Col and Andri: The Vanna Stallions

A Strike to the Heart

Moonlight illuminated the glade where the participants met. Present were Geraint, Brynnan, Col, Andri and Aled. Keven and Gethen arrived last, looking excited. Geraint smiled, suspecting that the young guard and the horse groom had been “warming up” for the coming sexual encounter.

They gathered to say farewell to Brynnan, who was leaving after his three-day visit to celebrate Col and Andri’s handfasting at the Wanderer’s Spring Gathering. Brynnan had spent the last two nights in Col and Andri’s tent, making love together, and tonight they planned to make love again, but this time, joined by their travelling companions.

Andri put his arm around the Bard’s waist, and in response, Brynnan hooked his around Andri’s neck and kissed him. Then he held out his other arm to Col, who joined them.

“Geraint, you are our Master of Ceremonies,” the Shadow Lord’s son said.

“I suppose I am, seeing as I have a standing order from our Warlord to look after you whenever I can. Alright, some ground rules: first, all of us can join in arousing Brynnan with kissing, sucking and licking, but m’Lord Samir’s constraints say that only myself, Andri and Col will fuck him. Travelling the shadow paths between places takes up a lot of energy for you folks that don’t know. One way to counter it is by creating sexual energy—“

Col interrupted his friend and teacher. “Think of it like feeding a horse honey and oats: a rich feed before a race.”

“Thanks for that, lad. I suppose that comparison works.” He laughed and shook his head. “But, as I was saying, other than that, you may love each other as you like. As for our surroundings, you can hear the river nearby, and Aled and I found this big fallen tree trunk.”

“And we know what you two used it for!” joked the normally-reserved Gethen.

The company relaxed. They stripped off their clothes, then shared a wineskin that Keven had brought.

“What say we welcome our visitor?” said Col, beckoning to the others, who willingly approached.

“Are you comfortable with all this?” Andri said in a low voice to Brynnan. “I remember our time as captives of the Deieros on the plains before we resolved our differences with them.”

“Put your mind at ease, my heart’s son. So much has changed since then. I feel relaxed with your friends.”

Aled was the first to kiss Brynnan, boldly taking his mouth and pushing his tongue inside. Brynnan responded readily, and it encouraged the others to approach. In short order, Gethen knelt behind Brynnan, gripping his ass-cheeks to rim the anal ring, and Keven ventured to kneel opposite and suck the Bard’s cock. Andri and Col pushed in close, sucking their lover’s nipples.

Brynnan was inundated with hot mouths, licking tongues and stroking hands. He relaxed into it, giving himself to all of them. When Aled urged him to lie down, he settled on a blanket on his back and spread his legs open. Then it was Geraint’s turn to act. He lay between the Bard’s legs and sucked on his testicles, pulling each one into his mouth. Brynnan moaned, for Geraint knew he was particularly fond of having his balls licked and sucked. The old Warrior’s skilled mouth made him writhe in ecstasy.

Aled was not idle, for he lay over Geraint’s lower body and probed his furry ass with his tongue. Keven knelt over Brynnan’s stiff rod to lick the pre-cum before taking it all in his mouth. Aroused by seeing this, Gethen brought the bottle of lubricant over. He drizzled it over Keven’s exposed anus before slicking some over his own cock. He gripped his lover’s hips and pushed his cock inside. As soon as Keven could take it, Gethen began to fuck him, but the young groom did not stop sucking.

Col and Andri stayed kneeling beside Brynnan’s head. The Bard took their cocks in hand, jerking them off before he brought them, one then the other, to his lips, sucking them in all the way. But soon, he gasped, saying, “Keven, I’m cumming in your mouth.”

As the Bard began to ejaculate, Geraint was first to claim  Brynnan’s ass, rearing up to sink his cock inside him, even as Brynnan’s cock still spurted cum and Keven lapped it up. The old Warrior’s phallus was significantly large and thick, stretching the rectal passage, but Geraint hardly paused, fucking Brynnan’s ass hard. As Keven broke away, the Bard raised his legs, hooking them around the old Warrior’s extended arms to expose himself more.

Since Nijal, the Alsar Guardian and surgeon, had shared his blood with Brynnan, the Bard had increased capacity for sexual pleasure, able to cum many times in a session. Thus, Geraint, who also shared the same gift, had no mercy on him, pounding him into submission.

Aled moved up behind Geraint, pushing him down over the Bard’s body, and mounted his ass as the old Warrior continued fucking. Aled’s hard penis slid into Geraint, and he fucked him in the same rhythm. When the old Warrior came, Col and Andri swapped places with him. Brynnan manoeuvred so that both young men could doubly penetrate him, their cocks sliding in and out of his already well-lubricated rectal passage.

Then Gethen and Keven moved in on either side of the Bard and masturbated over his face and chest while Brynnan played with their balls until their hot cum splashed over him. But after his multiple ejaculations, Brynnan seemed finally overcome and lay limply on the blanket, embracing Col and Andri, who lay on either side of him. Eventually, everyone was replete. After resting, the companions swam in the river before sitting on the shoreline to talk and relax.

Brynnan beckoned to Keven and kissed him sensually. “You are developing a skilled mouth. Gethen is doing a fine job of training you.”

“Yes, well, others have helped me. I guess I am overcoming my shyness. I, too, wish you could stay, Brynnan. I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I plan to visit Andri and Col at ArMor-ys at Andri’s next graduation if circumstances and my Lord permit, and I shall seek you out.”

After saying farewell, the friends dispersed, leaving Geraint, Andri and Col with the Bard.

Brynnan summoned his harp from the shadow spaces where he had learned to keep it. “One last song before I leave you. Andri, join me in singing “The Warrior and the Raven.”

“Isn’t that grim for a parting song?” asked Col.

“I feel a little sad. Indulge me,” Brynnan replied.

So he and Andri sang to Mavrenn’s enchanting tones, their voices weaving together. Geraint reflected that if Brynnan used the Shadow-singing technique, he could not detect it. However, instead of the regret he usually experienced on hearing it, he felt almost a sense of comfort.

At the song’s end, Brynnan kissed each of his friends. “I shall leave you now.”

He stood, wrapped in his black cloak, with his harp in his arms. As the others watched, the temperature around them dropped. Gradually, Brynnan’s form rippled with waves of rainbow light. The light shot up into the sky, and Brynnan dissolved within it. A painfully bright flash of blue, like an exploding star, bathed the three remaining companions then the light was gone.

Andri blinked the after-image away and found himself standing in the natural, pale moonlight. He could hear the sounds of the river once more. Wiping a tear from his eye, he said, “Well, that’s all, I suppose. But I can understand why Brynnan did not want the others to see him go.”

“I wonder what anyone in camp might have seen?” said Col. “Hopefully, they were all fast asleep.”

Geraint clapped a hand on Col’s shoulder and swept an arm around Andri. “Come on, we three can return to your tent and keep each other company.”

*    *    *

The morning finally dawned that Col had been looking forward to: he was to inspect the Vanna stallions. He and Andri, Keven and Geraint met with Col’s father, Kyan, and his brother, Rafe. Kashi had agreed to meet them at the herd.

“How many do you have for me to look at, dad?”

Kyan answered his son. “We have six. They are all older stallions, proven studs that have already passed on their good qualities, so we know they will breed true.”

It was only a short ride to where the stallions were picketed. Kashi stood beside one black stallion awaiting them. After running his hands over them, Col put each horse through its paces.

Andri admired them immensely, particularly impressed when they performed their natural, high floating trot with necks arched and tails held high. They all had long flowing hair: manes, tails, forelegs. Hair grew a hand’s length under their chins, looking almost like beards.

“They are so beautiful,” Andri told Geraint. “And Col will be in charge of breeding them with the ArMynydd mares to produce horses fit for battle. But won’t all that long hair be a liability in fighting?”

“Long hair can be managed,” Geraint replied. But it’s also protective. The feathering on their lower legs protects against cuts and scrapes. Besides, we’ll see what traits come to the fore in the cross-breed.”

They paused to watch Col take the stallions over some jumps arranged in the meadow. Horses were not Andri’s area of expertise, but even he could see their power as the stallions cleared the jumps with height to spare.

“Aren’t their natures too gentle for battle?” he asked Kashi.

Kashi explained patiently. “Don’t mistake their steady natures for lack of courage. Far from it: they have been bred to remain collected when exposed to disturbance. They have great hearts and are intensely loyal to their human family—all traits that benefit a war horse. You want an animal that can bond tightly with its human partner.”

“They certainly demonstrate power and grace,” Andri conceded.

It was Keven’s turn to ride the chosen horses so Col could stand back and evaluate each one’s movements. Andri refrained from questioning his lover, knowing how much Col needed to concentrate.

The sun moved to the day’s midpoint before Col called a halt. “We’ll take a break, then continue in the afternoon. There are more tests I want to do, but I’m starting to favour two of them in particular: the black-and-white ‘paint’ and the black stallion with the silver-shaded mane and tail. Both have the conformation I want, and they really paid attention to my commands. I think they are exceptionally intelligent.”

Col’s father, Kyan, laughed and slapped his son’s shoulder. “We think alike, my son. They are my two picks, but I didn’t want to say anything and influence you.”

Col grinned. “I would like to take them all, but we’ll start with the two. Maybe next year, I can choose more.”

Keven interrupted, “I do see a problem with the painted stallion, though.”

“Oh? And what’s that, Kev?” asked Col.

“I am not a Wanderer but a total stranger who acts and even smells different from your people. Yet the paint immediately let me handle him however I wanted. I think he’s too trusting. I like to see a horse investigate a stranger.”

“Hmm . . . I see your point. I’ll check the stallion’s offspring. We don’t want one whose nature is too easygoing.”

Leaving them to their discussion, Andri walked around a little, exchanging greetings with some onlookers whose friendliness encouraged him. But as the young bard headed back toward his friends, he noticed three men who stood away from the others and talked among themselves in low voices. When Andri caught their eyes, their expressions hardened. The young bard tried to think where he might have previously seen them before suddenly realizing they were Soli’s companions whom he had noticed at the wrestling match. Although he was no Seer like Eleni or even Col, Andri felt a distinct sense of discomfort. He wanted to dismiss the feeling, but Col had repeatedly told him to trust his instincts.

Andri walked back to his friends, but before he even reached them, Col’s mind-voice hailed him. ‘Something troubles you, ves’tacha.’

‘I see Soli’s friends, but there’s no sign of him,’ he responded.

‘I’ll tell my dadrus; he can help keep a watch,” Col sent. ‘ Now I want you to stay near us unless Gethen or Keven is with you. I will speak to Puridai Eleni later.’

‘Yes, my beloved spouse. Now let us see these horses again.’

*    *    *

Far away, in the Torrent Mountain Redoubt, Brynnan sensed his Lord’s arrival. His heart beat in anticipation. He was freshly bathed and changed, wearing loose clothing. Mavrenn stood once more near the massive bed in their sleeping chamber as if awaiting a summons, as did the Bard.

The chamber door opened, and Samir walked in. The Warlord stopped when he beheld the man whom he loved. He approached and took the Shadow Lord’s son in his arms, holding him tightly, feeling his lover’s head rest on his broad chest.

“Brynnan. I am glad you’re back. I hope your visit with your two young friends was satisfactory.”

“It was, my Lord. I have missed them. Geraint was there, of course, and we three reconnected.”

“I trust your ass isn’t too sore?” Samir asked with a wry smile.

“No, my dear lover,” Brynnan replied.

“That’s good because I need to fuck you now.”

He tilted the Bard’s chin to meet his lips and kissed him deeply. They undressed each other, then Samir pulled Brynnan onto the bed. Before Samir could take his lover, however, he felt a sense of sadness from him.

“There is some disturbance in your mind. What ails you, Brynnan?”

“Andri, Col and Geraint are caught in a current of events that will sweep them into danger, yet I could not warn them. My Father, Arawn, forbids me.”

“If the Lord of the Shadow Lands forbade it, I am sure he has a good reason.”

“Or he seeks souls . . .”

“Come now; you cannot solve everything.”

Samir then switched to mind-sending. ‘Give it up to me, dear heart. Let me love you.’

‘Always, my Master.’

Brynnan gripped Samir’s body, feeling the Warlord’s massive cock enter his ass.

*    *    *

At the evening meal, Col announced his intention to choose the paint and the silver-black stallions. “But I will do more work with them over the coming days. And we will seek out their offspring,” he added.

Rafe, playing with his daughter, said, “Kashi and I will collect them for you.”

The family spoke for a while until Col said, “Grandmother Eleni, you are quiet tonight. Have you no words for us?”

“I feel a troubling in the time-to-be, but it is unclear as yet.”

“There is always a troubling, mother,” Kyan stated. “It is known as “life.” And I mean no disrespect by that.”

“I know, my son. But Col did ask.”

“But please tell us, Grandmother, if your concerns grow,” urged Col.

“I will. But several factors arise. Today some traders visited another vitsa in our Gathering. These traders, originally of the Rashi kumpania, are permitted and have attended for many years. But who knows if a gájikano —a stranger was among them?”

Kyan said thoughtfully. “I’ll look into it tomorrow.”

Eventually, the family retired for the night. Rafe’s wife, Sara, presented the children to the others before sweeping them away to their vardo. When she offered baby Kamlo to Col, he held him and felt a sense of connection with the child. He was tempted to send a small mind probe to see if the baby was responsive but resisted the urge. Then Sara took the child, and the moment passed.

“I think I will give you two some space tonight and sleep with Aled,”  Geraint announced to Andri and Col.

“As you wish,” replied Col. “But you know you are always welcome.”

*    *    *

Andri and Col slept quietly after making love. The night seemed peaceful but lonelier without their friend, Brynnan. However, Col dreamed about the horses he had inspected. A great beast seemed to be chasing them. Col tossed and turned before dragging himself awake to escape the dream. Opening his eyes, he became aware that Eleni was calling him.

‘Grandson, come awake. There is trouble with the horses—‘

‘I sense it, Grandmother. Or rather, I sense an absence of one of the stallions . . .’

Just then, Geraint burst into the tent. “Brishind is gone!” he announced. “I have a mental bond with Shade’s colt and can feel his distress. Let’s go!”

Col was already dressing. He left the tent with Geraint, and Andri was only moments behind them.

Alerted, Rafe jumped down from his wagon. “I’ll help get the horses!”

While Geraint took his horse, Shade, Col seized the black Vanna stallion. It was agitated, but the young Horsemaster quickly calmed it.  

Geraint said, “Look! His tether was cut. I think they tried to take him, but he probably resisted.”

“I think you’re right, but I sense that the painted stallion is gone,” Col replied.

Andri wanted to ride with them, but Col insisted he stay. “I rely on you to be here, and there’s no time to discuss it. Get Gethen and Aled. Gethen must stay with you, and Aled can ride after us. Keven will stay and see to our other horses.”

Col leaned down and briefly kissed his lover before turning the stallion and setting off with Geraint at his side into the moonlit meadow.

 

The night sky was lightening faintly, but Col soon realized it was foolish to continue searching further. They needed to find the traders and alert the headman. There was also the question of who had aided the thieves, whoever they were. It had been a targeted event, specifically aimed at himself and . . .Geraint? He questioned his friend as they rode back.

“Why would the thieves take Brishind? I can understand them targeting Andri and me—and you know who I suspect—but who has a score to settle with you? And how could they have lured Shade’s colt against its will?”

“We will find answers, but we need to apply our wits,” the old Warrior responded. “I do suspect that they might have drugged the colt. My mind received a burst of fear and anger from Brishind, but there is silence now, except for flickers telling me he is still alive. Curse them! When I find whoever is doing this, I will gut them.”

This last comment was delivered in such a flat and final tone that Col shivered, never doubting that Geraint would hold to his word. His own anger was great, but he had no intention of killing anyone, least of all a possible kinsman.

*    *    *

“No, no and no! You are not coming with me! It’s too great a risk.” Col frowned in distress as he assembled the gear he would take with him. “I need to know you are here safe. My family and Kev and Gethen will look after you.”

“I am not a child to be coddled. How can I let you go into danger by yourself?” said Andri, sounding frustrated.

“I won’t be by myself; Geraint and Aled will be with me.”

“Col, you know what I mean—”

Col suddenly embraced his newly espoused lover. “Me mangav tut, never doubt it!”

“And I love you too. That’s why I don’t want to stay behind.”

“Please, you are a bard in training. Don’t be ruled only by your emotions, ves’tacha. Now, what would a Ruithin bard do?”

“Disappear into rainbow light; summon the Wild Hunt to track my enemies, and set a monstrous underworld dog on them!”

Col shook his head in exasperation. “No! You are not Brynnan. I wish he were still here, but he’s not, and it’s up to us. Now please help me, Andri: don’t challenge me now.”

Andri looked rueful and bent his head in acceptance. “Very well, my husband. Go, and trust me.”

“If you need to, speak with Púridaia Eleni. And concentrate on her teachings—it will keep your mind calm.”

Col left to join Geraint and Aled, who waited for him. Eleni descended from her wagon as they mounted their horses, and Col rode up to her.

“Grandson, your trail lies east, towards Hesperon. Your father will alert Silvanus, and we will find out who betrayed us. I will look after your beloved. But be very careful: I sense danger to you from an unexpected source, but you will meet one you thought was lost. Ashen Devlesa—go with God.”

“I will be careful, Púridaia. And you—watch out for Soli and his friends, and take care of Andri.”

Col wheeled the silver-shaded black stallion he rode. He looked back as the small party left, raising a hand to his family members gathered behind him. Then a thought settled into his mind, ‘My dear husband, I won’t disturb you, but my thoughts and my heart are with you . . .’

Standing beside Kyan and Rafe, Andri looked on, his heart filled with fear and hope.

*    *    *

To be continued . . .