Col and Andri: The Vanna Stallions

Judgement of the Kris

“Wake up, my son, and wake Andri! This is a morning you do not want to miss.” Kyan stood at the entrance to Col and Andri’s tent.

A groggy voice answered him. “Dad, it’s too early! What’s so important?”

Kyan rolled his eyes but answered patiently, “This is the last day of deliberations by the kris, remember? They are only deciding the fate of that wretch, Soli and his friends, who nearly had you killed! Do your bruises no longer trouble you that you forget so soon?”

“Te kurel! I did forget!” Col poked his head out the tent flap.

“Don’t swear around me, chavo. Now come to the fire—Sara has cooked pancakes.”

“Sorry, dad. Pancakes! You know how to tempt me. Andri and I will be out very soon.”

“Don’t eat too much,” said Kyan as he left.

Andri laughed and dragged Col back. “Do you think he knows what we were doing? Are you going to finish eating, or will you wait for breakfast?”

“I suspect my father knows—too much!” Col said as he rolled back over Andri’s thighs.

He licked the head of his lover’s stiff cock, teasing it with the tip of his tongue, before swallowing it with sensuous slowness. His lips, newly healed, pulled on the silky skin, sliding it over the rigid muscle beneath. His hands roamed over Andri’s body, stroking it and pinching the nipples.

“I’m ready to cum,” the young bard breathed. “Do you want it? Do you want to taste my cum?”

“Mmm . . .”

“I’ll take that as “yes.” Here it comes—now!” Andri threw his head back, breathing deeply as he ejaculated.

Col slid up Andri’s body and shared a cum-tasting kiss. They lay still in each other’s arms until Andri nudged Col into getting dressed.

“I’m rather afraid of what the kris has decided,” Andri said as they left the tent. “I’m glad I don’t have to attend, just being a witness. But I might be inclined to a little mercy, knowing that Soli did it out of misguided love.”

“I’m afraid I feel short of mercy—especially towards Zoltan, who tried to kill you. And have you forgotten that my injuries were due to Soli’s plans? Geraint, Aled and I nearly died. And he stole our horses, and—“

“All right, my husband. I do find it hard to deal with. I’m glad you and Aled are just about healed,” said Andri, squeezing Col’s hand.

They joined the family and Geraint at the campfire. Sara served them food, her long hair in multiple braids swinging over her hips, each secured with a flashing gold ring. Aled, Jorge, Keven and Gethen were still not up, and Andri envied them. Not being Wanderers, their presence was not required at the court’s convening. The kris dealt with purely Wanderer matters.

“You can stay and play me that new song that Kyan taught you,” said Geraint to Andri. “He is a good teacher.”

“I’ll fetch my harp after breakfast,” Andri replied, glad for the distraction.

*     *     *

The members, or krisnitorya, of the court, sat in a group in the gathering place near the river. Other men attended as an audience: no women were present. This was man’s business. On one side were those Wanderers accused and tried: Soli, Bengo, Alif, Leandro and Zoltan.

The krisnitori Manfri, the spokesperson for the others, beckoned Leandro, Alif, and Bengo to come forward.

“Amos, son of Danior, has presented evidence against you and witnessed some of your actions. You conspired with a renegade trader of the Çerge and with gadje strangers to aid them in stealing horses. You knew it would lure Col, Kyan’s son, and his friend Geraint, our guest. I will pronounce our judgement.

“You will pay fines, and furthermore, work will be assigned to you about the camp for the remainder of the Gathering. I warn you the work will be hard and unpleasant. When not working, you will be confined to your camps. Do you dispute this? What do you say?”

Leandro stepped forward and spoke for his friends. “We are truly sorry. Andri, Col’s heart-partner, convinced us that it was best for us to experience . . .compassion in our dealings. We accept the judgement of the kris.”

Next, it was Zoltan’s turn. He looked defiant as he stood in front of the krisnitorya but also uncertain.

Manfri frowned at him. “Amos has shown evidence that you tried to kill Col’s mate directly. We have the knives you used. Furthermore, you tried to incite your friends to violence. You treated with hostile gadje strangers in their plot hurt Col. We see little sign of a change of heart. There is no place for you among us. Therefore, Zoltan, we cast you out. You will leave, escorted, as soon as may be. Your wife has the option of staying with you or remaining here. If she remains here, your wagon will become hers alone, and you will be considered divorced. Your children will not carry the shame of your name. What do you say?

Hate and despair filled Zoltan’s eyes at the harsh judgement. It was the worst sentence that could be given.

“I accept your judgement, but I curse—“

“Hold your tongue. Know that any curse you utter will rebound on you!” stated Manfri.

Zoltan quickly fell silent. He knew he had almost damned himself totally. As he was dismissed, he cast one last hate-filled glance in Col’s direction, and despite himself, the young Horsemaster shivered. Kyan, seated beside him, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

And then it was Soli’s turn to face the kris and learn his fate. Fear was in his eyes: fear that Zoltan’s fate would be his.

“Soli of the Kasht clan. You have never before given cause for trouble, but what you did was a clear betrayal of our ways. You must have known that the theft of Col’s stallion and his friend Geraint’s colt would cause them to seek their horses and lead them into danger. You knew the strangers meant no good to them; indeed, we have heard they were meant to die. But you are also indirectly responsible for a Çerge trader’s death at the hands of the strangers who involved him in their plots. It was this trader who recruited you. Now his mullo walks unavenged. But we will give it his due in your judgement. But know first that one has interceded on your behalf and spared you the ultimate punishment.

Soli looked at the implacable expressions of the court members. One who glowered at him most was Fenix, the leader of the visiting Çerge kumpania. Certainly, none of them had interceded.

“We decree that you pay fines and be banished—for the term of one complete Turn until next spring’s Gathering. When the Çerge traders leave, you will go with them and serve them however they see fit. Then you will return with them, and if they have been satisfied with your service, you may be reinstated as a full Wanderer within your clan. What do you say?

“I accept the judgement of the Kris,” Soli spoke heavily. “I feel deep regret for my actions. My objections to Col’s handfasting were personal.”

Watching, Col felt a wave of sadness. So much trouble and pain for nothing. Men had died because of Soli’s shortsighted mischief. Once again, he heard Garth Mellea command the assassin to kill Aled. That the assassin was their friend Jorge had been an incredible happenstance, but it could have turned out so much worse.

*     *     *

Col walked back in silence with his father. Kyan explained the reasoning behind the judgements, but Col knew Kyan attempted to comfort him. He should have felt relieved now that the plot to harm himself, his partner and his friends was over, but he merely felt an unaccustomed heaviness in his soul.

 His heart lifted somewhat as he arrived back in camp. Andri was there, listening to Eleni instruct him on Wanderer ways, and Col was grateful the ancient harsh but necessary taboos had changed. It allowed Andri to be accepted.

He automatically sent a greeting to Andri. ‘Ves’tacha, it is good to see you here and safe.”

Col received a warm wave of love in response. He sat for a time, listening to both Eleni and Andri discussing the lore, but Eleni glanced at him with a sharp and penetrating gaze, seeing into his heart, perhaps.

‘Go speak with Rafe. He has something to tell you that may lift your spirits,’ he heard her voice in his mind.

*     *     *

Rafe stood in the clearing not far from the fire, brushing their stallion, Buino.

“Where is everyone?” Col asked him.

“Sastipe, little phral. Keven and Gethen are with your stallions, even as you asked, and Geraint, Aled and Jorge have gone hunting.”

Col suspected he knew what “hunting” meant in this case, and despite himself, he smiled, imagining the three older men pleasuring and fucking each other.

Rafe turned an understanding face to him. “The Kris judgement was pretty harsh, eh? But it was fair. It’s just difficult to see someone banished. Our family means everything to me.”

“And to me also, Rafe. I’m blessed in the sense that I have inherited Púridaia Eleni’s Gift. Even though so far a distance divides us, I can speak to her mind, and she tells me how you all are doing.”

“As she does with you,” Rafe replied.

“But she neglected to tell me until recently about the baby. I didn’t know you were a father of two.”

Rafe cleared his throat. “About that . . .” He hesitated, then continued. “I was going to wait until the disturbance of the trial faded, but I think you need cheering up. We are holding the child’s naming ceremony in a few days. You and Andri must be here for it.”

“That’s wonderful, Rafe! Have you decided on his name?—I know, it’s unlucky to ask. I’ll wait.”

“You do that,” his brother replied with an enigmatic smile.

Col’s heart suddenly felt lighter. “I think I’ll drag Andri away from his lesson and go for a ride. I want to try out the painted stallion; now I have a pretty good idea of the black one’s qualities. Andri can stick to riding Kalo.”

Rafe slapped him on the back. “I know you’re feeling better when you start talking about horses.”

*     *     *

The ride with Andri invigorated Col. They raced their horses, and Col whooped with excitement to feel his body functioning again after healing from the beating. When they pulled up and let their horses walk off their exertions, Andri turned to his lover.

“My husband, now that Soli has received judgment, I have a confession. It was I that interceded for him.”

“Don’t worry: I already guessed it was you. Ever since you told me of your encounter with Soli at his wagon, I knew your sense of compassion might express itself. But things are not fully resolved for me. I think I would like to confront Soli personally. Will you come with me?”

“Of course, dear one. But let’s have Aled or Gethen accompany us. There will be guards, I’m sure, but it will be good to have our own with us: they would be upset if we left them behind.”

They consulted with Col’s friend Kashi, who set up the meeting for that evening at Soli’s wagon. Aled accompanied them to their meeting but stayed outside to talk with two men who served as guards.

“I wouldn’t trust myself to go inside with you,” he said to Col. “I might administer a beating to him myself. Just be glad Jorge isn’t here, too.”

“I am,” Col replied. “We will be a little while. You will know if we need help.”

Andri was the first one inside the vardo, with Col right behind him. Soli was seated at the far end of the interior, perched on the edge of the bed fitted there. Again, the window shutters were closed, and lamplight bathed the space.

Soli looked shocked on seeing Col. “I thought it would be only you, Andri.”

Col approached him, his motion slow and, to Soli, menacing.

“You look changed,” Soli muttered, seeing the young Horsemaster’s grim expression.

“Near-death experiences can do that to a man,” Col replied. “I want to lay eyes on you before you are sent away.”

“I loved you, Col. I have loved you for years. I felt betrayed when you and Andri were hand-fasted.”

Col laughed incredulously. “Love? You have no conception of what love is!”

“Andri showed me the love you and he share. Something happened. I touched his shoulder and glimpsed what you and he have between you,” Soli replied. His eyes pleaded for understanding.

“As for betrayal, there was no relationship between us, so how could you feel betrayed? However, I felt betrayed that a brother Wanderer could sell me out to assassins and gadje strangers,” Col said, standing directly in front of the unfortunate man.

“What would you have me do?” Soli cried.

In response, Col slowly began to strip off his clothes, tossing each item one by one on the padded bench beside him, revealing his tight, muscular physique on which the bruisings were now only areas of yellow, faintly purplish skin. Soli couldn’t take his eyes off them.

“Strip!” commanded Col.

Soli obeyed, fear in his eyes.

“Andri, take your place on the bed. Soli is going to see what we do.”

“Col—“ Andri started to say but went silent as his husband spoke to his mind, imaging what was to happen. Then Andri stripped down, too, until he and Soli were both naked.

‘Is this safe?’ Andri sent.

‘I want him to understand what he messed with,’ Col’s words and images lodged in Andri’s mind.

Col climbed onto the bed, joining Andri. He made Soli stand back and watch. His engagement with his lover started with deep kisses, and Andri quickly found himself responding, fully and naturally, as if they were alone. When Col sucked his nipples, they formed hard nubs, making Andri shiver with ecstasy. The young Horsemaster continued licking and kissing his way down to Andri’s substantial cock, which quickly responded to becoming a firm rod.

Their loving actions continued as Col grasped Andri’s hips, playing his cock around the rectal opening before pushing it inside. Andri let out a gasp of pure pleasure and caressed Col’s hair, twining his hands in the long, black curls. Col leaned forward and kissed his lover again as his cock pumped in and out.

Andri soon found himself moaning and drenched with sweat, his stiff rod throbbing. He tossed his head, sending a lock of blond hair over his eyes. “I’m going to cum,” he groaned.

“Cum in my hand, lover,” Col urged, holding his open palm below the head of Andri’s penis.

Andri masturbated rapidly, beating his cock. Then with a cry, he stiffened, and cum spurted into Col’s hand. When the spasms subsided, he watched Col bring his fingers to his mouth, sucking and licking the love juice off them while keeping eye contact with Andri. When Col put his fingers in his lover’s mouth, Andri licked off the remaining cum.

Col then withdrew his cock and started to masturbate himself. He leaned over Andri’s body while his lover responded by placing his own open hand under Col’s spasming cock. When the creamy cum jetted out, Andri repeated Col’s previous actions with his hand, licking the cum off it before offering it to Col. They sealed their lovemaking with a deep kiss.

Soli had been staring at the couple, eyes filled with despair and longing. He looked up in shock when Col walked over, his penis still erect.

“Get up and bend over the bench!” Col’s tone was implacable.

Too dazed to do anything else, Soli complied. He cried out in pain when Col rammed his cock into the dry hole and proceeded to fuck him mercilessly. His hands dug into Soli’s buttocks as he thrust, but soon he pulled out, gripped his cock and spurted cum over Soli’s ass.

Col then turned the man around, pushed him to his knees, and ordered him. “Clean me off.”

Soli did as he was told and licked Col’s cock clean. When he had finished, Col pushed his victim away from him.

Andri was shocked but held his opinions to himself. His ordinarily kind lover had treated Soli with contempt, no, with indifference, which was worse. But the young bard realized that his husband was acting from a place of pain and deep hurt, finally expressed.

“I hope you got what you wanted, Soli,” Col said as he finished dressing.

“No, not what I wanted, but what I deserved,” Soli said, lowering his head.

“Come on, Andri,” Col said as he turned away. “Let’s go to the river. I need a swim.”

Andri looked back at Soli, who seemed now utterly defeated. He hoped his lover would not become hardened to the pain of others: Col was on a dangerous path, and something was needed to break the spell. But Andri was at a loss on how to help.

*     *     *

The days passed, and there were no new dramas. But the family was astir with arrangements for the naming ceremony.

“Poor child,” remarked Col. “He is just getting used to being called “Camlo.” Now it will change.” But he threw himself into the preparations with goodwill, and Andri felt relieved.

Then the extended family of cousins and friends came bringing food. Aled and Jorge contributed by going hunting in actuality, returning with a young deer. The menfolk constructed an extra firepit, and Keven and Gethen volunteered to tend the spit for the roast.

The morning arrived, with everything laid out and ready. On this occasion, the men gave in to the women’s demands, mainly because they were told to get out of the way and let the women work.

There was some anxiety when rain threatened, but others considered it lucky, bringing happiness and fertility.

Comfortable rugs and cushions provided seating for the child’s immediate family, with Eleni in the place of prominence. She sat discussing matters with the older women, and Col suspected that likely marriages were being planned.

Col and Andri had bathed in the river early in the morning and sat beside Rafe and Sara, dressed in feasting clothes. Col wore his embroidered vest and a white shirt, and Andri looked the part of a bard in his dark green robe.

Music cheerfully played gave a welcome backdrop to the scene. Andri was exempted from playing, instead being treated as immediate family.

At last, it was time. Looking beautiful and motherly, Sara held the young child on her lap while her daughter, Miryam, played with the rings on her mother’s hair.

Kyan walked to the centre of the circle. “Welcome! May the Devleski Day, the Earth Mother who has brought you here, keep all of you. Today we give this child his adult use-name. As many of you know, our ceremony comes late—he’s thirteen Moons old. This lateness is for a reason which you will come to understand. And today, in particular, our newest hand-fasted family members, my son Col, and his spouse, Andri, are among us. The head man of our kumpania, Silvanus, and Phuridaia Eleni, our wise woman, have declared them as part of the married couples of our vitsa. And now . . .”

Rafe arose, carrying a white wool blanket. He placed it in the grass and put a small knife and a long, red string beside it.

“I call on Col and Andri. Come here, my brother,” Rafe said.

Rising beside his beloved, Andri’s thoughts whirled in surprise. “We are to be the witnesses,” he thought.

Rafe looked meaningfully at his father, then called his wife, Sara. She came forward, carrying the young child, who clung to her but looked around with curiosity in his bright, intelligent eyes. Sara kissed him, then sat him on the blanket before returning to her place.

Rafe looked directly at Col. “Pick him up,” he said.

Col felt confused, for it was Rafe’s responsibility to take the child, formally claiming him as his own.

“Pick him up, my phral. Don’t you want him?”

Col took the child. A wave of certainty bathed him, and suddenly he knew. It was his own son that looked back at him. It could not be denied. He opened his mind to Andri, sharing the wonder and the love.

Awestruck, Andri expressed his thoughts. ‘I feel this truth, but how is it possible?’

Col’s mind sped rapidly back to an occasion where he and Andri witnessed the appointment of the Summer Queen in ArMor-ys: ‘Gwenllaeth . . .’ he sent his thought to Andri. ‘She was obsessed with you, remember? And I had to stop her when she named you to be her lover. So I—‘

‘I recall. But how is Gwenllaeth’s child here?’ [1]

Eleni’s unmistakable mind-voice interrupted. ‘Cease your wondering, my grandsons. I will disclose how it was done later. Just now, you have a job to perform.’

Col looked at his son, then at the people. “I now give you a new name, the name your Wanderer people will know you by. I name you Kham, after the bright sun-star which nourishes our world. May you be a light to brighten the hearts of those around you!”

Rafe took the small knife and handed it to Andri. “A drop of blood only, from Col’s thumb.”

Andri did not question but lightly pricked his partner’s thumb, watching as Col pressed the blood drop to the child’s white shirt. Then he took the red string from Rafe and, as instructed, tied it around Kham’s wrist.

But Col turned with a smile in his eyes and placed the boy in Andri’s arms. “This is a lucky child. He will have three fathers who love him.

“And one mother,” Sara added with finality.

Looking at the child, Col felt something—a small bright presence—touch his mind, and his heart swelled with love.

*     *     *

 Eleni sat in her wagon with Col, Andri and Rafe around her. “Now, Grandson, I suppose you and Andri want to know how it came to be that we found your child.”

“Indeed, Puridaia. The last I knew, his natural mother, Gwenllaeth, had him with her in her father’s holding near ArMor-ys. I heard she had borne a son but was not sure I had sired him: after me, she was immediately courted by a Ruithin bard called Emrys. Besides, the babe was supposed to be a “Summer’s Child” and ritually fatherless.”

Eleni said, “The child wanted his father. I disclose this to you: he has our Gift. It is undeveloped yet, but I began to dream of a child wailing in the night. Tracing the source, I found Kham. He was nameless even then. His mother had not bonded with him.”

Col felt distressed. He had known that Gwenllaeth was both self-centred and demanding of her due. But not to nurture the child! He found this hard to accept.

“I found a mind I could contact there: the bard Emrys who you mentioned. I have never before negotiated a bargain mind-to-mind, but I did with this bard. I found out that heartless woman was pregnant again—and Emrys was the father. She had no time for our little one. So, after convincing her, Emrys sent the babe with guards and a wet nurse to where I directed them to go—”

But Andri interrupted, “How could she, Puridaia Eleni! How could she be so heartless?”

“All I know is the gadje, the non-Wanderers, do not have our commitment to family. You, Andri, are now one of us. You, too, will be a good parent to this child.”

Col looked at Rafe. “So you, my phral baro, my big brother, looked after Kham along with Sara. I am grateful beyond expressing.”

Rafe smiled. “He took to us like a duckling to water. Luckily, Miryam is only a little older and was still nursing, so Sara could look after him fully.”

“I hope you will continue to look after him in our absence. It tears my soul to leave him, but you are right; he needs his family and the upbringing of our tsera, our households, and our kumpaniya.

“Many stars light the forest path,” said Eleni, quoting an old saying. “But when do you plan to return to your other home with the stallions?”

“Too soon, Puridaia. In the next few days. Aled and I have our stamina back, and we have already stayed longer than what we told Andri’s teachers and my boss.”

“So, and doubtless Jorge will want to return to his home in the mountains.”

“He will accompany us that far.”

“The threads of this weave are still on the loom, Grandson. There may be one last thing to accomplish here.” She rose to her feet and came over to Col and Andri. She leaned up and kissed them both on the cheek. “Now go with God.”

Col replied, “And you, Grandmother, and Rafe, my brother, stay with God.”

Taking Andri’s hand, he left the wagon.

 

To be continued . . .