To Redeem His People

The Invasion Begins

The Warlord, Samir, accompanied Leader Ilchi to the meeting room. He was getting used to Ilchi leading him on tours of the Mothership. He had explored the terraces that extended all around the great ship’s rotating interior, where crops of grain and vegetables were grown, the hydroponic gardens of rare herbs, the vast library and hall of records, science labs and many other places. Ilchi had been at great pains to explain the functions of each area. Most amazing to him were the cryogenic halls with all the Sleepers. Ten thousand souls!

However, this morning—they kept to planet time—they were to meet the chief Summoner, Ruh-çağıran Natan, the Necromancer. Samir seated himself in a contouring chair that moved to fit his body.

Leader Ilchi stood as their guest arrived. Samir did not. Like all the Invaders he had met, the Necromancer was slender, tall, with artificially tanned skin, but his hair was long, straight and black. His black eyes looked like bottomless pools. He was dressed in a deep red gown with a necklace of small bones. A cross-harness on his chest held small devices. Of course, he wore a wristband that could fire a powerful energy charge.

“Welcome, Summoner Natan. I trust your trip to the planet’s surface was fruitful,” said Ilchi. “I want you to meet the Warlord of the Torrent Mountain City-state, Lord Samir. He is our guest. He was also the master of the Bard, Brynnan Marec Mavrenn.”

If Natan was offended by Samir remaining seated, he did not show it. Instead, he smiled a cold smile.

“Lord Samir, I am sure you were informed of my mission to raise the spirit of your dead lover. It was a success. I have captured his soul.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Let me demonstrate,” said Natan.

Seating himself, he closed his eyes. His expression became unfocused, then subtly changed, losing the cold arrogance to become warmer and more empathic. When he spoke, Samir could not but help stiffen in shock. The Necromancer’s voice was Brynnan’s own.

“I hate seeing you in this place, my beloved Lord. I sense, too, that they have interfered with your mind.”

“Just my emotions. It’s a small device in my head.”

“I am sorry. I am under the control of this Necromancer and can do nothing.“

“What is the last thing we did together before I was captured and you were . . . killed?” Samir asked.

Natan/Brynnan replied, “We made love, you and I, then we swam by the waterfall. When the ship came, you tried to shield me.”

“Are you still able to keep secrets?”

“I can hide nothing from Ruh-çağıran Natan if he knows what to ask,” the soul replied.

Then his face changed again, becoming harder, and his eyes narrowed. The Necromancer then spoke in his own voice. “It is that simple, Lord Samir. The soul is now under my control. But I will let you speak to him often.”

“What will happen to him?” asked the Warlord.

“Leader Ilchi has given you some tours of our home here. I will take over so that you and I can talk privately. As for Brynnan, eventually, I will put the soul into one of our Empty Ones, sleepers who lost their souls during their frozen stasis. Brynnan will become a revenant and my slave, but he will be treated humanely.”

“You can say that and mean it?” said Samir in wonder. “I find it abhorrent.”

“We have different cultural values,” Natan shrugged.

But Samir noticed the not-too-happy expression on Leader Ilchi’s face.

* * *

“You should go soon,” Geraint said to Kyros as they sat in the forest near the Mound. “I will stay as long as there is fox-fire on the tomb and the Ravens gather. It could be a long wait. It means something of great import, I am sure. If there is another visitation of any sort, I should be here as a witness. And I will be safer now I can reach Nijal Silver-hand mind-to-mind.”

“He would tell us if there is a summoning of troops?” said Kyros.

“I’m sure of it.”

Kyros sighed. “We will yet stay awhile, as long as my brethren of the Deieros can spare us.”

They watched Orion coming towards them, naked and still wet from his swim. He carried his sword as Kyros had taught him. Earlier that morning, the Ravens being quiet, they had risked practice swordplay, and Geraint had afterwards watched as Kyros and Orion wrestled together.

“Come over here, my erômenos,” said Kyros. He had tied his multiple black braids back from his face. Kyros was a handsome man with a trimmed black beard, olive skin, and well-formed muscles.

Orion dropped gracefully down between Geraint and his erastês. Kyros leaned over and kissed him with tender sensuality.

“Greet our friend, my boy,” Kyros said, and the lad turned to Geraint.

A mutual desire came over the three. Geraint and Kyros stripped off the remainder of their clothing, although they kept their bows and swords at hand. Kyros reached over and kissed the old Warrior with an intensity that aroused Geraint’s passions. Both of the men took turns kissing young Orion. Kyros then sent Orion to fetch their dwindling bottle of lubricant.

They began to touch and stroke each other. By mutual consent, Kyros and the old Warrior kept Orion between them and made him lie down on his back. Both men moved in on the boy’s cock to lick and suck it. Orion had a well-proportioned cock, smooth and straight, and it very quickly became hard, matching Kyros’ cock in size. Geraint’s penis outweighed each of theirs with its thickness and length, ending at the broad mushroom head. Orion was learning to take it more comfortably in his ass. So was Kyros, for that matter.

Kyros did so now. He was on top of his boy, fucking him in the ass when Geraint moved behind him. He pushed his fingers into Kyros as the man thrust into his young lover. Then, mounting him, he introduced the thick cock-head into Kyros’ rectal passage. The man paused in his own thrusts and moaned in ecstasy. Thus together, they fucked, with Geraint letting Kyros set the pace and him following.

“Perhaps we will teach you to take both cocks at once, my erômenos,” Kyros grinned.

“For you, I would try, my Lord,” breathed the young man.

The older erastês was the first to cum inside his lover’s ass, and Orion followed, stroking himself to the culmination of his desire. Geraint heard the boys ecstatic moans as his cum spilled over his hand, and it caused his own ejaculation.

He was finding that Nijal’s blood in him was having its stated effect when it came to sex: his orgasms were more intense, and he had even less difficulty achieving an erection. Their joinings were a comfort to his underlying grief.

* * *

Later that day, Geraint received a mind-communication from Nijal. ‘You will want to know that the Invaders’ ships are landing at different City-States and Redoubts. Their invasion begins. My Alsar brothers keep me informed. Some rulers are already bringing their citizens into the Redoubts to keep them safe.’

‘Can we not fight them?’ Geraint inquired.

‘Their distance weapons prevent the soldiers from facing off with the Invaders, but we Alsar have a plan. It relies on the dead—on Brynnan.’

‘What can a spirit do, Nijal?’

‘We will wait and see, old Warrior.’

‘Does Kyros need to return?’ Geraint sent mental images of the erastês and his boy.

‘Tell him his Captain, Cadmus, gives leave for them to stay until the Deieros come from Redstone.’

Geraint felt grateful.

* * *

Onboard the Invader’s Mothership, The Necromancer Ruh-çağıran Natan had taken on the responsibility to conduct the Warlord to see different parts of the ship. He seemed to be unusually forthcoming about the functions of each area. The Mothership was truly a marvellous construct, set up to support fragile human life in the Long Dark. Recently, Samir had been shown an engineering complex, where giant machines controlled the life support functions.

Samir committed himself to lull the senses of the Sojourners, as they called themselves, asking thoughtful questions and expressing wonder. Privately, he thought he never would have shown anything of import if their situation was reversed. He couldn’t imagine showing them the Redoubts on his own world, but they seemed eager to win him over.

On one such exploration, Natan finished by inviting him to his apartment. Samir followed him, curious. They entered a dim room in the apartment, lit by a soft red glow.

“I will let you speak to your Bard’s soul,” said Natan. “I will allow it a certain amount of autonomy in action but do not think you can overpower me while the soul is in the ascendant.”

Samir gestured for the Necromancer to continue. Natan sat very still and closed his eyes. The expression on his face softened, and he said, in Brynnan’s voice.

“My dear Lord. It doesn’t matter if Natan hears us or not. He will not trouble us too much longer.”

The soul moved beside Samir and leaned into his shoulder. The Warlord found his arm automatically go around Brynnan/Natan’s body.

“Is it really you, my Bard?”

“Yes, my Lord.” He turned in Samir’s arms and kissed him. The lips were not Brynnan’s, but the kiss was. Samir returned it. Even though his emotions were not engaged, his thoughts were, and he knew that he loved this soul beyond bearing and knew he wanted him.

“Can you not enter into me, soul?”

“I will not leave the Necromancer at this time.”

“Necromancer, if you can hear me, I am going to fuck my Bard. Your body will not be harmed. Do not try to stop me.”

The Necromancer was silent. Samir took it as a signal to proceed. He stripped the Necromancer’s body, aware of the wrist weapon’s proximity but determined to stop at nothing. Rationality told him he was taking a risk, but he needed to do this, to prove . . . what?

Ruh-çağıran Natan’s body was unblemished, except for a strange sigil on his chest formed of a glittering metallic skin. His physique was slender and smooth but had a muscular definition. Samir could not help compare it to Brynnan’s own body, with its pattern of swirling dark hair, whereas Natan was hairless.

“Take this body, my Lord,” Brynnan’s soul said.

“Make it suck me, Brynnan,” the Warlord commanded.

The body did so, although it seemed to balk at first.

“This will not harm you, Necromancer. It is a customary part of the act,” he told it.

The soul, however, directed the body well, and it was Brynnan’s own skilled actions that performed on Samir’s proud cock until pre-cum flowed, and the Warlord pulled his cock away. Without being told, the body turned over in a practiced move, exposing its ass, and Samir moved on it. He risked the body feeling pain as he entered without ceremony, using his pre-cum as lubrication.

“Keep going, my lover,” said the soul.

Samir grasped Brynnan/Natan’s hips and thrust hard, aware of his own body’s driving need. He was mindful of his response as the need to cum gripped him. With a gasp, he ejaculated and noted his own pleasure response. Before he disengaged, he briefly felt as if Brynnan’s soul transferred to his own and melded there, causing feeling to burst upon him – a surge of pure love. He cried out with loss when it withdrew again, and inside he vowed revenge upon those who had put the implant in his brain. He hoped that if they restored him to his home, Nijal would remove it. He knew he must now walk carefully in his dealings with the Invaders.

But as he held still to Ruh-çağıran Natan’s form, he became aware of the return of the Necromancer’s spirit to control. He felt the body stiffen in his arms.

“Don’t struggle. I am not harming you. This is normal.” Samir gently let go and moved back to allow the Necromancer’s freedom of movement again.

Natan sat upright and blinked. “This feels . . . interesting. So this is lovemaking?”

“No, that was ‘fucking’. ‘Lovemaking’ requires an exchange of emotions.”

“Then what was its purpose?”

“It can be used for many things: to assert dominance over another, to intimidate or hurt, to enhance a pair-bonding, to comfort or reassure . . . when done with a female of our species in another way, it is used for reproduction. I desired to establish a pair-bonding with my lover’s soul in this instance. It is much more effective when emotions are felt. Have you not done it?”

“Only when I desired to use it in a Summoning. You did not mention that.”

“Magical experiences are outside the scope of my normal activities.”

“Hmm . . . this experiment may bear repeating. I might want to try it when I am present in my body.”

“Ruh-çağıran Natan, I will fuck you anytime you wish,” stated the Warlord.

The Necromancer looked at him suspiciously, but Samir’s expression was bland.

“We will clean ourselves. Then there is one more place I want to show you this diurnal period.”

“This day . . .” corrected the Warlord.

* * *

The Warlord and the Necromancer took a transport pod that moved them through a tunnel at rapid speed. They alighted into another vast space filled with machines.

“I don’t quite know why I show you this,” said Natan, almost to himself, “However, it is a vital part of our workings. Your people once most likely had such in your Redoubts—perhaps you have them still, if you can find them. They are very dangerous if you don’t know their workings. We would be willing to show you if you will take the technicians we offer you and seek out your own machines.”

Samir’s senses went on high alert. Were they getting at the heart of the reason for these ‘tours’? He knew that his world’s Redoubts were to be defended at all costs. He showed no reaction but merely responded, “I don’t know if we have them until I know what you would show me.”

The Necromancer beckoned him on, and they entered a room with hovering images of the machines. Men and women in orange clothing moved about the room. They stopped and bowed to Natan.

The Necromancer turned to Samir. “This is the power plant that supports our weapons. The machines provide energy for the plasma beams of our wrist weapons and for certain other devices that our landing ships possess. The power is almost limitless and requires very little fuel. Our Mothership can mine asteroids for rare earths, but we know there are much richer sources upon your planet. We wish to establish contracts to mine these materials in our future alliance. It would benefit your people enormously as we would gift you the technology to improve your lives.”

Samir understood at last. This was the ultimate goal of the Invaders. They needed the mined materials to renew the power of their ship’s weapons and perhaps for other things. He was aware that he was on the cusp of danger if he responded wrongly. The Invaders could stop negotiating and start destroying if things did not go their way.

“This will take much thought, but I do see possibilities. Since I have been made aware of the many wonders of your ship, your home, it points out our own lack of amenities and life enhancements by contrast. Would you, Leader Ilchi and perhaps your Captains and Engineers be willing to attend a conference with our Council of Seven? Depending on its success, we would be in a position to sway the other city-states by our own example.”

Ruh-çağıran Natan gave the Warlord a long, considering look, then he seemed to come to a decision. “I will present your proposal to our own Council. It would make a fruitful start to resolve our difficult issues. Your world is vastly underpopulated. Mining and settling rights would barely make an impact on your own population. You would be making the correct decision.”

After conversing more with the Technicians, they left the area to head back to the living quarters. The Necromancer stopped as they walked along the corridor towards Samir’s assigned quarters. His eyes unfocused, and he seemed to sway. When he spoke, it was Brynnan’s voice.

“Go carefully, my lover; we are nearly there. I steered Ruh-çağıran Natan to show us the Weapons Plant. I don’t know if I can reach Nijal, but I will try. Now this Necromancer will suggest you couple with him without my control. I advise you to accept. He is curious. I will be quiet for a while but be assured of my presence.”

Then the Necromancer seemed to come to himself. “I felt a momentary disturbance. It sometimes happens when one wrestles with having a bond-spirit inside, but its struggles are fruitless.”

At the doorway of Samir’s room, Ruh-çağıran Natan paused. “I would enter with you. Are you willing to try the experiment with our two bodies that I proposed earlier?”

“I don’t know how fully I can engage sexually without my emotions, but I would let you have your experiment.”

“I would have my way with you, Samir, and engage in this sexual intercourse. It will not harm you.”

Samir laughed. “I have taken my share of cocks. I have no objections. We can celebrate our coming alliance.”

Natan smiled his cold smile, but his black eyes shone. “Indeed, already I feel my own penis —my ‘cock’—hardening at the thought.”

They entered the room together. Natan gazed at the Warlord’s powerful physique when both had stripped naked. His black eyes roved over Samir’s body, taking in the tight muscles and grey-furred chest.

“You have so much power. Gravity is stronger on your world. Our own bodies had no need for such body mass, but we will adapt to conditions when we settle there.”

 He stepped forward and ran his hands over Samir’s chest and flat stomach with its defined abdominals. Then he instructed Samir to kneel on all fours on the sleeping platform.

“You should try having me suck your cock first. Your pre-cum will act as a lubricant and help increase your hardness. If you don’t believe me, consult Brynnan’s soul. He had your body suck my cock.”

“Ah, yes. I will try it. Perhaps I will employ the technique in future Summonings.”

Samir knelt. Although Natan was tall, Samir bent his head to reach the cock. It was much shorter than Samir’s own but still a good length and thickness. Samir took it in his mouth and sucked without employing the more refined sensual techniques. Nevertheless, the Necromancer responded quickly, and his cock became harder. He began to breathe more deeply.

Samir desisted and positioned himself on the platform without being told, waiting. He grunted as he felt Natan’s cock enter him.

The man began to thrust in increasing rhythm. In a short while, he said, “I feel my ejaculation coming, but I will hold fast to your Bard’s soul lest it transfers.”

With a groan, Natan shot his load.  For long moments he sagged across the Warlord’s broad back, then straightened. Pulling out, he asked Samir, “But what of your own ejaculation?”

The Warlord turned and faced him. “Without emotion, it is not as easy to cum.”

“I am sure you can make yourself do it. I will watch.”

Samir smiled crookedly. “But of course,” he said.

He grasped his considerable member and began to jerk himself off with rapid strokes. Natan’s gaze greedily fastened on his cock. Samir’s ball sack tightened as he felt himself cumming before copious amounts of semen fountained and spilled over over his hand.

“My Bard always licked me clean,” he told the Necromancer. “Would it not enhance your power if you took my seed in such a manner?”

Ruh-çağıran Natan could not resist the offer. He bent over the Warlord and sucked his cock clean. He did not seem to mind the taste of cum.

Samir knew that he was entangling the Necromancer deeper in his lust, using the man’s feelings to ensnare him. He thanked the Powers that his own feelings were rendered inactive, or he might have inadvertently expressed his distaste. But now he understood more of Brynnan’s plan, and he realized that Natan had not possessed the Bard’s spirit. Brynnan had possessed the Necromancer!

* * *