Nine of Wands-Tarot- The Staircase

by D. J. Manly

  “Come on,” he said suddenly, grabbing his arm, “we’re going to miss the jump off.”

  It was hardly scary anymore, making the leap off the moving staircase onto the rock just in front of that cave, but Tristan had been shaking like a leaf. Trinity ran into the cave, breathless, laughing about something someone did at his party. Tristan couldn’t hear him. His heartbeat was thudding in his ears. Then it was quiet and Trinity came closer. He could feel his breath in the dark, hear his breathing, steady and even. Tristan took a step back, feeling the cold rock against his back. The palms of Trinity’s hands kept him pinned there against the wall. He let out what sounded like a whimper when he felt one hand move to his shirt and begin to slowly unbutton the buttons. “Trin, what are you…?” But he knew. They both knew.

  He closed his eyes now. He licked his lips, and imagined he could taste his lips, taste his cock. His hand kept to his pants now, those raggedy pants which were two sizes too large. He ran his hand roughly over the distinctive bulge there, which had grown considerably in the last few minutes. Trinity’s mouth had come down on his, one hand stripping back his shirt, fumbling with his pants. The past and the present merged, culminating in the sensations shooting through his dick. He moaned. Trinity had his pants down to his feet. He was sinking to his knees, running his tongue over the head of his cock, and he came, right there, cum pumping into the air, running down the front of him. He had been embarrassed, especially when Trinity had sat back on his haunches and laughed at him.

  He had scrambled to get his pants back up, muttering something which made Trinity howl all the more with laughter. “Take it easy, Trist,” he said. “Happens to everyone. You’re just inexperienced, that’s all. You’ve never done it with anyone, have you?”

  “How in hell do you know?” He had been angry, embarrassed and oh so in love. He was marching out of there when Trinity caught his arm. “Go back to your little girls and…”

  “I don’t want those little girls,” he had said. Something in his voice caused him to fall silent. “I only dance with them to please my father. I want you, Tristan. God, I want you. I’ve been waiting for you all my life, waiting for you to grow up. Don’t leave.”

  He didn’t. Trinity drew him back into this cave, and he laid him down on floor of it. He took off his clothes while Tristan trembled with need. He kissed and touched every inch of him. He took his cock in his mouth, and then as the sun rose in the horizon casting a streak of light across their bodies, Trinity possessed him completely. The pain was blotted out by the emotion which gripped him, this feeling that he could die there now. Everything he had ever dreamt of was realised in that one act. And after that, they made love every chance they could, and there was only pleasure, and pleasure, and raw, aching lust which exploded into mind blowing need and love.

  Tristan reached up and wiped at his face now. What was that? It couldn’t be a tear. He hadn’t cried for years. But that’s what it was. It was one single tear. His cock ached, his heart felt as broken as it had the last time they met. He threw the blanket aside and stood up. How many times had he laid in Trinity’s arms in this cave? Too many times to count. He looked down at Samuel who was sound asleep. Samuel had asked him, what he knew about love? Everything.

  Chapter Three

  When Samuel spoke to him, it startled him. Tristan had almost forgotten that Samuel was there. He had been standing there at the mouth of the cave looking at the vestiges of that phenomenal staircase for a long time, thinking. How many times had he stood here with his head back against Trinity’s chest, strong muscular arms enveloping him like a cocoon? He’d always felt so safe in his arms, as if nothing bad could possibly happen as long as they were together.

  He was trying to remember when it had all started to go bad. The signs were there but he and Trinity didn’t pay a hell of a lot attention to them. They could only see each other, blinded by a love which blocked out everything else around them. They did eventually begin to notice how their fathers never attended any events together anymore. Reed began to miss government meetings in Temple City, important ones where major decisions were taken involving both their futures. Then Reed accused his father of making decisions without consulting him. A guard appeared at the bottom of the staircase inside what was considered Celestial Ridge. If you wanted to go to the top, you had to have a written invitation.

  Trinity began coming to him because it was just too much hassle for Tristan to get past the guard. They both asked their fathers what was happening but received little answers. One night as Trinity lay beside him on his bed, he asked Tristan why the Herits were trying to dominate his people. Tristan was so surprised, he sprang up in bed and said, “Who said that?”

  “Everyone is saying it.” He sat up himself, his blond hair falling across his face. “The Celestial paper said yesterday that your father has passed a law that no Celest can work in Temple City. They’ll all lose their jobs.”

  “That’s not true. I didn’t hear any of this.”

  “We can’t be dominated, Tristan. We are a proud people, warriors, not head people like you, but it doesn’t mean you are superior to us.”

  He didn’t like where he was going with this. “I don’t feel like that. I don’t know anyone who feels that way. And your people might have been warriors but that was centuries ago. I never understood why that was such a big deal anyway.”

  Trinity jumped off the bed. He began putting on his pants.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Tristan asked, his heart in his feet.

  “Leaving. You’re just like all the rest. My father said…”

  “What did he say?” Tristan demanded, standing in front of Trinity.

  “He said we’re not just going to lie back and take this. If we can’t work in your state, then your people shouldn’t be allowed up there.”

  “Do you hear what you’re saying? I don’t care who works where. This is stupid. I love you, Trinity. I…We don’t need to get mixed up in all this. We…”

  “Don’t you see, Tristan,” he said. “We are all mixed up in it. How can it be any different? We are who we are.”

  When the door flew open, both he and Trinity turned in surprise. It was Tristan’s father. “What’s he doing here? I want him out of here,” he bellowed. “No more God damned Celest in Temple City! Out before I have you arrested, and don’t come back.”

  Trinity grabbed the rest of his clothes and rushed out of Tristan’s room. Tristan was so angry. “What’s wrong with you?” He screamed at his father. “Why are you doing this? What’s happening? Is it true? Is it true that the Celest are being banned from Temple City?”

  “Yes,” his father said stiffly.

  “Why? Why, Father?”

  “Reed has done the same, and he’s cut off access to the Ridge. There will be no more exchanging of goods or…”

  “But why?” Tristan demanded.

  “We no longer see things the same way,” he said. “Bringing the two peoples together was a mistake. I don’t want to ever see that boy in this house. I forbid you from seeing him ever again.”

  “Tristan, Tristan?”

  Tristan turned now to see Samuel standing there. He had one of those horrible energy bars in his hand. “Hungry?”

  “No.”

  “Are you alright? You seemed…lost?”

  Lost. Yes, after that night when Trinity had left him, he was lost, and he had been ever since. “I’m fine. It’s stopped raining. Let’s go.”

  The rocks were slick, what with all the rain they’d had, but at least the rain had slacked for the time being. Climbing was slow, just because the terrain was now extremely muddy and it was hard to get your footing. A few times he had slipped back, having to recover the distance it had taken him twice the normal time to cover. Samuel bitched behind him. Tristan didn’t mind. His voice kept him focussed, his mind off the exhaustion which had crept into his limbs. It was almost dark and Tristan knew that soon they would have to stop. They didn’t have much food and all
they had left for water was the bottle they kept in reserve.

  As if reading his thought, Samuel asked him if there was any water further up? “We’re about a day away,” he said, glancing back at him. “And we have at least another two hour climb before there’s a place to rest.”

  “Oh God,” he groaned, leaning his back against the rock while he balanced on a narrow ledge of rock. “I’m not going to make it, Tristan.”

  “Yes,” he said. “You are.”

  “You know, at any minute, I expect a sniper to shoot at me out of nowhere and…”

  “The snipers are occupied elsewhere.” Tristan looked up. He was beginning to suspect that what he’d find above wouldn’t look a hell of a lot different than what he’d seen below. The Celest warriors were gone, fighting the Epemo somewhere, doing what they could to keep them away. His guess was that some Celest civilians were either sick and dying from the gasses which had finally permeated the atmosphere above, or desperately trying to prevent Celestial Ridge from being shut down completely.

  “When we get up there, we…”

  “Samuel, I doubt we’re going to have to worry. The warriors are gone. I’m sure of it now. Look, it’s not much further. Let’s get a push on.”

  Those last few miles to the next plateau were brutal. His hands were bloody and when he finally crawled over onto the flat, he couldn’t feel his legs. When he saw Samuel’s head, he reached down and pulled him up. He was breathing hard. Tristan ran his hand over Samuel’s back, then, reached in his sack to get the reserve bottle of water. He lifted his head and gave him some, having to pull it away from him when he began to gulp it. “Keep it in your mouth before you swallow,” Tristan told him. They couldn’t afford to drink much.

  He rolled over finally, and throwing his arm across his chest, he went to sleep there, his legs hanging over the cliff. Tristan got up and dragged his legs up onto the rock, then covered him with his blanket, pulling him further away from the ledge in case he moved around in his sleep. He walked over to the other side of the ledge and looked down. He could barely make out Temple Green in the dark, but he took some comfort knowing some of his people were still down there, still alive. Bobby and Lana and that baby they hadn’t named yet were down there now too.

  He pressed his back against the cold granite and slunk down onto his butt. He looked out at the night silent night sky, tired eyes blinking towards sleep. He was hungry but didn’t feel it. His bones ached. He knew he was reaching the end. He wouldn’t have been able to continue much more. After years of war, years of fighting people he once passed on their way to work in the streets, he spent his time finding survivors and burying the dead. Sometimes he prayed he’d fall ill, actively scrutinizing his body everyday, looking for the signs that the gasses had finally got him. They never did, probably because when the gasses were released, he was fighting Celest warriors in Temple Green. It took longer for the gasses to reach the countryside, and by the time they did, the effect had lessened considerably. Only the weakest individuals in Temple Green were affected, children, old people, those with weak immune systems.

  The gasses hadn’t killed him. The warriors hadn’t either, although he’d been wounded enough. Sometimes he thought it was because he was meant to meet Trinity one more time before he died. Sometimes he imagined that they would come face to face on the battlefield. He would once again look into those blue eyes of his, and Trinity would speak his name just before he killed him. If he was going to die in battle, then it might as well be by Trinity’s hand. Trinity. Sometimes the thought that he would see him again was all that kept him going. The hunger, the exhaustion, the total horror or death and disease, the thoughts he dare not even allow regarding what their fathers had done…all this had taken its toll. Now he was sick, not from gasses, but from hunger and cold, and pain, and all he wanted to do was get to the top of that mountain. And there it would end.

  “It’s okay, Tristan.”

  The voice sounded real. “Trinity?” He spoke his name aloud, his eyelids snapping open. He looked around, his heart thudding in his chest. Was he hallucinating now?

  It wouldn’t be the first time. He closed his eyes, and there they were. This time they were in the field on the North side. They used to take walks there. It was overrun with wild flowers and blue blades of sweet smelling grass. A brook babbled nearby, and there was this gigantic tree which always peered down at them, giving them shade from the sun. He was moaning. He was lying naked, stretched out, his arms over his head. Trinity was on top of him, his hands pinning his wrists, his mouth on his. His mouth moved down further, brushing his nipple, licking around his navel, taking his erection into it. Tristan moaned again, his hips lifting. “Trinity,” he cried out. “God, Trinity, yes. Yes, baby. I want you. I want you so much.” On his knees, his gaze on the bark of that tree. Pleasure shooting up inside of him. “Baby.” His head went back, a whimper, a cry rattling in his mouth. Trinity’s mouth on his neck.

  “Tristan.”

  His eyes opened only to see Samuel standing in front of him. “Tristan,” he said. It was his voice he heard? No, it was Trinity. Tristan licked at his dry lips. “Are you alright?” He leaned down, touched his forehead. “You’re burning up. You’re not well.”

  “I’m fine,” he managed. He was hard. His gaze ran over Samuel in a way which was not difficult for Samuel to read.

  “Yes,” Samuel said, standing up and beginning to undo his shirt. Tristan suddenly realised how thin Samuel had gotten. Was he that thin as well? When he began to undo his pants, Tristan reached up and placed his hand over his. “What? You don’t want to?”

  Tristan pressed his forehead against both of their hands and held it there. “I’m sorry, Samuel. Just sit beside me. We’ll use the blanket, keep warm together.” He reared back, aware of the disappointment in Samuel’s face. When Samuel brought the blanket and sat down next to him, Tristan smiled at him. “Do you know how grateful I am to have you here with me right now?” He coughed a little, then, swallowed again.

  “Really? But you wanted me to leave.”

  “I wanted to give you the chance to leave. Coming up here doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

  “What does it have to do with then?” He met his gaze.

  “I can’t,” he began.

  “Tell me.”

  “It won’t make any sense to you.”

  “Tristan. Nothing has made sense for a very long time.”

  Tristan laughed, and reached over and touched his hand. Maybe in other circumstances, he might have loved Samuel, if it hadn’t been for Trinity.

  “You realise that I love you,” Samuel told him. “You know that I will go to the ends of the earth with you, and I will die with you.”

  Tristan swallowed.

  “It doesn’t matter that your heart belongs to someone else.”

  Tristan caught his breath. “I…”

  Samuel held up his hand. “I know it. I feel it. I feel it every time you’re inside me. I’m beyond hope that you will ever love me like that, I’m beyond caring.”

  “I’m sorry, Samuel,” he said, his voice shaking.

  He drew him up against his shoulder and stroked his hair. “Me too,” he whispered. “Me too.”

  * * * *

  Tristan had absolutely no idea how they had made it up to Celestial Ridge. The following three days saw more rain, and at one time snowflakes. There was no water where Tristan was sure they’d find some. The small reservoir was dry. They arrived on top of the Ridge completely exhausted and dehydrated.

  The first thing Tristan saw was that old tree in the distance. It was still sitting there in the middle of the North field. It brought tears to his eyes. As he began trudging through the tall grass, Samuel followed on his heels, cautioning him. Tristan seemed to have gotten his second wind. Although the cough had deepened, and there was infection in his left hand from where he had torn it on the rocks, he could no longer feel the pain in his limbs. He pushed forward.

  “Tri
stan,” Samuel hissed. “There could be soldiers and…”

  Tristan turned around and looked at him. When they reached the clearing, and stood on the edge of town, Tristan pointed. No soldiers, and just what he’d expected. They walked freely into the center of town. Everywhere there were containers piled with bodies. Children sat in the street, streaked with dirt, crying because they couldn’t find their parents. The Emperor’s house stood unguarded up at the end of the road.

  “I don’t see any survivor camps,” Samuel kept his head down, afraid to look at the people scurrying past them.

  “The North Field cuts in two,” Tristan said. “Any camp would be set up on the other side where they could be surveyed from the Emperor’s home.”

  “There will be soldiers there.”

  “I doubt it. Any warriors left from the war without people are fighting the Epemo. They wouldn’t waste any on survivor camps. There is no reason. They’re aren’t enough of us left to attempt any rescue.” Tristan picked up the pace, focused on the Emperor’s home. Even if Trinity was still alive, he wouldn’t be there. He’d be fighting. That’s what he’d been trained to do. Suddenly, his gaze lit on the path leading up the Emperor’s grand home and he saw himself there, Trinity out in front, calling to him.

  * * * *

  “Come on, I’ll teach you,” Trinity said, throwing a long sword at him, which Tristan immediately dropped on the ground. Trinity laughed. “Hold on to it!”

  “It’s heavy.”

  “Here, hold it like this,” Trinity urged impatiently, coming up behind him and showing him how to wrap his fingers around it. “There, you got it. Now, try to wield it.”

  “How, I can’t even…” He’d been frustrated.

  Trinity thought it hilarious. He came up behind him again. The nearness of him was far too distracting. Tristan couldn’t concentrate on anything except how he smelt and the pressure of his strong muscular chest against his back.