Date: Tue, 16 Oct 2001 07:08:33 EDT
From: Dragonknight2222@aol.com
Subject: The Knight and The Healer

Disclaimer: if you don't approve of homosexual activities between to men
then you won't like this story, please leave.  Also, if you are under 18
you shouldn't be reading this story please, leave.  But since you won't
leave, enjoy...

To the Reader: this is a romantic story between two adults.  If your
looking for a bunch of sex, try my other stories XXX-Men, in celebrities or
Tutoring the Football Jock in High School.  If this is the kind of story
you want then enjoy...

The Knight and The Healer

Tears blurred his vision, but he didn't have the strength to wipe them.
"How long had he been walking?" he wondered, but then dismissed the
thought.  He didn't care, he was too tired to care, too hungry.  He walked
on the path, but he had no destination.  No one would take him in and he
had no friends to turn to.  All he wanted now was to die.  Tears welled up
in him again as he realized that no one would care when they found his dead
body.

He was 19, in his prime, and yet he felt so alone.  He desperately wanted
someone to befriend him, but there was no one.  He was utterly alone.

"Hello, pretty boy," the boys body went stiff.  He turned around and met
two dark brown eyes.  He stepped back confused.  Before him stood a 5'5"
man dressed in a dark green tunic.  It was cut in the local style and was
stretched largely to cover his sizable gut.  He wore leggings but his thick
fatty legs showed through the holes in them, stretching them beyond belief.
He wore a belt, but if it helped to shrink his gut, it didn't work well.  A
small gray sword hung at his hip.  He wore a large gold earring in one ear,
and he leered down at the young man with a grin that showed off his sharp
uneven teeth.

"My, my, we have a cute little boy here, don't we," he remarked loudly,
reaching out to caress the young man's cheek. Lightning fear flooded his
veins as he realized that many more vagabonds were crawling out of the
bushes, most were as greusome in appearance as their leader.  "We'll take
good care of such a sweet little toy," he smiled, and let out a jolly laugh
at the man's obvious detestment for the mere thought of what these
highwaymen were planning.

He didn't have anything to look for in his future, but he knew he didn't
want his life to end as the male whore for such scum.  He turned to run
away, but the highwaymen had already formed a circle around him.  They were
swiftly drawing closer, their leader was the closest.  He reached out and
grabbed the young man's arm, "what's your name tutz?"

The man tried to run away, but the leader had him in a tight grip and he
couldn't escape, "I'm Trelor, now let me go!" he yelled loudly.

The villains only looked at him and roared in laughter.  The leader finally
subsided his deep rumbling laugh, and then looked down at the boy with ice
cold eyes, "We'll let you go, as soon as we're through with you."

He pulled Trelor towards him and gave him a rough kiss, he tried to force
his tongue in Trelor's mouth and the others burst out laughing seeing the
aghast look in Trelor's eyes.  With all his might the young man bit down on
the vagabonds tongue and kneed him in the gut.  The group laughed at seeing
their leader spit blood and grip his stomach in pain.

The grip released from Trelor's arm, he tried to run away, but then a
feeling a forbodeing feeling of dread washed over him.  He cried out as his
tongue was nearly bitten completely off and he was kicked in the gut so
hard he fell on his back, all done by an unseed force.  He cried in pain as
most of the other highwaymen shrieked back, fearing sorcery.  The leader
had now gotten up and was leering at the boy who curled up in a fetal
position on the floor.  "Look boys, we got ourselves a healer."

Realization hit the villains and they began smiling to themselves.  "It's
fun to break healers.  They can't fight back or they wind up like this.
Being dealt twice as much pain as they themselves dealt to others."

Tears welled up as Trelor clutched his stomach in pain and cursed the
Healers Curse, a healer may never hurt, lest he be dealt twice the harm
caused by his hands.  It was a terrible thing that left healers
defenseless. He longed for an escort as all healers were supposed to have,
but that made him remember.  "NO!" his mind cried, "don't remember, it'll
just cause more pain."

So Trelor laid there waiting for the vagabonds to do their work.  The
leader bent down to examine their new toy.  Suddenly all eyes flashed back
upward, as a cry from one of the thieves erupted.  His head was already off
his shoulders by the time the vagabonds found his body.

There in gleaming silver armor stood a knight, his silver sword raised to
the sky, with a great battle cry sounding his arrival.  "Unhand that
healer, you evildoers!" his voice was thick and male, strong with the power
and confidence.

Many of thieves grabbed weapons, while some darted off back the way the
came.  The knight instantly began his dance with death.  He spun his sword
right gutting one of the men, while a tall lanky thief jumped on top of him
, slicing down his left forearm.  The knight swiped in a great arc, nipping
the shoulder of one man, and cutting the lanky thief nearly in half.  He
wore no helmet, showing his handsome features.  His square chin, thin lips,
blonde hair tied in a short high warrior's ponytail, with blue eyes
gleaming like a clear lake at noon.

He charged the man in front of him, impaling the man on his sword. He kept
going in to the heart of the conflict, and when he stopped just over
Trelor, the body went flying off the knight's sword and into the leader's
face.  The leader gave a vicious snarl as the body knocked him on his butt.
He reached in a pouch and threw a small brown bag of powder on knight.  The
knight cried out and began swinging wildly, but was blinded by the strange
powder.

The knight's eyes burned, but he felt his sword tip graze something, with
all his might he hacked at the figure his sword had brushed.  Humiliation
over whelmed him as he heard the deep "thunk" of a sword hitting bark.  He
desperately tried to dislodge his sword from the tree, but the villains
were upon him.  Taking advantage of the incapacitated knight, the began
fighting him.  A dagger slipped neatly in the knights right link, lodging
just between the two metal plates.  Another blade found its' way into his
arm, and a deep gash was cut across his face.  The blades were meant to hit
vital organs, but the valiant knight thrashed his body violently.  Bucking
blows to any thieves who wandered too close and punching those he heard at
his side.  Archers traded their bows for their slingshots and hailed stones
at the knight, their stones lodged in his armor denting it and bending it
to punch its way into the knight's flesh.

The knight's cry of rage and pain, awoke Trelor from his fetal position.
He scratched at his eyes, as powder drifted into them, blinding him with
the knight.  "Well," he thought, "I am a healer." With that he closed his
eyes and chanted a spell, "glorith ach mut nun, sirach siarach fin fan
fum."

He concentrated his mind on the knight and himself, and smiled as the two
glowed in a yellow mist.  The vagabonds shied away from the strange aura,
confused and afraid of it.  The mist removed the knights blindness and he
gave a final tug to pull his sword free of the insufferable tree.  He
barely glanced at the healer, who began to back away from the fight,
pushing himself into a crouching position next to a tree.

Trelor clutched his arms around his knees, feeling the fatigue left by
performing the spell.  Luckily it was a small spell and so the fatigue was
bearable.  He watched in horror, as the knight single handedly fought the
remaining 7 thieves, including the leaders sizable sword.  Three archers
were still hailing stones at him, and though he fought bravely with vigor,
he was outnumbered and losing the battle, slowly but surely.

Trelor, couldn't fight, causing pain to any of these men would hurt him
more than them.  Plus he was weak as it was, he had been trained in magical
not warrior ways, thus he was weak, "no," his mind cried again forbidding
him to think of such matters.  A cry of pain, erupted from the knight,
snapping Trelor back to the scene before him.  Anger and malice replaced
the fear and humiliation in the knight's beautiful eyes, he knew he was
defeated, yet he wasn't willing to give up.

"NO!!!" Trelor cried, he knew the spell to use. His mind fought his
decision to use it, reminding him of its consequences.  He didn't care, he
raced over to the bloody form of the knight.  He shoved his way towards the
knight, grasping for some part of the knights body.  He cried out as a
knife sank into his arm, but for now ignored the pain.  Suddenly, he
gripped something cold and metallic, "Armor!" his mind cried.  He followed
it downwards to the warm gloved hand of the knight, there he pressed his
fingers through the holy mesh of chain link.  A tingle went through his arm
at the skin to skin contact, Trelor had already made the mental spell
preperations, he only needed to finish off the spell with a few words, "un
ana veshlingla say ootna tenterdune, kariblea seearchplay voldu voldune see
ma!"

Light burst from his body, and the bright white light flew into the knight.
It swam through his veins examining every briuse, cut, and ache.  After
measuring all the pains, it flew back out and lashed out at the vagabonds.
For a fraction of a second it blessed them with the Healer's Curse.  The
archers cried out as the stones they had hailed on the knight reversed,
giving them the bruises they had given the knight, but with twice as much
pain. They ran off trying to escape the barrage, but to no avail.  The
dagger cuts on the knight became deep imobilizing gashes on the thieves who
had caused them. Even the shallow cut down the knights face, left a deep
scar on the thief's.

Trelor knew many of them were running away, scared of the clandestine
spell.  Hopefully the temporary energy left in the wake of the spell, would
give the knight enough strength to fight the lingering assailants.  He
didn't care at this point, he sank down to the ground, his whole body
shaking from magical fatigue.  He had cast a powerful spell, he wished
there was a way to appease the violent shaking.  He missed his staff, it
would have comforted him, and steadied him after such a spell, but it was
gone.  His staff brought back the horrible memories.  His mind tried to
stop the remembering, but he was too weak to do more than sink into his
tears and watch the horrid memories.

To the Reader: Okay, this was my first romance story.  I know there isn't
any sex, try part 2 when it comes out.  Most of your questions will be
answered in Part 2, like who is the knight, who is the healer, etc.  If you
have any comments, questions, or concerns, please email me at
dragonknight2222@aol.com. Thanks for your support...