Wolf Moon Part 8

"Aragon." Wufei announced as he, Duo and Heero stood atop a hill and gazed down at the dusk-shrouded town.

The main street extended south to north, a second street intersected midway up from west to east. From their elevated observation point the town's layout resembled a cross aglow with pale yellow light.

Most of the shops had closed for the evening but wavy reflections from a billowing fire, the stench of hot metal and the clink, clink, clink of a hammer told the recently arrived travelers that the blacksmith was hard at work.

At the adjacent livery stable an adolescent boy with curly brown hair used a hayfork to toss fodder to five horses. An older boy, who was unmistakably the younger male's brother, poured a bag of grounded oats along a wide planked feeding trough.

With a muffled growl, a brown terrier dug and rooted under the trough to ferret out any vermin that had also come to dinner.

The older brother draped the empty bag over an interior railing and rubbed his hands together to clean off the grain dust. "Come on Bear." he called to the excavating canine whose front paws were throwing gritty soil in all directions.

Stubbornly the ratter kept to his task. More dirt flew then the terrier snarled and lunged forward. As quickly as Bear's head disappeared into the hole, he backed out with a long, gray rat as his prize.

"Good dog." Bear's master praised.

As the shaggy terrier pranced proudly around with his quarry, the younger boy secured the back gate and took his rough wool topcoat from a support post. Followed by their four-legged hunter with a mouthful of limp rodent, the brothers started home for their own version of supper.

*********

"Have you any vacant rooms?" Wufei inquired.

The Lords and Ladies Tavern barkeep dried a stoneware plate and stacked it in a freestanding cabinet. "Two, with one bed each. Want em both?"

"How much?"

"Twelve shillings. Six more for a bath."

Wufei frowned as he mentally figured his and Duo's limited monetary resources. He knew Heero had money but the Tracker had already brought their midday meal from the Gypsies and he would not ask him to also purchase a night's lodging.

He counted out the proper payment. "One room and send someone to light the fire under three tubs." he ordered then added eight more shillings before pressing the money into the man's calloused hand.

The barkeep eyed the coins. He rested an elbow on the bar, leaned closer and nodded over at Heero and Duo sitting at a table. "Want me to keep hushed about the sleeping arrangements?" he winked as he gave the Oriental the key.

"The extra is for supper and don't water down the ale." Wufei warned.

Roast pork, boiled potatoes seasoned with leeks, biscuits and butter and undiluted drinks were a satisfying supper and the prospect of a hot bath made the meal much more enjoyable.

*********

The Twilight trio trudged up the wooden stairs to find the fifth door down the hall.

The room was small but the accommodations were better than the previous night spent in a stable festooned with dusty cobwebs. Although the double bed would be a bit crowded, it was preferred to moldy straw and old blankets that smelled like horses.

"You take the bed; I'll sleep on the floor." Heero stated as he untied his bedroll.

Duo studied a moment then decided that the close sleeping arrangements wouldn't be so bad. "We can fit."

Heero disagreed. "I won't wake up with a crick in my neck."

Reluctantly Duo accepted the Tracker's logic concerning the bed's lack of space. "Knees in the back wouldn't be too restful but a bath is an excellent idea."

*********

Six tin tubs lined the bathhouse wall opposite the door. Three tubs had been filled and their fireboxes banked to hold the heat. While Duo secured the latch for privacy, Wufei stoked each fire to assure the water would stay hot during their baths.

Heero propped his crossbow against the nearest tub and began to undress. Wufei rested his sword on the next tub and unbuttoned his shirt. Duo unlaced his trousers then wiggled his hips to slither out of the form-fitting material.

There was no hesitation among the disrobing men. Soon outer garments lay in individual piles on the floor. Matching silver crosses gleamed in the amber lamplight.

Their breechcloths did remain in place, not out of modesty but for protection against any ailments that might have been left behind by prior patrons.

Heero paid no particular attention to his comrades' near nudity nor did Wufei take a second glance but Duo didn't waste the opportunity to inspect the Demon Tracker's strong shoulders, flat stomach, well-developed biceps, thighs that could crack a walnut and firm buttocks that resembled golden melons.

Also, when Heero raised his leg to step into his tub, the skimpy strip that supported the Tracker's manhood slid aside and granted the Irishman an alluring glimpse of the amply anatomy.

Swishing water was the only sound as the bathers used hard-milled soap to scrub off dust, sweat and traces of blood from under their fingernails. Hair washing for Heero and Wufei was accomplished with a simple lather and rinse but Duo had to invest considerable effort in the cleansing of his unbraided auburn mane.

After working up frothy bubbles Duo spent several minutes massaging aloe oil scented with rosemary down to the roots. The distribution of suds along the lengthy stands used up another five or six minutes followed by triple dunks. Finally Duo stood in the tub and wrung out as much water as he could from the dripping tresses.

As fascinated as Heero was with Duo's intricate shampooing process, he found himself captivated by the way the water rippled over Duo's lean frame, how the droplets glistened on his creamy skin and how his soaked breechcloth left little to the imagination.

Unfortunately the triple fires had died down. Chilly air on damp skin prodded the Tracker and his Twilight companions to swiftly dry off and dress. It was a shame to attire clean bodies in garments speckled with road dust and stable muck and boots smeared with daywalker slime but no one had a second change of clothes.

Duo swathed his shiny hair in a towel then wrapped it around his head. An amused smile pulled at Heero's lips as Duo's improvised headdress reminded him of the painting of a strange man called a sultan that hung in his home's front hall.

Back in their cramped quarters, Heero pulled off his scarred boots, stretched out on his bedroll, made certain his crossbow with within easy reach then tucked his cloak around his body. Duo sat on the bed's side and Wufei, his damp hair slicked back in a ponytail, sat cross-legged behind him.

First Wufei ran his fingers through Duo's hair to separate the larger tangles then carefully guided a wide-toothed comb craved from bone from Duo's crown to the waist-length tips.

The combing out continued at a painstakingly slow pace but the Oriental's patience was finally rewarded when his fingers slipped smoothly through the silky locks. With equal care Wufei plaited and tied off the finished braid with a red ribbon that was tattered on both ends.

There was no casual conversation during the detangling and the braiding. The only sounds were occasional footsteps in the hall, muted voices and doors opening and closing. Outside a tree limb scraped against the tavern's wall or was it a restless spirit begging for admittance?

Heero curled under his cloak facing the door, the habit of constant vigilance was too ingrained to fall asleep any other way. Duo pulled up the cotton coverlet and snuggled close to Wufei in their usual platonic sleeping arrangement of the Irishman on one side and the Oriental's sword on the other side.

No moonlight shone through the dingy curtains. The sky was inky and the stars, like blue-white diamonds strewn across the ebony infinity, shimmered with polished luster. When the lamp was extinguished night crept in, filled the corners and made a mystery of the formerly familiar room.

Soft breaths of slumber soon joined the insistent scraping in a nocturnal lullaby set to nature's ageless melody.

*********

The satyr stood upright on cloven hooves. Russet fur covered its haunches to just below the waist of its human torso and was dense enough to show only a hint of its well-endowed manhood. The man-goat had large brown eyes and a strikingly handsome face despite the twin ribbed horns that curled from its head.

Satyrs were typically docile beings that spent their days sleeping and their nights drinking, dancing, playing the flute and satisfying their sexual desires by seducing nymphs and bewitching women but there was an evil air about this creature.

Normally soulful eyes were cold. Sleek fur bristled into stiff spikes. Sparks flickered as the splayed hooves scraped over glossy volcanic rock.

A slender finger tipped with a two-inch claw beckoned, "Come to me." the Sylvan deity growled.

"Don't listen!"

The beguiling beast slunk closer. A sneer drew back its leathery lips to expose long fangs drenched in frothy saliva. "Come." it cooed in a deceptive honey voice.

"No! Can't you see?"

"An angel...I see an angel."

"Look away."

"I hear a flute...beautiful music."

"Hear the deception in its voice, tis the devil that calls."

"You have no need to fear." the horned proclaimer of false promises declared.

One long fingernail caressed a cheek; the claw sliced the skin until the cut oozed scarlet. The captivated man leaned into the devilish touch...his awestruck eyes held fast by the beast's hypnotic gaze.

"Ah pretty one, let me love you."

The mesmerized man's eyes closed. His nude body sagged in surrender as he was positioned in a submissive posture on his hand and knees. The satyr's hands forcefully gripped the man's hips and ten pointed thorns speared the flesh.

Eyes widened as the man's mind registered the pain. Breath was sucked in so hard in felt like his lungs would explode but his paralyzed body was unable to move. At the realization he was powerless to escape the brutal rape, panic seized his heart and threatened to stop its beating.

A thick, barbed penis snaked from it furry sheath and its rigid shaft aligned with the terrified man's unprepared anal opening. Bending over the satyr licked the man's bloody cheek, took a moment to savor the salty taste then his foul, hot breath whispered close to his ear. "Scream for me."

Without warning the penis harpooned passed the first ring of muscles that tensed against the nonconsensual attack then just as rapidly tunneled through the second tight ring.

An anguish wail was garbled by pleas to stop the forceful invasion. The shaft was pulled halfway back then rammed deeper until it slammed against the begging man's prostate.

The satyr pounded again and again. Sweat mingled with blood from rent flesh to drenched the man's ashen skin and run over his body in crimson rivulets that quickly pooled on the floor.

Each thrust was accented with the beast grunting in ecstasy and his victim screaming and beseeching the gods to save him or bargaining with the devil to trade his soul for a merciful death.

Then in a final, pitiful petition, the man's pain-glazed eyes beheld his comrade who was helplessly shackled to a wall and, by the breast's curse, was unable to transform.

"Shinigami," the man implored weakly as his life bled away, "kill me."

"HEERO!"

Duo's eyes sprang open. A startled gasp shook his entire body. His hands clutched the coverlet so tightly his knuckles went white and his fingers cramped. It took a moment for his sight to adjust to the moonless gloom and to recognize his surroundings. Another short measure of time crept by as he wondered from what bizarre dreamscape the horrid nightmare had been spawned.

Duo planted his hands on the bed and, with extra effort from arms that were still quivering, pushed to sit. With a heavy sigh he moped tangled bangs from his damp forehead.

"A dream, that's all it was." he whispered aloud hoping the sound of his voice would chase away any traces of memory that lingered in the dark dream's aftermath.

Suddenly the picture of the wild beast ripping Heero apart from the inside out burned in Duo's mind. Empathic agony tore through his gut causing him to double over in pain and bury his face in his hands to muffle the groans.

The noise and moving around stirred Wufei from his sleep. He squinted through frayed hair that had escaped from his ponytail. "Duo?" he questioned groggily.

Duo parted his trembling hands just enough to answer his concerned bedmate. "Heero...dreaming...awful." was all he could say before another sharp wave crashed over and brought him to the verge of fainting.

"Hold on." Wufei urged as he supported Duo so he wouldn't pitch off the bed.

During the six weeks Duo and Wufei had been following the Heero and unbeknownst to him, Duo had shared the Tracker's dreams and had begun to forge an intuitive link.

Duo's mental connection had been employed to stave off the macabre visions and hellish hallucinations that past events had etched on the Tracker's memory. With each dream Duo had felt the fear and suffered from the utter loneliness that was leaching out Heero's humanity.

Over time some progress had been made. A degree of trust had been established but Duo had never been able to fully breach the barrier Heero had erected to guard his emotions.

Now the last obstruction between Heero's soul and Duo's desire to save him had been shattered in a single sadistic second. The wailed entreatments to heaven and hell for release from his excruciating torment echoed in Duo's ears and the acute pain wasn't merely remembered but real.

Heero flailed about on the floor, legs jerking and hands fending off the demon attacker. His pallid face mirrored the same stabbing pain Duo was experiencing. Sweat beaded on his skin and made his clothing stick and bind.

Duo gritted his teeth, ignored his own weakness and, with Wufei's help, slid off the bed and crawled to Heero's side. A tentative touch produced a bone jarring contortion so strong Duo was afraid muscles would be torn or joints dislocated.

To avoid the waving appendages Duo wrapped one arm around the Tracker's bowed body and settled his full weight across Heero's chest. Wufei straddled Heero's legs, grabbed his knees and bore down as hard as he could, even if it meant breaking a bone.

With his free hand Duo brushed hair from Heero's face so he could see his tightly squeezed eyes.

"Heero." Duo stroked his cheek, "Hear me. Dammit let me in."

Duo closed his eyes, forced his mind to move outside the pain and centered his concentration. He had to utilize every means to overrule the demon's authority and regain control before Heero slipped beyond reclaiming.

Leaning nearer to Heero's ear, Duo began to chant in the sacred dialect of Twilight. The isolation of valleys and the remoteness of mountains had kept the ancient language pure.

The mysterious mantra had been passed down from priest to priest for thousands of years. The tongue was strange but there was no vagueness in the meaning for either Heero or the Demon Master's disciple whose duty was to destroy the Warrior of the Rose.

Prayers were repeated, softly whispered but clearly heard. Gradually the nightmarish web woven around Heero's heart was made threadbare not only by the power of words but by the bond of love.

"Feel my touch." Duo ordered then sealed his lips over Heero's mouth and delivered the Kiss of Forgetfulness.

Immediately Heero responded to the tender persuasion. Taut muscles relaxed, breathing evened out and eyelids fluttered. First a hint of cobalt then his eyes opened fully.

With an expression painted over in confusion Heero asked. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"That I dreamed but I can't recall any details."

Wisely Duo decided not to disclose his part in Heero's hazy recollections. He sat over on his hip and let out a relieved sigh. "Dreams have a habit of slipping away."

Heero stretched his shoulders then winced as he struggled to sit up. "I'm sore. I feel like I've been dragged behind a horse."

"Perhaps the floor doesn't make a good bed after all." Wufei stated.

Duo slipped his arm around Heero's waist, Wufei offered his hand. Together they eased Heero to his feet, guided him to the bed, scooted him to the middle and encouraged him to lie down.

The Irishman and the Asian flanked the Tracker. Wufei frowned, pulled his sword from under his butt, smoothed out the coverlet and strongly suggested that they settled down to sleep.

When Wufei was sure Heero was soundly asleep he whispered to Duo. "Are you all right?"

"I will be."

"Judging by the frequency and increased severity of Heero's dreams, I'd say we're making the Lord of Darkness anxious."

"I'll continue my intercessions." Duo vowed, "And together the quinque will properly vex the soulless bastard until we send him back to hell."

TBC...

 

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