They set out the next morning at first light, after a cold breakfast and a quick wash in the freezing waters of the river.

It was slow going compared to traveling on the Pilgrim's Road. Here the road was a barely-used ruin, and they had to carefully guide their horses along the rutted, pebble-strewn tracks. Gerren shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and absently rubbed at a sore spot on his thigh; he was unused to riding Xandrian's mare and his muscles were complaining from being on a larger horse. He missed his pony.

"Hold up a minute, Gerren—let me adjust your stirrups." Jomm rode up alongside him and dismounted, and then he reached for the buckles that held the stirrups in place. "I've been watching you squirm half the morning."

"Gray Girl is bigger than Blackie was," Gerren said. He patted the mare's neck to apologize for the complaint.

"Yes she is, and your arse isn't used to her yet," Jomm said while he fiddled with the straps.

"I miss Blackie."

"I know, lad," Jomm said. "He was a good pony. But I'm happy that you're still with us." He moved around to the horse's other side and made some more adjustments. "Here, try this."

Gerren put his feet back in the stirrups. That felt much better! "Thank you, Jomm," he said.

"You're welcome." Jomm got back on his horse and rode ahead of him.

Gerren was glad that Jomm was friendly with him again, and he wondered what had made the tracker so angry with him the previous morning. In spite of Jomm's tendency to boss him around, Gerren liked the man and enjoyed learning things from him. Especially last night. Gerren looked up at the clear morning sky and remembered how it had looked in the darkness; when the stars had splashed the sky like glittering stones above him, seemingly close enough to touch.

Their morning ride was uneventful, and just before midday they stopped in a clearing near the bank of the river. Large boulders were everywhere, scattered about on the ground as if dropped from the sky. The men perched on a few of the mid-size rocks while they ate their meal of cheese and assorted cured meats, and they finished the last of the fresh rolls.

Xandrian ate his food quickly and rose from the boulder he was sitting on. "I'm going to do another trap-spell search. We're at the edge of where I scanned this morning, so I think this session will carry us to where we will stop for the night." He then walked a short distance away and sat down on the grass, cross-legged, and faced the valley that was their destination.

The others took their time finishing their meal.

"All right, then," H'rit said quietly when they were done, and he began to gather up the remains of their lunch. "I'll go wash our things and fill our waterskins. It took him almost an hour this morning, so we might as well rest while we wait."

"Nap time," Jomm agreed, and he leaned back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. "Don't wander too far, Gerren, and make sure you don't bother Xan."

"I won't," Gerren said. He got up and spent some time walking along the river bank, looking around for interesting things to put in his pouch. The rocks were ugly here, though, and he found nothing worth keeping. Peeking through the trees, Gerren looked back at the clearing where Jomm slept; H'rit had joined the tracker and was dozing as well.

He glanced over at Xandrian and found him sitting perfectly still, his hands resting on his thighs, palms upraised. His eyes were closed and every now and then his lips would move, silently chanting a spell.

Gerren clambered over the rocky river bank and found a sunny spot where he could rest and watch the mage.

Gerren liked to watch Xandrian use his magic, to see and feel the change in his aura. While Xandrian always had a noticeable aura of power, it increased when he was actively working a spell. Gerren was fascinated by the humans' magic, as it was very different from his own. Xandrian and H'rit spent many hours studying their books, and most of their spells required them to speak strange words or make mysterious gestures or drawings; he had to do none of that when he was in his true form. Gerren fished the clay amulet out from under his shirt and examined it. Even now, after wearing it for almost two moons, it still hummed with power.

Power was shimmering around Xandrian now, and it raised the small hairs on Gerren's arms and made the back of his neck tingle. It was making other things tingle too, and Gerren's breeches felt tighter as an erection began to strain against the worn cotton. He brushed a lazy hand over his stiffening member, and his eyes slid shut at the pleasure the touch caused.

He wondered if he could get Xandrian to couple with him, later, when it was dark. While gazing at the stars the previous night had been wonderful, Gerren had missed sharing Xandrian's bed, missed being pressed against the mattress while Xandrian thrust deep inside him. At the very least, Gerren wanted to have the mage's cock in his mouth again. He wanted to run his tongue along hardened flesh and listen to Xandrian's pleasure-noises while he tasted the bitter-salt tang of his seed.

His own cock twitched in approval of the idea.

Jomm's horse nickered softly, and the noise brought Gerren's attention back to where Jomm and H'rit were resting. He eyed the other two men, and a small frown furrowed his brow. They would most likely all be sleeping close to each other again tonight, he realized, and he remembered what Xandrian had told him about their pleasure being a private thing. There was no 'private' here.

So there would probably be no couple-fucking.

Probably no hot, hard cock in his mouth either.

Gerren sighed and rolled onto his back, and he watched the clouds drift in the sky above him. They were big and white, and they reminded him of the mashed potatoes he would sometimes have for supper. He marveled at how the air would become cool when the clouds covered the sun, and then become warm against when the sun re-appeared. The feel of the sun on his skin made him sleepy, and so he closed his eyes and slept.

"Get up, lazybones!" Jomm nudged him none too gently in the ribs with a booted foot. "Time to go."

"Hey!" Gerren protested. "I'm not lazy! You were sleeping too." He scrambled up off the ground and swatted bits of grass from his breeches, and then he followed Jomm to where H'rit and Xandrian were standing by their horses.

"—at least two of them," Xandrian said to H'rit.

"You found something?" Jomm walked around the horses and made a quick check of straps and bits.

"Yes," the mage replied, and he shot Gerren a sharp look. "I sensed a suspicious spot over there"—he pointed to an area off in the distance ahead of them—"and another further north."

Jomm raised a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight and looked where Xandrian was pointing. "We won't need to worry about the second one, I think; we'll be veering off and heading into the valley in a couple of hours. There used to be a merchants' road further up, that's probably where he figured most people would go. You think the first one is before then?"

Xandrian nodded.

"Hunh," Jomm said. "I must've been lucky, then. Maybe I missed them because I didn't take that road."

"That's probably why," Xandrian agreed. "Now that I've sensed that spot I'll know when we're getting close to it."

"All right then; let's get going. You and I will ride point, so that you can stop us when necessary." Jomm swung up onto his saddle, and the others did the same.

Jomm and Xandrian started off down the track, and as Xandrian rode by he glanced at Gerren again. It was a strange look, Gerren thought; there was annoyance in the glance, but a flash of heat as well.

"Come on, Gerren," H'rit called.

Gerren patted the mare and followed.

They traveled for another three hours before Xandrian stopped them. The mage dismounted and walked over to a cluster of tall pine trees, and then he took out his dagger and scratched glyphs in the dirt in a v-shape in front of them while he murmured accompanying spells. When he finished he traced a design in the air, spoke a strange, garbled word and touched the point of the glyph pattern with his index finger.

The trees suddenly glowed a bright, crimson red, and the glow slowly faded until it disappeared entirely.

Xandrian looked back at the other men. "This one's gone now." He pointed further up the rutted track. "We're not going on that far, are we, Jomm?"

Jomm shook his head and gestured at a rocky cliff-face that was ahead of them to the northwest. "We're going that way. The old shepherd's trail is coming up in about two miles, and that will take us to where we want to be."

"Good," Xandrian said.

Gerren thought Xandrian looked tired, and he noticed that his normally strong aura was pale. "Are you all right, Xan?"

"I'm fine. It just took a little more effort than I expected."

"Here, let me give you some qi," H'rit said, and he started to walk toward Xandrian.

Xandrian waved him off. "Don't bother. We'll be stopping in a few more hours, and it's not like I'm walking." He climbed back on his gelding and extended his hand, indicating the way ahead of them. "After you," he said to Jomm.

Jomm rode on ahead, and H'rit followed. Gerren laughed when the healer reached over and touched Xandrian as he passed, releasing a stream of ghostly green qi into his friend.

Xandrian scowled and berated H'rit for the waste of energy, but Gerren noticed that the mage looked much better afterward.

H'rit looked smugly satisfied.

~.~

"People actually take animals on this … path?" Xandrian cast a dubious eye on the barely-discernible trail ahead of them. "It doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time."

Jomm laughed. "People used to take animals along this track—they would take flocks of sheep down to the plains to graze. You're right, though, it hasn't been used in many years, so it won't be an easy ride. But it will take us to where Nikolon is, and I doubt he counted on people traveling this way. He might not even know about this trail."

Xandrian nodded. "Very good," he said.

Jomm gave him a crooked grin. "I'm so happy you approve."

"Fuck you."

They slowly made their way single-file along the narrow, winding path. It was overgrown with weeds and low-hanging branches, and Jomm rode first, occasionally stopping their progress so that he could clear the path of rocks or fallen branches. He lectured them about "trail courtesy" and how they should hold branches aside until the next rider could grasp them.

Gerren was fascinated with how close they were to the trees while they rode. For almost two moons they had traveled on roads, where most of the time the forest had been off in the distance or cleared well away. Even when they were in the mountain pass there had been no trees; Gerren had seen nothing but a few scrubby bushes and lots of rocks. Here, they were in the forest itself. It became a game to caress the satiny leaves and run his fingers along the rough, bumpy bark of the branches. He laughed as he ducked under a swaying branch that H'rit had released.

Xandrian cursed behind him. Gerren looked back and saw that the mage had been hit by the branch Gerren had just ducked under. "Damn it, Gerren—you're supposed to hold the damn branch and wait until I take it!"

"Sorry," Gerren said, biting his lip.

"This is the third time you've let a branch hit me. That's it, move over—you're going last." Xandrian rode past him while the other men laughed.

The trail was soon was rising higher along the northern side of the wooded valley. Gerren looked down at the dense forest below and was reminded of the mountain pass they had taken only days earlier. He was reminded of the rockslide as well. He shuddered.

Almost as if Jomm heard his thoughts, the tracker called out, "You okay back there, Gerren? We'll be fine; the rocks are different here and there aren't any stupid nobles racing to the top of the valley."

"I'm all right," Gerren answered.

Xandrian glanced back at him. "You sure?"

There was genuine concern in the mage's expression, and the sight of the emotion made Gerren smile. "Yes," he said. Now Gerren was reminded of the night after the rockslide, when Xandrian had shown even more emotion, when he had given him pleasure and coupled with him. The memory warmed him.

By late afternoon the sun was starting to dip below the mountain range to their west, cooling the air and lengthening their shadows. When they reached a wide, rough-hewn ledge Jomm called a halt. "We'll stop here for the night," he said while he dismounted, and then he pointed toward the bramble-covered rockface to their left. "There's a shallow cave behind all those vines; it has plenty of room for us and the horses." He turned and gestured at the edge of the trail. "That's a path that leads to the valley floor, and there's a creek down there that has fresh water for drinking and washing up."

"Was this where the shepherds used to stay, Jomm?" H'rit had climbed off his gelding and was peering down into the dense foliage below.

"I think so. The cave's been enlarged, so it could easily shelter one or two people and a decent-sized flock of sheep. And the location makes sense travel-wise—there's no way to safely traverse this trail in one day. We'll get to the top of the plateau late tomorrow morning, and we'll reach the castle by late afternoon."

"My goodness, that's a lot of effort just to let sheep graze," H'rit said. "No wonder clothes made with Arrellian wool are so expensive."

Jomm laughed. "It's worth it, though," he said. "There must be something in the mountain air, because their fleece makes some of the warmest, lightest wool I've ever worn."

Gerren hopped off his saddle and went over to the barely visible cave. Long, twisting vines covered most of the entrance, and he pulled aside a swathe of leafy curtain and peered inside. All that he could see was a leaf-strewn dirt floor and bumpy walls of rock. "There are no bears," he said, disappointed.

Xandrian rolled his eyes. "You're unhappy about this."

Gerren pointed inside the opening. "The rocks do not sparkle here, they are ugly. This is a boring cave."

Jomm snorted. "Picky little snot. Your arse'll be warmer in that 'boring' cave than out on the open plain." He shoved two large, oilcloth buckets at Gerren. "Here—take these down that trail, fill them up at the creek and carry them back up. They're for the horses." He tossed two smaller, but similar containers to Xandrian. "You can fill these up, they'll be for us. H'rit and I will clear away this brush and unload the animals."

Moments later Gerren was picking his way down the worn, overgrown trail, swinging the empty buckets while he walked ahead of Xandrian. He could hear the rushing water of the creek, although he could not see it yet through all of the foliage. He grinned; it was like he was going to a secret place, just like when he had found the second waterfall. He glanced back at Xandrian. "Do you think there might be a waterfall here, Xandrian?"

"Probably not," Xandrian replied. "The water is flowing from the large river we left behind." He bent down and cleared a tangle of roots from the path. "We should clear hazards like this now; otherwise we'll risk tripping when our buckets are full and heavy."

Gerren laughed. "You sound like Jomm."

Xandrian whacked him with one of his empty buckets.

Ten minutes later they reached the valley floor. It was a wild looking place, littered with large boulders and fallen trees, and when Gerren looked up he could barely see the ledge they had just left. The air was filled with birdsong and the rushing of the creek, and Gerren drank his fill of the sparkling clear water before he filled the buckets. He watched Xandrian fill his containers and take a drink, and his gaze lingered on the droplets of water that clung to the mage's glistening lips.

Xandrian stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He walked toward Gerren, and then he placed a hand on Gerren's chest and pushed him back against a large boulder that had fallen next to the creek.

"Xandrian, wha—" Gerren's words were cut off by a hot, hungry mouth. Xandrian's kisses were rough and deep, and his tongue invaded Gerren's mouth while his hands slid up to cradle Gerren's face. Gerren groaned and opened his mouth wider to welcome the onslaught, and their tongues were soon thrusting and sliding wetly together. Gerren worked his hands beneath Xandrian's cloak and clutched at the soft wool of Xandrian's tunic, trying to pull the mage closer to him.

Xandrian broke off their kiss and glared at him, panting. "You little shit," he said with a low growl, his breath puffing warm and damp on Gerren's face, "I could sense you this afternoon, when I was searching for traps. You distracted the hell out of me—I'm lucky I found those two spots." He sought Gerren's mouth again.

Gerren kissed him back until he was gasping for air. "M-me?" Gerren wasn't sure where this was going, but he liked the rough kisses and the way that Xandrian's body was pressed close to his. The hard ridge of an erection nudged against his hip, and Gerren smelled the musk of Xandrian's arousal.

"Yes, you." Xandrian traced Gerren's lips with a callused finger. "You were thinking about me fucking you," he murmured, and he pushed the digit into Gerren's mouth. "And then you were thinking about sucking my cock."

Gerren slid his tongue along Xandrian's finger, and he was rewarded with a husky groan.

Xandrian released him and leaned back against the boulder while he hiked up his tunic and fumbled with the ties on his breeches, and Gerren dropped to his knees and helped him undo the laces. Gerren soon had what he had been wanting all afternoon, and while he eagerly licked and sucked at hard, hot flesh he could hear the muffled grunts and gasps of Xandrian's pleasure.

Slender fingers tangled in his hair while Xandrian's hips began to rock, thrusting into his mouth. Gerren made quick work of his own laces to free his aching erection, and then he stroked himself while he continued to move his tongue along the underside of Xandrian's cock.

A choked moan escaped Xandrian's throat, and seconds later warm, wet spend flooded Gerren's mouth. He swallowed the bitter fluid while his own climax quickly overtook him, and with a muffled groan Gerren shuddered and came, his release spattering on the fallen leaves that covered the forest floor where he knelt.

Gerren let Xandrian's softening length slip from his mouth, and then he rested his forehead on the jut of Xandrian's hipbone, panting as he caught his breath. Xandrian's hands left his hair and gripped his shirt, and Gerren let himself be pulled up and pressed back against the boulder.

"What a mouth you have," Xandrian murmured, brushing his thumb across Gerren's wet, swollen lips.

"I pleased you?" Gerren nipped the stroking thumb.

"Gods, yes," Xandrian said, and he tilted up Gerren's chin and kissed him, slow and deep.

Gerren pushed his tongue into Xandrian's mouth, letting the mage taste the tang of his own release. He slipped his hand into the front of Xandrian's breeches and cupped the flesh he found there. "I want to do it again," he said. "I like tasting your flesh that way."

Xandrian groaned and kissed him again, trailing his lips along Gerren's jaw and down the side of his neck. Gerren gasped when he felt Xandrian's teeth sink into the sensitive skin at the juncture of neck and shoulder—it felt both ticklish and incredibly arousing, and he buried his face against Xandrian's shoulder to muffle a moan.

"It's not that hard to fill buckets with water, you know." High above them, Jomm's voice cut through the haze of Gerren's arousal. "You put them in the water, water goes in them. Very simple."

Xandrian sighed and tugged Gerren's hand out of his breeches. "There was a lot of debris on the trail," he called. "We're on our way." He pushed Gerren in the direction of the creek. "We need to wash up," he said quietly. "Make sure you rinse your mouth out, too."

They quickly washed and re-did their lacings, and were soon hiking back up the trail. The buckets were very heavy now that they were filled, and Gerren was glad they had taken the time to clear away the roots and rocks. By the time they reached the ledge, both men were happy to set their burdens down.

"There's our intrepid water-bearers," Jomm said, and he picked up one of the large buckets and carried it over to where the horses were settled. The animals eagerly drank, nosing each other's muzzles aside to get better access to the cold, clean water. "Set that other one over by the cave's mouth for now, Gerren—we'll give that bucket to them later tonight."

"Won't they need it in the morning?" H'rit asked as he took the smaller buckets into the cave. Gerren looked inside and saw that a fire was already going, and a large pot was filled with chopped vegetables and chunks of salted beef. His stomach rumbled in anticipation of the stew that was to come.

Jomm filled the pot with some of the water and set it on a grate over the fire. "Aye, they'll need it then, too. It just means another trip to the creek at dawn."

"Xandrian and I can get the water again!" Gerren yelped seconds later when Xandrian poked him sharply in the ribs.

Jomm laughed while he stirred the contents of the pot. "He might not want to exert himself again, lad—look, today's trip has him red in the face."

Gerren glanced at Xandrian; the mage's cheeks were indeed splashed with color, but the poke and the clench of Xandrian's jaw suggested embarrassment rather than fatigue.

Xandrian's gaze met his, and the glitter in those violet eyes told Gerren that they would definitely be going to the creek at first light.

tbc…