Tolomei-DivinitasDivinitasLaura TolomeieXtasy eBooksCopyright © 2009 by Laura TolomeiErotica/Dark Fantasy. 57579 words long. First published in eXtasy Books, 2009 enNoveltext/xmlErotica/Dark Fantasy

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Divinitas
by Laura Tolomei
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Erotica/Dark Fantasy

eXtasy eBooks
www.extasybooks.com

Copyright ©2009 by Laura Tolomei

First published in eXtasy Books, 2009

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

CONTENTS

Divinitas

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author

* * * *

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Divinitas

Copyright © 2009 Laura Tolomei

ISBN: 978-1-55487-215-2

Cover art by Martine Jardin

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books

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Divinitas

By

Laura Tolomei

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter One

Before time and space, everything was simply the One. Strewn together and compressed into a tiny fiery ball, all the elements already existed. Without boundaries, they possessed neither form nor shape, until Thought emerged. Like a gentle breeze, it blew over all existing matter, causing ripples of Awareness and Consciousness. As the new knowledge spread, elements became aware of their uniqueness and strained for individuality, upsetting the initial Balance. Chaos ensued as pieces attempted to break away, blindly pulling apart the original core. The pressure increased, separatism running like revolutionary fever through the rupturing mass. But Chaos was only destructive, so before damage became too extensive, Awareness gave shape to the Word.

The new powerful force infested Chaos, connecting the sum of all single Thoughts to each other and to the collectiveness. Its unconventional message taught that individuality was not in contrast with the One, as no picture exists without the many colors blending into it. The message slowly seeped in absorbed only at a superficial level at first, then reaching the bare essence. But rebellion refused to be silenced. After a brief stasis, it resumed its run for freedom, fiercely battling against anything opposing the change. And as the Word stood in its way, it turned the same force shaped to unify into a new element of tension, increasing pressure until the final explosion physically shattered the One into the Many.

Free at last, they flew away, thrown into the empty void without boundaries, filling it with Time, Space and Life. Yet, the core essence did not disintegrate, rather transformed into new Light shining tiny traces of Awareness on all creation. Thus the wondrous journey began, each element provided with all the necessary tools to fulfill its special destiny. On equal footing at first, the individual journeys soon changed perceptions and Awareness reached higher levels only through evolution as all matter eventually rejoined the One before starting the process over and over again.

Journey, re-union, break-off marked the endless cycle, which repeated through Time, Space and Life. From creation, each piece struggled through Life until Death returned it to the One before setting it free once more. The consecutive passages increased not only individual Awareness, but that of the One as well, amplifying Its Thought, which in turn shaped the Word to suit the new knowledge. Yet in spite of all, the One lacked essential information to reach full Awareness.

The physical world held the dangerous and unknown challenge of sensuality. Taste, smell, hearing, vision and touch were part of a mysterious reality that only corporeal beings experienced. Attraction or repulsion of the flesh was incomprehensible to the cold rational Logos because it escaped logical definition. And the One could not grow or be complete without the unexplainable experience.

The Word took its own journey through Life.

And the Word said, I became human to teach men that their Spirit is part of the One just as the One is made up of the sum of their Spirits.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Two

He became the ruler when his father stepped down from the throne. First-born, the title rightfully belonged to him and no one dared challenge it, his father least of all. At first, the boy had seemed too young for the heavy responsibility connected with an extensive territory such as Kemet, and it worried his father.

“Times will become harder and the land poorer,” Geb had patiently explained to his young, looking deeply into soft brown eyes. “But, no matter what, our people need a strong Leader because it's always the king's responsibility to look after them and assure prosperity even in the face of hardships.”

“Don't worry, father,” the somber boy reassured. “I promise I'll do my best for the people and for Kemet.”

That's the best anyone can hope for, Geb thought, catching a glimpse of his son's earnest intentions. To be fair, he hardly looked the part. Tall and dark skinned, the boy would have been more at ease in a Temple rather than a Palace.

“He looks so ... out of this world,” Geb complained to Nut. “I'm not sure he's ready to take Leadership,” he continued, worried about Kemet's future.

“You're overreacting,” the boy's mother told him. “Your son's a born leader,” she continued, expressing also the counselor's opinions, which Geb tended to ignore most of the times. “Haven't you seen how people react to him?”

As a matter of fact, Geb had noticed. The boy attracted people like magnets drew metal. They naturally turned to him, barely suppressing desire and longing. Undoubtedly, Us-Yri possessed sensuality beyond definition, though his father could not recognize it. What Geb understood was its unconscious power. Charisma, he preferred to call it, and the boy seems to have more than his share.

This had finally convinced Geb. He was getting too old anyway, so he retired, yielding to his counselor's advice for the first time. Rest will do me good, he reasoned to convince himself more, thinking of the hard years spent building a strong Kemet out of what was a simple agricultural settlement.

The first of his race had been proud hunters, traveling the land to follow the herds. When the weather shifted and animals moved further away, people feared for their future. Settling on the banks of the Great River Hapi and trusting on the abundance of natural resources surrounding it had saved them from certain extinction. A lush jungle-like served as hunting ground, while the banks’ fertile soil provided for agricultural sustenance. The gamble had paid off in the end. The settlement had thrived, even grown over time to reach farther than expected, although it required changes in the social structure.

Geb was in fact Kemet's first official ruler. Feeling the responsibility of carrying his land into a new order, he had worked hard to assure justice and prosperity to all. He had created a military force, built boats and favored trade with neighboring populations. All his work though, now hung on young shoulders, maybe too young to carry the heavy load.

* * * *

Serious minded from the start, Us-Yri had learned to read and write at a very early age, applying his knowledge to practical matters. He had also insisted on studying his land and its needs, quickly getting a clear grasp of the general situation. Now Us-Yri felt more than ready to pick up where his father left off, promising to follow the paths Geb had traced.

Unlike people his age, the new ruler was not superstitious nor did he trust divine intervention to solve human problems. Of course, he believed in the gods, but man had to help himself in order to survive. So, he strengthened the army, gave a firm impulse to urban development and focused on the agricultural issues. These last ones were particularly dear to his people, very much shaken lately by the rapidly changing nature around them.

The lush jungle seemed to be dwindling in certain parts, the lower regions alone for now, as if something wasted its resources and turned the once abundant life into arid desert. Studying the phenomenon, Us-Yri had reached the conclusion that the best way to contrast it was to improve his people's agricultural techniques. Thus he devoted time and effort to increase harvests. Luckily, the Great River, with its floods twice a year if not more, kept the land always fertile and ready to give man the fruits he needed to survive. But the danger remained, so just to be on the safe side, Us-Yri increased prayers as well, in the remote event the gods cared to listen, while searching for more productive solutions.

“Can I disturb our great Leader for a quick welcome back hug?” a voice interrupted his study.

Us-Yri raised his head and his heart skipped a beat. “Sethi!” he exclaimed as his heart jumped to his throat only to plunge miserably down to the pit of his stomach.

A strikingly handsome man lit the dark chamber with his dazzling smile and Us-Yri's stomach tightened even more. Ever since childhood, Set had that effect on him, the power to cause an intense physical reaction that Us-Yri could never quite control. His reaction had nagged the new ruler ever since discovering his own magnetic power over people. With Set though, roles reversed and he felt the weaker party, his feelings overwhelmed by the younger man's blatant beauty. To be honest, it was not just a matter of physical attraction, even if Set had more than his share of good looks. Unlike Us-Yri, his skin took the color of amber, reddish hair hanging on his shoulders, while brilliantly green eyes bespoke of an unquenched fire inside.

Born and raised at the Palace, he had acquired an official status thanks to Geb's policy to treat all children as his sons or daughters, making no difference between his own and his servant's offspring. In fact, he insisted every child call him father, regardless of blood relations, and Set was no exception. One of the youngest members of the Palace, he had been the most unruly of the bunch, eagerly jumping into any danger just for the fun of it. He climbed trees, swam the river, chased animals and people with a passion that Geb for one, had found disturbing. Us-Yri, instead, found him fascinating.

Maybe his mother shares the blame. Or could it be his father? the new ruler wondered, unable to recall who either parent was. He had gone along with Geb's request and acknowledged everyone as a sibling, even if with Set the mere idea seemed absurd. He's so different from father and me, I know there's no blood connection, he reasoned, staring at the lithe body moving forward like a stealthy lion. Felines—cats in particular—were Us-Yri's favorite animals, so maybe that explained his fascination. Or perhaps, it was connected to something else entirely.

For Us-Yri, Eros so far had held no challenge. People fell into his bed, whether he wanted them or not, blinded by the new ruler's sensuality. Since he had no need to entice attention, his yearning to touch Set's vibrant body seemed even more baffling. Before Set had left, Us-Yri had caught himself more than once fantasizing about him, open-eyed dreams that seemed quite innocent at the time. Then his three days’ initiation changed everything.

* * * *

Closing his eyes, the new ruler could still recall the exquisitely pleasurable sensations of those three magical nights. Slaves had washed him, then anointed his body with perfumed oils and dressed him with a precious robe, brilliantly colored. Their duties accomplished, they had left the young man in ardent anticipation of whatever would follow.

When his father's choice, Emui, had walked in the room, Us-Yri could not contain the stomach tightening he usually felt just looking at Set. Excitement rose as he faced the perfumed woman, wearing veils that partially revealed her ample curves. They had stared at each other for a moment, Us-Yri unsure about how to get what his body already craved. The experienced Emui had taken hold of the situation, her body sensually moving to the distant sound of a flute. Hips gently swaying, she circled around him, her arms sometimes brushing his shoulders. The veils floated lightly, showing more flesh as her seductive dance tightened the circles around him.

He had watched mesmerized for a second, the swaying hips capturing his gaze and holding it, while his cock expressed its full appreciation. Without waiting any further, he grabbed Emui, crushing her soft curves to his body. She arched her back and he ripped off the flimsy veils, then pushed her on the bed. His robe coming off magically, his hands fumbled at her slippery slit, determining the exact position before plunging hard inside her. He moved frantically as new pleasure filled his senses like nothing he had ever experienced before. Then it reached a peak and exploded inside, sending wave after delicious wave through his greedy body.

Amazed at his reaction, Us-Yri almost had no time to appreciate it fully as his cock, now half-out the warm nest, demanded more satisfaction. He would have plunged forward once again, but his eyes caught sight of the pointed breasts, defenseless mounds waiting to be conquered. With a hungry growl, his mouth closed around one inviting tip, sucking loudly at the hardened nipple. His tongue licked lavishly, his teeth grazing the tender skin, while his thick cock pressed against her stomach. Moving to dip it inside again, Us-Yri raised his frame, but she stopped him.

“Wait, my Prince,” she said huskily, “let me show you some of my art.” Without waiting for an answer, she slid down the bed as he pushed up to make way, until her mouth inevitably found his hard wet cock. Her hands were already working on the throbbing shaft, sliding the skin up and down, but when she swallowed it, he gasped in pleasure, his head thrown back to savor the exquisite sensations from the warm wet cavity encircling his avid master. Emui's tongue moved skillfully on the long shaft, from the balls up to the bulging head, she marked a fiery trail that Us-Yri found hard to resist. When she swallowed him again, edging the tip down her throat, he choked her with his hot fluid as the pleasure waves coursed hot and intense through his body one more time.

Not at all surprised, Emui did not stop lavishing attentions to his now limp cock. Instead, her mouth, tongue and hands nursed it back to vibrant life, hardening it for the next round. But wanting more of their first game, Us-Yri dragged her up the bed. Emui complied and lay on her back, stroking the soft flesh between her legs, prompting him to do the same. Inexperienced, he fumbled, slipping on the wetness until she took his hand and guided him on a tour of female mysteries, pushing his fingers inside the hot opening, then sliding up to the throbbing clit. He played for a while, but soon became impatient.

So, Emui turned on her knees and hands, pushing her ass at him. Mesmerized by the tight hole offered to him, he did not need further instructions. With a groan of pleasure, he shoved forcefully through the narrow opening, pausing just a second to savor the feeling before plunging frantically in a new dance. Pumping harder, thrusting inside, then out in frenzied rhythm, he did not last very long. With a groan of pleasure, again he flooded her with hot semen.

And it did not stop. As the three blissful days melted into one another, he drowned in scorching pleasure, each time more intense than the one before. Emui proved to be a talented teacher, her passion enflaming his senses until he lost touch with reality, his only wish to learn about the art of loving and satisfaction.

* * * *

To Us-Yri's intense shame, the unsettling yearning for Set and his reactions to it had only increased since he had become more aware of sex. The redhead's elegant body moving around the Palace had been pure torture as Us-Yri's need to possess his feline-like sibling became unbearable. The attraction did not have any justification, especially considering society's conventions.

Women were acceptable mates, while men ... well, Us-Yri had his reservations. Men possessed no racy curves or hidden wetness. The prospect of having sex with one did not particularly excite Us-Yri's imagination. But with Set, who knows? Dreams sometimes allowed the intimate touches he rationally suppressed during wake time. Thankfully, his father's decision to train his youngest puppy in a military camp had partially solved Us-Yri's problem. But now, Set was back.

* * * *

“Sethi,” Us-Yri repeated, using his affectionate nickname. Getting up, he reached him. “How good it is to see you.” He embraced Set, carefully keeping his body in check, then quickly pulled away. “Is it just a temporary visit or—”

“No, Ausir, I'm back for good,” Set's green eyes sparkled in amusement, as if he understood perfectly Us-Yri's embarrassment.

“Well, I'm glad,” the ruler said, a part of him dismayed at the thought of having the tempting body around once more. “So, how was military life?” he asked, leading the young man to the fireplace.

“Mostly strict, sweaty, annoying, boring.” He yawned loudly to stress the point. “Lucky for me, I made quite a few friends, which I suppose is the best achievement possible in that place.” Set settled in front of the fire. “Discipline is terrible, food is even worse, but I enjoyed the training. It did me good, don't you think, Ausir?” He turned, pushing out his chest.

Avoiding a direct stare, Us-Yri allowed himself only a casual glance. “Sure,” he admitted uncomfortably.

Set suppressed a grin, then turned back to the fire. “And how have you been, Ausir?”

“Since father stepped down, I keep quite busy with state affairs, but—”

“Too busy even to go fishing?” Set challenged.

It had been their special pastime as kids. They would walk for miles, carrying rudimentary rods, talking about everything under the scorching sun. Once they reached their favorite spot, they spent hours inside the water, splashing around, swimming, sometimes even fishing. If he closed his eyes, Us-Yri felt the exact sensations of cold water and hot sun fueling the fiery desire already tensing every muscle.

“Of course not, Sethi,” he was quick to respond. “I've been working too hard lately and I'm in sore need of a break. When you're fully settled in, we'll go fishing.”

* * * *

In the large Palace, people often disappeared, swallowed by the many rooms Geb had insisted on building. Oddly though, this was not Set's case. Wherever he turned, Us-Yri had the impression Set was right there, so close that if he extended one arm, he could touch the golden skin. And he had grown only more desirable over time, perhaps because he moved more sensually, his long legs striding confidently on the stone pavements while his green eyes called for a subtly erotic reaction. Us-Yri tried not to look at him, an impossible task in itself. But even when he succeeded, his mind was quick to remind him just how attractive the young man was. Hoping to avoid the unavoidable, the new ruler buried himself even deeper in official duties ... at least until destiny came calling anyways.

“Are you ready for that fishing trip, Ausir?” Set popped his head around the threshold.

Us-Yri's main advisor on state affairs had just left. Now the ruler was wondering whether to check firsthand on some disturbing news, but—"Sure, Sethi, I believe it's the best offer today.”

“Then, let's go. I have a chariot waiting outside.”

The day was hot despite the sun leaving the Bull constellation signaled summer's end. Fall was only a month away, so Us-Yri expected the cool air to banish the stifling heat. Instead, fiery sunrays tingled on his dark skin.

“Yeah, I know it's hot today,” Set agreed, seeing the ruler's expression, “but I'm sure it's only temporary.”

“I hope so, otherwise we won't be able to finish our construction plans,” Us-Yri commented, taking the bridles, while climbing to the chariot's front.

Holding the fishing rods, Set jumped behind him. “All right, let's go,” he said, his body leaning forward and pressing very close.

Trying his best to ignore him, the ruler nudged the horses forward and left the Palace behind. Going to the river, they passed the building site where slaves busily worked at the Great Lion. Construction had begun under Geb to celebrate the summer equinox and invoke the gods’ protection on his family. After years of hard labor, the giant paws stretched out in the huge empty plain, but the body was only half-done.

“Father really believed in this project,” Set observed, watching the workers pushing stones over tilted wooden boards.

“Yes, he believed that felines protected and brought prosperity to our family.”

“He was right, wasn't he, Ausir?”

“He made Kemet grow and prosper like no one before him,” the darker man agreed.

“And his son is doing even better,” Set said softly.

Us-Yri heard him even over the chariot's rumble. “I'm nothing special, Sethi. I just try to follow in his footsteps.”

“You're too modest, Ausir,” Set argued. “I've heard people refer to you as a god. They say your touch makes plants sprout where no living thing dared exist.”

Us-Yri smiled wistfully. “I wish, Sethi. As a matter of fact,” he gestured at the land around them, “nature is changing so rapidly, I'm not sure we can keep up with it. You see over there?” He fingered in the distance. “We run the risk of losing our beautiful jungle to lifeless sand.”

“What are you talking about, Ausir?”

Us-Yri sighed. “That soon, we won't have any fertile land left, only a great big desert choking us on every side.”

Set focused on the landscape. “I don't see any difference from the past,” he admitted at last. “Is that why you want to hold the Spring Feast?”

Us-Yri nodded. “To renew our bond with the gods and ask for fertility.”

“A ritual mating with ... the Queen?” Seth asked tentatively.

I'd rather have you, the thought flashed unbidden in Us-Yri's mind, quickly repressed by his rational side. “Of course, Sethi,” he said instead. “Who else could play as Goddess?”

The younger man did not reply.

“I have to do it,” Us-Yri justified, uncomfortable at Set's silence. “Can't you see how the land suffers?”

Waiting for Set to peer in the distance, the ruler felt his warm body pressing closer. To ignore the unsettling sensation, he kept his attention focused on driving the chariot.

“Actually,” Set observed at last, “it doesn't seem much different from what I remember.”

“Sethi, you're not looking in the right direction,” Us-Yri said impatiently. “Look over there.” He gestured in the far distance again.

“Well, maybe you're right,” the young man admitted after the new examination. “There are a few places that look balding, as if they lost their vegetation. But everything considered,” he concluded, “it looks more like an isolated phenomenon than a real threat. I think you're exaggerating, Ausir.”

Just then, a bump on the road unbalanced both driver and passenger, throwing one against the other. To keep his balance, Set grabbed Us-Yri's waist.

Painfully As the sharp muscles dug in his back, the lithe body adhering perfectly to his frame, Us-Yri's attention wavered to an unwanted erotic tension building in his own body. Painfully aware of the dangers involved in Set's sensual pull, the ruler pretended to ignore the arm around his waist, trying to concentrate on the road ahead. “I hope so,” he mumbled, ending the conversation.

After a few more miles, they reached their destination, a hidden lake that branched out from the river. Green vegetation surrounded its tiny shores, tall trees shading it from the biting sun. Us-Yri climbed down first, but as he was about to turn, the horse moved abruptly, throwing Set back. Without even thinking, Us-Yri grabbed him, only to relive an already familiar experience. Like before, their frames fitted snugly into one another, though their positions reversed as Set's shoulders dug into the ruler's chest. Time seemed to stop and for an endless moment, all Us-Yri felt was hot flesh pressing on every part, including the most intimate ones.

This time, Us-Yri's physical philosophy,” Us-Yri said, wishing reaction was inevitable. Embarrassed, he felt his cock stir into life, so he quickly disengaged from Set's pliant body before it was too late.

Pretending nothing had happened, the younger man ran to the shores with a childish whoop, stretching out on the soft green grass at the water's edge.

Us-Yri shook his head, smiling at Set's excitement. I'm making too much fuss over nothing, he scolded, sitting down beside him.

“Ah, Ausir, I've never forgotten our fishing trips. In fact, sometimes they were the only things that kept my sanity in that hellish place.”

“Was it that bad, Sethi?”

“Sometimes it was terrible and I'm just glad I'm out of active duty now. I can finally enjoy life.” He rolled on a side, looking up at Us-Yri sitting next to him and staring at the lake. “And its pleasures,” he ended huskily.

A shiver ran down Us-Yri's back. “Like women?” he teased, though the words caught in his throat.

“Women?” Set's face did not express a particular interest. “I have a confession to make, Ausir. Ever since my initiation, I haven't had many dealings with the female gender.”

Us-Yri turned to look inside the green eyes. “You don't like them or—”

“To be honest, women are not such a turn-on for me. They fret too much, displaying their bodies, encumbered by annoying and redundant curves.” He turned, put his arms behind his head and stared at the sky. “No, I can't say I like them much.”

“But—”

Set came up. “Oh, I know that customs dictate otherwise and you'll want me to mate Nebet-het, though I can't understand why father did not insist that Heru-Ur take her.”

“Our brother wants to be a priest, Sethi, you know that. He believes his duty will be best fulfilled alone, so his spirit will win the battle against carnal desires.”

“What a fool!” Set shook his head. “If you take those away, what's left?”

“Well, there's a lot to be said for his philosophy,” Us-Yri objected, wishing he could have Heru-Ur's resolve.

“What have you got to complain about?” Set asked bitterly. “You have Aset at your side.”

Us-Yri closed his eyes, his mid flooded with memories of his beloved Asethi, his mate, his lover. Like Set, she felt like a sister, having grown inside the Palace, though lineage was hesitant at best. As children, he had not felt a particular liking for the scrawny girl, which sometimes he allowed to be his playmate. Yet, after her sexual initiation, his feelings had changed and he had eventually chosen her as Kemet's Queen.

Perhaps, the name says it all, the ruler mused, his mind flashing images of both Set and Aset. Even more, he could not ignore the uncanny physical resemblance between the two, both golden skinned, with reddish hair on a triangular face like that of a cat. Only their eyes differed, Aset's possessing an intense hazel hue, a combination between green and brown. Oddly though, her body had not attracted his attention like Set's had, but when his duty to her became clear, he gladly accepted it.

* * * *

Like men, women had their own sexual initiation with an experienced man, but not only. Since Aset had caught Geb's attention in view of a possible match with his son, Us-Yri seemed the logical choice for the delicate task. By then, he had acquired knowledge with women, so he gladly accepted the challenge, especially since he would not be the only one involved. Customs dictated that the initiate be provided with an experienced guide to help the journey to true physical pleasure and the Prince was never one to defy any accepted convention.

Slaves had brought Aset to his room, hair loose to her ass, perfumed oil lavishly anointed on her body, a tight fitting robe clinging to her curves. Despite the darkness of the room, her new attire had made Us-Yri realize for the first time she had become a woman ... and a very tempting one at that. Even more disturbing, yet exciting at the same time, he also noticed how similar she looked to Set, which made him more impatient to take what he already considered his. But the woman next to him motioned to be patient.

Nefaris was the chosen guide to help Aset find pleasure in what many women considered an ordeal. Knowing the hardships of the first time, Kemet had devised a ritual by which an experienced woman would teach the initiate how to take her pleasure from men, imparting a knowledge that would help the woman enjoy sex from the start. The guide became an integral part of the game, directing both partners. She ordered the man's movements and actions in an erotic orchestration designed to drive the initiate crazy with desire. Thus Us-Yri waited Nefaris's command.

Aset had stopped, too, and stood trembling in the dark room evidently scared of what would follow. Us-Yri clearly smelt her fear of defying the ritual's precise instructions, which kept her gaze glued to the floor and her body unnaturally still. Beneath the flimsy covering, he also perceived her muscle's aching tenseness from the effort of not moving.

Nefaris reached her and gently stroked her long reddish hair. “Don't be afraid, Aset,” she whispered in the young woman's ear. “Tonight you'll feel a new pleasure, the likes of which you've never known before in your life.” Her hand caressed Aset's back. “I'll teach you about men.” The hand curved on her ass. “How to give and receive pleasure.” She nodded in Us-Yri's direction.

He reached the women. Standing behind Aset, his hands replaced Nefaris's and continued the gentle stroking she had started. He felt her curves, pressing on each delicious slope, before untying every bit of clothing and letting it fall to her feet.

Naked, Aset had trembled even more, her flesh racing with heavy goose bumps that creased the delicate skin. Us-Yri increased the pressure, cupping the small breasts while his thumb and forefinger brushed a nipple, teasing until it hardened. She arched her back, throwing her head against his chest. Us-Yri pulled her closer, fitting her curves to his body, his already rigid cock pressing on her soft, rounded ass. When the pressure increased, Aset shifted uncomfortably, moving imperceptibly forward to detach their bodies.

“He doesn't want to hurt you,” Nefaris assured, clearly interpreting Aset's slight hesitation, “just give you pleasure.”

He continued his slow, sensual travel on the soft skin until Nefaris ordered him to stop. With a firm hold, she grabbed his hand and brought him forward.

Us-Yri now stood in front of the trembling girl.

“Look at him,” Nefaris ordered Aset.

The young woman raised her head.

Nefaris took her hands and put them on the Prince's bare chest. “Here, feel him.” She guided her hand across the broad chest, making her linger on the muscles rippling beneath the skin. Then she pulled them further down, edging dangerously on the erection, barely covered by a tight fitting cloth.

* * * *

Aset's eyes grew huge at the sight, her hands wanting to explore the novelty. But before she could reach it, he tilted her head back and gazed into the deep hazel eyes. The next moment, his mouth closed on hers, his tongue tracing her sweet lips.

Unsure of what to do, Aset opened her mouth to invite him further inside like a flower welcomes the morning's first sunrays. With a groan, he plunged into the wet cavity, drowning in her sweetness, ravishing and bruising the tender lips. His hands pressing on her ass, he pulled her even closer.

But Nefaris separated them again.

* * * *

Us-Yri did not have time to feel disappointed. Nefaris's hand traced his cock's shape from the clothes, sometimes curling the fingers around the bulging head straining at the annoying barrier. The teasing only made him harder and having Aset's gaze fixed on it, enflamed his raging desire. Wondering how long he could stand Nefaris's torture, he moved against her hand, trying to brush the throbbing head, but she moved away.

“Take it out,” she finally instructed. “It's time for our young lady to know what will give her pleasure.”

Glad to comply, Us-Yri quickly discarded the cloth, grinning satisfied at Aset's wide-eyed look.

“Here,” Nefaris took her hands and placed them on the throbbing shaft demanding attention. With a slow movement, she showed Aset how to slide the silky flesh up and down, running from the base to the head, closing it in both palms before retracing the initial steps.

The inexperienced touch felt blissful, the tiny hands having trouble holding the large thickness. The cock throbbed harder as she circled it, drowning Us-Yri with intense waves. With an effort, he resisted the urge to plunge immediately into any available hole.

As if understanding his need, Nefaris immediately provided for a change. “Now taste him,” she ordered Aset, pushing down on her shoulders.

Obedient, the young woman bent her knees until her nose rested on the tip of his erection.

“Use your tongue to feel his hardness,” Nefaris instructed.

As if hypnotized by the voice and the slow progression of events, Aset obeyed again, her tongue darting unsure on the long length.

“Lick him,” Nefaris urged, “as if you were cleaning him. You have to purify him for your body.”

Us-Yri had trouble holding his scorching desire in check as Aset's tongue, grown more confident, slid form the top to the bottom, circling the thickness in order to wet him adequately. In a wide sweep, she covered every side or almost. Grabbing her head, he guided her tongue down to his balls, an area she still had not covered. When she did, he felt the urge to come right then in her sweet mouth as the tip of her tongue licked furiously one of his most sensitive spots. But he had to resist, so he pulled her away, leading her back to the bulging head throbbing for more particular attentions.

“Now open wide, dear,” Nefaris continued when she saw the direction of Aset's mouth, “and swallow him.” She pushed her head down on it. “And pay attention that your teeth don't hurt him.”

The sudden warmth made his cock become hard as stone. The wet mouth, which could not even hold the head inside, felt more delicious than the many experienced sucks he had learned to appreciate in time. Aset's attempts seemed more precious, perhaps because they were her first. He moved his hips forward to urge her to take more inside. Obviously struggling, she obeyed, opening wider, her tongue tentatively curling around the bulging head, maybe more an attempt to throw him out than to give him pleasure. Either way, Us-Yri's reaction was unmistakable.

Through it all, Nefaris's voice filled their ears with her enchanting scenarios. “As you lick him, dear, don't forget this magnificent cock will require more from you than just your mouth. Your body must be ready to surrender to its demands, whatever they are, as soon as he makes them.” She circled around Aset's back. “You must be ready to receive him. You have to feel the burning desire to be possessed everywhere by your only master.”

Stopping behind her, Nefaris pushed Aset's head on the demanding cock, almost choking her, impressing a steady movement, the young woman soon followed on her own. Us-Yri groaned with pleasure, increasing the rhythm, reaching a dangerous level.

But the ritual could not get out of hand in such a short time, so Nefaris regained control of the situation. With a nod, she gave the Prince permission to take Aset to the bed.

“I don't think I can resist much longer,” he breathed hoarsely, looking at Nefaris for help.

Nefaris nodded, shifting her gaze to Aset and moving closer to him.

“The initiate's still not ready,” she began slowly, “but we could show her how to ready.”

Us-Yri could not wait any longer. They had warned him that tension would run high during a woman's initiation, but he had not expected it would take all his strength to resist the urge to slam into her. Luckily, the ritual provided for adequate release.

He grabbed Nefaris and, with a single sweep, tore her clothes off. At the sight, Aset turned her head away, but Nefaris brought her back into the game. “Get on the bed,” she instructed. “Now you have to watch and learn.”

Positioning Nefaris on her back, next to Aset, he quickly skimmed the sensitive flesh between her legs. Finding it as wet as he expected, he raised her legs, pushing up her ass, and his cock headed straight for the narrow opening at the end of the cleft. Nefaris relaxed it, allowing him to plunge inside, finally lodging deep within the warm flesh he had wanted from the start. As he pumped harder with each thrust, Nefaris took Aset's hand and brought it between her legs. “Feel me, now.”

His eyes glued to the new sensual action, Us-Yri followed Aset's fingers as they slipped on the sticky flesh, rubbing the sensitive skin from the throbbing swell to the gleaming slit. But what really excited the Prince's already enflamed senses was catching the fascination in the hazel gaze following his cock's movements as he pumped harder under her wide-eyed gaze.

“Now taste me,” Nefaris ordered, her hand pulling down the young woman's neck.

When Aset's tongue tip circled the swell, Us-Yri could not hold back any more. With a loud groan, he flooded Nefaris with a powerful jet just as she enveloped him in her own pleasure waves that stretched his cock to the limit. But the intriguing game was far from over, so Nefaris made Aset kneel on the floor again and guided her mouth to the limp cock, telling her to bring it back to life. This time, her tongue felt less inexperienced as it lapped forcefully at the hardening stem, sliding from the balls to the top in a smooth movement, licking away all traces of Nefaris's sticky fluid.

“I think she wants more,” Us-Yri informed, reading her forceful lapping as an evident desire to have his cock for herself.

“Then take her, Prince,” she agreed, giving him permission to take Aset back in the bed.

“Now you'll feel the real pleasure,” her voice assured as Us-Yri picked the young woman up and laid her on the bed, his body pressing down on hers. The slippery, wet slit was only a thrust away, but he knew it was not time yet. With an effort, he pulled away, admiring her nakedness instead.

“You're, beautiful, Asethi,” he breathed, bending his head to brush his lips on her nipple, which seemed huge compared to her small breasts. “Very beautiful,” he mumbled, before surrounding the firm point with his mouth and sucking avidly.

She arched her back, her hips blindly pushing against his body. He ignored her reaction, tasting the other breast, taking his time to tease the nipple while his fingers pressed on the free one, thumb and forefinger squeezing the pointy tip. She moaned, arching further, so he started a slow descent into oblivion, his tongue tracing a fiery path down her flat belly, then hovering on the brink of the fall.

His hand ran down her closed legs, feeling the skin's smooth texture, while gently forcing them apart. She obeyed, opening wide to let him through, surrendering completely to his desire.

Suppressing a satisfied grin, Us-Yri dipped into the sticky wetness between her legs, fingers and tongue slipping on the soft flesh, tracing the edges of her slit, drinking her fluids thirstily. Her muscles tensed convulsively, pushing against his mouth, trying to rub the sensitive spots on the tip of his tongue. The game continued until, deciding she had waited enough, Us-Yri's tongue retraced its steps back to the unyielding clit he had previously ignored. Just a few well-aimed strokes and he felt her muscles quiver, then relax altogether, leaving her limp.

“Now she's ready,” Us-Yri informed, turning to Nefaris.

“Are you sure, Prince?”

“Hem ... maybe I could check one last spot,” he mused, grinning widely.

Nefaris passed her hand on Aset's throbbing body. “Get on your knees and turn around,” she instructed Aset.

The young woman complied immediately, offering her round ass to the Prince. Us-Yri quickly grabbed the opportunity. His fingers traveled down the tempting cleft between the buttocks, reaching the narrow hole. He circled it delicately, trying to enflame her desire again, but when he dipped inside the anus, he felt her muscles twitch violently.

“She'll need more work before you can take her there, Prince,” Nefaris intervened. “You best concentrate your efforts here,” she continued, sliding her fingers between Aset's legs. When they re-emerged, Us-Yri saw wetness sticking to her skin, glowing under the candlelight. “Yes, Prince, she's ready for you,” Nefaris confirmed.

Wanting one last reassurance, Us-Yri continued Nefaris's trail, returning to the ass and dipping forcefully in her tight hole. This time though, his fingers found no resistance as Aset relaxed her muscles.

“It'll be my pleasure, Nefaris.” Getting behind the young woman, he aimed the marble-like cock, nudging her wet slit. Some women had told him the first time had hurt them, but he hoped it would not be Aset's case. Anyway, there was no way to prevent it. With a groan, he pushed at the slit, immediately feeling the resistance, his entrance hindered by a barrier that he had to break in order to complete Aset's initiation successfully. Nefaris nodded her approval and urged him to plunge ahead. So, ignoring her unmistakable signs of pain, he charged into the wet, slippery opening, tearing soft tissue until he was snugly inside. Paralyzed, Aset did not dare move, but he quickly coaxed a different response, his hands traveling on her breasts, fingers teasing the nipple and trying to fire up desire again. At first, he was not very successful, Aset apparently uninterested in his erotic stimulations, but he was too good to resist. Caught in his sensual web, she soon changed attitude, helped also by the older woman's instructions.

“Give in to the tide,” Nefaris breathed in her ear. “You can take your pleasure, too, instead of blindly giving it to the man of your choice. Here,” she slipped underneath Aset's shaking body, her tongue replacing Us-Yri's fingers on the compact breasts.

At the warm cavity encircling her throbbing nipples, Aset began moving again, slowly at first, then faster as Us-Yri increased the rhythm. Wild with excitement, the Prince dived into the wetness with renewed ardor until he quivered, pleasure cursing in rapid uncontrollable waves that left him suddenly limp and exhausted.

* * * *

Us-Yri still recalled the sweet sensations of that first time, soon followed by many others. His official mating did not prevent him from bedding other women and he used his privilege extensively for many pretty eyes—paired with a firm round ass—that caught his fancy. Yet, Aset remained the one he most enjoyed in many ways, at least until Set's arrival. Now nothing seemed comparable to the raging storm the redhead could trigger only with his mere presence.

Us-Yri shifted uncomfortably. “Nebet-het is just as beautiful as Aset,” he argued, treading on dangerous ground.

“I wouldn't quite go as far,” Set remarked tartly, “but as I said, I hardly care for women, so it really doesn't make a difference.”

Us-Yri sighed and lay back on the grass. “Are you sure, Sethi?” he asked softly.

* * * *

Set stretched luxuriously, making sure Us-Yri watched him, then leaned down on him, his head resting on the ruler's chest. “Almost,” he assured.

* * * *

The closeness felt painful enough without having his green eyes fixed on him. Us-Yri averted his gaze and stared into space. “So, your tastes run more to...” he stopped, unsure of how to say it.

“To our kind,” Set completed, grinning at Us-Yri's evident embarrassment.

The ruler was silent for a while. “Have you had many experiences?” he asked at last, curious despite his better judgment.

“Quite a few, as a matter of fact. The army is a great place to find this kind of ... friends.”

“Any steady lovers?”

“Besides slaves, no. Most bored me in the end, so I didn't pursue lasting relationships.”

Feeling hotter by the minute, Us-Yri shifted uncomfortably before pushing Set off. “It's really hot today,” he announced, getting up. “Come, Sethi, let's get some refreshment.”

* * * *

Annoyed at the interruption, Set remained a moment on the grass, watching Us-Yri's muscled body move inside the water. Then he followed him. Like children, they splashed and played around for the remainder of the morning, thoughts of state duties banished from Us-Yri's mind for once.

* * * *

The fun day though, did nothing to rid him of Set's obsession, the ruler realized during the evening meal. If anything, it has only worsened it, he thought miserably, looking at the young man sitting next to Nebet-het and pretending to be interested in what she said, while stealing glances at Us-Yri. The ruler found it hard to concentrate on his food, much less on anything else. Tension grew imperceptibly until finally, unable to withstand the pressure, he kissed Aset goodnight and left the chamber.

Outside, cool crisp air cleared his mind from the turmoil. He leaned against the Palace walls, partially hidden from view, and looked up at the starry sky. The night was clear, stars sparkling, not dimmed by the moon's bright light. Us-Yri's gaze swept the universe's vastness, wondering, How powerful the gods must be to create such a never-ending marvel.

“Admiring my constellation?” a familiar voice asked, looking upward. “The Scorpion is very bright tonight.”

Startled, Us-Yri straightened his back away from the wall, seeing Set standing under a torch, his skin gleaming in the half-light. Born during the Goat constellation, the ruler liked to keep track of the bright designs ruling the sky at people's birth. A matter of curiosity, no doubt, although according to some theories, the stars’ birth patterns influenced a person's destiny. Dimly, he remembered something about Set's birth occurring during the Scorpion's constellation, though it was a vague memory. “You're right, it looks particularly beautiful tonight,” he agreed, turning back to stare at the constellation. “But not as much as the Goat,” he challenged, indicating a group of stars low on the horizon.

Set moved closer. “The Scorpion can beat any goat any time,” he retorted huskily. “And I believe I just did,” he continued smoothly, “or wouldn't be hiding out here in the dark.”

“What are you talking about?” Us-Yri retorted, upset at the thought the young man could read him so easily. “I'm not hiding,” he lied, “just—”

Set pressed closer. “Then explain why you left so abruptly, Ausir,” he inquired. “You didn't even finish dinner.”

“I wasn't hungry,” Us-Yri lied again, “and I wanted some fresh air.”

“What a smooth liar you are,” Set muttered under his breath.

Not believing his ears, Us-Yri turned to him. “What?”

With a sudden lurch forward, Set pushed the ruler against the wall, his body pressing tightly. “You heard me right, Ausir,” he said softly, his breath tickling the ear. “You're nothing but a liar.”

Cold rage swept over Us-Yri like an icy storm drowning his control. The comment seemed most unfair under the day's excruciating circumstances, which had forced Us-Yri to rely heavily on his restraining power. He shoved against Set's hold, but despite his bigger frame, he failed to break free. “I don't lie,” he spelled in a clear, angry voice. “I never wanted to—”

“That's all you ever wanted,” Set whispered, again, bending on Us-Yri's ear, “to fuck me until there's no more strength left in your body.”

Us-Yri shoved him harder, but Set did not let go. “Do you think I haven't noticed how your eyes follow me around everywhere?” he continued under his breath. “Or felt your desire to touch me?” He raised his voice. “To possess my body completely?” His gaze bore deeply in Us-Yri's brown depths.

The ruler sighed, the proximity unbearable as his sex hardened and pressed against Set's stomach. But refusing to surrender, he tried one last stand. “You're wrong,” he assured, pausing to search for a suitable appellative, “devil,” he concluded, the title coming naturally to his lips. He took a deep breath and felt anger melting away. “I don't feel like that,” he lied, avoiding to stare at Set's tempting mouth so close he felt his warm breath on his face.

“Tell that to your cock ... brother,” the young man mocked maliciously, his hand grabbing the hardening shape under the cloth.

Us-Yri almost gasped from the shock. Enflaming the rest of his already excited senses, Set's hand lingered just enough to make him feel its unbearable heat, but not a second more. As suddenly as he had struck, Set pulled back and left the ruler alone in the dark night, cock hard with unfulfilled desire and mind in utter turmoil.

* * * *

Restless nights followed as Us-Yri tossed and turned in burning lust, going over every detail of the passionate meeting, wishing he had said this rather than that. Mostly, he yearned for Set's touch, his mind imagining erotic scenarios, which intrigued his cock even more. Yet, he feared to meet Set again, afraid he would lose any form of rational control and jump on him. So, he hid in his chamber, biding an endless time as each bleak day he tried to stop thinking about his obsession, losing more sleep and appetite in the process. His counselors worried for his health and urged him to see a doctor, but he steadfastly refused.

“Your Highness,” a trusted friend insisted, “you're unwell. It's plain to see.”

“I'll be fine, Kermac,” Us-Yri assured. “Don't worry. It's just a passing fever, nothing more.”

“Hem...” A cough at the door interrupted them.

Us-Yri turned and his heart stopped.

“I'm sorry to disturb,” Set said softly, his eyes burning with a fever of their own, “but I need to talk to you.” He fixed his gaze on Us-Yri. “And it can't wait any longer,” he finished, his eyes flashing.

“How dare you talk to His Highness like that?” the counselor reprimanded angrily, moving forward to push Set out of the room.

“Let him be,” Us-Yri ordered, partly recovering his heartbeat.

Kermac turned around. “But Your Highness—”

“Please, leave us alone,” the ruler continued with a firm voice, “and have no one disturb me for the rest of the day.”

Though his attitude clearly disagreed with Us-Yri's decision, Kermac had no choice but to obey. With a curt bow, the counselor traced his steps to the door.

Set stood quietly as he left, then turned to Us-Yri. “I have come to apologize.” He cleared his throat. “My behavior the other night was ... despicable to say the least. I—”

“No, devil, you were right all along,” Us-Yri finally admitted more to himself than to Set. “I deceived myself for so long that I really thought it was true. I pretended you meant nothing to me, but all the time I was lying.” He shrugged. “The truth is I have...” he heaved, the words painful to utter, “wanted you since ... oh always I think.”

With a feline jump, Set cornered him next to the fireplace. “Then why haven't you done anything about it?” he asked huskily, his body so close Us-Yri felt his warm breath on his face.

With one last regretful thought, Us-Yri attacked Set's mouth, his instincts finally taking the upper hand over his rational restraining controls. His tongue worked its way inside the warm opening, his impetus throwing Set to the wall. Crushing the lean body, Us-Yri's hand ran down to the hardening he felt pressing against his legs.

Everything moved fast from that moment on as they battled in a silent, fierce war of domination, their tongues brandished like fiery swords that wanted to conquer enemy territory. Us-Yri pushed harder inside, overcoming for a second Set's defense and he enjoyed the sweet victory. Now the conquered territory was his for the taking.

* * * *

Not accepting defeat, Set slid down to his knees, choosing a different battleground. When his mouth found the aroused cock, it avidly took it whole, sucking deeply, wrapping his tongue around its long stem, then sliding to the top and back again. Reaching the balls, he stopped to taste them, taking the soft tissue in his mouth and sucking noisily, before returning to his main interest. Possessed by lust, Set's mouth hypnotically trailed its heated path from the base to the top, stopping only to cover the bulging head, circling it with his adept tongue, before starting the journey again.

* * * *

Us-Yri gasped, pleasure so intense he could not breathe for a moment. Set's relentless tongue lashings turned his cock into stone, an itching mass full of desire that the ruler pushed steadily inside the eager mouth. The game became frantic, increasing its tempo while growing more sophisticated as Set used his specialty, the throat swallow, to drive Us-Yri mad. Greedy sucks pulled the ruler's cock almost completely down his throat, sparking the urge to sink into the bottomless pit. Us-Yri felt the scorching heat burning through his flesh in a vortex that would have kidnapped him into bliss if ... “Stop,” he ordered, grabbing Set's hair and holding his head still. “I want more,” he whispered hoarsely, almost as if he did not dare confess it, not even to himself.

Set showed no surprise. Sliding further to the ground, he turned to face the wall on all fours, his ass pushing up in Us-Yri's direction. The older man did not wait for another invitation. He, too, fell on his knees, Set's firm ass more tempting than he dared admit.

With a finger, Us-Yri probed the tight entrance, feeling the flesh giving in like soft butter. His erected cock, straining for a place to go, nudged Set's buns and he applied little force to push through.

* * * *

Set's flesh closed tightly around the intruder, relishing the feeling of its hardness deep inside, surrendering completely.

* * * *

Us-Yri began moving forcefully, the bulging head sliding against the tight walls in a frantic rhythm that increased its pace after only a few movements.

* * * *

Set followed suit, his ass responding thrust after blissful thrust to the imperious shoves, his hand gripping his own cock tightly in a spasmodic search for a quick release. Neither could withstand the strenuous tensions, which had gripped their muscles and clouded their minds, so both hurried to the finish line. First, the ruler felt Set's muscle's contraction and sudden release, seeing the pleasure waves traveling from ass to head. Then it was his turn as, with a loud gasp, he flooded the younger man with an abundant gush.

But it was only the beginning. As soon as he recovered, Us-Yri grabbed Set and pulled him inside the bedroom, undressing him along the way and admiring his light body glowing by the flames.

“You're beautiful,” Us-Yri breathed, after circling around the elegant combination of muscles, skin and bones. He edged closer. “I don't think I've ever seen anything quite so desirable.” His hand ran lightly along Set's chest, quickly trailing downward. “Or wanted someone so much.” His hand grabbed Set's still limp cock, holding it tightly. Bending his head, he took it all in his mouth.

Fitting snugly in the warm space awakened Set's appetites again and his cock immediately grew bigger. Us-Yri insisted, his tongue teasing the bulging head, lashing out to whip the base as well. Standing in the middle of the room, Set groaned with pleasure. Us-Yri grinned, glad he could make his younger friend feel as helpless as he did. “Come, devil,” he ordered eventually, “let's get more comfortable.”

On the bed, he made Set lie on his back while he pressed on top of him, their mouths savoring each other's marble cocks. Like hungry men, they tasted and sucked until there was not one more drop to squeeze out. Still, they wanted more and worked hard to get it through the long night ahead, sliding inside pliant holes while narrow flesh embraced snugly, following frantic rhythms. They went at it for hours, exploring their limits, testing their resistance until they dropped exhausted and finally satisfied.

* * * *

“So, are you going to go through with the Spring Feast?” Set asked, rolling on a side, his hungry eyes savoring Us-Yri's luxurious stretch.

It was yet another of their passionate late nights or rather a technical pause before one more hot round. Initially, the ruler believed that giving in once to his irrational lust would cure him forever. But facts proved him wrong. That first lustful night had unleashed all Us-Yri's repressed desires, forcing him to abandon any attempt to resist the sweeping sexual attraction, which gave no indication of abating ... quite the contrary. The more he screwed Set, the more he wanted the redhead in his bed. The need to touch him became irresistible, so the ruler simply surrendered to it, knowing it was useless fighting a lost battle. He loved the fire Set sparked with a mere touch or look. Their passionate embraces heated the cold nights and soon became indispensable. Caught in a sexual vortex, Us-Yri did not intend to give them up, especially since Set had satisfied unsuspected cravings.

“So, lover, do you really have to?” Set asked again, his chin resting on Us-Yri's chest.

No, of course not, Us-Yri wanted to reply. I'd rather do what we do best.

* * * *

Set grinned, reading his mind clearly. It had not been difficult to steer Us-Yri to new pleasures, though the ruler had not been willing at first. Set remembered the first time he had managed to trap Us-Yri under his body during one of the many late night twists and turns. Us-Yri had struggled to break free, but Set simply pressed him harder. “No, Ausir, I'm not going to set you free,” he had said, his hands possessively roaming the exposed buttocks. Wetting his fingers, he circled the invitingly tight hole, clearly visible because of the position.

* * * *

Laying flat on his stomach, Set's weight pressing him to the bed, Us-Yri had struggled more at first, but something about the seductive circling had made him change his mind. Round and round the finger went, caressing, rubbing, stroking, never dipping inside, patiently tracing the edges, creating an unexpected desire, which enflamed the dark man to the point that he was soon pushing up his ass, asking for more.

“Not bad for a first timer,” Set grinned, continuing the slow torture. Crossing paths, the nimble fingers burned the sensitive edges, keeping them wet. The hypnotic circling made Us-Yri only more aware of his tender hole along with its growing need to feel something very carnal penetrate inside.

He moaned, not really knowing what to ask for, gripped by tension steadily building on his cock. But Set had hardly started with him. Dipping his head, his tongue replaced the fingers’ slow circling, thoroughly wetting the outer rim. By then, Us-Yri desperately wanted to feel something, anything inside, so he thrust back his buttocks, causing Set's hard tongue tip to break into the dark hole, burning every inch of flesh. Groaning with pleasure, the ruler pushed his ass up, swaying rhythmically to have more of Set inside. The hard tongue worked to enlarge the narrow space, increasing desire to a fever pitch.

But only Set could end the sweet torment, Us-Yri knew it, resisting the urge to beg.

“Don't worry, Ausir. I know exactly what you want.” Set's calm assurance surprised the ruler.

Before he had time to reply, the young man stuck his fingers in Us-Yri's mouth, making him wet them thoroughly.

“You know where they're going, right, Ausir?” Set challenged as he slowly slipped one inside the tight butt hole.

Us-Yri's hungry ass captured it, sucking it deeper, the walls clinging tightly.

“I suspected as much,” Set breathed excitedly, slipping another finger inside.

Again the reaction was the same, so the game changed slightly as Us-Yri not only felt the fingers buried in his flesh, but also their forceful slide, pushing their way deeper before retreating and starting again.

Us-Yri's ass followed the movement, rising at each thrust, pleasure increasing with every burning push.

“It seems you're ready for something much bigger, Ausir,” Set announced triumphantly. Without further ado, he removed his fingers and settled on his knees, nudging his cock as hard as stone against Us-Yri's butt. With a sigh, the ruler realized the young man was more than ready for the challenge, so he braced himself.

The first push inside was the hardest. Even if thoroughly wet on the outside, Us-Yri was unfamiliar with his new position, so he resisted the invasion despite his flaming desire. Set stopped, caressing the opening once more before aiming again. This time, he broke through, but did not push all the way inside. Instead, he stopped. Grateful for the interruption that allowed him to accommodate his new guest, Us-Yri breathed easier.

Initially, pain was much stronger than pleasure as he grappled with new sensations, particularly because his tight flesh had to enlarge rapidly. Distracted by the adjustment, Us-Yri stopped moving altogether, but Set came to his aid. “Get on your knees, Ausir,” he suggested, pulling back a bit. “Allow me to make it better for you.”

Obeying, Us-Yri pushed his ass toward Set, his stomach leaving the bed. The younger man's hands came round and firmly gripped Us-Yri's long cock.

* * * *

Set loved the hard dark shaft, black at the base with its pinkish head, which made it shine. He pictured it as his hands rapidly slid the soft skin up and down, hardening the base and teasing the head.

* * * *

Caught in the movement, Us-Yri forgot about the pain and began swaying his ass again, slow thrusts in Set's direction that made the other cock penetrate further inside. Set moved, too, pushing his way until his entire length rested inside Us-Yri, held snug and tight by the tight flesh.

Unfortunately, the end came quickly, neither able to resist their own seductive game any longer, both asking for immediate release of the built-up tension. Set increased the rhythm, sliding frantically in and out of Us-Yri's ass. At the same time, Us-Yri took his cock from Set's hands, matching the frantic rhythm until a scorching sensation from his ass traveled to every muscle fiber, each nerve ending carrying a fiery spark that eventually reached his cock, then his brain. With a violent explosion, he shattered into a million pieces and drowned the bed with a pool of fluid.

* * * *

Us-Yri sighed at the memory. The episode had only increased desire for Set—and neglect of his mate. “You know I have to do it, devil,” he said at last, caressing his long reddish hair.

As the sun traveled through the constellations, Aset's unhappiness had only increased. Us-Yri read it clearly in her sad eyes, perfectly aware he was keeping his distance. Still harboring a deep love for her, Aset's painful look cut right through his heart, but like a man bewitched, he was unable to tear away from Set's hold. Now the sun's arrival in the Lion called for life's renewal as spring rapidly approached. Briefly, he recalled the importance of this constellation for Kemet being the one hosting the spring equinox and taking his father's fancy to build his giant feline on the empty plain near Hapi. Perhaps, he mused wryly, the Spring Feast with its powerful astrological connections will be a way to get back together. “Besides,” he continued instead, “the gods require—”

Set placed a hand over his mouth. “Oh, don't give me that, Ausir. I know you don't believe in the gods, any more than I do.”

“That's not true,” Us-Yri protested.

“Come on, lover. I've seen your face during the rituals. You're there only because it's your duty and customs require it.”

Us-Yri did not reply. True, he was no great believer in gods or deities, yet he felt there was a spiritual dimension that man should strive to reach. He had often asked himself the purpose of life and if beyond the physical realm, something better awaited his soul. He could not accept the thought that everything would suddenly end or that his precious knowledge would go to waste only because he stopped breathing. Instead, he believed in a divine spirit inhabiting his soul. It guided his steps as it increased his learning and self-awareness. The path was unclear, of course, not even the priests could determine precisely to what end man had to travel through life, having to face an all too speedy death.

Yet, if nothing existed beyond material life, then what's the point? Us-Yri wondered for the millionth time, stretching his legs to feel the fire's warmth. Maybe, the true challenge was to resist temptations in order to focus on spiritual matters. If so, Us-Yri had often thought, a shiver running down his back, I'm certainly failing my mission.

Perhaps, destiny was not as cruel as the ruler imagined it to be. Watching the destructive winter storms, followed by spring's luscious rebirth, he had developed the conviction that nothing really died in nature. Death was part of the process, of course, but it did not mark a definite end. Spring's renewal gave birth to stronger plants, richer in fruits. In Us-Yri's mind, the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth was true in nature, So why shouldn't it apply to our lives as well?

“Even so, devil,” Us-Yri said at last, “I still have a duty to my land and to the people. As their ruler, I have to ask divine blessings for our crops. Fertility is always very important for us, devil, and you should do well not to forget it.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dare,” Set mumbled, his mouth slipping down on Us-Yri's chest, nibbling the soft flesh. “I only wish it didn't have to go through women.” He stopped to flick his tongue on Us-Yri's nipple as it hardened under his attention. “Besides,” he continued as if a thought just occurred to him, “it will be hard to manage the crowd, especially now that the head of your guards is too old for service.”

“I know I have to replace him,” Us-Yri agreed.

“And you have to choose someone you can trust,” Set pointed out, his tongue now trailing on Us-Yri's stomach, “someone who will protect his Leader.”

Chills of pleasure ran through his body as Set reached the spot that was already hard with desire. “Are you applying for the position, devil?” he asked eventually.

Set raised his head and looked intently at Us-Yri as if the thought had never occurred to him. “Well,” he said carefully, “now that you mention it, why not? I believe I'm qualified, after all the years of training father forced me to do.”

Us-Yri did not reply. Instead, his hand grabbed Set's head and pushed it on top of the marble cock whose pinkish head reflected on the dark skin.

Set seemed to understand what the ruler wanted as he immediately dropped the topic. Instead, his mouth closed around the throbbing black gland, taking Us-Yri far away from any thought about state affairs.

* * * *

The priests felt sure the Spring Feast would please the gods who in turn would increase fertility throughout Kemet. “Satisfying the divine beings will ensure abundant crops,” they assured their Leader, “and our people will have food all winter long.”

Us-Yri, instead, hoped the gods would stop the desert from invading his forest's lush vegetation, jeopardizing Kemet's future. It was not just nature's fault, of course. Man had cut down more plants than needed along the riverbanks in order to make room for more farming areas, taking advantage of the river's beneficial influence.

Hapi was a good friend to Kemet's people. Whenever it flooded, sometimes more than twice a year, it replenished the soil, raising its productivity. If this helped grow more crops, on the other hand it endangered the divine balance as people stole more land from nature, depriving wildlife of its own sacred place. Nature will eventually rebel, Us-Yri had thought more than once, and we will be left with nothing.

Attempting to stop the dangerous process, he called for the Spring Feast, three days dedicated to songs, dances, food, drinks and especially sex. After all, fertility was mostly a matter of reproduction, So what better way to invoke it? And in a context where the gods would feel required to grant it, any offspring—human, animal or vegetable—would be most welcome.

The celebrations’ highest point would take place inside the Palace on the night before the sun entered the Lion. Priests had studied a ritual where Us-Yri, as ruler, played a central role. “You are to choose twelve trusted men whom you will consider from now on as your true brothers,” they had told him. “All men are in fact brothers, as you well know, but you will choose twelve to represent them all.”

“Why only twelve?” Us-Yri had asked.

“Twelve is a magical number, your Highness,” the priest replied, “if not only because it's a multiple of three, the perfect number by definition. In addition, our god, the Sun, travels through twelve constellations in its journey across the sky. Every three constellations, the weather changes for four different seasons throughout one solar journey. Again, three times four is twelve.”

“I see,” Us-Yri had nodded in agreement. “And what purpose will they serve?”

“They will represent you to the people, your Highness, and bring your message to everyone. Kemet grows larger with each passing day, so you'll need some human help along with the divine one to show your people the path to knowledge.”

And since the people trusted him to guide them safely, Us-Yri's first choice was Set. As the new head of the guards, he could train others to defend Kemet's territory. So far, they had not feared neighboring populations, most of them too primitive to pose any real threat.

“But the situation could rapidly change,” the redhead warned.

Us-Yri shrugged. In his heart, he knew Set could be right, but did not want to grant his wish for a stronger military force. Not yet anyway.

His second choice was carefully motivated, too, though for quite the opposite reasons as the first one. If Set could guarantee material safety, Heru-Ur, another of Geb's so-called children, could serve as Kemet's spiritual guide. More than the official religious figure, his well-known ascetic ways traced a clear path to the divine essence that Us-Yri felt pervading every human being.

The ruler's other choices were mostly simple workers who lived around the Palace. Us-Yri admired fishermen, farmers, shepherds, anyone who could teach a trade, so he picked the remaining brothers from the lower class. Appalled, the priests tried to change the ruler's choices, but Us-Yri—like his father before him—did not care about birthrights. “They are hard working men who will bring the people my exact message,” he argued, without giving in to the priests’ requests.

* * * *

On the night of the spring equinox the finely decorated Temple next to the Palace hosted the Feast. Entering from a side door, Set noticed the large round table at its center, though partially hidden by thick smoke filling the vast chamber. Torches at the wall and a huge brazier lit the dark surroundings, sending flickering shadows along the stone walls. Us-Yri already sat at one side of the table. All seats filled, the only exception was the empty one at the ruler's left side.

“Ha, there you are, devil,” Us-Yri exclaimed, raising his eyes. “Come take your place.” He gestured at the empty seat.

Set smiled warmly and reached him. “May the gods be with you ... brother,” he said, sitting down, “and with all of you.” He turned to the other men around the table.

“And with you, devil,” Us-Yri agreed softly, his gaze caressing the triangular face.

But there was no time for intimacy. The brethren had spent the day fasting, praying and listening to Us-Yri's explanation of their new role in Kemet's life, while at the same time bonding to one another. Now the Feast would bless their connection in front of gods and men alike.

Priests lit the altar with the sacred fire. Blazing heat enveloped the thirteen men, flames licking up the high walls to reach the torches and the brazier at their side. Then they threw aromatic herbs on the fire and soon a fresh smell spread throughout the chamber. All was ready to receive the sacrifice, so they brought in the white calf, especially chosen for the occasion. The animal trembled at the sight of the fire, but it was too late. Expert hands raised it onto a central altar, away from the heated flames, made it lie on a side, then swiftly cut its throat. The trickles of blood stained its immaculately white mantle before falling inside a gold cup.

When it was half-full, the High Priest took it in front of the fire and raised it to the gods, mumbling an incantation the others could not catch. “Your Highness,” he turned to Us-Yri when satisfied with his blessing, “this is the cup of the New Covenant between the gods, their chosen Leader and the people of Kemet.” He went to Us-Yri, but before handing him the cup, the priest traced a visible mark on the ruler's forehead with a bloody finger. “With this mark, the gods recognize you as Kemet's guiding light. And through this offering, you will give power to your chosen brothers to bring the same saving grace to your land and your people.” He gave the dark man the cup.

Us-Yri drank, then passed it to his left side.

* * * *

The taste of blood filling his nostrils, Set sipped the warm bittersweet liquid and swallowed.

* * * *

The next in line was Heru-Ur and going round the table, everyone tasted the divine blood, which linked them to the gods, the ruler and the land.

But the ritual required further bonding. At the altar, the priests had turned the dead animal on its back and carved its stomach, cutting out a small piece of red flesh. Divided into thirteen tiny pieces, again the High Priest mumbled his ritual incantations over the altar, then offered the first piece to Us-Yri. “This is the gods’ flesh, Your Highness, from which comes all power and fertility. If you eat it, you will become one with them and the land will always be plentiful.”

Us-Yri swallowed the tiny piece.

* * * *

Then it was Set's turn to taste the High Priest's offering, taking the warm sweet, bloody flesh into his mouth.

* * * *

After him, again the sacred flesh went round the table until everyone had eaten their piece.

At the end of the sacred mysteries, the High Priest clapped his hands and servants entered the chamber to take the carcass away. At the same time, drums began beating and a soft flute melody floated into the chamber as other servants brought wine and food to the ruler's table.

This marked the beginning of the profane celebration. Like a gentle breeze, lithe women came dancing to the chamber and filled the space around the table, their soft curves swaying seductively. They came from the Goddess Herself, women who had chosen to devote one year in chastity, resisting physical temptation in order to attain a higher spiritual level. When the year was over, a man had to buy their release in order to set them free again. The deal included monetary offerings to the Goddess together with sexual favors. The women gladly submitted to the stranger's lustful requests because it was their final lesson, if not the most important one.

It was fitting that after spending an entire year focused only on spiritual needs, they had to return to ordinary life with the knowledge that spirit could not exist without flesh in the human realm and one was just as important as the other. The renewed taste of sensual pleasure, gave the women the balance they had lacked between matter and spirit, freeing them from their vow to the Goddess.

Us-Yri had paid for those who were waiting release, bringing them to the Palace's Spring Feast. Now they danced elegantly around the thirteen men to the sound of sweet flowing music and heavy drum beat, stopping every so often for a taste of food or a sip of wine.

* * * *

Set hardly looked at them. He had no interest in fertility or women for that matter, only wished he did not have to witness what was about to happen. But naturally, he had no choice. Us-Yri had wanted this feast as a sign of renewal and it would not be complete without its final act. Resigned to his fate, Set sipped more strong wine, feeling it burn its way down from his throat to his stomach just as the Temple doors opened and servants brought the roasted calf on a silver platter. They settled it on the table, already carved into pieces, then left.

Set admired the elegant arrangement, but he was not hungry. Instead, he kept drinking, glancing at his distracted lover, until the Temple doors swung open once more. This time, it was the Queen's entrance. Wrapped in a dazzling white robe, Aset swayed elegantly forward, her long red hair flowing over her shoulders.

Us-Yri left his seat, going to her. “You're beautiful, Asethi,” he breathed, his gaze openly admiring her.

The Queen turned red with pleasure. “Thank you, my love.”

“No, thank you.” He took her hand and guided her to the table.

With more chairs added for the new guests, Aset sat between Us-Yri and Set. Though he ignored her, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being the ritual's central figure along with his lover, the young man could not help noticing the ruler filling her cup with wine and her plate with bits of roasted meat. Very annoyed by Us-Yri's attitude, he turned away, pretending to observe the wild flutterings of the dancing women. As the evening progressed, the noise increased, wine flowed more copiously, senses burned hotter than the sacred fire, though no one dared do anything.

It was the High Priest's call that made Us-Yri take his mate's hand and lead her in front of the burning flames in order to begin the ritual's final act. With a malicious twinkle, Set saw Us-Yri's evident hard-on, despite the heavy drinking. Actually, most were already drunk by now due to the powerful wine laced with light drugs. Everyone watched Us-Yri kiss Aset, holding her close to him and it signaled the beginning of the Feast's third phase.

Set did not allow anyone to distract him. He wanted to keep looking at his lover's sensual moves, using Aset's body to fulfill his own burning desire, so he dismissed more than one attempt, sending away women pulling at his robe. I certainly don't need them, he thought, feeling hard just watching Aset swallow Us-Yri's black marble cock. His hand slipped down to trace the noticeable erection beneath his own garments.

No one else watched the ruler now, all too busy with having sex on their own. Even ascetic Heru-Ur had given in to the physical call as if acknowledging his duty to fertility, lost in his personal seductive dance. Only Set followed Us-Yri and Aset's erotic dance, mesmerized by the dark body moving in front of him. Us-Yri had a sensuality of his own that had fascinated Set from the start. It had nothing to do with appearance, rather with Eros. He gives off an intense sensual wave that requires a physical response, he reflected, recalling people's reactions. Us-Yri commanded attention easily, a combination of knowledge, but mostly of direct body language. As a result, people sought physical closeness even while holding a philosophical discussion. Maybe, he mused, that's the reason I wanted to conquer him, beating him at his own game.

Set, on the other hand, mostly commanded fear. He knew that people were afraid of him, his subtle beauty too disturbing. Attracted but also repelled, people admired him at a distance, scared of getting too close. Only Us-Yri has dared go beyond mere appearances, Set thought, touching his already hard cock while spying the ruler as he pushed Aset down, his desire all too obvious.

Set glanced at the magnificent black cock ready to conquer its territory. He saw it slip in and out of Aset's wet slit, its seductive dance enflaming Set's senses to paroxysm. He wished he could feel it, too, in his ass, his mouth or his hands, rather than just watch from a distance the forceful pumping dedicated to the gods. At least, the young man hoped they were looking, since no one else seemed to follow the sacred ritual, everyone either too drunk or too fucked up to care.

Knowing Us-Yri's reactions to perfection, Set saw clearly the moment the ruler performed his intended duty. Soon after, he collapsed on Aset's sprawled body. Feeling confident he would not disturb them, the redhead got up and reached the couple, holding a full cup of wine.

“Care for some wine, Ausir?” he asked, dropping to his knees.

Us-Yri did not answer, but raised his hand to take the cup.

“Your performance was quite ... extraordinary,” Set continued, “but I think there's room for improvement.”

Us-Yri grinned. “There's always room for improvement, devil,” he remarked. “What did you have in mind?”

Set glanced at Aset, still sprawled on the floor, appraising her slim body. “Maybe, you could increase the number of performers,” he suggested at last.

* * * *

Us-Yri looked straight into the green eyes’ malicious twinkle. For a moment, he wondered whether he understood correctly what Set suggested, then having reassurances to that effect, he turned to Aset. “What do you say, love? Care to try with bigger numbers?”

* * * *

Aset sighed. Her mate and Set's love affair was no mystery around the Palace, though no one dared criticize it. As usual, men were free to do as they pleased, as long as they complied with family obligations. Naturally, she did not like this latest development, afraid she would lose Us-Yri in the end. And she loved him too much to bear life without him. Ever since the initiation, she had known he was her man, especially in bed. With a shiver of pleasure, she recalled his capable hands running over her body during that magical first night, enflaming her senses and unleashing a raging desire.

Back then, she had been only a trembling child, afraid of whatever he would do to her. But Nefaris had helped her understand about love and men. If she closed her eyes, she still felt his bulging cock pressing against her cheek as her tongue circled it furiously, trying to push it out, without succeeding. She had almost chocked on the hard length, hating it yet feeling strangely excited at the same time. But nothing had given her more pain—or more pleasure in retrospect—than seeing Us-Yri take Nefaris right in front of her eyes. At first, she had felt hurt. It was her initiation, so she believed Us-Yri's cock belonged to her alone. Nefaris could have had him any other time, but to do it then had seemed bad taste. Yet, watching them, Aset had felt wetter than ever, her imagination running wild with sexual scenarios that included more than two people.

Of course, once the initiation had ended, she had no chance to experiment with those fantasies, though she would have liked to pursue them in real life. Set's proposal opened the forbidden door she had kept close in fear of trespassing unwritten rules and regulations. More than that, it could salvage a failing relationship, although she had to overcome a deep-rooted hatred. Aset despised Set, or rather she distrusted him, fearing he would harm the ruler if given the opportunity. But she was also powerless to stop him, unless ... “Yes, darling, I'd love it,” she said at last.

Us-Yri smiled. “Really, love?”

She nodded.

* * * *

“Then I suggest we go somewhere more ... private,” Set cut in, holding out a hand to Us-Yri.

The ruler grabbed it and Set pulled him up, his hand lingering a little more than necessary. Us-Yri turned and helped Aset. The three quickly left the Temple, heading for Us-Yri's chamber. Still drunk from the wine, but mostly from the built-up excitement, Set did not wait for anyone. As soon as they entered the room, he grabbed Us-Yri's cock, his hand expertly raising his interest. Dropping to his knees, he tasted it fully, his tongue licking away Aset's bittersweet traces, his mouth filling with the black cock. He sucked avidly, his tongue wrapping around the bulging head, flickering on the soft skin, enjoying Us-Yri's surprised gasp of pleasure.

* * * *

Aset, close to him, wanted to watch Set's nimble mouth work, but the ruler pulled her closer and attacked her mouth, his tongue forcing a triumphant entry. Aset surrendered, her mouth opening wide to his inspection, feeling his tongue taking possession of the space, filling it completely. She savored his sour taste, deeply inhaling his musky smell, while her arms wrapped around his powerful muscles.

He pulled away from her mouth. “I want you,” he whispered in her ear. With a firm shove, he ripped off her ceremonial robe, leaving her completely naked and prey to the cold air circling in the chamber. Goose bumps ran under the sensitive flesh, trying to fight off the cold sensation without much success. Us-Yri's fingers lightly traced the shivers, before pushing her to the bed.

“Wait, Ausir,” Set got up, “let me arrange her.” He made her lie on her back, head and feet leaning out the edge. “What do you prefer, Ausir?” he asked, a sardonic grin on his face.

Us-Yri grinned in return. “I'll leave you the sweet delights of her mouth,” he answered, opening her legs and kneeling between them. His hand brushed softly the exposed slit, thumb and forefinger rubbing the hard swell that throbbed painfully with longing. Aset danced to Us-Yr's rhythm, pushing against his hand to deepen the touch, while opening her mouth to receive Set's thick cock.

He was big, maybe too much for her small mouth, but she tried to take him completely. Her tongue slid along the entire length, savoring the soft skin, before sucking him further down.

With an excited shiver, she heard his gasp of pleasure and felt avenged of the doubts he surely entertained regarding her abilities. The bastard didn't think I could almost swallow him, she mused, chocking on him just to show him her worth, while resisting the instinct to cough and pull back. It was her firm intention to prove him she was just as good in this art as he could ever be. So, she sucked even harder as he filled every tiny crevice of her small opening, which by now seemed enormous.

To keep him from definitely chocking her, Aset's hands grabbed the cock's base, successfully preventing his thrusts to reach her throat, sliding the soft skin at the same rhythm her mouth followed, increasing the tempo when she felt Us-Yri take her with his own stone shaft.

* * * *

He had not been able to wait a moment further. Seeing Set's hard cock disappear inside her mouth had only increased his desire and she was dripping wet as it was, he noticed, thrusting his fingers inside her sticky slit. When Aset spread her legs wider apart, he quickly replaced his fingers with his hard cock, pushing its long length all the way inside. Then he retreated and began pumping harder.

* * * *

Completely taken by the two men, her mind unable to focus on any one thought, Aset's body surrendered to them, enjoying their possessive game as mouth and pussy opened wider to let them slide more easily. Her flesh wrapped around their tightness, sucking them further inside and providing the contrast to their forceful pulling out before crashing back inside. And she only became wetter, Us-Yri's hard cock drowning in her sticky ocean until Set stopped them.

“Wait, Ausir, I want to use her ass, too. It's so appealing. It'd be a pity to waste it.”

Us-Yri grinned. “I totally agree, devil. It's much more than just ... inviting.”

“You know how much I like it, Ausir,” Set reminded, his gaze caressing the ruler's body.

“Oh yes, I know exactly how much, devil,” Us-Yri breathed huskily.

With a regretful look, the ruler pulled out of the sticky wet opening. Set grabbed her and waited for Us-Yri to lie down on the bed before placing her over his raised cock. He pulled her down slowly, while his free hand ran between her legs, and she felt him quiver from the anticipation. A cold smile lit his face. “She likes it,” he mumbled, pushing his fingers inside. He traveled to her other hole, wetting it with the same sticky fluid. He continued this game until her butt was as wet as her pussy. Then he pushed her down on Us-Yri.

Both gasped when their flesh finally joined. She threw her head back, resting it against Set, but he did not give her time to enjoy the sensation. With a firm shove, he pushed her down on Us-Yri's chest, raising her ass to his convenience.

She struggled at first against him, not wanting to feel him behind, hoping perhaps the ruler would stop him. But Us-Yri was lost in his own sensual pleasure, hardly caring about what Set did. And Aset knew the younger man did not give a damn about her feelings.

Ignoring her squirming efforts, he pushed his hard shaft through the narrow hole, seemingly indifferent if she wanted it or not.

At first, Aset only felt pain. He burned the delicate rim as he tried to enlarge the passageway. Eventually, the head slipped inside and her flesh closed around him, holding so tight it physically hurt.

“Relax, Asethi,” Us-Yri intervened, stroking her tense flesh, massaging her contracted muscles. “He doesn't want to hurt you, love.”

The hell he doesn't, the slimy bastard, she wanted to say, but there seemed no point in becoming outright enemies.

The ruler decreased his tempo and Aset was grateful he gave her time to adjust to the new feeling, his hand slipping underneath her stomach to caress her throbbing clit. “Just relax,” he repeated softly, gently biting her neck.

She looked for his mouth, wanting to forget about everything except the delicious sensation of feeling him trapped inside her., and her tongue pushed inside his mouth. Relaxing the tense muscles, her body swayed sideways again, pushing back and down. She felt the heat rise from the center and travel to her back, then to her breasts as pleasure grew with each thrust.

As they pumped faster, the heat turned into an inferno, a fire racing through the blood and connecting the nerve endings, until everything became a single intense feeling that ripped her apart. Exploding like a flaming star in the night sky, the incredible sensation shot through her veins and touched every inch of her flesh. Her pleasure waves traveled from the center all the way to the tip of her toes, then shot up to her head. She could not scream, her mouth held hostage by Us-Yri, but her contractions crushing their cocks were so intense that neither could resist a second longer and with a loud gasp, they drowned her.

* * * *

To Set's satisfaction, the episode did not remain isolated and he encouraged the meetings, cradling the illusion to control Us-Yri even more in the three-way sex affair. It would have felt even better if Aset had not been the third party ... but he had no choice in the matter. Still, since she harbored no great love for him either, he guessed they were even.

* * * *

Love for Us-Yri made her accept a situation she had little taste for, at least rationally. Her body thought otherwise as night after night it experienced new pleasures, swelling under the uncontrollable waves that cursed through it. Despite the evident enjoyment, Aset still distrusted Set, her skin crawling at the mere thought of his touch, though she would have killed herself rather than breathe a word to Us-Yri.

* * * *

And the ruler seemed the only one truly satisfied with the new development. He loved Aset passionately and had felt guilty in the past for having neglected her. Now his conscience rested easier, knowing he shared his greatest pleasure with her. Perhaps, his only regret was to be still under Set's spell, despite his previous efforts to break it off. Of course, the new situation gave him the perfect excuse to satisfy his obsession, but something did not feel quite right.

On the surface, everything seemed fine. Kemet progressed as stability and fertility gave its people an edge over their neighbors. Wealth grew thanks to Us-Yri's enlightened policies and continuous teachings. His twelve brethren, true to their vow, had traveled the land to bring people new knowledge and increase their food supply. Farming thrived, giving solid basis to the popular legend that the ruler was a sort of god of creation. He could make plants sprout from the driest soil, everyone believed, watching their plentiful crops.

Oddly enough though, fertility escaped him at the most important level, the personal one. If the gods are making Kemet thrive, why aren't they blessing my family as well? Us-Yri wondered once again, staring at the roaring flames trying to keep the chill at bay inside the cold chamber. Yet, Aset still had to give him an official heir. She insisted it was Set's fault. Yet, Aset still had to give him an official heir. She insisted it was Set's fault. Their triangular relationship did not incur in the god's favor. Maybe she's right.

Though culture did not recriminate on unusual relationships, the only true mating could be between a man and a woman. All other sex was simply not productive and as time passed, Us-Yri realized how much he needed to produce a strong heir to continue his work. Yes, but how to break Set's spell? Nothing seemed to work, not even mating his young lover to Nebet-het, as announced since Set's return.

For one, Nebet-het herself was in love with Us-Yri. The looks she sent his way had been unmistakable. Since her earliest years, she had cultivated an intense passion for the ruler, which was now impossible to disguise. To be fair, Us-Yri had never encouraged her in any way, but apparently it made no difference. Set, on the other hand, cared nothing for her, so his pledge was simply an empty vow with no substance. And he always came back to Us-Yri who, unable to fight the attraction, always gave in to his lust.

But now things had to change. Us-Yri felt it clearly, his gaze still fixed on the flames. The gods were asking something more of him, testing his mettle in order to see how far he would go. With a sense of shame, the ruler knew he had failed so far. That's why they're punishing me. So, he hovered on the brink of a fateful threshold and if he dared make the right choice, he might fulfill a much greater purpose than his lust for a powerfully erotic body. But battling the sense was no easy affair, as he already knew. He always started with the best intentions, wanting to tell Set their relationship was over, yet discussions inevitably ended in bed. More than that, often his young lover anticipated his moves.

“I have a problem, Ausir,” Set had announced, entering the ruler's bedroom on a wet night, looking more handsome than ever.

Seeing the slim figure with its elegant moves, Us-Yri's heart melted all the way down to his feet. “What is it, devil?” he had asked, averting his eyes while struggling to keep his desire in check.

“It's Nebet-het. She says she has made love to you yesterday and now she doesn't want anyone else in her bed.”

“What?” Us-Yri had jumped up. “I didn't even see her yesterday.”

Set came closer, enough so that Us-Yri could feel his body heat. “She dabbles in the magic arts, remember?” His look fixed on Us-Yri's black eyes.

The ruler slowly nodded.

“So, she simply took Aset's form and shared your bed,” Set finished, shrugging his shoulders as if he did not care one bit what his mate did with her body.

“I—” Us-Yri had wanted to contradict Set, but he closed his mouth. As a matter of fact, he had seen Aset, or someone who looked exactly like her, and made love until he had collapsed exhausted. Thinking back on the experience, maybe the woman had felt different from Aset, but not so he had stopped to think about it. “I was with Aset,” he confirmed at last after a long pause, “or at least I thought it was Aset.” He looked at Set, his gaze searching his face. “If it was Nebet-het, I'm sorry—”

Set had raised a hand. “Spare me, Ausir. I really don't care about women, especially that one. There's only one whom I set above anything else,” his eyes flashed at him, “and I believe you know exactly who that is.”

It could have been the perfect timing for Us-Yri to stop any further entanglement, but the devil's spell had been irresistible. He had only wanted to reassure Set on his feelings, but as soon as he reached out his hand, he knew it was a mistake. Grabbing it, Set had buried his face in it, his lips pressing on the open palm. Trapped, Us-Yri did not pull away his hand, leaving him space to reach the wrist, then travel up the arm until their lips met. It was Us-Yri's undoing.

Fire blazed as their tongues attacked one another, supremacy always an issue they loved to tackle. The battle raged and blood raced through their veins, tensing their bursting muscles. Set's hands fondled the erection digging into his stomach, his fingers squeezing it forcefully through the clothes.

“I want you,” he whispered in Us-Yri's ear, “now.”

Their lovemaking had become more frantic as time progressed. They did not need too many preliminaries as they both heated up in the matter of seconds, the attraction too strong to resist. Us-Yri pushed Set down on the floor. “You want me, devil?” he asked, his hand discarding unwanted clothes. “Well, here I am.”

Getting on his knees, the dark man nudged his cock between Set's buttocks, then pushed forcefully. The tight flesh immediately gave way, wrapping snugly around his hard length. The squeeze only increased his pleasure as he pumped faster. The narrow space enlarged a bit to accommodate him deeper with each thrust, but Us-Yri loved the sensation he filled the entire place, leaving not an inch free.

Set's ass went along beautifully with this dance, returning every single thrust, shivering with longing whenever Us-Yri pulled away and sucking him deeper when he returned. The intense sensations only stepped up their rhythm, which became frantic until neither could stand the tension anymore. In the throes of sweeping pleasure, Us-Yri flooded Set, his semen filling every crevice.

Us-Yri winced at the memory, slowly stirring the fire. Physical love felt very good, but once over, it left a sour taste behind. If he really thought about it, an uncontrollable fit of rage surged through him at the easiness with which Set aroused him despite his better judgment. To calm down, he wondered again if this was his true destiny or, like Heru-Ur had suggested, his path lay elsewhere.

“You will accomplish great things,” his brother's voice wafted through his mind, “a brilliant destiny that will take you far.”

“How can you be sure, Heru-Ur?” he had asked surprised.

Heru-Ur had sipped his wine, his gaze fixed on the ruler. “I just feel it, brother,” he had said eventually.

“I'm doing the best I can for Kemet,” Us-Yri had observed neutrally.

“Don't be modest, brother. You're doing great things for Kemet and people will remember you forever, I'm sure. But I don't see your destiny tied to Kemet. It has to do with something far greater.”

“Funny you should say this because,” Us-Yri dropped his head, staring into his half-empty cup, “I feel I've failed somehow.”

They were silent for a long time, both taken by their thoughts. As usual, Us-Yri's mind strayed to Set. He just could not seem to break the strangle hold the younger man had on him. Definitely not an intellectual one, the ruler mused, suppressing a grin at the thought he could be having this conversation with Set. As a matter of fact, they hardly talked, their communication on a physical level alone. And he takes advantage of the situation. Set's influence on Kemet's life had been steadily rising since his return to the Palace. Or better yet, since he got in my bed.

Confused, he raised his head, shifting his gaze back to Heru-Ur. “How do you manage it?”

“Manage what?”

“To resist the body's calling, the sensual pleasures.”

“Is that what's troubling you, lately?” Heru-Ur asked softly, turning the wine cup in his hand.

The ruler sighed. “I can't resist temptations ... not all anyway. There's someone who ... well, I can't stop his power of attraction, though I feel guilty afterward.” He breathed deeper.

Heru-Ur did not comment, but his eyes clearly indicated he knew exactly what his brother was talking about.

“How did you find your way?” Us-Yri asked at last.

“That's life's challenge, brother,” Heru-Ur answered softly, “for every man to find out.”

“Then I failed,” the ruler remarked.

“Not necessarily.” Heru-Ur shifted in his chair, then continued. “The issue is a bit complicated.” His gaze shifted to the fire. “I will tell you my own personal point of view, but don't take any of this as Truth. Unfortunately, in this world we can never understand completely because a veil covers our eyes.” He paused briefly before continuing. “I believe the gods give us three tools to travel the path of Life—Body, Mind and Soul. Only the Soul will live on forever, but like a bird we desperately want to keep with us, the Body locks it in a cage. These limitations are more than enough to make us lose the right way. The Soul holds the key to our life, the past, the present and all the future lives as well—”

“You really believe we have more than one life?”

“Of course, Us-Yri. There are just too many things to learn in one single lifetime alone. We need time to grow, develop, learn about the world and mostly ourselves. Piecing together this information will set our Soul free. But Body and Mind work against it, so we can seldom collect all the right pieces and connect them in just one lifetime.”

“But how many do we need to reach—”

“Awareness?” Heru-Ur shrugged. “Each Soul will take its own time, Us-Yri. There are no fixed rules. Of course, if the Body and Mind's limitations are strong, a Soul could take forever before it grasps the Truth.”

“Is that how you feel, Heru-Ur?”

“I feel trapped, brother. My soul longs to escape this body, to rebel to my mind's control and finally be free. That's why I choose to defeat the body on its own battleground—physical temptations—while I feed my mind so that it will lead my soul in the right direction. Of course, it's a daily struggle and to be honest, I don't always manage to win.” He sighed, probably recalling his failures, one of which had happened at the Spring Feast, as Set had been quick to tell the ruler. “But one thing I've learned. Everyone has his own path to travel and though you may feel you've failed, you never see the greater picture until the end.”

“The greater picture?” Us-Yri asked, perplexed.

“You see, we live our seemingly unimportant life, focused only on the day to day routine. The gods see a much bigger picture where everyone connects with the others and with the final design, as if individual lives were pieces of a giant puzzle. It is for superior minds alone to glimpse this complex pattern. We mortals seldom have the chance to see it, although if you're particularly gifted, you may have this privilege.” Heru-Ur looked at Us-Yri's worried face.

“But that's a very rare case. Most people just go through life, making random choices, hardly worrying about how they might fit in a greater picture. But I've learned that every choice affects our lives, whether we're aware of it or not. More than that, our choices reveal how we want to live, so simply looking into your conscience sometimes can be enough to determine our direction...” he stared hard at Us-Yri, “and eventually change it.”

He took a deep breath. “As strange as it may seem, the most despicable actions are often a blessing in disguise because we never know how they fit into the greater picture that escapes our limited awareness. If we've loved passionately someone who could end up betraying us—” He stopped abruptly as if afraid of saying too much. Then he shrugged and continued, “Well, even betrayal, as bad as it seems, can become a precious lesson and a required step in order fulfill your destiny.” He touched the ruler's arm. “Never judge yourself too hard, brother. Just remember that sometimes you have to fall very low before you rise in shiny splendor.”

Lower than this, Us-Yri mused wryly, as these words echoed in his mind while stirring the burning woods, I can only dig.

“Did you call for me, Ausir?” the familiar voice cut through his thoughts.

Heart in his throat, pulse racing, Us-Yri suppressed the urge to run to Set. Instead, he looked up from the fire, glancing briefly at the beloved face, then turned back to focus on the wood crackling under the flames. “Did I?” he mumbled, pretending not to remember. He poked the bigger logs for a moment, before speaking again. “Maybe, it was something related to the recruitment.”

* * * *

Reports on suspicious neighbor activities had prompted Set to pretend the rigorous action Us-Yri had been postponing. Actually, Set dreamed of a large and strong Kemet, which would eventually incorporate all the lands bordering on Hapi's long river shores. He had not dared confess this thought to Us-Yri. Instead, he simply claimed that the military was in sore shape, not up to handling a crisis if the situation worsened. “We need fresh troops,” he argued, “in order to guarantee Kemet's safety.”

Initially, the ruler had not felt inclined to grant Set's wish. Only after his lover's stubborn insistence and the counselors strenuous support of Set's plans, did Us-Yri agree to start a recruitment campaign, pretending at the same time improvements in the troops living conditions. He wanted better shelters and better food. “Because they are our men and not unknown slaves,” he had argued to Set's face.

The captain had bowed to his requests and followed the ruler's instructions scrupulously.

“The recruitment is going as expected, Ausir. Families rely heavily on their sons for food and security, so they're not inclined to give them up easily. Luckily, the new living conditions have attracted many, especially the younger generation. I'm sure in no time at all, we'll have a full military force just like Kemet deserves.”

* * * *

“That's good,” the ruler mumbled absent-mindedly. He left the poker next to the fireplace and went to his table.

Set shifted on his feet. “What's wrong, Ausir?” he demanded, moving dangerously close.

“Nothing,” Us-Yri lied, taking a step back.

“Don't lie to me ... brother,” Set said softly. “I know you too well for you to play these stupid games.” He took another step forward. “What's wrong?” he asked again. “What is it you really wanted to tell me?”

Us-Yri sighed. Eventually, he would have to tell him, so this was as good an occasion as any. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into icy waters. “All right, devil. I wanted to break off our—”

“You don't want me in your bed anymore?” Set cut in, his tone deceptively even and restrained.

Us-Yri nodded, the words too painful to say.

With a single stride, Set was almost on top of him, his warm breath on Us-Yri's face. “Why?”

The ruler cleared his throat. “It's ... what we've been doing, I mean, it's not right. I've been neglecting Aset—”

“Since when does she command you?” Set demanded icily.

“She's not commanding me,” Us-Yri pointed out, trying to keep his voice in check. “In fact, she hasn't said a word. I just read it in her eyes every time we—”

“All I see ... brother, is extreme pleasure and satisfaction,” the captain objected, his eyes blazing probably at the memory of their passionate nights together.

Us-Yri blushed, his own mind filled with the same erotic scenes. “It has nothing to do with that,” he argued, starting to feel angry.

“Then please enlighten me, Your Highness,” Set mocked.

Us-Yri took a deep breath, calming his wildly beating heart. “For one thing, the gods don't see our union favorably. Aset can't seem able to conceive, but Kemet needs an heir.” He looked apologetically at Set as if aware his words sounded like an excuse.

“So, take another mate,” Set suggested coldly. “The world's full of women waiting for your call.”

The mere thought appalled the ruler. “I couldn't do that to her ... not after everything we've gone through. Besides, it wouldn't solve the real problem,” he cleared his throat, “which has to do with us and ... destiny. There must be something more to life than just...” he stopped, acutely aware of Set's body too close for comfort, “physical attraction. Heru-Ur believes—”

“Since when do you listen to ascetic foolishness?”

“Heru-Ur is anything but foolish,” Us-Yri spat, his voice rising angrily. “Then he must have gotten you with his two-faced philosophy,” Set continued smoothly.

“The Spring Feast was only an incident, which required fertility as a duty. He's not perfect, I know, but just because he's chosen to travel a different path in life doesn't mean he's a fool or a hypocrite ... quite the contrary, in fact. There are things connected with the Soul's destiny, which he understands far better than anyone else.”

“And what had the enlightened man to say on the subject?”

Us-Yri took another step back, then fixed his gaze on Set. “Simply that man chooses his own destiny. Our purpose in life is to let our souls learn and grow, but I'll certainly fail, if I'm constantly distracted by your ... presence.”

Set grinned, in spite of the situation. “How does Heru-Ur know for certain that the soul is our primary concern in life?” He took a firm step forward, his mouth close to Us-Yri's ear. “How can he be certain that we shouldn't pursue our body's inclinations instead, giving in to its sensual attraction?” he breathed softly. “What's so wrong about carnal desires anyway? Aren't they just as noble as the spiritual ones?”

Us-Yri pulled back again. “No, devil, you're wrong. Spiritual necessities are much higher than the material ones.”

“Then please explain why are we born human? Why do the gods give us a body if our sole purpose is to ignore it?”

At first, Us-Yri was at a loss for an answer. “Because that's the challenge,” he offered at last. “Resistance will strengthen our Souls, the only part of us that lives forever, returning lifetime after lifetime.”

“How can you be sure, Ausir?” Set insisted. “Who can guarantee we have more than one life? All I know is that this is the only chance I have at living and I should make the best of it.”

“I want that as well, devil. That's why I'm asking you to end our affair.” His black gaze dug deep into Set's luminous eyes. “I'm sorry about it, really.”

Set regarded him coldly. “No, you aren't. I don't buy this new self-righteous attitude of yours. The plain truth is that you want to get rid of the best thing that's ever happened to you because it's ... inconvenient.”

“No, devil, I'm really sorry—”

“Well, I'm furious.”

They glared at each other for a moment, the fire crackling the only sound in the cold room.

Repressing the urge to touch him, the ruler sighed. “I know you don't believe me, devil, and maybe you're right.” He took a deep breath. “I love you, devil, even more than I cared to admit, but now, I know my destiny lies elsewhere.” He took a step forward. “And my path may seem twisted to you, but the road the gods assigned me steers away from sensual satisfaction, more in the direction of spiritual fulfillment.” He shrugged. “Who knows, it may even include betrayal or hate. So, I'd understand if you wanted to take your revenge on me.”

“Would that fulfill your destiny?” Set mocked, his gaze searching Us-Yri's face as if looking for a confirmation. Apparently reading it, he backed away. “Fine, Your Highness, if that's how you want to play the game from now on, I won't object. I have plenty to do with the recruitment anyway. With Your permission,” he eyed Us-Yri as if challenging him to deny it, “I'll leave the Palace and you won't even have to put up with my ... cumbersome presence.”

Without another word, Set turned his back. Struggling against himself, a broken hearted Us-Yri watched him leave, already feeling cold and empty inside.

* * * *

The chamber blazed under the light of innumerable torches, playing fiery games with the shadowy dark corners. The celebration in Us-Yri's honor marked another completed sun cycle, which after its journey through the sky, was back in the Goat, the ruler's birth constellation.

Dressed in ceremonial clothes, people milled about, tasting the specialties the ruler had ordered for the occasion, drinking his plentiful wine and toasting in Us-Yri's direction every time they passed under his table.

The ruler sat at one end of the chamber, raised from the floor by a wooden platform slaves had built the night before. Aset, sitting in regal composure, looked down on the crowd in smiling satisfaction. Since her mate had sent Set away, life had been much easier. In a way, she felt she had her man back, though sometimes late at night, memories of double sexual ravishments disturbed her sleep.

She had hated Set, almost as much as she had craved his physical attention, though it hurt to admit it. True, initially her reactions had been of complete disgust, but subtly things had changed. He had taken it as a personal challenge to win her over and despite her resistance, her body had relished his fiery lovemaking more than expected. If his attitude had been just a pose to impress Us-Yri, she neither knew nor cared to know.

Whatever it had been though, it had driven her mate to choose between them. And she was more than satisfied with his arrangement, she thought, glancing once again at the happy crowd sending their best wishes to their ruler. Just as she leaned back in her seat, a cup of dark wine in her hand, a commotion at the door caught her attention.

“What is it?” she turned to Us-Yri next to her.

* * * *

“Good evening everyone,” a familiar voice answered before Us-Yri had a chance to open his mouth. “And many happy wishes to you, my esteemed brother,” Set continued, coming to the center of the chamber and bowing deeply.

Behind him, three guards were bringing what looked like a big wooden chest, finely decorated and brightly painted. When they set in front of the royal table, everyone saw it had a human shape with large shoulders narrowing down to a slender waist and long legs. Using brilliant colors, the artist had drawn a man's body, following the case's curving line, complete with a realistic dark skinned human face. Its eyes closed, the man seemed to be sleeping, his hands crossed on his chest holding the emblems of power. His robe was a rich dark blue with golden ornaments embroidered on the fabric, adding a special shine to the final effect.

“What is it, devil?” Us-Yri asked, leaving the table to examine the object closer.

“Just a little something an artist in a faraway village makes for his own pleasure,” Set replied, his gaze caressing Us-Yri. “People think he's mad to waste so much time and effort on a simple chest, but I asked him to make one in a man's shape.” He bent on the chest and flipped the lid open. He turned to the crowd. “I will bestow this wonderful work of art to anyone who can fit perfectly inside it.”

Curiosity brought people closer and they gathered around the strange object. From the open lid, everyone saw the chest could comfortably hold a man lying on his back. No one dared speak for a long while, all waiting for Us-Yri to say something. When the ruler remained silent, a man gathered enough courage.

“Can I try it?” he asked, gesturing at the box.

“Sure, Khneum.” Set stepped aside to let him through. “Go right ahead.”

The man entered the chest and lay down, but his small body hardly matched the empty space. Disappointed, Khneum climbed out just as another man stepped forward to try it. This time though, the body was bigger than the confined space, so he could not even lie down. These failed attempts signaled the start of a new game and soon after, a succession of men tried to fill the open chest, hoping to win it as a prize. With a sardonic smile, Set invited everyone inside the coffin, but they were either too big or too small to match its size. Some were simply too tall. Others, though of the right height, did not fit because of their chest or hip size. Everyone struggled to fit inside, but had to retreat at the imperatives of physical law.

“I'm afraid no one quite fits the measure.” Set shook his head dejectedly, looking over the long line of unsuccessful men. “I guess I'll have to take the gift back with me.” He turned and his eyes caught Us-Yri's black gaze.

* * * *

The ruler had not moved from his position, thoroughly absorbed by each failed attempt. While men of all sizes and shapes tried their luck, he had examined the chest from every angle. Something about it intrigued him, but the thought did not strike until Set trapped his eyes. Unable to avert the direct confrontation, Us-Yri lost himself in the brilliantly green gaze. The world faded away and he was aware only of Set standing so close yet so far.

With a thumping heart, Us-Yri admitted how much he had missed the young man ... in and out of bed. He longed for the physical intimacy he had shared with him alone. He missed the sensual body moving stealthily like a cat through the Palace hallways, its elegant stride a sight to fill anyone's eyes. Without Set's grace, the Palace had seemed an empty shell, almost as lonely as Us-Yri's heart. And now, having him back after all that time seemed almost unreal. How long has it been? The Sun's half cycle? Or even more? The unexpected return the ruler of how barren his days had been. He wanted to be alone with his beloved, to show him how much he had missed their physical connection. That his destiny lay elsewhere did not seem important at the moment.

Unable to contain his longing, he wanted to drown in Set's gaze, but a hidden emotion hit him in the stomach. It was not just the sardonic gleam or the unspoken challenge that urged him to declare his intentions. There was something else entirely. Hate? Fear? Betrayal? Us-Yri could not be sure, but the words left his lips before he could stop them.

“No, wait. I want to try it, too.”

A flash of regret crossed Set's eyes, a painful awareness that drove deep inside Us-Yri's heart. But it lasted only a second as the green gaze quickly recovered its usual ironic look.

Taking one step back, Set bowed deeply. “Please do, Your Highness.”

Us-Yri placed one leg inside, then the other. He lay down carefully, stretching both his legs slowly, adjusting his shoulders to the narrow space. He held his breath to allow for a tighter fit, but there was no need. He fitted perfectly inside the coffin, as if it were a second skin.

Before he had time to realize what was happening, Set jumped on the lid and smashed it down on Us-Yri's body, nailing the top to the bottom with a hammer he had hidden inside his robe.

* * * *

Everyone surged forward to stop him, but guards had been streaming unnoticed inside the chamber during the fitting game until their number was double that of the guests. As a result, they surrounded their Leader, holding the people back.

“Stop right there,” one voice rang out from the crowd. A furious Aset left the table to throw herself against Set.

He glanced at a guard and the man caught her before she could do any harm.

“Let me go,” she ordered. “I'm the Queen and I demand you let go of me.”

“Shut up,” Set hissed. “From now on, there's going to be only one Leader.”

Another nod and three guards picked up the coffin, taking it away.

“Noooooo!” Aset screamed, struggling against the guard for freedom. “Where are you taking him? Come back here.”

No one else spoke, too frightened of the imposing number of guards holding the Palace hostage. Set looked at them, contempt flashing at every glance.

“Us-Yri is gone. From now on, I'm the new ruler,” he announced calmly, “and everyone would do well to obey me.”

The guards shifted their weapons and only Aset dared to talk. “You can never take his place,” she spat angrily. “I will find him, wherever you've taken him—”

“Shut up,” Set ordered again. “Now leave,” he addressed the crowd.

He watched them stream out of the chamber, their eyes dazed, their minds numbed. The guard behind him was about to take Aset with him when Set stopped him. “No, she stays,” he ordered. Then, moving closer, Set whispered something in his ear.

Bowing slightly, the man released Aset's arms, then left the room.

She was on him even before the last man stepped out the door. “What do you think you're doing?” she hissed angrily.

He grabbed her wrists and held her back. “Becoming the new ruler, of course. Isn't it obvious, my dear?”

“He'll never allow it, bastard,” she spat, struggling to get free.

He tightened his grip, crushing the fragile bones. “Forget him. He's dead by now.”

She stopped, hurt by the news, but resolved not to show any weakness in front of Set. “I'll give him back life,” she assured in a tone designed to convince herself more than him.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “if you manage to find him.”

Her face turned white. “What do you mean?”

He relaxed his hold and pulled her closer. “It means, my dear,” his lips brushed her cheek, “that I've ordered his body be cut into a million pieces and scattered across Kemet ... all except one, that is.”

* * * *

A horrified look glazed Aset's eyes, her mind refusing to consider even the mere notion of what he was saying. “But ... you can't,” she argued weakly.

“Sorry to contradict you, dear,” his tongue traced the edge of her soft lips, “but as the new ruler, I can do whatever I want. The guards are very faithful to their commander.”

She felt washed out of strength, the horror penetrating slowly inside did not make her think clearly. “Why?” she asked at last. “He ... loved you.”

* * * *

A painful clutch gripped Set's heart first, then his stomach. Because he asked me to betray him? Or was it because he wanted ... no, better yet needed my betrayal for some obscure purpose known only to him and his gods? Whatever the answer, the issue was just too complicated for a discussion, of any kind. Besides, he had no wish to reveal their intimate details to the one person who perhaps could understand them. “I wanted the power for myself,” he lied eventually. Then he crushed her body to him and his tongue penetrated in her mouth. “And you, of course,” he breathed huskily when he managed to pull away.

Incredulous, Aset struggled to get free. “Let me go, bastard,” she shouted. “You don't want me. You've never wanted me.”

“How wrong you are, dear.” Set pushed her to the ground, holding her pinned to the cold floor. “I may despise you.” With one hand he stripped her robe away. “But your body has some very intriguing qualities.” His hand trailed on the round ass, wriggling as Aset tried harder to break free. “As a matter of fact, if you're particularly good, I may even take you as my new Queen.”

“I'd rather die than become your Queen,” she spat angrily.

“That could be arranged,” he informed be arranged, too,” he informed her coldly, “'but it would be a pity, dear, considering how well we know each other.” His fingers found their way to the narrow hole and buried deep inside it.

* * * *

She stopped moving at the sudden pain. “Take your paws off me,” she ordered again, trying to salvage her dignity.

“And forsake this wonderful ass of yours?” His fingers increased the pressure as they began a rhythmic dance, slipping in and out. “I told you, if you're good to me, I'll allow you to keep your title.”

He licked his fingers, then teased the soft asshole once again, slipping also beneath her stomach. She fought back the impulse to give in to his seductions, her mind struggling against her body's weak resistance. But he knew just where and how to touch her as she remembered all too well.

Knowing that anger would not work with Set, she changed strategy. “Don't you already have a Queen, Set?” she mocked. “What will happen to Nebet-het?”

Now it was his turn to be angry. “That bitch?” He pulled off his robe, unable to contain his own excitement. “That bitch even seduced Us-Yri, pretending to be you.”

“What?” She wanted to ask more, but he pushed his hard cock inside her butt and she went silent.

He did not give her time to adjust, quickly filling her narrow space. Her tight ass remembered just how to fit him snugly, but before it made the necessary adjustments, he began a sequence of slow thrusts, slipping in and out.

* * * *

At first, he simply wanted to test her reactions, but his motivations ran deeper. Unsure why, he wanted her to feel pleasure rather than pain, her surrender more exciting than any forced compliance. So, his hand slipped again beneath her stomach to reach the tender wet flesh closed between her legs. His fingers rubbed the silky folds, first sinking into her dripping slit, then increasing pressure on the slippery clit. With a satisfied grin, he felt her get wetter as he moved inside her ass. “Yes, dear,” he breathed hotly in her ear, “you are the only turn-on for both of us. Why else do you think that stupid bitch had to steal your looks in order to seduce your man?”

* * * *

She did not reply, caught in Set's sensual game. Her mind had convinced her she had forgotten about his lovemaking, but her body remembered all too well, responding with a passion that she did not believe she could feel under the circumstances. Yet, the more he thrust, the harder she pushed back, her butt swallowing his entire hard length. The rhythm became more frantic as both accelerated the dance until a blazing ball of fire exploded inside Aset, traveling from her ass to the tip of her toes and up to her hair before starting its journey all over. Her muscles, convulsively tensed a second before relaxing altogether, contracted only when a new pleasure wave washed over her body. The succession of waves followed one another in rapid sequence until Set slammed one last time into her and peaked noisily.

Exhausted, he collapsed on Aset's sweaty body, his breathing heavy in her ear.

She crawled from under him, her legs too weak to stand. With a last effort, she put her robe back on, then turned to his limp form still lying on the floor.

“I will never be your Queen, Set. I love only one man and I won't rest until I find him ... all of him again. Even if it takes me all the lifetimes the gods have given me, I will put him back together and when he's whole again, I will give him back the life you stole from him tonight.” She went to the door, then as if she changed her mind, she whirled around. “And when he's whole again, he'll return to reap his vengeance and I'll be standing right next to him.”

* * * *

Three short days after the terrible banquet gave Set the official recognition he craved, especially since military force was all on his side. After careful planning, the execution of his project had gone more than satisfactorily ... except perhaps for Us-Yri's death.

Set closed his eyes, trying to send his deep-rooted anguish away. So far, he had managed to avoid thinking about what had happened. At the end of the third day though, he could not hold back the painful memories anymore. Resigned, he allowed the agonizing tide to drown his mind, flooding him with images of Us-Yri, and he felt sick.

Too late, he had realized how much he had loved the ruler. All along, he had pretended it was just physical attraction or rather a passionate game that meant nothing beyond its obvious pleasure. But his pretension had crumbled miserably to pieces the moment Us-Yri informed him it was over. Standing there, listening to the unbelievable words, a searing pain had torn his insides, shredding heart, stomach, lungs ... all the vital organs dedicated to loving his wonderful lover. That was the real issue, he realized as his life shattered into a million pieces. He loved the tall black man, with a twinkle in his eyes, a ready smile and his open attitude that welcomed anyone with a problem. A part of him had wanted to beg, plead, throw himself at U-Yri's mercy ... anything except end the incredible connection. But his pride had not allowed him to give voice to his deepest feelings, so he had stood furious and trembling, unable to speak.

Set suppressed a sigh. He had taken the ruler for granted for so long, savoring only his physical side. True, he had planned to seduce Us-Yri from the start, initially interested only in his power. But plotting his downfall, he had hardly considered the agonizing consequences. The slow seductive moves and the meaningful looks were part of a greater plan, carefully throughout to entice the ruler's sexual favors in order to entrap him.

Though the redhead could not be sure, it had probably started back in childhood, the first times Set had noticed Us-Yri looking at him in a particular way, one he reserved for him alone. He had not felt guilty at the time. Geb preferred Us-Yri anyway. It was quite obvious, even if he insisted on calling every child his son, just like the hypocrite he was. Jealousy and an insatiable hunger had worked to etch a brilliant scheme that achieved his goal in the end. But Set had not considered all the variables. Seduction was a dangerous game that worked both ways, requiring the seducer to feel the attraction as much as the seduced—if not more—in order to make it credible. If Set had not fallen into his own trap like Us-Yri did, he would never have succeeded.

So, he had plunged into Us-Yri's magic, reveling in his touch, wanting his body like none before him, drowning his senses in the black man's allure. Once inside that sensual universe, Set would have been satisfied, even willing to forget his ambitions just to stay by Us-Yri's side. It was the main reason he had included Aset in their intimate games, understanding how much the ruler loved her.

But when Us-Yri gave him the terrible news, Set only wanted revenge. Give me back my heart, he had wanted to shout, and the time I spent convincing you to love me. Nothing had escaped his lips, his mind already bent on resurrecting the original plan he had been foolish enough to set aside. But apparently, this choice was not his to take.

Taking a deep breath, Set recalled Us-Yri's cryptic words right before he had left the Palace, something about ... betrayal. Who exactly said it the first time? Set wondered again, knowing the answer perfectly well. Why Us-Yri had spoken of betrayal was still a mystery to Set. In his last conversation, the ruler had dropped hints at some indefinable destiny that required extreme actions. Already hurt and angry, Set had not listened closely, but at the celebration it had come back to him. That fateful moment when time had stood still, haunted Set's dreams. In a flash, Us-Yri had sealed his destiny, choosing an ending perhaps too dramatic for Set's tastes. His plan had never included his lover's physical death, only his replacement. But he asked me for one, Set recalled, thinking over their last conversation, as if only I could fulfill his destiny.

“That's right, devil. Only you could,” a familiar voice broke through his thoughts. “In fact, I could ask no one else but you.”

Startled, Set raised his head and the color drained from his face at seeing Us-Yri standing in front of the fireplace—his favorite place.

“Ausir...” Set asked unsure. When the figure nodded, he got up and ran to him. “But ... it's impossible! You're dead!”

“Death is a state of mind, Sethi,” Us-Yri assured. “Here, touch.”

Incredulous, Set's shaking hand grasped Us-Yri's open palm, which felt solidly human. Still disbelieving, the redhead touched other parts of the allegedly dead ruler and they all felt vibrantly alive. Numbed, Set gazed at Us-Yri. “How is it possible?” he repeated. “Only three days have passed since—”

“Since you had me dismembered,” Us-Yri confirmed wryly.

That was another painful memory Set preferred to forget. After reading the decision to die in Us-Yri's eyes, he had felt even more betrayed because everyone would forever blame him for the ruler's horrible end rather than the real culprit.

“I know,” Us-Yri continued softly, Set's thoughts obviously clear to him.

“Then why did you ask me to do it?” Set shouted.

He had not wanted to betray Us-Yri, much less order his troops to cut him into pieces. Yet, when he realized Us-Yri had sealed not only his fate, but Set's as well, the young man had struck randomly in a blind rage at the few bloody parts his guards had shown him, pulverizing them until nothing recognizable remained of the once magnificent body. Feeling guilty afterward, he had asked his men to scatter them throughout Kemet's lands—all but one.

“I loved you, Ausir,” Set continued, unable to lower his voice. “I would have done anything for you in the end, so why did you have to send me away?”

“Because I loved you, too, devil, but your love stood in the way of my destiny.”

“What is this fucking destiny you keep talking about? We are flesh and blood—”

“No, devil, I'm much more now.” He fixed his eyes on Set. “Aset gathered the pieces—”

“How could she in just three days? I gave precise instructions to my men. They had to scatter them—”

“All except one, right, devil?”

Set blushed violently. “I couldn't ... part with it,” he admitted, thinking of the penis hidden away.

“I know. Aset replaced it with a golden one.”

“Really?” Set's eyes glittered as he felt tempted to ask to see it. Then reality set in. “I still don't understand how she could in only three days, gather everything.”

“Time is a magical dimension, devil, one we can learn to master. Aset's love transcended the physical boundaries and completed a task that would have taken several lifetimes to accomplish.”

“Is that how she managed to do it? With love?”

Us-Yri nodded slowly. “Love is a powerful emotion—”

Puzzled at the pause, Set looked up and felt the brown gaze bore deeply into his eyes.

“As you well know,” Us-Yri concluded in a whisper. Then his face softened, proving again his new power to read minds, especially the very confused ones. “Come here,” he breathed, opening his arms and embracing him. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, hugging him close.

“Why me?” Set sobbed. “I loved you.”

“Who else could I ask to betray me if not the one I most loved? I needed you to do this for me, otherwise I would have never transcended this physical form.”

Set inhaled deeply his smell, his body trying to melt inside the black man's powerful embrace. “What have you become now, Ausir?” he finally asked.

The slow smile lit Us-Yri's face, starting with a simple grin, but enlarging to brighten his features. “Now, my dear devil, I am Divinitas.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Three

So, the Word experienced sensual pleasures. As it shared the knowledge when reunited with the One, every collective thought lived the anguish of carnal desire as well as the incomparable physical ecstasy it provided. In rational logic, there was no substitute, which could adequately replace sensuality. The Soul, powerless to fight the Body's spell, would always succumb. But was it inevitable?

The Word lacked the experience to deal with the dangerous physical sensations. That had been only the first step, the discovery of self-awareness. To learn restraint seemed a necessary corollary, but one lifetime was hardly enough to acquire the desired perspective or the balance needed. Only facing the challenge again could increase its knowledge and develop its resistance to the same blind lust that overwhelmed carnal senses in sweeping, agonizingly blissful throes. To help it further, a glimmer of the old knowledge would remain to guide its new steps. As before, its goal was to master sensuality and the power of seduction, then teach the others the ways to free the Soul.

It was time to start a new journey.

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Chapter Four

Prince Mitra-Varuna stretched luxuriously in his comfortable bed, covered with a gold embroidered bedspread that fell elegantly to the floor. As his arms reached to the sky, he almost hit the sleeping form next to him, still immersed in the world of dreams. Annoyed, Mitra peered at him, trying to remember a name. But he failed to produce one.

He had no clear memory about the other night. He had gone to one of the meetings—his father insisted on it—but as usual did not pay much attention to the ritual itself. The Magi had said something about the connections between fire and the soul's eternal journey. Mitra did not believe in an afterlife. He only wanted to enjoy the present one as sensually as possible. That was the reason he had spent most of his time during the meeting exchanging glances with a newcomer, just arrived from Herat with his sister's traveling party.

Herat was Mitra's birthplace. Aryans had invaded it in his father's younger days and though he had succeeded in defeating them eventually, traces of their influence remained. His complete name, for instance, was a testimony of his mother's love of Aryan culture.

Mitra liked the sound of his complete name, though people seldom used it, more accustomed to its shorter version. The Magi sometimes used the formal name to get his attention during rituals, but it was not always effective and last night had been only a further reminder. His gaze not wavering from his target, Mitra had sent fiery looks at the young man sitting right in front of him. Only a tiny aisle separated the two stone benches inside the Temple's nave, yet they seemed oceans apart. Mitra had shifted on the soft plaster that covered the hard stone, trying to find a more comfortable position, one that would take his mind—but mostly his cock—off the young beauty on the opposite side. An impossible task, Mitra knew it from the start, though he pretended to achieve a certain degree of success.

“My dear son,” his father, Ahura, had told him more than once, “you have to control this ... drive of yours. Your body is not the only important thing in this life.”

“Why father?” he had asked, feigning ignorance. “Do you know of something better?”

* * * *

Ahura had shaken his head. He dearly loved his son and was proud to see he had turned into a handsome man. Tall for a people where height was not a given, his dark skin gleamed under the soft light spread by torches hung on the chamber walls. He had long shiny dark hair that fell to his waist and partly covered his triangular face. The arresting brown eyes were his most striking feature, deep and luminous. They told Ahura an ancient tale of rebirths of which his son seemed completely unaware.

Ahura sighed. “You see, the soul is just as important, if not more than your body. You should feed it, rather than waste time on material pleasures, learn about love—”

“I know all about love,” Mitra assured defiantly, remembering passionate embraces and torrid nights.

His father shook his head. “Not that kind of love, Mitra. I'm talking of something more spiritual like a light from within that has to break out and shine on everyone, no one excluded.”

“Oh, father,” the youngster scoffed, “please don't start that again.”

Ahura had the bad tendency to repeat himself. He wanted his people to have a better future, especially their eternal one, so he endorsed a new religion based on love, tolerance, respect, doing good and struggling against evil.

“Would you rather be like your uncle?” the ruler asked coldly.

Ahriman controlled part of the vast territory—later known as the Persian Empire—that his brother, Ahura, had conquered. After fighting against the Aryans, Ahura had led his troops—the Immortals as they were known—westward to the great plains and valleys lying beyond the mountains. Not many people lived there, so conquest was relatively easy. At present, he was consolidating his rule from Hegmataaneh, a city set in a green mountainous region at the foothills of the Alvand Mountains. Mitra's uncle, Ahriman, had stayed behind in Herat to control the extensive region stretching to the Indus Valley. Too big a territory for a man incapable of handling responsibility, Ahura thought dejectedly, thinking of the horrible news he was receiving lately.

Information was always difficult to obtain over vast lands due to lack of efficient means or better yet, of the will to communicate. However, reports had trickled in of his brother's cruel repressions against enemies. Whether true or presumed—Ahriman never stopped to investigate—if he deemed someone an enemy, he first tortured the man, then impaled him, skinned him alive or burned him or ... Ahura preferred to ignore the gory details. His son, aware of these cruelties, winced at the mere suggestion.

“Exactly my thought,” Ahura commented sadly, reading into Mitra's involuntary twitch. He had tried stopping his brother, but nothing short of outright war could save the poor tortured souls and Ahura did not have enough means at present. Instead, he relied on religion and revolutionary ideas to change people's minds, Hopefully my brother's as well.

Of course, it was not enough to defeat evil, especially when his own son persisted in defiling his body, rather than use it more productively. “The soul is here to learn and grow,” Ahura continued. “Its journey never ceases, not even with death. It comes back in this world lifetime after lifetime to reach for one more Truth.”

* * * *

So, I've taken a lifetime off-course, Mitra wanted to inform his father. “But aren't we also made of flesh, father?” he asked instead. “And shouldn't the two live together harmoniously? I mean, would it be right if I neglected my body to favor my soul? After all, shouldn't there be a reason why we're born human?”

* * * *

Again, his son's insight surprised Ahura, though it should not have. He had known from the start that his son's destiny was far greater than the mere mortal journey. He had seen it clearly in the traces of an ancient soul buried deep inside the Prince's elegant form. Ahura also witnessed its daily struggles to be set free, but the battle seemed still long. “We're born human to learn to balance between the two, of course. That should be our final goal, but sadly, my son, you still have a long journey ahead of you.”

Mitra shrugged. “I'm young. I have time.”

“Oh yes,” his father agreed. “That's why, starting today, you'll follow the Magi's rituals in the underground Temple. You'll start as an initiate, at the very first level, and work your way up ... if you can.”

“But, father—”

Ahura raised his hand. “I have taken my decision. You'll join the Magi's new group of men, which is just starting on the road to knowledge.”

* * * *

Luckily, this religion was prevalently a man's cult, Mitra's favorite subjects. He had no love for women, never did under any point of view. With a very few exceptions, he found them stupid, unworthy of his time or attention. He especially disliked them physically, with their blatant curves that no amount of clothes could hide. Men's straight bodies were his heart's desire. He could never keep his hands off a lean, elegant body, muscles rippling beneath ... but especially above the surface. Mitra loved to clutch the firm buttocks and push them against his stirring cock, soon hardening at his mind's anticipation of the next erotic moves.

When his mouth closed on the new conquest, Mitra felt the happiest man in the world. Who needs a soul when you have so much pleasure from a simple muscle? his mind would wonder briefly before plunging into the ocean of velvety sensations that waited arousal.

Never interested in the man, only in his sex, Mitra loved to play erotic games to satisfy his deep lust for cocks. Lips sliding on the long stem, the Prince sucked avidly as his tongue wrapped the bulging head tightly, teasing the soft skin, tracing every curve and pattern. Mitra's head moved at the same rhythm, his mouth greedily taking the delicious cock as deep as his throat, sucking hard when he reached the top, then plunging back down, swallowing it whole until he almost choked on it. Sometimes, the man did not have the strength to resist Mitra's skills and flooded his mouth with hot dense fluid. Most times though, they both wanted more.

It was always a pleasure for the Prince to lie down on the golden bedspread, his ass raised, eagerly waiting for its prize. Apparently in the same lustful rush, his partner never waited long to plunge with a powerful shove right between the eager buttocks, groaning as the narrow opening gave way to the stone-like cock. Once firmly in place, the frantic dance began, both moving increasingly faster against one another, responding thrust after forceful thrust as their soft skins rubbed together until they burned with a heat that spread from the center all the way to their head and toes.

Intense pleasure, that's what probably happened last night, Mitra thought, looking once more at the handsome stranger sleeping besides him and feeling the familiar burning sensation in his ass. Too bad, I can't remember the details. The banquet that always followed the rituals was surely responsible for his lack of memories. Servants had brought many delicious plates laced with tasty spices, while pouring abundant wine to quench an army's thirst. All the wine's fault, the Prince mused, shaking his head and leaving the warm bed. Never one to abide by the rules, Mitra stretched once more, examining his vast array of clothing. Duty often called, though he pretended not to hear most of the times. But today, there was an important meeting he did not want to miss, so he got ready fast and left the room.

* * * *

“Brother!” The shout came from one end of the hallway. A tall dark woman with flowing long hair much like his, was running his way. He smiled widely and opened his arms to catch her.

“Artystone,” he exclaimed, holding her plump round body tight, “my dear sister, how are you?”

She kissed him lavishly on the cheek. “I'm still tired from the long journey, but other than that, I feel wonderful.”

“It's great to have you here. I've missed you so much.”

“Oh, I don't believe you,” she scoffed sweetly. “I'm sure you've managed to keep busy.”

He pulled back. “Of course I did, Artystone, but without your bright smile, the Palace seems a much darker place.” He took another step back and studied her figure at arm's length. “You look wonderful,” he said at last. His sister had always steered on the plump side, her abundant figure full of curvy innuendoes was the very image of what he disliked in women. Yet, in Artystone, it did not annoy him at all. “Uncle must have treated you well.”

She shook her head. “He had nothing to do with it, brother, but if you're good, I'll tell you my secret.”

Just then, the Prince's gaze caught an unfamiliar figure coming down the hallway. “Must be a great secret,” he commented. “As I recall, you weren't looking too well when we left Herat.”

“That was a lifetime ago,” she teased.

He nodded, but his gaze stayed on the shiny head coming their way. He had never seen the man before at Palace, yet the stranger seemed to know him, or at least his sister, and he advanced speedily as if he wanted to offer a personal greeting.

“Now my life's changed,” Artystone was saying, “and—”

“Hey, who's that?” Mitra interrupted, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.

Artystone turned around. “Oh, that's my mate, Vayu. Come, I'll introduce you.”

For the first time in his life, Mitra felt reluctant to meet a man. He stood rooted to the ground while his sister pulled him, wondering if it was safer to flee rather than face a blond devil. But curiosity had the better of him and he shifted in the direction of the uncommon stranger coming their way. Attractive unlike any other man he knew, his brother-in-law's lighter skin and shiny blond hair stood out among Persia's darker skinned men. Up close, the stranger flashed a pair of intensely green and naughty eyes on the bewildered Prince, challenging him with unspoken temptations.

* * * *

Unaware of Mitra's turmoil, Artystone grabbed Vayu's hand, squeezing it. “Brother,” she turned to Mitra, “this is my mate, Vayu.” She turned to the fair man. “Vayu, this is my beloved brother, Prince Mitra-Varuna.”

* * * *

The green eyes did not cease their challenge or their mocking as they bore deeper into Mitra's brown gaze. Embarrassed by the stare, the Prince was the first to lower his head. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbled.

“Likewise,” a foreign accent floated in Mitra's ears. “Artystone has told me so much about you.”

“Really?” Mitra asked, raising his head despite himself and falling once more inside the green depths.

“Of course, brother. I missed you so much I had to talk about you with the only person who can understand me.”

When Ahura moved to expand his territory, he had not wanted to bring the entire family along. He chose his beautiful wife, Anahita, and his son to accompany him on his conquests. Ahura's concubines, his mother and his daughter had stayed behind under Ahriman's protection. After her official mating, Ahura had wanted his daughter back.

“You're not...” Mitra asked, his eyes fighting back the newcomer's challenge.

“No, he's from a noble Aryan family. Father and uncle thought it would be best if we made our peace with them and end our feud.”

“Sacrificing you for the sake of political gains?” Mitra teased, raising an eyebrow in his sister's direction.

“No sacrifice at all, brother,” she assured, squeezing Vayu's hand again. “We fell in love the first time we met, right, darling?” she asked, shining an intense look of love on her beloved.

Vayu turned briefly to her. “Right, love,” he confirmed, but his eyes told a different story when they shone back on Mitra.

The Prince's heart stopped as he read something he should not have in those eyes. Just an impression, he reassured, shaking his head free of disturbing images. But ignoring them proved to be a harder task than he expected. The Prince loved deeply his sister and did not want to hurt her. True, Persian customs allowed concubines, if one could afford them, but somehow Mitra did not feel he qualified for the position. Damn, why did it have to be him? he wondered, angry at destiny's cruel jokes, while feeling all the Aryan's power of attraction. But the more he thought of it, the more he felt he would betray his sister if he slept with her man.

* * * *

In the long days that followed, the Prince worked hard to pretend Vayu did not exist. For days at a time, he thought he succeeded, but it was enough to glimpse the handsome stranger in a hallway, his elegant body bending toward a rapt listener, to have his mind fly away in a sexual fantasy. During official circumstances, he did his best to be at the farthest end from temptation, resisting the urge to look where his heart most wanted. Yet, when he eventually gave in to temptation, and he always did, the Prince always met the green gaze, mocking him for the wasted effort. The sight usually drove him crazy, so he would quickly turn his head, angry with the stranger, but mostly with himself. More difficult was stilling his painfully throbbing heart hammering furiously inside his stomach and cock.

Unable to stop his physical reactions, every night he had to fill his body with hungry cocks that drilled him into oblivion. A succession of different lovers shoved roughly their stiff sex inside Mitra's ass, pumping hard and fast, sometimes even hurting him.

But his mind, undeceived, never wavered from its obsession. To silence his overactive imagination, the Prince had taken to solitary night walks around the Palace, eroding more sleep from his dwindling supply. Outside, breathing the fresh cool air was the only time he felt a glimmer of peace, probably because his mortal problems seemed insignificant compared to the universe's vastly magnificent design.

The Temple taught its acolytes about constellations. His Magi insisted on developing the disciples’ knowledge of stars and their position, claiming they influenced every man's destiny. Mitra was not sure he believed it, too, but he loved to lose himself in the twinkling lights. He particularly liked to speculate about their distance from Persia or if perhaps there was someone on the other side watching him.

“New moon's nights are the best for studying the stars, aren't they?” a foreign accent broke through his wonderings.

Startled, Mitra turned, not surprised to see Vayu walking toward him. “They certainly are,” he breathed softly, his gaze running once more to the sky above, muscles tense in an effort to still his thumping heart.

Vayu walked slowly next to the Prince. “My grandfather liked to study the stars and he would take me out at nights to watch them. He also tried teaching me about constellations, though I was too little to remember.”

“They are fascinating,” Mitra agreed enthusiastically. “See there?” He indicated a point above their heads. “That brilliant blue star is the Sweeping Vulture. If you go...” he raised both hands, positioning the open palms with fingers closed one after the other, right under the sparkling light, “about eight fingers down to the south-east, you find the Goat.” His fingers traced a pattern between stars lying beneath the Sweeping Vulture. “That's my birth constellation. Next to it, on the same line to the west,” his thumb on the Goat's last star, he opened his hand wide until his forefinger reached another star to the right, “there's the Archer.”

As before, he traced the pattern in midair. “Fascinating,” Vayu said. “Now that you tell me their names, I remember my grandfather's teachings. And where's the...” he creased his forehead, as if trying to capture a memory. “Scorpion?” he asked at last as his eyes flashed a triumphant look.

“Why are you interested in the Scorpion?”

“Grandfather said it was my birth constellation.”

“Well, it's on the same line as the Goat, further to the right from the Archer,” he opened his palm again tilting it down, thumb positioned on the last star of the constellation, forefinger pointing downward, “only slightly lower.”

His gaze fixed on the starry night, Vayu had inched nearer while Mitra indicated the bright patterns, apparently absorbed by the tour.

Feeling the warm tempting body too close for comfort, Mitra took a step back, peering harder in the velvety blackness above as an effort to distract his already tense senses. “If you start from the Sweeping Vulture,” he continued, pointing again at the bright light above their heads, “about eight fingers down in a south-eastern direction,” his open palms shifted further to the right, “you find the treacherous Scorpion.”

Vayu moved closer, his body almost touching the Prince. “We're not treacherous,” he commented, apparently not offended by the epithet.

“That depends,” Mitra replied, doing his best to ignore the urge to touch him. Struggling to keep his body's desires in check, he continued his journey through the stars. “Further up, you can see the Snake and next to it the Cup Bearer.”

Vayu edged even closer. “I see,” he mumbled as if he really did not. “You know, grandfather did not just show me the stars. He loved to tell me all sorts of tales about them. He had an endless supply of stories for each of these stars and he told wonderful tales about the gods coming down from one star or another.”

“I don't know any stories,” Mitra said brusquely, moving away from the dangerously warm body. “My Magi believes the stars influence our destiny, especially the ones that shine on your birth.”

“So what do our constellations say about our future...” he grinned, “according to your Magi, of course.”

Mitra was not sure he wanted to answer the question. “Apparently, the Goat is connected to the Earth,” he began slowly, “fertility, soil regeneration, so he sees my future tied to improving the land my father has conquered, though he's unclear as to how I might accomplish it. Your constellation, however—” he stopped abruptly. Unexplainably, the Magi connected the Scorpion to sex, saying it dominated eroticism in more subtle ways than any other constellation. What future that implied, Mitra preferred not to know, especially considering how true the premises were. “I don't remember what it means,” he lied at last, silencing his hungry senses. “Sorry.”

Vayu smiled ironically as if he knew perfectly well how his birth constellation heightened his attractive power. “And you believe it, too, Prince? Do you also tie stars to destiny?”

Although dark, Mitra did not miss the sardonic twinkle in the bright green eyes. For a second, the challenge seemed irresistible as Vayu dared him to go further, but then a flash of Artystone's plump figure brought him back to reality. With an effort, Mitra tore himself away to gaze once more at the million lights brightening the sky. “He may be right,” he said at last, “though I haven't put his theory to test.”

“You could do it now,” Vayu suggested. “Do your stars speak of crossed lovers?” He moved closer again. “Of hidden passions because of impossible conventions?” he added huskily.

A world of possibilities opened up before Mitra's eyes almost as if he had suddenly stepped in the middle of the vastness above and could actually touch every single star surrounding him. Just to think he could reach out and have his heart's desire seemed unreal. For a moment, temptation to give in to the sweetest passion he had harbored seemed irresistible. If he closed his eyes, the plunge into the Aryan's magic would have been so easy ... too easy.

With a stern reprimand, the Prince recalled that Vayu was still his sister's mate. But more than that, the uncontrollable attraction felt a threat in itself, even had there been no sister to worry about. “Stars could care less about men's petty affairs,” he retorted coldly. “They laugh at our pitiful attempts for greatness, but never feel inclined to intervene.”

Then, before the situation got out of hand, he turned and left.

The night's confrontation only worsened Mitra's desire. Knowing that perhaps Vayu would not slight his advances made him long for the contact more than ever before. He doubled his efforts to avoid any close encounters, losing appetite and sleep in the process. Tension became unbearable, so he turned to the Temple to find some respite.

Until then, he had ignored the teachings, but now he began to pay attention to his Magi. The Prince knew there were seven levels of sacred mysteries. In order to progress, disciples had to go through an initiation that, if successful, gave them access to the higher level. Each passage had its own particular test and of course, the higher one climbed, the harder the trial. Vaguely, the Prince also remembered that the first four steps involved a training of the mind while the last three, the most difficult ones, worked on releasing the soul from the body's bondage.

Most adepts reached the fourth level easily, but oddly, many failed to go further perhaps due to the hardships required by the superior levels. So far, Mitra had not been interested in any testing, his so-called faith only an empty display to satisfy his father. Now though, he saw something completely different, a way to stop unwanted fantasies. Physical trials testing my body's resistance, that's exactly what I need.

“Are you sure you're ready for the test?” the Magi asked worried, looking at the Prince's burning eyes and feverish state.

Mitra nodded, wishing the trial could start immediately.

Sitting in the Temple's antechamber, the Magi regarded the Prince curled next to him for a long time. “You know,” he said at last, “the final goal is for the mind to master control over the body. When you decide to become a Raven, you must prove that you can withstand cold, hunger, thirst, loneliness as well as many other unknown dangers. Are you ready to do that?”

Again, Mitra nodded. Anything seemed better than the dull throbbing pain he felt constantly in his stomach.

“All right then, we'll leave in the morning,” the Magi announced, getting up. He began moving away, but stopped after a few paces as if changing his mind. Retracing his steps, he turned back to Mitra. “Come dressed only with a tunic,” he reminded, looking at the Prince's rich garbs. “And don't wear any jewelry.”

Again, the Prince felt his gaze travel contemptuously over the precious bracelets and earrings, one of Mitra's favorite fixtures. Without waiting for a reply, the Magi left.

* * * *

The cave was dark, musty and cold. At first, Mitra could not see anything, his senses blinded by the stinging physical reactions as he stood naked in the middle of a natural chamber while the Magi held his robe on one arm. Riding early morning, they had come to this secluded place just a few miles away from the Palace.

Lush vegetation hid the cave's entrance, but it had not stopped the Magi from pushing Mitra into a dark narrow tunnel. They had crawled for the first few minutes until they emerged in a sort of opening where they could stand.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” the Magi asked one last time.

“Yes,” Mitra assured.

“All right, but I'll wait outside.” Traditions required that the initiate remain alone inside the cave. Usually a stone sealed the entrance until the third day, when the ordeal was officially over. In this case though, the Magi felt he had to make an exception if not only because he was initiating the king's son. “If you feel you can't go through with it, just call me and I'll come get you.” His tone betrayed his worry.

Mitra knew he had strong doubts about his capacity to complete the ordeal, so he simply nodded. After all, who could blame him? the Prince mused, tired of the Magi's concern over his safety. Just leave me alone, he wished ardently. Yet, these words returned to haunt him during the long stay in the dark cold cave. A hundred times he opened his mouth to call back the Magi just as a hundred and one times he swallowed the words before they reached his lips.

When his vision adjusted to the poor lighting, Mitra explored the cave, though there was not much to see. The small place resembled a chamber with the cramped tunnel leading in and out of it. High humid stone walls vaulted the space above his head. This cave is enough to drive a person mad, Mitra thought, sitting against a wall, hugging his knees to keep warm. Or perhaps cure him forever, he mused as Vayu's image flashed in front of his eyes. For the remainder of the day, he battled against cold and hunger as his visions left his mind to fill the stone walls with the fair Aryan's profile.

In a drunken stupor, he dozed off between visions, fighting the urge to shout for help whenever he regained consciousness. At one point, he lost contact with his body and he floated on the cave's ceiling, finally free from the cage that had trapped it for so long. Looking down, he laughed at his pitiful figure huddled against the wall, feeling sorry for its very physical pains. Of course, he realized they were just hallucinations that disappeared quickly if he opened his eyes.

But it was getting increasingly harder to open his eyes. His body had turned to an icy pillar, unable to move from its position. He could feel neither his feet nor his hands anymore. His head resting on his knees felt heavier with each passing moment. Very soon, he would not be able to lift it anymore. Breathing became difficult, so he slowed it down. And he floated into a fantasy world that filled his empty stomach.

Exactly what he dreamed about, he could not remember afterward, although the reveries seemed so clear while he lived them. In a way, his cave experience became a trance as no other reality existed beyond his imaginary one. And if at first he woke up between dreams, soon every vision blurred into another without beginning or ending. He would have dreamed forever, life turning into eternal sleep, had there not been a divine intervention.

“My Prince,” a voice tapped in his world, “wake up,” Mitra heard as someone shook his shoulder.

Though hearing the familiar voice, Mitra did not move at first. His dream world seemed infinitely more alluring than any challenging reality he would have to endure.

A louder voice tunneled into his dim awareness. “Wake up,” he heard while another grip shook him harder.

With an effort, Mitra opened his eyes, surprised to find himself still in the cave. His gaze traveled slowly to the far walls before focusing on the figure hovering over him.

“Welcome back, Prince,” the Magi exclaimed. Then he handed him a soft-skin flask. “Here, drink slowly.”

His hands fastened around his knees, Mitra had trouble unlocking them. When he finally took the flask, it slipped from his numb fingers and would have fallen to the ground if the Magi had not caught it. Without saying a word, he handed it to the Prince again. This time he managed to hold it and bring it to his lips. As the cool water washed down his starched throat, he realized just how dry it was. The Magi put a restraining hand on the flask and the Prince lowered it. After a moment, he drank another small sip, continuing until he felt full. When he handed back the flask, the Magi gave him a piece of cheese, instructing him to eat it slowly. Nibbling it, the Prince rested his head against the wall, finally allowing his mind to feel sensations. Completely rigid, every muscle of his body hurt as blood flowed once more, painfully stinging his very sensitive flesh.

“Come, Prince, I'll take you home.” The Magi held out his hand.

Grabbing the steady hold, Mitra rose slowly to his feet. His weak legs gave away, but the Magi was ready to catch him like he had done with the flask. Grateful, Mitra leaned on him for a moment before conjuring his strength back. When he felt ready, he pulled back and, ordering his legs, stood firmly by himself.

With shiny eyes, the Magi stepped back and extended his hand. “I'm proud of you, my Prince, so I want to be the first to welcome the new Raven in our fold.”

The handshake was a powerful symbol in the congregation. Initiates of all levels exchanged it among themselves to signal their affiliation. Since Mitra had never undergone any initiation, he had not had the privilege of shaking anyone's hand. Now he grasped the Magi's hand, feeling he had earned every right to this symbolic gesture.

“I must admit I was wrong,” the Magi continued, squeezing Mitra's hand tightly. “I didn't think you'd make it. The mastery of the mind over the body is a long and difficult journey, which not many can undertake. But now, you've taken the first step.” The Magi looked at Mitra's proud expression, particularly enhanced by the extreme pallor. “But now, it's time to go home and rest.”

Without another word, they crawled out of the cave and returned to the Palace.

* * * *

Returning to normal life was harder than Mitra thought. The harsh sunlight blinded him more than he cared to admit, but he suffered silently on the way back to the Palace. But it was the least of his problems, he realized once he reached his destination. Annoyed with the Palace confusion, he found he could hardly stand the infinitely many noisy people that milled about, apparently without a purpose. Until then, he had not seen just how crowded his space was outside ... or how lonely inside.

This new awareness—dawned after only three days’ absence—scared him. Things he had taken for granted suddenly seemed uncommonly vulgar, unneeded and too lavish. If he had to conduct a thorough analysis, he would not have deemed possible such a change in so short a time, but he had no time to dwell on the discrepancies between his older and newer self. Sleep took the better of him for the first few days of his return, a restful affair this time, void of any damaging visions.

When Mitra recovered fully from his experience, the Temple celebrated his successful initiation with a lavish banquet that reunited initiates of all seven levels. Dazzled by lights, attention and people, the Prince stood in front of the altar.

“We welcome he who has chosen to fly away from his old self and become a new being. You're a Raven now. Your wings will take you far into the journey of Truth and Peace. Welcome, brother, among us.” Holding a large cup, the Magi dipped his finger inside and sprinkled Mitra's head with abundant water as a sign of purification. Then he extended his hand and Mitra grabbed it proudly, enjoying the feeling of so many men watching him.

That the cult was only open to men was a matter of fact. Why it did not allow women, the Prince had not thought to ask, happy to have a place away from their bothersome presence. Yet now, for the first time, he wondered why this was so.

“Son, I can't begin to tell you how proud I am,” his father shook his hand, too, after the ritual. “The Magi had his doubts, but I knew you could make it.”

“Oh, father,” Mitra mumbled, not knowing what to say.

“Your sister sends her best, too. She wants you to know she's very proud and can't wait to see you again.”

“Why? Where is she?”

“I asked Vayu to go to Sousa. There have been reports of enemy activities in the area and I want to make sure the situation remains peaceful.”

“And you sent him, father?”

“Do you object?”

Actually, Mitra had not worried about Vayu since exiting the cave. He had not even thought to look for him once he returned. Now the memory came back with a crunching sensation at his stomach.

“He's family, son,” his father said softly, reading his silence in a different way. “I chose him to mate your sister to re-establish peace among our people. But if it has to work, I have to empower him with important tasks, otherwise the mating will remain a hollow deal.”

“I understand, father.” Mitra bent his head, grateful that his major temptation was out of the way.

One thing he had to acknowledge about his Magi's teachings was that his body felt cleaner after the cave ordeal, purer somehow. The water ritual had only marked outside what he already felt inside and the Prince was determined to keep it. Seemingly aware of this change, his father treated him accordingly, soliciting his advice on important state affairs while increasing his responsibilities in specific duties. Mitra enjoyed his new position and people started to look up to him.

Not the debauched young man anymore—though sex still played an important role in his life—he experienced a different kind of love, he realized gazing at a dark sleeping form of which he even remembered the name. Somehow, he felt more aware of his sexual pleasure, giving and receiving like never before. In the past, he had only been on the run to catch another cock, one more fuck to satisfy immediate cravings. Now his body did not push so hard on immediate fulfillment. He rather enjoyed taking his time with a man, feeling his entire body, not just his cock, muscles tense under his expert touch while his mouth tasted bits of flesh.

The prize was still the same, so he wrapped his tongue lavishly around it, savoring the feel of the bulging head craving more space, straining against his cheek, pushing to conquer more territory and get deeper into his throat. He particularly loved to battle against it, his tongue teasingly pushing him out only to suck it deeper. The game could go on for hours, but soon the other man would not stand the tension. With a whimper, he would beg Mitra to take him and fast before he spilled his soul inside the Prince's mouth.

With a grin, Mitra turned him around, caressing the dark hair, his hand running down his back before closing on the firm buttocks. Lately, he had come to enjoy more of the giving rather than the taking deal, so his latest conquests opened up for further exploration. With a finger, the Prince teased the narrow hole, testing its readiness. He liked to feel it squeezing his fingers tightly, almost holding him captive. The man usually moaned, his senses completely on fire, pushing back his ass, asking for something more. Mitra bent down and his tongue continued what his fingers had been doing. First inserting, then pulling back, the rhythmical tease drove the man wild.

“Please,” he begged again, “take me. I can't stand it anymore.”

With a single nudge, Mitra's cock, hard and ready, slipped inside without any difficulty, the ass readily accommodating his long length. For a moment, the Prince stopped to savor the feeling of the flesh wrapped tightly around his own silky skin, their union always extremely pleasurable. By then, the other man usually wanted to rush, so he moved steadily against Mitra's crotch. Carried by the rhythm, the Prince joined in the dance, thrusting harder as their desire burned hotter. Sliding flesh rubbing against each other became irresistible and it was soon over for both of them.

Sometimes, right after collapsing on top of his lover, Mitra's mind ran to Vayu. The situation in Sousa had become tense, his father informed him. Vayu strived for a peaceful settlement, but there was a new Leader threatening Ahura. Cautos had reunited some of the mountain tribes in order to conquer more land for himself. His eyes had fallen on the rich city of Sousa and nothing short of total domination would satisfy him. Ahura had dispatched his Immortals, the legendary Persian army that many feared, giving precise instructions to wait until the situation worsened before striking.

Following these developments, Mitra realized how much his father believed in his religious faith. Other Leaders would have already declared an open war on Cautos, rather than take time evaluating a peaceful settlement. That every life was important, Mitra knew from years of training, but that his father would stand by this principle until the end, could seem foolish to neophytes. Of course, the situation could get out of control or—

“Can I disturb the great Prince for a moment?” a voice interrupted his thoughts.

Mitra blinked, returning to his private quarters. He was in the antechamber, a large room dedicated to meeting people and taking care of important matters. The day had been slow, few people popping in, so he had sat in front of the fire, meditating as the Magi often suggested. Almost a year had passed from his first initiation and it was time to consider moving up to the next level, the Bridegroom, but Mitra still did not feel up to it. Glad for the interruption, he turned around and his heart stopped as he saw who stood at the door, waiting for a formal invitation. Without even thinking, he got up and went to him, arms outstretched.

“Vayu,” he exclaimed, embracing the fair man, “how good to see you again.” Maybe, his body pressed a little bit closer than conventions required, but Vayu did not complain. The Prince inhaled deeply. He had not known his smell before since he had carefully kept away. Now it filled his nostrils, traveling all the way down his throat and lungs. With an effort, he pulled away. “You're back. And how's my sister?”

The green eyes sparkled, the familiar mocking still vibrantly alive. “She's fine, though a bit tired. Things at Sousa were not exactly—”

“Please, sit.” Mitra gestured to the chairs in front of the fire. “Is that why you're back?”

“Your father left the Immortals in charge. He wants to study a new strategy, that's why he called me back. He also wants you to take more charge, so I think we'll have to work closely together in the time to come. As I said, the situation—”

For the first minute, Mitra kept his mind rigidly focused on what Vayu was saying. However, he soon lost any rationality and he began to travel a sensual path that had nothing to do with politics. Heart firmly lodged in his throat, Mitra tried hard to regain his concentration, but his body was too distracted. He also tried—just as unsuccessfully—to ignore the throbbing on his cock at the thought of having Vayu back and even more of working with him. Like a dream come true, he mused ironically, abandoning any pretence.

His mind finally at liberty to fantasize on the wildest schemes, he gazed intently at the handsome man next to him. Upright composure, straight shoulders, face lit by the fire, he seemed more beautiful than Mitra recalled. By the gods, how much I missed him. Even after all this time, Vayu's mere physical presence caused an undeniable physical reaction, which Mitra took pains to conceal. After all the training I've been through, he rationalized, my mind should be much stronger than my body. Theoretically, it could have worked, if Vayu had not shone like a brilliant flame in a room full of darkness. Pictures flashed in Mitra's eyes of the Aryan, his gleaming skin reflecting light from the golden bedspread or—

“Why don't you just do it?” warm breath tickled his ear and his earrings swayed lightly.

Without noticing it, Vayu had left his chair to grab him from behind, his mouth next to the Prince's ear.

“Do what?” Mitra protested, feigning ignorance.

Vayu's hands traveled down Mitra's body, soon closing around the obvious arousal. “Take me,” he breathed huskily, his fingers wrapped tightly around the soft cloth concealing the bulge, sliding it up and down.

Mitra wanted to protest, to stop him, take his hands off ... do anything except sit there and feel pleasure washing over him in consecutive waves. “We shouldn't,” he managed to say weakly at last. “There are other people involved—”

“Insignificant details, at present,” Vayu assured. With his free hand, he turned the Prince's head around and his mouth attacked Mitra's lips.

The Prince did not breathe. He seldom kissed his lovers, not really fond of their reactions. Most men had no taste for kissing anyway, so he had learned to do without the wet preliminary. Passion seldom arose from a kiss. But this time, it was completely different.

Vayu's tongue opened his mouth and ravaged the tender inside, bruising Mitra's soft lips as he pressed harder against him. At first, the Prince did not respond, letting the Aryan take advantage of the situation. As pressure on his cock increased, Mitra fought back, his tongue clashing against Vayu's, fighting the enemy to hold its ground. Their fiery muscles wrapped around one another as if trying to become one, scraping soft cheeks and hard teeth. Mitra opened wider, wanting to swallow Vayu whole, but the Aryan preceded him.

Like a stealthy cat, he came around the chair, kneeling in front of the Prince, his hand working fast to free the next object of his attentions. When the bulging head emerged, Vayu did not give it time to feel the coldness, swallowing it whole.

With a groan of pleasure, Mitra's head flew back while his hand pushed Vayu's head down. The Aryan complied, swallowing more, the thick head lodging closer to his throat than before. His apt tongue worked skillfully on the long stem, traveling from base to top, engulfing the soft skin in a fiery vortex.

Mitra lost all sense of reality as the world slipped away, replaced by his wild fantasies finally coming true. Despite time, training and teachings, his body had never forgotten Vayu, even though he had convinced his mind otherwise. Every wild fantasy he had imagined more than a year before came rushing back, sweeter and more desirable than ever. He recalled how he had wanted to drown in the soft fair skin, imagining his dark cock slamming against the pink ass. All the controls he had achieved so far, melted away like snow under the hottest sun.

“I want you,” he mumbled, pushing deeper into Vayu's mouth as he sucked him down. “Now.”

“Thought you'd never ask,” the Aryan mocked.

With an elegant move, he took off his clothes, remaining naked and beautiful in front of the fire. Now it was Mitra's turn to kneel in front of him and taste the marble cock rising proudly in front of him. Admiring its unlikely color, the Prince closed his fingers around it, the soft skin moving easily within his expert grasp. But he wanted to taste it, have it filling his mouth and pushing to get deeper inside.

Vayu did not say a word as Mitra's tongue first wrapped around the bulging head, then pulled it inside his mouth, but his cock twitched in satisfaction. If at all possible, it became even harder, piercing his cheek as if trying to find an escape route. But they both knew which way it really wanted to go.

Mitra dropped to the carpet as Vayu settled behind him. Licking his fingers, he wetted the tight opening, pushing inside. Mitra moaned as his ass opened wide to allow something bigger to penetrate. Vayu did not waste further time. Holding his buttocks apart, he shoved through, sliding to fill the entire space. He did not stop to feel the flesh closing on him, but kept moving until he was completely inside. Then he pulled back only to thrust forward again, his rhythm already followed by Mitra's swaying body. The further inside Vayu slammed, the harder Mitra responded. Their sliding skins burned as heated waves traveled up their spines until, unable to resist any longer, they both exploded violently in a final rush.

Yet, true satisfaction was a long way ahead for someone who had waited as long as Mitra to have his dream become real. Luckily, he had no time to dwell on the reality issue, lost in rapture during one of his longest nights. After the initial frenzy, they continued to savor each other, slipping inside and out pliant flesh, drowning their cocks in the most exquisite sensations, but taking the easy way out when tension became irresistible. With ardent vigor, they worked through every applicable position found in the Kamasuthra, even the most improbable ones. Sweaty, feverish, tense, they wasted no time for words. Their bodies did all the talking in a seemingly endless conversation that lasted until both collapsed without an ounce of strength or semen left in their bodies.

* * * *

“Why did you wait so long?” Vayu asked. “I didn't want to hurry you, but you gave me no choice. One more of your wistful looks and I would have even considered rape.”

Unwinding on the golden bedspread, they were taking a much needed break from repeated sex. Wild desire raging like an unquenched fire, they had been unable to keep their hands off each other after their first lustful night, having to play over the experience over and over again. Their tireless bodies apparently felt no strain in enduring greater workouts, easily pumping their energy into silky tissues until there were no more fluids left to spare.

Mitra's hand ran on Vayu's straight back. “I ... couldn't, devil.” The label slipped out of his mouth as if he had always known the Aryan by that name. Absent-mindedly, the Prince wondered when he had first thought of it, then shook his head. Wherever it came from, it seemed so ... fitting.

* * * *

The odd nickname echoed as a buried memory in Vayu's head. He wanted to catch it, but it was gone before he could grab it.

* * * *

“I ... feel bad for Artystone,” Mitra continued. “Somehow, I don't think what we're doing is right.”

“Doesn't your religion allow men to have an official mate and several unofficial ones on the sidelines?”

“It does, but—”

“So, what's the difference? I'm not doing anything other mates haven't already done. Women expect us to have more than one interest, so where's the problem?”

“She's my sister, that's the problem,” Mitra retorted coldly.

“I thought you didn't like the category,” Vayu challenged.

Uncomfortable at the turn of the conversation, Mitra shifted position. “As a rule I don't, but Artystone's different.”

“She's a woman just like any other and according to your customs, I can have as many of them as I want.”

“Somehow, I don't feel I quite qualify as a concubine,” Mitra grinned, though he did not feel like laughing inside.

Vayu shrugged. “All right, maybe you're a bit different.” His hand played with Mitra's shriveled cock. “Lucky for you, at present my only interest doesn't come with large breasts or wet holes,” he teased. Then, as if reading the Prince's regret flashing in his eyes, he continued lightly. “Don't worry, Varuna. I think we can work it out.”

Mitra's heart accelerated at what his words implied. The possibility that there might be a future to what had so far been simply a random sequence of perfect nights seemed even more unreal. Unable to contain his joy, he squeezed the Aryan's shoulders. Yet, a part of him held back, already feeling heavy remorse and not only for his sister's sake. True, Vayu had appropriately described women as having to accept betrayal. Still, Mitra could not help feeling guilty whenever he caught Artystone's sad face.

* * * *

Ever since Artystone's return from Sousa, her sparkle had gone, a clear sign that something was not quite right. Maybe she had still to recover from the birth of her baby girl, an event that had left its unequivocal physical marks. Never a slim one, Artystone had become extremely big during pregnancy and much of the weight held on tightly even after.

“Women have so many reasons to look unhappy,” Vayu assured. “You're lucky you keep away from them.”

“Men can do little to improve women's fate, son,” Ahura confirmed. “Better pretend not to notice, so we won't embarrass her by asking idle questions.”

If this thought helped to ease part of the guilt, it was not as successful in dealing with his reproachful conscience. Years of training seemed suddenly worthless if one single touch had made him forget all about them ... and not just temporarily. Oddly enough for a man quickly bored by his lovers, the effects lingered on far more than he could have imagined. If Vayu had been an obsession before, now he tuned into his only feverish concern.

Nothing else mattered, no religious beliefs, no compelling state duties, no other person. All Mitra desired or wanted was to possess the Aryan beauty one more time, to drown inside the sparkling green eyes and forget about the world outside. No amount of guilt or rationalization could stop him as even the mind-controlling-body theory crumbled miserably to pieces, uncovering the truth of his insatiable lust. Blinded by the senses’ magnetic attraction, the Prince surrendered completely to the Aryan's sorcery.

And Vayu took full advantage of the situation, leading the game onward to new passionate heights. Cornering Mitra in dark hallways, the Aryan's hand immediately ran to the already aroused bulge, his hot mouth relentlessly pursuing the forbidden pleasures all too easily found in a willing ass. They spent passionate nights and equally sensual days wrapped around one another, neglecting state affairs or any other duty that required a vertical position. Their unending twists and turns on the golden bedspread kept their muscles tense, alert and full of desire, which began anew the second after they reached fulfillment.

In spite of everything, Mitra plunged into this game, his unquenchable desire for the fair man making it all the easier to slide miserably back to an older self he thought long gone. Luckily, his new self battled strenuously to save him, sending faint messages that echoed like distant voices in the back of his mind. He had enough training to know that taking refuge in his senses was only a technique to stop dangerous cogitations or reproachful consciences. Undoubtedly, physical enchantment worked fine for a long spell, but it had no real power over a trained mind. As Mitra quickly discovered, his initial surrender did not prevent his unconscious request for help to the only person who had the power to grant it. As if looking inside a mirror, the Prince watched horrified at his other self begging the Magi to prepare him for the second initiation.

* * * *

At a loss, the Magi regarded the burning eyes and feverish state, well knowing the situation was different from the Prince's first initiation. Mitra's descent into a personal inferno had not escaped his notice, but his position did not sanction interferences in his disciple's private lives. “I'm not sure you're ready for it,” he said at last, having the same doubts he had before the cave initiation ... if not more.

* * * *

“Magi, please, I know I can do it,” Mitra pleaded desperately.

“My dear Prince, it seems to me your body is slipping away from your mind's control every day more.”

Embarrassed, the Prince lowered his head. “You're right, Magi,” he confessed, “but the new test might set things right again.”

“Mitra, these tests are not a onetime event. Once they're over, you should remember how your mind managed to free itself from the burdening physical chains and use this knowledge every time a dangerous situation arises.”

To be sure, the cave memories had dimmed since Vayu's arrival. How he had managed to survive three days of coldness, hunger and feverish visions, the Prince could not recall now. “I may have forgotten,” he admitted painfully, “but I want to remember it again.”

* * * *

The new ordeal was quite different from the first one. In the Temple's antechamber, Mitra had to sit naked for three days on the bench right next to the huge fireplace. Apparently, a simple assignment until his skin began burning after only one hour exposure. Heat traveled from his arm and leg, up and down his side in a relentless motion that pierced more than just the skin.

“You can move,” the Magi had instructed him, “but you must never leave the bench.”

So, Mitra went to the farthest edge, but soon the scorching heat reached him there, too. Like tiny darts, the flames penetrated the tender flesh, relentlessly drilling burning holes until his entire body seemed enveloped by fire. He shifted position, offering his back to the blaze and the skin broke under the merciless heat waves. As the days slowly dragged on, Mitra lost awareness of his body's needs. Sleep, hunger, thirst all faded away, engulfed by the powerfully vengeful flames that turned his feelings into cinders ... all except for the one he most wanted to burn.

At fixed intervals, an initiate entered the antechamber to check on the fire, piling more wood in case it burned too fast. One look at Mitra's cooking body and he left without adding a word.

At times, the pain was unbearable. “It'll feel just like the burning desire,” the Magi had said, “of the bridegroom before his first mating.” This was the meaning of the trial and none more fitting for Mitra's enflamed lust. Yet, unlike his first ordeal, this one did not make him forget about Vayu. While his tender flesh baked, skin cracking and peeling, he relived all their passionate love scenes, the raging desire to feel him inside, held snugly by his tight ass as he slid inside, then out. With a sinking heart, the Prince realized that no matter how much fire raged outside, the one inside burned a million times more painfully. Seeing a miserable failure in his personal battle against the body's prevarication, he wished the flames would mercifully melt his pitiful life to ashes, ridding him forever of its burdens. Instead, he survived.

* * * *

“You're crazy to submit to these tortures,” Vayu scolded bitterly as he passed the healing lotion on the blistered skin. Wherever he looked, the Aryan saw tiny bubbles bursting with water. Underneath, the defenseless red and raw flesh throbbed relentlessly, sending fresh pain waves to the entire body.

* * * *

For days, Mitra could neither lie down nor wear clothes. His tortured body hardly withstood the air circling on the raw skin and the mere thought of anything brushing against it, even by accident, caused him untellable pains. Now the worst seemed to be over, though it still stung whenever Vayu's hand spread the soothing lotion.

“You don't understand,” Mitra said, trying to ignore the pain.

“What's there to understand, Varuna? You all seem mad to me, including your father. What have you proven with this insane act?”

Mitra sighed deeply. If he had to explain it rationally to someone who did not believe in his faith, it would probably make no sense. “It helps the mind control the body,” he said at last.

“Why do you need your mind to control what lives of material passions? The two travel separate ways and it would be foolish if one controlled the other.”

“You're wrong, devil,” Mitra argued patiently. “We are a combination of soul, mind and body. They seem separate to a neophyte, yet they are one single entity,” he explained, revealing the mystery of the Three joined as One. “The soul's journey is what's really important because it is everlasting, but the mind and body both contribute to its travel.”

“Your Magi is fucking with your head, sweet Prince. They taught me that mind, body and soul are each a part of us and we should explore their potentials, not limit anyone in particular. They define us as human beings,” he pressed harder on the raw skin to mark his point, “made of flesh and blood. If you try to deny that part of yourself, you'd be wasting the essence of life itself.”

“I don't deny it,” Mitra retorted hotly, wincing from the pain. He remained silent for a while. “I just think there has to be something more than immediate material satisfactions. When I'm dead and my soul has to face the final judges, whoever they may be, what will it tell of my life?”

“That you fucked a lot and with increasingly higher satisfaction,” Vayu teased, his hand playing with Mitra's ass.

“Fuck you, devil. Would you give such an answer?”

Vayu bent down to brush his lips against Mitra's, his tongue gently tracing the thin edges. “I'd be proud to give such an answer, knowing who my lover was.”

But Mitra firmly held to his belief of something superior that would one day want a detailed account of his journey on Earth. The ordeal had taught him again how frail the body was, compared to his strong will. And since not even fire had lessened Vayu's powerful attraction, Mitra used other lovers to enforce a cold distance.

It all started with the banquet celebrating the new successful initiation. The Prince looked shiny in his new attire, burnt skin carefully hidden by the ample folds. Again, he had the honor of shaking his hand with the Magi, his father and the many other initiates gathered just for him, but through it all, he was only aware of Vayu's sardonic stare. Wherever he turned the green gaze seemed to follow him steadfastly. In an effort to break the dangerous hold or rather to smite Vayu's confidence, he began courting—quite blatantly to be sure—one of his fellow disciples.

A cute young man—though nothing exceptional—obviously flattered by the Prince's attention, he played along beautifully with Mitra's scheme. The rest of the evening continued in a desperately tense game of hide and seek as both lovers circled around the chamber, each pretending to ignore the other, yet unable to resist the temptation to raise their gaze if they thought the other was not looking.

Using only body language, The Prince made sure Vayu understood exactly who would share his bed that night. At the same time, keeping his attention fixed on his new prey turned out to be an impossible task. Unable to resist, he would eventually steal a glance, inevitably meeting the green gaze staring at him, clutching his heart and stomach in an icy cold grip. Determined to follow through his resolve, Mitra ended the evening just as planned, inaugurating a new round of wild nights. Reverting to his old habits, the Prince seduced a different man every night, planning their sexual mating at the same time Vayu passed by his room and made sure the Aryan saw him.

As before, the bodies meant nothing to Mitra, just willing flesh he used to keep Vayu away. Yet, his extra effort failed to achieve the expected results.. Despite the variety, the Prince craved the exquisite lovemaking, the peaks and the intense passion he reached only with the fair man. All the others felt like expendable pieces of meat, which the more he fucked, the more made him miss Vayu. Nothing comparable in any of these replacements, he sighed miserably, hiding in the Temple and contemplating a bleak future.

* * * *

When he received his father's call, the Prince did not feel surprised. The situation near Sousa had worsened and now an outright war seemed inevitable.

“I want you two to go to the Immortals’ headquarters to inquire firsthand on the latest developments. Apparently, the situation's so tense they can't spare any man for tasks that don't involve fighting.”

“Us two?” Mitra asked dismayed, his gaze running to Vayu seated nearby while his heart beat furiously.

“You're both my sons,” Ahura replied gravely. “These lands will be yours one day, so you need to learn to cooperate together.”

“I'm ready, sir,” Vayu offered, his green eyes challenging Mitra to disagree.

* * * *

“Glad to hear it, Vayu. And you, Mitra?” Ahura's dark eyes searched his son's face. There were still some minor scars left from his ordeal, a second initiation of which he had been extremely proud. Now he waited to see if the trial bore fruits.

* * * *

Mitra cleared his throat. Just when he had come to the conclusion he had to keep away from Vayu, fate pulled them back together against his will. Suddenly tired of all the useless struggles and wasted energy, Mitra hung his head. “Of course, father. It will be an honor to report with Vayu to the Immortals’ Commander.”

“Good, son.” A bright smile lit his face. “You can leave in the morning. Here's what I want you to tell him.”

They spent the rest of the day going over plans, shifting through solutions, offering ideas and stray thoughts. At the end, they had some definite solutions, which they needed to test on the spot.

“I trust you'll be able to choose the right one, once you've established how the situation really is,” Ahura assured the young men. “Anyway, you won't be alone. I've assigned eleven of your fellow initiates to travel with you,” the father said at last before embracing his son. “I think it's a fair number. A larger party may attract too much attention.” He embraced Mitra tightly. “Take care, my son, and I'll see you soon.”

“Did he spoil your plans?” Vayu asked ironically as they walked down the dark and oddly empty hallways that made the Palace seem suspended in time.

“You planned it, didn't you?” Mitra asked suspiciously as they reached his wing.

“Why would I do something stupid like plan a war? And for what?”

“I didn't mean the war. I meant our trip to the Immortals’ command.”

“You're wrong, Varuna. It was your father's idea.”

“I can imagine who put it there.”

Vayu stopped and turned to look coldly at him. “Do you think I need to use your father to get to you?” The icy cold gaze traveled down his body, blatantly removing all the clothing.

“You'll use whatever means it takes,” the Prince replied hotly, getting angry with himself for reacting to Vayu's scrutiny.

With a quick jump, Vayu was on Mitra, pushing him against the wall, clutching tightly his throat. “I'm not a coward like you,” he whispered huskily in his ear, “hiding behind your pitiful lovers just to avoid me.”

“In case you haven't noticed, I'm through with you, devil,” he retorted just as coldly, glancing at the entrance to his quarters. “My lovers only help me—”

“Forget about me,” Vayu finished softly. Angry all of a sudden, he spat, “You're a fool, for wanting to throw away the best thing you'll ever have. I can see just how much you want me, how you've always wanted me. I read it in your eyes the first day I arrived.” With his body, he pressed Mitra closer to the wall. “And you've never stood a chance, Varuna, because you're mine.” Without giving Mitra time to think, his lips attacked the Prince's, tongue pushing forcefully inside to conquer the warm territory.

Mitra pushed back, getting only more aroused in the process. Damn him, he cursed, but it was already too late.

With a satisfied grin, Vayu grasped the Prince's erection. “Well, Varuna, it seems at least your body is happy to have me around again.”

Mitra shoved him away, furious at his reaction. But Vayu did not surrender. With another shove, he pushed him inside his room and they rolled on the carpet, clutching at each other and shedding their clothes in the process. When they reached the bed, neither could tell whether he was angrier or more excited. Surrender seemed the issue, but not just for the night. Mitra was painfully aware that if he gave in once more to his unbearable tension, he would never be free of Vayu. Yet, the problem—if he cared to call it so—was his and had been his alone from the start since the Aryan had never felt the need for his mind to fight against his body.

Guessing at the exact nature of the struggle, Vayu pushed harder, grabbing Mitra behind his shoulders and holding him down on the bed. “Seems like you lose, Varuna,” he breathed huskily, near the ear.

“Let me go,” Mitra muttered angrily as his face pressed in the golden bedspread.

Vayu's hand traveled down his lover's firm buttocks. “And give up this wonderful ass?” Slowly teasing, his fingers played around the edge of the tempting hole, circling on the outside and resisting the plunge.

Anger turned to more excitement as the need to push up became irresistible. But just then, Vayu let him go free, rising from the bed. Surprised, Mitra turned to look at him, his gaze searching his face.

“I'm leaving,” Vayu said curtly. “Tomorrow, I'll tell your father I can't go with you because ... I don't know. I'll think of an excuse.”

Mitra got out of bed as well. “Devil—”

“I don't want to force you, Varuna, and I certainly don't want to go along on a trip you thought I planned. Your body wants me, it's easy to tell, but your mind,” Vayu clutched Mitra's dark head, “it tells you we're doing wrong. I want you, Varuna. I've wanted you since we first met. There's something between us that I can't find with nobody else, but if your mind is against it,” he shook his head sadly, “I certainly lack the weapons to fight it. When I told you about my people's beliefs, about mind, body and soul going their separate ways, I wasn't telling the whole truth.”

“What do you mean, devil?”

“They should travel jointly in peaceful harmony, neither harming nor limiting each other.”

“The divine balance,” Mitra exclaimed, remembering one of the Magi's teaching.

“Yes, a balance. I found it when I met you because you make my mind, body and soul spin so fast they magically melt together into a single shiny entity focused only on you.” He breathed deeply. “That's what happens every time I'm near you. My senses go wild and I can't think, breathe or do anything besides being with you. But it's obvious that I don't cause the same effect on you. Like that night under the stars, I wanted you, but you seemed as distant as one of those stars we were watching. Then something changed and I thought I found a way through to you ... at least until the night of your banquet.”

Vayu smiled coldly. “You were a real bastard that night, pretending a distance that I knew your body didn't feel. But I played along, thinking it was just a temporary set-back, your mind fucking with your body again without you being able to control either.” He sighed. “But I guess I was wrong all along if, even after all we shared, you can pull away as if nothing happened between us.”

“You think it has been easy for me?” Mitra asked softly before pulling Vayu down on the bed with him. Lying on a side, his hand traveled on the Aryan's light features, curving around the sharp chin, then returning to the pointy face. Eyes trapped in their depths, neither talked, their bodies so close they felt the heat burning.

“I've wanted you from the first moment I lay my eyes on you, devil,” Mitra began softly, “but you already know that. That night under the stars, I wanted you so badly,” he shook his head, “but I couldn't. It felt ... wrong. And yet, I think of you night and day, my mind never free from your image.” He sighed. “You're my first thought when I open my eyes in the morning and the last one before I close them to sleep. I took my initiation trials just so I didn't have to think about you, at least for six days.” The Prince smiled wryly. “But it didn't work, not the last time. As I sat on that damned bench roasting my ass off, all I could think was that the fire didn't burn me half as much as your mere touch does.”

“Then why do you fight it?” Vayu asked anguished.

“Because you, devil, are my own personal obsession, but insane passions are never right. They lead you to disaster. Without control, there's no peace, within or without. If I want to strive for something more ... for anything as a matter of fact, I feel I have to give you up. With you, I'll never accomplish anything because all I think about is you.” Bending on Vayu's face, Mitra's mouth closed softly on the half-open lips.

“You can have me and still accomplish whatever you want,” Vayu objected. “You just have to learn balance. Do you think it was easy for me to remain in Sousa almost a year, away from you? Each night, I'd fall asleep thinking of you, of how I'd hold you in my arms as soon as I returned. We have wasted enough time already, Varuna. Don't you think it's time to stop and accept what's between us? It's who we are that has brought us intimately close, so to fight it, would be like disowning our true nature.”

On the last word, the Aryan's gaze traveled down Mitra's body, appraising the slim figure and the tight muscles. For a moment, the Prince felt tempted to let Vayu stay behind rather than go to Sousa with him ... but only for a second.

Before the green eyes had a chance to reach beyond the stomach, Mitra pinned him to the bed, tongue ravishing his mouth, pushing deeper to occupy the entire space, holding Vayu's tongue captive in its own territory. They battled silently for a while, their excitement spinning out of proportion as their hands closed around their thick shafts, moving fast to increase the throbbing sensation.

Not wanting to wait any further, Mitra slipped his arm under Vayu's stomach, flipping him on his stomach. The tight opening gave in easily to Mitra's nudge, making space for the hard length slipping forcefully inside. Their rhythm soon increased to frenzy as Vayu's ass met Mitra's decisive thrusts, their flesh rubbing faster and inflaming the senses until it became too hot to resist further. With a groan of satisfaction, they spilled their souls, then collapsed on the golden bedspread body, mind and soul exhausted.

* * * *

Leaving early in the morning, the party of thirteen headed northeast to Sousa, riding fast to reach their destination sooner rather than later. They stopped only at nights to give the horses the much needed rest, before climbing back on early mornings and speeding away. Luckily, their road was relatively free from enemy activity, so they did not waste any time to search for less traveled routes to reach their destination.

At nights, they slept in tents, two or three sharing the space for expediency's sake Due to their higher rank, Vayu and Mitra inevitably ended up together. In the Prince's mind, this seemed only a fitting consequence to their last heated night at the Palace, especially now that he was finally accepting his feelings. Something about the balance between Spirit and Flesh had struck a familiar though buried chord. Mitra recognized the basic truth of what Vayu had said, particularly its relation to his current predicament. As a result, not only had his feelings changed, but mostly he was not afraid of them anymore. Like a man breaking through a barrier, Mitra discovered he could have Vayu and his mind at the same time. One did not necessarily exclude the other. So, he allowed the full impact of what he felt overtake his senses.

Riding, he often glanced in Vayu's direction, his eyes telling all his mouth could not say. At nights, despite their weariness, they stretched under the stars for hours, counting constellations, following the bright glimmer, wondering together about the universe's infinite possibilities. All preludes, of course, to the most passionate lovemaking they could remember. While everyone was fast asleep, they held on tightly to one another in the cramped space, their lips kissing avidly, filling their mouths and nostrils. Taste, smell and touch all worked to increase the excitement as the night progressed and they moved in their special dance, hard flesh rubbing against compliant openings, racing until unbearable heat engulfed both their bodies with violent recurring waves.

Oddly, neither felt tired during the journey as if the explosive lovemaking had the power to regenerate their energy each night. They were taking a break from reality, Mitra realized once, looking at his beautiful lover riding next to him, his heart so full it felt too heavy for his chest. I wish we could ride forever, he mused, away from the world without ever having to return ... just the two of us.

“Brother, Sousa's in sight,” Ardavan, one of his fellow travelers called out.

With a sigh, Mitra came back to reality. They would stop only the night, to assess the city's situation, before heading to the Immortals’ headquarters. Needing to talk to the primary source of information, Mitra left his companions behind and went with Vayu to the city's ruler.

“My Lord,” the old man bowed at Vayu, “I'm so very glad to see you again.”

“So am I, Babak. Please, allow me to introduce our king's son, Prince Mitra-Varuna.”

The ruler bowed even deeper. “Please, sit.” He gestured at a few chairs scattered around. “Forgive me if I come to the pressing business at hand, but the situation has really worsened since you left, my Lord.” His haggard face and tired eyes told of sleepless nights spent worrying or plotting for survival. “Cautos's army has eluded the Immortals’ trap.” Babak turned to the Prince. “With Lord Vayu and Commander Pirooz we had devised a plan by which the army would surround the enemy and finish them off. Somehow, Cautos came to know of this and took a different route. Now they're fast traveling in Sousa's direction, but the Immortals can't find them anywhere.”

“So, how do you know they're coming here?” the Prince asked.

The ruler shrugged. “Instinct mostly ... and some scout reports. I've asked the few remaining men to take daily patrols of the area, just to be prepared for the worst. Sousa is a rich city and I'm sure Cautos would love to put his paws on it.”

“Why didn't you call here the Immortals?” Mitra asked. “They could defend the city.”

Babak sighed. “Pirooz doesn't agree with me. He thinks Cautos may have moved further east or even south to Herat.”

“All right, we'll talk to Pirooz tomorrow and tell him to send part of the army to defend the city.”

“Thank you, my Prince, that would make me rest easier. Speaking of rest, I'll accommodate you in my own Palace, small as it is, and have a banquet in your honor tonight.”

Mitra held up his hand. “No banquets, please. I just want to be with my traveling companions,” his eyes pierced Vayu's, “to celebrate the end of our journey.”

“That's fine, my Prince. I can still have a meal fit for a king—”

“Nothing elaborate, please. I just want wine, bread and meat. Nothing more will be necessary for my humble offering to the gods.”

* * * *

Babak blinked. “I understand,” he lied, glancing at Vayu. They had told him of Ahura's new religion, but what his son proposed seemed unfitting for a king, to his modest opinion. “All right, if you'd like to follow my servant,” he clapped his hands and a young boy appeared from behind a curtain. “He'll take you to your quarters.” The boy bent on Babak's ear. “Your companions have already been taken care of. You'll find them next to your rooms.”

* * * *

Mitra and Vayu stood. “Thank you, Babak, for your kind hospitality. I'll see you tomorrow, before we go to the Immortals.”

They followed the young boy silently down twisting hallways and narrow passageways. Arriving at two adjoining doors, the servant bowed deeply, then left.

“What's the purpose of the ... frugal meal tonight, Varuna?” Vayu asked annoyed. “We could have had a royal feast instead.”

“Don't you want to give praise to the gods for our safe journey?” Mitra retorted. He moved closer. “I just want to be with the ones I love this last night.”

Vayu paled. “Last?” He took a step back. “What do you mean by last?”

Mitra pressed forward. “I simply meant that we won't sleep together like we did when we reach the army's encampment.” He pulled Vayu close to him, holding him tight against his body. “Just another way to be with you, devil.”

Their lips met and the afternoon flew away.

* * * *

Vayu shifted from his position, feeling hot in the sparsely furnished room as he glanced at the leftovers scattered on the table. Mitra had insisted for a quiet affair and that was what the thirteen men got. Quite unusual, Vayu thought. Perhaps, it's one of their religious customs. Except for him, the other men were all adepts of Ahura's new religion, each at a different initiation level, but all soul brothers. No matter how advanced they were, their common beliefs connected them deeper than a normal relationship between men ... or so he understood. Mitra had tried to explain some of the concepts, but Vayu had stopped him almost immediately.

“You're giving me a headache, Varuna. I don't really need to know since I'll never join. I'd rather do more interesting stuff.” His hand pressing on the Prince's crotch had ended all conversations on the subject. Yet, tonight Vayu felt sorry he had interrupted his lover. Maybe, it would have served to explain the bread breaking or wine sharing.

* * * *

First, the Prince had tasted the wine and passed it around to everyone, asking them to drink from the same cup. Then he had insisted on breaking the freshly baked bread, personally handing a piece to every companion. When it had come to Vayu's turn, their fingers held on to each other maybe a bit longer than was necessary, but no one noticed. The rest of the meal had been more traditional, though the atmosphere was anything but relaxed. An odd tension hung heavily on the congregation, mostly coming from Mitra.

How can he know? Vayu wondered miserably for the tenth time that night. They had hardly spoken two words since their long afternoon of twisting and turning on the bed, so the reaction seemed even more mysterious. Or perhaps, he had heard Vayu's heavy heart throbbing painfully in his throat. Damn him for being so perceptive.

“Brothers,” Mitra called everyone to attention, taking his cup, “I wanted to be alone with you tonight to thank you for the traveling companionship. I hope in life I will always find as reliable companions as you have proved to be.” In saying the last words, the Prince turned to his Aryan lover before raising his cup.

Everyone raised theirs as well and drank. Only Vayu could not move as his heart plunged to his stomach. Again, the signs seemed unmistakable, so perhaps it would be best to come clean finally. Clearing his throat and shifting his feet nervously, Vayu caught the soft brown gaze. “Varuna, I need to talk to you ... in private.”

Just then, raised voices outside interrupted their dinner as Babak slammed the door open.

“My Prince, my scouts have spotted Cautos's army just ten miles from here. They're coming here and we have no way of defending ourselves.”

“Isn't there a way to hold them off for a while?” Mitra enquired. “At least until you can call the Immortals.”

“Well,” the ruler's forehead creased as if he were rapidly checking his territory, “Cautos is coming from the north. He must pass through the Mazandaran Sea, then cut through the Alburz Mountains. To reach Sousa, he has to go through the passageway, a narrow valley between solid stone walls.”

“Can't he go around it?” the Prince asked.

“It would take him too much time. If he's moving tonight, I presume he'll want to attack us by morning, so his only route is through the mountains.”

“Your instinct talking again?” Mitra asked, raising an eyebrow.

The ruler blushed. “Yes, my Prince, I'm afraid it is. But why else would they move late at night if it weren't for speedy action? Cautos will take the fastest route here, the passageway.” He glanced at Vayu. “If you remember, my Lord, one day I took you to see it.”

Vayu nodded. “Up in the north, the passage opens up between the tall mountains with their brilliant snow tops, right?”

“That's exactly the place. Cautos has to go through there before reaching us.”

“All right then, get the city ready for the attack. Close all the women and children in the Palace, the safest place in the city. Put guards at the city gates—”

“I wish we had them, my Prince,” Babak said anguished. “All my able men are with the Immortals or out in the fields scouting.”

“You have my men,” Mitra said, looking around the room. “They'll help you defend Sousa at least until the Immortals get here.”

“And you, my Prince?” the ruler asked confused. “Aren't you going to help us?”

“I'm going to hold them back as much as possible. I'm going to meet Cautos at your mountain passageway.”

“But, brother—” Many men raised their voices in concern.

Mitra held up his hand. “Sousa needs you here. You have to help Babak defend his city.”

“I'll come with you, Varuna,” Vayu exclaimed, surprised his mouth had talked before the mind had the chance to reason.

The Prince looked at him, his eyes searching his face in quiet resignation.

Nervously sustaining the inspection, the Aryan shifted on his feet.

“All right, devil. We'll leave together.” He looked at his brothers. “I trust you'll do your best for Sousa and our king.”

The men nodded gravely. Then they watched him leave, followed by Vayu.

Racing to the mountains, neither uttered a word. Tense for the situation, but even more for something between them, they could not speak. Miles flew by as they hurried to the fatal passageway, hoping to reach it in time to hold off Cautos's troops at least for a while. Neither thought of the risks as life and death hung on the balance whenever destiny called.

Vayu, leading the way, veered westward, remembering the route Babak had shown him a year before. Luckily, it was a full moon night, so he easily picked his way in the darkness.

“Here we are,” he announced when he glimpsed the solid stone wall with the narrow opening in between. “This is the passageway.” He stopped the horse near a tree and climbed down. “Cautos will come through here and we'll easily stop them ... well, at least the first ones.”

Not receiving an answer, he turned around. Mitra stood next to his horse, caressing its glossy mantle.

“Varuna...” Vayu called, moving to him. “Are you all right?”

“And to think I almost believed you, devil,” he said softly to no one in particular.

“What are you talking about, Varuna?”

Mitra looked him over. “And do you know what's really ironic about the whole situation?”

Despite his confusion, Vayu shook his head.

“That now I love you.” The words sounded bittersweet without a trace of feeling. Mitra shook his head. “I've fought so much only to end up where you wanted me.”

“Varuna, what are you talking about?”

Finally shifting his gaze from the horse, Mitra regarded his lover coldly. “Come on, devil. Aren't you tired of playing games?”

Vayu trembled, his legs weakening under the heavy load he had carried for so long. “I—”

* * * *

With two strides, the Prince reached him and placed his hand on his mouth. “You don't need to say anything. I've been the fool. I know it all too well now.” He raised his hand to caress the blondish hair. “The Magi always said that life is an endless trial, but we seldom know for what we're being tested. Spirit against Flesh, the most challenging struggle of all, and I didn't even recognize it,” he scoffed. “I used to think the Magi was paranoid when he told us of the endless trials, but now I know he was right all along.” His hand moved to Vayu's back. “You were my trial from the start, devil.” Mitra's fingers closed on the hard ass, “only I didn't even know it. I fought against you at first, then took your physical essence. But after you told me about the balance, I accepted my feelings because you are the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me.” His hands pushed Vayu closer to him while his tongue traced the contours of his lips. “And the most evil.”

“Varuna, I didn't—”

“Didn't you plan it all from the start? To get me alone and defenseless so you could kill me and inherit my father's lands? Wasn't that your plan?”

* * * *

Shocked at the Prince's insight, Vayu trembled. He had kept the truth hidden for so long that now it tumbled down like heavy drops of rain after a long drought. “Varuna, I didn't want to help them, but I owed it to my family. Then your uncle insisted—”

“My uncle? What does he have to do with this?”

“He planned it all, damn him. He hates your family with a passion. I don't know what your father did to him, but he wants to pay him back with severe interests. Revenge is all he's ever cared about and he'll use any means to get it. When Ahura wanted someone from an Aryan family to mate his daughter, Ahriman chose me because he knew I liked men. He assured my family that if I followed his instructions, they would have half of Ahura's lands. If I didn't...” Vayu shrugged, “well, you probably know how your uncle treats those he considers enemies.”

“So, they pressured you?”

Vayu nodded. “I didn't have any choice, especially when your uncle threatened to destroy my family were I to disobey him.” He sighed. “Ahriman used me as bait. Knowing of your addiction to men, he thought I would easily seduce you.”

“Then you were to kill me.”

“That was his original plan. I also had to kill your father and everything would automatically belong to him.”

“And to your family.”

“Exactly. But things didn't go as planned. You were a more difficult conquest than I expected. The way your uncle had talked, I thought you would have fallen in my bed as soon as you saw me.”

“Believe me, devil,” the Prince said softly, “that was all I wanted to do.”

“Then, sweet Varuna,” it was Vayu's turn to kiss his lover's soft lips, “your power of resistance is far greater than you give yourself credit for. I would have tried other seduction techniques, but Cautos's troops upset every plan. When I came to Sousa, Ahriman instructed me to convince Cautos to switch to his side. He offered him all the northern part of the territory in exchange for his help in dethroning Ahura.”

“If he keeps dividing the land, he'll have nothing for himself.”

“You don't understand, Varuna. He cares nothing for the land. He only wants revenge on your family. He'll rest only when you're all dead.”

Mitra shook his head. “My father has told me countless times how evil my uncle is, but I never really believed him. How can one plot to destroy his own flesh and blood?”

Vayu shrugged. “I don't know, but he does it effortlessly.”

A cool evening breeze brushed their warm bodies and a shiver ran down Mitra's back. Vayu pulled him even closer, their breaths mingling, forming a light warm cloud that bounced on their faces before disappearing into the air.

“I talked to Cautos,” Vayu continued, his hand lightly stroking Mitra's long hair, “and he agreed to march on Hegmataaneh. Sousa wasn't part of the deal.I never planned an attack on this city. True, I told him about the Immortals’ plan, but only to tell him to find another way to Hegmataaneh.”

“So, how were you supposed to kill me?”

* * * *

Vayu dreaded this answer the most. Thoughts, images, memories flashed randomly in his mind as he shifted through their times together. “Never, lover,” he said softly at last. “I ... couldn't do it. I took it as an assignment at first, a well-planned step-by-step on how to conquer you. You had to fall in love with me, of course, for the plan to succeed. I went to work, using my best strategies, but I pushed myself so hard to seduce you that in the end, I fell inside my own trap.” He squeezed Mitra tightly. “Tonight after dinner, I would have told you everything, asking for your forgiveness. I have already written a letter to Ahriman in which I tell him I refuse to pursue his assignment.”

“What about your family?”

Vayu sighed. “I've written them some time ago warning them that their lives would soon be in danger. I begged them to flee Ahriman's territory before it was too late. I told them I was sorry, but couldn't abide with the evil plan, not even for their sake.”

“And they managed to escape?”

“I hope so, though I haven't heard from them since.”

“They were probably more upset to lose their promised land,” the Prince observed wryly.

Vayu shrugged. “Ahura is a good king and if I behave well, my family will have more power, perhaps not as much as Ahriman promised, but it'll have to do.” Vayu pulled back, holding Mitra at arm's length. “But to tell you the truth, I really don't care. From the first moment I saw you, I felt we belonged to each other ... connected by ... oh, I don't know exactly what. It was like I already knew you from somewhere else, another life most probably.”

He sighed. “In my heart, I know we've already shared a destiny made of love and ... betrayal.” He hung his head. “Now I feel I've failed again because rather than learn, I foolishly repeated the same pattern, betraying the one I most love.” The Aryan pulled Mitra closer. “And I love you, sweet Prince, more than life itself, though I found out too late to stop this horrible chain of events I started.” He sighed. “I know I'm not making any sense, but—”

* * * *

“You're making perfect sense,” Mitra assured, the pieces finally falling into place. He had not been surprised when the thought first occurred to him that Vayu was to betray him. Not knowing why, he accepted the fact that the one he loved above no other would eventually kill him. Now Vayu's words had pierced the veil covering his eyes and he saw their pattern clearly—past, present, even future—in all its shiny details. True, they had a previous connection based on intense, passionate, physical love, but it was not enough to fulfill their destiny. To fall into the sense's sweet delights had been no accident. The Prince had to learn about human reality and nothing worked better than filtering its experiences through the senses.

It was the essence of being human that Mitra—and Us-Yri before him—had tried to grasp for so long. Yet, he also had a far greater task to accomplish and mere love alone was not enough. He needed his lover's betrayal in order to become Divinitas. Without it, Mitra could never live forever in people's memory because despite their faith and devotion, they would remember the tale, not the man. And the Word needed the strongest story of all to achieve immortality.

Unmistakable noises traveled on the cool air.

“They're here, devil,” Mitra murmured in Vayu's ear.

“I'm ready for them,” the Aryan assured.

“Oh no, love, you're leaving.”

“What? Varuna, I'm not leaving you alone.”

“You must, devil. You have to stop Ahriman before he finds someone else to carry out his plan. You have to tell Pirooz the route Cautos's troops will take. Then you have to go to my father and warn him against Ahriman. Together, I'm sure you'll find a solution.”

“But I can't leave you, Varuna,” Vayu insisted, holding the Prince's body only more tightly.

“You have to, devil,” Mitra said gently, untying his embrace.

“But—”

“Hush, love. Don't worry, I cannot die and even if my body does, I'll return.”

“But how ... when...”

“Oh, devil, it took me so long, but I finally have it clear in my head. Remember the three days of my trial? They're symbolic to indicate the union of body, mind and soul after death. When the process is complete, the new essence returns to earth for a new journey.”

“Resurrection?” Vayu asked incredulous.

“Something like that,” Mitra agreed. “I told you it was a test and the answer is right here. Thanks to you, I will defeat death once again and return to lead my people on the path of eternal salvation.”

Before Vayu had the chance to reply, Mitra kissed him fiercely, hard lips pressing against the warm mouth, bruising the tender flesh. His tongue pushed inside, ravaging, conquering, enflaming. They pulled closer, struggling to leave the world behind, making the best of their limited time as the sound of thundering hoofs drew closer. Then it was over.

Brusquely, Mitra pushed Vayu away, grabbed his weapons and went inside the narrow passageway, darkness soon hiding his figure from Vayu's sight forever.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Five

The Word returned to the wholeness of Truth, the picture getting clearer with each lifetime. But its journeys were far from over. Human short-lived memory would soon require a new reminder of the ancient tale. So, it returned to men's world, using its alter-ego to fuel passion and betrayal for the story remained essentially the same, though the shapes differed to fit the changing times. And men listened, only because blinded by a magnificent tale.

That was foremost to ensure the myth would last forever and survive time in human's distorted reality, though they would never be fully aware of their own limitations. Solid matter changed perceptions dramatically, obscuring both Truth and Spirit. Or rather, the sense's irrational passion dimmed the logic needed to reach full Awareness.

Still, the Word had learned precious lesson. In life, balance was the key to understand the One and the Many. Yet, the path to reach it did not necessarily require an impossible restraint of the sense's erotic attraction. Opposing Spirit to Flesh had been a powerful way to study and understand their far-reaching influences. But now, it seemed clear the two did not have to compete against one another. Rather, they completed each other, one learning from the other until together they achieved true balance and greater awareness. And only testing this new theory on the human field would give the world the necessary synthesis.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Six

He arrived at the village on a stormy night, a dark figure heavily cloaked with a hood hiding his face. He did not stop, despite the hard rain falling, but some people saw him heading to the forest. The downpour though, made it hard to check on the stranger until the gods finally decided they had enough of gray skies and wetness. They ordered the sun's return and, in a matter of hours, bright light shone on the pools of water, chasing away humidity with a strange heat, quite out of season. Beltane, spring's official beginning, was still weeks away, yet people thought they had plunged straight into summer. Trees blossomed ahead of schedule, their branches already filled with the tiny buds that promised new life. The scorching sun beat down on Dougaling, making the villagers feel the gods had missed some crucial steps in their haste to stop the rain.

At least it quickly dried the wet ground, Maeve thought, heading for the forest, breathing deeply the warm sweet fragrances.

Life was about to renew itself, like every year, so perhaps the worst of winter was finally over. People suffered greatly during the dark times, every family having its share of losses to mourn. This winter, especially, had been a long, cold and lonely affair, Maeve recalled sadly, thinking of her grandmother's death. She knew her soul was free once more, but the thought did not cheer her up. Luckily, their family also had cause for celebration as Mauve's older sister gave birth to a bustling healthy boy. Too bad, grandma didn't have the chance to see him. Still, they had celebrated the birth properly and soon her sister would take an official mate. She has every right, Maeve agreed, particularly since she has proven her fertility. The child was a product of Beltane, so even more sacred, though Halifax challenged his origin.

Thinking of the shiny head made Maeve smile. The village had initially welcomed the young man to its fold, quickly turning against him when they understood his true purpose. He claimed to be a divine envoy, a new Divinitas at that, one who had nothing to do with their age-old gods. He had come to spread his Word to the people, hoping they would listen and embrace the true faith. He promised a better life in the future if they followed the many rules this Divinitas seemed to require of people. Maybe, a bit too many for the Celts’ taste, which was the reason many turned a blind ear to the preacher.

Maeve had listened more than others, intrigued initially by the man himself, so different from the ones she saw around the village. Unlike her people, he had a fair complexion highlighted by a mass of shiny blond hair. His green eyes sparkled feverishly whenever he talked about his Savior—whoever that was—and lit up his delicate features. His body swayed under the weight of his passionate speeches, so he generally held the attention by his physical presence alone. But it was hardly enough to justify a faith requiring temperance, penance and restraint. People loved life too much to embrace strict rules.

Still, Maeve did not think Halifax's message was a complete failure. He spoke of love, a completely new concept as far as religious beliefs went. She would have liked some of her gods to listen to it, thereby stopping the sanguinary battles that had depleted life not only in the village but in the surrounding communities as well. But not all life had been lost. After paying unbearably heavy tolls to the gods’ blood lust, the tribes had finally agreed to a truce. Perhaps, Halifax's new creed could help us deal with the problem in a different way, she thought as she settled in her favorite hiding spot.

Since the rain had stopped falling, she had been going there to spy on the newly arrived stranger. The man had settled in a small hut in the forest, hunting and fishing his main occupations. She had followed him to the river and kept him company, hidden away behind the bushes, as he waited for the rod to catch something. Then she had returned with him, noiselessly threading on the dense underbrush, just out of curiosity. Like Halifax, he intrigued her, though in a different way.

For one thing, the man belonged to her race. Tall, very dark complexion with long black hair, his chiseled features commanded attention. Maeve liked to watch his face, square chin and crooked nose, as it bent over a trap to check if it had caught a prey. She also liked the sight of his muscular frame moving confidently through the forest, a clear indication the man was used to life in the wild.

She saw him put water in a pail hooked to a makeshift fireplace. Then he bent on the wood and after what seemed like an act of magic, started a bright fire. The flames leapt high and off went Maeve's imagination again, her thoughts straying to a world all her own.

Oddly enough, the sight of the dark man made her think of the other stranger at the village. The traits, which made the two men unique, were also the ones that most differentiated them. One was a powerful force of nature, a testimony to physical strength while the other's delicate features seemed more appropriate for the faerie world rather than the human one. In fact, when he spoke vibrantly, Maeve saw an angel in his place as if he turned into pure spirit, the illusion further aided by the shiny hair. Maybe, they just don't have anything in common, she thought puzzled, as she did not quite understand why her mind connected the two strangers. True, they had come one after the other in a seemingly rapid succession. Not used to meeting new people, their arrival had caused a stir ... at least for some people.

Maeve was too curious for her own good, her mother repeated often. She would never find a mate if she hung on her odd habits and especially if she did not learn to control her tongue. Too outspoken, the girl sometimes let her mouth run before the mind weighed her words. Maeve convinced herself she did not care, but the situation was not getting any better and now, her rebellious nature was on the fast track of getting the better of her.

“Hey, girl,” the voice startled her, “would you like hot drink?”

“What?” she said before she realized where she was. Her hideout discovered, she crawled out of her hole, wiping the dirt from her dress. “How did you know I was there?” she asked defiantly, her pride stinging from the humiliation of being caught.

“Oh, that was easy.” He took the water and poured it into two mugs. “You've been spying on me since...” his forehead creased in an effort to remember, “the rain stopped,” he finally recalled.

“But I thought I hid well,” she objected, walking toward his hut.

“Not from me, girl. I'm a trained hunter. I can spot other animals miles away or close in hiding.”

“Then why didn't you do something sooner?” she challenged, sitting next to him.

He handed her a scalding cup. “You were fun to watch, too,” he grinned, picking up his own cup.

She blushed, but did not reply. Cup in hand, she blew on the hot liquid, waiting for it to cool down while studying the man next to her. What she had not noticed before, probably because too far away, were his magnetic eyes. A brown, intense gaze blatantly taunted her. “Is there something funny?” she asked at last, annoyed by his mocking look.

“You are funny,” he replied, “spending entire days just watching me.”

“I'm ... curious.”

“Yeah, I'd say more than curious. Doesn't your mother have tasks for you to do?”

“My mother? How do you know I still live with her?”

His gaze traveled down the length of her slim body, taking in the narrow hips and flat stomach. “You don't look like you have a family of your own,” he commented at last.

Offended, she sat straighter. “I'm old enough—”

“You have no children,” he shut her up.

Flustered, she blazed a pair of dark green eyes on his mocking features. “Only because the Goddess hasn't seen fit to—”

“But you'll try at Beltane again, right?”

“Of course, I will.”

“If She hasn't blessed you so far, I doubt She will on this next occasion.” He turned to the fire. “All wasted time anyway,” he muttered to himself.

She looked at him suspiciously. “Don't you believe the Goddess will come at Beltane? Who are you anyway and why are you here?” Before he could answer, she thought of a new possibility. “Are you friends with Halifax? Have you come to preach his message, too?”

“Hey, girl, wait a minute. You don't even give me time to answer one question, much less three or four in a row.”

“All right then, let's start with the first one, about the Goddess.”

“Of course, I believe in the Goddess. She's part of the One, neither male nor female. She represents life's creative energy.” With a shrug, he remembered what his dear friend, Brighit, used to say about Her. Even if She has many names, the Goddess is One and She exists in every woman. But he did not say it. Instead, he gazed at the young woman's bewildered He gazed at her bewildered expression. “But people often misuse Her powers, believing She will fulfill whatever desire takes their fancy. What most don't understand is that the Goddess is the force of Nature, so its laws apply regardless of human desires.”

“Is that why She hasn't given me a child?”

His brown eyes caressed her taut face. “You're still too young,” he said gently. “Your body needs to develop more.”

“But other girls, some even younger, already have a mate.”

“We're not all the same. Besides,” this time the mocking look returned, “I thought you didn't want a normal life.”

“What? Who told you about me?”

“Just a thought,” he lied, thinking of the Word's message, I know everything and everything knows me.

* * * *

Again, she glanced at him suspiciously. Though they had just met, the man seemed to know her and the feeling was unsettling at best. “Are you some kind of Druid priest?” she asked.

“I have studied with the Druids and learned the magic arts.”

“So, you believe in our faith. You're not Halifax's friend.”

“I don't know the name, sorry. Who's he?”

“Well, he's the village—” She stopped, not sure on how to call him. Halifax was not a priest nor did he qualify as a sorcerer. In fact, she had no idea how to call him. “He's ... a sort of envoy who comes from Rome or somewhere even farther away.” The Roman empire, gone for a long time now, was still fresh in the Celts’ oral traditions, although Maeve had no inkling of the geography connected to it.

“He's not from here?” the dark man asked, stirring the fire.

“No, but I couldn't tell you exactly from where he is. He brought a message, a religious message, which not many people like.”

“What sort of message?” he asked interested.

Maeve did not answer immediately. “I'm not really sure,” she said eventually. Listening to Halifax had been fascinating at least until she had glimpsed some deeply disturbing meaning, masked by his sweet, hypnotic voice. It had nothing to do with the worship itself, rather with the strict rules she perceived buried inside its theology. When she had breached the issue with her family, most had thought she was simply crazy. Here goes Maeve and her wild imagination again, they had mocked her. “I didn't understand it much myself,” she lied.

“I'm sure you understood something.”

“And you'd be interested to know?” she challenged.

He nodded.

“I'm not sure ... I mean most people don't give a damn about what I think.” She eyed him defiantly. “Do you really care about what I think?”

“I do,” he answered, sounding truthful.

Searching in his eyes, she read his interest. It felt unusual to have an attentive audience for a change. Her own family did not give her much space to express her opinions, mostly because they did not believe her. “Well, I know it's a message of love.” She stopped, confused whether to go on. As her mother's reminders echoed in her mind, she debated if it were not wiser to stop right there, but his eyes urged her forward. “I mean, our men should listen to it more, rather than blindly kill themselves in useless battles.” She closed her mouth, afraid she had already said too much.

His eyes glittered, making fun of her but she did not feel offended anymore.

“People have stopped listening to Halifax because his religious code is too strict to follow.”

“Is that how you feel, too?”

She shrugged, shifting position. “For me, his religion has implications far beyond its face value. The way it would treat women—” She stopped, unsure whether she really wanted a stranger think her crazy, too. “Anyway,” she resumed changing direction, glad he did not press the previous point, “I think for most people, the problem lies with having one god alone, Divinitas as Halifax calls him. I mean, our gods are many because they represent different powers. How can one god have them all?”

* * * *

“The Spirit is One,” he explained patiently, knowing he had to tread carefully on Truth. Maeve was a simple spirit after all, not yet ready for full revelation.

The Word's message, I became human to teach people that their Spirit is part of the One just as the One is made up of the sum of their Spirits, flashed in his mind before he resumed his analysis.

“We divide the gods for our convenience because it's easier for us to relate to one power at a time, rather than an indefinable One.”

“So, you believe Halifax is right?”

“I'm merely reflecting on what you're saying. I don't know enough of his doctrine to express an opinion.”

Feeling stronger by his open attitude, Maeve continued on a dangerous track. “What I really don't like is the way Halifax talks about women. I mean, he says our place is only inside a family, raising babies and tending the house, always tied to the same man. He believes women shouldn't hold properties, all their goods given to their mates, fathers or brothers. I don't find that right.” Why am I telling this to a complete stranger? half her mind wondered. The other half continued relentlessly. “We have as much right as any man to be independent, to choose the man we want as a mate and especially to have children with. Halifax's religion wants to control women and—”

“Maeve,” a sharp cry rang out in the forest. “Maeve, where are you?”

The young woman scrambled to her feet. “Oops, I promised my mother I would wash clothes at the river, but you distracted me. I gotta go.”

She ran toward the river, before a thought crossed her mind and forced her to retrace her steps. “By the way, I'm Maeve,” she bowed to the dark man.

“Nice to meet you, Maeve. I'm Shaun.”

Smiling brightly, the girl turned and ran away.

* * * *

It did not feel odd to visit Shaun in the following days. Maeve was a free spirit, seldom understood by her family, much less her fellow villagers. To have found someone with whom she could talk open heartedly ... well, it was priceless. She returned several times, accepting his brew and his quiet company, losing herself in their deep conversations.

He did not share much about his life. She still did not know where he came from or what he was doing there. He seldom came to the village, but people did not ignore his presence. Using Maeve's technique, some went to the forest to watch him from a distance before returning home. Soon, Maeve knew they would find enough courage to approach the dark stranger and talk to him, like she had seen Koran do. After spotting the village Leader on more than one occasion in deep conversation with the aloof stranger, she knew other would probably follow.

Only Halifax seemed unaware of the latest commotion, strictly adhering to a policy of non-social intervention.

Maeve sometimes felt sorry for him. He spent most of his time alone, except when preaching. He participated in the community's important events—matings, births, deaths—but could never quite keep his peace. Instead, he would offer his Savior's advice, rather than be quiet and follow the Celts’ rituals. People so far had been polite and suffered through his unwanted advice.

“He doesn't seem to understand that people really don't care about his religion,” she mused aloud, holding the hot cup and gazing deep into Shaun's eyes.

“Talking about Halifax again?” the dark man grinned. “Are you in love with him?”

The sunrays slant indicated the end of another day. Sitting comfortably outside his hut, Shaun and Maeve enjoyed the out of season heat, which persisted despite Beltane's tardiness in marking the official beginning of the hot season.

“In love?” Maeve asked stupidly, not knowing what to say. Perhaps, it was true she had thought about him every once in a while in an ... unconventional way, but since Shaun's appearance, these thoughts had faded in the background. Halifax intrigued her for his foreign look, but if she had to be honest, she much preferred Shaun's darker complexion and powerful muscles. “No ... I mean,” she blushed lightly, “I may have had some interest in him at first, but we never really connected.”

“Will he come to Beltane?”

“If he does, it'll be only to tell us that it's wrong for us to hold it, that we should pray his Savior instead and so on. If I recall correctly, I've never seen him with a woman.”

“Isn't he interested in raising a family?” Shaun's eyes mocked Maeve. It was obvious he really did not care about Halifax, only liked to provoke her temper.

“I don't know,” she snapped, dark green eyes flashing, “and I certainly don't care.”

“All right,” he grinned, “no need to get fussy over it.”

“Aren't you interested in a family, Shaun? I see you here day after day, alone in this big dark cold forest without a woman to keep you warm at night.”

Again his eyes twinkled. “Are you applying for the position?”

Actually, yes. The thought flashed unbidden and she turned dark red. As if reading her mind, his eyes openly laughed at her. “Of course not!” she spat, raising her voice a little more than was necessary. “I was just wondering, that's all.”

“Maybe, I'll find my mate at Beltane.”

Her heart almost leapt out of her breast, wanting desperately to land at Shaun's feet. “Are you going to light one of the sacred fires?”

“I might,” he replied, his voice sounding doubtful.

Please do, she wanted to shout, but managed to hold her tongue.

Lit by experienced Druids, the fires spread on the hills surrounding Dougaling. Lately, the village had found it difficult to find enough sorcerers to light its many hills, so every year they had to cut down on the number of fires. Maeve had mourned the loss of Beltane on her favorite spot, the Raven Hill, a dark green mound where birds loved to dwell.

“Maybe, on the Raven Hill,” he continued softly.

“Really? Is that why you were talking with Koran?” she asked.

His eyes lit up in silent amusement. “Can't keep a secret, not even in the middle of the forest.”

Maeve blushed deeply. “I ... didn't mean to pry. I just saw him here a couple of times, that's all. But I swear—”

He stopped her with a huge grin. “I was just teasing. I know you didn't hear anything. You were too far away.”

“Exactly. Besides, it's not like I'm interested in your business, though if you will light the fire on Raven Hill, I'd be very grateful. No one has since...” she frowned in an effort to remember, “oh, I don't remember, but it's been too long.”

“You like that hill in particular?” Shaun asked.

Maeve nodded vigorously. “I most certainly do. It's one of my favorite spots. It's beautiful, peaceful, full of birds and—” She closed her mouth because words always failed her when she thought of that place. “There's a ... holiness there I haven't felt anywhere else.”

“Holiness?”

“Yes. I don't know if I can explain, but when I'm there, I feel I'm in the gods’ presence. I don't know if it's an appropriate likeness, but I feel them like a cold drizzle that falls drop by tiny drop on my shoulders, then weighs me down. I look around and there's no rain to justify the drizzle, so I know it must be coming from somewhere else.”

He nodded in understanding.

“So, if you're going to light the Beltane fire there, I'll come.”

He shifted his cross-leg position and raised his eyes to the setting sun. “We'll see,” he said noncommittally.

* * * *

The night air was cooler than expected. After weeks of stifling heat, all of a sudden temperatures had dropped to the usual seasonal values. A full moon peaked brightly on the hills to spy on the proceedings. A mass of people had gathered on top of the hills. Maybe too many, Maeve thought, hearing the heavy breathing around her. Actually, they were not as many as on the other two hills. This year, Koran had managed to convince three Druids to be in Dougaling for Beltane, but since not many knew or trusted Shaun, they had preferred the other hills. Their loss for sure, Maeve mused, watching the tall dark man next to the sacred groove.

She knew the ritual by heart and her favorite moment was the fire lighting, the great blaze that for a second reached all the way to the sky. Druids chose the place very carefully so as to burn only a small part of the forest, not wanting to sacrifice precious wildlife for the sake of one ritual. And it was not just one fire. They had to create the illusion of a flaming tunnel for people and even animals to get across in order to purify themselves.

A sheep baaed pitifully behind Maeve, nervously shifting her legs. Animals never liked fires, but their owners would convince them to go through the flaming ring to bless their fertility. That was the ritual's core for animals and humans alike. Couples often disappeared together after passing through the fire, searching for a secluded spot in which to test immediately the blessing's power.

Standing in front of the bright flames, Maeve's senses burned with the fire, her nostrils filled of acrid smoke mixed with wet and decaying vegetation. She saw many heading in the darkness, hands clasped, bodies pressing close. In the past, she had often wished for someone special during Beltane's long night, but none ever proposed.

At first, she had thought it was a matter of physical appearance. Too tall, too thin ... too something, she had reasoned, but her mother and sister's opinion differed. She was too outspoken, they insisted, and men were afraid of her. Some already called her witch behind her back, though she had never given anyone cause to believe in such malicious rumors. Whatever the reason, this Beltane seemed no exception as one man after another disappeared through the fire only to reappear holding a girl's hand.

Maeve ignored them. She focused on the animals’ tragic journey through the ring, shoved by desperate owners. Shaun sometimes helped them, especially when he saw the animal was too terrified to move. She saw his powerful muscles twitching under the strain, face sweaty and long hair blown softly by the cool night wind. Against the flaming light, his body seemed even more attractive than usual, its dark complexion enhanced by the brightness surrounding it like a halo.

And she was not the only appreciating the sight. From a small group of people sitting next to the sacred fire, Maeve saw many women looking in open admiration at Shaun's efforts. Gathered in a circle, the group talked and drank, exchanging comments on the winter just passed and wondering about the summer to come. Caught in their conversation, Maeve lost track of time as people and animals continued their fiery passage, steadily dwindling in numbers, until she alone stood in front of the fire.

“Aren't you going through?” a familiar voice called her. With a couple of strides, Shaun was at her side, his powerful frame covering the enflamed ring, his eyes flashing brightly. “After all you've waited, I think you deserve it,” he teased lightly.

“I thought you didn't believe in the blessing of the Goddess,” she reminded.

He shrugged. “It never hurts to try.”

“As you said, She's probably too busy to worry about little old me.” He looked her over, his eyes appraising her figure like the first time they had met. Despite herself, she blushed violently and took a step back.

“Tonight, She may be bored,” he said huskily, taking a step closer, “and take pity of beautiful girls.”

“If I see one, I'll be sure to tell her,” she quipped, angry at her girlish reaction.

“if you follow me through the fire, I'll help you find one,” he suggested, a malicious twinkle in his dark eyes.

A shiver ran down Maeve's back. Is he actually saying what I think he's saying? she wondered, not daring to believe it. Just then, a bustle behind her shoulders distracted her attention. Tuning around, she caught a glimpse of bright golden hair moving up the hill.

“It's Halifax,” people whispered in the group.

“Looks like you'll finally meet Halifax,” she said, turning to Shaun.

But he was not there anymore. Oh, his imposing frame still stood in front of her, but his mind had fled to another dimension. Eyes glued on the shiny blond head, the dark Druid had forgotten all about Beltane, the night, the fire, the people ... even her. Baffled, Maeve stepped aside so she could watch both men easily.

* * * *

Coming slowly up the hill, the blond man purposefully kept his head lowered as if he knew someone was waiting for him. But he could not ignore the piercing stare for much longer. With his last steps, he raised his head and the dazzling green eyes met the brown ones. Rooted to the ground, neither could breathe as past, present and future came together in flashing images, echoes of other lives, distant times, different places, same stories.

* * * *

Maeve clearly saw the flickers of recognition hit them like a bolt of lightning. The two knew each other far better than Shaun had led on so far. She wondered where they had met before, in what circumstances and what had separated them. One thing seemed perfectly clear to her. They shared lifetimes of experience.

“Where were we?” the deep voice called her back to Beltane and the roaring fire on Raven Hill.

Maeve shook her head confused. “What?” she asked.

“Weren't you trying to get the blessing of the Goddess?”

She raised her eyes. Shaun looked at her intently as if unaffected by all that had just passed. “I thought ... I mean perhaps you want to talk to Halifax?” she asked unsure. She glanced briefly at the other side.

Displaying the same apparent unconcern, the blond man had sat in the circle, accepting a drink of ale, animatedly talking to the woman next to him.

The Druid shrugged. “I have plenty of time for that.” He grabbed her waist. “Beltane however, comes only once a year.”

The sudden physical contact took her breath away. They had never actually touched and to feel him so close was an exquisite pleasure in its own. Her body tingled in pleasurable anticipation as she walked slowly through the fire, flames closing all around her, noises drowning in the wood's crackling, eyes blinded by the brightness. When she reached the other side, he grabbed her hand, pulling her inside a secluded groove.

The moon's bright rays pierced the vegetation to shed some light into the confined space, so tight they could barely stand. Maeve's smaller body was under Shaun's control, his big frame enveloping her completely. She leaned on him, feeling the warmth and the sheer force of his muscles beneath the Druid's cloak. Her hand strayed on the broad chest as she buried her head in it, pressing her soft curves against his straight lines, shivering for the contrast between his hot body and her colder flesh.

He tilted up her head. “Feeling cold, little one?”

She opened her mouth to agree, but he was quicker. His lips flew down on hers, his tongue already in her sweet opening, tasting and conquering territory, while his hands crushed her body against his. She yielded completely, senses ready to surrender to his attack.

He immediately took advantage of the situation. With one hand, he removed her clothes, leaving Maeve naked and shivering in his arms. She pressed even tighter against him, but he brought her down on the soft grass, covering her with his weight. Their mouths had never lost contact, his tongue wrapping around hers, pushing deep to reach her throat. She arched her back, clearly anticipating his next move as she felt the hardening bulge pressing on her crotch. She spread her legs, pushing up her hips, swaying against his cock to invite him inside.

He pulled back from her mouth. “No, little one, I don't want you to repeat another bad experience.”

She stopped surprised. How can he possibly know? she wondered. True, her few sexual experiences had not been anything particularly thrilling, the man always too excited to give her time to prepare for the event. Her first time had been a brutal violation, which had left scars, not only physical, for a long time. Later, talking with her sister, she had discovered men's sex began and ended with forcing an entry, pumping hard for a few minutes, then collapsing exhausted. Women were expendable bystanders, her sister had explained, but if one wanted to keep a man, it was best to give in to their physical lust without asking for much in return.

Maeve had behaved in accordance with men's desire, a passive slave surrendering completely. But Shaun did not accept it. Without saying anything else, his mouth moved to her throat, gently biting the tender skin. He shifted his weight and brought his hand up to close around her breast. The warm touch sent more chills down her body, so Maeve moaned softly caught between pain and pleasure. His thumb and forefinger squeezed her nipple lightly, then began playing with it just as his mouth continued on its sensual descending trail. Licking and nibbling, he reached the other breast and his hot mouth closed on the hard point begging for attention.

Maeve almost screamed as exquisite sensations bolted from her nipples to the rest of her body. As he sucked avidly, she felt her flesh melting in his mouth, his hot tongue creating a flaming vortex that quickly spread to a weird pulsation she had never felt before. The more his tongue teased, the more the throbbing increased, as if an invisible fiery rope connected nipple and clit.

Maeve pushed her head back and raised her hips, this time stating a real desire. But he did not want her to surrender so easily. Still on her nipple, his hand traveled down, passing the flat belly before inserting between her legs. Breath caught in her throat as he gently brushed the soft flesh, dripping with desire. He traced the edges of the throbbing slit, being careful not to push inside. She moved against his hand, trying to rub the sensitive flesh against his fingertips, but he did not let her.

After one final kiss, his mouth abandoned her breast to follow the hand's tantalizing trail. But when it hovered on the brink of the delicious fall, Maeve could hardly stand the tension anymore. She thrashed frantically, forgetting about the cold and the shivers, fully focused only on his wet tongue torturing her body, enflaming her senses with burning desire.

And he was fully conscious of his devastating effect, Maeve realized spotting a satisfied grin creasing his lips just as his arms wrapped around her hips, imprisoning her in a tight embrace that effectively restrained her movements. Then he dipped and time stopped for Maeve. Her muscles tensed as he traced the same path his fingers just had, lapping vigorously the silky flesh, drinking avidly her sticky wetness. Again, he steered clear of the opening, satisfied only to tease it with slow laps at first. Traveling back up, he lightly brushed the hard clit that throbbed furiously. Maeve's muscles tightened even more. Despite his firm hold, she swayed, trying to press her raging flesh against his mouth, hoping for a moment that he would swallow her just so to end the torture. Instead, he drew back. His arms tightened to prevent further movements, but his tongue and fingers continued a slow tease that only made her want him more. When he finally decided to end it, Maeve's flesh burned from head to toe and she had no strength left.

His tongue wrapped soundly around her clit while his fingers pushed inside the wet slit, starting a rhythmic movement. For a moment, she went limp, then her body shattered in a million pieces as wave after wave carried intense pleasure from her hair to the tip of her toes. The succession intensified as more pleasure shot through Maeve's body in rapid throes as she literally shook from the intensity of her reaction.

Shaun's mouth and fingers did not leave their sweet prize until he felt her muscles completely depleted of all energy. Then, and only then, he raised himself and covered her whole length.

“Now you can be mine,” he breathed in her ear.

In a blissful world of her own, Maeve simply nodded, her legs already spread to receive him. He plunged inside effortlessly, his hard length filling her up completely. She moaned. Unlike her other lovers, he did not feel like an intruder, rather a welcome presence. Her legs wrapped around his waist, hips swaying to follow his rhythm. They danced together, slow at first, soon stepping up the level until their skins rubbing burned her, repeatedly shooting fiery rays through her body. And he followed, his own body shaking under the sheer force of his powerful jet. Then he collapsed on her and everything went blank.

* * * *

Beltane was a turning point for more people than one. Halifax had traveled far and wide before reaching Dougaling, his journey starting from the sunlit Mediterranean to end in the rainy cold village. It had not been love for travel that had prompted his trip, rather a search for a peace that continued to escape him.

Ever since childhood, he had felt laden with a heavy load he could not understand. Growing up, he had come to see it as an encumbering guilt weighing on his conscience. Exactly what he should be guilty of, Halifax was not sure, but he could not shake off the annoying feeling that had become a part of him as much as an arm or a leg. He had odd dreams depicting improbable situations where his only assigned task was to betray the leading hero into a horrible death.

Shaken and terrified, Halifax would wake up in a cold sweat, his stomach heavy as lead. And even more upsetting, his cock felt hard as marble every time he dreamed of the dark man as if there were some sexual connection between them that the dream did not explain. In fact, Halifax did not know who the dark man was, what kind of relationship they shared or why he had to betray him. Maybe, it's just a warning, he thought more than once, shaking his head in confusion and wondering why it felt powerfully real ... especially the forbidden attraction.

That he preferred men was a secret between him and his conscience, one which he did not like to share with many. His few sexual experiences had been intense, but not very satisfying from a moral point of view. Perhaps, his guilt stemmed directly from his unnatural inclinations, although it was prior to the discovery of his sexual preferences. Whatever the reason, he lived both sex and dreams very badly.

His mother suggested he turn to religion. The idea appealed to him, mostly because he hoped it would help him understand why the universe had given him such a burden. He plunged fervently into a new universe, but somehow the happy living divinities of the Greek pantheon did not seem qualified to explain—much less understand—his problem. Their nature was guilt-free by design, so they led fun lives, satisfying their Eros with either or both sexes at the same time, hardly bothered by moral codes or proper behavior.

Obviously unfitting his particular needs, Halifax quickly abandoned the merry crowd to seek for something more appropriate. When he discovered his Savior's teachings, a new life began. Finally, his conscience-stricken attitude had a specific purpose in a religion where guilt was the cornerstone of all behavioral models. In addition, it had a strict moral code, which did not tolerate unnatural acts under any circumstance. Prayer and meditation led disciples into purity, while resistance to temptation remained the highest achievement of a belief based on integrity of both body and soul.

Halifax felt at home as if he had found a safe harbor to shelter his painful doubts. He embraced the new philosophy ardently, hoping it would soon dispel his nightly demons. But try as he might, neither fasting, praying nor penance kept them away ... quite the contrary. Alas even his Savior seemed powerless against them, though Halifax never blamed Him for the failure. After all, He certainly had more important things to worry about than trifling dreams, however inconvenient they turned out to be. Like a faithful worshiper, Halifax resisted for a while, until frustrated and anguished, he began traveling the lands. Missionaries they called them, trained disciples who brought the Word to pagans. And he had chosen the farthest place away from his Greek homeland in the sincere of hope of losing his nightmares along the way.

His mother had been desperate. She had not wanted him to join a sect she viewed as dangerous. Their belief in just One Divinitas seemed a limit, not certainly an advantage. Her fault for sure, Halifax reflected, knowing she had grown up with an immense pantheon at her disposal. In vain, her son tried to explain the many virtues of his new faith. All she understood was that it was taking her only son away from his native land and she would probably never see him again. But Halifax did not change his mind. Set in his convictions, he embarked in his long journey to reach a place most gods did not even know existed.

Dougaling welcomed him warmly, like it did any stranger having the fortune, or misfortune, of stumbling into it. Enthusiastic about the reception, Halifax quickly set to work, hoping in a brilliant success, but reaping only failures. Spreading the Word was easy, having disciples quite another. Something about forgiveness, restraint and fidelity did not quite appeal to his new Celtic friends. Much of the Savior's principles clashed with an age-old religion that celebrated life, and especially sex, in all its magnificent forms. The male orientation was also not very popular for they revered the Goddess from which all life came. Women had an important status that his faith tended to diminish—if not downright abolish—in its eagerness to worship only the One True Divinitas.

Still, Halifax continued on his task without feeling discouraged. They had warned him it would not be easy to find acolytes among the infidels, though they had to try anyway because everyone had to be saved, whether they wanted to or not. His only regret was the Celts’ liberal sexual customs, which brought new life to his personal demons. Of course, it had nothing to do with the wistful looks many women sent his way. What bothered him the most was the thick sensuality permeating the village's daily life as if sex waited behind every tree or inside any groove.

Halifax had the distinct impression that just moving in a certain way would attract sexual favors from anyone. The mere thought made his heart stop several times a day as temptation, in the form of twenty-year-old boys, enticed him to sin. And if it were not enough, they also held fertility festivals for the benefit of people's sexual awareness, which only added to his discomfort. A real torture for my poor senses, he thought more than once, praying harder than before, asking more forgiveness for his human frailty.

Thus he resisted, offering his sacrifice to the only Divinitas who could understand him. To be honest, he resisted because ... he had no other choice. But when he saw Shaun standing tall and powerful in front of Beltane's blazing fire, he thought life could not be more unfair.

The Druid looked exactly like the dark man in his dreams, the same one that in spite of the miles he had heaped, still haunted him. His heart plummeted and his stomach caved on it, as he stared at the handsome figure on the hilltop, unable to tear his gaze away. And what he felt was an attraction as old as time itself, nameless and powerful like nothing he had ever felt before in his life. Like a burning heat wave, a flash of pure energy shot from the figure on the hilltop and enveloped Halifax in its heated embrace. His body reacted immediately, recognizing something so familiar it had never forgotten despite time and space. Mostly, he felt his cock stirring into vigorous life.

Embarrassed, Halifax had tried turning his gaze away, but the dark stranger would not let him, compelling his complete attention. They had stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, flashing senseless images linking them to other lives, which Halifax believed long dead. Just as suddenly as the connection had started, it broke off abruptly, throwing Halifax back into his miserable reality. The stranger had disappeared through the fiery ring, leaving him cold and alone once more.

That had been the beginning of hell. His feverish visions attacked him with a vengeful power that kept him tossing and turning all night. The dark stranger always taunted him, challenging him to action, to prove himself worthy of something Halifax did not quite understand. The dreams seemed so real that the missionary was afraid to fall asleep and face the unbearable guilt as night after night he made love before betraying the dark man. The love images were a new touch that did not help his feverish state, but he lived them with a passion he seldom felt in real life.

Halifax saw the huge cock all too well, feeling his intense desire to close his hands first, then his mouth around it. His tongue worked relentlessly to hold him prisoner of the warm cavity, licking from the top to the bottom, tasting the soft skin and feeling the bulging head lodged almost in his throat. I've missed it so much, he mused in the dream as he sucked avidly, letting his lips run all the way to the base before gliding back to the top. His own cock was also vibrantly alive and Halifax felt its imperious call more than once, but he was too busy giving the Druid the attention he deserved. With another long suck, he almost chocked on the dark cock just when his hands wrapped around its thick length and began sliding the skin upward, then downward in an increasing rhythm that drove the Druid wild.

Halifax would have wanted much more from him, but somehow his dream usually ended in his mouth as a powerful jet washed down his throat. When he woke up, he preferred to remember the sticky fluid, rather than the painful betrayal scene. But he's probably not interested, Halifax reasoned, recalling how the Druid had disappeared with a girl by his side. Still, he could not help fantasizing about him, even during his wake time.

* * * *

Shaun was his name, the villagers informed Halifax. Koran, the official Leader of the small community, had taken a particular liking to the man and invited him to visit more often. The Druid did not comply easily, preferring the quiet solitude of his forest retreat. The few occasions he came, Halifax could not tear his eyes off him. To be sure, Shaun's piercing brown eyes also followed him closely and both felt the electric current running through their bodies just as it had during Beltane.

“He's a great Druid, isn't he?” the woman asked Halifax.

Startled by her presence, the missionary immediately averted his eyes. “He doesn't believe in the true faith,” he said piously, trying to hide his obvious interest.

“Is that why you're always watching him whenever he's here?” the woman continued relentlessly. “Are you trying to convert him?”

Forced to give her attention, Halifax turned to look at the woman. She sustained his scrutiny with an amused sparkle, hugging her six-month-old baby close to her petite body.

“My sister, Maeve, tells me he's a nice man.” She smiled brightly. “She ought to know seeing how often she visits him in the forest.”

Now he recognized her. “Your sister has always gotten around a lot, hasn't she, Kabibe?”

The woman laughed, hugging the baby closer. “You can say that, my lord. Maeve was never one to stay indoors. She likes to roam. Mother says she's a free spirit and no man will ever change her.”

“Maybe Divinitas could do the miracle,” he mused.

“If our gods haven't succeeded so far,” Kabibe pointed out with a twinkle in her eyes, “I doubt yours will.”

Halifax shrugged. “Who knows? Your people so far haven't given Divinitas the chance He deserves.”

“Come on, my lord. That's not fair. We've listened to your word, only it doesn't seem to make sense to us.”

He looked intently at the baby whose head turned to follow some of the people passing by them. “Is that what you're going to tell your child when he grows up?”

The woman was silent for a moment. Something of her sister's wild theories rang a sinister bell. “I want my baby to live a good life,” she said at last. “I think the gods, whatever their name is, will look after him.”

“Some gods need more than just a bland faith, Kabibe.”

She squeezed the baby closer. “Perhaps, he'll make up his own mind when he's older.”

“I could help him now,” Halifax offered. “If you bring him to me, we can recommend his soul to Divinitas—”

“That thing about the water? No, my lord, thanks but no thanks. If my baby will want to know your Divinitas, he'll choose for himself when he's older.”

With a curt nod, she turned away, bringing the child with her.

When he turned around, Shaun's tall frame stood next to Koran. The two men seemed engrossed in a private conversation, but Halifax felt the brown eyes on him. A sensual shiver ran down the missionary's back, heating his already feverish state to new degrees. Frustrated at how easily one look could undo years of work, Halifax forced himself to leave the dangerous spot, going back home just to stop his mind from straying into tempting directions. His hut lay on the village opposite end of the forest, in an area thickly covered by pines and firs. Blindly threading his way, the missionary did not notice the shadow that leapt from behind a tree and pinned him to a tall trunk. Startled, he raised his head only to find the deepest brown eyes staring into his.

“We have to talk,” a deep voice told him.

Oddly enough, Halifax felt neither threatened nor surprised to have the powerful dark frame pressing on him. More than anything else, the Druid's warm body distracted him, causing an obvious physical reaction, which for once did not embarrass him. In fact, it gave him enough confidence to hold his head high. “Let's do it now,” he challenged, wanting to end the agonizing torture Shaun had put him through since Beltane.

“Now, devil?”

The label seemed quite inappropriate at first, though it sounded all too familiar ... perhaps in other languages, and its echoes crushed Halifax's residual resistance. A lifetime worth of training suddenly made no sense in the face of an older, almost ancient, commitment. In a flash, he saw himself in another body, seductive rather than seduced, and he understood something had changed drastically.

“So, you see it?” the dark eyes mocked him as his hands slipped down to his crotch.

Flames engulfed Halifax as all he had believed in crumbled to prices in front of the man's magnetic attraction. His body stirred into vibrant life, sending a loud cry of help for all the past restraints. “I'm not sure I do,” he admitted at last, “but I'd like to know—”

“I don't think you're ready for me, devil,” the Druid stopped him, his fingers tracing the obvious erection. “It has taken us countless lifetimes to reach this point and we can't spoil it now.” He grinned. “It's ironic, considering how we've switched sides, but I guess we both have something to learn from it.” He pulled back.

“Where are you going?” the missionary cried, dismayed at the thought of losing what had taken him a lifetime to find.

“Seems obvious I'm leaving, devil. As I said, you're not ready for me.”

He started to move away, but Halifax called him back. “Wait, you're wrong. I'm ready now.”

Shaun grinned. “I have my doubts, devil. You've gone too far in the opposite direction.” He turned again.

“Wait,” Halifax cried again, this time taking a step forward in his direction. “I ... want you,” he admitted painfully at last.

The Druid stopped. “Oh, devil, I want you, too,” he assured, “but you're simply not ready.”

“So, make me ready,” he cried, not sure he understood what Shaun was talking about, but desperate to find out.

Shaun pushed him against the trunk again. “I don't think you'd like my ... training.”

“Try me,” the blond missionary challenged defiantly, starting to get an inkling of what Shaun wanted.

The Druid grinned. “Here?”

Without another word, Halifax slid his back down the tree until his mouth pressed on Shaun's crotch. Through the fabric, he felt his cock stir into life, so he quickly freed it, his mouth watering even before he wrapped it greedily. Just like his dream, the dark cock was huge, long and thick. Halifax's tongue ran over its length, from the bottom all the way to the top until his lips surrounded the bulging head and drew it inside.

Shaun threw back his head and shoved the cock to Halifax's throat. The blond man opened wider, accommodating more than seemed possible, his tongue wrapping around the bulging head to keep it from piercing his cheek. In frenzy, he licked and sucked, using his hands to enforce the rhythm, sliding the soft skin first up, then down. Shaun followed the same tempo as his hips danced in front of Halifax's mouth, thrusting the cock further inside until—like in the dream—a powerful jet flooded the blond man's mouth, almost choking him.

* * * *

Later, Halifax came to view his ... tree experience, as he liked to call it, as the first of his numerous lessons. But it was not easy to accept it at first. His first impulse, once Shaun had left him excited and bewildered among the trees, had been to resort to penance and prayer, following his past habits. This time though, the situation was dramatically different and the old ways did not apply as easily. That they shared a previous history, or even more than one, seemed an incontrovertible truth. That his prior connection required a change of course, seemed equally true. As a result, he could not resist temptation ... not in this life, even if his mind attempted to stop him from veering into unacceptable directions.

For a while, he resisted the urge to see the Druid, allowing his mind to defeat the baser instincts one more time. Yet, after having tasted the bittersweet flavor of a new freedom, he could hardly keep away. Blame the attraction, the sex or the sheer need to touch him, but I have to see him again in spite of embarrassment, guilt or ... whatever. So, like many others before him, Halifax began walking to the forest, running seemingly stupid errands that inevitably took him near Shaun's hut. Not that he ever actually went to the Druid. Oh, he wanted to talk and desperately, too, but probably he was not ready, as Shaun had told him. Or he was simply afraid to learn of the past, the love, the betrayal and all. Either way, he just watched from a distance until the Druid thought he was ready for one more lesson.

* * * *

The summer night was warm, its odorous air wrapping softly around her body. Maeve raised her head. Shaun stood in front of the fire, his brown eyes flashing at her. Having learned to decode his signals, a delicious shiver of anticipation ran down her back. Since the Beltane fires, they had become inseparable lovers, meeting almost every night to renew their intimate bond.

Usually, no one was around at that late hour, but tonight it felt like someone was spying on her. She turned around, trying to determine if it was just her imagination or there was actually someone there, but she saw nothing in the darkness.

“Oh yes, he's watching,” Shaun's voice broke through, confirming her suspicions.

“Who is?” she asked.

He did not answer at first, simply stared in the distance. After a while, his gaze shifted back at her. “I want to play a game...” he began slowly, “if you agree.”

“A game?” Her skin crawled with excitement. “What game?”

He dropped to his knees and pulled her close. “It involves a whole lot of sex,” his hand traveled on her back, curving under her ass, “with someone else.”

“You mean ... not alone?”

He kissed her neck, then bit it gently. “No, but with someone you like a lot.” His hands began to undress her.

For a moment, Maeve felt tempted to refuse. The offer was unique to say the least, but a part of her was afraid the experience would only hurt her. True, with Shaun she had overcome much of her initial obstacles, coming soon to enjoy sex in all its forms and positions. Still, it seemed too daring, rationally speaking. Physically, however ... well, she felt wet at the mere thought.

The Druid grinned. His hand left her ass and reached between her legs where her clothes could not hide the moistness. His fingers rubbed the tender skin forcefully, enflaming a desire that Maeve was trying to control. “No pain, little one,” he promised before pushing her down the soft grass. “Only pleasure.”

Her naked breast gleamed under the fire's brilliant light. He bent on it and sucked it hungrily, his tongue teasing the already hard nipple. She closed her eyes, arching her back, but when she opened them again, Shaun was gone.

* * * *

With a jump, the Druid was on Halifax, hiding behind a tree in front of the hut. “Spying on us, devil?” the deep voice mocked.

The green eyes flashed. “You may find it hard to believe, but I was just passing by.”

Shaun grinned. “You're right, I find it hard to believe, especially since you've been spying ever since—”

“That's because you talked of other lessons,” the blond missionary challenged.

“So, you liked the first one?”

They stood so close that Halifax had no trouble feeling Shaun's body heat or his erection. Actually, the situation excited his senses, too, despite the woman ... or because of her? The Druid had the unsettling power to upset his deep-rooted beliefs, so when he had started playing with his woman, undressing her so Halifax could see her naked curves enhanced by the fire's reflection, the blond man had not been able to leave. Eyes glued to the scene, he had watched him push down Maeve and take her soft breast fully in his mouth. “I did,” Halifax confirmed, “and I would like some more.”

Shaun raised an eyebrow. “Even with a woman?” he asked skeptically.

For a moment, Halifax wondered how the man knew of his sexual inclinations. The blow job in itself was hardly enough to determine one's likes and dislikes, though it could give a fair indication. But when he raised his eyes to protest, something in the mocking brown gaze stopped him.

“Yes, devil,” the Druid confirmed, “you have a history and it's never been with women.”

In a flash, Halifax saw himself in the company of many men, twisting and turning in army camps with a succession of male lovers. He also saw a richly embroidered bed with a dark man, very similar to Shaun, though less powerful in build, again their passionate embrace leaving no doubts about their feelings. Briefly, he also wondered about the betrayal part, but decided not to pursue the issue ... not now anyway. “I want to change,” he said at last, “and learn.”

“Then come,” Shaun said softly, holding out a hand.

When their hands met, Halifax felt the electric current cursing through him in rapid hot waves. Instinctively, he pressed his body against the Druid's, his nostrils inhaling deeply his smell. With his mouth open, he raised his head and Shaun accepted his invitation.

His mouth flew on Halifax's, their lips pressing in a fierce battle as their tongues met and fought silently. Halifax's teeth tried to bite Shaun's tongue, but the Druid shoved hard, the tip of his tongue reaching for the throat. The blond missionary fought back, pushing against the invaders and grazing Shaun's teeth. Their tongues wrapped around one another, holding firmly to keep their positions, but eventually the Druid broke through Halifax's defense and invaded the entire space.

Surrendering to the superior power, Halifax opened his mouth wider to let him sweep the warm opening in a triumphant march. By now, his cock strained painfully against his clothing, its hardness pressing on Shaun's crotch.

The Druid grinned, pulling back. “Maybe,” he said, “you may just be ready.”

“Try me.”

Without another word, Shaun pulled him to the fire.

* * * *

Maeve had not moved, still lying on her back next to the fire, waiting feverishly for Shaun's return. When she saw Halifax trailing behind the Druid, she was not surprised. Life demanded more than his Divinitas offered, so she had known all along that he could not possibly hold to his ritual penance and restraint for much longer. She was not even surprised that he should fall prey to the Druid's magnetism. S he had caught a glimpse of their old, very old, connection, which neither could ignore. Now the game would really become interesting, just as Shaun predicted.

She stretched luxuriously, inviting both men close.

Shaun reached her first. “Our guest is here,” he announced, sitting on his knee.

“Hello, Halifax,” she said softly, raising her back. Her long hair fell around her shoulders, covering part of her breasts.

“You don't seem surprised, little one,” the Druid commented, a malicious gleam in his eyes.

“I know you are connected and it was only a matter of time before—”

* * * *

“How did you know that?” Halifax asked dismayed at the thought someone could know something that still escaped his rational mind.

She shrugged. “I saw it during Beltane. The way you looked at each other was...” she searched for the right word, “unmistakable.”

Halifax turned to Shaun. “Then it's true, not a mind's trick, but something that really happened.”

“Of course, devil, but now's not the time for talk.” He grabbed Maeve's head and kissed her hard.

* * * *

His lips bruised her soft flesh, his tongue filled her mouth completely and Maeve's senses began spinning again. “I'm ready, Master Shaun,” she breathed when he pulled away. “Tell me what you want and I'll do it.”

He grinned, turning to look at Halifax. “Our friend, here, needs some ... coaxing.”

“I'm sure he does, Master, but I'm not sure he wants it from a woman.”

This time, Halifax blushed. “I—”

“Don't worry, my lord,” Maeve assured, “I know you don't like women much.”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, blushing again.

She nodded as her hand reached for his crotch, massaging it lightly over the clothes. She felt it stir, though not as much as would have been expected under the circumstances.

“Maybe, little one, you should be more persuasive,” Shaun suggested, pushing her head in its direction.

Her nimble fingers soon removed the annoying clothing and her mouth closed on the prize underneath. As she had perceived, the cock was only stirring into life, so she easily swallowed it whole. Her tongue caressed the soft flesh. She played with its not quite hard state, edging underneath it, then wrapping it firmly inside the curled tongue. He groaned and she felt it harden. Shaun pushed her head closer and she sucked more passionately, her mouth beginning to be full. To speed up the process, the dark Druid attacked Halifax's lips and everything sped much faster.

Surprisingly long and thick, the blond man's cock suddenly became vibrantly alive, demanding more attention. Maeve promptly obeyed, lapping vigorously the rigid stem from the balls to the bulging head. She opened wider to let more in, but it did not fit entirely. Only the thick head conquered its space, straining at her throat, pushing against her cheeks, slipping on the wet tongue that tried to curl around it.

At the same time, Shaun had left Halifax's side and was busy teasing her ass with slow circles around the exposed narrow opening. He purposefully kept on the outer rim, tracing the edges with wet fingers, but not daring to dip inside. Desire enflamed her and she pushed back to ask for something more. He grinned, then bent and his tongue continued the finger's sweet torture.

Maeve would have moaned, had her mouth been free. Instead, her guest became even more demanding, pushing inside, then out in a steady motion, which did not allow for distractions. She grabbed it steadily, her hands adapting to Halifax's rhythm, sliding the soft skin up and down as her tongue wrapped furiously around the bulging head before receiving it further down her throat. But what Shaun was doing was just too pleasurable to ignore.

His tongue circled the narrow hole, tracing the edges in fast laps that sent scorching shivers up Maeve's back. She thrust back more forcefully until finally he gave in and his tongue broke through the narrow entrance. Her flesh immediately gave way to the hard tip, opening wide to accommodate it, but he pulled away. Disappointed, she shoved her ass to his face, so he pushed back inside, beginning a new exciting game of ins and outs. Her flesh wrapped it tightly each time, sucking it deeper, almost refusing to let go whenever he pulled away. In rapid flickers, his tongue worked harder to increase what was already spinning out of control.

She freed her mouth from Halifax's cock. “Please,” she begged, “take me.”

Shaun raised his head. “Thought you'd never ask, little one.” His cock nudged the entrance, but she could not wait a moment longer. Feeling his pressure, she thrust her ass back and he slipped inside. His long stone-like cock satisfied her at first and Maeve moaned with pleasure. He moved to fill her entirely as her flesh opened wider to accommodate the entire length.

“But you're neglecting our guest,” Shaun scolded, catching Halifax's eyes looking at them. Bending down, he pushed her head on the pink cock wavering in front of her nose.

Feelings jumbled together and she could not determine anymore what she liked more, if the twitching cock pushing to her throat or the one slamming in her ass. To both, she returned thrust after thrust, following their rhythm, her body dancing along wildly.

* * * *

But the Druid wanted more.

With an effort, he pulled away from the warm haven. Grabbing her hair, he held Maeve's head still. “Come, devil, it's time to play seriously,” he informed Halifax, gesturing for him to lie on his back. He took the woman by her shoulders as his hand first closed on her breasts, cupping the round mounds and torturing the hard nipple, then slipped down between her legs. She pushed her back against his chest, her body stretching to offer more skin to his touch. He bit her neck as his fingers brushed the incredibly wet flesh that hid delightful surprises. Maeve moved steadily, pushing down to increase the touch, her skin brushing his hand harder. He knew her well enough to feel her muscles quiver, tensing before the final release, so he stopped.

“Not yet, little one,” he whispered in her ear. “There's still a lot to do.” With both hands, he grabbed her shoulders and raised her, placing her over Halifax's waiting cock. Shaun pulled Maeve down on it, his eyes sharply focused on the bulging head disappearing inside the wet trap.

Halifax gasped at the unexpected pleasure as Maeve adjusted her position, moving to get deeper in while she pushed down, following his step. Shaun watched them for a while before pushing her back on the blond man's chest and exposing her ass. Holding her steady, with a firm shove his cock penetrated inside.

* * * *

For a second, no one moved. Then Maeve resumed her steady beat, pushing down on Halifax and back to Shaun, her hips swinging erotically in the two directions while her flesh closed silkily on both cocks, sucking them deeper. The men moved, too, adjusting to her dance and pushing in coordinated thrusts so as not to cramp the space. Maeve also added a new movement to satisfy her painfully throbbing clit, sliding on Halifax's stomach before pushing back her ass. In frenzy, they increased the tempo, their skins rubbing harder against each other, until a fiery mass engulfed Maeve and shot through her veins, carrying waves of intense pleasure to her brain. She screamed, tensing her muscles to a spasm, before pleasure released them, her quivering body shaking under the sheer force of the inner storm and from the men's continuing movements. But they did not last much longer. With their own groans, both flooded her with hot dense fluid, before collapsing exhausted.

* * * *

Dusk was falling fast. Wandering through the forest, Halifax had lost his sense of timing. Raising his eyes, he noticed the star's bright lights, filtering from the sky, so he stopped. He loved to watch them late at nights, lying on soft grass, his eyes fixed on the immensity above. His mother had insisted he study astronomy and he had tried, but all those complicated notions never lingered in his memory. In any case, he preferred to think of the stars as giant holes through which Divinitas spied on the mortal beings below, on him especially. He liked the idea of someone monitoring his actions, judging him in life rather than in death.

“Stars are fascinating, aren't they?” a deep familiar voice commented.

Halifax lowered his gaze. The lessons had continued throughout the year, each one more fulfilling than the one before. Long, passionate nights in front of dancing flames heightening desires, lusts, cravings, but mostly intense, exquisite pleasure. He drilled and screwed soft wet tissues, the woman's body always opening up for him, whether it was her mouth, ass or pussy. He plunged in the moistness with an ardor he had never been able to display before, maybe because his rigid controls had always blocked it. Nothing comparable had ever happened to him and he still had trouble focusing on this new self, so far away from the self-righteous preacher who had come to Dougaling full of expectations. His descent into a world of sensual satisfaction, rather than a spiritual one, astounded him. How can I have sunk so low? he had wondered sometimes late at nights alone in his hut. Yet, the attraction, the sex, the lust or the combination of all pulled him back to Shaun's forest retreat every night, finding always two warm bodies ready to welcome him.

Perhaps, his only regret was never being alone with the Druid. After their kiss, the powerful man had kept a stern distance, as if he wanted to make sure Halifax focused only on the woman. In a way, the lessons served to teach the missionary a world hitherto unknown, exploring the female body to its fullest, using it for his own pleasure, but also learning how to give it back to someone he still regarded as different from him as the shiny stars in the sky.

Yet, the woman had always been a part of their game, keeping them apart in a way. Or maybe, Shaun's way of playing just did not allow for true intimacy between them. Either way, everything had gone through Maeve and it made Halifax crave the male body only more, especially when he stopped to watch Shaun's rippling muscles contract under the strain of pushing his thick cock inside Maeve's ass. The powerful body thrusting inside and out made Halifax's mouth water and his body melt in sweet longing as he pictured himself receiving the same treatment. Even more frustrating, the Druid usually caught his gaze, the brown eyes mocking his erotic pictures as if he actually read his mind, crushing the blond missionary's hopes.

Still, his sexual pleasure seemed endless and ever growing to reach higher levels, the proper training working miracles, as Shaun had promised. But now, instinct told him the time to talk had finally come. That night, Maeve would be busy with her family in some private celebration. True, it was a sacred night for his faith as well, but something had pulled him to Shaun's hut anyway.

Set against a brilliant fire, the Druid seemed more intent on stirring a pot over the makeshift fireplace than giving him attention. Halifax cleared his throat. As usual, Shaun's mere presence made his heart skip a beat, so in lack of words, he simply nodded.

“And to know them is even more fascinating,” the Druid continued, getting up and moving closer to Halifax. “See there?” He pointed at a bright reddish star low on the horizon. “That's Sirius, the brightest star in the Dog constellation.” With an elegant gesture, he traced the pattern in the sky.

Painfully aware of Shaun's warmth pressing close, Halifax had to remind he was there to talk, Nothing else.

“Next to it,” the Druid continued relentlessly as if unaware of Halifax's discomfort, “to the north-west,” he raised a palm in the sky, fingers closed, aiming it to the right, “is Orion.” His thumb touched Sirius while the little finger pointed at a series of three bright stars, “Also known as the Hunter. Further east,” he moved the palm upward and to the right, “is the Bull constellation.” The Druid shrugged, lowering his hand. “It's just too bad we can't see the Goat constellation. That's where the sun is right now.” He grinned. “I was born under it, so in a way I consider it my own.”

“Mine is—”

“The Scorpion, I know, devil.” He smiled at Halifax's unspoken question, shining in his eyes. “You've always been a Scorpion as far as I can remember.”

“And you can remember—”

Shaun raised a hand. “We'll talk later.” His gaze returned to the stars. “I've always liked studying the sun's travels during the year, especially the connections between his passing through twelve constellations and the consequent change of seasons. Every three shifts, we have different weather, but there's nothing I love more than when he reaches my constellation because winter's about to begin. In fact, the sun just entered my constellation.”

“The birthday of Divinitas,” Halifax mumbled softly, remembering the holy night of his Savior's birth in the Palestinian cave.

Shaun gave him a penetrating look, but did not comment. “And winter's going to come fast this year,” he continued. “You can feel it in the air already.” He looked at Halifax before returning to the fireplace and stirring the pot again. “Would you care for some hot stew, devil?” he asked, already taking two saucers and pouring a scoopful into one of them.

“Thought you'd never ask.” With a quick step, Halifax reached Shaun.

“Here, drink this first,” the Druid handed him a cup. “It's an herbal infusion, which is sure to warm you up.”

How does he know I'm cold? the missionary wondered. “Thanks.” He took the scalding cup and sat besides the fire.

They both contemplated the flames’ sensual dance against the dark sky. Halifax sipped slowly, his tongue burning with desire to speak. He wanted to ask his million questions, learn about their connection, understand the fiery attraction that pulled him lifetime after lifetime to the dark man. Instead, he sat silently, waiting for Shaun to start talking.

As if reading his mind, Shaun turned abruptly to stare straight in his green pools. His brown eyes sought an answer, which apparently he could not find. “Exactly what is it you want to know?” he asked after a long pause.

Gulping down the last of his brew, Halifax gasped for air. Why do you haunt my dreams? Why do you torment me night and day? How are we connected? Why is your face the last thing I see at night and the first in the morning? he wanted to shout. He shook his head and looked deeply into the dancing fire.

They made quite a show, flames leaping high as if they wanted to reach the sky, their colors bright and vibrant in the enfolding darkness. But then, a sudden shift and Halifax saw something completely different. Always a night scene, a light skinned man was holding a darker one against what looked like a castle wall. The lighter man held the other captive, his hand tightly wrapped around an obvious erection. The sense of urgency, craving and repressed desire was unmistakable just as the feeling that the dangerously seductive game could quickly lead to—

Embarrassed, Halifax turned his head. He had never seen either man before in his life, yet the scene felt awfully familiar as if he had actually lived it. In frustration, he turned to Shaun still peering at him, the earlier question burning silently in his eyes. “Who are you?” Halifax finally blurted. “Why are we connected? Who are those men I keep seeing in my dreams and now, even in bright daylight?” His hand traced Shaun's rugged features. “Why is your face so familiar? And what do you want from me?”

“That's a long story.”

* * * *

Shaun grinned. It had taken a long training to remind Halifax who he was and now that it was finally time to explain, it felt odd, maybe because their positions seemed reversed if compared to previous lives. Shifting through past scenarios, Shaun briefly analyzed their timeless relationship, searching for answers. Somehow, Halifax had always been the seducer rather than the seduced. Reversing their roles was a necessary shift, the Druid knew it far too well, but he still had to get used to it.

“Please,” the blond missionary begged, “tell me about it.”

Where to begin? From the ancient walls of Egypt or the Persian Prince's golden bed? From our love ... or the betrayal that followed? Shaun wondered as images kept playing in the fire.

* * * *

Halifax tensed. Another scene appeared in the dancing flames. Again, he saw two men, one dark the other light skinned, but different from the previous ones. This time, they were out in the open, next to a crevice between tall stone walls. A sense of urgency pervaded the scene as the men held on to each other, passionately kissing. Even more perplexed, Halifax turned to Shaun.

“What you see in the fire really happened ... to us ... lifetimes ago,” Shaun explained, reading the blond missionary's bewilderment. “We have always been lovers—”

“But I betrayed you!” Halifax exclaimed, seeing Set closing Us-Yri inside the decorated casket. “How ... what.... was it really us?” He grabbed his head and held it tightly. “I feel so confused.”

“Don't worry, devil. It's the brew. The herbs I gave you are to help you remember what happened so long ago.”

Halifax stared at his empty cup.

“No, I wasn't trying to poison you,” Shaun assured, “simply to jog your memory.”

“I don't understand.”

* * * *

Shaun sighed. The one sure method to remember seemed out of the question at the moment. Needless to say, he had felt the magnetism, too, the minute he had seen the blond missionary walking up Raven hill. But his was a conscious attraction. Quite unlike Halifax, he had been aware that it came from time unmemorable.

Smiling slightly, the Druid remembered the similarities in his lover's various shapes. He particularly liked Halifax's new physical shell, as he had liked Set's and Vayu's before him. And exactly like the past, their bodies craved sexual intimacy above all, despite Halifax's changed attitude. But to have taken advantage of the situation would have been unfair under such circumstances. So, he had waited for awareness to dawn on his lifetime lover, rather than pull him inside his fiery passion. In a way, it would have been too much of a shock for someone who had chosen to devote his life to penance and prayer, though it was not his destiny, never had been.

The Druid had to bring him up to date with his past, even though Halifax had begun seeing pieces of their history from the moment they met. It was the main reason he had started the training, to remind his blond devil of his former selves as only sex could. And he had used Maeve's female energy to lessen their overpowering attraction. It had not been easy for him though, to see the desirable body moving erotically on his woman's yielding flesh, yearning to possess him completely, but keeping a stern distance because it was necessary. In spite of everything, he longed to stray a hand on the trembling body next to him, though the time was not right. “What do you see in the fire?” he asked instead.

Halifax focused on the blazing flames. “I only see two men—”

“The same two?”

“No, they're different, but ... alike in some way. And they—” Blushing violently, he stopped, not knowing how to say it.

“Yes, they're in love,” the Druid confirmed.

“That's impossible,” Halifax contended. “I see that the lighter man always ends up betraying the darker one.”

“That was necessary.”

* * * *

With a sickening feeling in his stomach, Halifax felt all his long-time guilt crashing down on him. “Necessary?” he whimpered. “Why?”

Shaun gazed inside the fire for a long time. “Tell me about Divinitas,” he said softly at last.

“What does He have to do with anything?”

“He's the key to everything, especially us.”

* * * *

In the beginning, men lived much like animals, without true awareness of their infinite potentials. When they began to look at the stars for guidance, they realized that something far bigger existed besides their puny lives. A glimmer of what was their eternal souls shone down from above and they began to grow. But they needed someone to lead the way.

The Word knew It had to show humans the true path. The only way was by coming into their world as one of them.

* * * *

“But a single being couldn't do it alone, devil. Human nature is dual. We are male and female, heart and mind, flesh and spirit, Body and Soul. The key to life is reaching a balance between these two powerful forces, which are simply tangible expressions of two different realms. But man's limited awareness does not allow him to understand this. Instead, he tends to see them as enemies, competing against each other for an illusory control over what is uncontrollable by definition..” He shook his head sadly. “Alas, humans have the bad tendency of using life as a battlefield. More than that, they have the firm conviction that one side must always defeat the other in order to fulfill their destiny. Of course, it is so much easier for men to follow material instincts more than spiritual ones. Divinitas had to show them what was important in life.”

“But Divinitas did not exist until the Savior walked the Earth.”

* * * *

As the times changed, the old legends lost their appeal. The Word knew it had to return time after time to keep the myth alive in order to continue teaching men Its precious lesson.

* * * *

Shaun grinned. “Divinitas has always existed, though He has been called different names throughout time and space. He has also taken many forms and faces, but He's never changed His nature for He is the One.”

“If that were true, why did He need so many changes?”

Shaun shrugged. “Humans are fickle creatures. What they believe the day before is no longer true the day after. They need continuous reminders to keep their faith alive.”

“My Savior is sure to keep their faith. His teachings are unique,” Halifax objected.

“Are you sure, devil?”

“Of course, I am. Why, our Savior—”

“Stole his birth date from an ancient Persian god named Mitra.”

“Never heard of him,” Halifax scoffed. “Besides, He died and came back to life after three days.”

“The Persian god did the same and so did an Egyptian god before him, Us-Yri also known as Osiris. People considered them gods of rebirth for they defeated death after having sacrificed their lives to cleanse humanity of its sins. And they sat in judgment of the dead souls. Unfortunately, after centuries of worship, people didn't believe in them anymore and those ancient gods ceased to be Divinitas.” He gazed at the fire's bright flames for a moment as if searching for inspiration. “Or perhaps those Divinitas didn't appeal to the people anymore ... who knows?” Shaun shrugged. “Either way, He was forgotten, just like Osiris and Mitra before Him.”

Halifax opened his mouth to protest again, then closed it. Something in Shaun's words rang true.

“Humans adored the ancient Divinitas,” the Druid continued, “at least for the first few centuries. The Just think of how powerful they became. When the Romans learned of Mitra, after their conquest of the Persian Empire, not only did they adopt him as a divinity, but also turned him into an invincible Sun god. Sol Invictus they called him, to symbolize its power. Both the Egyptian and the Persian Divinitas had a male oriented religion, where women were not considered worthy disciples.”

“My Savior values women—”

Shaun raised an eyebrow. “As disciples? Can they bring His Word to the farthest reaches of the world like you're doing?”

“Well—”

“Can they act as priests?”

Angry at Shaun's relentless prodding, the missionary spat, “You Celts aren't much better in the way you value your women. I believe only men can become Druid.”

“True, but the women handle the higher mysteries, the ones no man can understand because he's unable to give life.”

“So, our religion will find a way to integrate women in—”

“Only as second class believers. To us, the Goddess is at the top of the hierarchy and men only play to Her greater awareness.”

“Well,” Halifax said uncomfortably, “our Savior's mother is an integral part of our faith.”

Shaun grinned. “Your believers borrowed this as well. Did you know Mitra had a virgin mother, too?”

“You're lying,” the blond missionary spat.

“Absolutely not, devil.”

“Even if you aren't, I highly doubt your Persian god's mother played a central role in the belief.”

“As I said, in religion women were not important back then, but at least men recognized their value.”

“You think we don't?” Halifax challenged.

Shaun's eyes mocked Halifax. “It wasn't my idea to use the mother of Divinitas as a symbol of virginity.”

“So what?”

“If you put a virgin at the top of your female hierarchy, you're denying life itself. Women are the givers of life and the way it's best achieved ... with a few exceptions, of course, is through sex. If you worship a virgin, what kind of message are you giving your women?”

“The pleasure of the flesh should not become a moral value, like it is for you, Celts. Your Beltane festival is quite obscene.”

“Beltane celebrates life and its renewal. Only sex insures our people survival, that's why we need to celebrate it. To forget about our physical origins would be the greatest mistake man could make. If we all acted on your faith's instruction and forgot about the flesh, resisting temptations all the time, how would humans survive?”

“But wasn't Divinitas supposed to remind people about the Spirit?”

* * * *

Yes, that was the lesson from the start, but the Word had not considered the devastating impact of sensual experiences connected with being made of flesh and blood. To overcome it had been the real challenge, the Spirit seemingly weaker against Flesh's imperious needs.

* * * *

“Ha, devil, the torment of the Flesh was completely unexpected. The sweet call,” he eyed Halifax longingly, his gaze caressing the lean body, “of soft silky skin rubbing against each other.” He resisted the urge to let his hand trail on Halifax more than willing body.

* * * *

The blond missionary shivered. He knew exactly what the dark Druid was talking about and he felt tempted to touch Shaun's powerful body, too. His cock stirred to life as images of his latest training flashed randomly in his mind.

* * * *

“It was difficult to overcome especially in Egypt,” Shaun continued, “since there was no prior knowledge. I didn't stand a chance as the Flesh's demands were always much stronger than any of the Spirit's resolves.”

“But in Persia, you didn't give in to temptation ... at least not at first,” Halifax added, his mind filled with images of Mitra's agonizingly sweet surrender.

The Druid grinned as if reading the memory. “True, at first I had a better chance for I knew at least the risks involved. But you, sweet devil, made it so much harder.”

“And again you could not resist,” the missionary grinned back.

“I resisted far better in other lives,” Shaun replied, recalling his stay in India and Palestine, “though they were never temptation-free. Again, they couldn't be.”

“That was the lesson men had to learn.”

Shaun nodded. “Human's dual nature will always pull them in two different directions. Only through Awareness will they learn to mediate between what apparently are opposite drives. I didn't understand it myself until—”

“I betrayed you,” Halifax exclaimed, glimpsing at the Truth for the first time.

The dark head nodded slowly. “It was the only way,” he confirmed.

“Then you needed me to betray you?” the missionary asked, suddenly feeling very hurt.

* * * *

If only humans could learn from the Spirit rather than the Flesh, they would not have wasted so much time. At first, the Word had not thought to use any tricks to gain men's confidence. But It had been wrong. Men were not ready to listen to the Word's message, however essential it proved to be for their lives. Not even embodiment into flesh and blood worked. Humans did not remember a single man, however extraordinary he was. Their mortal memories needed flamboyant stories and sweeping actions to remember Divinities. And what better show than a love betrayed?

* * * *

“Divinitas needed your betrayal, devil,” Shaun explained. “Without it, no myths or legends would have ever lingered.”

“Perhaps, it was necessary the first time. But what about all the other times?”

“Repetition is the key to success. People change, ages pass, but our tale remained impressed through the generations.”

“So, I was just an accessory?” Halifax asked, feeling even more hurt.

* * * *

Flamboyant stories require strong characters and excellent actors, so the Word could not just use anyone. It had to be a part of Itself. To spread a message useful to human's dual nature, the two had to represent man's diverging instincts. If the Word was the Soul—linked to the One, Its opposite had to embody the Flesh—its imperious desires connected to physical reality. Nothing else would have worked to ensure lasting myth and memory of Divinitas.

* * * *

“I loved you, devil, from the first time I lay my eyes on you in every different time and space, even if my destiny was to recognize it only at the bitter hand,” the Druid admitted ruefully, repressing again the urge to touch Halifax's lovely face. “Divinitas had to know the sweetest of human emotions otherwise it could have never related to men. In the Spirit realm, love exists as a collective feeling, not an individual one. Like...” he creased his forehead to search for an adequate paragon, “the sea's current flowing back and forth on the sandy beach, it's ever present and sweeps everything. On Earth, humans use the word love to describe blinding passion, mostly physical, a burning emotion, with peaks and dangerous falls, totally unlike the steady flowing sea current.”

* * * *

A rush of feelings cursed through Halifax. He recognized the emotion connecting him to this incredible man, daring finally to call it by its name. He had failed to acknowledge it before, afraid of the consequences, mostly of the great responsibility it entailed. Maybe, that's the reason I betrayed him in the end. I just couldn't handle the pressure connected with his love, but this rationalization did not make him feel any better. “You didn't love me. You just used me,” the blond missionary retorted coldly.

* * * *

“True.” Shaun sighed deeply. “Ever since the start, we belonged to each other, mind, body and soul inevitably connected on a higher plane than any mere mortal reality. You were the perfect ... no, the only choice to convince humans about the power of the Spirit.”

“Using me as your enemy?” Halifax asked with a pained look on his face, his body now trembling outright.

Unable to resist any longer, Shaun wrapped his arms around the blond missionary. “I had no choice, devil.”

It felt incredibly safe inside the warm embrace, even more considering the Druid's stern distance during the training, never allowing Halifax to have sex with him directly, only through the woman. Now the blond missionary realized how much he really craved the powerful male body. “But ... I loved you like I've never loved anyone before or after.”

“That's why I chose you, devil.” His hand slipped sensually down Halifax's back. “It's always the ones we most love who will have to bear the greatest sacrifice.”

Halifax raised his head, green eyes flashing. “And are we condemned to repeat this scenario forever?”

* * * *

The soft lips were so close to his face, resistance was futile. With a hungry growl, Shaun's mouth closed on Halifax's and took full possession of his yielding cavity. His tongue pushed deep inside, conquering territory. Halifax surrendered immediately, his mouth filled with Shaun's delicious taste as their tongues wrapped around each other, holding tightly. The feel was exquisite as usual, but Shaun made it unique. As the kiss deepened, a thousand memories rushed back, hot sizzling sex made in every corner of the world, senses slaves to the luxurious passions only Shaun, Divinitas or whatever name he chose, was capable of creating.

Now the blond missionary knew the reason for all the guilt. He had not been able to balance between senses and spirit, always giving too much to the physical side of their relationship, never enough to their immaterial bond. And now that he leaned on the spiritual side, Shaun's training had been a ruse to remind his senses about the previous lives—

“Remember, devil, there's always room for change if we want it,” the deep voice breathed in his ear, pulling Halifax back into reality.

The strong hands ran down to Halifax's cock, wrapping surely around the long stem. Not at all surprised to find it as hard as marble, Shaun worked to free it from its annoying clothes. With a groan, the blond missionary helped him, anxious to be completely naked in the dark man's arms. But the Druid wanted him elsewhere.

When his hot mouth closed on the upraised cock, Halifax threw his head back, feeling the sizzling tongue rubbing the sensitive skin, licking the long stem, while the hands slid from the base to the top, Fire erupted as a burning wave shooting up his body. Halifax's cock became even harder, if at all possible, straining against Shaun's cheeks. The blond missionary pushed to get it deeper inside and Shaun opened wider, almost swallowing him completely, his hands never stopping the sensual slide on the burning skin.

On the verge of an explosive release, Halifax stopped moving and held Shaun's head back. “Wait,” he pleaded, “this is too much.”

Shaun grinned. “Want something more?” he asked, not quitting his hand game.

“Yes, I want to feel you ... inside.”

The Druid opened his arms. “I'm all yours.”

Quick to grab the opportunity, the blond missionary bent his head, sliding off the tunic that covered what interested him. Shaun's thick cock was just as hard as Halifax's, its bulging head imperiously requesting to be set free. Halifax obeyed, his hands grabbing the long stem while his mouth plunged over it. After seeing the desirable cock without being able to touch it, except for a short-lived blowjob, it felt exquisitely good to have his mouth filled again to capacity by the throbbing mass of hot muscle, wanting to penetrate down to his throat. Tongue wrapped around the bulging top, Halifax darted its tip under the sensitive skin before covering the entire head, then licking further down. To get to the base, he had to take it out of his mouth, but once he reached the hairy balls, he quickly retraced his path to swallow it once again. He played the game of leave and take several times before his hands took possession of the lower part, segregating the mouth only to the top half. But it felt delicious anyway as Halifax sucked avidly the bursting head down his throat.

This time, it was the Druid's turn to stop him. “I don't think I can take much more of this,” he admitted, his hands already closing on Halifax's ass.

The blond missionary immediately turned his ass to him. The fire blazed at his side, hot stingy arrows burning one half of his body. The sensation had become much too familiar since most of the sensual training had taken place outside Shaun's hut. This time, it felt even more exquisite as it mixed with the intense satisfaction at being finally alone with his heart's desire and the throbbing anticipation of all that was to come.

* * * *

The Druid's nimble fingers worked steadily on Halifax's tight hole, enlarging it with each fulfilling thrust. But Shaun wanted more, so he bent on him. At first, his tongue licked the cleft between the buttocks. Sliding down to the hole, it circled the edges, enflaming an already burning desire. Then he dipped inside the narrow space. He lingered for a moment, then he pulled out before thrusting back in a steady rhythm that drove Halifax crazy. Soon, fingers and tongue alternated to wet him thoroughly. Unable to keep still, the blond man thrust back vigorously, his ass swaying seductively, shiny white under the fire's blazing reflection.

At this further invitation, Shaun did not resist. His cock so hard it almost hurt, he rammed in the tight space, feeling it open altogether to accommodate his long and thick shape. By now, neither could stop even had they wished. Pummeling faster, Shaun's deep thrusts slid all the way to the end of the narrow passageway, pulling back only to shove forward again. Halifax slid along with him, his ass pushing back each time he felt Shaun's push. Halifax's hands followed the same rhythm on his cock, sliding the skin first up, then down in a frantic motion that matched his body's sway. Their flesh burned, intense heat soon spreading to all their limbs as everything exploded inside and their shattered pieces flew to the edges of the galaxies.

* * * *

Spent and exhausted, they lay next to the fire in each other's arms. The hour had grown very late. The stars shone brightly in the moonless sky, their light mixing with the leaping flames.

With a sense of satisfaction, Halifax sighed deeply. Being in Shaun's arms was a prize in itself, more so if he considered all they had to go through to reach this point. He snuggled closer, burying his smaller body in the bigger frame. Will it last this time? he wondered, afraid to speak and spoil the magic.

“What are you worried about, devil?” the Druid inquired, reading into his lover's feelings.

“Noting important, just ... wondering.”

“About us?”

The man's insight surprised Halifax and he merely nodded.

“I think we can rest in this lifetime. Take it easy for a change.”

“Is that why you chose the woman?”

“Maeve? She's essential to us. We've focused only on each other, two men fueling only male energy. If we want to learn about balance, we need the female energy to teach us.”

“More training?” Halifax mused.

“Would it bother you, devil?”

The blond man did not reply immediately. True, women were not his first choice, either in or out of bed. Still, he had enjoyed their long sexual meetings with Maeve, maybe because she accepted their tight bond without any jealousy or competition. Her spirit was pure, her body tantalizing in its curvy way and he imagined it lying next to the fire, her legs spread, mouth wide to receive both of them. “No,” he admitted at last, “I find her strangely ... attractive, for being a woman.”

“I think we have a lot to learn from her, devil. That's why I want to keep her at our side.”

“You mean having sex with her, lover.”

Shaun grinned. “That, too. I personally find her amazingly pliant in bed, her body so ready to surrender and adapt to whatever wild fantasy we might have.”

“And that will teach us balance?” the ironic tone asked.

“Of course, devil. As I said, we've been men too long, our mission requiring a male energy that inevitably unbalanced us.”

“But why don't we have the same mission in this lifetime, too? Don't we have to tell the people about Divinitas like we did in the other lives?”

“What do you think your Savior's mission was all about?”

Awareness hit Halifax hard in the stomach. “You mean, He was the same Divinitas as your Egyptian and Persian gods? He ... too, was part of the plan?”

“Like Mitra and Osiris before him, He was the Word, yes. Don't you call Him like that at times?”

“We do, but—”

“You didn't make the connections with what we were talking before.”

Halifax shook his head. “I guess not,” he admitted slowly. His gaze shifted to the brightly lit sky above, wondering again if He was not on the other side spying on him from one of the millions star-shaped holes. “So, tonight, on Christmas night, we're not just celebrating His birth.”

“No, we're celebrating each and every birth of Divinitas, the first step of what will inevitably bring Him to His death—”

“And resurrection.”

Shaun nodded. “Exactly. That's the mystery of the Three forces joined into One, Life, Death and Rebirth, each in separate days, to symbolize Eternal Life.”

They fell silent for a long spell, contemplating the cycle in the fiery images played by the flickering flames, listening to the soft crackle of burning wood until Halifax felt cold again. Turning on his stomach, his length stretched out luxuriously on Shaun's stomach, he snuggled closer for warmth. “And what about our future?” he asked at last.

Shaun hugged him tight. “We have each other. We have Maeve. We have sex and love. What more could we ask?”

Halifax melted in the Druid's strong arm, safe and secure, as he had never felt before. “After all we've been through, you still drive me crazy.” He kissed the hairy chest. “There were times I hated you during that damn training. I burned with desire to touch and feel you, but you never allowed me to get close enough.”

“If I had, we would only have slipped back to our old habits, devil, instead of changing our ways.”

“Well, it was a hell of a way to push for change.”

Shaun grinned. “Only because you've never accepted women.”

“But I'm doing my best with Maeve. You can't deny it.”

“You're right. I'm amazed at the way you've been behaving.”

“Exactly. So, the question is why the endless struggle when the Flesh always wins?”

“You're wrong, sweet devil. We're moving forward to a new balance, where Spirit and Flesh complete each other.” His hand ran down Halifax's back. “Remember, one shouldn't deny the other because they're equally important. More than that, they complete each other and knowledge can only come from the balanced use of both. That's the lesson Divinitas has always strived to teach men.”

“But how could they listen? Divinitas may be my Savior, but your Egyptian and Persian Empire had far too many gods—”

“There is and has been only One Word, devil, which has taken different shapes and forms throughout time. And that One Word is not a glorified being, a god or Divinitas as you want to call it, but it's something much more important. Humans call it Spirituality, a belief in something superior that transcends mere mortal flesh and raises men above their puny selves. Yet, it's also a physical sensation like Maeve feeling the divine on the Raven Hill in the form of a drizzle weighing on her shoulders. And it's an intellectual challenge to understand the greater mysteries.” He took a deep breath. “Spirituality is everything that connects mind, body and soul into a single balanced unity and that's what men should strive for.”

Halifax stirred his lean naked muscles like a cat. Twisting erotically, he kissed Shaun. “Was it worth it in the end ... Divinitas?” he whispered in the Druid's ear.

Shaun was silent for a moment, his hand lightly tracing Halifax's back. “Of course, it was,” he breathed at last. “If we hadn't chased each other across time and space, loving first, then betraying, the myth of Divinitas would be long dead.”

Halifax shrugged. “I don't think He needed revengeful love stories to spread the Word. As I understand it, His message was far more important than His life or death. A Holy Book would have achieved the same result ... if not even a better one. Someone could have written the Word sooner rather than wait for our Savior to do it.”

Again, Shaun was silent. “If the Word spoke only through a book, Divinitas wouldn't have had the parade of faithful believers who, throughout history, offered sacrifices and praises in order to receive His blessing.”

Halifax raised his head. “So what? A divinity is something that exists in spite of anything or anyone.”

“Oh, no, devil,” Shaun assured. “Without believers, Divinitas does not exist. Like an unlit star, it would have stared blindly on Earth, completely ignored by humans.”

“Then it's true you needed me.”

Shaun caressed his face. “Of course, it is, devil. As I said, I needed you to maintain the myth of Divinitas alive in the hearts and minds of men.”

“But—” He stopped short, a horrible look spreading on his face.

Shaun sighed, reading clearly his mind. “Yes, devil. The sad truth is that Divinitas needs humans more than they will ever need him.”

“Then all our love and ... betrayal was only to satisfy a selfish whim of an egotistical Divinitas.”

* * * *

Shaun shook his head. All the pain, love, hate, betrayal, revenge and burning passion connected together into a charged thunderbolt that flashed between them, piercing their very essence. “No, devil, it was never in vain. He could not confine His message in a mere book because it was too important. He needed to be alive in the hearts and minds of people. Thanks to us, Divinitas lives on today and He will tomorrow, even if He may have to evolve into something else like He did in the past. And if it was just a selfish whim...” the Druid shrugged, “well, He got what He wanted. Hundreds of faithful believers ready to glorify what can only exist because of their worship. But the Word is still sound and that's why Divinitas will live forever.”

[Back to Table of Contents]

About the Author

Born 1965 in Rome Italy, I grew up in Lagos Nigeria then moved to Atlanta GA, to complete my studies. In Rome, I graduated in Political Science and now work in the import/export business.

I have always liked writing and started in the USA by working with Emory University's magazine The Phoenix. Since then, I have been writing and publishing in both Italian and English.

In English I write erotica in various genres, mostly fantasy, sci-fi and paranormal, sometimes trespassing into contemporary. Recently I published by eXtasy Books:

Trespassing All Hallow's Eve, novel—dark fantasy, paranormal, adventure, gay/lesbian, Halloween.

Hunted, short story in eXtasy's Anthology Sanguinary Seductions.

The Moon Priestess, short story in eXtasy's Anthology Atlantis Allure.

Coming soon: Virtus, Divine Blood.

Visit www.extasybooks.com for information on additional titles by this and other authors.