Lord of the West

Vespa heard a knock at her door. She yawned, wondering if it was her morning call. But it was still dark out, and she couldn’t have been asleep for long. She sighed, stretching. This was the second time in two nights that she had been rudely awoken. Last night one of Kef’s runners had come to tell her that Veione had been arrested for fighting. She had told him in not so many words that what Veione did was not her problem, and that he should leave her alone. She had not been concerned. It was not the first time that Veione had been thrown in the gaol for a night, and she very much doubted that it would be the last.


Securing her robe she answered the door. She was ready to snarl at whoever had disturbed her, but faced with a familiar broach, a jet raven set on a red back ground, it stopped her in her tracks. She looked up to confirm this and was met by the cool, dethatched gaze of Lord Darcia. “Captain Vespa may I come in.”


“Of course.” She stammered. Noticing that he did not ask her apology for waking her. Not that he needed to of course, she was his servant after all.


He stood regarding her for a moment. A few months ago she would have been ecstatic that the hansom duke had come to her chambers, alone, and in the middle of the night. But right now she was just wondering what this was all about. Lord Darcia was not the kind of man who paid social calls.


“This is…. a delicate matter.” Darcia said at last.

“What is?”


He looked towards the windows, and clenched his jaw for a moment, obviously debating with himself. He glanced down at her and then sighed. “It is not my habit to meddle in the affairs of my men. But this can not continue. He is a friend. Daen suggested that….”


“Who are we talking about my lord?”


“Veione, who else. Kef had him arrested yesterday. ”


Vespa frowned. She was not all together surprised. Everyone it seemed were asking about Veione. She wished that they would leave her alone. How was she supposed to know what was in his mind? “No disrespect intended my lord but what has that to do with me?”


Lord Darcia’s mouth twitched in something that could have been a smirk, but it was gone so swiftly that Vespa could not be sure. “It has – unfortunately- everything to do with you.”


“What do you mean?”


“This last outburst was due to his jealousy.” Darcia said. “It seems that he has more Darcian blood flowing through his veins then we first thought.”


“Veione has never felt jealousy, certainly not over me!”


“Your wrong.” Darcia informed her. “He would have killed Captain Brand, despite their friendship, over you. Take that as you will. I don’t like to interfere in such matters. But since this is affecting my commanders I have no choice to intervene. I could see him court marshalled for this. But I think that there are ….less drastic measures that could be taken.”


Vespa smiled. “Daen’s spoken to you.”


“That is beside the point.” He replied a little exasperated, and Vespa knew that she had been right on target. “Even if she had not been so instant, I would have had to do something.”


“So what, are you telling me to forget everything and forgive him?”


“I don’t know what has gone on between you.” Darcia said. “And I don’t care to know. As my Captains I ask that you both do your jobs. And I ask that you speak to each other and resolve this one way or the other. I do not want to regret having a woman as a captain. Many people criticise me for this, saying that women in an army are nothing but a distraction. Don’t let me be proved wrong. Your to valuable to be driven out by rumours.”


He left once his piece had been said. Vespa watched from the doorway, if nothing else Daen had softened the icy Duke. A few months ago, he would have sent them different ends of the lands, if not further that is after he had court marshalled them both. She had a lot of thinking to do.



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Leoff woke up with the worst hangover he could remember, ever. He opened his eyes wearily, light stung his eyes, but thankfully another day had not yet dawned and nothing but a small oil lamp flickered lazily in the gloom. He squinted at his surroundings. He was laid out on his back on the floor surrounded by barrels and crates, above him was a familiar wooden ceiling, and he recognised that he was back on the barge.

The young man sent grim look at the oil lamp, “Lloer dam that light.” He mumbled, and at that instant the lamp guttered out suddenly. That’s strange, probably just the wind he thought and he turned his mind back to struggling to recall exactly what he’d done to merit the shattering pain engulfing his head.

He remembered the barge, and that they had made berth for the night at some wharfs some quarter of a mile from the town of Fourks where the canal met the great Negessia river. The wharfs though a busy place during the day, were a whole new and vibrant community at night when the transient barge people used the warehouses to socialise and trade around large fires, their barges secured tightly against the rivers tidal currents.

He’d been at a wedding, he could remember that. The barge people had invited them….. he hadn’t wanted to go…… but they needed strong men to carry the groom and bride….…..there had been some communal drinking, and a few drinking games but by his reckoning he had not drunk had nearly enough ale to merit this level of misery….There had been some dancing, singing …..Ned, the little barge boy had brought them some rum in painted tin cups.... And then….

Nothing.

What had happened after? His ability to think collided with a wall of pain almost before he finished the thought. He blinked at his surroundings once more, at least he had made it back to the right barge, and he had some vague memory of staggering back with Vas.

Last time he woke up feeling this bad he had landed himself in a brawl. Daen, his sister had to bail him out of the town gaol the following morning before patching him up, that had been two years ago.

He felt too hot, something was pressed up against his back. Jerking out his elbow as he shrugged his blanket off it collided with something soft that let out a low whine of protest, before the warm weight shifted away from him. Glancing over Leoff watched as Vas rolled over on his back to sprawl out on the floor beside him. Looking down Leoff suddenly noticed that they were both completely naked. “What the….!?”

After taking a few deep breaths he reasoned with himself. If we were drunk enough to pass out the likelihood of us actually doing anything is virtually nil, and Vas would never take advantage of him like that. Not that he could remember anyway, in the end Leoff supposed it doesn’t matter. “I’m sure we will find out from Blake soon enough, bastard will probably be ribbing us about for days.”

He flailed his hand out to where his claymore ought to be, his eyes snapped open once more when his hand only met with the floor.

In panic Leoff sat up. “Oh gods, I’m going to be sick.” Leoff groaned as a wave of nausea passed over him at his sudden movement. Opening his eyes once more he looked about for any sign of his missing clothes and their weapons to no avail.

“Shit.”

“Vas where are our clothes?”

The dark haired man was in a worse state then Leoff and he blinked without comprehension when Leoff shook him. The Clodden man mumbled something in his native dialect that Leoff suspected even a native of the Cawmaw would be unable to translate.

Now irritated Leoff and seeing that Vas would be of no help at all, he headed for the small door. At least it’s still dark, so no one should see. Pulling the handle he shoved at the door in his annoyance. The door did not budge.

Leoff cursed long and low, pounding on the door and calling for someone to come and let them out. The deep silence of the night was his only answer. With a sigh he sat down on the wooden steps that lead to the door. His mind was still sluggish, but he instinctively knew that something was off with the whole situation. Leoff could count on his one hand the amount of times he had been really drunk, he could hold his ale with the best of them, though for the sake of wariness he more often then not abstained. And he had never passed out drunk before.

The door was locked from the outside, and it could have just been an oversight. But for the week that they had travelled on the barge, he had never seen the door that lead to the hold locked, not once.

But above all that Loke his demon sword was missing. Even at his most inhibriated Leoff knew that he would never relinquish the blade willingly. Someone would have to batter him unconscious….. Leoff wretched, as another wave of nausea overtook him.

“Why did I drink so much?” Leoff groaned as he hung his head in his hands, it still felt too big and heavy, as if it was going to fall off his very shoulders. After a few minuets he broke open a casket of water, hoping that his stomach would not rebel. He walked back to Vas once more and tried to rouse his friend.

“Vas come one, wake up.” Leoff demanded. Vas didn’t stir. Concerned Leoff rekindled the lamp and then went back to his friend’s side, gently prying open his eyelids. Vas’s pupils reacted sluggishly to the light. The dark haired man feebly batted Leoff away.

“Cut it out.” He groaned piteously before he rolled over and away from Leoff, curling up in a ball. “By the gods my head.”

The younger man shook his friend’s shoulder again. “Vas you can’t go back to sleep.”

“Why not?” Vas mumbled. “It’s not morning yet mam…. just another hour…..I need just another hour…”

“I’m not your mother.” Leoff sat back on his heals, shaking his head incredulously. “Vas for Helu’s sake, wake up!” Seeing that he was not getting very far, he did the only thing that he could think to do, a dirty trick that his sister had often used on him when he was younger, Leoff reached over and twisted Vas’s one nipple hard.

“Owww! Owwww! Owwww!” Vas yelped, scrabbling to get away, but Leoff lent over him and kept him pinned. “L’me go!”

Leoff continued to loom over him. Vas looked up and decided that he had made a mistake, as a very naked Leoff was pressing him against the floor. He was so close that Vas could feel the younger man’s breath on his face and he swore that his heart literally skipped a beat. “OH gods, I’m dreaming, or hallucinating.”

Leoff raised a sceptical eyebrow and gave Vas’s nipple another hard twist, causing the man below him to yelp once more. “Stop babbling and pay attention.”

“Leoff….wha…what are you doing?!” Vas’s heart was racing as Leoff slowly pulled away from him.

“Awake now?” Leoff asked know sitting cross-legged, and looking extremely pissed off.

He rubbed his abused nipple, and then glared at the young man. “That was really unnecessary.”

“Vas what do you remember from last night?” Leoff demanded.

It was with some difficulty that Vas managed to banish all the sexual possibilities that had flooded in to his mind considering that he had woken with Leoff pining him to the floor close enough to kiss. However aside from both being stark naked, there was no other evidence that they had been any more intimate then just sleeping.

“Vas come on stop sitting there like you have been slapped.”

It took a few more minuets of Leoff’s irritated cajoling for Vas to string a coherent sentence together. “By Helu’s sold gold cock, I can’t remember anything much of last night.” Vas pleaded. “Give me a minuet; I can’t think my head…..!”

“Then it’s not just me.” Leoff murmured absently.

“What in the world were we drinking to get in this state? I can’t remember drinking that much.”

“Neither can I. I think we have been drugged.”

“Drugged?”

“Somnafira, if he had to take a guess as to what. But there is worse news.” Leoff continued, though miserable as Vas was feeling, he didn’t really care much about anything but going back to sleep. “I think when we passed out they took all of our things, and they have locked us down here.”

“Our weapons?”

“Everything, even Loke. The only thing they have left is your lute.”

Now that last statement got the dark haired man’s attention, Leoff never let that sword out of his sight. Vas took a deep breath trying to think. It made sense. Why try and over power three strong young men, when you could slip something in their drinks and render them helpless. “That would explain the nakedness.” Leoff chuckled at this poor joke, but it was brittle, and Vas realised that Leoff was actually as panicked as the young man could be. Vas smiled wanly before falling back in to seriously. “What do you think they want with us?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t intend to hang around long enough to find out. As soon as we get out of here, we need to look for our stuff and then get out of here.”

“How are we going to open the door without Loke?” Vas asked, “You said it was locked.”

“It is.” Leoff replied. “We are going to do it the old fashioned way, why did you think I wanted you awake.”

“Don’t you think they will notice us trying to batter down the door?”

Leoff shrugged.

“And how are we going to find our stuff?”

“Find someone and ask real nice.” Leoff said darkly as he clenched his fist.

Vas sighed, knowing that arguing with Leoff would be hopeless. Woe betides the first person who ran in to the young warrior tonight. Leoff would do anything to get his sword back, not that he didn’t have good reason; the demon sword was truly dangerous in the wrong hands. They set about looking for a likely looking lever, or battering ram. Both of them moved unsteadily, like old men. Vas didn’t find anything that would be useful for the door, but he did find a few band boxed of clothing, including some shoes. Vas called Leoff over to take a look.

Leoff pulled a few garments and a wig out and looked at them with faint horror. “It’s nobles clothing!”

Vas looked over one of the frock coats. “Aspiring nobles, wealthy merchants probably, the quality is not that of a nobles. They are probably travailing to the Imperial city and sending their wardrobe ahead of them. ”

Leoff chucked the garments down scornfully. “I will not dress like a fop! And I will not steal!”

“So you would rather stay naked?” The dark haired man taunted gently as he picked out a pair of sturdier looking breaches, a linen shirt, and a nice waist coat. It was hard work getting dressed, he was all thumbs still, and every time he looked down he felt his head spin in the worst lurching way.

Leoff set his stubborn jaw for a moment, but then set about finding himself something to cover up with. It was more difficult for Leoff then Vas; whoever the unwitting donor of the clothes was, he was closer in build to Vas then Leoff. The shirts were lose enough if he did not try to do up the collar, but he strained the waist coats, and Leoff with his heavy muscled thighs struggled to get in to the narrow breaches, ripping at least one pair.

“These boots are not bad. Bit new, might be a bit tight, will probably rub my feet to buggery.”

Vas trembled, as the warrior beside him rolled on a pair of socks. The pale satin breaches clung to his rear like a second skin, and highlighted the young man’s slim waist, with such a good view of the young man’s backside “Buggery” was not a word that he wanted to be tempted with.

Leoff looked up, “What?”

“Nothing.” Vas replied quickly. “You look good that’s all.”

Leoff snorted derisively. “I look a fool.” He denied as he donned a cloak. He was about to say something when he suddenly stilled. Vas automatically tensed, ready, sending his friend a questioning glance. “I hear something outside.” Leoff mouthed and pointed, before moving over to one of the small round windows that looked over to the opposite bank.

The sounds of shouts echoed through the night. Vas rushed to look out of the next small window. “Hey look there, something’s on fire.”

“It looks like one of the other barges. This might be the distraction that we needed.” Leoff replied as he came to join Vas at the small porthole. They listened quietly to the sounds of bare feet running on the deck above them. “I think now might be as good a time as any to get out of here.”

Vas, put his hand over his heart and looking up uttered a brief thanks to the powers that may be. Their luck appeared to hold as their escape remained undiscovered when they managed to shoulder the door open. Or rather when Leoff managed to shoulder the door open, Vas was not much use, his body still heavy and useless. What ever they had been drugged with had left him still as unsteady as a newborn colt, and as week as a kitten.

They moved more carefully as they creped through the next hold and in to the living area of the barge desperately searching its nooks and crannies for their missing things. They have to have hidden Loke somewhere in here Leoff thought. The young warrior opened a curtain on what he thought was a cupboard of some kind. But when he did Ned the little boy stared back at him wide eyed and terrified, clutching at his blankets. Leoff put his hand over the boy’s mouth as he leaned in to the small nook that served as the boy’s bed.

“If you don’t make a noise I won’t choke the breath out of you here and now, do you understand?” Leoff said softly meeting the boy’s terrified gaze.

Ned nodded his eyes as wide as saucers.

Vas made a small noise of shock; and Leoff sent him a warning glance. Slowly Leoff removed his hand, but kept a firm hold of the boy. “I didn’t want to but Nana said that if I didn’t she would leave me here. I’m so sorry….. I don’t want to….”

“So you did drug us?”

“Leoff I don’t think…”

“Vas keep out of this.” Leoff growled. “Go on boy.”

“It wasn’t my idea.” The boy explained. “Mam said that we needed the money desperately and…I said that I didn’t want to, that you were my friends….Nana beat me and said that she would leave me here at the poor house…” The boy started to cry and continued to babble incoherently.

“Leoff?” Vas called again, this time with more insistence.

“What!” Irritated, Leoff snarled and turned just in time to watch his friend sway where he stood, staggering against the side of the wall, his hand over his chest. “My heart….” Vas murmured. “It’s jumping, like butterflies in my chest.”

Quickly Leoff was at his side, the boy forgotten. “Vas!”

The dark haired man sagged against him with a groan, his skin flushed and clammy where Leoff had hold of him. Leoff felt a tug at his sleeve, looking down Ned proffered up a pitcher of water. “I don’t think I trust it.” Leoff said simply.

Ned flushed, his face a mask of regret. “Sir I swear by me mam’s life that its naught but water.” He took a swig, “See sir. Sir Vas looks like he needs it. It was only Somna root, he will be better after sleep and water. ”

“Somnafira.” Leoff sighed. “I thought as much.” It was a strong sedative, colourless and flavourless, not particularly harmful, water and sleep would be the only cure. He looked down at Ned, noticing the dark bruises on the boy’s arms that were not there the day before. The young warrior nodded his assent when the boy offered the water again; taking the pitcher coxed his friend to take a drink.

“Feeling better?” He asked his ailing friend.

“A bit.” After a moment Vas rolled his eyes balefully up to the younger man. “I thought I was going to pass out for a moment.” Leoff passed the jug back to the boy and thanked him solemnly.

“Nan said that you are deserters, and that you deserve to be handed in. Your not are you?”

Leoff looked seriously down at Ned. “We aren’t deserters. Now, where our things? My sword, Ned it’s very important that I get my sword back. Has your Nan hidden them in here?”

"Here's your armour sirs."

Leoff looked through the bundle swiftly. "My sword is not here?!"

Ned shook his head and sniffed, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “No, the men took it off. I don’t know where they are.”

Leoff sighed, and pulled the armour on over the cloaths, helping Vas on with his. “Come on Vas we need to get out of here and look for Loke before something bad happens.”

They quietly made their way up on to deck, opening the hatch only wide enough to look out. Vas waited at the bottom of the steps anxiously. Now the hatch was open Vas could hear the sound of men on deck, all shouting at each other, along with a strange rhythmic creek of something metal. “How many are there?”

“I can see six, and the old woman. They are all working the pumps.”

The little boy came to stand by Vas. “Sir your not gona harm me Nan and me Mam are you?”

“It’s a desperate man that would hurt a woman.” Leoff said, and he meant it. “Get back in your bed where it is safe boy! Do you understand?” The young lad scampered back to his little nook, and shut fast the curtains.

Leoff staggered on the stairs with a surprised gasp. “The stairs they just moved!”

“No the whole barge moved.” Vas informed him looking out of the porthole, “They must be trying to get the pumps closer to the other barge.”

“We had better get on shore quickly then that is unless you fancy a swim?”

Even for Leoff much of that night would remain hazy in his memory. They had emerged hastily on deck to see the barge across from them ablaze and the barge people desperately trying to save it, but even in his fuzzy mental state he realised that the fires had spread unusually swiftly and he wondered what in the world the barge had in it’s cargo hold. The fire made the night brighter then a summers day, strange shifting orange light that seemed to dance before him, its heat stinging his skin. Shouts disturbed the night air like a storm, as confusion and panic reigned.

Silhouetted against the blazing warehouse were a small group of men engaged in a struggle. Vas was the one to recognise that one of the men was in fact Blake who was standing at the top of a stack of barrels, defending himself admirably from a group of barge men with nothing but a whip and a staff.

“We have to help him.” Vas called as he leaned over the railings pointing at his cousin franticly.

“We may have to help ourselves first.” Leoff said grimly as he noticed a number of men approaching them their figures hidden for the most part in the deep shadows cast by the fire. Their blades flashed in the firelight as they surrounded Leoff and Vas demanding that they surrender to the justice of the Empire. Leoff knew all to well what that meant, his sister had been subject to the “justice of the Empire,” after a spurious allegation, she had been thrown in a dark city gaol, she probably would have ended up in the arena had she not been brought by Lord Darcia.

Leoff had expected barge men armed with their belt knifes at worst (no trouble for an ex gladiator) he had not expected to be faced with a small force of armed solders when he got up on to the deck. Perhaps had they been at their best Leoff and Vas could have taken the heavily armed guards men, but as it was walking straight was proving an issue for the two young warriors, defeating twelve Imperial solders while unarmed was dam near impossible, and all their attempts to reason with them went decidedly no where.

He looked over the railing and in to the swift flowing, inky water beneath them as the men forced them back. “We may have to make a swim for it Vas.”

“We can still make the bank if we jump.” Vas argued, we will never be able to swim with this armour!"

“There’s no way to get past them, and they won’t be able to follow us in to the water.” Leoff argued but to no avail, as Vas pushed past him and tried to duck around the side of the men.

Leoff looked on in horror as the guards men moved to intercept Vas, their swords ready to bring him down as the dark haired man ignored their demands. He must have called after him in warning as Vas looked back at him, the fire light reflecting off the one solder’s sword glittering deep in Vas’s wide obsidian eyes. Without thinking Leoff was moving, and he leapt to his friend’s aid grabbing the man’s wrist, wrenching his sword from him.

Another of his fellows slashed at Leoff trying to free the man that Leoff was grappling with. Leoff dodged at the last second, stepping aside, but he was to slow, and the blade scraped down his arm plate, and down betwen the gaps untill he felt the tug of the blade on his left arm. He pushed the captured man back, sending him flying in to his own men as Leoff staggered back against some crates, tripping over Vas.

Leoff glanced down at the blood that ran down his arm, and decided that it was not life threatening. Vas however did not think so, as he swayed over to Leoff, exclaiming over his arm, foolishly undefended. Leoff had no time to call out a warning as the solders were upon them again. One of the soldiers lunged just as Vas turned. Vas fell forwards struck down as Leoff watched in unguarded horror as hit the floor.

Leoff met the soldier with a mighty battle cry, ripped from some outrage deep inside him, instinctively he moved to block and as he did the sound of steal upon steal met his ears. His muscles remembered what to do before his mind could catch up and with a snarl he pushed the surprised soldier back. He snarled, ready to kill every last bastard one of them even if they killed him in the process.

Something grasped his ankle and he looked down, it was Vas. “Your sword…”

Looking up in surprise firelight danced along the runes of the familiar blade that had materialised by magic in his hand. Ok, that was strange. That was relay strange. Leoff looked down at his hand and wondered if he was dreaming. “I’m to drunk to deal with this kind of shit!” Leoff dismissed as he pulled an apparently winded but otherwise uninjured Vas to his feet.

The soldiers looked uneasily at one another, unsure of what they had just seen. Leoff readied his stance and smiled, one would not say that it was a nice smile. But even with his blade in his weekend state Leoff knew that he would be hard pressed to win this fight.

“I can’t hold them off, you have to jump.” Leoff called to Vas.

When Vas made no move he turned from his fighting to see his friend griping the railings so tightly that his knuckles were white as he stared at the waters below. Leoff barely fended of another blow, the enemies blade cutting his arm, he cursed. “For the love of Helu Vas jump!”

“I can’t!” Vas wailed.

“Yes you can!” Leoff assured him, and with a grunt pushed Vas overboard backwards.

Time seemed to slow as Leoff watched Vas fall, his eyes wide and shocked, and his hands reaching out for him. Leoff could not remember hearing a splash over the general din, and it seemed as if his friend had been swallowed by the darkness itself. Vas’s flailed to the surface, and the rivers strong current soon bore him away and out of view, and the reach of the soldiers.

Climbing over the railings Leoff made ready to dive himself, he glanced up in time to see Blake jump from his spot on the barrels and volt to the dray horse that was pulling the barge that Leoff was upon, seeing Blake’s dilemma, fought his way around the side and severed the rope with one blow.

The dray horse free of its load and spooked by the strange rider on its back sprang in to a startled trot shaking its great head and kicking out at the men who were now trying to surround it.

Blake waved at Leoff. “Thanks! Where is Vas?”

“In the water!” Leoff shouted, the soldiers once more pressing him hard.

Blake reeled around, and shouted something that Leoff could not quite make out.

“What!?”

“He can’t swim.” Blake managed to call out before he was forced to turn the horse and make good his escape.

Blake’s words turned Leoff cold. “Why is it always out of the frying pan and in to the fire?” He thought as he launched himself in to the water.






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Veione woke with a very sore head, and feeling very sorry for himself. He couldn’t really find that he felt sorry for fighting with Timor. The blond captain had expected to be let out by noon. But midday came and went and still he was not released. One of Kef’s young recruits had come to give him bread and a large quantity of water. But the young man would not speak to him. Veione suspected Kef’s hand in that.

Two days wore on in the same fashion and Veione paced his cell like a caged lion. There was no use trying to escape, he had designed these cells himself. And Kef knew him to well to leave him with anything he could use to pick the lock. Knowing the burly and practical infantry man as he did Veione was surprised that the man had left him with his breaches on. It was funny how even though Veione knew the cell to be twelve foot by twelve foot for some reason the longer he spent in there the smaller it felt.


He wondered if he was being forgotten about, and embarrassment to be swept away. After all that was all he had ever been, even to his own family. Since Lord Darcia had seen fit to make him in to something useful Veione had not involved himself in any scandal or activity that would compromise his roles or duty. Lord Darcia’s silence on the subject had been comment enough. The Duke had not even seen fit to send for him.


On the third night, he lay half asleep when he heard the sound of boots approaching and saw torch lights casting flickering shadows along the corridor. It was late, midnight perhaps. It was probably another man caught fighting.


“Captain Faorin.” The men stopped outside his door, two big burly axe men, Kef’s men.


“And I had thought that you had forgotten about me.” He said.

"You need to put your hands behind your back." One of the men informed him politely.

The men said nothing. Veione snorted in disgust, "Three days without exersise stuck in a box, i wouldent treet a horse like that!"


When they did not answer he asked them. “I take it Kef gave you orders not to speak to me?”


“Put your hands behind your back Veione.” Kef said stepping from the shadows in the hall. “Don’t cause my boys any trouble, or you will only make it worse for yourself."


Veione sighed, Kef would mean what he said, and the man could dish out a hell of a beating if he wanted. And so Veione did as he was asked. “Is in this a bit over kill?” He asked shaking the chains that now were secured about his wrists, neck and ankles.


“It’s not my idea.” Kef shrugged, checking them.


“Then who’s?”


Kef glanced behind him, “You will find out soon enough.”


“That sounds ominous.”


“Now what?” Veione asked, “After been starved, now am I to be tortured? All I did was cause a bit of a fight.”


“You were hardly starved.” Kef replied. “It’s not my fault that you were to hung over to hold down naught but bread. If it were naught but a tavern brawl you would still be in trouble, ist a bad example to be setting. But you used your demon sword. You know the risks, and the rules. We all promiced only to draw them in times of need, in service of Marchaida. It was your idea."

"It was Darcia's."

"He saw it done. But you saw the need first. Your lucky that the Duke hasent decided to burn you alive! he has hung people for less." Kef nedent have botherd to tell Veione this, Veione knew full well what his cousan was capable of.

"So what has Lord Dracia decided." Veione said respectfuly. Blood they might be, but first and formost Darcia was his lord.

"He thought that you needed time to think.”


Veione blanced at this. More time spent in the gaol. He might prefer to be hung after all. "Chronos, he wants me to die of bordom! And i always thought that i would be riped apart by a team of horses!"

Kef growled. "Why must evrything be a joke with you Faoirn? This is a chance for you to think through whatever it is that has messed you up."


“I was thinking just fine before.”


“Away from the bottle.”


Veione didn’t have an answer for that. Kef laughed and secured the long chain to a ring at the back of the cell at that and then left with his men. “He’s all yours now.” He said to some one out of site.


“Kef, Kef, where are you going, you can’t leave me like this! Bastards!” Veione shouted after them, straining against his bonds, calling them every name that he could think of. He didn’t get any response from them, but it made him feel marginally better.


As he finished his rant he noticed a figure detach themselves from the shadows. The cloaked figure stepped in to the light thoughtfully left by Kef and his men. To his surprise it was the last person he thought that he would see, Vespa.

“And I thought that I knew how to insult a person.” She said. “Now what was it pig sucking, mattress stain? I liked that one in particular I will have to remember it for when I train my men.”

“Vespa, what are you doing here?”

“I’m not here to talk.” She put her leg up on the bed, letting it fall open to reveal her thigh high leather riding boots and a flash of bare thigh. She looked at him dead in the eye. “I’m here to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Well it doesn’t much matter what you think of it. Besides I’m giving you what you want. You should be grateful. You should want to lick my boots!”

“What do you mean what I want?”

Vespa dropped her cloak with a careless shrug of her shoulders; when she did Veione’s jaw fell open. She was wearing the black leather corset she wore as armour, without a shirt, or her over jerkin, and hiding her most intimate area was only a barely there leather string item that could barely pass as unaware. He hands and arms were covered by riding gloves, and on her face was a wicked smirk. In short she was standing right in front of him, dressed like the wet dream of every man at arms in Lord Darcia’s army.

Veione had the sudden urge to rub his eyes, but the binding on his hands prevented him. “What kind of lesson did you have in mind exactly?”


Vespa smiled archly at him. From out of her boots he watched as she pulled out a dagger. She very efficiently set about slicing him from his breaches. As usual he wore noting underneath and very soon was naked and venerable to her burning gaze. Still there was nothing in her touch to lead him to believe that this was going to turn in to a sexual encounter, she had been business like in removing his cloths, like a nurse removing a bandage, rather then a lover striping their partner of their cloths.


It was at this point that the blond captain noticed the long thin crop that Vespa was carrying. It was the kind of whip that he might use when schooling one of his horses, one to tap and tickle. But the way that Vespa swished it once let Veione know that he would not be as fortunate as his horses that night. Bound, there was nothing he could do but submit to whatever she had in mind, it made him feel very uneasy.


Deliberately Vespa came towards him. Her whip taped him on his cheek. “On your knees Veione.”


He rolled his eyes. At once he regretted this as the horse whip that she had in her hand was lain about his left thigh. He let out a cry of surprise jerking away. “On your knees.” His eyes met hers, and she did not flinch. Veione had played similar games before, but never with Vespa, and never on the receiving end; he wondered where she was going with it. The wicked bit of his heart was praying that she went through with this new act of hers to the very literal hilt. Reluctantly he did kneel before her.

“Your problem Veione is that no one has ever taught you any discipline. Your parents let you behave just as you wanted with no consequences didn’t they. You would throw your rattle from your crib hoping to get their attention. But it never worked did it. ” Vespa said as she walked around him, her boot steps echoing in the small cell. “Well this time it did, I’m here now Veione. And this is what you need.” When Veione opened his mouth to respond she whipped him again, harder this time. He hissed in pain, biting his tongue. Vespa looked down at him, her thin brows raised but he had got the message and he held his tongue. Never let it be said that Veione was a slow learner.

“Good boy.” Vespa smiled, tussling his hair. “I don’t blame you know. Your parents spoiled you. Sparing the rod spoils the child that is what my father always said. Now bow to me.”

This last command was punctuated by her boot on the back of his neck. Once his nose was touching the ground she eased off the pressure. “Now,” Vespa whispered in his ear as she secured his wrist chains to the floor, “when you’re thinking about how much this hurts - because it is going to hurt - I want you to remember that you brought this on yourself with your own stupidity.”

Vespa stood and looked down at him with some satisfaction. Proud Veione – for he was a proud man – was kneeling before her, bound and naked, hers to do what she willed with, totally in her power, to punish or pleasure at her whim. She let the blond man squirm for a few minutes, stroking the leather and hazel whip over his flesh over his back, buttocks and musically thighs. She then rained down a number of blows with her crop on his bare rump, and back.

If there had been any speculation about whether Veione would be silent, and take it manfully those images were soon dispersed. Veione did not flinch from the punishment she was dishing out. But he was vocal, just as he was in bed, about what he thought of Vespa’s treatment, and was putting his extensive and colourful vocabulary to good use.

Despite the pain, Veione managed to turn his head to watch her. In her fury Vespa was beautiful, glorious; perhaps even more so then normal, her face betraying usually guarded emotions and passion, her eyes intense green with anger. Truth was Vespa was furious and felt as though she couldn’t punish the man beneath her enough, though strike after strike met its mark on Veione’s chastised flesh. She struck so hard that her body twisted as her arm came down and whipped back, her pony tale swishing about her as she did.


“Ok.” Veione said panted through his gritted teeth, “I get it. I shouldn’t have fought against Timor.”

Vespa laughed at this but did not pause. The more Veione begged, the harder she struck. All the hurt and rage that she had bottled up for the past few days funnelled into her arm, her blows carrying far more than discipline alone. They communicated her hurt, jealousy and betrayal.


“I shouldn’t have got drunk for days on end!” There was still no answer for Veione, but the slash of the switch biting in to his bare flesh. “I shouldn’t have said those things for you. I was jealous, and they just came out!”

“You’re wasting your breath.” She warned him, and the whip fell again with a thwack, that he knew heralded pain a few short seconds later. “So, was it worth it? Would you still have done it if you knew this was coming?”


“For love of the Mother please stop Vespa!” Veione hissed in pain. “I never should have touched another woman after you! I get it, I really do. You have had your revenge now. I’m sorry, I really am.”


Vespa laughed softly. “I don’t think you do get it, Veione. It’s not just about you understanding your transgressions. Sorry means jack. You knew it was wrong before you even did it. Veione, you’re being punished. Nothing you can say or do now make this stop. When it comes to discipline, the matter is out of your hands. You promised yourself to me, and now your mine alone! I’ll drive that fact into you!”

Those words struck Veione with profound relief. Vespa was punishing him for his behaviour, but she was going to forgive him. She still wanted him, as pitiful as he was. And if she still wanted him then he could endure the torture, he would endure it, for her.


His cries for her mercy only fuelled Vespa’s anger, and Vespa derived great satisfaction in watching him suffer. Whenever she thought about Veione with another woman, she felt like wrecking a room, smashing windows and kicking in doors. If she could get her hands on the women, she’d gouge her eyes out with her bare hands. She simply couldn’t believe Veione had done it, not after what they had shared. On a very instinctual level Vespa wanted him to suffer, wanted him to experience in physical terms the pain that had tormented her since he had said those terrible things. As base as it may have been, she had been raised with the principle of an eye for an eye.


At last her fury abated, almost suddenly. The room fell silent, save their panting breaths. Vespa found that she was trembling, her strength spent. Red welts marked his back, like angry tattoos, but she had not broken his skin. Veione looked up at her from beneath his sweat drenched locks. Carefully he moved towards her, wincing as it pulled his sore muscles. She really had given him a hell of a hiding. Slowly he reached out for her one booted foot, taking in his hands reverently when he saw no censure in her eyes. “I don’t deserve you.” He said, and kissed the toe of her boot.


From the deep shadow of her lashes, her eyes glittered. “No you don’t. But I want you anyway.” She crouched down and pulled him up by and had full of his hair so that they were face to face. “You hurt me. Now we are just about even. I know you Veione. I know the man you are and the man you can be, and I will drag you with me kicking and screaming if need be. I know that you will always want to chase pretty skirts. But every time you do I will punish you like a dog and hopefully it will get through your thick blond skull that your mine, body and soul.”


With that she kissed him hard and pushed him back so that he was kneeling up again. Her lips travelled down his neck, biting and licking. It was another torture for him when he realised that he could not raise his hands to touch her in response. Her wicked hand found his most intimate of areas, and despite the burning of his back – which was considerable – he felt his desire stir. Her mouth found his again, and for a moment he was so distracted by this that he did not notice the strange things her hands were doing down below until he felt a sudden constriction about the base of his shaft.

“What the?” Veione looked down, and saw that Vespa had secured a leather nose about the base of his shaft.

Much to his relief Vespa undid his wrist chains from the floor, but when he reached for her she shifted away to stand away from where he could get at her. At his look of confusion she smiled. “Oh poor Veione, I should have warned you that your punishment isn’t quite over yet.”

Veione swallowed hard and covered his most delicate of areas noticing her gaze falling exclusively upon it. “I thought that perhaps we had had enough of that for tonight.”

“Oh don’t look so panicked Veione.” Vespa said, “I never said anything about pain.”

Veione’s face was dubious. With a wolfish smile Vespa went outside the cell only to retrieve Eyreale. Veione was struck by sudden comprehension.

“Oh dear gods no!”

Vespa knowingly ran her hand up and down the hilt of the sword, at which Veione swore long and low before moaning low. Her gloved hands explored the sword, and it felt like ghostly hands were travailing over his skin, sensitising it, tantalising him.

He watched in horror and fascination as Vespa’s plump mouth descended on the hilt. She liked along the shaft and he gasped. Then with deliberate slowness she let it slip in to her hot cavern. Veione could not help but cry out, his whole body straining, his hips arcing against a phantom pleasure.

Vespa couldn’t help but admire the view. The golden boy of the Duke’s army was lying out on the floor, writhing about sinuously, wantonly, out of control. He who had always been in control was now had no choice but to submit to her, and lose himself. However the nose she had placed about his swollen flesh was preventing him from reaching his completion, the rune spell upon it that she had wheedled out of Daen ensuring this.

“Cruel…. And….. unusual!” Veione panted.

Vespa laughed, and her hand wrapped around his shaft. The other still played with his sword hilt as she sucked and kissed his neck, whispering her dirty fantasies in to his ear.

“Oh gods my balls are going to explode!” He groaned, and she paused looking down at him. Veione sat up his pristine blue eyes all but glaring at her in wild desperation.

“Hurts doesn’t it.” She smiled.

“You have no idea.” He gasped and then cried out as her hot mouth descended upon his throbbing length. The sensations were shaped as her palms ran down his back to grip his abused backside. It ached, it stung, it was ecstasy, it was agony. Vespa was licking and sucking on him in the sensual manner designed to bring him quickly to completion. But today, the cavalier was not able to release his all consuming lust until Vespa allowed it, and he began groaning with frustration.


It was at this point that Vespa with the casual ease of one mounting a horse, mounted him. Moving aside the string of her underwear and guiding herself on to him. She took him with quick thrusts designed not to prolong the sexual act but to produce consummation in the most efficient way possible. No savouring, no holding back, just raw thrusting to get the job done. She had her head thrown back, her mouth red and open like ripe fruit, her nails scoring deeply in to his shoulders.

He felt her hand slip down. There was a sudden loosening in constriction and he watched as her hand lingered below, rubbing over the soft leather triangle that covered her most intimate area. The constriction returned as Vespa reached her peak, a violent, rippling wave that left her to breathless even to moan.

A series of quick gasps announced Veione’s impending release, and as he let go with a long moan, he looked straight into Vespa’s eyes where, for a moment, he saw a slight opening to the woman that he intimately knew, a small softening of the hardness that had settled there, and then it was gone.

"Now we are even." And then she was gone. And he was left alone once more.

Veione lay bent over for a moment, struggling with his emotions. Vespa had never treated him like this before, no one had ever treated him like this before. What by all that was holy had just happend?



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Leoff dragged himself and the unconscious man up the bank. Swiming with full armour was hard work. Clambering up on his elbow Leoff leaned over his friend desperately checking for signs of life. Vas’s skin was usually a rich tan, now there was a distinct blue tinge to it. The dark circles and his ebony hair made Vas look only the paler.

Leoff used three of his fingers and put them on Vas’s neck. Heart thumping, he waited and was relieved that he could still feel his faint pulse. Next, he bent down and turned his head above Vas’s head waiting in silence as he listened for his breath that did not come.

“Shit.” Leoff cursed. “Vas you can’t die on me.” as he turned her on him side and pounded on his back so he could cough out the water he’d inhaled. “Wake up! I need you, Vas! Wake up!”
“I won’t let him die. He means more to me then a brother…” Leoff frowned. He knew what he had to do, but it troubled him when he thought about it. He sighed. Vas’s life was more important then Leoff’s squeamishness.

Slightly lifting Vas’s head a little, and tilting his chin, he gently pinched his friends’ nose. Slowly inching forward, aiming for Vas’s mouth. Leoff closed his eyes and braced himself, taking a deep breath, his hand still pinching on his friend’s nose he pressed his own lips against the cold lips of the young raven black haired man watching as Vas’s chest raise when he breathed in to his lungs.

Encouraged by this Leoff continued breathing in to his mouth, even though he felt light headed in doing so. His lips are so soft, softer then I thought that they would be, the unbidden thought passed through Leoff’s mind, but he swiftly dismissed it as irrelevant.

Finally, Vas coughed and retched, a small torrent of water coming out of his mouth, leaving him gasping, but breathing on his own at last as his body convulsed, trying to rid itself of the last of the water. Still Leoff was not satisfied, Vas was not out of danger yet. A victim could survive the initial drowning, only for their lungs to become too damaged to continue functioning.

“Wake up! C’mon, you can do it!” Leoff encouraged Vas. The unconscious man’s eyelids fluttered open, and then closed again, the motion gentle as the beat of a butterfly’s wings.

“Vas wake up or I swear I will give you such a beating.”

His eyes opened again, once, twice, then closed, and he sighed and his body went limp.
“No! Wake up! Vas!” Leoff cried, frantically.


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Vas took a deep, shuddering breath the air smelt of musty hay. He coughed, panicking a little as he thought that he could still feel water stinging throat and nose. Opening his dark eyes he could see the night’s sky through a large open window.

A body shifted behind him, a strong hand patted his back, then rubbed until his coughing subsided before the warm body pulled away completely leaving Vas’s bare back cold.

“Leoff?” Vas croaked.

“I’m here.” Leoff soothed, as he craned his body over Vas’s. “It’s good to see you back in the land of the living.”

Slowly, it dawned on him what had happened. “I drowned… I can’t believe it…” Vas whispered. “Sorry to worry you…..Wait… If I was drowned…” A sudden memory assaulted him, the feeling if warm lips on his own, hot tears on his face…

He reached up and touched Leoff’s lips with his finger tips. “You saved me.” He said with awe.

Leoff flushed and caught hold of Vas’s hands gently pulling them away from his mouth. “well yer, I figured that I owed you. Gods Vas I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that you couldn’t swim, you should have told me you idiot! Anyway, how are you feeling now?”

“Like shit.” Vas replied, his voice soft and horse. “But no worse then is to be expected after being drugged, beaten, and drowned.” The young man lent over him, his pale eyes traveling over his body with keen scrutiny as if to assure himself that Vas really was alright. Leoff did not usually initiate any kind of body contact, but now his hands were moving surely and familiarly over Vas’s naked chest. Without warning he pressed his ear to Vas’s pectoral, apparently listening to his lungs. Vas was ashamed to admit that he was enjoying the young man’s attentions. Still it was depressing to think that he had to nearly die before Leoff would voluntarily touch him so gently.

“No clothes again.” Vas noted.

Leoff sat back. “We were both soaked through. You started shivering, it was the only thing I could think to do.” He added defensively.

“You did the right thing.” Vas assured him. He looked at his naked friend, admiring the heavy muscles, there was not an inch of Leoff’s body that was not toned. He followed the round muscles of his shoulder and down one arm to where a makeshift bandage was the only article of cloth that Leoff wore. “How is you arm?”

Leoff placed a hand over it. “It’s naught but a scratch. It’s healing well enough.”

“Where are we?”

“I’m not sure. Blake found this barn. We needed a safe place to rest for a while so I carried you here. It’s well hidden and miles from anywhere.”

Vas knew he was no featherweight, and once again he stood in awe of his friend’s strength. Strength that had now once again wrapped itself abound his back, as Leoff settled against him. “How is Blake, he escaped then.”

“I’d say. He saved us with his fire. Apparently the barge was full of rum. The girl he was laying with took a shine to him and woke him up, telling him everything, before her brothers were meant to come in and beat him senseless. He’s burned his hand, but nothing serious. ”

“Where is he?”

“Keeping watch downstairs. We have been taking it in terns. You have been out of it for a good day. ”

“Oh. So do you have to go soon?” Vas was horrified at how needy that had sounded, and he held his breath.

Leoff chuckled behind him, a deep rumbaing Vas felt more then heard. “No. Go back to sleep Vas. Gods know we both need it. And just so you know as soon as we have the time your learning to swim.”



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