Gustav part 2

[unsentimentalf]

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Part 2

Gisborne had been right. I did like Gustav. This place was nothing like Pietro's, except in the most obvious way. Gustav had control of the lands for a few miles around, seemed to do a decent enough job of it. I watched a couple of sessions of his justice, found it fair. His men were disciplined, when they weren't drunk. His boy was too young for his bed, but clearly adored him. He was a considerate host.

My bloodprice was organised quickly. I was grateful to Gustav for relinquishing one of his prized possessions, thought I was fairly sure that the price he asked from the guilty men was painfully high. I was asked to choose between his pair of two year old mastiffs; they seemed well matched and extraordinarily well trained to my ignorant eyes. I chose the brindled dog; Demon was enough black for me, and I thought that Gustav slightly favoured the darker beast.

Johannes had been involved in training Brun from a pup; he volunteered to teach me what I needed to know to handle the huge dog. He seemed to feel his responsibilities for my injuries keenly. I didn't; Gisborne had used whatever tool he had found convenient. The men hadn't tried to hurt me; they had been stupid, and they'd paid a price. I was civil to Johannes, grateful for his help with the dog, and eventually he relaxed into a polite friendship. Derk just kept out of my way.

When I was up and about, I suggested that I ought to think about leaving. Gustav would have none of it. Not till the worst of winter was done. A German winter outdoors was no place for a man recovering from injuries. I thought of Gisborne, put out in the snow with nothing, his back still bleeding. Nothing had been heard from him; he could have got clean away, or died, feverish, somewhere in the woods, body frozen stiff under the snow or torn by the wolves I heard most nights. If he was out there, I wasn't ready to meet him yet. I agreed to stay till Spring.

Johannes offered help with exercising the horses. I didn't much like the idea of letting anyone else ride either of them, but I couldn't do it all myself, and I wanted to show that I had forgiven him. He was a good horseman and we went out most days that the rough winter allowed, him on Invictus, me slowly convincing Demon that I was in charge now, Brun loping alongside us. His French had improved but we didn't talk about anything close to my heart, which suited me.

One evening, over supper, I happened to mention Stefan, who was lying on the floor near us teasing one of the hounds. Gustav's boy was several years younger than any of the men in the place, younger than I thought decent for a boy among men like these, even by the somewhat lax standards I'd got used to in Pietro's place. Johannes grimaced, slightly uncomfortable. Gustav had taken the boy into both the household and his bed a couple of years earlier, after his parents were killed by raiders. Some of them were, Johannes said, quietly, looking out for the boy.

I saw that, now I was looking. Stefan was a cheerful lad, inclined to be far too friendly. Gustav was kind enough to him but paid little attention to what the boy did during the day. Half a dozen of the men had taken the lad in hand, taught him their various jobs, kept an eye out for some of the others who sought to take advantage of the tricks that Gustav had taught him. It was, Johannes confided, sometimes a difficult task. The boy had been taught to please men, not to be one. But when Gustav tired of him, Stefan would have friends, would know how to ride and to fight, would be fit to make his own way in the world in some other way than on his back or his knees.

Stefan was the sour note in the friendly and well run household. For a while I thought about taking him with me when I left. But I could see that he would not come willingly; he was happy here, adored Gustav. He was old enough that I wouldn't be able to keep him with me; he would run, seeking home. A boy like that, not born to vice but taught it well, would be in far more danger among strangers than he was here.

I didn't like standing by. I found a bow his size in the armory, started teaching him to shoot. He wasn't a good pupil; he was easily distracted, but we made some progress and he came to like me. A little too much; he tried squirming up into the crook of my arm one evening as I sat after supper, like a much younger child. I snapped at him and Gustav frowned from where he was still sitting at table. “Be kind to Stefan, Robin. You owe him a guest's friendship.” It was the first sharp word I'd heard from him.

A guest's obligations did not extend to letting himself get groped by an oversexed fourteen year old. I'd seen what the boy tried with the other men in public, Johannes and his friends powerless to intervene while Gustav was looking approvingly on. Stefan only did what he had been taught but I itched to beat it out of him. Maybe if I had the rearing of him for a couple of years I could have taught him differently, but it was probably already too late. I stood up, bade Gustav a curt goodnight and walked out of the hall, without looking back at the fair haired boy.

One of Gustav's mares came into season and he asked if Demon could cover her. I was glad to be able to pay something back for my long stay. Johannes and I brought the stallion out to the paddock and stood at a safe distance, watching. Demon was eager for the task, whinnying in enthusiasm, and we heard a reply from Invictus in the stable, sounding almost approving.

“I have not known two stallions so close.” Johannes grinned at me. “A pity that you cannot breed them together- now that would be a horse!”

It certainly would. I smiled, watching Demon rearing. “I think Demon knows a stallion from a mare, and knows which he prefers.”

“Horses always do.” Johannes had turned to watch me, carefully. “It is only men like us who ride stallions for choice.”

I had, in all honesty, not seen this coming. The man must have been fifteen years younger than me, and this was not a drunken pass. I kept my face non committal.

He'd started; now he would say it even without encouragement. “You are a guest here, Robin. You need do nothing. I will not ask you again. But, it would please me greatly if you would lie with me tonight.” He took a breath, nervous.

I liked the man. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I said the first thing that I could think of.

“You should know that Gisborne...hurt me in more ways than with knife and whip.”

He nodded, solemn. “I'd hoped, it was healed by now.”

“The flesh, yes.” I shrugged.

He sighed. “I'm sorry, Robin. But I understand, that you can't.”

'Can't' rankled. “I didn't say that I can't.” Fuck Guy. I would not be haunted by him forever. I looked at Johannes, young and muscular, thought of his hands, firm on the horse. A man who rode well. A spike of lust at that thought, unexpected but welcome. I'd had enough of sleeping alone.

“Only that, if there are deficiencies...” Johannes frowned at the unfamiliar French word. I might as well be blunt.

“If I don't get hard, Johannes, it is not your doing but his. But we can try.”

Johannes was trying to look serious at the thought of my injuries, but his grin of pleasure kept breaking through. I wondered if he'd try to kiss me, right out there, but he had a sense of decorum. All that afternoon and evening he stayed near my side, but never touched me.

My mind was in turmoil, but through it there was a growing desire, the first I'd felt for any man but Guy. When I rose from supper I answered the question in his eyes with the slightest of nods. He could barely get out of the room fast enough. His obvious eagerness fueled my arousal; I was hard by the time we were through my door.

I closed and bolted it, slowly, turned to when Johannes had sat down on the bed. I felt a sudden disconnection. I didn't have sex with men. He stretched out a hand, drew me down onto the bed and I pushed doubt away.

It was good enough. It was pleasure, and warmth, and just enough lust to get over the awkwardness. I found a couple of things that he liked, and he did the same for me. We put some effort into it, were suitably rewarded. I looked down at him as climax unknotted long held tensions in my gut, and realised with relief that I felt nothing more for him than I had before.

If Johannes wanted more from me than this, he didn't tell me so. It was good enough to do it again; he started spending most nights in my room. Both he and the dog snored. We spent most of our days together too, around his duties; he was a pleasant companion. We would take the horses and the dog and do a bit of hunting, fuck on a blanket laid down on the snow with Brun keeping one eye on us and the other on the horses, eat whatever we'd filched from the kitchens and ride home again.

One day it finally occurred to me to ask whether Johannes had a horse of his own to exercise. He looked up at me from where he lay spread out beneath me.

“I sold my horse.”

It took me a moment, then I glanced involuntarily towards Brun.

There had always been dogs around, in places where I'd lived, but I'd somehow never had one to think of as my own. Brun was a delight, fierce, protective, loyal and fond of pretending that he was still a pup. I loved the stallions but they had their pride. Brun was a friend.

So now Johannes was a horseman without a horse. He shrugged. “You deserved the dog, Robin.” He reached out, ran a finger down the new scar and I shivered, the gesture so uncharacteristic of him, so reminiscent of Guy. “You paid a higher price than us.”

Spring came. The whip marks were silver traces on my skin. Sometimes I could get fucked face down on the bed by Johannes and never once remember rape and pain. The affair was, for me, wearing a little flat. We did not really suit each other in bed. Johannes was always considerate, could never be tempted into even the pretence of violence, and if I forgot myself so much as to play a little rough I would find the man bemused and limp. Gentleness was a novelty that delighted me at first, but after a few weeks I found it harder to stay hard for him, found myself sustaining myself with fantasies very far from what his hands and lips were doing to me. It was pleasurable still, but I was getting bored.

I stripped him, carefully, naked in my room, one evening, pushed him gently up against the wall, fucked him slowly and thoroughly, my hand around his cock, my tongue licking at his spine in the way he loved, my thoughts a long way away. When we'd both come, I told him that I was leaving.

He didn't ask to come with me, and I didn't suggest it. We agreed that it had been fun. We chatted for a while about where I'd go, how I'd live. I was planning to head west, back to the Moselle, where everyone spoke French. Nearer England, though I couldn't go there.

“Would you sell Invictus to me?”

He had no money to buy a horse that valuable. I looked at him, realised that he was hoping I'd offer the stallion as a parting gift. What use would I have for two such horses on the road?

I would neither gift nor sell either of them. It cast a small shadow over our parting, though we both pretended otherwise.

Finally, before we slept, he said, “Will you stay one more day, for me? Leave the day after tomorrow?”

I was not fond of protracted goodbyes, but it seemed a small thing. It would take a while to gather the supplies I needed anyway.

I announced my proposed departure at breakfast the next day. Gustav pressed me to stay on, but with no real conviction. I'd found it difficult to hide my feelings about Stefan, and we had spoken very little for some weeks. I saw little of Johannes that day, and to my surprise he was busy talking with the other men in the evening, paid me little mind. He didn't come to my room that night. I was glad enough of the sleep.

It was an early morning start. Stefan cried, to my embarrassment; the boy was fourteen and I was a passing stranger to him. When I kissed Stefan goodbye as if he was the child that he was acting, he thrust his tongue into my mouth. I was tempted again to try to take him away, but he wouldn't stay with me, and I was probably riding into enough trouble without trying to keep control of a boy whore. I looked over his head to Johannes, saw something hard in the man's eyes that surprised me.

Johannes spoke gently enough to Stefan. “Would you like to ride out a little way with Robin?” He looked up at Gustav. “I can ride with him as far as the lodge. The boy is upset- it might cheer him a little.”

I didn't want company, not of Stefan's kind. “He'll get over it fast enough, when I'm out of sight.”

Gustav frowned at me. I was not taking his darling's suffering seriously enough. “We'll all come. As far as the lodge.”

So I had to wait while five more horses were saddled, for them and two more guards. I'd hoped to shake the dirt off the place when I left, but too much of it was coming with me. It was a slow ride, for Stefan's sake. There seemed little point in it to me, though the boy had stopped crying at least. Johannes rode next to me, cheerful and seemingly not noticing my annoyance. I wondered if the ride was because he found our parting difficult. He was not coming with me; of that I was determined.

The lodge was about ten miles out, on the western road. It should be a safe ride- we were well within Gustav's lands. It took us most of the morning to get there. As we approached the small walled building, I saw Johannes' hands twitch on the reins. I knew the man's body, by now, saw the tenseness. Something was up.

“Johannes,” I said, quietly.

He glanced over at me. His voice was a murmur that I could hardly hear. “You have been his guest, Robin. Keep out of this.”

Treachery. I had no allegiances, didn't know what was behind this. My only concern should be the child in our midst. “What about Stefan?”

He checked his horse for a moment. “Take him out of harm's way. You can do that much, with honour.”

We had reached the gate. Johannes dismounted to move the heavy chain, gestured to Gustav, who rode forward. Johannes called across at me. “Now.”

I seized the boy's rein, whistled the loose horse and dog to me, turned left, back towards the main road. One guard had gone through with Gustav- I heard the gate clang shut, heard shouts and one scream. The other guard was coming after me. Stefan was silent, white faced, staring round. I didn't want to kill a man he knew in front of him; couldn't hold the rein and use my bow anyway. With a word I set Brun at the guard's horse, then turned back and sent Demon into a gallop.

The boy was holding on, just. I reached a hand out to steady him as our horses galloped neck to neck. Back to the road, then left, away from Gustav's. After a long while I pulled Demon up to a walk, looked round.

Invictus was still with us. Stefan's horse, chosen for its quietness, was foundering. Brun was coming up the road, apparently uninjured, with no sign of pursuit.

The boy was shaking, still. I dismounted, helped him off his horse. “Don't worry,” I said, gently. “You're quite safe.”

“Why did you do that?” His voice was indignant. “I didn't like that at all. Where's Gustav?”

He was not a child. What answers I had, he could have. “There was going to be fighting. I took you away so that you would not be hurt.”

Brun sniffed at him, and he dropped to his knees to wrap his arms around the dog's head. “Who was fighting?”

“I don't know.”

“Can we go back yet?”

“Yes.” Whatever side had won, it would be over by now. But if Gustav came looking for the boy, I didn't think I'd give him up, for all that I didn't want him with me. I'd find somewhere to take him.

I needed to ride back, find out what had happened. I didn't want to take Stefan with me, but I couldn't abandon him- if anything happened to me, he could die out here. I put him on Invictus; the stallion would obey my voice commands in preference to the clumsy hands on his reins, and my hands were free for the bow. I sent Brun to scout ahead; he'd come straight back if he saw anyone on the road. Stefan's horse trailed us on a long rein; I'd drop it at the first sign of trouble.

We were within a mile of the lodge when Brun came running back. I stopped Invictus, set the dog to guard horse and boy while I set an arrow to my bow and rode forward.

Johannes, alone. I raised a hand in acknowledgement, kept the bow strung. He rode up to me, his horse shying from Demon.

“Where's Stefan?”

“Safe.” I looked at the man who I'd shared my bed with for weeks, wondered what he was really like, what he wanted.

“I'll take him, now.”

“He's been asking for Gustav.” I didn't move.

Johannes shook his head.

“So what now? You're going to go back, take over?” It wasn't what I'd expected from the man.

“No. There are three of us,” he grimaced. “Two, now; we're going to take the boy with us, go south, to some of my relatives.”

“He won't thank you for it.”

“The boy won't. The man might.”

I nodded. He'd planned a military operation around my departure, and I had thought him just clinging and sentimental. Now he was taking on a task that I'd quailed from. We rode back to Stefan. I dismounted, and after a moment the man did the same.

“Johannes,” I said, quietly, placed my hands on his shoulders. He pulled me into a quick embrace, then let me go. “We don't have a great deal of time. Someone will come looking for us fairly soon.”

Johannes helped Stefan dismount from Invictus, then gave the horse a farewell pat. If I'd been willing to give the chestnut up for anyone, I might have done it for him, right then. We all mounted up, and I wished them luck. Johannes was talking quietly and urgently to the boy as I rode away. I didn't envy him the months ahead, but I thought Stefan had been luckier than he might ever realise. I would have doubtless ended up trying to beat the vice out of him; Johannes would find a more patient way.

I travelled slowly, once we were out of Gustav's lands. Brun had endurance enough, for a dog, but he was not a horse and he was still young. I could not expect him to cover thirty miles a day, watch the camp at night and still be fit enough to hunt with me or fight for me if need arose, though he would apply himself willingly enough to all those tasks.

Besides, I was not in any hurry. I was not running. I had come to think that Guy must have died out in the snow, for no-one had heard anything of him and a one-armed Englishman was distinctive enough.

Still, I took precautions. I tethered the horses at night, set Brun to guard them, slept with my sword and bow to hand. A couple of times Brun woke me with snarling, but it must have been some animal passing by, because though I sat awake the rest of the night there was nothing.

After a week or so we found a deserted farmhouse, with enough grazing for a few days, and I decided to rest the animals and myself. My injuries were long healed but travelling was tiring and I was starting to feel my age. I found a mattress and slept in reasonable comfort in the kitchen of the place, Brun at the open door, where we could both see the horses in the small paddock.

The next day I decided to go hunting. Brun was trained to wolf and boar, not the deer that I was after. I left him on guard, with Demon. Invictus and I chased down a small herd, got a fine stag and I brought it back slung over the chestnut's back, behind me.

As we came back in sight of the farmhouse I checked the horse. Demon was bucking against his tether in the paddock. I could hear Brun's snarling. I kicked Invictus into a canter, bow in my hand.

Brun had his forefeet on the man lying on his back in the grass, was growling deep, teeth showing. A sharp whistle sounded and the dog lunged; I checked him with a word. Demon bucked again, but I'd tied him well. I cantered up to Brun, looked down.

“Make another sound and the dog will likely take your throat out.” I dismounted, turned to Demon. The black was used to my mastery now; he calmed when I spoke to him but still rolled his eyes, watching the man on the ground. I led him and Invictus off to the small stable; he'd be more settled with the chestnut beside him.

Then I walked into the house, came back with a long wrapped bundle. I walked over to Gisborne, called the dog a step or two off, set him to watching. Guy hitched himself onto his elbow, slowly. “Did you get him for my benefit?”

I shrugged. “One man can't watch and sleep. I should have got a dog years ago.” I dropped the scabbard and sword down next to his head.

“Demon's tack is in the stable. I'll saddle him for you. Then you can go.”

Guy's eyes were narrow against the noon sun. “Very obliging. You're in a hurry to be rid of me. Aren't were friends again, now you've had your revenge?”

I laughed. “We never were friends. And that wasn't my revenge. If Gustav chose to flay the back off you for breaching his hospitality, that's his concern. I merely stopped him from hanging you. Nothing is settled between us.”

Guy grimaced. “You enjoyed the show though.”

“No, not really.” I was honest. “I've never enjoyed seeing anything in pain, man or beast. Or even you.”

“That's going to make your revenge a little unsatisfying, isn't it?” He was watching me intently.

“Leave that to me to worry about.” Gisborne shifted and the dog was up on his haunches. “Watch, Brun.”

“So why did you stop him?” Guy was ignoring the mastiff.

I had been thinking about this. I didn't want to play word games with Guy any longer.

“What happened was, in part, my responsibility. I knew you'd do something like that, should have closed you down years ago. You don't take a wolf to your hearth then act surprised when it savages you.”

“Wolf,” Guy grinned, pleased. “You like having a wolf there, though, don't you?”

“I don't need one.” I pointed out. “I have a dog now, who hunts wolves.”

“A fine dog,” Guy agreed. “Tell me, do you crouch under him, panting, while he fucks you every night? Or there some things that only a wolf can do?”

I wasn't rising to that one. “You're not the only man I can take to my bed, Gisborne.”

“I heard as much.” His mood had turned. “Heard that you and your lover had slaughtered your host, run away. There's no sign of him here; did you fall out? I'm disappointed. I was looking forward to that meeting.” His voice was cold enough that I was glad Johannes was a hundred miles away by now.

I didn't owe him any explanation, found myself explaining anyway. “Gustav had a boy. Had damaged him. Johannes rescued him. It had nothing to do with me.”

“I remember the boy.” Guy frowned. “How long had Gustav had him?”

“Two years.”

He shook his head. “Probably too late then.”

I didn't like Johannes' sacrifice dismissed. “Not necessarily. The boy's still only fourteen. Time to change.”

Guy grimaced. “I knew one of Gustav's little darlings, years ago. He was seventeen by then, had sighed up with a mercenary unit. His commander asked me to investigate an allegation of rape. The boy was open enough; he'd met a girl he liked, had bought her some piece of cheap jewellery. She'd thrown her arms around him and kissed him, hadn't objected when he put his hand under her dress; he knew she wanted him so he took her. He didn't know why anyone was making a fuss.”

He sighed. “I went to the girl's father's house, to talk to her. Couldn't get a word out of her, didn't need to. Her father told me she was nine years old.

“We sent his belongings back to Gustav, with a warning. For years after that he kept to boys old enough to be just about decent. When I saw this one I intended to talk to him, when everyone was sober, but events rather overtook me.”

I thought of Stefan's hands on everyone, no sense of wrong. At least Johannes was trying.

“So tell me about this lover of yours, Robin.” He seemed unconcerned about the fact that he was still lying on the ground, the dog's teeth still bared.

“No.”

“God, you're shy!” He laughed. “I'll have it out of you in the end, every kiss, every fuck, every sweet word. Which one was it; would I remember him?”

“You ought to. You had him strip me, if you recall.”

“One of those two.” He grinned. “Not the dark one, surely. The fair. Reasonable taste, at least, Robin. I was tempted to fuck him myself. Did he tie you up and play rough?”

“No.”

“That must have been a disappointment for you. Is that why you left him behind?”

I hated Guy, hated the way he knew me so well. I wanted to think myself a decent man, not one who'd leave a lover because the man wouldn't hit him.

He shook his head at me. “If it's any consolation, Robin, you wouldn't have liked it if he had. Playacting wouldn't please you, not now. You're addicted to the real thing. You need to know that you're helpless, not pretending it.”

His grin was predatory, “Walk away from me and you might as well forswear sex completely, because no man or woman will ever come close to your memories of the feel of me on top of you.”

I felt a spike of arousal, lost my temper.

“Do you want to know what I felt last time you were on top of me, Guy? I felt the bleeding lacerations here,” I traced a line across my chest, “and here, and here, and here, all ground into the bed. And the ones here,” I turned, drew swift lines on my back and thighs, “crushed against your body. And the tears in my arse you were ripping wider with every thrust. And try as I might I can't remember one damn moment of pleasure in the whole thing.”

“No,” Guy glanced at the dog, back at me. “Pain's never aroused you. The moment I start really hurting you, your cock shrinks. It's a good thing, really. I'd have to find some other way of disciplining you, if you enjoyed it.”

I hissed in outrage and the dog growled. Guy ignored the beast.

“What turns you on, Robin, is terror. The next time I touch you you're going to remember what I did, you're going to know what I could do, and you're going to be fucking scared, and being the hero that you are, you're going to fight it, and that is going to make you so fucking hard you won't be even close to thinking straight.”

It might be true. It didn't change things. I shrugged.

“That's how it was. Now it's over.”

“Why?”

“Because,” I took a breath,” You don't know when to stop. First it was beatings, and then, when that wasn't enough for you, rape. Now it's both those and mutilation. What next, Guy? Will you take an eye? A hand? My balls? This time next year will I be blind and crippled, still following you?

“Nothing to hold you back, you said, and took a knife to my face to prove it. It could be the best fuck that the world has ever known, and it still wouldn't be worth being hacked to pieces for.

“You know I'll tolerate your beatings. If you need to force yourself on me every few months to prove something to someone, there's no point in pretending that I won't take that, because I came back to you, knowing you'd do it again. But to be crippled and mutilated- no. I'm a fighter, Guy. I won't let you make me less than that. So this is over.”

There was a long pause, then, unexpectedly, Guy nodded.

“You're right. I don't want you less than you are. Crippling you has nothing to do with endurance. It is a place to draw a line.”

I shrugged. “That's easy to say, but you lose your temper, Guy. I can't trust you.”

“I've never lost it so much that I haven't known what you mean to me. If I say that I will cause you no permanent harm, you can believe it, because if I do you will leave. I know your pride, better than anyone. And I have never lied to you.”

I frowned down at him. “So what are you promising?”

“No permanent harm.”

“And no disfigurement, Guy.” I raised a hand to my cheek. “I am running out of face.”

“Nor disfigurement.” Guy frowned. “Though the slightest scratch can sometimes take infection and scar.”

“Keep to your intentions, and I will treat accidents as just that.”

I took a breath. What was I doing? Had I just legitimised all sorts of mistreatment? I looked down at Guy.

“This does not mean that I will tolerate every whim of yours, Gisborne. I am not a whipping boy. Abuse me and I will leave.”

Guy shook his head. “I have never once hurt you without cause, Robin. You know that.”

Cause in his eyes, not mine. He'd beaten, raped and cut me because I wouldn't tell him I loved him. What was I thinking, to let him stay?

I was thinking of his eyes, when we'd parted, burning into mine. Of the way that he was going to kiss me, when I let him up, would drag me into the house and take me, fierce and rough and triumphant, on that mattress. Of how we'd curl up together tonight, how I'd fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. And how tomorrow we'd ride together along the forest roads, the dog at our heels.

I was thinking of how he'd be at my back, as long as we both lived, whether I chose him or not. Felt the fear and the pride in that knowledge.

And I was thinking of violence, and pain, and knowing that they were close, underneath all the good times, and not wanting them gone.

I'd lied to Gisborne, unknowing. Love was the wrong word for this, but there was no other that would serve.

“Down, Brun.” I stretched out a hand for Guy's single one, felt cold fingers in mine, closed my hand around them as if I would never let him go.