“What is this? What is this!” he raved as he ran out of the goose pen and looked around. “This can’t be! This is not Heaven! What is the meaning of this?”
The girl ran screaming toward the house, and a moment later, Eirik appeared. His hair was clean and combed, but he wore his sleeping robes instead of regular clothes and rubbed his eyes as he marched out toward the goose pen where Father Laurence paced and screamed.
“Father…Laurence? Why are you in my goose house?”
“You tell me!” the priest screamed.
“I couldn’t possibly guess.”
“The angel! The angel said he’d take me to Heaven! He…he…” Father Laurence stopped a moment. The wind blew up his thinning hair as he blinked toward the sunrise. “He took all my gold! It must have been the same thief that stole your roast! Goddammit!”
“Father, please.” Eirik feigned offense, but even from Tyv's leafy hiding spot, he could see the smile trying to break through. “Well, I may have lost a roast, but you seemed to have lost quite a bit more. I wonder, then, who the real fool is now? Nevertheless, please come into my home and refresh yourself. Breakfast will be ready soon.”
“The devil take you both!” Father Laurence began to march in the direction of his own town.
“Father,” Eirik called after him. “You’re in shock. At least take a carriage back.”
He grumbled but walked toward the stables to pace and kick at pebbles and wait for Eirik’s servants to prepare a carriage to drive him home. Eirik gave the orders, but instead of going back inside, he wandered around, looking. Tyv grinned and snatched a leaf from the tree, dropping it on top of Eirik. The squire brushed it aside and continued to search the landscape, so Tyv dropped a second leaf. It took three until Eirik finally looked up and grinned. He pointed to a certain window in the house and disappeared back inside.
Tyv waited until he saw the window open, checked to make sure no servants would see him, dropped to the ground, and dashed for the window. He leaped inside, heart giddy at the thought of being close to Eirik, and breath short when Eirik slammed him against the wall and stole his own kiss from the thief. Tyv’s hat tumbled to the floor, but he left it where it fell.
“Well?” Tyv asked as they fought over who would suck whose bottom lip.
“Well? I’m showing my appreciation, aren’t I? Did you really dress up as an angel and tell him you’d take him to Heaven?”
“It wasn’t all a lie—anywhere you are is Heaven to me.”
“Shut up.” Eirik slipped his tongue into Tyv’s mouth before pulling away. “Shut up.” He kissed him again. “I really can’t stand the way you talk.”
“Why? Because you like it?”
“Yes,” Eirik growled, his fingers digging into Tyv’s shoulders. “I can’t actually marry you, it’s…it’s ridiculous.”
He slammed himself against Tyv once again, their lips burning from the friction of their kisses. Tyv pulled off his gloves so he could hold Eirik’s face with his bare palms. Their kisses slowed, time slowed, and it wasn’t until they broke for breath again that Tyv realized they were in the library. Eirik leaned over and shut the window.
“I have another challenge for you.”
“Eirik—”
“I need time to think and I don’t trust you being idle, so do this for me.”
“Fine. Each time you give me a new game, I get a little richer, so why not?” Tyv sighed and closed his eyes. “What’s your challenge?”
“Steal all twelve horses from my barn.”
“Easy enough.” Tyv shrugged.
“I’m going to place a guard on top of each one every night until you give up.”
“Is that how we play?” Tyv grabbed Eirik’s shoulders, reversing their positions and pinning Eirik against the wall. “Listen, I’m going to steal the horses and sell them and use that money for our wedding feast, so don’t ask me to steal what you don’t want to be stolen. Do you still want to give me this challenge?”
“Yes.” Eirik’s face flushed, and he gave Tyv a wanton stare. “I don’t think it’s possible, but if you manage…I’ll admittedly be impressed.”
“Fine.” Tyv released Eirik. “I’ll see you once I’ve cleared your stable.”
“Wait.” Eirik grabbed him.
Tyv stared at him. Eirik looked desperate, and Tyv sighed, unable to hold on to his irritation. He leaned close and rested his forehead against Eirik’s.
“Don’t go just yet,” Eirik whispered.
“Okay, I won’t,” Tyv said.
“Kiss me.”
Tyv placed a single kiss on Eirik's temple before taking him by the shoulders and pushing him backward until Eirik fell onto an overstuffed chair near the hearth. He straddled Eirik's lap, and stole little kisses from Eirik’s mouth. Eirik gasped as Tyv's lips traveled down to Eirik’s lace-white throat. He kissed gently so he didn’t bruise the skin as his fingers worked at the knot at the top of Eirik’s shift. He opened up the front of the evening robe and kissed down Eirik’s thick chest. Every hour of sword practice showed in the way the muscles hugged Eirik’s body, and Tyv licked around each curve. He realized that Eirik’s nipples were the soft pink of wild roses, and he nipped and sucked at them until Eirik had to cover his mouth to muffle his moans of pleasure.
Tyv glanced up, enjoying the unkempt look of Eirik with his hair sticking to the chairback and his robe wrinkled around his body. Tyv slipped down to the floor and knelt in front of Eirik, shoving the robe up Eirik’s thighs. He smoothed his hands up and down a moment before bending low and kissing Eirik’s soft skin.
“Oh…oh, Tyv.” Eirik gasped.
The higher Tyv kissed, the louder Eirik gasped. He fisted his robes and pulled them up to his stomach, exposing himself for Tyv to see. Tyv blew on Eirik’s hard cock and grinned when it twitched. Instead of licking it, he sank a little lower and rolled his tongue along Eirik’s balls.
“Maybe you are an angel.” Eirik tried to laugh, but his voice was light and breathless. “Your mouth feels divine—ahh!”
Tyv licked up Eirik’s shaft. When he reached the head, he traced under the hood of it with the tip of his tongue. Then Tyv kneaded his lips just below the tip and down the shaft.
“Please.” The request sounded soft and sweet, not the order of a squire but the plea of a lover, and it ignited fire in Tyv’s stomach.
He opened his mouth wide and sealed his lips halfway down Eirik’s cock. He gave the hot flesh a few experimental licks before sucking. Eirik hitched, knuckles white as he clenched his robes. Tyv slid down a little lower than before, tasting the salt of Eirik’s skin and moaning in delight. He moved in rhythm, dropping his lips lower down Eirik’s shaft each time. Eirik whined and clenched his teeth and lost his fingers in Tyv’s curls.
Tyv had his lips down to Eirik’s base now, and only pulled up halfway before dropping back. He sped up, and Eirik tensed in pleasure. Then Tyv pulled up all the way and went back to licking Eirik’s sac, which drew longer, huskier moans from Eirik’s mouth. Eirik squirmed and Tyv knew he wanted to come, so he plunged his mouth on Eirik’s cock again and sucked hard and fast.
Eirik rose up to help thrust into Tyv’s mouth. Eirik’s shaft swelled, the tip growing plump. He pushed himself a little deeper, and Tyv relaxed his throat to accommodate Eirik’s forward jabs. Then Eirik grabbed the arms of the chair and writhed as if possessed.
“Tyv,” he called once. “Tyv!” he called twice, and the third time he came down Tyv’s throat.
Tyv backed away and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Eirik had the look of a shipwrecked man—rumpled, panting, glassy-eyed. He didn’t speak, only stared at Tyv as his chest rose and fell.
“Is that what you were wanting?” Tyv grinned.
Eirik lunged at him. They crashed onto the rug and kissed again. As their lips lingered against each other, Eirik clawed the cloak away from Tyv’s shoulders and unlaced his vest. Eirik removed one of Tyv’s boots, so Tyv decided to work on the mate. As soon as his feet
were free from his shoes, Eirik ripped the belt and britches away from Tyv’s lower half.
“I read something in a book recently. I want to try it,” Eirik muttered as he kissed his way up Tyv’s shins and down his thigh.
“Anything you want. Do anything to me.” Tyv heard the needy tone in his own voice, but he didn’t care. Sucking Eirik’s cock had him worked up out of his mind, and he was willing to try any strange scene that Eirik might have read.
“Keep this nearby and get on your hands and knees,” Eirik ordered while handing Tyv a silk handkerchief.
“What?”
“The handkerchief is so you don’t stain my rug,” Eirik explained. “Trust me. I’m going to make you scream.” Eirik winced. “But mind the servants. I don’t want to deal with rumors of ghosts or devils.”
Tyv shook his head. It wouldn’t be the first time he had been accused of being a devil, but he rolled onto his stomach and lifted himself on hands and knees. He jerked out of reflex when Eirik rested his hands on Tyv’s ass cheeks and separated them. The nerves in Tyv’s stomach danced as he waited to see what Eirik planned to do.
He did not expect the wonderful burst of warmth against his asshole, and Tyv bit his lip to keep from shouting loud enough for the entire house to hear. Eirik licked his entrance a second time. His tongue moved with deliberate sweeps, up and down, then side to side, then in circles. Tyv dropped to his forearms, mad with pleasure. He shuddered each time Eirik’s tongue moved, and dug his nails into the carpet when Eirik poked his entire tongue inside of Tyv’s asshole.
“Sweet Jesus,” Tyv swore.
He’d imagined himself bent over Eirik’s rug plenty of times, but never like this. Stab after stab of euphoria shot through Tyv as Eirik’s tongue moved. Then he couldn’t stand it anymore, and Tyv grabbed his cock and started to jerk himself. So many late-summer nights in the woods he’d knead his own flesh as he thought of Eirik, and now Eirik was behind him, fucking Tyv with his tongue. The thought was enough to make Tyv’s cock drip in anticipation. He squeezed harder, arm tense as he stroked himself.
Eirik moaned behind him. The vibrations hummed against Tyv’s nerves, and Tyv’s free hand clenched into a fist as the muscles in his ass tightened. One last lingering lick from Eirik’s mouth was all it took for Tyv to come. He remembered the handkerchief and made sure to avoid the rug as he finished, but as soon as he was done, he dropped to his side and sucked air into his lungs.
“I know you need to go.” Eirik wrapped his arm around Tyv from behind. “But stay like this for a few minutes.”
“You have me in such a state that I couldn’t stand, let alone leave.” Tyv brushed his fingertips up and down Eirik’s arms.
“I’ve wanted to do that to you since I read about it. I almost did that day in the apple orchard.”
“I would have let you.”
“I know…I know, but I didn’t.”
“Because I’m common and not a knight or a lord,” Tyv answered. He knew. He’d always known.
“I know being poor is hard. I know you grew up cold and hungry while I had fur to keep me warm and Pinnekjøtt, potatoes, and aquavit to keep my belly full and my throat wet, but you need to realize that being the son of a noble is also hard. You’re told, before you can even walk, to marry up, always marry up. My grandfather married for love and destroyed the reputation of our house. My father was known as the Thin-blood Knight because of it and couldn’t do better than a friend’s niece for his own bride.” The entire time Eirik spoke, he stroked Tyv’s arms and shoulders and outer thigh, as if afraid Tyv would disappear even as Eirik tried to push him away with his speech. “Even now, I should be a knight. Time and time again, I’ve proven myself in battle, but I’m continuously overlooked because my status isn’t good enough. My only chance is to marry a knight’s daughter and have a son. At the very least, he will get more opportunity than I did, and the reputation of my house can finally recover.”
“Do you want to be a knight?” Tyv asked after Eirik’s story finished.
“What sort of question is that? I was born to a line of knights.”
“It’s a practical question,” Tyv answered. “My father isn’t a great man. He didn’t care for us well. Yet the one thing he did do was take us to the crossroads near the woods and let us choose our own path, and I think that’s a good way to live.”
“That’s great when you have no expectations to inherit, but living at court is far more complex.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“What does it matter?”
Tyv exhaled and turned to face his squire. “Eirik, what do you want to do with your life?”
“I don’t know.” Pale threads of hair fell into Eirik’s face. He frowned and stared at Tyv for a long time. “I thought I knew. I thought I wanted to restore honor and glory to my line. I wanted to rise up in the ranks of nobility and prove that I was better than those swine-fuckers, but…you. You stupid, stubborn, persistent thief. You have me fantasizing about cheap beer in run-down inns on the side of a road I’ve never heard the name of before. You have me dreaming of somewhere strange where summer lasts longer than a month.” Eirik sighed and rolled onto his back to stare at the roof. “Go home, thief.”
“I’ll go.” Tyv straddled Eirik and leaned down until their noses brushed. “But I’ll be back for your horses.”
“I told you, you’ll have to steal them from beneath the very guards who will watch over them.”
“Shove a guard up each horse’s ass and place one on his back for all I care. I love you, and I will marry you no matter how many challenges you give me.”
Eirik glided his cupped hand up Tyv’s cheek. “I’m not afraid of losing my horses. It’s the little chunks of my heart you keep stealing that frighten me.”
“I will steal the entire thing one day.” Tyv grabbed Eirik’s hand and kissed his palm before dressing and, once again, using a window to make his escape.
TYV FENCED OFF most of Father Laurence’s riches. He had another outfit custom-tailored for himself, and he purchased fine soap and bathing oils and supplies to keep Snøfall comfortable and well-fed. He stocked his father’s cupboard with rutabaga and potatoes, pickled eggs and cabbage, and sausages and smoked salmon. He also hid some money where he hoped his father would one day find it. He didn’t know if it’d ever be used; his father complained about the food as if Tyv beat him instead of fed him, but he hid it for his father all the same. He also bought two thick, warm blankets because Tyv was tired of curling in his cloak at night to keep from freezing.
The most important thing Tyv purchased was brandy and sleeping drought. He sewed himself a haggard robe from his old rag of a blanket, and trimmed Snøfall’s mane and tail in order to fashion a wig of white hair. In town, he hired near a dozen waifs—paying them in warm clothes, food, and a little coin—to sneak behind Eirik’s stable and lie in wait for the entire night. He explained it as a game and they laughed because they were thieves themselves and knew better, but still they played along, happy enough to work for new shoes to wear and sausages to eat.
Once everything was prepared, Tyv gathered up a dozen bundles of fairy primroses, which grew all year-round no matter the cold, stuffed the flowers in a sack, and tied that to his right shoulder so it looked like he had a swollen, arthritic back. Then Tyv snuck to Eirik’s stable dressed as a hunchbacked old woman needing a stick to walk. She arrived in the evening as the grooms scrambled to water the horses for the night.
“What the devil do you want?” one shouted at the old woman hobbling up to their stable.
“Oh! Oh!” Tyv wailed. “So cold and not even yet winter! These bones can’t take it! Could an old woman perhaps curl in the hay for but an hour to calm the shivers rattling me apart?”
“This is a stable, not an inn. Go find the fork in the road and go west until you see a church if you want charity.”
“I would, sir, I would, but ooooh! This cold! I can’t walk anymore. I need to warm myself, or I won’t make it thr
ee steps further.”
“The lord of the house doesn’t want an old hag in his stables.”
“Does he want an old hag’s corpse in his fields? For surely I’ll die before I make it to the road.”
“Oh, let her stay,” one of the guards snorted. “What harm can one old woman do?”
“There’s a thief on the prowl. We can’t let this old hag distract us,” another guard argued.
“If she’s a distraction, then perhaps you’re a poor guard.” A younger guard laughed at his older companion.
As they debated over it, Tyv walked into the stables and found a cozy spot that was in plain view of everyone but out of the way. He made a show of warming his hands and cooing in delight at being out of the wind. One or two continued to protest, but most were of the opinion that it’d be more hassle to evict her than to let her rest, and the grooms didn’t dare add their opinion. Instead, they helped the guards mount their respective horses for a night of watch duty and left to go to their own homes and their own fires.
The night air was bitter. The snow had melted weeks ago, but the nights stayed winter-cold as the field hands scrambled to save what autumn crops they could from the frost. Even the hay felt cold under Tyv’s ass, and he shivered despite the wool beneath the rags he wore.
“It’s so cold my teeth won’t quit chattering,” one of the guards complained.
“Much like how your mouth won’t quit chattering.” Another guard snickered.
A few laughs echoed in the barn, but the stable grew quiet except for a stray snort from a horse. The horses had blankets, but the guards did not, and sitting still without being able to walk about and patrol was work they weren’t accustomed to. More and more, the guards gave little complaints. One tried to dismount to bring his hands closer to one of the hanging lamps, but the guard in charge cursed him and forced him to hold his position on the horse.
Tyv grunted in agreement at the next complaint. The thief’s teeth clacked from shivering like the rest. He pulled out a small flask half full of pure brandy, allowing the liquor to slosh in the flask from the quivering of his hands. He brought the brandy to his lips and took a hearty drink, chugging the spirits with noisy glugs and smacking his lips in satisfaction afterward.
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 25