The Red King (26 page)

The children shrieked as he roared, declaring
to all of them, “I shall grind your bones to make my bread!”

“One would be nervous, Malik, except for that
great silly grin on your face!” Andrew called.

Malik began the removal of the clinging
children, flipping the one on his back to his front to lower the
boy to the ground, straightening his arms to let those two there to
slide to the ground, and peeling the two on his legs away with some
difficulty. They moved as a group, threatening to attach themselves
once more, but he growled with mock ferocity and they ran away,
laughing and screaming.

“Are you seeking a new crew?” Rory asked,
smiling broadly. He liked this side of Malik; it suited his kind
face.

“Aye, make proper ruffians, they would,”
Malik said. He extended a hand to Rory and they took each other’s
arms like brothers. He wiped his brow. “Although, I think the
sailing of ships is less strenuous.”

Then he turned to Andrew and took him in
another great hug. “Ah, Coinin, you look better. Much better.”

“I am better, Malik,” Andrew said, embracing
him as best he could. “Thank you.”

“What’s this I hear about a fight?” Rory
asked when they separated.

Malik looked away from them. “It is nothing,
Captain, a misspoken word, that is all.”

“I would like to know. It involves my crew.”
Malik’s hesitation made Rory nervous. “If it is truly nothing, it
will be told and we will laugh about it.”

Taking a deep breath, Malik explained. “It
was Malachi and one of the new ones, a man named Burke.”

“I know the man. He seemed very level-headed.
I know Malachi is. What could have possibly set them to blows?”
Rory asked.

“Burke is not…easy with your way, Captain. He
chose to say it while in his cups and was not delicate about the
matter,” Malik said, looking back at Rory, then to Andrew.

Andrew’s mouth made an ‘O’ of understanding,
brows raised.

“That is fine, as you know. Take him to
another port and release him with a bit of silver. This isn’t the
first time we’ve done this,” Rory said, clapping him on the
shoulder.

Malik frowned. “It was the malice with which
he said it, Captain. Such hate for the man who pulled him from fire
and death….and for what? Malachi took him to task and was served a
blackened eye for it.”

“Where is Burke? I would tell him that there
is no trouble and he is able to return to Algiers or Tunis, or
where he would like.”

“He’s gone. He didn’t return to the ship with
the others and no one has seen him today,” Malik said,
uneasily.

“He left on his own then, probably to return
to Algiers. It is not his way, bear him no ill will. Now, enjoy a
day of rest, Malik. Sleep, swim, play with the children. Do not
worry where it is not warranted,” Rory said. “We’ll discuss
business on the morrow.”

“Aye, Captain.” Malik turned to go, smiling
gratefully.

“Wait, what did he say?” Andrew asked. When
the other men looked at him he said, “I’d like to know.”

Malik looked to Rory, who nodded. “He said
the captain was the devil and that you were his concubine.”

Andrew burst out laughing. “That’s all?”

Malik was dumbstruck. “You’re not
offended?”

“Truly. Malik, I expected…worse, I suppose. I
spent my life trying to avoid the devil in all of his forms and now
…” Andrew stopped, still smiling, “Well, I see the humor, if
neither of you do.”

Rory was smiling. “Malik, I beg your pardon,
but this must be done.”

He kissed Andrew soundly on the mouth.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,
Ruaidhri
.
Coinin,” Malik said, chuckling.

“Tell me about Fleming and Etienne.”

Rory looked down at Andrew where his head
rested on Rory’s shoulder. They lay in the soft grass surrounding a
pond, fed by a broken section of the ancient viaduct which drew
melting snow down from the mountain. The sound of the falling water
had lulled them into silence after the shouts and laughter of their
icy bath. When Rory had suggested they warm and dry in the sun,
Andrew had pulled him down and pressed close, shivering against him
until the chill was chased away.

At his pause, Andrew tilted his head up to
meet his gaze. “Unless it is too painful a subject,” he said,
apologetically.

“No,” Rory answered, settling back into the
grass. “But it is not that interesting, I assure you.”

“Mm-hmm…” Andrew sighed, the sound carrying a
note of amusement. “Start with your first meeting of Fleming.”

Rory smiled up at the sky. “I found Fleming
in a King’s ship, in stocks. He’d been put there by his own
captain, to stay for three days.”

“What for?” Andrew interrupted.

“What else? His mouth. He never could resist
a barb or jest, it caused him no end of trouble before and after we
met. On the second day, the ship was been taken by a group of
vrijbuiters
, Maarten’s own men and not the mercenaries that
he uses now. When they found him, they used him for pleasure and
threw him in the bilge, still bound by the stock,” Rory said. He
kept his voice even as he related the tale, but he remembered the
fury and pity he felt when he found the man, nearly unconscious and
naked, waist deep in the foul water.

Andrew shivered beside him.

Rory tightened his arm and pulled Andrew
closer. “It was my first crew as captain and we were brutal with
the freebooters. After taking the ship for ourselves, we released
the remaining Navy crew and brought Fleming up to be released. The
captain had been killed and the mate refused, even though he’d been
in the stocks for three days and the water for almost two of those.
I nearly ran the man through, but he eventually threw the keys
down. I knelt to unlock Charles and his first words to me were,
‘You’re a damn sight prettier than the last one who rode me. Give
us a kiss first and make merry’.” Rory smiled at the memory.

“I see what you mean about his mouth.”

“It never ceased, not while he was awake.”
Rory chuckled, ‘Sometimes, even while sleeping.”

“He talked in his sleep?” Andrew asked,
laughing.

“It is how we came to be lovers. He slept in
the hold as the men do and some of them heard him…ah, call my name
in his dreams.”

Andrew’s forehead wrinkled as his brows shot
upwards. “I had a dream about you in the hold, too. Do you have
some sort of witchcraft placed on the ship?”

“It has my blood and my sweat, my piss and
shit, soaked into the very wood. If there is such a thing, I would
say yes,” Rory said. He lifted his hand and stroked Andrew’s hair.
“There’s a little of your blood and tears, as well. Perhaps I shall
dream of you now.”

Andrew rose to his elbow. “If you think
you’re sailing off without me, you are much mistaken.”

“I would never set you from my side,
Andrew.”

Andrew smiled at that and rested his chin on
his hand. “And Etienne? When did you meet him?”

“Before Charles, we liberated a passel of
youths from a raiding ship. They had no skills, no tongue that I
could understand, so I took them to Algiers. Not to sell, but to
see if any of the scholars or libraries could use them. Most were
taken, two were not. I was walking them back to the ship, trying to
think of something to do with them, when they became very excited
by the questionable art on the outside wall. They ran into the
villa before I could stop them. When I followed them into Etienne’s
great room, he was reclined on his couch, was naked from the waist
down and receiving fellatio from one of the boys I had brought.
He’d apparently thought to prove what skills he had without the
niceties of introduction. Etienne looked at me and asked, “How much
do you want for him? And his brother, there?”

“And did you sell them?” Andrew asked, his
eyes twinkling as he imagined the scene.

“Absolutely not! I told him that if they
wanted to stay I had no claim on them.” Rory closed his own eyes,
remembering. “He held up one hand and made me stand there while he
came in the boy’s mouth. Then he pulled his
thobe
down,
patted him on the head and said he would do nicely.”

Andrew squirmed a little, adjusting his hips
where they pressed to Rory’s. “And that did not arouse you?”

“I had no patience with brothels. I
considered them no better than the galleys. Etienne did not keep
slaves, I was to discover. He wanted artists, true connoisseurs of
the sins of the flesh, not weeping milkmaids and underfed boys. I
only went to Etienne’s for pleasure one time, and that was with
Charles. We were drunk, tired of the ship, and wanted a bed more
accommodating than the tavern. Etienne…took control of the
situation. It was a lengthy period of drink and opium, whores of
all sorts, and Etienne himself joined us. I think he was already
taken with Charles, but, sadly, Charles was already in love with
me,” Rory finished.

“Was that the only time they shared?” Andrew
asked, sadly.

“No, they spent many calls to port together.
After I shunned Charles, told him I could never love him, he stayed
with Etienne for a fortnight,” Rory said. He felt the press of
promises and vows upon him, now broken and burned. “That was when
they hatched this infernal plan.”

Andrew kissed his chest. “I think, perhaps,
that’s enough of stories, for now. I can hear the sadness in your
voice.”

“He was my first and best friend. I miss him
daily.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrew whispered, placing a
gentle hand on the side of Rory’s face. His thumb stroked Rory’s
freshly shaven cheek, tracing the sharp line of his beard. “I would
take it away, if I could.”

Rory trailed his fingers up Andrew’s arm.
“No, I would not have it gone for good. His memory is too
precious.”

“Just for now, then?” Andrew asked,
forefinger moving across his lips.

Rory looked into Andrew’s eyes and curled his
fingers around his wrist. “Perhaps,” he murmured, pulling it to his
mouth. “For a bit.”

Andrew trembled when Rory licked at his pulse
and groaned when he set his teeth there, letting them scrape across
the tender skin. He moved his mouth down, covering the inside of
Andrew’s arm with sharp toothed nips. Before he reached the bend
Andrew had thrown one leg over him and was moving up to kiss him.
Rory stopped him from climbing atop, fully.

“Lie on your belly,” he said into Andrew’s
mouth.

Complying, Andrew tucked his hands under his
cheek and waited.

Rory straddled his thighs, letting his
half-hard cock rest in the cradle made by Andrew’s ass and legs. He
bent low, putting mouth on Andrew’s back and repeating the kisses,
suckles, and almost too hard bites. When Andrew moaned and tried to
arch up Rory pressed down on his shoulders. By the time he reached
the curve leading to Andrew’s ass the man was shaking and gasping,
rubbing against the grass as much as Rory’s weight would allow.

“I will take away the sting,” Rory breathed,
parting Andrew’s cheeks to allow the hot breath into the
crevice.

Andrew was clean, fresh, and tasted wholly of
himself when Rory dipped his tongue into the space between. He
licked from bottom to top, repeated. Only when Andrew was moaning,
holding tufts of grass pulled from the soil did he press his tongue
in, delighting in the surprised cry of pleasure Andrew released. He
withdrew, laughing low and wicked when Andrew made a disappointed
squeak, and said, “Up on your knees.”

When Andrew was ready, on his elbows with his
ass high in the air, Rory spread him again. This time he pushed his
tongue in as far as he could, sliding it out and back in a lazy
rhythm. Andrew pressed his face into the ground, unmindful of the
soil and grass. Rory slipped one hand down, between Andrew’s legs,
and grabbed his cock. He brought Andrew to a shuddering, groaning
completion, catching and turning him onto his back before he
collapsed.

Rory cleaned the remnants of come from
Andrew’s belly, licking his way from groin to chest to face. After
a deep, lengthy kiss, he continued to crawl up Andrew’s body, not
stopping until his knees tucked up under Andrew’s arms. Andrew
parted his lips, eagerly accepting the head of Rory’s cock when it
was offered. With slow and careful thrusts he fucked Andrew’s mouth
until, hungry and impatient, Andrew raised his hands to take
control. It took no more than a few minutes and Rory came, shaking
and moaning as completely as Andrew had.

They settled again in the grass, this time
Rory pressed to Andrew’s side and draped across his chest. While
Andrew sleepily combed fingers through his hair, Rory said, “I
could stay here forever.”

“Aye, as could I,” Andrew replied.

“Could you? Truly, could you stay here in
this far off place, with me?” Rory asked, raising his head to look
at him. “The rest of the world beckons. You could visit the great
cities, the history of civilization spread before you. Or the new
world, places unexplored that bear no marks of this or any other
culture. You would stay with me?”

Andrew sat up. “Where you are, I will be
also. Only death will separate us, Rory. Even if you try to send me
away I will not leave you,” he said, holding Rory’s face and
looking deeply into his eyes. “I love you.”

Rising with him, Rory copied the action, his
fingers sliding into Andrew’s hair to hold him close. “I will never
send you away. Through you I have discovered life, real life, and
everything that comes with it. I love you, Andrew. There is no
power on this Earth that can change that.”

They kissed and kissed again, sealing the
import of their words on each other’s heart.

“It would take more firepower then we have to
attack a fortified hold, even a small one. The
Taibhse
is
fleet as the wind and has her own strengths, but she is no match
for a keep. Her nine-pounders would bounce off like pebbles.”