To Discover His Truth

Of Rope And Ritual

In the early morning, the camp was disturbed by screams - horse screams. Men came running out of wagon and tent, naked but gripping weapons.

They saw a sight that made Geraint jerk to a sudden stop and yell, “Hold up!” The feathered stallion, Buino, had mounted Geraint’s mare Shade.

“That is all we need. A pregnant mare on our journey!” the old Warrior palmed his eyes with his left hand in exasperation, “The Good Spirits grant that she is not really in season, and this is but horse-play!”

Kyan answered him, “I think you hope in vain, friend Geraint, unless the mare is too old? He could smell her yesterday. He was making the stallion response with his upper lip. I thought you noticed.”

“I was preoccupied,” answered Geraint shortly, “and she is still fertile enough to foal, although there could be added risk.”

Nijal said, “We should reach the destination of our journey before the pregnancy becomes a burden to the mare, barring unforeseen delays.”

But Brynnan noted to himself that Eleni had already foreseen delays - if her prophecies had any truth to them.

“Winter is coming; we are short on grain, and Shade will need her food supplemented. If we have to allow time for extra grazing for the horses, we will really fall behind. If the foal is big-boned, Shade might have a difficult delivery. Just look at that stallion!” moaned Geraint.

“There will be traders on the road or farm steadings where they grow grain. We will manage, said Brynnan, “Unless, of course, you want to leave her here and take one of Kyan’s horses, if he is willing.”

“No!” exploded Geraint. “We have long been partners in both warfare and peace. I won’t leave her. That is settled!”

Nijal raised a meaningful eyebrow at the Bard and suppressed a smile. Meanwhile, Andri and Col stood together, talking and quietly laughing, expressing mischievous grins. Brynnan was pleased to see Andri acting his age. The boy’s friendship with Col seemed to be working in his favour.

“What’s done is done. Buino is not hurting the mare,” Kyan said, “I suggest we leave them to it. If anyone is brave or foolish enough to interrupt them, both horses will become upset and unmanageable. Rafe will keep an eye on them for us.”

The party dispersed except for Rafe and the two youths. Andri seemed to be explaining something explicit to Col, using suggestive hand gestures. They were still laughing. Brynnan smiled and turned to accompany Nijal to check on Grandmother Eleni in the wagon.

It did not need a blood test for Brynnan to tell that Eleni looked better. She still had dark shadows beneath her eyes, but the yellowness in the whites of her eyes was entirely gone, and her skin tone looked healthier. She smiled at the two men and took their hands in each of hers.

Nijal bent down and kissed her on the lips as one would do with a lover. “Ves’tacha, Beloved, And how do you feel this morning?”

“I feel good, my Nijal. Perhaps I will come to sit at the fire today and be with my men.”

“Your grandsons want to see you.”

“I want to see them, too – I want to see them married. We go down to the plains for our seasonal gathering, and Kyan and I will meet with the elders. My visions were ending, but last night I saw Rafe with a beautiful woman, who would be a comfort to me.”

“Your words are full of hope, Púridaia Eleni; I can hear the life singing in your veins,” said Brynnan. “I will meet you at the campfire. The weather is good, but you will need your cloak.”

Eleni looked at him. “That reminds me, tell your handsome friend I have what he needs. We will trade.”

Brynnan left the wagon and sought out Geraint. He was not in the tent or the clearing with the horses – Shade now grazed peacefully beside Buino.

He found Geraint near to the stream where he had the hammock strung. He was lying in it as it swayed slightly in the breeze and looked peaceful after his outburst earlier in the morning.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come say good morning, Brynnan m’lad.’’

“Eleni thinks you are handsome. She has what you need and will make the trade,” Brynnan said noncommittally.

“Well …yes. That’s good.” Geraint looked almost guilty.

“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know! Now am I going to greet you, or not?”

“No need to be testy, lad. Let’s do as we did yesterday. Only today I’d like you to remove your upper clothes. I like to touch your body.”

“Gladly.” Brynnan smiled and obliged. He stripped off his cloak, his woollen outer layer and the black silk shirt underneath to reveal his body, patterned as it was with swirling dark hair that covered his chest, stomach and lean, muscular forearms. He helped Geraint stand.

Geraint stroked the Bard’s body and sucked his nipples, the cool wind making them erect. “You look good enough to eat,” he said, “Especially since I trimmed your beard for you yesterday.”

Brynnan’s beard was back from being closely trimmed now to a soldier’s stubble, courtesy of Geraint’s belt knife.

“Mmm… “ said Brynnan, totally distracted by what Geraint was doing to him, “Now, let me greet and thank you.”

Geraint sat crosswise in the hammock while Brynnan got on his knees before him. As he took out Geraints’s cock and started to suck it, he became aware of a presence in the trees. He stopped sucking and called, “You may as well come out now, Andri and Col!”

The two youths ventured out with sheepish expressions. “We weren’t really spying,” said Andri.

“How did you know it was us?” Col ventured to ask.

“I have magical powers, like your Grandmother,” Brynnan replied shortly. ”What brings you to disturb my nightly feeding?” he asked, looking devilish.

Col took a step backward, but Andri nudged him in the ribs and said to Brynnan. “It’s morning, and it looked like Geraint was feeding on you earlier,” then he blushed at having given themselves away.

Geraint said sternly, “Are you looking for another thrashing, young man?”

Andri abruptly paled, “No Geraint, Sir, we came to ask you a question, but when we saw you, it just didn’t seem right to walk on over.”

“Well, you’re here now. Tell me your question.”

“You gave me permission to show my friendship to Col last night. Col and I, that is, wondered if you would show him how to do it? I mean, what you and Brynnan were doing. I tried to tell him when he… but I got too distracted. You are my teacher and Master. Will you not show him the right way to suck a cock?” Andri blushed again.

“That’s all? And you, Col. What are your customs?” asked Geraint.

“I am of age but not yet married. Therefore it is permitted.”

“Master Bard? Your thoughts?”

“If it is done with right-intent, to love and not to hurt, then yes.”

Geraint considered the two young men. “I will start on Brynnan here, and you, Col, see to Andri. Since I will be too preoccupied to talk, I leave it to the Bard. Then I’ll change places with him, and you two can change places as well.”

“Thank you, Master!” said Andri.

They began. Brynnan made Geraint sit in the hammock to suck him. He stood before the old Warrior and untied his breeches. Then he cursed softly and stripped them off, and the rest of his clothing, entirely, except for the red rope tied around his waist.

“I will probably freeze, but you need to see what Geraint is doing to me.”

Col unashamedly stared at Brynnan, “You are very pleasing to the eyes, Sir, like a well-proportioned del gry. But what about… forgive me, that is not my place to ask.”

“So, a Dark Horse am I?” Brynnan smiled, “Fair enough. As for the marks on my body, you are right. Don’t ask. Now attend what Geraint does to me.”

Andri, following Brynnan’s lead, had also stripped, and Col knelt before him. Col watched and followed the actions Geraint performed.

Geraint ran his hand over Brynnan’s flat stomach and loins.

“Normally, he would use two hands,” said the Bard, helpfully, which was obvious, given that Geraint’s right arm was in a sling.

Andri began an eye-roll but quickly caught himself. He was not used to Brynnan’s teasing attitude, especially after the terse and devastating experience they had just endured together at Redstone Holding. However, at that moment, Col took the young singer’s cock in his mouth and, following Geraint’s lead, started to play with it.

The old Warrior showed him how to lick and tongue a cock, take the testicles in hand and mouth, use his fingers in the ass to stimulate the prostate and how to swallow a cock to its root.

Col made a brave effort to deep-throat Andri’s cock but choked and coughed.

“Swallowing deep is a skill that needs practice. Don’t try all at once, but take it gradually, relaxing your throat muscles as you go,” Brynnan told him between gasps of pleasure.

When Brynnan was about to cum, Geraint pulled back so that Col could see. The cum splashed out over Geraint’s tongue before he took the Bard’s cock deep in his throat again and swallowed the remainder.

Andri had learned enough control from the old Warrior to time his own orgasm to match Brynnan’s. He gasped in ecstasy at the experience, stroking Col’s black hair before casting an adoring glance at his Master, Geraint.

They rested for a short time before trading places. This time, Geraint chose to stand while Brynnan knelt. He placed himself shoulder to shoulder with Col, so he could instruct him when Andri would be sucking his friend’s cock.

The Bard was a little concerned that he and Andri kneeling together in sexual service might remind the young man of his recent experiences as a captive. Still, Andri handled himself well, and it was he who kissed and reassured Brynnan before they started.

Brynnan recalled the night when they had first arrived at the Wanderer’s camp. “Nijal, don’t delay – please take this cursed collar from my neck!” he had begged the Guardian. Fortunately, Nijal had been able to remove it with little difficulty.

After being pierced and nearly killed with the Warlord Samir’s claw collar, Brynnan never wanted to feel another collar again. With a slight shudder, he silently cursed these flashbacks and realized that Geraint was speaking.

“Don’t try to keep pace with us, Andri, lad. Just keep in mind what you’ve been taught, and give Col a good time. If Master Bard here starts edging me, well… you can try to make young Col last but let things happen as they will.”

“Then I will be really quick with you,” Brynnan said.

“Just don’t you dare!” Geraint threatened, “I expect full service.” He playfully seized Bard’s hair and tugged it, hard.

Brynnan briefly rested his face against Geraint’s thick cock before kissing it gently. He ran the tip of his tongue all the way up and down the shaft, feeling grateful that he had his friends to support him.

So Brynnan gave full service, using both subtle and skilful techniques. He repeatedly delayed Geraint’s orgasm until, feeling the old Warrior’s legs shaking from the sexual tension, he had mercy, swallowing every drop of cum that was shot down his throat. Col had succumbed to his own orgasm beforehand and had spent the last little while watching the older men with awe. Andri stood beside him with an arm around his friend’s waist.

After that excitement, Col profusely thanked Geraint and the Bard. The four of them turned to the central clearing. As they arrived, Col met his brother Rafe who looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“The stallions are busy today, he said, grinning, “Buino and the mare made another pairing, and the mare has since spent her time chasing off the others. She is very jealous of her new companion. Just you don’t be like her!” he shook a finger at his younger sibling.

Col good-naturedly pushed Rafe’s arm aside, “But how is Púridaia Eleni? We have come to see her. Is she up?”

“She is waiting for Geraint, for some reason.”

Geraint stopped abruptly, “That reminds me,” he said and turned back to their own tent.

At the fire, Col brewed up a pot of Chao, then stirred the simmering stew pot that hung suspended from the tripod. At that moment, Geraint returned carrying a bulky bundle wrapped in his rain cloak.

“I will be back,” he said mysteriously and knocked at the door of the wagon. Someone opened it, and he entered.

A little while later, the wagon door opened again. Kyan came down the steps to greet them, carrying a white roll that looked like paper. Geraint followed him down. Shockingly, he wore Eleni’s warm, richly coloured cloak. Without a word of explanation, he sat on the rug placed on the grass and leaned against the log backing it.

Kyan moved so that he could sit between Geraint and Brynnan. He unrolled the paper he carried, which proved to be a large piece of scraped, whitened deerskin, patterned with a detailed map.

“Here is our camp,” Kyan pointed to a symbol with his forefinger. “Here, the track, the main road, and the big river. Across the river is the Keep from where you and the young man Andri escaped.”

Geraint and Brynnan looked on with interest. Brynnan was already memorizing the details.

“This is the route you will follow to avoid the Keep and the main road. This way leads down to the plains where we will be going to our autumn Gathering. We do not tell outsiders where the Gathering Place is, but in your case, if you ever wish to see us, we will be there at the points of the Wheel of the Year,” he paused to accept a cup of Chao from Col, who passed out more cups to the others.

After taking a sip, Kyan continued, “We will be behind you for a time, but you are faster, so we will make our parting here tomorrow. It is a long trek over open grasslands when you get to the plains, but at least there is ample grazing for the horses, even when snows come. There are the tribes of the plains: some are friendly, some not. Be cautious! I will tell you more about what I know of them this evening. But for your route, follow the arrows I have marked and the bearings by the sun. Near the end of the plains are low hills and another mighty river you will have to cross. But the hills have caves. There are many legends about them and perhaps some evil which may assail you.” Kyan made a complicated warding sign in the air with his left hand, and his sons did the same.

“Nijal knows the way to your country from there. We have others of our race who live in ArMoric, but we have never met. This is our land here.”

Brynnan had followed Kyan’s directions and committed every word and mark to memory.

 The wagon door opened again, and Nijal came out, followed by Eleni. Surprised, Brynnan noticed her lovely green gown and decorated vest. Embroidered scarfs graced her hips. Necklaces of yellow amber and blue lapis hung from her neck, and golden hoop earrings flashed in her ears. She looked magnificent – all except for the horse blanket around her shoulders! The others did not seem concerned, but Andri shared a glance with Brynnan and looked totally puzzled. Brynnan was about to speak to Geraint, who was wearing Eleni’s cloak, but a knowing gaze from Nijal stopped him. Geraint gave him a pointed look as well. Brynnan decided he would question Geraint privately later.

But Eleni looked remarkably well, and Brynnan had hope for her. Nijal touched Brynnan’s shoulder and said, “Come with me.”

Brynnan arose and made his courtesies to Eleni, who had begun to tell her menfolk a tale of ancient times, of how a hero cheated the Angel of Death. The Bard hoped she would reveal more tales later, as he was always willing to learn new stories. He turned and followed Nijal into the forest.

They walked in silence to the clearing by the widening stream, under the twisted white pine and the overhang, where they had previously made love. The place felt very special to Brynnan. Nijal turned and took Brynnan in his arms and kissed him with a great tenderness that made the Bard respond in kind.

“Firstly, do not ask me about the cloak and the horse blanket,” Nijal began as he drew away from the Bard, “That is for Geraint and my beloved Eleni to explain. I have brought you here to re-tie the knots.

His words brought back the memory of his heart-love, Lord Samir, tying the rope into a harness across his chest. It formed a pledge of their love and their bond to each other. Without being asked, Brynnan stripped off his clothes again, untied the rope girding his waist and passed it to Nijal.

Nijal took the coil. He instructed the Bard to stand still, with his arms outspread. The Guardian slowly paced around Brynnan, occasionally stroking him with a hand, considering the design he would use. “I will not tie the very same star pattern that Lord Samir used on you, but a design which will reflect the changes you are going through and be a reminder to you of your Lord and lover, and of my hand in tying this new harness – a signature if you will.”

“I submit to your hand, Nijal. And it is right that you are part of this. Before he realized that I had always been faithful, Lord Samir nearly took my life twice, and both times you healed me and restored me to myself. Since the time I was a boy, you have had a part in me. Do what you will. I know it will only augment what my Lord would do.”

Nijal kissed him again and shook open the rope coil. He folded it in half and began to tie his first knot, a series of loops and folds called a Trinity Knot, representing the Mother-of-All. It would lie highest on Brynnan’s chest. He took the free ends, wove a narrow column, and then incorporated the Triskele, or Triple Spiral, into the design. The Triple Spiral represented the cycles of life, death and rebirth. He looped the ends back up to the Trinity Knot, threading them through the bights, or folds at the top. This formed a harness that surrounded Brynnan’s breasts. Nijal wound the rope end around Brynnan’s back and wove the ends back around to the front. He threaded them beside the Triskele, braided a short tab below it and tied a third frontal knot, a complicated Ram’s Head, with the central bight making the 'face' and two curling ‘horns’ on either side. That was Nijal’s sign. Another turn around the back, another tab and loop, and the harness was finished.

But then he brought out a shorter, thinner length of red cord from his robes. The steel cock-ring hung from the end. He slid the ring over Brynnan’s semi-erect cock then tied the cord around his balls to secure the ring. The remaining free end he fastened to the loop of the Ram’s ‘face.’

“I am done,” Nijal said, “How does that feel to your skin?”

“The binding holds me like two arms, but it is so comfortable it feels like part of me.”

“And now we will ask the Mother-of-All to consecrate these knots and give us Her blessing.”

 Nijal then undressed, first laying down his cloak, as he had done before. The two men flowed into each other’s arms, then sank to their knees, embracing and kissing. With firm yet gentle hands, Nijal guided the Bard down onto his back, “I want to take you from the front so that the knots will be between us,” he said.

The Guardian lubed Brynnan’s rectal opening and massaged it. “I want you to also think of your Lord, Samir, while we take pleasure in each other. By rights, he should be part of this.”

“The Mother grant that we three will be together in future and can do this ceremony once more, but as Three-in-One.”

“Yes,”

Nijal lay on Brynnan’s chest, with the bard tilting his pelvis to give the Guardian easy access to his body. Nijal’s powerful cock slipped into the Bard’s ass, and they moved together deep and slow. Words needed to be said, which they gasped out to one another, but it was the power of their minds that counted. Brynnan felt his essence dissolve into oneness with the world around him. He felt/heard the most profound, most inclusive polyphonic chord that ever existed. The deepest vibration shook his soul while the other tones flowed through him in layers. The Ghost Note between all the tones formed the sweetest Sound Brynnan had ever heard. He wept, unashamed.

Later, as they reclaimed themselves, Brynnan told Nijal of the experience and the Sound, “Your voice was part of it too,” he said to the Guardian.

“We are all part of that Sound,” Nijal said.

“Do you hear it, too?” Brynnan asked.

“Yes. What you heard was the voice of the Mother, herself. Each star, each world, has its own unique Song. This is ours.”

Nijal sat upright. Brynnan shivered in awe as he looked at his lover. The Guardian’s chest bore the perfect imprint of the three knots.