HOPE CREATES
© October 2003 by Charlotte Frost

PART TWO
 

Blair felt increasing unease as they approached the town of Simba three days later. Normally, approaching a town where they intended to spend a night in a hotel was something to look forward to, because he and Jim usually indulged in a bath, then made love more slowly and thoroughly than usual.

Now, Blair wasn't sure that he was ready to make love. He knew that Jim understood; yet, he still felt flustered for allowing his hours of captivity with the raiders to have such a strong effect on his psyche. He knew that the longer he waited, the greater the sense of dread that the bad memories would dominate their bed when he and Jim were intimate for the first time since his kidnapping.

Blair's trepidation only increased, knowing that tonight, after they were bathed and in a comfortable hotel room, there would be some expectation - on his part and probably Jim's - to finally confront the problem.

A part of him wished they could simply bypass the town but inquiring of everyone they met during their travel had revealed that a good artisan worked in Simba. Such a craftsman was necessary to create the armband that Blair would wear, which would match a belt ornament of the same colors that would be worn by his "master", Jim.

A part of Blair wished he could be angry about the slave role he would need to play, if only as a distraction from his dread of when he and Jim would bed down at an inn. But he couldn't find any such anger. He understood too well how his role as a slave would be both a protection and a potential tool for gathering information, since most wouldn't expect him to be attentive to matters concerning anything other than his master.

The only anger he felt was the assumption that so many had, even in this part of the world, that Blair was a slave, merely from his physical appearance.

As they headed to the livery stable in town, a nicely dressed woman smiled at Jim as they passed, and Blair watched as Jim blushed. Surely, the woman wasn't wed, to behave in such a manner toward a stranger. Thankfully, their horses walked quickly by, as though sensing the nearness of the livery stable, which meant fresh bedding, roomy stalls, and sweet grain with their hay.

On the other side of the street Blair saw a house of prostitution. Sex all around, he thought glumly.

After leaving their horses at the stable, they had a hearty meal. Simon excused himself to make inquiries regarding his own mission, while Jim and Blair indulged in a bath and more thorough shaves than they could do on the road. They got a room for the night as dusk fell.

Blair took off his boots and lay back on top of the covers, his clothes still on. He closed his eyes, hoping to give the impression that he was ready to fall asleep.

Jim sat down on Blair's side of the bed and squeezed his shoulder. "You looked bushed. Why don't you stay here and rest, and I'll go track down the craftsman we heard about."

Blair preferred to go with Jim. He didn't want to stay in this strange room - alone. But he couldn't back out of his pretense of being ready to fall asleep. "All right."

Jim leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Sleep well."

---

Blair only dozed lightly, even after getting undressed and under the covers. After many hours passed, he knew that Jim couldn't still be looking for the artisan. If he hadn't found him by now, it surely made more sense to wait until morning.

Blair could think of only one reason Jim would be away this long at night.

He'd gone to the house of prostitution that they'd seen upon their arrival. Or maybe he'd found that smiling woman on the street again. Either destination would meet his needs, since Blair hadn't been giving him the pleasure that they used to share so regularly. Blair wouldn't even have objected to pleasuring Jim without reciprocation but Jim wouldn't want to ask that of him. So, thinking he was doing Blair a favor by not pressuring him, he had gone elsewhere to satisfy his urges.

As Blair lay in bed, a tear trickled down his face. He knew he should be stronger than this; that a life of new people, places and adventures was inevitably going to have some painful repercussions to balance the excitement, lack of day-to-day responsibilities, and joyful new discoveries.

He wanted to be mad at Jim but he couldn't. Jim's love was so strong. Even his physical infidelity, which would not touch his heart - for that belonged only to Blair - was intended as a kindness to Blair.

Blair could only be mad at himself.

Finally, he heard the key in the lock and he listened as Jim entered.

A part of him wished he had Jim's gift, as he dilated his nostrils and tried to detect any foreign scents as Jim moved around to the other side of the bed, undressing.

A hand rested on Blair's head. Jim's gentle, satisfied voice asked, "Did I wake you?"

Of course, Jim would have been able to tell that he wasn't asleep. "Just a little," Blair murmured. He rolled fully onto his side and closed his eyes.

When Jim got into bed moments later and pulled Blair close to him so he could curl around him, Blair made no attempt to respond or touch him. Instead, taking in the comfort of their familiar sleeping arrangement, he allowed himself to fall deeply asleep.

---

Having rested more than he needed, Blair was up first the next morning. As he finished dressing, he asked Jim, who was lounging in bed, "Did you find the artisan?"

Jim lay with his hands behind his head. "Yes. He said to come by at two and he'd hopefully be finished. I told him I'd pay him extra, if he were. He said he would work on it through the night and all day."

Blair merely nodded. While he started his work last night, where were you, Jim?  He didn't want to be angry, but he was.

Or maybe hurt was a better word.

A knock sounded. "It's Simon," the familiar deep voice called.

Blair let him in. "Good morning, Simon."

"Good morning," Simon said as he entered. "I've got a lead on my mark. I need to head out."

Blair felt relief and then was ashamed of himself for feeling that way. He owed Simon nothing but gratitude. But he hadn't felt comfortable around him, ever since Simon had found him as the newest entertainment of the raider tribe.

Jim sat up at the edge of the bed, the covers around his lap. "I guess this is good-bye then. At least, for now."

"Only for now," Simon said, holding out his hand. "Let's hope we meet again soon, my friends."  He shook Jim's hand.

He turned to Blair and put his arm loosely around his shoulders. "I hope you get better, Blair."

"I will," Blair promised. Obviously, Simon knew there was something wrong, since there had been no nightly activity in their bedroll. He forced himself to overcome his hesitation and give Simon the briefest of hugs around his waist.

Simon placed his hat upon his head. "I'll be off."

"Goodbye, Simon," Blair said.

"Take care."

They both watched the closed door for an extended moment. Then Jim said, "We need to gather more supplies but that should only take a couple of hours. Is there anything you wanted to do while we're here?  I'm hoping, if the artisan is finished by two, that we can get several miles down the road before dark."  Their next destination was still probably eight to ten days away.

Blair nodded. He didn't look at Jim when he said, "I noticed some shops with wares from far-away places. I'd like to look around some."

"Go ahead. I can take care of the supplies myself, if you'd like."

Blair silently wavered. A part of him wanted to be alone, but another part wanted very much to be with Jim. Yet, if he was with him, he knew that Jim would pick up on his sour mood. Or had Jim picked up on it already and that's why he suggested that they spend some of the day apart?

"All right," Blair said, grateful that his tone was normal.

Jim got up and pulled on his clothes. "Let's get a good breakfast first."

---

Most of the shops did have very intriguing merchandise. Blair bought new clothes for himself, then spent a long time browsing. But his enjoyment was tempered by his thoughts of Jim and where Jim had been last night.

When they met up around noon, Blair helped Jim arrange their new belongings in their saddlebags. They eventually tacked up their horses and headed to the artisan, who was located a half mile outside of town.

"I hope he finished," Jim said. "Otherwise, we'll just have to return to town and spend the night there again."

The horses surely wouldn't mind, Blair thought. Normally, he would have spoken the comment out loud. But he found himself reluctant to say much of anything. In fact, while Jim led the way, Blair kept Giant slightly behind Red's shorter but more energetic strides to discourage conversation.

They dismounted at a cabin surrounded by trees. After tying their horses, they went inside.

"Ah," the silver-haired man said, "you're here right when you said you would be."

"Did you finish?" Jim asked hopefully.

"Yes."  With pride, the man said, "I think you'll be happy with the result."  He turned to a shelf behind him and pulled off an armband made of small beads imbedded in leather. He laid it on the counter. Next to it, he placed the small decoration that would be worn on a belt. It had the same design.

Blair stepped closer and studied the armband. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the bright colors of the beads. Then he realized what he was looking at - a school of dolphins, splashing in the water.

His throat closed. Freedom. Jim had remembered what Blair had told him about the meaning of dolphins.

The man placed a piece of paper next to the items. The paper had a crude sketch of the dolphin scene. It was labeled "Armband and belt piece."  Blair recognized the writing - it was Jim's.

This is what Jim had been doing last night - trying to sketch the design that he wanted. It was the only time Jim could have done the sketch, for it was the only time he was away from Blair since they'd talked to Simon about Blair's pretending to be Jim's prized slave.

Blair's eyes watered - from awe at Jim's choice of design, from relief at what Jim hadn't been doing the night before, and from his own disgust at himself for having so little trust in the man he loved more than anything.

"It's very beautiful," Jim said, then looked at Blair for comment.

Blair nodded, unable to speak.

"I'm very pleased," Jim said, taking out his wallet. He paid the man a large sum, which the man expressed sincere gratitude for. He grabbed the two purchases and took Blair by the arm, leading the way out of the building.

Blair knew he had to tell Jim what he'd been erroneously thinking. It was going to hurt him.

"Over here," Jim said eagerly, leading Blair to a large, shady tree to the right of the cabin. He held the armband and the belt insignia in each of his hands. "To others, these signify that I am a master and you are my prized slave."  He waited until Blair looked up at him. Then he said, more softly, "To us, these will be symbols of our unity."

Blair swallowed audibly and nodded. He felt tears gathering, and he didn't know if it was from the tremendous love that Jim had for him, or for the hurt he knew he was going to inflict.

Jim bent and placed his soft lips over Blair's.

It felt so good.

Blair flung himself away, stumbling to his knees.

"Blair, what?  What is it?"  Jim's hand was on his shoulder, as he knelt beside him.

Blair couldn't bear the misplaced concern. In a trembling voice, he confessed, "I thought you were with a woman last night."  His gaze was on the ground.

"What?"  

"I thought...."  Blair trailed off, letting his first statement sink in.

"What?" Jim asked again, this time in disbelief. Then, hard and accusing, "How could you?"

"I'm sorry," Blair cried, squeezing his eyes shut. "I should have known better. I'm so sorry."  He tried to stifle his tears, even as he wanted nothing more than to throw himself at Jim and be soothed by him.

Too much silence passed. "Forgive me," Blair pleaded in a small voice.

Jim collapsed back to the ground with a heavy sigh. "I don't understand...."

Blair quickly shook his head, his eyes still on the ground. "I don't either. I-I was afraid that you went elsewhere, because you knew I... couldn't... show my love... after what happened...."

"Blair."  This time the word was full of compassion.

Blair felt Jim's arms come around him. He eagerly turned into them, pressing himself against Jim. The tears dried suddenly but he felt a desperate need to hold on. "I don't know how I could have thought that," he shuddered. "But I did."

Jim stroked his hair. "Like I didn't know how I could have ever thought you'd just up and leave me?"

Blair made the connection at how similar their misassumptions had been, when each had been left alone with his fears about the other. When another sob burst from him, it was partially a laugh at their mutual absurdity.

Jim squeezed him tighter and then sat back so he could look into Blair's eyes. "You show me love every moment of every day. Just by being you. You are in my heart, always."

Blair hugged him again. "I know I own your heart but I was afraid that since I wasn't pleasuring you...."

Once again, Jim separated them. His fingers brushed across Blair's lower eyelid. "Being with someone else never meant anything to me before I met you; I can't imagine how it could ever possibly be anything I'd want now. I'd much rather go without."

Blair realized he should have known that. Jim had only occasionally visited army whores before he'd met Blair. He'd never had a relationship, nor had he expressed any interest in ever having one.

Now a smile spread across Jim's face. "Chief, it's only been a few days. I assure you that I've gone much, much longer than that. We've even gone longer than that."

That was true. Blair smiled back. But he said, "It's just that I feel I shouldn't let what happened affect me. I'm afraid that, if we do it, I'll think of them and being in that tent."

"I know."  Jim placed his hand on Blair's shoulder. "Give yourself time."

Blair threw his arms back around Jim, hugging tight. "I love you so much. I'm sorry I was so stupid."

Jim rubbed his back and said with humor, "Now we're even."

"You told me that you only doubted me for a few seconds," Blair pointed out.

"And you doubted me for a few hours - less than a full day."  Jim pulled back yet again, and placed his hand on Blair's cheek. "It's all right. I forgive you."

Blair closed his eyes and nodded.

Jim reached to the ground beside him and picked up the armband. "Are you sure you're all right with this?"

"Yes," Blair said without hesitation. He looked at the beaded image again. "It's so beautiful."  His eyes darted to Jim. "You're so beautiful for thinking of it."

"It came to me last night, when I reached the artisan's home. I'd thought I would just have him do colors of no particular design. Then I looked up at the stars in the sky and I saw the Dolphin's Swirl. I remembered what you'd said about dolphins representing freedom - and it seemed so appropriate. I'm no artist myself, though, so it was hard trying to explain it to the man. I spent a long time trying to sketch what I had in mind. That's why I was so late last night."

Blair turned to present his left arm. "I will be proud to wear it."

Jim tied the band onto Blair's arm below where his sleeve ended. Then he bent and kissed it. He looked into Blair's eyes. "Never forget that you are free."

Blair took the belt emblem and kissed that. He undid Jim's belt and slipped the emblem along it, then fastened the belt again. "Now all can see that we are united."

"Let's go."  Jim stood and helped Blair to his feet.

---

As they continued to travel south, the heat was such that they each wore only one layer of clothing and short-sleeved, at that. The area was nondescript, flat prairie land broken only by small hills and patches of barren land.

Blair worked at getting in the habit of calling Jim "master". When they were alone, they would share a grin at the absurdity of it, but they still practiced.

One night, as they bedded down next to the fire, Blair whispered, "Touch me."  He was tired of being aware of what he and Jim weren't doing. The longer he stayed off the horse, the harder it would be to get back on.

Sitting beside Blair, Jim placed a hand on his bare belly. "Are you sure?"

Blair closed his eyes and nodded, longing for the warmth of the hand, even as he felt an angry defiance at the necessity of going through this process.

For a long moment nothing happened and Blair wondered if Jim thought him undesirable.

"Chief?"

Blair opened his eyes.

Jim hovered over him.  "Why don't you take my hand and guide it to where you want to be touched... and how. That way, maybe it will be harder for your mind to trick you into thinking it's the raiders touching you."

"Okay," Blair said unsteadily. He was amazed all over again at how understanding Jim was. "Just stay where I can see you."

"How about if I hold you against me, instead?"

Yes, that would work. Blair sat up and rested back against Jim, while drawing Jim's arms around him.

"I'll touch only where your hand places my hand," Jim reminded.

This felt so good. So safe.

Blair took Jim by the wrist and brought his hand down to his limp manhood. He applied pressure on top of Jim's hand, so that it pressed against his groin.

He was encouraged to feel a response and he tilted his head up and closed his eyes, making his meaning clear.

Jim responded a moment later, his plush lips settling on Blair's, his warm breath breathing into him.

"Um-mmm," Blair murmured. He pressed down harder on Jim's hand and thrust up with his hips. It wasn't enough and he pulled away to whisper, "Squeeze me."

Jim did. His mouth pressed more firmly.

Blair tried harder to thrust up.

Abruptly, the warmth left his mouth. It appeared at his ear. "Blair?  Are you sure it's only my hand that you want?"

No, he didn't want Jim's hand. He wretched away from Jim's grip and lay back on the bedroll. He was relieved that Jim moved to straddle him, as though reading his mind. Blair closed his eyes and pushed on Jim's head as he moved backwards, until his head was even with Blair's groin.

When the warm mouth enclosed him, it was the most perfect sensation Blair had ever known. He stopped struggling and let Jim milk him, the suction stimulating his flesh in all the right places.

It couldn't last. He let the climax overtake him. His cries were long and deep as fluid spurted from him.

After swallowing, Jim kissed Blair gently there, then rose up on his hands.

Blair drifted into sleep.

In the morning, he returned the favor. He no longer worried about the raiders intruding upon his and Jim's bed.

---

Three days later, they looked down into the green valley below. A caravan, consisting of three covered, decorated wagons moved along at a steady pace. A few dozen mounted men carrying spears, sabers and armor, escorted them.

Jim focused his sight. Then he said, "Those wagons have nicely attired women as their cargo."

"I wonder why. That's a pretty impressive escort. They can't be prostitutes."

"No. Let's find out who they are."

They urged their horses forward.

---

They were careful to approach at a non-threatening pace. The leader of the escort called a halt and watched Jim and Blair warily. However, it was a robust, friendly-looking man, mounted on a skinny horse, who broke away to greet them.

"Good day, sir," he said to Jim.

Obviously, he had taken note of Blair's armband, signifying him as a slave. That meant these people were likely from the east.

"Good day," Jim said. "You appear to have a very attractive cargo."

"Yes."  The man glanced at the caravan proudly. He nodded to the escort's leader, who signaled for the caravan to keep moving forward. "It's the annual trek for the maidens to find husbands. The man who can offer an adequate gift package to the maiden's family can wed the young lady."

It didn't look like the wagons were large enough to include the families. "Who determines what is adequate?"

"I do. I have been the trusted Manager of the Maidens for twenty-two years now."

Jim knew that Blair had to be dying to ask questions. He tried to think of a few that Blair might ask, as well as some to appease his own curiosity. "Where are you from?"

"Shala. It is well east of here, though most in these parts know of it."  He left the inference hanging that Jim must not be "from these parts".

However, after looking Jim over, he didn't ask questions but stated, "I doubt you have the wealth to obtain one of the prize maidens. But there are some who are on the trek for the second or third time and can be acquired with less impressive gifts. Perhaps you would like to look them over and select one."

Jim wondered how the man knew he was unwed. Perhaps simply because he obviously traveled a lot. He looked at Blair when he replied, "My heart is already taken."

Blair smiled back.

The man spat but still retained his pleasant manner. "I can tell that you must be from the north or west."  He urged his horse into a walk to keep up with the caravan.

Jim and Blair did likewise. "Why do you say that?"

"Because those from the north or the west go about it all wrong. You take male slaves," he glanced at Blair, "to your bed when you are young and should be starting a family. Then you have little interest in the pleasures of a woman. I do not have to know you at all to guess that you don't have children."

"I don't," Jim admitted. "But many where I'm from don't take men to their bed. It's frowned upon."

The man snorted in disdain. "You must be from the Empire. They preach one thing and do another. The well-bred of your people get just as much pleasure from men as those in other regions of the globe. But those of us from the south or east, we take a wife and start a family first. Then we indulge in the pleasures of our own kind."

Jim cleared his throat, both intrigued and amused by the man's firm beliefs. "That doesn't say much for lifelong romance between men and women."

"There is no such thing," the man said. "Men and women lose interest in each other once the children are old enough to have little need for parents."

"I know of a few people who would strongly disagree. I have heard of marriages that last for a lifetime."

"There are exceptions, of course," the man admitted. "But my life has been dedicated to finding marriages. I've observed the true nature of man. If he doesn't take a wife at a young age, he likely never will. He'll find slaves - usually males - for his pleasure and he won't produce any heirs."  He looked at Jim boldly. "You are merely one example."

"Perhaps," Jim conceded. "But my slave doesn't just give me pleasure in bed. He owns my heart - the only one who ever has."

"Because you started so young with him," the man said with disapproval. He looked at Blair again. "I can tell just by seeing you two together that he has been with you a long time."

Less than a year, Jim thought. Yet, he did indeed feel as though his life hadn't begun until he'd met Blair. But he kept to the agreed-upon ruse that Simon had suggested. "He has been my companion since I turned sixteen. He was trained and educated to be with me in all things."

"Where is he from?"

Jim was relieved that the man didn't claim to know everything, or assume that Blair was a Tava slave, as those in the northern part of this continent did. "He doesn't remember. He was orphaned as a small child and sold continuously. My grandfather was well-traveled and purchased him in the east, and sent him back to me as a companion. My grandfather was killed before he could tell us anything more. Blair proved to be highly intelligent and he was educated right along beside me, though he's quite a bit younger."  He felt strange talking about Blair as though he wasn't there. Blair, at least, was paying close attention to their conversation.

"I take it, then, that he can't be sold for any price."

"No. He is priceless."  Jim felt pride in saying that. "Upon my death, he is to retire and all his needs seen to by my family."  He watched Blair grin through the corner of his eye.

"You don't intend to ever have children?" the man pushed, his disapproval clear.

"No. It isn't what I want."

"You might consider changing your mind. For the right price, you can try out one of the older maidens before deciding to make a proposal for her hand.  Some are agreeable to making sure you find them to be an appropriate companion before proposing."

"No, thank you," Jim said, amused at the man's persistence.  He wondered if the Manager's offer meant some of the maidens weren't truly maidens. 

"May I ask a question, Master?"

Jim glanced at Blair, relieved to see him joining in the conversation. "Certainly."

Blair asked of the Manager, "Where is your caravan headed?"

"We stop for a few days in each major town along the route. We will reach Barja in two days. We stay in each town as long as there is interest in making claims for the maidens. Then we move on."

Blair was silent a moment, then nodded toward the back of the caravan. "Who are those men wearing the colorful robes?"

Jim followed Blair's gaze. There were a half dozen men wearing red and white robes, riding together.

"They are civilian assistants. One is a clergyman. Most are healers of sorts."  He looked at Jim. "If you are unfamiliar with Shala, know that we have the finest doctors anywhere in the world. Aspiring medical students from all over the continent come to Shala to learn medicine."

Jim wondered if anyone in the Empire knew that. Probably. He also considered that the man might have a narrow view of "the world" and not know much about what was beyond his own region.

The soldiers in the lead turned off the side of the road and the ones behind started to follow.

"Ah, we are breaking for the evening. You are welcome to join with us, as long as you do not speak to or touch any of the maidens without my permission."

Jim smiled. "Thank you, but we'll keep to ourselves. We'll be passing through Barja though, so we'll most likely shadow you for the next few days."

"Very well. Don't hesitate to change your mind about a wife. See me, if you do."  With that, the man tipped his hat and turned his horse away.

Blair chuckled. "Yeah, Master, don't hesitate to take on a wife."

Jim playfully swatted at Blair's head.

---

The next day, they rode ahead of the caravan. After taking a break for lunch, Blair watched from a short distance away as the caravan continued its trek. Many of the maidens were hanging partway out the open windows, laughing and talking with each other.

When Jim came up to Blair, his sense of smell told him just how thoroughly Blair was enjoying the sight.

"Having a good time there, Chief?" he teased.

Blair nodded. "I haven't ever seen so many beautiful women in one place before."  He looked over at Jim. "Do you mind?"

As though saying "yes" will change his current condition.  Jim decided not to tease further. "They really are beautiful. I might be tempted to get to know one or two better if I were still alone, as when I was in the army."

"Which one do you like?" Blair prompted.

"From looks alone?" Jim asked. Then he decided, "The redhead. The one in the green dress."

"She's nice. They certainly seem to be having a good time. But, surely, after husbands pick them, they don't see each other again."

"Probably not," Jim agreed, seeing the women chatting so happily with each other. "Still, they seem excited to be on 'the trek'."

Subdued, Blair said, "It doesn't seem that much different from slavery. Women don't have many rights. In the Northern Territory of the Empire, women have as much say in things as men do - including who they wed, or even if they wed at all."

Jim instantly thought of Blair's mother, Naomi. Yes, it was difficult to imagine her being agreeable to being bartered out to a husband with no say in the matter. He could also imagine how much chaos it would cause if all the territories in the Empire treated their female subjects as such. He didn't see how the men would stand for it, though he was amused by the idea of women rising up and demanding equal rights.

He straightened and caught sight of a soldier trotting up to them. "Blair," he said.

Blair also turned his attention away from the caravan.

The soldier nodded respectfully at Jim. "The commander would like to speak with you."

Jim couldn't imagine why, and not knowing the reason made him uneasy. "For what purpose?"

"I don't know. My orders were to give you the message and escort you to his tent."

The caravan was being halted for a break. Jim had noted that there was a tent set up at such times, which most of the soldiers gathered around. "All right. Lead on."

He looked at Blair, who shrugged, and they followed the messenger.

---

When Blair and Jim reached the tent, soldiers came up to them and held the bridles of their horses.

Blair took his feet out of the stirrups, swung his right leg over Giant's rump, then eased himself to the ground. He took some pride and satisfaction in noting that the soldiers couldn't hide their surprise at seeing such a short man - a slave, no less - on such a tall horse.

Another soldier held the opening to the tent aside and Blair followed Jim inside.

For the first time, they saw the commander without his armor. He was fortyish, trim and leanly muscled, and sitting behind a simple desk. He wore a goatee and had brown, shoulder-length hair and intelligent, dark brown eyes. His air was one of confidence, which Blair expected of a commander, but he didn't have the harsh expression that Blair had seen in so many military leaders' eyes.

"I am Commander Sahara," he announced to Jim, while still seated at his desk. "Who are you?"

"Jim," Jim replied.

The dark eyes narrowed as Sahara considered Jim's refusal to give a more formal name.

"What is your purpose on this route?"

"I am traveling to the peasant village of Nemos."

Once again, Sahara waited a beat, as though expecting Jim to elaborate. "What business do you have there?"

"That is my business," Jim emphasized pleasantly.

Blair's heart sped up. As secrets agents of the Empire, they couldn't give away much information. But this was a leader of a small army and he was obviously accustomed to more forthcoming answers to his questions.

"Where are you from?"

"Well northwest of here."

A small smile spread across Sahara's lips.  "The Empire then."  He stood and paced a few steps away, looking thoughtful.

Blair admired the man's intelligence, for Jim hadn't mentioned that he was speaking of  "northwest" being as far away as the other side of the Channel.

Jim didn't reply immediately. Then he said, "I intend no harm to you or the maidens. I am merely going in the same direction."

"So the Manager of the Maidens has told me."  Sahara looked over at his men. "Leave us."

The men saluted with a fist to their chests and then left.

Sahara slowly stepped toward Blair. "The Manager also tells me that this slave is your lifetime companion."

Blair's heart sped up again.

"Yes," Jim replied, and Blair could hear the slight tension in his voice. What did Sahara want from them?  Did he suspect that they were agents?

He tensed as Sahara walked behind him.

"The station of a commander can be a lonely one," Sahara said.

Blair wondered what that meant, though he tried to relax as the commander moved back to his desk.

Sahara sat down, easing into the contours of the wooden chair. "I ask that your slave spend the night with me."

No, not again!  Blair prayed, Please, Bree, no!

"No," Jim said simply.

Sahara kept going as though Jim hadn't spoken. "I can pay you well."

"No."

"He will not be harmed in any way."

"No."

"He will be treated to a grand dinner and a grand breakfast."

"No."

"I will see to his pleasure. He will have no complaints."

"No."

Blair realized his breath had quickened. He took a step behind Jim and grabbed onto his shirt, not caring that it made him appear cowardly.

Sahara commanded an army. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted. With merely an order, they could be at sword-point and completely overpowered.   

"You can have one of the maidens for the night without committing to wed her."

Blair started trembling, as there seemed to be no end to the commander's determination.

Jim put his arm around Blair and drew him close. Gently, he said, "Don't worry."  Then, looking at Sahara, but directing his words to Blair, "The commander is a man of honor. Men of honor don't use force to take something that doesn't belong to them."

Blair watched as Sahara's eyes glinted at the manipulative statements.

More forcefully, Jim told Sahara, "He doesn't want you. Years ago, I vowed to him that he would never be sold or leased or loaned or used as any sort of bargaining chip. There is nothing you can offer to break that vow. He has my permission to take his own life, if he is ever stolen from me and has no hope of rescue."

Blair almost started at the last remark, for he and Jim had never discussed suicide as part of their master/slave ruse. Yet, he could see the value of it immediately.  A threat of suicide meant someone like Sahara wouldn't think that they could steal Blair and keep him, without constantly worrying that he might take his own life.

He was very relieved when the commander didn't bring forth any more offers. Instead, Sahara's eyes grew sad.      

He may be a commander, but he is still only a man. Blair leaned into Jim and gripped the front of his shirt with his free hand. "May I speak, Master?"

Jim looked down at him, as though surprised that Blair still had his wits about him. "Yes."

Blair laid his head against Jim, but asked Sahara, "If you are so desperate, then why not take a slave from one of the villages?  Or even command one of your soldiers to share your bed?"  He realized his voice had become angry. If one felt free to take something from another, then why make distinctions about who could or couldn't be taken?

Sahara studied him for a long time. Then he replied, "Despite your obvious education, you are rather naïve, little one. If I wanted to spend a night with someone who has the intelligence of a piece of furniture, I would have simply taken a prostitute. As for soldiers, some commanders have a favorite or two from their ranks. But such favoritism breeds jealousy among the men. You risk losing their respect and their unity."  He paused. "You have the upbringing of a gentleman. I would treat you as such."   

"You want companionship," Blair realized. "Not just the pleasure."

The commander appeared uneasy at Blair's accuracy, but he admitted, "Yes. As a commander, I can't have such from my soldiers, if I am to be a respected leader."

Blair felt himself softening at the admission. "You can't force another to want you or like you. Pray to Bree for a friend and He will send you one. Be aware, however, that the answer to your prayer might come in a form that you least expect."  Blair certainly had never expected the love of his life would be an ex-soldier in the form of Jim.

Sahara snorted softly. "Ah yes, more of the Empire's arrogance. Not only does the Empire call itself such - as though it is the only 'empire' in all the world and therefore doesn't need a formal name - but  it propagates the belief in a single god."  Sahara shook his head sadly. "All the world's magnificence and the Empire believes that it is the work of a single being."

Curious, Blair eased his hold on Jim and asked, "You believe in many gods?"

"Of course. What other explanation is there for all the variety that exists in the world?  You who know only the Empire have a very narrow view of what exists outside its conquered territories. No single god can be responsible for all that is."

Blair was intrigued by the man's spiritual passion. "Whether we call God by a single name, or by many names, isn't it all still... God?  Our disagreement, therefore, is only in what we call it and not in what God is?"

A small smile of amusement spread across Sahara's lips. Then his eyes darted from Blair to Jim. "Have dinner with me. Both of you. Then we may continue this interesting discussion."

Jim squeezed Blair's shoulder possessively. "Thank you. But we prefer to be on our way."  He turned Blair away from Sahara, who gave a reluctant nod.

Blair felt a mixture of relief and disappointment as they left the tent. They mounted their horses and trotted away.

Once well away from the camp, they slowed to a walk. Blair said, "I was so afraid of him, at first. But now I feel sorry for him. He seems so lonely."

"Lots of soldiers are lonely, Chief."

"Maybe if he stopped trying to get what he wants through sex, he could find a true friend."

Jim looked at Blair with a warm, indulgent smile. "Maybe."

"The next time I meditate, I'm going to ask Bree to send him a friend. I'm going to visualize a friend going to him."

Jim's grin widened. "The 'one' god, Bree?" he teased.

Blair grinned back. But he was serious when he said, "There's nothing wrong with breaking Bree down into different parts and giving each part a unique name. I've heard of cultures that do that. Like I told the commander, it's all still God. There's no reason to look down on each other's beliefs, when we're all worshipping the same entity or entities that created us."  His grin widened. "Or, in your case, worshipping no entity at all; but, instead, simply honoring life."

Darkness fell while they searched for an appropriate campsite, well away from the caravan. As they grew silent, Blair found his thoughts coming back to how the meeting with Sahara had begun. He shivered as he shied away from wondering what could have happened, had Sahara not been a commander of honor but, instead, had used force to get what he wanted.

Even Jim wouldn't have been strong enough to fight off an entire army.

As the fire waned after their evening meal, Blair turned to Jim and clasped his hand. "Make love to me. Hold me tight against you and make it last a long time."

Soft, eager lips were against Blair's instantly, telling how much Jim also felt a need for closeness.

Blair waited until Jim broke away to draw a breath. Then he lay down on their bedroll, on his stomach, making it clear that he wanted the intimacy that they hadn't indulged in since before the raiders had captured him.

Kisses danced along the back of his neck.

"Let me do everything," Jim whispered, one hand on Blair's back, the other working with his shirt.

Blair lay there and let Jim undress him, moving only to shift at appropriate moments to release his clothing. A breeze blew across his bare backside and he shivered.

A warm hand rubbed up and down his back. Another gently nudged his legs apart. Blair waited, feeling probing pressure at the back of his sac, sending teasing pleasure through his lower region. Eventually, his flesh was parted, and slick fingers patiently prepared his opening.

He was turned so that he was partially on his right side. His left leg was pushed up. Hot breath exhaled against his neck, lips nibbled his earlobe... then blew in his ear.

Quivers raced through Blair's body.

Fingers felt his recess once more. Then blunt heat was placed against him. He went slack and waited.

His body was forced open and he savored the small pain that signaled their joining. Strong arms came around him and his head fell back against Jim's smooth, broad, sweat-slick chest.

A hot, wet mouth drooled against Blair's neck. He heard and felt Jim's gasps for breath; felt his strong legs push off the ground so that Blair was parted further.

The arms around him tightened. Warm breath exhaled rhythmically against his cheek.

Jim grunted. Then grunted again.

It wasn't going to last. It had been too long.

A knowing hand reached down and gripped Blair's hardness.

"No," he said, pushing it away. "Hold me."

Both arms tightened back around him.

"I...," Jim rasped in his ear, thrusting.

"Love...."  Jim panted again and his arms tightened.

"Youuuu."  The word turned into a groan of release.

Blair lay still, feeling each of Jim's various muscles go slack.

"Do it again," Blair whispered, when he knew Jim was about to withdraw.

Jim's only response was a heavy pant.

"I want it," Blair encouraged him. "I want you again. Love me again. Thrust deep and hard."  He stroked himself, to soothe his eager hardness and to stimulate Jim further.

Jim growled against Blair's neck and shoulder.

"Yes," Blair prompted.

Jim started to shift. "Stay with me," he gasped.

Blair wasn't sure what was wanted, so he let Jim move him. Carefully, they slowly sat up. Even more carefully, Jim moved one of Blair's legs, so that Blair was straddled over his lap facing him, impaled.

Jim gripped Blair's hair in both hands, then he looked down between their bodies. One hand settled on Blair's shoulder and the other reached down to his eager flesh.

Blair grabbed Jim's head and let his own head fall back. Jim had the most perfect touch a man could want. He squeezed Blair and stroked him, and Blair murmured incoherently, yielding to the pleasure.

He groaned loud and long as the sensation built. When release was imminent, he grabbed Jim by the cheeks and pulled him forward. Their lips melted together and Blair let his mouth fall open.

A tongue plunged in.

It was perfection... being simultaneously penetrated by Jim at both ends of his body.

With that realization, his seed gushed forth.

Blair knew nothing for many minutes.

Eventually, he became aware of Jim pushing him back, and he managed to let his arms fall to the ground behind him, so they could take some of his weight. Then his hips were grabbed and he was thrust up and down Jim's stout phallus.

Then all was silent, save their pants of recovery.

At some point, their bodies fell away from each other.

They moved sluggishly around on their bedroll, until they managed to pull the furs over them. Sleep claimed them instantly.

---

At mid-morning two days later, they accompanied the caravan as it entered the town of Barja. The citizens were tense. Jim and Blair urged the horses near those of Commander Sahara and his men, who were talking with the elders of the town.

"What is it?" Jim asked when the citizens rushed away and the commander had given orders to his men.

Sahara grimly replied, "Their scouts have spotted a party of two dozen barbarians over the next mountain. They could mount an attack at any moment."

"What do they want?" Jim asked.

Sahara looked sharply at him and he realized that the commander thought it was naïve question.

"Whatever they can take."  Then, as though remembering his assumption that Jim was from the Empire and wouldn't know the ways of the people here, Sahara said, "They terrorize the towns for a hundred miles around. Their number may be small, but they move quickly and without warning. This town is unusual in that it's formed a scouting party to watch for them."

Jim said, "If there are only a couple of dozen, your men should be able to take them easily."

Sahara snorted. "These are barbarians. They have no honor or pride. They recognize no laws of warfare. They take no prisoners. They rape the women and the slaves, take whatever loot they can carry, and leave only devastation in their wake."

Jim listened to Blair's heart pound. The people of the village continued to hurry and grab whatever weapons - crude swords and sharp farm implements - they could find.

Jim drew his rifle from its sheath. "I'll do what I can to help hold them off."

A man wearing the red robe that marked him as a healer trotted up to Sahara. "Commander, we are taking cover in the largest barn on this street."  

"Good."  Sahara turned to Jim. "You should have your slave join them. He will be protected."

Protected. It was on the tip of Jim's tongue to order Blair away to the barn. But he had an uneasy feeling about them being separated. What's more, he knew it wouldn't be fair to Blair to send him away, since he wasn't truly a slave. He'd never hear the end of it.

"He stays with me," Jim said with a firm jaw.

"Very well," the commander said, looking grim.

"THEY'RE COMING!" the citizens cried.

Those still on the streets ran faster for cover.

The ground began to quake with the thunder of galloping hooves.

Jim dismounted, rifle in hand. "This way," he said to Blair.

Sahara drew his sword and galloped off toward his men.

Blair quickly dismounted and followed Jim to take cover behind a wagon. As Jim crouched near a wheel, he said, "Stay behind me."  The only weapon Blair had was a knife and he didn't think it would be much use against the barbarians, who shot their weapons from horseback.

Jim placed his rifle between the spokes of the wheel and waited.

The barbarians entered from the other end of town. There were cries from the townspeople who hadn't gotten out of the way quickly enough. Then came the clash of swords as the army confronted the attackers. Due to the angle of the wagon he was hiding behind, Jim could only see a small portion of the battle. Most of the barbarians were trying to keep their horses well away from the soldiers, as that allowed them to fire their arrows.

Jim couldn't tell who had the upper hand. He considered moving so he could be of help, since all the fighting was at the other end of the street.

Just as he considered abandoning his position, he caught sight of a trio of barbarians on this side, who had obviously circled around behind the town.

"Keep your head down," he warned Blair. He cocked his rifle and took aim. He was grateful for his gift, as his eyesight focused on the chest of the leader, as the trio started down this side of the main street toward them, unaware of Jim's presence.

Jim fired and the man gasped and fell off his horse.

Now alerted, the other two looked frantically around as they continued their charge, their bows prepared for firing.

Jim aimed at the one nearer this side of the street and made easy work of killing him.

The third barbarian quickly angled his horse away as he darted down a side street, moving away from Jim and Blair. Jim took aim and fired. He thought he saw the man flinch from being hit, though he didn't fall off his horse. He turned out of sight and Jim reloaded his rifle.

The fighting at the other end had come closer. Soldiers tried to run up to the barbarians to use their swords, while the barbarians desperately tried to keep their distance so that they could use their bows.

At least, with the focus on the fighting, the civilians, so far, were being spared, save those who had been shot down at the beginning.

Jim cocked his head to listen, confident that no more of the enemy was at this end of town. "Let's move closer."  Gripping his rifle, he moved out from the safety of the wagon, his arm reaching out to keep Blair behind him.

They next sought cover behind a water trough. It was within range for his rifle. Jim took careful aim and picked off two more barbarians. He relished his confidence in his gifted sight, which allowed him to shoot successfully between soldiers.

The remaining barbarians became unnerved at their number being picked off so easily by an unseen enemy. As they lost confidence, the soldiers bore down more heavily upon them, slashing with their swords.

The barbarians began to retreat to the direction from which they had come, trying now to simply outrun the soldiers who were charging at them.

Relieved townspeople began to come out of hiding.

---

Blair felt useless as he watched. He had no desire to be involved in the fighting and he was grateful for the ability of Jim's rifle and gifted sight. Yet, he wished he could have done more to help.

"Looks like it's over," Jim said with satisfaction. He stood, his rifle in hand.

Blair followed him into the street, where the healers in red robes were tending to the wounded. Most were soldiers. Blankets were placed over lifeless bodies.

In the distance, a small group of soldiers disappeared over the hill after the barbarians. The rest of the soldiers were returning to town, their swords raised triumphantly.

Sahara had stayed behind to see to his men, a smile of satisfaction on his face.

Leaders of the town came out to thank him.

Jim cocked his head.

Blair paused, recognizing the stance of Jim listening. After a moment, he whispered, "What is it?"

"Galloping hooves," Jim replied. "I can't figure out the direction; there's too many sets moving around."

"Separate the sounds," Blair suggested. He was aware of the barbarians in the distance and the soldiers who followed them. More townspeople were emerging, some on horseback. And then, behind them....

Jim gripped his rifle and suddenly whirled around. "Get down!"

Blair dove to the ground. He watched helplessly as Jim frantically positioned his rifle. In front of Jim stood a bleeding barbarian - the third man, Blair realized - who was awkwardly holding his loaded bow.

Blair watched in horror as both men fired simultaneously.

The barbarian stiffened and jerked as Jim's bullet hit him. He fell from his horse.

Jim started to turn just as the barbarian's arrow flew into his right side.

Time stopped as Blair watched Jim drop his rifle, collapse to his knees, and then hold his right arm awkwardly against his lower front side, where the arrow protruded.

JIM!

Blair staggered to Jim's side, his horror increasing as he saw that at least three inches of the arrow had to be inside of Jim's body. Jim was thrashing around, gasping in pain.

Blair grabbed the arrow.

"No!  Don't pull it out!"

Blair looked up sharply. He watched one of the red-robed men rush toward him. He didn't understand the man's warning, for the arrow was causing Jim immense pain. He braced himself again, ready to pull on it.

"NO!" the man yelled again, gasping as he came to a halt beside Jim. "You will only injure him further."

A remembered filament of conversation drifted across Blair's mind. "Our people have the finest doctors in all the world."

"Help him," Blair pleaded, his gaze lowering to Jim's agonized face.   

"No."

Blair looked up at the new voice.

From atop his horse, Commander Sahara looked down at Blair with a determined expression. Without taking his eyes off him, he said, "Do not help. We must get the caravan to the next town as quickly as possible. It will be safer."

That made no sense. Surely, the barbarians were more likely to attack another town, rather than try this one again.

"Please," Blair begged, not understanding why the commander would refuse. "Save my master."  His hands held Jim's sweating face but he knew his touch was giving Jim little comfort.

"He will die," the doctor told the commander in a desperate voice.

Blair's ears picked up someone whispering, "He is a stranger; yet, he killed many barbarians to save our town."  There were murmurs of agreement.

"Let us help him," an elderly physician said, having just arrived on the scene.

"Such is the price of war."  Sahara's eyes were still on Blair's.

As Blair's eyes became lost in the cold ones of the commander's, he suddenly understood what was wanted. He heard himself say, "I will do anything to save my master."

"You know what I want," the commander said smoothly.

During theological discussions at the University, Blair had heard of some beliefs which centered around the basic principle that mankind was evil. He had never understood it before, but now he did. He had thought Sahara a decent and honorable man for whom he felt compassion because of the commander's loneliness and poignant desire for companionship.

Commander Sahara was a monster.
  
"Save him," Blair pleaded.

Sahara's expression relaxed slightly. "When the doctors have assured me that he will live, I will send someone for you."  He nodded at the physicians and turned his horse away.

The red-robed men surrounded Jim. Someone brought a litter.

While others carried the litter on which Jim lay, Blair walked by his side with his hand on Jim's chest. He chanted, "Try to imagine the pain as something tangible, something you can control...." It had worked before, but this time Jim seemed in so much agony that Blair didn't think he was listening.

Blair didn't know whose home they entered but Jim was placed in a large bedroom. The physicians went to work, gathering supplies and speaking quietly to each other.

Jim continued to groan from the pain, even as Blair stroked his forehead. Finally, Blair demanded of the doctors, "Why won't you remove the arrow?"

The elderly physician turned to him. "We will. But pulling it out will cause more damage. We must push it all the way through. That will cause considerably less damage, but it will be extremely painful for the patient. Therefore, we will give him the sleeping sickness, so he will be unconscious through the worst of it."

Blair's eyes widened. Sleeping sickness?  No!  He left Jim's side and stood before the elderly man. "No, you can't do that!  My master - he has a gift. The sleeping sickness will affect him more strongly than it does most people. He's had it before, and his sight and hearing and other senses went berserk."

The man's eyes narrowed in puzzlement. Then they darted to Jim before darting back to Blair. "You would rather have him in agony while we remove the arrow?"

Blair blinked. No, of course not. He put his hand to his forehead. Think!  Jim needed him so badly. Bree, please help me help him.

With a flash of insight, Blair straightened. "Give him only a partial dose. Monitor him closely. Only give him more if it's necessary."

Another physician scoffed, "He is but a slave. We do not take orders from him."

Blair forced himself to sound more confident than he felt. "I have been with my master almost his entire life."  He indicated his armband. "I am his prized personal slave. I alone understand the nuances of his gift."  

The same physician said, "He isn't even supposed to be speaking with us."

Blair's voice hardened. "Tell my master about my disobedience after you have saved him. He will punish me as he sees fit."  He swallowed loudly, as he considered another angle to get their attention. "Your commander can't have what he wants from me if my master dies, for my life will be forfeit."  He was grateful that Jim had mentioned the suicide pact to Sahara. "In such a case, I'm sure the commander will be very unhappy with his staff of doctors."

The doctors looked uneasy and turned their attention back to their patient.

The elderly physician assured Blair that it was a partial dose that Blair helped coax down Jim's throat. While they waited for it to work, they carefully undressed Jim and prepared bandages and other medicines.

They turned Jim onto his uninjured side. Blair cringed as they pushed the arrow through, so that it came out of Jim's back. Yet, he was grateful that Jim merely groaned in his sleep.

Afterwards, a poultice was applied to the entrance and exit wounds, and was held in place with a bandage that was wrapped around Jim's torso.

Eventually, the doctors left, after assuring Blair that they would check on Jim every few hours. If they were needed in the meantime, Blair should come to their nearby tent and get them.

After over an hour of sitting on the floor at Jim's quiet bedside, Blair realized there was nothing he could do for him. He would have to let time and the poultice work. He had to admit that he was relieved that these physicians had learned how to use the sleeping sickness to their advantage while treating patients. It was a blessing that Jim's suffering had lasted less than an hour after the arrow pierced him.

Blair stood and went outside, where it was dark. He had no idea what time it was, but it must be late, for he heard few voices in the night. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and felt a pang of hunger. After turning in a circle, he spotted Red and Giant in a nearby corral. They had been untacked, their saddles and bridles draped over the corral posts.

He assumed this kindness to the animals had been the efforts of the grateful townspeople. Even as Blair considered this while moving to the corral, he felt anger consume him at the behavior of General Sahara. How dare that man use the saving of Jim's life as a pawn to get what he wanted - an evening of pleasure from a valuable "slave" who would have been happy to be his friend but had no interest whatsoever in being his lover.

Blair found some meal bars and dry cereal in their saddlebags. He stood there, eating with one hand, while stroking Giant's face with the other. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that, a quarter mile away, caravan wagons sat behind the buildings on the main street of town. Farther still, he could just barely make out Sahara's tent.

His anger turned to fury. Sahara's claim that they had to be moving on their way had been a lie. He had said that only to frighten Blair into agreeing to compromise his loyalty to his master. Blair had a vague recollection that the doctors had seemed appalled that their commander was keeping them from helping Jim until Sahara had Blair's agreement to give him what he wanted.

How could a commander let himself be so transparently manipulative in front of the very people whose respect he needed?

Blair looked up at the sky. Clouds were about and few stars were visible. Bree, last night I prayed to you to send Sahara a friend. Tonight, I hate him so much that I wish him dead. What has become of me?

Blair pushed the saddlebags aside and crossed his arms on top of the fencepost. He laid his head down on top of them.

Loneliness consumed him.

He knew Jim would forgive him for what he had done. He knew it was foolish to regret giving the only answer possible when one was faced with such blatant blackmail in order to save a life, especially the life of the man who was the center of his existence.

Yet, he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself.

His fear that the raiders would be present in his and Jim's bed had proved unfounded. He didn't think his memory of Sahara would be banished so easily. He had, in essence, volunteered to give himself to the commander.

He wondered if the commander would consider him in violation of his agreement, if he was cold and unresponsive in bed. He wondered, in that case, if the commander would be angry.

Blair himself would be plenty angry, regardless. He fantasized about lashing out at Sahara, with both his tongue and his fists, when he was brought to him, to express what a despicable example of the human race he was. He didn't care what was done to him in retaliation.

But he couldn't do that. While Jim was mending, he shouldn't be subjected to concerns about Blair's life, or any injuries or other unpleasantness that Sahara might choose to inflict. Worse, what if Sahara took his wrath against a rebellious Blair out on Jim?

Blair sighed. He would have to cooperate. He would have to give Sahara what he wanted.

---

It was just before the breaking of dawn that Jim stirred. There was a film of sweat on his forehead and, as his eyes opened, they had a glassy, faraway look.

"Jim," Blair said in a soft whisper, for the doctors were in the room.

Jim's face had a pinched expression.

"What is it?" Blair asked.

"Loud," Jim replied.

Blair found Jim's hand and squeezed it. One of the doctor's was listening to Jim's chest with a stethoscope.

As quietly as he could, Blair said, "They deliberately gave you the sleeping sickness, so you could rest. That's affecting your senses."  His eyes darted up to the elderly doctor, who was watching him. "I'm going to ask them to give you some more, so you can go back to sleep and not be bothered by your gift or the pain."  He squeezed Jim's hand and lightly stroked his cheek. "That's the best thing for you, Jim:  to sleep through all the discomfort."

Jim gave a small nod, his face still pinched.

While one of the doctors prepared more of the potion that caused the sleeping sickness, Blair continued to hold Jim's hand and murmur, "You're going to be fine."

---

Jim slept through most of the day. As Blair walked out into the daylight, he realized that Jim was being kept in a back bedroom of a large house, obviously owned by one of the wealthier citizens of the town. While it was a great kindness on the part of whoever the citizen was, the benefactor didn't seem to have any interest in inquiring about Jim's health, let alone that of his slave. Blair wondered if the people here feared him. They didn't seem to have any slaves and he supposed that they didn't know how to relate to him.

The caravan was active, as some of the wealthier single men in town - as well as others arriving from other towns nearby - looked the maidens over and made their offerings to the Manager. There seemed to be a mixture of joy and tears as some of the maidens rode away with their new husbands, leaving their lifelong friends behind.

Toward evening, Jim woke again. He was weak, but the sleeping sickness had worked its way through his system and he wasn't bothered by his gift.  Blair helped him relieve himself from his prone position; then he was able to coax some broth down him, while the doctors watched approvingly.

Blair sat at Jim's bedside while he gradually drifted into sleep again - this time a natural, drug-free sleep. He had only a mild fever and Blair let himself sag with relief. It was clear now that Jim would live.

Before long, a soldier entered the room and conferred with one of the doctors. A shiver of dread went down Blair's spine as he watched them whisper to each other.

Sweat seeped into his armpits.

The soldier turned to Blair. Quietly, as though out of respect for the sleeping patient, he said, "The commander summons you."

Blair's stomach twisted. He looked at Jim. The elderly physician kindly said, "He should sleep for a while now. One of us will always be with him."

Blair nodded grimly. He rose to his feet, his legs feeling wobbly.

As Blair followed the solider through town with his head down, he tried to decide how he should behave. He wanted to go limp and not respond to anything the commander did. He wanted to scream and yell at Sahara in indignation and spit on him.

Most of all, he did not want to show anything but disgust for every moment he was in his presence.

He had not bathed in a while so he smelled of dirt and sweat. He hoped he was offensive.

Please, Bree, don't let them throw me into a bath.

Soon, they were at the tent. The soldier held the flap aside. Blair took a deep breath and entered.

Pleasant smells graced his nostrils. A large table was filled with exotic food. The commander was standing unarmored, with his back to Blair. He gazed out a cut-out window in the tent.

Blair wondered if he was supposed to announce his own presence. Surely, Sahara knew he was there. He decided he would stand there, mute - hopefully, for forever.

Sahara spoke without turning around. "You can stop shaking."

I'm shaking from anger, not fear, Blair wanted to shout at him. But he felt it was a greater victory to not speak at all. If you think I'm going to help you eat any of this meal....

Finally, Sahara turned. "You aren't a slave," he stated simply.

Blair was just barely able to stop his mouth from falling open. What gave me away?  Did I call Jim by his name in my panic after he was wounded?  He felt a sense of failure.

"Even for one educated alongside a gentleman of the Empire, your eyes are too bold and knowing to be a slave. You see too much."

Blair feared that speaking would only give more of himself away.

A tiny smile appeared at Sahara's mouth. "Even now, your eyes tell me many things."

Blair had no idea what he could possibly do about that.

Sahara paced slowly along the opposite side of the table. "My physicians tell me that your Jim wears the brand of the Empress."  He paused and looked at Blair. "Are you branded, as well?"

Blair's heart raced. The doctors would have had to look between Jim's toes to see the brand. Apparently, they had been more thorough in their initial exam than Blair had realized.

Did Sahara know the meaning of the brand? That it identified himself and Jim as secret agents of the Empress?

Sahara went back to the window and looked out. After a long moment, he shook his head sadly. "Your Empire is on a path to self-destruction."

Blair didn't understand how Sahara could say such a thing. Yet, he sounded so confident.

"It will take decades, of course. Maybe centuries."  Sahara turned to face Blair. "I have heard of war machines your Empire has which frighten me. You build a machine that kills twenty men in a single blow. After that, you then feel you must build a machine that will kill forty with one blow. Then, once that is accomplished, you must put all your resources into a machine that will kill eighty."

Yes. Blair didn't know - or even want to know - what the Empire's mighty military did. But he'd picked up enough hints from Jim to know that what Sahara said was close to the truth. In fact, such thirst for destruction and power was the very thing that the people of the Northern Territory spoke out against.

"Don't you see what will happen?" Sahara demanded of Blair. "All your Empire knows is more, more, more. Bigger, bigger, bigger. Faster, faster, faster. More powerful, more powerful, more powerful. It never has enough!"  Sahara's fist slammed down on the table. "What do you think will happen when it has conquered every corner of the globe?  Do you think the Empire will then be satisfied?" he shouted. "Of course not!  For it only knows more, more, MORE. When there is nothing left to conquer outside its borders, it will be forced to conquer within. It doesn't know how to stop. It will implode from inside, leaving all its innocent citizens - the few who are left - suffering in the wake of its downfall."

Sahara drew a heavy breath. He demanded, "How can you be so intelligent and not see what will happen?"

I DO see what will happen, Blair wanted to protest. He wanted to tell Sahara all about the Northern Territory, how it was viewed as so peaceful and harmless that the Empress saw no reason to stomp it out; especially since its University supplied many intelligent students to work with the administrative part of the military, including its vast computer network. Yet, their way of life was considerably less destructive than that of other regions of the Empire.

He also wanted Sahara to know that he and Jim didn't become agents of the Empire out of some sort of misguided loyalty. They had their own reasons for wanting to do good and to travel to places they'd never seen before.

But Blair was leery of sharing all of that. He didn't know that he could truly trust Sahara, though he was drawn by his words.

Calmer, but just as passionate, Sahara said, "Do you realize that while your Empire pounds its chest and proclaims its greatness, conquering all who defy it, its very existence is dependent upon fear? It fears that it will lose all that it has. So, because of that fear, it conquers yet more still. Do you not see how insane this cycle of fear is?"

"You hypocrite," Blair seethed.

Sahara's eyes narrowed sharply.

"You held Jim's life over my head so you could have what you wanted."  Blair's voice rose and shook with anger. "You, alone, conquer for reasons that are even more insane than that of the Empire!  You have far less honor than the most humble of slaves!"

A whoosh of air went out of Sahara. He lowered his gaze.

Blair waited, breathing harshly, wondering if he would suffer retaliation for his words. But he wasn't sorry for them. He would never be sorry.

Sahara raised his head. Quietly, he said, "I'm surprised that, with your intelligence, you didn't call my bluff."

Bluff?  Sahara had been bluffing while Jim writhed in pain?  Blair could have refused to give him what he wanted and Jim would still have been saved?

"I hate you," Blair said.

Sahara winced. Then he straightened. "I confess that, in the flush of victory, I let power go to my head. I used it against you."  He looked away. "I am sorry."  

Blair felt a flair of hope.

"We both know you are a free man."  Sahara nodded toward Blair's armband. "You even wear a symbol of freedom. Granted," he said in a lower voice, "there would be little reason to suspect anyone in these parts to know that particular legend."

Blair wondered how Sahara did know of the legend associating dolphins with freedom; for that matter, how he seemed to know so much about so many things.  But there was a greater issue hanging between them.

Blair snorted harshly. "But if I were a slave, then it would be all right to take from me what you blackmailed me into 'giving' to you. Is that it?"

"What do you care about slaves?" Sahara asked dismissively.

Blair slowly shook his head, his disbelief battling his compassion for the imperfections of the human race. "You see so much, Commander," he said. "Yet, you see so very little."

"Perhaps."  Sahara drew a breath. "Please, don't hold my individual shortcomings against my people. The land I come from, Shala, is beautiful and magnificent. One day, after the Empire is through with defeating all the lands to the south of its current border, it will turn east, across the Channel. It will eventually reach my homeland. It will destroy everything we have created - from the beauty of our architecture to the beauty of our people."

I know, Blair wanted to say, feeling now only sympathy. He couldn't give away too much, but he wanted Sahara to understand that he didn't necessarily understand what motivated himself and Jim. "Despite Jim's brand, don't assume that you know what we stand for or what we represent. It has been said that the best way to teach is by example. I would hope that all who witness the love that Jim and I have for each other will find some good in that, which they can claim for themselves... and then spread it to others."

Sahara sighed forlornly. "That love has seduced me, as well."  He met Blair's eye. "If I haven't made it clear by now, I release you from your promise. I have no wish for the wrath or disgust that your eyes showed me on the street."

Relief washed through Blair. He realized that he must have communicated his feelings quite clearly when Sahara had waited for him to comply with his demand. Perhaps that was also the very moment when Sahara had realized he wasn't a slave. After all, if it was a commonly held belief that a slave should never look a master in the eye....

Sahara held out his hands over the table. "Dine with me. It is so rare that I have an opportunity to converse with an agreeable companion. When we are finished, the physicians can tell you which leftovers are safe to share with your Jim."

Blair considered the offer. He was hungry and the food smelled good. He was no longer afraid of Sahara. Still....

A wry smile lit the commander's mouth. "If you fear spilling secrets in the heat of conversation, then be silent and I will tell you all about the land of my birth and some of my adventures."

Blair hesitated. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down.

---

Blair carried his cloth sack of physician-approved leftovers in the darkness. His belly was full and he hoped Jim was well enough to enjoy some of the food.

Sahara had, indeed, done most of the talking at dinner. Blair hadn't minded doing most of the listening. In fact, he was in awe of some of the things the commander had seen and experienced. He hoped that Jim could join them in conversations in the future.

The caravan would surely be on its way soon and hopefully Jim would be well enough by then to travel. Maybe they could purchase a wagon, which Blair could drive, so Jim could rest in the back and they could continue to shadow the caravan for as long as possible.

Blair entered the doorway that opened into Jim's room. The lone physician there nodded at Blair, then turned to leave.

Jim's eyes opened.

Blair smiled at him. "Hi, there."

"Hi," Jim said. "The doctors said you were dining with the commander."

Blair wondered what else the doctors might have said. But he kept his smile as he held up the sack. "I brought leftovers. I hope you're up to eating something."

"I need to piss first," Jim said with a tired sigh.

Blair put the sack on the ground and moved around to Jim's other side, opposite the wound. "Can you wait a little bit?"

Jim nodded.

Very carefully, Blair got on the bed and snuggled up next to Jim.

Jim slowly maneuvered his arm, so that it eventually came around Blair. His fingers played with the strands of Blair's hair. "Are you all right?" he asked with closed eyes.

Blair nodded against his shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Jim opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Blair. "I thought, when I was wounded, I heard you make an agreement."

So, Jim had actually heard at least some of that exchange in the street. "Hm-mm."  Blair swallowed. "Sahara made me agree to give him what he - you know - wanted, before he would let his doctors save you."  He felt Jim tense. "But he didn't hold me to it. He was only bluffing. I think he's ashamed of himself, as he should be."  

Blair hesitated, then, "He knows I'm not a slave. He figured it out - from various clues, I guess."

Jim's raised his head slightly so his eyes could meet Blair's.

Blair patted Jim's chest. "I'll tell you all about it later."  He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Jim's body.

After a long silence, Jim twirled a strand of hair around his finger and said, "You seem lost in thought."

"I like him," Blair admitted. "He's a visionary. He has the ability to look into the future and see how things are going to turn out, based upon what's happening now."  He paused, hesitant to burden Jim with problems that neither of them had the power to do anything about. "He grieves for the day when the Empire will come east and destroy everything in its path. His people will lose their peaceful and artistic way of life."

"Maybe the Empire will be stopped before that happens."

"By who?" Blair wondered. "The regions south of the Empire are the next strongest and yet the Empire is finally gaining a victory over them."  Still, it would take years before such victory was certain. In the meantime, how many hundreds of thousands of lives would be uselessly lost solely for the purpose of more, more, more?

Wanting to get both their minds off such unpleasant thoughts, Blair asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, as long as I don't move."

So much for abandoning unpleasant thoughts. "We're going to have to get you up to piss. Doctor's orders. I know it's going to hurt a lot but you have to start moving around some."

Jim feigned a snore and Blair laughed.

They rested comfortably for a few minutes.

"What are you thinking about?" Jim asked.

Blair's thoughts had wandered and it was a moment before he realized where they had gone. "I was thinking about a time when I was four years old."

"Mm?"  Jim's fingers continued to stroke through Blair's hair.

"I was watching my mom working in her garden. I was asking her lots of annoying questions about how plants grow, and she patiently explained about how one plants a seed in the ground, and then waters it, and the sun's warmth gives it love from Bree. She even helped me plant a seed. She told me that it would be a few days before the plant started to appear, but I was stubborn and determined to see the moment it emerged from the dirt. So, I sat there next to it the first day, all day. And then into the night. Finally, I got too cold so I went inside. I forgot all about it. A few weeks later, I walked by the garden, and I noticed this big, beautiful plant where I'd put that seed in the ground."

Blair remembered the sense of wonder that had consumed him. "I was too young to put the concept into words at the time, but I think I understood that if you planted any sort of seed and left it alone so that it could grow along the path that Bree intended for it, then it would become something beautiful and magnificent."

Jim's fingers moved from Blair's hair to his shoulder and rubbed. "Why are you remembering that now?"

"I'd like to think that, in all our words to each other - some of them angry - the meeting between myself and Commander Sahara planted a seed. I have no idea what that particular seed is, let alone what the end result will be, or for what purpose. Yet, I have faith that Bree brought us together for a reason."

Jim's fingers continued their gentle stroking. "You've planted many seeds in your life, Blair. I have no doubt of it."

Blair felt warmed by Jim's belief in him.

After a time, he realized that Jim was starting to doze off. Reluctantly, he left Jim's embrace and stood. He went around to the other side of the bed, where Jim lay closer to the edge. He placed his hand on Jim's bare shoulder. "Sorry, Jim, but it's time to get up."

Jim opened his eyes and sighed.

---

They both slept through the night, lying together on the bed. Getting Jim up and around, even for a few steps, had been exhausting.

At dawn, they were awakened by sounds of activity outside.

Blair gave Jim's chest a reassuring pat. "I'll go see what's up."  He carefully removed himself from Jim's side and took a moment to stretch. Then he quickly dressed and went out the door.

Two lines of soldiers were riding away from the town. They're leaving?  He didn't understand how they could leave the caravan unprotected.

He wondered how quickly he could saddle Giant and catch up to them. Then he realized that a few soldiers hadn't joined the formation yet. In the meadow behind the house they were staying at, he recognized Sahara talking to a couple of his men.

Blair ran toward him.

The men moved off and Sahara put his horse into a trot, toward the formation.

Blair waved a hand in the air. "Commander!"

Sahara looked around. Then he turned his horse toward Blair.

"Why are you leaving?" Blair asked as he stopped before Sahara.

"It's just the soldiers who are leaving. The doctors and clergy are remaining behind. Your Jim will be taken care of until he is well."

"Why must the soldiers leave?" It pained Blair to think that he would never see Sahara again; that Jim wouldn't be able to share a conversation with him.

"We've received word that our homeland is being invaded by a large army of barbarians. All military personnel who are away are being summoned home."

"But what about protecting the caravan?"

"We can't be in both places at once," Sahara said regretfully. "The greatest danger to the caravan is from barbarians. Surely, all the barbarians in the region are being united to attack our homeland. I think the caravan will be relatively safe."  Sahara straightened. "I regret leaving you --"  He suddenly faltered, then cocked his head. "I just realized that I don't even know your name."

"Blair."

"That is a good name."  The commander looked anxiously toward his men, who were about to disappear over the nearest mountain.  Then he met Blair's eye. "Whatever it is you are doing for the Empire, I don't doubt that it is good. Keep it up."

Blair nodded, warmed by Sahara's faith.

His mind was desperately trying to grasp at an elusive memory... something that had been passed over too easily when they'd had dinner.

The commander's horse shifted restlessly. Sahara said, "Blair, if you are ever in my homeland, and you or your Jim need help, please know that you can come to me for protection."

Blair slowly nodded. He very much wanted to see Sahara's homeland some day.

Sahara touched his helmet. "May the God of Travel to Far Away Places look over you."  He nudged his horse into a trot.

Blair remembered that they had spoken of spirituality often at dinner. It was a subject mentioned before dinner that had been brushed off.

He ran after Sahara. "Commander, wait!"

Sahara looked back, then pulled his horse up again. "I must get to my unit."

Blair caught his breath and looked at Sahara. "The next time you see a slave, look him or her in the eye. Make sure you have your wits about you and that your courage is near, for I promise you, when you look into those eyes... you will see yourself."

Sahara stared at him with a frown.

Blair turned and walked away. He felt Sahara's eyes boring into his back.

---

EPILOGUE

Naked, Jim and Blair stood knee-deep in a small pond. It was their first chance to wash off the worst of the sweat and grime acquired since leaving the last town behind, four days ago.

Jim's movements were slow and careful. He had removed his bandage in deference to the bath. Riding more than a few hours at a time was still very painful.

Once Jim had been well enough to travel, he and Blair had completed their mission in Nemos. They had stayed there ten full days, with Jim casting out his hearing relentlessly, trying to catch any word that would indicate a secret base existed there. They concluded that Nemos was a peasant town that didn't pose any threat to the Empire.

Jim hoped the Empire's military never crossed the Channel to come east, once it conquered the regions to its south, which it had been fighting for many years.

Together, they waded out of the pond. The sun was high and Jim sat on a rock. Blair crouched down on a lower rock nearby, sorting through their clothing, which had been washed then left to dry.

Jim had waited for the right time to bring up something to Blair that he found amusing. Perhaps, with them both feeling more relaxed than they had in a while, now was the right time and Blair could find it amusing, too.  He grinned at his pledgemate. "One of the doctors who tended me told me that you had been disobedient during my convalescence. He seemed to assume that I would appreciate knowing that I should punish you."

Blair snorted. "I'm sure I know which doctor that was. With you unconscious, they still seemed to think I should ask your permission first, before speaking."  He shook his head, now grinning. "Besides, I'm the one who suggested that the doctor tell you of my disobedience so you could punish me."

"You did?"  

"Uh-huh."  Blair moved to Jim and sat on his knees, careful to not touch his wound as he wrapped his arms around Jim's neck. Lustfully, he said, "I'm such a very, very good slave that I even inform my master when I need to be punished."  His warm breath blew across Jim's face.

Oh, no.  Jim was getting uncomfortable. Still, he couldn't resist playing along.  "What kind of punishment do you think you deserve?"

Blair feigned thinking deeply. Then he said, "A punishment that is very stimulating. One that I'll remember for a very, very long time."

Jim gulped. "And, uh, what do you think the instrument of your punishment should be?"  Dammit, why had he started this?  He was in no shape to deliver Blair's 'punishment'.

"Why, the instrument should be your sword, of course."

"My sword?"  Jim didn't own a sword. Unless...

Blair grinned. "Yesss."  His lips barely brushed Jim's. "Your sword of flesh, my master. That will deliver the most stimulating, the most memorable punishment."

"And, uh," Jim swallowed thickly, the nerves inside his thighs quivering, "what part of your person should receive the punishment?"

Blair's nose touched Jim's. "My backside, of course. Your sword will punish my backside again and again. I will count the 'brutal', stimulating blows out loud."

Jim groaned and closed his eyes. He was in serious, sweet pain..

When he opened his eyes, Blair was grinning at him.

Blair said, "I know my master is in no shape to deliver my punishment anytime soon. So, until then, I will keep his sword exercised and in peak condition."  Blair stood and pushed on Jim's shoulder. "Relax, Master."

Jim let his arms take his weight behind him on the rock and let his head fall back.

Blair's grin widened. He touched Jim's knee. "Give me full access to your sword, Master."

Jim spread his legs. His wound was throbbing.  He didn't care.

Blair knelt down. "I worship my master's sword, because I respect the punishment it can deliver."  He stuck out his tongue, then circled it around his widely opened mouth. He leaned forward and delivered a lick up the shaft.

Jim made a noise, his body tensing, eager for the next one.

Blair ran his tongue up it again.

Ohhhh.

"I will think about all the ways I can continue to be naughty and disobedient, so my punishment will take a long, long time, when my master is ready to deliver it." Blair looked up at Jim through long lashes. "Think of punishing me, Master."  He devoured the "sword".

Jim gasped sharply.

"Mmm-mmmmm."  Blair's noises were loud, as his head bobbed back and forth.

Holy, holy Bree....

At that moment, Jim wouldn't have cared if a hoard of barbarians descended upon them.

---

They dozed on the warm ground for nearly an hour after pleasuring each other. When Jim felt his wound had recovered enough to ride for a few more hours, he sat up.

He cocked his ear as a sound came from the distance. He nudged Blair. "Someone's coming."

Still naked, they helped each other stand and went to the edge of the shallow forest that held the pond.

"A lone rider," Jim said, watching as the figure descended a gentle slope a quarter of a mile away.

"Can you tell where he's from?" Blair asked.

Jim focused his sight and noticed the dark skin. He happily declared, "It's Simon!"

"Simon?" Blair echoed. "Great!"

Jim remembered what Blair had said about not wanting Simon to "see" him. "I'll get your clothes."  He turned back toward the rocks where their clothes were drying.

Blair grabbed his arm. "It's okay."

Jim stepped back. "Are you sure?"

Blair's smile was peaceful. "Yes. It's all right now."

Jim smiled too. It felt good that Blair had completely put his experience with the raiders behind him.

They came out from the cover of the trees and Jim waved toward Simon.

Simon perked up, then waved back as he sent his horse into a trot. A moment later, he came within speaking distance. "Jim!  Blair!" he greeted happily.

"Hi, Simon," Jim said.

Simon's eyes narrowed as he studied Jim's scar. "Ooh, that looks painful."

"A barbarian arrow," Jim said. "I can only ride for a few hours at a time."

Simon dismounted. "Have you completed your mission?"

While Blair nodded, Jim said, "Yes. You?"

"Yep. I was hoping I would find out where you'd gone, before I headed back to the Empire's nearest underground station."

"That's where we're headed," Jim said. It would take weeks of travel before they reached the southernmost underground station, north of here, the location of which only the agents knew. There, they would turn in their reports for their recently completed assignments and be given a new one, if any more were to be assigned to them.

"Then we may as well head there together," Simon said with satisfaction.

Blair walked up to him and hugged him. "Good to see you again," he said with a smile.

"You too, Blair."  Simon squeezed his shoulder. "You look good."

Jim started back toward the pond. "We'll be a half hour getting ready to head out. Maybe you can take a break and wash up in the water."

Simon led his horse forward. "Sounds good."

---

After they were all dressed, had their supplies packed, and were mounted up, they directed their horses to the trail that would lead them north.

Blair halted Giant and turned him to face east. He wondered what had happened to Commander Sahara's people in their fight against the barbarians.

Jim brought Red up beside him. "Maybe we'll go there someday, huh?"

"Someday."
  
They turned to catch up to Simon.

END