The Woods Boy

The Woods Boy - Part 5

"I held my breath and listened to the steps approach. I reached for my knife, though little good I thought it could do me. When I judged the creature must surely be upon us the heavy footsteps stopped. I quietly climbed from the blankets and looked about. There, just beyond the circle of firelight, seeming to float in the darkness, were two red eyes. I was about to step torwards them when I heard a voice in my head, dry and rasping.

"I have watched you for a long time, man of the woods." The eyes glared. My breath made red orange clouds in the firelight, though all the camp was still and even the flames of the fire seemed frozen.

"Who are you?" My voice trembled and I cursed its honesty.

"A friend. More I cannot say. Not yet." There was regret in the voice then, a well of sadness I dared not look into. "The boy is becoming himself again, man of the woods. He will remember more quickly now."

"What do you mean?" My fear rose, not for myself but for Brook. "Is he safe?"

"He is tethered to you. You must be his anchor." At that moment a silvery line appeared to stretch from my heart to Brook's, shining weightless in the gloom. "I know you have felt it."

I had. From the moment I'd found him, and before.

"The road ahead is full of danger, both fierce and subtle. Keep your eyes and ears as sharp as you knife, man of the woods."

"What dangers? What can you tell me?" The darkness sniggered.

"This is not my journey to make. Danger there will be, and help too. I will be watching." The red eyes glowed brighter and suddenly there was that same, piercing gaze, straight into my soul, that I had felt the first time I'd met this creature, this person. My vision darkened and I felt myself fall. Fragments of dream or memory flashed before my eyes. I saw the beast crouched above Brook, I saw the great stone chamber with its fire burning, and I saw the tall figure of a man standing above me, blue light tracing across his skin. I fell and saw a cave mouth fringed with teeth of ice and a bridge that led into shadow that swallowed me.

I woke in a cold sweat. The dawn was a lilac bruise when my eyes cracked open to see the camp begin to stir. I was under the blankets with Brook still dozing warm at my side. Bess had risen and was stretching the night out of her old bones, and the hermit was stoking up the fire's last embers and applying new kindling. I looked to the place where I had seen those burning eyes in the night and rose, rushing to the spot. I searched about but found no trace of foot prints, no broken twigs, and the thick carpet of needles lay about untouched. I returned to Brook who had been watching me closely.

"Did you dream of anything last night?" I crouched to him and took his hand. He looked confused for a moment.

"No I..." Then he seemed to remember something. "Were you talking to somebody?"

I told him what had happened, or what I perhaps had dreamt. He listened intently as I described the voice and what it said.

"Becoming myself again. What does that mean?" He looked at his hands as if seeing them for the first time.

"I don't know, Brook." I leant in and hugged him tight. "But you're safe with me. You know that."

"I know, Jack." He kissed me and any fear we shared from the visit in the night was brushed aside for a time. Whatever lay ahead we would face it as one.

We ate a modest breakfast and broke camp. The sky was clear and the morning sun threw beams through the trees to cross our way. As ever Bess and Brook went ahead, exploring the path together. I had come to the conclusion that she wasn't my dog any longer, that she had fallen for him just as much as I had.

The forest was not deep and we soon emerged onto open moorland. It stretched ahead for unbroken miles towards a hazy horizon, a sea of blue green grass spattered with patches of blood red thistle bloom, empty but for the bones of few abandoned crofters' homes. Asprey walked at my side and I turned to him.

"Last time I was here there were goats and ponies grazing all across. What's happened?" I didn't expect an answer and didn't get one.

"I wish I knew." His voice was melancholy. "It was for this that I had originally planned a visit to the north." I remembered what he had said when Brook and I had first arrived at his house, that he wanted me to take him north.

"What do you hope to find?" He slowed his walking as he thought.

"I don't know. I thought at first it was some kind of plague, but there are no carcasses. The animals are simply leaving." We walked in silence for a while.

"I think it's connected to Brook." I said and Asprey frowned.

"The thought had crossed my mind as well." He sounded grim. I looked ahead to where Brook and Bess were playing, each pulling at one end of a branch Bess had picked up in the woods. I did not believe that he could be the cause of this change in the country, but something inside told me that he was connected to it somehow.

The rest of the morning was a dreary slog across the barren moor. We longed for signs of life, but all we saw were a few lonely crows watching us from the grass. We did not stop to eat that day, and instead chewed dried meat as we walked, all of us keen to get this place behind us before dark. Our luck was against us, though, and miles more could be seen ahead as the sun made its downward climb and we stopped for the night.

We set out camp in the lee of a rocky outcrop that backed onto a small coppice of bare trees just off the road. We found signs of a recent fire there, perhaps a few days old and made our own in the same spot. It was not a surprise to me that others had used this place to shelter; there was precious little cover to be found on the exposed moor and even less dry wood. We made the lonely place as comfortable as could be before sitting to our evening meal. Afterwards Asprey lit a small oil lamp and studied his papers by its light while Brook and I pulled our blankets over us and, backs to the rock face, we looked into the fire. A cold wind curled around us and Brook shivered against me.

"How much further is it to Irok?" He asked and I pulled him closer and rubbed his shoulder to warm him.

"If we make good time we could be there by nightfall tomorrow." That was optimistic. I had travelled this road before, escorting the merchants' wagons, and I reckoned we were still at least a day's march from the village.

"I hope so." Brook huddled around me. "I don't like this place." I shared his concerns. The land's bleak face and the rumour of robbers and wolves on the road filled me with unease, and the memory of the dark visitor in the night returned to my mind. 'Danger there will be, and help too.'

That night we decided to set a watch. Asprey took the first, wishing to continue work on his translations, and Brook and I retired to a fitful few hours of sleep.

In our dream we returned to the great stone chamber, and this time it was crowded with people. They formed a circle around us, with every face looking towards us with sombre reverence. To our left stood the old man, his thin fingers gripping our hand in comfort. To the right was a tall, grey man, and we looked up into an expression that was stern and loving. Ahead, at the front of the crowd, stood the man we feared, his dark eyes fixed on us, pulling at our attention. The old man spoke but his words were lost, so strong was the pull, and the world shrank until the man's eyes filled it. They called to us, commanded us, and our will slowly crumbled like a sea stack in a storm. "Come to me." They said. The vision swam and the man was now sat upon a high seat and we looked up into those dark, penetrating eyes. "Come to me." They called again. "Your place is here."

We tried to pull away from him but were pinned, and to struggle was painful. We were smothered under the weight of his will, and it grew stronger as our own collapsed. Our knees weakened and like a felled tree we began to topple, the ground coming both too fast and painfully slow. Before our knees hit the floor we were jolted awake.

Asprey flinched away as I instinctively lashed out with my fist. My brow was soaked with sweat and the cool wind was a balm as I came back to myself.

"I'm sorry." I told him as he relaxed from his fright. "I was having a bad dream."

"I noticed." He said. "Brook too it seems." He nodded to my side where Brook sat awake, his hair clinging to his forehead and a dazed look in his eyes. I brushed the hair to the side.

"Are you okay?" I kissed his brow. "You saw it too?" He nodded and frowned.

"Yes." He closed his eyes and I could tell that he was replaying the dream in his mind, reliving the helplessness we had felt.

"Did you recognise anything? Anyone?" We both recalled the faces we had seen; the old man, the tall man and the dark eyed man. Brook was quiet for a moment.

"I recognised them. I knew their faces, and not just from the visions I have had, but from before." I had known as much, the sense of familiarity with that place and those people. "At the same time, I don't know who they are."

"Let's forget about it for now." I kissed him again. "Try to get some rest. I'll watch until morning." Brook yawned and shook his head.

"I don't think I could sleep. I'll wait up with you." I smiled as he added some more wood to the fire and we pulled the blanket back around us.

To pass the time we talked in low voices, Brook asking me about my life and I realised he knew almost as little of my past as I did of his.

"I had about twenty years on me when I left the farm." I thought back to the day I'd waved farewell to Pa at the turn in the track from the house, my worldy goods on my back. I remembered his parting gift, the knife I still used, and his parting words. 'Be a good man, Jack. Be kind and fair and your path will always be clear.' Tears had twinkled at the corners of his eyes and I had vowed that I would.

"I spent a while in the Capital, working as a guard for one of the merchant houses there." After a week I had hated the place. I lived out of a small room I shared with two other guards in a bed house near the docks. After the solitude and open spaces of the farm the city was unbearably cramped. To walk through the crowded streets was a daily trial for me, with always some new ugliness to witness. The one grace of that time is that I learned that, when it came to intimacy, I preferred to share mine with other men, something that was common among those that drifted into the kind of work I found myself doing.

It was through one such man, a young southerner called Haleb who I spent many tender nights with, that I began escorting the caravans north. He and I journeyed together for a few years and we became close. "He took an arrow during a bandit attack. I barely escaped with my skin. After that I took the sum I'd saved and settled to build the cabin."

It had been a plan of ours, Haleb and me, to one day make a place together somewhere. In the end I'd made that life alone. "Until I met you." Brook kissed my shoulder.

"Do you miss him?"

"Sometimes." I said after a while. "He was a good friend." I looked up into the night sky, at its star filled hugeness, and the lonely moon a slither. Brook kissed my neck, soft as a moth wing, and again, taking slow steps towards my ear. My breath quickened.

"I need you." It was as if he had been holding on to himself and all at once lost his grip, and his desire washed over me. His need became mine and I turned and pressed my lips against his, parting them with my tongue. He accepted me and let me take him in my arms, lifting him so that he sat across my lap, knees either side of me and his round ass pressing into my growing hardness. He sucked at my tongue, grinding himself against me, and I knew his hunger. Ignorant now of the cold he pulled his shirt off, revealing his taut, youthful body. I pulled from the kiss leant to his chest, my mouth sucking at biting at his nipple as he trembled. "Jack, please."

I was full hard by then, straining as Brook's ass moved back and forth across me. I reached to the back of his waistband and pulled, exposing his behind to the night air. With the other hand I worked at my own pants and soon my dick was trobbing before Brook's wide eyes. Then he looked back to me and our eyes locked with each other and we exchanged the heat we were making, wordlessly speaking our need. He slowly lowered himself, never looking away from my eyes, until his face was inches from my aching dick.

The ache became a surge of pleasure when he kissed the slick head, coating it until it glistened. His tongue slipped out to tease me, knowing every move to make, reading my body until I was squirming. Not wanting him to get it all his way I leant forward and reached my hand behind him, finding the soft skin of his ass. With thick fingers I groped and kneaded the tender flesh as his mouth took me deeper into softness and warmth. I pushed a finger at his hole and he groaned around me.

"I know what you need." He groaned again, more urgent now. I withdrew my finger and lifted his head from my dick, looking him in the eyes again before kissing him deep. I lifted his ass back to where it had been and my slick cock ran the parting. He slid along it until the head pressed at his asshole and, reaching down to take it in his hand, he slowly eased himself on. With our lips still locked together he took me and it was like coming home. We could have been safe in front of the fire in my cabin as out there on that wretched moor.

"Jack, Jack, Jack." His voice was a burning whisper, his head lolling to the side as, eyes shut tight, he took me full, resting at last on the top of my thighs. I buried my face in his neck and we began to rock back and forth as he slowly fucked himself on me, guiding me to where it felt best. He was alive in my arms, tense and striving, feeding on both his own pleasure and mine, shivering as my cock stirred and jolted inside of him, pulling me deeper with each inward thrust. I followed him into his place of bliss and we got lost there in pastel light, blind to the world.

In a flash of bright steel, the world changed and the night returned. A knife was at my throat and a low, dark voice was in my ear.

"Sorry to interrupt the fun, lads, but you'll be coming with us." My blood froze. Before I could react a hooded figure had emerged from that shadows and had taken hold of Brook, hauling him to his feet and twisting his arm painfully behind his back. I made to move towards him but the blade at my throat proved its sharpness with a shallow cut. Blood tickled my nape. I looked about and saw that Asprey had also been taken, lying prostate while another man stood with a boot on his back, binding his hands behind him. Only Bess remained free, and she now stood at bay, growling and baring her teeth as two more me tried to restrain her. "Call off the fucking dog." The voice hissed in my ear and I felt his spittle on my cheek.

"Bess." I called out. Her ears twitched but she did not abate. "Bess. Here." I said more loudly and, with clear reluctance, she trotted over to me and sat growling near my feet, where one of the men took the opportunity to tie a rope around her neck. My arms were pulled roughly behind me and were tied with cord and I watched as the same was done to the Brook. I estimated that there were at least six men, with perhaps more that had not yet stepped into the light. With all of them hooded it was difficult to keep track.

"What do want from us? We haven't much of value but take what you want." One of the men stepped in front of me. He appraised me for a moment before throwing a punch hard into my guts. I doubled over, gasping for breath.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut. You think we need your permission to take what we want?" I would have leapt at him, restrained or not, had I not glanced past him to see Brook's eyes, frightened, helpless, pleading as a hooded man leered over him and with clenched fists I held my temper.

Our gear was gathered up and we were marched at blade point into the dark, heading further from the road. I could not risk trying to talk to the others so I spent the time trying to learn what I could about these men, while keeping track of our route as best I could.

As I'd guessed there were six of them, all dressed in the hooded brown cloaks common among outlaws. I'd had run ins with such men before, both on the road and in the taverns, and once or twice in the bedroom, and knew them to be men that might be bargained with. That we were still alive gave me a little hope.

Crossing the open moorland was not easy in the dark, and without our arms to balance us, so the going was slow and it was nearly dawn when the shape of a large farmhouse appeared ahead, a light in the lower window, a thin trail of smoke rising, barely seen against the sky. We were led to an empty stable next to the house and pushed inside before being forced to the floor, our hands tied to solid iron rings set into the ground. Brook was the first to speak once we were left alone.

"Jack, what's happening? Who are these men? What do they want from us?" These were my questions too, so I gave him my best guesses.

"They're outlaws. They must have seen our fire and come to take a look." I shuddered at the memory of how the men had found Brook and me, and of the way they had looked at and manhandled Brook. My temper rose again. I pulled at my bonds but all I did was hurt my wrists. "I don't know what they want with us. I don't know why they didn't just kill us."

My thoughts darkened. I knew of a couple of reasons, and neither of them were good. It was not unheard of for bandits to take prisoners to sell on as slaves further south, to work in the mines or the candour houses, or dragooned to fight in one of the King's wars. That was the better of the two possibilities. The other was that these men had heard of the search for Brook and we'd been taken as a bounty. At least with the first we might stand a chance of bargaining our way out.

After a while the door rattled open and in stepped a large man of middle years. His barrel chest filled his leather tunic and aboht his shoulders hung the same hooded cloak as the others. He threw back his hood and I saw a face ribboned with scars, his neat, steel grey beard matching his lank hair. He was flanked by two other, another cloaked man and a third dressed in furs of the style favoured by the men of the far north. I sat silently as he looked each of us over, inspecting us. His eyes rested longest on Brook. I could feel my body grow tense with every moment.

"Get him up." The two other men jumped to action, one crouching to detach Brook's hands from the floor before the other pulled him up by his armpits, standing him on unsteady feet. His eyes were on me, wide with fear that rose in waves. My heart beat with his as the man took a knife and placed it at the neck of his shirt.

"No!" My shout echoed around the room and all faces turned to me. The man was smiling.

"Ah, yes. I heard how they found you." He chuckled as I pulled uselessly at my bonds again, my anger burning hot in my guts. I'd killed men before but I'd never wanted to do it, not as much as I did at that moment. The man ran the knife through the shirt, slicing it easily down the middle. The fabric parted to reveal Brook's bare skin. His fingers slipped inside and stroked his chest as the shirt fell past his shoulders. "Very nice. I need a new bed boy."

I was willing Brook to act, to do to this man what he had done to the priest, but something told me that it didn't work like that. Before, on the beach, he had been acting to protect me. I knew somehow that it was not a power he could wield for his own sake.

The man stepped back and motioned to his men to tie Brook back to the iron ring. He turned and stepped towards the door.