Stigmata

by L M Adams

  I do my best to concentrate on my task. Sewing crocodile hide using a knife and plant fiber is hard. I have to punch small holes into the thick skin, thread the rough fiber through the holes and tie it off… again and again and again. It has to be tight to hold the water, the fewer gaps between the punctures is best, but you can’t be too close that you rip the hide unevenly.

  Sweat beads on my forehead, running down my face to sting my eyes. I’m fucking miserable, Blood King help me – I’d rather a night with Némion than another day here.

  “God, it’s hot,” I finally groan low, trying not to disturb Lucien.

  Jaevia is working on splitting the dates and taking out the seeds. She wants to plant them before we go, to give more than we take.

  She smiles at me and her eyes begin to sparkle and deepen to a bit bluer of a hue than purple. I feel the temperature drop a bit and sigh with relief.

  “I remember when I could do that,” I can’t help but grumble.

  “You probably still can, you just have to practice,” she tries to encourage me. “She’s not as strong in the daylight hours, she respects Ra’s domain.”

  But I don’t feel Neoma any longer, she has forsaken me, and I just have to find a way to deal with the rejection. I shake my head and focus my efforts on my work.

  I promised to try.

  69

  Jaevia

  The sun leaves its zenith and we’re almost ready to go. Some part of me will be sad to leave our little camp. But if we don’t get Jack back to some sort of civilization, he just may have a nervous breakdown.

  Both Lucien and I notice his determination to hide how fucking miserable he is… but we know our husband.

  I’m down in the water, filling the waterskins as Lucien stands above me ready to take them and load them onto the sled he’s fashioned. Jack is pulling up the meat from the cooking pit and packing it along with a fair portion of dates.

  Suddenly I have an idea, I hurry to finish filling the last of the waterskins and handing them up to Lucien. He holds down his hand to help pull me from the water.

  “You have a devilish look about you, Wench.”

  I just smile and give him a saucy wink.

  “Jack!” I call out, he turns to me, looking ridiculously cute in his leaf weaved hat, “Bring the seeds, I want to plant them before we go.”

  We find a nice bit of land, close enough to the oasis. I kneel and motion for Jack to join me. We dig into the sand and earth mixture with our bare hands a few feet from one another.

  “Just put the seed in the dirt?” Jack sounds confused.

  “Yes,” I smile over at him, “give it a bit of water and cover it up, hmm?”

  He nods and goes back to digging, “This is the first time I’ve ever planted anything.”

  I chuckle low, “You know the trees are males and females.”

  He looks over to me in shock, “That’s a thing?”

  I nod, “With palm dates. The boy trees pollinate the flowers on the girl trees.”

  I point out the sheaths on the boy trees and explain those sheaths will split open and the wind will carry the pollen to the girl tree flowers.

  After planting a couple more seeds with him, I step back, letting him take over, he doesn’t even notice it.

  We aren’t planting crops to harvest or doing this with any exacting science. Hell, they probably won’t even grow. Yet he’s thoughtful about every spot he chooses before planting the small date seeds.

  Lucien comes to wrap an arm around my shoulders, “His aura is much better.”

  I nod humming, “He is a son of Isis, a son of Gaia, the mother of the earth – one day he will remember how to live without the pain – one day he will remember how to love himself.”

  “Aye, Wench, we shall help him.”

  Jack finishes his work, careful to water each one of the seedlings and then goes to refill the waterskin. He may not miss this little piece of nowhere like Lucien and I will… but it will have a place in his heart – it was the first time he went to worship Gaia in her temple, and he never even knew it.

  We leave the Oasis of Sobek, giving more than we took. Stronger for it and more in tune with these lands.

  Lucien drags the sled behind him, packed with our shelter, broken down of course, our food, water, and his sword.

  Jack may hate the hat, but it keeps the sun from burning his face to high hell, and from him losing water through his scalp, threatening him with sunstroke.

  Lucien maps our course and we begin our trek out into the nothingness again. Every now and again I see Jack look back towards the trees. I want to know what he’s thinking, but I’m not sure he would understand why he suddenly has a connection to that place. Some things have to be worked out in your own heart before you’re ready to share an experience.

  Soon enough our steady pace takes us into the rolling golden sand dunes of the Sahara and out of sight of the oasis. I wouldn’t be able to find my way back if I tried.

  I’m left to wander in my thoughts as we wander through the desert. After our respite at the oasis, it’s not so miserable as before, and we don’t need to climb so many dunes for Lucien to get his bearings. Even Jack is keeping up easily, his breathing steady, his steps sure.

  We walk well into the evening hours and through the breaking of the eventide, we walk until the cold starts to become unbearable for Jack, and the strain starts showing through.

  Lucien finds a flat bit of land and a large bleached log, as old as the desert itself I’d hazard.

  Jack and Lucien start putting up the shelter while I collect a few of the old branches and some kindling so we can have a small fire.

  We settle in easily in our little camp, pure exhaustion making the sand feel like a million-dollar pillow top mattress. I lay out on a leaf mat, Jack is across from me on the other side of the fire, leaning back on the large bleached log. Lucien is kneeling beside the sled, taking stock of our provisions.

  He takes one of the smaller waterskins and hands it to Jack, urging him to drink more of the water. Jack turns it down.

  “I’ve had my share for the day,” Jack says, jaw set with determination.

  “Drink, or I’ll bend you over that log and spank your bottom.”

  Jack snatches the waterskin from Lucien, “Beat me if I don’t wear the hat, beat me if I don’t drink the water – I’m living under a tyrannical rule!”

  Lucien shrugs, “If this is the way you must see it. But if you disobey an order I give you, that is for your own safety, I will be within my rights as primary dominant to see you punished for it. I will however let you have your displeasing attitude due to your general ornery disposition during this trying time.”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “Ornery? Did you call me ornery?” Jack’s brow wrinkles with anger.

  “Aye, Bloodsucker,” Lucien grins, flashing strong white teeth. “Now drink or you’ll be getting that spanking, grumpy old man or not.”

  Jack sighs and pulls out the croc tooth we’re using as a stopper so he can take a drink. It’s easy to tell he needed it, once the water touches his lips, I can feel his body… his spirit becoming stronger.

  He starts to lower the waterskin.

  “More, Capaneus,” Lucien orders sternly.

  Jack takes three more large gulps and lowers the waterskin slowly, letting out a large belch.

  “Oh god,” he whispers embarrassed, I just laugh and laugh.

  “How much further?” I ask as I take the offered meat and a few dates.

  Lucien looks up to the sky, “Six days, maybe seven until we reach the edge of the Sahara. Another day or two to Me’tangua after that.”

  Jack sighs.

  I try to lift his spirits. “Not so bad. You traveled across Ra’suá with us Jack, you’re acting like you’ve never roughed it.”

  “I was distracted just trying to keep everyone alive. Here, I’m pointless and just stewing in my own misery.”

  Lucien begins to growl, “You
are not pointless!”

  Jack rolls his eyes in a very ‘whatever’ manner and it makes something in Lucien snap. I’ve never seen Lucien move so fast. Before Jack can react, Lucien is on top of Jack, has him flipped over the log and is pulling down his pants to around his knees.

  “Oh god Lucien no!” Jack screams.

  The answering whack to Jack’s bottom telling us both, begging will do no good.

  “Shut up!” Lucien demands and Jack quiets down to a gentle weeping as he gets his spanking.

  Lucien only gives him ten whacks – his bottom barely turning red. But that wasn’t the point, that wasn’t the point at all.

  When Lucien reaches between Jack’s thighs and grabs his hard cock, Jack begins begging again.

  “Don’t please, I’m embarrassed enough. I’m sorry, Lucien, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “Fuck my hand, Capaneus.”

  “Jae please!”

  “She can’t help you,” Lucien growls low.

  “Oh god, help me,” but he begins moving his hips, sliding his cock in and out of Lucien’s hand like a fucking dog. His muscled buttocks flexing and releasing as he chases pleasure.

  “You’d better lose that fucking pride or next I fondle the rose.”

  “Oh!” Jack cries out and his entire body begins to tremble.

  “I’ll let Jae see how you cry and come with my finger up your ass.”

  Jack grunts low and begins pounding his cock in Lucien’s hand like he means it. Soon a true moan of need leaves Jack as nothing else matters… nothing at all.

  “Oh I’m going to come, fuck!”

  “There it is, no more pride is there?”

  “No, Master, there’s no more pride.”

  “Now you know how to be obedient?”

  “Yes!” Jack screams.

  “Say please,” Lucien demands.

  “Please Master,” Jack groans, need filling his voice.

  “Very well,” Lucien gives him permission and he comes quickly, Jack always comes quickly with degradation.

  Lucien helps him pull up his pants after he’s done and brushes sand over Jack’s spent seed before urging him to sit back down. The large man guides Jack’s head to his lap gently, soothing him.

  “If you’re going to sit around feeling pitiful, I’ll give you something to feel pitiful about.”

  “Yes, Master,” Jack says immediately, caught deeply in subspace.

  Lucien looks me in my eyes, holding my stare. “You can both be angry at me for this predicament, hate me if you must. But you cannot, under any circumstances become pessimists. The sands will eat you up alive as soon as you let defeat enter your heart. This is will be hard and grueling for you both, but you will not give up, you will not disobey – not here! This is now law. Do you both understand me?”

  “Yes, Luey.” I nod.

  “Yes, Master,” Jack whispers.

  Lucien looks back down at Jack. “We love you, Capaneus, you will never be pointless. It angers me to see you think of yourself this way.”

  “I’m sorry, I say things… things that are in my heart, that I know shouldn’t be, but are… I’m sorry.”

  “It is nothing to be sorry over, it is something we must work on.” He sighs, “I should not have reacted in anger the way I did. Perhaps we both needed the release, I thank you for your submission Capaneus, it is precious to me.”

  I clear my throat looking at Jack’s peaceful profile, “Do you feel better?”

  Jack nods sighing, “I hate that I do.” He rolls onto his back, still with his head on Lucien’s thigh.

  “It’s okay.”

  “Well at least I didn’t lose my taste for depravity along with my powers.”

  Lucien huffs, I laugh, we eat.

  We sleep well, all of us exhausted… except for Luey, probably. Sleep claims me easily in the middle of nowhere. Goddess I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt this safe, this at peace.

  Perhaps this is my respite, have I served my goddess well and now she has finally taken pity on me?

  We sleep in our little palm leaf hut only for a couple of hours. Far too soon Luey is waking us up and we’re off walking again in the cold night air of the Sahara. That would be as miserable as the sun, if not for Lucien warming us by radiating out his power.

  Neither Jack nor I complain. Master has demanded we give him all that we’ve got – I don’t want to disappoint him, and I know neither does Jack.

  We walk, the same schedule, the same pace, every day, for four days. Our spirits don’t seem to waiver… Lucien won’t allow it.

  Luey tells us stories he transcribed as a child. Or Jack gives us tales from when he was a younger vampire and traveling the world. A comradery fills us and some part of us grows closer to one another. Perhaps as simple creatures, not as the eventide, not as kings and queen, just people sharing a struggle.

  On the morning of the fifth day I spot, far off, a massive red mountain. I stop to admire it. It almost looks like the stone and sand is on fire, a brilliant red and orange color shinning in the sun like a beacon calling me to it.

  “Milma wa kiyuroba,” Luey stops next to me.

  Jack stops next to Luey, “What does that mean?”

  Lucien hums as he tries to think of a close enough approximation, “The hill of the king that warms himself at the fire? Or… the burning king of the mountain. It’s a volcano.”

  “A volcano?” I whisper with longing, wanting to go check it out, I’ve never seen a volcano.

  “No you don’t, Wench. Sometimes curiosity kills the cat.”

  I pout, “Satisfaction brings her back,” whining a bit.

  “Not today it doesn’t.” He grabs my arm and yanks me forward.

  I give Jack an exasperating look as he just laughs and laughs.

  “It’s really not that far, Luey.”

  Lucien, being unreasonable, puts his foot down over the matter, but decides to appease me with a story of ‘milma wa kiyuroba’.

  “Long ago, when even the gods were still young, the first of the loved ones – the first men and first woman…”

  “There was only one girl?”

  “Wench…”

  “Okay,” I hush up.

  “The first of the loved ones gathered and made a place for themselves in the lands of the gods and knew of no hardships, no pain, no struggle. But in time the first of the loved ones wished for more. They wished for the majic of dance and laughter, they wished the majic of happiness; a majic they had heard of but had never known of themselves. A young boy saw the desire of his people, for even when you have all, you have little without joy. He listened deeply at the feet of the story tellers and heard of one tale – the tale of the first man who went to try and capture the heart of a god for with the heart of a god – you would know all things. The old man never returned, but it was always believed there was a way to bring the gift of joy to the people and with the heart of a god, surely the young boy would find out how. The young boy decided he would be the one to take on this mighty quest…”

  “They couldn’t just be happy?”

  Lucien sighs, “Jaevia, are you going to listen or are you going to talk through the story?”

  “Hush, Jae.” Jack chastises me as well.

  I huff, I don’t see what’s wrong with asking questions, but I do as I’m told and hush up.

  The young boy walked for sixty days and thirty nights – don’t even ask me how the fuck that works. And came upon the mound of Bast, which they called the…

  “… fiery tit? That’s what they called the volcano?”

  “I swear if you interrupt me again, I won’t tell the story at all.”

  “Jae!” Jack barks, one rabies shot from going full Cujo on me (horrifying movie), “it makes the time go by faster when he tells the stories, don’t ruin it for me. I’m miserable enough.”

  I wave a hand, signaling I’ll hush up. Jack slips me a sweet date as an apology, or a thank you, or just something to keep my mouth busy. I shr
ug and suck on the juicy tidbit, mollified slightly.

  The young boy on the quest for the heart of a god finally arrives at the flame titty after walking sixty days but only thirty nights. There he finds burning rivers running down the mountain like weeping tears. In this place there is a blackness that covers the sky and there are no stars, no sun, no sky above.

  In this place the very air would burn his lungs, but he would not give up. He wrapped a cloth around his face and began the climb up the burning mountain… or titty… depending on your translation.

  The stone of the mountain was black, black as the pits of the darkness that never knew light. The ground burned his skin, and nothing grew, nothing at all… except a tree, one old tree that jutted out the side, sitting on a cliff. Old and rickety, blanched pure white like the tusks of the mighty oliphant with not a leaf or flower at all. It seemed to live in defiance of its surroundings.

  Yet the boy saw life in the face of the great mountain and surely, that would be where he found the heart of a god; and so, he climbed, and he climbed, and even further still he climbed. Long after his muscles were weary, his hands and feet bloody, he still climbed always looking to the tree, the tree that could give him the secret of joy.

  The great mountain would rumble and tremble, as if it would shake the boy loose, only to keep him from reaching the secret of joy. But still the boy clung on, even laying on his belly and pulling himself along the burning ragged edges of the mountain if he had to.

  He thought he would never reach that tree, yet he refused to give up, no matter what, and soon… soon his sacrifice paid off. He stepped onto the cliff that jutted out and screamed with triumph, cried with happiness… he had reached the tree and with it came the understanding.

  “There can be no joy without pain?” I ask quietly and Lucien nods.

  “True joy comes from overcoming challenges, reaching goals – it is not a thing that can be given, it is a thing earned after hardship, or struggle… after a hard day’s work, or a long night of sadness.”

  “But how could he bring this to his people?”