Dark Rider Page 8

  “I’m proud of you both,” Alisander replied. “I was the one running back and forth when both of you were sick. Both of you were strong.”

  Hark held out his hand, and Ali took it. He pulled him into his body, and their mouths met hungrily, pent up desire exploding as the fire between them flared up. He slid his hand across Ali’s smooth ass, loving the tight firm cheeks and warm skin. He traced his spine, one vertebra at a time with his fingers and felt Cax come in behind Ali to trap him between their bodies. He had his hands on Ali’s hips, pulling his pert little ass into his rigid cock.

  Hark broke the kiss and leaned in to whisper in Alisander’s ear. “I want you to suck Cax while I take this wonderful ass of yours. Would you like that, my Ali?”

  Alisander nodded, already panting with need.

  He backed them up, and Cax sat on the shallow steps. Alisander grasped his cock, and Cax threw his head back with pleasure.

  “I want you to come in my mouth, Cax, so I can swallow your essence. I want to have that piece of you, your scent, inside and out.”

  His words made Cax and Hark both groan at the pure eroticism of the image.

  “Yes,” Cax said in a deep voice laced with arousal. “I’ll come in your mouth.”

  Alisander bent over and took his shaft in his mouth, sucking until his cheeks hollowed out, and then he began to give him a wonderful blowjob if the noises Cax was making was any indication.

  As enthralling as it was to watch them, Hark had his own plans. With Ali bent over, he knelt down to rim the tight rosette, working the hole with his tongue and fingers to loosen him up. He fisted Alisander’s cock and began to pump, using the pre-cum to lubricate the soft skin.

  The three of them became lost in the delirious sensations of giving each other pleasure. When Alisander’s tight ring had fully relaxed, Hark rose up behind him and pushed his bulbous head into his hot, tight center. He slid all the way in, and when he was fully seated, he moaned at the exquisite feeling of being surrounded by Alisander. He began to thrust, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back in with force. Ali began to time his thrusts with his mouth, using the driving force to mouth-fuck Cax. Alisander was their bridge, and the sensations were swirling higher and higher, the coil tightening even more.

  “I’m going to come,” Cax gasped.

  And he did, throwing his head back and groaning out his release. Alisander swallowed every drop, and the sight was more stimulating than anything else. Hark felt his seed shooting out of his shaft as he buried himself as deeply inside Alisander, while at the same time fisting Ali’s cock. Ali cried out as he exploded all over his hand, and as Hark fell sideways, utterly spent, he brought his fingers up to his mouth to lick off the salty essence.

  ****

  The next morning Hark left his lovers in the bed, rose and bathed himself quickly before kissing each one awake. He realized it was unusual for Cax to have slept so long, but he was still healing from his wound, plus all the sex through the night had worn him out.

  “You’re leaving for the fight blessing?” Cax asked.

  “Yes. The Governor has called up the King’s Officiant. After the battle, I plan on reporting my withdrawal from Lord status.”

  “All right. As long as you’re positive this is what you wish.”

  Hark nodded. “It is.”

  “Do you wish for me to come with you?” Ali asked. “I’m still your squire.”

  Hark smiled at him and touched his cheek. “Not for the blessing, but I will need you at the weapons table as my guardian.”

  “What do I do?” Alisander asked.

  “You just make sure none of Laurltrant’s men disturb the weapons. The fight will start with hand to hand combat, and after the first five minutes a bell will ring letting us know we can advance to weapons.”

  “Why five minutes?”

  “It allows an honorable fight.”

  “We’ll see you in the arena,” Cax said.

  Hark nodded and rose, leaving his lovers behind. He made his way down to his uncle’s council chambers where Elric sat, waiting for him. The Governor always accompanied the King’s champion to the arena.

  “You look well rested,” Elric stated. “How is your shaking?”

  Hark held up his hand. It was steady.

  “You are … healed?”

  “If you mean am I over my desire for the wine, then no. I will always want it. But I’m a warrior, and I won’t let my thirst control my actions any longer.”

  “Your companions have made you strong.”

  Hark nodded. “Yes, they have.”

  “Then win this fight.”

  His uncle gripped his shoulder to show his support.

  “You know, uncle, I find it slightly amusing that Laurltrant went to this much trouble and became a traitor all in the hopes of removing your Governor seat. But without his deceit you wouldn’t have sent for Cax, which led me to leaving anyway.”

  “Do not worry. I plan on finding a wife very soon. I have a legacy to maintain.”

  Hark smiled as they left the chamber and headed to the combat arena. It was the same one where Elric had fought Laurltrant and had been crowned victor. The flags for the King and for Governor Elric slowly flapped in the breeze as the spectators began to fill the seats. It wasn’t every day that the arena held a judgment combat, and if there was one thing people loved it was a fight.

  Laurltrant was brought out, and both he and Hark knelt in front of the King’s officiant to receive a blessing over their upcoming battle. With every word Hark felt the bloodlust rising, the need to see this through. Even though he’d trained in the pits every day, he now had perfect clarity. He felt healthier. He felt the strength of Cax and Alisander flowing through his body.

  Once the officiant was done, they moved to their designated ends of the arena and prepared for battle. There were two royal witnesses to the match, to make sure that the King’s rules have been obeyed. Hark loosened up his muscles by practice hitting some padded poles. Alisander came over to help him take off his tunic since he’d be fighting only in loose pants. Cax stayed with him, giving references to his moves. By the time Elric signaled for the fight to begin, Hark’s nerves were tight.

  He walked to the center of the arena, as did Laurltrant. The two royal witnesses checked them both for sharp objects, frisking them to make sure nothing illegal was hidden anywhere. Then oil was slashed across their eyebrows to prevent the skin from being split open on the first blow. Too much blood would waste time, delaying the fight as the wound was stitched up.

  And then the signal was given and the arena fell silent as the two men bounced on their heels as they rounded on each other. It took them a few minutes to size one another up, and Hark didn’t waste too much time by delivering the first jabs, which Laurltrant easily avoided. He did the same, causing Hark to feint left and right.

  Hark decided to take a bold action and charged, but Laurltrant must have anticipated the move because he spun, fist raised, and let it fly. Hark grunted as it connected with his jaw, stars prickling his vision as he stumbled backward.

  Fury poured through Hark. All the pent up emotions he had been trying bottle suddenly overwhelmed his mind. He acted on instinct, shaking off the pain in his jaw and in his head, using it to fuel him forward. He rushed forward and slammed his shoulder into the small of Laurltrant’s back, sending them flying. They landed on the hard earth with a thud, Hark covering Laurltrant for a moment, until he was able to push himself into a half sit with one hand while balling his other up and using it to crack into Laurltrant’s side.

  Laurltrant grunted. He twisted as best as he could under Hark’s weight, jabbing his elbow into the unguarded stomach, able to get enough leverage to half push the other man off.

  Hark swore and fell back, his free hand now going to protect his midsection. As he scrambled to his feet, Laurltrant attacked. They rolled together in the dust, fists and knees slamming and hitting. Hark bucked as Laurltrant sprawled on top him and manag
ed to throw him off. He twisted around and pounced before the other man could gain his footing.

  Laurltrant’s arms and legs went out from under him as Hark’s weight landed. He snaked an arm around the merchant’s throat and smirked for one instant before Laurltrant slammed his head into his chin, in almost the exact spot his fist had planted. The stars reappeared, and Hark slid off Laurltrant in an ungraceful lump.

  Both were gasping for breath as Laurltrant crawled away. For a moment or two they lay in the dust, panting as the aches started to settle in. The fight, however, was far from over. Laurltrant rose to his feet and stumbled over to the weapons table. He picked up a sword. Hark watched him and did the same with his own broadsword.

  They circled one another, each looking for a crack in the other’s defense. Laurltrant moved first, raising his left hand in an attacking point over his head since his right wrist was weak. Hark, at the last moment, bent at the side and thrust his sword to intercept the blade. At the same moment he grabbed Laurltrant’s bad arm and twisted.

  Laurltrant let out a groan, and for a moment they stared at each other, eye to eye. Blood and sweat mingled, leaking from various cuts and points. The white in Laurltrant’s left eye was filling with blood while the skin around it started to darken a deep red.

  Hark felt his jaw throb and tasted blood on his tongue. The soft tissue inside his cheek had split, and he pushed the metallic serum out of his mouth. He ignored it as it dribbled down his chin. The lack of the moon-ivy for several days had raised his recklessness enough to just stay locked like this, with Laurltrant, forever.

  Only forever started to end as he saw hatred cloud Laurltrant’s dark eyes through the blood-red iris. This was a battle that had to end, and there was only one outcome that Hark would accept. As much as he might have admired the old merchant, as much as he pitied the story of how he lost his son, he was still a traitor to Eyvindar, and thus a traitor to the King.

  Then everything happened in slow motion. Laurltrant raised his sword. Hark spun away and thrust his sword out at the same time. Laurtlrant charged, and they crashed into one another. Hark’s blade sank into Laurltrant’s chest, the metal so sharp it cut into him like parchment, slipping smoothly between the ribs.

  They stood still for a moment with Laurltrant’s hands resting on top of Hark’s shoulders like he was just trying to gain his balance. Their eyes touched and locked … disbelief meeting Hark’s judgmental gaze. And then … slowly … blood trickled from Laurltrant’s mouth, and his fate was sealed. They sank together to their knees. Hark looked down at the embedded sword before gently tugging it free, letting Laurltrant’s body fall lifelessly to its side.

  Governor Elric stood from his viewing position at the arena and held the amplifier to his mouth. “Judgment has been passed. Guilty.”

  There was no applause because Laurltrant had been one of the people, living and working among the merchant class. Hark pushed to his feet, and suddenly he was surrounded by Alisander and Cax, and the weariness left his body.

  “You did well,” Cax told him solemnly.

  “I did what I had to do.”

  “Are you still with us, Hark?” Alisander asked.

  He bent down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. And then he turned to Cax. The two men stared at one another before Hark raised his hand and slid his fingers around Cax’s nape. He tugged the Mercenary close and claimed his lips. Right there, in the arena, surrounded by blood and death, he kissed Cax as he’d longed to kiss him for some time. His tongue forced its way into Cax’s mouth, but Cax instantly succumbed to the invasion as they tested each other’s tastes.

  When they broke to come up for air, Hark leaned his forehead against Cax but pulled Alisander tight to both of them.

  “Will you both accept my companion vows?” Cax asked.

  “Yes,” Alisander replied immediately.

  “Let me get cleaned up and we shall find the officiant,” Hark said. “Tomorrow we’ll start our lives together.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  A half hour after the judgment battle a drumbeat drifted over through the tiers of Eyvindar. It was melodic, rhythmic, in a steady tempo that vibrated over the air and hit them with a beckoning call. People were walking toward the music, and Cax beckoned with his finger before following the rest. Alisander looked inquiringly at Hark, and Hark nodded. He’d never been on this side of the province, but he knew a Shrine House was nearby, so he assumed that was where they were headed.

  They came to a ridge where the earth fell away to a sloping canyon. At the bottom lay a stone temple surrounded by lit torches anchored to the stone walls. It wasn’t a large temple, only one level with an arched entrance where people traversed in and out.

  The drumbeat was unmistakable. Now that they were close enough Alisander could hear a low hum accompany the music. “That’s a Shrine House, right?”

  “Yes,” Hark grunted.

  “Why are we here?”

  “To pay respects to Laurltrant. He may have been a traitor in the eyes of the law, but the people still respected him. They paid for Grief Dancers to come.”

  “I’ve never seen Grief Dancers.”

  “No? I saw them once.”

  “Can we see them?” Alisander asked.

  “It will look odd for his killer to mourn his death.”

  “Cax is already there.”

  Hark sighed. “All right.”

  They took their time angling down the side of the canyon since much of the underbrush was too dark for them to see clearly. Inside the Grief Dancers occupied most of the temple floor. The visitors lined the walls, clumped in groups and hurdled together to make room for all. Hark and Alisander made their way through the grief-stricken voyeurs.

  The Dancers were females dressed in white fanning dresses. They twirled to their chants, veils flowing with them on the breeze they stirred. Of their faces, only their eyes were visible, yet each set of eyes was closed to the music they invoked.

  “They train from infancy to twirl like that,” Hark said, his mouth pressed close to Alisander’s ear. “They never sleep and only rest for short periods. Usually, girls are given into service by parents too poor to care for them, choosing devotion for their child rather than starvation.”

  “You know a lot about them.”

  “It’s the only profession that doesn’t have a guild,” he whispered, “at least, the only honorable one. It made me curious as to how they could keep together their faith and teachings.”

  “And what did you discover?”

  “That it’s not about faith and teachings, but about loss and compassion. They dance to the dead for those of us who can’t.”

  “But they work for money.”

  “No, they work for donations. If all you can give is a sack of grain they will carry your burden of sorrow for a time.”

  “Have you ever paid them?”

  Hark didn’t answer right away. Alisander looked through the dim candlelight at him. “I did not, but the Governor did,” he finally replied. “When my mother died I sat here, upon my knees, and let their chants drive away the pain I had.”

  “Did it work?”

  “For a time. Then it came back.” Then he left Alisander to walk over to the cauldron that sat upon the altar, a white flame reaching from the bottomless depths. Alisander saw that everyone stared at Hark. Some faces held acceptance, and some held resentment. Hark removed the dagger from his boot and placed the blade on the fleshy part of his hand. He swiped at a downward angle then held his bleeding palm outward, letting the blood drip into the hungry flames.

  Then he dropped a few coins onto the plate beside it.

  When he returned to Alisander’s side, he focused his attention back on the dancers, back on their twirling to the chants that vibrated through the room. He seemed oblivious that all the people in the room had stared at him in shock.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Laurltrant fought bravely and honorably. No matter what he did, he still dese
rves a warrior’s funeral.”

  Alisander saw Cax leaning against one of the pillars, his blue eyes shining as their gazes met. Cax nodded his head toward the door, and Alisander nudged Hark’s arm. A moment later they were making their way out of the temple and back up the canyon.

  They walked in silence, the drum beat making it slightly too spiritual to talk. Once they reached the crest the music began to die away. At that particular moment, walking under the shining stars between the two men he would do anything for, Alisander felt surreal. As if his whole life had been building to this moment.

  “You know what I would like?”

  “I could say something piquant, but I don’t think that’s mood you’re going for,” Cax replied.

  “Maybe,” Alisander said. “I would like a haircut.”

  “Really?” Hark asked, running his fingers over Alisander’s unflattering cut. “Very well. That will be the first thing we do tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “The officiant is waiting for us.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  They entered the castle, and Hark led them to the Governor’s chamber where the Royal officiant waited. The three of them stood in front of him with Elric off to the side as the witness.

  “I am told you wish to give up your title,” the officiant said.

  “Yes,” Hark said in a firm voice.

  He produced a scroll. “You just need to sign this.”

  Without hesitation, Hark grabbed the scroll and walked over to his uncle’s desk. He took the quill and signed his name with a flourish. The officiant added his seal, and it was done.

  ****

  Hark captured Alisander’s lips in a kiss, maneuvering until he was between his thighs. His tongue slid inside his mouth, exploring the warm cavern and twining with his tongue.

  When he broke the kiss, he pulled back to see Cax gently undressing Alisander. Each area he exposed he lavished with kisses, working layer by layer, first his tunic, then his doublet, licking his nipples as they hardened into little pebbles. He moaned and arched his back, clearly enjoying the attention. Hark took over this part of undressing him since he was between his thighs. Alisander wiggled his hips, helping him, revealing his beautiful shaft already leaking with excitement. He traced the tip with one finger, dipping into the hole, gently teasing it, making him squirm and gasp in pleasure.