“So you’ve become a proper thief now?” Eirik asked.
“I have become a master of thievery because you said it’d take as much to steal a squire away from his home.”
“Then let us put your skills to the test, shall we?” Eirik smoothed down his hair, which had been ruffled by their kisses. “Tomorrow night, I have a priest from the western towns stopping by for dinner. Surely, a master of thieves could manage something as simple as stealing the roast from my own cooking fire? Take it, and I’ll consider your proposal.” Eirik gave him a hard look. “I’m not going to make this easy. I’ll inform the guards. There’ll be patrols around the entire estate.”
“If this is what it takes to prove that I’m worthy of your love—” Tyv bowed low and scooped his hat back into his hand afterward. “Then I look forward to eating that roast myself for dinner tomorrow night. I do hope you have your cook make you a backup meal. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of a priest.”
“Confident as always, Tyv.”
Tyv winked and escorted himself out of the house. He made sure to go the way he came, casing the kitchen and the gardens outside and thinking of a plan.
THE NEXT DAY, Tyv went to the cave to care for and feed his horse. Once she’d been groomed and fed, he went out into the woods and caught three live rabbits. They were all large with brown fur, which would be easy to spot from a distance. The last thing he did was gather up a bouquet of purple fairy primroses and tied them with a scarlet ribbon from his stashed loot. Tyv stuck the flowers in the band of his hat for safekeeping, gathered up his three sacks with the three rabbits, and walked to where the woods turned into the edge of Eirik’s property.
Even with the extra patrols, Tyv managed to reach Eirik’s kitchen without being seen. He slipped behind some hedges and peeked through a raised window. The smell of roast drifted out into the open air and made Tyv’s mouth water. Inside, an old woman tended the fire while a few others peeled potatoes and prepared pastries for Eirik’s dinner guest. Two guards stood near the doorway around a corner from the window, but Tyv paid them no mind. Instead, he untied the first of his three sacks and set one of the brown rabbits free into the garden.
“Look!” a voice called from the kitchen. “That hare’s grown real fat preparing for winter. He’d make a great stew. Hey! Why don’t you two louts by the door go and hunt him for us?”
The guards’ reply wasn’t audible since they weren’t standing next to the window like the cooking girl; however, Tyv heard them laughing. He waited for a time and released the second rabbit.
“See? He’s so fat he’s practically tame!” the older woman called out the window the second time. “You two quit being so lazy and fetch us that rabbit for supper tomorrow!”
Again, the guards refused, and again, Tyv sat and waited in the bushes despite the smell of roast and potatoes making his stomach rumble. He waited until dinner was almost done and released the final hare—this one much closer to the guards themselves.
Tyv lingered near the corner, trying to hear the guards. They went back and forth, and finally one shouted.
“If you want this hare so much for supper, you’d better help us flush him out of the shrubs if he tries to hide.”
The three kitchen servants all went outside. They laughed as the two guards fumbled for the last rabbit. Tyv slipped through the window and stole the roast and an apple tart for his supper. Before he left, he pulled the fairy’s primroses from his hat and laid them on the table. They glittered, as fairy primroses always did, and added a sweet fragrance to the savory aroma of roasting vegetables and soup.
Tyv climbed out of the window and returned to his hiding spot in the hedges. The women returned to the kitchen, complaining about how slow the guards were, and the guards grumbled from the doorway. The eldest cook gasped and screamed about the missing roast, and Tyv bit his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing out loud.
“What’s going on?” Eirik’s voice soon followed after the shouts.
There were explanations given, none of which mentioned chasing rabbits. From the way the cook told it, they’d been busy pulling pies from the oven, and when they turned around—the roast was gone! Like magic! Tyv loved every second of the story.
“What’s this?” one of the girls asked. “Flowers tied with a ribbon?”
“Let me see,” Eirik said, and Tyv’s heart raced as he waited for Eirik’s next line. He heard a soft laugh. “That fool.”
Tyv frowned and almost jumped up to argue but kept himself still.
“Looks like you’re the fool,” another voice carried from the open window.
“Sorry, Father Laurence, I suppose we’ll be having leftover lamb for supper after all. The thief I mentioned somehow managed his magic trick.” A pause. “See how these glitter? They’re from the forest, and the people say the petals glisten because the fairies enchant them. Maybe the fairies stole the roast for him as well. The way Nelli talks, it was certainly magic.”
“Magic is the work of the devil,” the priest lectured. “Why aren’t you sending out your guards to find him?”
“Oh, they won’t find him.” There was mirth in Eirik’s voice, although Tyv couldn’t see his face.
“You sound certain.”
“I am.”
“Then as I said, you’re a fool to allow yourself to be so easily robbed.” The priest snorted.
“It was not easy, but it has been done. Besides, doesn’t the Bible say if someone steals your cloak, give him your tunic? If anything, we should offer our dessert to the thief.”
“M’lord, he stole one of the tarts,” the girl who had first noticed the original rabbit said.
“Well, I suppose there’s no need to offer it then. Father Laurence, let’s go back to the table where it’s less hot and refresh ourselves with wine while Nelli reheats the lamb.”
“You’re gracious, but I still think too gracious. A squire to our king should be able to protect his own. A member of a purer, nobler family wouldn’t need this to be said to them, but I suppose you're more like your grandfather than your father.”
Their voices faded, and Tyv waited until night would cover his escape. Back home, his father scowled at him upon sight. That didn’t stop Tyv from smiling and setting his spoils of theft on the table. He sliced up the roast and tart and put half of each on his father’s side of the table.
“You stole those, didn’t you?”
“From the squire, of course.”
“I don’t want it.”
“He told me to steal it. I’m sure he didn’t want me to toss it in the river afterward.”
“Why would he tell you to steal your supper? If this squire was as fond of you as you think, he would have invited you to dinner.”
“We’re playing a game, Father. You don’t have to eat, but I’ll leave it there for you.” Tyv dug into his portion.
The meat was heavily crusted with rosemary and ground pepper, and it melted in his mouth and he sighed as he ate. His father watched as he clutched his usual bowl of pottage. He resisted for another minute but started tearing into the food with relish, and Tyv was glad to see it. His father wasn’t a very good man, but even he deserved more food than watered-down onions and rutabagas. Tyv waited until midnight and slipped out of the house, making his way back to Eirik’s place. He knew the priest would be gone, and he wanted to see his soon-to-be betrothed.
As soon as Tyv swung one leg into Eirik’s room, he felt the cold edge of a knife against his Adam’s apple.
“I had quite the difficult night because of you,” Eirik said.
“Did that old priest continue to give you a hard time?”
“Heard that, did you?”
“Some of it.”
“That fat fool was here to christen my steward’s firstborn, but I think he just wanted to get fat on roast. He wouldn’t shut up about it the entire night and insulted me time and time again. Had he been a fighter, I would have challenged him to a fight, but he’s a pri
est and I could only smile at him. It was insufferable.”
“You should have eloped with me right away instead of playing games.”
“Well, I didn’t think you’d succeed. I was sure you’d fail and forget this ridiculous notion of marrying me.”
“I see you placed my flowers in a vase near your bed.”
“Damn you.” Eirik grabbed Tyv’s collar and threw him onto the broad, four-poster bed.
“So?” Tyv asked after licking Eirik’s bottom lip. He sank into the mattress, moaning from both how soft and how good Eirik’s mouth felt on his own. “Will you marry me now?”
“No.”
“But you said—”
“I said I’d consider it,” Eirik said. “I want to give you another challenge.”
Tyv couldn’t answer because Eirik was smothering his mouth with deep, lush kisses. When they broke for air, Tyv rose up on his forearms.
“And if I complete this new challenge? Will you marry me?”
“If you succeed, it will help sway my decision as I contemplate your proposal.” Eirik sighed as he combed his long hair behind him and gave Tyv a hungry look. “But don’t worry. You completed my first challenge. I think you’ve earned a reward. You wanted my hand—” Eirik pulled at the silver buttons on Tyv’s pants and slipped his hand down the front. “You shall have it.”
Tyv squealed when Eirik’s fingers wrapped around his cock. He bucked and squirmed and fisted the embroidered blanket below them. Eirik teased Tyv’s cock to its full length and stroked with his clenched fist.
“Oh God,” Tyv whispered into Eirik’s shoulder as his hips continued to buck. He hadn’t expected to be touched, and his entire body felt like a thunderstorm.
“Speaking of God.” Eirik grinned. “I’m still upset about the priest’s rude behavior, but you’ll teach him some manners for me, won’t you, Tyv?”
Tyv nodded, and his hands fumbled out of his gloves and went for Eirik’s pants. He unlaced and tugged at them until he could reach inside and grab Eirik’s fat shaft. Tyv groaned and glanced at Eirik. His silver-green eyes gleamed in the lamplight, and his flaxen hair glinted with each turn of his head. Tyv’s lids dropped halfway, and he plucked a kiss from Eirik’s lips. They continued to kiss until the pleasure climbed up into Tyv’s belly and he had to pull away to call out.
“Remove your cloak,” Eirik ordered.
Tyv used his free hand to unfasten the clasp and allow the red material to drop from his collarbone. With his throat exposed, Eirik began sucking until Tyv had his own cluster of primroses on his skin. He moaned again, clutched Eirik’s shoulder, and stroked faster, but his own pleasure was too sharp and too good.Tyv’s hand slowed as sweat soaked through his clothes. He held his breath and shuddered as he came all over Eirik’s fine embroidery.
“Troublesome little thief.” Eirik spoke against Tyv’s throat as he continued to kiss his dark skin. “Make me come now.”
Tyv sat up and pulled Eirik into his lap so he could get a better grip on Eirik’s cock. He thumbed the slit of Eirik’s cockhead, and slid his hand as low as he could reach to tease his balls for a moment before curling his fingers around the shaft once again and giving each stroke a little twist that made Eirik’s breath hitch.
“Like this?” Tyv asked.
“Mmmm…yes. Like that.” Eirik wrapped his arms around Tyv’s neck and leaned into him as he moved in time with Tyv’s strokes. “Like that. Tyv, I’m—” Eirik closed his eyes, threw back his head, and came over Tyv’s hand.
The thief grinned and brought his hand up to lick it clean. Eirik watched with a hazy, lost look in his eyes and a slack jaw.
“It’ll take me a bit, but you’ll know when the job is done.” Tyv took Eirik’s hand and kissed it before dressing and sneaking away through the window.
“WHAT TROUBLE ARE you causing now?” his father asked as Tyv sat near the fire and concentrated on his stitchwork.
“Sewing.”
“Good. Go be a tailor and stop being a scoundrel.”
“No, I’m definitely up to no good with this. Luckily, I had Old Lene teach me how to work a needle.”
“I’m going to chop wood.” His father shuffled toward the door.
“I already did it,” Tyv said. “You should rest.”
But his father only snorted and went outside all the same. Tyv shook his head but let the old man go and continued working on his disguise. The next few days were filled with busywork. He groomed and fed Snøfall, and stole an entire sack’s worth of feathers from the hen and goose houses on Eirik’s property. He also stole wire and a bolt of white satin and began to make himself a robe. He used the wire and feathers to fashion a pair of wings and finished the costume with a golden circlet from the stash of treasure that he’d taken from the seven thieves.
Tyv rode Snøfall west to the town where Father Laurence lived. The church was far too big for the town in which it sat. A marble fountain stood in the front. Its cost could have fed dozens of widows and orphans, and Tyv wrinkled his face. He hid Snøfall in a grove of trees, changed into his angel costume, and snuck to the back of the church. There, the thief climbed a maple tree in the center of the garden and waited for Father Laurence to pass by.
Close to noon, the priest appeared. Tyv jumped from the maple branch. The priest screamed in terror, jumped back, and shielded his face with his hands.
“Hark! Do not be afraid,” Tyv said, and hoped that it was convincing angel talk; they’d never had enough money to own a Bible and always lived too far away from town to go to church.
“Are you…truly an angel of the Lord?” Father Laurence’s jaw dropped, and he fell to his knees as if in prayer.
“It is as you say.” Tyv twirled to show off his white satin robe and feathered wings. “Rejoice! You have been chosen among God’s people! In three days’ time, I will return and take you, living, up to Heaven as a reward for your piety to God!”
“O-oh thank you! Thank you! Yes, I am quite pious, and I’m honored that God has noticed.”
“Humble, too.” Tyv masked his grin with a stern expression. “But of course, the trip will not be easy. You must first gather up all your worldly possessions—your gold, your rings, your best dishes and finery—and have them ready to offer to God to show that he is more important to your heart than riches.” Tyv shrugged. “But what’s a gold ring in a city with golden streets, yes?”
“Yes. Uh—yes of course. I’ll have everything ready in three days’ time!”
“Good. Now, my child, pray, right this moment, and help prepare your soul to meet God.”
The priest folded his hands and hid his face, kneeling into the ground. When Father Laurence's eyes were closed in prayer, Tyv jumped back into the maple tree until he was hidden in the blaze of crimson and bright orange leaves. He watched from above as Father Laurence prayed for another few seconds before peeking up to see if the angel was still there. He started when he only saw a few feathers. Jumping to his feet, the priest shouted about how God was going to reward him with a trip to Heaven.
When he was confident that no one would catch him, Tyv jumped back down, went to fetch his clothes and horse, and rode home in a fit of laughter. During the three-day wait, Tyv replaced any lost feathers in his wings and stole a cart from Eirik’s barn to attach to Snøfall for their next trip. He rode at dusk on the third day, parking Snøfall outside of the church and going in with a large burlap sack.
“Is that for the gold?” Father Laurence asked when he saw the sack in Tyv’s hands.
“The gold? Of course not. God will take the gold himself. This is for you.”
“Me? Why do I need a sack?”
“Heed me, Father Laurence, for you—a pious man of God—well know that the path to Heaven is narrow. You must endure this final trial in order to purify yourself before you meet God. Thus, I was sent here by God to place you in this sack and drag you up a mountain. You will suffer during the trip, but then you shall know all the joys of Paradise once it is over.
”
“All right. Anything you say!”
“Here, get into this sack.” Tyv set it on the ground so Father Laurence could step inside, and then he tied it up with rope. “Good, good. Now kneel. Yes, like that, and pray to prepare yourself for the journey. Pray long and hard, because we cannot begin until you’re truly prepared.”
Tyv jogged out to the cart where there was another sack. In the second sack, he placed all of Father Laurence’s material goods. Then, Tyv loaded up both sacks into the cart.
“This will be a bumpy journey at first, and it’ll get worse, but you must endure this trial to see Heaven.”
Tyv didn’t wait for a reply. He leapt onto Snøfall’s back and rode toward the edge of Eirik’s estate. He found a sheltered spot for Snøfall, and began to drag Father Laurence through the woods. Brambles snatched at the coarse burlap. The priest’s weight caused the sack to sink into the mud, and the jagged corners of stones tried to tear into the bag, but Tyv kept walking and dragging. He smirked every time the priest cried out in discomfort or called out for God to deliver him from his trial.
Each puddle of melted snow they passed through glittered with reflected stars, and Tyv’s robes grew muddy as he walked, but they finally reached the goose house. Tyv hoisted the bag inside and watched as the geese pecked at the bag in distrust.
“Ow! Oh Lord, what is this?”
“This is your final trial, my child,” Tyv said. “In an hour, it shall be done, and when the bag opens up, you’ll get exactly what you deserve.”
“A-an hour?”
“What’s an hour to God?” Tyv shrugged and walked away.
His toes stung, and his slippered feet were soaked through with melted snow. He wrapped his arms around his chest for warmth as he trudged back to his horse. Once he had her stabled and fed and warm back in her cave, Tyv built a fire to warm himself as well. He washed in the creek again and donned his stolen clothes. He reached the goose house again just before the keeper girl went to fetch the eggs from the geese and hens in their various coops. Tyv hid in another maple and listened in amusement as the girl shrieked in shock when she discovered a bruised and delusional priest in a sack.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 24