To Redeem His People

Renaissance

While the daily conference meetings took place between the Sojourners/Invaders and the Alliance, Prince Jehanadir’s young lover, Shahin, invited the young men accompanying their older lovers to a meeting in the common room of the Prince’s apartments. He felt nervous. Jehanadir had been a possessive lover until they had encountered Brynnan, the Warlord Samir’s Bard and lover. His sexual healing intervention had wrought a change in Jehanadir’s attitude, and the Prince no longer felt threatened.

When the young men began to arrive, Shahin stood to greet them. Col and Andri were first. They had travelled from the Ruithin College in ArMor-ys: Andri was in Bardic training and Col, a young Wanderer, was an apprentice to the Chief Horsemaster, Gabrien. The boys appraised each other with frank curiosity. Shahin had a dancer’s body with long blond hair tied back with a silk cord and a honey-coloured skin tone. Col was of the race of Wanderers and bore their stamp: curly black hair touching his shoulders, light brown skin and dark eyes. He was lithe yet muscular. Once Geraint’s sexual apprentice and a student of Brynnan’s, Andri was a tall young man with a mop of blond streaked dark hair, dark eyebrows, and calm, grey-blue eyes.

“Is it a challenge being a Prince’s boy?” asked Col with characteristic curiosity.

“I don’t know,” replied Shahin. “He is very good to me. I had never been anyone else’s lover until Brynnan shared his body with us. I nearly was assaulted by the Invaders that kidnapped me, but I was rescued in time.”

Andri looked down, “I, too, was kidnapped and used by a ruthless Lady and her Lord. It would have scarred me, I think, but Brynnan and I faced our monsters together, and I have learned from the experience, but it will never define me.”

At that moment, two other youths entered the chamber. Both bowed to Shahin.

“Oh, don’t stand on courtesy with me,” Shahin smiled. “I’m Shahin. I expect you know Andri and Col.”

“My name is Orion,” said the brown-haired youth. His countenance was open and friendly, and his body looked very fit. “I am an erômenos to my erastês, Kyros. We belong to the Brotherhood of Deieros.”

He turned to Andri. “Andri, forgive me, but I know somewhat of your story when you encountered my erastês. What you did for him, sharing your body, was selfless and kind. You will never know how much it helped him. It opened him up to meet me, and we have come to love each other, as well as that he is my trainer and mentor.”

Andri impulsively stepped up and embraced Orion. “That, too, was a difficult time for me. I thought I’d be taken by your Brotherhood of Deieros.”

The last member of their party introduced himself. He seemed to be a little older than the other youths. “And my name is Fahd. Shahin, I know. Last year I was with my father, the trader, Hazrad, who brought special goods for Prince Jehanadir each year.” He looked at Shahin. “I am sorry we did not bring the Prince his goods this year—”

“Don’t worry about it, Fahd,” replied Shahin. “With Brynnan, we found another source. Speaking of Brynnan Marec Mavrenn, we all seem to have a connection with him. What’s yours, Fahd?”

Fahd’s face reddened slightly. “Brynnan and Nijal saved me from a very foolish action. I ended up nearly being killed by a . . . spirit, I guess you’d call it. My life was nearly drained until Brynnan vanquished the spirit and restored me.”

“How did he restore you?” asked Col inquisitively.

Fahd lowered his eyes. “They both put their cocks in my ass, at the same time, and fucked me. Their cum must have been very potent because it worked. It was the first time I had that done to me—not just two cocks, but I mean any cocks.”

“Would you like to try it again?” asked Col, grinning mischievously.

“Let’s see how it goes. I’m willing to participate, and Geraint taught me to suck cock, but I haven’t had my ass taken since then.”

“It seems to me,” said Andri, “that we all owe Brynnan a debt, and some of us were fortunate to be lessoned by the old Warrior, Geraint, too.”

“Why don’t we invite them here?” asked Col. “Would it be forbidden?”

“The Prince has given me permission to share myself today, so that would mean with Brynnan also. But how do we call them here? They are in the conference,” said Shahin.

“I will do it,” said Col. “I can touch Brynnan’s mind. I have been practising.”

Col concentrated his thoughts on summoning the Bard. His mind technique was hesitant, but he managed to reach his target.

‘Col. Is everything alright?’ Brynnan projected.

‘No trouble. I am with Shahin. We want you to bring Geraint and join us.’

‘I would like that. I will ask my Lord Samir. We are at the conference, but there will be a rest period shortly. I can attend then,’ Brynnan formed his reply, sending feelings of warmth and agreement.

Col’s smile told the others everything they needed to know.

After sharing drinks and talking about their various adventures, Col began by shedding his clothes. The others looked at his strong young body with appreciative glances.

“Come on now. Who’s going to join me first? The rest of you too shy?”

There were denials as the others followed suit. Andri paired up with Shahin, and Col took on Fahd and Orion. He happily knelt and began to suck their cocks, alternating between them. Andri and Shahin moved to a couch where Shahin hesitantly took Andri’s cock in hand, massaging it and squeezing his testicles gently. Andri reached over to grasp Shahin, manoeuvring his body as they faced one another until their genitals were nearly touching. In that position, they masturbated each other, and Shahin gasped in excitement.

“I love doing this,” he said softly, “Jehanadir and I do it to each other when we are feeling lazy.”

“Well, don’t feel lazy for too long,” smiled Andri. “This is just the beginning.” He took more lubricant from the table beside them and slicked it over Shahin’s cock, and then his own.

“Mmm . . . that feels good,” said Shahin. They reached forward and kissed, exploring each other’s mouths.

“Who’s going to take who?” Andri asked. “Do you want to do me?”

“Yes, I’d like to try it. My Prince always fucks me, well, nearly always,” he amended.

“Better do it soon; this is exciting me too much. I don’t want to cum early.”

“Turn over, lean on the couch. I’ll fuck you from behind.”

Andri positioned himself, and Shahin moved in until he could finger Andri’s ass with more lubricant. Then he played his erect cock against the furrow, teasing and promising entry. “I can feel your frustration,” Shahin said and laughed.

“I’ll wait. I was taught by a master of denial: Geraint, himself. He used to drive me crazy until I was begging for it,” Andri replied.

Then Shahin decided to have mercy and slowly pushed his cock inside his new friend’s ass. Andri sighed with contentment. “Don’t be too slow. I can take it as rough as you like,” he told the boy.

Shahin began to apply his strokes with a will, pumping steadily into Andri’s ass.

Meanwhile, the action had heated up between Col, Orion and Fahd. They were trying to recreate Fahd’s experience of being doubly penetrated, with partial success at first. All three were laughing.

“Let me move it this way,” said Orion. “Fahd, lift your leg more.”  Orion was fucking Fahd from below, while Col took the young trader from behind.

“We need Geraint here,” Col said.

At that very moment, Geraint arrived, with Brynnan following. The old Warrior’s eyes took in the scene, assessing what each young man was doing. He approached the three. “Orion, slide down a little so that Fahd can raise his ass. That’s it. Keep in contact. Now Col, you’ll be able to stay in better. Want to make it a triple?” Geraint said, in seeming innocence.

“No, I’ll die,” gasped Fahd.

“Just teasing, lad. But you haven’t experienced my cock in your ass yet. I’m coming in as soon as these two finish.”

Brynnan was invited over by Shahin and Andri. He stripped off his Bardic robe and laid it neatly over a rack. “Did you two clean out first?”

“Of course: we all did. Geraint used to be very firm on that score,” said Andri, with some difficulty. Wait, I think Shahin is about to cum.”

“I am. Let me give it to you . . . now!” Shahin tensed then cried out as his ejaculation took place. “Yes, that’s good . . . it’s so good. I’m cumming in you.” With a few final thrusts, he slumped forward, embracing Andri’s back.

“Now lie down,” Andri said to the Bard. Shahin stepped back and took a drink out of a large goblet as Brynnan lay on the couch.

Andri leaned on top of Brynnan, and the two shared deep intimate kisses. “I have missed you, Master,” he murmured. “I was so happy when you came to see us at the College. But you worried me. You were worn out.”

“I survived thanks to you and Col. Now hush and give me your cock.”

Brynnan felt an erotic tide sweeping him as Andri’s cock entered him. He was thoroughly fucked until Andri came. The Shahin said, “Move over, Andri. I am ready to go again if Brynnan is willing.”

Brynnan welcomed the Prince’s young lover into his arms as Shahin knelt between the Bard’s legs. He revelled in being fucked by the boy, with his smooth dancer’s body. Shahin, his urgency previously satisfied, took his time, prolonging the experience. Andri stood beside them and leaned in to kiss them both. He masturbated Brynnan’s cock until the Bard surrendered to them and came, prompting Shahin to follow suit.

Geraint had just finished fucking Fahd, who only had a little difficulty handling the old Warrior’s thick cock as he was already primed by Col and Orion. Geraint came inside him, and the three youths crowded around Geraint’s furry body, kissing and licking.

At last, the group’s session was completed. As they talked, Geraint informed Orion of his latest news.

“You won’t be going home to your holding of Redstone,” he told the boy. “Lord Samir has declared that he is forming a new chapter of the Brotherhood of Deieros. Strategos Arcturus has appointed your erastês, Kyros, as its leader. You will be going to Torrent Mountain. I will be helping Kyros to choose candidates.”

Orion looked excited. “That is a great honour that Strategos Arcturus does to my Lord.”

“So you will be accompanying us,” added Geraint. “Now, come with Brynnan and me to the bathing room. You can wash my hairy back.”

Orion laughed. “With pleasure, Lord.”

“No ‘Lord,’ just an old Warrior.”

*     *     *

The meeting between the Alliance and the Sojourners wrapped up within the next five days. No actual transfers of settlers would take place for several more moons while both sides prepared. The discussions had been intense, but Brynnan gathered with his friends each evening. Sometimes they made love together and sometimes they shared activities. Brynnan, Nijal and Kyros performed the Dance of Cuts in a three-way session of calls and responses, swords flashing as they leapt at each other. Shahin also danced for them—without a sword—showing off his lithe body and sensual movements. Brynnan played his harp and sang, joined by Andri’s deep and captivating voice. Kyros, Geraint, Samir and Orion engaged in sword practice.

But for Geraint, the sweetest part was his lovemaking with Andri and Col. He had previously schooled both of them in the sexual arts, teaching them many techniques. This was a renewal of their schooling.

“What else can I do with Andri?” Col asked one late afternoon.

“I am going to teach you fisting,” Geraint replied. “It’s most comfortable if you have a sling chair the taker can lie in, with the giver in front of him. Jehanadir has had one installed for us. We can use special bathing arrangements, and you and Andri must do a deeper clean-out. I’ll instruct you how.”

Seeing the look on Andri’s face, he assured him, “Lad, you’ve had my fist one or two times in the past. We won’t be doing a deep fisting. M’Lord Samir and Brynnan will be doing that. M’Lord will allow you to watch before you and Col take my fist. Then, if you still have the energy, you can try fisting each other.”

The next day, the five friends gathered in a room where a leather-webbed sling chair had been suspended from the ceiling. Brynnan, Col and Andri were freshly prepared and ready. They agreed that Samir would take Brynnan first.

“I want you, Col and Andri, to watch, but remain silent and do not interrupt their concentration. When you deep-fist, there’s a risk involved; besides, it is the most intimate activity I can think of, so you must give them their space. I’m just grateful m’Lord has agreed to share this with us.”

The boys solemnly agreed.

The Warlord stripped for the event, then strapped his naked lover in the sling, securing his thighs and ankles in straps that left the Bard helplessly exposed. Unlike the first time Samir had deep-fisted Brynnan when the Bard had still been his captive, he left his hands free.

“Are you ready for this, my lover?” asked the Warlord in his deep voice. “I will fuck you first, as I did before.”

“I give myself to you, my Lord: body, heart and soul,” the Bard replied.

Samir leaned forward and kissed his lover, running his hands over his lithe, muscular body, stroking the silky hair on his chest and abdomen. This time, Brynnan was able to touch his Lord in return, feeling Samir’s powerful muscles. Then Samir stood back and poured lubricant on his cock and Brynnan’s ass. He stroked himself to hardness, and Andri and Col were mesmerized by the response of the Warlord’s massive phallus as it stiffened.

Samir played his cock against Brynnan’s ass before pushing it inside with one smooth motion. Brynnan, accustomed to it, accepted the cock without complaint, indeed relaxing his muscles and welcoming the strong thrust. Samir fucked the Bard until he came inside him. With a sigh, he withdrew and leaned in to kiss his lover again for some moments.

“Now, I will fist-fuck you,” he said.

He freely used the lubricant on his fist and penetrated Brynnan’s ass with his fingers. Eventually, the hand, up to the knuckles, was inside. He paused then, added more lube, and thrust the whole hand slowly inside. Brynnan moaned.

Andri and Col watched in rapt attention as the Warlord’s fist moved in deeper. Samir slowly manipulated his way through the rectal passage’s flexures and deeper into the lower colon. He worked it so that eventually, his arm was inside up to the elbow. Tears flowed down Brynnan’s face.

“Can you feel my heart yet, Lord?” he asked.

“Yes, my Bard, I feel its pulse.”

Brynnan felt a profound ecstasy as he opened his mind to his lover. He heard the sound of his own heartbeat and then Samir’s. Their two hearts beat in the same rhythm. The Warlord’s mind enwrapped the Bard’s in its pride and power, and Brynnan felt both possessed and deeply loved.

“May I cum, Lord?”

“Yes,” the Warlord replied.

Samir stroked Brynnan’s cock with his free hand as the Bard spilled his seed over it.

When they were finished, Samir bathed their genitals and towelled them off. Then he released Brynnan, taking him to the nearby couch where they lay against each other, Samir whispering words the others could not hear.

Geraint prepared the sling chair for his boys and called Col first. He secured his thighs and his wrists.

“This is so you can learn trust,” he said to Col.

Andri came over to assist as Geraint began. He did not fuck the young Wanderer but slowly and gradually started with his steepled fingers. He waited at each stage until Col told him to continue. The fist gradually went in, but Geraint kept it in the rectal passage, slowly moving and twisting his fist so that Col cried out. Andri, beside them, could not help stroking himself as he kissed Col and Geraint.

The old Warrior continued until Col’s cock stiffened and pulsed, then he withdrew. Col protested, but Geraint was insistent.

“Now you, Andri. You’ve had my fist before. Col will do it to you.”

He poured lubricant on Col’s hand and gave him explicit instructions. “Slow and easy does it until you both become familiar with one another,” he told them.

Col had difficulty restraining himself as he had been left highly aroused by Geraint, but the old Warrior had him persist until Andri ejaculated.

“Come out just as slowly as you went in,” Geraint instructed.

Then it was Andri’s turn to fist Col.

“It feels strange being restrained,” Col said as he was strapped in the sling chair once more. “I’m a wild stallion; I like to run free.”

“But you’ll accept a bit and saddle from me,” Andri grinned. “You know I like to ride you.”

Col happily submitted to Andri’s fist despite his protest as Geraint talked them through it.

“You did that well,” the old Warrior said afterwards. “Now, when you are back at ArMor-ys, you will have something new to share.”

“I wonder if the Music Master would let us hang a sling chair in our room?” said Andri.

*    *    *

The day came for their departure. Geraint turned up with an angelic smile on his face. Brynnan guessed where he had been the previous night.

“Don’t forget to say farewell to Cyndyllan’s Chieftain, Catlin Cryf,” he said.

“I did that last night,” the old Warrior replied. He lowered his voice. “Did you know she has a carved phallus she can strap on?” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “What a woman!”

“I’m not surprised,” commented Brynnan. “I saw her warrior skills at the traitor Nikarkos’ holding.”

Andri and Col would be heading back in company with King Cyndyllan and his Chieftain wife, Aerfen, the Ruithin Cadwyr, and King Rhydian.

Brynnan stood on the ground between Col and Andri’s horses. He took each of their hands.

“Will you be able to travel the Shadow-ways and visit us sometimes?” Andri asked the Bard.

“I would like to, but It is a thing not to be done lightly. I will ask permission of my Father and of Lord Samir.”

“Until then, we will keep you in our hearts,” Col replied.

At last, the leave-taking was done, and Brynnan’s group turned and headed North.

*    *    *

They took the journey back to Torrent Mountain at an unhurried pace. Geraint’s horse, Shade, was big with foal. The old Warrior had another horse with him as an alternate ride. They encountered no trouble with the Brotherhood of Deieros present and the Warlord’s own men. Eventually, they reached Redstone Holding on the Ironstrike River.

The Holding had been given over to the men of Deieros to be their own as they relocated to join the Torrent Mountain defences. Men came out to greet the Warlord’s train. They crowded around Strategos Arcturus and his erômenos, Asirin, and hailed Kyros and Orion.

In the stableyard of the Keep, boys took their horses, and Brynnan noticed three of the young stable lads as the ones who had helped him and Andri in their escape from the corrupt Lord Artagan and his Lady, Sarain. He dismounted and approached them.

“Bryn!” they shouted in delight, and the Bard introduced them to Lord Samir.

“I owe you all a great debt,” the Warlord told them. “I hope the men of Deieros treat you well.”

At that moment, they were joined by a fourth young boy with long red hair.

“Bryn, it’s me, Artan! You are safe.”

Brynnan bent down and embraced the lad. Artan had been the previous Lord’s page boy and had been the one to coordinate Brynnan and Andri’s escape through his stable lad friends.

“Thanks to you! I missed you when I got back to Torrent Mountain. My Lord told me he had found you, but you chose to stay here.”

“It’s my home,” the boy said simply, “and I didn’t want to leave my friends. But then Strategos Arcturus and his men came and took over this place. I am now his page. I think when I am old enough I would like to join them. It’s a fine thing to ride out in defence of others.”

“You have the brave heart of a bear,” said Brynnan. “I hope you will be chosen by someone worthy of you.”

Lord Samir’s party spent the night at the Holding, with time to rest and refresh themselves. Brynnan played his harp, with Ysbryd lying at his feet. To Brynnan, it could have brought back disturbing memories, but the atmosphere in the place had changed. The common people who had remained and looked after the Keep were courteous and lighter of heart, and it gladdened Brynnan to see that.

Kyros and Orion spent the evening saying farewell to their companions in the Keep. He looked forward to starting a chapter of the Deieros Warriors at Torrent Mountain at Samir’s behest.

A bright, clear summer morning saw the Warlord’s party leave for their final destination. Artan came to the courtyard to see them off and made much of Brynnan’s horse, Rhiannon and the dog Ysbryd, who tolerated his attentions with good-natured patience.

*    *    *

Their final challenge was Scarfell Pass. The party did not take the turnoff to the clearing by the waterfall, where Brynnan’s tomb remained, but they were escorted by ravens on their route down to the mineral lake, making some men uneasy. Brynnan called to the birds in a harsh raven voice as they circled overhead.

“They guard the clearing still,” commented an unusually sober Geraint, recalling the grim watch he had kept with Kyros over Brynnan’s tomb. He and Kyros instinctively closed up to Brynnan and rode closer as if to protect him.

“It is in the past now, my friends,” said the Bard. “The experience has changed us all, but it is time to let it go. We have new changes and challenges ahead of us.”

Three days later, they reached the Torrent Mountain citadel and the Redoubt. There would be no time to rest for a few days as the Council of Seven needed to be informed of the Conference results.

But at last, a quiet evening gave Lord Samir and his Bard time to relax on the terrace. Both had showered in preparation for Samir to make love to Brynnan. The bard knelt and sucked his Lord’s cock, taking his time and going slow.

“Let us go inside. I would restrain you on the bed and take you.”

Brynnan let his feelings of love and agreement brush his Lord’s mind. But as they stood, there was a swirl of cold wind around them and a silver haze formed. When it cleared, King Arawn, the Dread Lord, stood there.

“My Father!” exclaimed Brynnan.

“Do not be concerned! I have come on no deadly business. As you see, I am without my hounds.” Arawn turned and looked at Samir, who stood tall and proud. “I have come to see this man who loves my son. I know how hard it was for you to accept the Unseen and the Unknown, but it shows your commitment to the deeper truths. I owe you a debt.”

“And I owe you a great debt, Lord King. You used to be but a terrible rumour on the battlefield. Little did I know how things would come to be. When Brynnan . . . died, I was beyond myself and would have pledged to terrible destruction on all enemies I encountered. But I know now you preserved his body and sheltered his soul. I can never repay you.”

The King bent his head, acknowledging Samir’s words. “There will come a time when your physical life will end. Your soul will stay joined with Brynnan’s and be most welcome in our Kingdom. Brynnan is my son and heir, and if you accept it, must still ride with me on occasion on the Hunt in this life.”

“I accept it, King Arawn,” said the Warlord fearlessly. “I also understand that you, on occasion, take my lover’s body and renew his spirit. Will you join me now, or does that disturb some balance?”

The King smiled. “Yes, I will join you. Let us reinforce the aspects of life and death in my son’s being. He is of both worlds. However, you and I must not engage each other at this time, but I will gladly share with you.”

So it was that the strangest of encounters took place. Brynnan served both the King and the Warlord, taking their cocks alternately in his mouth. Samir mounted Brynnan first. As Arawn remarked, “It would not do for you to fuck my son with my semen inside him.”

Samir pushed his cock into Brynnan’s ass and thrust into him soundly while Arawn stood over the Bard, allowing him to suck his cock. When Samir came, spilling his load, he stepped back, and Arawn took his place. Brynnan surrendered to them both and felt the profoundness of their love in body and soul. Samir kissed him deeply as the King pounded his cock inside his son’s ass, and the Bard came, his cock erupting in a fountain of cum, scattering its pearls over his body.

After he had finished, Lord Samir opened a wooden chest in the room. He took out a golden circular object. Holding it in his hands, he said, ”Brynnan. I have your torc. It did not seem like the right time to return it to you while you wore the torc of the Dread King.”

“My Father, let me return your own torc to you.” Brynnan touched the heavy gold collar around his neck, with its end-pieces wrought in the shape of two snarling hounds.

“No, my son,” replied Arawn. “I will take yours and share in its powers, as you do with mine. You still may use it to summon my presence or return your Shadow-spirit form to its bodily home.”

Brynnan took the torc from Lord Samir’s hands and passed it to his father, and the King effortlessly opened it, placing it around his own neck. Its ends were designed as two raven heads.

“Thank you, Lord Samir,” Arawn said.

As they sat on the terrace afterwards, Brynnan began to feel an unaccustomed tingling in his mind. It was from Geraint, calling him. He looked up in surprise.

Arawn spoke, “I hear the call. You must go to him. I will take leave of you for now: this meeting with Geraint will be no place for such as I.”

“My Father?” said Brynnan, puzzled.

Arawn smiled. “You will see. Now go.”

The cold wind swirled about them again as the King stood up and simply faded.

“I feel an urgency; let us go now,” Samir said.

Acting on instinct, Brynnan caught up Mavrenn, his harp and followed his Lord.

The call led them down to the Redoubt level where stables for select horses were kept, including Nijal’s Myst, Rhiannon, Samir’s warhorse, Malpaisan, and Geraint’s horse, Shade. As they arrived at Shade’s stall, they encountered Nijal, carrying his surgeon’s kit.

Shade was standing in some distress, sides heaving, head down. Geraint stood beside her.

“She is foaling right now,” he said. “She called me, and I heard her mind.”

Nijal immediately went over. He rubbed a disinfecting lotion on his arms and hands and reached into the mare. “The labour is advanced, and the foal comes fast.”

Shade stretched her neck up and curled her lip. Her waters broke, and she lay down. She attempted to roll, and Nijal placed his hand on her neck to calm her.

“She is distressed,” he said.

“Let me try and calm her,” said Brynnan. Kneeling in the straw, he placed Mavrenn against his shoulder and began to play. He had played to the ravens that sometimes gathered around him, and he had played to the creatures of the night in the deep forest, but it was the first time he had played for a horse! He reached for her horse-mind and felt her pain and distress. As the notes sounded, she seemed to calm down and, at last, lay in the straw, breathing more quietly. Time passed. Brynnan started to sing a song in the Shadow-style, that emotionally engaging technique that could affect minds in various ways. This time, he sang for strength and peace, a calming rhythm like waves on a seashore.

Geraint and Nijal continued their ministrations on the mare. Nijal had bandaged her tail to keep it out of the way. Then he sent a mind call to the others present. ‘I see a hoof emerging. The foal is coming,’ 

Shade lay on her side now, grunting and pushing. Both hooves were visible through the embryonic sac, then a nose emerged. Push by push, the foal came out. Samir and Nijal knelt beside her, but they did not need to pull it. Shade was doing a fine job by herself. Then the foal suddenly slipped out in a rush. It moved, tearing the sac. Shade got up on all four legs, expelling the afterbirth and turned immediately to her foal and began cleaning it. The four men were awestruck. They saw a handsome colt with bold blue roan patches, a white blaze and a dark mane and tail. 

“He looks like his sire, said Geraint, referring to the feathery-hooved paint stallion bred by the Wanderers—Col and his family. “He will be big and strong. Look how well-placed his bone structure is.” There was fatherly pride in Geraint’s voice as the foal wobbled to its feet. Shade nuzzled it and whickered softly.

At that moment, all thoughts of Invasion and Settlement disappeared. This was the Now, a reality of hope and promise. It was nearly a year since Brynnan, Geraint, and Nijal had set out on their long journey to ArMor-ys and back, seeking proof and warning others of the Invaders’ approach. So much had happened: so much had changed.

As Nijal and Geraint fussed over mother and foal, Samir put his arm around Brynnan’s shoulders, holding him close. Brynnan shared a warm thought with his friends and lovers and smiled, feeling at peace.

*    *    *

Thus ends the tale of Brynnan: The first book, “To Take Away His Voice,” tells of Brynnan’s emergence from captivity and sexual slavery to the Warlord Samir. The second book, “To Discover His Truth,” tells of the discovery of approaching Invaders from the stars and the companions’ long journey to find information and warn others of what is to come. The Third book, “To Redeem His People,” tells of Brynnan’s encounters with the Invaders, his relations with his Father, Arawn, King of the Dead, and how the people are saved.

Thank you for participating in Brynnan’s adventures. I hope you have enjoyed them.

Voron Forest 2022