Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/historical/the-heathens/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between young-adult and adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty TODAY at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming.
We eventually retired, Pam pouring sweat and panting, the beer long-consumed. Harcos made it clear that there would be no UM for desert, but he did fondle and tease me as we cuddled. I was wriggly enough that he finally brought me off just to calm me enough to sleep, cooing and crooning into my ear even as I tried not to shout to the world my elation at his touch as much as my own eruption.
The Heathens 14: New Compatriots
By Bear Pup
M/T; oral
I woke early enough to drain Harcos before he really waked. I could even taste a faint tang from the fiery herbs the night before. As I suckled his cock to hardness and began to tease his taint and ass, Harcos finally started to participate. He guided my head in a slower but more satisfying rhythm. On each upstroke, he paused for me to attack his foreskin and glans, and each downstroke to see if I was ready to pull him all the way into my throat. As it happened, I couldn't no matter how I tried. The herbs had done more than burn, they also tightened my throat. It took perhaps twenty minutes of this slow and luxuriant action before Harcos tensed and cried out, flooding me with his seed.
I rushed out to get the cookfire stoked and the water on to heat, then ran to the bushes for my morning needs. One thing I had forgotten about the c?za -- it burned more whilst leaving than it did coming in. It was all I could do not to howl, and wiping seemed to actually spread the pain. I took a quick detour to the mountain stream, braving the achingly-cold water on my sensitive tenders n order to to rinse off back there.
I was surprised to find Harcos all but dressed for the road when I returned. I fell to his feet and tied the complex sandals, apparently the last thing other than weapons he needed. I got the cereal bundle out and began to mix the breakfast and Harcos began the slow repacking of the cart. Zajak was out next and made a mad dash for the bushes and I winced as I heard him squeak with pain.
That was nothing, though, compared to a few minutes later as the three of us consumed the porridge. Pameten had just gone into the bushes when a flat-out howl of agony and cursing erupted. The look I got from Harcos was priceless, half reproof and half admiration for a prank well-played. Pameten returned soaking wet; he'd obviously availed himself of the stream as well.
Zajak bustled to help him dress and a seriously-disgruntled Pameten joined us shortly for the porridge. I started to say something, feeling rather guilty for the trick when Harcos nudged me with his sandal winked, shaking his head very slightly.
"So, friend Pameten, how are you feeling this morning? You seemed rather troubled last night at dinner."
Pam's eyes narrowed. "Thank you for asking, friend Harcos. Troubled? No, not at all. Dinner was very... cleansing. I feel quite wonderful actually. Ready to take on the day!"
"Good, because we need to break camp and check the river crossing again. It is getting late and our absence will be noted, especially since Optio Barea is likely already nearing Winter Over. We may have to hurry quite a bit as it is."
Pam's eyes widened as two thoughts converged: a flaming asshole and a long, fast march. Harcos had set the trap perfectly, though, and again he had no way to back out. Suddenly his eyes narrowed to slits and he scowled. "You did this. This is because of the Blue Lotus and the Orpin Rose, isn't it?"
"Did what, friend-Pameten?"
"That, that whatever-it-was on that {word}ed bird! You had that little creature there try to kill me!"
Harcos spun to me with a growl, but also a wink and a smile. In a very serious voice, he demanded, "Kucuk! Did I tell you anything about preparing that fowl?"
I let my voice shake with fake fear, "No, sir. Not a word!" I bowed down both for effect and because I knew I could not help laughing if I watched his face and that of Pam, or the hilarity threatening to erupt from Zajak behind his master's shoulder
"Did I touch that bird at all?"
"N-no! Only m-me and Zajak. And I chose the herbs, sir! Did we do wrongly? D-did the food displease you?"
"No, I found it very pleasing, but my comrade seems to think I have punished him for his attempt to poison me the other night." He turned to Pameten, "Are you satisfied, honoured fellow warrior?"
Pam was far, far from satisfied. He knew he'd been had but had no idea how. He grunted his assent and turned to find Zajak fleeing into the bushes for an urgent call of giggles. Pameten grumped about, slowly dismantling his own camp, directing Zajak with simple one-word utterances when the boy returned.
Just before we were ready, Pam's eyes slowly crossed and he flew back into the bushes. The noises were both entertaining and painful to hear. I saw Zajak getting nervous and reassured him that it would be fine and that, in all fairness, he DID drug me and Harcos and then tormented the two of us when we mock-battled the day before. This was only mete.
Harcos set a brisk pace and tutted and teased Pameten for his frequent and desperate forays off the trial until we reached the edge of the settlement. He paused then, and turned to Pam. "Friend and fellow warrior, I just recalled a salve that my..." there was a catch in his voice, "Strasta prepared that might help you. Kucuk, bring me water, a cloth, some oil and the herb bundle, please." I rushed to do it and assist in the preparation.
In a tiny crucible, he ground two herbs, one of which I recognised willow. He added what seemed to be a bright-white ash then drizzled in the oil, mixing to make a thick paste. "Zajak! attend me, please." Harcos pulled Pameten to the side of the cart and had him brace his hands against it. Harcos flipped the other warrior's kilt up, showing the pale flesh of the man's ass.
"Zajak, you will need to perform this service for the rest of the day and possibly tomorrow whenever your master voids himself. First, wash the area with water, then dab some of the ointment around the lips and then inside -- yes, boy, inside -- Pam, shut up. It's a finger and I know for a fact you've a lot of those up there in your day -- until you can see no more red show through the white."
All of a sudden, Pameten let loose the most delighted sigh I'd heard. "Oh, Harcos. Oh, my dear friend and warrior. That is WONDERFUL! How can I ever repay such kindness?"
"Oh, don't worry, friend-Pameten. It isn't kindness." Pam lowered his kilt and turned, eyes narrowed again in furious betrayal.
"You DID--"
"No, neither Kucuk nor I lied to you, Pam. The herb on the fowl was nothing more than something to which you are more... sensitive than others." Harcos smiled then, a barbarian smile filled with danger and triumph, "The forced march today, though, knowing full well your condition was entirely my doing and just punishment for the trick you played with the corrupt Blue Lotus tea and the sneaky Orpin Rose. You, Pam, you degenerate son of seven different fathers and unknown mother, deserved every fucking howl from fiery pain you felt this day. We're even."
Pameten was ready to explode, but instead burst out in hearty laughter. "I am repaid, you diseased monster, but I will not forget this!" He turned to Zajak, "Do those herbs work when dried?" Zajak nodded.
"Good. Gather a nice handful and hang them from the cart-side to dry in the sun. I can think of several people who need to become... familiar with its special properties. But if one fucking leaf finds its way into anything I eat or drink ever again, I will shove the entire bundle straight up your ass with my fist. Are we clear, my dear and precious Zajak?" My friend's head bobbed in frantic agreement, eyes wide but clearly delighted to get off so easy.
"Now, you three wait here with the carts and let me go check the crossing." Harcos went off and I pulled together a quick fire-ring and started water to boil. When he returned about an hour later, just past the noontime hour, Harcos was frowning and worried. I dished him out some stewed rabbit-jerky and he squatted next to me. All of us watched eagerly.
"The crossing is open but not clear or simple. The locals laid a wooden causeway across the worst of the mud, but now that the majority of Legionnaires have crossed, they demand payment. They are confident that they can safely extort those of us who remain."
Pameten had a serious and unhappy look on his face. "What do they demand?"
"Two silver per cart and one per person."
Pam growled at that. They both stood and moved to arm themselves. Harcos made sure that I had Agyar, my short, wide dagger, strapped to me, then added a long shaft with a small, bronze tip. Not a spear, but more of a long cudgel with a jagged head. It would be useful most to keep an attacker at bay, not to fight aggressively. Pameten had given Zajak a length of chain, a weapon that needed neither skill nor finesse to unnerve any potential attacker.
My hands shook as I attached and tightened the boiled-leather arm guards in place, adding a shoulder-piece as well to the armour on his chest and back. He pulled something like a handless leather glove up my forearms, obviously intended to deflect but not stop a blade or a blow. Zajak and I were now shaking wrecks, but our masters coached and calmed us until we were steady and looked merely stoic instead of panicked.
The camp we'd stayed in was gone. Scattered traders gathered on one bank or the other, ready to cross. On this side were a few other warriors heading in the same direction as us. Only two groups were ready to cross, though, and joined us. One with man and two servants of indeterminate age, perhaps in the middle of their second decade, all on foot with heavy packs. The other appeared servantless, a painfully tall man with slightly darker skin, pulling a longer, flatter cart than either Pameten or Harcos used.
The eight of us moved to the que waiting for the direction to turn. Harcos spoke briskly to me. I trembled but readied myself. Merchants and travellers were headed toward us from the southern bank at that point. Perhaps ten minutes into our wait, the group of local toughs on the far bank stopped the next merchant in line. A small, rat-like local man with two heavily-armed guys at his side worked up the line, price varying by the sized and perceived-value of each cart or trader.
He stopped abruptly when he faced us. Before he could speak I stepped forward and spoke low but strongly in the local trading language. "We will pay eight silver to cross," I indicated all four groups, "that is all you will get."
He laughed at me, "Listen to me little boy. The price for warriors," he spat the word, "is two silver for a cart and one for each person. For your impudence, you and your friends will pay double. That will be one semis and a quadrans."
"I am very sorry that you misunderstood me." The 'little boy' comment had stripped any trace of hesitancy from my voice or manner. I was pissed and let it show. "That is the famed barbarian warrior Harcos. Next to him is his brother in arms, none other than Pameten. If you are too slow or ignorant to know those names, find someone who does."
I could see that he had at least heard something, either the names themselves or the certainty in my voice made him wary. "The others are their trusted companions. You and your band of thieves will fall like grain before them if you try their patience. I am from here, brother, and I pleaded your case so they would offer something for the trouble of building your bridge. Harcos, my master, was so offended that his intent was to kill you all and destroy the causeway after crossing to punish your presumption at blocking the way of the warriors of Rome.
"And that is your choice now. Do I tell my master that you gratefully accept his generous offer, or do I tell him that I was wrong to plead your case? I will accept my brutal punishment after he levels you and your works, but I will offer no prayers over your corpse." I glanced back to see Harcos straining his muscles, bulking them in a clear threat echoed by his stance and his blazing eyes. Pameten looked completely different, but no less terrifying. He stroked the handle of one of his two adzes like a lover and bore a smile of hunger, malice and delicious anticipation.
The little man looked back at his own 'guards', as they stood in obviously terror, then to the main party waiting at the foot of the causeway. I could almost hear the counting-stones clicking in his head. "I will accept eight silver and you will complain loudly for the rest of the tradesmen to hear of paying two semis. Are we agreed?"
I held forth the eight silver that I had palmed and they vanished instantly. In the local tongue, I berated him loudly as a thief for the incredible rate of two semis to simply pass, an insult to the warriors of Rome, then repeated the performance in my broken Latin, ostensibly trying to persuade my master not to extract vengeance on this venal little crook. The man nodded and swiftly made his way to the next victim.
Harcos gave me the faintest trace of a smile and a broad wink before resuming his scowl. The crossing itself was no pleasure stroll. The rough-hewn split-logs clawed at the wheels constantly and nearly took Zajak and his load into the mud just past the midpoint. We were finally across and our four groups worked swiftly past the waiting merchants.
Harcos halted us all when we reached a silent area, and got two silver from each of the other warriors. The group on foot set off at a quick pace, but the servantless man stayed.
"You are Harcos and Pameten, yes?"
Harcos replied, "We are. I don't know your name, soldier, but you look familiar. Are you by chance the warrior with that little sorcerer by your side?" The tall, thin and dark smiled and moved back to his long cart, speaking low then pulling back the cover. A tiny figure appeared. He was just entering his growth, a youth of perhaps 13 summers at a guess with a paleness under olive skin.
"Allow me to introduce my dear friend and companion, Pyrkagia. I am Stelio and proud to meet you both." He clasped arms with both Harcos and Pam while the youth bowed to and smiled at both Zajak and myself.
Pameten looked at the youth for a moment and exclaimed, "YOU! You're the little hero that scared off the horde of that bastard grandson of Antiochus when they ambushed Karin." The boy smiled and bowed.
Stelio spoke for him. "Pyrkagia seldom speaks, brother-warriors. But I can tell you that he is gratified and humbled to be remembered by the man who saved my own hide (and his) on the retreat from Caesarea."
"So, Stelio and the fabled Pyrkagia, will you join us as we head to Winter Over?" Harcos asked, smiling.
The tall, dark man looked at the diminutive youth and cocked an eyebrow, and the boy have a tiny twitch of his head. "We would be honoured. How far shall we go before camp this day?"
As it turned out, not far at all. Getting from the valley and over the crossing had taken all of the morning and a good piece of the afternoon. Within two hours, we came across two other watercourses. The track had swung far out from the hills to a point where they could be easily forded, but the area was a sea of mud between the nearer and further streams. It was not yet twilight when we pulled the three carts into a rough triangle, perhaps thirty paces from the stream's edge.
This was the first time I'd been in a camp with Harcos in an open area. Always before, he had found a close or a copse or the valley we'd stayed in for the last several days. The three men conferred in soft voices, pointing often, then instructed us to begin setting up the camp in a specific spot. Stelio and Pyrkagia headed immediately to a spot where the stream dropped into a pool.
Pameten grabbed a sack of small stakes and worked with Harcos to string fine threads from one stake to the next, perhaps a hand-span above the baked dirt of the ground here. After the camp was completely encircled, they went around setting some small metal cups atop the stakes. Zajak and I would look over, bemused, but we couldn't come up with a good guess as to the purpose.
Perhaps an hour later, as the disk of the sun just began to kiss the horizon, we could see the other pair approaching. Harcos looked up from his work on the fire and yelled out, "Snares at twenty!" The man and boy stopped and looked carefully as they walked, and stepped high over the nearly invisible threads. I finally turned to Harcos who motioned me to him and walked me to where the thread was stretched. Even knowing where it was and standing close, it was hard to see.
"The first night we spent on the road, Kucuk, how would we have known that someone approached?"
I frowned. "Well, all that thick brush would have... OH!" Harcos smiled broadly and clapped my shoulder.
"Well done my smart little puppy. Watch now." Harcos bend down and tugged the thread lightly and the two cups atop the nearest stakes fell. I had been wrong. They were not merely cups. Instead each held a small metal ball in its base and they rang madly as they fell and bounced on the hard earth. Pam and Stelio turned instantly then relaxed.
"Like the brush, Kucuk, this tells us not only that someone approaches but their direction as well. We will sleep armed tonight, but much more safely." He had me reset the cup-bells so I could see how precarious their balance was. A breeze would not unseat them, but any touch to the thread or stakes would send them toppling.
We returned and found Zajak and Pyrkagia naked and busily cleaning and finning three sterlets, the brilliant white of the stripes on the spine and sides almost glowing against the flint background. I joined them, sharing the task of skinning the nasty little beasts, something far tougher than dealing with a scaly fish. It was the reason for our nakedness; the coating on the inner skins reeked and would have soaked quickly into cloth. Once past that, though, the succulent flesh was exposed. Sadly, none of the three were female, so there was no caviar.
While we did that, Harcos pitched in to help Stelio set up his odd tent. It was built atop the cart itself, made possible by the longer length and far-set wheels and handle-posts.
Zajak and I chatted happily about how best to prepare the fish. Pyrkagia listened and smiled; it was impossible to tell if he understood us. We collected the offal and waste and moved to the stream as I explained the 'snares' to Zajak. It was getting dark and was very hard to find. I had to use the soft glint off of a cup-bell to be certain. We dumped the carcasses into the stream and washed the smelly slime off before returning.
The fish were soon sizzling over the embers and a pot of yarma (thanks to our new friends) was steeping away with salt and delicate herbs (no c?za) to season it. It was a fine feast, with plenty left for morning. We packed the remains in tight broadleaves and made sure to police closely for any morsels that might attract scavengers.
The three warriors talked around the campfire, but I found myself captivated by the oddly-mismatched pair. The youth was curled within the insanely-long, crossed legs of the dark man, but they touched each other constantly, a gently pat or a stroke, once tapping then petting. They never shared a glance, but seemed to communicate by touch alone. Stelio had not even started to cough from the dry dust before tiny Pyrkagia was handing him the waterskin. When they retired, they rose as one, neither seeming to move before the other. Pam and Zajak retired then as well.
Harcos and I banked the fire carefully, then moved into the tent. I took note of the plethora of weapons around, and frowned that he wanted me to wear my belt with Agyar even as we slept. It was as such a part of my that 'naked' meant 'except for the dagger', but I'd never slept with it before. I started to caress him and he stilled my hand. "We must stay alert, my sharp-eared pup, as the others find... relaxation." I looked up into his smiling eyes and sighed, then curled back into his soft, furred chest. It was the most frustrating hour of my young life.
To our left, the husky voices of Pam and Zajak whispered and grunted, whimpered and groaned. To the right, a higher-pitched keening of delight and pleasure rang coupled with a low moaning of satisfaction, clearly communicating the acts they enjoyed. The crescendo leapt first from the low voices to the left, almost in synch. It seemed to help trigger a quick completion from the right. The rising squeak that was surely Pyrkagia was swiftly matched by a series of powerful chuffs of exertion. Harcos called out, "Good night, my brothers." I had hoped for more than a cuddle, but was already asleep before Harcos even fell into his own light slumber.
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 21 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 13 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 14 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Off the Magic Carpet: 7 chapters .../military/off-the-magic-carpet/ Lake Desolation: 6 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Dear John Letter: 2 chapters .../military/dear-john-letter/ Brother Bear: 1 chapter .../incest/brother-bear/