FAITH SHINES EQUAL
© November 2002 by Charlotte Frost

PART FOUR

When they were within a week of Calliso, they began to ride through a plains area with the nearest town many miles away.  They'd seen very few travelers on the road.  Still, it had become standard for Blair to travel between Simon and Jim.  

Blair was still horrified by what had happened with the would-be robbers, but he had found enough peace with it to not mull over it constantly.  As Jim had warned him, they were in a dangerous area now. Blair knew that, alone, he would have little chance of survival, even if he wasn't someone who looked like a Tava slave.  He was grateful for Jim and Simon at his flanks.

They hadn't had any more run-ins with thieves, though when they had stopped for a meal at a tavern, Jim had almost gotten into a fight with a trio of men looking for trouble, who claimed that the table Blair and his companions sat at belonged to them.  Simon had stood up from their table to join Jim, showing that they would have to fight him, as well.  The men had then backed down.

Simon was hard to figure.  In every way that Blair could see, Simon seemed like a fine and capable agent.  They would soon reach Calliso, and Simon would expect to part from them, since he thought they wanted to go to Matta.  Before then, Blair and Jim needed to come up with a reason to stay with Simon, so they could find some way of determining if he was acting against the Empire.  All they needed was proof -- one way or the other -- and then they could submit their report, mission successfully accomplished.  But in the few times they were away from Simon and could speak privately, neither of them had a firm idea on how they could manage to stay with their traveling companion without raising his suspicions about their mission.

Blair wasn't sure what he hoped they would ultimately find out about the big black man.  He had proven himself a friend, through and through.  If it turned out that he was giving secrets to the Empire's enemies, Blair wasn't sure that it meant Simon was a bad man.  He could think of lots of reasons not to support the Empire.  In fact, most who lived in the Northern Territory didn't support it at all.  But their peaceful way of life did little to upset the Empire's continuation of business as usual, so they were left alone.

"See those deer?" Jim said from beside Blair.  He'd pulled up his mare.

Blair turned Giant to look where Jim was pointing.  He saw an expanse of tall grassland.  After focusing for a moment, Blair realized he was looking at a herd of deer that were bounding through the grass so quietly that he never would have known they were there.  "Wow," he said.  

Simon had also pulled up his horse to look.

Giant's ears suddenly tilted forward, showing he had also picked up on the activity.  Simon's gelding did likewise.

Giant began to snort and fidget.

"Easy, Giant" Blair said with a uneasy laugh.  He noticed that Simon's horse was behaving similarly.  "Guess they don't like the deer."

"Maybe it's like huge snakes in the grass to them," Simon suggested.

There was an equine noise to their left, and Blair turned to watch Red suddenly shake her head, snorting heavily, and take a few steps backwards.

Jim growled at her and gave her a kick.  Suddenly, she leapt into the air, giving a powerful buck, and Jim was halfway out of the saddle.

"Jim!" Blair said with alarm, realizing Jim was going to fall, despite his attempt to right himself.

She bucked again.

Jim landed on his back and was still.

Blair vaulted from Giant.  "JIM!"

His mouth was dry.  The sun was shining on his face.  His body ached.

He squinted as he opened his eyes.

"Easy does it, Jim," came Simon's soothing voice.

"Jim?" was the anxious voice that was most familiar to him.  "Oh, thank you, Bree."  A gentle touch settled against Jim's cheek.

"Water," Jim rasped.

"Maybe we should try sitting you up first," Simon suggested.

Jim nodded to show he was agreeable to that.  It was hard to breathe, lying against the ground the way he was.

He started to shift and was aware of aches and pains throughout his body.  He knew from experience that none of them was serious, just uncomfortable.  He braced against it, and allowed Simon and Blair to pull him into a sitting position so that his back was resting against a tree.

"Here you go," Simon said, tilting a canteen.

Jim opened his mouth gratefully.

Anxiously, Blair asked, "How's the pain?"

Jim swallowed a few mouthfuls before the canteen ran dry.  He looked into Blair's concerned eyes.  "Okay."  Then, deciding he needed to be more reassuring, "It's okay, really."  What a wonderful thing, to not have his "gift" kick back up on him now.

A visible relief went through Blair.

"How long?" Jim managed.

"A full day," Blair said in a shaky voice.

"I couldn't feel any broken bones," Simon said.  "I think you just got knocked out."  Soft laugh.  "That damn mare was bucking so high in the air that you hit pretty hard."

Blair patted Jim's forehead.  "I'll go refill all the canteens.  You just rest, Jim."

Jim reached up, glad that his arm didn't hurt too badly, and squeezed Blair's forearm.

Blair moved off.

"It's a good thing you're going to be all right," Simon said with amusement.  "Otherwise, if you'd died, I was afraid when I dug a grave for you that Sandburg was going to go right in after you -- still breathing."

Jim grinned affectionately.  Then he sobered and patted Simon's arm.  "Thanks for helping him."

"Sure thing.  You're a pretty big guy for a slender man like Sandburg to be hauling around." Now curiosity filled Simon's voice.  "Where did you find him, anyway?"

Where did I find him? Jim wondered.  Their days had been so full that he'd given little thought to the past; but then, he wasn't a man who reflected much on the past, anyway. It some ways it seemed that Blair had always been in his life.  Had he been alive before going to Sanctuary some four months ago?

He and Blair had an unspoken agreement with Simon that they didn't ask about things that the other didn't offer.  But he could understand Simon wanting to know, and he couldn't see any harm in the telling.  "He found me," he finally replied, then took a breath.  "In Sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" Simon repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah," Jim said, managing a grin at the absurdity of it.  He could see how someone wouldn't be able to understand why a soldier such as himself, or a young man as smart as Blair, would ever have reason to be in Sanctuary -- let alone have permission to enter there.  Still, he realized now, the weeks spent in Sanctuary had been the most cherished of his life.  "Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime."

"I'd like to hear," Simon admitted.  Then he asked, "How do you feel?"

"A bit banged up," Jim said, trying to sit up straighter and grateful for Simon's assistance.  "But I have a feeling it'll help to start moving around."  He saw all three horses tethered under a tree, their saddles off.  "Damn mare."

Simon chuckled.  "She's in season, so she was being skittish."

Jim snorted. "The sergeant at the outpost told me she tended to spook, but I hadn't had any problem with her before this."

"None of the horses liked the deer."  Simon laughed briefly.  "But, boy, she was bucking really high in the air.  No wonder you got dumped."

"It's been a long time since I've been thrown," Jim sighed.  He looked at Simon and summoned forth a grin.  "I'll let you in on a little secret:  It hurts a hell of a lot more hitting the ground when you're thirty-six than it does when you're twenty-five."

Simon laughed again.

Blair appeared with a half dozen dripping canteens.  "Here you go, Jim," he said breathlessly, kneeling and taking the lid off one.  "Go easy."

Jim took the canteen from him and spent a long time drinking most of it.  "That hit the spot," he said when his thirst was finally quenched.

A few minutes later, he encouraged his companions to help him stand.  Everything ached, but he knew he would feel better as he worked out the stiffness.  There was only a couple of hours left until sundown, so they decided to camp where they were until morning.
 
With the excuse of needing to walk around to help Jim's muscles loosen up, Jim and Blair found themselves alone at sunset.  They sat on a hill, watching the western horizon, their arms around each other.

Blair said, "It's good to know that your gift has settled down and doesn't spike like it used to.  I was afraid that when you hit the ground so hard, everything you felt was going to be increased tenfold."

Jim hugged him.  "I haven't had those spikes in a long time. It's almost like your presence is a balm to them."

Blair looked at him and smiled warmly.

Switching subjects, Jim said, "I've been thinking about what we need to do about our mission.  I think when we reach the road to Matta, we should take it.  But then we'll double back to Calliso and spend however long it takes spying on Simon, until we have proof one way or the other of his loyalty."

"I don't like the idea of spying on him," Blair said levelly.

"I don't either, " Jim admitted.  "But unless you have a better idea...."

Blair shook his head.  "No," he said sadly.  He gazed at the sunset for a long moment.  "Bree wants us to succeed on this mission."

Jim looked at him.  It was easy to forget how much of a believer Blair was since he rarely talked of his spiritual feelings.  "What makes you say that?"

"Because he sent Simon to us so early in our mission."  He waited until Jim met his eye.  "What are the chances that of all the people in the Empire who could have come upon us at the springs, it was the very person we were supposed to find?"

Jim blinked.  He had never even considered how unlikely that was.  Still, it was so obviously coincidence....

"Don't say it was a coincidence," Blair said with a touch of amusement.  "The odds against it are too great."

Jim remained silent.

Three days later, they came to a crossroads.  Calliso was just a half-day farther to the north, and the road had become busier.

Simon held out his hand to Jim.  "I hope that this is only a temporary goodbye, my friends."

Jim took his hand and shook it.  "Same here.  Once our mission is complete in Matta, we'll come looking for you in Calliso."

"And I'll do likewise," Simon said, turning to shake Blair's hand, "if I complete my business first in Calliso.  It's hard to say how long it'll take."

"Goodbye, Simon," Blair said, turning Giant to take the road east to Matta.

Moments later, Jim and Blair were alone.

Blair asked, "How long do you think we should wait before we double back?"

"Give him a chance to get to Calliso.  I think we should go ahead and ride to Matta, then slant northwest back toward Calliso.  Hopefully, it won't take as long, though it'll no doubt be a rougher trip."

Blair mused, "I don't really care if Simon is loyal to the Empire or not.  Do you?"

Jim replied, "It's not my job to care.  I just want to successfully complete our mission.  We'll have done that once we have solid proof of Simon's loyalty or treason."

"And if he is selling secrets?" Blair challenged.  "It wouldn't bother you to just throw him to the wolves?"

"If he's guilty of treason, he's thrown himself to the wolves," Jim stated reasonably, though Blair's question made his stomach churn.  "Besides," he said, wanting to soothe his own conscience, "Simon is able to take care of himself.  I'd think he'd have a contingency plan if he were guilty of treason and thought there was a chance that he'd be arrested by his fellow agents."

Blair grinned at him.  "You hope he gets away."

Jim firmed his jaw.  "My personal feelings don't matter when it comes to doing the job.  And neither should yours."

Blair's grin widened.  "Right, Jim."

They were two hours away from Matta at dusk the next day when a second traveler complimented Jim in passing on his "fine-looking slave".    

Blair wanted to crawl into a hole.  He was not bound in any way.  When needing to ride single-file to let other travelers pass, he and Giant led the way from Jim and Red.  He even carried a knife at his waist, but moving his coat to reveal it didn't deter the don't-mind-their-own-business wealthier citizens of this region from assuming Blair was a slave.

All because of how he looked.

It didn't help that it was becoming apparent, based upon the appearance of the other travelers, that Matta was a city of wealth.  The educated student in Blair cringed at the idea that slavery was probably pretty widespread in the city, with the money to buy slave favors and the slaves available from Tava, some 100 miles to the north.  Everywhere he turned, people would assume he was a slave -- and surely treat him as such.

"This way, Chief."

Blair glanced back to see that Jim had turned off the road.  He assumed they were going to camp nearby tonight and reach the city tomorrow.

He knew Jim felt bad for him and probably felt helpless to do anything about it.  Jim had merely nodded at the passers-by who had made the slave comments, definitely not wanting to get in a conversation with them, but also having already deduced that it would do no good to get outwardly angry. As Jim would say, the local citizens couldn't help it that they expected a man who looked like Blair to be a slave, considering it was a known fact that anyone from Tava -- and the Tavans apparently looked like Blair -- would be a slave.

Finally, Jim pulled his mare to a halt within a half circle of rocks and a few sparse trees.  "We'll camp here.  I hear a small stream. It doesn't sound like much, but at least it's something."

They both dismounted and spent a while setting up camp, neither speaking.  That wasn't necessarily unusual because they both were often beat after a long day of travel.  But Blair could sense the tension in Jim.

Jim took out his knife.  "I'll find dinner."

Blair made a fire, took care of the horses, then spread out the bearskins and other blankets they used for bedding.  

He had started cooking some rice when Jim returned with a rabbit.  They watched their meal roast in silence.

Blair couldn't take it any more.  He said, "It's not your fault, you know, what people in these parts assume about me."

Gently, Jim said, "It's going to get worse.  Especially when we're in the city -- any city in this region."

"I know."  Blair snorted with a laugh.  "I guess, in a way, it's okay.  You know?  If people think I belong to you, that's not really an untruth."  He risked a quick glance at Jim and didn't see a change in his expression.  "At least if people think I'm 'owned', I'm pretty sure that they wouldn't try to do anything to me without your permission."  He added, "Simon asked at the springs.  Even though," he relented, reliving the outrage he'd felt at the time, "he seemed to assume you'd say 'yes'. Like... that's understood between slave owners, or something."

Jim didn't answer and they ate their meal in silence.  Finally, hoping it would appease his mate's unease, Blair said, "Jim?  I'll stick to you like glue.  I don't want to be alone in any of these cities.  Not even for a few minutes.  I have no desire to be slave-napped."

Jim nodded slowly.

Feeling restless, Blair cleaned up and packed things away while Jim sat staring at the fire.  He spent so much time at it that there would be little preparation needed before leaving in the morning.

When Blair couldn't find anything else to occupy himself with and came back near the fire, Jim looked up at him with a guilty, hesitant expression. "Blair...."

Relieved Jim was finally talking, Blair squatted down beside him.  "Yeah?"

Jim looked away, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Blair felt his stomach tighten.  "Jim, the way you look right now reminds me of when we were going to see the doctor at the army base, and you wanted me to be your prisoner."

Jim let out an unhappy sigh and his mouth corner twitched in chagrin.

Worriedly, Blair asked, "What are you thinking, Jim?  You've got a plan, haven't you?"  Somehow, he didn't think he was going to like it.

Jim closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them, his gaze settled on the fire.  "Look, Chief.  People are already going to assume you're my slave."

"Right."

"So...," Jim finally looked at him, "why don't we give them what they expect?  Why don't we pretend you are my slave?  That way, there wouldn't be anything suspicious about us and no one would have to try to figure out why I'm treating you as an equal."

Blair's mind raced ahead.  He supposed it could work.  It's not like things would have to be much different between him and Jim privately.  In public, people were already treating him like he didn't exist -- and would continue to do so.

"I'll just make it clear," Jim went on, "that I spoil you, that I'm truly in love with you, that I'm very possessive of you, and that I'll kill anyone who lays a hand on you.  To show how much I trust you, I let you carry your knife to ward off anyone who attempts to harm you."

"Yeah," Blair rallied.  "I can do that."  Then he grinned hugely, eager to break the tension.  "Besides, when it comes to bed time, I am your slave. When you say 'suck my cock', I'm on my knees sucking your cock.  When you say you want to fuck, my butt is in the air and my legs are spread for you.  If you want special favors, my tongue is all eager to please."

Jim waved a hand, looking away.  "Chief..." he said bashfully.

Blair laughed.  "You're blushing."  Not that he could tell in the darkness.  Suddenly restless, he stood.

Jim looked up at him, his expression sober.  "You have to realize, Blair, that you aren't going to be able to talk like you're used to.  Maybe you and I can, but nobody else is going to listen to you.  So, you can't be as... forward as you're used to being."

Blair considered that.  A true slave.  But...  "That could be a blessing, Jim."  He watched Jim rise to his feet.  "I mean, if people think I'm just a dumb plaything, they might say things around me that are useful to us, that they think you can't hear."

Jim nodded thoughtfully.  "Good idea.."  He turned to face Blair, laying both hands on his shoulders.  "Chief...."  His voice was soft, gentle.

Blair felt mesmerized by those deep, soulful eyes.  

"If the feeling of being a captive starts to get to you...." Jim dropped to his knees, his eyes still on Blair's.  "Just remember who is enslaved to whom." Without looking away, his hands came up and worked with the closure at the front of Blair's jeans.

Blair closed his eyes as his zipper was lowered.  Oh, man.

Blair hardly noticed the morning chill as he and Jim went about saddling the horses.

Last night had been magic.  Blair was certain that their loving had lasted hours.  Only, it was all one-sided.  Jim wouldn't let Blair pleasure him. Instead, he sucked him and petted him and squeezed him and probed inside him and licked every inch of his body -- doing some of those things multiple times.  Blair knew he'd come three different times.  There might have been a fourth.  He just wasn't real sure if, when he drifted into sleep, it was from a fourth orgasm or just because his body felt so perfectly wonderful after what had happened to it.

Buoyed by love, he felt the confidence to take on whatever adventures and hardships their journey might throw at them.

Matta was a bustling city, but with none of the suspicious nature of Baft's port town.  Most of the citizens moved about in flowing, colorful robes.  A few had motor cars.  The streets were kept fairly clean and many of the buildings were beautifully decorated.

As an anonymous slave, Blair felt free to look around while shadowing Jim.  It surprised him to see slave bracelets on many attractively dressed women -- and a few men -- who were shopping.  He couldn't tell that they were oppressed.  But he quickly scoffed at the idea of "happy slaves".  If these people were content, it could only be because it was the only life they had known.  From what he had gathered, slaves from Tava were bred to deliver pleasure.  The young ones had no reason to believe they could ever be anything else, so they apparently hoped for nothing better.

Blair wondered what happened to them when they became old, or when their masters otherwise tired of them.  Perhaps they then became house servants.  Or perhaps some -- including one who might have been Blair's father -- had visions of a better life and fled the region at great risk in order to settle in the Northern Territory of the Empire.

Their first stop was to get a slave bracelet made for Blair.  It was a simple gold band with "Property of Jim Ellison" engraved on it.  Jim registered with the Slave Office so that if he and Blair were ever separated, a good citizen would bring Blair to the office to match up with his master -- sort of a "lost and found" for the slave trade.  Jim didn't want to think about what a not-so-good citizen would do if he and Blair became separated.

As they moved about the city, Jim kept one hand on Blair's shoulder to ground himself, and then sent his hearing outward as far as he could, hoping to catch some bit of conversation that might somehow be useful for their mission.  

It was late afternoon, with snow flurries filling the air, when Jim heard something.  An old, leathery-faced man with a mule and cart was calling out, "Wares from Calliso!  Fresh wares from Calliso!"

Jim and Blair waited until the cart was free of shoppers.  Then Jim went up to the man and leaned against the cart.  "I'm looking for information from Calliso."

The man snorted.  "Nothing comes free."

"I can pay you, but only if you tell me information that I can believe is the truth."

"What do you want to know?"

"Have you heard of a man named Simon Banks?"

The man shook his head.  "No."

"What about any news of an Empire's agent in Calliso?"

"I hear much bandied about with regard to various 'agents'.  I pay it no heed."

This was enough to at least be worth something.  Jim gave the man a bill.  "What have you heard?"

The man studied the bill for a long moment.  Jim gave him another.

The man said, "I have heard different stories about someone named Magus.  I don't know which are true and which aren't."

"Tell me anyway."

"Some say he is an agent of the Empire.  Some say he is a powerful man against the Empire."

"What makes him powerful?"

"He's building a secret weapon, some say."  The man scoffed.  "I don't believe them.  There've been rumors like that for years."

"This Magus," Jim pressed hopefully, "he doesn't stay in Calliso, does he?  But only visits?"

"No.  He has lived in Calliso for a few years.  Most say he came from the Empire, though."

Jim felt himself deflate.  Simon couldn't be Magus.

He heard a whisper from Blair, who had his back turned as he held their horses.  "If this Magus is building a secret weapon," Blair said, "then maybe Simon has something to do with that.  Like, maybe Simon helped him get the information."

Jim cocked his head.  That made sense.  If nothing else, it was a start.  "Where does this Magus live in Calliso?"

"I've heard it's a big house -- like a castle -- at the northeast edge of the city.  There are no other houses around it.  But I've never been there."

"You ever hear of Simon Banks?" Jim pressed again.  "He has very dark skin.  Tall and muscular."

The man shook his head.  "It's possible I may have seen him around, but that description is too vague."

Blair reached to the saddle bags and whispered, "I need to find the drawing the Empress's staff gave us."

"No, don't bother," Jim called to him, doubting it would make a difference.

The man looked at Jim strangely.

Jim handed him some more bills.  "Thanks for your help."

As he joined Blair, Jim said, "We've got enough to go on for the time being."  He nudged Blair's shoulder.  "Good thinking about Magus."

Blair grinned widely as he handed Red's reins to Jim.

"Sir!  Sir!"

Jim paused from preparing to mount.  A middle-aged, bearded man with flowing robes was rushing toward him.  "Please, a word with you," he said as he slowed.

"Yes?" Jim said warily, wondering if it was possible this man somehow had overheard their conversation with the merchant and had news about Simon.

The man stopped before him, breathing hard.  "Please.  Come to my hotel and let us talk."

No, it wasn't possible that this man knew what Jim had said to the merchant.  Jim shook his head.  "I'm in a hurry."  He just stopped himself from saying we, since Blair's presence was not to be acknowledged.

"Please.  I assure you that you'll want to hear this."

Jim held back a sigh of impatience.  "Tell me now.  I don't have much time."

The man nodded at Blair.  "I see the curls in your slave's hair.  I don't have any stock with curls like that."

"He's not avail- " Jim began.

"No," the man held up a hand.  "Please listen.  I do not want him for myself.  I have much money and I would like to lease him for a few weeks.  He could impregnate my female stock so they would have children with the curls.  I see that you enjoy spoiling him.  I assure you that he would be treated better than any slave could imagine.  He could even choose which women he wanted to bed, as long as he impregnates at least half of them."

Jim realized his mouth had fallen open.  He glanced up at Blair, who seemed equally stunned.  Would he enjoy something like that? he wondered, having no answer.  What he did know was that they didn't have time for this right now.

Jim prepared to mount again. "I have urgent business elsewhere.  Perhaps I'll see you again sometime and we can discuss it then."  He hoisted himself into the saddle, glad to see that Blair was doing likewise on Giant, having used a mounting block.

The man nodded eagerly and pointed.  "I live in the top suite of the hotel on the corner there, which I own.  I assure you that neither you nor your slave will regret such a decision.  You will be rich and he will have the time of his life -- and provide many beautiful children."

Blair was relieved that they didn't have time to talk about the slave owner's offer as they left Matta and headed northwest through the wooded areas that would give them the most direct route to Calliso.  Their attention was on picking the best way through the trees.  Though the snow had stopped, the air turned even colder. They settled on dry rations for dinner, so they could eat quickly and get between their warm furs as soon as possible.

Blair waited until they were snuggled up together.  Then, curiously, he asked, "Would you really talk to that man again if you ran into him?"  He knew he didn't need to say whom he meant.

He felt Jim shrug behind him.  "If there was reason to.  If you doing what he wanted might have somehow provided you with inside information."

Blair felt a bubble of disbelief settle in his chest.  If it weren't for the cold, he would have jumped to his feet in indignation.  "What are you saying?" he demanded. "That you might possibly agree to have me sleep with a bunch of women -- like some livestock stud?"

"I-I wasn't sure if it might be something that you would like to do."

Blair rolled over onto his back so he could face Jim.  "WHAT?"

Jim look puzzled.  "It would be your choice, of course."

"I don't believe this," Blair gasped, feeling that Jim was suddenly a stranger to him.  "Are you saying it wouldn't bother you if I was unfaithful?"

"It wouldn't be being unfaithful," Jim stated reasonably.  "You wouldn't be giving your love to them.  Only providing your seed.  And if you were enjoying yourself while you were at it...."

Blair blinked.  "I don't believe this," he said again, feeling the anger rise up from his gut.  "How can you feel that way when we're pledged."

Jim sighed.  "I'm a practical man, Blair.  If impregnating women was a means to an end -- such as finding out necessary information, or providing you with children, if you want them -- I wouldn't stand in the way, if you were willing.  I don't see it as betraying our pledge when it's merely a physical act."

"Children who would be slaves?" Blair huffed indignantly.  "No, Jim, I do not want any children.  Especially children I wouldn't be around to love. And most especially children who would have a lifetime of slavery before them."

"All right," Jim said simply, as though that ended the subject.

Blair slapped Jim's chest with the back of his hand as a horrifying thought occurred.  "Are you saying that if our situations were reversed, you'd be willing to 'impregnate' that man's female slaves?"

"No," Jim said firmly.  "Not if I knew it would hurt you.  I would never intentionally hurt you.  I obviously have, though.  I can't say that I understand why."

Blair felt relief at that admission and rolled back onto his side.  He supposed a part of him should feel some gratitude that Jim wasn't possessive to the point of wanting to deny Blair something pleasurable, assuming Blair indeed found pleasure in it.

"I just thought," Jim continued in a softer voice, "that maybe you missed being with women.  I didn't want to take that opportunity away from you without having a chance to discuss it first."

Blair snorted.  "I don't miss women, Jim.  I enjoyed making love to them before Sanctuary."  His voice softened.  "But then I met you.  Nobody makes me feel like you do. I don't just mean in my heart, but in the ways you touch me and pleasure me.  I can't imagine the most skilled slave being able to make love to me the way you do.  Not because they're slaves, but because of your gift."  Jim's fingers were brushing lightly along his arm, beneath the covers.

Blair suddenly realized why Jim might have thought he missed women.  "Do you miss sleeping with women?"  He resisted the urge to roll onto his back again.

"No," Jim said immediately.  "I never wanted them. I don't know why.  Maybe it was because there simply wasn't anyone available when I was young. It's just... on occasion, the urge would get very strong.  And then I would go to the army whorehouses -- and usually come away feeling worse than before I went."

"Wow," Blair said, his heart filling with sadness.  "I guess I've never really asked you that before.  Are you saying that, before me, you've only been with whores?"

"There were a few others," Jim said very quietly.  "I was never with them more than once.  There was one particular time when our unit overtook a city, but we still had skirmishes with snipers.  A young woman there smiled at me and I felt an attraction to her.  We spent the night together and I returned to our unit.  Weeks later, when we were leaving the town, I saw her decomposed body on the side of the road.  She'd been shot.  I imagine she was an innocent victim who got caught in the crossfire.  I was grateful for the night we'd had together, and I felt guilty for feeling that way.  I don't think I ever bedded anyone other than the whores again.  Until you."

Blair swallowed the thick lump in his throat.  "I'm sorry, Jim.  I guess I overreacted.  I suppose, as far as slavery goes, that man was making a valid offer and you were just leaving the door open instead of rejecting it on the spot without my input."

When Jim spoke this time, there was a hint of humor in his tone.  He laid his hand on Blair's shoulder.  "If we run into him again, I'll tell him that you're sterile."

Blair was grateful to have reason to laugh again.  "Yeah.  Tell him my seed is used up because you've swallowed it all."

Blair felt a sharp sting on his rear.  "Ouch!" he protested, laughing.

"Silly.  Go to sleep.  Once we reach Calliso, we're sure to have tiring days asking a lot of questions, and trying to find this Magus guy and how Simon might be tied to him."

They reached Calliso the following evening and found a hotel room for the night.  They let their horses rest up in the livery the following day while they went about on foot, trying to ask about Simon or Magus without looking suspicious.  If Simon had been here before, he might have allies who would alert him that two men were asking questions.  That held doubly for Magus, if he were truly powerful.

Blair managed his slave role fairly well, other than feeling his lack of importance whenever people replied to Jim's questions by looking solely at Jim and dismissing Blair completely.  Once, a large burley-looking man grabbed at Blair's hair in passing, and he paid for it by being slammed up against a wall with Jim's arm at his throat.  He apologized and said that Blair looked "pretty enough to touch."  Jim growled that he'd best keep his hands to himself, or he would lose one.  The man meekly slinked away when Jim released him.

Calliso's citizens were less wealthy than those of Matta.  Only residents of above average class knew where Magus's estate was located.  Beyond that, they said he was an important citizen of the town, if only because of his wealth.  Trying to find out if Simon had connections to Magus, or if he had ever arrived in town at all, was much more difficult.  No one reported seeing anyone meeting his description.

"Maybe he never came here," Blair said, as he and Jim left the hotel their second morning there.  "Maybe that was all a ruse.  Just like it was a ruse for us to tell him we were going to Matta."

"Maybe," Jim relented unhappily.  "It's also possible that Magus isn't connected to Simon in any way.  Still, while we're here, I'd like to try to sneak onto his estate.  If he's developing secret weapons, the Empress needs to know about it."

"Somehow," Blair said, "as big as Magus's castle sounds, I'm not sure that sneaking in is going to be easy."

"Maybe not, but my gift gives me an advantage.  If I could pick a time when I'd know he wasn't home...."

"Maybe as we get closer to his castle, more people will know about his routine."

"They also might be suspicious of anyone who might try to harm him," Jim noted.  "If he contributes a lot to the town's economy, I imagine that few have reason to hate him."

"Good point," Blair said glumly.

A few moments later, a child of about ten rushed up to Jim.  "Sir, sir, I have information."

"From who?" Jim asked.

The boy pointed to someone they had questioned the day prior.  He was an elderly man, sitting at the front of his shop.

"What's your information?" Jim asked, kneeling down.

"The black man you described is heading for Magus's castle now.  He was in our shop and asking questions about the castle."  The boy held out his hand to show he was done.

"Terrific!" Blair said.

Jim flopped some bills into the boy's hand.  "Thanks, son."

The boy's eyes widened at the generous bills. "Thanks, mister!"  He ran off.

Jim nudged Blair.  "Come on.  Let's get our horses and head out there."

They both took off at a run toward the livery.

They traveled through the woods again, parallel to the road that led toward Magus's castle.  They stayed a good quarter-mile back, lest Simon hear them.  They were still moving when darkness fell.

"Just how far is this place?" Blair grumbled, his breath wafting through the cold air.

"I can barely see the outline ahead," Jim said.  "It looks like a castle.  I think we should leave the horses here and proceed on foot.  That way, we can get closer."

They made quick work of tying their horses to a tree, then stealthily ran down the road, staying just to the shoulder, so they had some hope of catching up to Simon without being spotted.

Finally, Jim saw Simon come within a hundred yards of the castle gate.  There were lights on from inside the castle.  Though the gate wasn't lit, he assumed there was a guard manning it.

He gestured Blair to some trees that gave them cover as they caught their breaths.

"What's he doing?" Blair asked.

Jim watched Simon turn off the main road, onto the side opposite them.  "He didn't go all the way to the gate," he observed.  He watched Simon dismount.  "He's tying his horse to a tree, like we did.  I wonder why he didn't go all the way to the castle itself."

Jim watched as Simon crouched low, a rifle in hand, and headed toward the huge structure, but away from the gate.  "He's got his rifle out and going a long way around.  I think he's going to sneak in."

"Maybe he and Magus aren't exactly best buddies then?" Blair wondered, his teeth chattering.

"Yeah."  Jim pulled at Blair's sleeve.  "Come on, Chief.  Let's not lose him.  Stay close."

They moved off as quickly as they could.  Blair had to guide Jim around rocks and other obstacles in their path, because Jim's sight was so focused on where Simon was going.

The next time they paused for breath, Jim said, "He's cut the wire fencing and is getting on the grounds that way.  Come on."

Indeed, when they reached the wire mesh fencing, there was a hole cut in it large enough for a man to slip through.   They took advantage of it, Jim going through first and immediately focusing on Simon.  

"He's picked a lock and is going through a side entrance."  Jim smelled water from a moat, but it apparently only ran along the back of the castle.  

They walked more slowly this time, for they had almost caught up to Simon.  Outside the now unlocked door, Jim pulled his pistol.  "Stay close to me, Blair.  I don't know what's going on, but if things get tense, your first responsibility is to stay alive.  If I know you're focused on that, I don't have to worry about you, and I can concentrate on what I have to do."

Blair nodded quickly, his body stiff with tension and cold.  "Got it."

Jim stepped through the door.  All he saw was darkness, but his night vision adjusted and he started to creep up a winding staircase, with Blair following behind. After a few steps, he heard voices.

"It'll destroy everything for a hundred miles around," one voice said proudly.  

"It is truly a great invention," another said.  "After all these years you've worked on it, Magus, it's hard to believe that it's almost complete."

"Yes," Magus replied, "It's the achievement of a lifetime.  The Highland rebels will be able to eventually take down the Empire.  The complete devastation from just one of these explosives should bring the Empress to her knees so that she'll surrender before more of the Empire is destroyed."

"Have the Highland rebels seen it yet?"

"Only their leader.  He will bring others with him when it is complete.  Then they will deliver it to their target destination to explode."

Jim reached the top of the staircase.  The doorless opening led to a brightly-lit laboratory.  Magus and the other man were talking, their backs to him. He had heard of the Highland rebels.  They were east of this region and thought to be such a small force that they were of no concern to the Empire. Now, it appeared that Magus was close to finishing some sort of explosive that would be devastating to the Empire.

Blair followed close behind as Jim began to scan the laboratory for signs of Simon, not sure how their friend fit in to what was going on.

Jim finally gave up on sight, and his nose detected an odor he associated with Simon.  It was somewhere above where they were, but he couldn't see him.  He did remember passing a dark depression on the side of the staircase.  He tiptoed there now and took a few steps toward the depression.  He then saw that it was a narrow crawl space.  He could see Simon at the end of it, setting up his gun, as he looked down into the lab from a carved out hole in the wall.

Jim nudged Blair.  "Stay here and out of sight," he said.  "I'm going after Simon.  There's not room enough for all of us."

Blair nodded.

Jim crawled into the narrow, dark space.  After about ten yards, it opened up into a wider area where peepholes were carved to observe the lab. "Simon," Jim hissed, sotto voice.

Simon looked sharply in his direction.  "Jim!" he whispered back.  "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What are you?"

Simon's face grew stern as he aimed his rifle.  "Stay out of this, Jim.  I'm an agent of the Empress, just like you and Blair are, only my assignments are assassinations. I've found my mark."

Jim swallowed thickly at the cool, business-like tone.  He looked through the nearest peephole and saw the other man shake Magus's hand, and then leave through a door at the far wall.

Magus turned around.

Jim gasped.  "Oh, no!" he whispered, wondering if somehow there could be some mistake.  But despite the grey hair, there was the unmistakable chiseling of the man's features -- and how could he have forgotten that voice?

Simon looked over at him.  "What is it?"

Jim felt that the world had just crumbled.  "Magus is my father!"

Simon lowered his rifle.  "Your father?"

Blair's voice echoed.  "Your father?"  He had worked himself halfway through the crawl space.

Jim shook his head.  "How can he be involved in something like this?"

Simon sat back with a sigh.  "I can't kill your father, Jim."

Jim could think of only one thing.  "We have to stop him."

"It's three against one," Simon noted, "but I imagine he's got some protections built into this place that we can't detect."

Blair suddenly expelled a painful gasp.  Jim watched in horror as Blair was pulled backwards.  Looking back out into the peephole, he couldn't see Magus.  "He has Blair!"

The strong grip on his legs had taken Blair by surprise.  The backwards pulling scraped against his belly, despite the protection of his clothing, and prevented him from reaching his knife.

"What do we have here?" Magus taunted, subduing Blair with a chokehold and putting a gun to his head.  Then, to the passageway, "I have your slave and I'll kill him if you don't come out of there."  Then to Blair, "Come on."  He dragged Blair back into the lab, keeping his gun at his temple.

Blair wriggled and writhed, but the man's grip was powerful.  Magus felt along Blair's waist, found his knife, and threw it aside.

"Come on," Magus called to the staircase.  "Come out with your hands up, or watch his brains splatter. You must have some fondness for him, if he's in such good condition."

"J-J-I-im," Blair struggled to say through the chokehold, as Magus pulled him back into the lab.  He wanted this man to understand that one of the men he was taunting was his son.

Jim appeared at the foot of the staircase, his hands in the air, one holding his pistol.  "Dad," he said levelly.

"Jim?" Magus said.  Then, happily, "It is you, Jimmy."

Jim approached.  "Let him go, Dad."

Magus snorted.  "My son, a slave owner."  He was still pulling Blair backwards.  "Put the gun down."

His attitude toward Jim sure changed fast, Blair thought worriedly.

Jim put the gun on the floor and kicked it away.  "He's not a slave," he said, slowly approaching.  "That's just a ruse.  He and I are agents of the Empire."

"Stop right there!" Magus commanded.

Jim stopped.

Magus also stopped, laughing sharply.  "Yes, Jimmy, you always were the proper, upstanding one.  Now serving the Empire in its most esteemed profession."  His voice hardened as he pressed the metal sharply against Blair's head, making him wince.  "Where's the other one?  I swear I'll kill him."

"Don't, Dad," Jim said softly.  "He's the love of my life."

Magus sneered, "I should have known. There was never anything normal about you, Jimmy.  I had hope for Stephen, but a little laboratory accident a month ago took him from me."  Magus shouted toward the staircase, "Come out, the third man!  My instruments showed there were three of you."

Simon came out with his hands up.

Magus snorted.  "Of course.  The Empress's favorite assassin.  Seems tonight was to be the night of my death."  He looked back toward Jim.  "You would kill your own father?"  His tone seemed resigned to the answer.

"He had nothing to do with my assignment," Simon put in urgently, stepping farther away from Jim and giving Magus a larger area to cover.  "He followed me here without knowing what I was going to do."

"I didn't know Magus was you, Dad," Jim stated with controlled calm.  Then, grimly, "What the hell are you creating here?"

"Something I doubt you would understand," Magus replied.  He turned the gun toward Simon.  "We'll see who dies tonight."

Blair thought that with three against one, Magus should be easy to bring down.  But Jim and Simon were worried about him being in harm's way, preventing them from making a move.  Despite Jim's calm, he knew Magus's identity had to be affecting whatever strategy Jim might normally use in a situation like this.

His knife was just a few feet away, where Magus had tossed it.

"How could you invent something so evil, Dad?" Jim asked, stepping closer.  "That's capable of such destruction?"

"You always followed the rules, Jimmy.  You could never think of better ways to live, beyond following the orders of your superiors in the Empress's army.  But the Empire is poison, I tell you.  The world will be a better place when it's brought down."

"The Empire is far from perfect," Jim said, taking another step forward, "but its flaws are nothing compared to the death and destruction you'll cause with your explosive."

"Stop right there!" Magus said to Simon, for he had inched still farther away from Jim.

Simon stopped.

To Jim, Magus said, "So you heard all of that."  Brief chuckle. "You always did have good hearing."

"How are you going to end this?" Simon asked.  "I know I'm expendable, but are you going to kill your own son?"

Blair realized he was being pulled backwards once again, away from his knife.  He felt air from a doorway at his back, where the Magus's visitor hadn't firmly closed it.  He also realized that the grip on his throat was loosening.

Abruptly, Blair went limp, which caused Magus to lose his grip, and he dropped to the floor.  Blair kicked him and scurried over to the knife.  Jim and Simon rushed toward Magus, who turned his pistol on Jim.

NOOO.  Horrified, Blair rushed at Magus and plunged the knife into his side.  He heard the gun go off just as Magus collapsed, the bullet ricocheting off the floor.

On instinct, Blair pulled the knife back out and gasped at the blood that flooded from the wound.  

Jim dove for the gun that fell out of Magus' hand, and Simon collapsed over equipment stacked along the floor.

Blair looked down at Magus, who stared at him with stunned, ice-cold eyes.

"You little bastard," Magus swore.  He staggered to his feet and produced a small pistol from behind him.  He aimed it at Jim, who had stuck the other gun in front of his belt.  Now Jim raised his hands.

"I'm sorry it had to be like this," Magus said sorrowfully, cocking the small pistol.

Full of anger at what Magus was willing to do -- twice -- Blair gripped his bloodied knife and rushed him.  Magus staggered backwards in surprise, dropped the pistol, and tried to ward off Blair's killing blow.  Blair's determination was such that he plunged the knife into Magus a second time -- in the belly -- and they both went flying out the open door to the terrace outside, the railing unable to stop to their momentum.

The next thing Blair knew, they were falling.

"BLAIR!"  Jim rushed to the door, Simon behind him.  His eyesight kicked in even he heard a loud splash. "They're in the water.  We've got to get him."

Simon reached to the ledge of the terrace.  "Here's a rope ladder."

Jim didn't remember climbing down it.  He just knew he jumped the last five rungs to the small pier between the castle and the moat.  "Blair!  Chief!"  

His eyesight picked out his father first, who was closest to the ladder.  Magus wasn't moving.  Jim pulled at him and dialed up sight to search the water.   He spotted Blair weakly clawing against a boulder at the water's edge.

"Over by that rock," he said to Simon, who had joined him.  

Simon raced to where Jim was pointing.

Jim pulled his father from the water.  My father.  

No feelings came forth.

The man was dead.  He was still bleeding from the two wounds, the knife having been lost in the water.

Jim went over to where Simon was heaving Blair up into his arms, Blair's head and shoulders hanging limp

"I've got him, Jim," Simon said softly.  "Let's get him inside.  He's freezing."

Jim crushed the urge to tend to his mate, knowing that getting him to a warm, safe place was the most important thing at the moment.  He went to the nearest door. "I wonder why we haven't seen any servants."

"They aren't here tonight," Simon said.  He didn't reveal how he knew that.

They crossed through the kitchen by the light of a low lamp hanging from the ceiling.  "To the left, down that hall," Simon directed.

Jim glanced back at him.

Seemingly unburdened by Blair's limp body, Simon said, "Studying the castle's layout was part of my preparation."

After following Simon's directions, they arrived in a large living room with a huge fireplace.  

"Lay him down here," Jim said, throwing the nearby wood into the fireplace, and grabbing a lantern to light it.

"I'll find some blankets," Simon said, rising to his feet.

Jim patted at Blair's cold face.  "Blair?  Blair?"

No response, but he could feel a weak pulse.

He rubbed briskly at Blair's body.  It would do little good with the wet clothes, so he started taking them off.  Once the coat was free, he tore at Blair's shirt.

Simon appeared with blankets.

"Help me undress him," Jim said.

Between the two of them, they had Blair naked in a few minutes.  His body was scraped and bruised, but the injuries looked minor.  Jim grabbed the two blankets and, with Simon's help, wrapped Blair completely until only his head was uncovered.

Jim looked at Simon hopefully.  "Can you find something to heat up some water in, and some cloths for compresses?"

Simon moved off.

"Blair?" Jim rubbed firmly at his body through the blankets.  "Come on, Blair.  I need you to wake up for me, Chief."

Blair made a little noise.

"That's it," Jim soothed while still rubbing.  "It's all over now.  You can open your eyes."

Blair's eyes didn't open.

Simon appeared carrying a large kettle, which he placed on a grill over the burning logs.  He dumped the rags into it.  "How he's doing?"

"He's not fully alert yet."

"He was really cold," Simon said.  "I think he was still conscious until I reached for him.  Then he just collapsed when I grabbed him."

"He trusted that you were going to take care of him," Jim said.

Simon said in a low voice, "I take it Magus is dead?"

"Yeah," Jim said simply.

"Jim, I'm so sorry.  I can't imagine - "

Jim looked up and met Simon's eye.  "It's all right."

Simon gazed at him a long time.  Then he nodded.  "I guess his 'guest' must have left before the shooting started.  That's why there weren't any servants around.  He dismisses them when he has visitors to see his 'invention'."

Jim's hands were rubbing along Blair's legs.  "More of your research?"

"Yes," Simon admitted.  "I've been stalking Magus since before I met you and Blair.  There were a lot of rumors that led me to a lot of dead ends. Then, when I got to Calliso a few days ago, I had to be careful about how I planned it."

Simon reached to dip his hand into the water over the fire.  "It's just lukewarm now.  Give it another minute or two."  He sat back.  "Did you and Blair complete your mission in Matta?"

Jim looked up at him.  "You were our mission."

Simon blinked. "What?"

"Premier Rachkin's staff told us that our mission was to find out if you were loyal to the Empire.  They said that you were supposed to gather secret information, but they were suspicious that you were instead a double agent and actually selling information.  I assume that was a lie, since you say you've always been an assassin for the Empire."

"The last ten years," Simon muttered.

Jim shook his head, hating the feeling of distrust that seeped through him.  "Why would they lie to us?"

Simon shrugged thoughtfully.  "Maybe they thought that by putting you on the trail of 'selling information', it might lead you to Magus anyway.  I've never had reason to doubt that the Empire has had anything other than complete faith in me.  I'm good at what I do."

Jim stopped rubbing Blair's legs and exhaled a heavy breath.  What if....  "Then I wonder if they knew Magus was my father, and they were testing my loyalty."

"Could be," Simon said.  "You and Blair are new, after all."  He dipped his hand back into the kettle.  "It's plenty warm now."  He dug out a handful of rags and wrung them out.  "Where do you want to put them?  Behind his neck?"

"Yes," Jim replied.  "And beneath his armpits, but keep him covered up.  Hand me one."

Jim took the heated cloth that Simon gave him.  He ran his fingers along the blanket near Blair's waist until he found an opening.  He had to feel through a few layers of wrapped coverings until he finally felt the nudity of Blair's body.  He felt for the genitalia, then pressed the cloth there.

Blair made a noise and Jim heard his increased heartbeat.

Jim straightened, removing his hand from the cloth, and laid it on Blair's blanket-covered shoulder.  "It's all right, Chief.  I'm just applying heat to where your body will absorb it the fastest."

Blair swallowed and his eyes fluttered.

"That's a wonderful sight," Jim smiled at his opening eyes.  "Are you warming up?"

Blair nodded.  "Mmm."

Jim squeezed his shoulder.  "Just lie here and relax and be warm."

Blair looked up, gradually becoming aware of Simon sitting near his head, and smiled.  Then he glanced back at Jim and grief came over his face. "How can you bear to look at me?" he said to Jim, turning his face away, towards the fire, and closing his eyes tightly.

He doesn't deserve this.  Jim laid one hand on Blair's chest and, with the other, took Blair's chin and turned it toward him.  "I can look at you right now because I'm so glad you're here to look at -- and that I'm here to look at you.  If you hadn't done what you did, Chief, my father would have killed me.  Maybe all three of us."

"The look on his face," Blair said in an unsteady voice.  "Like the last thing he'd thought I'd do is...."

"Thankfully, you acted and took him by surprise," Jim said.  

Blair squeezed his eyes shut again.  "He was your father."

"He was a killer.  And he was going to kill again.  Worse, he'd invented something that could kill thousands of people with one explosion."

Simon patted Blair's shoulder.  "Blair, if Jim hadn't found me when he did, I would have killed him."  Then, softly, "I'm sorry I didn't, so that you were forced to instead."

"I'm not," Jim said.  "If you had killed him, Simon, I wouldn't have seen what a hateful, murdering man he was.  He put no value on human life."   As he heard the stark reality of his words, he whispered, "Not even mine."  The old pain was back.  Why did both my parents find me so unworthy?

"Maybe he wouldn't have really pulled the trigger," Blair said shakily.

"We couldn't have taken that chance," Simon said.  "If you wait until after the fact, Blair, to make a split-second decision, it's likely you won't be around to make it at all."

Blair looked away.

Jim reached inside the top of the blankets, until he found a lukewarm cloth against Blair's armpit.  "Would you like me to re-heat these?"

Blair shook his head, still turned away.

He seemed warm enough, except for his wet hair, so Jim believed him and started removing the compresses, so they couldn't turn cold and reverse their intent.

Simon got to his feet.  "I'm going to see what they have around here for accommodations.  We may as well stay here tonight, but we've got to leave at dawn before the servants or anyone else arrives."  

"The Empire doesn't like taking responsibility for its own actions?" Jim muttered.

"You know it would destroy the whole point of secrecy," Simon said, moving off.

Yes, Jim did know that.  If they left his father's body here, then it might be assumed that his visitor was the one who had killed him.  Whatever force served for law or vengeance here would be going after an innocent man.  But how innocent is a man who had interest in such a weapon?

Blair released a shaky breath, which Jim knew wasn't from cold.  He rolled Blair toward him, on his side, and laid Blair's hair out toward the fire.  "Let the heat dry your hair," he said gently.

Blair didn't fight him, but he kept his eyes shut.

Jim wondered at his own lack of feeling.  What he felt most -- if he felt anything at all -- was relief.  All his adult life, he'd looked back at his childhood and wondered if he had somehow imagined all the bad memories.  This was proof that he hadn't.  He was validated that he did the right thing by leaving home as soon as he was of age, and having mostly angry memories of his father.

Still, he'd never imagined his father capable of being such a monster.  How long had the Empress known?  He was starting to realize that he did have feelings about that -- angry feelings of being used as a pawn, when he had thought he and Blair were being sent on a mission to do something important.

Of course, getting rid of the creator of a weapon such as his father talked about was important, too -- however it was achieved.

When Simon appeared again, he said, "There's a bedroom just off the hall there.  I've got a fire started and the covers pulled back."

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder.  "Chief, we're going to move you.  I don't want you to do anything, because we want to keep you wrapped up."  He looked up at Simon.  "Get his feet."

Blair was silent as they lifted him and carried him into the bedroom that, while small, had a canopy bed with the covers pulled back on the side closest to the fireplace.  They laid Blair on the bed, and Simon threw the covers over him while Jim sat down beside him.

Simon said, "I'm going to look around in the kitchen.  I know how to make a concoction that will put him to sleep, if I can find the right ingredients."

Jim nodded as Simon moved off.  He was worried about the way Blair had closed in on himself, but he also didn't want to disturb whatever rest he was getting by making him talk.

A few minutes later, Blair's body shook beneath the covers and he began to cry dry sobs.

Jim closed his eyes, each sob squeezing around his heart.  He wanted to comfort Blair, but he knew that Blair didn't want his sympathy.  He found solace in the belief that this expression of grief and anguish had to be an improvement over the vacant stare he'd seen in the eyes of rookie soldiers.

Jim did place his hand on the blankets that covered Blair's back, needing that comfort for himself.  The only movement was that Blair curled into a tighter ball, which was partially restricted by the layer of blankets he was wrapped in.

The broken noises of anguish had become farther apart when Simon's footsteps were heard on the hardwood floor.  He entered with a small bowl and spoon and knelt on the floor in front of Blair.  "Blair, Jim's not going to be able to rest for tomorrow unless you do.  I need you to drink this so that you both can sleep."

Blair didn't say anything, but his sad eyes opened and gazed at the fire.

While Simon scooped out a spoonful of the concoction, he looked over Blair's head to meet Jim's eyes.  Jim nodded to show his approval that focusing on Jim's needs was what worked best with Blair.

"Open up," Simon said, holding the spoon.

Blair raised his head slightly, opened his mouth, and Simon inserted the spoon.

Blair swallowed without reacting.

"One more," Simon said.  He gave Blair another dose then put the bowl aside.  He stood, reaching down to squeeze Blair's shoulder.  "Sleep, kid, and you'll have a different perspective on this in the morning."  

Blair laid his head down on the pillow, still facing the fire.

Jim moved then, spooning up behind him, wanting the familiarity of their usual sleeping arrangement to speed Blair along into slumber.

In a quieter voice, Simon asked, "Are your horses here?"

"No," Jim replied.  "We weren't sure what to expect, so we tied them to a tree near the edge of the road, about a half mile out.  They're still saddled and tightly girthed."

Simon nodded.  "I'll get my horse and go get them.  They'll be able to rest for a few hours in the stables here, before we head out in the morning."

Feeling bad for leaving Simon to the task, Jim said, "You need to get your rest, too, Simon."

The dark head shook.  "I've rested plenty the past few days, while waiting for the ideal opportunity to come here."  He glanced at Blair.  "Stay with the kid."

Jim awoke from a light doze when hearing Simon's footsteps out in the living room.  He did a sensory sweep of Blair and was satisfied that he was in a deep, drug-induced sleep.

While quietly getting out of bed, Jim looked at the clock over the fireplace.  It was half past midnight.

After putting more logs on the fire, he approached the living room.  Simon was throwing some rolled up papers into the fire.  "What are you doing?" Jim asked.

Simon glanced back at him.  "Burning all the schematics for the bomb."

Jim knelt beside him.  "That's not exactly part of the mission, is it?"

"No."  Simon didn't look at him but kept throwing in more papers.  "In fact, I think the Empress and her staff would be mighty impressed if I brought this stuff back to them."  He glanced at Jim with a hard expression.  "Nobody needs this kind of knowledge."

There were a couple of large boxes next to the fireplace.  To show his agreement, Jim grabbed some more of the papers and threw them into the fire. 

"How's the kid?" Simon asked, relaxing.

"Sleeping the sleep of the dead. I hope you knew what you were doing with that concoction."  They both continued to burn papers.

"I do.  I've used it enough times over the years when I've had too much on my mind to sleep.  The down side is that it'll leave him groggy in the morning, but it can't be helped.  It will take a good twelve to eighteen hours to work out of his system."

"Did you find the explosive?" Jim asked.

"Yes.  He just had a prototype. I've worked with bombs before, and from looking at his schematics I was able to cut some wires and render it useless.  Then I threw it into the moat."

"Good."

Simon's voice was softer.  "I'm sorry Sandburg is taking this all so hard.  Doesn't he realize that he made the only choice possible?"

"It doesn't matter," Jim replied in an equally soft tone.  "Blair can't think in terms of black-and-white.  Nothing is ever simple with him."

Simon snorted.  "If I had to examine my conscience every time I defended my life, well...." he trailed off.

"He values all life, Simon."  

"That could get him killed some day."

"Not if I can help it.  I would have killed my own father to allow Blair to live, if it came to that."

"Maybe if he's away from the teachings of the Northern Territory long enough, he'll come around."  Simon grabbed yet another box.

"I'm not sure I want him to, Simon.  My life wasn't worth much when he and I met.  But he valued it, just the same.  To say that I'm grateful...," Jim trailed off, not knowing how to explain it.

Simon glanced at him with a softer expression.  "I admit I'm curious."

Jim grabbed more papers from the new box and threw them into the fire.  And then he began to tell Simon the story of how he and Blair had met and pledged themselves to each other.

When all the papers had been destroyed, Simon said he was going back to the lab and surrounding areas to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

Jim decided to search the private quarters of the castle, in case anything important was stored there.  While he knew Simon assumed he meant documents about the bomb, what Jim was really interested in was any personal papers that his father might have kept from when he was young... or before he was even born.

He found what he was looking for in what was obviously his father's bedroom.  There was a one-foot by two-foot chest full of letters, photographs of people he wasn't sure he knew, and other personal items.  Some he did recognize -- such as various certificates of completion from when he and Stephen had been in school. After carrying the chest down to the living room, he wondered if he should burn its contents and be done with it.

But he couldn't.  He carried it out to the stables and transferred the contents to his saddlebags, and moving what had been in them to Blair's.  All the bags were now stuffed.   He wasn't ready to part with the remnants of his life history just yet.

When he returned, it was almost three am and Simon was burning what little more he had found in the lab.

"What happens now?" Jim asked.

"When the sun comes up, I'll take some pictures of Magus as proof that he's dead.  I'll write a report and have it submitted to the underground office outside of Matta that provides communications for the Empire's agents.  Sometimes, they give me a new mission on the spot.  Other times, they tell me to come home and claim my reward for a job well done."

"We didn't get that far in our discussions with them," Jim admitted.  "What sort of reward do they give?"

"Money.  Time off at a huge estate for a month or two.  All the women and gadgets that I could want."  Simon laughed softly.  "Tell you the truth, I loved all that stuff at first.  But it got old.  I think I'd rather be sent on another mission right away.  I enjoy traveling."  He stopped suddenly, then was amused again.  "I was going to say traveling alone, but I'm not so sure that's my true preference anymore."  He gripped Jim's shoulder.  Then he asked, "What about you?  What's next for you and Blair?"

Jim shook his head.  "I don't know.  It's up to him.  As long as I'm with him, I need nothing else."  He paused, then decided there was no reason to hold back from Simon.  "If he wanted to forget all of this and leave the Empire behind, then that's what we'll do.  We accomplished our mission.  I could leave with a clear conscience."  

Simon snorted.  "That would send the Empress's staff into a frenzy.  They're so used to agents being grateful for their lavish rewards, I'm not sure they've ever had anyone run out on them before."

"We might not," Jim emphasized.  "It's up to Blair."  He studied Simon a moment.  "I don't know what you were planning to report, but you may as well take credit for my father's death.  It doesn't matter which one of us killed him.  That was your mission, not ours."

Simon nodded.  "Yeah, that's how I saw it, too."

Jim rubbed his hand over his face and stood up.  "I'm going to try to sleep for a few hours."

Simon pulled up a plush chair next to the fire.  "So am I."

In the depth of his sleep, Jim was aware of Blair leaving the bed.  His subconscious took inventory of the room around him, and he felt no cause to awaken.

Moments later, he came to consciousness anyway, due to the intrusive noise of a hollow chamber pot being filled.

He let his eyes drift open.  Blair was naked, his shoulders hunched over in the cold of dawn, and standing over the pot, relieving himself.  He was mostly facing Jim, and while his gaze was on his task, Jim could detect his heavily lidded eyes.

Jim wasn't sure how much of Blair's droopy appearance was the drug, and how much was his current state of grief and sorrow.

He could also see the red marks of abrasions along Blair's torso and arms.

When Blair was finished, Jim held the covers open.

Blair's eyes wouldn't meet his as he returned to the bed.  Instead of getting between the sheets, he sat on the edge.

Jim sat up and wrapped the loose blankets from last night around Blair's body.  "Good morning," he whispered gently.  He was undressed himself and feeling the morning's sharp chill.

"Jim?" Simon's voice inquired from the living room.

"Come on in, Simon."

Simon entered with an armful of clothing, his expression changing to one of worry as he glanced at Blair, who wouldn't look up at him.  "We need to get moving. I've got my photographs."

"All right.  We'll be down at the stables in a moment."

Simon laid his bundle at the end of the bed.  "Here're Blair's clothes and coat."

"Thanks."  Jim shrugged helplessly when Simon's worried eyes met his.

"I'll start getting the horses ready."

When Simon left, Jim said, "We have to leave as quickly as possible."

Blair didn't react.

Jim squeezed Blair's rigid shoulder.  "I know you're feeling lousy right now because of the drug.  Let me help you."  He reached past Blair for his clothes.

Nothing.

Jim rested his forehead against Blair's bare shoulder, where the blanket had slipped.  "Don't shut me out, Chief.  I can handle just about anything, except that. Please say something."

An audible swallow.  Then Blair's quiet, ragged voice said, "I love you, Jim."

Jim exhaled a breath of relief against Blair's skin.  "I love you, too.  So much.  I would do anything to take this pain away from you."

"You can't."

"I know."

Jim kissed Blair's neck and then started separating the clothing.  "Please don't fight my help."

Blair didn't.  In fact, he tried to be cooperative -- if somewhat awkwardly -- as Jim dressed him. Since Blair's shirt had been torn, Jim had found one of his father's shirts as a replacement.  He was thankful that Blair didn't ask where it had come from, even though it was large on him.

The grey morning air felt fresh and crisp when they were finally outdoors.  Jim paused on the way to the stables to look back at where the pier was.  A covered body lay upon it.  He felt a morbid need to see it, to get one final look at his father.  He squeezed Blair's arm.  "Stay here."

Blair followed him.

Jim didn't comment.  Besides, with the freezing night air the body should still be in good shape, even all these hours later.  He supposed Blair had his own morbid fascination that he needed to appease.

Jim knelt down and flipped the covering back.  He gazed at the pale lifeless face.  The grey hair.  The open eyes.  The half-open mouth.  My father.

Still, he felt nothing.  Just the relief that the man hadn't caused the harm to so many that he might have, had they not stopped him.

Jim looked at Blair beside him, who was looking down at the body with no expression.

"I need to stay here a while," Blair said in a whisper.

Jim wanted to protest.  He especially didn't want to leave Blair alone.  But he could hardly deny him some private time with the man whose life he had taken.  "All right.  I'll be in the stables.  Come when you're ready."

Simon had all but his own horse saddled.  "There's some fruit there that I got from the kitchen.  Where's Sandburg?"

Jim picked up a plum and bit into it.  "He's with the body."  Jim went to his mare and loosened the girth.  "We're going to ride double on Giant.  That way I can hang onto him.  In his state, he'd probably fall right out of the saddle."

"Maybe I gave him too much of that stuff last night," Simon mused.  "Now that I think about it, I gave him as much as I give myself.  He's a lot smaller, so it probably carried a more powerful kick."

Jim sighed.  "Maybe that's a blessing."  He realized he hadn't given any thought to their destination.  "I assume we're going to the cave north of Matta to meet up with the Empire's underground there?"  He and Blair had memorized a map of such locations when briefed by Premier Rachkins' staff.

"Yes, but we'll stay off the roads.  From what you told me, there's a shopkeeper at least who knows all three of us were headed here.  We need to stay away from any towns for a while, just in case anyone comes looking for us.  I figure we ought to go due east, and then head straight south."

They were ready.  Simon grabbed the reins of Jim's mare.  "I'll hold her reins, since your hands will be full with Sandburg."

Jim mounted Giant and adjusted his stirrups as they left the barn.

Blair was still looking down at the body on the pier.

"Chief," Jim called, "we're ready."

His gaze still lowered, Blair started walking their way.  Then he glanced back while still coming toward them.

It was on the tip of Jim's tongue to tell Blair to cover the body back up.  Then he realized it didn't matter.  The servants should be arriving at any time.

When Blair was within a few feet of Giant, he looked up at Jim, confused.

"We're riding double, Chief.  Simon, can you help him up?"

"Sure thing."  Simon dismounted while Jim scooted behind the saddle.

Blair lifted his foot, and between Simon's boosting and Jim's pulling, they got Blair's lethargic body into the saddle.

Jim handed Blair his half-eaten plum.  "Eat that."

Blair did.

They moved east, against a briskly blowing wind in their faces.  For the first few hours, Blair practically fell asleep, and Jim had to constantly shift him to keep a firm grip.  But as the day wore on, and they stopped to eat some dry beans and cereal and water the horses, Blair began to look more alert. He was still quiet and kept his gaze lowered.  Jim allowed him to ride by himself.

In fact, as Blair's lethargy left him, Jim was becoming aware that anger was replacing it.  When Blair did talk, he spoke in clipped, impatient tones. Simon even teased him with an "Ease up, Sandburg.  We aren't the enemy."  But Blair only drew his coat tighter around him and looked more sullen.

Dinner was a trio of chipmunks.  Thankfully, it hadn't snowed as the clouds had threatened.  In the name of giving his partner necessary information, throughout the day Jim had gradually filled Blair in on what type of agent Simon truly was, and why he had gone to the castle.  Also, he told Blair of the complete destruction of all the documents, and the sinking of the explosive at the bottom of the moat.

Once his meal was finished, Blair scowled at Simon, "You're a professional killer."

Jim restrained a sigh at Blair's confrontational tone.

"I suppose so," Simon replied easily.  

"How can you murder in cold blood like that?"

"I don't consider it cold blood," Simon replied, tossing another branch into the fire.  "If the Empress's staff considers a man a threat to the Empire -- maybe -- and especially if they think that man might have useful information, they have agents, or sometimes the army if it's an enemy the Empire is currently fighting, capture that man and bring him in for questioning.  Questioning usually means gruesome torture, in which case, at the end, they may find out the man really isn't a foe, or that he has no information to offer."

Simon drew a breath.  "But in the case of a man who all the Empire's intelligence sources have already decided is a heavy threat to the Empire, they call in an assassin such as myself.  I stalk the man, and then I put a bullet in his head so that he never knows what hit him."

Blair accused, "You don't let him see his killer."

"No," Simon agreed.  "But I dispose of him quickly, efficiently, and painlessly.  It is a far greater kindness than befalls those who are brought in for questioning.  But more importantly, I am saving hundreds, if not thousands, of lives within the Empire from being destroyed by that man."

"What if the man isn't really guilty of any wrongdoing?" Blair challenged.  "You've then taken an innocent life."

Simon shook his head with a laugh.  "Sandburg, I may be too cynical to think much of the individuals who make up Premier Rachkins' staff, but one thing I do have absolute confidence in is their network of intelligence.  A man must have proven himself, without a doubt, to be a dangerous enemy of the Empire before they call in an assassin like me."

"How many have you killed?" Blair demanded.

"A lot.  I've never failed at a mission."  Simon suddenly hesitated, then softened his voice. "Except I wouldn't have killed Magus after Jim said he was his father.  That called for a different set of rules."

Jim's felt warmth go through him.

"True friends are rare," Simon continued.  "I don't kill people who are important to friends of mine.  But the minute Magus put that gun to your head, Blair, that changed the rules yet again."  Simon suddenly chuckled.  "Heh.  Heh.  I'd always thought I saw the world as black-and-white.  I just now realized that my morals are probably as complicated as yours are, Blair."

Jim grinned at Simon.  Then he gently said to Blair, "I think it's a pointless exercise to judge the moralities of others, when they've proven themselves to be good men.  Doesn't Bree teach something like that?"

Blair's jaw firmed.  "I'm not sure I believe in Bree anymore."  He stood and moved off.

Jim's heart raced as his mouth fell open.  Oh, no.  He couldn't share Blair's belief, but the last thing he would have wanted was for Blair to lose his faith.

Jim scrambled to his feet.  "Blair."

He didn't have to be a sentinel to hear the terse, "Leave me alone, Jim."

Jim shifted in his furs yet again.  It had to be near midnight and Blair still hadn't come to bed.  Repeated sensory sweeps had revealed that Blair was in no danger. But the fact of the matter was that Jim couldn't sleep without the presence of his mate.

He listened enviously to Simon's snoring as he slipped his nude body out of his warm cocoon and grabbed one of the furs to drape around his shoulders.  He found Blair within ten minutes.  He was sitting on a rock, looking up at the star-filled sky.

"I didn't want you to come for me," Blair said firmly.

"I didn't want to," Jim replied.  "I know it's selfish, but I can't sleep when you aren't with me."

Softer, Blair reminded, "You also can't sleep when I'm with you and have things on my mind."

That was true enough.  Jim stepped close to Blair and slung part of his fur around him.  Wanting to think happier thoughts, he said, "Do you realize that, ever since we first held each other in Sanctuary, we've never slept apart?"

Blair swallowed and looked at him.  "Sanctuary seems like a long time ago, doesn't it?"

Jim nodded, not sure where Blair was going with that.

"A more innocent time," Blair provided.

Jim sighed.  "Chief, don't think badly of Simon because of what the Empire assigns him to do.  I've pointed my rifle at a man twenty yards away and shot him -- without him ever knowing I was there.  You can't judge Simon by a different set of rules than you judge me."

"I know," Blair said softly, looking up at the stars.

"Have you really lost your faith?"

Blair's gaze lowered.  "I'm definitely questioning it.  I mean, why would Bree arrange it so you and I can meet, all so we can be agents for the Empire, and then have our first assignment turn out like this?"  His voice became ragged on the last.  

Grasping at straws, Jim said, "Maybe it was a test."

"Bree doesn't test us," Blair replied firmly.  "He loves all of us.  We don't have to prove anything to Him."

"But you're angry at Him," Jim pointed out.

"I'm angry at myself," Blair corrected.  He scoffed, pushing his hair back.  "I mean, what was I thinking?  I could join up with you, travel to far away lands, and not have to deal with plunging my knife into your very own father -- twice?"

Jim knew it would do no good to reiterate that Blair had done the only thing possible.  Instead, he asked, "What do you want to do from here, once we've completed our business with the underground?"

Blair was silent, looking at the ground.

Jim prodded, "We could head east and leave all of this behind.  We might find greater horrors.  Or we might find great places and ways of life that I've heard some soldiers speak of, who have heard stories passed down for generations.  Or, we could go back, visit your Mom, let her know you're all right."  He paused uncomfortably.  "I know you probably have questions you want to ask her about your father."

"I don't know."  Blair looked up at him.  "I want to go to the ocean.  I have to spend some time there and try to reconnect with Bree.  Maybe you shouldn't go with me, because I'll want to be alone.  It could take days."

Jim felt relief go through him.  It was all going to be all right.  Blair was trying.

"I can leave you alone," he said, "but just be close enough that my senses will know that you're safe."  He shifted uncomfortably.  "Blair, I found some things of my father's -- personal things, letters and such -- from back when I was young and before my birth.  I want to go through them.  I can do that while you're... 'reconnecting'."

Blair looked at Jim with compassion and squeezed his hand.  "You want to know about your mother."

"Yes."  Jim felt his throat tighten.  He added, "And also how my father came to be the man he was.  I only knew him to care about his money.  He only tinkered with his inventions when I was a child.   They were all harmless things. I never would have imagined him capable of dreaming up such a powerful explosive, let alone carrying it through.  He must have once been powerful in the Empire, if he recognized Simon as an assassin."  Jim just then realized that he was convinced the Empire had purposely sent him after his own father -- perhaps to prove his and Blair's loyalty to the Empire, as well as to rid Rachkins' staff of any doubt about Simon's loyalty, and to rid the Empire of the threat of Magus's bomb.

Three birds with one stone, he silently scoffed.  But Blair was what was important now

Blair had merely nodded his acceptance of Jim's desire to know more about his parents.

Jim's hand returned Blair's squeeze.  "It's beautiful out here, Chief."  He glanced at the stars.  "But my feet are freezing.  Let's go back."

Blair stood, but when he looked up at Jim his eyes were full of moisture.  "I won't sleep.  Every time I blink, I see Magus -- your father's -- expression when I first stabbed him."

Jim raised his hand and brushed a few strands of hair away from Blair's face.  "It'll get better, Blair.  It will.  I've been haunted by those faces, too.  It takes time -- and there's nothing that can hurry it -- but it does get better, as your life begins to fill with other things."

He stepped closer to Blair and placed his hands on Blair's sides, beneath the fur.  "I can at least take your mind off that image for a short time."  He bent his head and kissed Blair's lips.

Blair gazed up at him for a long moment.  Then he frowned.  "I don't feel desire."

Jim wasn't surprised.  "You don't have to," he assured.  "Just let me kiss you and pet you and love you.  You don't need to respond.  Only to relax."  

He clasped Blair's hand and led the way back.

A few inches of snow covered the forest floor when they halted before a large cave mouth three days later.

"This is it," Simon said, dismounting.

"Where is everybody?" Blair asked.   He and Jim also dismounted.

"They'll come in a moment," Simon said.  "They have sensors and cameras.  They saw us arrive."

Blair looked around in amazement.  "Where?  How can they do that?"

Simon grinned.  "It's top secret technology.   Ask and they'll just look down their nose at you."

A man in army fatigues appeared.  "Simon Banks," he said, shaking hands.

"How are you, Colonel?" Simon greeted.  He gestured to Jim and Blair.  "I'd like you to meet the Empire's two newest agents, Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg."

The Colonel reached to shake each of their hands.  "Yes.  We've gotten their files.  I take it you've all completed your recent missions?"

Simon handed him a satchel of papers.  "Our two missions blended into one.  Here are our reports."

"Very well," the Colonel accepted them.  He took out a small satchel and handed it to Simon.  "Your next mission."

"Very good," Simon said, tucking the satchels away.

Blair gulped.  Inside that satchel was the identity of the next man Simon was going to murder.  And prevent perhaps thousands of other deaths, he tried to console himself.

"What about us?" Jim asked.

The Colonel turned to him.  "The word is that you can head home.  But check in at Port Orchard to make sure any new assignments haven't come through in the meantime."

Jim said, "We aren't necessarily heading right home."

"Then check into the closest underground station at least once every two weeks."

Jim nodded.

"That is all, gentlemen.  Good day to you."  The Colonel disappeared into the cave.

Blair's recollection was that the underground stations only existed up to a hundred miles east of where they were.  Beyond that... they would be completely free of the Empire.

They were all looking at each other.  "That was fast," Blair finally said.

Simon chuckled.  "They don't like agents hanging around the caves.  It gives the location too much exposure."

Jim sighed.  "So, Simon, I guess you're off."

"I guess so.  Remember, keep heading south and after about a week you'll hit the beach.  It's a pretty isolated area."

"That's exactly what we're looking for," Jim said, holding out his hand.

Simon shook it.  "I hope most sincerely that we have reason to meet again."

"So do we."  Jim squeezed Simon's arm, then moved to his horse.

Simon turned to Blair.  "Blair," he said, offering his hand, "take care of yourself."

Blair nodded and shook Simon's hand.  Then he yielded to his urges and wrapped his arms around the larger man.  "Goodbye, Simon.  Take care."

Simon made a bashful noise and seemed relieved when Blair finally released him.  "You, too, son."

Simon mounted his horse, kicked it, and galloped away without a backwards glance.

"I miss him already," Blair said as he and Jim remounted.
 
"Yeah," Jim agreed.

They turned their horses south.

END PART FOUR

EPILOGUE

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