Chapter One

The Beast sprung onto the smooth boulder overlooking the bank of the river, pausing just long enough to survey the land below. With a sudden spry movement, he leaped up and forward in a long arch, sailing downward until he landed with a clattering sound on the gravely dry creek bed.

"Yes," the Beast thought as he made a faint gurgling roar, "he was getting closer to his prey now."

Lifting his nose up in the air, he sniffed for the scent of his quarry, moving his head from side to side; he instantly knew its bearing and much more, precisely calculating his next move while getting more details about it.

"There are two of them!"

In his beast form, all of his senses were more capable, heightened and finely tuned than they were when he was human. He took another couple of sniffs, and then inhaled deeply, his senses on alert and anticipating the pleasure of the kill, an evil smile adorning his feral face.

"And they are kin."

The beast was exultant. "What a pleasant and unexpected surprise," he thought, even as his dark and malevolent mind began to draw plans for how he would dispatch the two, once he reached them. The younger one, he would kill right away, and use his flesh to satiate his desperate hunger. The other one, the older of the two, he would keep alive for a while; a plaything to satiate his "other" appetites.

Yet, as he caught himself thinking of the perversions he would inflict on the soon to be grieving boy, the beast stopped in his tracks momentarily, aghast of the wickedness he was contemplating. Deep within the beast, lived his human self, a lord, which in happier times had ruled the very lands he was now terrorizing, with fairness, justice, and kindness. His wise rule had brought unparalleled prosperity to his subjects, and a series of shrewd agreements with adjacent realms had eliminated the scourge of war. Even the King was said to have feared and admired him back then, such was his might and power before…

How had it come to this? The man trapped within the beast had struggled to stop it from committing any further atrocities, but he had always failed. How long had it been, certainly too many moons to count or wish to remember. The diabolic curse was more terrible than anyone could imagine. If he could have, the man would have wept, but he could not. The beast was in control, and it would remain so until it fed. Until then, the man within was powerless. Worse, with each passing transmutation into the beast the man lost a little of himself to the creature, and became more like it, inheriting its wretched likes, delighting in the ravaging of that which he used to love. Did he even know how to love anymore?

Such was the nature of the dark curse that afflicted him, with no end in sight. A horrible cycle that transmuted the man to beast with the rise of every full moon, he was to remain in such a wretched state until the beast feasted on the flesh of a boy. Only upon the death of an innocent and beautiful male child slaughtered and devoured by the beast, could the man regain some control and revert to his human form, only to begin dreading the rise of the next full moon.

That damned Archon! The desperate and angered man within the beast, cursed the dark sorcerer to no end, but with painful sadness.

***

Archons, they were heirs to the most evil incantations imaginable and seethed with the malice to cast them. They were possessed with an insatiable hunger for power and an unquenchable desire to dominate any and all before them. They were evil personified.

To this day Lord Leto still reproached himself. Why had he not acted sooner, why had he not put all his might at once in the battle and helped to protect the King's realm better? He could remember it all so clearly, even now. He had been holding court when he had first heard of them. It had been a passing reference when he was consulting with the gild of merchants about new trade routes to the Far East. It had sounded like tall tales coming from weary merchants half-delirious with thirst and sun exposure after crossing the merciless Tamataklan desert. They were called by different names at the time, Doom Lords, Nightmare Sorcerers, but Archons was how they called themselves.

If it had only stopped there, but it hadn't, more reports came in, first from distant cities, then nearer, drawing ever closer to the frontier, and then, before he had made any preparations, the Archons and their armies had come upon the kingdom, and the terror had begun. They were like locusts, destroying everything in their path and leaving nothing behind but desolation. With a magic that far surpassed that of the kingdom's most powerful Magus, Tristam.

The might of the Archon army consisted of an innumerable horde of subjugated people, forced to fight on behalf of their cruel masters, or die, their magic, was also paramount and deadly. The frontier outpost to the east had been quickly overrun, but the garrison had managed to resist just long enough to allow him, Lord Leto of Westerfield, to summon some of his trusted nobles and their armies and join with the King to defend the realm.

How many thousands of his fellow countrymen had fought and died in the ensuing battles? They had ambushed the attackers in the mountain passes, and exacted grievous losses upon their ranks, and yet the enemy advanced. In the plains, they had charged against their unprotected infantry at full gallop and decimated countless enemy soldiers, and yet, they still advanced.

It had given them hope for a time that all was not lost. However, it had all come with a terrible price.

After months of all-out battle, the kingdom's armies were spent, attrition taking its toll, bringing it to a shadow of its former strength. Their ranks were composed of worn out soldiers and conscripts, most either too young or too old to be of any use beyond serving as fodder for the attacking hordes. In battle after battle, they had to contend not only with the swashbuckling Archon armies, but also with the Archons themselves, which through their strange and sadistic spells, multiplied the casualties of the lords and King's brave men by ten-fold.

Out of all the vassal lords, Leto was the only one that had come to understand the vile malice that delved in the hearts of the Archons, what they would do and how they would do it, what drove them in their mad pursuit for conquest, and more importantly, how they could be stopped. He also understood what the consequences would be if they failed to halt the onslaught. They were not mere conquerors they were the end of all that he had at heart. He asked to be given the command of all the armies.

The King listened, ever suspicious of Lord Leto's motives, and harboring a longstanding distrust of the most powerful of his vassal lords, considered by many as his equal. The man's allegiance to the throne, the realm, was vital. The King maintained a good, yet guarded relationship with him and his subjects.

Out on the battlefield, ravines had turned into rivers filled with the blood of the combatants. It had seemed that all would be lost for good, that the Archons would roll over the King's realm like a mighty wave over a beached wreck, taking it into the abyss. The King himself had been badly injured and was desperate to save his kingdom.

King Aluser turned to Leto in this most dire moment, placing his trust in the only man who, he feared, could usurp him and his legacy. He named him supreme commander over all the lords and armies.

Leto had accepted the title with pride and gratefulness. What better way was there to gain the trust of the King, now and forever, than to be granted power, and not wield it as an instrument against him? Besides, who would dare to challenge his power after that? For Lord Leto there was far more at risk than the prestige of his new rank, their world own existence was at stake.

After many more sacrifices, thanks to Lord Leto's expert strategies, and keen eye to exploit any weakness in the enemy, the struggle began to turn. Little by little they managed to diminish the might of the Archon armies. The ultimate goal of Leto's maneuvers was not the destruction of the armies but the vanishing of their masters.

Leto had sent surprise raids of armored knights capable of breaking through the enemy formations, breach their defenses, and slay the Archon generals, dwindling their numbers, until finally, there had been only one such abomination left.

He had quickly set to work, knowing that there was not a minute to spare. He split what remained of the armies into three groups. The first group he set to garrison defensive positions that would force the enemy to bleed further in order to overcome them. The second group, he equipped to launch surprise attacks against the enemy's rear and flanks, and then disappear, so that the enemy would have to split his main group to hunt them down. The third group, which Leto commanded personally, was the smallest, but was composed of the best and most committed fighters. They had a single mission, that of killing the last remaining Archon, even if it took every last one of them to accomplish the task.

The strategy worked. The enemy lost thousands upon thousands of soldiers trying to overrun the now well-defended fortified enclaves. Just as Leto had expected, the repeated surprise attacks from the rear tricked the enemy into splitting its forces further. In a knee jerk reaction, they dispatched small expeditions that tried in vain to hunt down the attackers, only to suffer additional casualties. Little by little the advance of the Archon army ground to a halt, and with that, hope was reborn. Everyone could feel it. Thanks to Leto the tide of the war had turned, and here and there were whispers of victory.

In the end, the decisive battle took place at the gates of the capital. The sole remaining Archon, having become wise to Leto's shrewd tactics, had abandoned the many sieges his armies were conducting, and sent them in an all-out forward assault. Nothing could stop them; fortified positions were bypassed, rear action attacks ignored.

The Archon army marched over the land like a swarm of ants, and as they approached the walls that protected the capital, the sky above it grew dark with menacing clouds. Night seemed to have been conjured out of day with a gloom that was only broken by the flash of lightning and the crack of thunder. It was as if the elements of nature had fallen in step with the powers of the sole remaining Archon sorcerer.

Lesser men would have fled, but Leto was no such man. He understood the game was up, and threw all his forces against the Archon armies. He left no reserve behind, no garrison in the walls. Short of victory, the kingdom was doomed.

Expecting to lay siege to the capital, the Archon army was caught utterly unprepared to repel an attack, and soon it appeared that a disorganized rout was about to ensue. From its center, however, the last Archon drew on his terrible powers, and fought back. First, he bewitched many an attacker to lash out against his comrades in arms. Then, he summoned a plague of snakes, which slithered out of the ground in great numbers. The slinky reptiles, black as ebony, and deadly with poison, bit both friend and foe alike, decimating all that stood in their vicinity. The ear piercing shrieks of the dying mixed with the deep rumble of thunder from above to form a hellish symphony of evil.

Despite all this, the Archon kept losing ground, his armies beginning to disintegrate all around him. Leto's men had lost their fear of the foe, and whatever the manner of the evil that was cast against them, they fought on, determined to win, unwavering in the task to kill every enemy fighter in their path. Leto had spearheaded the final attack against the Archon himself.

Oh, how he regretted that now: knowing at the same time that there had been no alternative.

Having slain the Archon's protective guard, he thrust the spear into the sorcerer's wretched chest, and delighted in the agonizing sounds his foe made as a gush of foul smelling dark blood spurted from his wound.

Was that it, had he won the war?

Yes, the war was won, but the Archon had unleashed one last spell upon Lord Leto, the most terrible and diabolically crafted incantation ever. The two stared at each other, as the Archon died. No words were ever exchanged, but Leto knew in that instant that a dreadful curse had befallen him.

The Archon lord had peered into Lord Leto's soul as if he had stood naked in front of him. In those few seconds, the Archon studied him, ascertained him, discovering his deep and sincere love of children and predilection for the carnal pleasures to be had with young handsome and supple boys. In an instant, the Archon spun an incantation pregnant with an evil so complete and so deep that nothing but death itself could ever release its grip. "That which you love, thou shalt forevermore thirst to destroy".

From that day on, Lord Leto had lived this nightmare, and even worse, he was gradually becoming the nightmare itself.

He was, it appeared, to be eternally cursed. From that fateful moment on, he had been forced to destroy and kill that which he had in life loved the most: children and more particularly boys.

Even now, he was giving hunt to two of them. The scent of the two preys said it all. They were both terrified, scared of him, the beast; that used to be Lord Leto.

A fresh pang of deep hurt washed over Leto's soul. In years past, he would have gladly given refuge to any child, clothed and fed him, provided for all his needs; how tirelessly he had labored to improve those young lives, and now…

In happier times, he had sponsored and then offered considerable financial patronage to countless learning institutions within his lands to teach children who had shown an aptitude for the sciences or the arts. The wisdom of his venture was soon apparent to all as waves of freshly minted scribes, engineers, and artists emanated from these institutions and soon made not only the cities under his control, but the entire kingdom, well-known and respected throughout the known world. Nearby kingdoms were impressed with the richness, resourcefulness, and wisdom of King Aluser, with very few foreigners really knowing Lord Leto had been behind such policies and prosperity. They sought to make trade with the kingdom, and the resulting activity stimulated commerce and enriched the inhabitants far more than any conquest by war ever could.

Throughout the land, Lord Leto became revered, and appreciated; even loved by many, but feared and envied by some, including the King.

Some remained skeptical of his success, others, saw intelligence and good judgment, but few knew the truth.

It was easy to dismiss, but the reality had been that Lord Leto could never fail to see the amazing potential contained within each and every child, and even more important, he had never failed to act on such visions. Children, boys, were, he thought, the quintessential creatures of god.

So inspired had he been by this notion that he had encouraged many churches to organize boy's choirs to elate those attending the worshiping services, and imbue the audience with a sense of wonderment worthy of the contemplation of the magnificence of the creator.

Boylove had been a tradition of the realm for centuries, favored by the nobility but also enjoyed among the common people. Under his influence it had flourished and spread well beyond the realm's borders.

Lord Leto had shown this preference early on. He was always surrounded by the most beautiful boys who served him as pages or squires, and he had his own choir that sung for him every evening. He had constituted a harem of one hundred boys for his enjoyment. It was called Elysium, boys were sent to his service by his vassals and liege lords according to the custom and by all those who sought his benevolence and support, including merchants and foreigners. Its magnificence set a trend among the society with every person of standing needing a pretty boy by his side to enhance his status. It was a very desirable position for the boys, and an honor for their families.

***

But now…

Every time the beast took control of him, he sought out the very thing he loved, to destroy it in the most horrific manner possible: to kill it, to feast upon it, and rape it thoroughly and utterly. How many had he … done already?

The count was too high to remember, and too terrible to track. The broken memories filtered by the deranged and beastly mind that overtook him were too strange and incongruous to make sense of, and too terrible to delve upon. It was an endless sequence of ghastly scenes, of high-pitched shrieks cut short by the powerful and merciless fangs of the beast, of small and lithe bodies torn and ripped apart by the swing of razor-sharp claws.

His first transformation had not happened for many weeks after that fateful moment. By then, the victory celebrations had died down, and everyone was busy trying to return to a normal life. The arrival of the beast had been shocking and terrifying for Lord Leto. The actions that the monster within performed were too horrifying to believe, even after witnessing the aftermath, he doubted the reality of his role and questioned his own sanity. He was condemned to live in a schizophrenic state from that moment onward.

Quiet whispers quickly spread throughout the palace. The tales of a deranged beastly apparition decimating Lord Leto's boy harem seemed intensely surreal. There were comments about the uncanny similarity between said beast and Lord Leto himself: malicious.

Nothing was said to his face, but soon thereafter, he began to notice some of his courtesans suddenly leaving his court. After the transformation occurred a second time and his harem was once again culled, the absences multiplied. Only those truly loyal to him remained by his side, although as the true magnitude of the horror that afflicted him became known, their demeanor changed.

Gone were the days of profound respect and unshakable confidence in their lord. Instead, there was trepidation written on their faces; often fear, and occasionally pity.

Before long, a new kind of courtesan replenished the depleted ranks in Lord Leto's court. These were individuals of ill repute and questionable morals, hardened by the atrocities of the recently completed war, and drawn to the court not by loyalty or fealty to its lord, but by the ample material gains and privileges it brought.

These men, devoid of scruples, had no qualms in aiding the quenching of the beast's atrocious cravings, nor on fetching innocent boys to meet their doom, not as long as the payment for their wicked doings was extravagant. Leto himself began to change and adapt to his two faced personality. Accepting his new vile other self, letting it infuse and inspire his acts and behavior, finding new debauched pleasures unknown to him in his previous life. Of course, at first, he fought them, used all his wealth and power to try to find a cure. Secrecy was paramount in all those actions, lest he saw his lordship be taken from him. He thought of taking his own life but relented, perhaps due to the curse itself, and finally accepted impossible compromises to feed and appease the beast inhabiting and sharing his body. His new entourage used all the available ploys at its disposal to further that dangerous and reprehensible inclination. He soon was captive of a vicious circle partly of his own doing that brought him slowly but surely very close to hell.

The Beast appeared to be gone from Leto's palace for now, but in the months and years that followed boys and every parent were warned of a Beast roaming the woods around Westerfield castle and of sinister doings in the castle itself. Lord leto's name was never pronounced but was in every thought. Soon new rumors replaced the old ones.

And they were all true, every last gruesome bit of them.

***

The handsome face and impressive and elegant figure of Lord Leto were erased when the curse transmuted him into his beastly self. Although the humanoid shape remained after the transformation, it had nothing in common with what it had been before.

The beast was taller, perhaps by a head, but more importantly, his girth and musculature gave the creature an appearance of inordinate strength and agility, his body rippled with muscle and his chest, massive and solidly built, bespoke of unending stamina. His limbs, thick with muscle and infused with unnatural strength, were ended with twin sets of terrifying claws, which seemed, and were, capable of ripping a fully-grown man in half.

It was his face however, that frightened his victims the most. When transformed, his appearance was that of an animal, half wolf, half nightmare. Long black whiskers protruded from a stubby snout that ended in a pinkish nose, capable of getting from a whiff in the air even the barest trace of his prey's scent: boys. It was hiding two set of fangs able to break the bones and tear the flesh effortlessly and of which only two razor sharp tusks protruded.

Once that olfactory sensor had been triggered, an impulse more powerful than any other set the beast in motion. His outstanding night vision guided him through the thickest bush in the forest, and his exceptional hearing directed him forth whenever the nose faltered him. No prey really stood a chance once these animal instincts took over.

Some boys had been clever enough to pose an amusing challenge. Some trying to hide their scent in the manure of cattle, others had attempted to hide their tracks by swimming in the river. None had succeeded in the end, but the chase had been more gratifying, amusing even, and helped to satiate the desire that burned within the beast.

The beast made a loud snarl and lunged forward toward the spot where his senses told him the boys were. It was almost as if he could already see his victims to be, taste them even. His appetite was whipped into a frenzy, and even as he leaped from stump to rock and from rock to grass, the beast began to drool.

Close, he was very close. He peaked over a hedge, and he saw them. Although it was the first time he was setting eyes on the two, his senses had already drawn an almost complete picture of them. Only a few details had remained unknown until this moment.

There were indeed two boys. The older of the two, perhaps twelve, was helping the younger one who was limping. They were struggling to put as much distance between them and the castle as fast as they could, and doing a miserable job of it. Lord Leto wondered, if one of his unscrupulous accomplices had purposely maimed the boy to lower the chances of escape? If that was the case, he would make his displeasure known, however this was not the time to think about that, now was the time to feast.

In a single leap, which followed a long arch, the beast charged towards the boys while letting out an otherworldly howl. The two boys, their faces transfixed with terror, looked right at the beast. The field, bathed in pale silvery moonlight, allowed them both to see their nightmare approach, a nightmare for which there would be no waking.

Even in the few last moments before reaching them, Lord Leto congratulated himself on his keen senses, for they had once again proven right. The look of the boys betrayed their kinship. Their heads, both covered with raven hair, blacker than the night itself, framing perfectly formed faces, both beautiful and harmonious with alabaster skin. Their eyes were opened wide and paralyzed with fright, clear and crystalline. Inside their chests, their hearts were pounding at full speed.

The beast could not help but to think, so alive, and yet so dead.

There, at the edge of the forest, they were both going to meet their end. Their frightened eyes, both pairs fixated on him, spoke loudly of that foreknowledge. Their bodies were now shivering and overcome with fear, and in the case of the little one, soiled with an involuntary dribble of urine; they were going to die, and die in a terrible manner.

The beast took another leap forward cutting the distance to his pretty and supple prey by half. A second later, he was right upon them, between them in fact, letting out a low growl of satisfaction at having reached his quarry.

Despite the gloom of night, he could now observe every little detail that the boys had to offer. The fact that one of the boy's feet was bare, the sandal that should have been there, lost to the futile and frantic effort to get away, the color of their tunics; hunter green for the older boy, a dirty dun color for the little one. More importantly to the beast, he could appreciate the outline of their lithe bodies, and the tiny bulge of their fear-shriveled scrotum. Oh yes, the beast thought, he would see to that, wouldn't he? Their sweet scent reeking of fear was overpowering.

A wave of pity coursed through Leto's soul; get away from them his inner voice said. The beast was a monster, a destroyer of boys, too powerful to fight, the dammed curse trapping him into an inexorable course of action. Worse yet, with each victim, with each feeding, beast and man were becoming entwined, and would, Leto knew this somehow, soon become one and the same, forever. The Beast and its associated curse made his hidden and worse repressed instincts thrive and bloom.

Inspired and pulsating with lust and sadism he reached the younger boy while with a single swipe of his other arm, he sent the older one careening out of control to the ground, half stunned. Keeping him pinned under a heavily clawed foot.

His youngest victim's face was frozen in a grimace of sheer terror as he was left to face the horror of the beast alone. Did he really know his life was over?

The beast closed his claw-studded hand around the youth's neck, and began lifting him up. The little boy immediately grasped the claw with both his tiny hands, his mouth open in a silent scream as terror froze his lungs in place.

The beast gave out a light snarl as the feet of the boy lost contact with the ground, swinging in wide arches in a futile effort to find a footing. Even as the boy struggled, the beast used one of his sharp claws to rip the tunic from the boy's body, leaving him naked. The boy's smooth, so white and perfect skin, glistened in the dim moonlight; it was a sight that only served to amplify the beasts already raging lust for boy flesh, and bring Leto, trapped within, to utter desperation.

It was time for the beast to feast.

Of course, the boy was not going to get off that easy. This would not be a mercy kill, far from it. Bringing the writhing body closer to him, and cocking his wrists so that the boy was facing away from him, the beast began to lower the boy onto its erect and pulsating penis, a huge slightly curved and throbbing member with a hardened ridge on its end that could pierce any obstacle. Sure to bring death to whoever it penetrates, a weapon in its own right.

He was going to use it on the child. Even the feel of the boy's supple inner thighs against his cock sent shudders of sexual pleasure through his being. "YES!" this is what he wanted, a desperate child, to rape, to murder, to devour.

Soon the blunt head of the beast's cock was pressing against the boy's pristine and immature anus. The beast lowered the boy a bit more, bringing more and more pressure to rest between his legs. The boy hollered as the precum slicked pulsating rod of flesh, sought entry into his innards. The boy fought bravely, but in the end, he had no chance, his cry of terror shattering the night.

The boy's penetration was marked with a wailing shriek of pain and desperation, as he began to be raped for the first and last time of his short life. His agony had just started.

The beast grasped the boy with both hands, and drove him downward, forcing further impalement onto his member, which aroused by the tight fit of the orifice, seemed to pulsate, throb powerfully, almost like a pneumatic drill.

Pulse by pulse, the boy was driven lower, each tiny inch downward marked by increasingly desperate short wails. Blood dripping down his legs as his anatomy was slowly ripped apart from the inside with excruciating pain. The beast, breathed heavily, as he enjoyed the throes of his murderous rape, his cock, over a foot long, hard and leaking, straining his pleasure centers almost to the breaking point.

The beast smirks and snarls, and in one final lunge enters the boy, forcing his engorged penis into the tight, immature opening, causing mortal damage and excruciating pain. More screams disrupt the quiet of the surrounding forest, but there is none to hear. A few thrusts of his spear like member are enough to bring him to orgasm, the boy already dead in his arms.

At the same time, he starts to feed, tearing some tender flesh from the arm and shoulder. He feels thirsty for blood. Disengaging his cock from the boy's shredded hole, he lifts the lifeless body above his snout and drinks the flowing red hot juices. Still not satiated he puts his snout to the gaping wound and sucks up what is left of them. Ready now for more meaty bites he holds the slight body upside down and plunges his fangs in the tender buttocks and slender thighs, the parts he prefers, gulping down the tasty morsels still one foot on the other boy's back to hold him in place, drenched in his younger brother's blood.

Having feasted on the smaller one, the bigger boy again catches his interest. "Time for some fun," he says in a deep voice and removes his foot.

The boy at first doesn't move, and then suddenly springs forward in a last, desperate effort to escape his fate. The Beast is upon him in an instant, its claws digging into the tender flesh, the tunic ripped from his body. He is held trembling in the Beast's embrace who licks the blood from his face.

"Your kin tasted so good," he slurs. "How will you taste? About the same I suppose," he tells the boy, all the while rubbing his hard member on the delicate skin, readying for the entry.

This time he'll take care not to tear the flesh, delighting in the child's cries. He wants this to last and does not fully enter the boy, just enough to inflict pain for the lad and enjoyment for himself. More will come at the end. As he takes his pleasure, he nibbles at the boy's neck breaking the skin and mixing the two boys' blood.

His thrusts accelerate and then slow down for over thirty minutes as he savors the pretty boy, whose cries diminish to become moans of pain and misery. Then the Beast withdraws from the gaping hole, oozing blood, plunging his snout for a few licks. Pulling back, he scrutinizes the child's features, listens for his shallow breath.

"Go to your kin," he finally murmurs in the boy's ear, plunging his member to the hilt in the boy's entrails, resuming his thrusts and finally exploding in the dying body. He did not wait for the boy's death to feast again on the innocent flesh, bathing himself in his victim's blood, delighting in the small body shudders. He gorges himself in an orgy of meat and flesh, leaving only bones and viscera from the two little bodies.

Once done, he gives a shout that resonates in the forest and brings his escort running to his side, their horses wary of the creature in their midst.

"Take the edible meat if any is left, get rid of the carcasses and collect the heads, as usual," he orders. "I won't need my horse; I'll run to the castle by myself," then he disappears into the night.

Briskly at first, and then quickly moving at full tilt, he runs in the night, his sight and senses making him one with his surroundings, detecting every living creature that crosses his path. It is exhilarating, but these heightened sensations slowly fade.

He becomes a man again on reaching the castle. He had washed most of the blood in a creek on the way, letting the wind of his travels dry him as he ran joyfully through the woods. Boys! Blood! While the encounter was brief, it had been intense, it had brought him two more victims this night, a rare occurrence, and he was sated and content.

***

On arriving at Westerfield Castle, Lord Leto went to his apartments using a secret passage known to no one but himself. Rand and Focker, his two favorite pages, were peacefully sleeping in his bed. He woke them up and asked Rand to prepare a bath while he took his pleasure with the other boy. His hunger for raw flesh was satiated for the moment but the pleasures of sex were always roused on such nights. The boys complied; they had served their lord for several months now and knew how to please him.

They were both beautiful boys. Rand the oldest by a year was from the south with dark hair, green eyes and suntanned skin, Focker was from the north with long light blond flowing hair, steel blue eyes, and clear skin. They made for a stunning contrast when side-by-side. As usual when serving him in his apartments they were naked except for light gold metal armbands and silver ankle bracelets. The twelve and thirteen year olds had lean and graceful bodies and well-rounded bottoms.

His pages were chosen from his harem constituted of the most exquisite boys the country had to offer, they were often sons of his liege lords or important families wanting to gain his benevolence or support, at his disposal at all times. All were to share his bed at least once. He lived in a kingdom where boys were considered as delicacies by all the noble families. Imitated by all those with the means to obtain them. Every person of standing needed a pretty boy at his service to enhance his status and to have a son enrolled in Elysium was an honor no one could refuse.

He had been always gentle and affectionate with the boys in his service; those, of course, even to this day he never ate or killed, if only because of their noble status and more importantly because he cared for them, he had truly loved many of them over the years.

During the first and second emergence of the Beast when he did cull his harem some of his dearest boys had been killed. He had been terribly hurt, desperate and had had to resort to terrible extremes to ensure that it would never happen again. He had decided to sacrifice in secret unknown, and poor urchin boys to satiate the Beast's needs. He had the obligation to preserve the Elysium and his reputation, too much was at stake, the Beast's origins had to be hidden at all cost. At that time he still hoped a cure would be found and that he would be cleansed of these evil deeds.

His attitude had started to change these last few months, notably just before and after the Beast transmutation. Little Focker's rump, presented to him at this moment, seemed like it would be perfect for a late dinner. Those thoughts occurred to him now more and more often, he had never acted on them yet, on the other hand, he was certainly more irascible, demanding, his lovemaking had become rough, almost brutal sometimes. But it was nothing compared to what happened to the nameless children brought to him in secret.

As time passed and the creature influence grew, as the two souls were slowly merged, he felt the need to create a new domain he called the Dark Harem within the bowels of the castle, a prison from which no boy came out alive except as prey for a hunt, and those were the lucky ones. Lately, the fate of the many boys that died there was far worse… those that were brought to him by his most trusted men did not all meet their fate in the claws of the Beast. They were bought, captured outside of the Kingdom, or taken from orphanages, children who would not be missed by anyone. Lately there were other instances, when a lovely lad crossed his path, and who was not readily available, he would mysteriously disappear, not to be found ever again. They were rare exceptions though, too many rumors already circulated in the towns and castles and it was clear that boys that might catch his eye, were often nowhere to be seen when he came to visit.

The man Leto was in his way as impressive as the Beast. Towering at six feet six inches [2 m] with a fit and strong body, he moved with elegance and pride. He had a face that was charming and determined at the same time, with blue-gray eyes that shone with intelligence.

The boy squirmed under him and gave a squeal as his nine-inch [23 cm] cock entered him, he was well used to it now though, and Leto started pounding his ass without restraint, no lube needed. Pain had to be part of the act. He had also taken the habit of biting the boys on every fleshy morsel, being careful not to break the skin and leave marks, but enough to hurt. The curse was winning, the man's behavior becoming very much like the creature's and once in the Dark Harem getting worse: human cruelty far exceeding the beast's fast, if monstrous, dispatch of its victims.

A few minutes later, Rand announced the bath was ready, and Leto lifted the boy still on his cock to continue in the warm water, inviting Rand to join them. It lasted for an hour, the strong man enjoying both boys in every way he could imagine. He did come in the end, down Rand's throat, back in the large bed. The need to sleep came at last and he fell in a deep slumber lying over both boys.

***

The next morning a rested Lord Leto was taking his breakfast surrounded by his pages and servants, all boys except for the two guards at the door. It was extravagant as everything else in the lord's life was a multitude of different kinds of breads and pastries, juices of exotic fruits, cheeses from far off countries, and all manner of succulent dishes. It was shared with the pages who appreciated the honor but were now all weary of his changing moods and who knew by experience of his bouts of anger and sometimes cruelty. His entourage was particularly cautious on the days following the full moon. It was the time when everything was possible, the worst of it, of course. None of them had really known the benevolent and loving man of years past.

A man sent by Melchior, his factotum in the Dark Harem and for all other sinister activities brought him a delicacy that he never shared. Meat from the previous night's hunt, there had been few leftovers. It had become a tradition, started by a peculiar idea: The consumption of boy meat was supposed to appease the beast inside and delay its appearance or diminish his savagery. On the contrary, though, it had no effect, and had now become a welcome treat, a way of keeping the hunt alive.

As the breakfast was ending and he was tempted to delve into more carnal pleasures, having seated on his knees one of the young servants to better see he he was worthy of his attention, a messenger was announced.

It was a letter from King Aluser. His presence was required at the court. No reason was given, only that it was urgent and of the utmost importance.

"Pages, we are leaving for the capital, the King is awaiting us. Tell the chamberlain to meet with me and wait for my orders. Prepare our baggage, we leave in the afternoon!" He kissed the boy on his lap, pulling down his pants, and letting his own majestic rod out of his robes. "You are very much to my taste, boy. I'll be kind with you since it is your first time with me." He put some butter on his fingers and coated himself generously then impaled the boy on his standing tool, his buttered hand on the child's mouth to silence a cry. It was improbable that, as pretty as he was, the lad was a virgin but still Leto was of no ordinary size. It lasted only a few minutes, the lord had other business to attend to.

***

He departed in the afternoon with all of his impressive retinue, two hundred wagons, and two thousand men not counting the ten thousand soldiers following not far behind with a few hundred hundred men, women and boys trailing behind, the servants, cooks and whores always found with an army. Three days later upon his arrival in the capital Soonlure he sent a message to the King saying he would visit him after getting refreshed and rested in his own palace, Winterfield.

He was received by the King a few hours later in the throne room that was filled by the members of the court who wanted to see the Lord turned monster. It would be his first appearance there in seven years.

Upon his entrance one could wonder, "Who was the king, and who was the lord." Leto's stature and presence surrounded by his knights, squires, and pages all dressed in the best and richest garments took center stage. The young boys that stood by his side were of the most exquisite beauty and adorned with the most evocative garments putting their light frames and attributes in full sight.

He was told by the King himself that there had been an attack in the south; the Vale of Destiny was occupied by an unknown force.

If he accepted the King's wish, he was to take the command of the kingdom's army who with the concourse of his own legions were to eradicate the menace.

It was a command insisted the King; he was his best General.

A smile formed on Leto's lips. He felt the tension all around him, the restlessness of the King's advisers, and the worried looks on everyone's faces. What captured his attention, and he could not resist lingering, was the King's own pages and the boys gathered around, ready to assist with any needs the King might have. He knew he was feared but there was something else, the situation was probably more serious than what had been stated, there was a particular unease in the throne room.

"If it is a command how can I refuse, my King, let me return to my palace, consult my men; then in two hours' time, come to my quarters in Winterfield palace to confer with me. I will not let you or the kingdom be put at risk, be sure of that," he said, having the King come to him was a clear way to assert who was in need of the other.

As he left, two fair-haired boys entered; the assembled nobles parting to let them pass. It was impossible to tell one from the other, they were stunning identical twins. Leto was smitten at once imagining what delights they might bring him. The princes… he heard murmuring all around him. He turned to the King whose face had paled.

"I see why you never presented them to me, my King; you wanted them all for yourself. Be sure to bring them with you when you come to visit, I want to see if their wits match their beauty."

***

Leto's own palace in the capital, Belvoir, was almost as magnificent and imposing as the royal castle and more than enough to lodge him and all of his large retinue. He had brought twenty of his pages taken from his harem. They would be with him during the campaign. Rand and Focker his favorites for the moment were among them, of course. Melchior had also secured other boys to satisfy his darker needs. Those were kept well away from sight, traveling in closed wagons and brought to the palace underground in all secrecy.

While waiting for the King, he conferred with his knights, organized his troops that were to camp on the outskirts of the city, and sent men ahead to seek out information. He had his cooks prepare refreshments and delicacies for his guests.

***

The King and the princes were announced as expected. Leto's first impression was soon confirmed, the boys were indeed exceptional, his mind already conjuring images of the pleasures he could obtain from their perfect forms and darker ones of the torments he would like to inflict on their bodies and spirits.

They were fair-haired with flawless skin and piercing green eyes, with lovely features and bright smiles. Their lean bodies, perfectly proportioned, their moves full of grace, their expressions and attitude implying wit and intelligence. Even the Beast would think twice before ravaging these two, but what bliss to be had at the same time. He knew they were just eleven, the perfect age and that he wanted them more than he had ever wanted any other boy. He was surprised to see them dressed in virginal white robes, such simple and alluring clothes; some flesh above the knee was on show and their appearance was embellished by the use of a few decorations and jewels, as was the fashion of the period. Their father knew of his tastes and reputation, he should have been hiding them; as he had done until this day, and not parading them that way. Or perhaps it meant that he was desperate enough to risk everything, ready to offer him whatever he wanted.

He would require that at least one of them, the younger by a few minutes, had to accompany him on this campaign, as was his due.

He was very attentive of the King's expression when he made his demand.

"Are you sure, he is still very young," said the King, frowning slightly.

"He is old enough! All my pages come with me, he will have good company," Leto replied soothingly.

The King replied, "Be kind to him. He is still an innocent; he has no knowledge of a man's lust."

"Of a man perhaps but he can't be a total innocent with all those charming pages and squires running around the Royal Palace. But trust me…" Leto said, "You know I love my boys…"

He was surprised. He never thought it would be so easy. Once again, given his reputation, he expected a stiff resistance from the King. Tradition spoke for him. He had the right to ask for the boy to accompany him, as a page or squire, but still… this was peculiar.

Soon, however, his lust for the boy assuaged his doubts and they were forgotten.

He knew he could never satiate his darkest urges with the prince, but he could still use and abuse him without causing lasting physical damage. Although, it is true on a campaign accidents do happen…

Still he was not satisfied, what he really wanted was to have them both, such a delectation it would be. Except the King would never allow it, they were his only heirs; at least one had to be kept safe by his side, the eldest.

Leto only half listened to what was said during their meeting, obsessed by the marvelous twin boys standing beside their father, thinking only of touching them, ravaging them.

Not much was known of the menace; they desperately needed more intelligence. The Vale constituted an important trade route with the southern part of the continent. It was accessible through only two passes, surrounded by unpractical mountains, and no one had come from or passed through either of them for two weeks now. The local lords had sent troops to investigate but they had been annihilated.

The King was sending ten thousand men; Leto would bring ten thousand more, with twice that number in reserve, ready to march – How simple it would be for him to take the King's place and seize the boys – Lord Leto couldn't keep his mind focused on the campaign ahead, these two beautiful creatures were what filled his mind. He knew he could not do that, despite all his might, he knew that all would turn against him. He might win in the end but this betrayal would never bring him peace, he could reign only by fear.

***

As soon as the King left with the princes, Leto went to his Dark Harem, underground in the palace. Twenty boys awaited there whose only purpose was to die to please the lord, one or sometimes two at a time upon his whim. Fifty more had been left behind at Westerfield Castle.

Some had joined the harem a few days ago; some had survived a few months already. There was no rhyme or reason to who survived and who was dispatched quickly. It was just the whim of their master, who took much pleasure at sparing a few to make them suffer longer: the poor boys not knowing when their time would come. They were aged nine to thirteen, were most appealing to the eye, and came from all over the kingdom and even beyond, sometimes with unusual features, skin or hair color.

Leto made his choice, the fairest one who evoked the princes who had just left. The boy was named Lukas. He came from an orphanage in the north, bought with five others now gone.

As usual, he also took three more lads who would watch and assist. They knew the proceedings, and that they were, most likely, the lucky ones this time. It started always the same, first the sex, brutal and relentless, then the pain in every imaginable way their master found amusing. It could last minutes, hours, and sometime days; finally death would come almost as a reward.

The Beast was winning in this place, and in those moments, the man that had been Leto was only a shadow. It had taken years, but slowly, Leto's tastes and desires had turned dark and cruel, only more civilized and creative than those unleashed when the Beast came on him. One could even think that the Beast was more merciful, it took but a night, often only a few hours, for those victims to suffer and mere minutes to succumb. Here in the Dark Harem it could take days of agony with the knowledge that death was waiting at the end, the tortures inflicted would be of the mind and the flesh, endless, mindless games.

Leto was smiling, the boy was trembling, the lord took off his light tunic and took him to the large bed that occupied the center of the chamber of death. The three other boys, without a word, undressed and joined them ready to serve in any way, wanting to live even for just some more days or hours and at any cost. The room was decorated all in black, with black sheets on the bed. Three braziers and a large chimney illuminated the room, the flames reflected in the eyes of Leto's previous victims. The very lifelike heads of close to fifty boys lined the walls watching with unflinching interest the dark proceedings: a small part of his collection.

***

Melchior, outside the chamber hid a smile. He was a small man with a nondescript face, the kind no one remembered, which was perfect for his ominous deeds. His secret project had taken years, but now all was in place. It would not be long before Leto turned against the King and by doing so destroyed the kingdom of Alsoon, or perhaps the King would be the one to provoke his lord. He had accepted Leto's demand but he could still change his mind. The Beast was gaining ground; soon Leto would be incapable of restraining his perverted instincts and would want both princes. Once those events were in motion, nothing could stop them. He would take the offered one first, wreck the boy, and then want the other.

The Archons were gone and most of their power had vanished, but not all and they had allies now in the Vale, ready to take the kingdom.

***

Melchior was not the only one scheming, in a secret chamber, the King was conferring with the Magus Tristam and his closest advisers; his two sons were also present.

"Can you assure me, that no harm will come to him?" asked the King.

"No physical harm will be possible for the next two months," answered Tristam with an assured smile, he looked no more than fifty years old but was probably close to one hundred. "The mind is another matter. He will see and experience things no child his age should be exposed to."

"I see," the King was hesitant.

"It is our only chance of reversing the curse and bringing Lord Leto back to our side. A slim chance I agree, but also the only one that can preserve the kingdom." The Magus voice was deep and penetrating. "If he turned against you, it would be the end: all that was accomplished before gone. I fought the Archons by his side; he was a formidable foe for them, as he would be for us. He is worth our efforts; we don't really have any other alternative."

"Show me," said the King.

"William, give me your hand. We have done it already. You know it will hurt some at first but not for long." His voice had become gentle and peaceful; there was a genuine affection for the prince in it.

The boy stepped forward leaving his father and brother's side a determined expression on his face.

"I am ready, I am not afraid!" he said, placing his small and slender hand on the marble table.

The Magi unsheathed a short sword from under his multicolored coat and in one move severed the hand from the arm at the wrist, blood gushing.

The boy let out a small gasp and flexed his knees from the shock. The audience reacted with shouts, withdrawing in horror at the blatant cruelty. A few seconds later, the blood stopped and the stump started to change form. A new hand was slowly taking the place of the severed one. At the same time, that one seemed to be dissolving and was soon gone.

"That is the first miracle," exclaimed Tristam, "the second one will be the boy himself!"

Chapter Two

NOTE: The goriest chapter I've ever done and probably there will be none like it later. I simply hope it is not gratuitous and rather character and plot driven. For PZA I wrote a noticeably watered down version of this chapter. If you want to read the much harder complete version, it is available with the illustrations on 3Dboys or Shotachan boards.

As soon as he entered the Dark Harem, Leto's schizophrenic nature took over and he left all his remnants of humanity at the door. In the chamber of horrors, under the dead gaze of the multiple pairs of eyes of his collection, the Lord's body was shimmering. It happened more and more often now when the Beast's instincts merged with his perverted human intelligence and imagination; this is when a ghostly image of the creature would superimpose itself over the man's body and features.

Poor Lukas was trembling no more; he was shaking in pain. Every hole had been invaded and used in the most brutal manner without pause or care, the Beast's intentions, besides the pleasures of sex, being to hurt. He was bleeding from a multitude of bites scattered all over his body, some flesh had even been torn off. He knew he was doomed, but still feared what was to come before the end.

Leto was exulting, empowered by the Beast's presence within. He loved that feeling of ultimate power it brought. The looks of fear and despair of the lovely boys around him, whose only purpose was to bring him satisfaction through any means at his disposal, their terror, pain, and concluding death, were pure nectar. He was lapping blood from one of his last bites near the boy's jugular, always being careful not to give a lethal wound to his chosen victim and robbing himself of a more fitting, amusing death. These dark passions were taking over, and they were definitely winning. He was addicted, and he enjoyed them more and more, he wanted, needed them to last. The man, Leto, had lost.

He was just getting started, his large cock embedded to the hilt in the boy's equally bleeding ass. After removing his member he moved back to get a better view of his work so far. He turned over the smooth and lithe body at his mercy. The boy's eyes were still very much alert, he was holding his breath, not quite sure what to expect.

Leto's chosen acolytes, silent, with stern looks, trying not to catch their master's gaze or attention, waited, ready to obey his orders.

After playing with the body for a few moments, lifting a leg or arm, bending and stretching the head, caressing a thigh, testing the battered holes, mouth, and ass with a few fingers. Leto came to a decision.

"Give me the gag," he ordered.

He didn't like to be disturbed by a boy's screams while having his fun.

There were different types of victims. Some were almost at once catatonic and not quite fun. Others, on the contrary were resilient and put up a fight almost to the end, those were priceless. He wondered what it would be for little Lukas.

Once the gag was in place and he was free again to do as he wished without restraint or distraction, he completed this task by dislocating the boy's shoulders one after the other, even better now. Lukas fainted from the pain but the Lord knew how to bring him back, right away, by inflicting more pain. Soon enough, his eyes opened again and Leto kissed them in mock affection.

"Let's fuck again," he said with a grin.

The boy was on his back, his arms by his side, useless. Leto caressed the boy's cock and balls with his right thumb until it started to change into one of the Beast's claws. That recent occurrence had happened for the first time a few months ago; it rightfully impressed and terrified the boys present. With a swift stroke, he opened the sac, revealing the small testicles; it was almost painless. Then he removed them and put them in a bowl that one of the acolytes presented to him.

"My appetizers, for later," he said to the boy's ear with a smirk as he put his cock in the boy's cunt and pushed.

"Let's see how his cunt feels!"

He pushed again and had his cock soon surrounded by the boy's flesh and blood, indiscriminate of the damage it caused. He then started to fuck in earnest, enjoying the boy's expressions of pain and distress, his shallow breath.

One hour and many other torments later, Leto had had enough of his game. It had wreaked havoc on the boy's body with bleeding wounds in many areas. He pulled out his bloody rod from the boy's mouth, not as hardened as the Beast's, but still unnaturally resilient, and contemplated his 'oeuvre'.

"What a waste you are, boy!" he said to the barely conscious boy. "You make me hungry."

He signaled one of the boys to bring him the bowl and as the claw formed again, he pricked both testicles onto it, and then brought the improvised skewer to the nearest brazier, letting them sizzle for a few moments.

"Let's be civilized and not eat them raw," he said laughing, he then slipped the two hot and crisp little testicles into his mouth to masticate and savor them as the greatest delicacies. "Tastes good, indeed, can't deny that. Too bad there's only two," he added, having a feel of his nearest acolyte's crotch and expressing his envy for more. "Would you three give me yours? It doesn't hurt much, I can tell you." The three acolytes knew such demands could not be refused. The claw reappeared and he traced lines on the acolytes sacs, sometimes drawing blood but it was only a cruel game, he had no intention of going further. "Well some other time perhaps," he said with regret. "I bet you would not be of help anymore, and it is Lukas we are taking care of today."

He thought then that his blood splattered body and still erect cock required some attention. "Boys," he said to the acolytes. "Come wash me."

He laid himself down beside his panting victim, turning the head sideways so that his gaze could plunge into the child's blue eyes misted by tears, letting the remaining boys wash him with their tongues, one of them working his mouth around and over his gigantic member.

As he came down the kid's throat, he was caressing Lukas's blond head. "What next?" mused Leto.

He went to continue his 'work' with Lukas. The boy's torments lasted for a long time till Leto lost interest and let him die, certainly not out of mercy.

***

Meanwhile Melchior was finishing his work on the two heads from the hunt four days past, putting in the last touches. They would join the others later in the evening. Some magic was involved in the process, which took some time to give them all the appearance of life. The eyes were always the trickiest part. Melchior excelled at that. It had been in part due to this talent that he had entered Lord Leto's service close to ten years ago.

At that time, the Duke had embraced the idea of giving back even a semblance of life to what had been taken. He truly loved the boys he had to kill as the Beast. The guilt and horror had taken years to leave his mind to be replaced by darkness, inhumanity, and the desire to destroy what he loved the most in life.

Melchior had slowly made himself invaluable, favoring the Duke's new needs and desires and procuring the boys through his network inside and outside the kingdom. He was now Leto's most trusted man in all matters except war.

As a follower of the Archons, he deeply felt the waning of true magic throughout the land.

His Masters were gone and only a few Magi still walked the earth. Magic was leaving this world. He knew only a few years were left for a chance to restore the old order and have darkness prevail. As soon as he finished, and had showed the results to Leto, he would go see his guest, who had arrived in the morning, cater to his special needs and then discuss with him the latest developments.

***

William was nervous. He had good reasons to be.

First, William was not his real name and he was afraid to be caught at this game; it was a secret, known only by his father, his brother, very few of their entourage and the Magus.

He was Arthur; a name predestined through worlds and centuries, said Tristam. The magic needed a first born to work! No one would have believed or understood if the King had sent his heir to accompany Leto. So he changed places with his twin brother; they were so alike that no one would see the difference.

Of course, this was the least of his problems, the easy one; the one that he used to forget the more important, almost impossible one. His mission was crucial for him and even more so for the realm. To succeed, he had to find a way to be loved by Lord Leto, truly, deeply loved. It was known that the man was a monster, and despite all the teachings of the Magus, he still had no precise idea how to achieve that.

He knew he had good looks. In his world, every boy knew through the attention they were given if they were attractive or common. He knew how to use them to his advantage and add some charm when he wanted something. The pages and squires at the palace had told him all about sex; many had offered their services out of simple friendship, attraction or more often to reinforce their position at the court. He had been mostly uninterested. He had seen the lecherous attitude of some of the lords and knights, how they watched him and his brother when they walked the corridors and chambers of the royal palace. He had a precise idea of what they wanted, was well aware of what they did to their own pages or squires, servant boys and scullions. He was kind of repelled but also attracted by it all.

Soon he would leave the palace and Soonlure for an unknown amount of time and at the service of a monster who fed on boys at least once every month and now even more often if his father's spies reports were true. Why else would there be need of magic!

He envied somewhat his brother who was spared that terrible burden.

At least he would not be alone. Tristam, the Magus, would be with him in disguise and his page and whipping boy, Lucian would come along too. The boy and his own twin brother Farrad, had been raised with the princes from infancy, the two pair of twins always inseparable and among the very few to be able to tell each of them apart, an imbroglio they had often used to their advantage.

In fact, thanks to more magic, hidden in Lucian's young body and mind, would be the Magus ready to counsel and help the prince.

He was glad not to be alone in that endeavor and at the same time afraid for the boy he was dearly attached to. Danger for him would be very real and coming from many venues. Poor Lucian had no magic to protect him and was no prince or second heir to a kingdom.

William/Arthur also wondered how confusing it was going to be to talk to two people at the same time while addressing only one; you never knew who would answer.

Lucian had very much disliked the idea from the start, he didn't want someone else in his head, and his thoughts and body taken over, even by the benevolent Magus. But at the same time, he could not imagine to desert his prince and friend, and was ready for any sacrifice to serve him.

So, it was set that Tristam would be there at all times, ready to take control of the boy's mind and body whenever necessary.

William had been ordered to join Lord Leto at Belvoir Palace right away even before their departure to war and had dressed for the occasion with great care. He had to take his role of page very seriously, he wanted to make quite an impression from the start, and had chosen to be as seductive as possible, without overdoing it. He was wearing a light white tunic embroidered with gold and silver open at the sides, shorts that left his thighs naked and very light skin boots stopping under the knees. A snake-like silver bracelet adorned his left arm, a dragon skin belt held the tunic in place with a small dagger hanging from it, at his side.

Lucian was dressed in different colors with blue shawls, a loincloth, a wide belt and wearing light slippers instead of boots, leaving his slender legs naked; it made their difference in status clear. He was equally a charming boy with an innocent look that left hidden his impish nature, he sported medium length black hair, brown eyes in an oval face with a rich light bronze skin that made his white teeth shine. Once on the campaign, they would travel mostly in carriages with Leto's other pages. They had two trunks filled with more alluring clothing, riding and war gear and all the other items that could be necessary during their trip.

"Are you ready, my Prince?" asked his old nanny that had raised him and his brother from infancy after the death of their mother. She could not hide a tear at the corner of her eyes. "How can your father be so insensible and accept to send you to that demon! I will never see you again!"

"Of course you will see me again, Dada, do not worry."

"But I worry, I always worry; this time for good reasons."

"I will be with Lucian, and father sends two of his most trusted knights to watch over me, Bertram and Tamerlane."

"I don't think it will be enough. I have a gut feeling, terrible things will happen."

"Of course we are going to war!" He took her in his arms if only to hide his own tears. "I'll try to come say goodbye before we depart with the army. In fact, I'll make sure of it. I love you"

"I love you too, William. Be safe."

They separated with sadness then the boy turned toward his brother William, Farrad by his side, and they all exchanged an accolade, with Lucian immediately joining them."

"Goodbye, Arthur, take good care of Dada and father."

"Good luck William, I will, and I'll think of you often. We will all be together again, very soon."

"Let the gods hear you, Arthur."

Not even their nanny was to know of the stratagem; since when they wanted to, even she had difficulty differentiating between the two brothers, except for a few intimate details and attitudes.

After taking the boy in his arms for long minutes, giving his counsels, and telling him his desire to see him back as soon as possible, his father, King Aluser, watched him leave from a window, praying the gods to keep him safe and let him complete this crucial mission to save the kingdom's peace.

***

"Olgred, how nice to see you. How was your trip?"

"Rather pleasant, thank you, Melchior. We moved fast and as inconspicuously as possible."

Olgred, a vampire lord, was a big man with uncanny, slanted yellow eyes, grayish skin, long flowing brown hair and two sharp fangs that showed when his mouth opened. He had arrived the same morning with a small escort; even dressed as merchants their appearance easily betrayed them as creatures not quite human. They were meeting in a secured and secret chamber in the heart of the palace where no one could witness their presence except for Melchior's men, of course. All were already dedicated to the cause. The large room was decorated with simplicity but comfortable, a stark contrast to the rest of the residence where luxury and magnificence reigned. The light came from a complicated system of mirrors, the invention of one of Leto's science academies a few years back.

"Our affairs are moving forward. It appears we will reach our mutual goals," said Melchior. "I had hoped we would not have to meet Lord Leto on the field. His armies will soon be marching toward the Vale and the curse has not run its course yet."

"No, not yet, but it is only a question of weeks."

"Then we should have perhaps waited some more before revealing ourselves, our attack on the Vale may have been premature?"

"No, it is all part of the ploy. Without it, the King would not have called Lord Leto to the capital; he would not have met the princes."

"What need is there to that. It would have ended the same if we had let the curse run its course, making Leto's transmutation permanent in body and soul, creating chaos and this within mere weeks or months from what I have been told."

"I do not agree, with some luck and some help from my part the conflict between the King and Lord Leto could erupt very soon and then they would destroy each other without us having to lift a single finger. It would never happen if only a complete transformation took place. His knights and armies would abandon him to leave him to his fate. Try to destroy him even."

"You could be right. Do we still pursue the capture of his wife and children? That is in large part the reason for my presence."

"It seems useless for now or at least premature. Although having his heir in our possession could help us in taking over the rest of his lands after the fall of the King. We might need to take action later on that matter.""

"So what do we do now?"

"We let the wheels turn, what we set in motion come to fruition. You can rest and enjoy our hospitality. I see you have brought your own sustenance."

"Yes, those are my familiars under my complete influence."

The vampire lord was flanked by two young boys of exquisite beauty, they were naked except for the metal bands that adorned their flanks and limbs; assembled with refined chain mail, all made of precious metals, gold, silver, ebonite. In addition, they wore rings, bracelets, and necklaces adorned with rare stones, including diamonds. Six vampire warriors were standing behind the trio, dressed as merchants. Olgred wore a more suitable garment in relation to his rank and position.

"As I can see, your fashion for boys has reached as far away as my own lands. I must say that they are much more practical on a campaign than lasses, and more resilient."

"I knew of your tastes and bought a few more boys for your amusement during your stay with us. You can dispose of them as it pleases you. I am not sure they quite match the beauty of those two, but you can drink them to the last drop."

"I certainly will. Would you like to try some of my familiars' blood? It is laced with different flavors and aromas due to their diet and some other artifice."

"I have been told that you inject them with a certain fluid when you bite them and that it puts them under your influence. I don't know if it would be wise for me to try that."

"Ah, Ah, Ah," Olgred's laugh was natural. "Yes, you are right, there is a slight risk, but many say that it is worth it. It is a nectar, believe me."

"Some other time perhaps."

"I see, but we cannot part like that without sharing some blood together! Have your men bring those boys you spoke of, and glasses."

Five minutes later three boys entered the room, head down wearing a simple tunic like cattle to the slaughterhouse. They had been washed and fed but knew that their fate would be dire.

"Not too bad, looks like good stock. Bring me the one in the middle, the towheaded one."

Olgred's men took over from Melchior's; they seized the boy without using excessive force, positioning him close to the table with two glasses set on it. The vampire pulled a small knife from his belt.

"What is your name, boy? Do not worry it won't hurt much and I always prefer to know whose blood I drink."

"Wwwaalter, Lord."

"Stretch your arm and put your wrist above the glasses." Walter, shaking slightly in fear, complied.

Olgred, in an almost gentle move opened the vein to let the blood dribble in the glasses until they were filled.

"Good, you see it wasn't that bad. Give me your hand, I want to see if it is rich and worthy of my guest." He brought the wrist to his mouth and licked at the wound. "Not bad, I am sure you will like it, my friend. Let's drink before it gets cold; and you see, boy, it has stopped bleeding already, I told you it would be nothing."

He let go of the child's wrist with a smile and lifted his glass.

"Let's drink to our success!" He drained the glass in one go while Melchior just sipped some of it."

"You're a frugal man. For myself I must say blood always hungers me. I think me and my men will drain those boys you brought us. My familiars will drink Walter's fluids too, Soren and Crit need their own sustenance; they were my only source of blood during our journey here. We did not want to risk revealing our presence. The other two boys will serve my men who are also very thirsty."

The child, still standing beside the table, had difficulty understanding what had just been said, he thought, hoped, that after giving his blood they would leave him alone. He saw the vampire lord signal two of his men to stand behind him.

"What are you boy, twelve or about? How much do you weigh? Bring a bucket, we will bleed him."

"You want to do that here, now!" exclaimed Melchior, surprised.

"Why not? There are no carpets, it is stone that will wash with some water. Let's do it right away, it won't take long. You will then show the kitchen to this man, he'll take care of the rest, he is my personal cook, he'll tell you what else he needs."

"But you're vampires, don't you only drink blood?"

"Not at all, we are a creation of the Archons, quite different from the creatures of the night described in the old tales. Let's get to work, get rid of his tunic, hold him up; head down above the bucket like a young calf. Give me my sword."

Two of the vampires pulled off the short tunic, seized the boy by his ankle, casually raising his naked body upside down, his head hitting lightly the stone floor on the way, and pulled his legs apart; they knew what was coming. A third man handed the Lord his razor sharp sword. The boy was silent, he did not try to fight back either, catatonic with terror. He felt close to nothing when the blade cut his throat, just enough to let the blood flow, not to kill.

Olgred waited for a few minutes until the bucket was half-full and the boy was close to losing consciousness. Melchior watched, hypnotized by the nonchalant cruelty of the proceedings.

"I suppose those boys are easily replaceable with all the orphanages, brothels, and homeless children in such a large city?"

"Of course," answered Melchior, "if you're not too demanding on the quality."

"I am sure you will manage both. I'll tell my men those other two can be drained, no need for them to tell what they've seen."

"Will you share our meal Melchior? We still have a lot to discuss."

"Of course, with pleasure, but for now I have to leave you for a few moments, I have some chores to attend to, but I will be back. If you need anything, tell my servants. I'll also make sure to procure you the needed boys by the evening."

"Make it seven this time, one for each of us."

"As it pleases you, my Lord."

Melchior wondered why Olgred had found necessary this show of cruelty and barbarism; did he think he would be impressed? In that case, he was certainly misinformed.

As he left, he saw the two familiars plunge their glasses in the bucket and drink greedily.

***

Arthur, the name did not have the time to leave Lucian's lips before he heard Tristam's inner voice stop him. No, it is William, you have to be careful, you cannot make any mistake, always think of him as William! They were reaching their destination and in the end Lucian stayed silent, what he had to say was not relevant anymore. He must be only William for us all from now on, insisted the Magus.

The boy was one of the few in the confidence and it was a heavy burden for the child, even if he didn't completely realize the scope of what was at stake. He knew that a mistake was out of the question.

They had traveled through the city with its bustling and crowded streets making quite an impression on their passage. The two ravishing boys, on equally remarkable mounts, were led by the two knights in parade armor. Following behind the boys were their escort and a few servants transporting the baggage.

Lucian wasn't as stressed as Arthur… sorry, William. Of course, he had some idea of the importance and perils of their mission but it was mainly William's mission, he was the one that had the most difficult task. Lucian felt much more safe, the presence of the Magi in his mind and body, though annoying, was also the source of a sentiment of security, with his magic, he could certainly protect him from any harm. He would always be with him, never leave his side even if there were times when he did not feel his presence. There was a problem with this arrangement though; he was afraid there would be no more occasions for some mischief, he was a known prankster, then there were some situations that could be embarrassing, from the simple fact of going to the loo to even more intimate and personal matters. He had recently taken a liking to playing with himself and was now inclined to try experimenting with others those new, very agreeable, and fascinating sensations.

Bertram he knew was smitten with him, too bad nothing much was to happen with the Magus around, that would have been easy and he rather liked the man. He had had many suitors already but was not interested at the time, he also suspected that many of them, thanks to his position, wanted only to get closer to the princes and did not care that much about him. He was quite versed already in the palace politics and his position at the court had set him apart from the many other pages and squires at their service. There was also Arthur, well William now, of course, strangely, it had never occurred to any of them to dab in such games probably because they were like family and such things did not happen between brothers, or did they?

For him it was still quite an adventure, going to war! Or something like that, and he did not want to think of the more ominous elements that awaited him. He had heard many stories about Lord Leto, what horrible fate awaited the boys that crossed his path. Still he doubted that all that was said was true. He had always had an optimistic view on life, always seeing the good side of any situation; he had seen Leto's arrival in the throne room, and had been rather seduced by the magnificence and stature of the man and his retinue; a spectacle in itself.

The large iron gate was lifted and they passed through the west archway, guarded by the Purple Legion, the Lord's elite troops, and entered the main courtyard of Belvoir Palace.

They were now in the lion's den!

Chapter Three

As one would think, Belvoir Palace was an impressive place, even for the prince and those that accompanied him: from the Purple Guard in their magnificent armor to the sculpted iron door laced with gold and the vast courtyard with decorated facades.

They were clearly expected, Lord Leto's chamberlain was waiting for them at the top of the stairs in front of the Moon Gate that led to the Lord's living quarters. He was surrounded by two pages and servants ready to take charge of their luggage. The courtyard was bustling with activity, with people going in every direction, but they made way for the new arrivals. Squires came to tend to their horses and they mounted the ten steps that led to the porch.

The chamberlain bent his knee as well as the two pretty pages that flanked him.

"Welcome Prince William, I am Orville, Lord Leto instructed me to take you to him at once, I will then guide you to your apartments and tell you of your duties till we leave the city; if you would like to follow me."

Not waiting for an answer, he was already on his way walking at a hurried pace, the two pages in tow.

William, Lucian, and the two knights had no other choice than to go after them.

The palace was certainly an impressive place, rivaling in its magnificence with the King's own palace in this southern part of the realm. The warm climate allowing many large windows, open archways, and tall ceilings, meant to allow a cooling breeze to flow throughout its many halls and chambers. The floral grew splendidly in the free flowing sun, providing a pleasant smell and colorful sight. One could easily get lost without the guidance of the chamberlain and two pages, dressed as expected, in light airy attire, exposing plenty of flesh, especially as they walked briskly in front of William, Lucian, and their two knights.

They were soon introduced in the main reception room, a vast and heavily decorated space that dwarfed them. Although, it was not there that Lord Leto was expecting them and they had to continue their journey through a labyrinth of corridors, courtyards, two gardens, and more rooms of different sizes, until they finally arrived in front of a large gold and silver door that led to Lord Leto's private chambers.

Two men of the Purple legion stood guard in front of it and opened it wide at a sign from Orville.

William/Arthur could not repress a shiver at his imminent presentation to Lord Leto, in circumstances drastically different from those of their previous meeting. They would be face to face with no king or father to protect him. He would be a page sent to serve his lord with everything it meant in this world. He hoped his status of prince would help refrain the man's most base instincts but that was far from certain. He held Lucian's hand for a brief instant, for courage.

"Come in, come in my prince, you are most welcome in my winter garden, consider my home away from home as your home before we hit the road and go to war." Lord Leto was smiling, affable, but his eyes told another story, they were… hungry. He was dressed in all leather. The vast room where he stood was grand with half of it occupied by plants, flowers, even trees of diverse nature and form, surrounding a chiseled fountain; the scent was exquisite. The light poured from several holes in the vaulted ceiling as if the sun had been a captive there. It was decorated with style but not overdone like the reception room. You felt awed and at peace simultaneously.

The prince and his company bowed before the man.

"I am honored that you chose me as one of your pages, my Lord," said William, trying to keep his voice steady. "I will do my best to serve you as you rightfully deserve. I must say I have been impressed by the magnificence of Belvoir. I think I could lose myself here, without a guide."

"Well said, Prince William, it does happen that people get lost here, some even are never seen again!" Leto now showed a carnivorous smile. "It is a pun, of course. Nothing disappears here without a reason, without my knowledge."

There was silence. Was it a veiled threat?

"But, please do present to me those that accompany you."

"With pleasure my Lord. This is Edwin Bertram and Michal Tamerlane, two of my father's noblest knights who have been mine and my brother's protectors for some years now. This is Lucian, my whipping boy, but in fact like a brother to me, he has been with me since I was born, like his twin brother has been with Arthur."

"Another pair of true twins; how charming and a lovely boy too, as I can see. Come closer, Lucian."

Hesitantly the boy obeyed. The two knights, hands on their swords, watched attentively as well as William who feared the worst even if it appeared impossible that Leto dared anything in front of them. Still though, with the Purple Guards at the door, his stature, and the ominous menace that emanated from the man, his words made everything conceivable. William felt a lump in his throat and swallowed, ready to come to Lucian's help.

"I didn't expect such a beautiful creature to join you on this adventure, Prince William. I must say that he looks almost as perfect and appealing as you do. What a delicate complexion, you know how much I appreciate boys! And I see that you both dressed accordingly. This begins under the very best auspices, indeed."

"It was only natural that we honor you, my Lord, who will be commander of my father's… the king's armies as well as yours."

The man's eyes were devouring the offered boy in front of him. "Come closer, do not be afraid, I won't harm you… eat you."

"I am not afraid, my Lord," replied Lucian who came within reaching distance.

"And there is no need to be." Leto stretched his arm out to bring his hand in contact with the boy's cheek. Lucian fought with himself not to pull away from his touch.

William decided it was the best time to test the reason for his presence here and moved forward. Behind him, the two knights looked at each other concerned, their hands tightening around the pommel of their swords, slowly leaning forward. Leto did not miss noticing it with a smirk.

"I know there are many rumors in the kingdom. Some say that I am a monster, that I eat children," he laughed. "They are all false, how could I destroy what I love the most. I am a man, not a beast, I can be difficult, irate, exacting, but I am always just, I would never harm either of you, or any other boy in my service, believe me." Surprisingly, as William came closer, in front of their eyes the man was changing, his expression, his attitude, his eyes, you could almost presume true those last words."

"I trust you, my Lord; I am sure a man such as you could never do what those rumors say." William was now level with his friend and it seemed that, of its own volition, Leto's hand had left Lucian's cheek to touch the prince's own.

Orville, the chamberlain, as well as the two pages with him, Rand and Focker, had realized something was going on. They had never seen the Lord change, speak that way, and only a few days after a full moon; it usually took a week or two when it happened at all these last months.

As Leto's hand reached the prince's cheek, brushing his ruby lips, he jolted back as if touched by lightning.

"My Lord," exclaimed the panicked Orville. "Are you well?" He pushed William away, interposing himself between them. "Should I call for Melchior?"

"No, I'm fine; in fact I haven't felt better in a long time." His gaze was somewhat unfocused and his face was relaxed. "Was it you, Prince William? This is the first time that a boy has had such an effect on me. I felt… like a spark, a jolt when I touched you, with a surprising strength, how peculiar. It wasn't hurtful; on the contrary, I need to do that again."

"At your service, my Lord," answered William who was hiding his glee. It was working, and working very well. Their success would perhaps come faster than they expected and their task could be much easier. He had felt the healing power of his magic! It had started even before the man's hand came into contact with his cheek; it had started as soon as he began to approach the lord.

"But later," interrupted Orville who had not liked the incident at all. I have to take the prince to his quarters and inform him of what is expected of him here and during the campaign."

"You are right, Orville. Take the prince to his chambers and allow him to settle in. William, your duties will only really start when we leave in two days, until then, you have a lot to learn. Go and meet with the many pages and squires that will come with us; find your place among them. I have myself many counsels to attend to. Of course, we will have to get to know each other better. Would you honor me by joining me for dinner this evening? And please, do not forget to bring your boy Lucian and your knights."

"My pleasure, Lord Leto."

"Mine as well, see you later, young prince." And he was gone at a fast pace.

***

Melchior was not at the palace when Prince William had met with Leto and knew nothing of the incident; nonetheless, he had felt a shift in the Archon's stone that he wore around his neck. It had worried him, it was the first time it had happened. At that time, he was fulfilling one of his most pleasurable tasks at the service of Lord Leto: choosing and buying boys destined for death. The slave traders had been banned from the realm but when there was a demand on the market, the traders always found outlets for their commerce. The most sought after product of the time was boys; everybody wanted one to use and to show. It was not too difficult to find places where their availability was common. No one wanted to know the provenance of these children and most of the vendors did not care what use would be made of them. Calbron, in the Red suburb was his usual purveyor with the best quality products that you could wish for and a frequent renewal of the offer.

The boys he bought there were almost exclusively destined for the hunt and dark harem. The few lucky ones would be gifts to ambassadors or people of power whose beneficial influence could be gained.

This time there would be the seven boys demanded by Olgred, three for the dark harem, a few replacements just to be sure, and finally one for himself. He had hated to be rushed in his choices, but his eye did catch a fawn like creature whose appearance asked for being mistreated; one that he would enjoy as soon as he left the vampire lord's dinner that night, one he couldn't resist. His thoughts were now elsewhere, he needed to know what had provoked that shift in power that he felt in the Archon's stone. They were so close to success that he could not let anything go unnoticed or unchecked.

He quickly selected more boys and then let his men take care of the transport to the palace; he then hurried back by himself.

Orville soon informed him of the meeting with the prince and the strange occurrence he had witnessed. Before having been told by the chamberlain, Melchior had known right away that a change in the balance of forces that surrounded the Lord had taken place, for which he had no explanation. He went to the dark harem where an Archon's artifact was stored to enhance the Beast's influence over Leto and unleash his worst instincts; it was evident that its power was lessened, some magic was at work. He concluded that the Magi Order which was living its last days was interfering. They were making a last ditch effort to stop what was inevitable.

***

Leto was confused and could not concentrate. His war counsel was going on but he felt unconcerned, demotivated; his mind was filled with images of the past days that he could barely bear to see. He was The Beast; he had accepted that fact. He knew that each full moon he would transform, rape, and kill. It was his curse, it was terribly painful for him, but it was to be.

Since touching the prince though, he started to see things quite differently: it wasn't The Beast that had performed those evil deeds, slaughtered that child and so many others in the so-called dark harem, but how could that be? At first, there was no dark harem; just boys that no one would miss, kept together and destined to feed the Beast; it was unjust and cruel but it preserved appearances.

Then it evolved and it became organized. Those boys were now meant to serve the Lord's new and darker pleasures. Encouraged by Melchior and others, it had escalated to the point that there was no more limit; it was now a place of death, extreme cruelty, barbarism, and torment. How had he accepted to participate, to go along with it? This was not the man he was… the man he wanted to be. How had he let those abominations run their course? What was he becoming? It was beyond madness, it was pure evil. He had to put a stop to it.

But as soon as those thoughts had entered his mind, others took their place, showing him the dark beauty, the utmost power and excruciating pleasure those acts provided him. He was lost. This was the first time that he confronted this inner battle in such a way, with such strength. So far it had been a silent struggle where light slowly and inexorably was being replaced by darkness. That sudden resurgence of Leto's conscience was unsettling, frightening, but still very much a flickering thing, on and off.

There was hope, the man's true self had been reawakened, and it demanded to be freed again.

Leto wanted to feel that jolt of energy again, to touch the prince again, but he also knew it would bring him pain and rekindle an inner conflict that could lead to madness and doom.

There was an uneasy feeling around him. His generals and counselors did not see the Lord they were used to serving. He was hesitant, absentminded, when he was usually leading the debate, pointing to problems that had been overlooked by all but him. He was feared but also admired for his dedication and knowledge in the science of war.

"We will resume tomorrow," he stated, and much earlier than he should have, withdrawing immediately as if he was fleeing the reunion. The generals looked at each other surprised or concerned but no one dared speak of it aloud.

Melchior was there waiting, through the Archon stone he was well aware of the confusion that had taken hold of the man. Leto had been about to be engulfed by the Archon's power to become permanently the puppet of the beast within. Now counter forces had reappeared, and the fight was raging. He had to bring him back to their side, to reassess their power over him. He had wrapped the stone chain around his hand, placed the stone in his palm, and seized Leto's to put it in direct contact with his skin.

"You look troubled, my Lord?"

"I am!" Leto was about to push away from him the man who was the symbol and facilitator of all the horrors of those last years; the one that had made it easy, desirable, natural. "I am… troubled?"

Suddenly his mind felt empty, finding that oblivion state that was so comfortable, chasing away the questions that could unsettle him. What he considered horrors a minute before became acceptable, seductive, and attractive. Any remorse was vanquished.

"You should come with me. I am expecting a special delivery, new acquisitions that you will certainly want to examine closely. Fragile things, delicacies that you could love to work on.

"Yes, of course. The counsel ended early, I have some time for that. I'll follow you." His eyes had changed and the hunger was back.

Melchior smiled. The artifact in the dark harem was much more powerful than his stone; it would repair any harm that could have been done. Then he would have to investigate what had caused that phenomenon. Had a Magus entered the palace? He had learned that two knights were escorting the prince. He would ask his informants about them. There were a lot of comings and goings in the palace with the preparations for the campaign, he would have to reinforce the security, it was too easy for a magus to slip by unnoticed.

***

Orville, during the short walk to the prince's chambers, had been telling with great lines, what would be the prince's duties as soon as they left for the Vale of Destiny. Besides menial tasks, it would be obviously mainly to serve and keep company to Leto, to share his bed if this was his desire.

"This is where you will spend the next days, Prince William." They had entered a large room with couches on one side, and a long table with chairs on the other. Along the exterior wall, there was a door and windows that opened onto a courtyard with a garden. On the table were offered an assortment of fruits and pastries. On the floor and walls, rich carpets and tapestries enhanced the decor.

"There are four bedrooms beyond that corridor; your knights can take their quarters there to rest and to keep an eye on you, if that is your desire."

"They certainly will. Father insisted that they do not lose sight of me as much as possible."

"Very well. All your baggage has already been delivered here. I'll let you settle for the next hour. Rand and Focker, here, will help you and then show you around, take you to meet with the other pages and squires that are going to serve Lord Leto during the campaign. At eight this evening you are expected to join him for dinner, do not be late."

"We won't be, lord chamberlain. Thank you for your hospitality."

"My pleasure, Prince, I am here to serve my Lord. He seems very fond of you already, a good thing for you, as he can be very demanding, as you'll see. I will leave you now."

William, after the success of his first meeting with Leto, wanted more than anything else to talk with Tristam, but the presence of the knights, and even more, two of Lord Leto's pages, made it impossible.

"How can we serve you Prince William," asked the taller of the two boys, "I am Rand."

"And you are Focker, I suppose," added William, who was impressed with the boys' beauty. One fair and one dark, they wore simple crimson and gold tunics, opened at the sides and held by a silver belt, very much like himself and Lucian, giving a good insight to the forms barely hidden under the light cloth and leaving the legs and thighs exposed. They wore no shorts or breechcloth, leaving their generous bums well exposed with every movement.

"Let's get those trunks put away in our bedrooms. Sir Bertram and Tamerlane will certainly help us as soon as they have discarded their armors."

"My Prince, I've been waiting for that for quite some time," said Bertram, with Tamerlane nodding in concurrence. They are beautiful and impressive suits, but quite impractical and hot. Boys come assist us taking them off and afterwards we'll pull the trunks that belong to us into our own rooms."

Without having to suggest anything, the two knights and pages left, taking the corridor that led to their chambers, leaving William and Lucian alone, Lucian who harbored Tristam, the Magi, within his being.

"Did you see it? It worked! I felt it! It was so easy!" William's enthusiasm was overwhelming and it was all he could do to keep from shouting. Instead, he talked in a hushed voice, being careful not to be overheard.

Lucian's eyes were now unfocused, the Magus was taking over.

"Beware, the walls could have ears," he answered in even softer tones, "We are far from done. Do not think we will succeed any time soon. The magic is working, yes, but it has only weakened the Archon's curse. The real test will be on the next full moon when you have to confront the Beast itself and try to bring back Leto; till then, you will meet many challenges."

"I know, do you think he will take me to his bed this night?"

"The sooner the better and the closer you get to him, the more he likes… loves you, the more chances we have for you to vanquish the Beast and the curse when that time comes."

"Won't they suspect something if he reacts again so spectacularly in my presence?"

"No, that happens only the first time, now you are attuned, the effects will be more subtle and progressive, there will not be any more jolt of power."

"What about Lucian? I worry about him; you saw how interested Leto was in him. He doesn't have my protections; I don't want to see him mistreated… to lose him."

"I cannot guarantee anything, I simply hope that your status and influence will safeguard him, and spare him from being treated too harshly. As a last resort, I could help him with some magic but I want to avoid that, it might expose us, and our ploy. Silence now, they are coming back."

Lucian's green eyes cleared again and he was back showing a serious face, he had heard what had been said, and clearly recalled the risks of his position.

"It is so much better without those armors," said Tamerlane, with one hand on Rand's shoulder. "I should get myself a page or squire like you."

The two knights were now wearing simple and lighter garb; they still had their swords by their sides though.

"I know who I would choose," added Bertram sending a hopeful and discreet glance at Lucian.

"We all know that!" stated his friend with a large smile. "I would be happy with either one of you gentle lads," as he continued addressing Rand and Focker.

"Unfortunately we share our lord's bed most every night dear sir," answered Focker with some evident regret. "We are his favorites."

"You know him well then. Can you tell us what to expect?" asked Lucian.

Focker sent a look at Rand, obviously unsure of how he should answer and what he should say. He clearly wasn't too pleased with his duties.

Rand didn't seem to be in the same state of mind or at least didn't want to show it, so he answered.

"He is strict, exacting, as most of us pages know, but also just. He likes it rough, that's true, but you get used to it with some practice."

No one needed to ask of what subject the boy was referring to.

"He never tires of it," over bided Focker. "Do you have any experience, either one of you, if I may ask?"

"Not really, no," answered the prince who was realizing it had probably been a mistake to overlook that aspect of things. It was too late now.

Rand, feeling the awkwardness of the conversation not really fitted for a prince changed the subject.

"But sir knight, do not worry, there are many boys in the palace who will be happy to serve you in any way you wish. Now, let's put those trunks away and we will take you to them."

***

As he listened to the boy's moans on the marble table and Leto's groans of pleasure, Melchior had a dilemma. He could not miss his meeting with Olgred and he absolutely wanted to see the prince and those who accompanied him. They would all be present at the dinner with Leto. He had to make a choice and it wasn't easy.

He now had been able to evaluate the change in the Lord's mood since that afternoon. Even with the added effect of the Archon's artifact, he was still clearly affected by the spell that had been used on him. In the one hour they had stayed in the dark harem, enough time to kill one of the new boys, he had only made a perfunctory rape of the most appealing one, and without any real streak of cruelty. He was undeniably not in the same disposition as the previous day, and they were back months if not years in his transformation. So close to the full moon, he usually took one victim each day.

"Very nice acquisitions, Melchior, you know how to please me. I would have liked to have the time to play with all of them but I have my duties and I can't stop thinking of the prince, his whipping boy, and their twins. What fun could be had if we had the two pairs at our disposal?"

"Is it those thoughts that trouble you my Lord? I did worry to see you so lenient today; you did not draw any blood yet, which is unusual."

"Yes, there is something different, I feel it. Perhaps it is that I do not have the right subjects to exert my imagination."

"I could try to find you twins, my Lord. Would that please you?"

"Certainly that would rekindle some of my fantasies, true ones, and two pairs, that would be very exciting. Look, just the thought of it has hardened my rod again. Let's do a proper fucking one more time before we leave. Let's try to draw some blood as you said."

He resumed the humping of the twelve-year-old towheaded boy he had already been buggering for the past ten minutes. He redoubled in force and savagery, delighting in the cries of pain of the poor virgin child and did draw blood this time, his member infused with the Beast's cartilaginous nature.

"Stitch him up; I want to be able to use him again as soon as tomorrow, I liked his moans of pain and his feeble attempts to escape my thrusts," Leto added as he had another boy lick clean his leaking and still half erect rod.

Melchior was satisfied all was not lost, maybe it wasn't only the Magi that had been the source of the change but this new unsatisfied fantasy with twins that occupied his mind. Melchior would send a message to Calbron and a few other providers; he hoped that item would not be too difficult to find in such a big city. True twins that were pretty and of the right age, two pairs of them or perhaps three to be sure. He would add that, if necessary, they could be snatched from the street or a house; he needed them within the next two days and would pay the extra cost.

He would meet with Olgred that evening, the prince could wait, he wasn't going anywhere but perhaps Leto's bed; that, he would like to see, though.

***

It was time for Focker and Rand to show the prince and his knights around the palace and meet up with the pages that would be accompanying them to war. Along the way, they often heard the clear voices of young boys and saw many lads of different sizes and origins cross their path. They were not all as spectacularly beautiful as their two guides but they came close; all had comely features, lean and fit bodies. Most were dressed with the same tunics; although some wore different colors…did it indicate rank or function? Quite a few wore even less than that. To each boy they met, the prince's presence was announced and they bowed and followed the little band in a lovely procession. Tamerlane, whose heart was not yet taken and who, anyway, was of a more adventurous nature, was dizzy looking everywhere, not to miss one or the other of these ravishing creatures.

Among them were also some squires, only slightly older, fourteen to sixteen years old; who were dressed in leather vests and shorts, with still a lot of flesh apparent; most wore a dagger by their side.

They finally arrived in a new courtyard and garden that was adjacent to the pages and squires dormitories and gathering places. Many boys were playing or training there. There were a good forty of them on show. Of course, only half of the total numbers were present, many being occupied elsewhere by their duties and the preparations of Leto's imminent departure. Besides those brought from Westerfield Castle, there were others that had their office and function at the palace all year round and then you needed to add the members of the Belvoir choir, a fixture in every residence of their Lord.

William's arrival made quite an impression and every boy in his turn bowed slightly. It was clear that although in theory he had the same status as the other pages, the experience would be quite different for him. How could it be otherwise? He was the king's son. He hoped that it would not bring him too many enmities. Perhaps, with some luck, his wished for closeness with Leto would help, since if he was to interpret Focker's words, notably, that position wasn't to be envied.

Even for a prince being a stranger in the middle of such a large group where everyone seemed to know everyone else was quite intimidating. Fortunately, Focker came to his rescue while Rand stood back. The difference in the two boys' attitude was evident. Was Rand afraid to lose his status of favorite? There were certainly many advantages attached to it as well as major drawbacks as Focker had clearly expressed.

Focker presented to William those around them that would leave with the army in the next days, at the service of Lord Leto, as he would be.

Etos, Corian, Outol, Simver, Tully, Miniver, Atol… and quite a few more, too many strange names to recall at once. They were all friendly with perhaps one or two exceptions. Some were shy, not knowing quite how to behave in the presence of royalty; others seemed to welcome him as any other of their own. The two knights and Lucian were equally well received and were soon surrounded by a few talkative lads.

"This is Memphis, the pages and squires overseer," said Focker, pointing at an older boy coming toward them," he is an easygoing one; he doesn't boss you around and listens."

"Prince William, I am honored to greet you, today," said the young teen who was rather tall but with a youthful and cheerful face, "and those that accompany you. I have been informed that your duties will only begin when we leave the palace. Until then, feel free to mingle with the boys and do not hesitate to ask me any question you might hold. This is the first time we have had a prince among us, so I might not have all the answers, but I will certainly try."

"I will do my best and wish that you treat me like any other boy. This is Lucian, and the knights Tamerlane and Bertram, I hope they are not too intrusive."

"Not at all. We will have to see how they can fit in with your duties in the next days though." His gaze lingered on Lucian for an instant." We can certainly find a position for this boy, Lucian did you say?"

"Yes, he is, was, my whipping boy."

"One question that will need to be answered, do you still need a whipping boy while you are with us. I would believe so. I do not see me ordering that you be punished, but I will leave it to Lord Leto to decide for us."

"What is that music that I hear?" asked William. It came from the other side of the courtyard and was rather pleasant.

"It is a rehearsal for the spectacle that will be performed during the Lord's dinner this evening; had you come earlier you would have been able to listen to the choir too."

"Could we have a look? I will be a guest at the Lord's table." Memphis seemed embarrassed.

"I think it better that you do not then, Lord Leto would want it to be a surprise." There was a small smile at the corner of his lips and some mirth from the boys gathered around them.

"Very well, I'll gladly wait till this evening."

"You will discover that life with Lord Leto can be sometimes unsettling. His lifestyle is extravagant; he can be unpredictable and difficult. You can count on me and all the boys gathered here to help and support you in those moments, like we do already with each other."

William could not hide some apprehension, the many tasks ahead as Tristam had said would be exacting and challenging. Nonetheless, he found some comfort in the friendly and joyous atmosphere that emanated from the gathering of boys around him, far from the gloom and dread he had been half expecting.

Chapter Four

Prince William, Lucian, and their two knights, Michal Tamerlane and Edwin Bertram were certainly impressed by the tour of Belvoir Palace, one of the most extraordinary, here in Soonlure the capital of Alsoon. They had seen so much; walked a great distance, following endless corridors, crossing patios and all-purposes rooms, with varied shapes and styles. They met so many pages and squires; too many to keep track of, and each clearly handpicked for their beauty. Without the guidance of the two pages, Rand and Focker, one could easily have gotten lost.

It was now time to head back to the apartments, reserved for royal and noble visitors. Michal and Edwin welcomed the move, a chance to let down their guard a bit, although it was with mixed emotions. The sight of all these beautiful boys, a sight to behold and never let go would be missed, yet the need for the relief that it induced, would be most welcome. The kind of relief you couldn't achieve while on public duty escorting the prince of Alsoon.

Following Rand and Focker down a long arched corridor of stone, they passed many large wooden doors on each side. The boys' tunics fluttering with the brisk walk, exposing their naked rumps, making both Michal and Edwin all the more anxious and ready to burst through their codpieces. Finally reaching the end, they were back to the apartments, where two pages met them, waiting just inside the door. Rand introduced them as Silla, a pretty brown-haired twelve-year-old, and Estam, a towheaded charming boy of the same age. Each bowed to the prince and said, "At your service, my Prince."

Rand and Focker bid goodbye to the prince after letting them know there was time to rest before getting dressed for tonight's dinner festivities at nine and that the two pages were there to take care of any needs they may have.

As most of the boys around the palace, Silla and Estam were scantily dressed, each wearing a crimson wrap around their waist with a matching sash over their left shoulder, held with a single medallion. Two armbands of leather with an embossed pattern and open leather sandals completed the look. The boys were perfectly proportioned and physically fit. The work they must put in to keeping such a toned body was consequent and showed on all the boys in the palace.

"We are dedicated to the service of our Lord's guests, you can do with us as it pleases you," said Silla.

"There is still time before this evening's dinner," added Estam, passing his tongue over his ruby lips.

Their meaning was not lost on the two knights who exchanged appreciative glances. "I'll certainly have need of your services, boys. I'm in such a state after meeting with all of you in that courtyard. I must say your Lord has great taste concerning boys and you two are among the most appealing. If my prince permits, of course," said Tamerlane, wondering which one he would take to bed.

"Do as it pleases you, Michal, for my part I will open my trunks and get settled, see what to wear for the dinner. What about you Edwin?"

Bertram was tempted to seize the occasion and take the towheaded boy to his room but was afraid to lose his chances with Lucian who was the boy he really wanted more than anything else. He knew the boy was aware of his desires but nothing had come of it yet. This situation was clearly embarrassing but also very arousing. How could they get together, alone? From there, he was sure he could succeed and have the boy join him later in his bed.

"I think I'll pass on the boys, perhaps Lucian could come help me unpack like you plan to do?"

"I'll gladly help the prince choose this evening's attire myself," said Estam, the page, "Lucian can be all yours, sir knight."

Was the boy that savvy of the knight's desire? wondered Bertram. If so, he showed great insight. It was hardly surprising though, since they had set foot in Belvoir it was clear that the whole purpose of these boys was to please their Lord and consorts.

"That suits me fine," said Lucian. Nothing much would happen, he knew, but he would certainly have a lot of fun teasing the poor Bertram. It had been too obvious to Lucian for some time now that Bertram had had eyes for him.

William pulled out a few tunics trying to pick one for this evening's dinner. Estam suggested he wear purple, reserved for royalty, as many of the guests would not know him yet. William had been thinking something less formal, a bit revealing, yet not too obvious, as he didn't want his intentions known. They were both interrupted by the vigorous lovemaking in the next bedroom: the slapping of flesh on flesh, the grunts and moans of Tamerlane, the softer, higher pitched sounds of Silla. Estam, seeing the strained look on the prince, offered again his services.

"No, thank you, some other time perhaps. Are you coming to war with us?"

"No, I am staying here at Belvoir. I would have certainly liked to see that though."

The boy was charming enough and would have been an easy and agreeable way for William to hone some sexual skills, but it was strictly forbidden by the Magus. He was to stay a virgin; he could not even touch himself, and wore a tight undergarment to keep his libido under control. Oh, how he wished to be free again and forget his duties, to discover those pleasures at his own pace and be able to follow his own desires. Certainly, the pages and squires were not restrained and enjoyed releases often.

He had been told from the beginning of this arduous training that all of his pent up sexual energy had to be saved for Lord Leto in order for the magic to be more effective. They had been preparing for months now, and he knew all there was to know about what a man could do to a boy, and in immense detail. Some of it appeared quite enjoyable but other aspects were not as appealing. His lessons included watching others, silently, behind sheer drapes. He had seen the expressions of pain on the boys' faces as they were penetrated, but also the intense emotions, the joys, the playfulness, the kissing, and the orgasmic releases; as well as the painful slaps to the boys' rear as men rode them hard. He had heard boys yelp at times and moan in pleasure at other times. He was not allowed to experience any of it himself. It was a difficult and hard task that he had been given, a task dealt to him as the king's first born. What the boys he questioned told him was open to conjecture, most said they liked it but none had laid down with Lord Leto. He was afraid for himself but most of all for his mission; he might not to be up to the task.

***

"Lucian, help me tidy up this mess, there are armor parts everywhere, and then we will put some order in my trunks and see what needs to be taken out. No reason to empty them for two or three days only." Edwin had his back to Lucian, and was looking downward at the mess. Moments before, he couldn't take his eyes off the boy.

"Yes, sir, let me do it for you."

Edwin Bertram was a young knight just twenty-six years old. To have attained such a rank and position so early showed his prowess in fighting and an evident strength of character and brought to him many admirers. Not only that, he was gentle and attentive to others which some took for a weakness, in fact despite all those qualities he was shy and reddened easily on many occasions. It had been three months now, since they first met, since Edwin had been assigned to the prince. He had dreamed of Lucian day and night, seeking every occasion to see him at play; watching him in training with the princes, for formal occasions at the court; oh, how he longed to be alone with him.

Lucian did like him and was rather proud to be the object of his interest. At twelve, Lucian wasn't quite sure of his own cravings yet, and so was a bit hesitant. He saw that Edwin's yearnings were full of sentiments, love even; different from the looks he had seen men give to boys. Lucian was on the cusp of puberty and had become most interested in sex; welcoming the physical sensations that he enjoyed, up to this point, in the privacy of his bed, alone at night or when he first awoke with a very stiff penis. Edwin was probably his best option to explore this world of sex, but with Edwin, he was fearful it could lead to romantic feelings too, when all he wanted was to play that sex game, explore and nothing more for the moment. Perhaps, in the end, a boy, a squire would suit him better. Anyway, unfortunately all that would be impossible for quite some time. For now, just some teasing and flirting would be allowed as long as the Magus was there, in his head, and tease he did, as any twelve-year-old would when they knew how much of an effect it had.

Bertram, now that he was alone with the boy, could not think straight anymore when he was so assured a moment before of what he would do, once alone with Lucian! Now, he could not say what burned his lips, what inflamed his whole being. He was certainly in love and for the first time, it was wonderful, yet terrible, almost painful. He wanted to seize the boy and cover him with kisses, give himself to him body and soul, to a mere child, what absurdity. He knew most of his fellow knights liked their boys, mentored them, fucked them with great pleasure, but he doubted there was such intensity in their relations. It was a tradition between men and their chosen boys, each playing their role: the boys learning about sex and the men obtaining relief without any of the consequences, away from their spouses. It wasn't without feelings, but for Bertram, those were different, they had an intensity that he knew others did not have.

"Sir Bertram, I think this one would fit you very well," Lucian said, pulling him from his thoughts. The boy was smiling at him with that mischievous grin he liked so much.

"Good choice, indeed." There was an awkward silence… "Could I touch you?"

"Touch me? Why?"

"Kiss you?"

"Kiss me? What for?" Lucian thought himself a bit cruel there but how could he resist the puns. The knight had turned scarlet again. It was so easy.

"But, you know…"

"What do I know?" Lucian wanted to keep on toying with him, see how far he could go, though he was also tempted to respond to the young, handsome man's needs and felt his cocklet stirring of its own volition.

Bertram could not bear it anymore, struggling against himself, he took two steps forward picked up the boy in a strong embrace and kissed him passionately, while still afraid to be rejected.

"You know I love you, scamp!" Now that he was in the open, Bertram had lost all of his inhibitions and reserve. "You've been playing with me all this time! But now, I've caught you. Will you be mine?"

The man's hands where everywhere on the boy, for the first time lingering on the more fleshy and naked parts, easy to reach with the light tunic he wore. Feasting on Lucian's firm and generous bottom, his gaze was lost in the child's emerald eyes, taking in the half smiling delicate lips, the slightly upturned nose, the perfectly planted teeth, the facetious oval face, with its tanned and luscious skin. The child had clearly accepted the embrace, crossing his legs behind the man's back and clinging to him; was the teasing game finally over?

Lucian had not expected such a move but soon responded to the man's gentle assault, forgetting about the Magus and surrendering himself to the knight's cravings.

The effect on Lucian was immediate, his cocklet sprung to life and came to poke the man's belly, who himself had been hard and leaking from the beginning, but it could not go further thought the boy; he had to find a suitable way out.

"You win Edwin, I surrender," he kissed him sweetly on the lips letting the tip of his tongue meet with the knight's own, "I'll come visit you later in this room, I have duties to perform now. I hope you'll be gentle with me. It will be my very first time." He tried to extricate himself from the man's bear hug but the man did not let him go.

"Is that a promise and not more pretense?" There was a pause as the knight tried to decipher the boy's expressions. "Yes, I believe you," and he let go of the child with regret, "but do not fool me or I'll chastise you."

"That could be fun," replied Lucian, always ready for a jest, "I'll go see if the prince needs me." How I am gonna get out of that, Tristam are you there?

Edwin's hopes were high; certainly, the boy would keep his promise. But now his thoughts suddenly turned worrisome. The reason for their presence here was a monster who fed on boys. How could he protect this bewitching child, keep him safe? His duty was to the prince, nothing, no consideration of any kind could jeopardize that duty. Lucian's fate, or even life, did not count in that context. His happiness and love was without any doubt at the mercy of the whims of a monster, the likes of which the realm had not seen before.

***

Tamerlane was more direct with boys-and girls too, than his fellow knight and friend. He knew what he wanted and this boy was there to satisfy his needs. Without a word, he took off the boy's tunic and sash, and pushed him face down onto the edge of the bed. He pulled down his breeches, just enough to free his rigid member and then set to work.

"Ah, I see you are well greased already like every page and squire should be at all times." He would not need the jar on his bedside table, put there for that purpose and that was to be found in every nobleman or knight's bedroom, and a few others too when they had a boy at their service. "I believe you know well what is expected and you're well trained?"

"I do, sir."

"Good. Let's make it as agreeable as possible for the two of us then." With both hands kneading the boy's buttocks, Michal couldn't help noticing how firm, round, and luscious they were. "I must say, I am sure I'll enjoy these thoroughly."

"I am here to serve and to please, sir knight."

Tamerlane gave a gentle and appreciative slap to the boy's bottom.

"This will be put to good use, trust me." He laid down over the boy and tested his entrance. "I am much in need, so the first one will be fast, I'll get naked for the second round and give your charms the attention they merit. Tell me if I'm too rude, child, I can get carried away sometimes," he added, as he pushed in and immediately was aware that the boy was well used to fulfilling this task, giving the man's organ an easy passage. Soon his pubic hair was tickling the child's butt and the real fucking was starting.

"Ah, ah, oh, ow, yes, good! Ahhh!" The boy was easy, but still tight.

"You know how and when to clench those backside muscles, better than most brothel boys I've known, I'll be done in minutes."

His long thrusts accelerated, this first fuck was dedicated to his own pleasure, the boy only a means to reach it. His libido had been put to the test during his meeting with the pages; he had barely resisted catching one and buggering the child on the spot. Now he could give way to all that pent up energy.

It was vigorous and loud as Michal banged his butt hard and fast, the slapping sounds coming faster and faster, with the boy's butt turning a light shade of red. Michal grabbed his hips to keep him from sliding away, and then had to grab his shoulders as the thrusts became more powerful... "Raaahhh, here it comes!" he exclaimed, as his seed flooded the boy's canal.

"You did well. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No sir, it was alright," answered the page a little rattled but smiling. "That was quite some fuck."

Tamerlane was preparing for what was to follow, slipping off his shirt and breeches. As he did he wanted to inquire about the boy, Belvoir and their host, he never forgot his duty to the prince and his king.

"Help me with my boots boy. What is your name again?"

"Silla, sir." He was a beautiful child like so many of those encountered since their arrival. The knight was persuaded they were all available and well versed in the arts of love. Silla had finished removing his boots and breeches and without being asked employed his hands, mouth and tongue to revive with great success the man's flaccid phallus.

"Come up here, lad," Tamerlane said, as he picked him up letting his cock slip from the lad's lips that he kissed fairly. "You are very talented, how long have you been in Lord Leto's service?"

"Three years, sir."

"Have you laid with him?"

"No sir, I did not have that honor. I serve here at Belvoir; I am not from the Elysium. He has not visited here for a long time."

"What are your tasks here then?

"I serve his knights and the Blue Guard garrison, some of the guests as you can see. Belvoir is also a school and we all have classes here, besides our duties."

"I see. Will you come with us to war?"

"I do not think so."

"I'll miss you then, you did marvels with my precious shaft. Are you ready to receive me again?"

"As you wish, sir."

The boy seemed lacking in enthusiasm but it didn't stop the knight who impaled him with his rod making sure this time to play with Silla's pricklet and balls and bring him to climax a few times.

***

Melchior returned to the secure chamber in the heart of Belvoir to meet again with Lord Olgred. Passing through one of its concealed doorways, he made his way to the central hall where they had met earlier. The especially large fireplace, now roaring, had warmed the all-stone room nicely. He was at once enveloped by a delicate and exotic smell coming from the kitchens and a more familiar one of the boar, its half carcass slowly roasting in the open fireplace, one of Olgred's familiars attending to it, turning the spindle and basting it with sauce and fat, another nice smell that mixed agreeably with the other. At least it augured well for the food that would be served.

Melchior hoped to be freed from the vampire Lord's company as soon as they concluded their business, early if possible, for he wished to have some time with his new acquisition by the sweet name of Lichan and just ten years old.

Earlier, he had instructed some of his men to go and watch Lord Leto's dinner taking place in the Grand Hall, with orders to report to him in detail any incident or out of the ordinary circumstance they could note.

"Melchior, my friend, here you are. Come sit with me, we should be able to eat in a few minutes." Olgred had his other familiar on his knees. He had been obviously perusing of his goods and was in the best disposition.

"You seem to have an excellent cook from the flavors I perceive."

"Yes, he does miracles. I was just having some aperitif," he showed Melchior the boy's wrist adorned with a few bite marks. "Still not interested?"

"We have important matters to discuss; I don't want to risk losing some of my concentration." They were fighting on the same side but Melchior was a distrustful man.

"Quite understandable, some other time then; I can assure you there is no danger in trying it as long as you don't get addicted. By the way, where are the boys you promised, we got the wine, probably more than necessary in fact, look at those barrels! But no boy yet. Was there a setback?"

"Not at all, that is no wine. Come with me." He signaled his servants at the door to come help him take off the lids.

The three barrels of wine had been stowed along the wall.

"This is Belvoir and not Westerfield. Here not everyone is on our side, so I need to take some precautions and hide some of our activities. Having those boys walk the halls to get here could have raised unwanted questions. And I thought bringing them to you in barrels was a nice pun, don't you think? You are certainly going to drink them all, sooner or later.

"Ah, I like your humor Melchior; that we will certainly do. They must be awfully cramped in there. Only three barrels, two boys in each of them I suppose? That's one less than promised. Well I don't care about it that much as long as there is one for each of my men, I have my familiars, the seventh boy was for them more than for me."

"They'll have their boy. One of these barrels must be holding three."

"More than cramped then, crushed would be the right word. Let's get them out and see the merchandise."

The lids came off easily and seven frightened naked children were taken out of the barrels.

"Very nice stock, Melchior, I didn't expect such quality merchandise, we will try to make them last longer than the previous three."

"I have very good suppliers and as you said this is a big city. Everything is available if you're ready to pay the price."

"Very generous of you, I will remember that. Roagg, is dinner ready? I am getting hungry," he shouted in the direction of the kitchen.

The seven apprehensive children were taking in their new environment. They had not expected to be treated well, but the sight of the vampire Lord and his warriors did not alleviate their sense of dread. That race was unknown in the kingdom but the two small fangs in their mouth and the slanted yellow eyes made it clear they were in dangerous territory.

"Men come pick your boy, they are here to serve you any way it pleases you, Soren, which one would you like to play with?"

The familiar had followed them and was giving the exposed boys a close inspection.

"You'll see he has good taste," said Olgred as a proud father would of his son. The rest of the vampires had stepped back waiting for the exquisite child to make his final choice.

Soren picked one of the pretty boys, perhaps, indeed, the best of the lot with his braided hair and exotic looks.

"A boy from the isles, good choice Soren, you can have a taste before dinner, but just a taste." Addressing his men, he added, "Make your choice." Then turning his head towards Melchior, he said, "Let's go sit," and they moved back to the table.

Soren took his chosen boy by the hand and brought him to the large fireplace where the meat was roasting and crackling. He sat with him beside the other familiar who used a small, sharpened stylet to open a vein in the boy's wrist, and then they started to drink, taking turns. Once done, the boy was given the spindle to do the work for them.

Everyone had taken a seat around the table, each vampire with his boy by his side or on his knees. Each one had had his blood sampled, which was a sign of ownership, Melchior was told. Roagg had joined them with a large plate of meat and vegetables calling to the familiars to go fetch more in the kitchen. He was obeyed immediately. They were aided by Melchior's own servants who soon stepped back to stand again by the door. They had also brought him an extra platter and had gone to cut a few slices from the roasting boar, which they set on the table with the others.

"Melchior, in case you don't appreciate our recipe, Roagg used spices from our land; they're quite strong."

"I don't mind trying new tastes, my Lord, but I appreciate your concern. From the aromas, there should not be any problem."

It was true, vampires did not only drink blood they ate food like everybody else and here they showed a hearty appetite. They did not touch the wine, only Melchior seemed to appreciate it.

The meat was perfectly cooked and tasty and the added spices, though strong, added to the savor. It was excellent as well as the roasted meat that Melchior appraised too.

"This meat is quite tasty, don't you think my friend?" He was holding a morsel between his teeth that he offered and fed to one of his familiars who picked it in the same manner. "Crit likes it, clearly. We can give the leftovers to the new boys; it will spice up their blood. Nothing should be wasted."

The boys, though hungry, were wary of the strange taste at first and had to be forced to get to the meat, the familiars had a lot of fun making sure they finished their plates stimulating them with jabs of their stylets whenever it was necessary or not.

"Crit, Soren, come to me," ordered Olgred," I think it is time we had our conversation now Melchior, let us retire from the main hall." They went to a kind of boudoir, alone with the two familiars.

"Is it safe to talk in from of them?" asked Melchior.

"Yes, they are totally under my influence and they'll be my dessert. Would you like some beverage yourself?

"No thank you."

"Drinking my familiars is as much a treat for me as for them, did you know? Each of my bites can be laced with a very effective drug. You mentioned earlier that you were well aware of it. Only after a few injections, they are hooked on it and ask for more. It would be a very effective way to punish them, simply to deprive them of it, if punishing them was ever necessary, that is."

They sat on a very comfortable sofa chair, with Olgred placing a boy on each of his knees, giving him easy access to their necks; he then bit them in turn sipping a little blood each time. The familiars were in bliss their cocklets hard as stone that he fondled absentmindedly.

"So, I think you wanted to hear about The Essence."

"Yes, how far is it?"

"It has almost reached the Vale."

"That close, hmm, the question is, do we bring it here now, or do we wait till the Realm armies are defeated?"

"We came here without that much difficulty, but The Essence is fragile. It would put it at great risk. Any incident and we would lose it."

"We have found the emplacement of the grave. So much is at stake. The Dark Magic could be revived; the Archons could walk the earth again."

"That is our final goal but first we must get rid of all the obstacles that could threaten it."

"This is now within reach. Leto is coming to our side; civil war could be our greatest asset."

"Our forces are gathering in the Vale, we have allies coming in from the south. We could crush them, even without the Beast and its influence." As he bit Crit again, the child climaxed and some fluid spurted from his pricklet. Olgred gathered the few droplets on his finger before feeding them to the other child boy.

"Perhaps but we do not want to take chances, the Dark Coven has decided it would be so. They are wary of Leto."

"He is just a man, nothing more, in fact much less than that now."

"If we could bring The Essence to the tomb, all would be over and a new era would begin." Melchior was fascinated and himself somewhat aroused by Olgred's handling of his familiars between hunger and affection.

"Let's ask the Dark Coven, then, it is a responsibility I'll leave to them." The vampire Lord said as he licked his last bite, and the wound healing almost immediately.

"So will I. I'll send messengers. We will wait for the Dark Coven answer. Tell me if there is anything you might need during your stay."

"I would like to visit the city and I dream of a hunt here."

"A hunt? Visit the city…it would not be very wise, but I'll see if something can be done. A hunt?"

"Yes, it was our tradition to hunt for blood before we had familiars and herds of humans. A tradition we kept everywhere we resided. Besides one thing I would love to see is the Beast hunting."

"It won't happen for another three weeks from now and far away from here, and you will probably be gone from here by then.

"I do hope so. It is a bit like a prison for us here."

"Sorry for that, but security is of the utmost importance as you well know. I'll try to make your stay as pleasant as can be. Still it has been a very interesting and agreeable evening. I'll come see you again as soon as I have an answer."

"Come as often as you want, I like your company." Olgred stood up, letting go of his familiars. "Go replenish yourselves my pretties; you'll need your strength later in bed. What about you, my friend, do you have a boy, a maid perhaps, keeping your bed warm."

"Right now it is a boy. Not as extraordinary as your own, I'm afraid, but of exactly the kind I need."

"Go join him then and take good care of him."

That I'll do, thought the small man as he left his guest for the evening.

***

The Magus Tristam had followed closely the romp between Lucian and the knight Bertram and had enjoyed it thoroughly. He had never expected that his immersion in the boy's soul and body would be so invigorating. It had been simply conceived as a clever ploy to be beside the prince at most times, ready to help or counsel him, protect him with more magic if necessary. This was a pleasant surprise! So pleasant in fact, that, ideas of a dangerous nature started to form in the Magus' mind. His life had been devoted to magic and his duties from an early age, there had been nothing else. Sex or anything like it was forbidden. For a Magi, it was detrimental to the essence of magic and to wielding the necessary control over your spells. Being confronted by the boy's awakening sex drives was a marvel but a danger for his skills in those times of utmost importance. Some alternative had to be found. To use his abilities to incapacitate the boy was the most reasonable, though he hated the simple idea of it, it was all so fascinating, still what else could be done?

"Tristam, are you there?"

"Of course, I am here, child."

"You know what's going on then?"

"I do."

"It's embarrassing; I can't have you with me in such situations."

"It is mostly dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Yes, it is difficult to explain."

"I thought that there could be times when you could go away. I would call you back if it was necessary. You could let me live my life. It is difficult enough to face all these new things for me… You know sex and stuff. But to have you permanently watching over my shoulder is one more problem I could do without."

"I had thought of something more radical."

"More radical, what is that?"

"Make you forget everything about sex, for as long as necessary."

"You must be mad. I just said I would go to Bertram tonight, and I want to. No way you're taking that from me, or anything else."

"I can make him forget too, for a time."

"I prefer my solution, what is it for you if you go away for a few hours. What does it all matters to you?"

"While I am with you our souls are one, I share all your emotions, experiences. Being exposed to those new emotions affects, even jeopardizes, my abilities to protect the prince."

"Then give me a few hours of freedom each day. It should be enough and I'll try not to think of that stuff the rest of the time. If you take it away, I'm sure I'll get upset and I'm good for nothing when I'm like that."

"Well, I'll accept your proposal for a few days; give you some reprieve each day to see if it can work that way. Anyhow we must prepare for the dinner with Leto; now, take me to the prince."

"As you wish, Magus."

Tristam was half satisfied with his decision. He knew that the safest way to deal with this was to be radical and not let that situation endure. At the same time, it meant using more magic on the boy and on the knight who clearly would not be deterred easily from getting the child. This was a risk in itself, Magic left traces and the enemy was certainly on the watch for it. Magic was leaving this world, true, but some sorcerers or wizards still walked the earth. There were forces at work in the Vale and the Magus did not doubt they were here too. Another battle was being fought, this one without swords, arrows and shields, perhaps the most important one. Even if they had been vanquished, the Archons still had powerful followers who wanted their revenge.

Then there was the Magus' own attraction to the boy and knight's venture and its possible developments, his strong desire to partake in Lucian's discovery of love. He was going to tell Lucian he would accept to leave his body and soul but it was to be a lie. What he demanded was impossible anyway, he couldn't come and go at will. So he would stay there with him, and truely he wanted to be there, to live with him every moment, every emotion, every feeling and that was certainly the greatest danger. He had no idea of the consequences such an exposition could have, what giving free rein to those buried desires after more than one hundred years of abstinence could bring. He was an old man, probably among the oldest on this land but somehow he felt young again, younger than he had ever felt in his life. His aged body was hidden and safe. The temptation to live young again and fully was too strong to be denied.

Chapter Five

Cal Ugol was the last stronghold in the Vale of Destiny that had not fallen since the invasion two months earlier. Everyone knew it could not resist much longer, through lack of food or lack of combatants, it was only a matter of time before it was taken. The refugees had poured in as the Alliance marched through the Vale with impunity. They would not be able to repel many more attacks, as the dead piled up, and the wounded had to continue to fight to their last breath.

Captain Sandor of the Torsend family had seen the extermination of a large part of the population of the Vale take place. It was one bloodbath after another. He had been fighting since the outbreak, seeing defeat after defeat and most of the men under him perish in hopeless battles. The death toll all along the way had been countless. First to be slaughtered were the able-bodied men and not only those brave souls who took up arms to protect their families and homes but all of those that did not flee or hide, many mere adolescents, still boys really. It had been the fate of whole towns and mere villages, the weak, the very young, and the elderly mercilessly put to death: butchered where they cowered; ripped from their mothers embrace and sliced open with a single swing of the sword. Young boys ran, girls screamed, and the women cried out over the dead. These were the survivors, rounded up and shackled. Their fate was one of slavery, at least for the ones strong enough to work, or pretty enough to satisfy the basic needs of the invading army. The rest were nothing more than livestock, culled out and fed to the strange animals that the army used in their conquest. Vampires took their spoils in blood, quenching their thirst like drunken sailors, not caring to keep their victims alive.

The attack had been a complete surprise. The only way in or out of the Vale of Destiny were two narrow passages, both guarded by massive fortresses, Cal Marat to the west and Cal Radul to the east. The valley itself was impenetrable to any would be invaders, with its tall sharp mountains, and sheer cliffs extending straight skyward from the valley floor. Many an experienced climber had attempted to scale these cliff faces, some had made it, some had perished, and most gave up. The fortresses, facing and blocking the entrances, were imposing, impenetrable, structures that would repel any outside invasion.

The people of the valley did not understand how it happened. They suddenly found themselves cut off from the outside world. The Alliance had thousands upon thousands of warriors and creatures, crushing and destroying everything in their path. The people of the valley were trapped and had nowhere to flee. They were doomed.

***

Levit el was sleeping lightly in the captain's arms, as he did every night since Sandor lev had found him, probably saved him, was it only a month ago? Both were fully clothed and ready to go to the walls in case the bell sounded again. His dark hair with bluish tones disheveled; his face and hands covered in crud; his torn and ripped clothes in many places unwashed. Underneath was a beautiful child, a young boy that Sandor lev was instantly smitten with. He had lost his own squire in battle just days before finding Levit el, a refugee among many others fleeing the invaders. Although young to be a squire, the captain adopted him for that duty. In such a war, Sandor lev knew he had no other choice if he wanted to keep him by his side.

The boy had been difficult to approach and initiate at first but soon every night together had become one of passion, as it was to be between a captain of the guard and his squire. The stronger their ties the better they would fight together. As it had been for centuries, men and boys trained together and fought together, it had always been that way; they learned to depend on each other, care for each other, and die for each other. Under these dire conditions, it didn't take long for a strong bond to develop between these two, they had fought many gruesome battles already, but it was a lost cause, and now, here, they were awaiting the end.

They had not made love for so long it seemed, perhaps ten days now or less, they had lost the notion of time. Both were aching in their heart and minds to do it one more time before it was too late. The boy was exhausted, his slumber fitful, the man, Sandor lev, lacked the spirit; all of their energy and will was dedicated to one goal now, to protect those that had taken refuge here and kill as many of the attackers as they could before meeting their own demise.

"Captain, the Lord Commander wants to see you," said a voice behind him.

Captain Sandor turned around.

"What more is there to discuss? I need my rest," he didn't want to leave the boy's side; every minute he held him close could be the last.

"He said to come at once," insisted the young messenger.

"Very well, I'm coming." The night was far from over; what did the pretentious bastard want of him?

***

Salgar let go of the dead girl, one more he had drained and in only two days, he was more careful with the boys, enjoyed them more. Her body would feed his drak; nothing went to waste. The general was getting impatient; none of the Valeans' strongholds had resisted this long. Still, he was incredulous that the invasion had been this successful.

The planning had been meticulous; the preparations had taken years, slowly putting all the pieces into place. An alliance formed among the different factions of people with very little difficulty, all having given allegiance to the Archons long before they were gone and benefiting from their lingering influence in those regions despite their demise. It finally culminated in a swift and decisive campaign, with each victory followed by another.

The vampires were the heart of the Alliance, they were the Archons' main creation, their ultimate goal being to serve them and restore their power. They viewed the humans as a lower species, livestock to feed upon, and looked upon the Alliance as an opportunity they could not miss. Humans by their side vanquishing humans for greed or power, it would be a feast like no other.

The people of the three kingdoms to the east of the Vale had tacitly allowed the Alliance to move warriors and supplies through their lands and set up staging areas in remote uninhabited territories. Vampires were only a legend in those parts and many of the other creatures with them would have brought terror and hostility had their presence been known. They moved through the provinces on less traveled roads, through minor villages; avoiding any larger towns, secrecy was of the utmost importance. It was not hard to convince the officials to look the other way; a little currency was all that was necessary. The people of these kingdoms were poor, the output of their labors robbed by taxes and toll fees paid to the people of the Vale. The Vale was the only way for them to reach the Kingdom of Alsoon; the most lucrative market for their goods. They despised these greedy people, seeing the wealth and leisurely lifestyles they enjoyed at their expense. The Valeans were aloof to them, to all merchants and laborers, and to all foreigners; their removal would be a welcome change.

The vampires brought draks to fight with them. Draks: flying mounts, monstrosities that could carry four warriors, were a mix of horse and lion with wings, fangs, and claws, and an appetite for human flesh. The vampires had secretly bred them in great numbers, tamed them, and trained them for this war.

And finally, the day had come.

As the draks flew in under a dark and moonless sky to the east, a magic portal opened in the west. Creating the portal itself, in a world where magic was waning, required the combined power of those Magi and sorcerers who had been aligned with the Archons, the Dark Lords of Doom. They were most eager to avenge the deaths of the Archons at the hands of Lord Leto and the armies of the Kingdom of Alsoon, and once again make magic the dominant force in this land. This was a magic known to the Archons alone and some of them suspected that it was due to this magic that they had appeared in this world.

Through the night, the draks carried a large part of the army into the valley, flying above the mountains, silently, back and forth in the darkness; depositing men behind the fortress of Cal Radul, the east entrance to the Vale. As dawn broke, the army attacked. From this side, the defenders were few and the fortifications weak; the invading army swiftly achieved its objective to open the gates and let the massacre begin as the hordes of warriors flowed in.

To the west, the Alliance army quietly charged through the portal, bringing everyone through before it closed. The Magi were fully exhausted and completely satisfied, knowing their combined magic had worked. The army marched the short distance west to Cal Marat, and the attack began as the sunlight moved across the valley floor; Cal Marat fell, no one survived. The people of the Vale were now besieged in their own land.

Cal Ugol was a fortified waypoint halfway through the Vale. It was itself a large and imposing structure, meant to provide a safe resting point for travelers through the Vale. Its many inns and restaurants, expensive, and usually filled, also provided a means for merchants to come together and conduct business deals amongst themselves. Its thick walls had the advantage of battlements on all sides. It housed a large contingent of forces, meant to protect the wealth stored there that belonged to the people and nobility of the Vale. It was now the last major stronghold left standing, besides a few fortified towns.

The invaders were coming from both directions, easily overrunning the small villages along the way. Most taken by surprise, the defenses were weak and disorganized; people found themselves suddenly surrounded, it was chaos. They were unprepared for the large army that was pummeling its way through the valley. No one ever expected the gates to the Vale to fall. It had never happened since they had been built centuries ago. The only sporadic fighting in the Vale had been between feuding families.

They moved swiftly from one victory to the next, bloodbath to bloodbath, killing so many but still taking innumerable captives to serve them, play with, feed on… The vampires gorged on blood; the draks were on a regular human flesh diet from babes to elderlies. The human warriors devoted to their cause, were not outdone, and had their own ways to dispatch the Valeans. And there were other creatures among them, fewer in number, prone to cruelty, adept in their own strange ways to inflict the most agony.

Now Cal Ugol was the last stronghold standing, holding what was left of the main forces of the Vale and scores of refugees. The draks circled it day and night making sure that no one escaped, that no bird flew to send messages to Alsoon or anywhere else. It would be the end of the Vale and soon most of the Valeans would be gone. It was the first step, this orgy of blood and mayhem, the harbinger of the second coming of the Archons.

***

Sandor lev did not like Ator lev, the Lord Commander, but he had to recognize that he was the only one, so far, that had been capable of holding back the invaders…for a time. Unfortunately, it was very likely, the last one too. What could possibly justify calling him in the middle of the night, everyone knew that the fall of Cal Ugol was a question of days at the very most. They had barely repelled the last attack, and there would be no one coming to their rescue; there was no one left.

The man had his back turned when Sandor lev entered the room.

"Sir, you were expecting me?"

Ator lev turned around to face the young captain, his expression was grave; there was dried blood in his graying hair. He was not a big man but had a natural air of importance reinforced by a piercing gaze that unsettled everyone in his presence."

"Yes, I have a mission for you."

"A mission?" Sandor lev pursed his lips in a supercilious sneer; it had to be a joke, a bad one."

"We will attack before the night is over. At this moment every able person in the stronghold is being awakened and armed."

Levit el, thought the captain, afraid he would be separated from the boy, wanting to run back to him.

"Able or not in fact, we are not expecting anyone to survive. In truth no one should as has been our policy for some time now."

Every soldier, every squire had a knife hidden in his sleeve, they all knew that if captured they would be killed shortly; the Alliance did not take soldiers alive. The order was to take with them into death as many of the enemy as possible.

With the expected fall of Cal Ugol, the populace knew the gruesome fate that each could expect from the Alliance. Many refugees spoke of the atrocities, the feeding of the draks. Like the soldiers, each carried a weapon with the intent to take as many of the enemy with them as possible… or their own life as a last resort.

"Attack, but…"

"Yes, it is absurd, I know, but why not? They certainly don't expect it, those fiends, don't you think?"

"I suppose so."

"With a surprise attack, we might be able to inflict upon them additional losses than we would otherwise. We will go with honor, not be slaughtered like cattle."

"Let me rouse my men and boys then, and prepare them." All he wanted was to be back with Levit el and nothing else.

"No, I have another mission for you."

"I can't leave my men. They need me."

"They'll manage very well without you."

"You can't refuse me to die with them."

"You are not going to die, not today, at least, if you are successful."

"How can that be? You are mocking me. You never liked me."

"That's true and it is reciprocal I believe. But I know how to recognize talent and dedication when I see it. I need you. Princess Alina sel, what do you think?"

"He'll do very well. I'll want to see his boy too."

"Princess Alina sel!" exclaimed Sandor, putting his knee to the ground in respect and obedience, "I never knew you were still alive; here with us."

"Very few do, Sandor lev. You will escort me and my page out of here. Choose two more men that can be trusted to go with us. Each of you can bring his boy if he is worthy and fit for what lies ahead. We will leave at the peak of the attack when the enemy's attention is focused elsewhere."

The young woman that stepped out of the shadows was dressed as a warrior and had the reputation of one. She had a ravishing but determined face, full of energy and wit, her generous bosom was concealed under the light leather cuirass she wore, she was otherwise slender and of medium size. She was not alone; behind her was a young boy perhaps ten years old, considering his build, with fair hair and now that he came into the light, a delicate face of rare beauty. She brought him forward.

"This is Losfend el, my page and Eros. He comes with us."

So the rumors were true, the princess loved little boys; she better not touch mine, thought Sandor, knowing, at the same time that he could not refuse her anything, she was the last heir and monarch of the Vale.

"As you wish, Princess, but how do we leave the stronghold without being seen and where will we be going. There is only terror and death surrounding us?"

"There is a secret passage that leads three miles from here, you can even take horses, and then comes the most difficult part: we must reach the mountains to the west, south of Cal Marat. There is a pass through it, unknown to all but the princess and a few others, probably dead by now. You must take it and escort Alina sel to King Aluser and safety."

"Some of my father's knights are still leading the resistance to the Alliance, wherever, whenever they can, it will be a war of attrition, without mercy, without much hope. But all is not lost. I will ask the King to come to our aid, to free what is left of our country from those heartless monstrosities."

***

The dinner would start shortly, as Rand and Focker had come to fetch the prince and his entourage to escort them to the main hall. The two pages were dressed alike and formally. They wore a single piece of black fabric with a split that allowed it to rest upon their shoulders and drape straight down the front and back to just below their groin. Rows and rows of golden pieces completely covered the fabric, shimmering in the flickering light of the torches and candles as they moved. A wide sash, wrapped around the waist, held the outfit in place. The width of the fabric left exposed the boys' sides, from the shoulder downward to firm pectorals, hips, and well-toned thighs. Black and gold armbands matched their outfits. Open sandals with lacing that extended up and around the ankles completed the look. It was a very provocative way to attend such a formal affair, but only nobility could wear such a golden tunic, which would keep any prying hands or forced overtures away.

William had decided against the formal purple garment he had brought and went with a less formal white outfit instead. It was somewhat of a tailcoat, except the tails went down each side to just above the knees, leaving a large upside down V in both the front and the back. The top went up and over the left shoulder only, leaving his right side bare. Over this, he wore a very short white vest open at the chest with patterned golden leather lapels that extended outwards at the shoulders, and a simple choker around his neck that held a small but brilliant white agate. He wore tight white shorts that seemed to stretch across his boyhood and tanned leather shoes with straps extending up the full length of his shins. This allowed the features of his young slender body to stand out while maintaining the dignity of his position. Before stepping out, he decided to put on a modest diadem to signify his royal lineage.

Lucian wore a simple blue top that hung down from his shoulders, leaving his midriff bare, and then a matching blue breechcloth that also wrapped around his hips, leaving his slim legs bare from the hips down to his simple leather sandals. This was befitting his status as the princes' whipping boy and belonging to someone from the upper class.

The two knights had chosen light and fine leather garments, happy to be able to discard their armors and swords.

There was less apprehension for William now that he knew that the magic was working, he felt safer and more confident. He had known many such dinners at the capital, formal, long, and boring, where you met so called important people and you had to be polite and gracious to please them. He hoped the spectacle the pages had been preparing would be amusing and help the soiree pass faster.

Once again it took them some time to reach their destination, was Belvoir really that big or did they want to impress him by taking a roundabout way? William wondered, as he glanced around at those that accompanied him. He was amused by the look of interest of Tamerlane, fixed on the pages lovely posteriors well in sight in front of them. His active bout with Silla had not been enough to satiate his appetites it seemed.

They finally arrived in front of a large sculpted gate made of jade and guarded by two adorable boys dressed like their guides but in silver. As they approached, they each pulled on a twisted gold cord and the gate opened to a large patio planted with trees. Torches and braziers were everywhere; a few tables were set in a circular arc in front of a large stage. The setting was informal, modest even, not what William expected and with no more than ten people waiting for them at the tables.

About twenty boys lined the wall, each wearing a simple red wrap about the waist and a matching red sash over one shoulder with a yellow border. Some were standing close to the tables, ready to help seat the guests. Prince William knew of such dinners at his father's court, businessmen, and foreign envoys there to conclude deals and agreements after a day or even weeks of negotiations. William did not attend these dinners or receptions, but had secretly peeked in upon them as any curious boy would. The boys kept the men's cups full and tended to their needs during the meal. As boys leaned over the shoulder of the men to fill their drink, William had noticed some of the men would casually fondle the boy under his tunic, and sometimes stroke their butt; an occasional light slap could be heard, and William noticed that some boys jumped back, but strangely, others would turn their head and smile. Red, the color of passion and love; it was obvious and clear why these delectable boys tended the guests at dinner and many later would accompany a man back to their bedchamber.

Prince William tensed up; this was not the kind of dinner befitting a prince of the realm. He stood in the open doorway, Lucian and his knights behind him, sensing the prince's discontent. Looking around themselves, each immediately knew that this was not the way to welcome a prince, their prince, to your subjects and noble guests.

It promised to be a quite different dinner from what was expected and it gave a particular nature to the kind of recognition Leto intended for him.

Leto was all smiles as he approached to greet the prince. He was wearing long robes of silk leaving much of his torso uncovered. They seemed more fit for the bed than for an official reception. "Welcome, my Prince."

The prince made eye contact with the Lord and slightly bowed his head in acknowledgment. That eye contact and the expression on Lord Leto held a different message than "welcome." They were feral and they shamelessly undressed the boy who felt naked under their gaze.

Soon all the new arrivals understood that this was not an official dinner, high ranking nobility were absent, there were no generals, as might be expected considering the upcoming campaign. Those present were members of the Westerfield Court, made up of Lord Leto's operatives that had profited from and encouraged Leto's worst debaucheries. William detested them at first glance, he felt naked in front of them, a prey to devour with the eyes before sharing the spoils and taking from him as many advantages as possible.

Only one person appeared different from that despicable coterie, Sir Gravenese, a knight and a childhood friend of Leto who had fought with him against the Archons and stayed by his side ever since. He seemed as miserable as William did to be there, and fortunately, he sat beside him. Lucian was not far away on a stool right behind him, as it suited a page from the working class. Indeed, the whipping boy's parents, poor farmers, willingly gave their sons to the king to become pages in the hope they would have a better life. It was sheer luck and coincidence that they had the only true twins born at the same time as the princes.

After Leto had proposed a toast in the young prince's honor, William had hoped that, as earlier that day through magic, his simple presence would have had the same effect on Leto, but so far he had seen no real change in the Lord's eyes or attitude. This despite the fact that when Leto greeted him, the man had touched him on purpose and probably out of curiosity, to see if he would again feel the same dispatch of energy. He had caught the boy's naked arm tentatively at first, then more firmly, going up in a caress taking in his whole shoulder in a large and strong handgrip. This forward contact startled William and he was completely taken aback by it, but there had been nothing, no bolt, no spark, nothing. William had been clearly disappointed but also reassured somewhat, recalling what Tristam had told him. The magic, now that they were attuned, would need time to have an effect. Leto's true self would not be liberated that same evening, only when the Beast had been vanquished could they claim any victory.

William would have to endure this dinner and the Lord's guests whose bad manners were already showing, men and women alike, and it was only the beginning. He would have to be pleasant and charming to seduce the man; his good looks alone would not be enough. It had to be much more profound if he wanted to have any chance of success; he had to touch the man's soul, to create a bond, to be loved and probably to love in return. How was he going to achieve that? For now, looking all around him, he was appalled by what he saw. The guests had not waited long or needed much to drink before openly taking advantage of any boy within their reach. Grabbing, groping, kneading, kissing, and using their hands, fingers, mouths, and tongues on their exposed flesh and even under their light outfits. Some were pinching and then turning nipples, firmly squeezing pert butts, and then landing a hard slap to gauge the boy's reaction. The men laughed. Many a boy trembled. Red: the color of passion and love, and also the color of fire and fury.

William was not the only one to be ill at ease, Lucian and his two knights were also sending glances to each other. Tamerlane, despite his disapproval had his hand in his crotch and was nonetheless aroused by the spectacle taking place among the guests.

"So, my prince, what do you think of Belvoir so far?" asked Lord Leto turning towards him.

"It is a beautiful and spectacular place, so vast, how do you keep from getting lost?"

"There are ways, but it is true that it is disconcerting at first. It comes from its history, Belvoir is composed of five different palaces that have been made one over the years as the noble families that owned them disappeared or sold them. That explains its labyrinthine nature, the differences in styles, the many courtyards, and patios."

"I didn't know that."

"You're so young William, and I've been away too long. It has been years since I set foot in the capital. I had forgotten a lot about this place and not heard much of you and your brother. I did not have the pleasure of seeing you before and was never told how beautiful you were." He placed his hand on the boy's naked thigh in a possessive way, relishing in the touch. "I will certainly dedicate as much time as I can to better appreciate your company and get to know you. I am sure we will have a wonderful time together." He was closing in on the boy getting closer, his expression now, suddenly, one of ardent desire.

That was too much, it was going too fast, William was not ready yet, he had never thought Leto would be so direct in his words and actions. It was as if he planned to ravish the boy now, in front of everyone. Fortunately, Sir Gravenese came to his rescue.

"Leto, there is time for that, leave the prince alone, give him some time to get used to our ways and let's partake in the feast that has been prepared for us. See, the first dishes are being served." It worked, the lecherous expression left his face and he turned away from the boy as more comely pages were bringing in generous platters of meat, fish, vegetables and many other delicacies, each platter smelled heavenly as they were set on the tables.

William had lost much of his appetite afraid of what was to come later.

For the next hour, while they ate, they talked of this and that, nothing of importance or really revealing about either of them, both certainly well aware of the tension that preceded and cognizant that it could reappear without notice. Leto ate only meat and nothing else observed William, which was peculiar he judged; he also drank a lot. Rand and Focker stayed close to him, and like the members of his court all around, he took many liberties with them, while seemingly not having enough, he groped and kissed a few of the pages that came within his reach. From time to time, William felt Leto's piercing gaze, and as their eyes met, he couldn't help to think that he would be the next piece of meat that Lord Leto would feast upon.

The boy's anguish was mounting with each new dish that was presented. The meal would be finished sooner or later and what would happen then? Having to serve Leto, sharing his bed was acceptable, it was even William's main goal, but to be initiated, raped against his will, in front and among a group of drunken courtiers like an ordinary catamite was something else. How could he escape that situation without having either Leto or himself lose face? Was Tristam there, had he taken Lucian's place considering the situation and could he counsel him?

***

Lucian, as soon as he had entered the patio had felt the difference in atmosphere. Like William, he had been expecting one of those boring dinners where you had to meet with unfamiliar boring adults that did not have much interest in you. Or rather, that was William's role; what was required of him was to stay in the background and be ready to serve any wish of the prince or a guest at William's request. It was obvious he was the prince's page. He was mostly there as decoration, with no one giving him more than a passing appreciative glance.

Here in this patio though, he somehow felt naked, being undressed by the eyes of all those present, their glances were not appreciative…they were predatory. He unconsciously checked what he was wearing; he was wearing a simple blue tunic, not the red uniform of the catamites. The symbolism of which was not lost on Lucian, the yellow trim a sign of good luck, the color bright and cheerful, representing the playfulness and carefree attitude of the young, meant to stimulate and excite.

As Lord Leto showed his intentions toward his friend he thought it was the right time to call on Tristam to help them, he himself wanted to disappear and go somewhere else where he would feel safe and not like a piece of meat to use and then discard.

"Tristam, are you there? What should we do? The prince needs you."

There was no answer at first and Lucian started to panic. Did he go away?

Everything was going wrong it seemed. If Leto treated William that way, a prince, second heir to the kingdom, what could happen to him, a simple page with no nobility or riches, simply the deep affection, respect, and friendship of the princes! Had the Magus misinterpreted his demand to be left alone? This was certainly not the moment for that!

"Be quiet child, I am here. I am simply trying to find a way out but it is not easy. This situation is not contradictory with our goal, we just need to avoid that Leto loses interest in the prince by rushing things out. We need time for the magic to work."

"And this is the only thing you worry about, you don't care about him!"

"Of course I care, but our mission comes first, from its success probably depends the future of the kingdom and more than that, perhaps the future of the world as we know it. Let me think in silence."

Lucian set his plate down on a side table; dejected, he almost had not touched it. A young and pretty lady with generous curves had come to him in silence and put her cold hand on the side of his neck.

"Poor little thing, you're not hungry, perhaps you need me to take care of you."

"Sofal, come over, the show is beginning, you will play with that pretty one later, come join us," said a man with two pages beside him, one on each knee and with a third one kneeling between his legs," this one knows how to use his tongue, you'll love it. Those Belvoir boys are really delightful, we should visit more often.

"Sorry, little one," she then added, "I have to leave you for the moment, but I'll come back."

She bent over to kiss him on the mouth while her hand groped his genitals. He was petrified with fear; couldn't she see he was the prince's page and not one of those catamites? Did anyone here respect the rules of etiquette?

Beltram had seen it; Lucian knew he had a knife hidden in his leathers, just in case, but chose to seize a large knife on the table, and Lucian was sure he was capable of using it. The start of the show had saved them. Lucian hoped it would take their minds away from those high stake perils for a time.

***

A group of ten boys appeared in the center of the courtyard dressed in full-length simple tunics. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they gently raised their heads and sang out with an extraordinary mix of clear young boy voices and harmonies. Together they created the most enchanting melodies praising the gods. It mesmerized everyone in attendance who began to quietly rearrange their chairs in front of what would become the stage. The voices were heavenly the music enchanting.

As the songs wound down, a small musical ensemble started up as a narrator appeared to the side. With soft music in the background, the teenage boy, dressed in a black half vest completely open at the front and tight black leather pants stepped forward.

All the spectators seemed as captivated as William did by the beauty of the display, all other questionable activities had ceased, and he finally had hopes that there would be no confrontation, that he would emerge unscathed from this dinner.

"My Prince, Lords and Ladies, and distinguished guests, I present to you this evening a tale to please the soul, a tale meant to honor the gods but also one for the senses."

The story was a familiar one: each year, every town and village chose their most beautiful virgin boy to represent them in an offering to the gods. The priests would gather to judge and select the five most desirable boys for the journey to the temple at the top of Mount Ather, there the gods would designate one boy to join them amongst the stars, where he would be kept forever to serve and entertain them. For the boy, it was a blessing to be chosen. It was said that the gods, in the ensuing year, would bring great prosperity to their town and family.

The boys would spend a week at the temple where the high priests lived. They were tested and challenged, observed and appraised. One boy would stay, the chosen one, by the end of that week, and the four others would return from the mountain. Nothing would be told of what had occurred during that week, the boys knew that otherwise the wrath of the gods would rain down upon them, their family, and their whole town.

"I now bring you the five boys, chosen to make the journey to the high temple of mount Ather."

As the narrator stepped back into the shadows, the light from the lamps in front of the stage were turned bright, revealing a spectacular scene of Mount Ather in the background and the actors in the foreground.

The five boys who played the offerings to the gods were indeed of great beauty, their fathers bringing them forward and giving them over to the priests to be prepared for the arduous journey up the mountain, set for the next day. A crowd had gathered to cheer them on, along with a few hecklers making crude remarks.

The priests, without any ceremony started roughly undressing the boys, saying these ragged clothes were not worthy of the gods. They began to explore, study each part of their anatomy like cattle at the market, examining their most intimate assets, pulling on their cocklets and balls, stretching and separating their butt cheeks to reveal their so far untouched and virgin buttholes, bringing them forward so that the guests could appreciate all of their charms. Indeed, close enough for those in the front row to join in.

William again felt a turning in his stomach as the story suddenly deviated from what had been expected or rather hoped for. He doubted that it could now be salvaged and thought that the worst was still to come.

As the lights dimmed, an older teen called Chiton stepped forward, and in a manifesto declared his ardent love for one of the boys, a lovely lad of eleven with tousled dark hair and emerald eyes, his name was Adol. He described how he could not bear to be without him; how his heart ached and his flesh cried out for the pleasures that only Adol could provide.

"Ever since my Adol had been chosen to represent our town, I have tried again and again to find a way to prevent him from participating in that journey or take his virginity as a last resort, thus making him improper for the gods, please, watch and see how I have failed."

As the lights came up on the full stage, Adol was there, and Chiton went on to describe and recreate, in a most animated manner, all of his failed attempts. It was both funny and erotic to watch the two boys and others reenact all of those situations. There was also a charming and arousing dance sequence with the boys dressed for the gods.

Again, the lights dimmed and the narrator returned.

"We have a solution for you Chiton, on this last evening, your last opportunity, and for that we will need and ask for help from the audience."

The final scheme was then revealed, four volunteers from the audience would be disguised as brigands and join Chiton in raping the five boys as they made their way up the mountain. They would wear masks; the boys would not know who raped them; they would be disgraced and shunned by their families for losing their virginity on such a holy pilgrimage.

"Chiton, of course will be the one to rape Adol, and the one to embrace him as he returns from the mountain in shame. The gods cannot be denied though, and a new search for more fitting boys will have to be made."

The audience responded with enthusiasm as the masks were brought out.

"There is more for me to tell," called out the narrator. "The five boys in this play are true virgins, brought to the palace this past week, expressly for this evening's entertainment. They are now held in a back room and do not know what awaits them. I am sure this will be for our spectators a most pleasant end for our play…well perhaps not so for the boys."

A load roar went up as members of the audience reached out for one of the masks. The same woman who had groped Lucian earlier, strapped on a dildo and with a lecherous smile on her face was given a mask.

William was incredulous, this was not possible, it was cruel, this was not a play it was a perversion, an abomination; it could not be, not in his presence. All he had been told about Leto was true, he was a monster and not only as the Beast!

He turned around to question Lucian or rather Tristam who perhaps could provide him with counsel, tell him what should be done, what could be done. There was no response. He only saw a look of dismay and alarm that mirrored his own.

Without thinking, he stood up.

"What a surprise!" said Leto. "You want to join the brigands? I would never have expected that from you, rather from your knight Tamerlane who seemed quite moved by all he has seen so far."

William, at first, had a problem finding his words, but it did not last and once he had started to speak, they came naturally and with authority.

"Make it stop this instant! This is disgusting; this is insulting to me and yourself. I had been told of a great Lord, which had brought education, wealth, and grandeur to this kingdom. This is despicable, and not worthy of the worst bordello in this city!"

At the outset, Leto appeared enraged by the prince's heartfelt speech, Tamerlane, Bertram and Lucian seeing his reaction, standing up, and the two knights placing their hands close to the large knives on their table.

On the stage, too, everyone had turned toward William, the scene frozen in time. The pretty boys, who had been brought out, now had questioning looks, the brigands about to put on their masks were disgruntled and annoyed to perhaps see their quarry escape them.

"I am a prince, second heir to the kingdom; this is an offense, unacceptable, as this whole dinner from the beginning has been."

Gravenese was about to talk and to try to appease the inevitable fury of his terrible friend. He had warned him, told him to change his plans; Leto had not listened to him, as was most often the case.

Then to everyone's surprise, the Lord stood up and his expression changed, as a smile crept up his face and the tension and irascibility left it. He laughed softly.

"The prince is right my friends. Let's send those five boys home, and pay them handsomely for their performance. You'll make a perfect companion and page, William, for the time you stay with me. I see you're not afraid, I like that, I like that very much. I am really sorry to have offended you. You'll have to tell me how I can repay you; make amends. Bring back the choir and let's end this dinner with music. Please go back to your seats, in peace."

William hesitated for a moment, and then trying to hide his shaking, accepted Leto's demand. For the remaining time there were no more incidents, all behaviors were on check as in any dinner at the royal palace.

Once he had calmed down, William was quite happy with himself and through Lucian received the compliments of Tristam.

He was relieved when the dinner ended, and after paying his respect to the lord, he was able at last to return to his apartments. He followed Silla and Estam, as he left with Lucian and his knights beside him, unscathed.

He did not find sleep for a long time, wondering again and more than ever how he could hope to find any kind of love with that heartless monster.

Chapter Six

Levit el was awakened suddenly, and reaching his hand behind him, frantically searched for the reassuring presence of his lover, but there was no one, only emptiness, Sandor lev had left him.

There was something going on, sounds coming from everywhere. All around him soldiers and boys were getting ready, putting on chain mail and armor plates, checking that their swords were razor sharp, the lances well balanced, filling their quivers with arrows, bending their bows, arming their crossbows. Almost no words were exchanged, their faces were grave, tired.

What was going on? Why was he alone? Sandor had not left his side for so many days and nights now, that he instantly felt incomplete, lost, abandoned. It was a strange feeling after the guilt that had seized him since he had met the man and accepted to give himself to him, was it only five weeks ago? It felt like an eternity.

As a Takur, he had sinned and would never see the Stargods upon his death, which he knew, would come very soon now. His father would have been ashamed and turned away from him, not considering him his son anymore. The man was dead now like most of the people the boy had known.

The Takur's religion condemned the love between man and boy; the making of children to honor the gods was the only justification of any act of the flesh. The Takurs were few but quite extreme in their beliefs, their laws were strict, and Levit had always followed their teachings. They did not mix with others and stayed between themselves even with their numbers waning over the years. That sin was winning was a frequent saying of his father.

A few experiences had reinforced that belief in the boy. In his village, in secret of his community, he had found a few friends of his age, it was a welcome relief from the many bans that he endured otherwise, and it was an occasion to break a few rules. Once a year, at the end of the summer, during the market in Mithral the boy traders came and the fathers brought their most comely sons in the hope of having them picked up and indentured, to serve well to do families. A thriving little business for the traders said his father, which brought gold to them and only a few silver coins to the boys. They treated them like merchandise, having them take off their clothes in front of the passersby and evaluating the quality of what they had to offer, there were organized auctions for the most prized boys but also negotiations between the traders and the families, away from the crowds.

He learned there was more to it when one of his secret friends found himself in a stall being inspected by a trader with two other boys, it was the end of the day when most deals had already been done. He was curious and observed the proceedings from a little distance. He avoided getting too close because he knew many traders would stop him and ask for his father, impressed by his beauty. He didn't like the way they looked at him, touched him. The discussion was vibrant and animated with each father extolling his son's assets, and the trader pooh-poohing. Levit knew they were negotiating the price, as was the custom for goods, but this didn't make sense to his young mind. Usually, after a lot of haggling, but very little time, they would agree and shake hands.

The three fathers stayed silent for a moment as the trader stood with his hands clasped in front of him. Then two of the fathers seemed to agree, and nodded their heads. The trader then took one of the boys by the arm and they disappeared into the man's covered wagon. Fifteen minutes later, they were back, the boy crying softly. Then it was his friend's turn to go in the wagon somewhat reluctantly. Levit had to know what it was about. He snuck around to the backside, keeping out of sight, and discretely approached to peer inside through the open back end of the wagon.

"Two in a row is too much for me, I've done enough for today," he heard the trader speak to himself. Then he called to a friend nearby making sure first that the father was still by the stall and not listening.

"Wart, do you want to have a go with this one?"

"Who could refuse a pretty ass for free? It will be my fourth today. How many did you bugger?"

"Five, I'm used to negotiating with these yokels. They still don't know our customers want only virgin meat. These markets are the cheapest brothels one can dream of, there's not enough of them if you want my opinion."

"Agreed, let's taste that youngling now."

He clambered into the wagon pushed down his breeches and was ready.

"Hold him for me, please," he asked his fellow trader as he got in position.

"No problem, might try his mouth myself while you're at it, haven't used a mouth yet today, so much business to attend to; that might revive my overused tool, and should silence him too. Come on boy open your mouth for me. Do not disappoint us, otherwise your father will learn of it."

Soon both men were busy unceremoniously getting satisfaction from both ends under the revolted gaze of Levit, who despite the shadows discerned very well the sad fate of his friend.

Once they were done, the trader went back to the stall where the fathers were waiting.

"Sorry but they didn't make it, not good enough for a position in a good household, you should have trained them better," he told them, giving each boy a coin as compensation for the buggering. "Maybe next time, or if you're interested, I know of a few respectable brothels in the capital that could employ them, they're not too picky, the boys will get used to having their arse filled and satisfying their customers fast."

The fathers were furious, but more towards their sons than the trader, it seemed. His friend told Levit of the thrashing he had received that evening, once home, and of the pegboard he has to sit on every evening now.

He sure did not regret being part of the Takurs that day, until he met Sandor that is.

***

"Levit el, there you are." The well-known voice took the boy out of his thoughts.

"Sandor lev, where were you, what is going on?"

"I'll tell you later, gather all that we have and wait for me, I'll be back in a short while."

The captain could not resist touching the boy, caressing his lustrous black curls. He had not been so strongly attracted to a boy before and wondered if it was because of the desperate times or because of the splendid boy himself. Perhaps also because the boy had resisted at first, it had taken only a few hours to turn him around but before that, he did not even want to be touched…a strange occurrence for Sandor who usually had it easy with boys.

"Do not worry, I will not be far," he added, kissing the boy's soft brow.

He knew where to find Lorend lev, The man like himself was not leaving his boy's side except to go fight and as soon as possible came back to him. The boy Alois el had been severely wounded two days before and had been feverish and agonizing since, his belly ripped out by a Drak.

"How is he?" he simply asked.

"Near the end, I fear. Perhaps it is for the best. He will escape the fate of many here, they were surrounded by the wounded and dying, those that could not bear a sword anymore. This night will see our last fight, I have been told. No one will survive."

"This is not to be our fate if you come with me."

"What tale are you telling me?"

"I have chosen you to join me on a mission. We might still see the sun rising tomorrow. I can't talk here, you must decide now, make your farewell to Alois el"

"Now?" The sturdy man was trembling.

"Yes, now. It will be mercy for the good lad, he's suffered enough."

"So be it." Lorend took out his knife and as he bent to kiss the boy's lips, after a moment of hesitation that did not last, he plunged it into the child's heart. A single tear could be seen on his cheek.

"I'm sorry but he was gone already. You did the right thing. You can save one other boy though, if you wish, one who lost his knight as you lost your boy, I'm thinking of Tomen el, he is a good fighter and excels with a crossbow. Bring him with you to the east tower ready for a journey, I have one more man and his boy to find, I'll meet you there."

"I'll find him and bring him with me."

"Fine, I knew I could count on you."

And he was gone looking for his second chosen companion, Astar lev. He caught up with him as he was readying a group of boys who had lost their knights.

"Do not forget to fix a knife up your sleeve," he was telling them, "they must not take you alive and I trust each of you to kill at least one of those bastards before you fall."

The boys were soon gone, leaving him with only two boys by his side.

"Sandor lev, what are you doing here, you should be with your men, this last fight will be glorious, I tell you." There was pride, as well as despair in his voice. He had his arm across one of the boy's shoulders holding him close and tight.

"You are right my friend but I have been given different orders."

"Different? We are all to die in glory no later than this coming day; what difference can there be?"

"I am not set to die today."

Astar looked at him incredulous.

"I know that hope is a state of mind but how do you plan to achieve that?"

"I'm taking you and your boy with me, away from here, Lorend lev is already waiting for us at the east tower."

"You won't participate in the attack? What's the point of staying here; they'll come for us anyway."

"We won't be here when they come." He didn't want to say too much, there was a boy that did not belong here. But now that he peered at him he understood why he was still there. "Is this your boy's brother?"

"He is, they are twins, even if they don't look that much alike. They were to accompany me. Safir el wanted him with us."

"Is he trained and fit?"

"He is, like his brother."

"Then he comes too."

"But where do you think we're going exactly?"

"To Alsoon."

Astar, stunned, did not reply and simply followed Sandor; followed himself by the two equally silent boys.

***

"We didn't get to see the end of the play," said Focker, as the prince was leaving the patio.

"Who cares about that, the whole point was to rape those boys," answered Rand with condescension.

"What do you think the gods did when they were deprived of their offerings?" persisted the page.

"Like all gods do in such a situation they punish everyone, sending a disease of some kind or taking all their boys."

"So Chiton was punished in the end."

"Not sure, he got what he wanted."

"Perhaps it's him the gods punished."

"Perhaps too, he courted Adol and had him in his bed for a few years. I like that better." Rand turned to Leto and told him in hushed tones, "You promised me I would have Adol for myself as soon as the play was over."

Leto feigned he had not heard what his page had said; waiting to see what would come next. Rand was a beautiful boy but with a dark soul, the opposite of Focker who was all goodness. The contrasts between the two boys were much more than their appearances and Leto loved that. He liked to see them systematically choose different paths and attitudes; he could play one against the other, which usually resulted in a setback for Focker and great amusement for Leto. They were his favorites of the moment, a position boys usually kept for a few months, and had been for three now.

Goodness did not pay in this world and even less so at his court. Something He had had no need to teach to Rand who, from the start, had shown his attraction for the dark side and was easily cruel with Focker and anyone else. To the point that he was one of his rare favorites, in all these years, that had been allowed to visit the Dark Harem. He was careful not to expose him to the worst of it, at first, but the boy himself had readily understood it was a place of death, and it had not shocked him at all, on the contrary, he had eagerly asked for his first kill. Leto thought that wish would be granted soon. In the next few years, he expected the boy to have a place among those that protected him and looked after his needs, perhaps become a beater who procured Leto with fresh meat. He suddenly realized why, probably, he liked those two more than he liked many of his previous favorites. Actually, both Rand and Focker were very much like himself, Focker the old Leto and Rand the new Leto…who was pulling at his robe sleeve in annoyance.

"I know you heard me!"

Leto answered with a movement of his hand, meant to appease and quiet the boy, who had no reason to pester him; those five pretty boys were going nowhere and would entertain them this same night. They were too appealing to be sent home. Leto would have preferred to spend the night with the prince and his page, but obviously, he had been too presumptuous and rash with him and had scared him away…this was no common boy with whom he could do as he pleased, and he rather liked that. Things were so easy most times; few boys dared resist or even show their displeasure with him. It would certainly end badly for the prince but until then he was sure to offer Leto what he lacked the most. He was a very special boy, one that should last more than a few nights, though he would need to be careful and not get carried away by his dark passions, and end it prematurely. It was as well that both twins were not at his mercy, he would have certainly wasted them in no time. He hoped to be able to experience some of the pleasures they might provide, without restraint and very soon, when Melchior brought him those pair of twins he had promised; it would certainly help him refrain his ardor with the prince.

Now that William was gone, all around, his friends of debauchery were resuming their depraved activities. They had been robbed of the rapes but they would be catching up with the many pages at their disposal. In the end, it was perfect, Leto had five charming virgins for himself that night, well perhaps only four he would lend young Adol to Rand as promised. Anyway, the boy's tool was not that big and it would make no difference when he was to try the boy himself later, he was a lovely little morsel worth a bite or two. Still he could not chase the image of the prince from his mind, but what could he do about that?

Rand was annoyed but confident that he would get what he wanted. It usually ended that way with Leto as long as bad deeds were on the horizon.

He was Melchior's eyes and ears, and had been since he had entered Elysium. It had started with his family who had supported the Archons in secret and provided huge sums of money in the hope of their return. They had always thought they had been despoiled of the throne and that Aluser was nothing but a usurper. Every means at their disposal was to be used to get rid of him and his descendants.

His family had always managed to have at least one boy in Elysium and at court. He knew that many more would follow, brothers, cousins: there were many waiting to serve their cause. He was the first one to become a favorite though and at the best of times when they would soon be in a capacity to topple the king and seize power with their allies. If Leto did not deal with the prince, as he should, Rand was sure to gladly take that task into his own hands.

"My dear Rand, I want to please you, let us leave this place, I have a surprise waiting for you. Focker, go to your room, I will not need your services tonight."

The boy, obviously relieved, did not wait to leave the patio in his turn.

"This night is for the two of us Rand, we are like minded. Even if it is sometimes fun to bring Focker too and see his reaction to our dark deeds. Don't you think?"

"If you brought him to the Dark Harem it would be spectacular but he should not leave it."

"What a twisted idea that is but Elysium boys cannot be treated that way. Come with me to enjoy your surprise."

***

William was still shaken by his confrontation with Leto, he would have never thought he had the stamina to face him like that and even more surprising that he would have the last word. In fact, he saw in the knights and Lucian's eyes a new respect, for standing up to Leto that evening, that wasn't there earlier. He wondered what Tristam had thought of the exchange, he had not been of much help so far.

Tristam soon took over Lucian's mind and body, as if he had been called upon, and William sensing the change, spoke with some pride:

"So, what did you think of that?"

"You did well, my prince, better than anyone could expect. I knew you had it in you but to see it was a great moment. Beware though; it will not always be that easy, Leto and his entourage are dangerous and will try to mislead you. That victory was perhaps only smoke and mirrors. But nonetheless, you performed wonderfully with honor and strength of character. I am proud of you."

"What comes next?"

"That we will see. We must not act too quickly, we must be patient, yet ready to react, we can only wait for Leto's next move, and hopefully, an omen will guide us.

"That is not reassuring; there is so much time until the next full moon."

"Do not be too hurried to get there. Our magic will need that time to be fully effective. You should rest now to prepare for tomorrow."

"I'll do that, or try at least, I don't know if I'll find sleep that easily though."

Lucian's gaze changed slightly and he knew the boy was back with him.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?" asked William expectantly.

"I would have but I promised to join Bertram for the night. I'm sorry," Lucian replied with a bit of a sheepish look.

"Really, are you sure you're ready for that?" demanded the prince somewhat disappointed. "I would have liked you to stay with me on this first night."

"I know, but I could not refuse him, he was very insistent. I will stay if you want me to."

William smiled.

"Yes, it's been some time that he's been hanging around you with an eager face. Come back to me when you're done then."

"I will do that, William." Lucian hesitated not wanting the prince to feel let down and not daring to leave.

"Come on, go. I'm a big boy now. He is certainly waiting for you. I saw Tamerlane usher the two pages into his bedroom; I hope he'll be more quiet than he was earlier and I'll be able to sleep."

"I'll see you later then."

"And don't forget to tell me everything in great detail," he added to the boy's back.

There wasn't a great distance to cross to get to Bertram's bedroom but Lucian took his time. For sure, his duty was with the prince whose needs came first and he felt somewhat guilty to leave him alone. There was something else though; he was excited but also apprehensive and a bit afraid of what was awaiting him in that room. He trusted Bertram to be loving, attentive, and mindful but still he didn't really know if he would like it. He had also something to check first.

"Magus, are you still there? Now is the time to leave me alone."

There was no answer of any kind and after a long pause he assumed Tristam was gone."

In the next bedroom, he could hear faint voices, grunts and moans, the sound of flesh on flesh, a bed creaking. Tamerlane had not lost a minute, he was a big man, a force of nature, who had eaten considerable amounts of food during the dinner and drunk as much without any visible effect on his capacities, and he was having unbridled sex with the two boys. Was that what was awaiting Lucian beyond that other door, should he knock.

The decision was taken from him, the door was opened and Bertram stood there, naked but for a pouch covering his groin. He was not as big, as strong, or as impressive as Tamerlane was but he was handsome with a chiseled and muscled torso and legs. His green eyes looked at the boy with a mix of longing, desire, and reserve. He opened his arms and Lucian came to him to huddle there naturally.

Bertram closed the door and brought him to his bed. Not a word was exchanged. He took away the child's few garments as Lucian saw the man's pouch distended by his growing member.

Bertram kissed him lightly on the lips and the nose, on his chest and nipples, then moved lower to his belly button, avoiding the standing pricklet, caressing the exposed glowing, and satiny skin.

"You came," he finally murmured.

"I did," answered the boy still unsure of himself. He wanted to flee and at the same time was overwhelmed by a desire to please and to embrace those new feelings ready to burst forth.

"You're so beautiful, such perfection, let me honor you as best as I can. Do not be afraid," Bertram had felt the child's uneasiness.

"I am not," the tense child said, then added, "I trust you." Which was true.

Bertram pulled a string and freed his engorged cock: a respectable size and girth.

"I want you, now," he said in an affirmative voice, it was not a demand; he stated a fact and implied that the child had no choice.

"You're my first time."

"I know, I'll be gentle, but I can't wait anymore."

The man picked the pot filled with grease on the bedside table and started to coat his thick rod with it while Lucian wondered why it was going so fast.

"Can't we delay that, do it later, I can suck you," he said, trying to quiet the man's ardor.

"No, this is the only way I'll know you're mine, this is what I want." Bertram raised the boy's legs and got into position between them, "face to face."

He rubbed his greased fingers on the boy's puckered hole pushing some inside and introducing one, then two fingers. The boy winced but the knight was shrewd and savvy, he knew how to obtain what he wanted without real pain, Lucian was far from his first boy, he had known many.

"Be careful," said Lucian nonetheless.

"Do not worry, I know what I'm doing, you're almost ready."

The boy tensed, it couldn't be, he had entered the room no more than fifteen minutes ago, this was meant to be a culmination of the night, it was not right to rush it like this.

After wiping his fingers on a tissue, Bertram caressed the boy's worried brow and his soft dark curls.

"Everything will be fine, you'll see, my little love, you're in good hands."

Already Bertram was at the entrance and pushing while he kissed the boy's ruby lips and similarly pushed his tongue inside his warm mouth. The boy gasped as he felt his innards being invaded. It was a strange sensation and as Bertram had said, almost painless. The knight was certainly gifted, how could he manage that feat? All of the boys Lucian had talked to before had told him a different story, their first time had not been so easy and often also the following ones; there had been pain, grudging attempts, and slow learning. It was as if Bertram was gliding in without effort as if it was the most natural thing, as if it was meant to be so from the beginning. His progress was unrelenting, soon filling the boy up to the hilt.

"That's wonderful Lucian, you're so tight, you're a perfect fit, you're learning fast, I'm in all the way already. Do you feel it? Do you like it?

"I do sir, it's a peculiar sensation, it tingles; I feel it pulsing inside of me."

"No more sir, Lucian, not in my room at least, you can call me Edwin. Now I'll start the real thing, you must tell me if I hurt you, I might get carried away."

"I'm not afraid anymore, I was, at first, but now I'm ready for more, for everything."

"That's good, more is coming," Bertram murmured. Their lips now touching, he kissed the boy softly and repeatedly as he pulled back by half his length. He then raised himself up into a better position, giving a tender kiss on the child's brow. Taking advantage of the now very compliant boy, he slowly raised the child's legs for better access until his knees were pressed into his slim chest. Then he began to slide his member deeper into the boy, bottoming out and retreating again and again. He continued the comings and goings, accelerating the tempo and driving his member ever so deeper with each push. His hands held firmly the child's legs at the knees that were now pushed back to each side of his lovely head, while he drowned his face with kisses. Then without a word, he took the child's hands to replace his own, letting Lucian hold his legs in position. Bertram could now use his freed hands to enjoy and caress the supple forms offered: the firmness of a calf or thigh, the satiny nature of the skin, the silky hair, the elasticity of a nipple, the smooth and stretched buns; all marvels he already knew he would never tire of.

Lucian panted and moaned under the assault, the pounding unrelenting. There was some pain, but it was nothing compared to the exquisite feelings that rocked him each time the man drove his hard member into his hot canal; there was notably a very sensitive spot that he took care to hit with each thrust forward. The sensation was escalating and the mounting pressure–pleasure– was something Lucian had not experienced before. Bertram continued to bear down onto his small frame, as Lucian turned his head to the side and let out a little cry, his hole contracting around the man's shaft, his body now gently shaking, culminating in a wild and sensational orgasm for the boy; his first without touching or playing with his member.

"I see you like it my little love, let's try to make it last."

Bertram took great pleasure in the boy's reaction, allowing him to momentarily catch his breath before he continued gently rubbing his insides with little jabs to that sensitive spot, nudging it to prolong the boy's pleasure. Lucian was now overwhelmed by those strong waves of unending bliss, ready to cry for mercy, to ask for it to end, and at the same time wanting to revel in this incomparable sensation.

"Ah, ah, ahhh, no, ahhh, yes." It was finally ending, ebbing away, leaving the child totally abandoned in his lover's embrace.

Bertram paused to let the boy recover, sliding his member out, but not all the way out. He caressed and kneaded the soft young flesh of the child's thighs and buttocks, while the boy gently relaxed into a perfect state of exalted contentment.

As their eyes gazed upon one another, Bertram leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss upon Lucian's lips before softly saying, "Let's see how many of those you can manage before I get my own reward. Then, as soon as I'm fit again we'll do it again and again, the night is ours my Lucian."

The boy did not answer, his young and tender body swept away by so many wonderful sensations as if inebriated. Only soft moans escaped him, moans of pleasure and a large smile of satisfaction and happiness illuminated his face.

Tristam was totally shaken up by the intensity, the novelty, the wealth of emotions and sensations that he received by the means of the child. For the moment, he certainly did not regret his decision. It was inescapable; he could not disregard or resist such an experience. Magic had brought him many such wonderful moments in the past, but it was waning, going away, no one knew why but he felt it in his bones, in his soul. The spells, the incantations were still effective but there was something lacking as if a mysterious ingredient was not there anymore, it was frustrating and annoying, unsettling. He had spent all his life sheltering himself from a life common to all other humans, now he wanted to explore what he had missed, what he had been shunted from. Since magic did not offer him what he needed, he unconsciously sought a replacement and his merging with Lucian had been the catalyst. He feared he did not have the strength to reject it but he was also very cautious of the dangers it entailed. He had seen himself at some moments not as the boy but as the knight and it was not Lucian that he was making love to, but the prince, William.

***

Leto was not enjoying himself; he had fucked all four of the virgin boys amid their cries for mercy and tears. He had shed some blood too, tearing up two of the tight holes in the process. He had set the pretty Adol apart from the others, to be, perhaps, his last virgin boy of the evening, and thus depriving Rand of his plaything, mocking his expectations and enjoying his bad temper; it was because they were alike that he enjoyed tormenting the lad. He gave him the boy only at the very last moment and watched him exert his resentment on the tousled headed child for a few minutes, having to restrain him when his desires became too extreme. A strange occurrence, he usually did not care about those easily replaceable children, he even often took pleasure in Rand's imagination. They were not in the Dark Harem though, it was not to be the fate of those five; they were just the amusement of the day, for him as well as his guests. The prince had denied them of that pleasure. Was the prince, William, the cause of his dispirited mood? The image of the boy, his words, had not left his mind since his departure.

Rand had understood that his four to five inch young cock could not compete with his Lord's own. It would not inflict the same kind of fear or pain, and he had resorted to Leto's collection of sexual tools to achieve his goal. The lord had an extensive selection from the most common to the most elaborate, from the most pleasing to the most painful for those that were subjected to them.

Leto had had to interfere several times and forbid the use of some of them. While he observed Rand he had lined up the four boys still under his ministrations by his feet, they were aligned on all fours with their rumps held high, some still leaking blood. He played with one or the other and if he felt like it, impaled the boy on his impressive nine inch shaft for a few up and downs. It was a game he was usually fond of, but once again, that night, he found no real pleasure in that or anything else.

Should he go to the Dark Harem and gorge on blood and flesh there, he suddenly recalled that he had promised one of the boys, the dark skinned one, that he would meet his end that same day. It was now long overdue.

No, he did not have any appetite for that. What he wanted was William and nothing else.

"Enough!" he exclaimed suddenly, "Rand, go join Focker, you'll play with your new toy Adol again tomorrow." He then addressed his servants, "Take away those boys and see that they are washed, patched up if necessary, and well taken care of, we might want them to entertain us some more before we leave Belvoir."

A few minutes later, Leto was walking down a secret corridor, his pace determined and eager.

He stopped, bent slightly to peer through a hidden peephole. Then, moving on, he renewed the motion twice again.

Damn, that's too dark; there is nothing of interest to see.

There was no hesitation, he pushed a button and a door opened in silence, then he stepped into the prince's room.

Lovely boy sleeping soundly and alone. His gaze had checked all around. Where are your knights? Well occupied with my pages and your own? So it is only you and me. What shall we do?

Leto took a small vial out of his pocket, opened it, and placed it under the prince's nose. He soon closed it again and put it away.

"You are all mine now, beautiful one, I am free to do as I please."

Leto waited a moment to be sure that the sleeping potion was efficient, and then he pushed away the covers to reveal the slender naked form of William.

"What a lovely sight," he whispered.

He stayed by his side a few minutes, simply peering at every detail, enjoying the delicate and fragile creature at his mercy. The boy had challenged him there had to be a price…

He had seen the knife laid beside him, it brought a smile to his lips. Did the boy really think it could be of any use against him. How naive!

Chapter Seven

Lucian and Bertram were relaxing after their third bout of sex. The boy was resting his head on the young man's muscled chest, the knight was basking in the sensual beauty of the child not yet really believing his luck and success in wooing this wonderful creature. One of his hands played with the boy's tousled hair while the other did not tire of the velvety softness of his skin and of the feel of his firm yet delicate flesh.

"How did you do it?" asked Lucian.

"What are you talking about?" asked in return the bewildered knight.

"You know."

"I know nothing if you don't explain yourself."

"Everybody told me that it hurts the first time. It did not. Well, it was …mostly… pleasant… How did you do it? Did they tell me lies? I doubt it."

"You're right; they did not tell you lies. The first time can be quite painful if you're not cautious and don't make the required preparations, it takes time."

"But you went in at once, you made no preparations."

"That's a family secret."

"Come on, tell me," insisted the boy who poked him in the side with his elbow.

"Ouch, it hurts," mocked the man retaliating with an attack of tickling on the boy's defenseless flanks. It was rather successful as the boy broke out in a fit of laughter.

"I surrender, I surrender, please stop and tell me!" This time he wrapped his arms around the man's neck and kissed his open lips, making it some time before he could answer.

Bertram returned the embrace, wrapping himself completely around the boy's nude body. "A much better way of asking, dear Lucian, I should say."

"Will you tell me? Please."

"And you'll do whatever I ask of you?"

"I will, I promise."

"Good, it's the grease I use."

"The grease? What about it?"

"I've added a substance to it that prevents most of the pain if it is applied before the penetration."

"Well, everyone should use it then."

"Perhaps but as every secret we have to keep it to ourselves, it has some side effects."

"What are they?" demanded the boy suddenly concerned.

"Don't worry; nothing serious. It simply dulls the sensations. I knew that with you it would not be a problem, I have wanted you for so long, with such force. I did fear that I could hurt you without it. One thing I didn't expect is that it allowed me to last much longer and not empty my load in two minutes."

"So there's nothing wrong with it, in fact."

"Some say that pain should be part of the experience, that it shows the love and dedication of the boy to his man. I don't agree, so you can say that."

"Could I borrow some from you?"

"What for?"

"For the prince, he'll need it when Leto decides to… you know."

"Yes, I understand and I think you are right, it should help him. You like your prince, Lucian."

"I love him." He then hurried to add, "Like a brother. I should go see if he is sleeping by now, he felt lonely and perhaps somewhat afraid this evening, he didn't want me to leave his side."

"Very well, go see if he needs anything but come back to me if you can."

"I will," assured the boy, neglecting to dress before leaving the room, his delightful rump winking a momentary goodbye to his lover.

***

Leto was contemplating the sleeping child, listening to his even breathing; he was dead to the world and would be for hours. He was free to do with him whatever came to his mind. William was a beautiful child certainly but the lord's interest was lessened by not having his twin, the pair together would have been much more captivating. He had known so many boys in all these years, many as beautiful as this one, to love, to rape, to torture, to kill, to eat. None had been princes though. What would be this one's fate?

At last, he let his hands course over the delicate skin and shapes, closing his eyes to enhance the sensations they brought him and better appreciate their nature and worth. He felt strangely at peace in this boy's presence, all his desires to hurt and maim suddenly evaporated. The contact with his graceful body was soothing, brought him peace, something he had not known for a long time.

He pulled away concerned. He had come to this chamber with ideas of savagery and brutality. With the child in this sleeping state everything was allowed, he wanted to defile, abuse him without his knowledge; have a foretaste of what would come later when he would be weary of playing with him. Those plans had been well set in his mind since the moment he had laid eyes on him and his brother in the throne room. The boy's outburst and disapproval earlier during the dinner had irritated Leto and justified a retribution of some kind. It had not been possible in front of that audience but now there was nothing and no one that could hold him back.

And still he felt powerless. He opened his eyes again letting his gaze travel from the boy's charming face to his well-proportioned chest with its tempting pink nipples, to his slightly paler nether regions. The boy was erect, perhaps awakened by his caresses, his curved and hard pricklet inviting. Leto was equally aroused one hand now stroking his throbbing shaft under his robes and wondering how he would achieve his pleasure.

The prince's ruby lips and slightly open mouth was a simple and natural receptacle for his seed but what would really please him would be to plunge deep in his bowels and use the satiny sheath hidden in his crack. He bent and pushed the boy onto his side, appreciating the view of his naked and firm ass that he planned to enter. His hand left his demanding member and joined the other, pulling apart the child's fleshy buns to reveal the puckered hole hidden there. Was the boy a virgin? If he was, he risked to tear him apart with his tool's noticeable girth and length. A consequence that had never bothered him before or even been considered.

This boy was a prince but he had also opposed him and had showed an audacity rarely met in his entourage, was that the reason for his hesitation. From his experience, it should have had the adverse effect, enraged him, and encouraged him to be merciless. He was not of the kind to lose his resolve, to doubt. He took what he wanted, not bothering with the right or wrong of it, not anymore… There had been a time, a long forgotten time when things were different but now all that was blurred, all part of an endless appetite for young flesh and blood, what had been a curse, a nightmare that came back at every full moon was now an everyday occurrence, an always-present unquenchable thirst.

So, what was holding him back, he should have already plunged his stone hard member to the hilt in this offered boy cunt if it was what his desires commanded. True he had wanted to have his brother too, identical twins, princes both, at his mercy but it was a foolish dream.

He was suddenly rekindled with old thoughts, sensations, feelings that had slowly disappeared those last few years and months, it was at once dreadful and fascinating, frightening and reassuring. What was happening to him? Should he kiss or should he bite?

His hands were moving again reveling in the touch of the child's skin, marveling at the contours they followed. He was transported back in time; it had been so long since the man had felt love, such a sweet emotion. No, it could not be, this was now a foreign concept to him, something that even his wife and sons, that he visited rarely, could not awaken. Love was no more of his world, he had done so many terrible things; there could be no turning back!

"Who's there?" he whispered, he had sensed a presence at the door.

"What! …What are you doing … What are you doing here? … What are you doing to my prince?" asked Lucian with a catch in his voice; absentmindedly his right hand was searching for the dagger usually at his side, but he was naked and defenseless.

"Lucian, why did Bertram let you go?"

"How would you know that?"

"I know many things, come to me."

They were talking in hushed tones

"What?"

"Come to me, this instant!" Leto was standing up again, imposing, ominous, it looked as if his large frame was filling the whole darkened bedchamber, his steely gaze impossible to hold, "Come if you want to serve your prince, I need you."

Lucian reluctantly moved forward, and as soon as he was close enough, Leto grabbed his arms and lifted his light figure into him, pulling the captive boy into his large chest, wrapping his arms around him, engulfing the boy, restraining him in a most secure manner. Other than to kick his feet, the boy was trapped.

"You must be well stretched and greased, exactly what I need. Leto had undone his belt and let his robe open when he bent forward to grab the boy, and now Lucian was pinned with his hole just above Leto's waiting and engorged member. Before the boy knew what was happening, Leto was pushing two fingers up his rectum, gauging how much work could be still needed. Satisfied, Leto said to Lucian, "You'll be a perfect fit."

"No, please," Lucian had no doubt as to what would be his fate.

"I did not ask for your consent, you serve your prince and he is here to serve me therefore you don't have a say in the matter, I don't want you to make a sound either, you would not want to wake your prince and see him take your place."

Without further delay, Leto aligned his rod and let the child slide down letting it penetrate the boy relentlessly until more than half of its nine inches were in. Despite Bertram's previous intense lovemaking and some lingering effects of the grease he had used, the pain was profound and Lucian had to bite his lips not to let out a scream, tears appearing at the corner of his eyes, which delighted Leto. The soothing effect William's contact had triggered now mostly forgotten. Still, fortunately, the inserted member did not change into the cartilaginous monstrosity that it could sometimes become.

"I'll show you what a real fuck is like, and I'm sure you'll ask for more."

He pushed Lucian against the closest wall and holding him there started to fuck him in earnest.

Soon all nine inches were going in and out of the child's tight chute faster and faster. The remnants of the grease having some effect on Leto by lengthening the boy's ordeal with no end in sight while, fortunately, easing the boy's pain and making it bearable.

"Now, that's good, what a great feeling, you're a gifted child Lucian, I should have climaxed a long time ago," expressed a surprised Leto who had expected a rapid end to his brutal assault. "I've never lasted this long in a boy's ass with such an energetic fuck. I'll need you to visit me often." He was tempted to bite the child's neck while again accelerating the rhythm but refrained from it and kissed him deeply instead. "I think it is coming," he mumbled, while his tongue invaded the boy's sweet mouth.

He left the wall walking back toward the bed, still holding Lucian while maintaining his fucking motions effortlessly and pulling out at the last moment to ejaculate on the child's back and buttocks.

"Ahhh! This one was already exceptional," he exclaimed, "but before leaving I need to make a small offering to your prince, to thank him for lending you to me," he added with a smirk.

Lucian, catching back his breath, relieved that the man's heartless onslaught had ceased and hoping for the burning sensations to stop was not really listening.

Leto scooped some of his spent sperm on his fingers and brought it close to the boy's mouth. Lucian who wished for nothing but for his predicament to stop opened his mouth ready to accept all of the man's demands.

"It's not for you, silly boy; it is for your prince."

Leto turned away from Lucian, his smirk deepening, and brought his finger to William's lips, coating them with it, and then he pulled Lucian to him to scoop some more of the substance and forced it in the prince's mouth.

"Have you done anything with him," he asked Lucian.

"Done, done what?"

"I've seen you with Bertram, have you done anything like that with the prince, has he done it with anyone else?"

"No, he has not. He should be awake. Why didn't he wake up when you put your fingers in his mouth? He is a light sleeper." Suddenly it dawned on Lucian that something was odd, wrong.

"After what I did to you, you still worry for him? I've put him to sleep, he will wake come morning with the taste of my seed on his tongue. A virgin, so you say, that's perfect, I'll take good care of him, like I did to you. Not a word of this to anyone, child, or you'll pay for it, as will your prince and Bertram. Leave me; go back to him now that you've felt what a real fuck is like. I want some time alone with this princely boy before I take my leave. I will not harm him, do not worry"

Lucian thought of refusing; he did not trust the man; he hated him. He wanted to kill him for what he had just done to him, not so much for the pain but more for the feeling of being used and then discarded without any consideration or love; a worthless hole to fill, to play with, to abuse and to shame. The contrast with his lovemaking with Bertram, minutes before, making that feeling even more acute. And then there was the clear menace to William. Still, he knew that even if he had had the means of it, he could not do anything. They were here for a purpose, he had to obey and service that despicable man; he had no other choice.

As Lucian left the prince's bedchamber, he discovered a shadow in the corridor. Bertram was there naked too but with a tightened grip around the handle of his sword that he held high. It was clear that he had wanted to come to the boy's rescue, but like Lucian had been held back by his duties. They had both known that such a situation could occur but they had not expected it so soon, on the first night of their stay at Belvoir. It did not bode well for the future; it was still over three weeks until the next full moon.

The child came naturally to him and once in his arms started to cry softly, he had not wanted to show more tears to his tormentor, he did not want to give him that pleasure.

"I'm so sorry Lucian, I wanted to help you but I stood here in the shadow, incapable of doing what would have been right," he also had tears flowing down his cheeks; he deeply, dearly loved the boy.

"I know Bertram, there is nothing that you could have done, take me to your room, now, away from that monster."

Bertram took him in his arms carrying him like a small child kissing his face and mingling their tears.

***

A dim light was bathing the fortress walls. The battlements were eerie at that hour, looking like porcupines; long spikes were jutting out everywhere to prevent the draks attacks. Balistas had been built and set everywhere to kill them with some positive results. Their base was drowned in a thick morning fog; secret gates were opened letting out battle weary soldiers with shields, long swords, and lances, accompanied by their boys in lighter leather armor, holding their bows and crossbows, small swords and throwing javelins. Following behind was the whole population of Cal Ugol, but for babes and the elderly, for they were already dead, their life taken by a painless poison. Many were equipped with the spikes taken on the battlements to keep the beast at bay and any odd thing that could serve to maim and kill: pieces of armor found on the dead and dying. They were desperate but also determined.

They formed a line in silence moving toward the invaders' still sleeping main camp, and once in position waited for the order to attack. The surprise was the key for any reasonable chance at success. No one hoped for a victory but for an honorable and rewarding death.

At last, the signal was given and they started to march again in good order. First the soldiers behind their large shields protected by armor plates and helmets, each with a boy right at his back, wearing only leather for speed and freedom of movement. The long pikes held by the civilians sticking out of their ranks, forward, backward, and upward, creating hopefully an impenetrable line of defense. At the same time, the main gates opened, and Ator lev, the lord commander at the head of the cuirassed cavalry was leading the charge with all banners out.

The few draks in the cloudy sky and their riders had seen nothing, they were tired of the siege and had had heavy losses; they were not expecting any attack or initiative from the besieged, only thinking of the bloodbath that would end it all with a smile.

After passing the advancing line of soldiers through a large gap left for them, the riding knights deployed, the camp was devoid of any protection against an attack, the invaders confident in their superiority and victory. The sentinels saw the riders coming out of the fog at the last moment, having barely the opportunity to sound the alarm. As the camp was awakening, the knights had entered it like a knife in a pat of butter and started wreaking havoc with the foot soldiers coming after them to complete their undertaking. All of them knew that it was a fight of one against five, but that first wave seemed unstoppable and victorious, hope had been rekindled.

During the night, a few scouts had been sent into the enemy camp to free the numerous captives there. These were the ones that knew better than anyone else did the fate that awaited all of them. As dawn broke, their rebellion was now in full swing, and they brought death and confusion inside the camp among their hastily aroused tormentors and executioners.

Ator lev was the spearhead of the charge slashing left and right, cutting heads and body members, gutting, and piercing. Blood was drenching him and his horse and he was about to reach Salgar's tent when he fell. This was the start of the downfall. The victorious tide of knights and soldiers, gallantly, bravely, charging into the rows of death traders–had suddenly and abruptly changed. Three lances pierced the armor protecting his horse at the same time. The enemy was reorganizing and now on the offensive. Arrows were raining on the attackers, the draks had come into action, trying to breach the rearguard and break their lines. Reinforcements were coming from the secondary camps all around the fortress.

The captive revolt was soon brought to heel mercilessly with their bloody and ripped bodies piling one on the other.

For thirty more minutes, the outcome of the battle seemed uncertain but it was only an impression, it had been decided from the start, the advance stopped, the lines broke, and fighters fell by the hundreds.

The ruse devised to kill as many of the invaders as possible worked to some extent: when overpowered soldiers and boys, mere girls and women feigned to surrender letting go of their weapons and when the enemy came to seize them, they pulled out their hidden knife to slash at them. They died fighting, taking some of the unwary invaders with them but their ploy soon became well known by the enemy, and it was rendered ineffective.

By noon, most of the knights, soldiers, and civilians of Cal Ugol that had left its walls to attack the Alliance camp were dead or dying, and a few, despite their admirable determination, nonetheless taken prisoners.

Salgar, the vampire general, after a moment of panic, felt a great relief. For a short time, he had feared he would be the first of the Alliance to be defeated by the Valeans. Even worse, he had risked what would have been a fatal failure, to lose "the Essence," who had entered the camp the day before with his escort on their way west to Cal Marat.

The siege had been long and grievous; many draks had died on the battlements and many men during the assaults. But, at last, it was over. He gathered some troops and without delay entered the stronghold to take possession of it.

They sent ahead the trasks, which were half boar, half dog, with small tusks. They were the size of an eight-year-old child. They were trained to scout ahead and warn of any threat, but all they found in the main courtyard and then further in the rooms and chambers they entered were dead bodies, wounded men, women, elders, young children who had taken their lives or been sacrificed. The ravenous beasts were soon feasting on their flesh and tearing them apart.

It had been a grave oversight. Salgar, as he saw the grim spectacle, immediately sent orders to call them back. Most of the dead had taken poison and the trasks were ingesting it as they devoured their flesh.

Apart from the dead, the place appeared empty. As his men deployed and explored it further, they found a few Valeans hiding, who probably had refused to participate in the attack or to take the poison. Their fate would be dire. The general could not refrain from feeling some admiration for the ones that had fought the Alliance to the death. He would celebrate his victory by draining some of the few they had been able to capture alive and thus perhaps acquire some of their stamina.

***

Sandor lev thought they were close to the exit now as their torches were reflected in the water runoff covering the passage walls that had accompanied them for the last fifteen minutes. The humidity level was high.

They had gathered at the entrance of the secret passage more than two hours before.

Alina sel had been waiting for them with her eros, Losfend el.

To the captain's surprise, there were also women and children, and a few soldiers with their boys ushering them through the door.

"What is going on," he asked the princess, "Are they coming with us? That's madness!"

"No, of course not. We decided with Ator lev to try to save as many as we could and in secret. Those will stay in the gallery for as long as possible, we have gathered food and there is water available for them, plenty of space too. Once we have passed, they will cave in the roof of the passage, even if the access is found by the Alliance they will not be able to enter and find them. The exit is four miles away and the passage is surrounded by rock. They should be safe till they leave it."

"How could you keep it secret, what about all the others? We have seen so many taking their own lives on our way here."

"It was necessary that no one knew of it, we were very careful about that. A few of those fighting at this moment and probably others, hiding, will be taken prisoner, it is inescapable, and some information would have leaked. Then if we wanted for the enemy to believe we were all dead we had to sacrifice a large part of the population, a difficult decision."

"How were they chosen?" asked Sandor pointing at those passing the door, he found difficult to accept such inequity.

"As usual, rank, chance. We wanted to give them a reprieve, their fate is still not sealed; there is still hope. What would you have done?"

"I'm sorry, you are right, to save even a few would be quite an achievement."

"Why don't you introduce your companions to me now?" Alina said to change the subject.

"Of course, my Lady. They are all good men and boys who will give their life for you, if there is need."

"Let's hope it will not be so."

"This is Astar lev, a captain like me, and his boys Safir el and Pelar el."

"Why two boys? Is one not enough?" she asked.

"They are brothers and twins, Princess, even if it doesn't show, I could not take one without the other," replied Astar, a big man with a cheerful face even in those dire circumstances, his gray eyes seemed full of wisdom.

"We'll take them; they are comely enough but so different, twins you say."

"Yes, they are," answered Astar.

Safir was the taller of the two, brown haired, with a freckled face, brown eyes, and a well-fit body. His brother Pelar was fair-haired with unblemished creamy skin, blue gray eyes. They were both just thirteen.

"This is Lorend el; he has been with me since the beginning of the invasion. I would trust him with my life without a second thought, he has lost his boy this day and comes with Tomen el whose knight was killed too," continued Sandor.

Lorend was a small, stocky man with reddish brown, short hair. He had shaved his head in mourning for his lost Eros. Tomen was by his side, his crossbow slung across his shoulder and was almost as tall. At fourteen, he was a lanky lad with dark blond cropped hair, and a handsome face. You could immediately see the young man he would become.

"And this boy must be Levit el," said Alina taking the boy's chin in her hand, lifting his face to better catch the light, "I had been told of his beauty and it was not an overstatement. Do you produce seed yet, boy?" she asked, clearly charmed and attracted by the child's natural sensuality.

Levit was taken aback by that unexpected, quite abrupt, and surprising question."

"No, he does not," answered Sandor in his place. He easily guessed the meaning that was implied by the question, in her case an Eros had to be prepubescent. The rule was not always respected and there were other ways to prevent a pregnancy but he did not doubt a princess could not expose herself to such a risk.

"You will have to lend him to me in due time, Captain."

"I don't think I can refuse, Princess Alina."

"That is true Sandor lev, you cannot.

"But we will have to take you out of harm's way first," he could not refrain to add.

"You are quite right Captain, let's ride."

After passing the door, leading their horses by the bridle, they saddled up.

Once you had stepped through the hidden door, it gave access to something similar to a large mine gallery, big and high enough to ride two horses side by side with walls made of rock and earth.

As they rode along the gallery, torches lined the walls. On the way, they met groups of refugees, mostly women and children settled in large chambers dug in the rock. But it was not only refugees that were held there as Alina was telling Sandor. The banks of Cal Udol, among the richest of the Vale, had transferred all of their large amount of gold there and you could see stacks of chests filled with it and sometimes piles of ingots glinting in the light of the torches through the apertures.

"One thing they will not put their bloody hands on, for what it's worth," she said with a smile. "As many and powerful as they are, you need gold to run a war."

After a few more minutes, they left behind the gold and the refugees and had to light a few torches themselves as the passage narrowed and darkened. They rode in silence, Sandor at the head of the column and Lorend at the end with three stock horses, which also carried their provisions and equipment.

Two men waited for them at the exit.

"We have scouted around," they said. "you should keep to the forest edge; the way is clear as far as we know it. It seems that all those bastards have gone to join the battle, as well as the draks, haven't seen one in the last hour. Be careful though and stay under the cover of the trees as often as possible."

"We will," replied Sandor who after a salute led the small column along a riverbed toward the nearby forest.

As soon as they were through, the two scouts were undertaking to hide the passage entrance. A few moments later, it had disappeared from sight for anyone who did not know its exact location.

They were all good riders, even young Levit who had known nothing of it only a few weeks before, but you learn fast at that age. He rode beside his lover and seemed to have found again his lovely smile; the man had not seen it often these last days. A sense of freedom had returned and a weight had been lifted from their shoulders, even if they mourned their friends, fellow fighters and all the others dying or already dead they had left behind. They could have been among them, they should have. This turn of events was a godsend.

Sandor sent Astar with his two boys ahead to check for any surprises along the way. He was himself often watching the skies, happy that the canopy of the trees around them was concealing them from any prying eyes up there.

They made a halt two hours later to rest the horses and eat some dried meat and fruits. Men and boys were close together. Astar flanked by Safir and Pelar one on each side, Lorend with Tomen a little bit more apart, they did not know each other well yet and Tomen would be considered a boy only a few months longer. Both had had painful losses and needed some time to become acquainted. Alina, her eros kneeling in front of her, was feeding him bits of an apple like you would a pet, sending glances all around and more particularly in Sandor and levit's direction, apparently still taken up by the child's striking appearance.

Levit, as had been his habit for weeks now, had settled on Sandor's knees, his butt on the man's groin that he rubbed from time to time, his back against the man's strong chest in a sign of affection and in search of reassurance and security. At the beginning, he had been much more wary of the man and his own feelings, ashamed of them, keeping his distance or abruptly leaving his side. It was now a rare occurrence. Sandor knew little of the Takurs but it was certain they had left their mark on the boy. What he knew, as did the boy all too well, was that he had a raging erection and that he saw no easy way to satisfy it in the near future. He kissed the child's neck and pushed him to the side gently to give it some room.

"I could have brought you to climax, Sandor lev, without anyone noticing," whispered the boy with a conniving smile and rubbing his firm buns on the man's muscled thigh.

"I know and I would have loved that, but not in front of the princess. We will try to find a more appropriate moment," he answered, kissing the boy's juicy lips and tasting of the fruit drips still lingering on them. His hand caressed the child's taut and flat belly under the light sleeveless shirt and then came to a rest on his lap, feeling the boy's own erection hidden there and easily discernible, even under the coarse material of his leather shorts. He had to take his mind away from those delectable thoughts and direct it to the more urgent matters at hand.

Sandor was about to reach his goal, then feeling his erection deflate when he learned that Princess Alina had no such reluctance, for she lifted her short skirt in front of them all and let little Losfend slip his head and hands under it to open her pants before starting his task of pleasuring her with his tongue. He was bent over with his cute little butt in the air as she caressed his blond locks and neck.

"He is a gifted boy, Sandor. Is your boy gifted too? He has been taught how to please women and men; perhaps I could lend him to you while I deal with your boy. There is nothing more pleasant or relaxing than those sensations," she sighted. "Don't you think?"

Sandor, like all the others, was shocked by this improper and incongruous behavior. They all knew her reputation of breaking the rules, of having the manners of a man but this was too much.

"I don't think it is the time and place to discuss such matters, my Lady," he retorted dryly. "We should resume our trip. It will take us at least three days to reach the mountains. Then we will have to find the pass Ator lev mentioned and more suitable clothes: furs, to fight the cold."

"There will be no need of that; we are not going over but under the mountains."

"Under?"

"Yes, there is a cavern entrance that will lead to a whole interlacing of caves and tunnels that go from one side to the other, from the Vale to Alsoon, you just have to know your way down there, or you would be lost forever. It is like a true, dark labyrinth."

"And you can guide us through it."

"Yes, I have learned the signs that will take us on the right path."

Five minutes later, they were riding again.

Chapter Eight

William was awoken by a knock on the door. He had a strange taste in his mouth and had some difficulty rousing himself. He was alone and surprised that Lucian had not joined him in the night. He had a smile, thinking that his page must have had a good time with Bertram and stayed with him until morning.

"What is it? Come in," he said.

"My Prince, Sir Gravenese is expecting you in the palaestra. An evaluation of your training in weapons is required," announced Lucian.

"Why did you knock? What time is it?"

"It is late, we must hurry," answered the boy.

William expected Lucian to give him some indication of how he had fared with Bertram but there was nothing, not even a satisfied smile or grimace. It was strange.

"How was your night? You stayed with Bertram?"

"Yes, it was quite…frantic, intense too." A soft smile formed as his lips curled upwards and his eyes opened just a little bit wider.

"I can believe that. Let me dress and I'll join you. I want to know everything."

"You will," said Lucian, trying to put excitement and joy in his answer, but something was off, William knew him too well not to see it.

In no time, he had put on his shorts, tunic, and sandals and they were off in a hurry.

Their usual escort of Silla and Estam were just outside the door waiting. Bertram and Tamerlane were finishing a hearty breakfast, seated at a table that was overflowing with food of all sorts; there was wine, juices, milk, fruit, grains, pastries, fresh eggs, and sliced meats.

"We thought you would never wake up," exclaimed Tamerlane. "You have five minutes to take a bite; we don't want to be too late.

Lucian was now standing beside Bertram who had his arm across his chest in a protective way; he gave him a discreet and affectionate kiss on the earlobe, or was it a lick wondered William. Those two were obviously getting along very well together. So what was wrong with Lucian? Was he feeling guilty about having left his side the whole night? Well, contrary to what they feared he had slept like a stone and not been bothered at all by his absence.

He took a few bites from several of the dishes and pastries and fruits, tasted some of the juices and even the wine; left the milk alone, as he never liked it. He soon regretted that he had no time to appreciate it all, everything looked delicious. It was perhaps better, though, if he wanted to be fit for the training. He did not doubt there would be more of the same for lunch and dinner.

As their little troop was on its way to the palaestra, he was trying to find his bearings and recognize some of the paths they had already used, but once again, he was soon lost and resigned himself to simply follow their guides.

"How was your night Tamerlane?" he inquired, pointing at the two charming lads ahead.

"Excellent, my Prince, those boys certainly know how to entertain. I couldn't tell which one I prefer."

"Luckily, you didn't have to choose."

"You're right, Bertram was occupied elsewhere."

"Did he tell you of his liaison with Lucian?" William whispered, not wanting to be overheard.

"He did and he was enchanted, I am sure you will hear of it," the knight answered confidently.

They were hearing shouts, from young voices mostly; they were certainly nearing their destination.

They passed one more door and arrived in a vast palaestra, it was without a roof, you could see the blue sky above with a few gathered clouds passing lazily by. Most of the ground was filled with sand and surrounded by a gallery from were spectators could watch the action taking place. For the moment it was empty, about twenty boys were present on the sand in very light clothing with a few instructors, Gravenese among them.

There were different areas and equipment to serve different disciplines scattered here and there. For now, the boys were all gathered around two boys wrestling in the sand.

William immediately recognized Rand and Focker. The smaller, lighter, fair-skinned boy was standing his ground despite being at a disadvantage, using agility and cunning instead of force. Rand, the darker boy, was more aggressive and clearly upset by his opponent's evasive maneuvers. They were naked as was the custom.

"They will be setting up the teams, the winner gets the first choice," said a dark haired boy he had met the day before.

"Miniver,"

"Yes, that's me. Who's gonna win? Watch! I bet on Focker."

Against all expectation, the blond boy was taking the advantage but out of sheer strength Rand was breaking free again, a determined expression on his face. They were again facing each other, poised, observing, looking for an opening, a way to unbalance their adversary. They were both beautiful, with a film of sweat and streaks of sand adorning their bodies, and soft, elegant muscles tense and ready.

"Why teams?"

"Gravenese thinks that competition brings excellence and that learning to work as a team is essential during a battle. Watch again! I'm sure Rand will make the first move; he doesn't know how to wait for the right moment. He is too brash for that game."

Indeed Rand was the first to engage again in the fight, going to the right, then to the left. Focker had seen him coming and feinted, Rand fell with his opponent on top of him. Then it went very fast. Rand tried to send his knee into the younger boy's crotch, Focker must have been expecting something like that, he did not need to hear the outcries that came from the other boys, and it did not change the outcome. He moved in time and used Rand's desperate attack to complete his victory.

Both his shoulders were touching the ground. Rand had lost.

All around, the spectators, though not cheering, seemed rather pleased with the outcome. Rand was clearly not the preferred of the two and indeed, as soon as he was standing again he sent a frozen glance to the audience. Most of the smiles instantly disappeared.

"Well done, Focker," said Gravenese, "I did not like that last move Rand. That's no way to try to win a game. Remember that." The man's tone was firm but not offensive. "Focker you can pick your first choice now that the prince has joined us."

The fair-haired boy, after a slight hesitation, and having gauged the gathering of well-fit and beautiful boys turned toward the prince.

"Prince William, I will be honored to have you on my team."

"And I will be glad to join you," William answered graciously.

Rand made a grimace in mockery. What he thought was clear for all, you did not choose a prince, you chose the best competitor if you wanted to win the game.

At the same time, Focker was certain his choice made sense, it brought prestige to his team, and one could think that the prince had benefited from the best teachers and training one could wish for.

"Tully," called Rand.

"Simver,"

"Miniver," as he joined Rand the boy gave a discreet sign to William that meant he was sorry they were not on the same team.

"Corian."

"Etos."

William whispered in Focker's ear.

"Lucian."

The whipping boy joined his prince clearly relieved but he still seemed jittery, looking all around as if a danger or menace was about to jump at him anytime. Bertram had stayed away in the gallery to watch the proceedings and they exchanged longing glances all the time, slightly worried from the boy and reassuring from the knight. Something was definitely going on and very wrong thought William but it was clear those two loved each other and that their night together had forged a strong bond between them.

William did not have more time to think it over. The two teams were ready and Gravenese started putting them through several contests, more wrestling, archery, weapon handling, running, and jumping, but it was only the beginning. All those depended on each team member's individual talent; the afternoon would be dedicated to the real teamwork with a final battle that would count for many points.

William, during the morning could nonetheless learn to know each one of the boys on his team as well as his friendly opponents. Most appeared likable and worthy of esteem, even Rand, who like many showed real talent in many areas. The prince, as Focker had suspected, was not among the least skilled of the bunch and was one of the best at archery, running, and weapon handling. He lost at wrestling against Miniver, who, as cheerful and friendly as he was, proved also to be a formidable adversary. William never saw his defeat coming, in a few moments he was on the ground, stunned, a smiling Miniver above him extending his hand to help him get back on his feet. What he had appreciated from the go was that no one treated him differently than any other boy or let him win on purpose because he was the prince, something more common than you would think at the Royal palace.

Of the twenty participants, well twenty-two counting Lucian and himself, half were quite well trained, the others had only their good will and some basic notions of how to handle weapons or fight and should be kept far from the battlefield. Those, nonetheless, were the first to claim that they were going to war and showing their enthusiasm for the battles to come.

Lucian did not fare too badly either, having benefited from the same training and lessons. He sometimes still appeared distracted but stood his ground and mingled nicely with the other boys.

They went to lunch hungry and eager to resume the games in the afternoon. For a few hours, William, and even Lucian had been able to forget their hardships, past, present and future, to act as any other boy having a good time with his peers.

Gravenese watched them leave and wondered how many would come back from the campaign. Many of them had been chosen more for their looks than their aptitudes. On a fancy, the ten chosen to accompany Leto had become twenty and he knew that it could grow again as the lord saw new pretty faces he wanted in his retinue, he had even discussed taking the choir of Belvoir with him. True, their role was to serve the lord; there was no reason for them to be on the battlefield except if Leto decided otherwise, which, considering his current state of mind was not out of the question. He certainly was no longer the man he had admired, loved, and followed from battle to battle. He still hoped for a change, for the curse to end, but it was more and more unlikely and he wondered how it would all end.

***

Someone in the gallery shared the same views, but he diverged largely on his perception of the boys' compromised future. He saw them all as battle fodder, meat for the Beast, pretty cattle for his vampire allies or at best as future familiars, like those he had met with Olgred.

Melchior, after his dinner with the vampire lord had demanded a precise report of how Leto's own reception and entertainment had unfolded. What he learned of the incident with the prince pleased him greatly. It would not be long before some accident befell him and that would mean the wrath of the king and a conflict among the kingdom armies, opening the way for an easy conquest of Alsoon by the Alliance.

He then decided he could rejoin and enjoy his new acquisition and see if his rushed choice had still been the wise and right one. He was recalling the scene with some satisfaction.

"Here you are my pretty one. Let me get you ready to service me."

The boy, Lichan, ten years old, naked, was in a cage too small for him to stand or lie down; it was by the chimney, where a fire was dying, with only some embers still glowing.

Melchior brought forward what looked like a torture apparatus of some kind on wheels. He went to the fearful child, opened the cage, and pulled him out without care but also without unnecessary force.

"This is where you will spend the next few days, my darling, its purpose is for you to serve me, of course, in the way I like best. I call it the horsey. Which is kind of funny since it's me who will ride you. It is not meant to harm you; it is just made to keep your mouth and backside always available to my desires. Get on it and I'll show you how it works, it is very simple, in fact."

The boy had no choice and came closer trying to understand how to comply with his new master's demand.

Melchior did not wait; he wanted to sample both ends of his new boy toy. He lifted the slight boy and set him in place. The "horsey" was nothing very original, it was a variation of the usual wooden horse torture device, but this time it's main purpose was to immobilize the subject, expose and give easy access to the receptacles of Melchior's cock. The boy was lying on it, head lowered, butt up in the air with his thighs well apart. He was well secured and every part of his body was held in place by straps, everything could be adapted to the size of the subject. Once Melchior was pleased with his work, he added the last item, a ring gag to keep the child's mouth always ready and accessible. Another method was to take out the teeth, something he had done occasionally in the past.

Those boys and occasionally girls had only a functional role for him. They were there to serve and nothing else. He wanted them available at all times and in all circumstances. Their feelings or fate was of no consequence to him. They were like furniture that you could break and replace.

Just putting on the straps and handling the boy had given him a raging erection, all he had to do now was to decide which hole he wanted to try first. The obvious would have been to start with the mouth and end with the ass, but that was not always what he preferred. Since he was in a good mood he went for the obvious, if he produced enough, the boy's saliva would ease his first fuck: as he was not well endowed, and didn't use any other lube than that natural one.

He would start his work on the boy as soon as he had climaxed.

It took him no more than five minutes, first a few passes in the mouth, then a good rub in the ass followed by a finish back to the mouth. It was a fast well-done job, devoid of any affect.

"Swallow my little one; you will be fed nothing else for the next days and longer if you accompany me on our journey east. You must learn to like it, even want it and show some prowess, only then, perhaps, I'll remove the ring gag."

He much preferred a child's mouth than the other end, deep throating was his passion. In fact, he sometimes overdid it. The previous occupant of the horsey had learned it the hard way, he had forgotten to pull out in time, and the girl had turned blue and died. Not much of a loss, he definitely preferred boys. He hoped Lichan would stay with him for a few months. He would spend his days and nights on the horsey, always ready to be used in any way that pleased his master. Only once a day, one of Melchior's servants would free him for an hour, wash him, feed him, make him walk some and give him an enema.

"I might feed you some more later, when we are done. I hope you are still hungry. Your hunger, pain, and despair will feed my magic."

Melchior took some instruments from a small cupboard and started chanting while he set to work.

Two hours later he was done. The boy's back was covered in strange writings and sigils.

"From this day, your body and suffering will be my vessel to enhance my magic abilities, to fight the waning of its influence on all things. If I could use twenty, one hundred subjects like you, what terrible things could be done, but I can only use one at a time." He took his Archon stone and pushed it up the child's rectum; letting the small beaded collar, used for holding the stone, hang out, for an easy recovery the next morning." Keep it safe there; infuse it with your sorrow. I'll retrieve it tomorrow. Be careful not to let it slip out or else…"

Melchior believed this boy would be perfect; his choice had been the right one. He needed him to be resilient to endure the hardships of the next months but also sensitive and rich with emotions that would feed the stone.

As he watched the prince leave the palaestra, he was playing with the stone hanging around his neck: it had retained the heat of the boy's innards and was vibrant with power. Yes, nothing would stop them now and all his efforts would soon come to fruition.

***

Levit felt the captain's hard shaft penetrate slowly, filling him inch by inch. It had been so long since the last time they had been together that way. The feeling was intense, a mix of shame and slight pain soon overtaken by love and pleasure: physical as well as spiritual. The need to belong, to be part of a bigger whole, to feel protected, taken care of, but shame still, for sin, turning his back on his father's teachings, on his gods. That guilt lingered, mitigated by the last weeks of fighting, mayhem, and slaughter. Why follow any gods rule if they had abandoned you and all their worshipers.

Sandor's heavy breathing and strong arms were reassuring; Levit knew the thrusting would come, unrelenting, fast and then slow, shaking him, and they would be as one, joined by flesh and love, until the man's seed erupted and his member became limp. With the hope that soon it would harden again and that they would be making love anew.

They were in a barn hidden from the others. The farm they had found when night was falling had been spared so far. Its inhabitants afraid and not knowing what they should do: stay or try to run away. They had given their bedchamber to princess Alina, her escort had settled in the barn taking turns to be on watch.

Sandor, as soon as they had finished eating had taken the boy by the hand and found a place for them in the hay, away from the others. He had undressed the boy, kissing and caressing each uncovered part of the young boy's slender body. Marveling at the smooth skin, letting his hands roam all over it, digging his fingers in the firm and supple flesh, feasting on it. He then hurried to undress, helped by the boy, to be skin to skin, to grind his engorged member on the child's twin mounds. getting ready to enter him while he stroked the responsive cocklet.

The boy was always the one to give the signal with a sign or a few words that he was ready. He had been well used to the penetrations, but now, after a long time without, there was some apprehension. He arched his back in preparation of the assault. Sandor was passionate, his lovemaking was vigorous and enthusiastic even if he was careful not to hurt his young partner and tried to share his pleasure. He was a well-educated knight but also a warrior with the scars on his body to prove it and with steel muscles that pinned the boy under him. He was what every boy of the Vale wanted to become. Levit had learned in his short time among the soldiers and knights that not all men were concerned for their boy's well-being. It was the tradition for the boy to serve and for the man to be satisfied. He was lucky to have found Sandor or rather that the captain had found him.

He was on all fours, his rump in the air, rocked with every thrust of his lover's shaft. The not so old sensations were all back. The thrill, the friction, the tingling, the pulsing, the particular smells that mixed with those of the barn, the weight on his back and buttocks, the hands that, caressed, kneaded, played with him, the mouth that licked, kissed his back, his neck, his face…Everything was forgotten but those feelings.

Suddenly Sandor pulled out of him and he was turned around, to be face to face with his captain, lover, master, their gaze lost in each other, blue and green eyes wide open. His legs were brought up, his knees level with his shoulders, abandoned, defenseless, his gaping and pulsating hole exposed. They stayed like that for a few seconds, before he was impaled again in one go by the man's slick rod. It announced the last rush and the imminence of his lover's release. They almost climaxed at the same time, the boy a few seconds before the man, his muscles contracting around the shaft and enhancing the experience for both.

"Ahhh, it had been so long," murmured Sandor. "It was as good as the first time, you were so tight. Did I hurt you?"

"No, Sandor lev and I wanted it as much as you did. I am a sinner, it is hopeless," he added with a smile.

"My preferred sinner, for sure. I can't get enough of you. Whatever your gods could say or do, I would make love to you all night, but as you well know, we must be rested and fit in the morning, we will be the last on watch duty." As he talked, Sandor was caressing the boy's face and sweet lips and rubbing his semi erect cock against Levit's well-formed thigh.

"Princess Alina is a strange woman."

"You're right, my pretty one. I had heard of her reputation but even so, we, soldiers, were shocked by her behavior. It seems she has no shame and only does as she pleases. Let's hope she will be more responsible concerning the success of our journey, for the few days she will be with us."

"Her eros is not shy either; he did not hesitate to go under her skirt in front of all of us."

"He is a cute one and she obviously trained him well."

"What do you think she wants of me?" asked the boy showing some concern.

"Probably the same thing I want from you at this moment," answered Sandor showing his restored erection, "but without the love that we share. Can you take care of me, bewitching boy?"

"Certainly," and without one more word, the boy brought his ruby lips to the stone hard shaft to kiss it, lick it and engulf as much of it as he could while using his delicate and skillful hands to stimulate the man's heavy balls.

"You'll have to hide your talents when you are with the princess or I'll never see you again."

Sandor was then silent, enjoying his precious boy's mouth, lips and tongue, and letting one hand rub gently Levit's own erection.

It was early morning; the sun had risen on the horizon. The captain and his boy had been roused an hour earlier by Tomen who had found them entwined together and still naked. The young adolescent, almost a man now, had felt a sharp pang, recalling his own lover, killed by an arrow a few days before.

Sandor and Levit had dressed in silence and gone to an observation post at the top of the barn. From there you could have a good view of the surroundings from the forest edge, not far on their left, to the fields on their right, as well as the pens and the farm main building, a two story wood structure in a style typical of the Vale.

It was a strange feeling for both of them to find themselves, alive, in such a tranquil setting after the weeks of unrelenting blood and fury in Cal Ugol. It was unsettling; it was as if they did not belong there. There was also the memory, faces of all those they had left behind, certainly dead by now; it was a heavy burden with some guilt attached to it.

After a few minutes, Levit laid his head in the man's lap and closed his eyes. Even after a night of sleep, they were all still exhausted. Endless fighting for weeks and a full day riding through the forest had taken its toll. Sandor let him rest, content to simply watch the sleeping child, his fingers playing with his dark silky curls when his eyes were not scanning the countryside all around.

His soldier's instincts were honed by years of fighting: the Valeans were querulous people always fighting with each other; skirmishes between Houses were common for usually futile reasons. They soon told him something was amiss. He was watching attentively the forest border, but so far, nothing had comforted his hunch. He had the chance of owning a field glass, a recent invention made in one of the academies of the kingdom of Alsoon, which gave him a better view of the landscape.

"Levit el," he was shaking the boy gently. "Wake up boy."

"Is it time? Already?"

"No, not yet but I fear that there is something amiss."

"What did you see?"

"Nothing yet but I will not wait any longer. Go wake everybody, have them get ready in silence."

"Get ready for what?" Levit was sending his gaze everywhere looking for a clue, something that would tell them what it was all about. He certainly did not doubt Sandor's words. The man's hunches had saved them more than once before they had reached Cal Ugol. "Do we run or do we fight?"

"That I don't know yet. Go!"

Five minutes later, Astar was joining him, finishing lacing his jerkin.

"Sandor lev, still no idea what is awaiting us? Your boy interrupted a lovely moment with the twins, first time I had two boys at once. You have to try that if you have not done it yet."

"I'll think of it when we've reached our destination." He gave the field glass to the big man, "Look at the forest edge, there's a big oak beside a rock outcropping. You'll get your answer."

"What are those things?"

"We call them heartless. We met a few of them on our way to Cal Ugol. They walk on two legs but run on four. Leave no survivors, they kill and eat. They are big and strong but not too smart. You have to stay out of reach of their arms; if they catch you, they can tear you apart. They also have a very strong jaw with fangs. They must have been humans a long time ago, like those vampires, but not anymore. They can use weapons but usually don't."

"So, the only question is how many of them are hiding in that forest."

"I would say not too many. They would have attacked by now."

"Can we fight them, is it worth the risk? We cannot afford to lose any one of us; we're still far from the mountains."

"You're right, but they don't know we are here. Send one of your boys to warn the farmers and the princess. Have him walk there as if he was a farm boy getting ready to do his chores. They must not see his crossbow. We will wait until they attack. Our boys never miss their targets; most of those things will be dead before they reach the farm. If we left, we would lose the advantage, the surprise; they would see us and could follow us. They move fast. It would be better if we killed them all too, we don't want any word of our presence to go around."

"It would be nice if we knew how many of them there are."

"I fear we will know that only when they come out of the forest. By the time they get to the farm, our boys will have fired four or five times, they are that good, as you know. That makes at least fifteen of them that will be hit."

"If they keep coming."

"Yes, you're right, we should wait till they are all out of the woods, at the same time if they turn back, it will still give our boys some more target practice. We should be ready to give chase and finish off as many of them as possible."

"And if one hundred of them are hiding in there?" asked Astar pointing at the forest.

"Horses will be ready anyway; we will simply go in the opposite direction. Send your boy with all those instructions; I'll go down as soon as I see them come out."

Sandor, a few moments later, observed Safir leave the barn in a casual way, pushing a wheelbarrow where his weapons were concealed under a tarp and not sending the slightest glance around as if only preoccupied by his chore. He knocked on the main door of the farmhouse and entered, taking its contents but leaving the wheelbarrow outside.

Immediately there was some activity beside the oak tree, several of the heartless showing up in turn, it would not be long before they decided to attack, thought Sandor.

Thirty minutes later the situation was still the same, nothing had happened. There was some concern, the sun was now well above the trees and everyone was wondering what the heartless were waiting for. Reinforcements? That would be a real problem. Most of the Alliance forces were certainly still at Cal Ugol but they were also everywhere, the worst was always possible, Sandor had learned that the hard way.

He was about to leave his observation post and confer with Astar and Lorend, when they, at last, came out of the woods. He counted eighteen, more than he expected.

Everything was ready to welcome them, Pelar, Tomen, and Levit had their crossbows ready. Levit was the less experienced of the three but had learned fast, his main difficulty being younger was to reload as fast as the others did. It was a much slower process than with the bows that the men would use; you could hope, at best, to send two bolts every minute but the weapon compensated the lack of strength of the young boys and were very accurate. The goal was to avoid direct contact with the enemy as much as possible. It would come only at the end if some of the heartless reached either one of the buildings or tried to escape. The barn door had been left wide open by Safir, and with the sun rising at the opposite end, they were in the shadows invisible from the outside. Sandor was confident all would go according to plan; he was with the most competent boys and men he could count on.

"Wait…Wait…"

The heartless were coming slowly towards them, assured that nothing could stop them and that they would soon gorge on the farmers' flesh.

"Hold it some more…and…now…let them fly."

None of the three bolts and three arrows missed their mark: five of the creatures were on the ground, one still standing wounded, it was felled a few seconds later by a fourth bolt coming from the farm, Safir's.

The heartless, after a moment of hesitation separated into two groups, each one rushing at a different building.

Before they had reached either building, seven more had fallen. Only five were left. Most were going for the barn, where they suspected was the main force that had surprised them.

"Shield and sword," ordered Sandor. "Boys fall back."

While moving back, the boys sent one more volley of bolts. Only two heartless reached the barn door one of them wounded. It lunged forward in a desperate attempt to maim and kill at least one of its opponents but to no effect. Lorend warded him off with his shield and with one large motion embedded his sword in the creature's skull. It kept twitching but it was dead. The second one jumped over its body determined to take at least one of the Valeans with him in death. A bolt pierced his brow sending him back out of the barn.

There was still one beast alive that was trying to break the door of the farmhouse, and it was now outside Safir's shooting range. Would the door be sturdy enough to resist it? Sandor was about to call the boys forward to eliminate that last menace when something totally unexpected happened.

"What the hell, she's crazy!"

Princess Alina had jumped from a window and was charging the heartless. The Beast had smelled or heard her and was soon facing her. Safir had appeared at the same window in his turn, he obviously wanted to shoot his bolt, but the princess was between him and his target, moving, feinting with it, it was too hazardous.

"What is she doing?" asked Astar, incredulous.

She was kind of dancing around it; she was playing with it, teasing it, infuriating it. It lasted for a few moments, and then it was fast and rather spectacular. She slipped under and between the creature's legs, her sword was a light one compared to those the knights handled but it was razor sharp and as she stood up again behind the heartless, it was clear it had been gutted, spilling its intestines to the ground. As if that had not been enough, Safir had finally shot his bolt safely, hitting it in the right eye. Incredibly, it did not fall right away, not until the princess kicked it with her foot.

Sandor was furious, she had no right to risk her life when so much was at stake but he could not refrain from getting a whiff of admiration for the foolish woman."

"What did you think of that," she asked him when they came closer.

"I think it was stupid and pointless, my lady."

"I was sure you would say something like that. Didn't you…

She had no time to finish her sentence. Horns were sounding coming from the forest. Sandor's face turned somber.

"Vampire horns, I know them all too well. Safir, Alina, run. Everyone to the horses!"

"What about the farmers?" Alina took the time to ask.

"There's nothing we can do for them. If they have some good sense, they'll try to flee or hide somewhere."

Fortunately, the horses were saddled and ready to ride. They opened the double doors at the other end of the barn and were gone at full gallop through the fields.

Let's hope they don't have a drak with them, prayed Sandor.

Chapter Nine

It seemed Rand had chosen to stay on the defensive, his troops hidden behind a palisade fence.

Focker and his team were on the attack, "Shields!" he shouted out.

The eleven boys to his right side left their concealment and formed a shield wall to protect their two archers and captain. They were now on open ground and easy picks for Rand's own archers if the shield wall was ineffectual. They began moving forward at a steady pace, with the sun beating down on them. Their formation made a circular arc, at the center was William flanked by Salt on his right, who was a medium sized boy with tousled, mousy dark hair and a face that showed a permanent ironic expression. On his left was Corian, with long, black, rather wild hair, and inquisitive looks. Lucian was at the extreme right of the formation with little Outol beside him. Little, not because of his age but his size, he was the shortest boy on both teams, with dark blond locks and pale skin. From behind them, there was the twang of a bow letting go of an arrow…it answered the thuds that had resonated on their shields from the adversary's volleys. It was Simver's bow that had responded, an outgoing boy whose dark blond hair was adorned with white spikes. His shot was accurate, finding Tully, a lanky boy, with flaming, long red hair, the tallest participant of them all, the blue paint–their color–contained within the fragile tip of the blunt arrow splashed his shoulder. He had to leave the fight, head down. A sudden cry of victory spread across their ranks.

It was quite premature thought William who stayed silent and concentrated. All the boys wore light leather armor and helmets with visors to avoid any risk of injury.

Coordination was essential to ensure their success, and so far it had worked to perfection. Everyone had found their place without delay, the shields were held in the right position, even by little Outol who had showed some difficulty earlier. They were all moving in lockstep, advancing with a menacing beat. They had been allowed one hour of training before the start of the game, it was enough. Focker had taken a risk by leaving their camp and flag undefended but he had obviously good reasons and trusted his archers to stop any surprise attack from the other side.

They were getting to the second concealment area and had not lost a single fighter. One third of the ground was now behind them. They broke the line at the last moment and by groups of three and four found refuge behind half buried palisades.

"Good shot Simver," said Focker, to a very pleased boy.

"Mostly luck, I would say," he replied, while scanning ahead for another opportunity to eliminate one more adversary.

"How many arrows did they waste?" asked William.

"I would say six to eight, far from enough to let us relax, and the closer we get the easier it will be to pick us off," said Focker, with a furrowed brow.

Each camp had two archers each with ten arrows.

"Too bad Tully didn't have a bow; the next move forward would have been much easier. What do you think Rand's plans are?"

"He is waiting for us, thinks our numbers will be much reduced when we reach his camp. He must be enraged by now, he is the one that lost one of his fighters, and a good one, Tully is good with a sword and has a much longer reach than any one of us."

Besides their shield, each boy had a short sword by his side coated in a substance that would leave a trace of blue as soon as it touched an opponent.

Gravenese and three other knights watched the proceedings closely from the gallery. They would be the referees and also register the strategies and actions of both parties as well as the behavior of each boy. Their findings would be shared and discussed with each team and participant once the game was over.

"Do you think being enraged might cause Rand to make a mistake," suggested the prince.

"I would not count on that but who knows?"

Twang!

Simver had let go of another arrow and a blue splash of paint appeared on Etos' thigh, a pretty blond boy of medium size with a clear complexion and glossy skin; one of Rand's archers too.

"I knew I would get him," exclaimed Simver, "he doesn't know how to conceal himself when he looks for a shot."

Poor Etos was on the ground holding and massaging his shapely thigh, he knew he was up for a good bruise and something far worse: everyone could hear Rand's rant against him all over the arena, and being on his wrong side was something always to be avoided.

"For sure, there's someone who is not happy, over there. Perhaps we could let Simver do the job and take them out one at a time," joked William.

"That wouldn't be as much fun. Now we've got a real advantage, let's move forward!" said Focker, with a determined face, "Shields boys! And let's give them the taste of our swords."

Two minutes later the shield wall was formed again and they were marching toward their goal. The enemy flag would soon be theirs.

Simver removed one more opponent, a boy called Atol with dark satiny skin and hair and almost at the same moment, Outol was hit and had to leave the game crying. He had put so much effort to hold his place despite his size.

As Outol fell back, Lucian was exposed for a few seconds and two arrows one after the other hit his shield as he was closing the formation. He was unscathed.

They were getting close to the enemy and they would have to break their ranks to pass the obstacles behind which Rand and his team were hidden. They had the advantage of numbers, ten against eight, and could hope to see Simver and their second archer, Flint, take out a few more boys. Focker, despite his clear advantage and his desire to fight it out was taking his role of captain very seriously and rather than charge ahead, decided to play it safe, ordering to keep the formation and to get around the enemy defenses to the right. He knew that Rand could use the occasion to send one or two boys running to try to capture their flag but he counted on his archers to prevent it and was confident they would not miss. He warned them again to be on the watch.

As Focker began the flanking move, Rand, seeing the maneuver and knowing they would be exposed, quickly ordered his troops to charge forward in a last ditch effort to overtake their formation. It was an unexpected move. With raised swords, and shields in hand, the boys engaged. It was now a melee.

Lucian, who was the spearhead on the right, had passed the enemy defenses and was now in sight of the enemy flag. As the others were engaged in hand-to-hand battel, he saw an opportunity: he was a fast runner and knew he could reach and capture their flag before anyone could stop him. He let go of his shield and started his run for the flag.

It was a trap. Rand's last archer, Sater, was waiting for him, well concealed, his arrow hitting him in the chest. He was out of the game.

The battle had closed in and it was too risky to let arrows fly; it was now time to drop his bow and pull out his sword. Running forward into the fight, Sater let out a loud and continuous yell; the odds were now better as the boys clashed.

Rand and Miniver had led the attack on the shield wall: leaping up and sprinting forward, they were excellent fighters, with the strength to overpower the smaller and less experienced boys. Working together, they thrusted forward, rapidly breaching the shield wall and quickly taking out Salt and Corian while stopping Simver and Flint's arrows with their shields.

William, helped by Focker, was now facing them with the ranks on each side locked in battle. Rand had right away focused his assault on the prince, it was savage and efficient but William held his ground in front of the bigger boy despite this slight disadvantage. He had been well trained. Miniver and Focker were also showing an evident prowess. The short swords coated with the colored substance were kind of slippery and did not respond as usual which was an unexpected difficulty they had all mastered fast. The outcome was uncertain. Around them many had ceased to fight with a trace of blue or green on some part of their body. Most of them were the least trained of the pages enrolled in the expedition only for their looks on a whim of Lord Leto.

Simver had stood back, not participating in the melee. He was not very good with a sword and had used his last arrow to take out Tassim who was the only opponent boy left on his way to the enemy flag. After a last look around, he started running as fast as he could but was seen by Miniver who left Rand alone to try to stop him. He was too late and in a moment Simver was holding the flag, the horn signaling their victory was blowing.

Rand had a small grimace but accepted his defeat, the afternoon was not over yet and there would be many occasions to win the return match.

Everybody was taking off armor and helmet, washing away the paint traces, there would a pause of a few minutes and a debriefing by Sir Gravenese of each team. Beverages and food were offered by Silla and Estam.

Etos was putting some balm on his thigh; he was very keen on his appearance and yearned to become a favorite. He was devastated when Lord Leto left the gallery from where he had been discretely watching the last minutes of the game and certainly seen his failure.

Leto reappeared onto the arena, passing between two decorated columns of the palaestra; he was closely followed by Melchior and an unusual escort, all in black. Passing by the boy and sensing his distress, Leto gave his blond locks a gentle caress.

"You did well Etos, like all of you boys, you still have time to hone your skills and fighting techniques, we will not reach the Vale before two to three weeks, if all goes well." He was in high spirits and was surprised himself by his gesture and words. "Ah, Prince William, you showed how well you handle a sword, I hope that the disagreement of the previous evening has been forgotten."

"It has, my Lord," answered William with a slight bow.

"Good, I don't want to see any discord between us; I should have known you were not used to my court excesses. I'll be more careful in the future."

"That's considerate of you, my Lord."

"Lucian, poor boy, I saw you fail, but the intention was right. You will join me in a few minutes and I'll show you a trick or two that could help you in such a situation."

The boy cringed inwardly at the man's words, but what could he do? He looked around for Bertram, who fortunately was nowhere in sight. At least the knight was safe and would not be tempted to try anything foolish.

As Leto was mingling with the boys, all smiles, he could not resist touching any part of their bodies that he fancied. "So many beautiful creatures, Melchior, and each one of them devoted to my enjoyment. Simver, you've earned a place in my bed this very evening, this will be your first time I think."

"Yes, my Lord, that's an honor."

"Well earned, I tell you. Unfortunate that I have duties calling me, I would have gladly spent the remainder of the day with you dear pages. Train well and you will make me proud. Lucian come with me, it will not be long."

William was surprised and tried to exchange a look with his friend but without success. There was definitely something wrong with him.

"Can I join you?" he asked Leto.

"No, I want a word with Lucian alone, a little secret I want to share with him, if you don't mind."

"Do as it pleases you, Lord Leto." William forced himself not to show his worry, he did not like Leto's smirk with his answer. Lucian said nothing and joined the lord as they disappeared down a walkway.

***

The boys were congratulating Simver for his good luck.

Be sure to be well prepared, you know the size of our lord's tool," counseled Focker.

"I can help you," suggested Rand, "I got all you need to stretch your hole and from the lord's collection." William didn't know if the proposition was sincere or sarcastic.

"What about you, Prince William?" asked Miniver as an aside. "Handsome as you are, you will have to share his bed sooner or later. I would gladly help you get ready," his cheeks quickly showing some pink, despite his tan, at what he had just said. He hastily continued, changing the topic as if nothing of the sort had been said, too embarrassed himself by his words. "I don't like that Melchior, a seedy guy; he is way too often by our lord's side."

Indeed, William also had a bad feeling concerning the nondescript bald man that accompanied Leto with his small inquisitive eyes, he always stayed behind as if he didn't want to intrude on anything but William wasn't fooled. Four heavy bodied men had been escorting them, not of the purple guard; they were dressed all in black with hard and ruthless faces. Knowing that Lucian was with that group gave him shivers. He tried to concentrate on Miniver's words, who would have been a perfect match for him but it was unfortunately impossible. He was to dedicate himself to Leto and no one else.

"Sorry, but that role is already taken by Lucian who serves me well, but I heard you and I'll consider your proposition, it is worthy of my attention. I like you Miniver. I'll tell you if we can go further than that as soon as possible, as you just said I have other duties to attend to first."

The prince was used to decline such demands. It had happened often these last months; this time he had to admit he would have gladly accepted and without hesitation, now that Lucian had found his knight. Was that in fact the reason for the boy's strange behavior this morning? Why had he been singled out by Leto? What did the lord want from him? He very much doubted he wanted to teach him anything.

***

General Salgar was in the presence of "The Essence" for the first time. He had bowed before him as soon as he had entered the tent. In preparation, he had sated himself with two boys just beforehand and hoped that would be enough to prevent him from any temptation.

The boy was beautiful, of course, almost naked, dressed only with necklaces, bracelets and a soft gold belt which partially covered his groin. There were no vampires in his guard for a good reason, the richness and allurement of his blood was extremely strong and filled the whole place with its particular aroma. He was just twelve years old and had been born a few months after the Archons had left their island of Tacumar to start their conquest of the world.

They had been bored, it was said they had arrived through a magic portal hundreds of years before, no one really knew from where they came from. They looked human but they were not, they were said to be immortal. During that time, they had been gods for those under their rule, bringing wealth, power, magic but also brutality and cruelty. They had created new species from the human and animal stock at their disposal: the vampires, of course, but also the draks, the heartless, the trasks, the ogres, the synths and many others. They lived in opulence and satisfied all their whims. They were stranded, the portal that had brought them here had closed, and one of their goals had been to reopen it. They enrolled the wizards to their cause and taught them previously unknown and powerful magic, producing startling and amazing results, yet all attempts at reopening the portal had failed.

"The Essence" had been part of those attempts. He had been sired by an Archon and precise instructions had been left as to what uses he would fulfill. He was the real reason for the present offensive; he was to be brought to the grave of the last Archon that had fallen. He was to be offered as a sacrifice and his precious blood was to be spilled on its remains.

Some said it would bring the Archon back to life, others that it would reopen the portal to let his disciples join the gods on the other side and offer this world to their domination once again.

Salgar wasn't sure of either. In fact, he wasn't even sure he wanted anything like that to happen, satisfied as he was of their conquest of the Vale and soon, he was sure, of more kingdoms. They would soon have more power and blood than they could consume in a thousand years. They did not need magic anymore. They were strong enough now; and anyway, magic was leaving this world. Had it been brought to this world by their masters, he wondered? Since the demise of the Archons, the wizards had witnessed it waning year after year. They had needed the efforts of three hundred of them to open the portal near Cal Marat and now those wizards were close to useless, barely capable of creating a spark to light a fire. No one knew if their magic could be restored one day. It was clear that the Valean's Magi were also largely powerless and he supposed it would be the same in Alsoon.

"Are you well cared for Hegron? Tell me if there is anything you need and it will be provided."

"All is well general Salgar. My only desire is to be reunited with my father as soon as possible." The boy's voice was as sweet as his blood, his moves and expressions as graceful as his whole being. It created an irrepressible hunger in the general.

"All in good time, be sure that it will only be weeks now before your wish becomes a reality."

Salgar took a step back, he knew he could not resist much longer. The Essence's guards moved slightly forward to block any attempt by the general to get closer.

"I need to leave you now, your grace. I cannot stand your overwhelming presence any longer, excuse me."

"You can go then general," said the ethereal boy while taking a delicacy from the platter in front of him. "But come see me again as soon as I we can be on the move again."

Salgar rushed out of the tent to stop at the first cage holding some Valean boys and grabbed the first one that he could reach, he drained him by half in one go, barely quenching his thirst. The forgettable child had lost consciousness and he let go of him without a look back, letting his men take care of the body.

"That will do for now. I have much better fare waiting in my tent."

***

"Bend over Lucian, all those pretty boys have aroused me to the point my cock could burst out of my breeches by itself. Once again, you will have the honor of bringing me some relief."

Unceremoniously, Leto pushed the child onto a bench, just after being out of sight of the palaestra and taken away his only garment, a simple loin cloth, the boy had shed off his leather armor a moment before Leto's appearance. He was now naked in front of Melchior and the escort.

"What a lovely behind you have, don't you think Melchior? I tell you, gods have made boys to serve us, men. Perhaps you'll want a go yourself my friend, once I am done, I can only recommend it. This one is a delight and I love his defiant attitude." As one hand freed his giant rod, the other played with the boy's glossy buns. "Too low I would say. Child, straighten your legs and level up that ass of yours so that you can receive me in a more convenient manner."

Lucian with a tense jaw complied preparing himself for the onslaught.

It came as the previous evening without warning or preparation and he barely held back a shout of pain, hating himself for the tears that came to his eyes. Tristam, please, do something. I won't be able to bear it much longer. There was no answer. You deserted me, like yesterday, shame on you!

It felt like his insides were being ripped as the lord's member entered him, the stretching of the flesh and the burning friction this time not attenuated by Bertram's soothing grease. After only a few thrusts, his knees let go and he fell back down on the bench, as a consequence, Leto's cock slipped out as it spewed forth its seed splashing his back as the arrow had done earlier with the green paint on his protected chest.

"Lucky boy, I never shot that fast. I should chastise you for not enduring it as I demanded, but well, it was still very pleasurable. We need to find a way to meet once a day, at least till I find the time to replace you with your charming prince. I cannot take him in such a shameful way, he'll want and need some more consideration; even if there will not be that much difference in the end." He turned toward Melchior. "What do you say? He is all yours."

"I'm afraid we are late my lord. This visit to the arena was not planned and there is no time anymore to go where you wanted. I'm sorry but the king is waiting."

"This is annoying but coming here was also very pleasant, in a different way, and I do not regret it. It is only a small setback we will find some time later."

"Certainly, my lord."

"You can leave, Lucian, and return to the arena."

The boy rose from the bench and picked up his loincloth, feeling Leto's sperm running down his back.

"Wait," Leto pulled a tissue from a pocket and wiped Lucian's back, "let's not leave any trace if we want to keep it our little secret. Don't you think?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Go, now, hurry back. You don't know it but you and your friends may have saved a life or two, just by keeping me here longer than I intended. Melchior, have you found any pair of…you know what…for me?"

Melchior waited for Lucian to be on his way before answering, showing his disapproval without putting it into words. It was not wise to talk of the dark harem and their affairs there in front of that boy, even in veiled references.

"Only one has been secured so far, but more will be found, I do not doubt it. The price we pay will be a great incentive."

"I do hope so; one pair will be gone in no time when I am in the mood. Twins, that could help me find my hunger for blood again, I've not been myself since I arrived here."

"Yes, we'll need to remedy that lack of enthusiasm."

"The king has been waiting long enough; let's go to that council now. News from the Vale, I want to hear that. Let's hope that informant is reliable and that we will learn something of value."

***

They were following a trail in the forest; they were not at full gallop anymore but were going at a trot. Astar had stayed behind to know if they were still followed, they were waiting for him to catch up with them.

"Do you think the farmers escaped too or perhaps they found a place to hide?" asked Levit.

"They were old people, I think they rather tried to hide but I fear for them." Sandor thought there was no reason to give the boy false hopes. The boy already knew very well what their chances were, and what had probably been their fate. Sandor chased from his mind the foul wish that their pursuers had lost some time dealing with them; it had been there, though, for a fleeting moment.

They were at the end of the small column and he heard the sound of hooves behind them. He turned in his saddle and was glad to recognize the figure of Astar.

"Alina sel, STOP." he shouted ahead, "Astar lev is back."

The eight riders turned around their horses to wait for him and hear what he had to say with some concern.

"Are they still behind us?" asked Alina.

"They are. They are using the heartless as trackers."

"How many?"

"More than fifty riders, not all vampires, and about twenty heartless."

"How far behind?"

"I would say fifteen, twenty minutes."

"Do you think we can outrun them, lose them in any way," demanded Alina.

"The riders will have to rest their horses like us but the heartless are tireless they can run day and night. It will not be easy," answered Sandor.

"Let's separate then," suggested Astar. "Sandor, you go with the princess, we'll hide your tracks and have them follow us. We'll meet in two days at the Fork, you wait for us there."

"True, we need to protect the princess, this is our priority, but I don't like that idea." Sandor wanted to say that but he also knew that it was the reasonable thing to do.

"I don't like it either, no way," said Alina," I don't want any more sacrifices. I'll need each one of you to reach the mountains and beyond."

They were interrupted by one of Astar's boys.

"Why don't we bring them inside a razor colony? There's a few just north of here. Our father used to harvest them a few years back, they are easy to find." It was Pelar, who had addressed the group, bringing some red to his cheeks.

"A razor colony?" repeated Astar with a grim face.

"Yes, with some chance they have no idea of what it looks like and once in there, they'll be ripped to shreds. They'll never know what happened to them."

"And what about us? We will have to cross it too if we want them to enter it," asked Levit.

"We just have to find the shed where they keep the repellent and the capes; it is always close to the main pathway."

"We will still need to be careful, it is the mating season. Harvesters don't go there at that time," warned Pelar's twin brother Safir."

As the boys were talking, Sandor had seen a scenario taking shape.

"How do we get there?"

"We just need to go north, there's a road that will take us to the razor colonies we just need to follow it."

"I think it could work, boys. If you know the place, lead us there. I'm taking care of the rest."

There was an exchange of worried looks among the gathered group. Razors were not something you took lightly. There was no creature deadlier and more feared than that one and many wished them to be exterminated despite the nectar they produced.

"I do hope you know what you're doing, Sandor," said Lorend. "Even if you know I would follow you to hell."

"We will know that soon enough. Let's hurry; we only have about a fifteen minute lead on them now, let's try to gain more."

They were shortly galloping at full tilt toward their destination and one hour later had reached the first colony. They had left the oak forest a few minutes before and were on open but hilly ground with some copse of trees here and there. The razor colony could not be mixed up with anything else, it consisted of a forest of Lilacs, four to five meters high with very dense foliage where the razors dwelt and hid. Their main sustenance came from the tree leaves and fruits but they also ate any living creature that wandered into their colony. One could see, if one looked closely, silver filaments descending from the trees and falling to the ground. If touched, they would bring the razors in a few seconds. This was exactly what Sandor wanted to happen. You could see three other colonies far away in the distance each separate from the other and similar to the one in front of them.

"I don't like this place," said Levit. "It smells of death; there's not a sound."

The boy was right, despite the sparkling red, yellow, and green of the leaves, reflected by the sun, there was no bird, none of the usual sounds found in a forest, just the lament of the wind.

"There is the shed," exclaimed Safir. "We should find all that we need inside."

They gathered in front of it and left the horses to Levit and Tomen.

"There's definitely a smell here, the repellent I suppose," observed Lorend. "I have always avoided these places."

"It's a job that pays well but also a risky one," said Astar.

"Not that much, if you know what you're doing," said Safir.

"What do they look like, those razors?" asked little Losfend, fearfully, who had stayed close to Alina.

"A mix of beetle and spider I would say, the size of a dog, with sharp claws and mandibles that can cut meat and bones like butter, they are fast too. But do not worry, my pretty one, for you will ride with me on the front of my saddle, and I'll make sure they don't touch you," said Alina, trying to reassure the boy, and seeing in his eyes that she was not entirely successful.

"Why not have Princess Alina and the boys go ahead. They could ride around the colony and wait for us at the other end of the trail, they would be safe that way?" suggested Astar.

"No," replied Alina. "They saw us when we left the farm, they know our number. We don't want them to hesitate and ask themselves any questions."

"If it was just you and your eros?" tried Sandor.

"No, we are in this together, we stay together." Alina had clearly closed the matter once again.

The twins had opened the shed and were looking around; the stench was strong and acrid.

"This is not only a repellent for the razors, I can tell you," exclaimed Lorend.

"Here are the capes, each with a hood, you plunge them in the repellent barrels and then let them dry before putting them on; there are special covers for the horses too."

"You know a lot Safir. We are lucky to have you with us. I propose we don't waste time drying them; we will put them on right away," said Sandor."

"We will be quite sticky and smelly if we make it out alive."

"You could be right, Astar. Here is how we will proceed. We need all of them to enter the colony and not only the heartless trackers. We will wait for them near the entrance, make them believe we were surprised and send them a volley of arrows. The heartless should pull back and wait for the riders, and as soon as they are all coming for us, we run. Safir, how far is it to the other side of the colony?"

"Mile; mile and a half, it's a straight line through on the main trail."

"Yes I see it, and we should be able to ride two abroad. Good, when we are through, they'll be in the middle of it, what's left of them at least."

"What if they know of the danger and don't enter?" asked Astar.

"I doubt it; they've had no reason to come this way before. No one lives near a razor colony; there are no towns, no villages, not even a farm. They perhaps heard of it but never saw one. I'm confident they'll fall for the trap. The only question is how many of them get caught, but for that I'm also confident, it is all a question of good timing. Let's equip fast and be ready for them."

Sandor was surprised as he grabbed the first cape at how heavy it was and certainly too large for most of the boys. In fact, there was a kind of chain mail sewn into them, for protection, without a doubt: one proof that their ploy wasn't without risk. Was it worth it? He wondered for a second. They could simply ride on and try to use their knowledge of the terrain to lose their pursuers…

"Let's start with the horses; it will give them time to get used to the weight and smell. It's rather impractical for the boys; they will all ride in front of us under the same cape like Losfend with Alina, who will take the lead. I'll be the last in line with Levit. We will all be steering one of the spare horses to avoid having them panic. The two pack horses will follow behind me."

"I have two boys," commented Astar.

"True, Tomen is big and experienced enough to manage a cape; he'll be behind you Alina."

They set to work with pinched noses, and fifteen minutes later, they were done. They had their bows and arrows, and crossbows with bolts ready, within easy reach.

Sandor and Lorend were on the lookout, a little apart from the others, while trying to be inconspicuous.

"The wait should not be too long, damned it's hot under those things even without the hood on," said Lorend.

"Do you think it will work?" The doubt was gaining ground with Sandor. He was thinking now that it would certainly look odd to see them dressed that way and ride two to a horse.

"You're the captain, you tell us what works, and we'll follow. I trust your judgment."

"Good of you. Have you bonded with your boy, Tomen el?"

"No, not yet. I know I should have last night, but it was too close to the loss of Alois el and you know that I have never been like you and most our friends. I can appreciate a boy's charms and services but I have always preferred a wide breasted lass."

"Nobody's perfect and it's too late for you to change, I suppose."

"You can say that. I don't complain, I'm quite happy that way."

There was a silence.

"Here they come," Lorend shouted.

The first heartless had appeared on the top of a nearby rise and almost immediately you could hear the sounds of hoofs announcing many riders.

Bows and crossbows were raised and they let fly a volley of arrows and bolts while they went for their horses.

Chapter Ten

William heard the crack of the bone breaking, and then came the pain.

Rand was smiling, it had been no accident but clearly intentional.

The prince had been careful since the start of the day to avoid any risk of injury. In a few minutes, or even less, his wrist would be as good as new, the broken bone mended and the pain gone. It was already receding, replaced by a strange tingling. He faked a fall to hide his wrist from Rand's sight. His body infused magic had to stay secret. Had there been blood it would have been much more of a problem: with any wound disappearing in no time and not leaving the slightest scar. There was not a scratch on his body after a whole day of exercise and war games, it was almost as smooth and perfect as a newborn.

Rand, thinking William was out of the fight, went for another opponent, his shield ready to break more bones or at least hurt them. He had checked before and after, that no one could see his move on the prince. He was desperate for victory; he had lost three times already and now was his last chance.

But it was too late, Gravenese was giving the signal, Focker's team had won again and it was the end of the games for today. Participants were shedding off their light leather armors and pages were bringing them water.

The boy was furious at himself first, but also at his team. He exchanged a glance with William and showed surprise at seeing him stand up and recover his wooden sword on the ground as if nothing had happened. William even making pinwheels with it as a show off, he thought he had hurt him bad.

"What?" he said.

The prince ignored him, passing by him to join Lucian and verbally taking him slightly apart while the other boys shared some water and commented on the games.

"Seems you made an enemy out of that one," said Lucian. It looked like Lucian had seen him fall and then saw what had ensued.

"Rand? I don't care; the bastard broke my wrist, on purpose, as you well know. For me, it was nothing serious, perhaps the show-off was a little too much, but I loved his look of astonishment when he saw me do that. I think he was against me from the start anyway. What about you? You haven't spoken a word since you went off with Lord Leto. What did he want from you?"

Lucian knew the prince would ask and had prepared an answer.

"Nothing much, mostly he taunted me the way that lady did last evening. Said he wanted me in his bed soon but that you would be first. I truly don't like him."

"He is not the man that he was. The curse has changed him, or so Tristam says," answered William. "But like you, I hate what he has become."

"Tristam has not been of much help…so far!" said Lucian with a strong resentment in his voice and irate look upon his face. The tone surprised William.

"Why? You know we have to keep the magic hidden and there has not been any valid reason for him to intervene yet. Don't you think?"

Lucian realized his mistake; his demeanor betraying him more than his words; he didn't want the prince to know what Lord Leto had done to him.

"There was the clash with Lord Leto last evening, of course, and then he didn't want me to meet with Beltram for strange reasons."

"Is that what is troubling you? I would have liked his counsels yesterday indeed but I managed that confrontation rather well myself, don't you think? As for Beltram, you did meet with him; you said it had been a great night for you. I fear that my first time with Lord Leto will be quite different."

"Sorry, you're right, I shouldn't complain like that. You are the one with the heaviest burden."

"At least I should still have this night to myself! He has chosen Simver to share his bed." William's tone had been sharp and when he paused and looked straight into Lucian's eyes, he could see how uncomfortable his friend was, looking down from the prince's gaze and shuffling his feet slightly. In a softer tone, William asked his friend, "How was it?"

Until now, Lucian was used to telling William everything, there was never any secret between them. The anxiety was getting to him. He didn't know how to answer.

"With Beltram, I mean. We never had the time to discuss it. Did it hurt?"

"Yes, it did, or rather not, at first. It should have." Lucian had some difficulty separating his two very different experiences with Beltram and then Leto, his thoughts a whirl right now.

"Sorry, but what you just said makes no sense. Did it hurt, or not?"

"No, it did not, but it probably should have…some. Beltram used a trick."

"A trick, what do you mean?" Lucian had piqued William's interest.

"How stupid of me! I should have thought of it before; that could do the trick for your first night with Leto."

"You are speaking in riddles, explain yourself." William was becoming irritated, he was terrified at the idea of finding himself alone with Leto and of having to pleasure him in any way the lord could wish. "What is this trick?"

"It's very simple. He uses a special grease that takes away the pain or at least numbs it. It made it a lot easier and pleasant that first time with Beltram, I suppose. Well no, in fact, I'm quite sure of it." Lucian's memory of the pain he had felt when Leto had forcefully entered him only two hours earlier was vivid in his memory and would stay there for a long time."

"You have to get some of that grease for me." William's voice was full of hope and relief, "Don't bother, I'll ask him myself, he can't refuse his prince."

"Of course not, I think that he'll be glad to help you, he would have certainly thought of it himself in due time."

"It's decided then. Let's join the others and rejoice in our victory and that very useful trick of yours."

"Let me tell you one more thing."

"What is it? I want you to tell me every detail of your tryst with Beltram, but later."

"It is not that. I am sure Leto likes to inflict pain. You should fake it even if you don't feel it and trick him that way too."

"I like that, Lucian. I'll do it. You're a true friend, more than that."

William put his arm around Lucian's shoulder as they mingled with their joyous and victorious team surrounding Focker…

***

As soon as they had entered the colony, they heard them. There had been an ominous silence before, but not anymore. There was a clatter and rattle all around them. They had been told to avoid touching the filaments falling from the canopy of trees above but it was impossible, they were everywhere. Sandor hoped the repellent would be enough to keep the razors at bay, it was far from sure though, certainly the harvesters did not barge into the colony on their horses and at full gallop. No one could say what the creatures' reaction would be or if the repellent would be enough to protect them.

Sandor was last to enter the place, with Levit in front of him under the cape. He could see the first of the creatures, ugly things, descending from the trees, only a few, for now. Turning around, he checked that they had been followed: at least the trap seemed to be working, whatever the outcome.

As he was turning forward, he felt one of the razors hit him in the back with a heavy thud, there was a click as of metal on metal, it had tried to pierce the cape but its weight was immediately gone, either due to the repellent or because it had not found a hold.

One mile was a very long distance in such conditions. He felt the pack horses behind him start to panic and pull on the ropes tied to his saddle. Letting them go would be a way to divert the razors from their group but it was still too early, their pursuers were to be the main course and indeed, he could now hear a clamor that was coming from behind, the first cries and shouts of surprise and pain. How many had entered the colony coming after them? How many would perish? It was his hope that none would survive.

Levit, in front of him, was silent. He could feel his young and slight frame against him. The boy was almost blind under the large cape that protected them both and had good reason to be terrified, not knowing what was going on around him.

"Hold tight and don't be afraid," he told him. "We will make it through."

Time appeared to be suspended, they were moving as if in slow motion with sudden accelerations from time to time. Occasionally razors still fell from the canopy of trees to the ground, some hitting the horse or grazing the cape, but so far, it appeared there had been no direct attacks against any of them.

The heartless were fast runners and could catch up to horses over a short distance. Sandor knew there was no way he could fight them off if they caught up with him and Levit, with the heavy cape he could barely draw his sword. There would be no need for that however, the heartless had decided to go through the woods and leave the main trail open for the vampire riders. Some of them were now level with Sandor but they did not try to attack him. Only their speed had allowed them to escape the razors so far and it would not last, he saw one fall on his right almost immediately covered and cut to pieces by the razors. Another was still up, using a club to try to keep them at bay.

But a few were still running and suddenly one veered to his right and collided with a horse ahead of their column. Heartless, horse and rider fell in a heap. It was Tomen! As he tried to get back on his feet, his horse doing the same, his cape caught in the saddle and the clasp holding it broke. It fell off his shoulders and was gone as his mount fled the scene, leaving him fully exposed. A few paces away, the heartless was dead, razors covering his body. For a moment nothing happened, the boy was watching the rest of the group pass by him, an absent expression on his face, as if he wasn't really there. The Valean horses were already overloaded: each with two riders, the heavy cape, and protections for the horse. His only chance was the pack animals, thought Sandor, who, on purpose and with difficulty, tried to slow down to give him time to catch one of them and ride out of the colony, the exit wasn't that far away now.

As he was almost upon him, his horse down to a trot, he believed they would do it and save the boy. The repellent had seeped from the cape into the boy's clothes and probably been effective enough.

"Tomen, the pack horses, catch one of them!" he shouted.

But it was not to be so, in the next moment, the razors attacked the boy, he didn't have a chance. Sandor turned his eyes away from the sight and made sure that Levit, even with his limited vision, was not a witness to the poor boy's end. At least it had been fast, if not painless.

Spurring his horse forward again, he sent a glance behind. No one was following them anymore. As he left the colony, the clatter and the few cries that could still be heard soon diminished and disappeared; they would stay for a long time in his memory as well as the desperate expression on Tomen's face just before he was gone. He pulled off the hood, unfastened the clasp, and let go of the cape freeing Levit. It dropped heavily to the ground.

He embraced the boy in his arms and kissed him everywhere, not caring about the odious smell of the repellent still on his skin.

"Not so tight you'll crush me," said Levit, with a serious smile, at once relieved and sad like his lover.

Sometime later, it was with a heavy heart that he met with Alina and the others and confirmed to them Tomen's cruel demise.

***

While the prince was in the palaestra training, Tamerlane had taken his leave for a stroll in the city. He was dressed as a merchant to avoid attracting unwanted attention. As a knight on the city streets, boys who would give anything to become a page or squire always annoyed him. Some were quite comely and it could have its advantages but not this day. He just wanted to go for a walk, visit a tavern or two. He had more boys than he could fuck at his disposal at Belvoir.

He exited the palace by a small postern gate away from the crowds and saw he was not alone.

Just ahead was Melchior, that nondescript advisor often seen with Leto. Four men all dressed in black were waiting for him. What was that all about? His curiosity whetted when he saw them get in a large cart driven by four horses. Where are they going? he thought. I'll have no problem following them on foot through the busy city streets.

Thirty minutes later, they were nearing the well-known Red Suburb of ill repute. What the hell is he going to do there?

Tamerlane was well versed in the activities taking place in the vicinity, gambling, prostitution, selling of slaves, trafficking of all kinds, dens of thieves, cutthroats, and assassins. The area was under surveillance and monitored closely by the authorities but made huge profits for some people at the royal court and elsewhere: people of whom the King needed the support or monetary contributions from. So they were mostly left alone as long as they did not openly interfere with the peace of the city or the interests of the kingdom.

It was a market place that extended into small alleys and back streets. There were mostly small houses but some larger buildings could be found here and there holding taverns, whorehouses, or both that catered to all tastes, quite a few of them offering women and girls, what a strange idea. Beneath, there was a labyrinth of underground tunnels and large caves where goods waited to be sold: contraband and stolen merchandise alongside human slaves in crates or cages. The tunnels reached the river Gallant two miles away where boats of all sizes brought their cargo or took away the goods to places where they would bring a better price.

Tamerlane knew rather well the area, as an amateur of forbidden pleasures, as well as a dedicated servant of his king, he had accomplished a few missions there. He soon could put a name to the final destination of Melchior. It was Calbron's establishment, one with a bad reputation, even in this place, and for good reasons. He had visited it a few times already and expected he would well know of Melchior's activity there in a short time. There were several entrances and exits as could be expected and at least three ways to access the underground from there.

The little man and his four bodyguards took a secondary entrance. Despite his large size, Tamerlane knew how to look invisible when necessary and followed a minute later, a silver coin was enough for the doorman to let him pass without question.

Melchior's visit was no surprise and Calbron himself had come to meet him, something he did only for his best customers. They were not in the main hall but in a corridor with booths that ran along each side, giving privacy to those that wanted it. Boys and a few girls were coming and going from them, some with food or beverages, others to offer their charms and obvious talents. There was music coming from some of them. Tamerlane entered an empty one close enough to the two men to hear what was being said.

"I received your message. You say you have all that I have ordered. I am surprised; I did not expect you to find them so fast."

"The price you pay is a great incentive, my friend. You've been a regular customer for so long now, even though I met you for the first time, face to face, only the other day. You wanted the best and I provided it, didn't I? That beast of yours has a prodigious appetite."

"Those were not for the Beast, we have guests that have also shown some gluttony. They might need five more boys, every three or four days I guess, if their duties don't call them somewhere else in the kingdom, then there is the special order."

"You'll make my fortune, Melchior, you and your powerful lord."

"Where are they? I want to check them. I hope they are worth what I pay for them."

"Do not doubt it. You were lucky, this is not something that is easy to find on such short notice."

What are they talking about? Tamerlane wondered. Boys? There's nothing more common than that…even pretty ones. A special order? It must be something else.

"I can understand that, but are they of the standard that I asked for?" insisted the small man.

"You'll see for yourself. You were lucky. One pair I had in stock already, another one arrived by boat just yesterday, the other two pairs were taken from their bed during the night."

"That's four pairs, I asked for only three?" remarked Melchior, not really unhappy by this turn of events.

"Yes, one pair is a bit young, not quite nine yet, so we had to improvise another catch. I have a list of interesting prospects all over the town that can cater to different tastes. That way I am always at the ready when a special demand comes in. I told you we are the best in the market."

"I believe you, but let's see the merchandise. Four pairs you say? Why not? But there will be a discount on the younger ones I expect?"

"Always for our best customers; I like you Melchior. Let's enter that booth and drink to our fruitful collaboration. Cadik will bring us the loot, ready to be taken away, if they are to your liking that is. If not, do not fear, I already have three more pairs under surveillance…or simply in case you need more."

"So many I would have never guessed they would be so easy to find, of the right age and comely enough."

"Easy, certainly not, but this is a great and big city, my friend, and with the kind of money you put on the table there is no reason not to succeed in filling the bill. Would you like another kind of entertainment while we wait?"

"That will not be necessary. I just came to get what I asked for and my time is short."

"Very well, Cadik go fetch the boys."

Tamerlane had been listening to them incredulously, Boys? Pairs? Twins? What were they planning to do? Did it involve the prince?

He had just enough time to hide behind a tapestry as the boys entered the booth, he was lucky that there was enough room and that it almost touched the ground, otherwise his feet would have shown. He could even have a good look at the scene unfolding through a rip in the fabric. It was hot in there.

A young and very pretty boy was serving them glasses of wine and fruits on a large platter.

"Are you sure you don't want a moment alone with Orin here, he is a gifted boy or perhaps you would prefer someone younger, older, a virgin, a girl? He can go and fetch anything for you in a minute? It's on the house, of course."

"No, really, thank you again, I am here on business, but I appreciate the offer."

"Ah, here they are."

Cadik was back with the four pairs of twins. The booth was large and there was room enough for all of them and the two slavers that had come with them. They were valuable merchandise and watched closely.

Melchior took his time and examined them in detail, looking for any defect or blemish that could disqualify them or perhaps simply lower the price: faces, legs, bottoms, skin, teeth, mouths, hair, armpits, necks, orifices, cock and balls. All were examined closely, probed, and tested. He loved that moment much more than any tryst with a whore boy or girl. The touching, the fear, the shame, belittling them, making them feel they were nothing but flesh and bone, not really human anymore and destined to a cruel demise. It was so pleasurable. He had immediately identified the two pairs of slaves and the two taken in their bed or off the street in the last hours. Those had parents certainly looking for them; they were miserable and had no idea of what was coming for them yet. He would make sure to let them know everything and more.

Considering Leto's current mood and his particular sudden interest for identical twins, he estimated they would not last a week. The lord had not used the dark harem since the arrival of the prince though. This would certainly change as soon as those twins were delivered to the palace waiting for his visit. He supposed that logically the two blonds would be the first to go, then perhaps the eight, nine year olds, a bit young certainly but extremely cute, then the red haired ones and finally the ones with black curls. One way to play with his guesses would be to dye them all blonde, they would not survive long enough be lose that color. Yes, that would be fun and please Leto. The quality of the product was top notch; he had to say, considering its scarce availability.

"You did marvels, Calbron. My master will be greatly satisfied, so much so that you might have to provide more of those pairs very soon."

"I can try but you should make them last at least a few days or a week, if I dare say. This is not a very common product. I will contact my affiliates in other parts of the country and even elsewhere but it will take time."

"Do that and I'll keep you informed of our needs. We will be leaving Soonlure any day now. I doubt I'll have the time and pleasure to come here again in the near future but it is a certainty that I'll come back when I return."

The boys changed hands, Melchior's escort of black clad men taking possession of the leashes that bound the boys at the neck two by two, brother with brother and pulling on them not too gently.

Melchior felt elated as he watched the soon dead boy meat get in the cart away from any prying eyes. Not that it would matter here but secrecy was a habit he had honed to a second nature. He knew he had talked too much with Calbron, he had been careless, but certainly the man was of the kind to keep it to himself. He would not be in the business anymore if it was not so. It wasn't so important however, in two months all would be done, Soonlure a field of ruin, its population put to the sword as he had vowed many years ago. He had been there when Akatafelt, his master had died, left for dead himself. In his agony, the Archon had given him a mission and a promise. Both would come to fruition in the next weeks. He would bring back the Archons to these lands and he would be granted immortality.

The booth was empty and Tamerlane waited a few minutes before leaving it inconspicuously. There was more work to do and he hurried to catch up with the cart. He knew of the Beast and its appetites. Their mission was to end its reign of terror one way or the other and more; there was a lot at stake. But this was a mystery; the Beast would not be back until the next moon, weeks away. What were those boys for? Leto's entertainment? Melchior's words were much more ominous than that. Why identical twins? Of that, he had a precise idea. Who were those guests? Certainly not the prince, Beltram, or himself. Was there some magic involved? He needed answers and would do his best to have them.

***

Hegron was bored, afraid, and alone, despite the numerous people whose duty was to take care of him and satisfy all his desires. He had been alone all his life, since his mother had died giving him birth or so he was told. For a few years now, he knew also that despite his status, the slightest mistake could cost him his life. But there was more, now there was not the slightest doubt that his days were numbered. The closer they got to that tomb, the closer to his death. He would be a sublime sacrifice they said. That was a very poor consolation. For months now, he had thought of only one thing, ESCAPE!

But how could he achieve that? And where could he go? If he only dared step out of the tent, which would already mean deceiving the guards, he would be a prey for any and all the vampires in the camp. They would drain him in no time; drawn to him like flies to a light; fighting for the slightest drop of his blood.

It was hopeless. His Essence, as they called it, was his curse.

He needed help. During the battle, he had prayed for the victory of the Valeans but to no avail. He was desperate. Perhaps he should kill himself; at least it would deprive them of their so-called sublime sacrifice. It would be much easier to achieve and some kind of an escape too.

If only he knew how to use magic. That would certainly help. He had inherited it from the Archons, of that he was sure but he had never been taught how to wield it. Most of the time it occurred without his will and in totally useless ways. Since he had known of it, he had asked the wizards to teach him, give him some of their books to practice. But it had been delayed again and again. He now had a good idea of why they didn't want him to gain any knowledge of it. He had tried to steal some scrolls more than once, but without much success. His time was running out.

Most people would think he was treated as a prince, given everything he wanted, cared for in every way imaginable. They could not be more wrong. He was like an animal fattened till he was taken to the slaughter house. He had everything, true, except his freedom and someone he could call friend or kin. All of his retinue changed every six months, guards, servants, the two wizards that watched over him daily.

They had given him captive boys to befriend and play with but it was always only for a few months. He had learned not to become attached to them. In the end, they were given to the vampires and he was made to watch as they died. He wondered how he had not lost his mind in such conditions.

Tael was one of the two wizards watching over him now. He was not a very talented one; it seemed that most of those had been used to create a portal to let the Alliance troops surprise the Valeans. It was said covertly that they were now all worthless and had lost whatever powers they had before. Tael was young and rather kind to him. He had felt his somber mood and brought him a new pet as they called the captive boys meant to entertain him. He had had none since they had started their journey to the tomb. It was certainly not the best way to enlighten him but it was well intentioned. At least he could hope to keep him until his own end and not have to see him die.

The boy was called Erial. Tael had said he was as beautiful as Hegron himself and that it had not been easy to obtain him, there was a high demand for pretty boys since not many had survived the last battle and capture of the city. Hegron, in fact, wondered if Tael was not infatuated with him, he had no clear idea of what it meant but had heard enough from all those around him to think so. Perhaps he could use that fact to his advantage. It was worth a try; at least, he had nothing to lose.

The boy, Erial, was not easy to befriend, he was unresponsive and hostile which was understandable. Was it even worth the effort? At the same time, it would please Tael if he showed some interest in regard to his gift. Yes, that was certainly something to consider. He had seen that the young wizard traveled with several thick volumes on magic that he consulted often…

"Erial," he called. The boy came to him reluctantly. "I need to talk to you, sit beside me."

He would start right away. He was bored and he had nothing else to do anyway. Come to think of it, there could be several solutions to his problem, by the means of Tael and the boy.

***

The atmosphere was joyous in the baths and the strain soon forgotten after a full day of training and war games. The boys splashed around, wrestled in the water, some in pairs or threesomes. In some of the stone cubicles, activities that were more intimate were going on, away from prying eyes.

Rand was not in the mood for any of that, all he was thinking of was a way to vent his fury. He had a few ideas. It was the first time he found himself with such a shameful score. His team had not achieved even one victory out of four when usually he was always the one leading the winning team. What had gone wrong? There could only be one answer to that: the prince. How could he have been unscathed after a hit like that? If not broken, his wrist should have been rendered useless, at least for a few days. There was something amiss there and he was sure he was responsible for the rest of what was going on too. There was nothing he could do about it right now, but sooner or later he would find a way to get to him and get to know what tricks he played. He had to tell Melchior, it would certainly be of interest to him.

As he was drying himself with a towel, Simver came to pick one too and stood talking with Focker. He was now within his reach; there was a loud flap sound as the towel hit the boy on his rump and then a laugh.

"Getting some counsel, perhaps? We will soon see if you show the same prowess with these fleshy bum cheeks of yours as with your bow."

Without waiting for an answer, Rand slipped on his tunic and left; Simver's face was as red as his behind with a mix of embarrassment and displeasure.

Rand did not think that Leto would be back yet from his meeting with the king and decided to visit Adol. He was sure he could find ways to hurt him without leaving a trace. It would have to do for now. He did not want to upset his lord and lose any chance to have his request approved. His bad performance of the day was enough to take away any chance of obtaining what he desired. Leto appreciated the fact that they were like-minded but he also loved to tease him and play with his constant requests. He certainly was in the right frame of mind to spend some time in the Dark Harem and this time not as a simple visitor. Everything he had thought of doing to Adol he could do to any boy there and more, there was no limit and he wanted to prove himself. Taking Adol there would have been even better but Leto would never allow it. Or would he? These last weeks the Beast was gaining ground, there were even physical transformations that could be noticed, his nails for a short time changed into claws, his height and strength increased. He had seen Focker's reaction to it and made fun of it, the wimp was terrified. Melchior had said that soon Leto the man would be gone and only the Beast would be left. He felt some unease at the idea but embraced the concept; it would portend the end of this world and the beginning of a new one. His family would be honored, at last, as they were due. They would rule and have their revenge on all those that had decried them. He had no love, no loyalty to the lord only envy and defiance. He was careful not to show any of it. Melchior was his true master. Suddenly an idea came to him on how to turn his defeats to his advantage and better his chances to obtain a positive answer. He would say that he lost on purpose, to please the prince who seemed so eager for a victory. It was not in character but still plausible.

"Ah, here you are my little pet," he said as he entered his personal chamber adjoining Leto's apartments. "Did you miss me? No need to tell me, I think I know the answer. We have probably one or two days left together, that is, if I can't convince Lord Leto to take you on our trip or even better to a special place here in Belvoir. I will make my request as soon as he is back from an important meeting. There are so many things that I want to do with you, ah, where to begin?"

The ten year old was gagged and bound to the bed by a single silver chain attached to the collar around his neck. He dared not move, terrified and trembling at the page's mercy.

Rand spent a pleasant hour with him, but when Leto returned, he joined him for dinner, as he was still conferring with some of his generals.

The news from the Vale was dire. The province had been invaded and captured, its people slaughtered by the thousands. The invading army wielded magic and was composed of many creatures that were unheard of. Many feared that some evil of the same magnitude as the Archons was back at the frontier and menacing the kingdom again.

It was not the moment for any mere page's request whatever its nature. Rand was in a bad temper when Simver presented himself in the lord's apartments later in the evening to perform his duty. It was clear that he was intimidated and a little afraid. He was a page at Belvoir and had heard the same rumors and tales as anyone else concerning his master and lord. At the same time, it was an honor and the dream of many.

Focker was there too and taking care of the boy, which was alright with Rand. There was still a slight hope that he could exchange a few words with Leto, when he joined them, and before he let him go for the evening, as Leto would enjoy Simver and Focker tonight. He had to forget Adol, in such circumstances he could not ask anything concerning that boy. Well that was of no consequence, he certainly could let go of him if he had access to all those held in the bowels of the palace.

***

The riders had gotten rid of the capes and protections right away and then they did not stop for two hours. Going at a fast pace, they wanted to gain as much distance as possible from the razors' colony. Sandor was confident that most of their pursuers had been killed. The few remaining ones, if any, had certainly turned back. But there was still the possibility that they would inform other groups of their presence. They could send a drak or a heartless to spread the word around. At least they did not know what direction they were taking, as they had veered from it to get to the colonies. They had seen and avoided two villages on their way, apparently deserted. Sandor had no idea of how many invading troops they could encounter.

Weary himself, he finally called a halt in a small clearing close to a creek.

After taking care of the horses, they washed themselves in the creek trying to get rid of the stench of the repellant.

It was Alina that broke the silence.

"Two more days till we get to the mountains and our destination. I am sorry for your boy Lorend lev"

"It was my fault," answered the soldier, head down.

"Why do you say that? It was nobody's fault. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. I was the one that decided he would ride alone," said Sandor.

"He was a big boy," said Levit, as if to clear the man of any judgement.

"It is not that. I should have bonded with him last night. I brought the evil eye on him."

"Nonsense there is no such thing and you were mourning Alois el. It was fate; we have lost so many that any further loss is wrenching our hearts. But we have to go on and not look back."

"Fate gave me two boys, more than I can handle, I'll trust you with Pelar el, he is a good boy, and I am sure that he will bring you many satisfactions, not the least of which when you bond with him," said Astar.

"I have lost two boys already; I don't think I can accept the burden of caring for one more just now."

"You can and you will. That is your duty," stated Sandor, making the decision clear.

"Won't you ask the boy what he thinks of it?" asked Alina.

"As you must know, our boys are precious to us, probably the most precious things to us in this world and the next. Petar el is Safir el's twin brother, I know they don't look that much alike, but it is so. I took him under my wing when we left and I will give him to Losfend lev, here, because I know the man. I would trust him with my own son, I trust him with my life. Every boy needs a man in his life, to teach him, protect him, and love him. This is what I believe in and I know that Losfend lev and Sandor lev agree with me. We don't simply need an eros to play with or put in our bed," said Astar, and with one arm around each of his boys, his attacks on the princess' earlier conduct were made quite clear.

Alina did not reply but they saw a little twitch at the corner of her mouth. She was not used to being addressed that way.

"That was quite a speech, Astar, for one who usually seldom speaks," laughed Sandor as the man ceremoniously brought Petar to Losfend, who in turn took the child in his arms.

"What can we expect as we get closer to the mountains, what information if any do you have Princess?"

"Nothing that is certain, but from what I know, the enemy, after capturing the major strongholds and towns has been sending small detachments of troops about everywhere to attack villages and farms, killing or capturing as many of us as possible. So we may encounter more of them. I think we should stay away from villages and farms from now on. As you've seen most are deserted. We ordered the people to leave them, to live hidden in the forests and organize a guerrilla resistance. We lost the first round but not the war."

"The villagers deserted them or maybe were attacked and slaughtered," said Losfend, his mood still somber. "But you're right we should stay away from them from now on."

"The situation is not as desperate as it may seem. We were taken by surprise, our main forces crushed. But our people are stubborn and querulous, ready to fight whatever the cost. They have gone into hiding but they are still there ready to retaliate at the first occasion."

"I hope that you're right, because, so far, I have lost every major battle that I have fought," said Sandor. "We won't get rid of that stench without washing and changing our clothes. Let's do that."

Alina, for once showing some modesty, took her eros away to a more secluded place out of the men's sight.

As soon as she was gone, the boys were sent to fetch soap and fresh clothing stored on the pack animals. When they came back, they all stripped and started to try to take the sour smell out of their garments and their own skin, lathering each other with foam. Before long, they were all splashing and frolicking together in the shallow stream, enjoying some moments of peace and recreation; the men, soon in attitude and acts, looking very much like boys themselves.

The sun was still high in the sky and hot and after some innocent play, erections started to appear giving the scene a more sensual nature. After some time, two by two, each man with his boy, like Alina earlier, went in search of a more secluded place away from the others. There was no shame in their desires and whatever acts would be performed, only a need for intimacy and the respect due to their young charges. In most cases, there was no real sex but simple caresses and cuddling, even if some seed was spent.

Sandor should have put an end to it right away or at least set up a watch but he was not the last to go and cavort with young Levit who then performed an expert massage on his weary body.

The last to leave the creek were Losfend and Pelar, the boy leading the soldier by the hand, very determined to use all his skills to charm and delight him. The first goal seemed already achieved for now, a large smile adorning the man's face. As soon as they had reached an adequate patch of grass, without a word, he brought the man down and started to kiss his face…his lips, while using his young lean body to rub himself on the hard and well-muscled one under him. He soon felt a welcome stirring in the man's loins and used his own erection to stimulate that area. After only a moment, the two cocks of disparate sizes were mingling together.

"I want you to bond with me, Losfend el, please. I want to serve you as well as Alois lev did."

The man did not answer with words. He moved the boy to his side, and used spit to help with the penetration. He knew he had not been the boy's first lover, and it took away nothing from their bonding: when two souls join to form one, complete and stronger.

Chapter Eleven

Despite his imposing size, Tamerlane knew how to go unnoticed when necessary. He had done enough shadowing to know all the tricks that could be used.

He had followed the boys and their guards, seen Melchior leave them once they had reached Belvoir, watched them enter and navigate the palace inconspicuously through little used corridors, go deeper and deeper and down hidden stairs.

He was on his guard and in unexplored quarters. He saw or rather heard them ahead, moving swiftly, the corridors were lit like many other places in the palace by a system of mirrors that reflected the outside light, which otherwise would not have been able to penetrate that far. He turned a corner and then nothing. The corridor ahead was straight for at least sixty yards. It was empty and there was only silence.

A secret passage — how interesting.

It was late already and his absence would be noticed. He hated to abandon the search but he knew it was necessary for the moment. He retraced his steps; he had been careful to note landmarks along the way.

He was halfway up the stairs when he heard voices. There were many tapestries, which again were quite convenient to go unnoticed; he went behind a large one, becoming invisible to whoever was going down the stairs.

"I am so sorry I could not accompany you on your visit to the town."

Tamerlane could hear them loud and clear. He was sure he knew that voice but did not dare have a look yet waiting for them to have passed him by.

"It was enjoyable anyway, and the escort you gave me was quite competent. I was able to see a lot without exposing myself, do not worry."

"I trust you to be cautious Lord Olgred."

"We might need more boys or lasses soon, my men get thirsty locked up as they are."

Tamerlane, coming out from behind the tapestry, saw Melchior with a large man dressed indeed as a lord, with two guards following close behind. He did not wait to put a little distance behind them, instead, he knew that conversation was worth taking some risks, and off he went, following closely after them.

"From the last news I just had there, they will be freed soon. Leto will be leaving shortly, and we should not stay more than one more day in the capital. I had planned to keep you well provided however, and you can be assured of that."

"I do not doubt it. Then what about us, where shall we go?"

"In the end, it has been confirmed that your mission will be to capture his wife and children and bring them to the Vale to be held as hostages."

"I believe he has not seen them in years; will they be that valuable to him in such a situation?"

"We won't take any chances. Soon the king and Leto will know what they are facing. If for any reason our plan fails, and war between Leto and the king does not happen, this will be one more card up our sleeve. If he is abandoned by his knights and they refuse to fight for him, or if he is killed, they have a duty of obedience to his heir who will be in our care."

"How many men will you give me?"

"Thirty, but you will really only need Landers who is already there and holds all the keys to your success. He will be able to solve any problem for you, get all the doors open, and deliver Leto's family to you without a glitch…It seems we have reached your apartments."

The voices were silenced as a door closed.

Quite valuable information, with many questions raised. We have enemies inside the kingdom. I need to inform Beltram and report it to the king, thought Tamerlane. Sending a message would not be difficult; we have always had men at our service inside Leto's palace, Belvoir, who have held their position there for many years, with their loyalty and allegiance belonging to the king.

He was troubled by what he had seen. The few glances he could get of the lord with Leto's adviser were of a man certainly but he did not look quite human, there was magic at work in this place and darkness. He had never been one to categorize the world around him in black and white, good and evil. But since he had entered the palace, met with Leto, followed Melchior that day, and seen that strange lord, his stance may have changed. Perhaps dark and evil could apply here.

***

The wait was coming to an end, and their stay in the capital would soon be over, one more day at the most, to give time to the troops from the south to join them. Leto was excited when he entered his chambers that evening. War was only a few weeks away. It would take that long to reach the Vale — unfortunately. The menace was severe and mostly unknown; he could not rush there with his cavalry. He needed the might of all the forces of the kingdom and more would be raised in every province to add to their number.

It was a strange feeling, one he had not felt for years, before the curse and his downfall. Perhaps he could regain some of his lost glory. For now, he was in the best of moods to enjoy his guest and archer emeritus. Only a few days back his only desire would have been to visit the Dark Harem, but not today. He would go later to have a look at Melchior's new acquisitions but nothing more. In war, he would be able to hack and disembowel without regret or guilt.

Guilt? This was a feeling he had not considered in a long time. An ugly word and concept he had banned from his conscience. For now, he would think of war only, of a time of honor and courage, determination and strength, when he stood on the side of good. Before the curse and his descent into the abyss that was his life since. What was happening to him? He had more and more often those moments of introspection where his present life and behavior horrified him.

He didn't want to delve any further into those considerations though. He would relax and enjoy the boys at his service. What could be better than that?

"Simver, come closer, I want to see how you can please me this evening."

The boy had dressed with his best garments, silk and rich leather that still left uncovered his legs, arms and part of his torso.

Rand decided it was now or never.

"My lord"

"Yes, what do you want?" Leto was annoyed.

"Can I have a word with you in private?"

"Can't it wait, don't you see that we have a precious guest that has earned his place in our bed. He has ridiculed you and your team. I'm not sure I should listen to you."

Rand knew very well that look; Leto's gaze had not left the boy's slight frame, feasting on it. If he stayed, he would certainly assist with great interest to the lord's coupling with Simver and did not doubt he could bring his master to show some cruelty in his dealings with the boy–getting some revenge by the way. But his only obsession was to obtain access to the Dark Harem; it was all he could think about. It had been fueled by his sessions with Adol. Now was the time, he felt it.

"Focker, take Simver to the bedchamber, but don't let him take off his clothes, that, I'll do myself."

"Yes, my Lord," answered Focker taking Simver by the hand to guide him.

Rand waited to speak until they were out of hearing range.

"What did you think of my hoax?"

"Hoax, what are talking about? I saw your incompetence and defeat, this afternoon"

"So you've been fooled too."

"You're talking in riddles, Rand; I have no time for those games. Pleasure awaits me."

Rand knew that if he lost ground now, all his chances were gone.

"I thought you liked stronger stuff, like those to be found in the Dark Harem."

"I do," it was said without conviction, "but I have other plans for now. Explain yourself and hurry."

"I lost on purpose this afternoon, to please the prince and of course ultimately you, my Lord."

"You lost on purpose, you, Rand?" Leto was clearly amused, there was a fire burning in his eyes but not the one the page was used to.

"This is something Melchior suggested to me." He had to bring some plausibility to his tale.

"Melchior, now that makes more sense and what do you think you've earned for that feat?"

"Don't you know?"

"Of course I know, but I want to hear it."

"I want access to the Dark Harem, to be able to do there what you forbade me to do to Adol."

Leto did not answer right away; a sadness had suddenly taken hold of him, surprising Rand who had never seen such an expression on his face. It lasted only a moment.

"You don't know what you're asking for, Rand. But so be it. Take this ring; it will give you the liberty to do as you wish there. I'll come by later in the evening, Melchior has bought me new boys, I've been told. Those are out of bounds for you. Now go. You almost ruined my desire for our guest; I'll have to revive it now."

Rand could not believe his luck holding firmly the ring in his right fist and then trying to slip it on his index finger. Too big, too bad, it would have looked great there. As he left the Lord's chambers, he could not refrain from thinking that Leto had been different. He was surprised that he had accepted his request; but now was the time to take advantage of it fully before he changed his mind.

***

Lucian was angry with Tristam but also worried. It seemed he had disappeared since the other night.

The boy feared it was all his fault. He had been the one who had asked him to leave his body while he met Beltram. Had there been a problem? Perhaps he had not been able to get back in. Magic was a tricky thing these days as he often said. If it was so, he could not hold a grudge against him for not helping out with Leto. It also meant they were alone to face the next days and accomplish their mission. William or rather Arthur could not count on his counsels and magic anymore. That would be a terrible setback; they needed the Magi. His help could make the difference between failure and success in the final confrontation, a few weeks away. He had not dared speak of it to William and he was careful more than ever to use the right name, even in his thoughts. He had done enough already; he did not want to make any more errors. It also seemed to become a bad habit for him not to tell the truth to William. He hated that.

"Tristam are you there? Answer me. Please, we need you. Tell me you haven't abandoned us." There was no answer. Lucian was starting to panic. "What have I done!"

"I am here, and you should thank me for that, ungrateful child."

Lucian let out a sigh of relief.

"When did you get back? Why should I be grateful? I have been raped twice in less than a day — by that monster! I called for your help and you did nothing!"

"You sent me away. I could not respond last night. I helped you today."

"You helped? When did you do that?"

"You were told from the start of the risks, Lucian. We did not lie to you. You knew also that I could not use my magic openly, that I could not expose myself or give hints that magic was being used in any way. Still I did it for you, this day. I hastened Leto's orgasm and the end of your ordeal this very afternoon. You were in pain, but it lasted only a moment, it could have gone on for much longer than that, as you well know."

Lucian had indeed been surprised by the rapidity of the scene that contrasted with their first encounter the previous night.

"Well, I should thank you then. But still, I thought he was tearing me apart. And I was lucky that that guy, Melchior, did not want to have seconds."

"I would not have been able to do anything. I am very wary of that one, he holds magic; I feel it. I took a big risk in helping you."

"And again, I am grateful, if we could only find a way for Leto to leave me alone. He has hundreds of boys at his disposal, why pick on me?"

"Because of the prince."

"Why not pick on him then?"

"It might be the magic."

"The magic? How?"

"Both Arthur and Leto are charged with it, which could be why he has not put him in his bed yet. And he has used you as a substitute."

"But the magic is hidden, otherwise, wouldn't our enemies know of it?"

"You are right, but there are still forces at work that none of us have control of. That could explain why Leto is unsettled by the prince. Or, maybe, it is the Beast inside him that feels a danger and holds him back."

"I see. But in that case, your scheme will never work."

"We will do what is necessary to succeed but it will be mostly Arthur's role, he will have to find a way to overcome that difficulty."

"William, you mean?"

"Yes, you are right we have to call him by that name now. Even in such circumstances."

"I can tell you he is in no hurry to get into Leto's arms or bed, which I can understand."

"He'll come to it; he doesn't have a choice. That balm or grease that Beltram uses will certainly help us greatly. I do not want to rush him; I'll wait until we get on the road but it needs to happen in the next few days. I can tell that Leto has changed already; the Beast's influence has lessened notably. But this will not be enough to ensure our success."

"What can I do to help?"

"Perhaps just tell him of your experience with Beltram. Which I think you will be willing to renew this very night."

"I don't think he'd liken it to a night with Leto."

"Leto is a great man, but his nature has been perverted by the Archons magic. If restored, he could become what every boy in the kingdom would wish for. We have a few weeks left to achieve that, until the next moon."

"That's more or less when we will reach the Vale."

"Yes, that is when everything will be decided. Whether we lose everything or on the contrary, whether we can face our enemy with Lord Leto by our side at the head of our armies."

"I'll help as much as I can and get that grease from Beltram this evening. I don't mind if you stay, this time, I have been too afraid of losing you for good."

"Very well, I will do as you wish, my boy."

Tristam cut the thought stream that he used to communicate with the boy. He was very much anticipating Lucian's next romp with Beltram.

Almost all Tristam's fears of being exposed to sex had been met. He had been captivated by those strange feelings and was quite certain that he would not be able to live on without them. He had not been a simple spectator either. The boy's excitement and pleasure had not been enough for him. He had also wanted to probe Beltram's side of the affair. He felt it more fitting for him; he was no boy himself and had to have the dominant role. He had so enjoyed both sides of the coin at once, quite an experience that he wanted to repeat as often as possible. Of course, he had had to resort to magic to achieve that feat. He had broken all his pledges, forfeited all caution, put everything in jeopardy. He was ashamed since but the temptation had been too great and now he did not think himself capable of resisting these new cravings.

On the good side, it did not appear to have altered his magic powers, as he had feared. On the contrary, they were still there with the same fluctuations that he was used to in the last few years. Another positive side effect was how it had affected Lord Leto, shortening the boy's suffering that afternoon. It had not been intentional he had to say. Tristam had been foolish enough to want to probe Leto himself, leave the boy and his pain to explore the man's pleasure and perhaps gauge the Beast hidden there. His intervention had somewhat heightened the lord's rapture and brought an immediate and formidable orgasm. He could not judge yet what other effect could come of it.

It showed clearly that if his magic was not altered, his judgment certainly had been perverted and he feared he did not have the resource or will to set it right. It did not bode well for the future.

***

"A moment of peace, at last," said Leto as he entered the bedchamber, "welcomed by the two lovely boys.

"At your service, my lord," answered Simver bowing slightly and his voice breaking — intimidated.

Focker, by his side, was tense. He wondered what face Leto would show with the boy. He could be charming and attentive or cruel and violent: mostly the later these last months. It could also be both, which was quite unsettling.

"Do not fear, my child, I want you well rewarded for your skills and victory."

"I was not alone, we worked as a team."

"No, but your actions were decisive. I do hope you will accompany us on our campaign. Is it set Focker?"

"It is my lord. He is among the boys from Belvoir who will come with us."

"Yes, I remember, I chose a few for their looks, and indeed, you are very pleasant to the eye, Simver. Come closer."

The boy obeyed, straightening his back and trying to hide his apprehension.

"I suppose you are no virgin, child."

"No, my lord, sorry, my lord."

"It doesn't matter; on the contrary, we will be able to hasten the preliminaries. Let me see what's hidden under that silk."

Leto delicately unfastened the belt and a few clasps and buttons, slowly uncovering and caressing the boy's charming forms.

"I do have good taste; you will be perfect for this hour or two of recreation."

Focker's breathing had slowed; his muscles were relaxing; he felt responsible for Simver and did not want him to suffer. So far, it seemed to be taking a good turn but he was still on the alert, Leto's mood could change in a moment without notice. He was all the more wary that he had not seen his lord in such a disposition for quite a while now. He feared it could not last. On the other hand, Rand was not there, this was a good omen. He would not be able to sway the lord's mood.

He knew Simver had been warned by Orville to accept whatever was asked of him and never to say no. It was a sound advice that he had repeated himself during the few minutes they had been left alone.

"Focker, get naked and warm the bed for us."

"Yes, my lord."

Leto was playing with the boy's bum and cock and liking what he saw.

"Your cock is responding well. Are you prepared and lubed as I ordered?"

"It has been done, my lord."

"I see." Leto had pushed a finger up the child's anus, "You're tight. I'll love it in there. Get on the bed, on all fours, I need some relief, those counsels of war are exhausting."

Simver did not hesitate, getting into position, head low, and butt high.

"Good, I see that you know the position and what use your bum is."

Leto had shed away his garments; his imposing member was standing straight up and soon was aligned with its target. He was taking his time, placing it in the exposed cleft and rubbing it there.

"Focker give it a few licks," he said, presenting his leaking tool to the boy's ruby lips. After a minute or two, he added, "Enough, let's honor our guest now."

Holding Simver firmly by the hips, his fingers indenting the young flesh, he moved forward steadily but with care to Focker's surprise. There was no question that the two boys were here only to serve him and satisfy his every whims but he was showing some respect for Simver, it was very different from most of the couplings Focker had witnessed since he had entered the lord's service six months before.

Simver was responding perfectly to the man's thrusts, pushing back on cue. Leto's hands had left his hips to travel everywhere.

Focker was asked to join in the act, Leto savoring his sweet mouth and tongue, then letting him do the same with Simver and watching with excitement the play of tongues and lips between the two pretty boys as he accelerated the tempo plunging his throbbing shaft into the moist sweetness of the boy's hole.

Leto felt the change himself. It had started with that jolt when he had touched the prince's cheek, he was quite sure of that but the real turn had been that afternoon with that boy, Lucian. His frame of mind was, as usual, to humiliate and hurt the child but suddenly he had been hit by that formidable orgasm and since then had been thrown back in time when his feelings for boys were of appreciation, affection and love. What had become of him since! From that moment with a greater intensity, he was balancing between his old and new self, with the old one slowly taking precedence. Would it last? He certainly hoped so. Was that curse coming to an end? Would he be able to overcome the shame and guilt of those dark years, that nightmare that took so many young lives? Why had he let Rand visit the Dark Harem this very night?

He wanted only to remember those golden years before the war and the Archons, when he was admired and respected, feared by some but for good reasons. How did that madness take hold of him? How did his love for boys become so perverted, twisted that way? It was still there, those dark cravings for pain and human flesh; the Beast was still there and he was fighting to keep it at bay, if only for a few hours.

Making love with Simver and Focker could only help. Taking a new boy to bed had been such a joyful event in those times, one celebrated by the whole Elysium. There was kind of a ceremony where the boy was coached and dressed by his predecessors, and then brought to him, perfumed with a crown of flowers adorning his head. Now when he called a boy to his bed, he only saw fear, and when he took them, pain and despair. And those were the lucky ones, there were the others held in cages, those that he would defile, torture, kill, and eat more and more often these last years.

The curse had not been meant to end, what was happening? Was there hope, could his soul be redeemed, could he go and embrace his wife and children again and dare face them as husband and father? No more Dark Harem, no more Beast. Was that cycle coming to an end? That looming war against a mysterious enemy: was it his deliverance? He knew how terrible war could be but he was also exhilarated. This was a discipline where he excelled, that he had honed to perfection, in the war room deciding on a strategy but also on the battleground leading the best knights and soldiers, the elite of the kingdom.

It was a wonderful dream, to see his honor restored, his soul cleansed of the Beast and its influence. To be able again to let the light shine over his lands, to reconcile with his true love of boys, to nurture them, educate them and elevate their minds. But only a dream, this respite no more than a painful illusion. The curse was forever, he still felt the enraged, ruthless, and merciless creature fighting and trying to recover its precedence. It had not gone, had not been vanquished; it never would. He would have no choice but to face up to it again and again. In fact, perhaps that creature was nothing else than a part of himself, even worse, his true self, brought to life by the Archon's magic, those terrible cravings, nothing else than his hidden desires. There could be nothing more terrifying than that, to be confronted by all he abhorred and discover that the deformed image in the mirror was himself.

As he came, spending his seed, he embraced the two boys trying to lose himself in their beauty and forget everything else.

***

Rand had visited the place only twice but he remembered the way very well. It was a strange feeling going there alone, Leto's ring held firmly in his right fist. One more turn and he would be in front of the gate. The corridor was silent, the fires had been lit to replace the sun and the mirror system still spread the light everywhere, there was a subtle difference though and you knew it was night outside. He had been so sure of himself before, but now that he was about to enter the Dark Harem, he felt intimidated and hesitant. Everything could be done in there. Would he have the nerve? How far would he go? He had a few ideas, too many, in fact.

He knocked twice and the black door was opened.

"What do you want, boy? This is no place for you." He seemed transparent to the man who was looking beyond him, searching for Leto or perhaps someone else.

"There's only me. I was sent by Lord Leto." He opened his hand and showed the ring, "I am allowed to do here whatever I wish."

The man did not react as Rand expected. He was, like all the others that served in that place, quite impressive with a ruthless almost inhuman expression mixed with an unsettling glee.

"Te'lac, come and see who is at the door."

Te'lac was the worst of them all, seven foot tall, scarred with a shaved and tattooed head, uneven teeth, and small, set back, gray eyes. He certainly was every boy's nightmare in that hellish hole. Boys whose neck or spine he could break effortlessly with his formidable, heavily muscled arms. An Ogre that was what he looked like and he fitted that role perfectly, showing a clear appetite for boy meat.

"What are you doing here?" Faster than the eye could see, he had seized Rand by the neck and lifted him, they were now face to face, the boy confused, his feet dangling and starting to feel some fear; the man, with a strange rictus, which could mean many things.

Was it a joke they were pulling on him or was Te'lac serious and thinking he was contemplating his next dinner, wondered Rand with a shiver.

"See, I have lord Leto's ring, he gave it to me. You must obey me."

"Obey you, you puny thing? I doubt it. Tell me, you stole it?" Te'lac shook the boy, Rand no more than a puppet in the Ogre's hold.

"No, never, he gave it to me. I swear. You know me; I am Rand, one of his favorites! He will be furious when he learns how you treated me! Let go of me!" Rand's voice was strained, his stress rising. From where he was, he could not see the cages but there was a group of boys — all twins, cowering on the exhibition stand where Leto used to pick his next victims. "I'm not like those; I come from a noble family. You have no right. Let go of me!"

"I have no right? I am master here; I am the one who decides what is right. And you're no part of it. Melchior sent you to us for our entertainment; he does that sometimes. Most of the boys here we cannot touch. It can be frustrating."

"What, no, you are mistaken. It was I that wanted to come, no one sent me."

"You see you contradict yourself, you said Leto sent you."

"Yes, or rather no. I asked him to come, to play with one boy here; he said I could do whatever I wanted."

"This is no playground for boys, Rand," Te'lac and two of his henchmen were examining him closely now. Still holding him with one hand, he had the other caressing his smooth thigh going up to fondle his firm buttocks. "But I'll gladly play with you, child, me and my fellow men, and I'll roast that piece of meat there and eat it with great pleasure."

This was no joke, now Rand was sure of it, that stupid monster meant what he was saying. This was terribly wrong, it could not be. Did Leto set a trap for him? Why? They were so much alike, there had to be a mistake. Even in his twisted mind, he could not have forged such an idea. It was unheard of. The boys of the Elysium were out of bounds, even the pages and squires at his service. He had repeated it often enough, the day before, he had refused him Adol, beyond some torment and pain.

"Let's take you to our chambers we don't want those," he indicated the cowering twins by a nod of the head. "To see too much before we know what Leto wants to do with them and in what order. We don't want to risk spoiling his pleasure."

Now, Rand, still unbelieving of what was unfolding nonetheless was starting to panic. But he could not try anything; Te'lac had put his great paw of a hand on his mouth to stifle any cry and immobilized him in a deadly embrace, cutting his breathing.

"Come, my darling, let's get acquainted more intimately. With some luck, Leto will not interrupt us before quite some time. We might share you with him if he wishes for a late dinner. He prefers to be the one that kills what he eats though. We will see."

Rand from a lack of oxygen was slowly losing consciousness: his vision blurred, the voice of Te'lac becoming faint and incomprehensible. This was a nightmare; he was having a bad dream. It couldn't be otherwise.

From far away he heard a light knock on the gate as he was taken away in the dark recesses of the harem, the living quarters of the executioners.

***

The fight was intensifying; Teo was gaining ground, his sword going right and left, high and low searching for a way to get to his opponent, Ladisk. Despite his smaller size and lack of training, he gave all of his energy and mustered all of his skills to give a good impression, and why not, for once, be victorious. Their sister, Teresa, fourteen was watching with interest. She was the oldest and herself a good fighter, she had always been more interested in boy's games than girls' games, being the despair of their mother Lady Otella.

Ladisk, eleven years old, was already quite adept with a sword and could have won the fight in no time, but as the older brother and in the absence of a father, he considered his duty to nurture and teach his younger brother, only eight years old. This was a role he took very seriously even if it was often mocked by Teresa.

Ladisk was moving back under the continuous assault of Teo; he wanted the boy to gain more assurance and to free his initiatives. He was still in mostly draft mode but there was also some inspiration and a welcome will to succeed.

"Good Teo, you are improving greatly," he said.

"You two still have a long way to go. I can tell you," Teresa was saying, when they were interrupted by Landers.

"Boys, girl, it is way past your bedtime. Put those swords away."

As Ladisk was turning toward the man, Teo used the opportunity to touch him with his wooden sword.

"Got you!" he exclaimed proudly.

His brother could have said that he had cheated and that the fight was over but he preferred to bestow him this small victory.

"You did, Teo, you used my lack of attention, which is good. Now get ready for bed. I'll try to have my revenge tomorrow.

"Will mother come and say good night," asked the little boy.

"She certainly will," answered Landers, "as she does every evening. Take off your clothes and wash properly. I'll come check on you in ten minutes."

Lady Otella came not long after, she told a story for Teo that Ladisk listened to with great pleasure even if he said he was too old for them. Then she went to see her daughter in her room, separate from the boys' room.

As she left her children, she met her chamberlain on the way to her chambers.

"All is well, Landers, they will be sleeping in no time."

"They are good children, my lady."

"The best."

"What else a mother could say?"

"That may be true but I really think they are; which is quite extraordinary considering the circumstances."

"Teresa is asking questions, trying to learn more about her father. She barely remembers him now."

"I have heard that. It is only natural; she is growing up, not a child anymore. I would be disappointed if she did not behave that way. She misses her father, they all do. Children need a father."

"They haven't seen him in seven years now."

"And it is as well that way. He has left us alone, which is the best he could do. We are lucky you've been here all these years. You have been good for them and for me. Do not leave us."

"I will not, believe me."

"What about those rumors of war?"

"Do not worry, my lady, they concern the Vale, very far from here. From what I heard, your husband has been given the command of the army. He will defeat any enemy as he has always done."

"Yes but at what cost?"

"I am sure he still loves you. You should not believe what is said by those who do not know."

But I know. I know what he has become and why I forbid him any contact with our children. Even if I still love dearly the Leto of years past.

"You are right, Landers, I don't know what I would have done without you. Good night to you."

"Good night, my lady. I will be watching over you all." And the best is yet to come.

***

Leto felt rejuvenated, the two boys with him were lively and of good nature.

Focker, of course, knew of his darker side, had suffered from it, even if he had no knowledge of the Dark Harem. Simver had certainly heard the rumors and more. But for once, those last two hours had been devoid of any of those influences. It had unfolded as it did before the curse: in a simple way, they had shared a moment of pleasure.

As they rested, with the two boys lying by his sides, he wondered how long that respite would last. It had been so long since he felt that way and could reflect on his future without the ascendancy of the Beast. He had to take advantage of this moment to set things right. The Dark Harem had to disappear; those poor boys had to be freed. He, Leto, had to be punished for all his crimes.

He had to die. That was the only adequate punishment and the only guarantee to see the Beast gone forever.

But there was the war. If Alsoon were to lose, what would become of its people? Was the death of some children, even hundreds of them not a small tribute to ensure the safety of the kingdom?

What was he thinking about? That Beast was still there, lurking around, muddling his thoughts. He certainly wasn't the only one capable to lead the army and defeat their foe. What a folly!

He needed time to think it over and didn't know if he had an hour, a day, or a week, to set it right. Did he have the time to see his wife and children again? Did he dare take the time? The next moon would come fast and the closer it was, the stronger the Beast would be.

He raised himself suddenly, shaken by the urgency and multitude of the tasks ahead, startling the two boys.

"Is there something wrong my lord?" inquired Focker, concerned. "Let me service you and ease your worries." He was already bending over and taking the man's shaft in his mouth, putting his lips and tongue to work. He knew too well of those changes of mood and what they could bring. He didn't want Simver to be exposed to such an outburst. This course of action had worked a few times before, for a time, at least.

"No, Focker." He pulled the boy away from his member, some saliva leaking from the child's mouth. He was gentle. "I have things to do." He stepped out of bed and put on his robes, "Stay here with Simver, I will be back."

His mind was assaulted by all kinds of thoughts, many of them contradictory. He wanted to put an end to everything that was linked to the Beast while knowing that it would put a lot in jeopardy: his family first and the balance of power in the kingdom second. His disappearance could bring chaos in itself, and with a war against a mysterious and powerful enemy, all that he had worked to build could be lost. In his entourage, who would support him in that undertaking? He could see only one, Gravenese, besides a few generals and captains that were not really close to him. All the others were opportunists or people who had favored and fed his descent into darkness.

As he went to that dreaded place called the Dark Harem, he understood that it would not be possible for him to free himself from it all in one day or even a week. There was too much at stake. It would have to happen step-by-step, the first one, that same night, would be to ensure that the boys in that terrible place would be safe from harm. He had to accomplish that in a way that did not antagonize any of his suppliers and executioners. He needed to find support outside of his present clique. It would not be easy; they would be wary, distrust him; think of a trap of some kind. Gravenese would be his messenger, he would tell them that Lord Leto was back and ready to set things right to end that reign of terror and indignity. That is, if the Beast in him did not awaken again and take over. He had no control over that. Or did he? What had triggered this change? It could not be natural? Or was the Beast finally losing its hold on him, was fading away after all these years?

He did not have to knock on the large unadorned door. When he arrived, he was met by Melchior and Rand coming out. As he saw them, a strange anguish overtook him and he felt his resolve falter.

"My lord, I was afraid you had forgotten about us and that you would not come. Your special order has been fulfilled beyond our expectations. It has not been easy; I would have been disappointed if you had not come to see what they looked like. We were about to move them to their cells."

Leto saw immediately that Rand was not his usual self, standing back, almost hiding behind the small man when he should have come forward and boasted about his despicable actions of the night.

Without answering Melchior, Leto addressed him.

"You are silent Rand. That is unusual. What did you do in there? Was your evening entertaining?" As he was talking, Leto was taken up by uncertainty, at the same time horrified by what the boy might have accomplished and curious to hear of his bad deeds.

It is Melchior that answered, appearing unusually concerned.

"There was some kind of a misunderstanding. I arrived just in time to avoid a dramatic incident. We almost lost him."

"Lost him? What was the mix up, I gave him my ring."

Finally, Rand came out of his silence.

"They said I had stolen it. Te'lac wanted to… eat me, like any of the others. They did not listen. Melchior's arrival saved me!"

The boy was clearly shaken by his misadventure. Leto could not refrain a carnivorous smile.

"Eat you, what a strange idea. I told you many times it was not a place for you, not yet. Those men tend to consider any boy that enters it as cattle. I never imagined it could be to that extent. I have to thank you, then, Melchior."

Why was Melchior so concerned by the fate of Rand? He had never seen him show any pity or mercy for a boy. Is Rand one of his favorites? Rand would have made a great roast, he could understand Te'lac; he licked his chops. Those thoughts again, he felt the influence of the place, the terrible and at the same time wonderful memories. The sounds of flesh ripping, of bone breaking, the blood, the tastes, associated with it, like a big wave rising. He wanted to flee, escape from them; vanquish them while being irresistibly seduced. He had to leave or he would be lost again. He did not have much time.

"Very well, let's go see what you brought me, Melchior."

"Won't you punish Te'lac and the others for what they did to me?" Rand was gaining back some of his nerve.

"No. It is the way they think and behave. That's why they are here and do what they do to serve me. I don't see you harmed in any way. Let it be a lesson for you."

He passed the threshold with a strong apprehension, his resolve was still there, but it was greatly diminished and put in peril. There were four pairs of twins in front of him, true ones; he had never thought Melchior would get that many in such a short time. They were looking at him like lambs to the slaughter, which they were meant to be. Te'lac with an occasional prod made sure they kept standing tall and gave him all latitude to examine them and appreciate their assets.

"Lovely, you did good Melchior."

"I must thank my provider, Calbron, he did miracles for me."

Leto could not resist touching, handling those fine specimens, his desire to maim and torture was there, he felt it, the same that had taken hold of him when he had seen the twin princes that first time. The Beast was definitely still there: barely controlled in the recesses of his mind.

Melchior could feel his dark cravings and suggested, "You could waste the two little ones, about eight I was told, keep the others for when we are on the road. It would take you very little time; they are so fragile at that age. Their heads would be on the wall before we leave Belvoir. You could have Rand with you, he dreams of it."

Leto could envision the scene, he was very much tempted, but in a last ditch effort he managed to stop that flow of images, while hard as a rock under his robes, as he had been since he had contemplated the group of twins on the stand.

"No… No, not tonight. It has been a long day and tomorrow we have to prepare for war, this precedes everything else. Te'lac, I want you to take good care of those boys and the others. Make sure they are at their best for when we leave. Treat them well. We will make use of them on the road, as time permits. I shall leave you now. Rand come with me."

As he turned to go back to his chambers, he saw the look of surprise and confusion on Melchior's face that the man could not hide in time. He did not stop pulling a befuddled Rand along with him.

He walked fast, the boy having some difficulty following. He stopped when he had reached the top of the first stairs. He uncovered the boy's loins, tearing away the cloth, turned him around, and penetrated him without delay. It unfolded like the previous night with Lucian. Rand pushed against the wall, held high and firmly as the lord's shaft ravaged his unprepared chute with force and haste, the boy trying to stifle his moans. He spent his seed after a few minutes, letting Rand slide down the wall and leaving him there without a word. Simver and Focker were waiting, who would he be when he reached his chambers?

Chapter Twelve

They had camped in a small clearing away from any road or even a single trail. Two boys were on watch, with two others taking the next shift. The night had been quiet and uneventful, there had been nothing more than cuddling before they all fell to sleep.

In the morning, with their strength and stamina restored, some of the boys had serviced their bonded men but it had been quick, just to fill a natural need. Even for Sandor and Levit whose couplings were often passionate.

They all met around a concealed fire to eat and plan the day's ride.

"I would like to make a small detour through Lacanth forest," said Alina.

"What for?" asked Sandor. "There's nothing there."

"Some of the guerrilla will be there; they could give me precious information on the situation before we crossed the mountains and entered Alsoon. I have been holed up for two week in Cal Ugol without any contact with the outside; I need to know what has been going on in the Vale."

"How would they know?" asked Lorend, doubtful.

"They will. When my father saw that we were losing, he organized the guerrilla and Lacanth forest was to become one of the nerve centers of the operations in this area."

"It is not that much of a detour, only a few hours," said Astar.

"Yes, but any delay augments the risks. Our main goal is to make sure the princess reaches Alsoon," replied Sandor.

"If we go through the plains of Aldur, the most direct route, the possibility of an encounter with enemy forces is strong. There are many towns and villages scattered all over. If we make the detour that Princess Alina suggested, it will be much safer for us, only forest and rocks there," countered Astar.

"You may be right, my friend, let's finish breakfast and get on our way, we have a few hours of riding ahead of us."

The roads and trails they traveled were empty of any presence, whether friend or foe, as usual they had chosen the less journeyed ones and avoided towns and villages, passing only a few secluded farms here and there. They reached Lacanth forest by midafternoon.

"And now, how do we find them?" asked Sandor. "I've never been in these parts."

"Do not worry about that Captain, they will come to us," said Alina. She took an object from her saddlebag and blew into it. Two sounds came out of it that resembled some animal call. She repeated it three times.

"And now we wait."

"If that guerrilla of yours is real and organized they should already know we're there, even without calling to them," observed Lorend.

"Quite right, but it's always better to announce one's presence in times of war," answered Alina.

They did not have too long to wait before three men and boys came out of the trees wearing bows and swords, they looked more like peasants than soldiers.

"Who are you and what do you want?" demanded the taller of them taking an air of importance.

"I am Alina Destiny, your princess, you should kneel before me."

Surprise and confusion could be read on the men and boys' faces but they were soon all kneeling in front of the group of weary riders, their leader having lost most of his haughtiness.

"At your service, Princess Alina, everyone thought we had lost you in the war."

"Not at all, I have been fighting, like you are. I need information and to see those in command. Can you take me to them?"

"Yes, my Princess, as you wish."

"Is it far? I am Sandor el, captain of the guard. We cannot linger here; we have a long journey ahead of us."

"The camp is about an hour from here, Captain Sandor. Best for you, would be to stay the night and leave tomorrow at first light, well fit and rested."

"That seems reasonable. We will follow you."

"Acem el, hurry and announce the princess' arrival," he told one of the boys who left running. "I am Trelon lev, I must stay here with my men and watch the road but Kervan el will take you there. Go fetch your horse, boy."

In a short moment, the towheaded boy, no older than twelve, was back with a small bay horse that he rode bareback. He took the lead, showing them the way to the guerrilla encampment.

Word of their coming had reached the camp ahead of them, and even along the way, people were coming out of the trees to see them pass and kneel for the princess. There were men in arms but also women, children, and whole families that had found refuge there.

"You see, Sandor el, the war is not over yet. We have lost many battles, whole towns and villages have been put to the sword. But more of them have found shelter in our forests and mountains. We will have our revenge and slaughter those inhuman invaders."

"I truly hope so, Princess Alina, but I know it will not be an easy task. They know how to fight; they wield magic and have many infernal and powerful creatures by their side."

The encampment by itself was not much more than a gathering of tents among the trees around two large wood constructions made in haste.

A small committee of what looked like officers and nobles was awaiting them, but many others had assembled all around to see them.

Once they had paid their homage to the princess and were standing again, one of them stepped forward and spoke.

"I am General Gavrain, commander of what is left of our army in these parts and of all the volunteers that have joined us, Princess Alina. We are so glad to see you alive and well in these times of mourning and distress. Your simple appearance will give back our people the courage to fight and free our country."

"Thank you for your welcome general. I came here to assess the situation with you, here and elsewhere, exchange information. I would have preferred a more discreet meeting but it is only natural that the Valeans want to see and honor their princess and I am glad to be able to bring them some hope and resolve."

"Come, Princess, you must be weary. I do not have much to offer but some good food and beverages. Follow me inside; I want you to meet my officers."

They entered the wooden hall where it was clear the general staff held its meetings. Gavrain had Alina take a seat at the head of the large table where maps had been collected.

She would have liked to get to work right away and learn of the state of her country, of what forces were still accounted for, what battles had been won or lost. But, for now, she could not escape the long procession of officers and nobles who each wanted her blessings and a word with her.

Sandor, standing beside her was in the same mood as the princess. They had urgent matters awaiting their attention, and all this was a waste of time. He was scanning the faces when he recognized a man in the gathered crowd. A face he would have preferred never to see again.

The man was also looking at him while waiting, with daggers in his eyes. If looks could kill, Sandor would have been dead by now, that was for sure. What trick did that arrogant fool have ready to pull from his sleeve, wondered Sandor? It was not long before the man's intentions were made clear in front of the whole assembly.

"My Princess, I pay my respects and give you my sword, I, Murgrave el of the Alcomb family. I am sorry to say, also, that the man, who stands beside you, is a dishonored man. The one guilty of stealing my victory under the walls of Cal Lerat for which many of my men gave their lives, he is, I tell you, responsible for this infamy. As you know, he goes by the name of Sandor el of the Torsend. It is my duty to clear my name; I will challenge him in a single combat and make him pay the price of blood."

"What are you talking about, this is nonsense. Do you think this is the time and place to settle old family quarrels?" How can you steal a victory when you are fighting for the same camp and of what victory are you talking about?" said Alina.

Sandor was dumbfounded by the man's words and accusations; interrupting, he spoke up, "I captured their banner and held Cal Lerat for only a few hours. I lost half my men and had to retreat, leaving many innocents at the hands of those demons. How can you talk of victory? It was a defeat for all of us…one of many."

"You can't deny my right to avenge my honor in single combat," said Murgrave.

You could hear the excitement, the many comments of the crowd rustling everywhere. It was said that Valeans were querulous men and this proved it true, they were always fighting each other for one reason or another; or no reason at all. It was clear for everyone that this was a pretext but honor was a precious thing and once put on the table you could not pull it back.

"I accept then but I ask for it to be delayed till we have freed our country of its invaders. This is reasonable."

"And I refuse. We will fight now and you will pay the price in blood."

"And I forbid it," said Alina forcefully, standing up and imposing silence in the large hall. "I will not see our knights kill each other when the Vale is in need of them."

But Murgrave was not to be deterred; he was a stubborn man and wanted to settle this dispute to his advantage.

"As you wish Princess Alina, but if we cannot fight then our boys will do it for us. I'll be waiting for you outside Sandor; it will be over before sunset." He left with a smug little smile.

"What?" said Sandor, who had never thought it could end this way.

"Your boy is no knight, I cannot interfere in that matter," said Alina with regret. "I am sorry, Sandor el, he will have to fight for your honor; there is no other way out of this. Go and prepare him. I will speak with the general and tell you later what I have learned of the situation. I pray that he wins and suffers no injury."

Sandor was desperately searching for a way out but knew there was none. He was cornered, Levit would have to fight, and he would have to hope that the few weeks of training and confrontation with the enemy would be enough to save him, but it would depend considerably on who his opponent was. He had not liked the smile on Murgrave's face, that man wanted to hurt him and he probably knew how fond he was of his eros, had always been. It was quite possible that the whole maneuver had no other goal than to see his boy being killed. He felt a shiver at the thought of losing Levit.

As he left the hall, the news of the announced duel was expanding like a ripple in the water. It was logical to think that no one had told Levit or any of their companions yet of what was about to befall him. Still, as he saw Sandor emerge from the wooden structure, the boy's face was tense as if he already knew that bad news was coming. Murgrave was nowhere in sight, already gone to fetch his own boy, probably.

"What is going on? What is all that commotion about," asked Astar.

"Nothing good, we will be burdened with a duel, can you believe that?"

"A duel, now? Valeans will never change."

"I am quite afraid of that."

"Who has challenged you?"

"Murgrave of the Alcomb."

"You'll take one bite out of him."

"It's more complicated than that."

Levit was listening closely to the exchange, he felt something was amiss, something that concerned him directly.

"That won't be your first, what could be complicated about it?"

"I am not the one who is going to fight."

"Not you? Who else? His grudge is with you and your family."

"Alina sel forbade us to fight, so it will befall on our boys, at his request."

"The bastard."

"Exactly what I thought, but there's nothing I can do. You will have to fight, Levit."

"I will. I am not afraid. I will fight for you, gladly."

"Don't be too enthusiastic, boy; we don't know yet who your opponent will be. Has anyone seen what his eros looks like?"

"No, what I heard is that he was more into women than boys and not too kind with the damsels either. Really a brute, not at all like me," answered Lorend.

"I suppose they'll fight till the first blood, they are boys," said Astar.

"It should be so, that's what I shall demand." Sandor was in fact doubtful about that, Murgrave was an unfeeling moron; anything was possible with his kind, notably the worst.

"It can't be a fight to the death," exclaimed Lorend.

"No, of course not," replied Sandor, a hand on Levit's shoulder.

"Where will that duel take place? When? Do we have time to prepare the boy?" demanded Astar who had understood that the captain's answer was not to be taken literally.

"It will be now; I suppose they'll send someone to take us there. It won't be far."

"What will we fight with?" asked Levit.

"The tradition is sword, hammer, and knife."

"Can I use a shield?"

"No it is not allowed."

"Should we put some chain mail on him," asked Astar, who showed a certain restlessness and added, "This thing is absurd."

"It would give him some protection but slow him down; much depends on his opponent, once again."

"I'll do as you advise, Sandor el." The boy was slowly grasping the seriousness of the situation.

"Here, look, there's a soldier with what looks like the Alcomb colors coming this way," said Safir.

The man stopped in front of them.

"Everything's ready for the duel. I will take you to there," he said.

"Very well we will come, we just need to gather some weapons and armor for the boy," said Sandor.

"Don't take long Murgrave el is not a patient man."

"One of his many qualities," commented Sandor, acidly, while packing a few weapons and protection gear for Levit. "Let's take all of this, we will see later what will be of use."

They all followed the man in a silent procession; anxiety could be read on every face. To survive the siege of Cal Ugol and so many skirmishes and battles with the enemy, and risk one's life in such circumstances was a cruel twist of fate.

They did not have far to go, Murgrave and "his boy" were waiting for them in a small clearing, a servant of Orin was with them as well as a few witnesses as was the tradition.

Murgrave's boy was no boy at all or at least did not look like one. As big as the man himself, he was thick with muscle, handling with ease a hammer as long as Levit himself, obviously his weapon of choice. This was not meant as a duel but as an execution. Sandor was outraged.

"This is a travesty of a duel; my boy doesn't stand a chance against such an opponent. I request it to be over at first blood."

"The rules have to be respected, it is up to the offended to decide on that matter," said the servant.

"But Murgrave's boy is twice the size of mine if not more than that."

"But he is still a boy. Nothing can be done about that," answered the servant, "Murgrave el, you will have the last word, Orin is the god of war, but he can show mercy to those with courage. Tell us of your decision"

"A fight to the death, what else?" he said calmly, looking at Sandor eye to eye."

"I'll kill you bastard," hissed Sandor between his teeth.

"But Princess Alina forbade it. You are helpless. Let the duel begin, I am hungry, and there will be a welcoming meal waiting for us in the hall."

Sandor was looking desperately all around searching for support despite the fact that he knew it would not come from the witnesses or the servant.

"What you are doing will be the true dishonor of your house Murgrave el. Remember that. I request ten minutes with my boy to prepare him."

"No need of that for me, we can start now and be done with it."

"The request is reasonable, you have ten minutes, and then the duel will start."

Sandor and his group gathered around Levit, the poor boy was shaking with fear since he had seen his opponent and heard "to the death."

"He may be big but that doesn't mean he's smart the way you are," said Sandor. "You will have your chances, wait for them, and take your advantage the way you learned to. He may be bigger but he doesn't have your experience."

No one really thought so but there was no harm in telling that to the boy.

"Yes, he thinks the fight is already over but you'll show him otherwise, Levit," encouraged Lorend.

"You must use your speed and agility, he must not touch you with his hammer, not once," kept on Sandor. "You will wear no chain mail or even a helmet, just your sword and your wits." The man was elaborating a strategy as he was talking, "His hammer is heavy, this is a good thing for you; you must tire him, and surprise him."

"But how can I defeat him," stammered the boy.

"Once he slows down and loses power in the swing of his hammer, you must try to pass behind him and cut him, if possible: a slice across his shin as you pass. Your sword must be long and light, like Alina's at the farm. We have one just like that for you. Once he is on the ground, and he can't move he will be all yours."

"Do I have to kill him, really?"

"I don't like it any more than you do but as long as one of you is alive the duel is not over and can resume at any time, in a month, a year. This is up to you, for now all you must think of is winning, avoid injuries and being touched by his hammer."

Sandor embraced the boy and kissed him passionately. All the odds were against him, it was probably the last time he would hold him–still alive. He didn't want to let go. He had to.

"Let's take off everything that can slow you down or hamper your movements, nothing will stop the impact of that hammer if it touches you anyway."

They took off a lot, almost everything, but his underpants and soft leather boots.

"Look at that sword, it is perfectly balanced and has a razor sharp edge, it will be perfect for our strategy; remember, all you have to do is to not to let him touch you, in any circumstance. Don't be ashamed of pulling back and dodge him at all times, don't listen to what the spectators will say or shout at you, stay concentrated, do as I taught you." Sandor ruffled his dark hair affectionately, "You're beautiful and you are mine, come back to me untouched. I know you can do it.

***

It had not been easy for Hegron, the Essence, to convince the Valean boy to participate in his ploy. Both were wary of the other and Erial as a prisoner who had seen his family, his friends…his whole village…slaughtered. He was not keen on believing anything Hegron told him. He knew his life depended on the whim of his demonic new masters and that it was not worth much. Hegron, too, was wary; he could not trust the boy or give him too much information on what he planned to do. The boy could try to take advantage of it: to ask for freedom or anything else and put his plans in jeopardy. His time was short and he could not risk making a mistake.

He had thought on simply using the authority given by his status, after all the boy was a slave meant to serve him in any way he wished. But to be successful it needed more than blind obedience, the boy had to play a part, adapt to the situation, improvise, this could not be obtained by force.

For now, the deal he offered was simple.

"You are doomed Erial, and I think you know it. All of the boys that have kept me company in the past have been killed, one way or another. I don't want it to happen again. Help me and I'll try to help you escape. The wizard has magic books if I could put my hand on one of them we could do great things. He has a crush on me, I think, but cannot touch me on pain of death. Next time we are alone with him we will start playing sexual games. You know what I am talking about?"

"Yes, I'm a Valean," replied Erial.

"It will arouse him, and with some luck, make him forget some of his duties. From then on I will take over, he will have eyes for me only. You are one of many for them, easy to replace. I will lead him on. Best would be if I could have him cross the line, touch me. I doubt he'll have that courage. While he is occupied with me, you will go in his quarters, just to the left of his bedchamber. As you probably know, he has books on magic, full of spells and formulas. Bring me back one or two of them and conceal them here. I am sure I can use them to help you save your life and for my part, I'll finally be able to learn more magic and augment my powers."

"Why don't they give them to you then? You're one of them."

"No, I am different, they adore me, but they fear me also."

"What if I don't want to do it?"

"What have you got to lose? If you're caught you can always say you were obeying me."

"What change would that make, they would kill me anyway."

"True, they'll kill you now or later, you can be sure of that, give you to a vampire, a drak, a heartless, or even something worse."

"Now or later, is not exactly the same."

"As is death or freedom."

"I'll do it."

"Good, as soon as I see an opportunity, I will give you a signal."

Hegron had not told him that besides the books, his main objective was also to save his own life, and that Tael would certainly be an important pawn in that game. If he could really seduce him to the point that he would forsake his vows and join them in their plans, their chance of success would be that much better. A few spells could help but no one knew which ones would be found in the book Erial would bring back. To have the teachings of a wizard and access to all the books, that, would make one big difference. The more he thought about it, the clearer it all became. He had to bewitch Tael and convince him to save him from the sacrifice.

All of that would not be easy. It was not that often that they had a moment alone with Tael. Most of the time there was a guard or servant present, or both, and sometimes it was not Tael that stayed with them but the other wizard Stana. Luckily, for them, with the war and the imminent departure of the army to the east, toward Cal Radul, in preparation for the invasion of Alsoon, there were a lot of comings and goings with most of his retinue occupied with one task or another. Security was more lax than ever and wizards being scarce, Stana was often away. He had to make his move now.

***

In Soonlure, capital of Alsoon, preparations were also at a peak with soldiers everywhere. All of the troops had now arrived and a mighty army was soon to leave to go west, to the Vale of Destiny, with Lord Leto leading it.

Belvoir was bustling with activity and no one had noticed the small group of strange merchants leaving early that morning. That is, no one except Tamerlane, of course, and a few of the king's men who watched the palace attentively. The knight had counted six men, their heads concealed under hoods but the few flashes he had had of their faces confirmed they were of the same kind as the lord he had seen with Melchior the previous day. There were two boys with them, quite striking in their beauty and clearly human, along with three heavily charged packhorses. The knight wondered what was concealed there; he even thought for a moment that the large bags were moving. The "merchants" were probably on their way to meet with Melchior's promised thirty men. They were in for a surprise when they arrived at their destination, a welcome committee would be waiting for them. The information gathered from that conversation had been invaluable; the king had sent back his appreciation of Tamerlane's work. Thanks to him, they knew that Melchior was working with the invaders in the Vale and was fomenting a rebellion, with Leto playing a large part in his schemes. The king could not, without proof, replace him at the head of the army, anyway he didn't really want it to happen; he needed him, his unlimited resources, and leadership qualities. That was the whole point of sending Arthur with him, to free him from his curse. At the same time, he could not let him stay in position if he was planning to turn against him or perhaps even ally with the invaders. They needed more information, more details on the enemy's plans and nature.

As much as he wanted to be there when they attacked Ramatel, Lady Odella's residence, and see their true faces, he preferred to stay close to Melchior and Leto and try to learn as much from them as possible. He also had the prince to watch over.

One option would be to capture Melchior and have him talk. But, by experience, Tamerlane knew that some people didn't talk, then there was magic involved and that would tell the enemy that some of their plans had been uncovered. No, it was better to let the events unfold and try to learn from them. Leto was under the influence of the Beast, his judgment tainted; if the prince was successful and could destroy it, then, much of the enemy's plans would be vanished.

He had no doubt that the supposed merchants were in fact of the same ilk as the creatures that had invaded the Vale. They would know soon enough when they were taken or killed at Ramatel.

He had wanted to spend the day watching Melchior, but the little man was elusive and not easy to follow without being seen. Later in the day, Melchior returned to the part of the palace where the boys had been taken, and where an unpleasant atmosphere reigned. It smelled of dark doings and cruelty. Bertram had been there the whole morning and reported that, like the army and Leto's retinue, they were packing and moving the boys elsewhere, many boys. He told of his findings while they were returning to their apartments.

"They are taking them out, a few at a time, I saw some of the twins you described to me and others too, at least twenty in all. The men with them are dressed all in black and look like brutes; the boys were pitiful and terrified. I followed such a group and arrived in a courtyard where three large covered wagons were waiting and being filled with them. They were massive things made of metal, a prison on wheels," said Bertram

"I thought those boys were meant to feed the Beast but there are too many of them. It can kill only but a few, each full moon. What are they for?"

"Now that we've seen Leto up close, I think they are meant for his twisted pleasures. He plays with them, kills them, and eats them; he is now more Beast than man."

"That would explain why he would want to ally with the invaders, they are very much alike. I wonder if the prince has a chance of changing him. Even if he takes out the Beast what kind of a man will be revealed after all these years?"

"We must save those poor boys; we can't leave them to that fate."

"Unfortunately, Bertram, there is nothing we can do at the moment. We need to learn more, identify all those that conspire against Alsoon and the king. We cannot reveal anything of our findings yet, or act upon them."

"I understand, but it is difficult to accept."

"We will continue playing our parts but the time will come when they'll have to pay for their crimes, count on it. I'll be there."

"And I'll be by your side. Now we have to prepare for our departure, tomorrow. Lucian and William will be looking for us."

"Yes, I'll let you inform Tristam and the prince of what we have learned; you truly love to spend time with that boy, Lucian."

"Yes, he is very dear to me. I hate to have him exposed to such dangers and to the whim of Leto. Not being able to protect him, only there to comfort him."

"And make love to him; you're so romantic. I'm sure last night was full of passion, even if you're not as vocal as I can be. Our duties have some pleasurable aspects since we arrived here–so many boys available. This will be my last night with those two pretty pages and I plan to make the best of it, believe me."

"Why not take them with us, we can say that we need boys to serve us during the campaign, which would only be natural and give the right signal to those who watch us. For we are watched, there is no doubt of that. It took me five minutes to lose a few of these lookouts this morning."

"Same for me. Yes, I would love to keep those two and that would help us look innocuous, only preoccupied by having young flesh in our beds. I like it."

"We better be careful of what we say around them though. There is no one we can trust in this place except for the few king's men we know of."

"You're right but at the same time those are Belvoir boys; they are less likely to be on Melchior's side."

"Time will tell. Look, here is Lucian."

The young boy was talking with Silla and Estam.

"Ah, here you are, we were wondering where you had gone. I was about to send these two looking for you."

"We were not far, just looking at the preparations and the new troops that have just arrived. It seems tomorrow is the day."

"Yes, on my part everything is packed and ready to go. I can't refrain feeling some excitement."

"War can do that to young boys, my few experiences of it have not yet taken away such feelings which is strange when you know what it is really like," said Bertram.

"You must tell me of it, I only know what I've read in books."

"I will, we will have plenty of time on the way to the Vale and the journey will soon look very boring and strenuous to most of us."

"We will travel with Lord Leto, with his pages; we've made a few friends among them."

"That is a very good thing, we will follow just behind; we will be able to see each other often."

"I sure wish so."

No one could miss the look of complicity and intimacy that Lucian sent to the knight at that moment.

"Speaking of pages, we have decided, Tamerlane and myself that we were in need of at least two for the trip and we thought you, Silla and Estam, would be perfect for that task. I suppose we should talk to Orville to make our request."

The two boys looked surprised and unsettled by that declaration.

"Yes, we can tell our overseer. He will decide."

"You don't seem too enthusiastic? Don't you want to go on an adventure rather than stay here at Belvoir? Don't you like our nights together?" teased Tamerlane, curious to hear what would be their answer.

"Sorry, but this is unexpected," said Silla, sending a glance to Estam, searching for the right answer. "We have never left Soonlure and these last years, Belvoir; we never expected…"

"I am sure Orville will give his consent, do you have parents in town?"

"I have. I'll have to let them know," said Estam. "Silla is an orphan."

"Go then and come back as soon as it is settled. We have one more night here before we go," concluded Tamerlane, sending them on their way with a gentle tap on their bums.

"I hope you are gentle with them, Tamerlane," said Lucian, pensively. He had not seen Leto that day or been called by him as the lord had promised to do. Probably too busy, which was fortunate, still, until the day was over, the boy would be anxious.

"I am always gentle with my boys even if I have great needs, that's why having two of them is quite convenient," said the knight. "Where is the prince?"

"Inside, reading, there was no training today. Everyone is packing and readying for war. We should meet with Simver and Miniver later to play some games."

"Boys will be boys, and that is a good thing. I'll leave you with Bertram he has information for Tristam. And I'm sure you'll appreciate a little time together, while I brief William."

They all entered the apartments, Bertram taking Lucian to his bedroom, kissing his brow while one hand cupped his tender rump.

Once there, he addressed the Magi and gave him all the information they had gathered, being careful not to forget anything, even the smallest detail.

It was always strange for Bertram to speak with the Magi through the boy, without even considering, on other occasions, whether Tristam was there witnessing their more intimate relationship. Lucian had told him that it had been agreed he would go away at those times, still the doubt and unease lingered.

There is nothing more that he would have liked to do than take some time and make love to the charming boy in front of him, but so close to his talk with Tristam he didn't dare.

The Magi himself was torn between contradictory desires and duties. He was angry with himself for having taken such risks the other day. It was now confirmed that Melchior was dangerous for their endeavor, perhaps even more dangerous than Leto. He had to stay away from them both, as well as from Bertram. But the craving was there, he knew that the knight wanted to take the boy at this moment, and he, himself, desired nothing more than to see him follow through with it. He would touch his mind, and again feel those exquisite sensations, not only the physical, but the emotional ones as well. Why had those delights been banned from him and his likes for centuries, in what measure could they be detrimental? If he had been exposed before, he would be less obsessed by them and he could concentrate on their goal.

And there was something else that perturbed him: he had touched Leto's mind, he had felt the Beast there, pushed it away in a reflex of defense. What effect did that contact have on Leto? Would it be beneficial or have a counter effect? Since then, new images had seeped into his mind, full of a dark and old evil. He had savored the lure of their abominable practices, when man and Beast became one. He had been infected and needed to cleanse himself. He had to stop this flow of tempting thoughts, all of them, good and evil. They were so seductive. Would he have the strength to do so?

***

There were few mourners around the grave, the sky was dark with a cold drizzle falling. It could have been welcome after these rather hot days.

The hole was filling slowly with dark clods of earth covering the simple sheet that shrouded the body.

The boy had not been of noble extraction; just an orphan like many these days and the crowd of excited and vociferous spectators had lost interest in the loser's sad fate.

Sandor was there with Astar and Lorend, their boys had stayed at the camp; it was better that way. He wanted to confront Murgrave one last time but the man had not even deigned to show up.

There would be retaliation after the war; Sandor would be biding his time. Everyone had known that Levit could not win this fight. It was against all odds…

Chapter Thirteen

The hammer flew and this time did not miss. Levit staggered back, blood flowing from his scalp. Unfortunately, it was due to happen. The end was near…

Crowds were a strange thing, cheering one moment, booing the next. This crowd was no different, perhaps more fickle than most: shouting support first for Levit, and then Cuiran, Murgrave's boy; changing back and forth for no apparent reason, or was there? They were not here to back any of the boys, who was their champion did not matter, all they wanted was to be entertained and forget their own precarious situation. It was difficult for Sandor to watch the fight, fearing at every moment that Levit would be hit by that murderous sledgehammer. After having supported him for a time, the crowd had soon tired of seeing him retreat and dodging his much bigger and stronger adversary. They indeed wanted to see a fight, and they wanted blood, not an endless chase. Cuiran, in the same way, had been amused at first but now was annoyed. Despite his size and stature, he was said to be only fourteen, close to fifteen years old. The good thing was that he appeared to be a bit dull, not able to anticipate Levit's moves. The bad part was that he was a brute and you saw his eyes shine when the hammer missed the smaller boy within a hair, which happened often. Levit was trying his best to be courageous; he wanted his captain and lover to be proud of him, whatever the outcome.

Sandor wanted to be hopeful, wanted to be convinced, that the strategy they had decided upon could work, but it was evident that his boy, his love, didn't stand a chance. Murgrave was there looking at him as much as at the fight, clearly delighted by the distress he tried to hide. Sandor could not leave, nor could he wish for it to be over. He was tormented, more than at any other time in his life. He had to watch and endure.

As Cuiran swung the sledgehammer, the crowd pulled back, giving Levit some breathing space and a chance to escape his impending death. Sandor could only hope that it would be fast and as painless as possible. He feared though that his adversary had other plans, he had seen him holding back as if he wanted to harm or injure Levit to keep the fight going and play with him some more. Was it the boy's decision or Murgrave's direction, he could not say.

"Come on, Levit, you're doing good, keep at it like that, he'll get tired soon," encouraged Astar when the boy came close.

The man was right, that long and impressive hammer had to weigh a lot and even a seasoned warrior would feel ache in his arms after swinging it like that for some time. But they had not yet reached that point and at any moment, Levit's life was in the balance.

The boy was doing his best, what choice did he have? Going right and left, forward and backward turning around his opponent, not taking his eyes off that dreadful hammer, being careful to always stay beyond its reach. He tried not to be disturbed by the shouts coming from the crowd but it was not easy and he was wary of it, he had been pushed twice and almost lost his balance when he had come too close to it. He had hoped they would be on his side but that was not the case. Their mood was changing from one moment to the next without evident rhyme or reason.

As time went slowly by, the space around the two opponents had become larger, gaining at least ten feet in diameter, the spectators wanting to keep a good distance from that swinging hammer. It was good for Levit who was less impaired in his movements but it would not change the outcome.

It had to happen sooner or later, Levit was hit and sent sprawling to the ground losing his sword. The hammer had grazed his head, and you could see blood. The boy seemed stunned and Cuiran reacted immediately to ensure his advantage. He did not want to give a fatal blow, as Sandor had feared. He targeted the younger boy's leg to impair him and leave him at his mercy. He raised the hammer and then let it fall halfheartedly. He wanted the fight to go on a little bit more, show his prowess. Levit saw it coming and at the last moment was able to roll and escape the blow, getting back on his feet an instant later, weaponless. Blood was running down his face and most of the spectators saw, at last, the cruelty and futility of that duel. Silence reigned now from the crowd, as people watched and expected the fatal blow to be delivered. There was only the random cry or shout heard amongst the spectators, interrupting the quiet intensity of the moment. The killing time had come.

With two hands on the long handle, Cuiran raised his sledgehammer high above his head and made a second powerful thrust downward. The head of his massive hammer took him forward and down at the waist, and became buried in the hard packed earth. Had Levit been able to use his sword it would have been a perfect opportunity to wield it but it was not so. Still he was able to use this opportunity to pick it up from the ground with a cheer from the crowd while he brushed the blood away from his eyes with his free hand.

The duel had been going on for close to thirty minutes, an eternity for Sandor. He admired the boy's stamina and courage, Levit was following to the letter all of his counsels and holding up. Many in that time would have made the fatal error to try to attack and use their sword, not Levit, who bade his time. The blow had shaken him but he did not show any apparent lasting effect in the minutes that followed, his moves and dodging were as fast and effective as before. His skin was glistening with sweat, his well-balanced body at the ready, the long young muscles in his arms and legs taut and perfectly defined when he tensed them. His hair disheveled, his sweet face determined. He was truly beautiful, and watching him, Sandor had never been transported with emotions of such intensity, to the point that it almost brought tears to his eyes.

Cuiran's swings were now less frequent, more rushed, and not as precise. As predicted, he was tiring. That was the most dangerous moment for Levit now that he had survived this long. He had to wait some more and not try anything yet, resist the lure those first signs gave him. He was definitely good, much better than Sandor could have hoped him to be. He started a dance around Cuiran, circling him, dashing from side to side while staying at a good distance, provoking him relentlessly. It was working but how long could he himself sustain that rhythm.

The crowd was now cheering him and chanting his name:

"LEVIT EL, LEVIT EL, LEVIT EL…"

"Do you think he can make it?" asked Sandor to Astar with some hope in his voice for the first time.

"No," answered the man, "but I do pray for him."

As if to give credit to Astar's words, Levit fell at that instant, one foot stuck in a hole in the ground, created earlier by the hammer. The chant stopped, and holding their breath, they all saw Cuiran, deadly weapon raised, rush toward him. This time it was clear he did not intend to play anymore, he was going to deliver a deathblow. The hammer came crashing down. In his haste, or maybe it was fatigue, Cuiran missed. Levit, freeing his foot, escaped the fatal blow by an inch. Cuiran quickly swung again, and missed a second time as the smaller boy stood up with a grimace. He was limping but did not let go of his chance this time, the hammer seemed to be stuck in the ground, Cuiran trying to lift it desperately, his muscles had given out; it was suddenly too heavy. Levit was on the attack and slashed at the arms that held it, cutting deep through the leather paddings. Cuiran had no other option but to let go of the handle with a cry of pain.

Sandor could not believe his eyes, Levit had the advantage now and it was Cuiran that was stepping back holding his bleeding arm.

It was a duel to the death, Levit had accomplished an extraordinary feet but killing Cuiran was going to be even more difficult for him, he had no other choice if he wanted it to end, once and for all. He was looking around to find Sandor's face and guidance. He swayed from side to side, his sword out in front of him and always facing Murgrave's boy, keeping him from his weapon, he wasn't a fool.

"You have to finish the job, boy," shouted Murgrave certain he would never get to it.

"KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL," came the chant from the crowd.

"No, I can't do it," mumbled the boy, taken aback.

"He has to," said Astar," otherwise the duel will resume after Cuiran el has recovered, tomorrow, in a week, or in a year, whenever he decides."

"KILL, KILL, KILL…" The crowd wanted the big boy's blood.

"No, please, no. I don't want to kill him," said Levit as in a prayer.

The servant of Orin stepped forward.

"If both parties agree, we can stop the duel now but it will resume as soon as the boy has recovered from his wound and wants to fight again. Is that what you want boy?"

Levit was quite aware that it was a question without an acceptable answer. In one case, he had to kill the boy, in the other it meant fighting again and probably being the one that was killed.

"You must answer boy. The duel is still ongoing."

It was, indeed. Cuiran had moved closer, pulling out a concealed knife to jump at Levit and it was the servant of Orin that saved his life. The man had turned his head looking at the suddenly advancing boy, and Levit, seeing a shadow out of the corner of his eye simply raised his sword by reflex. It was the attacking boy's own momentum that sent the blade through the leather cuirass he was wearing and that, without effort, pierced his heart. He was dead almost instantly. Levit, letting go of his sword was himself swept from his feet to hit the ground on his back while his adversary's hand, holding the knife, continued its lethal course toward his exposed chest.

Sandor rushed to him, seeing Cuiran on top of Levit and that dreaded knife sticking out from Levit's torso. As he came closer, he saw the boy turn his bloodied head to look at him and smile. For, indeed, he had not been harmed. The knife that was sticking up, was, in fact, planted in the ground between his chest and his arm.

The duel was over, against all odds, Levit had won.

The crowd was cheering, Cuiran's lifeless body was pushed away to let the boy raise himself. Murgrave had left without a word to mull over his defeat.

Sandor embraced the boy and then took him into his arms, as he would do for a much younger child kissing him all over his face.

"Careful, you're crushing me," said Levit.

"Let me take care of you, love of my life, I have feared for you every minute, we need to check your pretty head, I want to be sure you're alright and that I can keep you for a few more years."

Now that it was over, the boy was feeling dizzy and abandoned himself in his lover's arms, closing his eyes. It seemed that the nightmare had finally ended.

They left the guerilla camp early the next morning, just after the burial ceremony. Sandor had decided that Levit was fit for travel, though his head was still slightly ringing from the hammer blow. He had seen General Gavrain's physician in the evening who said he had suffered no serious injury. Anyway, leaving him behind was out of the question. The night had been quiet, he had let the boy rest even if all he thought about was to make love to him, he had been so afraid to lose him he wanted to hold him in his arms and assure himself through the pleasures of the flesh that death once again had been vanquished. He would certainly catch up on that as soon as possible.

***

Alina had been informed of the situation in the Vale by the general and his aides. It seemed the invaders were getting more reinforcements every day from the east and massing troops to the west, probably preparing for their attack on Alsoon. They had creatures of all kinds roaming the countryside to capture or exterminate what was left of the Valeans, whose only hope for protection rested now with the guerillas.

In a very short time and thanks to the Valeans querulous nature the guerillas had developed into an effective force, able to bring Valean refugees to safe havens and wage sporadic warfare against the invaders. Attack, kill, and quickly disappear into woodlands and mountains was their tactic. They were leading a war of attrition. This was important for the princess for it would give her the opportunity to keep a more or less equal relationship with the king of Alsoon. Even weakened, the Valeans were still fighting and could weigh in on the final outcome. Of more interest to Sandor were the nature and number of the enemy troops they could meet on their way to the mountains, but on that matter, there was little reliable information, the only known fact was that more and more of the invaders were going west.

Alina had been careful not to disclose their true destination or their intention to seek help in Alsoon, they were just going from one guerrilla camp to the next, to galvanize the troops and gather information. It was always possible that the enemy had spies in the camps and the princess would certainly be an important target for them. They left going south before veering west again and soon discovered that they were indeed followed.

***

The Army was on the march.

Leto had left Belvoir surrounded by his pages, all wearing their war gear and followed by the blue guard. They had made a great impression in the streets of Alsoon. They joined with the rest of the troops on the outskirts of the city, thousands upon thousands of men all marching in the same direction on the roads and in the countryside in long columns. Right behind the troops were the supply wagons, no less numerous to feed, serve, and equip such an army and with them all those that would be necessary to achieve that: cooks, laundrywomen, smiths, carpenters, grooms, whores of both sexes and all ages…

The boys riding with Leto were at the peak of their excitement: their great adventure had finally begun! Who would not be when you saw the grandeur of it all? The sun reflected on the cuirasses, helmets, and shields, with splendidly colored banners and capes fluttering in the wind. It was a stunning display of power and might. They felt proud and invincible, walking tall, riding tall, despite the heat of the day and the sweat that soaked them under their armor. None of them thought of the blood and mayhem that awaited them when they reached their destination.

William and Lucian could not resist being swept over by the same sentiment and feelings that they were part of this magnificent armada. They rode just behind Leto, Rand, and Focker. The two favorites had been holding the lord's banners and each time a new regiment joined the march its colors were added to those already on display at the head of the column. It was exhilarating and any undertaking they could think of seemed within their reach.

They halted just after crossing the river Satine, known for its calm waters. It was time to take off the hot and heavy armor and change into clothes more comfortable. Tents had been set up already with food and refreshments, and as with all things concerning lord Leto, it was grand and another demonstration of the man's vast wealth. For him it was back to leather, for the pages the less they wore the better. It was an unwritten rule and it was obvious that they would all observe that rule.

Leto was still fighting the Beast's influence, not letting down his guard. He now strongly suspected that William's presence was soothing for him and helped him to push away his cravings for flesh and blood. It had all started with that first contact on the prince's arrival, that sting of electricity when he had touched him. He had no idea how it could be or why it was so and wondered if he should ask Melchior. So far, he had refrained from doing so, Melchior and the Beast appeared to him more and more as two sides of the same coin. Since they had dismounted and the boy had left his side, those dreadful appetites had been back with a vengeance. Without Melchior, these abominations would have been much more contained and perhaps even revealed long ago. Many children's lives would have been spared. All those years he had needed and appreciated the man's help. He had appeared just at the right moment offering his services and connections, his discretion, his silence, never asking for much in exchange. Leto resented his presence at first but as his dependence to his forbidden desires grew, the little man had become a necessity, yet now he was starting to despise him again.

It seemed Leto was returning to his true self but there were relapses and he feared that there could be a time when he would lose control with one or the other of his pages. Maybe it would be more reasonable to pay a visit to those destined to feed the Beast to satiate, for a time, that terrible hunger. That temptation was always present. The curse was far from vanquished.

He had fixed in his mind the images of the twins bought for him by that so efficient little man, Melchior. He craved all the terrible things he could do to them. It would be so easy, so pleasurable. They were close, certainly no more than a few minutes ride away, he could go to them, or have them brought to him.

His busy schedule of the previous days had been precious in helping him focus on the matters of war and forget what had become his obsession these last months. He needed to find a new derivative for this flow of thoughts, riding all day with the army was soon to become extremely boring. He decided that some sexual release could be a good remedy.

He could choose between his twenty pages, elevated to the rank of squires during the campaign, all at his disposal day and night, not counting the young servants who catered to the needs of his retinue. He would not run out of bed warmers and the welcome distraction they provided.

Lucian would have suited him perfectly, he was an obvious contender; the boy had given him great pleasure. It had been after their last meeting that he had felt, with force, the need to resist the Beast's influence but it could not be. At that time he had wanted to hurt the boy and through him Prince William. He did not think that the boy, out of shame, would have talked of it to anyone though. That state of mind was mostly gone now and he could not ask for the boy openly with William present. He would have to do with some of the pages, well squires now. He had been quite demanding with Rand and Focker the last night and wanted novelty on this first day on the road. He looked all around searching for one or two that could please him.

Etos would be perfect, eager to please and wanting to move into his good graces, he would not complain if this first time with his lord were somewhat unpleasant or even painful. Yes, those ideas were with him again. Where was the prince? He scanned anxiously the assembly of scantily dressed and beautiful boys but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Etos!"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Come with me, my cock needs your services."

"Of course, my Lord."

Etos came from the Elysium and therefore was a virgin. Nonetheless, he showed no apprehension and even a certain enthusiasm. It seemed the boy's ambition had quieted his qualms, for he knew very well Leto's reputation and the rough ways he often used in his dealings with boys. Etos should have shown less eagerness, for in the absence of the prince, it was the Beast that had the upper hand. Leto felt his worst desires thriving. How terrible and seductive they were.

The lord placed his hand on the boy's fragile neck, loving the contact with his fresh and smooth skin, the tickling of the peach fuzz there. They would have their fun in Leto's tent that was set up every day to provide the lord with a place to sleep and be entertained all the way to the Vale. It was a large structure with different rooms suited for different purposes, a reception area large enough to be converted to a dining hall. A bedchamber and smaller private area for more discreet business dealings, a servant's area from which food and drink was served. It had all the luxury and comforts that could be expected. When he was not the guest of one of the king's vassals he would spend most nights there and if tired or bored it would provide rest or distraction, even during the day.

It took two hours to be set up and again to dismantle. It was mounted on a low platform that would be covered with the finest carpets. The partitions inside the tent were made of precious woods decorated with tapestries to ensure a richly ornate décor as well as provide the privacy Leto would need. Once inside you could forget you were in a tent. In fact, there were two such structures transported each by eight large wagons so that when one was in use the other was on its way to the next location.

Before entering, and fortunately for the young boy, Leto had one last moment of mercy, he said to Focker and Rand, who were always by his side and ready to please, "Go, fetch the prince, and have him wait for me in the antechamber." If he was close by, perhaps the child's plight would be alleviated and shorter, "And I don't want to be disturbed in the next hour."

Arthur and Lucian had left the others to watch the army pass by, fascinated. They tried to find the name, origin, and purpose of each regiment, learning their colors, admiring the uniforms, armor, and particular equipment. There were light cavalry units, archers, pikemen, heavy infantry, and cavalry with mail and plates and many others. They came from all over the kingdom, the plains to the west, the forests of the north, the desert to the south, the mountains to the east and even from the far away islands.

Miniver was with them, obviously still smitten with the prince, Lucian could easily recognize the signs, having seen them often enough in Bertram. William had no other choice than to ignore them as much as possible, they were incompatible with the mission that had been bestowed upon him by his father and that weighed heavily on his shoulders. So far, he had been successful and put Miniver out of his mind.

He enjoyed the view, the day felt great, it was the first time that he saw such a deployment of the kingdom's might, his kingdom, over which he would reign one day, and to be a part of it, marching with them to war and victory was a wonderful feeling. They felt unstoppable, invincible, and whatever enemy was waiting for them in the Vale would be vanquished, with the confidence of youth they could see no other outcome to this conflict.

"Do you know how long it will be to get to the Vale?" asked Miniver.

"We were told the same as you, close to three weeks. Such an army cannot move very fast," answered William.

"I heard the rumor that lord Leto planned to take the cavalry and get there as soon as possible. He has never been known to be a patient man," said Miniver

"I doubt it. He has the reputation of a great strategist and he has won more battles than my father's generals have all together. I don't think he would risk facing a mostly unknown enemy with only a small part of the forces at his disposal. What was the point of waiting for this army to be assembled otherwise?"

"You must be right. We want to believe such rumors because we are all impatient to get to the Vale and fight."

"Do you think he'll let us fight?" asked Lucian. "I don't know if I am ready for that. This will be a real war, not like our games with wooden swords and blunted arrows."

"I see what you mean. It is scary but so exciting at the same time."

"I don't think he'll send us onto the battlefield, he'll rather use us as messengers, things like that. But I think everything is possible with him. He is scary too," said William

"Yes, we all heard the stories."

"You are part of the Elysium? How was it there, what did you see?" asked Lucian.

"I believe life there isn't that different than at the Royal Palace or Belvoir for what I saw of it, nothing really worth telling you about. In any case, in my time, no one saw the Beast or anything coming close to it."

The two other boys were rather disappointed at these words, they expected more from their friend.

"What about Leto himself?" insisted William.

"I understand why you would ask," said Miniver. "These last months he did not visit us that often. He took one of us to bed from time to time and wasn't too kind with him, that is true. All of us boys in the Elysium must be virgins, and that said, we did find many ways to pleasure each other while reserving our backside for our Lord."

The boy blushed, those Elysium boys were not that special in the end, thought Lucian.

"You never went to bed with him?" he asked.

"No, I was never chosen and did not have many occasions to be close to him or talk with him. After all, there are one hundred boys in the Elysium. I've seen much more of him since we left Westerfield. I was very proud to be among the few that went to Soonlure with him and grateful for the chance given me to meet you." Those words were clearly addressed to William.

Lucian smiled, seeing the prince's embarrassment, he was sure that the interest was reciprocal but William could not encourage the other boy, or for now, let him expect anything more than friendship. Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by Focker.

"I finally found you. The lord has been asking for you, Prince William."

"What does he want of me?"

"That, he did not say. You are to wait for him in the antechamber, I'll show you."

"What is he doing in there?" asked Lucian.

"He is enjoying a moment with Etos." …Focker seemed concerned when he said that.

"That boy has been wishing for that for a long time, why are you pulling such a long face about it?" asked Miniver.

"I know the Lord, all too well. I didn't like the look in his eyes. I fear Etos will learn of the downside of being too close to him."

Lucian had a clear idea of what Focker meant.

"Is there nothing that we can do?" he asked.

"I fear not. He ordered not to be disturbed."

"Let's go there as he demanded, I am perhaps the only one that can have a say in the matter," said William, remembering his intervention on his first evening at Belvoir.

Five minutes later they were in front of the tent, Rand with a derisive smile was waiting for them.

"You were too long, Focker, Lord Leto left already, he was not too pleased when he did not see the prince waiting for him."

"But I was gone less than thirty minutes?" The boy was obviously upset by this turn of events. You do not displease Leto without consequences, even as one of his favorites.

"Whatever, you might feel a touch of the whip when he comes back."

"Don't take Rand too seriously," said William. "I think he might be taking you for a ride there. I'll talk on your behalf anyway, if necessary. So what do we do now, Rand?"

"You do as the lord said, you wait for him, it might take some time though, you'll have to be patient."

"Where did he go? Where is Etos?" asked Miniver.

"That is none of your business. You're free to go, I'm sure there are chores waiting for you."

"Very well, I'll see you later, William," said the boy, not daring to oppose the vindictive favorite.

The prince and Lucian went to sit in the antechamber to Leto's domain trying to show only contempt and indifference toward Rand's words and attitude. William observed a fresh stain close to the threshold, and he touched it out of curiosity. Could it be… blood?

***

The wizard Tael was alone with the boys, it was a rare occurrence, no guard or servant around, they were all occupied with the preparations for their imminent departure from Cal Ugol, a large part of the troops had already left.

He had, at the same time, anticipated and feared such a moment. Hegron was the most beautiful boy he had ever laid eyes on and he could not resist being attracted, seduced, by his sweet nature and lovely forms.

He should have told Stana and ask to be replaced. He knew what would be the boy's fate when they reached the Archon's tomb. It was a dreadful concept that he had great difficulty accepting. He wanted to do all he could to make those last weeks with him the most agreeable and untroubled that he could for the boy. At the same time, he had to resist getting too close to the child and quiet his own more carnal desires.

He had at his disposal a few hundred Valean boys and had found a way to keep a few long-haired blond boys in a cage that he visited when he had a moment of freedom. He made good use of them. They could not replace Hegron, but they made an acceptable second choice and he could do whatever he wanted with them. He was like those vampires who visited the Essence and as soon as they left, drained the first Valean boy they caught. He had to be discreet about it though, first, because of the boys likeness with the Essence and because wizards were not allowed to be active sexually. It was said it altered their magic. It did cost him a lot of money to keep it secret and he had to share them with the two vampires who owned them. But active he was, drowning himself in the mass of their young flesh, embracing them all as he sunk his manhood in one after the other, trying to forget the one that would really satisfy him – Hegron.

Touching Hegron was out of the question, it would be the cause his own death if he did and more.

He didn't know how he would manage when they arrived at the tomb and the boy was taken from him. Another worry was that as soon as they left Cal Ugol he would be deprived of his select playthings and would have to do with the occasional slave or captive.

As those thoughts swirled in his head, he tried to ignore Hegron. He had to find an occupation that would allow him to take his mind away from the stunning child. But it was impossible. The purpose of his presence was to not only watch over the child physically, it was also to control and monitor his magical abilities. That was one of their greatest fears. He was the son of an Archon and as such had certainly inherited some of their power. They needed a wizard present to constantly ensure that those powers were contained and would not develop, as they should, even without the use of any book. The end or rather the new beginning was close, nothing should put in peril the sublime sacrifice. They honored the Essence but they also feared it and most of all wanted to use him to get their revenge, he was the gate to their return to glory, the key to their domination of all things and beings.

"Tael."

"Yes, Hegron?"

"Do you like boys?"

"Of course I like boys, who doesn't."

"Who would you prefer to take to bed? Erial or me?"

"No one can take you to bed Hegron, you are sacred."

"But what if I wanted to take Erial to bed?"

"You cannot do that either, it could alter your Essence."

"Who cares about that? You never let me near any magic book, or teach me the slightest spell. I am having feelings towards Erial that I never had before. Come here Erial, and show Tael what you've taught me."

"What are you talking about? You've been watched and it's strictly forbidden as you both very well know!"

Ignoring the wizard, Erial took Hegron into a tender embrace, their mouths and tongues meeting in a passionate kiss; their hands intertwined and playing with their cocks while the other hand reached around and kneaded their fleshy buttocks.

"What's wrong with that? Too bad you're not allowed to participate, you don't know what you are missing," said Hegron between mouthfuls, taunting the man.

Tael at first did not know what to do. His duty was to make them stop but his raised cock was telling him another story, he was enraptured by the vision of the two boys, he wanted more; he wanted Hegron for himself and no one else. He had trespassed so many rules already, one step at a time, just to avoid going that one step further, it was the only one left, the only one that really counted, that was the natural conclusion to all those that came before, that led to that decisive moment. He was on a path to catastrophe, had been since he had first met the boy, but could not find the strength to stop it. He acted accordingly, and there was nothing else he could do.

He teared Erial away from Hegron, not too gently.

"No, you are mine, Hegron, and nobody else can touch you, certainly not a mere slave boy."

He was holding the Essence tight in his arms, one hand caressing the sacred child's smooth skin, replacing Erial's own hand on his backside and with an incredible audacity exploring his crack and testing his pert hole. His mouth was covering the boy's and was forcing it open with his tongue.

Hegron was so surprised by the young man's sudden reaction that he almost forgot this was what he had himself planned and his first reaction was to resist the assault. He stiffened and tried to push him away, which exacerbated Tael's desire.

"I don't care anymore about the consequences. I am as good as dead already. Whatever happens, I will possess you, at last. Erial stay where you are, I don't want to hear you or see you move. Hegron, let me show you my love, do not resist me, open up for me."

Hegron had never expected Tael's response would be so extreme, that he would want to go all the way this instant. This was only meant to be his reward for helping him escape his fate, eventually. He had to stop him…

Erial was following their plan, judging that Tael, in this frame of mind would not notice, he had gone to fetch one of the wizard's books, there would be no help from him.

The boy was soon pinned over some cushions, held firmly. He could feel the man's shaft positioned against his resisting pucker, pushing forward.

"Stop, please stop. It hurts."

"Never, this will be my only chance, it is too late for me now, I went too far already, this will be my death sentence, it won't be for nothing. Open up, I don't want to harm you."

Hegron was no match for the young man. If he could not reason with him, if they were caught, and he did not see how it could be otherwise, all his hopes and plans would be forfeit. There was a moment of despair much deeper than the pain coming from the pressure that the man's rod exerted.

"I won't tell, I swear, there is a better way."

"Do not resist, you're making it more difficult for yourself."

"NO!" Hegron said. That single word was enough. Tael was sent backward landing at the other end of the tent chocked and uncomprehending. It was the same for the boy. What had happened?

Tael was close to tears, feeling ridiculous with his pants down and his rigid cock now deflating. He had been tricked by his lust, and he was at the boy's mercy and all for nothing. Someone would come soon; his end was close.

"How did you do that?" he said in a choke.

"I have no idea," the child was as bewildered as the young wizard, "It was all your fault, I didn't want it to happen this way."

"Why do you care? Even if you don't talk, Stana will feel the shift in magic. I can feel it myself. Where is Erial? We will share the same fate." There was despair in the man's voice.

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"There is no other way for it to end. There is one thing I don't understand, what I did should have altered your Essence, it seems it has on the contrary awakened it."

"You did not do much. I stopped you, didn't I?

"That, you certainly did."

"We could find another explanation for Stana perhaps, that Erial touched me in the way you wanted and that you stopped him and that there was an outburst of magic."

"That would be his death warrant but why would you want to save me?"

"I know what fate is awaiting me at the tomb. I have no desire to die and I am sure you don't want to leave this world either. We can help each other. If we succeed, I promise I will be yours the way you desire it."

The wizard's mind was a maelstrom of ideas and thoughts, each one replacing the other and all in a few seconds time. He had at first thought of trying to flee, knowing it was illusory, and then had come the acceptance of his fate: he would die for a selfish cause, having risked the future of his people. Then his passion for the boy had become hate, he was the one at the origin of his obsession and he thought of plunging a knife in his heart, perhaps say Erial had done it. He would have to kill them both. No, he couldn't do that, Erial was nothing but Hegron was the Essence and he loved him, wanted him. Now, after the boy's last words, the lurid images were back.

"Help each other? There's nothing that can be done."

"Of course there is. Help me escape, and teach me how to use magic. Then we can live together, far from here, away from the Archons and their shadow. Free at last."

Erial came back at that moment, he was holding one of the wizard's books.

"Come to me. Where did you find that book?" said Tael, as he used a simple spell on the child, a thing he could not have done with Hegron. It was then that the Valean boy's legs, of their own volition, brought him to the man.

"I asked him to fetch me one of your books to study its spells."

"I see. That's one more good reason to get rid of him, perhaps even better than the first one to explain the shift of magic."

"Do we really have to kill him?" asked Hegron, "I promised him he could come with us."

Tael was now holding the boy by his hair, a knife at his throat. Erial's eyes were panicked, directed at Hegron, pleading with him.

"We can't risk having him talk of what really happened here, Stana would do it anyway, and he would not understand why it had not been done already."

For Tael it was nothing, they had been killing Valeans by the hundreds for weeks now. Hegron was more sensitive on the subject even if he had grown up with the idea of their superiority over all other races and people, who existed only to serve them, he had been truly fond of some of the playmates he had been given over the years and revolted to see them die for no reason. Before he could say a word, Tael had cut deep in the child's neck and a geyser of blood had gushed forth.

"NO!" he said, the knife being thrown away, but it was too late.

After a few reflex jerks of the child and a flailing of limbs, Tael let go of his lifeless body that fell to the ground.

Tael was massaging his wrist.

"That was stupid, he had to die; you must accept it. We really need to teach you how to master your powers, because you did hurt me. Be careful not to use them when the others are present otherwise we will never have the opportunity to prepare our escape. We will have a lot to achieve if we want to be able to survive this episode and more. As soon as Stana comes back and I have told him our story, I'll go fetch you a new plaything to replace this one. Look, some of the blood has seeped into the book, that's perfect for our scenario."

Hegron had to toughen himself up, and not shed a tear at the sight of Erial's body and all that blood.

He had never been exposed to death in such a violent and expeditious way. He had known the fate of his young companions but not attended their demise. He had had many glances on dead bodies since they had entered the Vale but from afar, and he had been sheltered from the worst of it. This had a strange effect on him, it reinforced his determination to escape, whatever the cost. His gaze fell on Tael who was cleaning his bloody knife on the boy's white tunic. Perhaps he would have to give himself to this man to succeed but as soon as it was possible, he knew he would have to find the strength to kill him, he would do it with great pleasure.

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