Date: Fri, 27 Dec 2013 19:54:07 -0500
From: redpatience@Safe-mail.net
Subject: The Magpie and the Prince part 3

V. Ticks

	On the second day after the Paladin uncaged him from the wagon,
they reached a dark wall of briars that marked the boundary to the forest
of Eom, the ancient and near-impenetrable wood of yew trees so burled and
twisted and tower-thick that no saw could cut them. It was so
infrequently-crossed that it had served for centuries as a barrier between
the kingdom of Chaldicia and the kingdom of Hana. Myths told that it was
filled with dark beasts from the time-before-men and crones who rode on
giant pestles and ate children alive. Irau never thought he would see the
place in-person.
	Within, it was so dark and tangled that Irau quickly felt his
breath growing short. Yellow fungus balls the size of his head grew all
over, clinging to the sides of trees. When they poofed clouds of spores,
Ten hissed and used his cloak to mask his eyes, mouth, and nose while he
ran away from them.
	"Why are we going through here?" Irau demanded, uncovering his
face.
	"Because we're being followed by an assassin. A living assassin,"
the Paladin added, noting the color draining from Irau's cheeks. "Nothing
with a pulse will follow us in here. Or if it does, it won't last long."
	"What makes you think we will?" Irau asked derisively.
	"I've done it a dozen times," Ten said. "And I lived in it for a
year, once."
	"Oh," Irau whispered.
	At the trigger of Ten's words "nothing with a pulse", the boy could
not help but think of coarse groan and wheeze of that monstrous boar. As
they tramped down into the hollow of the wood, his skin turned clammy and
cold sweat pricked his back.
	"You are thinking of that creature," Ten whispered.
	"Yes," Irau confessed.
	"Let that go. The forest of Eom is ancient and frightening, but the
underspirits are powerful here. They will not harm us if we know the ways
of supplication.
	They went to the mightiest tree they could find and offered broken
bread, wine, water, and burnt balsam sap for the deities of the wood. Irau
had not seen the rite done like this, but it was close enough to his
people's practice that he felt more at ease the domain of the spirits.
	They passed under boughs so dark and dense it seemed that night had
fallen; they picked their way through, leading the horse on foot because
the roots were so tangled and high that she could not find her way without
constant, delicate guidance. At last, they came to a river, or rather a
vast lagoon of mossy islands and tall yew trees webbed with streams. They
waded through ford after ford of icy water until at last they reached a
couple of yews that grew together in a sort of arch. A broad, soft bed of
moss grew up around them. Here, they made a shelter and took of their
soaked boots.
	"No fire," Ten whispered, "or we will ruin whatever grace we have
with the deities of the place."
	They feared to talk too much or too loudly, as this too would
disturb the forest, but it did not stop Ten from communicating his needs to
the boy.
	"Take off your clothes," the Paladin said flatly. It was not a
request. "There are a lot of ticks and leeches here. We need to check each
other."
	Irau felt a chill go up his spine. He suggested that Ten go
first. The man shrugged off his cloak and removed his belt heavy with many
knives and pouches. Then he shucked his tunic over his head, and his supple
black breeches off his legs, until he wore only his wool underclothes,
baggy and eaten with holes. He slithered his way out of these as well, and
Irau gulped in awe.
	Ten was a wonder of knotted muscles and lean, long limbs. His body
was almost as smooth as Irau's, but his shoulders were broader and he stood
at least two heads taller than the boy. His curly black patch of pubic
hair, and the weighty member and testicles that dangled beneath them
petrified Irau. The boy's cock slid along his leg, swelling uncomfortably
between his thigh and the tight hide of his breeches.
	"Well," Ten said, "check me over. Don't inhale, I won't smell
nice."
	Irau was then obliged to look over the man's whole body for
ticks. Ten pulled up his bollocks and straddled the ground so Irau could
check in the crevice between his thighs. The boy looked in his armpits and
all over before Ten turned and parted his square, muscular buttocks. The
boy could not help but catch that pungent smell, not revolting as he
expected it to be, but strangely intoxicating.
	"See anything?" Ten asked.
	"N-no," Irau whispered, unable to take his eyes off the man's
puckered purple anus. Ten knelt abruptly and piled his long hair up on his
head. Irau looked over his big muscled shoulders and armpits and back, and
then parted Ten's glossy black hair again and again, praying that his stiff
erection would go away by the time he finished.
	"Oh," he said in dismay. "I found one."
	The grey parasite ballooned at the back of Ten's scalp.
	"Be careful," Ten urged.
	"I know how to pull them out, I'm good at it," Irau said.
	"No, I mean--if it's at all possible, try not to kill it."
	"What? Why?"
	"Please," Ten urged.
	The boy took the back of the man's knife and a flat stick and pried
the parasite out, smashing it to death in the process but cleanly removing
the head.
	The Paladin winced and asked where it went. Irau gestured down into
the moss and the Knight sat, naked, and cupped his palms at his breast. He
whispered a prayer seven times, then blew on the dead insect.
	"What was that for?" Irau asked.
	"For it to return in a better place. Alright," the Knight said,
standing. "Off with your clothes."
	Irau suddenly realized he still had much of his erection.
	"Uh," the boy stammered. "Don't you want to put your clothes on?"
	"It is chilly," the Paladin smiled.
	Irau took his clothes off as slowly as he could and by the time Ten
had tied his belt back on, the boy's cock was relatively soft.
	Ten knelt right in front of the boy's groin, grinning. Irau pulled
his bollocks out of the way and spread his legs, then turned. He had hardly
done so when he felt the man's strong, long fingers part his buttocks for
him. A chill of excitement flushed over him and he felt his penis lurch
again.
	"Nothing in there," the Paladin said, "yet."
	"What?" Irau asked.
	"Nothing."
	Ten stood and checked over Irau's shoulders and back before telling
him to get his clothes on. "I'll check your hair when you're dressed."
	Ten sat with his legs out at right angles and invited the boy to
sit in front of him. Irau did, and the man squeezed the boy's shoulders
before he began to look for vermin. It felt so nice to have the man
touching him, close to him, caring for him; Ten preened the boy for a long,
long time, perhaps much longer than he needed to necessary, but Irau said
nothing. He just enjoyed the sensation of fingers combing through his hair,
and rubbing at his scalp, and pulling at his ears.
	"Now my beard," Ten said.
	Irau bit his lower lip. It felt awkward, the Paladin jutting his
chin up skyward as the boy combed through his facial hair.
	At last they were finished, and Irau gave the man a rare and
uncontrollable smile.
	"What's that for?" Ten asked.
	"Nothing," Irau said firmly.
	They sat close that night, sharing the last of a little
brandywine. When night fell they huddled together against the horse, Ten's
cloak spread over both of them. The stream brought cold air in draughts,
and soon Irau was shivering, his breath showing in dimness of the
starlight.
	"Come here," Ten whispered. He wrapped the boy up in his arms,
making a perfect spoon against the back of the lad's knees. This time to
both his excitement and his agitation, the man's hand lay on Irau's flat
tummy, rubbing it in slow, gentle circles. It felt soothing and nice, but
the boy also felt his cock straining against his leather breeches.
	"Stop," he pleaded weakly.
	"I'm sorry," Ten whispered.
	"No, don't. Don't be sorry."

VI. The White Conch

	The boy dreamt, after a while, but dreamt he lay in the same place
in that old forest, looking out into the dark. Then, he smelled the stench
of rotting flesh. Across the streams, two glowing red eyes opened. Then
five. Then ten. Then dozens. The skeletal children he had seen dragging
bodies hobbled around in the dark, avoiding the water but trying to find a
way across. Irau found himself gasping, elbowing Ten in the ribs. He then
realized to his even deeper horror that he was awake.
	"I see them," Ten whispered.
	"They found me," the boy wept, "help me kill them, oh please!"
	"They cannot cross the water," Ten explained, "but neither can we
harm them. They would spoil this forest and spread the sickness here, as
well. We are not powerless, though."
	Ten stood, then, and the skeletal band all snapped and champed
their jaws at him over and over in a strange, threatening song. A score of
them were pulling a long fallen tree over to make a bridge over the
water. Ten shouted a single syllable that made Irau's whole body jolt awake
and feel invigorated and fearless. It seemed to have had the opposite
effect on the creatures, for the red eyes dimmed and some of them seemed to
have sunk to their knees. As they regained their strength and continued to
heft their wooden bridge into place, the Paladin dug through his saddlebags
and removed something. He slipped his fingers into the depths of a sacred
white conch, brought it to his lips and blew.
	It sounded clear and sonorous and made all the fell things across
the water hiss and pop like nuts cast into a fire. When the sounding of the
conch ended, some were on their knees and others had fallen to the
earth. Again, the Paladin blew the conch, and this time white fire erupted
all over their bones; the troupe of undead children hissed and fled through
the forest away from trumpet after trumpet of the conch, until they had
been reduced to powdered bone or driven so far away they would not be able
to find their living prey again before dawn.
	Irau's hands were gripped in front of his chest. He had sat and
watched the whole thing on bated breath; the Paladin was all that he
claimed and more. He was good, and virtuous, and kind.  He was everything
Irau had hoped and prayed for. Tears of relief and hope streamed from his
face as he looked at the man with new perspective.
	"How did you do that?" Irau asked.
	Ten was sitting on the mossy bank, breathing heavily. If the boy
could have seen better in the darkness, he would have noticed the man's
eyes had gone bloodshot and his hands were shaking.
	"I do nothing," Ten said weakly, "but use what the magician gives
me."

VII. Old One Ear

	Over the next days, the weather grew fair and golden. One morning
they wandered through an apple orchard too early for anyone to catch them
picking their breakfast from the trees. The grass was wet and Irau's feet
were freezing and soaked, but he still felt elated and blissful just to be
with Ten. The Paladin was so handsome and sweet, and though he never kept
anything secret that Irau wished to know, the combination of his
magnificent power and self-abnegating modesty made him more mysterious than
anyone the boy had heard of even in songs.
	When Irau expressed this in halting and embarrassed ways, the
Knight only laughed. "I am actually very ordinary."
	"You lie!" Irau laughed. "You are the right hand of some great
wizard. You set the undead on fire with a seashell. You can knock a man
dead with your thumb!" the boy exclaimed. His cheeks were rosy in the chill
and his eyes sparkled with adoration.
	"Those are silly tricks," the Paladin said very solemnly. "Wait
until you meet the Magician."
	Irau bit his apple thoughtfully as they crossed onto the highway
from the orchard. "How did you come to be this wizard's...Pala--"
	"Paladin. It's a kind of knight."
	"Like a warrior?"
	"It's a silly title. The king of Merouvin gave it to me
after--after a battle. It means I'm supposed to be very holy or
something. That I never fart."
	"You don't," the boy giggled, "I haven't heard it once!"
	Ten's tanned face broke into a smile.
	"Tell me the story," Irau begged. "Please?"
	"Very well," Ten agreed. "But only the parts I choose."
	Ten said he had been about Irau's age. His family was a big one,
and they farmed a lonely stretch of gravel between the mountains and the
sea. He ate nothing but fish, beets and cabbage until the age of fourteen;
he said it was a miracle he wasn't still purple. War came to the kingdom,
and he was conscripted into the army of six warlords who besieged the
library city of the south. The soothsayers claimed it was a doomed company,
however, for the library city was under the protection of a sacred magpie.
	"The warlords did not believe this, however," Ten said, "and had
the soothsayers' tongues cut out."
	"That's awful," Irau whispered. He paused. "Were they right?"
	"Yes. The magpie was a magician. He still is. He goes by many
names. He's my merciful wizard, you see. He's very old but looks
ageless. In fact, I'm beginning to look older than him. He is very
powerful. He never competes, but he always accomplishes his aim. At least
in part."
	"But you were his enemy?" Irau asked.
	"He would say no. He would say that he has no enemies, only many
very confused friends." At this memory, the Paladin laughed. "He serves no
warlord nor King, nor the bureaucrats of the Library City, nor the Old
Gods, nor the new God. He serves the one called the Teacher of the Gods,
the Awakened One, the World Nurse, the Protectress of all Beings. Have you
ever heard of her?"
	"No," the boy whispered, "is this your Goddess?"
	"In many ways, yes. But she is not really a God. She was an
ordinary woman who lived many thousands of years ago and saw the truth
behind things and taught the way for humanity to become free like her. She
can appear as a god, or a goddess, or man or woman, or animal, or even
something like a bridge or a jar of medicine. Or a white conch. Anything to
succor those who suffer. She is the power that we serve. The teacher we
follow."
	The boy did not really understand, but he liked the idea. "I think
I worship the same goddess," he said. "We call her the Mother of the
Gods. She's the oldest thing in the world, or rather, we say she was the
midwife of the world."
	"They might be the very same, for all I know," Ten said, and
smiled.
	"Tell me then, about the war," the boy prodded.
	Ten's face darkened. "Yes," he murmured.
	The armies were sent to storm the city walls, but Ten's band was
sent to attack this Magpie. The warlords were clever enough to know that
the soothsayers had at least some grain of truth, so they sent three
hundred men to the Tower of the White Deer where this sorcerer lived. It
was a very small fortress in the hills behind the library city, a place
where the order of the White Palm had a monastery for a hundred years. On
the way, the platoon all got lost in fog except for seven soldiers who
found themselves at the monastery tower. They broke into a fortress that
had no locks, no guards, and no weapons inside.
	Within, they had found a very young looking man in a room full of
books. In spite of the rainy day, his library was filled with sunlight.
	"What did he look like?" Irau asked.
	"I was going to say, just be patient," Ten said. "He had long black
hair, very wavy, all bound back with a red ribbon. He wore a cloak of
powder red thrown back from his shoulders and he had many layers of flowing
robes of every shade of gold and blue. And a rainbow-crystal rosary hung
around his neck."
	"Like opal?" the boy asked.
	"Yes. Except brighter. It actually sheds rainbows, even in the
dark. It's called The Simala. The radiant garland. Anyway," Ten said, "he
looked up from his books and smiled at me. I had broken into his study with
a spear and a shield and five brutes armed with clubs behind me, and he
just smiled and called us by our names and asked if we were hungry."
	Irau laughed. "What did you do?"
	"We attacked him," Ten said sadly.
	"Then what?" the boy asked, his eyebrows floating higher and
higher.
	"He beat us senseless, of course" the Paladin said, as if it should
be obvious.
	"What? How? He does not sound like a warrior!"
	"He's not a warrior. He's a thousand times more dangerous! He's a
wizard. He grabbed a willow wand about as long as his arm and--" the knight
slapped the boy in the face very softly, but hard enough to surprise him.
	"He disarmed and caned us all one at a time. Like a mother with
naughty children."
	Irau laughed again. He was utterly enchanted. "Then what?"
	"Well. The short version? I fell in love," the Paladin said,
simply.
	"With a woman? Where did she come from?" the boy asked in
confusion.
	"No!" the Paladin laughed, looking Irau in the eyes. "I fell in
love with a wizard."
	The boy's mouth made a small circle.
	"Did you know that men could love men? Or boys?" Ten asked.
	"I knew that men could use boys," Irau said solemnly, "I did not
think--no. I did not know that."
	"I loved the one-eared sorcerer," Ten said. "I still do."
	"What did you call him?" Irau asked, stopping in the middle of the
road.
	"One ear. It's one of his names. It's a little secret that one of
his ears is missing. He uses an illusion to mask it. I wouldn't usually
reveal such things about him, but he told me I should tell you anything you
wanted to know about him. That you would need as much knowledge as
possible."
	The boy dug through his pack until he found a wad of brown
cloth. He unwrapped it, and held up that withered, blackened thing for the
Paladin to see.
	"We call him the storyteller," the boy said, his face alive with
hope and fear, "I was sent away from my people to find him."

VIII. More Mysteries

	If men could love boys, did that turn those boys into women? Did
they become weaker or stronger from dipping their cup into the wine of one
another? What did each of the Gods think of these things? What did his own
Goddess think? What did the local spirits think? What did the ancestors
think? Why had he never heard of this in the songs of the Five Kingdoms, or
in the songs of his own people?
	When these men and boys coupled, did it always cost one tears to
give the other delight? Were there countries where such loves wed, or grew
old, or died together? Were there lovers like this among his own people?
The Paladin had seemed so many times to read his thoughts; could he hear
all these queries that rang in Irau's head?
	"Why don't you just ask me?" the Paladin said softly, warming his
hands over their fire.
	"You hear my thoughts?" Irau's face burned with shame.
	"Only very rarely, actually. When when you are very, very obsessed,
or very, very distressed."
	"So you know what I was just thinking," the boy said.
	"Not most of it. But even somebody without clairvoyance could see
you have questions. So just ask."
	Irau swallowed, and began his inquisition.