Hi Friends!
Thanks for the reviews and understanding. I can tell you already that I'm not going to finish this before school starts up again. I thought I had an extra week to myself but my school decided to spring three impromptu meetings on me - taking away my writing time :(
We are nearing the end though peeps!
Please forgive any mistakes.
Enjoy!
The castle hallways were vast and winding. It didn't take Derek very long to actually get lost as he tried to find his way back to the Great Hall. So when he spotted the intimidating figure of Raphael approaching him from the other end of the corridor he let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh thank God! I thought I was doomed to wander these halls for eternity," he called out jokingly, hoping that the knight would buy into his half-ruse.
The king's brother didn't acknowledge the other man's jest and approached him with a stern countenance. "You've been gone for a long time. The king sent me out to find you."
"Believe me, I know. I've swear I've been walking in circles since I left the privy chamber," Derek said good-naturedly.
Raphael raised one eyebrow. "You got lost?" he asked, skepticism dripping from his lips.
"Is it really that hard to believe? This place is enormous."
"Right, but the privy is only one right turn down from the Great Hall," the knight countered.
Derek's face lost all sense of playfulness, "Well apparently I made a left."
"Touché, Your Highness. Shall I lead you back?" Raphael suggested, dropping the subject begrudgingly.
"Lead the way," was all he said before the man turned heel and tramped off down the hallway.
The music was still in full swing when Derek reemerged into the Great Hall. A small growl clawed at his throat knowing that such happiness could occur right down the hallway from where his husband was being practically tortured.
"Derek! I was worried that you'd left," Charles exclaimed upon seeing him walk into the room.
The young king forced down the angry retort he wanted to deliver and plastered a smile on his face, "Nonsense, Charles. It's just that your castle is much too large. It felt like I was wandering around for hours…thankfully your brother found me before I died of starvation."
Charles chuckled loudly and threw his arm around his fellow king. He started escorting his new friend back to their seats but not before throwing Raphael a conspiratorial look. "Would you care for another mug of mead?"
Derek pulled out of the king's grasp and stood by his throne, observing the room looking for his friends. "I-uh…I'm not really feeling up to another round," he said absentmindedly, raising his hand in the air to catch Lord Rossi's attention. "All that wandering around made me realize how tired I am after our journey. I'm thinking it's about time to retire for the night."
Charles's squinted his eyes suspiciously but didn't call Derek out on his blatant lie. "Of course. How foolish of me to have expected otherwise. Will you be requiring any services in your room overnight? Shall I send someone to stoke the fire? A late night snack?"
"No, that won't be necessary. Breakfast when the cock crows will be fine," Derek replied, nodding his head at Rossi as he joined them up on the dais. "Lord Rossi, I think the long trip has finally caught up with me. I'm about to retire for the night. Will you do me a favor and keep an eye on Lady Penelope as she dances away her energy preserves? I wouldn't want her getting into any trouble whilst I'm away."
"Of course, Your Grace. I'll be happy to stay with her – "
"Oh balderdash, Derek. I'll keep an eye on your fair friend," Charles interrupted with a toothy grin.
The younger king hesitated.
The Georgian King picked up on the other's uncertainty immediately. "If you can't trust my word on something as simple as this, than what are you doing here?"
Realizing his mistake, Derek instantly launched into a quickly fabricated explanation. "It's not you I don't trust, Charles…it's that vivacious vixen out there tearing up your dance floor. I saw the way she flirted with you earlier. I wouldn't put it past her to follow you to your chambers for some late night fun. And she is already spoken for…so…I-I just want to make sure she leaves here with her…uh…integrity intact…if you know what I mean."
"Ahhh, I see. The lady does not know when to stop," Charles stated.
"Exactly…once she sets her sights on something she wants she has a hard time backing down," Derek said, internally wincing at the way he was tarnishing Penelope's reputation even though it was for the greater good.
"Well, would it help if I said I have no interest in the lady, as such. I have a much better outlet for my desires waiting for me upstairs," he gloated with a boisterous laugh. "No…Lady Penelope is just an admiral dance partner and nothing more. You can rest assured tonight that the beautiful lady's reputation will remain as pristine as it is now," Charles guaranteed.
"My thanks, Charles. I will have sweet dreams knowing that no harm will come to my dear friend," Derek said, playing along. "Lord Rossi, will you be staying as well?"
The older man, who had been observing the entire conversation with interest, could tell that his king was not comfortable with leaving Penelope behind without an ally in the room. "No, I think I will stick around and find myself a pretty cunny to fondle."
His lewd comment drew a raucous hoot from Charles, who then clapped him on his back. "Well said, Lord Rossi. Come now, I think I see a plump figure ripe for the picking standing coyly in the corner."
Derek felt a flood of relief come over him as he watched the two men walk away. He then turned and gestured to Sir Hotchner to join him. "Do you remember how to get back to the guest chambers?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Lead the way then," he ordered.
The walk back to the king's rooms was quite. Once they reached the lavish chambers and were closeted away inside, Sir Hotchner broke the silence, "Where did you go? Did you find anything out?"
The king rubbed his hand over his head and let out a grunt of frustration. "I…uh…I don't want to talk about it right now. Let's wait till the morning when Lord Rossi and Penelope are here…I'll tell you everything then."
The knight immediately backed off of his line of questioning. "As you wish, Your Grace. Do you require anything further of me before you retire?"
"No…no, I'll be fine getting ready for bed on my own," Derek said distractedly. His mind was still lingering on his husband, who was one wing over - ready and willing to sacrifice another piece of himself so that they could all leave here alive.
The next morning found Derek waking up as soon as the rooster squawked loudly at the sun. He had spent the long agonizing night tossing and turning trying to banish images of Spencer submitting to Charles from his head. So when the sweet sound of that pompous bird announced that dawn had arrived he flung back his covers and planted his feet on the cold stone floor.
Derek went over to the wardrobe and rifled through his belongings until he found a robe he could use to battle the bitter chill that permeated the air. He wrapped the soft fabric around his body and walked over to the fireplace. Once he got there he grabbed the poker and tried to stoke the fire back to life using the hot embers. Unfortunately, the ashes of last night's blaze were not hot enough to coax back to life.
Never one to rely solely on his servants to get things done, Derek grabbed a few fresh logs and a handful of kindling. Within minutes there was a healthy flame licking at the wood, radiating heat to the lone occupant.
He then sat back in the chair that was stationed in front of the heat source and stared into the flames.
How was his lover this morning?
Had Charles been rough on him last night?
Would he get to see him today?
Were they really going to be successful in saving Spencer from this nightmare?
Those questions and more flitted through his mind as he watched the tendrils of fire flicker to and fro. The burning wisps were so hypnotizing that the king didn't even hear the entrance of his friends into his bedchamber. Instead, it was a sharp hand gripping his shoulder that drew him away from his thoughts, causing him to jump in surprise.
"What? Oh, Lord Rossi…I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in," he said glumly after he realized who it was.
"I gathered as much. Are you up for some breakfast?" he asked, gesturing to the cart laden with food that Lady Penelope was pushing into the room.
The enticing aroma of honeyed cakes, fresh berries, and sizzling breakfast meats teased his nose, causing his stomach to growl in anticipation. "I guess I am," he admitted, surprised that he had an appetite in light of the situation.
"Wonderful," Penelope gushed, "I was worried I'd have to force feed you." She eagerly loaded a plate with all the goodies it could hold and thrusted it into his hands. "Now eat!"
The others were polite enough to allow the king to eat a few morsels of food in peace before they started peppering him with questions. Derek was midway through his second raspberry scone when Lord Rossi decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.
The older man set his cup of morning tea to the side and sighed, "So…do you want to tell us what happened last night?"
Derek stopped in mid-chew and swallowed what was left in his mouth whole. The food traveled in one big lump down his gullet which was a mistake because he could have sworn it got stuck halfway down. He took a few drinks of the fresh squeezed orange juice that was in the glass next to him and used the extra time to gather his thoughts.
Commendably, the others sat silently waiting for him to answer.
Deciding it was now or never, he delved into his story. "Um…last night I was able to steal a few moments away with Spencer."
"What? How?" Penelope squeaked in surprise.
"I…uh…followed him and the prince out of the Great Hall and acted like I needed to use the bathroom. I convinced Prince Tobias to take me with him and allow me to use his father's privy. After we got to the king's chambers I took care of business then made up an excuse to go into Charles's bedchamber - where Spencer was being held. I fooled the prince and shut him out of the room; an act that bought me some alone time with Spencer," Derek said, trying to condense his version to the simplest form.
"And Tobias just let you?" Lord Rossi asked skeptically. "I mean…I know the kid's a little bit dense but even he had to know something fishy was going on…"
Derek held up his hand to stay the older man's words, "I'll get to that in a second."
"So what happened next?" Penelope queried.
"…I tried to talk to him – I-I wrapped him up in my arms and tried to explain what took me so long…but he wouldn't answer me," tears started forming in Derek's eyes as he retold those few harrowing moments. "I-it turns out that Charles – that bastard – had him wearing a gag underneath that veil."
Lady Penelope gasped at the revelation. "Y-you couldn't even tell. Oh, my poor troubled king! Why would that awful man do that to him?"
Derek scoffed, "It seems as though Spencer has had trouble in the past with knowing when to keep quiet."
"It's true. When I arrived he wasn't able to contain himself and he ended up shouting out to me in front of the whole court. Charles wasn't too pleased with him after that – it's…uh…it's why he whipped him," Lord Rossi supplied with a wince.
The king fought hard to contain the rage that came with the new knowledge that Rossi had given him. He felt it bubbling up, but wisely knew that letting it out now would accomplish nothing. So he quelled the urge to explode by counting to ten and then carried on with his tale. "Right. Well, that goes along with what Tobias said about his father not trusting Spencer to be quiet."
"Tobias?" Sir Hotchner asked with concern. "Why would he have told you that?"
"Because he was the one to show me the gag. Remember, Spencer's hands were secured behind his back; he couldn't show me. So when…when I was in the middle of begging him to talk to me, Tobias interrupted us…apparently he'd been in there all along…I was just too focused on Spencer to notice," Derek admitted.
"Wait – are you saying that Tobias knows about you and King Spencer?" Penelope asked with fear tinting her voice.
"Actually, I'm saying more than that…he figured out who Spencer is," he revealed.
Lord Rossi swore a few profanities before picking the conversation back up, "So what now? I'm assuming that since we weren't arrested by Charles's men last night that the kid's going to stay quiet."
"Yeah, he is…in fact…he wants to help."
"Can we trust him?" Hotchner asked, his misgivings clear in his tone.
"I think we can," Derek replied.
"How do you know, Your Grace?" the knight inquired, needing proof to feel more at ease.
"Because…I think Prince Tobias might just have fallen in love with him," Derek told them.
"Wow!" Penelope exclaimed. "What do we do now?"
"We use the resources we have at hand to free our unfortunate friend," Rossi said simply, as if the answer were as clear as day.
"So you really believe that the land beyond the Mighty Mississippi is really worth going after?" Charles asked his fellow king incredulously. The two monarchs and their counsellors had been sitting in the meeting for well over two hours discussing westward expansion. It was getting close to noon and there were a few grumbles of hunger coming from all around the room. "It's all forest out there – nothing but wood and animal pelts. Why would we want to rule over that?"
"You're not thinking far enough into the future, Charles. One day our lands will be so prosperous that we'll need to spread out. Where will our people go? Out west! Shouldn't we already be in control of that land when they head out that way? Shouldn't our rules already be established and the taxes already sanctioned? I think if we don't make a move to claim that land now we'll be missing out on a big opportunity," Derek argued, knowing that his points would appeal to the greedy man.
The older king sat there contemplating Derek's words. He turned to Raphael, his top advisor, and whispered something in his ear. The knight's response caused a smile to spread across Charles's haggard face.
"Alright, Derek. We agree that you have some valid points…but…," Charles trailed of purposefully.
"But what?"
"What's to stop me from just expanding my borders by myself? Why do I need you? I honestly don't see why we need to work together on this," he finished.
Derek knew that this was his one chance of convincing Charles to go along with him. "Look, we both know that you have the might in this relationship but I have the foresight. I am able to look at any map and plan out a flawless battle plan. My advisors and I can devise attacks that keep our enemies on their toes. If there are any hostile natives living out there you'll definitely need me and my strategies. Think about it and you'll see. Together we'll be unstoppable."
"Perhaps you are right…in that regard. But I never enter a business deal unless my pockets are guaranteed to grow fatter," Charles responded begrudgingly.
Derek smiled, "I wouldn't expect anything less. I've already discussed that with my husband and for starters we'd like to offer you a 40/60 arrangement when it comes to our profits."
Charles's eyebrows rose at the proposed terms.
"That is how confident we are that we'll make a fortune off of that land. We know we're going to make money regardless of how big our cut is," Derek gloated.
The Georgian king tented his fingers and leaned forward, "And what else are you willing to concede?"
"You will get your pick of the land; as long as it's fairly divided according to our arrangement," the young king offered.
A twinkle of mirth shined in the cruel king's eyes, "I would like some time to discuss these terms with my counsellors in private. For now, shall we stop our meeting here and pick it back up on the morrow? My stomach is aching to be fed and we've still got the thrill of the hunt awaiting us after we eat."
"That sounds fair," Derek stated. "But before we adjourn, I'd like propose a trade."
"A trade? For what?" Charles growled.
"As you know, my men captured over seventy of your soldiers when we took back our castle. I don't see the need for keeping them around if you and I are about to enter a business deal," Derek explained.
"Go on," the other king demanded.
The ambitious youth plowed ahead, "Well, I was informed that you also took a few prisoners of war on your way through my country. I would like to make an even trade – today, if possible – my people for your people. It's as simple as that."
The room was silent as Charles mulled over the suggestion. He rubbed his chin with his hand before turning and looking at Raphael. Neither man said a word; rather they seemed to be holding a conversation with their eyes. The king broke his gaze off of his brother and turned back to his new ally, "We will need time to discuss the trade. I am not sure I am willing to give up my spoils of war so easily."
"Of course, Charles. Perhaps you could have an answer by this time tomorrow?" Derek requested.
Charles's eyes narrowed warily, "Why the rush?"
"There are many families in my realm that you have torn asunder. I only wish to put them back together as quickly as I can," he professed, speaking as much for himself and Spencer as he was for the other citizens of Quantico.
His answer seemed to be sufficient for the cagy man nodded his head. "Alright, we will inform you of our decision tomorrow. Now let's eat."
The noonday sun was shining high up in the cloudless sky. Its golden rays were trickling down and reaching through the stained glass of the top half of the oriel window. The rainbow of hues that danced across the hardwood floor had traveled with the sun as it moved through the morning sky. Since dawn, Spencer had been watching the colors crawl through the room until they washed his pale feet in their beauty.
A soft smile graced his lips as he enjoyed the memory that the light soaking through the stained glass evoked in his head – his wedding night. He could feel the gentle caress of Derek's soft hands as they explored his body. He shivered as he imagined his lover's silky lips peppering every inch of his skin with kisses right before he entered –
The bedchamber doors crashed open and Charles came walking into the room with Raphael in tow, sufficiently disrupting Spencer's happy memory.
"It seems like Rossi is living up to his word," Charles was saying as he walked into the room.
"True," Raphael concurred. "King Derek's terms were definitely skewed in your favor."
The king smiled with glee, "I really don't see any reason that we shouldn't agree to his terms, though. I mean, it really doesn't matter in the end…especially if Lord Rossi can fulfill his end of the bargain and deliver Quantico to me on a golden platter."
"Well, like I said, as of right now it seems as though his word is true," Raphael agreed. "But you cannot just go in there tomorrow and sign a contract. You must negotiate something or else you'll seem like a pushover."
Charles grunted before he snapped his fingers, calling forth the usher of the bedchamber. "Prepare me for hawking," he ordered the man as he held out his arms for undressing.
The groomsman quickly stripped the king of his gaudy outer layers and left him standing in his underclothes. He then scuttled around the room and gathered what he needed to dress the king for his afternoon outing.
Spencer, who was sitting upright in the bed, was trying to listen closely to the conversation so he could pass on even the smallest piece of information to his husband. Unfortunately, Charles's sinister eyes had been wandering around the room while he was waiting to be dressed and they fell upon his favorite toy.
"Slave, get off that bed and get over here," he commanded, pointing at the floor in front of him.
The gangly boy, whose limbs had been liberated from their bonds last night after Charles had finished playing with him, scrambled over and kneeled in front of the sovereign.
"Have you been lazing around in bed all morning?" he snarled.
"I-I…uh…I," Spencer stuttered, wishing he didn't have to answer that question.
"Enough," Charles roared, backhanding his slave almost knocking him off his knees. "You aren't here to enjoy yourself. I expect you to do work while I'm away."
"I-I'm s-sorry, sire," Reed whispered while internally wondering just what the monarch expected him to do while confined to the bedchamber.
"The word of a slave is worth less than the love of a whore. You do not get to apologize to me with your words – you must show me with your actions," the king decreed with an evil glint in his eyes.
"Yes, sire."
There was a heavy silence hanging in the air before Charles broke it by saying, "So, show me how sorry you are."
Spencer shifted uncomfortably on his knees and peered up at the king with his big brown orbs, "Yes, sire."
Charles thrusted his hips forward into the boy's face. "You know what to do," he leered, salivating over the innocent look in the boy's doe-like eyes.
The young man's nod was nearly imperceptible as he reached his delicate hand up and brought forth the monarch's organ from his undergarment. He then closed his eyes and started to work the piece of flesh with his plump pink lips.
Above him, the king flung his arms behind his head and enjoyed the sight. He shot his brother a lecherous grin and let out a little groan. "What-uh-what was that you were saying about negotiating?" he spat out in between moans.
Raphael rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "I think you should hold out on the trade he proposed."
Charles rolled his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into the boy's throat. "Uhg…faster boy! Faster," he ordered, grabbing Reed's short brown hair with his hand in order to force the kid swallow his whole muscle. It only took a few more seconds for the mighty monarch to reach his climax which he signaled with a powerful roar as he spilled his load down the slave's passage. He shoved the boy backwards and laughed, "Now that was what I call an apology."
Spencer sat panting on the floor, trying to keep the contents of his stomach housed inside his body. He wiped his face off with the back of his hand and realized that there were a few tears mixed in with the stray bits of semen. Shame coursed through his veins at the sight of the milky white fluid remnants on his skin and he vowed then and there to never tell Derek the gruesome details of his captivity.
Moments later Charles kicked him out of the way so his usher could finish dressing him. "So, you think that I shouldn't trade with Derek to get our soldiers back?" the sovereign asked his brother.
"No. What I'm saying is that you shouldn't give all of his citizens back all at once. Spread it out. Think of it as a safety precaution. Give him back the women and children first and keep the men till later," Raphael suggested.
"I like where your head is at, brother," the king chuckled. "That should keep that fucking child honest."
"Exactly."
Suddenly, Spencer felt a hand on the back of his neck, forcing him to look up at his owner.
"And you…I'm never giving you back," Charles smirked. "You're mine for the rest of your godforsaken life."
"Fucking hungry," Carl griped, kicking his foot out at the empty bowl in the middle of the cage. The toe of his shoe connected with the tin vessel and sent it careening into the head of one of his fellow captives. The man cried out in surprise at the sudden hit but decided not to confront the agitated knight. Instead, he went back to playing the game he and his fellow prisoners had made up using a couple of stones they found on the floor of their cage.
Ignoring the soldier's passive reaction, Carl continued to complain as he hunkered down in the corner of the cage he was being held in with six other men. The afternoon sun was high in the sky. Its rays beating down on the metal bars, causing them to burn any exposed skin that touched them. He closed his eyes to ward off the bright light but the thin layer of skin didn't help very much.
"If I can't eat the least you all could do is shut up so I can nap in peace," he groused at the men in the corner.
The soldiers immediately broke up their game, hoping to appease the grumpy knight. They had all spent too much time in captivity with Sir Buford and they knew what he was capable of when he was in a bad mood.
"Finally, silence" Carl sighed, relaxing his head back onto the bunched up shirt that he'd confiscated from one of his fellow prisoners.
Unfortunately, his tranquility didn't last long, for two of King Derek's guard-dog knights were making their rounds. Their voices were hushed as they gossiped but not low enough to avoid Buford's detection. As they got closer Carl cautiously peeked his eyes open to catch a glimpse of them; the knight on the right was quite tall while the other was of average height but had a larger build. When it looked like they were headed over to check the locks on his wagon, the imprisoned knight stilled his body and feigned sleep.
" – you serious?" he heard the shorter one ask.
"Absolutely," the tall knight said. "It was him. I may have been stationed at the other end of the hall but I couldn't miss those big brown eyes of his. Oh, and the way the King Derek couldn't stop watching him all night…I guarantee you it was King Spencer."
"Really? I-I just can't believe it. He's been down here being held as a slave for all these months? I thought King Charles had just taken him prisoner or something," the short one replied incredulously.
"I thought that too…but now all the secrecy makes sense. I'm betting that Charles doesn't even know what he has right under his nose…because if he did, he sure as hell would have killed him or held him for ransom," the tall man said.
"Yeah –"
Whatever else the men said was lost on Carl as they moved out of the area. Regardless of missing the latter part of the conversation the old knight knew that he had heard enough. He had all the information he needed to win the king's favor and get back in his good graces once again.