Brynnan: The Alsar Imperative

The Valley of the Shadow

Dronnadh approached Lady Alyssa’s cell. Three of his Alsar brothers awaited him.

“Greetings, Nijal, Ruah, Azander,” Dronnadh said.

“So, you plan a deep reading on the Lady’s mind?” said Nijal.

“The Prince needs to know—”

“—the extent of her plots,” finished Nijal. “I have brought my kit. If you don’t relish this task, I have drugs.”

“It’s not one I look forward to, but I’ll persevere,” said Dronnadh, sighing.

“What are you talking about? I demand to know!” Lady Alessa gripped the bars, staring apprehensively at the four men.

Dronnadh stated, “Prince Jehanadir will know your thoughts. You hide the truth from us, Lady, but you have a limited choice in this. Either I copulate with you and deep-read your mind, or Nijal Silver-hand uses drugs to compel you to talk.”

Alessa’s face whitened. “This is barbarous!”

“No,” said Ruah. “What is barbarous are your plots against the Prince—and others. I have heard the evidence against you. Azander and I are here as witnesses and to prevent you from further mischief.”

“State your choice, Lady,” said Dronnadh implacably.

Alessa’s eyes darted frantically, then she steadied herself and stared at Dronnadh. “I choose you, Guardian. The sexual act is something I know, and don’t think I am helpless. I don’t trust your surgeon and his potions!”

Nijal turned to the woman sitting outside the cell assigned to attend to Alessa’s needs. “Madame Ausari, will you excuse us? You don’t need to see this.”

“Of course, Guardians.” She arose from the divan, putting away her handiwork. “I will be in the adjoining chamber.”

After she had left, Azander locked the outer door and opened Alessa’s cell door.

Dronnadh held out his hand to her. “Come, Lady, let us begin.”

*    *    *

Dronnadh and the other three Alsar met with the Prince in his private audience chamber. With him were his boy, Shahin, the Warlord, and Brynnan Marec Mavrenn.

Dronnadh began, “The Lady Alessa is a cunning individual and sought to mislead me during the sexual act, but she was unprepared for my deep-reading of her mind. Her plots are both improbable and dangerous. She planned to have Shahin kidnapped and held at ransom, using the poisoned pin to render him helpless.”

“How could they spirit him away?” said Jehanadir. “The garden surroundings had guards, and she would have to move him a substantial distance.”

“Apparently, her husband’s bodyguard was nearby, ready to do just that. But even Alessa was not informed of the means,” the Diviner responded.

Jehanadir said, “That man’s role is becoming more significant. He must have a system—or even powers—of which we know nothing. He must be found. Surely the Alsar can trace him?”

“His mind is dark to us,” said Nijal.

But Azander looked troubled. “I am beginning to suspect he has resources outside of our knowledge. Who is he? He could shield his mind, and he sensed Brynnan’s presence on at least one occasion. These are traits more akin to our own race or to a trained adept who has contact with the spirit world. I think …”

“Go on,” the Prince urged as Azander paused.

“It’s mere speculation. I’m reluctant to throw my conjectures into the mix. They are unfounded and may just confuse us more. Let me think on it for a while longer.”

“Very well, but don’t delay too long,” said the Prince.

Dronnadh interrupted, “There is more, my Lords. I believe the ultimate target in this realm is yourself, my Prince. Just killing you would give them no profit unless Senarica plans to invade us, as your death would destabilize our city-state. The Patterns are starting to show another disturbing possibility, though.”

“What else could they want, my Prince? “ asked Shahin, turning to his lover.

Jehanadir’s brows drew together in anger. “I, and my land, hold a great mystery. Just as Dronnadh could deep-read Lady Alessa’s mind, I can read the mind and soul of my land during the Spring Divination. For any to control my realm as I do would indeed bring power to a usurper. A plotter could hope to accomplish that: by kidnapping you, my golden boy. I would give almost anything for your return except the control and understanding of Narib. But the plotters don’t know that.

Dronnadh added, “It is indeed possible. However, I found in Alessa’s mind another method to take your power. She wanted to seduce you, to get an heir from you, my Prince, kidnapping Shahin to force you into the act. If the child had the Gift, whoever controlled the child could control your land after first killing you.”

“Surely not, dear Lord. Do you really think that was Lady Alessa’s goal?” said Shahin, shock evident on his face.

“My friends, it has been tried before, but the plots were discovered early, and the persons responsible were put to death,” said the Prince. “I just have never told you, Shahin. But in light of these latest dangers and the effects of your disobeying me, putting us both at risk, I have decided to shelter you less. From now on, you will be informed of plots against me. It is part of why I invited you to this council.”

Shahin buried his head against Jehanadir’s chest. “I am so sorry, my Prince; I had no idea.”

“During the deep-reading of Alessa’s mind, my companions, Nijal, Azander and Ruah, were privy to our thoughts. They heard all and can attest to it,” said Dronnadh.

“And where do we go from here, Lords?” said Brynnan. “Decisions must be made.”

“I know what I would do,” growled Lord Samir. “The Lady’s plots alone would merit her death in Torrent Mountain. We do not know her standing with the Senarican Council or whether they are complicit, but despite the risk to relations between City-States, and the Pact, her treachery demands the most severe redress.”

“My dear Lord,” said Brynnan. “You are not wont to act on your emotions, and I choose to trust in your level-headedness. Besides, there is another reason to keep her alive besides politics. Her imprisonment may draw in her ally, Adelchis. I am more and more convinced that he plays his own game. He is a cipher that must be exposed.”

“Ruah has volunteered to keep watch with Madame Ausari if you agree, Prince Jehanadir,” said Nijal.

“I think Brynnan has the right of it. And Ruah may keep watch until our situation with the assassin resolves.” Jehanadir turned to the Warlord. “Can you live with that, friend Samir?”

Samir expression softened. “My Bard generally gives me good advice. To that end, I’ll temper my impulses.”

“But what now of your mountain journey, Jehanadir?” said Nijal. “Will you still risk it?”

Dronnadh answered first. “The Patterns show it as an inevitability. There is danger, but the very danger may become part of the solution. We all must take our places, like characters in a dramatic re-enactment. Mavrenn’s safety depends on it, and even the greater threat to our lands.”

“You are not just talking about the harp, I think,” said Azander.

“I am talking about her soul. That could pose a greater danger than even the threat to Narib,” Dronnadh replied. “And as for you, Lord Samir: look to your own Bard’s safety.”

There was silence in the room, then the Prince announced his intentions. “We shall leave in the morning. Our security will be in force. Our new Alsar visitors shall be with our personal guards, including some of your Deieros warriors, Samir. I shall be accompanied by Brynnan and my priests, and the old hunter Jorge, who, I understand, is a former assassin, shall attend us.” Jehanadir looked fondly at Shahin, “And you shall go with us too, as I promised. I dare not leave you behind. Azander shall guard you.”

Azander nodded and said, “I will keep him by my side, Prince.”

*    *    *

“Geraint will miss our departure,” said Brynnan to Lord Samir.

They curled up, naked, on the bed in their chamber. Brynnan lay on his side, his head on the Warlord’s broad chest. He kissed Samir’s nipple.

“Mmm ... our old Warrior is where he is needed,” the Warlord said. “He keeps his eyes out for Vieri’s tricks, and he’s out of the way of Adelchis, who is more likely to be here.”

“And Geraint is in Runemaster Bertholf’s company,” replied Brynnan. “He sent me a message. They have reconnected.”

“As long as he is not too distracted to perform his duty,” said Samir, smiling at the thought. Then Samir rolled to face the Bard. “And I intend to distract myself with you, dear heart.”

“I won’t complain,” grinned Brynnan.

Samir kissed him, stroking the Bard’s jaw, placing his mouth over his lover’s, and pushing his tongue inside. Brynnan surrendered to him, and for a time, there was silence except for their breaths as their kisses deepened. Then Brynnan moved his head to his Lord’s huge cock, already becoming proud and stiff. He licked and sucked the glans before taking as much of the shaft as he could manage. His skilled tongue brought Samir’s cock to full hardness.

“Get ready for me,” Samir breathed.

In response, Brynnan reached out for their bottle of lubricant, using it liberally on Samir’s cock and working its slippery length in his hand. He handed the bottle to the Warlord. “You almost don’t need it. You are dripping pre-cum.”

“I can fuck you dry if that’s your wish,” grinned Samir wickedly.

“No, no, my lover! I will accept the lubricant,” Brynnan replied and laughed.

Samir knelt above him and poured a stream of the lotion over his rectal opening as Brynnan lay on his back, hips raised. Then the Warlord used his coned fingers, fucking him with his hand. Brynnan closed his eyes.

“Play with yourself, Bard,” Samir ordered.

Brynnan took his cock in hand and began to masturbate. The slick, rigid staff felt warm in his grasp, and he pumped his fist up and down, jacking himself off. Samir paused and bent down to lick the precum off its tip, making Brynnan groan. The Bard could feel the head of his lover’s cock probing at the anal opening.

“Please, my lover . . .”

“That’s it, beg me to take you.”

“I plead, my Lord. Give me that rod in my ass.”

“In that case—” said Samir.

The Warlord gripped Brynnan’s firm buttocks, pulling his hips higher and making the love-chute more accessible. The head of his cock pushed at the slick portal, then entered. He held it there.

“Put yourself on my cock,” Samir ordered.

Brynnan shifted and pushed himself down on the embedding spear. He moaned in lust as he felt it go deeper, working himself back and forth on the shaft. “Have mercy, my lover,” he said.

Samir judged that he had tormented his Bard enough. He rammed his stallion’s cock in all the way, pumping steadily. “Keep using your hand. Jerk yourself off.”

Brynnan felt his ejaculation imminent and said so.

“Stop touching yourself. Don’t cum until I give my permission!” Samir instructed.

Brynnan felt he would die with frustration, but he knew better than to disobey. He gritted his teeth and held back as best he could.

“I’m going to breed your ass. Cum with me,” the Warlord said finally.

Brynnan held on for moments longer until he felt the surge of his lover’s semen filling his passage like hot lava. Only then did he let go, and the force of his orgasm made him shout. Cum spurted out and spattered his body with glistening pearls.

Samir knelt above him, panting, spreading Brynnan’s ejaculate over the Bard’s prone body with his hand.

“Thank you, dear heart,” Brynnan said as tears of gratitude shimmered in his dark eyes.

“We’ll just thank each other. Move over,” the Warlord said, then lay beside his lover, spooning himself against the Bard’s back and idly stroking his body.

“You will drink the Water of Life with the Prince? You are committed to this?”

“Yes. You know I don’t need it to travel to my Father’s kingdom, but I will use it to share in Jehanadir’s experience of his land. Maybe there are energies I can detect. The more aware I am, the more successful we are likely to be.”

“Let us pray that nothing goes amiss,” muttered Samir.

“You know that Dronnadh is expecting something. All we can do is be on our guard,” Brynnan replied.

“And, priests or no priests, my place will be close to you and the Prince, guarding your bodies—unless you choose to travel bodily to Annwn?”

“I’m still undecided. Let us see what the new day brings.”

“Indeed, dear heart. Now, let us sleep.”

*    *    *

Morning found them on the trail early. Mount Narib was not high, but the route was a winding one. Green woodlands covered the lower slopes, cut by falling streams. As Brynnan heard birds singing, he was aware of every nuance of sound. There was a harmony, to be sure, but he listened for any disturbance in that harmony, an off note perhaps, or silence where there should be none. Alsar Guardians surrounded Jehanadir, Dronnadh, Shahin, Samir, and himself, protecting them and their other guards from attack. Talk was minimal: Jehanadir had asked for silence from the men. Azander rode behind the Prince with Shahin at his side, and Jorge followed behind.

Minds were busy, however, and mental speech wreathed the Alsar. Dronnadh shared thoughts with Brynnan. Both concentrated in their own way upon the Patterns: Brynnan with the woodland sounds and the Diviner with the turn of leaves in the breeze and the evidence of birds.

As they climbed higher, Dronnadh sent a private message to Brynnan. ‘There is a disruption in the trail of life that surrounds us. Something does not fit. Do you sense it?’

‘I sense a note in the chorus of sound that is disharmonic. It tries to blend in, but it is off-key,’ Brynnan responded. ‘Can you locate its source?’

Dronnadh was silent for some moments, then sent, ‘Behind and to the left of us, behind even our rear guard.’

‘Does it get closer?’ Brynnan queried in his mind.

‘No, but that can change at any time. I will have Jaaved notify the other guards to be on the alert.’

Gradually, the trail led into the open, grassy expanse of the higher slopes. Scattered boulders created large groupings and slabs of red rock upthrust through the thin soil. Then the broad summit spread before them. The land fell away below them, disclosing fields, hills and woodlands.

“It looks so peaceful,” said Brynnan. “It should be easy to guard us, yet I trust nothing.”

The peace continued as Jehanadir and Brynnan mentally prepared themselves for what was to come. The two men would drink the Water of Life as the moon arose. The drink, made with water from a spring having its roots in the Underworld, also contained silver salts, herbs and a secret mix of chemicals. It was poisonous to any not of Jehanadir’s unique heritage, but Brynnan had consumed it before, during the nine-day Rite of Divination. His body had metabolized the poisons yet still allowed the Water to sensitize his mind and transform his perceptions.

Brynnan and the Prince knelt on the grass inside the confines of an open-floored tent, with four priests hovering around them. One read from a scroll describing the steps an explorer must take. There were many dangers besides the poison in the Water, traps an unwary spirit could fall into, but Jehanadir had repeated the Rite so often that he had memorized the entire scroll. The Prince only felt anticipation, troubled by an apprehension of things to come.

Outside, six Alsar Guardians surrounded the tent, along with the Warlord, and the other guards positioned themselves beyond them. To the side, Azander, Shahin and Jorge sat under an awning, awaiting nightfall. Shahin trembled slightly; worry for his lover consumed him. Azander, sensing it, placed his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Jorge, however, spoke softly of his travels but neglected to mention anything of violence in his attempt to distract the young dancer.

At last, it was time. The Prince’s tent lay open to the moon shining in through the flap. Dronnadh took the bowl containing the Water of Life from Eren, the head priest. The Diviner offered the silver bowl to the moon, and loose crystals submerged within reflected its light. Then he passed it to Jehanadir. The Prince drank deeply. He sighed and passed the bowl to Brynnan. As Brynnan consumed the Water, he felt the poisons trying to work in his body, but they were quickly metabolized. Then the two men stripped off their clothing.

The Bard could feel an alteration in his senses and allowed it to happen. Noises seemed more noticeable, his vision altered, and he felt intense sexual arousal. He looked at Jehanadir and noticed his erection. This time, instead of masturbating, the two men turned to each other, clasping their bodies close. As they kissed, they drew in each other’s breaths, and it seemed their spirits passed from one body to the other and back again. Brynnan lay on his back, allowing Jehanadir to mount him. The Prince’s stiff cock dripped copious pre-cum as he positioned it against the Bard’s anal portal, and his eyes gazed into his lover’s.

Brynnan sighed deeply as the rigid staff entered him. His senses were on fire, and every nerve ending tingled. He felt Jehanadir’s responding passion joined to his own. They fucked steadily, in no hurry to cum, immersing themselves in this new awareness, but eventually, the building ecstasy demanded release.

“Cum with me, Brynnan,” Jehanadir murmured. “Let us send our energies from this cone of power and into the universe. Then follow me.”

“I am with you, Prince; fuck me hard now.”

Jehanadir battered his cock into the Bard’s anus, grasping his thighs. Brynnan felt the tide rising in both of them, and when they ejaculated, he could not tell Jehanadir’s ecstasy from his own. His senses blasted outward, carried by the Prince’s inner awareness. Jehanadir slumped forward, unconscious, and Brynnan sent forth his spirit.

Thus, they were unaware of shouts beyond the tent as events combined, stretching to a breaking point. Dronnadh, eyes wide and staring into a vision only he could see, stepped outside.

Something in the air near them rippled, then it burst into the material realm before the Prince’s tent: the form of a man leaping towards the tent, sword raised. Time seemed to slow as the Alsar around them attempted to react in time, and Samir raced forward, but of all people, it was Jorge who intercepted the figure.

His body spun as time caught up with the moment, and his sword slashed against his opponent’s. There was a blinding flurry of blades, and suddenly Jorge froze. Blood trickled from his mouth as the assassin pulled his sword free. As the old hunter fell, his attacker turned and stepped towards the tent where Brynnan and Jehanadir lay.

“Adelchis!” Azander’s challenge split the air as he raced to the assassin. “It is I, Azander!”

Adelchis hesitated, no doubt considering if he could slay the Prince before the Alsar Guardian caught him. Then, with a snarl, he turned to face him, even as Samir placed himself before the tent’s entrance. Heedless of the danger, Nijal ran forward and seized Jorge. He lifted the bleeding body with seeming effortlessness and carried him out of where the fight occurred.

“Bring him here!” Dronnadh called to Nijal. The surgeon responded, carrying his burden inside the tent, and Samir helped Jorge to the ground.

Meanwhile, the ringing crash of steel against steel split the air as Azander and Adelchis fought. Adelchis was highly skilled and knew how to counter an opponent’s blade, but Azander pressed forward relentlessly. Eventually, their swords crossed and held, and Adelchis pushed his blade against the Alsar’s. But he could not withstand the incredible strength Azander displayed. He shoved hard against the assassin, and Adelchis staggered backwards. Before he could recover his footing, the Guardian plunged his sword into the assassin’s breast. Adelchis, in his death agony, tried to pull the blade free with his bare hands, but his strength left him. He fell to his knees, his eyes locked with Azander’s until the light faded from within. His body slumped to the ground. He was dead.

Azander knelt beside the still form, and to the surprise of Shahin and the attending Guardians and priests, tears trickled down his face. Dronnadh stepped up to him, going down on one knee and placing his hand on Azander’s shoulder.

“Your son at least died a quick death. You gave him the mercy of the blade,” the Diviner murmured in a low voice.

“I was not sure it was he until now. He shielded himself from me,” Azander responded.

“There will be time to grieve later. We need you now. Nijal needs your help with Jorge—the old hunter fades.”

Shahin ran up to them, anguish in his eyes. “Is Prince Jehanadir safe? Is it over now?”

Dronnadh looked at the youth with pity. “It isn’t over. Your Prince and Brynnan are now in danger. They are in the Valley of Shadow, and a mortal peril awaits them.”

*    *    *

To be continued . . .

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