“Up you go,” Kharisi said, placing a hand on his butt to give the boy the assist he needed. Jeremiah mounted the horse with no effort, grabbed the reins, and patted his horse's neck. Kharisi got back on his, and they rode out, keeping a careful eye out for any guards. Neither could help but look at the destruction of the town and as they approached the main road that led into the castle, they were sickened by what they saw. Head after head was on pikes leading into the castle. Not a couple, not few-but dozens. Jeremiah turned away unable to bear the scene, especially as he recognized them, many of whom he’d had intimate knowledge of at one time or another.
“What is he doing?” Kharisi wondered out loud.
“I know them, or most of them.”
Kharisi looked around and saw nothing and no one. All he could see were the flames, dead bodies littering the streets, and the distant sounds of agonized screams. Yet, there was not one guard. “Come, let’s get out of here while we can,” he said, and Jeremiah didn’t have to be told twice. They rode away at a fast gallop, putting the town and castle out of mind as much as possible. It was only when they’d been riding hard for an hour, and saw a small stream, that they stopped to let their horses drink.
“There may not be anything left to save when we return,” Jeremiah said, voice trembling, eyes on the verge of tears.
Kharisi made himself comfortable on a stump and talked with Saerus internally. “What do you make of it?”
Saerus said nothing, the shock of what he’d seen still freezing every ounce of his no longer existing marrow. For the entire time they were riding away he tried to peek into the imposter’s mind with no luck. All he could see was a literal brick wall that Saerus could not get around, over or through. It went as high as he could see when looking up and went on forever over the horizon. Peeking into Kharisi’s mind was a picnic in comparison, even when he had his own defenses up. And yet though he could not see in his twin’s mind, he could get a sense of what was happening from the people in the town; the ones who were not running, cowering, and hiding themselves or protecting loved ones. That more than anything is what scared him. A once fierce people beaten into submission the way no other nation had ever been able to do in their long and storied history.
“He’s gone mad, rounding up those who he thinks are disloyal and having them killed on the spot. Even guards are turning on one another.”
Kharisi closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, feeling disheartened more than he ever thought possible.
“There’s more,” Saerus said softly.
Kharisi heaved a weary sigh. “Isn’t there always?”
“He’s also killing those he deems as deviants. Your friends and mine, those of who...”
“I get the picture.”
“They’re being beheaded, their skulls thrust on pikes in the courtyard.”
“My men, doing this charlatan’s bidding,” Kharisi spat, contempt oozing like poison from his lips. “I’ll have all of them in the dungeon, rods of molten iron shoved in their piss holes!”
Jeremiah grabbed his crotch in defense at the thought.
“Kharisi, please...” Saerus said, sounding and feeling nauseous at the thought, and having to see it in his lover’s head. “That won’t solve anything, besides given how most were not above a bit of sword swallowing themselves, there may not be any left.”
“We need to hurry, I only hope Da’Nel is as powerful as we hope he is.”
“He’s powerful enough to imprison a dragon,” Jeremiah said.
“What do you mean? How do you know it was him?” Kharisi asked, truly curious.
“Well, pretty simple, just assumed you figured it the way I did.”
“Which is how?” Kharisi asked again trying not to lose his temper.
“The way it reacted when you mentioned the name, and how he gave you that message for him. It’s how he said that which made me think it was this man you’re looking for who did it.”
Kharisi rolled his eyes, not at Jeremiah, but at his own stupidity. Of course! He thought, how could I be so blind?
“Very easily,” Saerus said, quite bemused.
“A man who can imprison a dragon for that long and that far away...”
Saerus finished the thought for him. “Could be an even greater danger than what we have at the moment.” Kharisi jumped up startling Jeremiah and ran to his horse who was drinking from the stream alongside his companion. Jeremiah sat frozen for a moment unsure what was happening then got to his feet and mounted his own steed.
“Do you think Todrick knows about the dragon?”
“Unsure Jeremiah, for all I know this could simply be his way of getting revenge. Mages are nothing if not temperamental.”
“Tell me about it,” Jeremiah said lost in the thought of a memory he had of a particular wizard who would substitute his phallus-shaped wand for his own actual prick. He’d not been able to sit for a week afterward and was a month before he could be taken again without bleeding. As Jeremiah relived that night, the pain of insertion, the roughness of the wood, the splinters he found in his balls afterward, made him realize how different Kharisi was from the others who treated him as merely a sex toy. Saerus as well for the limited amount of time they had gotten to know one another in intimate matters. Saerus enjoyed his company as Jeremiah was the only person who didn’t view him as a freak, something to be feared, or pitied; to be shunned and not understood. He knew those feelings all too well. He often wondered what it would be like to be endowed with the same appendages as Saerus. It was obvious Kharisi felt the same, judging from his relationship with the King,
“Kharisi,” Jeremiah called out, shocked he did so, and wondering what he was going to say. Kharisi slowed his horse and walked his alongside Jeremiah’s. He lifted his eyebrows as if to say, “What now?”
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For?” he asked with genuine confusion.
“Aside from Saerus, you have been the only person who’s treated me with kindness. Someone in my position is lucky to not get beat more than twice a day, let alone be treated like an equal.
“When I was in the throne room with the fake King, and he was hurting me, torturing me, it was my thoughts of you and Saerus that gave me strength. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of you, I guess is what I’m saying.”
Once more Kharisi was caught off guard again by emotions and felt his throat constrict a bit. Feeling choked up, he coughed into a fist, doing his best to keep his watery eyes from view. “There’s never been a reason to treat you any other way.” He said, grasping for, and failing to find the right words.
“Please tell Saerus the same thing, if he hasn’t heard, I have no idea how what you two are doing works.”
Kharisi feigned offense. “And Saerus too? Here I thought I was special. Now you’ve made me lose my emotional erection.” This made Jeremiah laugh, and that caused Kharisi to smile. Both continued their riding in a silent cloud of warmth and friendship.
As they neared their destination, Saerus shouted “Stop!” so loud, Kharisi nearly fell off his horse. Jeremiah jerked hard on his reins, causing his horse to try to throw him off.
“What was that for?” Kharisi said, face red, veins standing out like a road map on his neck.
“There’s something lurking in the grass, Wilderen, I believe.”
“Shit,” Kharisi said. “That’s the last thing we need. We can outrun them though.”
“They move faster than the wind, they’d catch up with you, just keep riding, as if you are unaware of them.”
Kharisi frowned. “And if they attack?” All the joy and light-heartedness, not that there had been much, had been sapped out of him. If there really were Wilderen about, they’d make short work of them all, horses included. Individually or in small groups of three or four, they were easily handled, but they never traveled in anything less than a pack, creating big clouds of dust to hide their numbers when they did.
“What’s going on Kharisi? Yo
u nearly got me trampled under my own horse.”
“You may wish for that before too long.”
Jeremiah frowned. “What fucking now?” his exasperation was palpable. The boy had been through a lot and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.
Kharisi held up one finger to silence him as he listened to what Saerus suggested.
“You trust me, don’t you?” Saerus asked.
“I wouldn’t leave you alone with farm animals, but other than that, of course.”
“You should talk,” Saerus said. “Allow me full control of your body, the only way to escape is with a bit of magic.”
“I only know a little, and not enough to do more than light my own farts.”
Saerus ignored the crudeness as he had his entire life when it came to Kharisi. It was one of the things he detested and loved about him. “I know a fair bit. Todrick taught me some the summer you came to my bed the first time.”
“To keep me away no doubt.”
Saerus didn’t respond, and the silence was all Kharisi needed to know the truth of his answer. Not that it mattered now, time had a way of making fools of even the wisest of Wizards.
“I’d rather not do it by force if I can avoid it, but it will need to be done.”
“Fine,” Kharisi said relenting in a fight he knew he’d lose, anyway. He motioned for Jeremiah to move up next to him. “Saerus is going to possess me, don’t be alarmed at whatever happens, understand?” Jeremiah nodded, though he was confused more than anything. “And don’t let him fuck the horses.”
“I won't... wait, what was that last part?”
“Never mind, but we ride side by side for now.”
Kharisi could picture Saerus tapping his foot, in that angry housewife way when their husband spent the night out. “Ready?”
Kharisi nodded his assent. His head then dropped down as if he’d fallen asleep, and a moment later, he snapped to it, looking around, and then smiling at Jeremiah. He raised his right hand and waved it in a circle above their heads, and a thin almost invisible dome appeared to surround them.
“This will protect the horses too. Don’t want one falling on you because it took an arrow in its bits,” Kharisi said, though Saerus’ voice came out.
“How do you do that?” Jeremiah asked, equal parts terrified and fascinated, in the way anyone would feel if they saw their mother in her bed-chamber pleasuring herself.
Saerus shrugged for Kharisi. “Don’t know, just can and that’s enough for me. One of the biggest things I’ve learned from my mother’s death is that not everything happens for a reason, and not everything has a meaning. Bad things happen, and good people die. Some can foretell the future, others can do... whatever you call this. Remember, it’s never why, but what you do with that gift that counts.”
Jeremiah looked down, sadness washing over his face which had barely begun to sprout more than peach fuzz. “At least you have a gift, you’re special. Me? All I can do is take a prick in the back door and swallow seed. And I don’t even like it!” From deep inside Jeremiah’s soul something broke, and it sent tears flowing down his face. Saerus got down from his horse and helped Jeremiah from his. He put an arm around the young man, who was barely younger than himself, now that he thought about it, led the horses and took them all over to a nearby clearing. The dome followed them, protecting them from harm.
He wiped away the tears with one finger, then lifted his head up from his chin. “Jeremiah, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Jeremiah wiped under his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and tried to staunch the flow of tears. “You’re King, you can afford to do that. When you’re me, just a boy fit only to shovel shit and fuck, it’s not that simple. Live in my world for a day, see what happens when you say no.” His tears were subsiding, but the forlornness that impregnated his entire being was almost too much for Saerus, and he had to wipe a stray tear from Kharisi’s own eyes.
“I promise you, when this is all over, you will never be forced to do anything. Nor will anyone touch one hair on your head. You’re under my protection now, you are my attendant. And you can leave the stables to the perverts, and shit dwellers.”
“Really?” Jeremiah asked, not daring to hope that what he was being told was the truth.
“I swear on my mother’s tits.”
“Thank you, you won’t regret this!” Jeremiah said and threw his arms around Kharisi’s neck. Saerus kissed the side of his face and walked him back to the road with the horses, and they both saddled up again.
No sooner had they clutched the reins of their horses when a volley of arrows some flaming, some tipped with poison, appeared in the sky like fireworks, aimed right for them.
28: Blood and Body
Any other leader would have been on their knees, pleading for mercy, begging forgiveness and promising anything to have their life spared. That’s what was expected, what the guards who held Offa at sword point were hoping for. Just a little regret would go a long way, but Offa, as they saw, was not like any other King, or peasant for that matter.
Offa stood, looking at all of them with a knowing smirk on his face. “You think you know what you’re doing, don’t you?” he asked, in an informal, conversational tone. He began pacing in a circle, hand out touching the tip of each sword as he passed by. The guards looked to one another, their bravado, enabled by drink and anger was dissipating. “You know nothing, however. But I will let you in on a secret. All of you, without exception, are going to die and very soon.” Offa returned to the middle of the circle, ripped off his clothing like a grotesque strip show and watched the expression of them all change from confusion to disgust. His two cocks slithered to the floor like snakes, the opening of the foreskin grew fangs that leaked a sickly green glow. They intertwined with one another, and their ends met, each looking like it swallowed the other, and it began to engorge with blood. Offa screamed though it was more in ecstasy than pain even as his body began to tear and rip itself apart.
The tip of the conjoined pricks turned an ugly purple, and the color made its way down the length of the fleshy rope as if it were a slow-burning fuse. The guards were so preoccupied with watching that, none of them noticed the cloven hoof bursting through Offa’s rectum, sending blood and shit in a wave of crimson offal, dowsing everyone in front of it. The guards hit with the most began retching and puking even as the mess clogged their noses and trickled down their throats. There was a loud crack, as Offa’s spine snapped, allowing his torso from the ribcage up to fall backward. Offa would be staring at the ceiling had his eyes not been cracked open allowing hundreds of baby spiders to issue forth.
As Offa’s torso began to split, as if being cut from the inside, everyone began screaming. Offa, his head hanging on by some very thin veins and a sliver of muscle cackled maniacally. The guards tried running away and found the exits blocked by the crumbling stones of the castle falling, preventing their escape. Two talons emerged from the body cavity, as Offa’s corpse collapsed on the floor. The impact was enough to rip the head loose, and it bounced around the guard's legs, its mouth trying to bite anything that came close.
The creature, for that’s the only thing the guards could think of to describe the monstrosity birthing itself from the remains of the body, was surprisingly large, surprisingly scaly, and unsurprisingly angry. Its head was the vague shape of a man’s, provided that man had the looks of an alligator with small flames coming from its nostrils. It stood on two thick though unsteady legs, thick as a man’s waist, each of them. Its arms, all muscle, and sinew looked big enough to break anything in two, including bones, bricks, stone or metal. When it opened its mouth rows of teeth were visible, some bright white and well taken care of, others black and yellow, the victim of cavities and abbesses. It had a tail that hung down and trailed on the floor behind him like the train of a wedding dress. Several guards stepped away from it, but it was too late. They had enough time to move about a foot back when the tail rose and swung at the
m, knocking them all down, smashing arms, fingers, and legs. The tail’s end hit one guard so hard, his lower jaw was torn off completely.
Then it spoke, something no one expected, “Do not move or I’ll burn you all to death. Slowly, one limb at a time.” The guards stood motionless, each dropping their weapon. The creature held out one hand, and as he pivoted in a circle, the weapons all rose in the air and burst into flame before raining down on the unsuspecting guards. The creature smiled. “I am Offa, and I am your King, now and forever. There shall be no others, I will sit on that throne until the universe is no more. The only laws are mine, and you are to follow my lead. Obey me, and you will have riches not dared dreamed of.
“Defy me, and I will flay you alive, and feed your skin to you.” The guards hung their heads low in subjugation and respect, even as the embers from the burned weapons created holes in their uniforms. “Now, where is my birth mate?”
“Who?” a guard asked meekly.
“Saerus the pervert, Saerus the bumboy, Saerus the filthy embarrassment. Where is he?”
The guards looked at one another in confusion. Again the guard called out, though not as meek and soft-spoken this time. “That’s who we thought you were, looking just like him and all.”
Offa looked to the guard, pointed one long, sharp-clawed finger at him, and motioned him to come closer. Everyone around him cleared the way, not wanting to get any splash damage should the occasion arise. The lone guard refused to be cowed however and strutted to Offa, chest puffed up, chin sticking out.
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