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.
He smiled wickedly. "Oh, no, Kucuk my puppy. This cloth will never be left behind if a member of the As of Nemesis still breathes. But you are not the only new face to join our sacred band, and with luck we will be in this place several days to protect the flank of the Centuries that come to tame the rebels. Several days and," my master chuckled evilly, "nights as well."
The Heathens 24: The End of Routine
By Bear Pup
When we returned to the site of the battle, my sleepy brethren were already stripping the bodies. Since it was still full-dark, there was no methodical search. The six bodies were stripped bare, effects left where they fell, and thrown off the face of the gorge. All of the warriors except Sziklak returned to sleep, and I set about the cookfire while Furge and Grubo began to assemble the morning meal.
Billen magically appeared at the fireside and took two ladlesful of the near-boiling water in a wide bowl. I realised this would be the first time I'd ever gotten to see morning rituals other than that of Harcos. Billen literally washed Cat awake. I smiled at the well-named Greek rolled and stretched luxuriantly to give the boy with the incomparable ass access to ever part of his lithe physique.
Grubo sensed some movement from his master, Skreini, the Skink. He scurried over and kissed him repeatedly and sometimes deeply, hand busy 'down below', obviously bringing the man to a quiet but intense morning orgasm, Grubo only taking his master's cock in his mouth at the very last moment.
Pam and my friend the Ox were most like Harcos and I, with Volot draining Pameten's piss as the man woke, then suckling deeply. The main difference was that Pam pulled him around and consume Volot's own prodigious cock. I wasn't sure I'd seen it hard before, but the Ox lived up to his name and no mistake. It was a rival for my own master's prick!
Stelio and Pyrkagia made little fuss over waking. They basically cuddled each other awake. It was not much different with Handart. The beauty, Lavic, whispered and teased the calm and quiet man awake until he flipped over onto the giggling youth and kissed him deeply. Say'f and Ghamad had remained clothed through the night and I smiled as I saw Ghamad crawl up inside his master's robe and began to energetically bob his head, sucking his master to wakefulness.
Most accompanied their masters to the latrine and cleaned them thoroughly afterwards, something that Harcos had never asked of me. I determined to ask him at some point. Furge had brewed what he called Road Tea, a mix of Orient Leaf and the rinds of several fruits. It was bright, acidic and stimulating, and all the men drank eagerly of it. Grubo had made a hearty, thick porridge that was unlike any I'd tasted, thick with nuts both ground and chopped; again, all of the men dug into it.
After clearing everything away, Harcos, Sziklak, Say'f and Handart worked their way down the gorge-face to arrange the rebel bodies for the arrival of the Centuries and ensure no unexpected barriers would slow them. The Skink vanished silently, apparently to scout. Pameten and Stelio moved into sentry/defence positions leaving Cat with us.
Cat was a superb organiser and soon had me, Billen, Pyrkagia and Lavic sorting the gear of the night's attackers as well as that taken the day before, then arranging the stores in the small redoubt. Grubo, Ghamad and Volot, the largest of us, were set to shifting large stones and sharp gravel into the cleared route connecting the post to whatever main base had supplied it until last night. It was certainly still passable, but no one would be moving either quickly or silently along it. Furge had the task of closely examining the redoubt itself for structural weaknesses or opportunities.
A soft cry of delight from Billen brought me and my fellow 'collectors' scurrying. One of the dead from the night before must have been a rebel officer of sorts. His kit was far finer than the others, but what drew everyone's attention was leather strips sewn into his tunic. Each strip carried a long, unbroken string of coins, nearly all of them silver. More than just an officer, he was some sort of paymaster as well. His loss, especially the loss of these strips of coin, was a disastrous blow to the rebel force. Few men, even the most dedicated, were willing to fight the might of Rome without any prospect of pay in return.
In a small, leather pouch, though, was true treasure even though none of us knew it at the time. A dozen sheets of velum were there with things none of us, even those who could read, understood. To the flap of the pouch had a handwritten note that I could read but not comprehend, "SCRIBERE V RESPONDEO VII", 'write five respond seven.' Billen took it to his master and Cat's eyes flew wide. He handed it to Furge and whispered, sending him scurrying down the cliff-face.
A few minutes later, the clatter of hooves could be heard. Shouted greetings echoed up from below. A single horse retreated at high speed back the way they came. Furge returned along with Say'f. Furge rushed to us with news. The fighters would arrive within hours, the horsemen had said. The packet was somehow very important, Furge had no idea why, and was rushed back by a horseman with his As-leader's command, "All Speed for the Glory of Rome". Short of the horse literally dying under him, the rider would stop for nothing until reaching the Legion's Commandant. And if the horse died, no rider in the Empire would hesitate to offer his own mount in replacement.
I listened attentively but also watched Say'f and Cat. Cat was more than simply grave now, he was worried. Say'f left to carry whatever the message was to Pameten and Stelio in their positions and Cat stared toward the south-west where a rising column of dust could easily be seen approaching, the Centuries, presumably. The gorge began to tremble, then echo with footfalls as the troops marched in. Two Centuries would be 160 men; how could such a small number cause such noise? Furge had been looking down and gasped, running back to us.
"They have sent two entire Cohorts!" he whispered in awe. There were nearly a thousand men marching below us without pause or break. Harcos, Sziklak and Handart climbed up the path along with seven men we had never met, all in the short-tunic uniforms I'd seen on men on horseback. Our three warriors each carried a crate, as did several of the horsemen each of whom also carried a bedroll. Harcos gave a nod to Cat who whistled shrilly and clearly, utterly like a bird. Pam and Stelio soon came into the area. Everyone but Harcos sat.
Harcos spoke. "Eques," he nodded to the leader of the horsemen, easily spotted for the longer plume in his helmet, "brings news. The Legion received orders not long after we left Winter Over. There is something different about this particular rebellion. It is organised and, based on what we found on the bodies of those we killed, both well-funded and well-planned. We will hold this position until the cohorts you heard marching clear this pocket, but we are to be prepared to move quickly afterwards.
Pameten's voice was different, somehow. He had a note of precision with which I'd never heard him address Harcos, "Servus, do we have a direction?
Harcos' expression did not change, but his voice was grave, "West." The rest of the As shared worried and startled looks. "But that does not concern us now. Eques and his team will remain with us at least two nights. They will share sentry duties. Our orders are simple: Hold this redoubt and ensure no one enters or leaves this gorge without proof that he is doing the business of the Empire. Eques, a word?"
The plumed horseman and my master stepped to the side and began to confer. In a moment, the man sent two of his horsemen back into the gorge to move and tend the horses; they'd be staying where we'd camped before taking the redoubt. He ordered another man to find a way to the top of the opposing cliff with a clear view in all directions. About that time, the Skink returned and went into conference with both Eques and Harcos.
I turned in utter confusion to Furge, "I don't understand. Why did Pameten speak to Harcos like that? What's going on?"
Furge's eyebrows went up alarmingly. "You really don't know? Harcos is our Servus, the one responsible for the As of Nemesis. He is also likely to be Optio if the Centurion falls. He has the immediate respect of men even in the Commandant's inner advisors. Your master, Kucuk, is a very important man." I stared, dumbfounded. "And when he admitted that our direction would likely be 'west', it means that there may well be a threat to the Empire itself. If the Legion breaks Winter Over and heads west, very bad things are happening, my friend."
Billen had named the four of us -- himself, me, Pyrkagia and Lavic -- 'The Mice' as we were given quick, light, often-intense and frequently-changing tasks where the other four servants tended to be lifting and carrying things. We Mice were tasked with sorting the new crates. One very obviously contained a dozen very unhappy chickens. Volot and Grubo used some of the crate materials to make a small pen for the nasty little birds who went from outrage to dazed stupidity as soon as grain was scattered.
The next crate held olive oil, grains, legumes and vegetables which we sorted and added to the existing stores. Two more held jugs of beer and loaves of bread. The longest box contained eight bows and dozens of arrows. Another held corded wood for the fire and the last held rags of old cloth and various oils that I recognised as used for cleaning and maintaining weapons. All of us set upon that last crate and began to minister to the soiled and bloody armaments of our masters as they, in turn, set about planning the defence.
Each of the mounted men had a bow already and was proficient in its use. There were, therefore, always two horsemen on duty as archers just as the rebels had been before. Pam, Stelio, Cat and Harcos also took bows; the Skink had his own. Furge, Grubo and Pyrkagia also took ones, eliciting some muttered comments from the newly-arrived men until Harcos had a whispered word with each of them.
A rider was heard coming down the gorge a few hours later, and another just as the afternoon shadows lengthened. Both carried good news. The gorge was the entrance to a long and twisting pass across the ridges that had been unmapped by the Romans. They encountered one fortified encampment about four hours in and destroyed them unawares. A dozen or so escaped through the remainder of the pass, but the lands beyond were plains with low ridges which perfectly matched the strengths of the Roman Legion. The riders seem confident that the Cohorts would have no trouble eliminating the camps and outposts in the days to come.
The tension of the day slowly relented. We Mice set about the messy business of getting four of the chickens ready for dinner as Grubo started some magical-smelling veggie dish. I was extremely intrigued, though, with the seven horsemen. All but two of them watched us Mice closely and almost... hungrily. Several sidled up to one or the other men of the As of Nemesis and held whispered conversations. In most cases, our men simply smiled or shrugged.
I noticed, though, that Billen and Lavic were both going out of their way to walk or bend when a horseman could clearly see them, complete with coquettish smiles and blushes. I finally cornered Lavic when we both wen to use the latrine. "What are you doing?"
He smiled slowly. "Well, you know the rules in camp that we are never to indicate our... special relationships with our masters? That it could lead to demotion or beatings? Wellllllllll, that's not quite as true in a field camp. I mean, everyone knows anyway, but in the fort, it's required to pretend. Out here, no pretending."
I was openly shocked, "You... you would, uh, do THAT with someone other than Cat?" The reprobation in my voice was clear. I was appalled. Billen just laughed.
"Well, with the way that little one with the dimples was looking at my master, I don't think Cat will be lonely. Anyway, we're all men and having a little fun on the side is... expected." He finished and cleaned himself then walked off, making sure that his ass bounced and jiggled with each long step. Harcos came back to camp a few minutes later.
"Can I speak with you, my Aldus?" He smiled and led me a little away between some rocks. In an utterly-appalled voice, I explained what Billen was planning. My master's amused face didn't really change much and I got exasperated. "You don't seem to understand!" I hissed. "He plans to... to bed one of those men! One of those strangers."
Harcos finally 'got it' and the whole area echoed with his guffaws. He finally settled in the face of my seething fury and sat on a stone to bring himself to my eye level, "Oh, my precious jewel, my Dasqas. You never cease to surprise and delight me. Billen is a minx, and utterly insatiable. So is Cat. If there's anyone amongst the horsemen willing to bend over, I'm pretty sure Cat will find him... if Sziklak doesn't get there first. I'm sorry it shocks you, my darling puppy, but all men are dogs and a taste of strange is a welcome diversion. Why... do you want to try a little horseflesh yourself?" He waggled his eyebrows.
"...!" There was a mortally-offended gurgle in there someplace, but nothing approaching words and I saw Harcos was about to burst with laughter.
"I will tell you this," he pulled me, resisting and pushing, into a bear hug, "my precious Kucuk, you are all I need or want. That does not mean that someday you and I might not invite someone to share a night or two, or that you might not want to dally when we're in the field, but I enjoy what we have, my Dasqas, just the two of us." He kissed my head and stood. "But now I want some of that chicken I can smell cooking. Come, let's eat."
The Eques had recalled his sentry from the other side of the gorge when it was clear no one could approach without being seen by sentries or the archers of the redoubt. Pam, Stelio and Pyrkagia huddled in close conference as they ate and all four vanished before the dusk had fully settled. Harcos and I, running on no sleep at all, retired early and without more than a little frisky horseplay before drifting off. My sleep was so profound that I only heard the next day all that happened in the night.
Volot, Stelio and Pyrkagia were brought screamingly into the As of Nemesis that night. The shock, which Volot shared with me in utter secrecy, was how. By rite, a member of the As had to 'break in' each new man or servant. The expectation was that Pameten would fuck Stelio who would in turn mount Pyrkagia as Pam turned his loving attention to my Ox.
Stelio, however, had not only never fucked Pyrkagia, he'd never fucked anyone, ever. Pyrkagia, in turn, had only been fucked twice, and that many, many years earlier. It took a lot of work in prep to get him ready and even in a deep kiss with Stelio, Pyrkagia's reactions were well-broadcast. He came explosively and told Pam he has never expected such a powerful release and the shouts of ecstasy in his thunderous, deep voice echoed everywhere. Pyrkagia then mounted Stelio as Pameten made slow love to my friend the Ox.
The sounds of Pyrkagia's exultant painting of the Flax of Nemesis proved too much for the dimple-cheeked horseman. He practically dragged Cat from the redoubt in his hurry to lose his own anal virginity. Cat was a known master of that art, and the song the young horseman sang among the rocks was delirious by all accounts. Billen, to Lavic's intensely-livid unhappiness, ended up with both of the other randy-and-ready horsemen who sounded more like their mounts than Legionnaires as they took their turns at that amazing ass.
After the watch turned, Lavic got side-lined again when Furge took the very masculine and aromatic Eques into the night where they apparently flip-fucked.... twice by the sound of it. By the hours before dawn, Lavic was in a right state and basically reverse-raped his master doggedly, drawing at least three loads from Handart's cock as he rode the sleepy man like a stallion. There were a lot of guys sitting funny around the cookfire that morning, looking for some position that didn't hurt over-drained balls, abraded cocks or abused assholes.
That next day is one of the first since I had met Harcos that I ever recall as unendurably-tedious. Every weapon was cleaned to within an inch of its life. Furge (after a long nap) taught all of us the art of massage as we used the horsemen and our masters as canvasses to practice upon. The redoubt, with open ends and a rock-covered roof, proved cool and comfortable for a long nap in the afternoon with occasional breaks for one of the boys to help relieve the tension of the warriors. Apparently, a quick fellating or hand-job was acceptable even in the light of day (if done with the minimum of discretion) even for those uninterested in the more-vigorous night-time sports.
Another rider could be heard passing out of the gorge just as our midday rest was complete on the next day. He didn't even slow as he yelled his news. The Cohorts would be returning the following morn having destroyed the rebel positions and scattered the survivors. The horsemen were to return to Winter Over at once. They weren't even slightly happy about that news and Dimples positively sulked that his 'catnap' was to be a one-night event.
With just the eight of the As remaining, something akin to our routine returned. Dinner was a stew, with the bones of the previous day simmering since daybreak, joined by two of their companions and a heavy dough that became dumplings over time. It was delicious. Harcos had first watch that night, along with Say'f.
Harcos smiled wickedly, "Come, Kucuk, and I will show my puppy a very, very nice way to chew on a bone." He settled in his post with clear lines of sight up and down the gorge as well as the approaches on either side. Unbeknownst to me, he'd left his breechclout in the redoubt. Once settled, he pulled me between his legs and under his baltea and tunica. I gasped when confronted with his mammoth member in that dark and wondrous-smelling place.
The rules were simple. My mouth was never to leave his cock. A touch to the head meant that I stopped instantly (a sound or other disruption required concentration) until another told me to resume. A double-rap to the head meant I was to roll away and cower as danger was imminent. By the end of the third hour (each watchman had a single-bowled clepsydra to measure time), I was near to screaming with frustration.
Every time I had approached my master's ultimate communion, a tap would come and I'd freeze in place, not even my tongue was allowed to move. Each time, I could feel his coiled balls, ready to blast their sacred seed into my thirsty mouth, slowly return to their low, heavy sac and I'd start again. And again. And AGAIN. When he finally allowed me to keep going, I felt a rough finger run across my butthole and his sandaled foot caressed the underside of my rampant, throbbing, leaking appendage. I screamed around my master's cock as my own unloaded. The vibration of that howl, he told me later, was perhaps the greatest sensation he'd ever had. He nearly downed me as I tried to holler and swallow at the same time.
I was still hacking a bit when Handart relieved us; Lavic was not in favour that night after the rather... energetic performance on his half-asleep master in the early hours of the day. His punishment was a cold bed for the hours of the second watch. Harcos whispered conspiratorially not to worry. After three boring hours of watch, there was no doubt that Handart would 'forgive' his stunning beauty of a servant in no uncertain terms.
The morning dawned as they are wont to do and the day began. We expected the Cohorts perhaps two hours after sunrise, and we surprised and worriedly-alert when, less than an hour after dawn, we heard a clattering approach from the opposite direction. Every man was armed and ready when the team got close enough to see. A horseman, not one of 'ours' from the previous days, accompanied a team with mules, each pulling a cart. One of the carts was that of Harcos and another was the unmistakable shape of Stelio's. Pameten hissed in a breath.
The horseman confirmed the guess. The As of Nemesis would not even return to Winter Over, though we would pass it by. He organised the mule team; there were three boys and an old man; each mounted a mule and towed the reins of another as they departed up the gorge to load and carry things seized from the rebels. Only when they could no longer be seen did Harcos and the rest of the As drop to one knee and bow deeply. We boys bowed all the way to the ground quickly after, none of us having any idea what was happening.
Harcos addressed the horseman without looking up. "We, the warriors of Rome, bow to Khosashir Arsacid, friend of Rome."
The man smiled and dismounted, pulling my master to his feet to the obvious shock of all present. "I am not my uncle, Harcos. You can tell the difference because Tiridates sits in comfort on a throne and my aching nuts sit upon a dusty mare. Come, warriors, stand and speak. Until I tell you otherwise, I am a simple Eques without an equites. I will tell you what I know... well, that which is safe to speak of under open skies."
All of the warriors seemed deeply worried by his turn of events; the man's genial nature actually seemed to unnerve them more. I turned to Furge who hissed, almost inaudibly, "Silence for your life."
"We shall travel together, warriors of Rome, to Kumayri. In each of your carts is a leather satchel that must reach either my uncle personally or the leader of his personal guard. You are to put it someplace where it is most likely to reach that destination. I asked for and received the assistance of you particular As from the Commandant of the Legion. There is the scent of a pack of Hyenas upon the air." The hyena, the plotter, traitor, scavenger; the creature to be reviled. "I am one of you, warriors of Rome, until we reach that court. This is a serious and important matter, and you will be rewarded for this service."
Harcos voice was gruff. "If you are to be Bu again, you damned well better not insult me by mentioning reward or I'll have your sorry, scrawny butt over my knee and whoop you until you cry like a girl." A gasp ran around the As, but the horseman laughed and grabbed Harcos in an arm-to-arm embrace. Harcos turned.
"The noble man who rode up to us is, indeed, the nephew of Tiridates III, ruler-in-friendship-with-Rome of Armenia. That Khosashir is an advisor-observer from that court to the Legion. He is a nobleman of great stature. However, the gangly bird next to me is also a quiet scoundrel named Bu, the Owl, whom I taught the art of not-dying-right-now many years past. He can be trusted beyond question with anything other than money, boys, wine, women, boys, dice, stories, boys, oaths, secrets, boys and portable items with a value greater than a mug of beer. Did I mention boys?" Seven slack-jawed warriors looked on as the two men tussled good-naturedly.
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Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... Canvas Hell: 31 chapters .../camping/canvas-hell/ Beaux Thibodaux: 22 chapters .../adult-youth/beaux-thibodaux/ The Heathens: 24 chapters .../historical/the-heathens/ Lake Desolation: 16 chapters .../rural/lake-desolation/ Shark Reef: 9 chapters .../adult-youth/shark-reef/ Culberhouse Rules: 6 chapters .../incest/culberhouse-rules/ Raven's Claw: 5 chapters .../authoritarian/ravens-claw/
Special collaboration with Brad Borris: In God's Love (5 installments) .../incest/in-gods-love/