Trickster

by Keelywolfe

 

Behind them, the teeth were still chattering in Angus's severed head.

He waited only until they were out of sight of the shocked crowd, mindful of Buliwyf's warning; that they must give nothing away to the enemy, be it the enemy within their ranks or the enemy without. Once King Hrothgar's people could no longer see the two of them wending their way through the ramshackle village, Ahmed turned and shoved Herger's shoulder hard.

Herger stumbled, more from surprise than the force of Ahmed's push, and tumbled into the side of the moss covered thatch of a storage hut. Herger
put out his hand and barely stopped himself from putting his hand through the thatch, before he turned to Ahmed with that quizzical, mocking expression that seemed to infuriate the Arab.

"Did my back seem to need your attention? Or were you hoping it would be the ground and my knees?"

He knew Ahmed was quick. It was a good thing. If a man cannot be strong, at least he can be smart and quick. Not all men were giants. Herger was quite willing to forgive Ahmed's smallness, because he - like the rest of the company - thought of him as the luck of their quest; the thirteenth warrior who was no Northman.

However, Herger was not prepared for just how quick Ahmed could be when he wanted to, like when he wanted to grab Herger's shoulders and slam him against the thatch, which creaked alarmingly behind his back.

Herger grabbed Ahmed's forearms, more to steady himself and to take the pressure off the building behind him than to put Ahmed off. He rather liked Ahmed touching him.

"Little brother, we are both going to fall through this wall if you keep doing that." Herger grinned down into Ahmed's face and realized the man was furious.

No, not furious. Angry, but cold, like the snow-wind that blows across a campfire. His grin faded a little. "What have I done to anger you so?" Blue eyes flicked back to the path that led to the gathering circle, where he had lost Angus his head. "Did you care what happened to him?"

"You are," Ahmed pronounced, giving Herger a last shove before he tried to pull away "an imbecile!"

Herger chose not to let Ahmed pull away, and held on to his forearms as the man pulled once impatiently, then again, then went still as the futility of trying to escape those large hands became apparent. He could draw a knife, Herger thought privately. But he won't.

Herger cocked his head. "Imbecile?" he smiled, ignoring Ahmed's resumed attempts to get free. "I do not know this word. Does it mean handsome?"

Ahmed's jaw dropped and he ceased struggling, probably out of sheer surprise. "Hand... no! No, it means fool! Moron! Idiot spawed of a mule and a dog!"

Herger's eyebrows went up. "Dog?" He was far more amused than angry. A man who wielded words as well as Herger knew they were often meaningless; a tool to manipulate lesser men. "Perhaps you've forgotten what happened to the last man who called me an animal?"

That checked Ahmed. If not completely, at least enough to make him look slightly guilty. "I do not mean you are an animal. I mean you are as foolish as a dog."

"Now I'm a fool?"

"I already said you were a fool!" Ahmed burst out, recovering his outrage. "Let go!"

Herger chuckled. "I thought you wanted my attention and now I find you only wanted to call me a fool and leave?" Herger clucked his tongue in disappointment, tightening his grip as Ahmed took up his struggles again. "We will fall through this wall yet if you do not hold still."

If Herger had thought Ahmed's anger forgotten, he was quickly proved wrong.

"If I thought it would give you any sense, I would throw you through it! You risked your life only to prove a point!"

Such fire this little Arab had within him, flashing in his dark eyes. The cuts on his face that he fretted over only added to his appeal, showing strength where some might suspect none lay. Herger grinned over his own fanciful thoughts, dropping them quickly when he saw anger rising yet again.

"Our lives would have had worse risk without the point made," he said calmly and perhaps he was a fool, for Ahmed was not soothed by his words. Perhaps he did not wish to be soothed? That was a thought well worth considering.

"There should have been another way."

But his words did not hold the same heat as before. Ahmed's temper cooled before his eyes. A grievous loss, but there was no loss without some gain, because he stood still within Herger's grasp, their bodies close to touching from chest to knee.

"Would you think of one, little brother?" Herger asked. He leaned in to whisper the last against the Arab's ear, amused to feel him draw a sharp breath. "Would you have been as angry to see one of the others fight such a small battle?"

Ah, there, another delightful flare of that temper from one usually so cool, like ripples of lake water from a thrown rock.

"I would be angry at any who risked their lives in such idiocy," he hissed. No longer trying to pull away, instead he leaned in to give Herger the full force of his glare. His hands made the move to the front of Herger's shirt, pushing him back against the wall. Again, it creaked in warning and a scattering of dust showered down on them.

The dust of hay and ash settled in Ahmed's dark hair like flecks of snow and Herger laughed, unable to brush it away because he would have had to release the other man, and that would lose him this battle far too soon.

"Little brother," he chuckled "if we are to end up on the ground together, there are better ways than this."

Ahmed was quick, this he knew, but Herger was as well, and stronger. The hut behind them proved to be one meant for storing supplies and, as expected, it was more empty than not. Surprise had kept the Arab still for a short time, not nearly long enough, though it was not difficult to wrestle him to the ground, using his greater weight to pin the smaller man beneath him.

He fought and spat as a cat might, using words that Herger did not need to guess at to know their meaning. The curved sword was trapped - possibly painfully - to the ground beneath Ahmed's back, and if ever there was a time for him to use a knife, it would be now. While Herger did not expect him to, he was still braced against a sudden sharp pain, thin and possibly fatal.

It did not come.

Instead, Herger was able to capture Ahmed's hands and still them, holding them over his head while he squirmed and swore, neither action very unpleasant. He did nothing more than wait, nearly sighing his appreciation of the lithe body wriggling beneath his own, though he was careful not to smile, not wanting Ahmed to think he was being mocked. A man should know his enemy in a battle, and Herger knew this one would end poorly if Ahmed thought it a poor jest. A game, perhaps, but not a cruel one.

Ahmed was still wriggling and twisting beneath him, and Herger was in no hurry for him to stop, but he thought that enough protest had been made, even for a warrior.

"Are you ready to be still now?" he asked in a gentle voice. Perhaps it was this that made Ahmed suddenly relax and look up at him with a puzzled expression crossing his smoke-colored features. It was not Herger's usual mocking tone, but soft words that sounded odd in his throat. He did not mind using them with this man, though. There was much he did not mind with this man.

Ahmed opened his mouth, but Herger was not about to go into elaborate explanations. He slid his thigh between Ahmed's legs, careful to keep a firm hold on his wrists, and pushed. Ahmed eyes, dark as charcoal from a cold fire, went wide and he made a little sound of surprise, a rapid puff of breath that may have been a gasp, and managed to say his name;

"Herger..."

Joyous, it meant. He would have liked to ask him what Ahmed meant at some time, but they always had other things to discuss. Herger lowered his head several inches, until his lips almost brushed Ahmed's.

"Finally," he murmured. "I was beginning to think you were cursing me because you had forgotten my name."

Ahmed swallowed hard, looked up at Herger, and blinked several times, during which time Herger had a glorious opportunity to notice how dark and long his eyelashes were. He also painted his eyes, a thing which only women did in Herger's lands, and a thing which almost tempted Edgtho to investigate the Arab's blankets at night. Only Buliwyf's dark threats and the admonition that they were a company of brothers on this quest had dissuaded him, but Herger had kept an ear open when he slept beside Ahmed anyway.

"I forget nothing," Ahmed said, in a voice that shook like the timbers of the great hall in a storm. "Get off of me."

"Enough of protests," Herger continued in that softest of voices, the one that sounded like honey in his throat, and he marveled at himself. "You have a plump mouth. Let me taste it."

Ahmed was able to get out "N-" before Herger sealed his mouth over his.

It was not like kissing a man. Of course it was not. Ahmed scraped his beard off daily, so his skin was soft as a woman's breast. He has a whore's mouth, Herger remarked to himself without rancor, for he was quite fond of whores, too. He even moaned a little as Herger pushed his lips open with his tongue and stroked inside him.

Encouraged, Herger loosed one of Ahmed's wrists and slid a hand between them, parting the fabric of his shirt to draw his fingers down that amber
skin to see for himself if it felt like the polished golden glass it resembled. He was not disappointed. He broke the kiss to stare down at Ahmed
in amused amazement.

"You are soft as silk," he rumbled, his throat growing tight as a spike of fire began to work its way down his body and settled between his legs, where he grew thick and hard. He pushed more of Ahmed's shirt away, exposing one dark nipple that he bent his head to flick with his tongue. "Are you like this all over?"

Ahmed seemed to be having trouble speaking. His back arched like a cat as Herger licked at his chest, and the hand that had been freed went to the back of Herger's head, his fingers knotting into the scattered gold of his hair. Herger released him fully so that his could go to work on the knots holding Ahmed's breeches together, and it was then that Ahmed grabbed his wrists. "Wait."

Herger chuckled a little. "Why wait?" He was no longer interested in talking and went back to working the laces from their holes.

Ahmed squirmed, turning his head to peer at the tall grass and dead hay around the path that shielded them from unfriendly sight. "Someone may pass."

Herger shrugged. That was one lace. Five to go. "So they see."

"But..." Ahmed wriggled. "What will... what if..."

"You talk too much." Herger kissed him again and continued to wage war on the laces, which unfortunately left Ahmed's hands free to push at his shoulders and try to slide out from under him, but Herger was not losing this game so easily.

He seized Ahmed's hips and wedged his leg again between those slender thighs, sinking down onto a body as lithe as a dancer. The fight was brief, but he won in the end by pressing his beard into Ahmed's neck and nuzzling there, licking his salty skin and nipping at his collarbone. Ahmed jumped in shock and Herger used to knee to press his thighs further apart, pushing the hard, heavy erection against him.

"Unh, yes," Herger sighed out, licking the curves of his ear, latching onto the velvet lobe and sucking just to hear the sound that came from Ahmed.

"But- " Ahmed began.

"They won't."

"If- " he tried once more, though weakly.

"I will just have to kill them," Herger assured gravely, and then there were fewer words. Ahmed sighed deeply and closed his eyes, and Herger was able to work the final laces from his breeches and slid one hand down into the hollow of his thighs to wrap his fingers around the stretched, silken cock that slid into his palm.

Ahmed shuddered and moaned again, his dark lashes fluttering.

"That's a woman sound," Herger teased.

Ahmed whispered something in his language. Herger smiled against his skin, his fingers sliding up and down the length of the shaft in his hand. "Say that again."

Ahmed was not talking now, but holding on to the front of Herger's shirt, his forehead pressed to Herger's breastbone, and he was making little panting noises under his breath and pushing up with his hips, thrusting into the tight ring of Herger's fingers.

Herger's smile broadened into a grin, and he kissed that plump mouth again, sucking on the lush lower lip, sliding his tongue over it as if it were a fresh slice of fruit. He wanted to pour honey mead into that mouth and taste it in him, lap it from his skin, suck it from the hollow of his throat. Ah, but not here. Not on the ground here, with so many eyes close by. That would have to wait. For now, his hand was busy and he watched Ahmed's face turn from shaken desire to rapt pleasure as he squeezed his eyes shut and bunched his fists into Herger's shirt. Heat filled Herger's hand, warmth flowing down his fingers, dripping over his wrist.

He kissed the short hair at Ahmed's temple, shaking his head at the softness, and waited until the shuddering had stopped and Ahmed just breathed heavily against his chest.

"Are you back, then?" Herger asked, resting his forehead against Ahmed's so that the face beneath him was blurred from the closeness. There was some sound, not quite a word, and he took that to be an agreement.

"Good. Then it's my turn." He sat up on his knees and worked the fastenings on his breeches himself, entirely too impatient to wait for the Arab to puzzle them out.

Ahmed's eyes had gone wide again, dark as the sea at night.

"You didn't think I'd let you walk around with a smile when I can barely walk at all, did you?" Herger huffed indignantly.

"I...I did not..."

He stammers as though the words refuse to leave his tongue, Herger thought fondly, but if his tongue and hands would not move, Herger did not mind helping.

With fingers damp with seed, he pushed Ahmed's hand down the front of his breeches, holding it there until it seemed to figure out its purpose. Herger sighed in appreciation as Ahmed finally wrapped his fingers around him. His hands were softer than any woman's, even a whore, but his grip tightened soon enough. For all its softness, it was the strong hand of a warrior and that was as gloriously exotic as the dusky tint of his skin.

The angle was a poor one and Herger took pity on him, thrusting into the tight clench of his fingers. Ahmed was watching him, his eyes shaded by long lashes, and Herger grinned and leaned in to press another kiss against that tempting mouth, pushing his tongue between Ahmed's lips to taste the slickness within. There were other things he wanted to do to his mouth. He wanted to see it reddened and swollen, wrapped around the base of his cock. He wanted to see the plush tongue dancing against his own playing its games a good deal lower.

Herger settled for the heat of a palm, slicked with his own fluids, and grunted at the pleasure of it. If there was to be time for that later, there would, and if not, who was he to question the gods?

Ahmed was making little sounds low in his throat, and it came to Herger to tease him again for his womanly ways, soft and sweet and probably perfumed, but it was no woman who sank his teeth into Herger's lower lip. He gave a muffled yelp of his own and his cock seemed to surge at the startling pain. Herger's hands found the sides of Ahmed's head, gripping tightly as he pushed into the tight circle of his fingers.

His mouth felt too hot and his lip throbbed as he devoured Ahmed's mouth. The meager taste of blood was spread between their tongues and he couldn't even wonder at whose it was. The heat in his cock was tingling a warning up his spine, quick and sharp, and he hunched his hips desperately, seeking that last stunning blow.

It left him gasping, stifling a cry that would have roused the birds around them for a hundred paces and possibly the milling crowd far too close to them. He spilled his seed into the suddenly gentle hand around him and collapsed heavily, breathing harshly into Ahmed's neck. Through the tangle of his own pale hair he could see Ahmed watching him, his own breathing strained by the weight on top of him. But he made no move to escape, no struggling or wriggling now and Herger was in no hurry to stir himself.

The gentle hand continued to caress him, to draw out little shudders that he felt in his ribs and sparks of pleasure that he felt in the tips of his toes. "Mmm," he murmured in appreciation, pressing a wet kiss to Ahmed's cheek. His lips lingered there, and he again smiled at himself, amused at how easily he had been seduced.

"I did not know Arabs were allowed this," he said between kisses, skirting close to that sweet mouth again.

Ahmed made a thoughtful noise and drew his thumb over the crown of Herger's cock, making him twitch. "I did not know your people allowed it," he evaded.

"Oh, they do not," Herger said. He felt slightly drowsy now, and wished for a horn of mead and a bed of straw to sleep away the pleasure in his bones. "But our Loki finds no evil in it, so how can I?" He yawned hugely.

Ahmed smirked. "I must hear more of this Loki. You must tell me some night."

To his surprise, even though he was glutted from weariness and sex-sotted and fresh from a kill, he felt his shaft begin to thicken again in Ahmed's palm. He gave Ahmed's neck a little lick. "This will not do. We have work."

"Indeed," Ahmed said, but his hand disagreed.

Herger rose up on his elbows and gazed down at him. In the late sun, Ahmed's dark hair had tints of red and the long shadows made his eyes seem almost black. Even his new scars looked rather pretty on him, accenting his beauty rather than taking away from it. He had a passing thought to tell him this, and that made him snort rather rudely into Ahmed's face.

Ahmed withdrew his hand. "Why do you laugh?" He was offended and Herger was instantly sorry, even though he was still laughing. Ahmed shoved at his shoulders and tumbled him halfway on his side, sliding nimbly out from beneath him and rolling to his knees.

Herger continued to laugh. Ahmed grabbed a handful of rotted hay and threw it at him with a spate of Arab language. All Herger could think was how foolish he himself looked, with his breeches unlaced and his penis hanging out, straw in his hair, and contemplating telling a man how beautiful he was. Yes, he was ridiculous.

"Ibn, I didn't mean you- " he got out between chuckles, then bit his tongue, belatedly remembering that the name he had called Ahmed for months on the journey was not truly his own.

"My name is not Ibn!" Ahmed nearly shouted, then vaulted from his knees to his feet and stomped off in the direction of the great hall with a backward glance of fury.

Herger collapsed on his back and gave himself up to giggles. Oh, yes, he would tell his friend of Loki. It was the right thing to do, since He had already made his first appearance.

-finis-

 

Comments and questions to:  mailto:keelywolfe@gmail.com

Back