FAITH SHINES EQUAL
© November 2002 by Charlotte Frost

PART THREE

From the Northern Territory, Jim and Blair intended to travel due east for the first two weeks of their journey, and then slant south, bypassing Klazam completely. Since most of the Empress's troops were fighting to the south of the Empire, they could make good time and not have to worry about avoiding battle.

While there was little snowfall yet, the winds tended to be cold and brisk.  On the worst days, they doubled up on Giant, so that they could keep each other warm while still attempting to make steady progress.  The nights usually found them exhausted and eager to curl up together under their furs.

They had been traveling over a week, and were now well northeast of Klazam, intending to stay east another few days before they would come to the road slanting south.  Jim became grim as he recognized various landmarks around him.   As his mind filled with unwanted memories, he grew less and less interested in talking with Blair.  Sometimes, he wished Blair would just shut up altogether, but he could never bring himself to say so.  Instead, he simply refrained from answering his companion, and he was relieved when Blair seemed to get the message.  Jim was glad when the road narrowed so that they would be forced to travel single-file, rather than side-by-side.

The winds had finally eased when they found a clearing in the trees to set up camp for the night.  When all necessities were taken care of -- meal eaten, horses tended to, more wood added to the fire -- Jim prepared for sleep, pressing himself back against a fallen tree.  Blair got into the bedroll with him, back to Jim's front, both bearskins draped over them.

Jim closed his eyes, hoping to drift off quickly.  Wispy thoughts of forgotten days from long ago teased at his mind.

"Jim?"

Jim was startled awake by the soft voice.  "Mm?" he managed, wishing Blair hadn't interrupted his sleep.

Thick swallow.  "Are you tired of me?"

Oh, no.  A phantom knife stabbed into Jim's chest.  

Voice anxious, Blair said, "My mom says that when two people are pledged, they get tired of each other."

Jim remembered his own anxious moment when he'd heard Naomi say that.  He reached out and brushed along Blair's hair.  "No," he said as gently as he could, "I'm not tired of you.  Not at all."  He wondered if it really would have been so hard to have simply conversed with Blair while he'd been brooding.

"You haven't touched me the last two days," Blair continued in a pained voice.

"I'm sorry," Jim said.  "I'm always tired from riding for so many hours."

"I don't mean that," Blair said even more anxiously.  "It's like you wish I wasn't even here.  You won't speak to me, and you're trying to keep yourself from even brushing against me."  Deep breath.  "What have I done?"

Jim shifted forward the few necessary inches so that his chest was brushing against Blair's back.  His thumb rubbed along Blair's cheek.  "I-I'm sorry." He'd never wanted to have reason to say that to Blair.  "It's - " He couldn't finish, because he didn't know how to put what was inside him into words.

Blair rolled onto his back to look up at Jim.  "What?" he demanded.

That didn't help Jim figure out what to say.  He faltered, "I have a lot on my mind - "

Blair presented a hurt-filled frown.  Then he abruptly scooted away, yanking the top bearskin with him.  He staggered to his feet, then turned his back and went to the other side of the fire.

"What are you doing?" Jim asked.  Are we having a fight?

Blair's back was turned as he knelt and maneuvered the bearskin around him, but he looked over his shoulder at Jim.  "We are pledged to each other and share everything.  If you're going to keep the things 'on your mind' to yourself, then we may as well not even be pledged."  He curled up into a ball, inside the bearskin, his back to Jim and the fire.

Damn.  Jim didn't know what to do.  He'll come back here when he gets cold enough.   Then he considered, Maybe it's just as well without him. He would at least be alone with his thoughts.  He gazed up at the stars in the clear autumn sky.  

A few moments later, he looked over at the tightly curled ball.  He decided to say, "It has nothing to do with you, Blair."

Blair's muffled voice countered, "If it has to do with you, it has to do with me."

"You haven't done anything," Jim tried again.  "The things on my mind -- they have nothing to do with anything you've done."

"It doesn't matter."  Blair still hadn't moved.  "If you won't tell me the things on your mind, then you may as well be mad at me for something I've done because that's how it feels."

Jim sighed.  Never get into a war of words with a University student.  He looked up at the stars again, trying to convince himself that Blair was being unreasonable and demanding.

Dammit, he finally relented.  He threw his own covering aside and shivered as the cold air hit his bare skin.  He trotted over to the curled-up bundle. He squatted beside it, grateful to feel the fire at his back.  "Blair?"  He placed his hand on what looked -- then felt -- like Blair's shoulder.   "I-I admit it -- I'm no good at this. This-this talking thing.  I'm not used to having to do it."  He quickly amended, "Having someone to listen to me."  But that wasn't the whole issue.  "It's just that it's instinctive for me to only reveal what's necessary."

Blair threw the cover back, revealing his hard eyes and set jaw.  "Everything is necessary to talk about between us.  We're dependent on each other."

Jim lowered his eyes under the steely gaze.  "Okay," he relented, "you're right."  He looked up, feeling a cold breeze across his backside.  "Can we please return to our bed where we can be warm?  I'll talk to you."  He still didn't know what he was going to say though.

Blair's expression was still hard as he let Jim help him to his feet, and they moved briskly back to their bedding.  Only, this time, Blair sat back against the tree trunk, wrapped by his bearskin, facing the fire.  Jim did likewise.

"Tell me," Blair insisted, as soon as Jim was settled.

This was starting to feel like an interrogation, but Jim forced back his annoyance.  "We're approaching the place where I grew up," he began.

Blair's expression softened.  "How far?"

"We'll probably pass by the road leading to my father's house by midday tomorrow."  Jim's voice became low.  "I haven't been in this area since I left for the army."

"Is your father still alive?" Blair asked.

"Yes.  The army would have informed me if he'd died."

"Then we can visit - "

"No," Jim said immediately, his heart clenching.  "I don't want to see him.  It's so different between us than between you and your mother.  There was no love."   A part of him couldn't believe he was admitting that out loud.

Blair was silent while his large, concerned eyes studied Jim.

Jim tried to figure out what to say next, how to explain his recent behavior.  "I've never been a man who contemplates the past.  There's never been any point to it." He stared at the fire.  "Yet, as we've approached this area, the memories have gotten stronger and stronger.  Some happy memories," he admitted, "between me and my brother.  But many sad ones.  Rather... angry ones."  He lowered his eyes shamefully.

Blair's hand settled on Jim's stomach, beneath the skins.  "Jim?  All those bad memories -- they're poison hidden inside of you.  You have to let the poison out.  Now that you're aware of it, you need to talk about it.  Because talking about it makes it real, and then when it's real and acknowledged you can put the memory away again.  Only, it won't be so painful anymore.  The poison will be gone from it."

Jim glanced at Blair.  "What is that?  Modern psychiatry?"

"Yes, Jim, it is," Blair said earnestly.  "But more importantly, when you tell me about your memories, then that part of you will no longer be hidden from me."

Jim closed his eyes.  "Sometimes," he admitted gruffly, "I wonder if I've made some of the memories up.  Maybe they weren't really that bad."

"There's a reason why you remember them being that bad, Jim."  Blair put his hand on Jim's back.  Gently, he said, "Let's lie down together.  Only, tonight, you lie with your head on my shoulder.  And tell me what you've been remembering."  Blair began to shift.

Jim felt his stomach churn as he moved to obey.

Jim didn't know when he'd fallen asleep.  He just remembered staring at the stars, his head on Blair's chest, while inside his own mind he lived out things he remembered from the past.  Blair's hand would often pat or stroke his head, or rub and squeeze his shoulder.  Occasionally, when relaying a particularly bad memory, Blair kissed his forehead and murmured reassurances.

Eventually, they had fallen asleep.

The next day, Jim dutifully recounted further memories as they traveled -- the friend who had lived up the lane here, the neighbor's house that had burned down there.  Jim's throat was raw when he finally pulled up his mare at the road that led up a hill.

"This is the road to my father's house," he said.  He felt uneasy, but not nearly as much as he would have had he kept all this hidden from Blair.  "It's a couple of miles farther."

Blair looked down at him from atop Giant.  "Are you sure you don't want to go up there? Even just for a quick peek?"

"No," Jim said with certainty.  He reached up to pat Blair's leg.  "My life is here.  In the now.  With you."

Blair smiled.

They continued on their journey.  Later, they stopped for an early camp and slept soundly until morning.

Three days later, Jim guided his mare off the main road and led the way to a rocky area.  The sun was high and the wind occasionally brisk.  When they got close enough, they could see a pool of water inside the perimeter of boulders.

"Bath time," Jim announced, dismounting.

Blair gracefully dropped from Giant's back.  "I don't know, Jim.  I bet that water's really cold."

Jim grinned at Blair.  He was so predictable.  "That's no excuse this time," he said, loosening his mare's girth.  "These waters are hot springs.  They'll feel warm."

"Really?" Blair asked, looking from the water to Jim.

Jim stepped in front of Blair, his grin broadening with anticipation.  "Really."  He kissed Blair.  "Besides," he said in an intriguing whisper, "don't I usually make baths worth your trouble?"  He ran his tongue along the oval of Blair's lips, simulating what he liked to do to Blair's other end.

Blair laughed wickedly and reached to pull off his shirt.  "Good point."

Standing on a tree-filled mountaintop, Simon Banks snaked his left hand down to the front of his dirty grey trousers.  His right hand continued to hold the binoculars steady.

These high-tech binoculars were the best he'd ever come across.  He'd lifted them from a dead mercenary in the Timus region.  They were great at spotting game, potential enemies, or destinations in the distance.

At this moment, they were providing the greatest enjoyment Simon could have ever imagined coming across in the wilderness.

A well-bred man and his slave were resting on the rocks nearly a mile away, apparently after a dip in the hot springs.  

Only... they weren't really resting.  Oh, no, sir.  They were involved in the usual activity that one would expect from a man and his slave.  Only... this was extremely unusual in who was doing what to whom.
  
The slave was facedown on a blanket stretched over a large boulder.  His face was turned away, but Simon could see the masculine shape of his upper body beneath the long hair.   His legs were spread to give his master access.

Only... it wasn't the kind of "access" Simon would have expected.  It wasn't the master's cock that was buried between the slave's ass cheeks, but his tongue.

Well, I'll be.  Simon fondled himself some more.  Deftly, his other hand moved a little wheel on top of the binoculars, and they zeroed in on the buttocks.

Man.  

Simon had never seen an ass lick like this.  The master wasn't preparing the slave for entry.  Instead, he was leisurely darting his tongue around his opening... like he was enjoying it.  For its own sake.  The strokes of his tongue were long and leisurely.  Those strokes would occasionally dart into the crevice, and he'd bury his face closer, while spreading the ass cheeks farther apart.

Holy Bree, Simon swore to himself.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this titillated.  He squeezed himself soothingly, not wanting to finish too quickly. Oh, to be that ass -- or that tongue.  He couldn't figure out which he'd rather be.  After many lonely nights in the wilderness, any stimulation was a blessing.

The master reached for something, and then rubbed his fingers together.  Ah, oil.  He cared for his slave's well-being.  His fingers disappeared between the well-defined mounds.  With his excellent binoculars, Simon could see the fingers move as the master attempted to stretch the entrance.

Those hips raised and undulated backwards.

Holy Bree! Simon silently exclaimed, barely able to soothe his eager erection with his hand.  That was an incredibly well-trained slave.  Moving back on the fingers like that... like he wanted it.  When he'd owned a slave, Simon had never gotten her to pretend that she wanted it.  Even when he realized how strong his feelings had become for her, he couldn't pretend that she was behaving as though she was eager for him.  It was probably just as well that he'd lost her in a poker match.  Getting too attached to one's slave was never healthy.

The hips were undulating non-stop on the fingers now, and the master apparently couldn't resist.  He bent down and bit into a buttock.  The slave threw his head back.

Oh, yeah.  Such a well-trained slave, to take that biting without restraints.  But then, the master looked pretty muscular.  He could probably get pretty rough if he needed to and the slave knew it was in his best interest to obey.

Talking now.  The master was talking, his fingers still inside.  He hopped off the rock, and encouraged the slave to turn to face him, on his side.  The master bent and took the slave's cock in his mouth.

Holy shit, Simon swore again.  He felt himself sweating.  The master had it bad.  He shouldn't have let himself fall in love like this.   

Simon's desire had receded somewhat, thanks to his sympathy for the master, and he let his binoculars travel the length of the slave's body.  His desire receded further.  He didn't prefer men in the first place, but this particular slave's face, while typical of stock from Tava, had something about it that Simon found particularly unappealing.  Almost a too-intelligent look.  He'd thought that had been bred out of the Tava slaves.  Still, as long as he closed his eyes, he wouldn't have any problem enjoying what that mouth could do.

At the moment, that mouth was open and the slave's expression was one of utter lust.  Simon let his binoculars travel back down to the center of activity.  The master was doing something -- pressing against the upper part of the slave's balls while still keeping his fingers inside of him.  And sucking his cock.

Only... it appeared to be over now.  The master released the limp phallus and then kissed all about the slave's genitals.  Then kissed his upper thighs.

The slave was smiling broadly as he plopped down off the rock, his legs unsteady.  They both spread the blanket out on the ground, the master's erection protruding in a way that made Simon wince in sympathy.

As soon as the blanket was laid out, the slave got down on all fours, his ass to the master's cock.  The master's fingers went right back inside him and the slave spread his legs farther.  The slave glanced back and said something, laughing.

Oh, yeah.  Simon felt a renewal of his arousal as the master stroked his cock in preparation to get what he had coming to him.  You've worked hard for this one, buddy.  Enjoy that ass.

The master laid his left hand on the slave's left buttock and squeezed a few times, obviously enjoying the feel. With his right hand, he guided his erection between those pale cheeks.  And then he was carefully pressing....

Simon squeezed his cockhead.  His arm was getting tired from holding the binoculars, but he didn't want to miss the master's enjoyment.  Now that he was inserted, the master reached up and gently stroked the slave's hair.

Damn.  Simon felt his erection wilt.  There was something about showing affection for one's slave -- especially when you were in the middle of fucking them -- that made him uneasy.  Granted, he knew from experience that sometimes a man's heart got involved.  But there was something downright immoral about purchasing a slave, knowing that you were going to use him up and then toss him or her away to a less kind life, and pretending you were being "nice" to them.

He lowered his binoculars and adjusted his pants.  At least he knew he could get a good blow job tonight. For that matter, he had enough of the Empress's currency that he could probably convince the master to allow him a fuck.  As long as he didn't have to look at that slave's ugly, intelligent face, he thought he could enjoy fucking him.

He went to his horse, which was grazing under a tree, and started down the mountain.

As Jim started to dress, he relished the sated feeling in his loins.  He was still enjoying Blair's flavors within his mouth.  Such a pleasure... pleasuring Blair.

As he pulled on his trousers, he smiled and looked over his shoulder.  Blair was taking advantage of the springs once again to clean up.  It was rare that they had the facilities to really take their time with each other.  This session of lovemaking had been their most perfect in some time.  

Jim straightened abruptly, shirt in hand, when he heard a noise. It was the sound of horseshoes against dirt.

His smile faded as he looked toward Blair again.  "Sandburg, get dressed."

Blair was near the edge of the pool.  He looked up at Jim as he rubbed the water droplets from his face.  "What's wrong?"

"Somebody's coming."  Jim pulled his shirt over his head

Blair was out of the water and rapidly drying off.  "What do you hear specifically?"

Jim had his ears tuned to the sound.  "A horse. Just one, but..." he trailed off.  "We should see him any moment." He held out his arm protectively and moved closer to Blair.  "Stay behind me."

Blair had just pulled on his clothing when a chestnut horse with a white blaze, loaded down with supplies, appeared.  On his back was a middle-aged black man, like those who came from the Seltz region to the southeast of Klazam.   He had a round, felt hat atop his head, and Jim could smell the dirt and dust on his person.  His clothes were worn.  He had an alert manner, and there was something about the way he carried himself that spoke of sophistication and a take-charge attitude. He was not someone Jim would want to underestimate.

The man held up a hand and smiled.  "Hi, there," he greeted in a deep voice.  His eyes were on Jim.  "I would like to buy your slave's services for an hour tonight.  I can pay you well."

While Jim's mind raced through all historical data he had on the man's bizarre statement, Blair jumped out from behind him.  "SLAVE?" he demanded angrily.

Jim stepped sideways to get Blair back under the protection of his arm.  "Get back."

"I'm not a slave!" Blair yelled at the man.  "What gave you that idea?"

The man seemed genuinely puzzled, and his eyes flicked back to Jim.  "He's not a slave?"

Jim shook his head.  "No."  He gave up trying to keep Blair behind him.

The man's face fell, and he shifted in his saddle, looking thoughtful.  "But he looks like he's from Tava."

So, the stories I've heard are true, Jim thought.  Another part of his mind was studying their visitor's features.

"I've never heard of Tava," Blair huffed, stepping in front of Jim, his fists clenched.  "I'm from the Northern Territory."

Now the man chuckled -- a deep, resonant sound.  "Could be the same thing.  It's my understanding that escaped slaves from Tava settled the Northern Territory years ago."

"You bastard!" Blair shouted.

Jim reached to grab Blair's arm.  "Chief," he said firmly, and was grateful when Blair relaxed slightly.  To the man, he asked, "Who are you?"  He already had his suspicions.

"Simon Banks."  The man looked at Blair, then back at Jim.  "I'm sorry I've offended your young friend."

"His name is Blair Sandburg," Jim said pointedly.  

Carefully, Simon dismounted his horse.  He slowly stepped toward Blair.  "I meant no offense.  It's just that I've traveled many places and seen many things.  You do look like the people of Tava.  Everyone there is either a slave or a slave-trader."

Jim was trying to figure out a myriad of logistics at once.  He said, "Slavery is forbidden in the Empire."

Simon looked at him, chuckling.  "If you're that naïve, I fear for you, my friend.  Slavery may be illegal, but it's practiced behind closed doors all over the Empire -- including within the Empress's chambers."

Blair gave a start.  Jim was just as surprised.  "How do you know?"

Simon eyed them both and carefully said, "As I said, I have seen many things.  The Empress makes a show of freeing slaves and giving them employment within her castle.  Yet, some of them end up in the beds of her higher-ranking officials.  Some even end up in her bed.  Interesting that none ever leave the job, though they're supposedly 'free'."

Jim swallowed.  No, he shouldn't have been so naïve.  If there was one thing that could be counted on where human beings were concerned, it was hypocrisy.  

Simon held out his hand to Blair.  "My apologies for the offense I have caused."

Blair still looked angry, but he was studying the man, and Jim wondered if he was reaching the same conclusion that he had himself.

Blair was obviously reluctant, but he shook Simon's hand.

Simon didn't push it.  He said, "Since I'm here, I was wondering if I could purchase some grain from you.  I've been riding my horse long and hard for many days now, and he's looking gaunt."

Keeping a wary eye on their visitor, Jim moved to a canister which he'd set out to feed their own livestock, once they'd completed their activities. "Here's some grain.  Tend to your horse.  If you feed ours as well, no payment is necessary.   I need to speak to Blair alone a moment."

"Thank you," Simon said, accepting the grain.

Keeping an eye on the black man, Jim took Blair's arm.  "Chief."  Blair followed readily.

Once Jim was certain Simon couldn't hear them, he asked Blair, "Does he look familiar to you?"

Blair brightened. "So, it's not just my imagination?  He's our mark, isn't he?"

"It's hard to tell without the facial hair," Jim admitted, "but he's the right height, age, weight, skin color, and build.  We were told he goes by so many different names that it doesn't matter what he calls himself."

"So, what do we do?" Blair asked.

Another part of Jim's mind had already been working on that.  "If he is an agent for the Empress, he probably won't reveal that to us."

"Yeah, he seems to be careful about what he tells us," Blair noted.

"Our assignment," Jim reminded him, "is to find out if he's truly loyal to the Empire.  I think our best way to do that is to reveal our own status as agents, and then we need to find a reason to travel with him.  As a fellow agent, I think he would feel a brotherhood with us.  But we won't need to tell him our assignment; he would understand the confidentiality of that."

Blair asked, "But what if he doesn't tell us that he's an agent, even if we tell him that we are?"

"He probably won't," Jim reasoned.  "At least, not until he trusts us.  That's okay.  I have an idea."

He discussed his plan with Blair.  After some fine-tuning, they both went back to where Simon Banks was now holding the grain canister in front of Giant.  He looked over his shoulder at Jim.  "He's an impressive mount."

"He's my horse," Blair said tersely.

Jim restrained a sigh.  Simon was a man he could respect, and he was sorry that Simon and Blair were getting off to such a bad start.

"Oh," Simon said simply.  To Giant he said, "Sorry, but that's all for now, big fella."  He stroked Giant's face and turned to put the empty canister aside.

Jim crossed his arms, but tried to appear casual.  "Where are you headed, if you don't mind me asking?"

Simon's expression grew wary.  "I'm heading back to the region near Tava, as a matter of fact.  My destination is Calliso, specifically.  It's about 60 miles from Tava."  His voice hardened.  "My reasons are my business only."

Jim nodded congenially.  "Fair enough.  Blair and I are headed that way, also.  You're welcome to travel with us, if you'd like."

Simon eyed him suspiciously.  "Why are you headed there, if you didn't even know that Tava exists?"

Jim exchanged a glance with Blair.  Simon was indeed cunning, like an experienced agent should be.  He replied, "Our business is private also.  But we can tell you that we are acting as agents for the Empress."  He watched Simon's eyebrows dart up.  "This is our first assignment, and we only know that our destination is Matta," Jim pulled the name from memory, thankful for his knack for geography, "which is near Calliso."

Simon stepped closer to them as his eyes narrowed.  "You're agents for the Empress?"

"Yes," Jim and Blair replied as one.

Simon straightened and put his hands on his hips.  "Prove it."

"We have documents," Jim said as he took a step toward their horses.

"The brand," Simon said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"How do you know about the brand?" Blair asked.

One corner of Simon's mouth quirked.  "I have been to many places and seen many things."

"All right," Jim relented.  He dropped to the ground and began removing his right boot, gratified that Blair did the same.

"What are you doing?" Simon asked.  "You don't have to remove your shoes in order to drop your pants."

As he pulled his shoe off and worked with the sock, Jim said, "Our brands are not in the traditional location."

Simon's brow furrowed.  "Since when did they change the location?"

"They haven't," Jim said.  Showing submission so Simon wouldn't suspect a trick, he placed his hands behind him and leaned back on them.  "Take a look.  It's on the inside of the large toe.  We insisted on a different location and they agreed."

Simon slowly knelt on the ground.  Incredulously, he grumbled, "I can't imagine them changing the location just because you asked them to."

"Sometimes asking is all that is required in a negotiation," Jim said with some amusement as he watched Simon peer at his toe.  The dark-skinned man surely hadn't appreciated getting the crevice of his buttock branded.  "Take a good look.  Assure yourself that it's truly the Empress's brand."

Simon touched Jim's big toe and pulled it aside.  He spent a long moment inspecting it.  Then he moved to Blair, who had pulled his own toe aside, as though not agreeable to the idea of Simon touching him.

"Hmm.  They certainly look legitimate," Simon said, straightening.

"I can show you our IDs," Jim told him as he pulled on his sock.

Simon held up a hand.  "No, that won't be necessary."  He looked at Blair.  "Are you sure you wouldn't mind me traveling with you?"

Levelly, Blair replied, "As long as you understand that the only person I have sex with is Jim."

Jim felt a flush go through him.  He didn't know whether to be embarrassed or gratified at Blair's frankness.  He also felt discomfiture at the idea of Simon having watched them.  That was obviously why Simon had shown up expecting sex.

Blair continued, "And as long as you understand that we won't be shy about loving each other, just because you're with us."

Speak for yourself, Chief, Jim thought.  But he knew it was a losing battle.  All Blair had to do was want him, and he'd throw social propriety out the window. Besides, they would probably be traveling for weeks before reaching Calliso.  Simon was just going to have to deal with it.

Simon held up his hands, as though in surrender, "I understand, Sandburg.  I suppose that means you understand that I might not bed down near you. And I might have to ride out to visit a whorehouse now and then and meet up with you later."

Blair looked him up and down, as though getting back at Simon for thinking of him as a possession.  "Maybe you ought to try the next village over tonight.  You seemed to come here thinking you were going to get some, being willing to well-pay and all."  He still sounded angry.

Jim decided to put a stop to this.  "Let's get ready to get moving.  We still have a few hours before dark."

Silently, Blair and Simon obeyed.

When they were back on the road, most of the conversation took place between Jim and Simon.  Jim noticed that Blair had gotten quiet and had a haunted look on his face.  He didn't think it had to do with Simon's having wanted to have sex with him because he'd thought him a slave.  Blair had met that idea with righteous anger.  So, why the brooding now?

It wasn't until they were bedded down for the night that Jim confronted Blair. Sleep wouldn't come, because it wouldn't come for Blair.  Jim waited until he'd determined that Simon was deeply asleep on the other side of the fire, and then he whispered, "Blair?  What's on your mind?"  He gently tugged a few strands of hair.  As usual, Blair was spooned back against him.

Long silence.  Then a thick swallow.  "What if what Simon said is true?" Blair whispered.

"About what?"

"The Northern Territory being settled by slaves from Tava."

Oh.  Jim tried to be reasonable.  "I've heard the Northern Territory was settled by all kinds of people.  Didn't you learn stories of its heritage in school?"

"Yes," Blair admitted after a moment.  "But there was very little that was specific."  Another long silence.  Then, voice tight with anguish, "What if my father was a runaway slave?"

Oh.  Now Jim got it.  He should have realized before that Blair would put two and two together.  And be disturbed by the answer.  Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder.  "It doesn't change who you are.  If anything, if it were true, it would make your father a very heroic man, wouldn't you think?"

Blair fell into a contemplative silence.  "Yeah, I guess.  But now it feels like I have a brand on my forehead, announcing my heritage.  As we travel east, more and more people will think I'm a sex slave, just because I have 'the look'."

That hadn't occurred to Jim.  He squeezed the shoulder again.  "Then we'll have to set them straight.  It worked with Simon.  Anyone who actually meets you will see right away that you aren't a slave."  But Jim knew his words would only go so far.  He felt all the more protective of Blair, especially now that they were just a few days away from the Channel.  Once they crossed it, there was only a small portion of the Empire's territory on the eastern side.  Beyond the Empire was the Timus region, which was made up of various small governments that changed leadership often, due to local feuding.  Law had little meaning.  

Jim shifted so that he was pressed closer to Blair.  "Blair, no matter what others see -- or think they see -- it's the man you are inside that counts.  You have to hold on to that.  If you ever need reminding of who you are, just let me know."  He kissed Blair's neck.

He saw an effort at a smile.

Blair released a deep breath, then settled more comfortably.  Still, Jim knew that Blair's mind was unlikely to quiet as the night wore on.  He snaked his hand down to grip Blair's limpness.  "How about if I help put you to sleep?"  He squeezed and his sense of touch detected the filling of capillaries.

Blair murmured, "Mmm."

Jim stroked more firmly.

This day was a hot one for mid-autumn as they traveled along the lone dusty road that led them farther southeast.   

Blair sat atop Giant with his feet out of the stirrups to rest them.  Giant continued his long, leisurely stride that kept him a little in front of Jim and Simon.  Simon's horse was weak and slow, and Jim had to work at holding his mare back to keep pace with him.

Jim and Simon were hitting it off.  Though he could rationalize the value of that rapport to their mission, Blair couldn't help but feel left out.  The two older men spoke back and forth about various places they had been.  Simon had even fought in the Empress's army for a short time, though he didn't volunteer why he'd left or how he'd made a living since then.

Blair had always thought himself a man of worldly knowledge.  But he was finding out that intellectual knowledge didn't carry very far when compared to genuine life experiences of having been to remote places and mingled in other cultures.  He started to wonder if, despite his tendency to talk a lot, Jim found him to be a rather boring companion.  And now Simon Banks had come along to liven things up, and provide a connection to past experiences that Jim could relate to better than to Blair's book-learned knowledge.

Still, Blair continued to rationalize why it was for the best that Simon and Jim got along so well.  In fact, to prove -- if only to himself -- that he wasn't sulking, he would occasionally glance back at them and insert some comment of his own.  Thankfully, they didn't seem to mind the interruption.

Blair still couldn't quite shake the feeling of vulnerability when around Simon.  It was rather apparent that when he and Jim had shared such a blissful time at the hot springs, Simon had seen them.  That felt like an invasion of privacy that Blair found difficult to forgive.  And the idea that Simon had anticipated having sex with him when he first arrived at their camp... that still made Blair angry.  Even though Simon hadn't given him any lingering looks since, he couldn't help but think that Simon was undressing him every time he looked at him.

To combat that uncomfortable feeling, Blair had responded with rebellion.  Most nights, he had flaunted his nudity as much as possible without getting chilled, making sure Simon was aware of the "goods" that only Jim was going to get to enjoy.  When he loved Jim within the confines of their pelts, he made loud "mmm" noises to make sure Simon was fully aware that Blair was not only pleasing Jim out of his own choosing, but that he was enjoying the hell out of it.  The other night, Jim had been in the mood for something more intense, and Simon had stepped off into the woods when their motions beneath the pelts became dramatic.  Blair made sure his voice carried when he cried out, "Fuck me, Jim.  Yes, fuck me."   Then when Simon returned after things calmed down, Blair made a big show of kissing Jim passionately to demonstrate how much he'd enjoyed being pounded by his big cock. Blair had felt great satisfaction when he heard Simon swear, "Shit."

I hope your dick falls off from frustration, Blair had thought as he settled down into blissful sleep.

But the next morning he'd felt rather embarrassed at the deliberateness of his actions, and was thankful that Jim's gift made him so enslaved to the pleasure Blair was giving that he apparently hadn't been aware of what Blair was doing.  Simon was surely aware of Blair's intent, but didn't appear to hold it against him -- probably because he still felt bad for mistaking Blair for a slave.

Now, Blair looked off toward the horizon and the late afternoon sun as Jim and Simon continued to converse behind him.  There was the beginning of a beautiful sunset and it made him think of Bree.  He felt regret that he'd taken little time for consideration of Bree in recent weeks.  He thought it would be beneficial to remedy that.  He just wasn't sure when would be a good time for a quiet meditation.

"Sandburg," Simon called, "wait up."

Blair turned Giant to face Jim and Simon while bringing him to a halt.

Jim unfolded a map

Blair nudged Giant closer to Jim so he could see the map.

They spent a long time talking about their options.  Simon said, "I have to spend a couple of days in Landly for some personal business.  If you want to meet me at Port Orchard two days from now, we can take a ship across the Channel to Baft."  

Baft was the port in the most eastern section of the Empire before they would reach the small localities beyond it, and eventually Matta.  

Simon looked toward the horizon.  "The ocean is just a few hours away if you stay east.  You'll reach Port Orchard if you travel south along the shore for a day."

Blair had never seen the ocean.  He sniffed the air, certain he could detect a hint of salt.

"Okay, that sounds good," Jim said, looking at Blair for confirmation as he refolded the map.

Blair nodded, feeling a renewed excitement about their travels -- and looking forward to having Jim to himself for a while.

Simon tipped his hat to them.  "I look forward to seeing you both in a couple of days."

Jim and Blair both nodded at him.

Simon turned his horse in the direction of Landly and cantered away.

"I hope he gets laid while he's there," Blair muttered.

Jim looked at him. "Has he made any advances toward you?" he asked levelly.

"If he had," Blair said, "you'd know about it."  He was rarely out of Jim's sight.  "Just hard to forgive him for thinking I was a slave."

Jim grimaced.  "It's not his fault, Chief.  He's used to passing through places where slavery is accepted.  He even owned a slave."

Blair could hardly bear to think about that.  "And that makes it okay?" he asked indignantly as they continued riding east.

"Slavery, no," Jim reasoned.  "But you can't expect a person who has lived around it to find fault with it if he's going to survive in that kind of culture. Passing judgment isn't going to allow him to do his job."

Blair snorted, eager to change the subject.  "Too bad we didn't have a reason to accompany him to Landly.  What do you think his 'personal business' is?"

Jim shrugged.  "Hard to say.  It may be truly personal.  But even if it has something to do with his being an agent, there's nothing we can do about it. We'll have to be patient and hope that when we get near Calliso, he will have told us more about himself by then.  Maybe we can pretend to go on our own way, but really circle back and spy on him to figure out what he's up to."

Blair bristled at the idea of spying, even though he realized he should expect it on this sort of job.  He was eager to change the subject once again. "You ever been to the ocean?"

"Yeah, a few times.  I even crossed the Channel once for a specific assignment.  I didn't have to go too far beyond the Empire's borders though."

Intrigued, Blair looked over at him.  "Can you smell it from here?  The ocean?"

"Yeah," Jim replied without pause.  "I've been smelling it all day.  You've never seen it?"

Blair shook his head.

"The ports are busy," Jim informed him.  "According to the map, this road curves south toward Port Orchard within a mile of the ocean.  If we stay due east, instead of following the road, we'll hit the ocean itself.  Maybe it won't be so crowded there and we can enjoy the beach for a while." More decisively, Jim said, "Maybe we can spend the night there."

Blair smiled at him appreciatively.  "It's worth spending some time on the beach?"  

Jim seemed to consider that, then he nodded.  "It's a pretty magnificent sight.  All that water, for as far as the eye can see."

It was all Blair could do to keep his heels from kicking Giant's sides.  "Can we hurry a little, so we can get there before the sun goes down?"

"Sure," Jim said after a minute.  "We can gallop for a little while.  My mare is worn out, but the horses will get a good rest tonight since we have time before we have to get to Port Orchard and meet up with Simon."

Blair kicked and clucked at Giant until the horse broke into a lazy canter.  He kicked some more until it was a full-fledged gallop.

Blair could hear the waves and smell the sea before he could see it.  Giant, who never seemed to tire, was still galloping along.   Though they were off the main road, his stride was steady and smooth. They had left Jim and the mule over a quarter mile behind, but Blair knew Jim wouldn't mind.  He seemed to understand Blair's excitement.  

Giant crested the hill he was climbing, and there it was.  Water as far as the eye could see.  White, sandy beach stretched out between Blair and the ocean.

Blair's eyes filled as he drew Giant to a halt.  The majesty of it was overwhelming.  The sound of the crashing waves.  The white foam as the waves rushed up the beach.  The smoothness of the sand the water left as it receded.  The sheer vastness that seemed to have no ending or beginning.

He couldn't move his eyes from it, and was only vaguely aware of Jim halting beside him some time later.

"Quite an awesome sight, isn't it?" Even Jim's voice held reverence.

Finally, Blair tore his gaze away from the water to look at Jim.  "It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen."

Jim looked over at him, and Blair held his gaze, having no desire to hide how it moved him.

Jim smiled and swallowed.

"Bree's presence is so strong here," Blair noted.  "Can you feel it?"  He studied Jim hopefully, though he had no reason to think Jim had suddenly become spiritual.  "It's different from Sanctuary, but no less powerful."

Jim looked back out at the vista before them.  "I see water.  Waves.  Clouds.  The beach.  If that's Bree's doing, then so be it."

Blair tried not to feel deflated.  In fact, that was quite a concession on Jim's part.

Jim nudged Red forward.  He was now leading the mule, since they were near civilization.  "Come on, let's move closer and walk along the shore. The water won't hurt the horses."

Blair's awe increased as he felt Giant's hooves sink into the sand.  Staring at the water as it lapped back and forth with the motion of the waves, he felt himself becoming dizzy -- in the most wonderful way.

Finally, the hooves of their mounts were in the water, and they turned south.  Up in the distance, Blair could see a village as dusk settled around them.

Jim said, "We can unload our immediate supplies here.  Then we can ride the horses to the village and let them spend the night in the livery stable.  We won't need to leave until tomorrow afternoon, so they'll get a good rest.  Then we can walk back here."

Blair nodded, still amazed at how looking down at the water made him dizzy with the impression that he wasn't riding on solid ground.  "They'll get another rest on the ship when we cross the Channel.  How long will that take?"

"A few hours," Jim said, "but it can actually be hard on the horses.  The motion of the sea can make them colicky.  We'll have to have a vet give them oil to keep their digestion healthy for the trip."  He pointed to a group of boulders a little ways in the distance.  "That's where we can put our supplies."

Blair nodded.  The formation of the rocks seemed to create a small natural cave where they could store their stuff with little concern about others finding it.

It was dark when the horses and mule were bedded down in the livery.  Jim and Blair started walking back.  When they were away from the village and had only the sand before them, Jim said, "Pull off your boots and feel the sand between your toes."  He had paused to do just that.

Blair did the same.  He felt weariness in his body from the day's travel and from the excitement of the beach, but the enthusiasm was still with him. Mimicking Jim, he rolled up his pants legs, and felt curiosity as they resumed walking, the cold water lapping at their bare feet.

Blair let fly a delighted laugh.  The evenings were warmer here than up north, and as he gazed at the star-filled sky, broken by occasional clouds, he felt that he had to be the happiest, and the luckiest, man on the planet.   He was walking along the shores of the most magical place Bree had ever created, side-by-side with the love of his heart.  No cares or concerns.  Just knowing that in a few days they would travel across the Channel, where further discoveries and adventures awaited them.

He placed both boots in one hand.  With the other, he wrapped his arm around Jim's waist and leaned against him.  "I love you so much, Jim."

Jim also moved both boots to one hand and put his other arm around Blair.  Peacefully, he said, "It's nice to be here like this, with no commanders to report to or specific orders to obey."

"I'll remember this night always, Jim."

Jim planted a kiss on Blair's head.  "So will I."

Despite the beauty surrounding them, Blair found that it wasn't long before all he could think of was putting one foot in front of the other.  Walking along the beach was exhausting, and his legs weren't used to so much activity on foot.

Finally, they reached the supplies they had hidden.  They stripped down and sat back against the rocks, covered by their bearskins, but leaving their upper bodies to receive the sea breeze. It was cool, but Blair wasn't ready to cover up yet.  He and Jim sat watching the water in silence.

After a time, Jim said, "I know this seems blissful right now, Chief, but once we cross the Channel, it'll be a different story.  Even though Baft is owned by the Empire, it's full of people from all sorts of places and there's little enforcement of the law.  We'll have to be extra vigilant and careful.  I want you to stay close to me at all times.  We'll have to carefully hide our identities as agents.  It'll give us greater freedom to see and hear things if people think we're just travelers passing through."

Blair hated to think of the disruption of their contentment, but he also knew he wasn't the kind of man who could stay in a place of complete peace for very long.  He yearned to see the world.  Because of Jim, he could.

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Tomorrow morning, I'd like to spend some time in meditation and reconnect with Bree."

Jim's arm came around Blair and squeezed.  "All right.  I'll just sleep in then."

Blair laughed softly.  "I feel that, since we're alone again, we should take advantage of it.  But the urge isn't there."

Jim kissed the corner of his mouth, and Blair turned so that they could kiss fully.  When they parted, Jim encouraged Blair to follow him into a reclining position. "Sleep then."

Blair did.

Jim's intent to sleep in didn't pan out.  He was aware of Blair having left the cocoon of their furs at sunrise, probably to relieve himself.  A short time later, he was awakened by Blair's cries of joy.  Jim rose up to find his love running along the beach like a child, fully nude, collecting the seashells that had been left upon the sand by low tide.

Jim slipped on his clothes, then picked up Blair's and walked towards him.  He could well remember his own inclination to collect shells when he'd first seen a beach in the morning light.  It was as though one had to own them in order to insure that they would never disappear.

"Blair," he said firmly enough to get his companion's attention.  He held out his clothes to him.  

Blair carefully placed his armful of shells on the ground and accepted the clothing.  "Look at those," he said as he rapidly dressed.  "They're so incredible!"

Jim said, "We can't take them with us.  They'll still be here, Chief, to enjoy in all the years ahead whenever we return."

Blair wasn't dissuaded.  Now dressed, he bent down and picked up a handful.  He held up a particularly smooth shell to Jim.  "Isn't it neat to think that sea animals used to have these for their homes?"

"It's... beautiful, Blair," Jim finally settled on that word.  "But we can't take this stuff with us."

Blair's cheeks billowed with a sigh, and he finally straightened and looked at Jim.  "I suppose you're right.  Maybe I'll just take one or two that I like the most."

"That's a good idea," Jim said, relieved that they didn't have to argue about it.

Blair picked up a couple and he now looked his age.  "I'm going to sit in meditation for a couple of hours."

Jim nodded.  He was tempted to say he was going back to sleep, but he'd never been a man who was able to return to bed once he was up.

While Blair sat very still a hundred yards away, facing the beach, Jim ate a breakfast of dry cereal grains.  He kept being drawn to the pile of seashells. A little farther up the beach, his eyes focused in on a reed left behind by the waves.

An idea formed.

He was finished by the time Blair came walking toward him, an expression of confidence and serenity on his face.

Jim held up the necklace of seashells he'd created.  "Here, Chief.  For you."

Blair's face broke into a huge smile.  "Oh, man!" he exclaimed as he took it.  He held it up and studied it.  "This is incredible!  You just now made this?"

"Uh-huh."  Jim felt enormously pleased with himself for having created something tangible that made Blair happy.

Blair held it out.  "Tie it on me, please?"  

Jim accepted it while Blair turned around and held his hair away from his neck.

Jim tied the strands into a snug knot.  "Now you can take a piece of the ocean with you," he said as Blair turned back around.

Blair's eyes beamed at him.  "I don't want to ever remove it."

Jim planted a kiss on Blair's lips.  He hoped Blair never would.

They spent most of the morning being lazy.  Jim was intrigued by how Blair's eyes kept returning to the water, as though he couldn't get over the wonder of its vastness.  He was starting to question if he himself was missing some quality that wouldn't give proper appreciation for the world around him.

After lunch, they went through their supplies and agreed that what they didn't need in the immediate future, they could leave for others to scavenge.  Jim decided to sell the mule in Port Orchard.  They needed to be able to move quickly and freely once outside the Empire.

It was mid-afternoon before they began the tiring walk back to the village.  Since it was so late, they decided to get a room when they arrived and get an early start to Port Orchard in the morning.

Refreshed from their day's respite from traveling on horseback, they made love eagerly in the confines of their small, simple lodgings.   Blair's seashells hung from his neck as he pleasured Jim from atop.

For most of the journey to Port Orchard, they could enjoy the ocean to their left.  They arrived in mid-afternoon at a city bustling with activity and full of stout ships in its harbors.  As previously arranged with Simon, they took a table at a tavern near the docks to await their mark's return.

Blair watched with concern as Jim's face developed more and more creases as he tried to tune out the assault of noise, for the tavern got busier with the setting of the sun.  He considered why Simon had never asked about Jim's ability to notice things in the distance, or catch game with little effort. But Blair suspected that Simon knew something was "different" about Jim; he probably just hadn't been able to lay his finger on what it was exactly.

"There he is," Jim said, straightening.

Blair looked back over his shoulder toward the door.  A familiar tall, black man stood at the entrance, eyes searching the tavern.

Jim whistled and waved.

Simon joined them a moment later.  "I see you two made it here in one piece."

Jim grimaced.  "Made it here, but staying here is a different matter."

"Have you eaten yet?" Simon asked.  "There's a nice diner a few doors down.  It's expensive, but it's worth it."

"Sounds good," Blair said, sympathizing with the assault on Jim's ears.

They left money on the table for their drinks and followed Simon to a much quieter establishment down the lane.  Simon looked a little out of place because he was still dusty and dirty from his side trip.

"Did you accomplish what you needed to?" Jim asked nonchalantly.

"Yep.  And now I'm ready to set sail for Baft first thing in the morning.   They have a ship leaving at regular intervals every day.  I suggest we take the first one out."

"That sounds good," Jim said, looking at Blair.

"Sounds good to me, too," Blair replied, wondering what traveling on a ship would be like.

The three of them indulged in the baths provided by the upscale hotel they stayed in that night.  Then they retired to their rooms, Simon taking the one across the hall from Jim and Blair.

As soon as they were locked inside, Jim and Blair quickly undressed each other.  Blair pushed Jim back on the bed, then reached to turn off the lamp beside it. "Spread your legs," he gently ordered in the darkness, nudging Jim's legs apart.  

Always before, after a bath, Jim pleasured Blair with special favors as a reward for putting himself through the unpleasant experience of bathing in usually-cold water. Now, after a warm bath, Blair wanted to do the favoring.

As Blair settled on his stomach between Jim's legs, Jim reached out so that his hand nestled in Blair's hair.

"Don't touch me," Blair whispered.  He wanted to be the one to do all the touching.  "You aren't allowed to touch me at all."  Then he got an idea and softly said, "You can touch yourself, if you want."

Jim made a low growl in his throat, and Blair watched the shadow of his hand drop to his cock and give it a few tugs.

"But you aren't allowed to come," Blair decided.  Then amended, even more softly, "Not until I say so."

Blair shifted so he was a little closer to his target, then pressed his face against Jim's clean, masculine-smelling private area.  He inhaled, then exhaled slowly, imaging how Jim's ultra-sensitive sense of touch would react to the air from his mouth.

Jim gasped.

Blair grinned, then wet his mouth thoroughly.  He dipped his head and stuck out his tongue, not sure of his bearings until he tasted the lightly furred oval of a testicle. He lapped it wetly, using the wide portion of his tongue.

Jim moaned and quivered, his hand squeezing around his cock.

Blair brought his hands up and parted Jim's muscular buttocks with his thumbs.  Jim bent his legs, and Blair shifted closer and pressed his mouth against the cleavage, exhaling strongly.

Another gasp.

You are so much fun, Jim.

Blair re-wet his mouth while shifting again, then he stuck out his tongue.  He allowed it to follow the dip of the crevice it encountered, until it fell into the narrow and lightly furred depression.  He licked, feeling the wrinkled texture, and allowed his mouth to drool.

"Yes," came the soft exclamation above him.

Jim's legs spread farther.

While keeping the action of his tongue steady, Blair reached up, encountered Jim's hand, and gently slapped at it until it stopped stroking.  He brushed against the hard shaft and didn't want Jim to come too soon.  His fingers stretched until he found wiry hairs, and he scratched across them.

A crooning sound filled the darkness.

Blair stopped licking for a moment, and then danced his tongue around the wrinkled skin.

Jim made a soft, strangled cry, exhaling deeply.  Blair's other hand felt goosebumps break out along Jim's skin.

Blair kept scratching the pubic hairs, then brought his other hand up and pressed against Jim's scrotum, bringing the balls up so his hand could also encompass part of Jim's hard cock.

Then he licked some more.

"Please, baby," Jim whispered after a moment.

Blair stopped and gave the stout erection a good stroke, not wanting to torment his love any longer.  He shifted up to his knees and bent over it.  Then he enclosed it in his mouth.

Moments later Jim was crying out from deep in his chest, and his phallus was fountaining into Blair's throat.

And then Jim was whimpering.

Blair was aware of his own hardness as he shifted to one side.  "Over, love."  He let his hand trail along Jim's buttock as he obeyed, rolling onto his stomach.

Blair reached for the vial of oil he'd left at the end of the bed.  As he opened it, he was glad to see Jim shove some pillows under his own hips.  At that moment, he wished he had have left the lamp on.  Jim had the most perfectly-shaped ass that Blair could ever imagine anyone having.

Blair felt for the wet crevice with one finger, then poured droplets of oil from the vial onto that particular spot.  He spent a moment rubbing it around the outside of the depression.  He paused, waiting for the exhalation that told of Jim's deliberately relaxing, and then he prodded at the opening.  While he teased it, his other hand rested on the nearest buttock and moved in a slow, soothing motion, his fingers occasionally squeezing.

The opening gave way and Blair pushed the first part of his finger in.  He wriggled it, able to be patient, despite his throbbing erection, only because he knew satisfaction would soon be at hand.  He and Jim were well-practiced at this.  They knew all the little movements that got Jim relaxed as quickly as possible.  In a few moments, Blair had his finger fully inserted, with Jim gripping it periodically, and then relaxing.  During each relaxation, Blair wriggled it around.  Eventually, he started pulling at the muscle, encouraging it to open.  When Jim started to undulate back onto the digit with relative ease, Blair introduced a second finger and repeated the motion from before. Eventually, he considered Jim ready and withdrew.

He sloppily poured more of the oil onto the head of his cock.  He smoothed it around, then squeezed himself soothingly.  He got into position, shaft resting against the bunched muscle, and he tenderly whispered, "Deep breath."

Blair listened to the slow, deep inhalation, and then the long drawn-out release.  He knew that, as Jim did this, he was mentally distancing himself from what was physically happening to him.  His sense of touch was so heightened that any pain felt would be exaggerated to an extreme degree because of his gift.  But due to the torture he'd experienced in his past, he was able to draw on his survival training and not acknowledge the pain he would otherwise feel.

Blair pushed, and the oil allowed the tight passage to give way.  He shoved in fully, his cock throbbing appreciatively, for he wanted this difficult part over as quickly as possible.  Gasping, he directed, "Come back now."

He undulated slowly -- brief, easy movements -- so Jim's body could adjust to his hardness as Jim's consciousness returned to full recognition of what his body was feeling.

Jim groaned.  It was a good sound.  Blair released a heavy breath of his own, then allowed himself to yield to his urges.  He began thrusting back and forth in earnest, enjoying the snug tightness that clung to him with each undulation.  

Damn, this wasn't going to last long.   

Blair pulled out farther and slammed in harder.  His testicles tightened as his seed prepared for release.  His lower back felt the wonderful tingle that told of his male organs in full operation.

And then physical bliss hit his groin and he was crying out, still undulating as the seed spurted from him.

He froze, absorbing the exquisite feeling of release for as long as it would last....

And then he was sinking... melting... a puddle of goo as he collapsed along Jim's back.  

His cock now throbbed with waning pleasure.

Blair rested there a while, enjoying the coolness left on his skin as his sweat evaporated; enjoying the stickiness between himself and Jim from the sweat unable to evaporate from where their bodies touched.

"Easy," he whispered, before he'd decided if he was ready to withdraw or not.  But his cock had shrunk, and it slipped out easily as he pulled back.

His limbs felt like they were in a sink hole as he maneuvered them around enough to collapse beside Jim.

Jim reached out and pulled Blair close, so that they were face-to-face.   Once he had Blair pressed against him, his large hand found Blair's butt and pulled him closer, then remained on his rump.  The other hand found its way to the back of Blair's head, pressing it even closer, Jim's fingers weaving into his hair.

Still too warm to get under the covers, Blair relaxed against Jim, feeling sated and cherished.

"Mine," Jim's warm breath brushed against his face.

Blair was already falling asleep.  "Yours," he assured as he drifted.

The trip across the Channel took place early the next morning and lasted until the afternoon.  The waves were choppy from the wind, but the sun was high.  Blair felt a renewed sense of awe when land was nowhere to be spotted, and their ship seemed like a tiny speck upon Bree's ocean; yet, somehow magically safe despite the water all around them.  

Simon was less impressed with the sea and spent a good part of the trip vomiting over the edge of the ship, and complaining that he'd never crossed the Channel before while fighting against such strong waves.  Jim looked uncomfortable throughout the trip, and when Blair expressed his worry, Jim muttered something about "open sea" and said his unease couldn't be put into words, but he would be fine once they were on land again.

Humans and livestock both were weary, but relieved, when they disembarked in the bustling port town of Baft. While he and his traveling companions quickly gathered strength as they walked, leading their horses through the town, Blair felt his own unease gathering within.  Whereas Port Orchard had been a busy town filled with the Empire's citizens going about their business, this port on the other side of the Channel had an atmosphere of distrust and paranoia that could be seen in the eyes of the citizens who passed them.  

Remembering Jim's warning a couple of evenings prior, Blair moved close to Jim so that their coats were brushing as they walked.  He did not want to be parted from his protector in this huge town full of people who didn't look like they could be charmed by the innocent face of a former University student.  More than likely, they'd just as soon slit his throat and take all his belongings as give him the time of day.

Finally, after an hour, they reached the edge of town and Blair felt he could breathe again.  Jim and Simon pulled out their maps, and Blair joined them as they discussed the path they would take east for a few days before turning north toward Calliso.  Matta was east of there, and the slave town of Tava even farther to the north.  All in all, they expected it would take them ten to twelve days to reach Calliso.  There, Simon would expect them to go on their way to Matta.  Blair hoped they could find out something useful about Simon before then -- something that would help them complete their mission.

As their discussion wound down, they heard a loud gastric noise from the direction of the horses.  They all looked in that direction just in time to see Giant lift his tail and spew out a helping of oil and manure.

"Good," Jim approved.  "That's horse number three.  Now that we know all the plumbing is working, we can get on our way."

Blair moved to Giant and stroked his face, wondering if he should feel ashamed of himself for thinking that the oil could have been put to better use.

"Don't forget to tighten your girth, Chief."

Bair realized he had forgotten.  He moved to the saddle and tightened the girth, which had been left loose since leaving Port Orchard, so the horses could relax as much as possible.   Now ready to mount, he looked around.  There wasn't a boulder or other mounting block available, and he thought his legs probably too weary -- from the boat trip, then the long walk through town -- to successfully vault into the saddle.  "Hey, Jim."

Jim had just put his foot into the stirrup of his mare.  He looked over his shoulder at Blair.

"Give me a leg up, will you?"

Jim took Red's reins and led her toward Blair.  Then he dropped them and bent down, lacing his fingers together.

Blair placed his foot into the step created by Jim's laced hands, and then pushed off of them as Jim lifted upwards.  A moment later, Blair landed in the saddle. "Thanks."

Jim patted his thigh, then turned back to his own saddle.

While adjusting his saddlebags, Blair smiled to himself, still feeling Jim's touch.  The thigh pat had been such a simple expression of affection, but it made his heart swell with love.  He paused a moment to finger the seashells on his necklace, still finding it hard to believe that Jim had spent his time on the beach the previous morning making it for him.

Now settled, Blair glanced over with the intent to gloat to Simon about how loved he felt.  But when he saw the black man adjusting his own saddlebags from the back of his gelding, Blair suddenly realized that he felt no ill will toward the other man.

In fact, he considered while noting the muscles barely covered by the shirt Simon wore, he was grateful for Simon's company on this leg of their journey.  Blair was a stranger in a strange land.  Despite his eagerness for whatever sights and experiences the coming weeks would hold, he didn't kid himself that danger wasn't lurking everywhere.  Whether friend or foe to the Empire, Simon was an experienced agent who could be very useful in a tight spot, and he had turned out to be an enjoyable traveling companion.

Blair realized he had forgiven him.

They traveled east, staying off the main road when they could, as they didn't want to attract any attention from unsavory types.

On the third day, they left the region of Baft and were no longer in the Empire's territory.  Though it was now close to winter, they were far enough south that the weather was mild.  They passed various travelers along the main road.  The only one who gave Blair a start was a gruff, bearded man who looked him up and down while asking for any news from Baft.  The man's leer reminded Blair that he looked like a slave from Tava, and he felt a chill go through him, followed by a moment of melancholy.  But the man eyed Jim and Simon -- no doubt finding them both too much of a task to overtake -- and he went on his way without any comment.

At dusk on the fourth day, they were traveling along a secondary road that paralleled a forest.  They were keeping their eyes out for a relatively comfortable, safe spot to bed down for the night.  They talked amongst themselves as their horses strolled along wearily.

Suddenly, Jim held up his hand.  "Shhh."

Blair fell silent.

Simon looked at Jim in puzzlement.  "Wha - "

Blair waved his hand at Simon and was glad when Simon also fell silent.

Jim was looking straight up the road.  In the distance were a couple of large boulders, a couple of stories high, one on each side of the road.  Jim turned his horse, so that he was facing the direction they had come.  To Blair and Simon, he said, "There are men ahead waiting to jump us.  At least two, but probably more."

Blair's heart pounded in his chest.

"How do you know that?" Simon asked.

Blair hissed, "He has a gift.  Extraordinary hearing.  Sight.  All the senses."

Simon's mouth fell open, and then his expression showed that things he'd wondered about in the weeks gone by were falling into place.

Blair whispered, "Maybe we can just turn around and find a way to go around them."

Jim shook his head.  "They'd just track us and wait for their next opportunity.  We wouldn't be able to sleep, because we'd have to be constantly alert."

"He's right," Simon said.  "We've got to make the first move."  He looked at Jim.  "What do you think?  Approach them leisurely, then when we get close enough, go in for the kill?"

Blair's throat tightened.

Jim nodded.  "I'll take the left.  You take the right."  He looked at Blair.  "Chief, as soon as we gallop off, you stay back.  And alert.  Don't be afraid to use your knife if anyone comes at you.  We don't know how many there are."

Blair barely managed to swallow a lump in his throat.  He felt his chest heave in an effort to draw a breath.

Jim's eyes met his.  "Staying alive is the most important thing, Chief.  These men are robbers and have placed little value on the lives of others.  They'll get what's coming to them."  He paused and his expression softened slightly.  "All right?"

Blair tried to swallow again and couldn't.  He nodded.

Reassuringly, Jim said, "Hopefully, there's no more than two behind each rock.  Simon and I should be able to handle them with the element of surprise on our side." Jim straightened, then looked at Blair again.  "Stay between us, Chief, until we go after them, and then stop where you are. With you being the smallest and on the tallest horse, you're the easiest target to jump from above."

Blair's eyes darted to the trees that lined the road.  He couldn't tell if anyone was in the branches.  But then, he couldn't tell that anyone was behind the boulders either.   The fact that it was nearly dark didn't help. 

Thank you, Bree, for Jim's gift.

"Try to look as natural as possible," Simon said as they turned their horses to start down the road again, Blair between the other two.

Blair realized that Jim and Simon had both moved their coats so that their pistols were within easy reach.

Please, Bree, Blair prayed as they approached the forbidding rocks, let us all come out of this safely.  For once, let Jim be wrong and nobody be there.

But he knew Jim wasn't wrong.

He found himself unbuttoning his own coat, acutely aware of the knife strapped at waist.  Jim had given him lessons in how to use it.  Admittedly, Blair hadn't taken them very seriously until Jim had yelled at him and angrily pointed out endless examples of situations where one or both of them would end up dead, unless Blair was willing to fight for his life.  He'd started paying attention then, if only because he didn't want to disappoint Jim.

Now he wished he'd paid even more attention than he had.

Blair's stomach tightened as they drew closer to the boulders.

"Now?" Simon whispered.

Jim nodded once.  "Now."

Having felt the tension of their riders, their horses were easy to send into an instant gallop.  Simon charged to the boulder on the right, Jim to the one on the left, both with their pistols out.

Giant tried to go with them, but Blair held him back while looking anxiously around, worried about anyone coming after him.  He also desperately worried about the fate that awaited his friends.

His heart thundered as he heard shouting -- which didn't sound like Jim or Simon -- and then gunfire that lit up the near-darkness with brief flashes, causing Giant to spin around in a half-rear.

Blair instinctively sat back to sink his weight into the saddle to make sure he didn't get unseated.  He hoped that the gunfire was from Simon and Jim, even though his stomach felt full of lead at the idea of them ruthlessly killing anyone in their path.  The gunfire continued -- more shouts now, the panic clear in the noise.

Giant took a few steps backward to the side of the road, his body tense, and Blair realized there was a figure moving in the tall grass at the shoulder of the road, a few feet in front of them.  Oh, no!

He wanted to shout to Jim for help, but would never forgive himself if his distracting Jim caused him to be hurt, or worse.  Hands shaking, he finally managed to pull his knife from its sheath.

The figure came out of the grass and ran toward him with a branch poised to deliver blows.  Blair felt a moment of confusion -- how did the man think he could pull him off a horse as tall as Giant?  Giant suddenly reared high in the air, and Blair realized he was losing his balance as gravity pulled his body down Giant's rump.  The next thing his knew he was grabbed by the shirt-front, and all he could think was Don't lose the knife as he felt himself hit the hard dirt of the road.

He knew he had no chance if the larger man got on top of him, so he wrenched free of the man's grip and darted to one side, regaining his feet in an instant.  He waved the knife wildly at the man, taking satisfaction when the man grabbed at his cheek.  

Got him! Blair thought with relief.  But he found himself unable to go for the kill as Jim had taught him-- take advantage of this split second that his assailant was stunned.

Instead, Blair brought the knife up again and yelled a deep animalistic sound -- as much incoherent gibberish as he could make -- and was overjoyed when the man staggered away, dropping the branch, and running back from where he had come.

Blair collapsed to one knee.  Oh, thank you, Bree.   He suddenly realized that the gunfire had stopped.  He looked up and could barely make out the image of Simon on his horse, holding his gun on somebody on the ground, saying something in a taunting manner.  

Please don't shoot him in cold blood.

Pounding hooves made Blair look over to the other rock, and Jim came charging from behind it -- straight toward him.  Blair swallowed, preparing to shout to Jim that he was fine, but Jim wasn't slowing his mare as he approached.  Instead, he galloped past Blair and off the road.  Blair realized with alarm that Jim was running down the man who was trying to escape.

"Let him go," Blair pleaded beneath his breath.  Surely, after being cut like that, the man would think twice about ever trying anything like this again.

But Jim was relentless, even though the man was zigzagging wildly, trying to get away.  Two feet were no match for four hooves, and Jim reached to grab the man by the collar, while slowing his mare.  As soon as Jim had him, he turned Red back toward Simon, his captive stumbling along beside him.

Blair looked around for Giant, finding him just a few feet away, watching all the happenings.  He was too shaky to vault into the saddle, so he grabbed the reins, then jogged off to where Simon was waiting.  

Jim trotted toward the black man, forcing his prisoner to run alongside.  He glanced back and slowed as Blair approached.  "You okay, Chief?"

"Fine," Blair said breathlessly.

"You cut his cheek?"

Blair nodded, slowing because they were near the rocks.

Jim turned back around to face Simon and his captive, and didn't say anything.
   
Blair assumed Jim was pleased with the wound he'd caused, but he knew it would be a different story when he later got up the nerve to confess that he hadn't been able to kill.  After all, it hadn't seemed necessary at the time, but he didn't think Jim would be too happy about his excuse.  Still, he wanted to hold on to his own sense of right and wrong.  If killing wasn't necessary....

Killing.

Blair's mouth fell open as his eyes made out the bodies in the darkness, acutely aware of the stench of their evacuated corpses and of the acrid smell of gunpowder still in the air.  There were two bodies here on the left side of the road.  Men that Simon had killed.  He wondered how many were on the right side of the road that Jim had killed.

But two were alive.

Simon dismounted, saying to Jim, "You've got them?"

Jim nodded, holding his gun on the two men who were sitting side-by-side against the rock, watching Jim with angry, dirty faces.  The one Simon had caught was holding his arm as though it were broken.

They're so skinny, Blair realized now.

"I'll see if they have anything on them," Simon said.

Jim nodded.

Simon dropped his reins and went to the first corpse.  He stuck his hand inside the pockets.

Blair was aware of a sudden wave of nausea.  He turned and ran into the grass, away from the road.  He felt his eyes tearing as the knot in his stomach tightened and grew.  At the edge of the woods, he collapsed and felt his stomach turn inside out, pushing bile up his throat and out of his mouth.

His cry was as much from horror as it was the pain of his body's rebellion.  Even after his stomach was empty, he choked out more cries as a release, not ashamed of the tears that fell from his eyes.    

"Blair?"

Blair swallowed down the sourness in his throat but didn't turn around.  He realized he must have been out here quite a while for Jim to come for him.

"What are you going to do to those two men?" Blair asked, his heart pounding with fear at the answer.

He heard Jim take a breath.  Then, "What do you think we should do with them?"

Good question.  Hopefully, Blair said, "Take them to the nearest town, so the law can deal with them?"

Jim squatted beside him.  "Chief, most towns around here don't have a law.  At best, they would probably torture these men just for the enjoyment of it, before killing them.  At worst, the lawmen might be the very ones encouraging thieves to rob travelers, so they can take a share of the spoils."

Blair finally sat back, turning to look at Jim.  "Then what are you going to do?"

Jim shrugged. "Tie them to a tree."

Blair felt relief, but he also gulped.  "Just leave them?  For the wolves?"

Jim sighed.  "They'll probably work themselves loose within a few hours.  Then, because we let them live, they'll probably kill some innocent travelers tomorrow night, since they got nothing from us tonight.  There's no easy answer here, Chief.  If you can come up with one, I'd like to hear it."

Blair turned to look at him, sorry it was dark.  "Why not just leave them without tying them up?  They're both injured.  And it didn't even look like they had guns or anything."

"They didn't.  Just sticks and crude knives."

"Then...?"

Jim sighed tiredly.  "There's surely more where they came from.  It we let them go for reinforcements, they could try to track us down -- to avenge the ones we killed, if nothing else.  The sooner we leave here, the better."

"They seem so skinny," Blair said, understanding why people who were hungry would be inclined to rob others.  "What was Simon checking their pockets for?"

Jim pushed to his feet.  "To see if they had anything of value on them.  They didn't."

"And if they did?" Blair wondered, standing also.

"Then we would have taken anything that would have been useful to us."  As though realizing Blair might not understand that, Jim added, "It's the law of war, Chief.  Besides, those dead men have no further use for their worldly possessions."

As they started walking back, Blair was unsure of what to think.

Jim's voice was brighter when he noted, "You successfully defended yourself.  You did good, Chief."   He draped his arm around Blair.
  
Blair swallowed.  "I had an opportunity to kill that man.  I couldn't.  Turns out, he ran away anyway."

Jim's voice firmed, and he gripped Blair's shoulder.  "You can't count on that.  When you hesitated to kill him, he could have killed you."  Pause, then a whispered, "Then what would become of me?"  

Jim moved away to join Simon, who was tying the men to a tree.

Blair blinked, staring after Jim, as the words repeated in his mind.

My life is no longer my own to forfeit or sacrifice, he decided, feeling the weight of that responsibility -- and the fascination of his own value to another human being.

He wondered why he was just now realizing that.
 

END PART THREE

PART FOUR

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