The Invisible Chains - Part 2: Bonds of Fear (64 page)

wasn’t coming. Eymar had averted his eyes and was looking sideways

in the woods, as if he had seen something interesting there.

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Jerruth was almost tempted to cry out that he wasn’t the prince.

That he was just a decoy. A poor, innocent guy they had forced to

impersonate the real Anaxantis. But as terrified as he was of what

he knew was inevitably coming, he couldn’t betray the Tribe. He

couldn’t betray her.

So, he remained silent while the baron pushed him roughly on

his back, yanked off his boots and forced him to stand up again by

pulling him up by his hairs.

“And now, drop your pants.”

The baron saw Jerruth’s desperate looks at Eymar who still was

desperately fixating a far away tree.

“You,” the baron shouted at the Tribesman. “You, I want you to

look this way. Look at him. Look at the little fucker.”

Eymar barely moved.

“Look at him now, or I’ll slit his throat, you moron.”

With a pained expression the Tribesman looked around. Jerruth

wasn’t moving fast enough to the baron’s taste. So again he threw

the boy on the ground and pulled off his pants. When Jerruth was

standing up he cut the ribbon that was holding up his underpants.

They fell down to his ankle. The boy turned crimson and involuntary

hid his private parts behind his hands. Damydas forced his arms on

his back.

“See,” he shouted at Eymar, “see, this is your prince, this is his

highness, just the same as any common whore you can buy for a few

sarths in any town all over Ximerion.”

With his strong left hand he grabbed Jerruth’s neck and forced

him to bend over. Jerruth gasped from a mixture of pain and shame.

He cried out when he felt the baron’s thumb roughly forcing his

entrance.

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“See,” the baron shouted again at Eymar, “even a Tanahkos whelp

has a hole.”

He dragged the naked boy to within inches of the tied up

Tribesman, and, still bended over, forced him to turn around.

“Take a good look, man, they shit and fuck. Just like you. Just like

everybody else.”

He turned the boy around again and forced him upright. Jerruth

was crying, totally devastated and humiliated. Eymar again averted

his eyes. This only infuriated the baron more.

“Look at him, I said, look at him, you vermin, or by all the Gods,

I’ll cut off his cock and make you suck it.”

By now tears were rolling of Eymar’s cheeks as well.

The baron lowered his pants just enough to free his already

erect member, and with one brutal thrust he inserted himself in the

boy. Jerruth let out a howl of pain. The baron started moving slowly,

rhythmically, still maintaining his iron grip on the boy’s neck.

“Cry all you want. I bet you’ll start liking it soon enough. This is

what you were born for. This is what the Gods gave you an ass for.

Not to sit upon a throne with, but to offer it to any man who wants

it. Or did you think all those fine titles made you special? None of

you Tanahkoses are fit to clean my boots, little cocksucker. Not your

stupid father, nor your brothers and least of all you. You’re barely a

decent fuck. Well, you were sly enough to let your advisors collect an

army for you. I’ll give you that. Guess what? It’ll come in very handy

when I march on Ormidon to claim the Devil’s Crown. The Tanahkos

dynasty will be a short lived, soon forgotten mistake of history.”

Damydas began panting, still moving rhythmically, holding on

Jerruth’s neck with his left hand and lifting his head for Eymar to

look at by pulling his hair with his right hand.

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In this position they couldn’t escape each other’s eyes, although

one didn’t want to be seen, and the other didn’t want to see. By now

Eymar made no effort anymore to retain his tears.

Jerruth, though overwhelmed with embarrassment and pain,

had heard the baron’s wild boast.

“You’ll never succeed,” he groaned, hoping to provoke the baron

into further indiscretions.

Damydas laughed raucously.

“Who’s going to stop me? Certainly not you, butt-boy. The

Mukthars, maybe? Sorry, but I have to disappoint you there. You

see, we have an understanding. The commander of their army,

a prince with more than a fair chance to become their king, is a

personal friend of mine. They’re even prepared to help me conquer

Ximerion’s throne. What? Do you think, like your simple sire, that I

told everything when I returned out of captivity?”

“You’re bluffing,” Jerruth croaked, pain bleeding through in his

voice. “The king will not fall for your pathetic lies. He will see through

your devious plots.”

“You think so?” the baron laughed. “Poor, poor, deluded boy. I’ve

fooled him for years. I have scared him to death with mere ghosts.

That’s why he sent me here. Twice. As it turned out, scaring a king

was a very profitable undertaking. I promised the Mukthars they

could rape the Northern Marches to their heart’s delight. Much like

I am raping you. Let them do the heavy lifting, and let me collect a

nice part of the pillage. I think I’ll keep the practice going after I’ve

mounted the throne. Even a king needs an emergency fund.”

Still laughing, the baron thrust in and out three times in quick

succession, with as much force as he could possibly exert.

“Ah,” he groaned satisfied, “I could swear I was the first to enter

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your hole, boy. But that can’t be true, can it? Bluffing, am I? Big words,

little whore. See, that’s why you had to be stopped, or rather your

generals. I couldn’t let you botch up my nice, profitable little scheme.

It was always like that, and it will always be thus. The strong take

what they like. Taking your ass was merely a small example of that

maxim. But maybe it will console you that I’ll be very careful with

your army. I’ll keep it far away from the barbarians, believe me. After

all, I need it to conquer a kingdom.”

Another two thrusts and with a deep, satisfied grumble the baron

came in Jerruth.

“I’m not selfish,” the baron sneered. “Now it’s your turn.”

From behind, he groped for Jerruth’s member and, having found

it, started fondling it until nature took its course and he could

masturbate the boy with his full hand, his dick still inside boy.

“No, please, don’t,” Jerruth begged, unable this time to remain

silent.

“Quiet, little slut. I want to feel your hole contract around my

cock when you spurt all over him.”

Jerruth looked imploringly at Eymar, who pressed himself against

the tree where they had put him as if he wanted to dissolve in it, his

tears streaming freely.

Even when the boy came, with horror plain on his face, the

Tribesman didn’t dare look away. He tried to convey his compassion,

his embarrassment, through his eyes.

The baron withdrew savagely, letting go of the boy, who fell on

the ground, sobbing helplessly, inconsolably, utterly humiliated and

in excruciating pain.

“How quickly royalty fades,” he said, contempt in his voice.

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A moment later a Black Shield appeared.

“Captain, sorry for the intrusion, but you’re wanted for further

orders,” he said.

“Tie the little whore up.”

When he had finished tying the naked boy by his feet, the soldier

turned him roughly on his belly and secured his hand behind his

back.

“Lay him on his back in that man’s lap. Let the poor fellow enjoy

the view of his prince for a while.”

“Should I stay with them?” the Black Shield asked, after having

executed the order.

“Nah, they can’t escape. Let’s go.”

As soon has Damydas was gone, Jerruth crawled out of Eymar’s

lap and sat against the tree, pulling his legs up for cover. Eymar had

turned his head away from the moment the baron was gone.

They remained silent for several minutes. Eymar scraped his

throat.

“I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want...”

Not knowing what to say further, he shut up.

“It’s not your fault, Eymar,” Jerruth said after a long pause.

“I wish there had been something... I... I... You were very brave.”

Jerruth didn’t answer immediately.

“You heard the baron?”

“Yes. You tricked him into saying more than he wanted to. That

was so... and while he was... I’m so sorry...”

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509

Jerruth heard a dry sob.

“Turn your back to me, Eymar. I’m good with knots. You must

warn the queen. She must know of Damydas’s treason. She must

hear all of it. She will stop him.”

Eymar shuffled himself in a position so his bound wrists were

accessible to Jerruth, whose hands were also fastened tightly on

his back. Almost immediately he felt probing fingers on his arms,

seeking their way to his wrists.

“Hurry,” he said. “Once I’m free, I’ll untie you.”

“First you’ll untie your own legs. Should the baron return, you

make your escape as quick as possible and forget about me. We’re the

only people in the Tribe who know. The message is more important

than I am.”

The Tribesman remained silent.

“Eymar, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Will you do as I say?”

“Yes... yes, my prince.”

It took a long time, but finally Eymar felt the ropes around his

wrists were loosening. It took several minutes more before they

were loose enough for him to free his hands. Immediately he leaned

over and started to work on the ropes around his ankles.

Damydas reappeared just when he had untangled the knot and

was about to get the ropes off his legs. He sat upright again and

placed his hands behind his back.

“So, my boy, what game shall we play now,” the baron smirked,

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rubbing his hands.

He grabbed Jerruth by his hair and pulled him on his knees.

“Since I have already enjoyed your hole, as will my men in a

short while, maybe I should try your mouth. A word of warning, little

whore, don’t let me feel your teeth or I’ll knock them out one by one.”

Jerruth shuddered with fear and revulsion, but he noticed the

Baron had turned his back on Eymar. He managed to look at the

Tribesman and silently mouth ‘now’, without Damydas noticing.

Eymar freed his ankles from the loose ropes with a nervous swiftness.

By the time Damydas had turned around, he had already covered half

the distance that separated him from the little wood. He reckoned

the trees would give him enough cover for the rest of his flight.

Damydas howled furiously, drew his dagger and just when

Eymar thought he had made it, he felt a sharp, searing pain in his

back. He stumbled forwards between the first trees and fell down.

The underbrush covered him, except his boots which still stuck out.

He clawed with one hand at his back, but the dagger was not only

firmly stuck there, but also just out of reach.

The baron watched and saw the boots twitch for a while and then

become motionless.

“Ah, what a pity. I like a bit of an audience when I’m face-fucking

royalty. Well, actually in a few months it will be me who will be

royalty, and your House will no longer exist. Maybe it’s even lucky

that you’re the first to go. It will spare you a lot of pain.”

Jerruth looked, eyes filled with hatred, at the baron.

“Before we’re going to play, you will first tell me how you

eliminated your brother.”

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Jerruth didn’t understand the question. Not that it mattered.

Defiled and humiliated as he was, staring death in the face, the only

hope of getting his valuable message to the queen lying dead in the

bushes, he felt he had not much to lose.

“Go to Murokthil and may Zardok rip off your dick, you swine,”

he bit.

“Oh, the little puppy shows its teeth,” the baron scoffed.

He backhanded Jerruth four times in the face. Blood started to

run out of his victim’s nose and right mouth corner.

“You’re going to be a nice little bitch-boy, and suck daddy’s dick

like the dirty whore you are, do I make myself clear?”

Jerruth had let his head fall down, but the baron yanked it upright

again by his hair with one hand, while with the other he loosened his

pants. He pulled his member out and dangled it in the boy’s face.

Jerruth had known from the first moment he had laid eyes upon

him that the baron was going to kill him. It was inevitable. But it made

a huge difference when he would die. After being used by Damydas

and when he was done, his men? After a hell of who knows how

many hours? Or in a few minutes, quickly. The baron had a terrible

temper and acted on it. He knew what he had to do.

“Suck, your highness, suck,” Damydas commanded.