Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter 35.
Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #35. Revenge misplaced.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non.

Rating: NC - 17
Abuse, Anal, Angst, BDSM, Bi, B-Mod, Bond, Death, D/s, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, M/F, M/M, Minor, N/C, OC, Oral, Preg, Rim, Spank, Violence, Voy, VS, WD, WIP.

Archive: Originals - misc. > Slash – Male/Male.
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism. Please rate if you do not want to leave a review.

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance of places and characters to actual persons, living or dead, and places is purely coincidental.
The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Authors Notes: For review replies, comments and thank you's go to: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/14530-polinues-marines-the-would-be-mage/
Oh, wow, guys. I’m so sorry for the late post, but I’ve been struggling with the worst writers block I’ve had in ages. This chapter just did not want to be written, and I think it’s crap, but at least it’s up now. Check the forum for thanks and apologies and all that.

Summary: Polinues and Brigale get themselves into trouble, and one will not get out unharmed.

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Chapter 35. Revenge misplaced.


“Polinues. Bags.” Leyjen shouted after the teen as he hurtled across the courtyard, yelling at Brigale, who was just about to ride out of the castle gate.

The tyro knight stopped, waiting for the novice to catch up.
He pulled Polinues up behind him on the horse and they took of towards the village of Marinesse.

“Little bastard.” Leyjen muttered under his breath, only the carriage driver hearing him, as the bags were thrown off the luggage rack, landing on the ground beside the cleric.
Leyjen picked them up, and carried them to Polinues’ room, tossing his own rucksack into his room as he passed it.

He unpacked Polinues’ things for him, taking the dirty laundry to the wash rooms along with things that were too small or ruined and put the boy’s books away. He took the pile of new ash grey robes to Lanja, she was the only one who knew how to sew in the system of laces and buttons that she had designed to keep the hood in place on her brother’s head at all times.
Despite only being at the castle for a week before his Life day Polinues still wanted his things to be in their right places, because it made him feel more like he was at home.


“What’s up with you, Polin? You’re being all twitchity.” Brigale said over his shoulder, nudging the novice with an elbow, Polinues tightening his grip around Brigale’s waist.

“Sorry, I’m just feeling antsy. I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m just nervous about the Life day party, and meeting dickface again. Where did you say you were going again?”

“I’ve got some stuff I’m supposed to pick up for your mum, and then I’ve got a special order with the smith. And then I’ve got to go see the saddle maker. He’s been repairing Thebirish’s bridle, putting new bits in and stuff.”

“You think we could stop at the tavern for a pint of honey brew? I’m really not in the mood to go home. Unfortunately Leyjen knows me too well to know when I’m faking sleep, so he got me up in time this morning.”

Brigale snickered, patting Polinues’ thigh in a friendly manner, and they rode the rest of the way to Marinesse in silence.


Polinues trailed behind Brigale, the things they were to pick up for his mother slung over one shoulder, Thebirish had been left outside the saddlemaker’s shop, while the boys finished their business in the village.

“You go to the tavern. I’m going to get my order from the smith, then I’ll meet you there.” Brigale said, waving the teen towards the tavern, while he turned down the street to the smithy.

Polinues was already halfway finished with his first pint when Brigale returned, and the two teens sat in silence for a long time.
Brigale got himself another pint of ale, secretly sharing half of it with Polinues since he wasn’t legally old enough to drink alcoholic beverages yet.
The suns sank into the eastern skies, and the couple of pints became four and then six, and finally ten. Brigale was sloshing back the dregs of Polinues’ fifth half-and-half when the saddlemaker’s apprentice came ambling into the tavern looking for Brigale.

The saddlemaker was steaming with anger when Brigale and Polinues showed up at his workshop, both a bit wobbly and grinning wide.
The boys ambled through the village, arms around each other’s shoulders, Brigale leading Thebirish behind him, their parcels slung over the saddle, and Polinues talking animatedly about his Turning of the Stage and the boy who had messed up.

Both were too sloshed to notice Charnig Lorie and his friend, Elonis, storming up the street on the farther side of the square with mayhem in mind.
Brigale and Polinues were already halfway across the square when they noticed the two villagers, and stopped.
Charnig and Elonis were coming around the side of the large well in the middle of the square, and Brigale stopped short. Polinues blinked stupidly at the pair, making a strangled little squeal in his throat, uncertain how to get out of this. Brigale’s alcohol sauced brain came up with a solution, and he started pulling Polinues around the other side of the well.

Both of them felt like complete idiots when Charnig and Elonis simply turned around and came around the well, heading the pair off, and cornered them by the winch.

Charnig had never been concidered a beautiful boy, not even as a small child. Ruggedly handsome were the words some of the girls used, while others left out the handsome bit.
Now there was even less reason to add that particular word to his description. The cut he had sustained the last time he’d run into Brigale had indeed scarred. The scar ran in a thick, jagged welt down his cheek, almost vertical, from his cheekbone to his jaw, the edges tattered and the scar itself a dark purple colour, that would probably never fade completely.

Charnig grabbed Brigale by his collar and slammed him against the winch of the town well, hard enough to bruise.

“Well, well, look who we found.” He hissed, his face only centimeters from Brigale’s face.

“Hey, Charnig. How you doing?” Brigale grinned wide, trying to sound cheerful, but the sound was too highpitched to be convincing, and Polinues’ nervous laughter only increased the absurdity of the question.

“How am I doing? Do you hear that, Elonis. The maggot wants to know how I’m doing. How do you think I’m doing, you pond scum?”
Charnig pulled Brigale closer to himself, their noses nearly touching and the older teen growled,
“Look at me! I’m scarred for life. The infection nearly killed me. Don’t think for a moment that I’ll foget this, Brigale. I’ll take it out on his hide. Mark my words, you whore’s bastard, I’ll make him pay for your handiwork.”
Charnig hissed his threats, pointing at the novice while he spoke, finally he pushed Brigale away, making him stumble into Polinues.

Brigale planted his feet firmly, imposing himself between the sheriff’s son and the knight’s son.
“You won’t dare to touch him. If you do, there will be Hell to pay. I will not let it go unpunished if you hurt him.” Brigale said, his shoulders squared, his jaw clenched and his left hand fingering the hilt of his massive longsword.

“This means war, Caronar. I swear on the name of my father, this is war.” Charnig growled, fingers flexing around the hilt of his short sword, Brigale responding by loosening his own sword in its scabbard.

“Bring it on, Lorie. I’ll protect him with my life, I swear on the name of my family, your war will be with me, and not him.”

“Brigale, I can fight my own battles…” Polinues started to protest, but Brigale cut him off with a nudge of his elbow.

The two teens stared each other in the eyes with a challenge, each waiting for the other to give up.
Charnig’s concentration broke first as Elonis began to pull him away by the tail of his tunic, because the sheriff of Marinesse was marching past them on the farther side of the well.
Brigale backed away as well, Polinues holding onto his arm until they deemed the distance safe to turn around and resume their walk back to the castle.

As they reached the road leading to the estates Polinues started laughing and chuckled,
“Oh, we’re in so much trouble.” Utterly oblivious of the seething anger in the tyro knight’s black eyes.

The two boys spent the following week driving the household insane and Leyjen to the edge of his rather impressive patience, which finally broke when Arlathi arrived at the castle the day before the twins’ Life Day, and Brigale greeted the younger twin by beating him up, for some jackassed comment he aimed at Polinues.
The twins made it through their Life Day celebration without any major incident, and Brigale and Polinues disappeared outside after the feast, to get away from the other two Marines boys.

Brigale stole a bottle of ale from the feast and the pair sat down under the weeping willows, sharing the bottle between themselves in silence.
The twin moons had reached their zenith when the two finally decided to go back to the castle, and to bed.

The bottle of ale got its revenge the morning after when neither one of the teens could be dragged out of bed before noon, and Leyjen had to ask the carriage driver to wait one more hour, four times.
By early afternoon Leyjen had decided he’d tie the brat up in a sack and take him to the Temples during the night, since the driver had already agreed to do it that way.

Leyjen ran into Brigale in the galleria hallway, as he returned to his room from the showers, Brigale ambling back and forth infront of Leyjen’s door.

“What the Hell do you want? Where’s Polinues?” Leyjen hissed at the teen, Brigale’s black eyes sparkling with an emotion Leyjen hardly ever saw in the tall, broad teen.

“Not here.”

“Well, I can see that. Where the fuck is he? Go and drag his ass out of bed, and tell him I’ll drag him behind the fucking carriage if he doesn’t get a move on.”
Leyjen growled as he threw his towel on the bed, dark auburn hair flying in all directions, spraying Brigale with drops of water.

Brigale gasped silently as the smell of opium assaulted his senses with almost a physical blow, and without any rational though he knew that even though Leyjen was furious with Polinues, he was also full of fear for the youngster.
And for no reason he thought that something in their relationship had changed.

He blinked his eyes a couple of times, clearing his mind, and leaning against the doorframe to appear less worried than he really was, he said again,
“That’s just it, Leyjen. He’s not here.”

“What do you mean, not here?”

“Like I said. He isn’t here. In the castle. I stole a bottle of ale from the feast yesterday, and we went out to the grove to drink it in peace. He got a little shitfaced, but I remember that I walked him back to his room before I went upstairs to mine, and he went inside. So, I know for a fact that he came inside last night.”

“So, did you look through all of his rooms? Maybe he went to the study to write in his journal and fell asleep at his desk.” Leyjen asked with a hitch in his voice that Brigale did not like.

“I’m not stupid, Leyjen. I checked every one of his rooms, I even checked the wardrobe, and the library. I went through Arlathi’s rooms, and then the bath hall. I went through the laundry rooms, and then I went to the kitchen. Cooksie told me he’d been in there shortly before noon, claiming he was dying and begging her for some bacon, and something for the hangover. She said he left the kitchen through the back, and looked like he was headed out to the willow grove.”

“And? You’ve been out there to check if he’s passed out there?”

“No. I was actually coming to see if you’d seen him, and if you hadn’t then I was going to ask you to come with me to the grove to check on him. I’ve got a shitty feeling about this, Leyjen.”
Brigale stared at the older cleric with such intensity that Leyjen felt his own heart sink.

He knew the spells that protected the castle and the entire estate, from one end to the other, and he knew beyond any doubt that there was no way the Vampyr had gotten through. Yet, despite all the precautions, Tisék had gotten far too close, and there was no knowing how many of the Vampyr were after Polinues.
Therefore it was impossible to know how many underlings the Vampyr had chasing after the Temple novice.
Leyjen forced back the feeling of despair that crashed through him, and reminded himself he had to remain focused, or he would lose this war once again.

“Give me a minute, let me get dressed.” He said hurriedly, and Brigale stood outside his door while the cleric threw on a pair of linen trousers and a hemp tunic he dug out of his closet. He wasn’t supposed to wear civilian clothing after reaching the sixth stage but sometimes the circumstances just called for breaking the rules.

When they reached the willow grove on the banks of the Peolin Sea, there was no Polinues there, but there were evidence of a struggle.
A wooden cup lay broken by one of the trees, looking like someone had trampled it, a torn piece of Polinues’ tunic clung to a branch, and a mass of footprints made it almost impossible to see whether Polinues had been taken alive, or how many the abductors had been.
Leyjen had to physically restrain Brigale so the tyro knight wouldn’t run off after the kidnappers when they found a trail outside the grove, which seemed to be headed towards the forest that bordered the estate to the north.

They went back to the castle, secretly gathering a few men that both trusted, arming themselves and then taking off again, Brigale tracking the abductors with amazing speed.
By the time they reached the forest the suns were sinking below the eastern horizon, and the track became harder to follow, even though a couple of the men bore torches.

Brigale lead the group deep into the forest, doubling back a few times when he thought he had lost the trail.
They had followed the trail far into the forest, and night had fallen when Brigale stopped, uncertain where the trail was and the men started talking of going back to the castle and organize a proper search party. Brigale and Leyjen objected to that idea, but the men were not easily persuaded. Leyjen was about to give in to their demands when a cry rose through the darkness, startling even Brigale.

A couple of the men took off without another word, shouting back some nonsense about devils in the forest, while Brigale and Leyjen took off in the direction of the scream.
Both had recognized Polinues’ voice in the painfilled wail.
The remaining men followed them, the screams leading them deeper into the forest until suddenly they came to a small gorge cut deep into the forest floor.

The gorge was wide and round, a small bowl flanked on two sides by high cliff walls, but open on two sides by gentle slopes that ran through the gorge, a small creek flowing against one cliff. At the bottom of the gorge was a clearing, a flat bowl of grass where a campfire burned brightly.
The tracker that carried the remaining torch snuffed the light out quickly, and the group crawled to the edge of the cliff, taking in the scene below.

Charnig Lorie and his friend Elonis were sitting on a log beside the campfire, three more of their followers sitting on the ground around them, shouting encouragements to a fourth follower that stood by an old roganwood that grew at the mouth of the gorge.
As the trackers’ eyes adjusted to the dim light at the bottom of the gorge they could make out that the fourth man was holding a bullwhip, preparing to strike.

Brigale had to restrain Leyjen when they finally made out what the fourth man was doing with the whip under the roganwood.

A rope had been looped over one of the lowest branches, and hung at the end of it by his wrists was Polinues.
His tunic had been torn off his body, and the high waistband of his linen trousers pulled down to his hips, his back exposed, his toes barely touching the ground.

Charnig’s lackey raised the whip to the cheers of his friends and the black leather licked across Polinues bare back, splitting the skin, drawing a long wail of pain from the teen, but cheers from Charnig and his friends.
Brigale could hear Leyjen sobbing beside him, the other trackers gasping at the viciousness of the village youths.
Brigale crawled away from the edge, pointing the others to follow him, until they were safely away from the gorge. Quickly they formed a plan, and Brigale dashed off towards the gorge again.
Leyjen had to take a moment to wipe his face on his sleeve as another scream of pain erupted through the darkness, and Polinues’ voice broke from the strain. But they were all in place when Brigale stormed down the slope into the gorge, screaming for Charnig.

“Lorie! Let him go. I told you I would not let any crime against him go unpunished, and still you kidnap him. You really must be as stupid as they say you are.”

Charnig rose to his feet in a lazy manner, the other boys remained on the ground, staring up at their leader with awefilled admiration.

“Finally. You know I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all. I’ve been waiting for hours. I told you I would take this out on his hide. He still owes me ten lashes, and now he owes Elonis some teeth.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Lorie? You’re mental. He’s the ThainKnight’s son. You’re going to be punished severely for this.”

“I want my ten lashes, Caronar. I will not let him go unpunished.” Charnig screamed, stomping a foot, making Brigale grab the hilt of his sword and loosen the blade in the scabbard.

“What the Hell are you talking about? How does he owe you ten lashes? For what?”
Charnig’s half crazed grin chilled the tyro knight to the bone, and Leyjen came crashing through the bushes to stand by Polinues, even though that had not been a part of the plan.
Charnig glared at the cleric, the teen with the whip sidestepping nervously because Leyjen was in the way.

“I spoke to my father, and a few others, about what the appropriate punishment for your crime was. All of them agreed, fifteen lashes is an adequate punishment, and I intend to collect it. Also, when we grabbed him, he kicked Elonis so hard in the face that Elonis lost four teeth. Now Elonis wants to be reimbursed as well.”

“You stupid pagani, adequate punishment means there has to be a crime to punish for. Me beating you in a fight does not constitute a crime. We’re taking him with us, and I suggest you and your dogs take off. We will bring this before the ThainKnight and then even your Sheriff father will not be able to save you. This is too serious to go unpunished.”

Charnig glared at the tyro knight, his eyes glittering with fury, and his five friends gathered around him. Elonis whispered something into Charnig’s ear, which was answered with an elbow to the sternum, but the Sheriff’s son seemed to falter for a moment.

Brigale eyed Polinues and Leyjen over his shoulder, two of their men coming to their aid, while Brigale drew his sword halfway out of the scabbard, taking up a position midway between the villagers and the clerics.

Leyjen and the trackers cut the half unconscious Polinues down from the tree, Leyjen cradling him in his arms and the group started backing out of the gorge, while Brigale remained to challenge the Sheriff’s son.
Charnig and his lackeys stood their ground until Brigale began to back away, then Charnig took a couple of steps after the tyro knight, only to have Elonis grab him by the shoulders and pull him back.

When Brigale reached the treeline at the edge of the gorge he shouted back to the villagers,
“I suggest the six of you take off and disappear. Lord Wrailan will not deal with you gently, and we will tell him what we saw. You will have a headstart until we reach the castle. Once we’re there we will return with more men to find you.”

“Why do you warn us, and tell us to take off?” Charnig shouted back, a look of uncertainty on his face but his mind going through every possible reason for Brigale to do this. The surprise he showed at Brigale’s answer was evidence enough that he had thought of every reason except that particular one.

“Because of what I did. This is my way of apologizing for giving you that scar. We are even now, Charnig, if and when we ever meet again it will be war between us.”
Brigale’s words hung in the air for a few moments after the tyro knight disappeared into the darkness of the forest, and Charnig made a quick salute after him.


Brigale found Leyjen and the trackers on the path they had followed into the woods, Polinues cradled in Leyjen’s arm, unconscious and bleeding from the long gashes on his back. The front of Leyjen’s tunic was already soaked through.

“Here, I’ll carry him back.” Brigale offered, as he reached out for the teen, but Leyjen took a jerking step back and hissed,

“No. He’s my responsibility, he’s my burden to carry.”
Brigale stared after the slim cleric as Leyjen took off down the path, carrying Polinues with such gentleness that it was almost troubling.

The trackers followed Leyjen at a respectful distance, but Brigale shadowed the cleric close enough to hear the whispered words that Leyjen kept breathing into Polinues hair and face.
“I’m sorry, Ilithil, I’m sorry. I should have protected you better. I should have been there for you. This is all my fault.”

The twin suns were rising above the mountains to the west when the group finally reached the castle, Lord Wrailan jumping into action as soon as he saw the state of Polinues.
He roused up a large group of workers from his estate, knights and tyro knights, as well as the Sheriff of Marinesse and his men.
When the trackers, Brigale and Leyjen told them who was responsible for the attack and what they had seen, the Sheriff stepped outside for a moment with his second in command, but then returned with bloodshot eyes and a determination to find the culprits and bring them to justice.
Brigale stood on the front steps of the castle, a little lightheaded from lack of sleep, watching the group ride off in the direction of the woods.
He had told them where to find the gorge, and had been given orders to catch up on some sleep, an order he had every intention of following.

Leyjen worked far into the day alongside the physician, Hiram and Thelaura, mending the five gashes that streaked across Polinues’ back. Two of them had to be stitched together, but the other three were shallow enough to only need cleaning and dressing.
Polinues remained unconscious through the proceedings, only twitching slightly as Leyjen sewed his skin together. Once they had cleaned and dressed his wounds, Leyjen sat by the boy’s bed, stroking one of his hands gently, speaking with Brigale in whispers when the tyro knight came to see them.
Arlathi tried to make a scene when he realized his twin was still at the castle, but amazingly enough Belnsair shut the younger twin up by dragging him away by the collar of his shirt.

Lord Wrailan returned with the gathering darkness, saying that the group had apprehended one of the offenders when he returned to his father’s farm to say his farewells. The boy refused to reveal where his fellows were but the Sheriff was still out looking with a large group.

The physician demanded Polinues remain at the castle for a week, before he’d be fit enough to travel back to the Temples, and it was just expected that Leyjen remain by the teen’s side. Polinues woke up in the evening of the day after his rescue, sore and angry.
His anger burned low when Leyjen told him what had happened, and for an entire night Leyjen watched Polinues, while Polinues lay in the bed staring into space without the slightest flicker of emotion.

The next morning while Leyjen was helping Polinues eat his breakfast, the teen looked into Leyjen’s eyes and asked,
“You’ll get them for me, won’t you, Leyjen? You’ll find them and kill them all?”
Leyjen shivered at the calculated coldness in Polinues’ tone, but he didn’t answer, only nodded his head slowly.


During the week that the two clerics stayed at the castle the trackers found three more of Polinues’ attackers.

One gave himself up to a group of trackers that had been returning to their base by the highway.
The man had come crashing out of the woods, his clothing torn, his body covered in strange clawmarks, and he screamed that he had been attacked by a deamon. The ThainKnight and the judge could never get anything remotely intelligent out of him, except that Charnig had been behind the abduction and torture of Polinues, as revenge for the scar he had suffered after his fight with Brigale. The man was locked up in an asylum for the insane, and he remained there for the rest of his life, plagued by dillusions about yellow eyed monsters.

The other two men were discovered on two separate occasions, in different parts of the forest, their bodies mauled by claws and fangs, and their throats ripped open in the most savage way.
Both bodies were burned where they were found, and the search went on for another moon, the trackers chasing after the fourth man, the one who had wielded the whip, only to have him slip through their fingers time and time again.
Charnig and Elonis on the other hand seemed to have vanished completely.

The Sheriff of Marinesse gave up his position and retired with his family across the Tharsirium mountains, claiming that the shame his son had brought on the family was too much for him to remain at Marinesse.

The judge issued arrest warrants on Charnig, Elonis and the fourth man, and Lord Wrailan declared them outlaws.
By Lord Marines’ orders the surrounding Thaindoms also issued similar declarations, and offers of rewards for information were made publicly.
None of the men were found.

Polinues and Leyjen returned to the Temples in sombre moods.
Polinues cuddled against Leyjen’s body in the carriage, craning his neck to plant a chaste kiss on Leyjen’s lips, and whispered into the older man’s mouth,
“Thank you for killing them for me, Leyjen.”

They did not speak of it again.