Dark Rider

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Dark Rider Page 2

by Elizabeth Monvey


  Once he reached as far up as he could go, he moved into the darkness of a nearby building and watched the changing of the guard in front of the castle. Proficient warriors who did not expect anything to happen. After a few more minutes of watching the monotonous marching routine, Cax turned away.

  His feet were tired of walking that night, so he waved his hand in front of him and out of the darkness the air bent around him. Whatever light was available suddenly rushed toward him and then distorted to form a walkway. Cax stepped through it and then vanished from sight.

  ****

  Alisander moved through the castle hallways like a wraith, following the servants’ walk that led to the side entrance. The guards saw him, nodded, but didn't stop him as he left the grounds to make his way through the twisting streets. The moon was high but awash with clouds, making the night an inky darkness of shadows. It had rained the night before, and not all of it had dissipated, leaving muddy gaps to avoid. The smell of urine and waste wafted toward him as the humidity made his clothes cling to his skin.

  As he drew near his destination, Winemaker Row, the streets grew thicker with various sounds, sights, and the smell of unwashed bodies. Alisander kept his hood pulled low over his forehead, not wishing to be seen. It was best to stay anonymous amid such a drunken throng of men.

  Alisander made his way quickly to the bar Poro attended and made sure he stayed out of the man's line of view, making his way up the stairs to the first door on the right. At some point during the evening, a piano player had come in, and the bawdy lyrics of a tune drowned out Alisander’s footfalls.

  He placed one hand on the knob and the other on the wooden panel, giving one last look around the hallway as he slowly eased open the door with a low squeal of unlubricated rusty hinges. No sooner had he eased inside than he found himself pushed up against a side wall, a hand squeezing off his airflow.

  "What in bloody blazes are you doing here?"

  Alisander stared up at the Mercenary in shock. He tried to get words out and clawed at the hand around his check. Cax let go, and Alisander slumped against the wall to gasp in much needed air.

  "Had to ... talk to you, sir."

  Cax studied him for a long moment and then, having obviously come to a decision, took a step back to fold his arms over his chest. "Name's Cax ... not sir."

  “I know.” Alisander bent over and rubbed his throat. "My name...."

  "And I know what your name is," Cax interrupted him. "Why did you come here, in the dead of night, to risk meeting death?”

  The question let the lad turn his head and meet his eyes. Cax only had on his breeches and boots. The shirt and tunic were gone; his chest was hard and the muscles corded, a body without excess fat or skin. There were several white scars crisscrossing over the smooth skin, across his hairless chest and over his shoulders. They weren’t the scars from jagged wounds, more like the remains of a carving knife. Still, despite the savagery, Alisander felt himself drawn to the big warrior, and his cock stirred to life.

  "I was ... I like your daggers."

  Cax pursed his lips together and blew a huff. "You disturb my slumber because of my daggers?"

  "Not ... not just daggers, though, are they? Weapons of your trade."

  Cax stiffened. "What do you know of such weapons?"

  Alisander answered quietly, in a scratchy voice. "You carry triangular blades, to make wounds that won't heal."

  "Aye," Cax answered cautiously. "Bloodletters."

  "I can't ... I can't believe I have the chance to talk to a Mercenary."

  "You get a gold star for the lesson, young Ali. I've traveled many kingdoms and not many can recognize one from the Mercenary Guild."

  "I'm going to be a Mercenary."

  “Are you now? How old are you?”

  “I’ve just had my twenty-first birthday,” Alisander answered. “I became Lord Hark’s squire when I was nine.”

  Cax snorted. “You don’t look one and twenty.”

  “It’s the haircut,” he replied, dead-pan.

  Cax clearly couldn’t help but crack a smile. "You know you need a sponsor to gain even an audience with the Guild Keeper."

  "That's why I had to talk with you."

  Cax took a step back, suspicion edging his question. "For why?"

  The lad took a deep breath. "I want you to take me to the Guild."

  Cax gave a quick burst of laughter. "No," was all he said through his amusement.

  "But you must. I've served Eyvindar faithfully, but … but I'm done with this life. I’m done with being just a servant. I want to be a Mercenary, and now I have you right here, like an answer to my prayers."

  Cax narrowed his gaze. “Tell me the real reason why you want to leave Eyvindar.”

  Alisander swallowed and shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t? Or won’t? Don’t lie to me. The surest way to bring about my disdain is by lying.”

  “I won’t lie to you, but I beg you to withdraw the question. It’s not something I wish to answer.”

  "Ali, I'm not going to the Guild anytime soon. And I'm certainly not ready to take on an apprentice. You’re not a warrior."

  "I am a warrior. I practice with Lord Hark all the time.”

  “Then answer me this. Can you kill someone?”

  Alisander opened his mouth to answer, but the words wouldn’t come out. He wanted to say yes, but he’d never been in a position to kill anyone, so how could he answer that truthfully?

  "I could beg you," Alisander said quietly. "I'm desperate enough that I'd get down on my knees and beg you."

  "Never beg for anything. Especially not to a Mercenary."

  "I have some coin saved."

  "Not enough to hire my services. Mercenaries are expensive, and you're a tad too young to have that kind of blunt."

  He turned away, and it was then that Alisander saw the elaborate tattoo detailing his back. From the hairline at the base of his neck, down his spine, a black tribal mark of intricate circles and jagged lines marred his skin. Words formed the outline of skeletal wings spread wide, the appearance of molted skin falling from the inked bones. The words were illegible to his eyes, but Alisander knew they had to be the ancient language of the Mercenary Guild denoting his place as a warrior. Alisander grabbed Cax’s arm, stopping him from dismissing him so readily, yet took a moment to memorize the brand, wondering what it said.

  “What?” Cax asked calmly.

  The boy pulled his stunned eyes away and looked into Cax’s blue eyes. "I can't let this one chance of mine go. Surely you understand, surely you've been in a situation that was no longer bearable!"

  Cax plucked off the hand. "Destiny has many hands, Ali, and yours is an easy fit. Take the one it dealt you."

  "No."

  Cax narrowed his eyes again and placed his hands on his hips. "Stubborn."

  "You've no idea how stubborn I can be."

  Cax took a step closer, and once again Alisander felt himself breathing in the heady scent of the Vermundir warrior in front of him. He closed his eyes on a ragged sigh, feeling his heart stutter out of control and his body heat up almost unbearably. He wanted so badly to run his hands up Cax’s body, over the hard pecs to see if his tanned skin was as smooth and silky as it looked.

  “I could force you to tell me why you want to leave,” Cax murmured.

  “You could probably force me to do a lot of things,” Alisander whispered. “I don’t know why I want you so much. I’ve only ever wanted one man…”

  He trailed off as Cax bent over and sniffed his neck. And then he shuddered as he felt a tongue lick over the pulse point that showed how frantically his heart pounded.

  “Lord Hark?”

  “Damn you,” Alisander whispered. “Yes.”

  Cax then trailed his tongue up his chin until he flicked the corner of his mouth. The simple graze was more erotic than all of his back alley fumblings with boys his own age. Cax was all male, and sexier than any one person had a right to be.


  Cax wasn’t done licking, however. His tongue ran over Alisander’s cheek until it reached the lobe of his ear, and then he took the fleshy part between his teeth and gently bit.

  “Do you know what I want to do with you, young Ali? I want to fuck you. There’s something about you that makes my cock so hard all I can think about is sinking into your body as you come all over my hand.”

  “Oh, God!” Alisander moaned.

  “Is that a yes? Tell me yes, Alisander. Tell me you feel as I do, that you want me to possess your body.”

  “Y-yes.”

  Chapter Three

  Cax couldn’t seem to stop himself. One scent of Alisander’s skin drove all of his instincts into overdrive, and it shocked him that he actually thought about taking him as a companion, as an apprentice. This young man brought out all sorts of primal instincts.

  He claimed Alisander’s lips with his own, thrusting his tongue into his mouth in an effort to learn the taste and texture of his young lover. Ali twined his arms around his neck and gave as good as he got.

  Cax’s hand moved down, into the loose waistband of Ali’s pants, to grasp Alisander’s hardened shaft. He encircled it with his fingers, using his palm to create friction up and down, massaging the underside of the mushroom head, squeezing and pulling. It seemed to drive Alisander wild, and before Cax understood what was happening, Alisander’s hand slid inside his own pants to grip his shaft as well.

  “You’re so big,” Alisander breathed, his warm breath tickling against his mouth. Cax licked him again before kissing his plump lips.

  They pumped each other, pre-cum tipping both holes, and it seemed like whatever he did, Ali soon reciprocated. It was hot and frantic, and Cax felt the release boiling through his sack.

  “I want to be so deep inside you,” Cax murmured between kisses.

  Alisander just moaned.

  Cax untied Alisander’s pants, and gravity pulled them down. Ali kicked them away, and then he lay down, thighs spread wide. Cax removed his own pants before he positioned him, bringing Alisander’s legs up to his shoulders, giving him access to stretch him first. He spat on his fingers and also used the clear fluid leaking out of Ali’s tip for lubrication. First one finger and then another, loosening the ring of muscle.

  “Relax for me, Ali,” he ordered roughly. He just wanted to sink in and drive them both to the pinnacle of release. It had been so long since he felt this amazing heat, and all he wanted to do was revel in it, lap it up, until the flames consumed them both.

  “I want you in me now,” Alisander panted, reaching for him.

  And then he was sliding in, sliding deep. Oh, stars, it felt like home. Chest to chest, heart to heart. Their hands roamed over every valley and ridge of muscle, teasing, tickling, adding to the pleasure their bodies were evoking.

  They moved as one, moaning their rapture as they spiraled higher and higher. Cax couldn’t help himself and nipped at Alisander’s neck, loving the feel off the warm skin in his mouth. Biting was his turn-on, and it seemed Alisander liked it, too, as he undulated fiercely under him.

  Oh yes, he wanted Alisander as his companion. Of course, he would have to set Alisander down and explain what that meant. But there was no way he was going to leave Eyvindar without Alisander. He may have been reluctant at first, but not now, not after having his first taste of the younger man.

  He kept thrusting into Alisander’s tight depths as he reached between their bodies to grab hold of Ali’s cock. He pumped, from base to tip, over and over until Alisander cried out and flung back his head. Warm seed pulsed between their bodies, and the sight of him, head back, chest out, made Cax’s breath catch. He felt his own seed boiling in his sack, felt his balls draw up, and then he climaxed so hard he saw stars.

  Cax rolled until he was lying next to Alisander and they both lay panting. What in all the blazing fires of the underworld had he experienced? What was this wild feeling that was making him so out of control?

  “That was incredible,” Alisander whispered.

  Cax sat up, swung his legs over the side, and grabbed his clothes. He didn’t want to leave his warm bed, especially with Alisander’s naked body ready to be ravished again, but he was here for a mission and he had to keep to his schedule.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I have a meeting.”

  “In the dead of night?”

  Cax stood and buttoned up his pants before leaning down to give Ali a lingering kiss. “My job often requires dead of night business meetings.”

  “Will you be careful?”

  “I’m always careful,” Cax told him. He grabbed his tunic and doublet and began to dress quickly. “Will you be here when I return?”

  Alisander sighed. “I would like to, but I must return to my own duties in the castle.”

  Cax ran a hand over Ali’s cheek. “You still wish to go to the Mercenary Guild with me?”

  “I do,” Ali whispered hopefully.

  “Very well. When my job here is done, we shall go together.”

  The smile that lit up Alisander’s face made Cax’s blood heat and his shaft fill once more with need. Only one time and already he wanted him again. Never, in all his years, had he thought to find someone to share his life and travels with, and to find this desire in a younger man, well … life was perplexing at times.

  ****

  They left together, and from the dark shadows of the night, Cax watched Alisander make his way through the streets. Cax pulled his collar up as he followed, silent and deathlike. It was the job of a Mercenary to be inconspicuous and yet be aware of every motion, every move that anyone made, and Cax was able to count each breath the young man took. When he’d first met him, he thought Ali might be a valuable commodity to have, given his position in the castle, but everything was different now. He wouldn’t use Ali like that. He couldn’t, which wasn’t very smart because a Mercenary wasn’t above using someone to fulfill his contract.

  Pushing aside his confusing thoughts and disturbing feelings, he disappeared off the main walkway and down a dark side alley. He became the shadow he walked in. Further down another man waited. His shoulders stooped as to appear shorter, his clothes worn and dirty to blend into the murky street. His head bowed as he waited.

  Cax stepped from the shadows into the pale moonlight and eased up next to the man. He leaned against the damp stone wall, and rested his head back. “Fancy a turn, mister, for a bit of coin?”

  The man levered one squinted eye at him. “I’m waiting for someone.”

  “I know,” he answered. “Me. So, do you have my coin?”

  The man didn’t say anything as he ran his gaze up and down, measuring. “The money will be in your hands when it’s over.”

  The momentary silence sealed the deal.

  “What habits bring him into the open?”

  The man shifted his eyes to a patch of muddy water on the ground before him. “He never fears walking amongst his people.”

  “Then his vulnerability is incessant. A stumbling louse or just a foppish fool?”

  The question was ignored. “His only vulnerability rests with the drink he consumes.” From somewhere inside his overcoat he produced a dark glass wine bottle. He held it out, and Cax took it. “Hark is not the type of man who is bested easily.”

  Cax sniffed the empty bottle. “Yet you still hired me.”

  “You know why I hired you.”

  “Yes, yes, I do.” Cax pushed away from the wall. “Gods willing you’ll never see me again.”

  “You’ll have no trouble spotting Hark. He wears the insignia of Eyvindar upon his doublet.”

  “A sun cresting over a mountain range.”

  “He is proud.”

  “Yes,” Cax murmured, his voice already fading as he walked away. “His weakness will be my focal point. That is why you hired me. Right, Governor Elric?”

  The Governor did not respond, but he did not need to. Cax had already returned to the shadows.

  Chapte
r Four

  Hark opened his bloodshot eyes slowly, his mind having a difficult time realizing that the dawn was inching its way across the vaulted ceiling. His blinked to clear the fuzzy picture and groaned, as dry eyes burned awake. His arms stretched, his leg shifted, and an empty bottle thudded onto the carpeted floor.

  Hark pushed himself up on his elbows, and lingering pain rolled through his stomach. He took a deep breath and rested for a moment to let it subside, and then he frowned at the bottle. He wasn’t so much annoyed that the bottle had managed to roll out of reach as by the fact he was now out of the hard liquor. Again. He made a mental note to stop by Poro’s establishment.

  A yawn hit him as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His foot hit the bottle, and it rolled even further away, coming to rest at halfway under a chair. Hark promptly forgot about it as he rose to start preparing for the day, scratching the scar on his belly as he plodded to the lavatory to relieve his bladder.

  He squinted as he gazed at the open balcony where the sheer drapes blew in the slight morning breeze. Chill bumps rose on his skin as he washed his hands in the clean stand water near his mirror. He took a moment to study his reflection, noticing the dark circles under his hazel colored eyes and the haggard pull to his mouth. There was a permanent crease between his eyes, one that had not been there a year ago, and he raised a hand to rub the spot, smoothing the skin so that the crease was no longer there. But once he took his hand away it returned as the first sign of age.

  Hark turned from the mirror and moved to dress quickly, trying to forget that at five and twenty summers he shouldn’t have to worry about age.

  The castle was coming alive. Servants were bustling around with their various duties, each bowing in respect as he passed them in the halls as he made his way to the breakfast room. His uncle, Governor Elric, was already seated with his standard fare of spiced java, ham, and eggs in front of him.

 

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