The Fifth Beast (ManxMan Chinese/Celtic Fantasy Story)

Chapter 13

The chatty Cumal told some more of his interesting stories, the sleepy Sencha packed his lord's things slowly, dropping this or that time and again (maybe the reason wasn't his lack of sleep at all, but Cumal's lack of shame). So they left when it was already dawn. A silver fog crept up from Lochlann Lake, hiding the muddy road, muffling the clatter of hooves. There was not a single person on the streets.

Niall turned off the southbound road and sent his horse the same way as he had arrived, over the heather-covered hills, towards the forest of Cruithne Corann, which resembled a low dark cloud on the horizon.

The day passed uneventfully. Niall barely noticed, because everywhere he looked, instead of hills he saw muscles rolling under bronzed skin, instead of streams, hair flowing like black water, instead of rain-soaked heather, the barbarian's short pubic hair, damp with semen and sweat. The oblong-shaped stones called forth even lewder thoughts.

Niall didn't feel like eating or sleeping, he felt only an unquenchable fire burning up his loins. He was afraid that when they'd set camp, he wouldn't be able to hold off and would make Sencha give him a hand-job at least. Maybe even take him once. The boy was in no danger of becoming a thrall, while Niall's thoughts were occupied with the gorgeous barbarian.

They rode into the forest before sundown, but Niall urged the horses on with spells until they reached the Shield, the border of Mag Tuired. The forest of Cruithne Corann had been once located entirely behind the Queen's Shield, but had grown greatly since. The Shield was not an obstacle for the creatures of this world, sentient or otherwise, for the tree roots, for the seeds flying with the wind. It was not even visible to anyone except the Elemental Lords, but the animals felt it and did not cross it unnecessarily.

It began to drizzle, the sun was not visible behind the clouds. Although here, inside the Shield, it stood higher than in the North, and did not set for longer.

When the darkness fell, Niall finally stopped for the night. He cast a lightning shield as a cover against the rain and pitched the tent with his own hands, while Sencha gathered firewood. The fire did not flare up well, Niall had to pour sparks in it, and even a small lightning bolt after that. He remembered how Cumal heated wine in their cups, holding them in his palms. Niall wouldn't be able to repeat his trick, a clay cup would crack, and a metal one would probably melt. But if he would stick his finger into the cup and cast a small, well-calculated charge...

He threw the bearskin, Cumal's gift, into the tent and considered for a minute whether it was safe to let Sencha sleep inside. Outside, the boy would get wet and cold, even by the fire. Yeah, he definitely won't get cold in Niall's company. Niall thought he would leave everything to chance. If Sencha decided on something more than sighs and bashful looks from under his eyelashes, so be it, the lord would take him into his bed. After all, it's a great honor to lose one's virginity with the Lord of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

He grinned, remembering the young barbarian. And wondered what he was like at Sencha's age. Was he already tall and strong? Or thin and slender? Was he a virgin at sixteen, like Sencha, or had he the chance to pull up some skirts already, and maybe even pull down some pants? Niall was not his first lover. But he was definitely his first man.

Just like Roigh Mac Rowan was for Niall. The latter wouldn't admit even under torture that he wasn't entirely innocent when he got into Roigh's bed. The Lord of the Tuatha Dé Danann, who was under a hundred years of age, was required to be strictly celibate. But what he and Cumal were doing, sneaking into each other's bedroom or finding a secluded spot during a horseback ride, seemed like child's play. Only kisses, sometimes hands sneaking inside the clothes. They didn't even know they could do it with their mouths. The first person Niall went down on was Roigh. He was the first person to take Niall, and Niall gave himself freely, mad with passion, with the hunger of the flesh, which he had not known before.

He still remembered how ashamed he was the next morning, how horrified, while recalling his helpless moans, his shamefully spread legs, Roigh's fingers in his secret places. He remembered the first moment of pain, the pathetic attempt to escape, the stone-hard embrace of the Lord of Stone, his stone-hard cock. And then the pleasure from which his whole body sparkled, and the dazzling lightning bolt of an orgasm. And how they did it again. And again.

Next morning he couldn't even look at Roigh — blushed and looked away. And Roigh acted as if nothing had happened. Niall then firmly decided that in the evening he would go to his own bed, and alone! He almost hated Roigh: for the fact that Niall could not look him in the eyes, for the fact that Roigh's voice made him weak in the knees, made lightning ran down his spine, ending in his groin. He almost hated Roigh for wanting to kneel before him and beg: "Take me one more time!" Oh, how well Niall understood the feelings of the young barbarian chief when the guy pressed a knife to his throat!

Roigh then simply turned around at the door of his bedroom — so beautiful, so perfect, like a marble statue. Without a word, he held out his hand to Niall, and Niall went to him, as if spellbound, and put his palm into his. And again let Roigh do as he wanted with him.

Cumal shouldn't have worried. The young Kirinch wouldn't have done anything. He would've been mad at Niall for a day, cursing him, seething with anger and shame, and the very next night he would've climbed into the window of Da Derga Mansion again. Niall shouldn't have left. Maybe he should turn back in the morning. Cumal kicked him out, that's right, but Airenn was not his land, he wasn't its lord. There were inns, and there was bound to be some merchant from Ath Luain or even from Sliabh Mis, Niall could find lodging at his home...

And what would the barbarian do after finding out that 'Shidda yarat' had left? Would he chase Niall or would prefer to hide how much he wanted him? Would he feign indifference, and then, left alone, would he grind his teeth and clench his fists? Would he think of Niall, jerking off at night or fucking someone else? Would he forget him in a week, or would he suddenly appear at the gates of Sliabh Mis, say, to buy horses?

Niall ran a hand over his face, trying to shake off his obsession. He couldn't stop thinking about the young barbarian. And wasn't particularly surprised when the latter suddenly came out of the darkness to the fire.

Niall rose to meet him, trying not to smile too predatory. Yeah, he wasn right again, the barbarian did chase him! However, how could he catch up with Niall so quickly? Cumal was sure that if they would give chase, they would do so along the highway to Ath Luain. Kelpies must be faster than horses, they probably cover a much greater distance in a day. Why didn't Cumal, the best kelpie expert in all the blessed kingdom of Mag Tuired, say anything about it? And if a kelpie couldn't get inside the Queen's Shield, it meant the barbarians had made the last leg of the journey on foot.

Following the young chief, the warriors of his retinue emerged from the darkness. All armed. And the chief was also armed; there were two sword-hilts sticking out over his shoulders. The straps holding the two scabbards crisscrossed his bare chest.

The red-haired giant was the last to stand behind him. He held the deadly pale Sencha with one arm across his chest, and with the other hand he clamped the boy's mouth. His palm was so huge that it covered almost half of the boy's face.