The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (11 page)

“Ha. I see. We can take precautions then.”

“We can, and we most certainly will.”

“So, you’re agreeing to see him?”

“I can hardly refuse, can I? He says it concerns Anaxantis.”

8
Lorcko was leaning out of a window of Timishi’s royal barrack.

Apparently bare-chested from the outside, he was actually naked. He smiled as he felt Timishi crawl between his legs and his lover’s warm tongue lick at his ballsack.

“Don’t, àjemisha, people will get funny thoughts,” he snickered.

“What people? The workmen? They can’t see a thing,” he heard the Mukthar mumble from between his legs.

Lorcko looked up at the massive square tower that was rising on the highest point of the mountain.

“It’s big,” he said, to nobody in particular.

“It will get bigger still,” he heard, just before a warm mouth captured his member.

“I meant the tower, outside, oh King of the Perverts,” he said with some difficulty as the first waves of pleasure took hold of him.

He closed the curtain with one hand. Timishi looked up.

“So did I,” the Mukthar said grin-shrugging while standing up.

Pressing his own naked body against Lorcko’s, he drove his lover to the wooden table, a wolfish smirk on his lips. After having pushed him down backwards on it, but with his feet still on the ground, he put his lover’s member, fully erect and eminently accessible, into his mouth again. Lorcko felt the tip of a finger glide between his crack and, moments later, being inserted into his entrance. He gasped, spread his arms wide open to seek the edge of the tabletop to hold on to and began writhing uncontrollably. He clenched his butt cheeks together, but couldn’t prevent Timishi from pushing his finger still deeper. The Mukthar came almost prematurely himself, just by glancing upwards and seeing what effect he was having on his lover. He smiled, noticing how even completely overwhelmed by pleasure, his àjemisha took care 9
that his thick hair covered the scarred side of his face. He felt Lorcko’s hips make jolting movements and moments later drank his bitter— sweet, pungent semen. Grinning he came upright and leaned over his sweating lover, kissing him on the bronze chest, while Lorcko moved a few inches backwards and lifted his feet from the ground, putting his heels on the edge of the tabletop. Soon he felt the finger being with— drawn, only to be replaced by Timishi’s shaft. Then the Mukthar lifted him from the table and he clamped his long legs around his lover’s hips.

“Careful, àjemisha,” he panted “don’t overdo it. Your face is getting all red.”

It didn’t take much, almost nothing, just the excitement of carrying Lorcko in his strong arms, with his member buried deep inside him.

That and the loving, dark eyes were enough. Lips somewhat parted, breathing heavily, Timishi came, involuntarily strengthening his embrace.

Lorcko grimaced and leaned back in his arms, then, feeling the Mukthar had spent himself, caressed a few strands of sweaty hair out of his face and kissed him on the lips. Timishi gently withdrew and let him glide against his damp body into an upright position.

They went over to a basin, sitting on a cupboard, and started washing each other, giggling like little boys when they reached each other’s intimate places.

When they were dressed, Lorcko opened the curtains. He looked again at the mighty tower, crawling with dozens of workmen.

“At least you will have a magnificent view,” he said. “On a clear day you might be able to see all the way to Renuvia. Even as far as the coast maybe.”

9
“We will have a magnificent view, àjemisha. I plan to make the top

floor into our private quarters. I got the idea from Anashantish. He has made the same arrangements in Lorseth.”

“Speaking of Anaxantis, have you replied to his invitation yet?”

“An official letter of acceptance is underway. I hope Rodo will be able to join us.”

“Why wouldn’t he? Where is he, for that matter?”

“At the harbor, looking after the construction of the piers and the wharves.”

“Really, àjemisha, the harbor? Don’t you think you should give the place a name?”

“What’s wrong with ‘the harbor’? Or ‘the capital’? Or ‘the kingdom’? I don’t understand you Ximerionians. Those words express perfectly what is meant by them.”

Lorcko looked at him exasperated.

“What if you ever decide to found a second harbor? Ha. That’s you in trouble, isn’t it?”

“Why? We’ll just call it ‘the second harbor.’ Or ‘the little harbor.’ Or ‘the southern harbor.’ Or—”

Lorcko interrupted him with a kiss.

“Sorry, àjemisha,” he smiled. “Entirely my fault for trying to talk some sense into that handsome, thick head of yours.”

“Not at all, I’m getting used to Ximerionian inane babbling,” Timishi replied.

“Hm… Fine, you have your harbor, cleverly called harbor. What are you going to do for ships? Or a ship?”

9
“I was thinking, while we’re guests of Anashantish, I could as well

ask him for a little supplementary loan.”

“You’re not getting him drunk again, Timi. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“No, of course I won’t, and that was Rodo who spiked his drinks, not me,” the Mukthar quedash grinned. “The results weren’t entirely satisfactory, for that matter,” he added pensively.

“Well, there will be no need for Rodo’s shenanigans. I will provide the ship.”

“You?”

“I told you Iramid’s coffers were full, didn’t I? So, before coming here I went by the coast, to a harbor with a real, good Ximerionian name, Grammidal, and I babbled myself inanely into buying a ship.”

“You did?”

“Yes. And I hired a crew as well, seeing as I know next to nothing about ships and how to sail them. Which is still more than you do. My next problem was obvious.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe you didn’t notice, but Iramid is landlocked, and a ship in the inner courtyard of my castle would be, not only unsightly, but rather obtrusive and altogether inconvenient.”

“Ha.”

“So I gave orders to set sail for these parts, generally speaking, north of Grammidal.”

“Where specifically?”

Lorcko looked down.

“I said to look out for a harbor. There are none that I know of besides yours.”

9
Timishi laughed out loud.

“You sent them to ‘the harbor’? See, I told you all that—”

“All right, I did. Satisfied? Don’t mock me, barbarian. Especially not when I’m giving you a ship.”

Timishi took him in his arms.

“You should be more careful with your money, Lorsho,” he said.

Lorcko shrugged, still pouting.

“What’s mine is yours, you know that.”

He looked up, straight into his lover’s eyes.

“It’s ideal, Timi. It’s not even ten years old and the crew is experienced but undermanned for long voyages in open sea. Seven men. Just enough to bring her here, as long as they stay in sight of the coast.

There’s no captain, which allows you to appoint one, but the pilot is almost as qualified and can act under his orders. Your men can learn to become seamen on the job. You’ll need about fifteen of them to operate the vessel in high waters.”

He had grown more enthusiastic while talking. Timishi kissed him.

“And don’t you dare call it ‘the ship’. I already had it rebaptized Sea Wolf,” Lorcko added.

“That’s more than generous, àjemisha,” The Mukthar king said softly. “Nice name as well. Has a ring to it.”

Lorcko beamed.

“I just want to help you take care of the màhai, Timi.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“No need to say anything. What do you say we go look at it? The Sea Wolf should have left Grammidal a few days after I did. By now it should be in… there.”

9
Timishi chuckled.

“Let’s pack then.”

He sighed and looked around.

“I’m actually sorry to leave Ashronikhar.”

“What?” Lorcko asked.

“Ashronikhar. It means Wolf’s Lair in Muktharesh. It’s how I’m naming the castle.”

“You gave the castle a name, did you?”

“Of course I did. A castle should have a name.”

The young count of Iramid looked at him astounded.

“Oh, but you’re not leaving Ashronikhar, àjemisha,” Lorcko said tersely.

“I am not?”

“No, because I’m going to kill you, and you will be buried here.”

The nights were getting chillier and still they kept him naked in the open field, although they had dumped two bales of hay and loosened them up. They had also given him a longer chain so he could crawl under the hay for some shelter and warmth.

They had shaved him again, taking some skin in the process. They had laughed at his spastic gestures and cries of anguish, when they gashed him again and again, while pinning him down to the ground, not minding where they grabbed him and going about their business in a rough and offhand manner.

The nightly visits continued. Although he could have turned around, now that he had a longer chain, he didn’t. He let them grab his hips and lift his ass up. As of late they brought a bucket with icy water.

9
Most of it they splashed over his butt before they raped him, and with the remainder they cleaned themselves, leaving him hurting all over and shivering in his soggy straw.

His broken fingers had eventually healed in a manner. They were all crooked, and some of them hurt if he put pressure on them. Why had they done it? He still didn’t understand.

Then one day the burly Mukthar had come again, carrying two rocks, a smaller and a bigger one. When he had put Ambrick’s hand on the big stone he had started hurling in protest and fear. His tormentor had only laughed at his ineffectual attempts to evade the small rock that pounded down upon his hand, breaking all his fingers once again.

For hours on end afterwards he had lain on his back, howling with pain and racking his brain why they did this.

He never saw Lorcko again.

Life wasn’t worth living anymore.

He was just defecating when he saw Rannimosh coming. Of course, he didn’t know the name of his young benefactor. He just continued relieving himself, with only a vague sense of shame left after so many people had seen him do so. The boy didn’t seem to mind. He had probably witnessed enough dogs and cows relieving themselves without taking notice who looked on.

Both the fact that he didn’t mind too much performing this most intimate of bodily functions before a young boy and the fact that the onlooker thought it unexceptional that he did so, added to the realization of what he had become.

Rannimosh crouched down before him and out of a small wooden bucket, scooped up a handful of meat, cut in very small pieces.

9
“I cooked it extra long, shorgah,” the boy said. “It is so tender you

don’t have to chew it. It will melt in your mouth.”

As usual he bended over the outstretched hand and slobbered up, almost inhaled, the offering.

It was delicious and he felt immensely grateful towards the boy who seemed, judging by his friendly smile, to enjoy feeding him. When he had licked up the last morsel, he kissed the boy’s palm.

Then he looked up at him.

“Chee hee,” he whined plaintively, “heech, chee hee.”

“Kill me, please, kill me.”

Rannimosh looked quizzically at him. He wondered what the shorgah was trying to say. Then it crawled forward and tapped its forehead on the hilt of his dagger and repeated its sorrowful, moaning complaint.

“You don’t want to live anymore, poor thing?” Rannimosh whispered, suddenly understanding. “You used to be someone, didn’t you?”

Ambrick nodded and looked pleadingly at the boy, who seemed to hesitate.

“I’m sorry, shorgah, but I can’t use my dagger. They would investigate who did it.“

Ambrick moaned insistently. Then he looked around. It had rained that night. He shuffled over to a puddle and hung his head above it.

Rannimosh understood what he wanted.

“Are you sure, shorgah?” he asked gently. “Yes, I suppose you are,”

he added after a while, rubbing his chin.

The boy thought deeply. Uncle Timi and his àjemisha had just left for the harbor. He looked around to see if anyone was in the vicinity.

9
“For the last time, shorgah. You’re absolutely sure this is what you

want?” he asked softly, but insistently.

Ambrick nodded furiously and hung his head even deeper over the puddle.

“Very well. Lie down on your belly.”

Ambrick obeyed instantly, putting his arms backwards along his emaciated, naked body.

Rannimosh put his right boot with all his weight upon the shorgah’s bald head, and pushed it into the puddle.

Ambrick wanted to die, but his body wanted to live. It took all his willpower to keep his arms stretched beside him, but he couldn’t prevent his legs from flaying wildly.

After less than a minute he instinctively tried to inhale and his lungs filled with muddy water. At first he gagged and tried to lift his head. Then he felt an intense euphoria coming over him. Everything became pitch black before his closed eyes. A burst of white light suddenly seemed to fill his whole body. And there, there in the distance stood Lorcko, like he had seen him, from his hiding place in the shrubbery, that day by the river. His perfect body lighted by the sun, filtered by the small, translucently verdant leaves of a weeping willow. The vision turned around and smiled at him, beckoning him invitingly.

At last Ambrick, count of Keyld, was happy.