Col and Andri: The Vanna Stallions

Of Moonlight and Shadow

 With some regret, Andri left the herder’s camp despite the near-rape he had endured. That unpleasant occasion had been overwritten in his mind by the pleasure he had experienced in his and Col’s sexual trysts with the young herder, Garyn. All the herders seemed to know about it, and the young bard and Col had been subject to good-natured teasing. Andri didn’t mind, and he had enjoyed listening to Col’s exaggerated responses.

But now, days had passed as the party continued on its way south along the High Plateau, sheltered on the west by the ArMynydd mountain chain. Ahead of them, a particular mountain reared with a distinct tripartite peak.

Aled, the older of their two guards, rode next to Andri. He was a capable and solidly-built man with short, greying black hair and a trimmed beard. Andri was grateful to Aled and his younger partner Gethen for intervening and saving him from a sexual assault.

Andri turned to Aled. “What’s the name of that mountain, the one whose peak looks like a throne?”

“That’s Cadair Annwn. ‘Tis said to be a gateway to the Underworld, the realm of Annwn. A trail leads to the peak, but a dark legend attaches to it. Thank the Mother-of-All that we don’t have to go there.”

Andri was surprised. Aled had sounded fearful: one emotion he did not associate with the ordinarily level-headed guard.

“I think I have heard something of it. What does the legend say?”

“A man who ascends the peak, and spends the night at the lake at its top, will become mad, be gifted with poetry, or will die. I have heard of some who have attempted that journey; about half of them died. Their friends found the bodies by the lakeshore, apparently unmarked, but all had looks of frozen horror on their faces.”

Andri privately thought that the stories had been creatively enhanced in the telling. But he recognized the tale now. “I wonder what could have killed them?” he mused.

“Nothing natural. It is also said that the King of the Dead, Arawn, haunts that place. Unfortunately, our camp tonight will be at the foot of the mountain, but it is an ideal spot: wooded and with a stream.”

“Aled, I didn’t know you were so affected by unnatural circumstances!”

“They are not unnatural. Just differently natural. Surely you have experienced such?”

‘More than you know . . .’ Andri thought to himself. He knew of the Lord of the Shadow Realm and the Lord’s son.

Aloud he simply said, “Yes, I have, but I don’t plan on having any differently natural experiences tonight. Rest assured, I’m not about to hare off up the mountain.”

“Good,” Aled replied. “Because Gethen and I will be on guard. We’ll look out for you, don’t worry. Col gave us a talking-to for not sticking closer to you back at the herder’s camp.”

Andri wanted to protest but knew the urge was childish. He had indeed drawn trouble in past journeys by his desirable looks and youthfulness. So he graciously said, “My thanks to both of you, Aled. You have my gratitude.”

They rode on, watching the mountain draw larger in their sight until they encountered a grove of trees extending from its foot; tall, windswept pines and stunted oaks that had to survive the plateau’s sometimes wild weather.

As Horsemaster and leader, Andri’s lover, Col, set tasks for everyone, and their camp was soon set up. The horses were tended to by Keven, the groom, and put to graze. It was good to sit around the fire after their evening meal. The conversation turned to the mountain.

“I told Andri of the legend, Col,” said Aled. “He’s promised not to go wandering up the track.”

Col looked at his lover sitting beside him and took his hand. “I should hope not, or all my recent lessons in avoiding trouble will have been in vain. On the other hand, maybe I’ll just go and take a quick look.”

Aled started up, “Col!” he protested.

Andri laughed. “Relax, he is playing the demon. I have to put up with it all the time.” He squeezed Col’s hand affectionately.

Col yawned and announced. “We travelled far into the evening, and I am tired. I suggest we all turn in. Aled, you relieve Gethen for the first watch. Go fetch him now; I know he wanted to talk to Keven.”

Oddly, Keven blushed and lowered his head.

*    *    *

Gethen and Keven walked alone under the pines but close to the tents. A nearly full moon cast strips of shadow and pale light upon the forest floor, and the scene had that otherworldly quality that moonlight evokes.

Gethen pushed back his shoulder-length black hair. He displayed an attitude of competence and fierceness, but his words to Keven tonight were soft and non-confrontational.

“Have you thought about it, Keven?” he asked.

Keven smiled and glanced at Gethen. “Umm . . .constantly. I haven’t been with a man before. Strictly women. I thought that male-on-male sex would be perfunctory and confined to indulging in lust. But after watching how Col and Andri treat each other, I’ve changed my mind—not that I’m looking for a permanent relationship right now!” he added hurriedly.

“Don’t worry: it’s friendship I want. Being a guard and being Aled’s partner keeps me occupied.”

“Do you and Aled—?“

Gethen laughed softly, “Occasionally, yes. We’ve been partnered as guards for three years and get along well. So, what do you think? Would you like to try?”

“Ahh, do I have to get my ass fucked?”

“No, let’s save that for later when we see how tonight works out. Here . . .come closer.”

Keven moved into Gethen’s offered embrace. He let the young guard kiss him and felt the man’s tongue pushing between his teeth, then moving sensuously in his mouth. In return, Keven responded by opening his mouth more and probing the inquisitive tongue. A warm sensation flooded his loins as his cock twitched and stirred.

They continued kissing. Gethen moved a hand down and cupped Keven’s balls through his breeches, making him moan. “Touch me back—here, let me undo my breeches,” the guard said. “I want you to feel my cock.”

Keven let his fingers roam onto Gethen’s stiffening rod. The skin felt smooth, and the hairs around its base were silky rather than wiry. He kept his touch feather-light, exploring the cock’s contours as it continued to stiffen. Gethen’s cock was of good size but not overly large. It had a slight upcurve and a shapely helmet head. Then Keven stroked the length of the cock again, pausing at the tip to feel the dew of pre-cum gathering there. He swirled his fingers in it and used them to lubricate the head.

Gethen made a grunt of appreciation. “There’s so much to discover in another man’s body: ass, prostate, balls and region between testicles and ass—touch me there now, Keven—nipples, neck, pits . . .” He subsided into silence, soaking up the sensations produced by the groom’s exploring hands.

“Open your coat. I want to touch your nipples,” Keven said in a hoarse voice.

Gethen not only complied, but as Keven leaned forward and began to suck on his nipples, he reached down and opened Keven’s breeches. The young groom’s cock sprang out, already hard.

Keven’s excitement grew as he felt Gethen grasp his cock, ringing the head between forefinger and thumb, and slide the foreskin back and forth over the glans.

“Oh, that’s good; that’s really good. Keep going!” Keven gasped.

But Gethen suddenly slid to his knees and placed his mouth over Keven’s cock; just holding it there, letting the young groom feel the warmth and wetness enclosing it.

“Suck me,” Keven breathed, then moaned as the guard did just that. Having a man’s mouth on his cock felt incredible, and the young groom thought he wouldn’t last long. But he didn’t want to cum just yet.

As his lust began to peak, Keven said, “Gethen, stop for a little, will you? I want to try sucking you before I shoot my load.”

Gethen kissed the tip of Keven’s cock, then rose to his feet. He thrust his hips forward, and it was Keven’s turn to kneel.

“I have wanted to taste your cock for a while now,” Keven said. “The thought of it has been keeping me awake at night.”

“Now’s your chance. Do me, Keven; suck my cock. It’s got big just for you.”

Keven held the cock in his hand and rubbed the wet tip against his mouth. He licked his lips, tasting pre-cum for the first time. Then he took Gethen’s rigid member in his mouth. It tasted fresh and was scented with musk: it intoxicated him. He began to apply himself and sucked steadily. Keven didn’t know if he was doing it right, but he didn’t care: it was wonderful.

“I’m going to cum soon,” announced Gethen. “Do you want to feel it on your face? You don’t have to swallow my cum tonight.”

“Yes, cum on me; then let me do the same to you,” Keven begged.

He renewed sucking with increased vigour. He could physically sense Gethen’s excitement and the little signals that communicated the body’s intent: the tightening of the scrotum, the spasms in the cock. He felt it coming with an almost magical prescience.

Gethen suddenly cried out and pulled his cock away. Taking it in his hand, he jerked it off rapidly, physically pumping it as cum fountained out of the head. The first spurts shot past Keven’s shoulder, but the others hit his face. Gethen continued cumming, until he milked the last drops from his rod.

Keven felt cum hitting his face, bringing images to mind of hot lava from a volcano. The sensation was indescribable. He felt initiated into a rich, sensual new world.

“Gethen, help me jerk off. I want you to see me cum now!”

The guard pulled Keven to his feet. But as the young groom masturbated, it was Gethen’s turn to sink to his knees and take the cock in his mouth. His expert oral ministrations quickly had their effect, and Keven ejaculated. Gethen kept his mouth around the spasming cock, swallowing as each jet of cum flooded over his tongue, making Keven moan helplessly.

As Keven rested his forehead against Gethen’s chest, his arms wrapped tightly around the guard’s body, Gethen said, “I hope you found that as amazing as I did. Thank you for trusting me.”

“I’m . . .overwhelmed!” Keven responded. “It’s much more than I imagined. I thought it would just be pleasant, and we’d both get a burst of excitement from it, but I felt something special, a type of communion like I felt once as I stood on a mountain’s summit and watched the sunrise.”

Gethen laughed. “Why, Keven, I didn’t know a horseman had such poetry in his soul! Then we definitely must do this again and explore some different passages. But now, let’s go to the stream, and you can wash your face. I can imagine how Col would tease you if he saw cum all over you!”

Keven laughed and kissed the guard. “Now you’ve got cum on your face. We’ll both have a wash. But let’s hurry; I feel the temperature dropping.

*    *    *

Andri woke up. His bladder insisted on being relieved. He threw a cloak over his shoulders and exited the tent. After answering nature’s call, Andri walked further in the moonlight, away from the tents but not too far. He wondered where Aled was keeping watch.

The sound of muffled footsteps caused him to turn around, and he saw Col approaching. Andri leaned into him when Col took his hand, feeling his partner’s lips touch his neck.

“Come on back inside. It’s getting colder out here,” Col said, keeping his voice low.

Andri suddenly found himself shivering as the temperature plummeted. Frost coated the tree branches and bushes, glittering in the moonlight.

“Deception!” Col’s whispered harshly.

“What?”

“The Moon symbol in the Kuntari Cards of Far-seeing. It signifies deception. Something is coming that is not what it seems!”

“We’ve felt this before,” Andri managed through chattering teeth. “Remember? When Brynnan was transported bodily through the Shadow-Ways and came to us after his confrontation with the Invaders.”

“I have a feeling this is not our dear friend,” said Col, holding his lover tightly.

Now a mist formed around them, obscuring the forest. The two young men felt a sense of immanence, a presence creating itself within the obscuring vapour. A large, dark shape became barely visible. Then the mist started to dissipate.

A man on a magnificent, dapple-grey horse was before them. His clothing was of some dark colour—green, Andri thought. He had a bow strapped to the saddle, a sword at his hip and a silver hunting horn on a baldric across his chest. He wore a long, silver-grey, hooded riding cloak that draped over his horse’s back and fell to each side. Its colour seemed to blur the man’s outline, matching the moonlight.

Under the hood, what Andri could see of his face looked sinister. Dark pits where eyes should be, lit from within by twin green sparks of eldritch light. Long, black hair flowed over each shoulder, adding to his feral aspect. Andri felt fear creeping up his spine.

But Col stepped in front of him, shielding Andri from the Hunter’s view. And when the young Horsemaster spoke, there was scarcely a tremor in his voice.

“My Lord of Death. To what do we owe this honour? And where are your hounds tonight? Do they not hunt with you?”

“You would see my hounds?” The voice was deep and cold.

“Umm . . .just one hound will do, Lord.”

The Huntsman laughed. “One hound for Col, son of Kyan, grandson of Puri Dai Eleni.”

The mist formed again in one spot, and a great dog materialized. Its aspect was terrible. It floated off the ground, showing blazing red eyes and unnaturally long, bared teeth. But Col’s reaction surprised Andri, and even the Lord of Death seemed taken aback.

“Ysbryd!” the young Horsemaster called and held out his hand to the creature.

“Col, don’t!—“ Andri shouted in alarm.

On hearing Andri’s voice, the Huntsman’s head snapped up, and he fixed Andri with a stare. The young bard experienced a stinging sensation over his skin, a current of energy that flooded over him, and he flinched.

 But meanwhile, the ghostly dog floated right up to Col. Then the red light in its eyes died, its massive paws touched the earth, and suddenly it was just an enormous but earthly dog. Col petted it.

“He remembers me!” exclaimed Col.

The horseman pulled back his hood. The deathly look left his face as gaunt hollows smoothed out, and he appeared almost approachable.

“That was . . .very human of you,” said the Hunter. He seemed at a further loss for words.

“King Arawn, Shadow Lord, can you give us news of your son? Is he in Annwn?” asked Col, continuing to stroke the dog’s ears.

“Brynnan is in Torrent Mountain with the Warlord, Samir. He has remained there since events transpired in Siginak, the settlement of the star people.”

“I wondered why we did not see him at my graduation this year. He has come for the previous ones,” said Andri, mustering the courage to speak. “But Lord, why have you come to us, if I may ask?”

Arawn, King of Annwn, dismounted and tossed his cloak back from his broad shoulders. He was taller than Andri, with a trim but muscular body, slim-hipped. His physique spoke of agility and strength, as befitted one who hunted human prey.

“Since you would not come to my mountain, I have come to you. I do not, as a rule, involve myself in the affairs of mortals, but I have a soft spot when it comes to my son Brynnan, whose mother was human.”

“What can you tell us, Lord?” Col boldly addressed the Shadow King.

“That you will meet Geraint, the old Warrior who stands beside the Warlord Samir. He will need your help at a certain point in your journey. It involves the city-state of Hesperon. I have a personal stake in this, and my son may be able to aid you, but . . .he has changed since his recent experience with death and dying. If circumstances are beyond hope, call on me, although I think you know the kind of help I am willing to give.” The Hunter’s smile was sinister.

“But why warn us at all?” challenged Col. “If things are fated to be, what good can we accomplish? Andri and I are not great heroes or anything like that.”

“Ah, Fate. It’s overrated. What humans call fate is really the culmination of streams of probabilities at any given point. I expect you and Fate have clashed a few times already, Col.”

But Andri summoned his courage to ask, “Lord, we will do whatever we can to support Geraint—both Col and I owe him so much. But even with your son Brynnan’s interest, would it not be more in keeping with your otherworldly protocols to claim Geraint’s soul rather than helping him live?”

“An astute observation, young man. But I do have a personal interest in Geraint. He once performed a service for me in which he was supremely skilled.”

“He dared to suck your cock?” Col said breathlessly, sounding awestruck.

“I see you know him well,” said Arawn in some surprise. “Geraint is a man of exceptional talent.”

“He taught us both,” Andri said. “But I’m surprised he wasn’t blasted by your touch!”

Arawn stepped close to Andri. Before Col could react, the Shadow King laid a hand on Andri’s shoulder. “My touch doesn’t always mean death,” he said. “Remember that.”

 The King turned and mounted his horse, which had stood unnaturally still in the moonlight. But Col had one last question for him.

“Lord King, Hunter of Souls: if I had gone to the lake on your mountain this night, would I have died? Our guard told Andri that half of your visitors die, with looks of terror on their faces. What causes that?”

“Col . . .” sighed Andri, “You can’t just question the Lord of Death.”

“But nonetheless, I will answer,” said Arawn. Grim humour touched his face. “Col, those who died were afraid of dogs. But you seem to have a way with them.”

Col smiled. “I am good with animals.”

Arawn raised one eyebrow and gave Col a knowing look. Then he turned his horse to an open patch of moonlight. The silver mist descended once more, and horse, rider and dog faded from view.

*    *    *

The forest air was again warm as if the cold and frost had never been. Andri simply stood and regarded his lover for long, unspeaking moments. Then he said, “Sometimes, you scare me half to death.”

“Ves’tacha, I was merely curious,” Col replied. “As for the warning: we will do as we’ve always done. We will be aware but live each day as best we can. And you are still cold, I see. Let me take you into the tent, and we can warm each other.”

“I’d like that,” Andri replied. But inside, he yearned to see Brynnan again and wondered what Arawn’s words about Brynnan’s experiences with death really meant.

*    *    *

On their way back, Aled stepped out of the trees to meet them. He breathed a visible sigh of relief. “You are alright! I have been looking for you. I heard your voices a while ago, but a night mist prevented me from finding you.”

“We are just fine, Aled,” said Col. “The mist temporarily confused us also.”

“I was afraid one of you wandered up the mountain. I’m really glad I don’t have to track anyone up there.”

“No, we didn’t go up the mountain,” said Col. “The mountain came to us.” Seeing Aled’s expression, Col clarified, “Things seemed really unchancy there for a short time, but we did not get lost.” He switched the subject. “Isn’t it time for your watch to change?”

Aled seemed to relax, for he smiled and said, “Gethen will not be eager to leave our tent. Unless my instincts are mistaken, I might find he’s not alone.”

“Yes,” said Andri. “He and Keven have been trying to keep their attraction to each other secret, but it’s obvious. Keven went to “speak” to Gethen tonight. Will it present a problem for you if they develop a relationship?”

“No, bless me!” Aled replied. “I’m sure both of them are mature enough to remain focused on their duties, and as for Gethen and I, we do sometimes indulge our lustful natures together, but it’s casual. He’s welcome to bring Keven to our tent, seeing as, at night, our shifts mean only one of us is there at any particular time.”

“That’s a relief to hear,” said Andri.

They reached the tents. As they parted, Col directed Aled, “Tell Keven not to rush to prepare breakfast in the morning. I think we could all do with a little extra sleep.”

*    *    *

As the sky lightened, Col, indulging his desires, embraced Andri’s back. He kissed and nibbled his lover’s neck, then moved his hand down between Andri’s thighs to caress the morning hard-on he discovered. Andri moaned and spread his legs. Col wanted to slide down and rim the enticing ass, but he felt too lazy. Instead, he felt around beside him, discovering the bottle of lube, and applied the liquid to Andri’s rectal opening, eliciting more moans from his beloved.

“Raise your ass. I want you, ves’tacha,” Col murmured, and Andri obliged. Col’s hard cock pushed past the anal opening and sank into the warm, tight embrace of the passage.

“Mmm . . .just keep it in there. I love it when we’re joined together,” Andri said.

“You don’t want me to move, like this?” Col’s rigid shaft, slick with lubricant, slid in deeper, and he began to thrust with his hips.

“Yes, yes! Keep doing that!”

Col simply gave way to his desires, fucking his lover hard as the urge took him. Then he reached around and grasped Andri’s stiff penis, working it back and forth in time to his thrusts. Before he knew it, his ball sack tightened, the muscles in his loins and legs tensed, then his cock spasmed and pumped out floods of cum. Even as his ejaculation subsided, he kept manipulating Andri’s cock, wanting, needing him to cum. He was rewarded as Andri cried out and bucked, shooting his hot ejaculate into Col’s hand. Then Andri moved under his lover and turned on his back.

Col reared above him, supporting himself upright with his arms. He looked down at Andri, feeling a sense of wonder that they belonged to each other. His eyes raked over his lover’s peaceful face, nearly smooth chest, and shoulders. He stopped abruptly in shock.

“What is it?” Andri asked, puzzled.

“Your shoulder! Where the Huntsman touched you last night. There’s a mark: a white handprint on your skin. Death touched you, and you survived.”

They looked at each other in amazement, wondering what it meant.

*    *    *

To be continued . . .