Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sexual situations.
Most of the mounted escort riders gathered around their leader were watching the small band of infidels, led by Hugh d'Ibelin, as they rode out of the gate of the stronghold of Belvoir and moved to meet the forces of the Saracens and their allies on the hilltop overlooking the small lake below the Horns of Hattin. The Saracen chieftain, Umar ibn al-Hakam, almost the peer of the great Saladin, sat majestically and comfortably astride his white stallionāa stallion of manhood in his own right.
D'Ibelin's small force in the saddle of the Horns of Hattin was the last holdout, save Guy de Lusignan's hold on Jerusalem, of those from the north in the latest of a series of failed crusades. The Belvoir stronghold, sitting high on the heights of the Horns, was proving very costly to dislodge. But D'Ibelin had seen the futility of the crusade, and this parley was to strike an agreement for the infidels to leave in exchange for safe passage to the Mediterranean coast.
The commander of the Seljuk Turk allies to the Saracens, Ahmad bin Malik, could see that Umar's attention was focused on a single riderāand not to infidel's commander, Hugh d'Ibelin, riding in front of his contingent. The Saracen chieftain's gaze was concentrated to near the back of the group of riders, to a young man, riding helmetless, his mane of reddish gold curls ruffling in the wind.
Three of Hugh d'Ibelin's grown sons had been in Belvoir with him. The oldest, his heir, also was named Hugh. The second eldest, a Jesuit priest, who made Ahmad, seeing the infidel church as the source of all their troubles, grip the hilt of his sword hard in bitterness, was named Stephen. The youngest, the one with the reddish-gold mane, astride a white horse, was Edward.
Ahmad wasn't surprised that Umar had his eyes on the young man. The sight of him made Ahmad's blood boil as well. Only Ahmad knew specifically why, although Umar was drawing the attention of those near him, pointing out the young man, and declaring what he would like to do with himāwhat he intended to do with him if and when he could lay his hands on the young man.
"That is one to spit and twirl on my spear as his sire watches helplessly and then to serve the golden-haired head to D'Ibelin on a supper platter," he growled. All around him laughed heartily at the image.
Umar's tastes in dipping his staff were well known in his contingent and were fed by the youngest and blondest of those captured in battle, soldiers or conquered villagers alike, holding off from putting them to the sword in the field in deference to Umar putting them to two swords in his tentāfirst the legendary sword between his legs and then his sword of steel as he lopped off their heads. Both acts were said to make Umar hard and to spout his seed.
The two of them, Umar and Ahmad, had conducted a reconnoiter of Belvoir's defenses as the Saracen forces were first arriving in the area and before D'Ibelin's forces knew they were there. From this very hilltop they had observed a small group of infidel soldiers at the edge of the lake below, bathing themselves. Both had drawn in their breath when they had seen Edward d'Ibelin, naked, rising from and walking out of the lake. His perfectly formed blond body shimmered in the moonlight, and each of the men spying from the hilltop had reached for his staff and completed himself as they watched the young D'Ibelin take his time drying off and redressing.
Ever since, as he was toying with a captive in his tent and in Ahmad's presence, subduing them with his fist in their faces, bellies, and anal passages before putting them on the champion cock, the Saracen had been making comparisons with the body of the young d'Ibelin. He invariably found the captive inferior. Rendering him bruised and broken, Umar then had quickly dispatched the captive, separating his head from his body with one swift stroke of his Saracen blade, after torturing him with a fist to prepare his channel, fucking him, and shredding his passage with the cruel, vigorous, relentless thrusting of his monster cock.
"I would take more time with and pleasure from the beauty we saw rise from the lake below the Horns of Hattin," he would declare to Ahmad when he had turned the sobbing captive over to Ahmad after using his first sword to also find relief in the hardness of his cock before Umar took the metal of his Saracen blade to the bound soldier's neck.
As would I, Ahmad had thought, although he did not have the courage or foolhardiness to reveal that he was as much smitten with the charms of Edward d'Ibelin as Ahmad was.
The deal and logistics complete from the parley and D'Ibelin's men having turned and raced their horses backātemporarilyāto the safety of the stronghold of Belvoir, Umar continued to bore his eyes into the slim back of the youngest son on the white horse.
"I must have him. I wish to hear his futile cries for mercy and to throb inside him, to be the first to stretch and split himāand then to give him the relief all infidels deserve. A thousand gold coins to the man who delivers Edward d'Ibelin, still a virgin of a man's cock in his ass, to me."
The declaration hadn't gone unheard by the Seljuk Turk, Ahmad bin Malik. And Ahmad knew that the Saracen chief was deadly serious. If only I could enjoy his charms before he is wasted, Ahmad thought.
And he thought on the matter and thought and thought.
Three days later, when the forces of Hugh d'Ibelin rode out of Belvoir and down from the Horns of Hattin toward the Syrian seacoast, Ahmad bin Malik was there, with his own contingent of hardened warrior Turks, ready to embark for the Turkish coast himself to his own stronghold in Antalya. He followed the D'Ibelin's all the way to the coast, never taking his eyes off the youngest son, Edward. He saw that Hugh d'Ibelin was being smart when they reached the seaport of Tartus. He split his forces into four parts to take four different ships across the sea to the Lusignan lands on the island of Cyprus. And he placed himself in the lead ship and a son each in the other three ships. Ever mindful of family heritage and knowing that the Mediterranean was not a calm sea in this season, Hugh was ensuring as best he could the safety of his linage. Losing one would not be losing all.
Hugh, of course, embarked on the sturdiest of the ships with the largest portion of his contingent and what was judged to be the most experienced captain. Progressively inferior vessels, soldier contingents, and crews went to the sons in descending orderāfirst the heir, Hugh; then the priest, Stephen; and last, the "plus one" son, Edward.
Marking well which ship Edward had embarked on, Ahmad was delighted with the circumstances. It was far to the Cypriot coast for this day and age and the sail could not be negotiated without a period of darkness. It was a fearsome sail for infidels visiting from the north. It was mere trip to a festival for the seafaring Seljuk Turks, who knew these waters well.