. He turned. "I... I find I cannot bear the thought of being alone tonight. Will you stay? Please?"

His face radiated with pleasure. "I'm here for you," he said, "I always am."

"I know," I said, and moved to make room for him in the bed. He slipped in beside me and held me so tightly I could almost ignore the dark presence of Damon which seemed to inhabit the corners of the room, held at bay by the attention of my companion.

He correctly judged my need and made no move to kiss me or to touch my nakedness. Instead, he spoke without needing me to say much in return, talking of Stepan his adopted father and of their bond that was slowly redeveloping since their reunion. He talked of happy memories, and of beautiful, trifling things that made me smile and even chuckle now and then. He did not speak of wars, of responsibilities, of destiny or of leadership. I found I loved him for this most of all. I pulled him closer and kissed his cheek gently.

At last I slept, and when I awoke he was beside me still, an arm across my chest, his nose grinding gently into my shoulder. I felt his breath on my skin and smiled. _________________________________________________________________________

The next few days are largely a blur. I was allowed to rise and visit with my father and those of my people who had taken my part. They were shaken from the recent conflict - never in our long history had we fought with one another. Many had now shed the blood of those they once called friends and brothers, and they would bear the scars of that for the rest of their lives. My heart broke for them, for I knew too well what they felt. Jacek who I had loved was out there somewhere, gravely wounded and likely seriously disfigured because of me. I shared in my people's sorrow and mourned with them, speaking with compassion and understanding as best as I could. It seemed to help, somewhat.

As for my father, he seemed little improved to my eyes and was able to speak to me but very little. Jelena, however, remained optimistic so I allowed myself to hope I would not lose him soon. When he felt up to it, he too spoke to the people about the importance of our task at hand and his words carried even more weight than my own.

There were preparations made for our journey north - unconvincing and half-hearted preparations since little was known of our next step. There was no word from Cedrik, Gavril, or Burgess or of their respective cities where we had sent them to investigate. My informal council met often to debate in heated tones about how we should proceed, but to little result. One one thing we all agreed: there was not enough information on what was going on out amongst the three great cities, and until we heard from those we had sent there was little that could be done.

In the meantime, we trained. We learned from one another. The people of my tribe were reluctant to share our ancient secrets of combat, but my father and I persuaded them this was the very purpose for which our tribe had been founded. Soon all my other soldiers, including the giants, were studying the techniques of the Taluid. In the process, we were becoming more like one unified army than just a collection of separate forces. Even the Veruvians and the Tharonites were working well together. My warriors were good, certainly, but I began to worry if they were good enough for the struggles that lay ahead. This worry crept into my head and would not let me relax even for a moment.

It was difficult to rest, though Jelena insisted that sleep was vital to ensure I made a full recovery. When sleep would not come, however, I spent my time reading the record of Alander that I had recovered from the tomb. It was lengthy, and the writing faded or damaged in places, so I made little progress. In other places, my knowledge of the Sacred Tongue proved inadequate to accurately translate the text. In this regard, Stepan's knowledge proved invaluable, and if there was anybody as excited by the discovery of the scroll as I was, it was the old Tharonite. Together we spent many hours decoding difficult portions of the work. What I read of my predecessor and his life and adventures was encouraging, even illuminating in many places. It would take a lifetime to absorb all the wisdom that he had set down, and I began to feel as though the ancient scroll was the true treasure I had been meant to discover, the crown a mere trifle in comparison.

Still, there was some slight awkwardness between Stepan and I. At my request, Pasha stayed with me each night as my bedfellow, though I still did not take him as a lover. Whatever his foster father's opinions were of this new relationship between his son and I, he did not share them. And yet I know he struggled to accept it, as no doubt my own father would if he had not been too ill to take notice. Once, and only once, I had attempted to bring up the matter by way of assuring Stepan that nothing inappropriate was taking place between Pasha and I - nothing, certainly, like the rites of the Veruvians which Stepan, as a Tharonite, had opposed so thoroughly.

"There is no need," he had cut me off swiftly, "Pavel is a grown man now, and can make his own choices. It is none of my affair." His demeanor was stiff and formal, completely unlike his normal excitable nature, and he quickly changed the subject back to Alander's history.

I had sought to clear the air, but instead had only made matters more difficult between us. It did not change the fact, however, that Pasha and I were growing closer. I found that while I could not bring myself to seek pleasure in his body, his presence cheered me and kept Damon and my loneliness away. I cared for him, and deeply, but could not entirely remove other thoughts from my mind. I kept hoping that Alek would come to visit with me, as he promised, and longed to spend even a few moments in his company, talking. I would have rejoiced at any interaction, no matter how simple, but he seemed to deliberately be keeping his distance. At last, frustrated and desperate for just a few moments with my friend, I confronted him after a council meeting.

"I thought you would not want me hanging about," he said in answer to my somewhat accusatory question, "I thought it best to give you space."

I shook my head, stunned. "How you could possibly think that?"

"I wanted to make it easier," he said lamely, "Besides, you have another now... do you not?"

I honestly did not have any idea what he was talking about, and he had to hint a little further before I realized he was referring to Pasha. "It isn't like that," I protested.

"He shares your bed," Alek pointed out.

"As a friend, not a lover," I said, realizing that the distinction did not sound convincing, "Only because the alternative is to be alone."

"Don't misunderstand me," he replied, raising his hands defensively, "I think it is good... it is very good for you to have a... a friend to rely on. There is a lot depending on you, and you need someone like that who can always be there when you need him. I..." He took a deep breath. "I can't be that for you as I once was."

"You don't have to say anything about it." I turned away. "We've already said all there is to say."

"Then we'll say it again," he insisted, "Please. You must understand that my feelings for you are unchanged from what they were. You are my dearest friend, closer to me than even my own brother. If... other parts of our relationship have changed, that at least has not. I'm still here for you, Markis. You can trust me completely. I hope you know that."

It was difficult to know what to say to that, and when I returned only silence he left to seek out Jelena. A cloud of darkness settled upon me. That night I could not bring myself to find joy in Pasha's company, and I asked him as kindly as possible to leave me alone for the night. He left without protestation.

As soon as he was gone, Damon came for me. I had expected this, and it was with only a little surprise that I felt myself surrender to him completely. _________________________________________________________________________

The next morning the knock on my door proved to be Alek. I was groggy and drained from my long night with Damon, not to mention quite conflicted about the man in front of me, so I could not at first understand what he said to me and had to ask him to repeat it.

"Cedrik has arrived," he said again, voice eager with excitement, "And Markis... he's not alone."

Somehow, I knew at once what he meant. I quickly dressed and followed him downstairs where the others were all waiting: Shara, Jelena, Pasha and Stepan, along with representatives from the Broxbourneans, the Veruvians, and the giants. Among them, though, were two newcomers with the evidence of hard travel about them. Cedrik was much the same as he had left us, if somewhat stronger and healthier than I was used to seeing him. His resemblance to Alek seemed almost cruel to me now, a reflection of agony doubling my torment. Then, too, I was suddenly struck by the realization that I had at one point or another pleasured both brothers and so served as an awkward link between them. Of course, in Cedrik's case the act had been done at a king's command to prove myself and for Alek it had been done only at the command of my own heart - a sovereign more tyrannical with orders more cruel and arbitrary than King Valen.

The very man who stood before me now.

"Markis," he said, nodding to me respectfully. He wore simple clothes and a long cloak with a hood that was currently down. This garb was no doubt meant to hide his identity on his journey from the city and yet in my opinion such a disguise was useless. Anybody with eyes could tell he was a king. "It's good to see you again," he continued.

"A strange thing to say," I replied coolly, "Considering the last time we met I was your prisoner." Alek stood silently by my side in support. This was a grudge we had both been bearing.

"It gave me no pleasure, I assure you," Valen replied in a tone that matched my own. His eyes narrowed as he considered me. Once I had thought him my senior in age, rank, and wisdom. The first to show me compassion since my exile, he had won my admiration almost immediately and filled me with a desire to win his. Now my feelings were decidedly more mixed. "The situation left me with little choice."

"The great good demanded," I said. I knew him well enough to know that to his mind the end justified all means. Queen Valessa had had much to say about her brother's methods. Admittedly, she was perhaps not the most reliable source of information but if even half of what she had said was true than Valen was not, in my opinion, the honorable king worthy of my admiration that I had once taken him for.

"It always does," he returned. "Besides, everything turned out alright in the end, did it not? You escape saved your life and that of your friend, while buying me time in the negotiations with my dear wife. We both profited - very fortunate, indeed! Almost as if it were the plan all along..." He trailed off meaningfully and smiled broadly, hoping to break the tension.

I wanted to be angry, but there was too much sense in his words. "The escape did seem a little too easy," I admitted.

"Do you really think the upper room of an inn is the best prison I could manage? I am not a fool." The grin again. Everybody in the room was looking at me, trying to judge my reaction so that they could determine their own feelings about this man. I had no doubt that were I in the mood to seek vengeance from Valen, my followers in the room would help me claim it, king or no. I had to choose my words carefully. Resentful as I was against him, it would not due for this meeting to descend so quickly into violence.

"The Queen knows you to be no fool as well," I said, "I suppose she found your attempt to capture us less convincing than we did."

"To be sure, but in the eyes of the people I seemed to be in agreement with her and she could hardly call me out. At the very least, it made it a little more difficult for her to challenge me openly for a time. A temporary delay, I'm afraid."

Here Cedrik spoke for the first time, speaking as much to his brother as to me. "Our worst fears have come to pass. The Queen has mobilized her forces against us, and Fermanagh is at war with itself. Men and women fight in the streets, soldiers against amazarii, and even the common people are in thrown into chaos. It is madness."

Valen took over the story. "Troops arrived from Broxbourne as we feared. We hoped the amazarii would balk at the assistance of male allies, but the Archbishop was shrewd. He has only a few women in his armies, to be sure, but from these he chose the commanders and officers of the force that came to Fermanagh. United with the amazarii, my men had little chance. Many were killed, and we only just escaped with our lives."

My council took this news in with somber faces, and I could almost see their minds furiously at work on the implications.

"Have you no forces left?" Alek asked, disbelieving.

"What few men were not killed have fled and scattered, as I have," the King replied, "The Queen has sole possession of the city now, and has declared herself sole sovereign."

"Sad news," Stepan said, stroking his beard, "And of great interest to our cause, if not entirely in the way you expect, Your Grace. With the Archbishop's attention diverted to Fermanagh, it is the perfect time to strike at him directly. I say we march north at once."

"And leave Fermanagh in ruins?" Cedrik exclaimed, "You can't be serious! Markis, you must aid us."

"Valessa is a threat to you until she has been brought to heel," Valen added, "Pass by the city and leave her in control, and you will have an enemy at your back all the way to Broxbourne."

"We do not have numbers to reclaim the city," one of the Broxbournean soldiers pointed out.

"Then you do not have the numbers to face the Archbishop," Cedrik snapped, "Why then would you deliver yourselves to him before you are ready?"

"In Broxbourne we have allies who await our coming," the soldier said, "They will abandon the Archbishop when they see the crown of Alander, flocking to our banners. We will divide the enemy's power into two in one swift stroke. Divided, they cannot stand against us."

His words struck me with a thought, a sudden, dangerous, and possibly quite insane thought. I turned my back to everybody else and rubbed my temple, praying silently that this was truly sound strategy and that I was not simply going mad. I felt their eyes on my back and the room fell quiet.

"Markis," Pasha said, stepping closer to me, "Are you alright?" I nodded at him distractedly.

Alek stepped close to me and leaned in conspiratorially. For once I was too distracted to grow dizzy at his closeness. "What should we do?" he asked, his voice low.

"Do you feel lucky?" I asked him in return. He could only blink at that. "I remember when your luck at dice won us all the gold we needed for our trip to Carmathen," I explained, "We will need such fortune again, I'm afraid. The dice I mean to throw are much less forgiving than those you played with then."

"You have a plan," he said.

"Something like that." I took a breath and turned to face the others. "We must stop Valessa. Remember, our task is not simply to stop the Archbishop but to bring peace to all the lands. The King is right, anyway. We ignore this problem at our own peril. We will head to Fermanagh at once."

Cedrik gasped with relief but Valen merely nodded, his face a mask. Stepan looked as though he might argue, but thought better of it. Nobody voiced complaint. My mind was clearly made up.

"It has been said that we do not have enough strength to oppose the Queen's forces." I continued. "I disagree. With the addition of the giants and the remnants of my tribe, the forces we have assembled here may be small in number but are more than a match for an enemy twice our size. We could win, but not quickly - and speed is of the essence. Once our march to Broxbourne begins, it must move fast and with no delays. We seek to build momentum amongst the people of the lands, to wash over them like a wave that gathers strength as it goes, and so we must always be in forward motion. If we are to take Fermanagh quickly, we must have allies within the city itself."

They said nothing, so I gathered my thoughts and continued. "To that end, I must send a small group ahead to the city on a mission to prepare the way. One of you will lead this mission. Our army here must train and prepare itself quickly and then mobilize for the march north. If all goes as planned, by the time we reach Fermanagh much of our work will have been done for us."

"Who will you send for this task?" Valen asked, with an eyebrow raised.

Several people stood forward at once to volunteer, including (to my great surprise and dismay) Pasha. He said nothing, however, while many of the others shouted out pleas to be the one to represent my cause, boasting of their prowress. I caught his eye and shook my head slightly, forcing him to blush and step back sheepishly.

"Send me," Cedrik said when the others had quieted, "I know the city well. More importantly, I know the politics. I know the men of my city, I know how they think. Those who remain in Fermanagh will be treated as little better than slaves. They will want to fight back, and I swear to you that every one of them will stand up to fight for you when you arrive to face Valessa."

I placed my hand on his shoulder and shook my head again. "You misunderstand me," I said, echoing words he spoken to me once long before, "You misunderstand my purpose entirely. Your knowledge of the city will be put to good use, but you cannot be my representative. There is one person here, and one alone, who I can entrust with the mission I have in mind... That is, of course, if she will accept."

I turned suddenly to Shara, once my bride, who had said nothing through the whole meeting. Every eye turned with me, and when she realized they were all looking at her she took a step back in surprise. She looked at me then, the shock and confusion plain on her face -- but then a heartbeat later her eyebrows shot up with understanding. Her jaw tensed, her eyes flashed with fire, and I knew she would not refuse.

Heaven help me, I will finish this story one day. Feel free to send me encouragement or questions at thephallocrat@gmail.com