Title:	The Hart and the Lion (Chapters 40 - 59)
Author:	Cita Powers (© 2000-2002)
Author's Website:	none
Fandom:	Sports Night AU
Pairing:	Daniel el-Rydal / Casey Mackall
Rating:	NC-17 (m/m sex, violence)
Author's Disclaimer:	None. I'm like that.
Author's Notes:	This began as a little morsel to cheer up Em when she wasn't feeling well. I had no idea that it would take on a life if its own and actually develop a plot. <gasp> Thanks to Em and n for beta-reading, and pushing for more. Any errors and inconsistencies are, however, no reflection on them; I take full responsibility. Comments and criticisms are always welcome.

They kept to the low ground, hugging the walls of the wadis, as they made their way to the west. Dauid had given them the remainder of the bread and water, and Casey ate as they rode. Daniel had tried to nibble his bread, but his stomach churned after a few bites, and he stowed the loaf in his pack for later.

"Now we are looking for three stones that give the shape of a bird," Daniel said, gesturing toward the cliff on the right. "There is a narrow passage that will allow us to skirt the river and leave my father's lands..." He suddenly felt as if he were swallowing ground glass and turned away from Casey's sharp eyes.

How could this happen to him? What had he done to deserve this? Allah knew he was not perfect, that he had committed his share of sins and had his faults, but were the stains on his soul sufficiently black to warrant this devastation? Was everything to be taken from him? Who had spread the lies about him, sullying his honor and that of a woman he had once hoped to wed? Who had convinced his wife - his sweet child wife, whom he loved dearly - to leave him? Fire and ice alternated in him; first he blazed in anger, and then the bone-snapping chill of sorrow tightened his joints. His hands, clenching the reins, shook.

"Master?"

He blinked and wiped his hand over his damp face.

"You must not call me that," he said, scanning the cliffs for the landmark, despite his blurred vision. "I told you, you are free."

"You would have me believe that?"

It was as if he had been knifed in the belly. "Believe what you will," he replied harshly, "but it is the truth. As soon as I can find parchment and pen, I shall write out your manumission and you may go where you will."

"Then what shall I call you?" Casey's voice was calm.

"I do not care."

They continued on in silence for a quarter of an hour, and then Casey raised his hand.

"There."

He pointed toward the top of the cliff. Daniel shaded his eyes and looked up. There were the three rocks in the shape of a bird.

"Good. We will follow the passage through the cliffs, and it will bring us to a place near the edge of my father's lands."

Turning into the narrow wadi at the base of the cliff, they traveled single-file, Daniel leading the way. It was slow going as the horses picked their way among the loose stones that littered the floor. As they rounded a sharp bend, a rock from high up the cliff-face crashed to the ground in front of them, causing a small avalanche of stones to cascade after it. The sound reverberated around the narrow space, echoing strangely.

Zeina snorted and stepped back warily, bumping into Salimeh, who shied and whinnied. Daniel quickly reined in Zeina, and when he turned to help Casey, he was pleased to see that Salimeh was standing quietly with Casey bent over her, stroking her neck.

Casey looked up at him.

"That was close."

Daniel nodded. "Make as little noise as possible," he whispered, obeying his own dictate. "There are some places where the rocks are balanced so precariously that an afreet, disturbed by our noise, could send them down to crush us."

"An afreet?" Casey gave him a dubious look, but Daniel turned away and urged Zeina forward.

They continued for several hours, the passage warming as the sun rose higher, until it was overhead and beat down on them mercilessly. No breeze found its way to them, and the temperature rose rapidly. It was not long before Daniel held up his hand and they stopped.

"We will shelter here for a while," he whispered, pointing to a patch of shade under a small, jagged overhang.

After watering the horses, Casey spread out one of the blankets on the ground and they gratefully took shelter. Daniel opened the bag with their food and gave Casey an orange, taking another one for himself.

Casey looked up from peeling the orange. His cheeks were flushed and he was dusty and sweaty from their journey, but his eyes were bright and clear. When he popped the first segment into his mouth, he closed his eyes for a moment, and then grinned at Daniel.

"What are you so happy about?" Daniel muttered with a scowl.

"Happy?" Casey chuckled. "Why shouldn't I be happy? My Master has freed me, and I'm going to find my son..." He pulled another segment off and bit into it. A thin trickle of juice ran down his chin and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

His words felt like a body blow. Daniel bowed his head, unwilling to let Casey see his pain. He stared at the orange, its soft flesh heavy in his hand, its fragrance strong in the heat.

"Daniel?" He did not raise his head, but Casey's tentative tone made the corners of his mouth curl up involuntarily. A warm, sticky hand rested on his wrist.

He looked up.

"Your cousin will clear your name," Casey said, nodding once. "And when he does, he will send word and you will return to your father, vindicated and welcomed."

Daniel's eyes fell to the long fingers that caressed the back of his hand. Beloved fingers that he could no longer command, that were no longer his possession.

"And what of you?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly harsh. "Will you return with me?"

The fingers stilled and then withdrew. Daniel bit back a sob.

"I can make no promises until my son is with me," came the whisper.

Daniel nodded, trying not to clutch at hope like a starving man would clutch at food. He would have to be content that it was not an outright rejection.

He finished his orange, although it was difficult to swallow around the hard lump in his throat, and checked the angle of the sun. It had passed its zenith, and the floor of the wadi was again in shadow.

"We must continue," he said, rising and brushing the scraps of orange peel into a corner. "I want us to be well away from here by nightfall." They shared a quick drink of water and mounted the horses.

It was late afternoon - the shadows had almost completely filled the wadi - when they rounded a curve and saw the mouth of the passage open up to rolling hills ahead of them. Daniel's heart rose at the sight, and he turned back to Casey.

"We are almost through," he whispered, pointing to the opening. "It will not take us long to make our way through-"

A shout came from high above them, and Daniel's eyes moved up, up, up.

"Damn!"

Three figures on horseback stood at the edge of the cliff, a little ahead of them. Another shout rang out, and Daniel grasped the reins tightly.

"Quickly!" he yelled, urging Zeina forward.

Sure-footed and intelligent, his horse surged forward, covering the uneven ground at a faster pace than he thought possible. Daring a quick backward glance, Daniel was relieved to see Salimeh keeping pace, Casey clinging to her with a determined expression.

There were more shouts from above, and then a trickle of pebbles and small rocks down the wadi wall just ahead of them warned him of their intentions.

"Faster!" he shouted, and dug his heels into Zeina's sides, shielding his head from the small, but deadly, stones with an upraised arm.

The trickle turned into a stream, and then, just as he passed, he heard it - the ear-splitting crash of a large boulder hitting the rock walls. With a stifled cry he threw himself forward, riding low on Zeina's back, and they plunged ahead.

A sudden, sharp pain tore through his forearm, the one protecting his head, and he screamed in pain and frustration. So close, merciful Allah, they are so close...

His arm was numb and fell to his side, useless. The sounds of rocks falling slammed through the wadi, ringing in his ears, and he blinked hard and coughed. Dust enveloped him, stung his eyes and coated his lungs. He tried to wipe his face with the sleeve of his injured arm, but bit back a cry of pain as he tried to lift it. Instead, he roughly wiped his face on the other sleeve and tugged on Zeina's reins, gradually slowing her and then bringing her to a stop.

A cloud of dust filled the wadi, and he knew those above could not see him. He turned and peered into the murk. Where was Casey?

Fear clawed at him, sucked the moisture from his mouth and set his limbs to shaking.

Had Casey been caught in the rockfall?

Was he injured? Trapped?

Was he even alive?

Daniel coughed and wiped his streaming eyes with the back of the hand holding the reins. He urged a reluctant Zeina back into the cloud of dust, and narrowed his eyes against the flying grit.

"Casey?" He coughed again. "Casey?"

His eyes traveled over the broken ground before him, over the piles of stone that forced Zeina to carefully pick his way back into the wadi. He was looking for a shape, for two shapes, and murmured a prayer that he would not find them huddled beneath a boulder, dead or dying.

"Casey?"

Surely he had not traveled this far? He could see no landmarks in the murk, but Casey and Salimeh must be-

A dry cough from the dimness before him was suddenly the sweetest sound he had ever heard.

"Ma- Daniel?" came the harsh whisper.

"Yes. Are you injured?" Daniel bit his lip as he dismounted, jarring his arm and sending a bolt of raw pain coursing through his flesh.

"I... I don't think so."

Breathing a sigh of relief that turned into another cough, Daniel moved carefully forward. "I'm just ahead of you. Salimeh should be able to-"

"Salimeh is unable to move," said Casey, his voice sounding oddly flat.

"Damn," muttered Daniel, and he cursed again as he slipped on a mound of small pebbles.

In a moment he could see their shapes, dim in the dust. He reached out and stroked Salimeh's nose. She snorted and tossed her head, the whites of her eyes showing, but Casey murmured to her softly, and she calmed.

"Why can't Salimeh move?" Daniel asked as he circled her, his good hand caressing her neck and shoulder. He peered at Casey, who was covered in a thin film of umber grit, relieved that he did not seem to be bleeding or bruised. His hand moved to Casey's thigh, hard with tension, and he leaned forward, trying to make out the shapes behind Salimeh's flanks. A scree of rock filled the wadi, and the tailings had washed forward to bury Salimeh's legs to the knee.

"It's loose rock," he said quietly, "but if she's careful, she should be able to pull free without dislodging-"

"Look up."

He looked up and gasped.

They were standing in the narrowest part of the wadi - the walls barely more than an arm span apart. A sword's length above Casey's head a huge boulder was lodged, and against it was collected a rough arch of stone, one side propped against the wall of the wadi and the boulder, the other... His throat moved convulsively, but he did not have enough moisture in his mouth to swallow. The other side was balanced on the slowly shifting scree that had trapped Salimeh.

"If she moves," Casey murmured, "we cannot get clear in time."

His skin prickling with fear, Daniel quickly took stock. He moved back to Salimeh's head, and took firm hold of her bridle with his good hand.

"I will hold her steady," he said. "Dismount, and then-"

"No! She will not survive-"

"She might, if she doesn't have to carry your weight."

They glared at each other, and in the sudden silence came the sound of voices from above.

"Dammit, Casey, do as I say!" Daniel rasped. "We cannot linger. They will be down here in half an hour's time!

Casey opened his mouth, then closed it and nodded. "I won't leave her," he said, dismounting slowly, swinging himself clear of the scree.

"Unless we have no choice."

Casey moved beside him, looking up at the rocks and frowning. "It would be better if you go back to Zeina," he said absently. "There is no sense in two of us being in danger."

Salimeh shook her head nervously and loosened Daniel's grip on her bridle. He grasped it tightly and raised his other arm to stroke her nose, biting back a cry of pain. Damn! He had forgotten his arm.

"What is it? Are you injured?"

Casey's hand moved over Daniel's shoulders and down his arms, and Daniel almost screamed at the sudden burst of agony. Casey immediately pulled away.

"Your arm? Is it broken?"

"I don't know," gritted Daniel between clenched teeth. "I can't move it."

Casey lifted his chin and took a deep breath. "Go back to Zeina. You can't help me here." He paused and flashed a grim smile at Daniel. "I won't be a moment."

Daniel nodded, but he only retreated a few yards up the wadi. If Casey was injured trying to free Salimeh... He shook his head. He would not think that. Allah would not be so cruel...

The dust was beginning to settle, and he could dimly see Casey standing in front of Salimeh. He was murmuring to her in his strange tongue, the lilting sing-song of his voice strangely comforting. Slowly he stepped back, away from Salimeh, still speaking. She tossed her head and snorted, but did not move.

Casey held the reins in one hand, continuing to move until they were stretched out to their full length, his arm straight before him. He moved to the side of the wadi, stumbling on a loose rock, but recovering quickly.

Suddenly he shouted and jerked on the reins, and Salimeh responded. With a whinny, she lunged forward, kicking herself free of the scree and then, with no warning, the stones overhead crashed down.

Daniel flatted himself against the side of the wadi as Salimeh screamed and plunged down the passage, Casey struggling to grab her saddle and pull himself up. The ground was too rough for her to go far, and they stopped a few yards down the wadi, Salimeh wheezing and panting, and Casey clinging to her saddle, his eyes closed and his face streaked with sweat.

"Are you-" Daniel began.

"I'm fine," Casey interrupted with a cough.

"And Salimeh?"

Casey wiped his face and quickly looked her over.

"She was struck here," he said, pointing to a raw place on her flank. "Fortunately the saddlebags cushioned the blows. And she has bruising and cuts on her hind legs, but nothing is broken."

"Thank the Five," Daniel murmured. "Can you ride her?"

"If I must." Casey turned to him and frowned. "And what of your arm? Can you ride?"

"If I must," Daniel replied grimly. The sounds of pursuit were growing louder, and they did not have much time.

Casey looked at him assessingly for a moment, then nodded. "Go, then. I will be with you in a minute."

Moving as quickly as he could without jarring his arm, Daniel reached Zeina and tried to mount, biting back a cry of pain as he struggled to get into the saddle. He cursed and led Zeina over to a boulder, scrambling up and into the saddle that way. Taking the reins in his good hand, he urged her forward, stopping her only when they reached the end of the wadi.

He waited impatiently for Casey, scanning the clifftops and the surrounding hills for a sign of pursuit, breathing a sigh of relief when he found none. Their pursuers were still descending the cliff, and with luck, he and Casey might be well into the hills before they reached the ground.

There was a flicker of movement down the wadi, and he frowned when he saw Casey on foot, leading Salimeh.

"What's the matter?"

"Her back and flank are badly bruised, and she can't bear any weight," said Casey grimly.

Daniel cursed again. "Can she run, do you think?"

"Yes."

"Then tie her to the saddle. You'll have to ride with me." His voice was sharper than he had intended - pain and fear were wearing at him - but he simply moved back in the saddle, kicking one foot out of the stirrup so that Casey could mount.

Casey quickly attached the reins and then stood beside Zeina, looking up at Daniel.

"Come on," Daniel barked, leaning back.

"No. I'll sit behind you," Casey said. "Slide forward."

"What?" Daniel stared at Casey and felt his face flush. How could Casey suggest that he, Daniel el-Rydal, sit as a slave or woman would? "You will sit before me-"

"You only have the use of one arm," Casey pointed out, "and cannot hold on to me and the reins at the same time. Slide forward."

"As would a woman? How dare you-"

"Ilmarinen help us!" shouted Casey, gesturing toward the cliffs. "They will be here soon and you're arguing about sitting like a woman? You are injured! Slide forward, damn you!"

Setting his jaw stubbornly, Daniel's eyes locked on Casey's. They held for a moment, and then, slowly, Daniel's eyes fell. Casey was right. He would not be able to hold on.

He slid forward, balancing carefully as Casey quickly mounted, pressing close behind him. Daniel leaned forward, trying to maintain a little space between them, but Casey's arms curled around his waist and he pulled Daniel back against his warmth.

Clearing his suddenly dry throat, Daniel flicked the reins and urged Zeina forward to a trot, and they quickly crested the nearest hill, taking refuge from their pursuers in the shadows beyond.

With a start, Daniel jerked awake, wincing as he jarred his injured arm. Casey's arm tightened around him and he sighed. They were still moving, still staying ahead of any pursuers.

He rubbed his grit-filled eyes with his good hand and shifted on the saddle.

"How long did I sleep?" he said, reaching for their nearly empty watersack.

"An hour, maybe a little more," Casey replied quietly, his breath warm on Daniel's neck. Awkwardly holding the sack, Daniel took a small drink and offered it to Casey. "No, I'll be fine for a while longer."

Replacing the watersack, Daniel looked around. They had traveled hard the past two days, sleeping rough and moving on as soon as night's blackness had lifted, but they had seen no sign of pursuit since they left the lands of Yakob el-Rydal. Although el-Yafe and the women were probably headed north, they rode due west, toward a village where there was a healer. It was no use trying to follow their tracks until Daniel's injury had been treated.

Although he continued to occasionally glance behind them, Daniel ascribed the irritating tickle between his shoulderblades to pain and fatigue, and both of them had gradually relaxed their guard.

The hills were past, and now the sky seemed broader, the horizon farther. The scrub of the east was gradually replaced with the tough, hardy grass for which the west was famous. Although it was barely up to his knees now, Daniel had heard that the grasses in the far west grew taller than a man on horseback, thick forests that hid both predators and prey. There were tales in which more than one traveler had lost his way in that sea of grass, and years later, only his bones were found, gnawed and broken.

"We should reach the village before nightfall," Daniel said, shifting again, pulling away from Casey, canting his hips forward so that Casey's groin wasn't pressed quite so tightly against his ass.

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry again. Reaching for the watersack, he remembered their scant supply and pulled his hand back, pretending to scratch his thigh instead.

Casey chuckled. "With any luck, we will be able to bathe tonight." He sniffed loudly. "We both smell like donkeys."

"And buy a decent meal." As if on cue, Daniel's stomach rumbled.

"It doesn't even have to be decent," Casey said wistfully. "I'm so hungry that even your ear looks tempting." And he nosed aside the hem of Daniel's kaffia and nibbled on the lobe.

Daniel snorted. "If you're interested in putting something of mine in your mouth, I have a better idea than my ear."

"Oh, yes?" Casey abandoned his ear and nuzzled the side of his neck. "And what would that be?"

"You have three- Damn!" He pulled away, cradling his injured arm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's not your fault," Daniel said through gritted teeth. "I struck it as I was turning."

"Shall I bind it to your chest again?"

"No." Daniel breathed deeply, waiting for the pain and nausea to pass. It was a familiar process by this point. At least he wasn't hungry any more. "I can't balance with it strapped to my chest."

"I will find the healer tonight," Casey said decisively. "I'm still not convinced that it isn't broken."

"It's not broken, Casey." He slumped in the saddle, fatigue burrowing deep into his flesh. His bones ached, and he didn't care if he was plastered up against Casey's body. He just wanted the pain to stop so that he could rest.

Casey flicked the reins and pulled Daniel closer, his thighs cradling Daniel's hips, his arms surrounding Daniel's.

"Allah give me strength," muttered Daniel, and he let his eyes drift closed again.

The sounds of a child's laugh and a barking dog roused him, and he blinked owlishly as he looked around.

They were on the outskirts of a good-sized village, heading toward the center, and a group of young children had surrounded Zeina and Salimeh, running and skipping to keep up with the horses' steady pace. Shadows were long, and the sun was dipping toward the horizon.

He looked at the children, lifting his chin as he caught the eye of the oldest, a boy of perhaps eight.

"Where is there lodging for travelers?" he asked the boy.

"The widow Maleka and her son take in travelers," he answered, pointing to a large, whitewashed house ahead. "Just there."

Daniel nodded and fished out a copper from his belt, flipping it to the boy. "Allah protect you," he said as the boy caught the coin and ran off, followed by the others.

When they reached the courtyard before the house, Daniel leaned forward and allowed Casey to dismount first. Trial and error - and pain - had finally persuaded him to accept Casey's help as he slid from the saddle.

"By the Five," he panted, leaning against Zeina and waiting for the pain to pass. "Go and inquire if they have a room."

Casey shot him a sharp look, opened his mouth, then closed it with a nod. He disappeared into the open doorway, and Daniel could hear him calling for a room.

The pain passed relatively quickly, and Daniel turned and began to fumble with the straps and buckles of the saddlebags. He could not lift them off, but he could certainly unfasten them.

"Mas-- Daniel!" Casey's sharp tone startled him and he turned, scowling.

"What is it? Did you get us a room?"

"Yes," Casey replied impatiently. "Leave that and come inside. I have sent for the healer, and you should wash and eat before she arrives."

Setting his jaw, Daniel turned and finished undoing the fastenings before allowing Casey pull the saddlebag off and lead him into the building. The widow Maleka greeted him warmly, and showed them to a large, clean room, simply, but adequately, furnished. She lit two lamps and placed them in niches on the wall.

"I will send Kaseem with water and food for you and your servant, el-Rydal Effendi," she said, eying Daniel with interest. "And when the healer arrives, I will send her to you immediately."

"I'm not-" Casey began, but Daniel interrupted him.

"Casey is my... companion, not my servant."

The old woman grinned at them knowingly and shrugged. "For you and your companion, then."

Ears pink, Casey thanked her and lay the saddlebag on the small table in the corner. "Clean clothes," he stated, and began to burrow in the bag.

Daniel slumped into one of the rooms chairs - a chair, by the Five - and pulled off his kaffia and robe. He leaned forward, trying to toe off his boots.

"Companion?" Casey's voice sounded oddly hesitant.

Daniel kept his eyes on his boots. "Your coloring is too fair to be a cousin, and you carry the el-Rydal mark, so you cannot be high-born. It seemed the best term to use."

"Ah." Casey suddenly knelt before him and pulled off his boots. Daniel straightened and winced as a knock sounded on the door.

"Enter."

A young man came in, his arms full of thick towels, leading a servant who carried a large, steaming ewer.

"I am Kaseem," he said to Daniel with a bow. His eyes were large and liquid brown, and he smiled slowly, showing a glimpse of straight, white teeth. He ignored Casey completely. "I have brought water for you, Effendi, and towels." The servant placed the ewer beside a basin and disappeared out the door. Moving gracefully, Kaseem placed the towels beside the ewer and turned to Daniel, tilting his head a little to one side and clasping his hands together at his waist. "I will bring food shortly," he continued, his voice soft and suggestive. "If you require anything further..." He raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing, thank you," Casey said quickly, his color high. "My... Daniel has been injured, and we have sent for the healer. See that she is shown in immediately." He stepped up to Kaseem and took a step forward, Kaseem falling back. Step by step, Casey backed him to the door and out into the corridor. With a grim smile, he closed the door in Kaseem's face and turned back to the room.

Daniel stared at him, bewildered. Where was Casey? His Casey? Was there any trace of his fiery, yet pliant, slave in this confident stranger? He looked away before their eyes met. His arm ached, and there was a peculiar knot in the middle of his chest that weighed him down.

He began to unfasten his shirt one-handed, but his hand was quickly brushed aside. "Let me help you," Casey said, his fingers moving swiftly, pulling off Daniel's shirt.

Daniel allowed himself to be undressed and he stood on a towel as Casey washed him carefully and thoroughly, taking especial care with his injured arm. As Casey soaped his groin and inner thighs, Daniel wondered vaguely if Casey would continue their earlier conversation in a more practical way, but his impersonal gentleness continued as he dried Daniel and guided him into clean trousers and shirt.

He sat down and watched as Casey quickly stripped and washed himself. His eyes were drawn to the fading bruises on Casey's torso and thighs, a few new, livid ones from the rockfall decorating his back. His breath caught as Casey wiped his half-hard cock, and when Casey twisted to wash his ass, Daniel held out his hand and croaked, "Let me."

Their eyes met, but Daniel could not read Casey's thoughts in his steady gaze, although a faint flush colored Casey's chest and cheeks. With a quick nod, Casey handed him the damp cloth and turned, bending forward slightly.

Slowly, deliberately, Daniel rubbed the cloth over Casey's cheeks, dipping between his legs and up, deep in his cleft. Casey groaned and pushed back as Daniel rubbed the cloth against his hole, and suddenly Daniel's flesh was burning. He dropped the cloth and grabbed Casey's hip with his good hand, pulling him back a step to stand between his spread legs.

"Hold yourself open for me," he whispered harshly, and guided one of Casey's hands to his ass.

Casey groaned again and bent over further, his other hand coming around to grab his other ass cheek. Daniel took a deep, shuddering breath when Casey slowly pulled his ass open, exposing himself to Daniel's gaze.

"What was I thinking?" he muttered, licking a finger and running it down the crease to circle Casey's hole. "How could I ever give this up?"

Casey shivered and spread his legs wider. Moving his fingers lower, Daniel leaned forward and kissed the warm, smooth flesh, tonguing it gently. He let his teeth scrape along the curve of one cheek and chuckled to himself as Casey hissed and quivered at his touch.

So good.

Tongue and lips moved over and between, probing gently. Casey gasped and opened himself further. "Please, Master," he ground out breathlessly. "Please..."

Daniel fingered Casey's balls, rolling them tenderly as he continued to tease Casey with his tongue. Casey's thighs were shaking now, and he was muttering "please, please," over and over.

A flicker and jab with his tongue caused Casey to cry out, and Daniel moved faster, faster...

The knock on the door seemed very loud.

With a strangled yelp, Casey straightened and dashed toward the pile of towels. Daniel sat up and brought his legs together, then turned toward the door.

It was open. Kaseem stood in the doorway, holding an earthenware jug, his face dark, his eyes glittering. Behind him, the servant held a tray, piled high with food.

Daniel turned toward Casey, who was pulling on a clean pair of trousers, his back to the door. On his ass, two red handprints stood out like beacons. The sight made Daniel's mouth water, but he calmly faced Kaseem again and nodded toward the table.

"Place our food there," he said, ignoring the heat in his own face.

Kaseem stiffly obeyed, his eyes continually darting to where Casey was dressing. When the servant had laid out the dishes and left, he poured wine from the jug into a cup and handed it to Daniel with a bow.

"Our best wine, Effendi," he murmured, his lashes fluttering coyly.

"Thank you." Daniel took the wine, ignoring the way Kaseem's fingers touched his own, and surveyed the dishes on the table. "It looks delicious." He paused, but Kaseem did not move toward the door. "Thank you. We will serve ourselves," he said firmly, catching and holding Kaessem's gaze until he backed out the door and closed it behind him. Then he took a deep breath and let it out with a chuckle.

"Come and eat, Casey."

"Yes, Ma-- Daniel." His lips were pressed together and his voice was chilly as he walked to the table and sat down.

Daniel rubbed his eyes and sighed. What now? Casey certainly had seemed to enjoy his attentions earlier. What had changed?

He shrugged off his questions and began to eat, and after a moment of frozen disapproval, Casey fell to as well. The food was good. Plain fare, but well seasoned and with good ingredients. They ate in silence until Daniel groaned and leaned back in his chair, wiping his lips.

"Food and shelter," he said, his eyelids heavy and his stomach full to bursting. "Allah has been kind." He glanced over at Casey, licking his fingers, his lips glistening. Ah, by the Five, another need would be met tonight...

Casey rose and walked to the window. "I will see that the horses are care for," he said quietly.

Daniel blinked and sat up in his chair. "That is not necessary."

"Then..." Casey hesitated. "Then I should inquire about the healer."

Daniel narrowed his eyes and frowned. "Casey, what has happened? Why are you upset?"

"Upset?" He laughed unconvincingly. "Why would I be upset?"

"I don't know. Why would you?"

Casey turned and met his eyes, his gaze challenging, but he remained silent.

"Is it," Daniel finally ventured, "because we were... interrupted?"

Casey remained silent, his eyes glittering.

Daniel thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Then I do not know."

Casey held his gaze a moment longer, then tore his eyes away and stalked across the room. "You," he began, then clasped his arms over his chest, "you laughed."

"I what?"

"You laughed." The words dropped like pebbles into a still pool.

Daniel thought back. Kaseem had entered, and he had ignored his embarrassment at the interruption and stayed calm. Kaseem had then tried to engage his attention, and he had dismissed him, with some difficulty. Then...

Daniel took a deep breath. Of course.

"I was not laughing at you," he said quietly. "Believe me, Casey, I am not capable of laughing at you. Not when you... affect me so." Casey looked at him, tilting his head. "But I was laughing at the situation." Daniel smiled and gestured with his good hand. "We have been alone for, how many, two days? And yet the first time we are intimate, we are interrupted. You must admit, it is... ironic."

Casey held his gaze, expressionless, for a moment longer. Daniel could tell the exact instant when his explanation was accepted, and the tension in his shoulders and neck trickled away.

"You are speaking the truth?" Casey's voice trembled.

"Yes."

A pause, then Casey turned away, bowing his head. "Good. For I do not know if I could have borne it otherwise."

"Come here," Daniel said gently. It was a request, not an order.

Casey remained where he stood, head bowed, for a dozen heartbeats. Then he slowly turned and crossed the room to where Daniel sat, his eyes downcast.

"I would never mock our relationship," Daniel continued, pleased and comforted by Casey's obedience. He lifted his good hand and rested it in the middle of Casey's chest. "Believe this, for it is as true as the words of Allah."

Casey's mouth twisted, but he remained silent.

"Do you believe me?" Daniel asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Do you?"

Casey's throat worked as he swallowed, and he raised his eyes to meet Daniel's. Questions, uncertainty, pain... all were obvious in Casey's eyes. Daniel spread his hand wide, feeling Casey's heartbeat beneath his fingers.

"Do you?"

Casey closed his eyes and said bitterly, "I don't know what to believe."

The words felt like a blow, but before Daniel could speak, there was a knock at the door.

Casey started and took a step back, and Daniel let his hand drop before answering.

"Come."

Kaseem and the servant entered. The servant carried another ewer of water.

"The healer has arrived," Kaseem said to Daniel, as the servant set down the ewer and collected the dishes. "Shall I send her in?"

"Yes."

With a bow and a sidelong glance at Casey, Kaseem left, returning in a moment escorting a small, robed figure. With another bow, he stepped out into the corridor, pulling the door closed behind him.

"You are injured?" came the soft voice from beneath the hood.

"Yes. A blow from a falling rock." Daniel carefully pushed back his sleeve to bare his swollen arm.

Two hands gently lifted his arm. "This is not recent."

"Three days ago."

The hands released him, and she pushed back her hood. Gray hair was pulled back from an angular, lined face and fell in a long braid over her shoulder. The healer turned bright eyes to Casey. "You have helped tend his wound?"

"Yes." Casey stepped forward. "Is it broken?"

She untied a small bag from her belt and opened it, extracting a dried leaf. "No, I don't think so, but your master is in pain. Steep this in a small amount of boiling water."

Before Casey could open his mouth, Daniel looked at her. "Casey is my companion, not my servant. Do not treat him as such."

She inclined her head toward Casey. "My apologies. Please call the servant-"

"No, I will do it." Holding the leaf carefully, he walked out of the room.

The healer removed a small vial from the bag and lifted Daniel's arm, pouring a few oily drops onto the place of greatest bruising. With gentle fingers she smoothed the oil into his skin, and he hissed in pain at even the slight pressure.

"Not broken," she murmured, examining the swollen, purple flesh, "but badly bruised. The infusion will help with the pain, and I can hasten the healing, but you will not have full use of your arm for a week."

"A week?" Daniel grimaced. "But we must continue our journey in the morning."

She frowned, and her fingers moved again over his arm. There was no pain, however, and he relaxed in his chair. "You could continue, with assistance, but the movement will not help it to heal. I recommend that you stay for at least another day, so that I can treat it again."

"An excellent idea."

Daniel looked up, startled, as Casey walked in, carrying a small earthenware cup.

"We cannot afford to stay," Daniel began, taking the cup from Casey, and giving him a meaningful look. "We have business that cannot be postponed."

"We will make better time once you have received treatment," Casey said quietly, standing beside the healer and watching her fingers move slowly and steadily over Daniel's arm. "How often should I do this?"

"Our business-" Daniel said loudly.

"Will wait another day," Casey interrupted. "Please, Daniel. I must learn how to treat your injury."

Daniel glared at him, but remained silent. The healer - damn her - was right. They would not travel far until he was healed enough to ride on his own.

She glanced at Daniel, and then at Casey, her hand never stilling, and her lips curved into a ghost of a smile. "Twice a day, morning and night. I will leave you the oil."

"And for the pain?"

"I will bring him an infusion in the morning and again tomorrow evening. After that, he will not need it."

"Good." Casey nodded. When Daniel had drained the cup, he took it and placed it on the table.

"You will do well," she said at last, wiping her fingers on a scrap of cloth and handing the small vial to Casey. "Rest, tonight. The tea will help you to sleep, and I will check on you in the morning." She turned to Casey. "And use some of the oil on your bruises, as well. They will heal faster."

He blinked, startled, but before he could open his mouth, she pulled the hood over her head and slipped out the door.

After a moment, he shook his head, bewildered, and shot a wary look at Daniel.

"How are you feeling?"

Daniel lifted his arm, flexing his fingers tentatively. "Better," he said, stifling a sudden yawn, relieved that there was nothing more than a dull ache now. "Much better."

Casey looked at him judiciously. "You should try to sleep."

Daniel narrowed his eyes and tilted back his head. The memory of their earlier activity flooded him, and his belly tightened. "Later." He reached out his good hand and raised an eyebrow. "First..."

Chuckling, Casey walked up to him, arms folded across his chest, hips canted forward. The corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes...

Daniel drew a shaky breath. By the Five, the warmth in those eyes...

"Lock the door."

Slamming the bolt home, Casey turned to him, looking... dangerous in the lamplight. Daniel's mouth was suddenly parched, and he swallowed convulsively.

"Take off your clothes." His voice was hoarse, and it was difficult to draw breath.

Casey met his gaze, eyes bright, and then he slowly unfastened his shirt, dropping it to the floor behind him. His trousers were next, and he let them puddle at his feet, carefully stepping out of the bunched material.

Daniel stood, locking his shaky knees, and held out his hand. With a lopsided smile, Casey twined their fingers together and followed him to the low bed in the corner.

Without a word, he unfastened Daniel's shirt and trousers, letting his palms smooth down the skin as he stripped them off. Daniel shivered at the caresses, light and quick. His knees gave way when Casey brushed a kiss over the head of his cock, and he lay back, sliding up so that he could swing his legs onto the bed.

Raising his hand, he drew Casey to him, flesh smoothing over flesh, and opened his mouth to Casey's kiss. He kept it slow and light, backing off when Casey would deepen it, until, with a growl, Casey held his head in his hands and leaned in.

Good. So damn good.

They parted with a groan, and Daniel moved his hips experimentally. Casey was straddling his hips, and his hardening cock nestled between Casey's cheeks. Eyes widening, Casey shuddered as Daniel rubbed his cock against him.

"Please," Casey whispered. "I need..." His face flushed, but there was desperation in his gaze.

Daniel nodded, his cock twitching at the thought of being buried in Casey. It had been so long.

"Get the ointment," he murmured, running his fingertips down Casey's chest and belly, wrapping them around his cock and giving it a quick caress.

With another groan, Casey slid off him and padding across the room, digging in the saddlebag. Grinning triumphantly, he returned with the tiny jar.

"How?" he asked, looking down at Daniel, eyes soft.

"Like you were."

Casey took a quick breath and his cock jerked. He handed the jar to Daniel and slipped over him again, leaning forward with his hands planted on either side of Daniel's face.

Daniel's fingers lightly traced his lips, his straight nose, his high cheekbones, and then moved to the nape of his neck. A few tugs, and the thong that held Casey's hair back was loosened, and it fell around his face in a heavy, sunbleached curtain.

"Kiss me," Daniel whispered, fumbling the jar open one-handed.

Casey's mouth descended on his in a sweet, hard kiss. After a few minutes, he reached around and rubbed his slick finger over Casey's hole, swallowing Casey's groans with a smile.

He let his fingertip slide just inside, and then grunted in surprise when Casey rocked back, taking it in to the knuckle. Oh... Daniel pulled away from Casey's mouth and sucked in a lungful of air, willing his enthusiastic cock to calm.

"Please," Casey whispered, rocking back again, his hips tilting. Daniel's finger slid in further.

Gritting his teeth, Daniel pumped his finger in and out slowly, while Casey shivered and groaned above him. With a whimper, Casey rocked forward, and Daniel slid out his finger.

"Now, now, now," chanted Casey under his breath, and Daniel positioned the tip of his cock against Casey's hole. Panting softly, Casey sat back, slowly, slowly, and Daniel bit his lip to keep from crying out. It was bliss, it was heaven, and Casey was all in all...

They moved together unhurriedly, savoring the pressure, the heat, the connection. Casey tilted back his head and smiled, then sat up, resting his hands on his sweaty thighs and driving Daniel in deep, deeper than ever before.

With a gasp, Daniel wrapped his good hand around Casey's glistening cock and pumped him slowly, allowing Casey to set the pace. Maintaining the same leisurely roll of his hips, Casey opened his eyes and looked at Daniel. A sweet smile lit his face, and he sat back hard and then pushed forward into Daniel's tight grip.

"Master..." he said, and Daniel could feel Casey's cock jump and pulse in his hand, warmth splattering his chest from Casey's orgasm. Groaning, Daniel thrust his hips deeper and held them there, pinning Casey on his hard cock, as he released himself deep inside Casey.

"Master," Casey whispered again as he leaned forward, blanketing Daniel, his hair caressing Daniel's neck and cheek. Still buried inside him, Daniel wrapped his good arm around Casey's back and held him close, whispering words torn from his heart.

"Daniel?"

He shifted, groaning, and forced his heavy eyelids open. Casey leaned over him, his mouth curving in a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry to wake you," he said, slipping his hand beneath Daniel's head, "but the healer sent your infusion, and you should drink it right away." He held the cup to Daniel's lips.

Obediently, Daniel sipped the pungent infusion. He had slept well, curled around Casey, relatively pain-free, but the stresses of the past few days had taken their toll. He felt as weak as a newborn kit, and when he had finished, lay back on the cushions, grateful that he would not have to rise immediately.

There was a knock on the door, and his eyes followed Casey as he crossed the room, lingering on the long neck, strong and proud, yet achingly vulnerable. Daniel licked his lips, remembering the taste and texture...

The clatter of crockery drew his gaze back to the door.

"I will serve him," Casey said sharply, struggling to pull the tray from the dark-eyed youth who had brought their food yesterday. What was his name? Kaseem?

"It is my duty to-" Kaseem began, trying to push Casey into the room and take the tray from him at the same time. The tray tipped dangerously as they struggled.

Daniel pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile. This was ridiculous.

"Casey," he said softly, "come sit with me and let the boy serve." He patted the bed beside him and smiled at Casey.

With a snort, Casey released the tray and stepped back, gesturing for Kaseem to enter. Eyes flashing, Kaseem lifted his chin and strode across the room, setting down the tray with a thump.

Casey sat on the bed beside Daniel, who rested his hand in the small of Casey's back and rubbed gently, enjoying the warmth. In contented silence, they watched the young man set out the food and drink on the table.

"What may I bring you, Effendi?" Kaseem asked Daniel with a bow, his hand gracefully sweeping over the selection of dishes on the table. "Bread and honey? Yogurt? Coffee? Dates?"

Daniel smiled at him, eyeing the food on the table. "Coffee," he replied, "and bread and yogurt." Kaseem's white teeth gleamed as he returned Daniel's smile.

As Kaseem busied himself with preparing Daniel's plate, Casey helped him sit up, comfortably propped on a mound of pillows.

With a nod, Daniel accepted the cup and plate Kaseem held out to him. "This looks delicious." The young man's face darkened and the corners of his mouth lifted. "Prepare another dish for my... companion," Daniel continued, "and then I shall need parchment, and a pen and ink." Kaseem's smile disappeared, and he opened his mouth to speak. Daniel waved a hand peremptorily. "Quickly."

Casey turned to him, his brows drawn together. "Will you write to your father?"

"No." The word sent an ache through his chest, and Daniel took a sip of his coffee before continuing briskly. "No. I want to write out your manumission, so there will be no doubt about your status." His voice was calm. Steady. He was strong. He was an el-Rydal. He could do this, as long as he did not think about it. About the possibility of giving up Casey. He swallowed hard, his stomach churning.

"Oh." Casey's face flushed and he brushed back the thick strands of hair that had fallen into his face. His hand shook.

Moving stiffly, Kaseem brought a plate to Casey, almost dumping it in his lap. Roused from his reverie, Casey grabbed the plate and cup with a muttered oath and glared at the youth. Kaseem opened his brown eyes very wide and looked beseechingly at Daniel.

"The parchment," Daniel said firmly. "We will manage on our own."

Bowing low, Kaseem slowly backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving Daniel.

As soon as he was gone, Daniel turned to Casey. "This afternoon we will purchase the supplies we need, so that we may leave at first light tomorrow."

Shaking his head, Casey dipped his bread into the honey and took a bite. "I shall purchase the supplies, Daniel." His voice was firm. "You will remain in bed and rest."

"I will be perfectly well by this afternoon," Daniel replied, shifting in the bed. He hissed in pain as he tried to use his right arm, and ignored Casey's concerned look. He could not eat; the food tasted like ashes in his mouth. "I am finished. You may take my plate."

Casey frowned at him, but he obediently removed the plate from Daniel's lap and then finished his own breakfast in silence. Daniel leaned back against the pillows and watched him, shifting his leg so that it pressed against Casey's hip - a warm connection that comforted him.

Casey was stacking the plates on the tray when Kaseem returned, carrying the items Daniel had requested.

"Ah, good. Place them on the table and take away the tray," Daniel ordered.

Kaseem took the tray, pausing. "May I be of further service, Effendi?" he said softly, his eyes flickering over Daniel, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Waving a hand dismissively, Daniel threw back the blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Perhaps later."

"That will be all." Casey's voice was curt, and he turned to Daniel with a frown. "What are you doing? You should stay in bed."

"Don't be absurd." Daniel rested on the edge of the bed for a moment. "I cannot write in the bed." He rose slowly, favoring his injured arm, and Casey quickly moved to his side to steady him. He sat down heavily in the chair, unwilling to admit just how much the few steps had tired him.

Daniel stared at the blank parchment and wondered why it was suddenly so difficult to draw breath. His chest ached, and a cold point deep beneath his breastbone blossomed unexpectedly, sending icy ripples shuddering through his chest and gut.

A warm hand lighted on his shoulder, and he started.

"Master?"

He looked up. Casey's face blurred; Daniel blinked hard and passed a shaky hand over his eyes. How could he do this? It was like cutting off one of his limbs.

"Daniel?"

The hand slid down his arm to his elbow, then traveled the same route again. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He must do this. He had promised, and an el-Rydal would not renege on his promise.

"I am well," he replied, opening his eyes and meeting Casey's worried gaze. "Just a little tired."

"This can wait-"

"No." Daniel set his jaw and reached for the pen. "No, it can't." He bit back a hiss of pain as he grasped the pen, nerves screaming, feeling as if the flesh was being stripped from the bones. His face grew chill and clammy as he forced his hand to move. He was cold, so cold, and his pulse throbbed in his ears. Casey spoke, his voice sounding distant, thin, as if there wasn't air enough to carry the words...

"Don't move."

He didn't. He was laying back on something soft, and fingers were stroking his cheek, jaw, across his lips. He opened his mouth and sighed. "Casey?"

"You fainted." The tone was brusque, the words clipped.

Opening his eyes, Daniel was surprised to see the healer standing beside Casey, her face stern. He flushed and shifted in the bed.

"It was not necessary to send for-"

"Yes, it was." Her voice was firm, and brooked no argument. "You cannot use your arm for the next several days. Do not attempt to do so again, or you will court another fainting fit."

"But I must-" he began, gesturing toward the table where the parchment lay.

She silenced him with a look. "Then hire a scribe." Nodding to Casey, she took the cup he handed her and held it to Daniel's lips. "Drink. It will ease the pain and allow you to rest."

He drank.

Warmth spread through him, weighing down his head and limbs. He watched as she spoke to Casey, serious and low-voiced, and as he walked her to the door. A dark face peered around the jamb, eyes glittering, then disappeared. His eyes fluttered shut.

Some time later, a voice spoke in barely understood murmurs. The words drifted through his mind, like early-morning wisps of fog in a wadi, insubstantial and tenuous.

"Daniel, I am going to the market to purchase our supplies. I have taken some money. I will return soon."

The phrases echoed faintly and he frowned. No, you cannot... He opened his mouth to warn, to call back.

Why? He could no longer remember what had been said.

He closed his mouth and sank back into sleep.

He rose from sleep like a bird taking wing, smoothly, effortlessly. He felt... good. Rested. Almost energetic. The lancing pain in his arm had subsided into a dull ache, entirely tolerable.

A soft sound came from the other end of the room, the brush of cloth against cloth.

Too comfortable to move, Daniel smiled. "Casey?"

A shadow flitted across the whitewashed ceiling. "How may I serve you, Effendi?" Kaseem displayed his strong white teeth in an answering smile.

Surprised, Daniel raised his head. "Where is Casey?" He peered around the room.

"Do not worry about him," murmured Kaseem, bending low over Daniel. "He said he must go to the market. In the meantime, you must rest." His long-fingered hand rested on Daniel's forehead, and pressed him gently back against the pillows. "Rest," he continued, his fingers stroking down Daniel's cheek. "I can make you happy while you rest, Effendi. Very, very happy."

"I'm sure you could, Kaseem." Daniel's voice was soft, but he gripped Kaseem's wrist firmly and pulled his hand away. "But at the moment, I am very happy with Casey."

Kaseem's face darkened and he raised his chin. "And what does he know about making a man like you happy?" He looked at Daniel's fingers, wrapped tightly around his wrist, and his lids fluttered. "I know many ways to satisfy you, many ways to stir your blood." His voice was husky, and he sat on the side of the bed, leaning over Daniel.

"I am not interested," Daniel said brusquely, releasing Kaseem's wrist. "It is time for you to leave me and attend to your other duties."

"Ah, but none of my other duties is as pleasant as this," he responded, placing his hand on Daniel's chest and sliding it down, down...

"Stop that!" Daniel struck his hand aside and struggled to sit up.

"You would not regret it." Kaseem licked his lips blatantly, his body pressing heavily on Daniel's hips, preventing him from moving much. "Serving you would be a pleasure."

Daniel took a deep breath, trying to control his irritation. Kaseem's attentions, while unwanted, could be considered flattering, after all. And he certainly was attractive enough, with his thick, dark eyelashes and soft mouth...

His cock twitched, and Kaseem smiled broadly, his eyes heavy lidded. "Yes," he crooned, ghosting his fingers over the blanket covering Daniel's groin. "You know it will be good, Effendi."

"No!" Daniel shook his head, but his cock jerked and began to fill. He pushed ineffectually at Kaseem's shoulder.

Dropping a kiss onto the cloth-covered mound, Kaseem shifted around, pinning Daniel's legs. His hands pressed and stroked, coaxing another surge in Daniel's cock. "What is your desire, Effendi? Would you like to fill my mouth? Or my ass?" He wriggled sinuously.

"Kaseem," Daniel panted, torn between arousal and anger, "don't-"

"Don't what? This?" Kaseem breathed hotly over Daniel's groin. "Or this?" In one quick movement, he sat up and, pulling down the blanket to Daniel's knees, straddled Daniel's thighs. Kaseem caressed Daniel's cock through the thin cotton of his shirt. "Do you like it tight and hot?" he purred, his face flushed, a sheen of sweat on his upper lip. "You could take me dry. Force your way inside me, open me wide with your cock." His eyes closed and he leaned forward, his face less than a handspan from Daniel's. He opened his mouth and breathed, "Do it, Master."

"Damn you!" With a heave of his body, Daniel tossed Kaseem off the bed, and sat, glaring at him as he lay in a heap on the floor. "Leave me," he ordered, his voice harsh. "Send a servant to the market to find Casey. I want him."

Kaseem twisted around, facing Daniel, his upper lip raised in a snarl. "Do not bother to want him, Effendi. He is foreign, a slave. He will be dealt with."

"What do you mean?" Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood.

With a defiant lift of his chin, Kaseem spread his legs and shifted his hips in a blatant invitation. "Forget him. I am everything you need, Master."

The room darkened for a moment. "Do not call me that," Daniel spat, anger ripping through him. "Where is he?" His voice rose. "Where is Casey?"

Kaseem's eyes glittered. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue slowly over his lips, leaving them wet and red, but he did not speak.

Daniel's fingers clenched, and he raised his hand and narrowed his eyes. "You will tell me, boy, else-"

There was an abrupt knock on the door, and it was flung open. The healer stood in the doorway, her hood pushed back, her gray braid coming loose. Behind her stood a woman, whose dark eyes and full lips echoed those of the man sprawled on the floor. Maleka, the owner of the house. Her plump hand pawed at the healer's arm and was shrugged off impatiently.

"You are awake," the healer gasped. "Good." She did not spare a glance toward Kaseem, but held out her hand to Daniel. "Your companion..." She panted and waved her hand before her face.

"Casey?" Daniel started forward, but Kaseem clasped his ankle, bringing him up short. "What has happened?" He spun around and, flexing his toes, drove the ball of his foot hard into Kaseem's belly. With a cry, Kaseem released him.

"The guards..." The healer pushed away Maleka's bothersome hand again and looked coldly at Kaseem. "The guards were told he is a runaway, and took him at the marketplace."

"By the Five, no," Daniel breathed. "A runaway..." All the warmth in his body suddenly congealed into a frigid, brittle mass lodged in his gut. A runaway... He shivered. "Have they..." He could not finish the question. His voice simply would not work.

"Not yet." The healer dashed across the room and grabbed Daniel's trousers, flinging them at him. "You must dress quickly and stop them. I cannot speak of what I have witnessed as a healer; you are the only person who can attest to the truth."

Daniel struggled into his trousers and sat on the side of the bed. The healer helped him slip on his boots, turning to a motionless Kaseem as she worked.

"Take their saddlebags and saddle their horses," she ordered. "Quickly!" Kaseem just stared at her, and Maleka stood by the door, moaning. The healer raised her hand, palm out, at Kaseem. "If you do not do as I say instantly, I shall wither your genitals and blight your beauty. Your little games have gone on long enough, and a man's life may be forfeit."

Daniel closed his eyes. No, not Casey, not now. When he opened them, Kaseem, and the saddlebags, were gone.

"We must go now." The healer offered a hand to Daniel, and he was too distraught to refuse it. Pain sliced through his arm as they pelted down the corridor to the stables, but he ignored it. What was a little physical pain compared to the possibility of losing Casey? His stomach lurched at the thought and he stumbled, slamming hard into the plaster wall. With an oath, he pushed off and continued.

Damn Kaseem.

The horses were ready when they dashed into the stable. It was a struggle to mount Zeina, but he finally sat upright in the saddle and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The healer was already urging Salimeh out the door, and Daniel flicked the reins and followed her.

They broke into a gallop as they left the yard. Daniel prayed that they would be in time.

They did not slow as they traversed the winding streets; startled passersby ran for shelter, flinging curses and screams at their backs.

The guardhouse was at the edge of the village, a squat, utilitarian structure made hideous by the gibbet and whipping frame displayed prominently in front of the building. Daniel loosed a strangled cry of relief; Casey's body was not dangling from the gibbet, nor was he trussed, naked and bleeding, to the frame.

But there were other punishments possible for a runaway slave.

Heart pounding so loud that it threatened to drown the muffled thud of the horses' tread, Daniel reined in Zeina before the door. The healer was already alight, and she steadied Daniel as he slid to the ground, his knees watery with fear and exertion.

"Quickly," he gasped, stumbling toward the door.

He flung open the door, ruthlessly trampling the memories of another door he had opened, and of how he had discovered Casey. The room was dim to his light-dazzled eyes, and he blinked and squinted into the gloom.

A small table with three empty cups and three stools stood by the door. A fire burned brightly in the far corner, and a dark shape passed in front of it. Two men stood before a large table, their backs to Daniel. On the table...

The back of his throat flooded with bile, and his entire body shook.

"I am Daniel el-Rydal," he bellowed, making the men standing at the table start and turn. He locked his knees and stiffened his spine. The son of Yakob el-Rydal knew how to command men. "What are you doing to a member of my household?" His voice had dropped, and there was a steely edge to it that made one of the men step back.

The man closest to the fire glanced at the other two, then stepped forward. He was holding a short, curved sword. The wicked blade flashed in the light, and Daniel looked pointedly at it. The man quickly set it aside.

"I am Sergeant Farouk," he said, saluting smartly. "This slave is a runaway, Effendi, and we-"

"He is no runaway." Daniel glared at Farouk and then looked at the still form stretched out on the table. His stomach turned, but he kept his voice level. "He is my valued companion. The information you were given is false."

His eyes quickly ran over Casey's body as his hand gently rested on one bound foot. There were bruises on his torso, and a few small cuts, but otherwise he appeared unharmed. The bindings on his wrists and ankles were tight, however, and a gag covered half his face.

"But Effendi, he has a slave brand and no papers," began the Sergeant.

"He has no papers because we have been traveling, and I have not had access to a scribe." Daniel's tone was curt. "He was only recently freed."

Taking a deep breath, his fingertips trailing up calf and thigh, across sharp hipbones and along vulnerable ribs, Daniel moved until he could see Casey's eyes. One was blackened and swollen, but the other one met his steadily. A small glint of moisture broke free from the corner of Casey's eye and trailed slowly down his temple.

"Untie him," Daniel rasped, his trembling fingers working on the coarse cloth that covered Casey's mouth. He tugged it over Casey's head, and then pulled the filthy, wadded cloth from his mouth, holding his head gently as Casey retched and shuddered. "It is fortunate for you that his hands and feet are still attached to his body," Daniel continued, as the men quickly freed the bonds. "Else I would have performed the same punishment on each of you."

"Fetch me water and return his clothing." Daniel was surprised to hear the healer's peremptory voice. He had completely forgotten she was there. "Gather together the possessions he had when you took him, including the money, and stow them on the Effendi's horses. And then you can wait outside until el-Rydal Effendi decides what to do with you."

She appeared next to him, her gentle hands urging Casey to his side. When one of the men handed her a basin of water, she scooped out a cup and helped Casey take a few sips. "Hold him," she said softly, waiting until Daniel had wrapped his arm around Casey's shoulders before running her hands over his arms, back, torso and legs.

"What did they do, Casey?" Daniel whispered, dropping a light kiss on his forehead. "Did they- Were you-"

"No," Casey murmured. "Not yet. They were going to-" He stopped and trembled. Daniel's arms tightened. "To cut off my foot, first. Then take turns with me, and decide whether or not to take my hand, as well."

"Ah, Casey..." Daniel's voice broke, and he buried his face in Casey's shoulder for a moment.

"Effendi?" The healer stood beside him again.

"Yes?" Daniel raised his face. "Can he be moved?"

"He is not seriously injured." She handed Casey's shirt to Daniel, and began to guide Casey's feet into his trousers. "They will fade in a few days. I..." She frowned and turned away. "It would not be safe for you to return to Maleka's house, however. If you will permit, we will go to my home."

Daniel stared at her, dumbfounded. An invitation to enter the home of a healer? It was unheard of.

"You wish us to..." He could not continue.

"Yes." She turned back to him, but would not meet his eyes. "It would be for the best."

He helped Casey off the table, steadying him with his good arm. "Very well," he said slowly. "We are honored to accept your gracious invitation."

She snorted. "Gracious? Never that, Effendi. But even the solitude of a healer must be broken in the event of necessity." Stooping, she helped Casey slip his feet into his boots, then stood, dusting off her hands. "Come. You must rest before you resume your journey tomorrow."

The Sergeant and his men were waiting beside their horses. Their faces were pale, but Farouk did not flinch as Daniel faced him.

"The false information you were given came from young Kaseem, in the house of Maleka." Daniel's arm ached, and he wanted nothing more than to leave immediately, but he had to finish this. "He is a foolish, vicious youth, who deserves to have his nostrils slit and his lips cut off for his actions." Ignoring Casey's gasp, he continued. "However, the healer assures me that my companion was not seriously injured. Therefore, ten lashes in the public square will suffice. See to it, Sergeant, and there will be no punishment for you or your men."

His shoulders sagging in relief, the Sergeant straightened again. "It will be as you say, Effendi."

"And Sergeant." Daniel stepped closer and lowered his voice. The man shot him an apprehensive look. "Do not be so quick to believe, in future. Especially when the source is tainted."

"Thank you, Effendi." The Sergeant saluted, then nodded to his men, and they entered the guardhouse.

"Come," said the healer. She insisted that Casey and Daniel ride, while she walked beside them.

Daniel never wanted to see that village again.

She led them through the outlying fields to a small, neat mudbrick house nestled in the shelter of a low cliff. The house was surrounded by a fragrant garden of herbs and vegetables, and a small stream ran between the house and the cliff.

They fed and watered the horses, tethering them in the shade of the house. Daniel kept looking at Casey, and then looking away. His skin itched and his eyes burned.

The healer stood before the door, her hand on the latch, as they waited behind her. Casey had refused Daniel's support, but his face grew pale as they waited.

"We can stay outside," Daniel said softly. "There is no need for us to violate the sanctity of your home."

She shot him a look over her shoulder and shook her head. "No. I am being foolish. Please." And she opened the door.

The house was as neat inside as it was outside. A small bed stood in the corner, and a single chair and table were placed before the banked hearth. In a short space of time, Casey was sitting on the bed and Daniel on the chair, both sipping an infusion to ease their pain.

"Tell us what happened when you were taken, Casey," she said, hanging up her cloak on a hook by the door and kneeling on a pillow beside the hearth. Beneath her cloak, she wore loose gray trousers and a plain overtunic. Both were practical and comfortable. Daniel stared at the fire.

"It is simple enough," Casey replied softly. "I had purchased food, additional blankets, and two waterskins, when there was an outcry behind me. Before I knew what had happened, my arms were seized. The Sergeant exposed my arm with the mark, and asked for my papers. I did not even have time to answer before I was dragged through the streets to the guardhouse."

He paused. Daniel's heart ached at the exhaustion in his voice, but he could not raise his eyes to Casey's face. There was a hard, cold lump in his belly.

"Then," Casey continued, "they stripped me and bound me, and debated over their next course of action. I tried to tell them the circumstances, and to convince them to see you, Ma- Daniel, but they would not listen, and gagged me. Your arrival," he whispered, his voice cracking, "was a blessing from Ilmarinen."

Daniel cleared his throat and glanced at Casey. "It was that damned Kaseem. He wished to be rid of you."

Casey raised his eyes and looked solemnly at Daniel. "He wanted you." Daniel's face grew warm, and his gut twisted. He shook his head and Casey's eyes fell. "It was plain to see, Daniel. He hungered for you, and I was in his way."

They were silent for a moment, and Daniel wanted nothing more than to cross the room and gather Casey in his arms. But he had brought this latest outrage on Casey by not immediately sending for a scribe to prepare the papers, by allowing Casey out on his own, by shirking his responsibilities. His father would be ashamed. It was just one more fault to weigh upon his shoulders. Even worse, he had responded to Kaseem's seduction, felt his flesh fill at that practiced touch, felt the burning desire deep within... He was no better than a rutting ram. He closed his eyes, his breath catching in his chest. Slowly he regained control, not trusting himself to speak until the tightness in his throat had eased. There were other questions to be asked and answered, however, and he could not afford the luxury of guilt. Not now.

Finally, he turned to the healer. "Why did you come to me with the news? I did not think healers ever involved themselves in affairs outside their sphere."

"We don't," she replied brusquely, her fingers picking at a small frayed place on the knee of her trousers.

"Then why?" he persisted.

"I cannot tell you much." She spoke slowly, the words dragged from her. "It is important that neither you nor your... companion come to harm while on your journey."

"What?" Daniel sat up and gripped the arm of the chair tightly. "What do you know of our journey? Of us? Has my father sent-"

"I know nothing of the circumstances that motivated your journey, Effendi." Her hands were clasped in her lap, the knuckles white. "I speak of... things outside the everyday realm our bodies inhabit."

He stared at her, startled by her words. "Things outside..." A huge, choking laugh burst from him. "You jest! What have we to do with afreets?"

She shook her head solemnly. "Afreets? No. They are tales told to frighten children."

He quickly made the sign against evil. Not because he believed. Never think that. It was merely a habit, longstanding. "Then what do you speak of?" he challenged. "Of other tales, told to frighten men?"

"No." Her face was pallid in the firelight. Casey shifted on the bed, and she glanced at him before meeting Daniel's eyes. "I speak of a tale passed down from time before time, a tale long forgotten, only spoken of in books, equally forgotten. A tale of two-"

A muffled noise from the bed drew his eyes. Casey was leaning forward, his face intent. The raw patches at the corners of his mouth rebuked Daniel. "Kaksonen sielu," Casey whispered. "There are those who yet remember."

With a nod, she raised her hand and made a strange gesture that Daniel had seen before; it was one that Casey had sometimes made. "Yes. Those who remember, and who have taken the first step along the path."

"Willingly or unwillingly." His voice was almost drowned by the crackle of the fire.

Daniel stared at them, his limbs heavy, his mind dull. By the Five, what did they mean? Long forgotten tales, still remembered? A path? And Casey, mouthing a barbaric phrase? He shook himself, as a dog would shake off water, and stood. How could the healer know anything about him? About Casey? Her words must be a trick. They were general enough that anyone could interpret them to their own liking. If she had her way, they would sit here for hours, trading vague hints and impossible conjectures. They would lower their guard from exhaustion and interest, and then...

Allah be merciful!

"She is in the pay of my father," he barked, pointing a shaking finger at her. "He has contacted her, told her to delay us, to lull us-"

"No!" She sprang to her feet, her mouth open, her eyes impossibly wide.

Casey scrambled over the bed. "Master, wait-"

He turned to Casey, spreading his hands wide. "Can't you see? She was there, plotting, planning." Oh, he had been a fool. "It was too convenient that you were captured while I was... distracted. The guards would never have harmed you, for she just wanted us delayed." Casey shook his head, unbelieving, and Daniel strode to him, clasping his shoulder, willing him to see. "She offered us sanctuary in her own home, something no healer would do. She has diverted our minds with mystical nonsense, in order to keep us here."

"No, Master." The backs of Casey's fingers gently brushed his cheek. "It is not nonsense. I have long known-"

Daniel grasped his hand and held it tightly between them. "She has manipulated you, as she has me." He met Casey's eyes. "We must go, now. Every moment brings danger of discovery." With a deep breath, he played his final card. "If you will not accompany me, I will go alone."

"No," whispered the healer.

"But-" Casey's mouth snapped shut and he bowed his head.

Daniel waited for a moment, then drew Casey to him. "Come with me," he murmured into Casey's hair. "We will find your son, and then..." He brushed his lips over Casey's forehead. "Then Dauid will send word that my father welcomes my return, and we shall be together."

Casey nodded, but he did not look at Daniel, even when he clasped Casey's chin and raised his head.

"Effendi..."

He turned his head and glared. "Keep quiet, woman. You have done enough harm." He released Casey and went to the door. "You can tell my father that I am innocent, but not a fool. He cannot force my return so easily." He opened the door and stepped into the waning light. "Casey, come."

The sun was touching the horizon as the last of the village houses disappeared from view behind them. Daniel was exhausted, but he sat straighter in the saddle and faced the encroaching darkness. There was sanctuary ahead, a house of holy men, where travelers were welcome and no questions were asked. But it was still several hours distant. They could not travel in the dark, and would need a sheltered spot to sleep, if they wished to avoid lighting a fire.

And Daniel did not wish to draw any attention.

By the time he had found a small hollow of dry earth on the leeward side of a low cliff, the last vestiges of the sun were being swallowed up by the night. His arm throbbed with Zeina's every step, and Casey's drawn face and pinched lips testified to his own battle with pain. For a fleeting moment, Daniel regretted the warm, comfortable room they had left, and the joy of a hot supper, but he quickly suppressed his regrets. It was not pleasant to sleep on the cold ground, with only water and dry bread and cheese to dine upon, but they would be safe.

They settled the horses, and spread their blankets on the soft sand. Casey lowered himself stiffly, stifling a groan. Daniel did not so much sit as collapse, twisting slightly to avoid hitting his aching arm, and Casey handed him the food and waterskin. He ate because it was necessary to maintain his strength, but he was too tired to taste even the strong, musty flavor of the cheese.

Within moments of finishing their scant meal, they were stretched out on the blankets. Casey had begun to snore softly almost as soon as he lay down, but Daniel shifted restlessly. He could not find a comfortable position for his arm. Every time he fell down the well of sleep, he was roused by pain.

The third time this occurred, he opened his eyes, surprised to see the landscape illuminated by a silvery light. The moon, almost full, had risen, and details of grass and rock were unexpectedly clear in the cold brightness.

He dozed again, comforted by Casey's breathy sighs and snuffles. They would be up at first light, and in comfortable quarters by noon. He could sleep then, and Casey would-

The sound of a pebble rolling was loud in the stillness.

Daniel lifted his head to check on the horses. They were standing motionless where they had been hobbled, moonlight glinting off their glossy backs.

A soft crunch brought him to full alertness, and he fingered the hilt of his knife.

The figure moved swiftly to stand before him, its black shadow spilling across the sleeping Casey like a curse. It paused, and Daniel sat up suddenly, raising his knife. But he had forgotten his injury, and hissed sharply as sheets of fire raced up his arm.

The figure shifted, one arm extended, the flash of metal. "Who is fleeing whom now, Master?" The voice was thick with mirth.

No.

Daniel stared, every nerve in his body screaming. Impossible. It could not be. Allah would not be so cruel.

"Nothing to say, Master? That's unusual."

He opened his mouth, choked, and tried again.

"How- But you are-" Despite the cool night air, he was drenched in sweat, his skin clammy. He must be asleep, and yet... He breathed one word.

"Guord-"

The chuckle was razor-sharp and filled with madness.

"Yes," Guord said, the knife glinting in the moonlight. "I am not dead, despite being condemned by your hand, el-Rydal." He paused, and his teeth gleamed as he snarled. "Master."

Daniel clasped his knife tightly, sending a flare of pain up his arm, but kept his hand down and the knife out of sight. He opened his mouth, but there were no words.

"I am disappointed," Guord said with a sneer. "I thought you would leap to your feet and defend yourself, son of Yakob." He looked at Casey, still sleeping, and then returned his gaze to Daniel. His smile broadened. "I shall enjoy this."

The cold inside Daniel increased, and he wondered if he were going to lose control of his bowels. Oh, how Guord would laugh at that sign of weakness...

The thought sent heat to his face and strength to his limbs, and he carefully moved a little away from Casey. He could not allow Guord to touch Casey again.

"You live," he said quietly. "How?"

Guord turned toward him and crossed his arms over his chest with a snort. "You are blind as well as stupid, Master. There are those who would be best pleased to see your father dead, and you stripped of your name and position. I am not alone in hating those who bear the name of el-Rydal," he paused for a moment and turned toward Casey. "And the catamites who gain their favor."

Slowly, Daniel drew his legs up. He might be able to spring at Guord from this position...

"Don't move."

Guord shifted around, his arm raised. Daniel froze, his mind racing. His fingers gripped the hilt of his knife, but he could not throw the knife and hit Guord - not with his injured arm. Setting his jaw, he spared the time for one brief curse.

"Who cut your bonds and rescued you?" he asked quietly. If he could only buy some time...

Guord laughed mirthlessly. "So, the mighty intelligence of el-Rydal does not know this." He tilted his head to one side, as if considering, and then huffed out a chuckle. "No, I think not-"

"Master?" Casey murmured sleepily, rolling toward Daniel.

Oh, Allah, no...

Casey's hand reached for him, and for one heart-stopping moment, Daniel thought Guord would simply lean over and slit Casey's throat.

"Mas-" The word ended in a gasp as he came fully awake. Daniel wanted to reach for Casey, take him in his arms, protect him with his body, but he did not dare take his eyes from Guord.

"We meet again, my whore, my tight-fitting glove." Guord raised his hand and stretched out the fingers, then clenched them in a fist. "Oh, I look forward to finishing what I began," he continued, and Daniel's gut twisted at the thought. "I know you want more, can take more." His voice was soft and oily. "I will use both my hands this time, catamite, and split you open like ripe fruit."

Casey's harsh breath was audible in the silence. "You're dead," he blurted, rolling onto his back and sliding away from Daniel.

Daniel's eyes flickered between them, his heart battering his chest. Good, Casey. Draw his eyes from me for a moment...

Guord took a step toward Casey. "You cannot escape me, whore. That fool Shaul thought he was using me." Daniel bit his lip to keep from crying out at the news, and Guord continued. "But I played him so well that he thought it was all his own idea. That bitch Salaeh, as well." Casey slid back farther, and Guord took another step toward him.

"They helped you?" Casey whimpered, scooting awkwardly across the sand.

"Helped me?" Guord sounded incensed. "They did not help me - they did exactly what I planned."

Daniel slowly, so slowly, pulled his feet under him until he was squatting, balancing carefully.

"But you were staked out, tied-" Casey's voice cut off as he backed into a boulder.

"They arranged for a fool to cut my bonds and bring me a horse," he said, his voice thick with lust and anticipation. "A fool who was easily lured to the edge of the cliff, and whose body deceived you into thinking it was me."

Ah. Daniel remembered the news from Ahmet ibn Ali Hassan about his cousin Zaeve. Zaeve had disappeared, hadn't he? Guord was turned toward Casey, as if he had forgotten Daniel completely. Daniel carefully shifted his knife to his good hand, waiting.

"And you followed me?" Casey's eyes glittered in the moonlight. Was he checking Daniel's position? Distracting Guord until Daniel could attack? Daniel prayed it was so, and gathered his strength.

"Yes. I am not finished with you. Not by any means. But first," Guord lunged forward abruptly, grabbing Casey's arm and jerking him to his feet. Daniel leapt up and took a step toward them, but Guord swung a struggling Casey in front of him, wrapped an arm across his chest and held the edge of his knife at Casey's throat.

"First," Guord said softly, running his free hand up Casey's arm, "I must deal with you, Daniel el-Rydal. Do not move," he continued, as Daniel stepped to the left. Casey cried out and Guord cuffed the side of his head. A dark line trickled slowly down Casey's pale neck, and Daniel clenched his hands, breathing harshly.

It was his fault; he had allowed this to happen. His throat tightened and his stomach lurched as Guord forced Casey's chin up, and slid his hand down Casey's chest and abdomen to cup his genitals. His fingers moved, and Casey let out a strangled moan.

"Drop the knife, el-Rydal." Guord's voice was cold, and his fingers tightened. Casey whimpered. "Drop it!"

Daniel let the knife fall. His rage flared and then, miraculously, it turned to ice. He was calm, and his mind raced, searching for an opening, any moment of weakness.

"On your knees," Guord ordered, forcing Casey's chin up farther.

Dropping to his knees, Daniel hoarded his strength and waited.

With a laugh, Guord released Casey's groin and shoved up his tunic, tugging at the waist of his trousers. Breathing shallowly, the knife pressed into the curve between jaw and neck, Casey closed his eyes as Guord ripped the material, pulling his trousers down below his hips.

Daniel watched, his muscles taut, ready.

Guord briefly fingered Casey's lax cock, and then, grinning manically, slid his hand across Casey's hipbone. He grabbed it, pushing Casey's hips around. "That's right," he crooned. "Turn, my whore, so that your Master can see everything." With a moan, Casey turned his body, presenting his bare ass to Daniel. His neck twisted horribly, his head held in place by the knife at his throat.

Guord's hand covered each pale cheek in turn, squeezing and stroking them roughly. Casey bit back a gasp as Guord slid his hand between Casey's cheeks. His body arched and he wailed as Guord's fingers disappeared inside him.

Guord chuckled, and he looked down at his fingers buried in Casey's ass.

Daniel sprang.

Daniel moved so quickly that his shoulder hit Guord's side before the other man even had time to look up.

It was like hitting a wall, and his stomach twisted with pain as his injured arm slammed into Guord. He heard Casey yell as he scrabbled for Guord's legs, trying to bring him down.

Fingers tore at his face and he snapped at them, biting down like a dog, ripping, tearing. A scream, and he flew backward, dizzy from the kick that landed on his hip. Another kick caught him in the ribs, and he lay curled in the sand, struggling to catch his breath.

"Fool!"

Guord stumbled toward him, his arm raised, his hand streaked with blood, knife blade flashing in the moonlight.

Daniel twisted, raising his arm to shield his head. Pain flared from elbow to wrist, and he bit back a scream, turning, rolling away.

Guord followed him, his feet close to Daniel's side. Daniel panted, clutching at his arm with a hand that quickly grew slick with blood, digging in his heels and pushing back, away from Guord. The cliff at his back stopped him abruptly.

"I knew you were a fool, el-Rydal, but I never believed you were stupid enough to attack an armed man," Guord spat. A small, satisfied smile touched his lips as he hefted the knife in his hand and looked consideringly at Daniel. "Oh, yes, I shall enjoy this." Raising his hand, he took a step forward.

Daniel gasped as a pale form flew at Guord from the side, arms high above its head. Casey! Guord screamed and staggered as Casey's hands hit him in the back, but he swept an impatient arm behind him, and Daniel cried out as Casey landed hard on the sand and lay still.

"He shall pay for that." Guord did not spare Casey a glance. He lifted the knife and dove for Daniel.

Rolling and scrabbling across the sand, Daniel dodged the blade, yelping when it streaked lightly across his ribs. He kicked out, and Guord's head snapped back, his arm flailing. The blade glittered, red and silver, and plunged into Daniel's thigh.

Oh, Allah, the pain! His lungs were seared, he could not breathe or cry out...

A wild scream - not his - jerked his head around. Casey, mouth open wide, throat pouring out a ferocious sound that shredded the stillness, staggered to his feet and rushed at them. Guord turned his head and smiled, fingers clutching at Casey's bare leg. With a curse that Daniel did not understand, Casey pulled free of Guord's grasp and flung himself on Guord's back.

Daniel's head swam, and he could only watch as Casey straddled Guord's back and grabbed the knife - knife? - buried between Guord's shoulderblades. Guord screamed and rolled to his side as Casey wrenched out the knife and slammed it back.

Gagging on the bile that rose, bitter as gall, in his throat, Daniel pulled the knife from his thigh and reeled, dizzy. He pressed the heel of his hand against the wound, blinking back tears and desperately trying to focus on the figures before him.

Guord lay on his side, coughing, choking. Daniel wiped the back of his hand over his eyes, clearing them; only then did he see Casey's hands wrapped around Guord's throat, fingers digging into the soft flesh under his jaw.

Bulging eyes met his, unbelieving. Froth bubbled at pale lips, and spittle flecked the pallid chin and cheeks. Casey spoke, his voice, fierce and pitiless, rising and falling in unintelligible cadences that chilled Daniel's heart.

Guord gasped and retched. His limbs twitched, his head jerked. Casey's fingers squeezed, unrelenting.

With a shudder, Guord rolled onto his stomach, and Daniel could see Casey, clinging to his back. His face was blank, like the carving of a barbaric stone god. Only his harsh breathing signaled that he was still flesh and bone.

Guord lay still for a long time before Casey unwrapped his hands from around that thick throat. He was panting, his breath hitching like that of a crying child.

"He is dead, Casey." Daniel's voice was a whisper.

Casey slowly raised his head and looked at Daniel. His cheeks were wet, and he raised a hand, scrubbing at his face.

"I know," he replied hoarsely.

Daniel's head swam, and he turned to his side, retching dryly. He pressed his blood-slick hand hard against his thigh and closed his eyes.

Gentle hands touched his thigh, and he groaned and winced.

"I'm sorry, Daniel."

He forced his eyes open. Casey knelt beside him, his face pale in the moonlight. He held a small pot of salve and turned to Daniel.

"I will have to cut your trousers away from the wound before I can apply the salve and bind it," he said softly.

Daniel shook his head. "It's too deep." He gritted his teeth as pain stabbed through his thigh.

"I know. It's only a temporary measure." Casey sounded impatient. "I have to get you to the holy men so that your wounds can be properly treated."

Daniel sighed. Casey was right. At least the salve would help dull some of the pain. His stomach turned at the thought of riding in his condition.

"Very well," he said shortly.

Casey picked up Guord's blood-stained knife, and Daniel gave a chuff of surprise. Casey looked up at him.

"Your knife is still in his back," he said bluntly. "I will retrieve it before we leave."

Daniel fainted as Casey worked, and was grateful that Casey didn't rouse him until he had finished dressing and binding his wounds. He felt queasy and weak and did not argue when Casey told him to stay where he was until they were ready to leave.

Casey squatted beside his pack, his bare legs shining.

"Put on a pair of my trousers," Daniel murmured, and Casey looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "How badly did he hurt you?" Daniel continued, as Casey turned and began to rummage through his pack.

"Not too bad," Casey replied, pulling out a pair of trousers. "I pretended to be in more pain than I actually was."

"Come here."

"In a minute." Looking annoyed, Casey picked up the jar of salve. "I need to-"

"Let me." Daniel raised his uninjured hand. When Casey hesitated, he sighed impatiently. "I will be gentle."

"I know." Casey bowed his head and handed Daniel the jar. "I... I just..." His voice shook.

Daniel dropped the jar and stroked Casey's thigh. "I know, I know," he soothed. Rage at Guord gave him strength. "I just want to make sure you aren't severely injured."

With a nod, Casey turned and presented his ass to Daniel. After a moment, Casey grabbed his cheeks with his hands and spread them, opening himself to Daniel's inspection. Very gently, using one fingertip, Daniel stroked Casey's bruised and swollen hole. Casey shook, a whimper cut off abruptly. Daniel was relieved: there was a little tearing, but not much, and the bleeding had already stopped. Coating his fingertip with salve, he spread it around the muscle and then slid the tip inside. He could feel more damage inside, but Casey, like he, would have to wait for further attention until they arrived at the house of the holy men.

Casey let out a noisy breath when Daniel removed his finger and said "Put on the trousers."

Once he was dressed again, Casey went over to the mound that was Guord's body, and, placing his foot in the center of Guord's back, pulled out Daniel's knife with a sickening sound. He wiped it clean on the sand, then returned it to Daniel.

Daniel nodded at Guord's knife. "Take that one, and carry it with you." Casey looked at him for a long moment, then slipped it inside his boot.

The horses were restless; they did not like the smell of blood. With a sound of disgust, Casey grabbed Guord's feet and dragged his body into the brush. Daniel breathed easier once it was out of sight, and he slowly levered himself up until he was sitting. He snagged his pack and tied it shut, awkward with his injuries.

Casey returned, leading the horses, and he glared at Daniel. "You should have stayed down," he snapped. "It's going to be bad enough to get you onto Zeina and you will have trouble staying there."

Daniel's back stiffened at Casey's tone. Who the hell was he to say what an el-Rydal could endure? "I'll manage."

Casey snorted. Daniel narrowed his eyes and turned slowly, getting his knees under him.

"You stubborn..." Casey grabbed him under his arms and pulled him upright. Daniel bit his lip and stifled a scream of pain. He would not... He would not... He swayed in Casey's arms, his head swimming.

Somehow, slowly, painfully, teetering on boulders and muttering curses, they both mounted Zeina. Daniel sat in front, surrounded by Casey's strong arms. Before he mounted, he had insisted that Casey pad the saddle with his cloak. Daniel would never admit his terror that Casey would hemorrhage to death on the journey, but he heard Casey's gasp of pain when he sat back on the saddle, and knew he had been right to insist.

The eastern horizon was just beginning to lighten into gray as they returned to the road and headed west. Daniel held the pommel tightly with his good hand and swayed from side to side as Zeina walked - his right leg was useless. Casey held him as steady as possible, given his own awkward seat, and Daniel wondered as he bowed his head, fighting nausea, whether or not they would be able to stay on long enough to reach the holy men.

"You will not die on me," Casey muttered as he dragged Daniel upright on the saddle again. The sun was high, and the road before them shimmered in the heat.

Daniel groaned, his head simultaneously light as a bird in flight and as heavy as the rocks that tumbled down the cliff. "I have no intention of dying," he whispered, leaning his head back against Casey's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Casey snorted, and his arms tightened around Daniel. "I'm sure you don't. You'd only die if you could annoy someone by doing so."

Daniel laughed weakly, but did not open his eyes. His face was damp, and his skin clammy. If not for Casey's arms holding him upright, he would have landed in the dust hours ago.

"How much farther?" Casey asked gently.

"Soon..." Daniel swallowed hard and his head lolled on Casey's shoulder. The ground tilted, the sky whirled, and blackness rushed up to meet him.

Voices, sharp and fearful, then softening quickly, roused him. He groaned and tried to lift his head. A hand held it firmly, a voice murmured in his ear.

"All is well."

Hands pulled at him, and he slid to the side, falling into a web of strong arms. He was lifted, carried easily for several long moments, and then deposited gently onto softness. More hands pulled on his clothing, unfastening, untucking, unwrapping Casey's awkward bandages, sliding shirt and trousers carefully off his massively heavy limbs. A quiet voice spoke with authority, and a hand rested on his forehead.

He forced his eyelids open. A thin face, bearded and hawk-nosed, hung above him. Warm brown eyes met his briefly, and flickered over his body.

Daniel turned his head, blinking. A two white-clad figures moved around the bright room, but he did not see... Where was he?

"Casey?" he croaked, then licked his lips and tried again. "Where is Casey?"

There was a hubbub on the other side of the room, and Casey's voice called out, "I'm here."

"Casey?" He turned his head and tried to sit up, but a thin brown hand rested on the center of his chest, and he could not move. A sliver of panic pierced his chest, and he struggled in vain. "Casey?"

"I'm here." Casey suddenly appeared at his side, his face pale, with darkening bruises along his cheeks, jaw and neck. A thin line of red at the curve of jaw and throat made Daniel's stomach turn. Casey clasped Daniel's uninjured hand and raised his fingers to his lips.

Daniel squeezed Casey's fingers in a watery grip. Allah, he was tired... He turned to the man hovering beside his bed. "Are you the healer?" Even those few words exhausted him, but he forced his eyes to remain open. The man nodded. "My companion has been brutally used," he said in a voice that was barely a whisper. "See to his injuries, and treat him gently and with great respect."

Casey coughed, and Daniel turned back to him. He was running the back of his hand over his eyes, sniffling. "My injuries will keep for the moment," Casey said roughly. "You worry about yourself."

Daniel snorted and relaxed into the soft mattress. But he did not loosen his fingers, and Casey remained by his side as the healer and his attendants cleaned and dressed his wounds. The process was too uncomfortable for him to sleep, but he rested, hoarding his strength.

At last, clean and covered with a light linen sheet, he pulled Casey's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss over his knuckles. Casey suddenly stifled a moan, and his fingers tightened on Daniel's. Daniel's eyes flew open.

Casey was bent over a small table that had been carried to Daniel's bedside. His shirt was rucked up to his waist, and the healer stood behind him, holding a watersack fitted with a long nozzle. Daniel recognized it with a lurch of his heart. No, Allah, no...

"No!" His voice was harsh. "Do not use that on him!"

The healer looked up, his forehead furrowed. "But Effendi, he must be cleansed before I can tend to his wounds."

"Not with that," Daniel replied adamantly.

The healer's face darkened and he frowned. "Without cleansing, his wounds will not heal properly."

Stifling his reply, Daniel released Casey's hand and struggled to sit up.

"It's all right," Casey said, standing, his hand pulling at Daniel's shoulder, and the healer rushed to the other side of the bed and tried to press him back.

"Help me sit up," Daniel snapped, batting away Casey's hand and glaring at the healer. "I will administer it myself."

The healer gasped and stared at Daniel, wide-eyed. "Effendi, you cannot! It is unclean to touch-"

"Master, please," Casey pleaded, but Daniel did not look at him.

"Master?" The healer looked confused. "He is your slave?" Before Daniel could speak, his expression cleared and he nodded. "Then of course you may cleanse him." He stepped back from the bed.

Daniel opened his mouth to explain, but quickly closed it again. He would explain that Casey had been freed later, once his wounds had been treated.

"Help me, slave," said the healer to Casey, and they carefully propped Daniel's back against the cushions. It hurt, by the Five it hurt to move, but Daniel pressed his lips together and only allowed himself a shaky sigh once he was sitting up.

"Here is the watersack," said the healer, placing it on the bed at Daniel's elbow. "You should not try to turn, Effendi. Your slave can kneel on the bed."

Daniel nodded. Casey silently climbed onto the bed.

"Not that way, slave," the healer said brusquely. "Straddle your master's hips facing his feet, and present yourself to him."

Daniel had a glimpse of Casey's white face before he turned away and awkwardly clambered over Daniel's legs. The healer tugged Casey's thigh. "Move closer to him so that he won't have as far to reach." Casey inched back, and then the healer reached up and pressed on his shoulder. "Bend over."

Casey dropped to his hands, his harsh breaths loud in the quiet room. Daniel ran a soothing hand down his flank, and the healer pulled his shirt up his back.

Daniel bit back a curse at what he could see clearly in the daylight. Casey's ass was bruised, his hole swollen and dark. The healer reached over and spread Casey's cheeks, revealing the damage even more clearly. Casey shuddered and clenched his cheeks.

The healer pulled at him impatiently, stretching his hole. "Relax for your master."

"Release him!" Daniel barked, and when the startled healer looked at him stupidly, he narrowed his eyes. "Do not touch him. I will treat his injuries, as I always have."

The healer swallowed hard and pulled his hands away. Casey shifted on the bed.

"I will be gentle," Daniel said softly, his hand caressing Casey's ass and flank. "Relax, Casey. You know how it is done. It will be over soon."

After a few moments, he could feel Casey's muscles loosen beneath his fingers, and he murmured praise. He lifted the watersack and guided the greased nozzle into Casey's hole.

"My beautiful Casey," he murmured, as he awkwardly squeezed the sack. Casey grunted as the water flowed into his gut. It was difficult for Daniel to squeeze with his one hand, but then the healer leaned forward and held the sack for him, lifting it slightly.

Daniel continued to squeeze the sack, watching, fascinated, as Casey's hole twitched and clenched around the nozzle. At last the sack was empty, and he slid out the nozzle, pressing his fingers gently against Casey's hole.

"How long must he hold the water?" he asked the healer, who was handing the empty sack to one of his assistants.

"For a count of one hundred." The healer returned to the side of the bed, frowning at Daniel's hand pressed against Casey.

"You heard, Casey," Daniel said quietly. "One. Two. Three..."

Casey grunted and continued the count. He dropped to his elbows when he reached fifty, and by seventy he was groaning and shifting from side to side, sweat collecting in his crease. He was breathless and gasping when he reached ninety, his muscles jumping and twitching under Daniel's fingers.

"One hundred," he gasped, and the two assistants helped him slide from the bed, leading him around the corner. He emerged several minutes later, leaning heavily on one of the assistants. His face was as white as parchment and gleamed with sweat.

"What did you put in the water?" Daniel asked the healer angrily.

He shrugged. "A few herbs, which accelerate the cleansing process." Daniel muttered a curse, and the healer gave him a reproving look. "It is not pleasant," the healer admitted casually, "but necessary in cases like these."

Daniel nodded, although he wished Casey could have been spared that discomfort.

The assistants helped Casey back onto the bed in the same position as before.

Scooping up a fingerful of the unguent, Daniel ran it gently around Casey's hole, spreading it thickly over the swollen and bruised flesh. Daniel took more and slowly, carefully placed the tip of his finger on Casey's hole, pressing firmly. Casey whimpered as his finger disappeared inside, but he remained still as Daniel slid his finger in as far as it would go, and then out, twisting it to spread the unguent evenly.

Another scoop, and his finger slid in easily. Casey shifted on his knees, and Daniel saw that his cock was filling. He suppressed his smile, and promised himself that he would fill that hole as soon as Casey had healed. His own cock twitched in agreement.

He was startled when the healer bent over the bed, frowning in concentration as he looked at Casey's ass. In his enjoyment, Daniel had forgotten about the healer and his assistants witnessing their intimacies.

"Is that sufficient?" he asked the healer, who tilted his head to one side and then nodded.

Sliding out his finger with a final twist that sent a shudder through Casey, he leaned back, exhausted. Moving stiffly, Casey was helped off the bed. An assistant brought a bowl of water and washed Daniel's hands, patting them dry gently.

The healer gave him a cup of bitter, warm tea to drink, and he swallowed it with difficulty.

"Casey?" he said, relieved when he saw Casey across the room, pulling on a clean tunic.

"Do not worry," murmured the healer, taking the cup from his suddenly clumsy hands. "He will stay with you. Sleep."

Daniel's eyelids fluttered and grew heavy. He could not keep them open. Gentle fingers stroked his cheek and he smiled sleepily at Casey.

"Sleep," Casey said softly.

Daniel closed his eyes and knew no more.

Shadowy hands reached for him, pulling him, forcing him away... He opened his mouth and called out, but his cry was drowned in a huge clamor that suddenly broke out, and he turned, hands outstretched, eyes damp with tears. Casey sat, chained and bleeding on the ground before him. His bruised lips opened, his filthy brow furrowed, and he spat at Daniel, then shouted 'liar, betrayer.' Daniel cried 'no!' but he did not make a sound, and he was borne away...

With a start, Daniel opened his eyes. Where was he? He tried to raise himself when pain flared through his arm, ribs, and thigh, and he collapsed back on his pillow with a groan.

"Daniel?"

Casey's voice. He turned, his heart pounding with remembered fear. Casey's face appeared ghostly in the dim room, but Casey's hand was warm and alive and rested gently on his shoulder.

"A dream," he panted, shaking his head. "It was only a dream."

Casey stroked his shoulder. "You are safe," he said, not meeting Daniel's eyes. "Go back to sleep."

Daniel rubbed his eyes and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "What time is it?"

"Almost nightfall." Casey looked up and gestured, and Daniel heard the door open and close. "Would you like water?"

"Yes." Casey helped prop up his head and shoulders. Suddenly aware of his parched throat, Daniel eagerly drank from the cup that Casey held for him. He sank back with a sigh. "I must urinate," he muttered, uncomfortably aware of his full bladder. "Help me up."

"No." Casey bent down and retrieved a long-necked bottle. "The healer said you are to remain in bed until at least tomorrow. Use this."

Pressing his lips together, Daniel permitted Casey to position the bottle and relieved himself. Casey took the bottle around the corner and returned quickly.

As he stepped back to the bed, the door opened and the healer appeared in a nimbus of light, his eyes bright. "You are awake," he said, setting his candle down beside the bed and taking Daniel's wrist in his fingers. He tilted his head to one side. "Good. Are you in pain?"

"No." Daniel winced as the healer checked the bandages on his forearm, ribs and thigh. "It is uncomfortable, though."

"I know." When he finished his examination, the healer drew the sheet back over Daniel and smiled. "I will send a bowl of soup and some soft bread for you. Your slave can-"

"Casey is not my slave," Daniel blurted.

"But he bears the mark," the healer replied, glancing from Daniel to Casey in confusion. "And you said-"

"I was exhausted and in pain and not thinking clearly." Daniel felt his face go warm, but he met the healer's eyes. "I have recently freed him, but have not had the opportunity to draw up his papers of manumission."

"I see." The healer looked solemnly at Daniel. "Then I will send a servant from the kitchen to assist you to-"

"There is no need," Casey broke in. Daniel turned to him, surprised. "I will help him," Casey continued, his cheeks flushed. "I am familiar with his... preferences."

"Very well," the healer replied slowly, his gaze traveling from Daniel to Casey and back again. Daniel forced himself not to squirm or look away from those piercing eyes. "If he wishes, he may remain and tend to you. But remember," his voice grew soft, "that although you, like all travelers, are welcome and may stay as long as you desire, we are a house of holy men. The words of the Five must be respected here, in deed, if not in thought."

Daniel nodded. He had expected this requirement, although he had hoped it would not be made explicit. "I pledge that it shall be so."

"And you?" The healer looked at Casey.

A crease appeared between Casey's brows, and he glanced at Daniel. "I do not understand."

The healer looked thoughtful. "You are an infidel?" he asked Casey.

Casey swallowed hard but answered him quickly. "My gods are not your god, it is true, but I will not knowingly blaspheme in your house."

"I will instruct him," Daniel said before the healer could respond. "And my pledge includes him. I will be responsible for his behavior while we are your guests."

Casey's face darkened and he opened his mouth, but shut it when Daniel shook his head.

"I accept your pledge." The healer nodded to them both, then turned and left the room.

"You are responsible for my behavior?" Casey snapped as soon as the door closed and they were alone. "You have freed me - you said it to the healer! As a free man, I am responsible for my own behavior, el-Rydal Effendi."

"Casey," Daniel sighed and bit back a groan as his ribs ached.

"Or have you changed your mind again, Master?" Casey continued bitterly. "Shall you keep me dangling for a while longer?" He crossed his arms over his chest and moved to the window, looking out on the darkness. "Does it amuse you to toy with me so?" he muttered.

"Casey, will you come here?"

"Is that an order, Master?" His voice was cold.

"No." Daniel shifted on the bed. "It is a request, because I cannot turn enough to see you clearly."

Casey snorted, but slowly moved back to the bed. He stared down at Daniel, his face dark.

"The healer meant that we should refrain from any sexual intimacy while we are here." Daniel held up his hand when Casey opened his mouth. "First, because the desires of the flesh should be abjured in a holy house, and second, because when one man lies with another it is a grievous sin."

Casey looked stunned. "A sin?" His eyes darted around the room, then returned to Daniel. "But the slaves..."

"Taking a slave is a duty, to show a legal claim to their body. Using a slave in that fashion is permitted, especially if the man has no wife, or one who cannot be bedded." His cheeks grew warm. "But if you are a free man, then..." He looked away, his throat suddenly tight.

"No!" Casey shook his head, his face white. "No. What about Kaseem? He is freeborn, and he wanted you to take him."

Daniel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, and his ribs felt as if they were being pried apart. "There are those for whom the desire is greater than the fear of sinning. The Five instruct believers to pity them, and not to harm them, but they are forbidden to inherit their father's lands and possessions."

He could not understand the words that Casey whispered, but he did not doubt they were a prayer to his heathen gods. Daniel opened his eyes. The sight of Casey standing beside his bed, arms outstretched, eyes squeezed shut, tears trailing slowly down his cheeks, murmuring in his barbaric tongue, nearly broke Daniel's heart. He had not forgotten the injunction, but he had ignored it, pretended it did not exist because he wanted this man, needed this man, body and soul.

It was obvious that Allah had decided he was not worthy of mercy.

The knock at the door startled him, and Casey opened his eyes with a gasp. He scrubbed the tears from his face as he went to the door, and relieved the servant of the tray of food.

Settling the tray on the table beside the bed, Casey briskly tore off a piece of bread and soaked it in the soup. Daniel took it from his fingers.

He looked at Casey's frozen expression. "You must be hungry, too. Eat something."

A spasm of emotion, quickly controlled, crossed Casey's face. "I am not hungry. I ate earlier." He picked up the bowl and dipped the spoon into the rich broth. Daniel opened his mouth obediently, but was not at all surprised that it tasted like ashes.

Feeling groggy from too little sleep and stiff and sore from his injuries, Daniel nevertheless requested the services of a scribe after he had breakfasted. Casey had insisted on attending him, although he was silent and pale and answered only when directly addressed. He had assured Daniel that his injuries were healing, but he had refused Daniel's offer of help apply the salve. Daniel's only consolation was that Casey had also refused the attentions of the healer and his staff. After a heated argument, the healer had given in, and Casey was shown into a small room where he could minister to himself.

The scribe arrived and settled himself at the low table, setting out parchment and ink and looking at Daniel expectantly.

"Your desire, Effendi?"

Daniel bit back the words that rose unbidden to his lips and nodded solemnly. "You will prepare a manumission."

The scribe mirrored his nod and dipped his pen into the ink. "Your name, Effendi?"

"Daniel el-Rydal."

The scribe began the document with a flourish. "And the name of the slave to be manumitted?"

"Casey Mackall." He swallowed hard, his throat tight and dry.

"Very good," the scribe murmured, bending over the parchment.

After a few moments Daniel became aware of a still figure standing near the window. Casey.

"There." The scribe's pen swooped across the parchment, and he carefully set the damp parchment aside. "Will you be able to sign the manumission, Effendi? Or would you prefer to make a mark?" He glanced at Daniel's bandaged arm.

"I will sign it."

A small movement, immediately aborted, drew his eyes to Casey. He was staring at Daniel, his face expressionless.

The scribe rose and bowed. "Your signature must be witnessed, Effendi. I will return in a moment with a suitable individual."

Daniel nodded, his eyes returning to Casey. "Did you think I had conveniently forgotten my pledge? That I would not be willing to hold to my word?"

Casey turned abruptly, his back to Daniel. The morning light from the window shone off his sun-bleached hair and spilled over his stiff shoulders. "No, I didn't."

"No," Daniel echoed softly. "I am an el-Rydal, and-"

With a bark of laughter, Casey spun around. "Oh, believe me, I had not forgotten that, Effendi. I could never forget that you are an el-Rydal."

"Casey?" Daniel stared at him stupidly. What had he said?

"I am suitably grateful, of course," Casey continued, his voice harsh. "I appreciate the condescension you show me by returning my freedom. We will not speak of the reason why my freedom was forfeited in the first place, nor what I have been subjected to in the meantime. No, those are matters that-"

"Casey?" He could hardly believe his ears, and a spark of anger grew in his belly. How could he say those things? How dare he...

Casey's mouth snapped shut and he wrapped his arms around his torso, as if he were chilled to the bone. His face crumpled, and he turned back to the window.

And then he understood. Daniel's heart thudded painfully in his chest, and his anger grew. "What more can I do, Casey? I did not make the law."

"You should have told me."

Daniel closed his burning eyes. "I didn't tell you because I didn't wish to think about it. I didn't tell you because it has nothing to do with you. I am the only one affected by our... activities. There was no need for you to know."

"Nothing to..." Casey's voice broke. "I was there, Daniel. I was affected as well."

Daniel leaned his head back. His wounds throbbed, and small bursts of light were pulsing behind his eyelids. He felt nauseous. "I have returned your freedom, as I had promised. What else would you ask of me?"

His answer came, hard and cold. "Nothing."

The pulsing light strengthened, and he squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to fight back the nausea that was twisting his stomach. He breathed through his nose and clamped his jaw tight, willing the sickness away. After a few moments, he could open his eyes. Casey was no longer at the window, and he swallowed, the taste of bile bitter in his throat.

He would change his plans. Send word to Dauid that he was here, so that news of his exoneration would reach him as quickly as possible. Give Casey... He narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. Give Casey the money they had, and send him on his way. Whether or not he was reunited with his son was no longer Daniel's concern. Casey had made that very clear.

Very well. Daniel could give him that, as well as his manumission papers.

He closed his eyes, wondering if Casey's son had the same soft, changeable hair, the same square jaw and long neck as his father...

"Effendi?"

The voice came from a great distance, and he muttered, annoyed.

"Effendi? The witness is coming."

The witness? Oh. Yes.

Daniel rubbed his eyes and yawned, wincing as his bruised ribs ached with the movement.

"Thank you," he said, blinking at the scribe who was gathering up parchment and pen.

"He is coming now. I will just..." The scribe laid the parchment over Daniel's lap, and cocked his head at the bandage on Daniel's arm. "If you cannot sign, a mark will do as well, Effendi. Whatever you can manage."

Daniel nodded, flexing the fingers on his injured arm. If he was careful, he should be able to produce a passable signature.

"Ah!" The scribe looked up. "Here he is. This way, Effendi."

Daniel looked up. "You!" he shouted, launching himself from the bed. He yelped as pain in his arm, ribs and thigh stabbed through him, but he continued to move forward, his arms outstretched, reaching, clasping...

"Effendi!" Two attendants and the scribe held him gently but firmly, pressing him back toward the bed.

"Let go of me!" He turned, trying to break free of their clinging hands. His nerves screamed and he yelled again, his leg buckling beneath him. Sweat beaded his brow and ran down his torso. He gasped, struggling against the hands, the pain, but he was still too weak. He could not fight them. Panting, he closed his eyes and went limp.

"Daniel?" Casey sounded breathless, as if he had been running. More footsteps, more voices. He groaned as they settled him back on the bed, and fingers briefly touched his shoulder. "Daniel? What has-" A gasp. "What are you-"

"What is happening?" The healer's voice was soft, but implacable. "Why this commotion?"

"I am afraid it is my fault." The voice was light and faintly amused. "I was asked to witness a document for a patient, and when I arrived, the Effendi... became distraught."

Daniel pushed away the pain and opened his eyes. "What have you done with my wife?" He glared at the man across the room.

"Effendi?" The healer looked from one man to the other, confusion writ plain on his face.

"She is safe. She is here, if you wish to speak with her." Isak el-Yafe met his eyes solemnly. "But should I not ask what happened to you?"

"I wish to speak with her." Daniel struggled to keep his voice quiet, not to shout, not to lunge again at that infuriatingly calm figure.

"Very well." El-Yafe turned to the healer. "It is permitted?"

The healer's face was flushed and his eyes darted between Daniel and el-Yafe. He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, but only briefly. El-Rydal Effendi must rest."

An attendant was dispatched, and Daniel leaned back against the pillows. His stomach roiled, and when he lifted his hand, it shook. He quickly let it fall onto the blanket.

El-Yafe took a wary step toward him. "It was her own decision, Effendi." His voice was soft. "I did not coerce her."

Daniel coldly met his eyes. "We shall see," was all he said.

There was a pause. The scribe looked at Daniel and picked up the document from where it had fallen on the floor. "Effendi? Would you still-"

His voice startled Daniel, and he glanced at the heavy parchment, then at Casey. "Yes. Of course." He glared at the scribe. "Is there no one else?"

The scribe shook his head apologetically. "No, Effendi. The others..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged.

"It seems that necessity requires that I be beholden to you, el-Yafe Effendi." Daniel took a deep breath. Casey. He was doing this for Casey. "I apologize for my outburst."

"No apology is necessary. I have, after all, provoked your displeasure." El-Yafe bowed formally. "How may I assist you?"

Daniel motioned to the scribe and he placed the parchment on Daniel's lap. Handing him a pen already charged with ink, the scribe stepped back. Daniel gripped the pen awkwardly, gritting his teeth against the pain shooting through his arm. "I place my signature, freely given, on this document." Pinching his lips together tightly, he signed the parchment. He did not look at Casey. He did not want to see joy light Casey's face. Not when his heart was being sundered in two.

The scribe carefully took the pen from his shaking fingers, and then placed the parchment on the low table. El-Yafe knelt on a cushion and held out his hand for the pen. His eyes skimmed over the document and he gasped, turning so quickly that his sleeve brushed the parchment, threatening to send it to the floor again.

"You-" he choked out, eyes wide with surprise. "You are freeing him?"

Daniel nodded, his throat suddenly too tight for speech.

El-Yafe's gaze slid from Daniel's face and his eyes narrowed. "It is true, Herra Kyösti?"

"Yes," Casey said softly. "It is true."

Daniel glanced at him, startled at his pale face and tight mouth. Wrenching his eyes back to el-Yafe, Daniel raised his chin. "Will you sign, Effendi?" His voice was harsh.

"Yes." El-Yafe nodded once, his face solemn. "Oh, yes. I shall sign." He leaned over the table and placed his signature beneath Daniel's. Daniel rubbed his chest, trying to ease the hot, hard knot that checked his breath and prevented him from swallowing.

It was almost done.

The scribe sanded the signatures, then blew on them until the ink was dry. He carefully rolled up the parchment and handed it to Daniel with a flourish. "You may finish the manumission, Effendi."

Daniel took the parchment, willing his hand steady. Before he could turn to Casey, a small figure appeared in the doorway.

"Uncle Isak? You wish to see-" She gasped, her hand going to her mouth. "Husband!" And she turned to flee.

"Aloise!" The attendant grasped her arm and she twisted her head around, her face drained of all color. "Aloise, come here." El-Yafe held out his hand.

With an audible swallow, she straightened her thin shoulders and walked firmly over to el-Yafe. "Has he..." She darted a glance at Daniel, and the fear on her face made him blench. "Has my husband come for me?" Her flat voice quavered on the last word.

El-Yafe rested a hand on her shoulder and looked solemn. "My dear child, el- Rydal Effendi wishes to speak to you. Be a good girl and answer his questions."

She nodded and slowly turned to Daniel. Curtseying, she walked slowly to the side of his bed, only her eyes betraying her nervousness. "May Allah bless you, husband."

"And you, little one." Daniel tried to smile a little, just to ease the tension in her. "I am very glad that you are well and unharmed." He held out his hand and she stared at it for a moment before slipping her small fingers into his clasp. She gave him a tentative smile, and his chest ached. He glanced at el-Yafe and bit back the anger that rose in a black wave. "I was worried when I heard you had left. Tell me the truth, my wife." He squeezed her fingers lightly and she relaxed further. "Why did you leave? Were you so unhappy with me?"

She blushed and shook her head, her eyes falling. "No. You did not make me unhappy." Dimpling suddenly, she quickly smoothed the smile from her lips. "But my brother asked me-"

"Your brother?" Daniel glanced at el-Yafe. "I was told your brother had died..."

"No, he is alive," she replied, a smile lighting her face. "Uncle Isak found him and-"

"Found him?"

"Child," interrupted el-Yafe, gently touching her shoulder. She turned to him, frowning. "I will explain all this to el-Rydal Effendi. Answer his question, please."

"His question? Oh!" She chewed absently on her lower lip for a moment. "I left because I was lonely."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, nodding. Yes. Lonely. A child isolated by her age and her deafness. He could understand that. "And when your brother asked you..." He squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"When he asked me if I wanted to return home with him," her voice caught and she blinked twice, "I wanted to go home. I miss my home."

"But you are my wife," he replied gently. "We were making our own home."

She shook her head, a quick, definite no, and glanced across the bed. "Not with me. With Casey."

Oh, merciful Allah...

His face grew warm, but he forced himself to meet her eyes. "No, my dear. With you." He lifted her hand and pressed it to the side of his face. "Casey is a free man now, and will not stay with me." He heard a faint noise, a soft intake of air, behind him, but he ignored it. It was true. Casey was a free man. Casey was his own man. Not his, not Daniel's. Not anymore.

Aloise's eyes shone with tears, and her hand moved restlessly in his. "I want to go home, Daniel," she whispered. "My brother loves me."

"As do I," he said softly.

Her head moved from side to side. "As your sister, but not as your wife." Her voice was thick, and she looked up. Daniel did not need to turn to know who she was looking at. He took a shuddering breath, and before he could speak, she bowed her head. "Please let me go..."

By the Five, he was tired, in his body and his mind. Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded and closed his eyes. "Go, then, child." And he released her hand.

"Effendi, you must rest." The healer's voice was sharp.

Soft lips brushed his cheek and were gone. He heard el-Yafe's quiet questions, and the healer's assurances that he could visit later. He remained unmoving as cool, dry fingers clasped his wrist and held it steady for a few moments. But when the healer tried to slip the parchment from his other hand, he opened his eyes.

"No."

The healer frowned. "You can do this later, Effendi."

"No. I have already delayed too long." He turned his head - Casey stood against the far wall, pale and solemn. "It must be finished now."

Casey approached slowly, a wary look in his eyes. Daniel tried to find enough moisture in his mouth to speak, to say the words he had promised to say. To release the man who meant more to him than wife, family, home...

His held up the rolled parchment and his eyes met Casey's. "From this day on, you are a free man, and your children and grandchildren shall be free. You are released from my service, and I make no further claim upon you." His voice broke, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. When he opened them, his lashes glistened. "Go then, Casey Makall. May Allah rain blessings upon you and yours." He held out the parchment. It rustled, but he could not still the trembling of his hand.

Casey took it without a word, his eyes dark, his lips pressed tightly together. He stepped back, pressing the roll of parchment to his chest, and turned.

Daniel closed his eyes and lay back against the pillows. He felt hollow, empty, as if some ghostly surgeon had laid open his chest and removed all that had made him human. He lay still, wondering how he could live without lungs and heart.

He had never imagined such pain.

Daniel obediently drank the bitter liquid pressed upon him by the healer, and the pain dulled as he drifted to sleep.

When he woke, shadows shifted across the walls as the oil lamps flickered. The door to his room closed gently, and the flames danced in the draught. He turned his head, expecting the healer, and was surprised to see el-Yafe's slave stealing forward, his slippered feet almost noiseless on the stone floor.

The slave checked his steps when he noticed Daniel's eyes on him, and he ducked his head and the tips of his ears flushed.

"Yes?" Daniel rasped, his throat as dry as dust. "Does your master wish to speak with me?"

"No, Effendi." The words were muffled.

"Then what are you doing here?" It was hard to swallow, and he stretched his arm toward the table, where a pitcher and cup sat. The slave hurried forward and poured water into the cup, holding it while Daniel drank thirstily.

Only when he had replaced the cup on the table and stepped back did he reply.

"I came to thank you."

Daniel's eyes drifted closed, but he forced them open and frowned, squinting slightly. "Thank me? Why?"

He shifted his weight uneasily, and Daniel suddenly noticed that he was not wearing a slave tunic. Instead, he was clad in decent trousers and a shirt, with embroidered slippers on his feet.

"For allowing my sister to return home with me."

Daniel stared.

"You? You're her..." His voice trailed off and he gaped.

He nodded. "Yes. I am her brother, Jaremiah ben Ghaduin."

"But-" Daniel's mouth snapped shut, and he nodded. "We were told you were dead."

Jarem's lips pressed together and he snorted. "No, not dead. Although I would have been if Isak el-Yafe had not happened upon me and sheltered me for a time."

Daniel slowly shook his head. It was incredible. Unbelievable. And yet...

"Your stepfather was reportedly inconsolable at your death." He raised his eyebrows.

Jarem chuckled without humor. "My stepfather is the one who wished me dead. Fortunately, I received word of his plot and fled. Unfortunately, I was captured by slavers and sold."

"Not to el-Yafe, certainly." Daniel remembered something el-Yafe had said about finding his- about finding ben Ghaduin along the roadside...

"No. To a- well, that is not important. We were on our way to the market in Dair al Abussia when the horse became ill. My master," he hesitated and his face reddened, "that is, the man to whom I was sold - started beating the poor creature. Isak happened along the road. He had two horses, and my master was happy to trade me for one. Isak fed me and cared for me until my... injuries had healed."

Daniel nodded. "And you stayed with him, ostensibly as his slave, to remain in hiding." It was a sensible decision, and the shame of his time as a slave would not matter to his people if he could regain power.

"Yes. It is not something of which I am proud, but my stepfather seemed to be firmly entrenched. I hoped..." He sighed and lifted his shoulders. "I hoped for many things, but especially to find my sister and return home to assert my rightful claim."

"And the fact that your stepfather is having difficulty maintaining the loyalty of the nobles will certainly help your cause."

Flashing him a smile, Jarem nodded. "I hope so."

"As will the presence of a noble wife," Daniel said drily.

Jarem's face flushed, but he met Daniel's eyes steadily. "Yes. That will help as well."

Daniel sighed. "I know I should swear vengeance on you for the double insult to my family, but," he said, his voice bitter, "at the moment I am as much an outcast as you, and I cannot find it in me to battle for those who would believe the worst of me."

"We will be gone in the morning," Jarem replied softly. "When the truth is known and you are welcomed back by your father, you can say that you did not encounter us."

"I shall not lie. I know how unhappy N'tale was in my father's household. I hope she will have a good life with you."

"I will try to make it so."

"Good." Daniel raised his hand. "Promise me one thing, my lord."

"If I can."

"Keep Aloise safe, and let her be happy," he said softly. "For all her youth, she was a good wife."

Jarem bowed his head. "That I can promise you." He stepped back and then paused. "She does love you, you know. I expect she always will."

Daniel's mouth twisted. "And I her. Thank you for your assurance."

"It is the least I could do." Jarem hesitated again. "I heard that you have freed-"

"Yes." Daniel bit off the word. "He has business in the east. Please allow him to travel with you when you leave in the morning." He closed his eyes.

"Travel with us?" Jarem sounded surprised. "Well, we shall see what the morning brings. Thank you, Effendi, for your understanding and good wishes. Farewell."

"Allah's blessings," Daniel said, but he did not open his eyes. The door closed quietly.

It was a long time before he slept. Images of Aloise, shy and sweet, of N'tale, hiding her kindness beneath a brusque manner, of Jarem, keenly intelligent, sitting at el-Yafe's knee, kept whirling through his tired brain. The sky outside his window was beginning to hint at the coming of dawn before he felt himself dragged back down into sleep.

A cool hand brushed his cheek and he stirred. It caressed him again, and he fought against the rising tide of wakefulness.

"Daniel." The voice was soft, but insistent. "Daniel, please."

The plea roused him and he rubbed his tired eyes hard before forcing them open. N'tale's pale face looked down upon him, a tentative smile on her lips.

"I am sorry to wake you," she whispered, stroking his forehead and smoothing the blanket across his chest. "But we are leaving in a few moments, and I had to thank you."

He blinked, his head muzzy from sleep. "Thank me? For what?"

Her face lit up in a broad smile and she cupped his cheek. "For releasing Aloise. For not swearing vengeance upon Jarem or me. For standing up to your father."

He snorted. "I will take credit for the first two, but as for the latter..." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "My father chose to believe the worst of me. I only left because if I had not, I would probably be dead now."

Nodding gravely, she stroked his cheek. "Your father is a good man, but he only sees what he wishes to see. You, however, are destined-" She broke off abruptly. "I hope the truth of the matter will be revealed soon, so that you can gain your rightful place."

His rightful place. He closed his eyes, struggling to draw breath. Oh yes, he had a rightful place, but when he returned the joy of that reunion would be as bitter as ashes in his mouth. He would be alone. No wife, no-

He quickly turned from that thought.

"Take care of her," he murmured, raising his hand and resting it on hers. "Keep her safe. Let her be happy. And if she thinks of me, remind her that I did love her."

"I know." N'tale kissed him on the forehead and stepped back, her hand pulling free of his. "And now you must rest. Allah's blessings on you, Son Daniel. Remember us with kindness and an open heart."

She was gone.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut. They were leaving in a few moments, their mounts were already saddled and ready for the journey. N'tale would ride with Jarem, Aloise with el-Yafe. And there would be another horse, with a single rider. Casey would join them, travel with them for a day, perhaps two, until he had to take the road to Zaheira to rescue his son.

Daniel forced himself to breathe evenly, until the burning in his chest eased. Then he began to plan. He must send a messenger to Dauid. He must rest and heal, and decide where to stay while he awaited word from his cousin. He must find another attendant, at least while he recovered from his injuries, since he could not impose on the brothers for much longer. He must...

His throat tightened and his chest ached. With a low moan, he wrapped his arms around his belly and turned his head into his pillow, stifling the sobs that shook his body and soul.

He had finished crying and had dried his face by the time the healer appeared in the doorway. His eyes felt swollen and hot, burning as much from lack of sleep as his earlier breakdown, but he acknowledged the healer calmly.

"I must send a message," he said as the healer took his pulse. "I shall require the scribe and a messenger."

"Of course." The healer frowned as he looked at Daniel's face, but he did not comment further. "I shall send them to you immediately after you have washed and breakfasted."

"Thank you. I am feeling better, and will not need your services after today." It was not quite a lie, nor was it the truth, but it answered his purposes. "But I know I cannot travel for several days yet. Is there a place nearby where I can stay?"

The healer nodded, folding his hands. "There is a guest house immediately outside our walls. All are welcome there, for as long as necessary."

"Good." Daniel lowered his eyes and pressed his lips together. Control. He could think it, say it, calmly and dispassionately. He must. He cleared his throat. "And I shall require an attendant, until I am well enough to care for myself. Surely there are-"

"An attendant?" the healer repeated, looking confused. "Why do you wish for another?"

Daniel's dry throat worked and he struggled for breath. Why was this so damned difficult? "He does not need much training. My needs are simple, and-" He broke off, staring.

The healer turned and nodded, gesturing at the table. "You may help him wash first," he said. "And I will have his breakfast sent up."

"Casey?" Daniel's voice shook, and he clamped his lips tightly shut.

Casey, dressed in a long shirt and gathered trousers, his hair pulled back into a thick braid, put down the steaming ewer on the bedside table and looked up, his eyes widening. "Didn't you sleep well? Were you in pain?" He leaned over the bed with a frown, his eyes flickering over Daniel's face.

"No, no..." Daniel shook his head, and his hand rose of its own accord, hovering a hair's breadth from Casey's cheek before falling to the blankets. His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. "You are supposed to be with el-Yafe."

Casey jerked back and glared at him. "Why am I supposed to be with el-Yafe?"

"Because you are free!" Daniel gestured wildly. "Because you must go to your son. Because you want to..." He flopped back into the pillows and closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened. He would not succumb, he would not think about why Casey had stayed.

"Yes, I am free," Casey replied, his words clipped. Water gurgled and splashed. "And I will go to my son. Soon. As for my wants... I am perfectly capable of deciding those myself."

A warm, wet cloth ran gently over Daniel's face, and he hesitated, choosing his words with care. The water felt good, the cloth clearing the salt tracks of his tears, soothing the swollen tissues around his eyes. "I apologize for my presumption. I thought you would want to leave as soon as possible."

The sound of Casey's swallow was loud in the still room. "Accepted," Casey replied quietly. "As for my leaving… I have waited this long. A few more days will not matter."

Daniel nodded. He allowed Casey to wipe his arms, wincing slightly as the bandage was carefully removed and his wound cleaned. He kept his eyes closed, however. He was not entirely sure he could maintain control if he had to look at Casey. His torso was uncovered and bathed, and the wound examined. Finally, his legs were washed, and the injury to his thigh probed and muttered over. Only when he was dried and covered did he dare open his eyes.

"You are healing well," the healer pronounced, a smile curving his thin lips. "If you continue as well tomorrow, you can move to the guest house, with Casey to attend you."

Daniel glanced at Casey, who had gathered the towels and slop bowl, and was disappearing around the corner. "I shall not need the scribe," he said softly. "Just paper and pen, and the messenger."

"You cannot write yourself," began the healer.

"No. Casey will write it for me."

The healer's eyebrows rose, and he glanced at Casey, who had returned empty- handed. "Very well. I shall send up your breakfast first." He closed the door behind him.

Daniel stared at the whitewashed wall. He did not know what to say, even if he could force words through his dry throat. He heard the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor.

"El-Yafe Effendi believes that Prince ben Ghaduin will win the support of the nobles," Casey said softly. There was a creak as he sat down on the chair. "And that he will defeat his stepfather."

Daniel nodded, still staring at the wall. "I am glad to hear that. He is a good man."

"As are you. He told me of your understanding and generosity."

With a snort, Daniel shook his head. He squinted at the mortared stones around the window. "This was very little understanding and no generosity in my response. Merely practicality. What could I, injured and outcast, do to prevent them from leaving? I was simply maintaining my dignity, saving face."

"You made many people happy," Casey murmured. "The Prince, his sister, his soon-to-be wife, me..."

The stones blurred, and he blinked impatiently. "While betraying my father's name and sullying my family's honor." There was a knock at the door, and he glanced over as Casey crossed the room with a tray.

They did not speak as he ate, forcing down the food despite his tight throat and churning belly. Only silence allowed him to maintain his tenuous hold on calm, and he barely looked at Casey throughout the meal.

The healer kept his promise and sent up paper and pen after breakfast. It did not take long to compose a letter to Dauid, informing him where he would be staying for the next week. He did not mention meeting el-Yafe, Aloise, ben Ghaduin or N'tale, but he included a brief mention of Guord, and urged Dauid to investigate his dealings with Zaeve, Salaeh, and Shaul. The messenger left with the letter, promising to place it only into Dauid's hand.

"Three days hard ride there, and three to return," he muttered as the man clattered down the stairs.

"Enough time for the worst of your injuries to heal." Casey spoke matter-of- factly. "If the news is good, you could return within a fortnight."

And you? Would you return with me? Daniel wanted to ask, but he knew the answer. He shrugged. "Inshallah. It is as Allah wills."

Casey frowned but did not reply, and Daniel settled back into the pillows, pretending to sleep.

The next day, leaning heavily on Casey, he walked to the guest house. Collapsing onto the bed, Daniel cursed his weakness, but the healer assured him that he was over the worst and would recover quickly. He hoped so. Being around Casey was damnably difficult. Having to guard his words and touches, never presuming, continuously aware that it was Casey's choice to be with him, when it would be so easy for him to be elsewhere.

But he was with him. That knowledge was enough to warm a small portion of Daniel's heart, and he hoarded that warmth.

The days passed quickly, and Daniel was pleased when, on the fifth day, he did not need an afternoon nap. Casey had returned at dusk - he had settled Daniel in the sheltered courtyard after luncheon, and then disappeared into the monastery's library, which he had discovered his second day there. Usually he went while Daniel napped, but Daniel did not dare ask him to stay with him, instead. It was Casey's choice...

He had been watching the shadows climb the walls of the monastery and was thinking about returning to their rooms when Casey dashed into the courtyard, panting.

"I am so sorry, Daniel," he gasped, his hand pressing hard against his side. "I found a copy of-" He broke off as Daniel pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his arm and helping him to rise. "Wait, wait, I will help you."

Daniel gently brushed his hands aside. "I can do it," he said. "You should have stayed."

With a laugh, Casey gathered up the blanket and hovered close as Daniel walked slowly over the sun-warmed stones. "The light had gone," he said, his hand ready to offer support. "And I have too much respect for my eyesight to read by lamplight."

"A good policy." Daniel smiled, returning Casey's grin unselfconsciously. "What did you find?"

"Oh!" Casey looked bemused. "A copy of the 'Liber Oraculum.' I never expected that, thought it would be considered... blasphemous." He snorted, and said half to himself, "Probably is. They probably don't even know it's there. It was in a corner, underneath a stack of memoirs from the time of the Western wars."

"'Liber Oraculum?'" Daniel twisted his tongue around the strange words. He waited until Casey opened the door to their rooms and stepped carefully over the threshold into the dim room. "What is that?"

"Just a book," Casey replied, a shade too nonchalant. Daniel's ears pricked. "I wasn't expecting to see it here, that's all."

Lowering himself carefully onto the couch, Daniel glanced up at Casey's flushed face. "Where have you seen it before?"

There was a pause. "I don't remember." The lie hung in the air for a moment. Then Casey returned the blanket to Daniel's bed and moved around the room, lighting oil lamps. Daniel could practically see his excitement shimmering in the air around him, but he would not speak of the book further, even when Daniel asked him flat out what it was about.

Dinner would arrive soon, and Daniel steeled himself. He had made his decision that afternoon, and he would remain true to his choice.

"Casey, what about your son?"

It was as if he had doused a crackling flame. Casey stilled, shoulders drooping, and bowed his head. "What of him?" His voice was hoarse.

Daniel wished he had water, coffee, anything to moisten his parched mouth. "I am healed enough to care for myself," he said carefully. "The messenger should arrive within the next few days. I will return home as soon as Dauid says it is safe. You should go for him."

Casey turned away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "I thought." His voice caught. "I thought you would... come with me."

Daniel sighed. "I must return home. My father will need my help, after... everything. And it will be necessary for me to take another..." His voice trailed off. He did not wish to take another wife. He did not wish to leave Casey. But he had no choice.

"Wife," Casey finished bleakly. "You could always take another slave in the meantime."

"No!" His own vehemence startled Daniel. "No," he repeated more calmly, "I will not do that, not after-" He cleared his throat. "I will give you the money I have. That should be sufficient for you to buy back your son and travel to the border. I do not know how difficult it will be to cross it, but I know of a place where you can get a map-"

"I have money," Casey interrupted, his voice harsh. "From El-Yafe Effendi. I do not need... payment for staying with you."

"Payment?" Daniel was startled. "It isn't- I did not mean-" Casey's words finally sank in, and Daniel flushed hotly. "You, of all people, should understand why I made the offer," he snapped.

Casey turned and looked at him steadily, his solemn face pale in the lamplight. "I do," he finally said, his voice soft. "And I honor you for it."

Ignoring the prick of pain beneath his breastbone, Daniel forced himself to continue. "Then you understand why I ask about your plans for your son. You must go for him. Tomorrow."

Casey lifted his chin and opened his mouth, then closed it quickly. He nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow."

"Good."

He had done what he had intended to do, and now he would have to pay the price.

He lay awake, although it was late and he was exhausted. His injuries throbbed dully. Casey was leaving in the morning. Daniel closed his eyes and rubbed them hard, relishing the gritty ache and swirling colors behind the lids. He twisted on the bed, cursing softly as the crumpled sheets tangled around his legs and feet. He could not get comfortable.

A movement in the shadows at the doorway drew his attention.

"Casey?"

"Yes. Can't you sleep? Does your leg hurt?" A pale shape approached the bed.

His leg? He almost laughed. "A little. It will pass." He squinted into the gloom. "Why are you awake?"

"A call of nature," was the quiet reply. "Can I get you something? Water? Tea? Something to ease the pain?"

He did laugh at that. Oh yes, Casey could give him something to ease his pain, but it was not an herb that the healer would provide. "No," he said, and turned onto his side, his back to Casey. A man could only endure so much before he would topple and shatter.

"Daniel." The hand on his shoulder was gentle, and he choked back a groan of pleasure at that simple touch. "Daniel, please, before I go..."

The hand smoothed down his arm, raising goosebumps on his flesh. He turned his face into the pillow, but he did not push Casey away. Warm fingers caressed his neck and shoulders, warm lips brushed his temple and pressed against the outer corner of his eye.

"Please, Daniel." Voice husky, hands trembling, Casey knelt behind him on the bed. "Fill my body one last time, master. Please."

With a low cry he twisted around, his arms encircling the body beside him. He tugged Casey down on top of him. Settling carefully, Casey's elbows and knees took most of his weight. Daniel lifted his face, mouth open, and Casey dove in for a kiss.

Lips and tongues were demanding, insistent. Daniel held Casey's skull cupped in his hands and wordlessly expressed his pain, fear and longing, possessing and being possessed. His groin warmed, his cock stirring at the heat and pressure, and his hands scrabbled at Casey's robe. Flesh. He wanted to feel it beneath his fingers, against his own skin.

Groaning, Casey wriggled and lifted slightly as he pulled the thin fabric up and over his head. Daniel's hands slid down his back, cupping his ass and pressing him tightly against his groin. The feel of Casey's hard, slick cock against his own made him dizzy with lust and longing and, oh, Allah, yes, he stumbled over the admission, with love.

Casey's thighs tightened around his hips and he rocked hard against Daniel, a driving, desperate rhythm. "In me, in me," he muttered, kissing and nipping at Daniel's jaw.

The words, the thought, almost tumbled him over the edge, but Daniel's hands clamped on Casey's hips and stilled his movement.

"Get the ointment from the table," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

Panting heavily, Casey scrambled off him and lunged for the table. In a heartbeat he was back, kneeling beside Daniel, the pot of ointment in his hand.

He opened the pot and guided Daniel's fingers into it, then dropped it to the floor and slipped off the bed. Turning away, he spread his legs and tilted his hips. "Quickly!" Casey reached back and spread his ass, bending over to expose himself completely to Daniel's gaze.

Daniel could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his vision swam. Quickly, quickly. He reached out and plunged two fingers into Casey, who bit back a scream and spread himself wider. Twisting his hand to spread the ointment, Daniel could not take his eyes from the sight of his fingers deep inside Casey.

He jerked them out and lay back, ignoring Casey's whimper and grunt. "Now," he ordered hoarsely, sliding his hand quickly down the length of his erection and then reaching for Casey.

Casey swung around and clambered onto the bed, straddling Daniel's hips. He leaned down and kissed Daniel hard, making his lips sting. Then he raised himself and rocked back - Daniel groaned as his cock slid greasily between the cheeks of Casey's ass.

Before he could do more than groan again, Casey had lifted his hips and reached back, guiding Daniel's cock into him, biting back a heartfelt curse. Daniel did not dare move. Casey panted, body tense, thighs trembling, with Daniel's cock barely inside. Daniel ran his hands up those quivering thighs, soothing, caressing.

"Relax," he murmured. "Open to me. Let me in." Casey's hand blindly searched for his and grabbed it, fingers almost painfully tight. "Relax, Casey. You know how to do this. Let me in."

Casey rocked once and Daniel bit his tongue, trying not to scream. So hot, so tight, so good. Where he should be, where he belonged. Another rock, and Casey sank farther onto Daniel's cock. With his free hand, Daniel stroked Casey's chest, then slid his fingers to cup Casey's rigid cock.

A gasp from Casey, a groan from Daniel, and Casey was sitting on Daniel's hips, Daniel's full length buried inside him. He paused for a moment, their harsh breaths sounding in syncopation, then the rhythm shifted, stuttered, and finally resumed, together.

Casey's bruising grip eased, and his chest rose and fell in a huge, shuddering sigh. He muttered something Daniel could not understand and then began to move.

Starting slowly, Casey quickly set a grueling pace as he rose and fell, Daniel's cock sliding smoothly into him. Daniel reached for him, trying to slow him down, knowing that he would not last long, but Casey's hips, slick with sweat, slipped from his fingers. He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat and pressure welled in his groin, spreading tendrils up his back and down his thighs. Not much longer.

Daniel wrapped his hand around Casey's cock and pumped him ruthlessly. With a strangled cry, Casey shivered and threw his head back, his hips jerking. Spots of heat splattered Daniel's stomach and chest, and Casey grunted and fell forward onto his hands, which landed on the bed above Daniel's shoulders. He leaned down and kissed Daniel as he continued to slam his hips against Daniel. Once, twice, and then Daniel bit the tongue in his mouth and bucked up, thrusting so deep that Casey's cock thickened and spurted again.

He did not want it to end, did not want to leave Casey and become separate, alone, again, but after he tugged Casey down onto his sticky chest and held him there, after Casey kissed his neck and bit his collarbone and squeezed him back, after their breathing slowed, his cock slowly softened and he slid from Casey's body with a groan and a shiver.

"No," he whispered, as Casey tried to roll to the side. But he soon had to let him go, to ease the ache in arm and ribs and thigh. Casey rolled onto his stomach beside him, arms crossed beneath his head, legs spread. Daniel settled onto his side and licked Casey's shoulder, sinking his teeth into the firm muscle there and kissing the rough mark of his brand. Casey sighed and wriggled, but did not move.

Daniel dragged his lips against Casey's biceps and stroked his back, smiling as Casey shifted his hips and spread his legs farther in invitation. Cupping each cheek briefly, Daniel slipped his fingers between them and rubbed Casey's slippery hole. A sigh encouraged him, and he carefully slid a finger inside, stroking gently.

"More," came the whispered request. He added a second finger, twisting them slightly, mindful of the tender muscle. Casey let out a strangled moan and his body quivered.

"More."

The third finger went in without any resistance. Casey lifted his hips slightly and grabbed a pillow, shoving it beneath him. He was panting, but not from pain. Daniel moved his hand and kissed Casey's arm and shoulder, hardly daring to breathe.

"More." It was not a request.

"It's too much," Daniel said regretfully. "I'll hurt you."

"No, you won't." Casey's voice was muffled, but he spoke with assurance. His hips canted up. "More!"

Daniel had barely slid the fourth finger inside him when Casey lifted his head and stared at him. He face was relaxed, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure. "Your hand, Daniel. Give me your hand."

Daniel stared at him, horrified. He began to pull out his fingers, but Casey's arm whipped around and he held Daniel's hand tightly to him.

"I want it," he whispered harshly. "I want to know what it's like when you do it. Please!"

"I..." Daniel swallowed and his hand shook. "I can't, Casey. He hurt you! I can't do that."

Casey clenched around Daniel's fingers and then relaxed. "Yes, you can. Give me this before I go, master. Let me know what it's like when done with..." His voice quavered, and he cleared his throat. "Affection."

Affection. Oh, by all that is holy, if he only knew. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get his gasping breath under control. Casey wanted this. Casey asked him for it. A last request. He could do this.

"Tell me if it is too much," he said, shifting slightly to give his hand a better angle.

"It won't be."

Carefully Daniel positioned his thumb and pushed forward. Casey sucked in a shuddering breath, but he did not tighten, and Daniel's fingers slid in to the knuckle. Another push and a gasp from Casey, and one knuckle slipped inside, rubbing hard against the taut muscle. Each knuckle elicited another gasp from Casey, but he remained open and relaxed.

When the widest part of his hand stretched the muscle tightly, Daniel gently pushed forward and Casey groaned as the pressure lessened. Daniel panted and kissed Casey's back. Muscles fluttered around his hand as Casey shifted, moving to his knees, his face pressed against the mattress.

"Am I hurting you?" he whispered.

"No." It was a groan, a promise, a prayer. "Move."

Taking a steadying breath, Daniel opened his fingers and twisted his arm. Casey groaned and raised his head, his eyes almost closed, his expression blissful. Sighing, Daniel kissed his hip and turned his arm the other direction, then slowly, so slowly, began to pull his hand out.

"No..." Casey moaned and shivered.

"Yes." Daniel continued to withdraw his hand, his own cock stirring at the sight of Casey's stretched hole. When his hand pulled free, Casey let out a whimper and slid flat, his hips moving restlessly. Daniel gently rubbed the loose muscle as it fluttered and gradually tightened, kissing Casey's back and ass.

With a gusty sigh, Casey rolled to his side, facing Daniel. His lips curved in a sleepy smile, and he slowly lifted his hand and ran his fingertips over Daniel's lips. "You have given me..." He shook his head and leaned forward, brushing his lips over Daniel's. "Kaksonen sielu," he whispered, sliding close and closing his eyes.

Daniel draped his arm over Casey and held him gently. How could he part from this man? How could he bid farewell to the man who held his heart, who was half his soul? He loved Casey, Allah help him, and in the morning he would have to watch him leave.

Daniel watched the sleeping man beside him and prayed that the sun would not rise.

Daniel thought he would never close his eyes, never miss a moment of looking at Casey as he slept. At some time during the night his lids grew heavy, however, and he awoke alone.

"Casey?" He stirred and called out, stretching languidly, enjoying the slight ache in his healing muscles.

Silence.

"Casey?" Daniel sat up and rubbed his eyes. The sun poured in through the uncurtained windows, warming the tile floor. Dust motes sparkled in the bright column of light. He blinked and looked around.

"Casey!"

Leaping from the bed, Daniel winced and staggered, catching himself on the footboard. His ribs and thigh burned. He ignored the pain.

Casey was gone.

Daniel dashed into the other room. The shelves had been cleared of the few pieces of clothing Casey had possessed. He ran to the door and flung it open, belatedly remembering his own nakedness as he squinted in the blinding sunlight. He stepped back and closed the door, passing a shaking hand over his eyes.

Control. He must regain control.

His injured leg quivered and threatened to give way. He staggered to the couch and dropped heavily onto the cushions. Wasn't this what he wished? Didn't he tell Casey to leave this morning? Didn't he drive him away?

His breath caught in his lungs and he doubled over as pain sliced through his chest. Casey was gone, and it was his own fault.

He sat there for a long time. It took all his energy just to draw a shaky breath, one after another. Finally, a knock on the door disturbed him.

"Come," he said hoarsely.

The door opened and a young servant entered, carrying a jug of warm water, followed by another, carrying a covered tray.

"Your breakfast and wash water, Effendi," the young man murmured, and his eyes fell on Daniel. "Effendi! Are you ill?" He set down the jug and hurried to Daniel.

Daniel shook his head. "A momentary weakness," he said, but when he tried to rise, he staggered and would have fallen if the servant hadn't clasped his arm in a strong grip.

"Allow me to assist you."

Daniel grudgingly gave in and let the servant help him as he washed and dressed. His breakfast was laid out on the table when he was finished, and he dismissed the servants with a brusque nod. He wanted to be alone.

He picked at his food, however, and stared moodily around the small chamber. Casey was gone. He would have to accept that. His stomach lurched, and he stumbled to the privy before emptying it of what little food he had managed to choke down.

He lay down for a while and soon felt stronger. When the servants came to retrieve his tray, he asked for directions to the stables. They were as tidy and well-kept as the rest of the monastery. Zeina was comfortably housed, and Daniel leaned against his stall door to catch his breath and rest his leg. Zeina whickered and nudged his shoulder, and he gently stroked the horse's nose, murmuring apologies for not visiting sooner.

One of the brothers strode briskly down the center aisle and nodded to him.

"May the blessings of Allah be with you, Effendi." With a smile, he reached up and scratched between Zeina's ears. "This one's a beauty," he said. "The boys constantly argue about who will take him out for exercise."

Daniel chuckled. "We've been companions for a long time, and he's never let me down." The brother looked shocked at the very idea, and Daniel hurried on. "A man left this morning on a bay mare," he began.

"Yes," the brother interrupted. "The northerner."

Daniel nodded and kept his eyes on Zeina, stroking the glossy neck. "Yes. He was going to Zaheira, but he is a stranger to these parts, and I am worried that he will lose his way."

"Do not fear. I gave him directions and the names of the best places to stay along his journey. It is a safe route, even for a man traveling alone, and he will have fine weather to speed his journey."

Daniel nodded. That was that. Casey was gone. His throat burned as he tried to swallow, and he could not trust himself to speak. After a minute or two, the brother gave Zeina a slap on the shoulder and nodded to Daniel. "Excuse me, Effendi. My duties..." He hurried away.

With a sigh, Daniel left the stables and stood, irresolute, in the sheltered courtyard. He was still too weak to take much exercise, but he was too full of nervous energy to nap or sit in the sunshine like an old man.

The library.

Casey had spoken highly of it, and perhaps it might contain something that would capture his attention for a while.

The library was not difficult to find, and the librarian welcomed him warmly, bidding him browse to his heart's content when Daniel admitted that he had nothing specific in mind. The library itself was a warren of small rooms, high- ceilinged and well lit, and he wandered amongst the tables, scanning the manuscripts and scrolls and bound books that littered the table tops and shelves. History, philosophy, mathematics, religion... Nothing suited, nothing captured his interest for more than a brief moment.

He had made his way into the farthest chamber, where a single table stood in the center of the room. Shelves lined the walls, stacked higgledy-piggeldy, and a large, leather-bound book lay on the table, almost buried in a sheaf of loose manuscript pages.

Daniel idly opened the book and frowned. He could not read the barbaric characters on the page, and he turned several more pages. They contained still more of those strange characters, so awkward and uncouth.

With a start, he remembered Casey's excitement over finding a book... What was the name? Lib? Libe something? He shook his head. No, he could not remember. But Casey had been excited by his discovery, and Daniel thoughtfully traced a character with his finger. It was curved, an open circle, like a waning moon. He pulled up a heavy chair and sat. It was possible that this was the book that had caused Casey's excitement, and that Casey could make sense of these characters, could read the words they composed.

Daniel continued to turn over the pages filled with those strange, spiky symbols, squinting at them as if he were on the verge of understanding, as if by sheer willpower he could bring the words into focus. Several blank pages appeared about half way through the book, and when the writing resumed, the symbols looked different from those that had gone before. Little drawings appeared in the margins, loose sketches of a tree, an unfamiliar bird, a fish. Daniel smiled. There was a drawing of a cat, crouched to spring, greedily watching a mouse peeping out from a clump of grass. A stocky, strangely shaggy pony galloped over a barren landscape, and in the sketch below, the pony stood on a flat rock, head down, drinking from a rushing stream.

The drawings were charming. Daniel turned the page, his smile broadening. A spotted dog lolled on its side, asleep in front of a fire, so lifelike that Daniel could practically see its legs twitching as it dreamed. Another dog chased a ragged sheep, and a lamb gamboled, long legs endearingly awkward, in an open field. A cluster of odd little houses stood beneath a tall tree, their peaked roofs covered in reeds or straw woven in complex patterns. He turned the page and his smile faded.

There were drawings of people.

A fat baby kicked its legs and reached up with clenched fists, face alight with pleasure. An old lady sat on a bench, her knitting on her lap, dozing in the sunlight. A young man with fair hair and a long jaw stooped beneath his burden of firewood.

By the Five... He glanced around uneasily. He should shut the book and report the existence of these pictures to the librarian; the injunction against drawing human likenesses was clear. It was blasphemy, unclean to contemplate them. Daniel began to close the book, but he hesitated, his eye caught by the sketch at the bottom of the page.

A dark-haired man, dressed in heavy, embroidered robes, stood looking down. At his feet knelt another man, his hands pinned behind his back, naked except for a piece of cloth wrapped around his lean hips. Thick, straight, fair hair spilled across his shoulders and down his back. The kneeling man's face was tilted up, his expression... The moisture disappeared from Daniel's mouth. It was only a rough sketch, lacking fine details, but he had seen that expression before, had seen the same look of need and desire writ plainly on Casey's face.

He sucked in a shaky breath and turned the page.

The two men stood facing each other. The arms of the fair man were free, crossing over his chest protectively, his wrists marked from the bonds. The dark man leaned forward, carefully placing a heavy cloak over the other's shoulders, his expression one of concern.

In the drawing below, the dark-haired man lay naked, sprawled on a bed or cushions, fabric swirling around his feet and shoulders. His raised hands clasped the shoulders of the fair-haired man straddling his hips. The artist had caught them in an almost-kiss, their mouths a breath apart, their lids half- closed. Daniel swallowed noisily. A soft rustle made him start, and he glanced guiltily around the empty room before squeezing his eyes shut. Heart pounding, he opened them and looked at the next drawing.

The two men sat on a galloping horse, their bodies pressed tightly together, their arms entwined, four hands grasping the reins. The dark man looked back over his shoulder at the tiny figures behind them. They were in flight, desperation clear in their expressions, in the tense set of their bodies.

His hand shook as he turned the page. The two men lay huddled together under the stars, wrapped in blankets, the horse cropping the scrub in the distance. One of the fair man's hands caressed the cheek of the other, and their foreheads touched. Daniel blushed, as if he had interrupted two real lovers in such an intimate moment.

The next drawing showed the dark-haired man stretched out on a couch, but there was no hint of seduction in his pose. He looked wan and ill, but his raised hand pointed firmly toward the door. Shoulders slumped, the fair man had turned away from him and walked out the open doorway. Daniel quickly looked at the sketch at the bottom of the page.

"No," he breathed.

The dark man crouched on the ground, hair disheveled, clothing filthy and torn. His hands covered his face. At his feet lay the other man, limbs sprawling, head lolling at a break-neck angle, blood trickling from a gaping wound in his chest. He was dead.

"No," Daniel repeated in a whisper as he stumbled to his feet, knees like water, his eyes fixed on that dreadful image. "No."

What had he done?

The warning was clear. Casey. He must find Casey. He was in danger, terrible, terrible danger, and Daniel had sent him, forced him, to face it alone.

He tore from the room with a harsh cry.

In the east, the horizon was barely visible, the sky washed with the promise of light. Daniel turned with a groan, settling himself gingerly back on the saddle and urging Zeina forward. The monastery lay far behind him, a dark shape in the brightening landscape.

He had moved heaven and earth to get ready in time to leave this morning. He had cajoled the stablemaster into readying Zeina and noted down the directions he had given Casey, overridden the doctor's objections to his journey, ordered food and bought supplies to replace those they had lost. He would find Casey, help him rescue his son, and then... After he had finished his preparations, Daniel had sighed and spent an hour staring at the fire, wondering how to handle the situation.

Casey would not want to return with him, but he must. He could not be left alone. Daniel had shuddered, remembering the uncouth sprawl of the dead body in the drawing, the abject misery of the kneeling figure. Somehow he would have to persuade Casey to return to his father's lands. Staring bleakly into the wavering flames, Daniel had planned what he would say, how he would keep Casey with him, despite the pain of knowing that they would never be free to touch, to make love to one another again. It would be worth it to know that Casey would be safe.

There had been a brisk knock at the door, and when Daniel had bid them enter, a messenger had walked in and knelt at his feet.

"A reply for you, Effendi," he had said, presenting Daniel with a heavy parcel, securely wrapped and sealed with wax.

Daniel had thanked and tipped him well, then, with shaking hands, had opened the parcel. He had picked up the letter at the top of the parcel and had turned to the fire in order to read it.

My cousin and heart's brother,

I wish I had better news to send you. Your father remains adamantly convinced of your guilt and refuses to listen to any words in your favor. Several of us have tried to make him see reason, but he dismisses us immediately and has threatened to exile us if we continue to support your innocence.

Do not return home. It pains me more than I can say to inform you that your father has ordered your immediate death if you step foot inside his lands. I repeat, do not return home. I will continue my efforts to prove your innocence, so send me word where you can be reached.

I am sending you what little money I have, and hope to have good news for you one day. Certainly Allah will not allow such injustice to continue for long.

I remain your devoted cousin,

Dauid

Daniel had stared blankly at the letter. He had understood what Dauid said, but strangely, he felt nothing. No regret, no pain, no anger. Calmly, carefully, he had laid it on the table and opened the package. A pile of gold gleamed in the firelight. It was not a fortune, but it was enough to travel in comfort for several months. He had separated it into several smaller piles and hid all but one in his saddlebags, saving that one handful to carry in his belt.

He had not returned to the fire, but had made his way to his bed. Only then, when he had stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, did the pain come, slicing through his chest and burning behind his eyes. His father had cast him off, believed the worst of him, and refused to listen to those who would try to tell the truth of the matter.

He had wept then, a bitter mixture of sorrow and rage. His weakness had not lasted long, and when the storm had passed, he had felt hollow inside, an empty vessel that had been scoured clean. He had resolutely closed his eyes and had willed himself to sleep.

And now he was an hour out from the monastery, a day behind Casey. Even if he had been healthy and able to ride like the wind, it was unlikely that he would be able to catch up with Casey until he reached Zaheira. All Daniel could do was travel as fast as Zeina and he were able, and hope that Casey remained safe until they were reunited.

The day passed quickly. Daniel found the inn where Casey had spent the previous night and managed to secure the same bed that Casey had used. He chided himself for allowing such romantic foolishness to guide his actions, but he slept well on the worn mattress knowing that Casey had shared his bed, even at the distance of a day. Despite his exhaustion and weakness, he was up betimes and back on the road again before dawn.

It was late in the afternoon of the third day when Daniel rubbed his gritty eyes and squinted into the distance. Tall walls and stout fortifications loomed ahead - Zaheira. The traffic on the road had increased all day, and as he neared the town, Zeina had to pick his way through the chaos of rumbling, heavily-laden carts, little donkeys almost hidden beneath their loads, and other travelers on foot or horseback.

Passing through the gates was a slow, tedious business. Travelers were questioned, carts were sporadically searched, and everyone was assessed a toll. Daniel paid the steep toll with only token grumbling and then set off in search of the inn recommended by the stablemaster. There was a fluttering in his gut and his hands shook as he navigated the narrow, twisty streets. Exhaustion, Daniel told himself. It could be nothing more than that. He was too tired and preoccupied to do more than glance at the peculiar architecture of the tall houses, so different from those thick-walled, low buildings he was familiar with.

He took the wrong turning twice, but after a short period of confusion, he finally spotted the sign he was looking for: the inn of Sitt Amira. He urged Zeina into the courtyard, where a young boy ran out from the stables.

"Greetings, Effendi," the boy said, taking Zeina's reins.

Stifling a groan, Daniel slid from the saddle and leaned against Zeina's side for a moment. His legs shook from strain, and he locked his knees and hoped they would not give way beneath him. "Greetings," he replied. "Does the Sitt have a room free?"

The boy wrinkled his nose and frowned. "I believe so, Effendi, but you will have to ask her."

Daniel nodded and tried to calm his pounding heart. "Did a man, a northerner, arrive yesterday?"

"Tall, with a funny name?" The boy grinned and nodded. "Yes. The Sitt almost refused him a bed, but he was sent by the holy men, and she felt obliged to take him in."

"Ah." Daniel sighed in relief. Casey was here. Casey was safe. "I will see the Sitt now."

He walked slowly but steadily through the courtyard, entering through the high- linteled door, open to the afternoon sun, and paused by the entrance. A little girl who looked no more than four or five checked her headlong dash through the room and looked at him with adult assessment. Daniel forced himself not to fidget beneath her intense scrutiny.

"Are you here for a room?" she finally asked, looking dubiously at his travel- stained garments.

"Yes. Is one available?" he replied gravely.

"I shall ask." And she disappeared through a far door, her high voice raised in inquiry. As he waited, Daniel looked around. The room was simply but comfortably furnished, clean and bright in the warm sunlight. The rich smell of roasting lamb added to the feeling of homey comfort, and Daniel's stomach rumbled at the promise of food.

A dark robed figure bustled in through the far door, her arms spread wide.

"Ah, Effendi. My pardons for not greeting you earlier. You wish a room?"

"Yes, Sitt. Will you be able to accommodate me?"

"Of course."

They bargained amicably for the cost of the room, settling on a price that was expensive, but not outrageous. If the lamb tasted half as good as it smelled, Daniel knew he would not begrudge the money. As she led him to his chamber, he said "I believe a friend of mine is staying here, a northerner, by the name of Casey."

She darted him a quick look and nodded. "A friend of yours?" One arched eyebrow lifted. "Yes, he arrived here yesterday."

"Good. I shall be glad to see him again," Daniel said blandly.

"His room is across the hall from yours, Effendi, but he is out now." She stopped at the end of the hall and opened the door on the left. "Here is your room. I shall send hot water for you to refresh yourself. Dinner will be soon. Would you like to eat in your room?"

"Yes. And when my friend returns, would you ask him to come to me?"

"Of course. The boy will bring your bags in a moment."

Daniel sank gratefully onto the broad bed and rubbed his dusty face. By the Five, he was tired. His injuries ached, and he felt as if he had not slept in weeks. His bags arrived after a few minutes, and close on the stableboy's heels came the hot water. He washed and changed his clothes, glad to put on fresh garments.

Stifling a yawn, he looked at the bed and, with a shrug, stretched out on the mattress. He would just rest his eyes for a few moments, and then he would be refreshed for dinner.

An incessant tapping roused him, and he swam up from the depths of his slumber, groggy and disoriented. The tapping continued and he stared at the room, bewildered. Finally he blinked and memory returned. The inn. Casey. His dinner.

"Come," he called, his voice raspy from sleep, as he pushed himself up into a sitting position.

The door opened.

"Effendi? You wished-"

Casey stepped into the room and glanced around. Daniel's breath caught in his throat. Casey's gaze finally reached Daniel. With a gasp, he stepped back and raised his hand, palm out, as if pushing Daniel away.

"You! I can't... You said..." He drew a shaky breath and his expression hardened. "You made your wishes very clear, el-Rydal. Go back where you came from. I must find my son."

Turning on his heel, he fled the room, slamming the door behind him.

Daniel cursed and struggled to rise from the bed. His legs were tangled in the blankets and he stumbled as he scrambled off the mattress, almost pitching headlong. Righting himself quickly, he ran to the door and flung it open.

Casey stood in the hallway, his face miserable.

Daniel grabbed the doorframe, panting and groggy. His thigh ached and he had a stitch in his side. "I... I came to help," he gasped, swaying.

Casey's mouth twisted, and he suddenly stepped forward, gently clasping Daniel's upper arm. "You fool. You're still recovering. Come back to bed."

He allowed Casey to lead him to the bed and gratefully sank down onto the mattress, closing his eyes. He was so damn tired...

A blanket was pulled over his legs and, after a minute, a damp cloth dabbed at his sweaty face. He pried open his eyes. Casey was sitting on the edge of the bed, unsmiling, a little furrow between his eyebrows.

"I came to warn you," Daniel murmured. He thought about lifting his arm and stroking Casey's smooth cheek, but his arm was too heavy... Perhaps later.

"Warn me?" Casey looked at him sharply. "About what?"

"About what I saw in the book." He let out a gusty breath. "I found it in the library. Saw the pictures."

"Pictures?"

"The drawings of two men. You... and me." Daniel shifted and squinted up at Casey. "You..." His throat contracted, and he squeezed his eyes shut. "You died."

Casey muttered something he couldn't hear, and then said softly, "Rest, you're very tired." The cool cloth smoothed over his forehead.

"Dammit!" He pushed away Casey's arm and opened his eyes, struggled to sit up. "Don't humor me. I'm tired, not an imbecile."

"Very well." Casey sat back and looked at him gravely. "What book did you find?"

Daniel winced as he propped himself up on the pillow. "The one you were talking about. The Libe something."

"The Liber Oraculum?" Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

"No," Casey replied, shaking his head. The corners of his mouth curled up a hair, and Daniel's hand itched. This was serious, dammit. He wanted to smack that smirk off of Casey's face. Casey continued. "Unless you searched behind a pile of moldy manuscripts on the lowest shelf in the back room."

"I didn't have to search anywhere. It was on the table." Daniel glared. "I know it was the right book - it was written in some barbaric tongue. I couldn't read it."

Casey frowned. "Describe the book."

"It was about this big," Daniel said, relieved. At last Casey was taking him seriously. He held out his hands in the approximate width and length of the book. "Bound in worn leather."

"And it had pictures? Drawings?"

"In the margins. There was a cat, a pony, an old woman." Daniel put a hand on Casey's shoulder. "And the two men."

"And one of the men died." Casey rested his hand on top of Daniel's.

Daniel's chest was painfully tight, and he sucked in a noisy breath. "Yes."

A grin split Casey's face, and he chuckled. Daniel stared at him. Had the journey turned his mind?

"First of all, you didn't find the Liber Oraculum," said Casey with a laugh.

"But I couldn't read it..."

"There's more than one book in that library that you can't read. What you found, Daniel, is a collection of tales and legends."

"What?"

"I remember leafing through it. The drawings illustrate the tales, and the two men are Miikka and Tuukka."

"But they were..." Daniel looked at Casey's smiling face and swallowed hard. "The similarities..."

Casey nodded, his smile dissolving. "Are there. Miikka was a slave, and Tuukka bought him and fell in... desired him. They became lovers. Tuukka's wife resented Miikka, and she tried to kill him, so they fled." His voice caught, and he rubbed the side of his nose, looking uncomfortable. "There are two endings. In one, they argue. Tuukka sends Miikka away, and Miikka is ambushed by their pursuers. In the other, they escape to the other side of the world and live happily together until they are old and grey."

"So the drawings were of the first ending," Daniel said, half to himself. He glanced at Casey and assayed a fleeting smile. "I prefer the second one."

Casey snorted. "As do I." His eyes fell and he was silent for a moment. Without looking up, he cleared his throat. "You saw the drawings and came to warn me?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." Casey gave his hand a pat before releasing it and, still not meeting his eyes, stood. "But as you can see, there's no need. I'm fine. But you..." He shook his head. "You're exhausted. You should stay and rest for a few days before you return."

Like a dust devil in the deep desert, pain suddenly whipped through him. He covered his eyes with the back of his hand. "I won't be returning."

"What do you mean? Of course you'll-"

"Dauid wrote," he said, and his thrice-damned voice wobbled. His hand fell to the side and he stared at the whitewashed ceiling, his throat working. "My father has cut me off, and I will be killed if I return home."

Casey gasped. "Mas-" he began, and then was silent.

Daniel lowered his eyes and looked at Casey. His face was ashen, his lips parted as if to speak, but he said nothing. "I want you to know," Daniel managed to get the words out, "that I was coming to warn you before I received Dauid's letter. I would not - could not - allow you to unwittingly encounter danger."

There was a knock on the door before Casey could reply, if indeed he meant to. Daniel called out "Come," and the door opened.

"Your dinner, Effendi," murmured a servant as he entered. He hesitated when he saw Casey, and shot a sharp look at Daniel before lowering his eyes.

"Place it on the table," Daniel said, his tone peremptory. He knew how to order those beneath him - he was not his father's son for nothing. "Makall Effendi will join me."

"Of course," said the servant quietly, and set the table for two. When he was finished, Daniel dismissed him, and he properly kept his gaze on the floor as he left. Good.

Casey stood stock still, as if he were rooted to the spot. Daniel threw back the blankets and stifled a groan. By the Five, he was paying for his rash journey - his side was tender and his leg ached. Casey started at the sound and gave his head a quick shake, then clasped Daniel's hand and gently pulled him upright.

"Food and rest are what you need, now," Casey said, leading him toward the table. "We will talk of this later." After he settled Daniel comfortably and served him, he sat and served himself. Despite his heart-sick exhaustion, Daniel's mouth watered at the rich scent of the lamb stew.

"Well?" Daniel blinked and looked at Casey, who nodded toward his plate. "What are you waiting for? Eat."

The stew tasted as good as it smelled, the wine was sharp but not bitter, and they ate in silence for a while. Only when his immediate hunger was appeased did Daniel pause and look at Casey.

"Have you seen him?"

Daniel was about to clarify his question, but Casey knew what he meant. His hand stilled half-way to his mouth, and he shook his head, his eyes bleak. "Not yet. I found where the janissaries have their school and had a quick look, but the students in the training yard were too old."

Daniel leaned forward. He hated that look in Casey's eyes, hated the thought that he, that his people, had had anything to do with putting it there. "We will find him, Casey. And you will have him again. I promise you that," he said firmly.

Casey's expression lightened, but he snorted. "You promised me that before we fled, Daniel, and I will hold you to your promise."

"An el-Rydal does not... This is, I do not renege on my promises," Daniel said, sitting back. "And I will do everything in my power to help you."

Color darkened Casey's cheeks, and he quickly looked at his plate. "Thank you," he said unevenly.

They ate a little more, and then Daniel pushed away his plate. "Tell me what you saw."

Casey frowned and put down his spoon. "It's a large complex on the edge of the town, surrounded by a high stone wall, topped with iron spikes. I could only walk along three sides, since the fourth appears to be part of the city walls."

"Could you see inside the walls?"

"Yes. There is one main gate, which was open when I passed. Several other people were looking in, so I didn't think it would be remarkable if I stopped and looked as well."

"Tourists," Daniel muttered. He winked when Casey gave him a startled look, and Casey grinned.

"There are several buildings that surround a large dirt yard. That was where the students were practicing some sort of drill with a long staff. I could see nothing to indicate where the other students might be housed, or if they were even there." He rubbed his forehead, and his voice grew flat. "For all I know, they could have taken them to another city, or even to the middle of the desert." He let his hand drop onto the table, his forehead pink from the pressure of his fingers.

"Then we will have to find out more about the school," Daniel said calmly. "Where the students sleep, eat, take their lessons. What they do to relax. If they go outside the walls."

"And how are we to do that?" Casey snapped. "Just walk up and ask?"

A slow smile spread across Daniel's face. "Exactly."

"Don't toy with me, Daniel." Casey glowered at him, his voice rough. "This is my son we're discussing."

Daniel reached across the table and rested his hand on Casey's. His flesh was clammy beneath Daniel's fingers. "I'm not toying with you. Although my father might deny me," he said quickly, "I am still Daniel el-Rydal. My family is known throughout the kingdom, and I may ask to tour the famous school of the janissaries." He pulled his hand away and shrugged. "And if I ask certain questions about the students' schooling and routine, there is nothing to suggest that it is not simply idle curiosity on my part."

The look of hope in Casey's eyes almost unmanned him, but Daniel just cocked his head to one side and looked at Casey.

"Would you..." Casey cleared his throat and started again. "Would Daniel el- Rydal have a servant accompany him during his tour?"

"Of course. In the morning I will send a messenger to Mohammed ibn el-Rasad, informing him that I wish to see the school. Once we know more about the students' locations and schedule, we will be able to formulate a plan to rescue your son."

"Olle. My Olle," Casey whispered, with such love and hope in his voice that Daniel quickly looked away. If only Casey had said his name in such a way...

Pushing back his chair, Daniel rose. He did not want to say the words, but he must. "You must return to your room now."

"I could stay..."

He shook his head. "No. Not here. We must appear friends, nothing more."

"Why?" Casey's jaw set in a stubborn line.

"Because we are both free men, and I cannot jeopardize my position until I have seen el-Rasad."

Shoulder slumping, Casey nodded. "Of course." He rose. "Good night, then."

Before he could move, Daniel wrapped him in his arms and pressed his lips to Casey's. Casey's mouth opened readily, his fingers dug into Daniel's buttocks, pulling them tightly together.

Daniel shuddered as the hard lengths of their cocks pressed together, and they parted, gasping and wide-eyed.

"Go." Daniel's voice was harsh.

Casey hesitated, then nodded, and disappeared through the door, closing it gently behind him.

With a groan, Daniel flung himself on the bed. He must be mad to be here, following his former slave, instead of trying to prove his innocence and regain his position at home. He licked his lips, slick with the taste of Casey, and groaned again.

It is as Allah wills.