FAITH SHINES EQUAL
© November 2002 by Charlotte Frost

PART TWO

Within the first day of their ride to Klazam, Jim realized some things about his partner that he hadn't noticed before.  With the surety of death behind him, Blair had turned out to be extremely talkative.  Sometimes he would launch into lectures about things he had learned at the University, pointing out facts about various plants and landscapes they passed by.  Other times, he would launch into a history lecture.  Or he might talk about memories from his life in the village.

On top of all that, he would sometimes challenge Jim to extend his senses out, just as he had done in Sanctuary.

Jim was exhausted keeping up with Blair's constant prattle, and he finally realized -- much to his relief -- that Blair didn't expect to be listened to most of the time.  In fact, when he specifically wanted Jim to listen he would speak his name first to get his attention.  Eventually, Jim relegated most of Blair's chatter to part of the environment around them.

Spared the relief from having to always pay attention, the most frustrating part of their journey became the slowness of Blair's horse.  Finally, annoyed with having to constantly circle his own horse around to keep it from getting too far ahead of the paint, Jim decided to put the backpack on the old horse, and he and Blair would ride double on his mount.

Still, while leading the paint, the boney horse was breathing hard in an effort to keep up with the younger animal, despite the latter being burdened with two grown men.

On the fourth day, Jim had had enough.  He halted their progress in a well-shaded meadow and dismounted.  "This old horse is only slowing us down," he said as he began unstrapping the backpack.  "We would be at least a full day farther ahead if we'd been merely traveling on foot."

Blair came up next to him, his arms crossed from the chill of the breeze.  "Are you going to shoot him?"

Jim removed the backpack and let it rest on the ground.  He considered Blair's question while he worked with the saddle.  "He's not in any pain."  He pulled the saddle off and nodded at the meadow.  "There's plenty of grass here.  He surely won't last the winter because there's not enough meat on his bones to keep him warm.  He'll be an easy target for a predator to bring down before then."  Jim put the saddle on the ground and turned to the bridle.  "In the meantime, he can live out his last days in peace."  He slipped the bridle off and stepped back.

The horse walked away to the nearest the patch of green grass and began grazing.

Blair looked up at Jim.  "I love you."

Jim shook his head, knowing Blair's admiration wasn't deserved.  "I've ridden lots of horses to death.  More than I can count."

"But out of necessity.  Right?"

"Always out of necessity," Jim admitted gruffly, watching the paint.  He looked at Blair.  "Hopefully, those days are behind me."

Blair put his arms around him.  "I think they are."

Jim hugged him for a long time, absorbing Blair's faith and warmth.  Reluctantly, he let go.  "We need to get moving, now that we can finally make some progress."

---

They mostly traveled at a walk, taking turns with one leading their remaining horse while the other rode.  Jim had long since changed into non-regulation clothing, so he wasn't recognized as an army officer when others passed them on road.  They ran into other travelers more frequently as they continued to move east.

Jim had given some thought to turning south for a day to stop at the army camp there.  But that would mean trussing Blair up like a prisoner again, and he thought they had enough food to get them to Klazam, though there wasn't much variety.  So, he decided to continue due east.

The tube of ointment had been used up and Blair had healed.  Jim vowed he'd never damage him to that degree again, so he kept that particular act off limits until they were able to acquire a lubricant to assist them.

Most of their nightly activity, if they weren't too tired from their travels, consisted of feeling each other up while they snuggled together during the increasingly colder nights.  With the lust having left his system at the army base, Jim often felt he would be content with simply kissing Blair for many minutes before falling asleep.  But Blair was more eager and energetic, so Jim usually let him lead in their lovemaking.  He was never sorry for yielding to Blair's demands.

---

With night falling around them, Jim and Blair led their horse through a tiny gate in the lane leading up to a farmer's house.  They were in a hilly, open plains area and there would be no shelter provided by trees tonight.  If Jim wore his army uniform, the farmer would have to allow them on his property.  But Jim hoped that wouldn't be necessary.  Maybe mere politeness would do.

The farmer greeted them before they had quite reached the house.  "What do you want, strangers?"  Despite his gruff voice, he seemed a young man.

Jim replied, "Use of the barn for the night, if you don't mind.  There isn't much shelter out here."

Blair had his arms wrapped around himself, to emphasize the chill of nightfall.

"Where are you headed?" the farmer asked.

"Klazam," Jim replied.  "It's less than a day away, isn't it?"

"Yep.  In fact, if you go to the far ridge," he gestured, "you can look down on the lights of the city."

"Then... you don't mind us staying the night?"

"I can't feed you."

"That's all right.  We have our own rations.  Would you like some?  It's not much, but you're welcome to it.  I have little with which to pay you."

"Put your horse up, and I'll come down a little later to see what you have."

---

The farmer left with the saddle they'd kept from the paint.  Jim and Blair ate their own meal, and then Jim asked, "Do you want to go to the ridge and see the city lights?"

"Sure!"

Jim grinned to himself at Blair's never-ending sense of adventure.

It was only about a quarter mile walk along a plateau.  As they neared the edge, bright city lights lit the horizon.

"Wow!" Blair exclaimed.  "I've never seen anything like this!  I thought the city of Temmock, where I went to the University, was the biggest I'd seen. But it's puny compared to this!"

They sat down, side by side, huddled in their coats against the brisk prairie winds.  "It's the most modern city I've ever visited," Jim said.  "Some of the richer people -- those who serve the Empress directly -- move around in motor cars instead of on horseback.  No doubt some even have computers."

"How many times have you visited?" Blair asked, his eyes on the city.

"A lot, though not in the last few years when I've spent more time where the fighting is."

Blair turned to look at him.  "If nothing else, I'm grateful for our pledge sparing you that kind of life.  You've served more than your share."

Jim shrugged.  "I never considered leaving the army, because there was nowhere else for me to go."

Blair's expression softened.  "I'm so glad Bree brought us together."

It took a moment before his companion's statement registered.  Jim shook his head.  "I'm sorry, Blair, but I'm not a believer.  You healed yourself with your visualization.  Take some credit."

"Jim, are you saying that you think it's mere coincidence that, as huge as Sanctuary is, you and I met up together the first day you arrived?"

"I can't see any reason for a religious explanation."  Jim's voice softened.  "I'm a man who can only deal with what's right in front of me.  I've seen too many men die horrible deaths -- both our side and the enemy's -- to believe in any god.  Especially a benevolent one."

"I don't want to tell you what to believe, Jim.  But I just ask you to consider:  why would my visualizations have worked only after I met you?  And even if I cured myself, what difference would it have made if I wandered around Sanctuary for eternity, because I kept thinking I was going to die? So, I'm saying that there's a reason it all worked out this way, things happening in the order that they did.  Even if you don't believe in Bree or some other god as an all-powerful energy, you at least have to consider that there's something greater at work than what your five senses -- extraordinary as they are -- can tell you."

Jim put his arm around Blair.  "I don't want to argue your faith, Blair.  I'm glad you have it.  But you can't convert me."

"I know that," Blair smiled warmly.  "Besides, anyone who is converted by another isn't a true convert.  Conversion has to come from within."

Jim smiled back.  "At least we agree on that point."

They were silent for a few moments, each watching the city lights in the distance.

Blair laid his hand on Jim's arm.  "Jim?  Would you mind leaving me alone for a while?  I'd like to spend some time meditating, while looking down on Klazam.  I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a turning point in our lives -- a beginning.  I need to ground myself."

Blair hadn't meditated at all since leaving Sanctuary.  Jim squeezed his shoulder, even as he felt a twinge of unease at leaving Blair alone for the first time since the army base.  "I'll have the bedroll warm for you."  He got to his feet.

"Thanks, Jim."

---

Blair's expression was fixed in a wide-eyed stare as they entered the city of Klazam late the next morning.  The town was bustling with activity.  Some of the buildings were many stories tall, and were made of stone or steel and elegantly designed.  An occasionalhonk cleared the way for motorcars, which were present almost half as much as horses and carriages.

It took over an hour, riding double, to make their way toward the city's east end, which had a wrought-iron fence surrounding the most enormous building Jim had ever seen, and which enclosed the most beautiful gardens imaginable.  He had been outside the iron gates before, but he'd never had reason to enter.

He stopped at the outermost gate and dismounted from their horse, which had worked up a lather, due to the excitement of the city.  Jim had dressed in his uniform, but there was no reason now for Blair to be presented under the guise of a prisoner.

"What is your business, Major?" the guard inquired.  He was smartly dressed and carried a pistol at his waist.

Jim presented his ID.  "Major James Ellison, with the 44th Division of the Empress's army.  My companion and I need to see the Empress in person. It's important, but I can't explain why.  If you check my records, you'll find that I'm assigned on leave in Sanctuary.  I have left Sanctuary over a month early in order to see the Empress."  That was an abridged version, but the bottom line was true enough.

"And your companion?" The guard looked at Blair.

"Blair Sandburg," Blair said as he dismounted.  "Formerly a student at Temmock University, where I studied metaphysical practices.  I was recently in Sanctuary because I was terminally ill.  I went there to die."

The guard had been writing quickly on a pad, and now he looked up at Blair.  "You 'were' terminally ill?"

"I am cured of my incurable disease," Blair replied.

Before the guard thought them mentally disturbed, Jim said, "His recovery is part of the reason we need to see the Empress.  We have important information that she might find useful."

"Wait here.  It might be a while."  The guard stepped to his station and picked up a telephone.

Jim had expected the delay.  He loosened the girth on their horse and led it over to the manicured lawn at the edge of the path so it could graze.  

"I never thought about it before," Blair said as he stood beside Jim, "but what are the chances of us seeing the Empress in person?  There's only one of her and there are millions of subjects in the Empire.  Surely, people want to see her all the time."

"As an officer of the military," Jim replied, "I'm taken seriously.  Anyway, there aren't that many people who would have the nerve to want to see her for something frivolous."

Blair glanced back at the guard station.  "What's he doing, do you think?"

"He's surely calling another station with computers so they can check to see if we've been truthful about everything we've said.  Someone, in turn, might call my superiors at my last assignment to find out more about me."

"You mean the reason you were sent to Sanctuary in the first place?" Blair asked worriedly.

Jim nodded.  "Yes.  But at least the guard can vouch that I seem reasonably normal now.  You having allegedly cured yourself of a fatal disease is what will peak their interest."

It took nearly a half hour.  Then the guard stepped out of his booth.  "You may proceed," he announced.  "See the guard at the inner gate."

"Thank you," Jim said, taking his ID back.  "We'll walk," he told Blair, as he led their horse through the gates.

The path from the outer gate to the inner gate, just outside the castle itself, was nearly a quarter mile.  They stopped again and Jim presented his ID. Just inside the gate an elderly man, plainly dressed in a brown robe, waited.

The guard let them pass without asking questions.

The robed man said, "You are scheduled to see the Empress in her court at three pm."

"Her court?" Jim asked.  "We would like to see her in a private setting."

"That is not possible.  This is her day for business with the civilian members of the Empress's court.  You will have to see her at three, or miss the opportunity altogether."

"All right then," Jim agreed reluctantly.

"This way," the man directed.  They were still outside the castle itself, and Jim and Blair followed him across the grounds.  "I will lead you to your quarters until you are summoned to see the Empress.  You will have a chance to bathe."  

Is that a hint? Jim wondered.  Whatever the reason, he looked forward to it.

They passed by the stables and their escort waved a young lad forward.  "He will see to your horse."

Jim released the reins to the stable hand.  "What about our belongings?" he asked of the backpack strapped to the horse.

The robed man said, "They will be brought to you."

They continued through busy castle grounds.  Walking up various steps, the man finally opened an unlocked door and stood aside.  "Here is quarters where you can wait.  Or would you each like your own unit?"

"This is fine," Jim said, brushing past.  In fact, it was better than fine.  Sparse and efficient, but quite a bit larger, and with finer furnishings, than the room at the army base.  A bed large enough for two.  Not only was there a more sophisticated toilet closet, but there was also a bath that looked to have running water.

Blair was slowly turning around, his mouth open, eyes wide.

The man bowed.  "I will come at two-forty pm to escort you to the court.  Please be ready.  Your belongings will be brought shortly."  He left.

"Wow!" Blair gasped as he sat on the bed.  "This is incredible!"

"We have little more than an hour to enjoy it," Jim said.  "I suggest we bathe."

Blair got up to peek at the long, narrow tub.  "I can't believe all this indoor plumbing."

Jim said, "I'll start the water and we can take turns."

---

They ended up in the tub together, Blair sitting between Jim's legs and leaning back against him, his head on Jim's shoulder.

Blair said, "Now that we're so close to seeing the Empress, I'm feeling really nervous.   I mean, what are we going to say exactly?"

Jim's arms rested around Blair's waist.  "We're going to tell her the truth.  We're going to tell her how we met, how we helped each other, and that we're in need of work and have abilities that can be beneficial to the Empire."

Blair took a deep breath.  "In front of the 'court'?"

"Sure," Jim said, resigned to speaking in a probably crowded hall.  "Why not?"

Blair released a breath.  "What if she doesn't believe us?"

"Why wouldn't she?  I'll bring the documentation that you've been cured.  I can assure you that her staff has already checked both of us out, and they'll have some records from the University -- if not more directly from your village -- that you were diagnosed with Keetan's Disease.  Also," Jim just now realized where his confidence was coming from, "the Empress and her court have always respected the military, first and foremost.  I'm a decorated officer.  I've proven myself."

Blair tilted his head back to look at Jim.  "You mean you've gotten medals and stuff?"

"Uh-huh.  She has no reason to question my loyalty, even though I am now pledged first and foremost to you."  He squeezed Blair, his heart beating a little faster.

Blair blinked.  "You're going to tell her that?"

"Of course.  It's the truth.  The truth is our greatest strength."  Yet, Jim considered that his military bearing was a bit tarnished since he wouldn't be allowed to serve again, thanks to his relationship with Blair.

He thought about that for a long moment.

"What is it?"  Blair asked him.

"I have an idea."

---

At two-forty pm there was a knock on the door.  Jim opened it.

The robed man looked him and Blair up and down.  "Uh... I expected you to be ready."

"We are."  Jim smiled winningly.  Instead of clothing, they had both slipped into simple robes in the room, similar to their escort's.

"Very well."  The man turned to lead the way.

It was a long walk, up and down staircases, inside archways, and then outside.  Eventually, they went back indoors and were led down various halls that were grand in height and width.  Jim knew that the oldest part of the castle had been in existence for more than five centuries.

Finally, they came to a pair of huge wooden doors that were closed to them.  A few courtiers waited on either side.

Their escort stepped up to a man who stood behind a small podium, a telephone receiver in one hand.  "The three o'clocks for the Empress, Major Jim Ellison and Temmock University student Blair Sandburg."  He bowed and then turned away.

The man at the podium looked up and spoke into the phone.  Then he said to them, "You are clear to go in."

Jim exchanged a glance with Blair, who grinned at him.  Jim nodded and, together, they both pulled their robes over their heads.  They dropped them to the floor.

The courtiers around them gasped.  The man at the podium said with disapproval, "You wish to see the Empress in... this state of undress?"

"Yes," Jim replied simply.

The man sighed.  He turned to the two men at the door handles and nodded at them.  "As you wish."

The men each took a door handle and pulled it back, revealing a long carpeted path leading to the Empress, who sat on her throne.  Various courtiers lined each side of the carpet.

Jim was long since accustomed to being naked in front of others.  Not only as a soldier in his own camp, but also as a prisoner.  He also had the confidence that his body was in good shape and inoffensive.

As for Blair... well, one couldn't help but be attracted to Blair.  Jim was grateful for his partner's zest for adventure, though he could sense the heat of Blair's blush as they started forward amidst gasps of shock and surprise... and a few giggles.

Jim slowed his pace until Blair was a little in front of him.  Such long, gorgeous hair almost down to his ass by now.  Such a sweet face, though Jim couldn't see it at the moment.  Such a strong, compact build, which still managed to retain an aura of youthful innocence.

As they continued to walk the long path, Jim dialed up his sight to catch the Empress's expression.  She was elaborately robed with some sort of high crown atop the hair piled on her head.  Her expression was trying to be grim, but Jim was certain he could see a hint of humor beneath it.  To her side were various advisors, most of them scowling, one in the background trying not to laugh out loud.

A guard with an old-fashioned lance tilted the weapon to block their progress, now that they were only a few yards in front of the elevated podium where the Empress and her entourage awaited.

Jim and Blair stopped and the guard retreated back.  The hall quieted.

In a strong voice the Empress demanded, "Who are you to come to court in such a state?"

Though he knew she knew their identities, Jim replied, "We are Major Jim Ellison of the Empress's Army, and Blair Sandburg, formerly a Temmock University student."  Then, "We come to you as our truest selves."

Her brow furrowed as she contemplated that.  Then she said, "Explain."

Jim cleared his throat.  "I do not wear my uniform, your Highness, because I have been on leave and the army will not allow me to return to its ranks when it learns of what I have to tell you."

"And what is that?"

Jim laid his hand on Blair's bare shoulder.  "I have pledged my life to Blair Sandburg."

There was a rumble in the crowd and on the podium.

Blair spoke loudly.  "And I have pledged my life to Jim Ellison."

The rumble grew louder.

"Why?" she barked, her eyes shifting from one to the other.

"While recently in Sanctuary," Jim replied, "we learned that we are each other's greatest strength."  He didn't see any reason to bring something as personal as emotion into it; besides, it was probably obvious to everyone in the hall.

Jim began to relay what had happened in Sanctuary, starting with why they each had been there.  Whenever he paused to draw breath, Blair would interject something.  Otherwise, Blair seemed content to let him do the talking.

When it came to his gift -- his senses -- she asked for various demonstrations.  Jim bristled at the feeling of being treated as a well-trained exotic animal in Klazam's zoo, but he understood the necessity of proving the truth of his condition.  He described fine details of clothing from people at the far end of the hall, specific conversations going on outside the room, and identified the scent of the Empress's perfume.

There were some oohs and ahhs -- and occasional mutters of trickery -- from the crowd, which made him uncomfortable.  

After the lengthy demonstrations were over, he and Blair relayed more of their story.  When they finally wound down, the Empress asked Jim, "Why do you think Blair Sandburg was cured of the Keetan's Disease when no such cure has ever been recorded by the doctors in the Empire?"

Jim hesitated at how best to answer, since it seemed there was more than one possibility.  Finally, he replied, "Blair will say it is because of Bree. However, I do not believe in Bree or any other god."

A rumble went up from the crowd.

"What I do believe in," Jim raised his voice to silence the hall, "is Blair Sandburg.  He has an intelligence that can tap into little-known capabilities of the mind."  He kept his eyes on the Empress, even as he felt Blair staring up at him.

She gazed at Jim for a long time.  Then her eyes switched to Blair.  "Blair Sandburg," she snapped, "why do you join with a man who does not believe?"

"Because Jim Ellison is the most honorable man I have ever met.  It is humbling to be in his presence."

Murmurs now waded through the crowd.

Jim swallowed a lump in his throat.

Blair went on, "And because I believe in his gift.  Had it not been for his unique sense of smell, I would still think I was ill and be wandering around Sanctuary, waiting to die."

Her eyes shifted back and forth between them once again.  Finally she asked, "What do you want of this court?"

Jim said, "We have come because we can serve the Empire.  The military will not want me, and the army is no place for Blair Sandburg.  Blair could return to the University, but his soul yearns to add more to his knowledge through experience, and he wants to learn more of my gift and help me to use it to serve the Empire. We wish to be given an assignment that combines the use my gift and his intelligence, and which will allow us to stay together at all times."

A man to the Empress's right leaned down to talk to her.  They conversed for over a minute.

When the aide straightened, the Empress said, "We will confer and summon you tomorrow afternoon in private conference."

Jim bowed his head.  "Thank you, your Highness."

After hesitating, Blair did likewise.

"From now on," the Empress said, "do not be seen outside your quarters without full clothing."  Her mouth corner twitched.  "I fear you are disturbing to the ladies of the court."  She looked them up and down.

The hall burst out into laughter.

"Dismissed."  She held out a hand and a man stepped forward to help her to her feet.

Jim and Blair turned and started down the hall, where the people were now conversing in a relaxed manner.  Many were watching them and commenting, mostly in humorous tones.  None said anything deliberately provocative to them, and Jim doubted they would, since they apparently had the Empress's respect.

The wooden double doors opened for them, and the man who had been behind the podium held out their robes.  Gratefully, they pulled them over their heads.

An elegantly dressed young man stepped forward.  "This way."

"Where to now?" Jim asked.

"Your new quarters."  The man turned and started walking.

Blair looked up at Jim questioningly.

Jim shrugged as they followed.  "I guess we've moved up in the world."

---

This time, their quarters were located in one of the more innermost sections of the castle.  The bed was huge and covered with a canopy. The bathtub could easily fit six people.  There were two different toilet closets.  Fresh foods were available on every tabletop.  Lush chairs were stationed in front of a fireplace.

"Your belongings will be brought to you," their new escort said as he left.

"Man, Jim," Blair said with awe as he plopped on the end of the huge bed, making it bounce.

"At least we'll get an extra good rest tonight," Jim said.  He really was looking forward to that.

Blair laughed.  "I hope you aren't just thinking about sleeping.  We have food provided for us, for a change.  We can actually sleep in tomorrow, since we don't have to be on the move anywhere."

"Good point," Jim relented.  In fact, he was getting aroused, just watching Blair bounce on the bed.  

Blair rolled around on the bed until he could reach one of the stands next to it.  "What do we have here?" he asked, opening a drawer.  "Linens, spices...."  He went silent.  Then he turned and held up a little bottle with a grin.  "What do you think this is?"

Jim came around the bed as Blair opened the bottle and poured a little of its contents on his hand.  It was an oily substance.  Blair's grin widened as he whispered, "Lubrication."

Really?  Jim thought with interest.  He could smell the pleasant fragrance from the oil.  It was similar to coconut.  There's no way the room could have been prepared so fast just for them.  It's not like male couples are the only ones who do it the back way,he rationalized.  Maybe visitors from other cultures do it regularly.

He didn't really care about the reason.  Tonight, he could enter Blair again.

Blair's expression was now one of longing as he looked up at Jim.  "I've missed you.  Feeling that part of you inside of me."

The tip of Jim's manhood was now poking against the front of his robe.  He reached out... caressed the side of Blair's face.

This time, at least, it could be done with minimal pain.

Blair's eyes closed.

Jim pressed harder with his hand, feeling Blair's skin, and Blair started to lie back.  Then he grimaced.

"What?" Jim asked, moving his hand away.

Blair straightened a moment, and reached back to free his hair from where it was pulled beneath his body.   "Gotta cut this," he muttered.  "Maybe we can get someone to do it tomorrow."

Jim tried not to panic.  "How short?"

Blair reached down his back and indicated a few inches below his neck.  "About here.  That ought to keep it from being a bother for a while."

Jim nodded.  He could imagine how annoying hair as long as Blair's would be.  Even if it did add to Blair's exotic appearance.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Jim called as he moved toward it.

A simply dressed youth entered with Jim's backpack, and a sack carrying their other belongings from their prior quarters.  

Jim pointed to the nearest corner.  "Right there will be fine."

The young man laid the backpack down.  "Anything else, sir?"

"Where can we find a barber in the morning?"

"I can have one sent to you," the youngster said.

"Yes.  Please do.  At noon."  That should give him and Blair enough time....

"Very well, sir."  The lad left.

Jim locked the door.  He turned around just in time to see Blair pull off his robe.

---

If he could freeze a moment in time and make it last forever, Jim thought this moment would surely be it.  He lay on the huge bed on his side next to Blair, who was sprawled on his back.  His head rested in his hand, which was propped on an elbow and even with Blair's groin area.  Two oily fingers of his other hand were inside of Blair.  He had found a delightful little nub a couple of inches inside of Blair's body, and every time Jim pressed on it, Blair's lips would part and he'd make a wonderful noise of pleasure.  

Blair's knees were bent, and in the last few moments, he had started pushing himself farther onto Jim's fingers and moving his hips to recreate the bolt of pleasure when Jim pressed on the sensitive lump.

In addition to listening to Blair's enjoyment, and feeling the tremors inside his body, Jim also enjoyed watching Blair's genitals respond to the stimulation.  Blair's previously sated groin twitched and filled, a sticky bead emerging from the tip of his erection.  It was especially attractive in the low lamplight on each side of the bed.

"I can do this all night," Jim assured softly.  "But if you want me to finish you, just let me know."

Blair's muscles tightened to grip his fingers -- as though to insure they stayed within -- and Jim felt other muscular contractions within Blair's body.  He didn't think he'd be noticing such, if it weren't for his heightened senses.  He enjoyed the thought that Blair, who had identified his gift, was receiving the most pleasurable benefits from it.

The veins in Blair's cock had now swelled to a noticeable degree.

"Finish me," Blair gasped.

Gladly.  Jim shifted to come closer.  He still kept his fingers moving, and he stuck out his tongue and ran it up the ultra-soft skin of the swaying phallus.

Blair made a small noise, almost of pain.

Almost.

Jim couldn't wait any longer.  That little bead was too enticing.  He shifted again and placed his mouth over the upper half of the shaft.  And enclosed it.

More wonderful surges of nerves raced through Blair's body.  Not even the most experienced army whore knew all the right places where a man liked to be touched by a tongue, where the most perfect pressure points were for suction.  But he knew, just as Blair knew when returning the favor.  

With his free hand, Jim gently squeezed Blair's balls, intending a quick feel before grabbing the lower shaft.  But he was distracted when he realized that, as his fingers brushed against Blair's scrotum area, he could feel the outline of his own digits within Blair's body.  Fascinated, Jim tried to keep an easy suction going while purposely pressing against Blair's scrotum, near his perineum.  

Blair made higher-pitched gasps and his inner muscles all responded while his cock swelled even more.

Yes, he could feel the little nub from this side, too.  Jim pressed down with his outer fingers, while pressing up with the fingers inside Blair, all his digits using a massaging motion at the same time.

Blair cried out -- screamed -- as his whole body quivered and his seed exploded onto Jim's tongue.

Jim experienced another panorama of sensation as he consumed the seed, examining the flavor, as was his habit.  His fingers registered the relaxing of Blair's muscles, as they found their way to satiation.

Blair released a little gasp, and then his whole body went lax.

That's my Blair, Jim thought lovingly, as he slowly removed his fingers and straightened.  

Blair's eyes were just barely open as his body breathed with slow pants.

Jim settled beside him, his hand on Blair's chest.

"I'm still living?" Blair murmured.

"Yes, you're still living," Jim told him, his hand slowly moving among Blair's chest hairs, identifying all the little curls.

"I went to heaven."  Blair's tired eyes drifted to Jim.  "For a brief moment, I was there.  There was nothing but pure, utter bliss.  In that moment, pleasure is all I knew."

Just call me magic fingers, sweetheart.

"Was Bree there?" Jim asked, trying not to feel jealous of a god he didn't believe in.

"No," Blair whispered.  "No one was there.  I wasn't even there.  My consciousness just knew pleasure.  It wasn't like it was even a specific area of my body.  I'm not sure I even had a body."  He released a long breath.  "I thought you had to die to know heaven."

Jim tweaked one of Blair's nipples.  "I think all it takes is somebody who loves you more than life itself."

Blair's eyes settled on Jim.  Even tired, they radiated love.  "Will you come inside?"

Jim's cock throbbed.  He'd been looking forward to it, especially now that he had Blair so relaxed.  "Yes."

"And stay?"

"I'll try."  Jim looked about the bed.  There was a large selection of pillows.  At the army base, they'd both been so full of lust that the mechanics hadn't mattered. Now, how they did it seemed more important.  Gently, he asked, "Do you want to roll over and let me lie on top of you?"  It was obvious Blair wasn't in any condition to participate much.

Blair reached up and rubbed Jim's face with the backs of his fingers.  "Tomorrow morning, after we've slept, I'll send you to heaven, Jim.  I'll do for you what you've done for me.  You'll see what it's like."

Jim felt some part of him want to resist, as he was reluctant to allow himself to be that vulnerable.  But he also realized that the reluctance stemmed from lifetime habit, rather than from what he truly desired.  

He looked into Blair's eyes.  "I love you."  

Blair started to respond and Jim shushed him with a kiss.  And then he kept kissing for the sheer pleasure of it.

A while later, he responded to his groin's urging and turned Blair over.  He used pillows until he had Blair's rear hoisted to a desirable level.  He applied the oil to his shaft, then carefully entered the relaxed body that awaited him.

At first, Blair made little grunts of discomfort, but they quickly faded.  When Jim was settled on top of him -- his head, heart, and body so ridiculously happy -- he responded to the beckoning of Blair's open hand and reached to entwine their fingers.

Joined thus, they rested together until Jim sought completion.

---

The next afternoon they were escorted to a room in an older part of the castle, where six men sat around a large wooden table.  They were efficient and stately looking, wearing decorative robes.  They had many binders full of paper, some of which Jim recognized as printouts from a computer.

Jim watched the men take in their new haircuts.  Blair did look somehow more attractive with his hair falling only inches past his neck, while Jim had yielded to his balding scalp and had his hair trimmed down to a severe cut of just an inch or so.

The Empress stood at the head of the table.  She nodded toward the two vacant chairs, one on each side of the table.  "Be seated."

Jim and Blair obeyed.

The chairs were hard, and Jim made an effort not to grimace.  After being true to his word this morning, Blair had finally entered him, and muttered "Perfect, perfect, perfect" as he pumped toward completion.  

Jim was still getting used to the idea of making love to Blair, and then wanting to love him some more after the pleasure had receded.  Wanting to be with him all the time, even when they weren't looking to appease their lust.

"I will be brief," the Empress said.  "This man," she put her hand on the shoulder of the gray-haired man seated to her right, "is Premier Rachkins.  You will answer only to him, and he answers only to me.  This," she gestured about the table, "is his staff.  Their first loyalty is to him, just as your first loyalty is to each other. Premier Rachkins will give you your assignment.  If you are successful, you will be greatly rewarded.  If not...," she paused significantly, "we do not expect to hear from you again, for you will most likely be dead."

Jim watched and heard Blair gulp.

"I leave you to the Premier," she said, and then exited the room.

Rachkins shifted to a more relaxed position and folded his hands on the table.  "I will get right to the point.  We suspect that one of our agents is doubling as an agent for the enemy.  We need proof one way or the other.  Once you have such proof, we will decide how to proceed."

The afternoon was a long one.  The Premier's staff provided numerous documents on their suspect, some of which Jim and Blair were asked to memorize on the spot; others they would be allowed to take with them.  In the meantime, the staff was busy writing up orders that would be signed by the Empress.  Jim and Blair were to have full access to any small equipment and supplies they needed from the army.  They couldn't travel by any more modern means than horseback, but they would be allow to choose their mounts from the army's available stock.   The Premier did not tell them how to accomplish their mission, only that their mark -- whom they were given pictures and drawings of -- was last assigned to the Timus region, across the Channel and east of the Empire, where he was supposed to be documenting potential enemies' advances in high tech equipment.  They suspected he was, in actuality, sharing documents of the Empire's equipment advances with the various governments in the Timus region.

"Any other questions?" the Premier asked when there seemed nothing further to say about the mission.

"Yes," Blair said.  "I would like to visit my mother in the Northern Territory before we start our mission.  It would delay us a week to ten days.  When she last saw me, I was leaving for Sanctuary to die.  She doesn't know I've been cured of the Keetan's Disease."

One of the staff members said, "We can send her a cable that will reach her within a day."

Blair held up a hand.  "No.  No.  That won't work.  She would have no reason to trust a message like that.  She'll have to see me in person to believe I'm alive and well."

"Very well," the Premier said.  "But we will expect you to be on your way to the Channel in ten days hence."

"That'll be enough time, Chief," Jim told him.  "With good army horses, it won't take us that long to get there."

"Thank you," Blair said to the Premier.  He leaned toward Jim and whispered, "Chief?"
  
"You're cute when you take charge," Jim whispered back, deciding he liked the nickname.

Blair waved a hand at him dismissively.

Jim grinned.

"You can leave for the army base outside Klazam at dawn tomorrow morning," the Premier told them.

Jim and Blair nodded.

One more night in that big, wonderful bed, Jim thought.  I think, tonight, I'll just kiss him to death.

"There is one final matter," the Premier said.

"Which is?" Jim prompted.

"The branding."

Blair's heart raced as he gasped, "Branding?"

Jim realized he should have known.  He'd heard some references over the years to the Empress's agents being branded as a way to prove beyond a doubt on whose behalf they were acting.  He noticed that some of the staff's expressions hardened at Blair's remark.

The Premier continued, "It's required of all the Empress's secret agents, so they can identify each other, if necessary.  It's a small brand of a symbol unique to the agency.  Nothing like what is done to the prisoners.  The man who does it is highly experienced and the pain is relatively minimal. Infection is rare."

"Where will they put it?" Blair still seemed to be in shock, and Jim wondered if he might somehow be able to protect him from this.  For himself, he'd suffered far worse unpleasantries at the hands of the enemy, as well as his own unit for various necessary reasons.

"If we are always together," Jim put in before the Premier could answer, "there is no reason for Blair to have the brand.  His loyalty to me, and my carrying the Empress's brand, should be enough."

"No, Jim," Blair put in forcefully.  "If it happens to one of us, it happens to both of us.  Otherwise, it's too dangerous if my being unbranded causes suspicion."

"Blair is right," the Premier said.  He shifted.  "The brand is put on the inside of the right upper buttock.  That way, it's highly unlikely anyone will see it, unless you choose to show them."

Jim felt a hardening in the pit of his stomach.  The last thing he wanted to look forward to was spreading Blair's sweet ass cheeks with the intent to pleasure him, and be met with a view of the Empress's brand.  "We request another location."

Blair rapidly nodded his head.  "We insist on another location."

The Premier apparently wasn't going to pretend to be ignorant of the way they loved each other, for all he said was, "What other location do you recommend?"

Jim and Blair looked at each other.  Blair's hair covered a multitude of potential locations.  "What about behind an ear?" Jim said.

Blair snorted.  "You don't have any hair to cover it up."

Jim grimaced at the reminder.

Blair said, "Uhh.... What about between our toes?  Nobody would ever think to look there."

Jim considered that.  It made sense.  "Will that work?"

The Premier was thoughtful, then he nodded.  "It will have to be to the inside of the big toe.  The brands are too large to apply to any other toe."

Jim listened to Blair's heartbeat increase.

The Premier stood.  "Let us go, then, to the lower levels where the brandmaster waits."

Jim could almost feel Blair shudder as they all stood.  He put his arm around him and pulled him close.  Hopefully, the Premier was true to his word about the brandmaster's skill.

As they all started down an ancient-smelling, spiraling staircase, Blair asked, "How come all of you are coming?"

The Premier replied, "The branding requires witnesses.  You are not agents of the Empress until it is done."

"Won't one witness do?" Blair insisted, as they continued down.

"Many years ago," the Premier replied, "it was determined that it was too easy for one to be bribed to say that the branding had taken place, when it had not.  It has been traditional that the Premier's entire staff witness the event."

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder.  "It'll be okay, Chief."  He wasn't looking forward to the pain that Blair would have to endure, but he didn't think dwelling on it was helping matters.

One of the staff opened a narrow iron door.  "We have brought them, Brandmaster."

Jim stepped inside, with Blair following behind.  The room was dark due to only one lamp in a corner, and a metal pot that set over a fire.  Sticking out from the pot were two thin irons.   A muscular, yet gentle-faced man stood next to the kettle with his arms crossed.  Next to him was a younger man who Jim guessed to be his apprentice.

Blair held up his hands and announced, "All right, I'm admitting right up front that I'm going to be a big baby about this."  His voice quieted as he turned to Jim.  "So, you go first, Jim.  That way, I'll be able to guide you through the pain before it's my turn."

Oh, right.  Jim had forgotten that the pain, even for him, could be a problem.  A big problem.

The Premier had moved near the brandmaster.  "I assure you that the brandmaster prides himself on an efficient job that keeps pain to a minimum."

"That's not the point!" Blair said angrily.  "Jim has a gift.  Part of his gift is that his sense of touch is much more sensitive than that of the rest of us.  But that also means he feels pain much more intensely.  So, tell us how you're going to do this, and then give me a few minutes to get Jim prepared."

Jim was surprised at his own lack of embarrassment.  Blair was in charge here, and that somehow made it all okay.

The Premier said to the brandmaster, "The location of the brand is to be on the inside of the right big toe."

"That's a new one," the brandmaster said.  "But it shouldn't be a problem."  He made some gestures to his assistant, and the latter began to spread out a blanket on the floor.  "Sit down here and take off your boot and sock."

Jim obeyed. He sat on the blanket with his bare foot out in front of him.  Blair knelt at his side.  

Blair said to the brandmaster, "Get everything ready.  But don't you dare touch him with the iron until I say so."

"You have my word," the man replied.

"All right, Jim," Blair spoke in a soothing voice.  "Close your eyes.  Now, remember when the pain hits the inside of your big toe, imagine it like a fire with flames. Know that it's something you can control.  You're going to start throwing water on it immediately and drowning out the fire.  Let's go through a practice one."  Blair waited a beat.  "When I say now, there's a fire burning on the inside of your big toe."

Jim nodded.  

"Now."

A flame appeared on the inside of his toe.

"You're throwing water on it," Blair said calmly.  "The flames are dying down."

Jim continued the fantasy in his mind, until the flames were no more.

"Good.  Good, Jim."  Blair released a breath.  "Okay, do you think you're ready?"

"I'm ready," Jim assured.  Keeping his eyes closed, he felt his four smaller toes pulled away form his large toe, which was pulled in the opposite direction.  An ointment was smeared on the inside of his large toe.  Hands leaned on his ankle to hold him still.

"Okay," Blair said, "they're going to apply the iron on the count of three.  When the pain hits, know that you can control it."  Swallow.  "One... two... three."

The most intense pain and smell of burning flesh ignited the inside of his big toe.  

"You're throwing water on it," Blair's voice came through the haze of his brain.  "You're drowning out the flames."

Jim realized he'd gasped.  But he obeyed, seeing the water going on the flames, reducing them.  He was aware of sweat breaking out on his upper lip and in his armpits.

"The flames are getting lower," Blair's voice continued steadily, "the water is drowning them out."

Jim was aware of some soothing spray being applied to the wound.

"The flames are lower and lower," Blair continued.  "Don't let them die completely.  Let yourself be aware of the wound so that you pamper it until it's healed."

His shoulder was squeezed as Blair said, "Good, Jim.  Very good.  You're in control.  You can open your eyes now."

Jim did.  A bandage was being applied to his toe by the apprentice.

"That's remarkable," the brandmaster said with admiration.  He still held the smoldering iron.  "I've had some men not cry out, but usually they're biting down on something.  One even pissed his pants instead of yelling."

"That'll probably be me," Blair said glumly.  He began removing his boot.  "Only, I'll piss my pants and yell."

It was now Jim's turn to comfort.  He squeezed Blair's shoulder.  "Why don't you spend a few minutes in meditation and get ready for your own visualizing?"

Blair shook his head.  "I won't be able to focus.  It's easier for me to guide you than to apply it to myself.  I just want to get this over with.  Just know that I'll probably scream and maybe even cry."

I love your freedom to be who you are, Jim thought with awe -- and a determination to make this as easy as possible.

Blair's foot was now bare.  Jim moved aside so that Blair could be more centered on the blanket, his leg stretched out to the brandmaster, who had traded the first iron for the second one.

Blair gripped Jim's arm.  "Jim?  Will you be the one to hold my leg down?  I'm afraid I'll jerk and that'll make it worse if the iron doesn't stay in place.  I know you'll be strong enough to hold me still."

"All right," Jim soothed.  He knelt beside Blair, facing his foot, and pressed firmly on Blair's leg.  Over his shoulder, he said, "Put your arms around me and squeeze when you need to."

Blair readily complied, leaning his weight against Jim, pressing his cheek against Jim's back.

The apprentice pulled Blair's other toes away.  The brandmaster took charge of the big toe.  When there was enough space, the younger man spread on an ointment that Jim guessed was supposed to have some anesthetic qualities, for all the good it would do.  The army had injections that could numb a portion of the body completely which the Empress's staff surely had access to, but he supposed there was some sort of proof of loyalty associated with potential agents being able to bear the pain.

The brandmaster gripped the iron and looked up at Jim.  "Is he ready?"

"Take a deep breath," Jim directed over his shoulder.  "Let it out slowly.  Tell us when.  Take as much time as you need."  

"Do it now," Blair whispered a moment later.

Jim nodded at the brandmaster.  The apprentice shined a modern flashlight on the spot in question, and the brandmaster applied the iron there.

An agonizing moan rose up from behind Jim, as the offensive odor of burned flesh filled the air.  A moment later Jim felt wetness at the back of his shirt.  He felt the continued struggle of bone, muscle and tendons as Blair tried to move his leg.

It seemed an eternity before the iron was pulled away.  Blair's moans now became more vocal, higher-pitched.

Finally, the spray was applied.

"It's over," Jim soothed, releasing his grip.  "It's over, it's over."

Instead of relaxing, Blair arms tightened around Jim's waist and he began shaking all over.

Jim shifted to face Blair, gathering him against his chest and shoulder, while staying clear of his foot so the bandage could be applied.  "It's over," he said more softly, one hand against the back of Blair's head, the other around his waist.

Blair quieted, but he kept shaking.

Jim kissed his forehead.

It was only when he pulled back to rest his cheek on top of Blair's head that he became aware of Premier Rachkins and his men standing about the room.  He'd been so focused on Blair -- through both brandings -- that he'd completely forgotten about the witnesses.  He felt a flare of anger at this intrusion into their privacy.

But the men were silent.  One had his mouth open.

They envy us, Jim realized.

Dismissing them from his mind, he tilted Blair's face up and kissed his tears.
  

---

It was early the next afternoon, during an overcast and blustery day, when they entered the huge army compound outside of Klazam, where Jim had last been stationed.  Blair had been given a horse for the journey, so they made quick progress.

At the gate, Jim presented his new ID, now accompanied by Blair's ID.  "Agents Ellison and Sandburg.  We are here to see Colonel Worthington."

"One moment," the guard replied smartly, and he stepped inside his guardhouse to get on a phone.

Jim could barely hold in his grin at how satisfying this felt.  The Empire's secret agents automatically outranked all military personnel -- except generals, whom they were equal to -- because they answered to the Empress's immediate staff.  He had a special interest in Colonel Worthington.  This man had been the most adamant about ridiculing Jim out loud when he'd been suffering uncontrollably with pain from the bullet that nicked his ribs.

That was a mere six weeks ago, he recalled with awe.  How completely -- and wonderfully -- his life had changed since then.  He had to resist the urge to put his arm around Blair and draw him close.

They were soon allowed past the gate, and a private escorted them to the Colonel's office.  The Colonel hadn't changed much in six weeks.  He still wore the same ridiculous hairpiece, and his beefy appearance made it clear he spent way too much time behind a desk.

His eyes widened in surprise as Jim and Blair entered.  "So, it is the Jim Ellison."

"Agent Ellison," Jim corrected.

"Yes, of course," the Colonel said without sincerity.  "Please tell me, how is it you left Sanctuary, apparently cured of your condition, became an agent, and received an assignment from the Empress in such a short time?"

A part of Jim wanted to emphasize that his "condition" was a gift -- or, better yet, have Blair set the bastard straight.  But he didn't want to waste time on small talk with this idiot.  Instead, he tossed some papers onto the desk.  "These are orders from the Empress on our behalf.  You are to gather these supplies immediately. We want to be on our way north before sundown."

The Colonel frowned at Jim's brusqueness.  He took the first document and perused it.  "This seems in order."

"They're all in order," Jim told him.  "Our list of needed supplies is long."

Blair added, "Very long."

The Colonel looked Blair up and down, his expression turning to one of disdain.  "Who is this little... man?"  He said the last scornfully.

"Agent Sandburg to you, asshole," Blair said.

Easy, Chief, Jim silently cautioned, though a part of him was amused.  He'd already told Blair of his history with the Colonel.

"Why you-" the Colonel snarled at Blair, bracing his hands against the desk as though to rise.

Jim was faster and grabbed the man across the desk, his hand tight on his collar.  "Listen here, Colonel.  Not only do I outrank your sorry ass right now, but I'm also a hell of a lot stronger than you are.  So, you'd better get those supplies gathered, or I'll shove your despicable carcass down an outhouse while I overtake your office and take care of it myself."  Jim paused for breath.  "You smell like you need a visit there anyway, since you've been farting green chili all afternoon."  He watched the man's eyes widen in amazement -- and fear -- that Jim so accurately described his most recent meal.  "And don't think that I don't know that you jerked off at your desk this morning, because no whore will have you."  Jim threw him back down in his chair, which rocked with his weight.

Jim straightened, realizing that subordinates in the room had stepped forward at his attack, but none of them could act since Jim was the highest-ranked man in the room.  Plus, he could hear one guard trying not to snicker.

Keeping a wary, angry eye on Jim, the Colonel picked up the documents and held them out to one side.  "Lieutenant?"

A man stepped forward.

"Take these and see to the gathering of these supplies as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you," Blair said to the Colonel with extreme cheer.

Jim threw another document on the desk.  "Get on the phone to your stable sergeant.  Tell him to gather this unit's finest horses.  Agent Sandburg and I will each select a mount.  Then we will select your finest pack animal to carry our supplies."

Face red with anger and humiliation, the Colonel reached for the phone.

---

This army outpost was one of the largest in all the Empire.  As such, it had an indoor riding arena, where new recruits were taught the necessary basics of how to ride a horse.  When Jim and Blair arrived at the stables, a number of horses were milling freely about within the arena.

Jim knew that Sergeant Whittle was one who took pride in his work, so he had no need to come down harshly on him.  "We need strong-boned horses who will last on a long journey.  Stamina is more important than speed."

"In that case," the Sergeant said, "we can eliminate a few."  He called to his men, who were nearby, and directed them to open the gate and shoo a few of the horses to the corral outside.  The gate was closed and eight animals were left.

Blair asked, "Who's that really, really tall horse?"

It was a dark bay -- almost black -- with a stripe down his face.  Though not a draft animal, he was unusually tall, with long, thick-boned legs.

Whittle laughed.  "That is one we have had trouble fitting in.  He's willing enough to work, but he is too slow to run with the charging sprinters, and too difficult to pair up with another horse to pull any wagons.  Yet, he's too fine an animal to banish to the farms for plowing."

"And his stamina?" Jim inquired, though he had a difficult time imagining Blair, admittedly not the most confident rider, on such a large animal.

"It takes him quite a while to get those long legs under him," Whittle said, "but once he's rolling... well, he can keep up a steady gallop most of the day without tiring. You'll wear out before he does."

"Is he mean or skittish at all?" Blair asked.

"No.  Actually he's quite even-tempered, which is also why he doesn't fit in with the more spirited cavalry divisions."

"I want to try him," Blair said eagerly.  He looked at Jim, laughing.  "I'd be even taller than you when I'm on him."

Jim remembered that Blair had told him once that he'd always wished he were taller.  If he were riding such a tall horse, he would have his wish for their travels.

"Very well," Whittle said.  He called to a subordinate to tack up the horse in question.  Then he turned to Jim.  "And you, Agent Ellison?"  

Jim shrugged.  "You know what horse would fit me best as well as I do, Sergeant.  Pick one.  In the meantime, I'm going to check on the pack animals."

"They are in the smaller corral out back."

"I remember," Jim said.

A private was putting a bridle on the tall horse.  "Go ahead," Jim encouraged Blair.  "Get to know him while I tend to other business."

Blair jumped the fence and entered the arena, approaching the giant horse.

Jim put his hand on Whittle's shoulder.  "If they seem like a good match, please spend some time teaching Agent Sandburg some basics of riding. He's not very experienced."

"Very well, sir."

---

Jim was gone much longer than he'd anticipated.  He ended up selecting a dirty-white mule as a pack animal.  He oversaw much of the gathering of supplies, because he wanted to make sure his list was followed by the bored privates to whom the orders had been handed.  

When he returned to the indoor arena, it was empty of horses, save the tall gelding who was standing unattended in the center of the arena; and a stocky chestnut saddled and tied to a far post.

"Hey, Jim!" Blair called.  "Watch this!"  Blair was about twenty feet away from the tall horse, facing its side.  He rushed toward it, and Jim felt his heart launch into his throat as he imagined disaster from the horse shying away from Blair running at him.

But the animal stood still as Blair, from about six feet away, leapt from the ground and vaulted into the saddle.  "How's that for a fast mount?" Blair asked proudly.

"That's....," Jim found himself at a loss for words, since he was torn between lecturing Blair on such a dangerous thing and gushing with admiration. After all, such an action might come in handy someday.  "That's.  Great.  Chief."

Blair nudged the horse with his heel and it took a few steps toward Jim.  "It beats trying to climb into the saddle from so far down."

Whittle appeared at Jim's side.  "The horse was uneasy about the vault at first, but he quickly understood that Agent Sandburg wasn't going to hurt him."

"Where did you learn that?" Jim asked as Blair halted next to the fence.  

"I used to vault on and off a little pony I had when I was five."  Blair's grin widened.  "I still have it in me."  He turned the horse and they trotted away.

"Agent Sandburg is a quick study," Whittle said to Jim.  "He was very attentive when I gave him some instruction.  Despite his being such a short man for such a tall horse, they seem to get on very well."

"Excellent," Jim said, proud of Blair.

The sergeant tilted his head toward the chestnut.  "That is your horse.  She's a young mare who has a tendency to spook, because she has never been to war.  But a few days of hard travel should work most of the kinks out.  I know you'll be firm with her, as necessary."

"Thank you," Jim said.  He entered the arena and went to the mare.  He tightened the girth, then mounted.  After adjusting his stirrups, and reprimanding the mare for trying to move while he did so, he finally joined Blair and his horse, walking around the arena.

Blair hadn't stopped grinning from ear-to-ear since spotting the gelding.  He was a full foot taller than Jim when they both were mounted.

"This is Giant," Blair said, patting his horse on the neck.  "What's your horse's name?"

Jim scoffed, "I don't name horses, Chief.  They're transportation, not pets."

"Still," Blair defended, "they're one of Bree's creatures, with souls.  We're going to have a long journey with these horses."

Jim shrugged.  "Her coat is red.  So, I'll call her Red."

Blair rolled his eyes in exasperation.  "You've got such a vivid imagination, Jim."

Jim countered, "The name Giant demonstrates 'vivid imagination'?"

"Hey," Blair defended, "he's tall.   He's big and powerful, but gentle -- like the giants I used to read about in fairy tales when I was a kid.  Giant fits him."

Jim decided not to remind Blair of their mule.  He thought "Mule" would work just fine for a name.  Instead, he changed the subject, and asked sotto voice, "How's your toe?  I'm surprised you were able to do that vault without it bothering you."  He and Blair had carefully cleaned and bandaged each other's wounds twice today, applying the ointment that the brandmaster had given them.  Jim had been aware of a slight pain all day long, but now it was getting more pronounced as evening approached, and he had to keep pausing to imagine throwing water on it to cool the flames.

Blair leaned down to him and grimaced.  "I'd forgotten it, so I sort of overdid it.  Hurts a lot right now."

"Let's see how far we can get before we need to stop and change our bandages.  I'd like to get a few miles down the road before sunset."

"Are we all ready?" Blair asked.

"Almost.  The mule is packed with our supplies.  But there's one more stop I want to make."

---

Blair's mouth fell open as he stood in the center of the large room and turned around and around.  Jim had dismissed everyone else.

Guns hung from the walls and were stacked in the corners.  Knives, spears, slingshots, and other weapons used by little-known cultures were displayed upon tables.

"Why are we here, Jim?" Blair asked nervously.

"I want you to pick out a weapon for yourself.  I'll teach you how to use it."

Blair shook his head.  "I don't know, Jim.  The idea of killing...."

Keeping his tone reasonable, for he had expected this, Jim said, "What if I were injured and unable to defend myself, and an enemy was attacking me? What would you do?"

"Fight him," Blair replied immediately, "with all my might."

"That's difficult to do without a weapon.  It's a sure thing we would both lose our lives."

Blair released a breath, pushing his hair back.  "All right.  All right.  I see your point."

"Choose one," Jim prompted.

Blair walked slowly about the room.  Jim wasn't surprised that his young partner stayed away from the guns altogether.  Instead, he was studying the more primitive items, which would necessitate a more personal attack.

Finally, Blair selected one.  "This."

It was a thick knife carried in a leather pouch and belt.  Jim dialed up sight, and assumed from the knife's worn inscription that it had been lifted from a dead warrior quite a few decades ago -- probably in the Timus region before it became more modern.

"Strap it on," Jim instructed.  "I will teach you how to use it as we travel to your mother's."

---

The air got colder as they traveled north the following days, and autumn's chilly breeze dominated the weather.

They often talked for distraction.  Giant's strides, while long, were lazy, so Red could easily keep up with him, and they were able to travel side-by-side.  The mule was slower, but he was also trained to follow so no lead rope was necessary.  When he dropped too far behind, he would break into a trot to catch up.

On the third day, Jim was surprised when Blair told him that he and his mother, Naomi, had only lived in their village since Blair started attending Temmock University, which was more than a day away.  He would visit Naomi during the holidays.

"I thought you grew up in the Northern Territory," Jim said.  He couldn't fathom, though, why Blair was so sensitive to cold, since the Northern Territories could get quite cold.  They were now two days away from Naomi's village, and there had been a dusting of snow overnight and the skies were grey.

"Mostly," Blair agreed, "but not in the same village.  We moved around a lot.  My mom falls in love with men very easily, but she doesn't like staying with any of them long.  She's very love-'em-and-leave-'em."

"So, you never had any kind of father," Jim said, trying to imagine what that would be like.  Of course, he didn't know what it was like to have a mother, since his had left him when he was a small child.

Blair shook his head.  "There were some of her men that I liked, but it was never a father-son relationship that I had with any of them.  Which was just as well, since we would have just moved on from them, anyway."  He was quiet a moment.  "I'm glad I didn't get attached."

Jim's eye caught something in the distance where there was a line of trees at the top of a hill.  He halted his mare and signaled for Blair to do the same.

"What is it?" Blair asked.

Jim's eyes zeroed in on a gruff-looking man riding one horse, and leading another that was burdened with animal skins.

"What?" Blair asked again.

Jim looked at him.  "I think that trapper on the hill is just about to make a sale."  Jim reached around to his saddle bags and took out some money that the Premier had given them.  "Watch the mule," he told Blair.  "And wait here."  He kicked his mare and sent her galloping toward the trapper.

---

When Jim returned, he had two skins draped across his mare's neck.  He held up one to Blair.  "Take it."

Blair did, and he almost dropped it.  "Wow, it's heavy."

"It's bearskin.  These will keep us warm through the worst of winter."

Blair stared at it, frowning.

"You don't look happy," Jim observed.  He had strapped his own skin to the back of his saddle.

Blair said, "I didn't want this bear's life to be taken, just so I could be warm."

Jim was getting a bit tired his partner's excessive sentimentality, but he held his temper.  "The bear is already dead, Chief.  Refusing to be warm isn't going to bring its life back."

"But if nobody bought skins, then bears wouldn't be killed."

Jim released a weary sigh, wondering how one argued with stubbornness like that.

Blair nudged Giant into a walk as he draped the skin over the horse's neck.  "I need to do a meditation tonight and ask Bear for permission to use his fur."

That answer had better be yes, Jim thought irritably.

---

Jim sipped his coffee in the waning darkness of a new, chilly dawn.  Upon wakening, he had encouraged Blair to go back to sleep, content to prepare breakfast alone.

Blair was wrapped in his bearskin, tucked down so that only the top of his head was visible.  Whatever conversation he had had with Bear during his meditation must have appeased his guilt, for Blair had bonded with the animal skin almost as quickly as he had with Giant.

As always, Blair was naked as he slept, and Jim was thankful that, since purchasing the skins, it was less of a battle to get Blair to strip down in the chilly autumn nights.  Granted, Blair was always grateful in the morning when he had the warm clothes to pull on, but undressing had gotten to be a nightly argument.

No more.  Blair had the warmth, safety, and security of the animal pelt -- a wonderful addition to whatever heat they might create between their bodies once bedding down.

Today, they should reach Blair's village.  

Jim sighed, wondering why he felt uneasy about that.

---

Blair had grown more talkative as the hours of the morning passed.  The sun had burned away the worst of the chill, and he chattered away about his recollections of village life as they covered more miles.  Finally, he said, "It's just over the hill."

Jim nodded.

Nervously, Blair went on, "We'll reach my mother's house before the village itself.  Hopefully, she's at home."

A few minutes later they crested the small hill.  They looked down a tree-lined lane with a row of widely spaced houses.   Near the far end, Jim could see a woman sprinkling seed on the ground for some chickens.

"That woman," Blair said breathlessly, "can you see what she looks like?"

Jim focused on the woman.  "Short, reddish hair.  Petite.  Yellow dress."

"That's my mom," Blair said in a shaking voice, sending Giant down the hill.  "That's my mom!"

Jim followed, grateful that Giant was unable to get his long legs into a canter until the hill had leveled out.  

"Mom!" Blair began to shout, waving.  "Mom!  Mom!"

With his own mare cantering, Jim could see the woman look up.  Her eyes narrowed as Giant came closer.  And then she dropped everything from her arms and started running toward Blair, her arms outstretched.  "BLAIR!  BLAIR!"

Blair jerked Giant to a halt, and vaulted from the gelding's back before his legs had stopped moving.  Blair landed on his feet at a run.

The two bodies collided and seemed to meld into one as mother and son embraced and swung each other back and forth, so many sobs emerging from between them that Jim wasn't sure if one or both were crying.

He felt like an intruder as he brought Red to a halt next to Giant.  He glanced back to see that the mule was trotting briskly in order to catch up.

He returned his attention to Blair and Naomi, both of whom were trying to talk at the same time.

"You look wonderful!" Naomi was finally able to exclaim, holding Blair's face in her hands.

"I'm cured, Mom," Blair said in a shaking voice.  "I'm cured."

She crushed him to her once again, seeming to almost squeeze the breath right out of him.

Jim wondered what it would have been like to have been raised by a mother who loved him, instead of being brought into the world by a woman who thought so little of him that she left him behind.

Realizing he was being rude in the presence of a lady, Jim slowly dismounted.

"Are you really all right, baby?" Naomi asked, holding Blair's face again.

"Yes," Blair choked out.  "It's because of Jim."

"Jim?" she asked in puzzlement.  Then she noticed that Blair's companion was there.  Her smile left.

But Blair's was still beaming as he stepped toward Jim and reached to take his hand.   "This is Jim, Naomi."

She nodded at him, but with a worried frown.  

Jim nodded back.  "Miss Sandburg."

"We're pledged, Mom.  Jim and me.  I have so much to tell you!"

"Pledged?" she asked.

"Mind, body and soul," Blair told her.  "It's because of Jim that I'm here."

"Jim cured you?" she asked uneasily.

"Not exactly.  But he's the one who was able to tell that the Keetan's Disease had left my body when we were both in Sanctuary.  There's so much I have to tell you!"

Jim still felt he was in the way.  Politely, he said, "If you could tell me where I can put the horses up, I'll tend to them while you two visit."

Blair pulled on Jim's hand.  "The horses can keep for a while.  Come inside."

Naomi draped her arms around Blair from behind.  "Jim's right, honey.  We need some time alone first.  You left here to die." Tears fell from her eyes and her voice trembled.  "Now I have you back.  I'm sure Jim will understand."

"I quite understand," Jim assured.

She wiped her eyes, then pointed.  "The barn is back there, near the creek."  Her expression softened when she looked at him again.  "Please come and join us when the horses are settled.  I bet it's been a while since you've had a home-cooked meal."

Jim smiled at her attempt to welcome him.  "I'll do that."  His eyes turned to Blair.  "Go ahead and visit with your mother alone for a while.  I have plenty to keep me busy for an hour or so."

Blair squeezed his arm.  "All right."  But his expression seemed puzzled.

Naomi's arms were around Blair again.  "Come inside, honey."

"You won't believe everything I've seen, Mom!"  Blair exclaimed as he allowed himself to be led away.

---

Later, when clouds had overtaken the sun, Jim passed the time brushing off the mule.  He'd unpacked their belongings, watered the livestock at the creek, and now had them settled in stalls in the barn, munching on hay.  He wanted to keep finding excuses to stay in the barn.

At first, he'd been so intent on his chores that his senses stayed at ease.  But now, with the barn quiet, save the animals' munching and the sounds of the brush against winter fur, Naomi's and Blair's excited voices carried from the house.

At first, Jim tried not to listen, but he couldn't shut his hearing down.  It seemed to automatically perk up at the sound of Blair's voice.  Finally, he decided he would confess to Blair that he had listened in.

There certainly seemed nothing secretive about their conversation.  Talking a mile a minute -- and with Naomi interrupting a mile a minute -- Blair had told her what had taken place in Sanctuary.  How they had gone to the army camp and gotten the negative blood test.  Then traveling to Klazam to see the Empress.  Yet, he skipped a lot of details in his rush to tell her everything at once.

As Jim continued brushing the mule, he heard Naomi say, "I just don't understand what you see in this - this man."

Blair sputtered in exasperation, "You don't even know him, Mom!  Jim is the finest man I've ever known."

"But he's so grim... and sad, almost."

"He's been a soldier all his adult life."

"A soldier!" she exclaimed in horror.

That was a detail Blair had neglected to tell her.

"Yes, Mom.  But it's not like you think.  He doesn't enjoy killing.  And he's not ruthless like some soldiers I've seen.  I guess he locked his heart away so it couldn't be touched by... all the bad stuff."  Blair voice became thicker.  "Then he opened his heart and gave it to me."

"I don't know, Blair," she sighed.  "Making friends with such a man is one thing, but pledging yourself...."

"Mom, listen.  Listen.  When I was in Sanctuary, I wasn't prepared.  I had hardly any belongings, even though I knew I could live as long as two months.  Jim knew all about surviving in the wilderness.  After a few days, when he saw how cold I got at night, he invited me into his sleeping roll, so that I could be warm between his body and the fire.  He never took advantage of me, Mom.  I wouldn't have minded if he had, but he didn't.  Even though we slept nude."

"Nude!"

"Yeah."  Jim could imagine Blair's grin.  "Did you know that, even if it's really cold at night, it's best to sleep naked with your clothes close to your body, so that when you wake up in the even colder morning they feel so nice and warm to put on?"

"Blair, honey -"

"I'm not done telling you about Jim.  He was so kind to me, even knowing I was dying.  Sanctuary is so big and beautiful that he could simply have walked away. But he was very comforting.  He's seen so much death, I guess, that he wasn't afraid of it.  He offered to take my notebook and deliver it to my University colleagues after I died.  He offered to dispose of my body as I wished.  He told me he would stay with me until the end," Blair swallowed thickly, "and make my passing as comfortable as possible."

"Oh, Blair."  Jim heard sniffles.

"He's the one who insisted I see a doctor when he suspected I was cured, because his gift allowed him to smell that the poison of the disease inside my body was gone.  He took me to an army doctor -- they have the most incredible equipment! -- and the doctor was a pervert pretending to be a physician, and Jim protected me from him, even though we were pretending I was a prisoner."

"A prisoner!"

Blair chuckled.  "Yeah.  We had to pretend I was a valuable prisoner, since that's the only way we could figure out for the best doctors to see me, and it also allowed him to stay with me every moment.  The doctor was such an asshole.  He acted like there was something wrong with me because I was from the Northern Territory.  And I could tell he likes it with men, but the army frowns on that, so he gets his thrills looking at and feeling men's private parts, while trying to claim it's for medical reasons.  Jim wouldn't let him examine me without my consent, and I wouldn't give it."  He laughed.  "Man, that doctor was really pissed off."

Blair's voice grew softer.  "It was only after we knew I was cured that Jim allowed his passion for me to appear, and -- man -- I was so ready by then, because I had so much passion for him, too.  But it's more than passion, Naomi.  After our lust is quenched, I still want to be with him. I feel so close to him.  That's never happened when I've bedded the village girls, or those at the University."

"Blair, honey, I know this is all new to you.  But what you don't realize is that eventually you'll tire of him.  And then you'll be sorry you're pledged."

Jim paused in his brushing, his chest tightening.

"Mom, I'm sorry, but you're wrong.  Just plain wrong.  When Jim pledged himself to me, he did it without knowing that I'd pledge myself to him.  He cares for me. With all our traveling, some nights we're too exhausted to have any desire.  Even then, he's affectionate and loving.  I feel special and wonderful when I'm with him, even when his touches aren't sending me to heaven.  Man, he touches me in places the village girls would never even think about."  Blair's voice lowered.  "I think a part of it has to do with his gift.  How he makes me feel, when he pleasures me, is something impossible to put into words."  Pause, then a very pleased, "I think I make him feel really, really good too -- like he's never felt before."

Touché, Chief.  Jim ducked under the mule's head and started brushing the other side.

"I'm glad you're so happy, Blair.  But I can't help but think this is all sounding too good to be true."

Soft laugh.  "Yeah, I guess it seems that way.  But we have a perfect relationship. Well... almost.  We've never had a big argument or anything, but I think I drive Jim a bit crazy sometimes because I talk so much.  I think he's used to being able to keep his thoughts to himself, and I tend to make him talk.  And since I talk all the time, I think that sort of grates on his nerves."  Pause.  "But I'll never leave him. Not ever.  That would be the same as ripping out my heart.  Bree gave me the Keetan's Disease so I would go to Sanctuary and find Jim.  Once Jim proved his honor, Bree allowed my visualizations to cure the Keetan's.  Jim is my whole world. My destiny is intertwined with his."

Silence.

Subdued, Naomi said, "I suppose I should be grateful, then, that you bothered to come and visit."  She scoffed.  "My son, serving the Empire I've always spoken out against."

"Don't be like that, Naomi.  Bree has a plan for me and Jim.  Serving the Empire is what makes the most sense right now.  It would be a violation of Bree's gift for Jim to spend his life farming, or something as mundane as that.  Maybe, someday, our travels will take us to a land where people don't conquer others for the mere sake of conquering, and we'll want to settle down.  If so, we could send for you so you can join us."

"Blair, I'm so happy you're healthy.  And happy.  But I can't pretend to be glad that you've already chosen a lifetime companion.  Especially one such as him -- a soldier who serves the Empress.  Still, I'm grateful to him for all the good he's done for you."

"Maybe you can tell him that to his face," Blair said.  Pause.  "Where is Jim?  He should have finished with the horses well before now."

Jim noticed that darkness was falling.

"It was considerate of him to allow us to have time together," Naomi said.  

"Yes.  But we've never been apart for very long.  I already miss him."

Jim swallowed thickly.

"Then go out and find him, sweetie.  I'll get dinner ready."

---

Later, with full stomachs and tired from the long and exciting day, Jim and Blair snuggled together on the narrow bed in Blair's old room, defying Naomi's concern that it was too small for the two of them.  Blair had insisted that they slept pressed together more often than not, and the small bed wouldn't be a problem.

As they lay awake, Blair practically on top of Jim, Jim's hand leisurely stroked through Blair's hair.

Blair said, "You're uncomfortable here in my mom's house, aren't you?"

Jim wasn't sure how to answer that.  The direct answer was easy, but not the explanation.  He replied, "I'm not used to being around parents and their children."   He amended, "Though with you and your mom, it's more like you're good friends than mother and son."

"Yeah, I guess we've always been like that.  Wherever we've lived, a lot of the other kids always thought my mom was neat because she seemed to be more fun and less of a disciplinarian than other parents."  He nudged Jim.  "Don't change the subject."

"I wasn't."  But Jim had to think a minute to remember the question.  He replied, "I guess I'm just not used to being around people where so much emotion is expressed."

"Oh. Well, my Mom was glad to see me."

"Of course.  You and she had every right to be happy to see each other.  I was just answering your question."

"That's not the whole answer," Blair pointed out.

No, it wasn't.  Jim released a breath.  "I'm a little jealous.  I've been used to having you to myself.  Don't worry -- I already hate myself for feeling that way."

Blair patted Jim's chest.  "Not to worry, you'll have me all to yourself again soon.  And, you know, I can sort of understand it.  If you suddenly met up with an old army buddy and had all sorts of stuff to catch up on, I think I'd feel jealous."

Blair was always so easy to talk to.  "Seeing you and your mom together -- and all that love between you -- it's hard not to wonder why my mother found it so easy to leave me behind.  What was wrong with me that she didn't want me?"

Blair gazed at him in the darkness.  Thickly, he said, "Maybe she thought you'd be better off with your father.  It might have been a huge sacrifice on her part; maybe she wanted to take you with her more than anything, but she felt it was in your best interest not to."

Jim appreciated the effort Blair was making.  But he shook his head.  "I can't believe that.  I just can't.  There's no evidence that she felt that way.  That explanation doesn't feel right."

Blair patted Jim again, as though having nothing else to say.

Jim hugged him, to show he wasn't expecting solutions.

A moment later, he felt a hand snake down and grip his maleness.  It responded immediately.

Blair's breath whispered across his face.  "Let me take your mind off things and put you to sleep."

Jim wanted that, but, "We're under your mother's roof."

"So?"  Gentle laugh.  "I don't know about other mothers, but I can assure you that hearing the bed squeak will make my mother very happy."  Blair sobered.  "I'll be real quiet and suck all the tension right out of you.  I won't even make 'mmm' noises."

Jim closed his eyes and spread his legs so Blair could get more comfortably between them.  His hand rested in Blair's hair as Blair scooted back, beneath the covers.

Jim's other hand held his cock, eager to guide it into that perfect mouth -- the one where lips, tongue, and oral muscles would work together in such a way as to almost make him believe in Bree.

The loving cavern enclosed him and Jim knew nothing else.

---

Two days later, it was grey and blustery again, with snow flurries in the air.  

Naomi placed a cup of tea before Jim, and then sat down across from him.  "Blair is visiting some friends who are home from the University.  They're all meeting in the next village."

"Yes, he told me he would be away a few hours," Jim said, realizing he was telling her what she already knew.  He was at a loss as to what else to say to her.  They seemed to get along fine, but they'd always had Blair as an intermediary.  This time, they were alone.

Her eyes watched him.  She said, "Blair thinks the sun rises and sets by you, Jim Ellison."

He couldn't tell if her words were a complaint.  But one thing he did know, and he stated, "The feeling is mutual."  He felt uncomfortably bashful then.

"It's difficult for me to approve of you.  You represent so many of the Empire's ways that I've always detested.  And now I see Blair following where you lead."

Jim appreciated her honesty.  It made it easier for him to be likewise.  "He's intelligent enough to make his own choices.  He's the smartest man I've ever met."

"Yes, he's brilliant," she said, running her finger along the rim of her cup.  Then she looked back up at him.  "But he is also naïve.  He trusts far too easily."

"He is also too tender-hearted," Jim put in.  He sipped his tea.  "But for all his faults, I love him with all that I am."  He lowered his eyes, not accustomed to speaking so personally to anyone other than Blair.  "If I ever knew joy in my life, I don't remember it.  Blair has shown me joy.  Now that I have known it, I will not lose it."

She gazed at him for a long time.  Then she looked away.  "He's been cured of his illness, all so he can run off with you and probably die a much more violent death."

Jim waited until she looked back at him.  "Naomi, I will give my life before I will allow his to be taken.  But I will not protect him from life."

Her eyes searched his.  "You are wise, Jim Ellison, to understand that you can't stop him from living."

Uncomfortably, he pointed out, "Whenever we next return here, he will likely be a changed man."

She sighed.  "He's already changed in more ways than I would have thought possible in such a short time.  He carries a knife for self-defense, he's at peace with sleeping with the fur taken from one of Bree's creatures."  Her face wrinkled in disgust.   "He's allowed his body to be mutilated by the Empress's brand."

She was exaggerating, but Jim could understand her dismay, considering the way she had raised Blair.

Her eyes flared at Jim.  "How can you serve one who wreaks so much destruction on so many people -- for no more purpose than to rule over those people?  Has she not conquered enough to satisfy her lust for power and blood?"

"Politics are complicated," Jim said.  "There is always more to it than meets the eye.  However, for soldiers it's often simple.  When you survive battle, your basic needs are seen to.  No soldier of the Empire has ever starved.  For many, that's the reason to join.  You wake up every morning -- if you wake up at all --with a purpose:  To obey."

"Obey like cattle going to slaughter," Naomi said angrily.

"For men who don't know what they want from life, it can make quite a bit of sense."  

She released a heavy breath, then sipped her tea.

Jim shifted, trying to overcome his reluctance to explain further.  "Naomi, please don't misunderstand our purpose for serving the Empire.  I want only to be with Blair, while also being useful to society; and Blair yearns for adventure as a way of quenching his thirst for knowledge.  I realize it sounds ironic, but serving the Empire is the safest way to see lands beyond the Empire.  With the Empress's supplies, orders, money, and brand, we are the safest of all travelers, for few would dare tangle with agents of the Empress.  Granted, when we get outside the Empire, that will change.  Things will be more dangerous and we will have to be more careful to survive.  But even you have to admit that keeping Blair safely at the University isn't a guaranteed path to preserving his life."

She slowly nodded, her expression distant.  "Yes, the Keetan's Disease found him anyway.  They say now that those afflicted are born with it, but it doesn't strike until they reach young adulthood."    

Jim's heart swelled.  "I have never known a man -- especially a young man -- to face death so serenely as Blair did in Sanctuary.  My admiration," he swallowed to clear the lump in his throat, "is something that can't be put into words."  He paused to push down the emotion.  "If anyone deserves to act upon a lust for life, he does."

She regarded him curiously.  "It almost sounds as though it's you following him."

Jim realized he was smiling as he considered that.  "There might be more truth to that than I'd like to consider."

They both laughed softly.

Feeling better now, Jim went on, "I do know that I've learned a lot from him in the short time I've been with him.  About simply... living.  And enjoying."

She sipped her tea, watching him over the rim of the cup.  After swallowing, she said, "You're a good man, Jim Ellison."

---

Two days later, in the chilly dawn, the mule was packed and their horses were ready, standing near the road that led out of the village.

Naomi hugged her shawl to her shoulders after Blair stepped back, having kissed her and turned to his horse.

"I never realized before how tall your horse is," she exclaimed.  

Blair grinned.  "He's a giant.  So, I call him Giant.  Watch this."

Jim braced himself as he watched Blair do his run-and-flying-leap, vaulting onto Giant's back.

Naomi put a hand to her mouth.  "Please tell me that you don't always mount him that way."

"It's the best way," Blair beamed.  "I can't reach the stirrup from the ground."  He patted the dark neck.  "He's really a neat horse, the best I've ever known."  He bent to work with his stirrup leathers.

Naomi turned to Jim.  Quietly, she said, "Bring him back to me someday.  Alive."

"I will do everything in my power," he told her.  "You have my word on it."

She embraced him lightly, as though sensing his embarrassment toward something more demonstrative.  "May Bree bless you both."   

He kissed her cheek.  "We'll be off now."  He turned to Red and mounted.  He had a firm grip on the mule's lead rope this time, for the mule couldn't be trusted to follow until they were well away from the comfort of the village.  He touched Red's side with his heel and she started forward.

Jim didn't look back as he listened to the chorus of "Goodbyes" and "I love yous" that Blair and Naomi called to each other as the distance between them increased.

In a few minutes, they crested the hill that blocked their view of the village.  Blair rushed Giant up to travel at Jim's side.

Having left the village behind, they began their mission.

 

END PART TWO

PART THREE