Date: Thu, 8 Jan 2009 23:13:50 -0800
From: Tom Creekmur <tcreekmur@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Way Of The Heron - Part 3

* * *

The Way Of The Heron

By C. T. Creekmur

Prequel Three

Payback

* * *

     Author's warning: This story depicts men performing sexual acts upon
one another that immature people might find shocking. If graphic
depictions of sex between men upsets you, or if you are under 21 years of
age, then DO NOT READ THIS! - go read something else!

     Please understand that this is a work of fantasy and fiction, set in
a time when safe sex was unheard of. It is not intended to provoke or
promote promiscuity or abandonment of common sense where sex is concerned.
Especially in this day and age.

     Though historical personages are mentioned, none of the principal
characters are based on real individuals and any similarity to such is
coincidental. This story is copyrighted (c) by the author and may not be
reproduced in any form without the specific written permission of the
author.

     Historical Note: This story happens in the border areas of northern
California and southern Oregon in the summer of 1854.

     And now, on with the story!

* * *

     "Hey, Donk!" a voice called, echoing down the shadowy mineshaft.

     Shane MacMann paused in his work as soon as those words reached him;
he knew at once who had called to him. He leaned on his shovel beside a
partly full ore car and peered down the tunnel, ill lit by a series of
guttering candles. The semidark hid a frown on his heavily bearded face.
Shane disliked the nickname Rob Knox had bestowed on him, as well as the
short guy jokes and comments his mining partner constantly seemed to make
at his expense.

     'If only Rob wasn't so obnoxious,' Shane sighed mentally.

     What made it worse was that Shane had fallen hard for the big man,
just about as soon as he laid eyes on him. Rob was the closest thing to
Shane's ideal of masculine beauty as Shane had ever come across. It had
been only four months since he and Rob and their two other partners had
met by chance in a saloon. The itinerant prospectors had talked shop over
a bottle of whiskey and by the time it was empty, they had decided to
pool their resources from necessity.

     The great gold rush was all but over by then in California. Even for
the people who had lived through those dramatic times, watching California
go from a sleepy outpost of Mexico, little changed since the days of the
antique Spanish empire, to full fledged US statehood, it was difficult to
describe the unprecedented events to latecomers, even in the soberest
language, without giving the narrative an air of incredibility. Only five
years has passed, but in that time one culture had been swept away and
another firmly planted in its place. And all the easily worked gold
deposits were long gone as well.

     So the four prospectors were quite pleased with their luck when they
stumbled upon a fairly rich vein of silver ore not long after their initial
meeting. The strike was located in the hills that defined the watershed
between Tule Lake and Lower Klamath Lake. Developing the mine had proved
more than enough to keep them together and busy.

     Shane's thoughts strayed pleasantly as he reviewed his mental images
of Rob. He contemplated Rob's muscular build, the arms a blacksmith would
be proud of, the broad chest covered with a fleece of ebon fur that went
on to cover most of the rest of the man, and the heavily hanging genitals.
Shane could see Rob again clearly in his memory, magnificently naked in
the creek that snaked past their camp, as he lathered himself with the
homemade soap they had purchased from a local homesteader. With his black
pelt slicked down and clinging to every masculine curve and muscular ridge
of Rob's exceptional body, it was all Shane could do not to stare, let
alone drool.

     Shane was glad his current partners shared his penchant for regular
bathing. Many of the men he had worked with since coming west seemed to
think water was good only for working placer mines. But the frequent baths
were a mixed blessing. While they provided Shane plenty of material for
his private fantasies once he was alone in his blankets at night, they
also provoked Rob's irritating jokes.

     Shane was a head shorter than the big man, and his spare and wiry
frame was covered with a thick growth of red body fur. His slight build
also tended to make his cock, an overly generous gift of nature, look as
if a mule's prong had been grafted onto him. Shane expected his partners
to stare at it whenever he washed; he was used to getting that reaction
from other guys. But after Rob got an eyeful of Shane naked, he started
calling his partner 'donkey-boy', later shortening it to 'donk'. Shane
had tried to ignore the nickname, but that just seemed to embolden Rob.

     Shane hefted the shovel in his hands once more, putting another
spadeful of the rich silver ore into the cart before he planted the tool
in the loose gravel with more force than was necessary. His arms were the
equal of any man's, he thought ruefully, he did every job Rob did, as well
as he. But Rob could not seem to stop poking fun at him. Shane had stopped
answering Rob back when he was so insulted, and the pair's other partners,
Mike Gray and Tomas DeAmanto, sensing Shane's discomfort better than Rob
seemed to, tried to keep the peace by warning Rob to back off.

     "What's the little runt gonna do to me?" Rob scoffed after one such
warning, not knowing Shane was close enough to overhear.

     Shane heaved another inward sigh as he responded. "Yeah? Whatcha want,
Rob?"

     "Mike just got back from town," came the answer. Rob's big form seemed
to fill the tunnel and he stooped a bit to clear the roof timbers. "He has
news he wants us to hear."

     "Okay."

     Shane followed Rob out into the Northern California sunlight, admiring
the roll of his partner's ass as he walked. He knew he would never get in
there, like he wanted to. He chided himself again for falling for such a
thoughtless boor as Rob. Shane would have been very surprised if he knew
what Rob was thinking just then.

     'Damn! Why did I use that stupid nickname again? Apologize, you fool,
and tell Shane about that dream you had last night!'

     Again, Rob thought about the weird dream. A stranger, an elderly
Indian who introduced himself as Ikukua, had appeared to give Rob some
personal advice, mostly about Shane. Recalling the eerie reality of that
experience, Rob steeled himself to act on it and started to talk. When he
paused for a response from Shane, nothing followed.

     "Shane? Did you hear me?"

     "Huh?" Shane responded, suddenly realizing Rob had been talking to
him. He had been lost in thought about his seemingly hopeless attraction
to Rob.

     "You okay?" Rob asked.

     "Sure, sure."

     As he replied, Shane paused to pull a gayly colored bandanna from his
rear pocket. He ran it across his face and forehead, wiping away the dust
and sweat. He smoothed back the long, coppery hair that fell to his
shoulders and readjusted his hat.

     "What did you say, Rob?"

     "I was sayin' I'm sorry about callin' you 'Donk'. I know it bothers
you. It just sorta popped out back there."

     "It... it's not a big deal." Shane managed, wondering at Rob's
sudden stab at being sensitive.

     "And I... ah... was tryin' to tell you about a dream I had, about
you."

     "A dream? About me?"

     As he spoke, Shane's blue-gray eyes scanned the simple camp, just
three tents erected around the firepit where the men cooked their meals.
He spotted Mike and Tomas waiting there. Rob followed his partner's gaze.
He sighed.

     "I'll tell you about it later. Before we turn in, maybe."

     "Why? Was it personal?"

     "Yeah."

     Despite his aroused curiosity, Shane was prevented from asking more
as they reached the firepit. Tomas was seated there crosslegged, whittling
on a thick stick, fashioning a new pickaxe handle. He was the least hairy
of the four, a native Californian of mixed Spanish and Indian blood, but
a scruff of black hair did cover his cheeks and chin. His long hair snaked
down his back in a long queue, native fashion, to rest in a partial coil
on the ground.

     His partner Mike sat next to him. He had removed his hat, exposing
his brilliant blonde hair. It was bound in a queue like Tomas', though it
only reached as far as the man's shoulder blades. His fair, pale golden
beard was full and hung over a foot below his chin. It quivered slightly
as Mike talked quietly to Tomas, as was their wont. They seemed as close
as brothers to Shane and he envied them for it.

     'If only I could have a companion like that,' he mused. 'If only Rob
could be that man. What I wouldn't give... '

     "Well, we're here." Rob announced, cutting Shane's reverie short.
"What's up?"

     "Old man Anson has made a cash offer to buy us out," replied Mike.

     "He did?" Shane started. It was no secret that Anson, the owner of a
dozen mines in the area, was seeking to expand his holdings. It made sense,
now that the rush was over and the easy pickings had been taken. What was
left was a job for the newly organizing mining corporations, not itinerant
prospectors like Shane and his partners.

     "How much is he offerin'?" asked Rob. Mike answered. It was more than
what the mine had yielded to them in the past four months.

     "Damn!" hissed Shane. "Split four ways that's... "

     "Enough for me!" Rob smiled.

     "You lookin' for greener pastures?" asked Mike.

     "Well, you gotta admit, this mine wasn't gonna produce enough to let
us retire. Maybe we could go prospectin' further north, into Oregon maybe.
See what's there. I hope you guys are with me." Rob punctuated his words
by slapping Shane on the back, a display of good-naturedness that took
the others by surprise. He had not been like that since the first days
of their association.

     Mike did not reply to Rob's unexpected suggestion, except to look at
Tomas with raised eyebrows. Shane wondered if they felt as he did, that
this was a chance to dissolve their partnership and say adios to Rob.
Tomas spoke up.

     "Are we agreed to sell, then?"

     The others agreed and Mike was delagated to go back to town to iron
out the details. As soon as Rob was busy elsewhere, Shane sought out
Tomas. Tomas had just finished fitting the new handle to the head of the
pickaxe. He flourished the tool and began speaking as Shane approached.

     "Well, the pickaxe is ready, but it seems we have no claim to use it
on, now."

     "Will you and Mike go prospectin' for a new claim?"

     "Yes. And we'd like to invite you to join us. You're a good partner.
We three will get on well together, I think." As Tomas said that, his
brilliant black eyes moved to meet and hold Shane's. "Much better, without
Rob."

     "So you wanna cut him loose?"

     "Yes. No one can fault his work, but he is not a pleasant companion
to just be with." Tomas sighed. "We, Mike and I, have never approved of
the way he treated you, teased and spoke down to you."

     "I know. And I'd like to keep workin' with you guys."

     Tomas took a breath.

     "There is something else you should know before you agree to stay
with us, Shane. Mike and I are more than just partners in the work we
follow. I love him, and he loves me. If this troubles you... "

     "No," Shane began, smiling as he realized his suspicions had been
correct, that the pair did share his nature, "it doesn't. I'm the same
way, except that I don't have a pardner. I wish I had what you and Mike
have."

     Tomas reached out slowly and took Shane's faintly freckled hand. His
dark fingers slipped around and caressed the crimson hairs that curled
over Shane's digits slowly as he spoke.

     "I thought you might be like us. But Mike was afraid it would make
trouble if I was wrong, so we kept it to ourselves. We have encountered
others who were friendly until they realized Mike and I were lovers. It
is bad enough to be hated for loving one's own sex, but for some bigots
the idea of a white man like Mike passively submitting to the 'lust' of
a dirty redskin like me is unspeakable, a crime against his race!"

     "Tomas! I don't think of you like that! You've been a good, hard
workin' pardner, better than most others I've worked with!"

     "I know that. Mike does too. And we are willing to share what we have
with you, Shane. All you have to do is ask."

     Shane's lips moved but no sound came out. Tomas looked into Shane's
slate blue, pleading eyes. He read the need there and nodded.

     "Come with me now, my brother. There is a private place in the woods
nearby neither you nor Rob knows about, where Mike and I go to make love.
Let me give you what you need."

     "Tomas... it's been a while since I've done this... and some guys,
well, they've said I was too big for them... "

     "It'll be okay," Tomas soothed as he got up and began to lead Shane
into the forest. He grinned over his shoulder at his partner. "We will go
slowly, and use a lot of lube!"

* * *

     Mike returned later that day with papers the partners all had to sign.
Shane signed last and at Mike's request added the date, July 14, 1854. When
that formality was done, Mike and Tomas paused to talk while Rob went back
to the job he'd been doing. Once he was gone, Mike waved Shane over. He did
not expect the big hug he got from Mike.

     "Tomas told me the good news, buddy!" the blonde man enthused. "I'm
glad we'll still be pards. And in more than just the work. I can't wait for
my turn with you in the woods!"

     Shane blushed. After the more than satisfying love he had shared with
Tomas, he was looking forward to being with Mike as well. But he managed to
say what was uppermost in his mind.

     "What about Rob? How do we break it to him that we don't want him as a
pardner anymore?"

     "Leave that to me," grinned Mike in a thoroughly evil manner. His
eyes, colored a deep shade of blue that Shane sometimes found hard to look
into, seemed even more intense just then and Shane wondered.

     "What you are planning is not wise, my brother." Tomas warned.

     "Maybe not, but it is what that bastard deserves, after treatin'
Shane so shabbily."

     "What're you gonna do?"

     "Just leave it to me, Shane." Mike glanced at Tomas. "Will you have
those things ready I asked for?"

     "Yes, though I still do not approve."

     "Thanks, pard. You're the best!" Mike gave Tomas a quick kiss before
getting on his horse and starting back to town.

* * *

     That afternoon, after divvying up the money they had gotten for their
claim, the four prepared to leave. They had agreed to be off the property
by sundown the next day, but were planning to go much sooner; Rob thought
they were leaving in the morning, but Shane and Tomas knew Mike had other
ideas. After they had packed their belongings, the men gathered around the
firepit to share a last, early supper together, with the summer sun still
high in the sky.

     Rob continued to be under the impression that the four were going to
stick together and Shane wondered when Mike would undeceive him. When Shane
went down to the stream to wash his plate and cup, Tomas followed and
warned him in a low voice not to drink from the bottle Mike was going to
pass around, only pretend to. Shane agreed, wondering where this would
lead.

     Shane followed Mike's lead and spread his blankets out near the fire,
as if they planned to sleep out under the stars; Tomas and Rob did
likewise. Stripping to his longjohns, Rob sat on a log and packed his pipe
as the others also got comfortable. Shane could not help but eye the full
crotch of Rob's longjohns hungrily as he laid his own clothes aside and
took his place by the fire. Shane's own cock snaked prominently down one
leg beneath his red flannel longjohns, hard to miss as he also filled his
pipe for a smoke.

     Very soon afterwards, Mike did produce a bottle of whiskey, pulled the
cork and seemed to take a swig. He offered the bottle to Rob, who drank a
generous mouthful, and passed it on to Shane. He chuckled as he did so.

     "Careful, Do... er, Shane," Rob caught himself.

     Shane noted the look on Rob's face. He was obviously sorry he had
almost used that nickname again. Nevertheless, Shane took his pipe out
of his mouth and blew smoke, guessing the gist of the joke Rob intended.
He was not amused by it.

     "Why? I suppose you think a little guy like me can't hold my liquor
as well as you!"

     "I didn't mean... " Rob flustered. Shane had been right about what
Rob had thought and the big man kicked himself for falling into his old
habit of flinging out 'playful' insults. That was just one of the things
Ikukua had warned him about in his recent dream. "This is strong
stuff... " he finished lamely.

     "Well then, why don't you have my share of it?" Shane returned,
handing back the bottle.

     "Uh... thanks," Rob managed. The big man took another pull from the
bottle before handing it to Tomas. As Tomas pretended to drink, Rob put a
hand to his forehead.

     "Damn! That stuff is strong! It has a kick like a mule!"

     "Here," Mike said cheerfully, proffering the bottle. "Have another
kick!"

     "Don't mind if I do."

     The bottle went around twice more before whatever Mike had spiked it
with finally felled Rob. He gaped at his companions a couple of times, as
if he were trying to speak, then fell off his log backward onto the grass.
Mike jumped up at once and went to the big man.

     "Out cold!" he laughed after a quick examination. "The powder that
Chinese trader sold me worked just like he said it would!"

     "What're you gonna do to him?" asked Shane.

     "Well, I had intended to just wrap Rob up in his blankets and leave
him here. By the time he woulda woken up, we'd have been long gone and he'd
have no way of knowin' how to find us." Mike glanced at his lover. "But
Tomas is worried some varmint will wander into camp and eat him after we
go." Mike gave a little snort of laughter. "Bad luck for the varmint, I'd
say. Rob'd probably poison him!"

     "What do we do then?"

     "Administer some payback. You with me Shane?"

     Without waiting for an answer, Mike bent over Rob. He turned the big
man so his head was towards the fire. Then he went to his saddlebags and
pulled out a pair of scissors.

     "Bring me the basin and that razor I bought, Tomas!"

     "What are you doin'?" Shane exclaimed, watching wide-eyed as Mike
started swiftly snipping the hair off Rob's head.

     "I'm gonna shave this bastard bald, then tie him spread-eagle and
shave the rest of him!" Mike laughed again as he took off a handful of
hair. "Won't he be a pitiful sight then? Like a shorn sheep!"

     "More like a shaved bear," Tomas added, putting the basin of water
down and setting the razor and soap beside it. "And a damned angry one,
when he wakes up!"

     "Relax. We'll wait 'til he wakes up, tell him what we think of him,
and be miles away by the time he manages to untie himself. And I at least
plan to make sure this dense dope understands what a S.O.B. he was to
Shane and that we don't want him around no more!"

     "Mike?" Shane began. "Leave Rob his beard, okay?"

     "Okay, Shane." Mike paused to stroke his own long beard. "I guess I'd
miss this most of all if it was me in a fix like this."

     "So would I," added Tomas with a smile.

     After that, Shane and Tomas did not have to do much more than watch
while Mike went back to work on Rob. Shane wondered if Mike had been
trained as a barber, since he moved so quickly and surely with the soap
and razor after clipping Rob's hair down to a rough stubble. Soon the big
man's head shone white and clean in the firelight. Despite the alarming
way his exposed ears stuck out, Shane still thought Rob looked handsome.
Mike put down the razor and spoke.

     "Gimme a hand here."

     Shane and Tomas moved to help Mike as he began to strip the
unconscious man's longjohns off in order to keep shaving. Tomas produced
some odd wooden implements he had whittled at Mike's request, long, thick
sticks with forks at each end. As each hand and foot were shaved, they were
bound into one end of these sticks with ribbonlike lengths of soft, but
tough leather until Rob's arms were stretched straight out with the stick
behind his neck. His legs were forced as wide apart as they could go by
the stick that separated his ankles.

     Once Rob was firmly bound in this way, Mike attached a rope to the
upper stick and rigged it so it could hang from a nearby tree limb. Rob's
toes just touched the ground when Mike was done. Then he soaped the dense
thatch of black chest hair and shaved it off, along with that growing on
the arms and under them. Without the hair, all could see the thick slabs
of pectoral muscles poised above the well defined six pack of abdominals,
still impressive though relaxed in unconsciousness. Shane could not help
but rub his hardening cock through his longjohns; he was liking this more
and more. As Mike moved around to get the thick fuzz on Rob's back, he
muttered distractedly.

     "Damn! This might take hours! He's like a monkey!"

     Despite Mike's prediction, the job went quicker than that. After
finishing Rob's back, Mike did the lower half of the man, working up the
legs and carefully shaving the tender buttcrack. He washed it slowly,
obviously enjoying himself as he ran his fingers through the smooth,
hairless vee. He grinned at his companions.

     "I'm sorely tempted to bugger him. But if it's gonna be gone, Shane
ought to be the one to do it."

     "Me?" Shane managed as his cock jumped in his longjohns.

     "Don't you wanna pay Rob back for all the abuse he's given you?"

     Mike's suggestion sparked riotous thoughts in Shane's brain. Lust and
the urge for vengeance battled against his better judgement. Shane had
never taken another man against his will before, and knew for certain he
would not want it done to him. But Rob, the object of his long-frustrated
desires, was right there in front of him, naked and helpless, a temptation
beyond Shane's powers of resistance...

     All that flashed through Shane's mind in an instant before Rob shifted
in his bonds and groaned plaintively. The evil grin Shane remembered
returned to Mike's face. He pulled a bandanna from among Rob's clothes,
rolled it up and shoved it into the bound man's mouth. Then he took another
and tied it so Rob could not spit out the first one. Then, just as quickly,
Mike rigged a second rope to hoist the bottom stick up so Rob's ass was at
fuck level.

     "You awake?" Mike asked as Rob's brown eyes opened and focused on him.
They rolled as they took in their surroundings.

     "Hhhaaaatt! Mmmuuphhheruukker!" Rob managed through the gag before he
started to struggle against his bonds. It was apparent to everyone that he
was helpless.

     "Don't jerk around like that!" Mike warned, showing Rob the razor he
held with one hand as he grasped the big man's well-soaped genitals with
the other. "I've still got to shave your cock and balls!"

     Shane could have sworn he saw beads of sweat form instantly on Rob's
forehead as the big man looked wide-eyed down his nearly hairless body at
the razor poised above his nuts. He shook his head emphatically and
whimpered through the gag. Mike grinned.

     "Don't worry, I'm good at this. Soon your beard will be the only hair
you have left on you!"

     Rob's whole body tensed as he felt the keen razor go to work. It moved
determinedly over his most sensitive flesh, denuding his scrotum, his pubes
and finally the shaft of his cock. To the surprise of the watching men,
Rob's sex grew to its full length and began drooling precum as Mike worked.
The clear cockhoney dripped, pooled in the big man's navel and eventually
ran across his smooth shaven belly. As Shane watched the fluid run and drip
to the ground, it was all he could do to control the urge to go and lick it
off Rob's magnificent body.

     When Mike was done, he soaped up the area one last time and washed it
clean, leaving Rob's sex absolutely hairless and painfully erect. Then,
slowly and teasingly, Mike allowed one finger to run along Rob's boner, as
long and hard as a railroad spike, to see how the big man would react.
Again Rob surprised his partners.

     "Eessss Mmmuukk! Eessss!" the bound man managed, trying as best he
could to rub his hard cock against Mike's hand.

     "Oh, you want it, big guy?" Mike purred. He went into the supplies and
scooped some lard out of a tin can before gripping the hard shaft and
giving it a stroke. His hand slid easily and both it and Rob's cock
glistened suddenly in the sunlight.

     "Eessss!" Rob nodded. "Eessss!"

     "Okay, but this'll be on my terms, big guy," he warned.

      At the same time, Mike let his other greasy hand slip into the crack
of Rob's ass. He slathered the hairless vale and the hot pucker at its
center with pungent slickness as he began to jerk the bound man off. Little
by little, Mike's fingers found their way inside Rob, who seemed too intent
on letting Mike get him off to notice the invading digits, stretching and
throughly lubing his innards. Before he let Rob cum though, Mike turned to
grin at Shane.

     "I think Rob's almost ready for you, Shane. You wanna fuck him?"

     Shane did not answer. Glassy-eyed, he allowed his desire to pull him
closer. His hard cock was clearly outlined in his longjohns, tenting the
faded material. Rob's member was impressive, but Shane had him beat by
several inches. Shane was far thicker, too. Rob had never seen Shane hard.
He took one look at the lump Shane's ready weapon had produced and fear
shone in his eyes.

     "Nnnnnuuuummmpph!" Rob suddenly cried, shaking his head and bucking in
his restraints. He only managed to swing a little from side to side.

     "Ah, take it like a man!" Mike ordered as he yielded his place to
Shane. "After all, 'What's the little runt gonna do to you'?"

     Rob whimpered incoherently through his gag, shamed by having his own
thoughtless words thrown back into his teeth. He looked really scared as
Shane reached into the open front of his longjohns, exposing his own
generous growth of red body fur, pulled his oversized cock out and laid
its hot length on Rob's belly, alongside the captive's dick. Shane
squeezed both of the rigid shafts together and started to stroke, lubing
his schlong as he did so in preparation for what was to come.

     "Yeah, Rob, you oughta be scared, after all the shit you've given me."

     "Aaaannnnne, eeeeaas," Rob tried to respond. Shane cut him off.

     "Now you're sorry for ridin' me, huh? Well, now it's my turn to ride
you." Shane pulled back and planted his horsecock at Rob's backdoor. "I've
been wantin' to do this a long time... "

     "Aaaannnnne! Ooooouuuph!" Rob yelled through the gag as Shane popped
his slick cockhead past the spasming sphincter.

     Rob had expected to get raped in one fast, hurtful thrust. But despite
his ominous words, Shane had no desire to hurt Rob and went in real slow.
Once Rob realized Shane did not intend to ravage him, he relaxed, and Shane
eased himself in, enjoying every moment as his long member inched its way
inside the big man to the hilt.

     Mike had greased Rob's innards well, so no harm was done, save to
Rob's pride. Hung up like a side of beef and trussed so he could hardly
move, all Rob could do was relax and take the deep, pounding thrusts Shane
began to give him. A glance to the side showed Shane that his partners were
thoroughly enjoying the show.

     Mike was on his knees, swallowing Tomas' dark shaft, and obviously
enjoying it. As he did so, he jacked himself, at least until Tomas
murmured something to his lover. Then the pair lay down so Tomas could
return the favor. As they began sucking each other, Shane turned his
attention back to Rob.

     Shane found himself glad that Rob did not look like he absolutely
hated what was happening to him. It spurred him on until the rolling fire
low in his thrusting loins threatened to detonate. He gripped the bound
man's shoulders and leaned close to one ear as he hunched determinedly,
feeling himself nearing the edge of ultimate sweetness.

     "You sure are a good-lookin' man, Rob, even shaved bare. I wish you'd
liked me a little more, enough not to be so insultin'... Oh well, I'll miss
you anyway, even if the others won't... "

     With that, Shane gasped and unloaded his nuts deep inside Rob. The
captive moaned loudly through his gag and when Shane could focus his eyes
again, he was surprised to see Rob had shot off too, his bare chest and
belly covered with spatters of mancream that glistened in the afternoon
sunlight. Tears also shone in Rob's eyes as he looked at Shane. Shane had
not expected a reaction like that and might have ungagged Rob to question
him. But as he pulled out, Mike came over and Shane noted that the man was
fully dressed.

     Having brought one another off, Mike and Tomas had readied themselves
to go. Shane could see Tomas holding their horses. Shaking off the feeling
that he was doing the wrong thing, Shane got dressed as Mike gave Rob the
speech he had rehearsed. He told Rob their partnership was over and why,
sparing no details of what his partners thought of him for his treatment
of Shane as Mike unrigged the ropes and lowered Rob to the ground. Then he
knelt to loosen the bonds that held Rob's left hand.

     "There! With a little work you'll be free in no time. But we'll be
long gone by then. And I'm warnin' you, don't follow us!"

     As the others mounted their horses, Shane paused to look at Rob once
more. He was working his left hand against the loose restraint, and it was
giving. Shane fought the urge to say goodbye, chiding himself for still
being sweet on Rob and turned his horse to follow Tomas and Mike. He half
listened to their conversation as they rode, wondering if he would ever
find a partner of his own half as good looking as Rob.

     "So, where are we goin'?" asked Mike after they had left the camp far
behind.

     "North, into Oregon." Tomas answered.

     "You heard of good diggin's up that way?"

     "Yes, but there may be more than silver or gold there. We may find
the heron men."

     "But that's just a native myth!" Mike protested. "I love you, pard,
but do I have to follow you on some wild goose chase? Or in this case,
wild heron chase?"

     "Heron men?" began Shane, distracted away from his reverie. "Who're
they?"

     Tomas began to explain, repeating the stories that circulated quietly
throughout the Pacific northwest, about a mysterious Indian tribe who were
protected by supernatural forces. The native myths about them were vague
and confusing about where they might be found. Some stories spoke of an
ancient adobe city perched on a ledge within a mysterious canyon. Other
tales mentioned a lost valley hidden in a remote section of the Cascade
Mountains. But that was not all. Shane's eyes widened as he heard the
rest.

     "They're like us?"

     "All of them," Tomas went on. "All men who love men, who left the
tribes of their birth to join together under the protection of spirits who
favor men like them and us. And there are stories that say some white men
have joined them as well. Let me tell you the tale of a Spaniard, Denys de
Ulloa, who became a great chief of the heron men under the name Blue
Badger."

     Though Mike had heard Tomas' stories before, Shane listened in wonder
to the saga of Blue Badger. This heron chief, who had come from a wealthy
family of Spanish colonists, had a natural aptitude for magic and the
supernatural. It was said he had been a mighty shaman, a master of great
magickal skills. As Blue Badger grew in his understanding of the heron
men's beliefs, his insights led him to uncover new ways of channeling the
matchless energies evoked by the tribe's polyamorous lovemaking.

     It was even rumored that he was on the verge of discovering the
ultimate power of manlove, a force that could accomplish miraculous
things! But, alas, death had taken Blue Badger before he could find the
final piece of the puzzle. All knew the earth itself was influenced by
the energy generated by the heron men's lovemaking, bringing forth the
plants and animals they needed to survive in abundance. This influencing
of the earth's energy/spirit/life force/whatever it was called, was the
key, or so Blue Badger believed. No Elxa shaman since had solved the
mystery he left for them.

     But beyond the magic and the mysteries lay something thrilling to
Shane. The revelation that there might actually be a place where men such
as himself and Tomas and Mike could live openly and freely, as their
man-loving selves, was incredible to him. Shane found himself eager to
follow Tomas' lead and search for the legendary heron men.

     They made a good ride while the summer sun's light slowly faded,
following a trail that led to the northwest. It merged with another,
larger one, and they turned onto it, traveling more nearly north. Not
long afterwards, they passed a crudely lettered sign that welcomed them
to Oregon territory. By then, the shadows lay long on the gravelly road.

     "We will reach Upper Klamath Lake tomorrow," Tomas observed. "But we
ought to find a place to camp tonight."

     "Like over there?" pointed Mike.

     His companions looked and saw a thin riband of smoke rising from
among the trees in the distance. They quickly agreed among themselves to
check it out. Whoever had made the fire would probably welcome them, as
a larger group made for a safer camp.

     They soon discovered a vague track leading off the main trail and
followed it over a ridge and down into a small ravine. They spotted the
fire which was the source of the smoke and rode slowly towards it. Tomas
suspected it was not an Indian camp, for no native would have built such
a conspicuous fire.

     "Hello the camp!" Mike called.

     "Who's there?" was the response. A white man showed himself,
cautiously holding his rifle at the ready.

     "Don't shoot! We're friendly!"

     "Then you're welcome," he responded, watching as the three came
closer. He was a man with dark hair and a beard, both grizzled with gray,
apparently in his late-forties. "My name's Dan Epps." The others introduced
themselves in return. "Make yourselves comfortable. My pardners went out
huntin', but if they ain't back soon, I'm gonna settle for some jerky and
a shot or three of whiskey!"

     "Sounds good to me!" Mike returned merrily.

      The trio moved to unsaddle their horses and hitch them alongside
those of Dan and his fellow travelers. A rawhide rope had been strung up
between two trees and the horses' leads were tied to the rope. Once the
animals were taken care of, the prospectors and Dan moved to relax around
the fire and began conversing like old friends.

     After awhile Shane noticed that Tomas seemed on edge and wondered
why. As far as he could see, Dan was proving to be a friendly sort, freely
sharing what he knew about the trails north to the mines around the Upper
Klamath Lake area. It turned out Dan had been a trapper in Oregon years
before the coming of the wagon trains and knew the country between the
Columbia River and the California border well.

     "There you are!" Dan almost scolded as two others the same age as he
came into camp a little later, a red headed white man and an Indian. The
redhead, who also sported a grizzled beard, tossed a brace of gutted
rabbits at Dan.

     "We caught 'em, so you cook 'em!"

     Dan picked the carcasses up with a disgusted look on his face. It
was obvious he was not impressed by the hunters' prowess.

     "I knew I shoulda gone huntin' instead of you!"

     The redhead responded in French, and whatever he said, it did not
sound very complementary. Dan just grinned at it and started cooking,
setting the small carcasses up on forked sticks angled over the fire.
The native squatted by the fire and spoke softly.

     "And who are our guests?"

     Again, introductions were made all around. The redhead was Yves
Rebours and the native's name was Many Stars. Shane could not understand
why Tomas seemed excited. He glanced at Mike, who appeared not to have
noticed the state his partner was in. When Tomas went to get something
from his saddlebags, Shane followed him.

     "Is something wrong?" he whispered.

     "No!" smiled Tomas. "Did you see what our hosts are wearing around
their necks?"

     "No, I didn't notice."

     "They have pendants, with this sign engraved on them."

     Tomas knelt and began to draw in the dust with his finger. Shane
knelt too. He watched as a sinuous, curling glyph took shape.

     "What is it?" Shane asked as his comrade finished. Tomas pointed at
the mysterious symbol.

     "It is the sign of the heron men."

     "Oh! You mean those guys might be... "

     "Yes, we are. We and our tribe are also known as the Elxa."

     Tomas and Shane started and turned to see Many Stars standing over
them. The native nodded at what Tomas had drawn and smiled.

     "What do you know of us?"

     "Tomas knows stories about you," Shane began, "but before today I had
never heard of you."

     "We would very much like to know more," added Tomas.

     "The stories about Hunts-by-night, are they true?" Shane asked.

     "Oh yes. I knew him well when I was a young man."

     "So he's still around?"

     "No, he left us over twenty years ago, but he promised to return
someday." Many Stars gestured towards the others. "Come back to the fire,
so we can all talk."

     They followed Many Stars back to the others. Mike was more than a
little astounded to learn their hosts were heron men, since he had pretty
much thought Tomas was chasing shadows. For his part, Shane wondered
aloud at their good fortune, chancing into meeting members of such a
supposedly elusive and mythic group so soon after beginning to search
for them. Dan and Yves chuckled softly while Many Stars smiled at Shane
indulgently.

     "We are not here by chance," the heron man murmured. "We were waiting
for you."

     "What?!"

     "Our chief shaman, Ikukua, saw you coming to us in sacred dreams,
given him by our tribal totems, spirits who protect men like us and show
us men who are worthy of being brought into our brotherhood. You are such
men. Ikukua sent us to guide you to him, so he could welcome you into our
tribe." Then the native paused, looking a bit puzzled. "But Ikukua told
us there would be four of you."

     Tomas, Mike and Shane looked at each other with more than a little
dismay.

     "Rob?" Tomas puzzled. "But he never showed any interest in us or other
men."

     "But he never went with women either," Shane pointed out. "And there
was something that happened in camp, something that made me wonder. I
wanted to ungag him and ask him about it, but Mike didn't give me time."

     "Ungag?" Yves asked, wide-eyed.

     "What kinda games do you guys like to play together?" hooted Dan.

     "Tell us what has happened," asked Many Stars.

     The three prospectors took turns telling how they had met and about
Rob's irritating behavior towards Shane. Shane refrained from mentioning
the odd conversation he'd had with Rob that morning, when Rob tried to
tell him about the dream he'd had concerning Shane, because Shane was
distracted by a more than distressing thought. If the heron men had been
waiting for all four of them, then that meant Rob was a man like Shane!
Thoughts of lost opportunities suddenly haunted Shane. As the explanations
progressed, the rabbits roasted to a turn and were distributed. The men
were tossing the last scraps and bones on the fire as Mike finished the
story.

     " ...and we left him there. We rode until just before sunset, when
we spotted the smoke of your fire and followed it here."

     "This is unexpected," Many Stars murmured.

     "I knew Mike's idea was bad," Tomas began, shaking his head. "Rob
must have been hiding his true nature from us with macho bluster and
crude humor. I have known many men who have acted so."

     "We could go back... " Mike began. Shane interrupted him.

     "Even if we could find him, he probably hates our guts now!" Shane
spoke bitterly. He pulled his bandanna out and wiped his eyes. "Damn it
to hell!"

     "Shane? What is wrong, my brother?" Tomas asked, as startled as the
others by Shane's words and actions.

     "I liked Rob," he sniffed, "more than I wanted to admit because he
was always ridin' me. If he'd only been more friendly to me, we might
have... Oh hell!"

     "Shane, Shane!" Tomas exclaimed, embracing his partner. "I did not
know you felt like that! I would not have allowed Mike to do what he
did if I had!"

     "No," added Mike, shaken by Shane's revelation. "I wouldn't have done
anything to Rob, if I'd known you liked him!"

     "I know, but it's too late now." Shane mastered himself with an effort
and got up. "I can't talk about this anymore, fellas. I'm turnin' in."

     "May Mike and I join you later?"

     "Sure." Shane managed a smile. "At least I still have you two."

     "Yes, you do."

     Tomas and Mike both kissed Shane before he left. Shane went to his
pack and pulled out his bedroll. Spreading the blankets out on a grassy
spot within sight of the fire, he laid down and tried to relax. He watched
the others talking earnestly, their voices blending into a distant murmur
that finally soothed him to sleep.

* * *

     "Shane." A dulcet voice spoke out of the ebon void. "Shane MacMann."

     "Huh... Tomas?"

     Shane opened his eyes and saw bright sunshine. Wondering how he could
have slept so long, the man sat up. It was then he realized something was
wrong. His blankets, the horses, the camp, all were gone. He seemed alone
and naked in the woods.

     "Do not be afraid, Shane." The soothing voice sounded again. "You are
safe here with me."

     "Who's talkin' to me?" the prospector asked as he looked around
himself.

     Shane froze as he caught sight of an immense heron, taller than he,
regarding the nude man with eyes that appeared to be balls of lavender
flame, rolling and burning in its head. Despite the huge bird's formidable
aspect, Shane did not feel threatened. But he did shake his head in a vain
attempt to dispel what he was sure was a dream.

     "You are indeed dreaming, Shane, but not in an ordinary way. In this
sacred state, I can speak to you and show you many things. I am the chief
of those spirits who have guided the heron men from their beginning. The
Elxa have named me the Heron Spirit, but that is not important now," the
magnificent bird informed the man. Shane wondered why he could seem to hear
flutes playing when the Heron Spirit spoke. "What is important is that you
do not fall into despair. You will have a another chance at happiness,
Shane, if you want it."

     "What do you mean?" Shane caught himself. "Are you talkin' about Rob?"

     "Listen to your brothers, Many Stars, Dan and Yves. They have much to
teach you." A breeze began to stir the leaves in the trees around Shane,
then gusted, growing quickly into a wind. "Go back to them now, my
brother."

     "But... "

     As Shane tried to form a question, the sudden wind swiftly freshened
into a gale and blew leaves into his face. The sky grew dark and he heard
someone crying out, as if in fear. It sounded distant at first, but rapidly
grew louder.

     Shane shielded his eyes against the flying dust and saw a sharp peaked
mountain, spewing black ash and glowing lava. Then it changed and became a
great black bear with wings of livid crimson flame. The supernatural beast
turned its eyes towards Shane and the man saw they were pools of flaming
magma, dripping molten tears that fell and solidified to form crystals that
glittered like diamonds at its clawed feet. Shane gaped at this new
apparition as the cries of fear, which he realized were not coming from the
fantastic creature, continued.

     "What are you? What's happenin'? Tell me... "

* * *

     Shane started awake, and found himself sandwiched between Tomas and
Mike. Mike was clutching at him in his sleep, whimpering softly. Shane put
his arms around Mike, hugging him gently and tried to comfort him, but his
friend continued to sound distressed, speaking disjoinedly as he dreamed.

     "...please... I'm sorry... so sorry... it was just a joke... I didn't
mean... I didn't know... don't make me watch anymore... it's so awful...
please... please... "

     "Mike," Shane shook the man lightly. "Mike, wake up. You're dreamin'."

     "Oh God, Oh God!" Mike groaned as he opened his eyes.

     "What's wrong?" asked Tomas, roused by his bedmates.

     "I think Mike had a nightmare."

     "Oh no, no!" Shane felt Mike trembling in his arms as the man spoke.
"It was a medicine dream!"

     "A what?" asked Shane.

     "After you turned in, Many Stars had us smoke a sacred pipe. He said
we might dream and learn what the spirits of the Elxa wanted us to do."
Tomas explained before turning to his partner. "What did you see?" He
asked Mike, who was still trembling.

     "It was terrible! A huge bear with burnin' eyes and wings of fire
forced me to watch episodes from Rob's life. It made me sick. As a kid he
had no mother, his father was a drunken bum who beat him and his older
brothers, and they in turn used Rob for sex, forcin' him to service them.
He finally ran away from home and fell in with a bad lot who were goin'
west. Those guys raped Rob the first night and forced themselves on him
all the way to California.

     "When Rob was big enough to defend himself, he got away from those
guys and started livin' on his own, though he didn't like bein' alone,
because he was like us. He wanted friends he could be with as equals. Then
he met us and liked us, you especially, Shane, but Rob had no experience
lettin' guys know what he wanted in a friendly sort of way. His attempts
all came out as bad jokes that we thought were abuse. So I went and... Oh,
God! What did I do? I crushed him, humiliated him, after he'd worked so
hard and did his best to get us to like him!"

     "But you didn't rape him!" Shane breathed in shock. "I must've made
Rob relive every degradation he'd ever suffered, every time he was
helpless under some unfeelin' horny bastard who was just usin' his body
to get off. And what's worse... he liked me, you say?"

     "Yes."

     Shane and Mike looked miserably at each other. Tomas hugged them both,
trying to reassure them with the gesture.

     "The heron men will know what to do. We'll tell them about Mike's
dream in the morning. It sounds as if he saw Zoraxte... "

     "Who?" asked Shane.

     "He is another of the Elxa's totems, the spirit of their sacred
mountain. Many Stars spoke of him after you turned in. He often appears
as a winged bear and always leaves proof of his visits... " Tomas paused
as if a thought had suddenly struck him. He sat up and ran a hand over
the blankets that covered the trio.

     "What are you lookin' for?" Mike asked.

     "The proof... Ah!"

     Tomas held something up, a small object that caught the light from
the heron men's campfire. It glittered like a diamond. Shane and Mike
felt about themselves as well and found more of the crystals, said by
the Elxa to be the tears of Zoraxte, left wherever he appeared. After the
tears had been gathered and set carefully aside, Tomas suggested they try
to get some more sleep.

     "I guess," Mike agreed, sounding as tired as he was upset.

     "I need to find a tree," confessed Shane.

     Leaving Mike and Tomas to cuddle up and relax back into sleep, Shane
moved away, deeper into the woods that surrounded the camp. He decided to
wait until morning before telling the others about his own dream of the
Heron Spirit and Zoraxte. He thought less than optimistically about it as
he stopped before a massive oak and freed his cock from his longjohns. As
he relaxed and the soft hiss sounded of his piss flowing, Shane muttered
distractedly to himself.

     "How could I have a second chance with Rob now?" he sighed into the
surrounding darkness as he shook his cock. "He must think I'm an absolute
bastard, just another damned unfeelin' rapist he was forced to
accommodate."

     "I don't think that, Shane."

     Shane jumped when he heard the whisper in the dark.

     "Rob?" he breathed.

     "Don't be afraid of me, Shane. I'd never hurt you. I just want to
talk. But if you feel like Mike, I'll go and you'll never see me again."

     "No, Rob, don't go," Shane said at once, reaching towards where he
thought Rob was. Another hand found his, gave a warm squeeze, then tugged
gently.

     "Come over here, where we can sit."

     A short walk took them to another clearing. A tiny fire, more coals
than anything else, shed a pale reddish light over the camp Rob had
covertly established near the heron men after defying Mike's warnings.
As Shane's eyes adjusted, he saw Rob was in his longjohns as well. He sat
on his blankets and pulled Shane down next to him. A muscular arm snaked
around Shane's shoulder.

     "Thank you for agreein' to listen to me, Shane. First off, lemme
apologize... "

     "If anyone has to apologize, it's me!" protested Shane. "My God, I
raped you!"

     "You didn't do anything I haven't been fantasizin' about ever since
I met you. Truth be told, you're the handsomest guy I ever laid eyes
on, Shane. I wish I'd told you that the first day we met." Rob paused.
"I hope that doesn't bother you."

     "Lord, no! I felt the same way about you, Rob, and that's the truth
too. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to mess up our
partnership... I was tired of prospectin' alone."

     "I understand," Rob nodded. "I didn't want to be alone anymore myself.
So I didn't say anything in case you guys weren't like me. I can't tell you
how happy I am to find out we like the same things, Shane!"

     "But," Shane wondered, "I thought you looked scared back there in our
old camp, when I was fixin' to... "

     "I'd never seen that tool of yours fully hard, Shane! I've only taken
one like it before, and its owner was... well, he was a 'damned rapist', as
you said. He didn't care whether I liked it or not, took me rough and left
me feelin' sick and afraid he'd ripped me open inside. So, hell yeah I was
scared." Rob paused and looked at Shane in a puzzled manner. "Why did you
say that, Shane? How could you know I'd been abused like that?"

     "It's sort of a long story, Rob, involvin' these guys we ran into,
the heron men... "

     "That's a myth!" exclaimed Rob.

     "You've heard of them too?"

     "Anyone who kicks around this country long enough, especially guys
like us, will hear about them. The 'mysterious tribe' made up only of
Indians who are 'that way'... You've met some of them?"

     "Yes, the other men here."

     "Well I'll be! But wait and tell me about it later. Gettin' back to
what you did to me, I want you to know you weren't anything like that other
guy, Shane. You were so gentle... " Rob's other arm came up and he hugged
Shane to him as he spoke. Shane felt the big man shudder as his voice
caught, betraying his emotions. "I never thought sex could feel so good,
Shane. You went in slow, let me get used to it, then you were movin'
inside me so smooth and powerful, I felt so full and so warm and so glad
it was you doin' it to me, and then, I don't know how, but I came without
touchin' myself. That's never happened to me before, Shane."

     "But you were cryin' when I was done. Why?"

     "Wouldn't you, if you were told the man who'd just made you feel
better than you ever had in your whole life was leavin' and never comin'
back? But what you said to me made me think maybe you didn't absolutely
hate me, like Mike, so I followed your trail, hopin' I could speak to you
again."

     "Mike doesn't hate you. In fact, right now he's torn up inside about
what he did to you, because of a medicine dream he had... "

     "A what?"

     "The heron men believe the spirits they honor talk to them sometimes,
in special dreams."

     Shane repeated what Mike had told him about his dream, or rather,
nightmare. Rob nodded gravely, confirming the scenes Mike had glimpsed
from Rob's own life. Then Shane described the dream he had experienced.
Rob nodded again as he replied.

     "That must have been what happened to me."

     "When?"

     "Do you remember the dream I had about you, the one I tried to tell
you about?"

     "Yeah."

     "The night before, I had a dream that felt more real than any I'd ever
experienced before. I found myself lyin' in our camp, but the camp was gone
and I was naked and alone. I was wonderin' where you and the others were
when another naked guy showed up and started talkin' with me. He was an
Indian and he said his name was Ikukua... "

     "That's the name of the heron men's shaman!" Shane gasped. "The others
told us that earlier!"

     "Huh! Well, Ikukua didn't identify himself to me as a heron man." Rob
shook his head. "Anyway, he knew how I felt about you and told me if I
wanted you for a lover I was goin' about it all wrong. Ikukua suggested I
ought to be honest and just tell you about my feelin's, soon, 'cause there
wasn't much time left. He said something important was about to happen."

     "Old man Anson's offer to buy us out?"

     "Or maybe your runnin' into the heron men. If the stories I've heard
are even half true, I'd want to stay and learn more about them. If Mike
will let me, that is."

     "Believe me, Rob, Mike doesn't hate you. He just didn't like the way
you treated me."

     "The guys I've been around all my life were like that, relatin' by
fightin' and insultin' each other. I thought you'd be the same as them,
laugh and insult me back, but you ignored me, so I tried more insults. It
was the only way I knew. Then I had that... "

     "Medicine dream?" prompted Shane when Rob hesitated.

     "Yeah," Rob nodded, "and Ikukua told me I was doin' all the wrong
things. I wanted to tell you, but I always got so darned tongue tied
whenever I tried to talk to you."

     "Well, I'm listenin' now."

     "Okay, well... I think I'm in love with you, Shane. How do you feel
about me?"

     "I think I feel the same."

     Rob sighed and his arm hugged Shane closer.

     "Would you... stay with me then? See if we can work it out?"

     "Yes, Rob." Shane breathed, hugging the bigger man back.

     "Er, what about Mike and Tomas?"

     "Let's worry about them tomorrow."

     "Okay. You want me to guide you back to your camp?"

     "No." Shane relaxed against Rob and rested his head on the other's
shoulder as his hands slipped inside Rob's longjohns and felt the smooth
shaven, muscular flesh within. "I'd rather sleep with you, if you'll let
me."

     "God, I was so hopin' you'd say that!" Rob breathed in heartfelt
relief as he lowered his lips to Shane's. Rob felt the intensely masculine
sensation of another beard meshing with his own as they shared their first
kiss. The first of many firsts that night...

* * *

     Shane awoke near dawn with Rob spooned into his back. He just lay
there, enjoying the memories of the past night as they slowly came back
to him. Rob had proven to be a thoughtful and considerate lover, despite
all his negative experiences. Miraculously, the cruelties of the past had
not marred him and Rob still had hope that he could find a deep, gentle
and abiding love with another man. And he hoped that man would be Shane.

     Rob stirred and Shane stroked his arm. Both encircled him in a warm
and intimate hug. A soft whisper blew like a tender caress across Shane's
ear.

No more vague dreams,
nor dull, aching desires;
their time is done.
The man I've waited for has come!
My life begins
anew, here,
with the world in my arms...

     "What was that?" Shane returned quietly, wondering. Had Rob sung to
him, as the heron men were said to do when moved by love?

     "I don't know." Rob wondered at himself as he paused to kiss the back
of Shane's neck. "A prayer maybe? To those spirits who are supposed to
follow the heron men around? I guess I still can't quite believe that you
really are here in my arms."

     Shane wanted to reassure Rob at once, but before he knew it the words
came out as Rob's had, in a soft, easy cadence, prompted by an inner,
peaceful feeling, mysterious, powerful and sweet.

Believe it,
pardner,
believe your eyes
and arms.
I'm here,
right here,
where I belong,
here to stay...

     "Pardner... " Rob's voice caught on the word for a moment. "I love
you, pard... "

     "I love you... "

     Shane turned within the circle of his man's arms to face Rob. The
pair's hard cocks bumped up against each other as they kissed. They fell
easily into another bout of sex, growling and gasping out their desire for
one another as passions rose until they broke forth in wave after wave of
white, sticky manhoney.

     Afterwards, they lay exhausted in each other's arms, watching the
heavens above them. The dawn sky was a hollowed out pearl which brightened
by slow degrees into a gorgeous azure, mottled by a few fleecy clouds
rolling overhead. The muted calls of unseen birds going about their morning
business added to the pair's relaxed mood, which was abruptly shattered by
a jarring cry of another kind, reverberating through the woods.

     "Shaaaaaane!"

     Both men jumped in alarm, then laughed at each other. Donning his
longjohns, Shane went back to the heron men's camp, leaving Rob to pack
and prepare to join him. He found the others standing around the campfire
looking worried, until Shane showed himself. When Dan caught sight of the
impressive bulge running down one leg of Shane's longjohns, he visibly
started and an itch very familiar to the man began to make itself known
to him in his backside.

     "Damn!" Dan muttered. "I've gotta get that studhorse into my
blankets!"

     "I hope you'll let me join in too!" Yves managed, laughing at his
lover's distraction, but also intrigued by what he could see of Shane.

     "Where the Sam Hill have you been all night?" demanded Mike.

     "With Rob," Shane answered nonchalantly as he pulled on his pants and
adjusted his suspenders. "What's for breakfast?" he went on in the same
easy vein as he stepped into his boots. "Is that coffee I smell?"

     Mike just gaped at him, like the others. But Tomas put aside his
surprise first and spoke up next.

     "Rob's not angry at us?"

     "No. We talked it out. We're gonna be pardners now, he and I, see how
it pans out. So if you still want me to stick with you and Mike, you'll
have to put up with Rob, too."

     "I can do that," Tomas agreed.

     Before Mike could respond, Rob came out of the forest, leading his
laden horse. Mike slumped a little in defeat. He went up to Rob and spoke,
closing his eyes.

     "Go ahead, Rob, punch me. I deserve it."

     The others watched in mounting alarm as Rob reached out and took his
time posing Mike's jaw in preparation for a devastating blow.

     "You ready?" he growled.

     "Yeah."

     "Good!" Rob laughed as he bearhugged Mike. "Gotcha!"

     "No, I'm serious!" he gasped in Rob's tight embrace. "I deserve to be
punished for what I did to you."

     "Well, I forgive you! Take it like a man!"

     "Hell, Rob, I'd say you ought at least give Mike what you got!" Dan
urged. "Truss him up, shave him bare and let us play with him awhile!"

     "Well, I do still have the restraints... " Rob admitted when he saw
Mike's eyes widen in alarm once he heard Dan's suggestion.

     "Maybe I ought to borrow them," chuckled Yves, looking at his lover,
"to use on you!"

     "Aww! You're always makin' me promises you don't keep!"

     "I take it you're the heron men Shane told me about," Rob said.

     "Yes," Many Stars answered. "And now that we have all four of you, we
can begin our journey to the home of our shaman, Ikukua. After we all have
had something to eat, of course."

     Many Stars gestured towards the fire as he spoke. The others began to
take seats around it as Yves poured more coffee. Dan checked the pan of
biscuits he was cooking.

     "Is Ikukua's home far from here?" Tomas asked.

     "Three days' travel, perhaps four. There is no reason to hurry." Many
Stars responded.

     "And maybe reason to dally someplace along the way for some play."
winked Yves.

     "Yeah. We could stop at that hot spring we found on our way here.
It'd be a good place to try out those restraints!" Dan grinned
meaningfully at Mike over the edge of his coffee cup as he spoke.

     While the others chuckled at Mike's reaction to Dan's playful threat,
Shane leaned closer to Rob.

     "You do wanna go with us, don't you?" he asked quietly.

     Rob reached over and stroked Shane's back lovingly as he answered.

     "Of course, pard. I'd like to learn more about the heron men. But even
if I didn't, I'd still come along. Anywhere you go, I go, from now on."

     They kissed to seal the bargain.

* * *

THE END

* * *

of Payback

the 3rd prequel to the series

'The Way Of The Heron'

by C. T. Creekmur

Copyright (c) 2009 by Charles T. Creekmur

"All Rights Reserved"

submitted to www.nifty.org 1/8/2009