Lover's Twilight 2

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Alex was surprised by the sudden movement of the Prince, more surprised when a hot tongue slid erotically over his bare chest. His gasp was rewarded by Fox's eyes raising to his, their hazel glow more green than he had ever seen them. Fox jerked back slightly, his expression delightfully confused.

"I-I'm sorry, Alex...I don't know why..."
Before the Prince could move away, Alex reached a bold hand to the beautiful face, "It's all right...please."

Fox wanted to stand, to move away from the seductive little rat, but he found that he couldn't. If Walter were there, the Prince knew he would have been able to resist what he was feeling for the pretty servant. He could take out his irrational needs, his unexplainable desire to touch, to kiss, to suck...He moaned. "I shouldn't even be here with you like this," he scolded as he lay more fully down upon Alex's slimly muscled body. "I should get up, stop thinking what I'm thinking," he assured Alex as his lips searched out and found the sweet pink mouth.

Alex didn't dare interrupt the strange scolding, nor would he as long as the Prince kept running his hands slowly along his chest. When his nipples were rolled between the Prince's fingers he sighed in pleasure.

"I love Walter," Fox informed Alex breathlessly.

"Of course you do," Alex assured the Prince. "He is a fine man." He opened his mouth for Fox's tongue and slowly rubbed his own against the sweet hot flesh.

"The finest," Fox breathed into Alex's mouth.

"Strong and hard," Alex added when he could breathe.

The Prince pulled back a bit, to the tune of Alex's whimper of protest. "Strong and hard?" The blush on Fox's face was only partially from his embarrassment of how demanding Alex was being. "We aren't going that far," he said shakily.

Alex frowned, his hands stroking boldly up the Prince's back and down to his slim waist, wanting to dare to cup the round buttocks in his hands, clenching the fabric of the Prince's shirt instead. "The Captain," he clarified after his brain could signify what the Prince's confusion was.

"Exactly," Fox entreated. "We must...I must think of him..." He groaned then as desire, more uncontrollable than he had ever felt coursed through him, and he fell once more to kissing Alex's sweet mouth. Such sweetness he had never known. His skin felt as if it were going to burn right off his body. The hardness of Alex's groin beneath his, Alex's hips circling eagerly beneath him intoxicated him. He knew what he was feeling was only partially due to Alex's undeniable appeal, but he was unable...unwilling to fight the need any longer.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Alex needed no further encouragement. That the Prince, the object of his secret adoration, thought him beautiful, that he was kissing him, wanting him, galvanized him to actions he would have thought he could never dare. He flipped the pretty Prince on hi back and tore at the shirt that concealed the smooth chest. Fox's eyes burned ever hotter in response to Alex's aggression, further emboldening the servant to take his pleasure with a prince.

"I want to taste every inch of you. God how I need to," Alex groaned. He kissed one erect nipple and then the next, biting gently at first and then with more sting as the Prince seemed to long for more intensity. His hands fell to the task of removing the rough pants, and he took a quick look into the Prince's flushed face. The Prince had called *him* beautiful, but he knew he was looking into the very face of beauty now. The Face of Love, the Bishop had frequently described the Prince's face. And it was. Especially when it was as it was now. Beneath him and flushed with need for *him!*

He trailed his mouth down toward Fox's belly, loving how the sensitive skin shivered under his onslaught. He had dreamed of doing this to the Prince. Dreamed many times how he would tease and tempt and make the beautiful man beg and scream. But when he had him beneath him, he could only think of how much he needed to taste him. He heard the Prince gasp once before he took hold of his cock, rubbing it with strength with a dominance that the Prince seemed to adore. Fox's long legs fell open wide and their eyes met, communicating a wealth of desire.

"Alex," Fox moaned.

"Ask me," Alex heard himself say, though it wouldn't be later until he understood why he wanted the Prince to be sure of his own willingness in this lovemaking. It wouldn't be later until Alex would allow himself to suspect that which he had begun to suspect with the Captain the evening before, and the flask from the three odd men.

Fox's brilliant eyes gleamed, understanding that Alex wanted him to tell him exactly what he wanted. "Please, Alex, kiss me there."

Alex smiled at the pretty words. He would have preferred a more sexual request, but his body responded to those words well enough. He could feel moisture gathering at the tip of his own cock, and Fox had yet to touch him there. The thought of Fox's mouth covering him there, the plump softness opened wide was tantalizing. He bent to kiss the tip of Fox's cock, moaning at the salty taste. So hard and hot and pulsing with blood. Fox cried out his pleasure, not hearing the howl of the wolf in the distance...too caught up in the moment...too caught up with Alex to hear anything but Alex's voice.

Alex wanted to devour the plump cock, to take it deep inside him and never relinquish it. He slid his mouth over and back, time and again until the Prince began to pump his hips up and down in tandem to his own gasps of pleasure. He chanted Alex's name in a benediction. Alex scooped his hands underneath Fox's buttock's cupping them firmly, squeezing their firmness with strong hands. His eyes, green slits of lust, peered up at Fox's face. Fox had his eyes closed and his arms thrown over his head in abandon. His long fingers were reflexively opening and closing.

"Alex!"

The cry preceded the eruption of semen into Alex's mouth and he greedily swallowed it all, surprised by his eagerness for the fluid. He sucked until the Prince whimpered and shook, and then he rose up over him, enjoying the look of utter surrender on Fox's exquisite face. The smile that curved those soft lips was an enchantment.

"Alex," Fox said tenderly, reaching up to caress the planes of a face he had never wanted to notice. Never wanted to see how beautiful it was.

Alex needed to feel those lips upon him, his cock throbbed with that need, but he would do no more without the Prince's desire. He wanted to cry with need. Fox's words made him stiffen with lust.

"I want you, little Rat."

****

Ah, God, Fox was so beautiful that Alex trembled with desire yet he didn't know what to do. All he had in his store of memories was what Walter had done to him...and the prince. In a frenzy of lust that could not be assuaged, he rained kisses on Fox's lips, devoured his neck, found his nipples and suckled them, pulling hard on them as if he could sate himself there. His hips writhed, pushing against the heated flesh of the beautiful prince. He moaned helplessly, not able to find satisfaction.

Fox caught at Alex's face and forced it up. It was beautiful, scarlet painted with desire. Alex's eyelids were velvet and his heavy lashes fluttered as if they were too weighted to keep open. "You don't know what to do next?" Fox asked, a ripple of humor beneath his silken voice.

Lips quivering, Alex shook his head and said, "I was a virgin until..."

Interrupting the words, Fox exclaimed in delight, "A virgin? Then I must show you!"

Someone had left balm next to the bed, no doubt Walter in caring for Alex's wound. Fox scooped some up and transferred it to Alex's right hand and guided the hand down to his opening. "You must prepare me for you. Put your finger there and move it about and..."

The familiar touch made Fox shudder. He was a man of strong passions, eager and hot blooded. When first, he had made love with Walter, it seemed impossible that he had waited so long to experience these delights. Fox's large cock stirred again. It seemed as if he had gone forever without sex and for some reason he felt very close to Walter as he made love to this pretty peasant. Alex even smelled like Walter and the thought suddenly coursed through his head and thrilled him that perhaps they could all remain together when the curse was lifted.

Alex had stopped when Fox stirred and he stared at him with great jade eyes blinking in alarm. "No, don't stop, my lover, I loved what you were doing. I know you won't hurt me. You would never hurt me."

The beautiful barbarian shivered and said, "No, never, I would give my life for you and for Walter. I know I'm a liar, a spy, and a mountebank, but I can still love. I love you."

Alex's head bent over Fox's groin, teasing his cock back to life. His fingers kept a teasing pace, mimicking the action for which he prepared the prince's opening. Fox's hand threaded through Alex's hair, he was tempted to just let himself be served in this way. What a glorious mouth the pretty rat had! However a lucky thrust of the fingers hit the prince's most sensitive spot and Fox said, "Come on, fuck me. It's a...royal command!"

A hint of a smile twitched across Alex's face, but he bowed slightly and made as if to pull on his forelock with the comment, "And so I must obey you, sweet prince."

It didn't feel like Walter to Fox. Although he was gentle, Walter was sure of himself. From the first time that they had been together, Walter had been confident that he could make it good for Fox and, of course, he had. He was masterful well this was powerful yet tenderly hesitant. Fox felt the tentative push of the thick head of Alex's cock against him and pushed back, managing to encase a good inch of it.

Fox arched, loving to see Alex's face as he slowly slid within him. He arched; wanting to feel Alex encased within him. "Oh, God, I can't stand it," Alex moaned, "It feels too good."

"Hold back, love, not yet, my darling, I need more," Fox begged. He thrust his hips upward, making Alex shudder and push hard within him. Watching Alex's face, shining with sweat and wild with passion, Fox felt that he was possessing him. He couldn't wait for another time; Alex was a virgin. Mulder had only been with Walter and never had the chance to claim another man's virginity in this intimate way. He wanted everything the Bishop's Spender's green eyes slave had to offer. Their hands met on Fox's cock, sliding over the rigid flesh in the rhythm of their thrusts. At last, Alex arched back, a deep groan growling from his lips as he came. A few strokes finished Fox as well and they crawled trembling into each other's arms.

The night seemed magical to Fox. There could be no wrong about his desire for Alex. They clung together, kissing and holding close. Surely, Walter would understand. Fox caressed Alex's face and said, "When dawn comes, you will have to tell him. You must give him this for me,"

Fox claimed Alex in a deep kiss, nearly smothering his new lover in his passion. He liked how it felt, the way Alex yielded to him. Fox caressed Alex's cheeks and said, "Give yourself to him. Surely he must need this too as I have. You needn't be afraid. For all his size and power, Walter can be very gentle."

Caressing Alex soft skin, Fox wanted to give him to Walter, an offering. Perhaps, he did feel guilty now, but if Walter lay with Alex too, it would solve that. Wishing that he were not so weary, Fox sprawled possessively over his beautiful barbarian and went to sleep, an arm and a leg still capturing the naked flesh to him.

^0^^0^^0^^0^^0^

Every part of him ached when Alex woke. The room was still dark, but he felt cold hit his back as the prince stirred and half rose from their bed. The wound in Alex's arm felt like fire and his ass also was very sore. The room smelled thick of male musk and Alex couldn't understand what had happened. He had yielded to first Walter and then to the prince. Tears of misery trickled down his cheeks as he considered that he had given up his main protection. He had thrown away his grandmother's gift on two men whom he was sure could never really love him. Only the curse that kept them apart had induced them to make love to him.

Prince Fox looked at him sadly and said, "The dawn is coming. I don't know what came over me last night, Alex. It was like madness, but yet, I don't regret it exactly. I just don't know what Walter will think when he finds out. Last night, I felt so sure that I could explain and that you could somehow be the bridge between us, giving my love to him and his to me. Now, I don't know..."

Taking pity on Alex, the prince said, "Whatever happened, I do feel something for you. Something I didn't expect to feel for anyone but Walter. Somehow, this must have been meant to be. We'll work it out, dear Alex."

Kneeling on the bed, the prince urged Alex up to kneel with him. His kisses were gentle now. Last night they had been so hard that they had bruised Alex's mouth. The prince was like some fire, which burned Alex through yet the immolation was somehow all consuming. Alex wished that he could become a hawk too and flee with Prince Mulder to the sky. He shook with fear, certain that his madness had ruined everything. Had his grandmother known what a slut Alex was, surely she wouldn't have wasted her last breath protecting him with that spell. "It really will be all right, " Fox said, but his body already shivered with the first inklings of his transformation.

A howl separated them as Walter still in wolf form burst into the room. Dawn's light fell across the bed and Fox lost his mass, becoming again the beautiful gyrfalcon. It whirled once above their heads, keening and then flew out the window, leaving Alex to face Walter's wrath.

The snarling wolf sniffed the air, growls increasing as his lupine eyes burned. As he leapt, he became a hairy man and then he was Walter of Navarre again. His giant hands so tender yesterday grasped Alex's throat. He choked him, screaming, "You whore! Did you merely pretend to be a shrinking maiden? How dare you touch the prince?"

So grieved was Alex that he didn't even fight. He felt blackness coming over his vision and he wondered if he would see his grandmother and even his parents whom he could barely remember. He looked into Walter's eyes, remembering the tenderness that he had seen in them last night and now to die like this...at his hands.

^0^^0^^0^^0^^0^

Not death after all, unless death was a cold room, a rumpled bed smelling of last night's lust, an overturned jug that had held the medicine. Alex grabbed the pottery container and threw it against the wall. Somehow he knew that the jug was partially at fault, but he also blamed himself. He had been so filled with desire that he had sinned terribly first lying with one and then the other. His throat ached and his arm throbbed with a deep pain that reminded him of the wound he had taken yesterday. Alex went to find water with which to bathe, scrubbing hard at his body, angry at his weakness. He had ruined everything, everything...

Once, Alex was dressed, he ran to the cave where they had left the horse. Goliath and all the gear were gone. It had snowed overnight and the tracks were visible so Alex followed them. He had never been the one to plan the route that the mountebanks had taken. He had to follow Walter's trail just to find his way back to some city where he could try to make a living by stealing or tumbling. 'Whoring' his mind told him, 'that's what I must be good at."

The day wore away and Alex could hardly remember feeling more miserable physically and emotionally. He had left without food or even a container of water. The snow he swallowed chilled him further without really easing his thirst. His clothing was soaked through and his feet felt numb. Only some stubborn instinct kept him plodding the many weary hours. He occasionally heard a hawk crying above him. Each time he looked up, but it was not Prince Mulder. He knew the beautiful Fox in either form. Shivering was good Alex remembered; if you stopped shivering then you were done for.

It was nearly dark and soon Walter would be dismounting in preparation for his transmutation. Mulder must be riding on the arm of his lover, physically close although unable to communicate or to caress him as they both had caressed Alex.

When Alex nearly stepped into a fresh pile of droppings, he knew that Walter was not far ahead of him. He slowed and then noticed that it was starting to snow harder. It was difficult to see in the heavy fall, but Alex remembered an odd rock formation that jutted like a demon from the ground. He remembered what lay beyond, a large pond. Samson and Pandemonium had warned him when he wanted to go skating on the thick ice. There was an eddy from a geyser that kept the ice permanently treacherous. No matter how solid the ice appeared, it was never safe to walk upon.

The sun had gone down. Alex saw Mulder crouching to pick up his clothing. Goliath patiently waited nearby. Beyond them, the wolf was pacing out across the icy pond, probably testing the surface. As Alex appeared, the wolf snarled, but Mulder said, "Walter, no, please, I beg you. It was my fault. You can't blame him."

The wolf turned and tread further out. Alex said, "No, Walter, don't the ice...the ice is never solid."

As Alex ran stupidly forward, the wolf uttered a yelp of surprise. Its paws scrabbled as the ice broke into shards that floated away. Alex ran out onto the ice and caught at the wolf's fur, catching the sodden stuff before the unseen current could pull him under.

"Throw a rope, Fox! Don't come out here!" Alex yelled. The wolf was so heavy and in raw animal panic, he had turned and was clawing at Alex's chest and arms. No matter, Alex would not let go for his heart held only love for Walter of Navarre. If the wolf was pulled under, Alex would go with him...

Frantic, Mulder ran to untie the rope that hung down from Goliath's neck. His fingers scrabbled at the rope until he was able to loosen and tug it off. Seconds seemed like hours until he had the loose rope in his hand, and he was ready to loop it and throw it to Alex, who was holding onto the crazed animal for dear life.

"Your highness, hurry! I can't hold onto him much longer!" Alex cried and then screamed as the wolf clawed his shoulder, dangerously close to his arm wound, which was threatening to open with all his struggle.

He grabbed the rope that Mulder threw to him and managed to pull it over the wolf's head and around the thrashing beast's upper body. The cold water had slowed the animal's movements where fear had not…he was starting to move sluggishly, freezing in the pond, and Alex knew that they had best get the creature out of there before it was too late.

Holding onto the rope, he pulled hard, and the wolf made one last feeble movement to leap up onto the edge of the ice. The combined efforts were enough to let the wolf clear the edge of the ice, and Alex grabbed the beast around the waist to haul him away from danger.

Wearily, Alex carried the wolf to the shore. They had almost lost Walter of Navarre. He shuddered when he thought of what would have happened had he not followed the two of them. The prince and the captain could have both fallen into the icy pond, as Fox would have undoubtedly given his life to help his beloved captain.

Mulder grabbed the panting wolf from Alex's arms. "Walter, he saved your life! What would I have done without you?" Mulder cried, his voice breaking as he buried his face in the wolf's wet fur.

Alex sighed to himself as he watched the anxious prince whispering soothing sounds of endearment to the whimpering, exhausted wolf. In all his life, even when he was traveling with Samson and Pandemonium he had never felt like such a third wheel. "Your highness, I am happy to have served both you and the captain, but it is best that I be on my way. Walter of Navarre is furious at me for our dalliance, and I can't help but feel that it would be a grave mistake to continue to grace you both with my presence."

Mulder let out an exasperated sound. When he turned and faced Alex, the servant was stunned to see fierce determination in his glare. "That is sheer nonsense, Alex. You just saved the good captain's life. Walter of Navarre is not a man to hold grudges. In time he will understand your place in our relationship, so therefore I forbid you to leave."

Alex suddenly had difficulty swallowing. "What place do I have then, in your relationship, my prince?"

Mulder smiled slyly. He stroked the wolf's head gently and turned away from Alex. "That of a good and loyal friend, of course."

The wolf gave a little growl as if he didn't agree to the prince's declaration, but the creature's reaction only made Mulder smile harder. "It's all right, my love," he spoke to the wolf soothingly. "You will see that I'm right in good time."

He turned back to Alex. "Perhaps the better question to ask yourself, is what place do you have in our relationship? Or think you have?"

Shaking his head, Alex didn't want to answer. However, when the prince frowned in impatience, he said, "As I said last night, I'd die for you, my prince, and the good captain too. What more can a man such as I do to prove the strength of his love? I have no lands or income to tithe over to the crown, I can't even rightly say that I even own my own life, but I do know what I want, and that is to help you and…and admire you…for the rest of that life."

Mulder regarded him impassively and then broke into a warm smile. "Well said, sweet Alex! There, my love, you see, you have the undying devotion of our little rat. And you should show some proper appreciation, for he saved your life, after all."

The wolf let out a skeptical-sounding snarl in response, causing Mulder to chuckle.

Turning away, Alex walked over to Goliath to see to supplies for the cold night. He was used to staying out in the cold weather, but he was surprised that the captain would inflict such poor lodgings on the prince. His heart was heavy, he didn't know what to make of Fox's light, teasing manner with him and his refusal to let Alex leave. He'd had too difficult and unhappy a life to have his affections trifled with, even by a royal personage.

However, he dreaded the moment when Walter of Navarre made his transformation back into his human form. Would he attack Alex once more and accuse him of being a whore? You've placed yourself in a fine stew, Alex told himself. He was ashamed of himself and his foolishness. Not only had he squandered the gift his dying grandmother had bestowed upon him, but he'd come between the prince and his true love without giving it a second thought.

He grabbed a sack from Goliath's back and, forgetting about his wounds, clutched it to his chest. He cried out in pain. The wolf had clawed his chest and shoulder in its blind panic to save itself. The scratches were deep but had already stopped bleeding. Still, there was some pain, and if they hadn't been so far from his hut, another visit to Malvin might have been in order.

Watching the escaped slave with eagle eyes, Mulder stood up from the wolf. "Alex, are you hurt?"

Avoiding Mulder's eyes, Alex shook his head. "'Tis nothing, your highness. The wolf clawed me a bit in his efforts to save himself."

"Let me see."

Reluctantly, Alex opened his shirt. Shivering in the frigid night air, he heard the prince gasp in dismay. "Walter will be most unhappy to see you wounded like this, Alex, and by his own hand! I'll put some balm on these wounds and hopefully they will heal quickly."

The prince's hands on his chest, applying the balm, made Alex groan. Even in the frigid night air, he felt his skin tingle and burn wherever the prince touched him. Realizing the effect he had on Alex, Mulder dallied unnecessarily over his work, lingering over the upper part of Alex's chest, and slowly moving down to caress his nipples with his thumbs with gentle, circular movements.

Suddenly Fox felt his wrists grabbed in a harsh grip. "Your highness, you say that Walter of Navarre would be unhappy to see me wounded thus? I am sorry to inform you, but this morning he tried to kill me. We were inside the cabin, and you were in your hawk form outside…indeed, he called me 'whore' for sleeping with you and tried to strangle me!"

"I don't believe it!"

Alex threw down the prince's wrists. He feared losing control of himself, it wouldn't do to end up in bed with the prince again. He'd escaped with his life already, but Walter of Navarre might not be so generous as to offer him a second chance.

"It's true, I tell you," he declared, buttoning up his shirt. "I love and admire the captain, my lord, and therefore do not wish to betray him a second time."

When Mulder looked downcast, Alex continued. "It's not that I don't want you, your highness, it's just that I don't think it's wise."

Mulder was silent for a long time. Alex grew concerned, but the prince finally spoke. "You must not make too many assumptions, Alex. You may have experienced jealousy on the captain's part, but it also may not have been entirely on my behalf. You have to understand his frustration, this predicament of being separated, never being ourselves at the same time…it..it is a terrible strain on our nerves. You must understand and forgive these furious outbursts."

Having someone angry enough to threaten his life was something that would take quite a bit of understanding, Alex reflected. However, he simply nodded and then continued with unloading their supplies from Goliath.

Mulder stopped him. "Alex, I think that there's a cave a bit further up. It will provide us with some shelter from the cold. I would go to an inn, but our experience the last time we attempted this doesn't bear repeating."

Alex winced at this subtle reminder of their disastrous encounter with the unscrupulous inn owner and his wife. He still couldn't forgive himself for changing into a rat and leaving the prince to fend for himself. He could see why Mulder would want to avoid any strange lodgings if he could help it.

Silently they trudged through the cold night, leading Goliath, with the wolf, a dark, skulking form, following closely behind. Alex reflected that Fox must have seen the cave with his hawk's vision, as he seemed to know exactly where to go to find it. Once they had found the cave, they both dismounted and tied Goliath near the entrance, it wouldn't do for the poor beast to freeze to death in the frigid night air. Since the snow had stopped falling, Alex was able to build a fire, and the reflected heat kept both them and the horse warm. Peering into the darkness behind them, they couldn't make out Walter's form any longer, but knew that he must be near, as he would never put a great distance between himself and the prince.

The prince was impressed by Alex's skill in lighting the fire on such a frigid night. However downtrodden the slave's life had been, he was certainly an expert at survival.

"Alex, after you feed Goliath, come inside and get warm. You need to eat and rest, you have had a difficult day," Mulder implored him.

Once he had given Goliath his oats, Alex went inside the cave. The prince was chewing on some dried meat that Walter had acquired during the day's journey from a hunter he had encountered. He gave some to Alex, who devoured it hungrily. He had had nothing to eat all day.

Mulder watched him eat. "It is a shame that we don't know enough to deliver a kill when we are our animal selves. It would be most useful, since both Walter and I take the predator form."

Alex thought for a moment. "Are you aware of us, when you are your hawk self, your highness?"

Mulder sighed. "I realize my attachment to both of you, and know who you are and who Walter is, but most everything else is a blur. I see through the eyes of a predator, an animal…I am mainly concerned with where my next meal is coming from and that's about it."

"Can you understand the spoken word?"

"Yes, to a certain extent, but my responses to what is said to me are muted, as if I am hearing and seeing from a great distance. I also don't remember much of what it is like to be human during my time as a hawk, though I do have my attachments to you and Walter."

Alex smiled wanly. "Then we can hardly expect you to provide us with fat pigeons for roasting! Oh, well, it was a nice consideration."

Mulder chuckled as he lay out his bedroll. "Sorry, Alex, I wish I could. Perhaps I may tie a bow around my ankle to remind me when I am the hawk, but I can't promise that I shall comply."

As Alex finished the last of his meal, Mulder gestured towards him. "Why don't you share the bedroll with me? It's cold, and it will do to preserve our body heat."

The prince's motive was fairly transparent, but Alex decided against refusing. He was wet and chilled, and exhausted to boot, and the bedroll with the stunning prince lying inside made too tempting an invitation to resist. Climbing into the bedroll, he huddled up against Mulder as close as he dared, and then made as if to go to sleep, lying with his back towards the prince.

He heard a soft chuckle. "What a lovely gift you are presenting to me, Alex! How can I go to sleep with this up against me? I'm not made of wood, you know!" Alex jumped in the next moment as he felt the soft touch of the prince's hand on his backside.

He turned around to face Mulder in a panic. "My lord, you promised me!"

"I did no such thing!"

"But the captain, he tried to kill me—"

Mulder shook his head. "I am sorry for that, Alex, but he will see in good time that we are all meant to be together. I refuse to give you up, delectable one, and if I have to issue a royal command to that effect, so be it."

Alex was in shock. Mulder smiled back at him. He'd realized that with how intimidated Alex felt by Walter, a strongarmed approach was the only one that would work. "Wha-what would be the royal command?"

"That he accept you as our friend and lover."

Alex was still numb. It seemed like a dream come true, to have both Prince Mulder and Walter of Navarre…indeed, he couldn't choose between the two of them if his life depended upon it. Each one fueled a different, roaring desire within him to touch, to love, to possess and be possessed. The prince was the embodiment of pure perfection, so loving, elegantly sensuous and beautiful that the mere sight of him naked could make Alex come, while Walter…Walter represented all that was strong (like a mountain), caring, steadfast and noble. He couldn't control his desire for either of them if he tried.

Mulder couldn't help chuckling at Alex's astonished look. "Don't worry, Alex, we don't have to make love if you are still worried about Walter's reaction. However, tell him this for me, tomorrow—"

He gave Alex a deep, sensuous kiss. When the prince finally pulled away, he was amused by the dazed look in Alex's eyes. "And I promise you, when he does come 'round, the entire army of the Bishop's soldiers won't be able to keep me from you!

"Now, we must rest…it's been an especially difficult day and night for you. Those wounds must heal and resting properly will ensure a speedy recovery."

Alex's expression of pouting disappointment made the prince laugh a second time. The slave then turned his back on the prince, forgetting how Mulder had teased him, and settled down to sleep. Even as he was drifting off into sleep, however, Alex was intensely aware of the prince's erection nudging his lower hip.

****

Sunlight shone through the opening of the cave and upon Alex's face. As if from a great distance, he heard the shrill cry of a hawk, and the answering growl of a wild beast, but his only weary response was to turn over onto his stomach to shield himself from the noise.

Suddenly he was jolted awake by the toe of a man's boot prodding his shoulder. "I know you're awake, boy!" Walter of Navarre muttered angrily. "Come on, there's no time to waste, we must continue on our way before the Bishop's men catch up with us!"

Alex sat up and rubbed his eyes. Focusing blearily upon the stern captain's form, he was once again struck with fear.

Seeing how the slave cowered, Walter sneered down at him. "Don't worry, little rat, I won't attack you! It is apparent that the prince still wants you with us, and as long as you behave yourself, I see no reason why we can't…can't use you."

His eyes traveled downward, seeing the huge scratches on the man's chest. "What is this? Who did this to you?"

Alex dropped his eyes. "You did, my lord."

"I did? When?"

"When I was pulling you out of the icy pond. Don't you remember, captain?"

Walter shook his head in amazement. "I did this, to you?" He hated the way the bright red slashes violated the perfect flesh. He felt a shame as intense as he'd never known, and a rush of heat as he surveyed the lovely slave's body.

"I---I'm so sorry, Alex. I would never have hurt you this way," Walter said unhappily, looking away. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

"It wasn't your intention, my lord, you weren't yourself."

Walter sighed miserably. "But I was myself yesterday morning, when I called you 'whore' and put my hands around your neck!"

Alex gave him a weary smile. "That much is true, sir. However, you were right, I am a whore—"

"No you are not, Alex!" Walter responded emphatically, "You are not! I can't explain my actions…I was angry enough to kill, but I couldn't…I couldn't kill you! I was damn jealous, but…not just for the prince. For you, too, Alex! I was your first, and the thought of you both making love..without me…I couldn't stand it, and you were an unhappy target for my unjust rage and frustration."

The captain knelt down by Alex's side. "Can you ever forgive me, Alex?" Walter pleaded, reaching out to stroke Alex's cheek. "For my losing control and for all this violence done to your lovely, lovely body?"

Alex was aghast. More surprises from these two exceptional men than he'd ever had in a lifetime of living! "My lord, it was not your fault. As the wolf, you did not know what you were doing. As for yesterday morning, I was a wanton slut and had no right—"

"Enough, Alex, I do not want to hear you blame yourself again," Walter said, standing up. "I have a suspicion that the elixir of those two foolish gentlemen was to blame. They called themselves tyros in sorcery..tyros indeed! I should have known better. Malvin will get an earful from me, you can rest assured."

Walter looked towards the cave entrance. "Come, Alex, we'd best move on," he continued dolefully, not looking at the slave, "I'll go feed Goliath while you dress. Put some balm on those scratches. I do not want to ever see them scar!"

Obediently, Alex smoothed the balm over the scratches before getting dressed. He took the last of their meagre rations out of the pannier, and made them a meal.

Having already eaten well during the night, Walter made sure that Alex ate his fill, before eating the remainder. We'll have to try to buy some supplies on the road. When we spot a likely place, we'll keep you, Goliath, and Fox, out of sight. I'll go on alone, hopefully that way anyone who comes along afterwards, looking for our party, won't get any clues to our whereabouts.

"My Lord, you-"

"Walter," he was gently corrected.

"Walter... you'd better change your appearance," Alex said with a slightly amused expression. "You are rather a distinguished looking man, and it would be easy to recognize you from a description."

Skinner nodded his acceptance of the warning. "I'll give that some thought on the way. I'll go saddle Goliath, while you pack up the camp."

Alex watched Skinner walk out of the cave, admiring the trim body until it was out of sight, then packed the saddlebags, and erased the traces of their fire, before joining him outside.

It was a chill morning, and Alex snuggled into Walter's warmth as they slowly rode on their way. As the sun rose higher, and they started to drop down into a fertile valley, they found an abandoned farmhouse.

They dismounted, and Walter poked around the crumbling buildings, not really expecting to find much, for it was obvious that others had been there before them. In the remainder of what was once a workshop, he found some short lengths or rope, and some shavings with which he replenished his tinder box.

Leaving Walter to search the buildings, Alex climbed the ridge behind the house, searching for anything that might be edible. As his head topped the rise, a movement to the south caught his eye. With a feeling of foreboding he immediately dropped to the ground, shading his eyes, squinting into the sun. Light flashed from a helmet, and he wriggled backwards, then took flight down the hillside.

Walter seeing him coming, went back to stand by his horse.

"Captain, there's a troop of about ten soldiers coming along the ridge way," Alex gasped, as soon as he was close enough to be heard. "They will be in sight of the valley in a few minutes... we have to hide."

Skinner nodded. He looked at the house and shook his head; not a good idea to hide there. He looked around, and smiled. Across what might once have been a road, was a large oak tree. Boosting the panting man into the saddle, he quickly led Goliath into the shade of the massive branches.

"Climb up, not too far, but keep to this side of the trunk," he instructed the younger man, as he stripped his saddle from the horse, and hid it amongst the roots. Next, he forced Goliath to lie down as he had trained him to do, then climbed up into the tree himself.

They were only just in time. Alex's breathing was still a bit laboured, when the troop halted at the top of the rise. Walter recognized the leader as Luis, a bastard Spaniard the bishop had placed in the guard, much to his Captain's disgust. Luis, sent some of this men to search the ruins, then stood up in his stirrups and scanned the horizon for any movement.

After a few minutes his men returned, reporting that they had found nothing. Luis, sad back in the saddle, then pointing off to his left, he led his men forward and out of sight.

"That was close," Walter muttered after a while, jumping down to the ground. "We'd better be on our way before they decide to come back this way."

Alex joined him on the ground, and helped Walter re-saddle his horse.

They they followed the road, and were soon passing between fields of growing vegetables. In some there were gatherers at work, digging legumes or cutting cabbages to take fresh to the market. Alex, wise to the ways of the road, asked Walter to let him down, then went into one of the fields and greeted the farmer. After a few words, he handed over a small coin, then went to the discard piles and helped himself to the best of the stunted or misshapen vegetables, that would otherwise either end up as animal feed, or be left to rot.

Walter sat patiently on his horse, not quite knowing what to do, but as Alex hadn't even looked his way, he guessed that he was supposed to do nothing. After a while he did start to wonder how Alex proposed to carry the growing pile, but that was answered when the younger man took off his tunic, knotted the end where the holes for neck and arms were, and used the remainder s a makeshift sack.

Calling a cheery goodbye to the farmer, Alex returned to Walter's side and then, with a quiet, "Follow me," he started walking down the road.

When they were out of sight, Walter halted Goliath, and used some of the rope he had found to tie the improvised sack to the pommel. Alex again got up behind him, and almost as soon as they started off again, Fox joined them, and rode sedately on Walter's arm, not taking the slightest bit of notice of Alex sitting behind him.

Some time later, when they spotted a farmhouse in the distance, Walter led Goliath into the trees, and found a glade in which to tether the horse. Alex, his chest and arm both paining him a little, sat cross-legged on the ground leaning back against a tree, glad to get some rest, while the gyrfalcon, perched on the pommel of Goliath's saddle, stared unblinkingly at him.

Walter, using his cloak and some of the rope to disguise himself as a wandering cleric, walked up to the house, and spent some time haggling over the price of a loaf of bread and some roast meat.

Back at the clearing they made a small fire and roasted some of the vegetables by spearing them on sticks and holding them in the flames, while eating a few slices of bread and meat.

Seeing the falcon eyeing his meal, Alex tossed a sliver of meat towards him.

Fox strutted forward, cocked his head and eyed the morsel, then picked it up and swallowed it. Alex threw him another, and the falcon again swallowed the tidbit.

"What are you up to?" Walter questioned.

Alex shrugged. "He looks hungry, and I was trying to instill the concept of sharing...." He gave the bird another piece of meat. "Roast meat tastes nice, doesn't it? Please try to remember to bring us nice plump rabbit to cook next time you're hunting."

Walter laughed, startling Fox into ruffling his feathers. "Come on, we'd best be on our way."

Wearily Alex got to his feet, and packed their things away, then climbed up into his place behind Walter.

-oo0oo-

Just before evening, they made camp in a shallow cave, and made another meal from their supplies. As the sun started to set Prince Fox swooped down and Alex's heart wrenched as he watched the transformation, wishing there was something he could do to bring this nightmare existence to an end.

While Fox dressed and settled down to the waiting meal, Alex threw the almost bare bone to the wolf, who sank down and gnawed on it, watching until the two men snuggled down in each other's arms, then, with a whine, he got up and padded away.

-oo0oo-

Alex came sluggishly awake the next morning, and the eyes that he fixed on Skinner were fever bright.

Walter lifted Alex's head and gave him some water, then took a look at his injuries. Without comment, Skinner fetched the balm and smoothed some over the angry looking scratches on Alex's chest, and the deep cut on his left arm. While helping him to get dressed again, it soon became obvious that the young man really wasn't in any condition to move on... unless.... He smoothed back the dark, damp hair, and captured the wandering green eyes with his own.

"Alex," he said gently, "We need to keep moving. I can't carry you as you are, but I could do so easily if you were in your rat form."

The worried frown which had marred the handsome features, faded and a look of concentration took their place. Moments later, Walter was stroking the downy fur of a young rat. He picked the small animal up and placed it on his cloak while he finished packing up the camp, then tucked him inside his shirt, before climbing into the saddle.

They travelled thus for two days, by the end of which, Alex was well again. It seemed that the magic involved into turning into a rat sped the healing process along.

Walter rode hard and fast, guarding the little creature against the worst of the bumpy ride with his free hand. At the noon meal, Alex didn't change back, choosing to husband his strength and nibble on the pieces of raw vegetables that Skinner sliced off for him.

On the afternoon of the second day, when the falcon came gliding in, Alex scrambled back into the safe haven inside Walter's shirt, just in case the Prince should take a fancy to a eat a rat. Indeed the falcon waddled close to where Walter was sitting, and cast a beady eye at the small creature peeking out at him, but made no attempt to attack.

"Have you eaten well, my Prince?" Walter murmured, stroking the neck feathers of his changed love. The Hawk's head bobbed forward, as if to say 'yes'. Walter, sighed and went on quietly, "You know, Alex was right. It's a pity neither of us can remember to bring back some fresh meat... I am going to have to find some way to get some money to buy enough provisions to last us a while, we need a bow to bring down larger game, and a sword so that I can teach Alex how to use one. In another few days we shall be near my home, but I would be foolish to think that I could ride up to it in broad daylight and demand to be served, but how else can I claim my property...."

He woke in darkness, hot beneath the fine silk sheets. He had been woken to whimpers and filled with fear. AT first he was disorientated by both the soft urgent sounds and by the feeling of fear. Wondering who was making such disgusting noises in his bedchamber, until he realized it was he who was whining in the darkness. The sheets clung to his body in a paste of perspiration that smelled akin to the emotion he woke with. Pungent, dark, and primal. He shuddered and then lay still, allowing himself several calming breathes before the fear left him, evaporating along with the dream. A dream he could never recall, but one in which he was sure he dreamed nightly.

Damned.

He knew he was that. His night fears were only one small annoyance to remind him of his state. Though he was no Pope lover, despite his ability to have climbed high in the Church before finally being excommunicated, he fully believed in the Church's dire warnings of Hell. He simply could care less about it. When he was awake that was. Ambition was his vice, power his only true love, and he had faith only in himself.

He tore off the offensive sheets and those fine bits of fabric were soon followed by his long, modest sleeping gown. He got out of bed as quickly as he could, as if further escaping whatever demons haunted and prowled in his dreams, moving to the washbasin. He would bathe later, but for now he would wash what remained of his sweat away and quickly dressed. His own nudity offended him. Not for any moralistic reason, rather a profound distaste for his own sagging skin and weak muscles. Aging was the only true crime in the world. And that was placed solely at the feet of the Creator. A wicked joke among many that He had played on his creation. There were ways to get around aging, he supposed. More dark tricks to bargain for, but assuaging mere vanity would not gain him greater power. And thus it was something to put off until his body threatened to fail him al together. And while his naked body was no longer a vision of youth and beauty, nor had it ever been, it was merely an inconvenience. Something easily covered in his robes.

The man he had summoned would be waiting outside his chamber. He knew this without any evidence to support the knowledge. Nor was it simply assumption: he had called the man had come. No, it was a trick really. A gift. He simply knew things.

Sometimes.

His fists tightened on his soft undergown as he thought of the moment it had failed him. The series of moments actually. And all to do with Prince Fox and the twice-damned Captain Skinner. He had never once suspected, or in his own special way *known* what was happening under his nose. The Prince had nothing to do with promoting his own power, and yet had been to him like a gift. Nothing like those he had bargained for with the one who gave power to the ruthless, but a gift nonetheless. His Prince. Fox. Fox with the face that made him want to weep. Such beauty. The face of love, he had called him. And meant it.

Gone!

In love with another.

His rage at the finding out of the secret liaison had been so black, so foul, that he could scarcely keep from ordering their deaths. Both Fox's and Skinner's. Instead he had bargained for a curse. A curse to cut to the heart of the two lovers as nothing else could. Eternal separation. It was glorious, he thought as he dressed himself, clumsily, more used to servants doing this mundane task. It had been a short-lived glory, he had found. For though he had indeed separated the two lovers he had let his Prince fly from him. With Skinner! The curse was, like many things from his dark god, twisted and designed to evoke ever more *bargains* with him.

But the Bishop knew one way to end this farce without any help. The lure of hurting the two for an eternity of separation, which had so appealed to him, only a few short days ago, was now unacceptable. He would kill Skinner and then bring his Prince back to heal. This time fully under heel. No more limpid longing looks. No more shaking hands outstretched to touch that fine skin. He would take the Prince the way he should have taken him from the first, fiery moment when the Prince had set him aflame.

"I will sleep with his skin over my pillow," the Bishop growled, thinking of Skinner. The Captain who had betrayed him. So thinking, and only half-dressed, the Bishop opened the double doors to his out chamber and went to meet the reeking man who stood, staring expressionlessly at him. Filthy. Bloody. Skins of wolves his clothing. The wolf killer's eyes were only partially sane. A wild black beard engulfed his face, so thick that only the bridge of his nose and those eager, mad eyes were visibly. His long hair was in thick strands of grease, as filthy as the skins he bore.

Not bothering to greet the man, the Bishop went to a gold armoire and from a small hidden drawer he pulled out a plain white pouch, with a drawstring top. He let the wolf killer hear the clink of metal in the pouch before turning back to him. "There is a man I want you to kill. Not a man. A wolf. A black wolf. He travels by night, only by night."

The wolf killer did not move, his eyes showed no glimmer of interest. Killing wolves was not what the Bishop wanted. He knew that much. Wolves prowled the countryside like the plague, but the Bishop in his fine city would care nothing for that.

"A man travels with him." The Bishop's eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the image of his Prince. "A beautiful man. With eyes like the sea, and the lips of an angel. A man the wolf loves. A Prince. Find the Prince and you find the wolf. The would you are to kill and bring his skin to me. But harm not a hair on the Prince's head. Bring him to me alive or your days on this earth will be long and filled with pain."

The wolf killer grinned. Then nodded.

The Bishop tilted his head a bit, thinking to himself. "There is another traveling with them. A slave. Tricky that one. Kill him."

"Should I bring his skin to you too," the wolf killer spoke for the first time.

The Bishop didn't know if the wolf killer was being sarcastic. There was no sing on his face, but he narrowed his frosty gaze on him. "Do what you like to him, but be sure to kill him." He drew in a small breath, "I will surely know if you fail me." He tossed the bag of coins to the large man. "There will be triple that when you return."

The wolf killer nodded and backed out of the room. Knowing at least enough not to turn his back on one so exalted as the Bishop. He made his way back to the fresh outdoors. A world he knew better than the painted halls of the palace. The servants scurried out of his path as they hurried to the Bishop's chamber, knowing somehow that he had wakened and were no doubt going to fall at his feet in worship. The wolf killer smiled at the thought. He didn't bother to check the coins until he was in the outer courtyard and climbing upon his mule. In the murky light of the predawn hours he couldn't see the color of the coins. He bit into each as soon as he had passed through the gates, and his teeth sunk into the soft metal. His eyes widened. Ten coins, and all gold. A fortune. And more where that came from.

He knew where to start his hunt. All had heard whispers of the Prince and his lover the former Captain of the Bishop's guards. He knew where they were headed. Knew how to track. And knew best of all how to trap a wolf.


%%

Fox wandered about the campsite. His Captain had stopped beside a brook, but far enough away form it that they would be hidden from any who traveled by night. There was a thick copse of trees surrounding them and Goliath had one of his back legs raised, sleeping soundly despite Fox's movements. Alex was sleeping as well. His body curled under a rough blanket on the rough ground as if he were in the most comfortable bed in the kingdom. Fox envied him that. He envied him his ability to adapt to situations so easily. Fox had always considered himself a self-sufficient person. Even though he had servants to do for him, he missed them not at all in those times when he had to do without. He cared not for Court life, and had been quite happy to envision a life with Walter somewhere alone.

He knew where the envy of Alex really lay. Not in his admirable adaptability or even his being able to recall the heat of the day or the beauty of a sunset. It was his time with Walter that he envied. What did they speak of? What did they laugh about? Alex was most charming. So beautiful to look upon and so eager to please. Surely Walter had to love him. Even as he himself was growing to love the little rat. He smiled fondly at the sleeping man. His envy could not eclipse his affection for Alex. But it was there. It made him restless. He wanted to wake Alex. To ask him what plans Skinner had made. Where they had acquired the food that was laid out for him. Laid out by Walter he knew. For Alex had confided that Walter jealously guarded the somber ritual of preparing Fox for his nights as a human.

The love in that made Fox smile. Walter loved him even if he loved Alex in some way as well. The howl of a wolf, his wolf, broke the serenity of the night. Goliath grunted awake and stood on all fours, his nostrils flared and his ears becoming stiffly erect.

"There, there, Goliath. It is only your master," Fox soothed the massive warhorse. He stroked the silken neck and the horse snorted in discomfort. It preferred to be touched only by Skinner. Yet it tolerated both Alex and Fox with almost regal assent. The horse grumbled and shivered as the black wolf loped into camp, its yellow eyes taking up the dying embers of the fire with a metallic glow.

Fox stood well away from Goliath as he knew Skinner would come straight to him, and further outrage Goliath, who was stomping his feet in warning as the large black wolf moved ever closer.

Fox bent to his knees, a safe distance from the horse and it came to him, sniffing him and whining. As if it wondered why it wanted to be near this human. Indeed it did wonder. It smelled prey in the forest and could hear the cries of others of its kind, calling themselves together for a hunt. It longed to race away again, to smell the fear of its prey, to smell its exhaustion, which would signal the end to the hunt. And yet it stayed near. Near enough to scent the human. And sometimes to come closer. It feared the fire and yet it was content to sit near the human beside the fire. It could smell the sadness on the human and licked his face with a small whine.

"One day, Walter," Fox whispered into the wolf's thick pelt. He buried his face in the thick hair, not finding one whisper of his lovers scent hidden in the thick pelt. The wolf was huge. The biggest wolf he had ever seen. "Walter," he sighed.

The wolf caught sight of the moon above and the urge to run again took it. It whined before pulling away from the man. It didn't really want to leave him, but the moon called stronger. He loped away from the fire and paused to sniff at the other sleeping human briefly before disappearing into the night.

The Prince felt tears threatening to come and so he stood abruptly. "One day," he promised again. This time only to himself. He looked toward where Alex slept and was startled to realize that those brilliant green eyes were open and staring at him. There was such a tender look in those eyes that he had to turn away or the tears, those useless signs of weakness, would fall. "I'm sorry I woke you," he whispered. And he was. Alex traveled all day with Walter. He needed to sleep at night.

"Oh you didn't," Alex said quietly. "It was the big wolf breathing down my neck that woke me."

The dry humor in Alex's voice made Fox smile. He turned back to the former slave, seeing that Alex had thrown the top half of the blanket off and was reclining on one elbow, grinning. "One day it won't be the Captain and you'll see one man turn into a rat faster than you have ever seen before."

Fox chuckled. "No you wouldn't."

"Oh yes I would," Alex said cheekily. "And the wolf would be so distracted by trying to find me in the covers you would have the opportunity to save me."

Fox laughed out loud then, a clean and happy sound. "Alex, you really are incorrigible."

"But smart," Alex preened, proud somehow that he could make the Prince smile and laugh. It was almost as good as making the Prince purr and scream. "Would you care to try and find me beneath the covers?" he asked silkily. There was no seduction in his voice, only honest invitation.

Fox hesitated for a moment, but it would be good to simply be held. "Just until you fall asleep again," he said quietly, and even as he said the words he knew they sounded like a lie.

He wanted everything that Alex had to give him. The soft kisses, the hot tongue that could drive him wild in ways he had never been driven wild before. Alex was so eager, so open. So silky hot that Fox was hard already for him. And Alex's eyes, those green, knowing eyes, were burning for him too. He knows, Fox thought to himself. He knows what he does to me.

And he loves it.

So intent on each other, the two beauties would hardly have noticed if a flood rolled over them. Alex just knew that if he lost either Walter or Fox that he would die. Each of them made him feel so alive, not just beautiful...after all the slave dealers found him beautiful. Walter and Mulder expected things of him... that he could think, that he could be brave, and that they could rely on him. They made him want to be worthy of love. He wasn't sure if either of them really loved him or if they used him as a substitute for each other, but if he had to be content with scraps, that was acceptable.

All he knew was that Fox's lips were hot, silken, even as he slaked his thirst for them, he wanted to kiss them again and never stop.

Responding to Fox's urging, Alex curled his legs toward his chest, relaxing for the fingers that coaxed him open. He shivered beneath the touch, wanting it, wanting to feel the strange full sensation of Fox's large cock in him. His desire made him moan and push against the fingers. His eyes closed as Fox grinned down at him. He felt like a slut, but he wasn't ashamed. Fox was his Prince. It was right to give him everything...

But even if Fox had been a peasant, a slave, a no one, he admitted, he would have loved him. Perhaps even better.

A harsh grunt intruded and in a moment, Alex was bereft of the heat, the silken flesh of Prince Mulder.

Alex opened his eyes and saw a horrid face looming over him. Instinctively, his body begin to transform. The man grinned and said, "Do it, little mouse, and I'll take the prince in your place.""

Mulder? Where was the prince? Alex arched up to look and saw him crumpled in an awkward position only a short distance away. He tried to see if the chest was still rising.

"The spoiled brat's alive," the man who pinned Alex said.

Now, that Alex's fears for Mulder were allied, he wanted to hold his breath. The man reeked of blood, feces, sweat, and old food. His teeth were jagged black fangs. His hair was a tangled mass almost indistinguishable from the bloody wolf pelt that rested upon his shoulders.

Alex gasped, "What are you going to do with him?"

"Take him back where he belongs. To the bishop. A milksop like that has no place out here. You on the other hand are wiry except in the place where a man wants a little fat on his pretty boy."

Callused hands stroked Alex's ass to illustrate what he meant. "Now, what is it to be? Will you satisfy me without a lot of squealing and fighting, mind ye, or shall I have the prince? I've never had me a genuine prince..."

Nodding, Alex fell back. He prayed that Walter would come in time to save him and yet, looking at the bloody wolf pelts hanging from the man's evil eyed mule, he half-hoped that Walter was far away. This man knew about killing wolves.

No finesse for this man, he opened his breeches, releasing a foul odor like spoiled cheese. His cock was not as large as Walter's was or as Fox's was, Alex realized. It should not be hard to take it. After all, he was no virgin.

The man's strong hands pried apart Alex's cheeks as if he meant to rip him in half. At the first probe, Alex set his teeth. He knew he should relax, but he couldn't. The man leaned forward as if to kiss him, but instead bit him hard on his nipple. Alex screamed in fear and pain. It felt as if the man meant to bite off the sensitive bit of flesh. Laughing the man released his teeth. There was blood dribbling from his chin.

"I like the taste of you, little pig. Maybe, I'll put you in a stew when I've worn you out," Eyes crossing with concentration, the man shoved inside Alex's rebelling flesh.

Despite having been prepared by Fox, Alex was tight; his orifice drawn closed against the unwelcome intrusion into his flesh. He felt as if he was drowning in ordure, in the man's stench and with his wieght crushing him. All he could think about was turning into a rat. He could leave this and get away in a second. Yet if he did, he didn't doubt that the man would rape Fox and that was an unbearable alternative.

A high pitched scream erupted from Alex's lips as the wolf hunter made his violent thrusts. The ugly face contorted as he came. His body settled atop Alex's for a few moments as he panted.

A mouth with rotten breath crushed his. Alex turned his face away, but the man slapped him and forced his mouth to open. A tongue like a raw piece of liver shoved in his mouth choked him. Alex could feel the stiff badly tanned hides against his tender flesh. The man's belt cut into him and his grasping hands left bruises everywhere. Alex wanted to die. Only the need to protect Fox kept his crushed spirit from fleeing his body.

It what seemed like only moments; the man was pounding into him again. This time the pain and misery yielded to nature's ministry and he fainted.

^^^^^v^^^^^~ o~ ^^^^^v^^^^^

An aching head was the first thing that Mulder knew. One moment he had been about to broach his delicious, if common lover, and the next he was waking here naked and with someone hammering in his ears. He could hear someone keening and he wished that they would shut up. Prying open his bleary eyes, Mulder saw what looked for a moment like Walter in wolf form, hunching over a screaming Alex.

A second glance told him that it was hardly the wolf, which had no interest in mates, human or otherwise. It was a huge man, dressed in wolf pelts and he was raping Alex. As his sweet and sexually naïve lover went silent, Mulder forced his dizzy body toward his discarded sword. He damn well knew how to use that. Walter of Navarre was not inclined to go easy on a student, not even one that was a prince and he was twice as hard on Fox after they fell in love. He wanted Fox to be able to defend himself.

Just as his hand connected with the sword, a boot kicked it away. The wolf-killer brayed laughter and clouted him as he pulled Fox to his feet by the hair. "I'd have you too if the bishop hadn't forbidden it. Instead, you can watch me as I rape you green eyed slave again. Later you can enjoy the sight of me skinning your dear wolf-lover alive. Tell me, pretty prince, do you let the wolf mount you? Does he lock like a dog? Do you like that?"

"You sick bastard..." Mulder spat, "it's not like that at all. Walter would never have me when he is a wolf. He has not interest in such things in wolf form."

A slap stopped his defiance and the man threw him to the ground. As dirty as Fox had learned to fight since leaving his gilded cage, it was useless. The wolf-hunter fought twice as dirty. Soon, Mulder was stretched out on the cold ground, naked and cold. Stakes and straps of hides tethered his wrists and ankles. The wolf-hunter grinned and went back to rummaging through their packs.

A coughing moan told Fox that Alex was waking. As soon as Alex was alert, the man dragged him toward the fire and said, "Make yourself useful. Cook me some soup out of those dried meat and vegetables. I'll want some campfire bread also. Not too hard either. My teeth are bad. Don't know how come you and the prince have such white ones."

"All it takes is a twig of birch or willow, sir, you brush with the splayed ends and your teeth don't rot," Alex said, sounding cowed.

"Too much trouble," the wolf-hunter answered. "Cook my dinner."

"May I dress?" Alex asked.

"No, you look pretty, shivering like that. I'll warm you after dinner," the wolf-hunter said, following up with a deep guttural laugh.

"Well, at least let me cover the prince with some blankets. The bishop's not a man for you to cross. He'll punish you if anything happens to the prince. The man's royalty you know. Not like us common folk. Used to feather duvets and silk, he is." Alex said. "A man like me can endure almost anything, but Fox is an aristocrat, puny." Alex's voice took on a purring tone and he ran a hand over the wolf-hunter's arm. He said, "He's no stallion like yourself. Why before you took me, I might as well have been a virgin. You made me faint with the force of your fucking, but I'll do better. Much, much better. I know just how to make you feel good."

The wolf-hunter's arm snapped out and pushed Alex back from him, sprawling him on his ass. He laughed again and said, "Don't try your lies on me, bucko. I'm no fool. But go ahead and cover the prince up. No use risking the bishop's wrath. I hear he has the devil in his pocket."

Mulder whispered, "Are you all right?" to Alex as his lover stiffly walked over with blankets.

"Don't be whispering," the hunter warned, fletching some wicked looking arrows. Each gleaming head bore a barb toward the end. They were made to maximize the damage. His face with the dark eyes beneath the heavy brows looked like that of a beast. He was the ugliest man that Fox had ever seen. He couldn't bear to think of the man touching Alex again or worse of what would happen if they Walter came back to check on them.

Shivering, Fox looked at the sky. It was a bit lighter. Surely, dawn must be near. If Walter just stayed away a bit longer, Mulder would become a falcon and the bonds would no longer hold him. Alex could transform into a rat after that and warn Walter.

Alex tucked one of the blankets under Fox and draped the other on top. One corner of the blanket fell over his hand and Fox felt a cool touch of bone in his hand. He slid his fingers along the object and realized it was a knife, one of the small ones that Alex wore up his sleeves usually. Understanding he gripped it and said, "You going to be okay?"

Alex shrugged and said, "I guess it was bound to happen to me. At least, it wasn't my first time."

Green eyes looked deep into Fox's and Alex said, "It's a good thing he'll keep busy with me, Prince."

Understanding, Fox nodded and watched as Alex limped away. The marks of the assault were already darkening the fair skin; they seemed profane against the beauty of Alex's body. Fox grunted as the knife slipped, but he didn't mind a little blood. He was a warrior, scion of a race of soldier-kings. He was not born for some bishop's harem but to battle beside men like Walter of Navarre and Alex, former thief, mountebank, and slave, but now his brave companion.

Fox worked steadily, ignoring the pain as the knife slipped more than once and nicked him. He could feel the strand yielding. The hunter had his back against a stunted tree as his troll like face remained intent on the distance. His bow and arrows stood ready; he bristled with his other weapons.

The small stew pot bubbled and the soup smelled good. Fox had forgotten that he had not eaten before decided to make love to Alex. Perhaps he had been unsuccessful at hunting and had gone hungry in his bird form as well. The hunter said, "Bring me some of that."

Shivering miserably, Alex walked to the fire and filled a bowl. Mulder moaned as he saw the blood streaking from Alex's ass. He would make the wolf hunter pay for that. The last strands of the hide rope parted and Mulder used the cover of Alex's movements to transfer the knife to his other hand.

The hunter ate like a big, slurping down two bowls before burping loudly, wiping his grizzled face on his filthy sleeve and reaching for Alex. He pulled his toy across his lap and kissed him, his hand busily roving over the hard muscular body.

The wolf-killer still looked up, but he was increasing preoccupied with Alex's body. At last, his lust defeated his wariness and he made Alex turn. He apparently thought if he faced the clearing that he could still react in time to grab his bow and arrows. Fox thought he was a fool.

Alex's head hung low and he uttered low despairing moans as the hunter brutalized him. The second wrist was easier to free. Mulder cautiously reached and got one ankle free. He was working on the other when a roar came from the bushes.

No wonder the hunter had been so confident! Mulder could see the wolf-form of his lover dangling from a tree. He was snapping at the air, twisting vainly in an attempt to free himself. The hunter pushed away from Alex, drawing a scream of pain at his abrupt withdrawal. He grabbed his bow and notched an arrow with one smooth moment.

As Mulder threw aside the blankets and sprang to his feet, Alex tackled the man, jarring his aim.

"You'll pay for that," the wolf hunter snarled.

Dawn's first light was dancing over the horizon as Mulder dashed for his sword. A moment's glance told him there was no time. A second arrow was already in place. There was only one thing to do and with a shout, Mulder flung himself into the path. He felt himself changing as he did so. He was half bird, half man when the arrow hit and then...there was nothing.

^^^^^v^^^^^~ o~ ^^^^^v^^^^^

Scrambling to his feet, Alex only knew he must do something quickly. He grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a rock, and pounded it into the wolf hunter's head. As soon as he was sure that the man was not moving, he ran, grabbed up a knife and went to free what was now a cursing Walter of Navarre. He took just a moment to let the man down before running to grab up the hawk. He was afraid it was dead, but it stirred, proud eyes glaring at him. The arrow pierced one wing, not in a vital spot, but he feared it would be worse to remove it. This needed skill.

Taking the hawk from Alex, Walter snarled, "How could you have let this happen?"

A moment later, the stern features softened and Walter said, "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

Reaching toward Alex, the man appeared to want to comfort him. With a shudder, Alex backed away and said, "Don't touch me again. No one ever touches me again. Not for as long as I live."

"He raped you? What about..." Walter asked.

"He didn't touch your prince. I made sure of that," Alex raged. A sob drew from his chest and he realized he still had the knife. He knew what he wanted... to cut the flesh that had wounded him. He'd castrate the wolf hunter!

Looking back, Alex screamed a curse. The man was gone, vanished. Even his mule, which had never been tethered, had escaped from the camp. Alex said, "He got away. The fucker got away. I have to go after him."

"No, we'll take Fox to ...a place not far from here. An almost deserted monastery where a man I know does penance. He'll be able to help Fox," Walter said.

While Alex stiffly and sorely found his clothing, Walter's huge hands cleverly wound clean linen around the arrow after clipping off most of the shaft. Alex tried to wipe the smell of the wolf hunter from his body with a wet rag, but he didn't think he would ever be clean again. Perhaps if he could bathe in the man's blood, he would be able to forget. Even so, Alex doubted that he ever would allow himself to be touched by another man. His soul felt as raw and aching as his body.

His first aid accomplished, Walter packed up the camp hurriedly. He said, "You ride, Alex, and hold Fox. I'll lead."

Flinching away from the formerly welcome touch of his lover, all Alex could do was to worry about Fox and imagine his revenge on the wolf hunter. The bird was panting; beak stretched widely, the red lining showing from the gaping opening. Holding the bird immobile, Alex winced and moved around on the saddle. He was too battered to walk, but riding wasn't comfortable. He wondered how long it would take before he stopped burning inside.

Walter ran as if he was as wolf like as his night form was. He seemed tireless and was swift. Goliath seemed to know something was wrong and he glided. It still jarred Alex's aching flesh. He just wanted to huddle beneath warm blankets someplace safe. He longed for the safety of Pandemonium's wagon and to be rocked by Samson's massive arms. He sniffed and was ashamed of it.

Looking up, Walter said, "I know you've had a rough time of it, Alex. In time..."

"I hate people," Alex said. "I wish I was big and hideous so no one ever desired me."

"Oh, Alex, beauty is a gift," Walter said.

"Yes? What good has it done Fox or me? If he were plain, would the Bishop have desired him? No, the man would have just taken the kingdom and been glad of it, instead of sending demons to chase him down. If I had been ugly, maybe I would have just lived an ordinary life. It wouldn't have been a bad thing to be just a farm worker or something like that," Alex said.

"I think you would have been restless, my love," Walter said.

"You don't love me," Alex said, "You only love Fox. I figured it all out. Because you can't be together, you use me. As soon as your curse is lifted, it's good-bye, Alex. Well, you can forget it. I'm not ever going to have sex again. There must be someplace where I can be safe."

"Alex, I think both Fox and I have grown to love you for yourself. I would be an ogre to want anything from you before you have healed body and soul, but I wish you would at least believe I cared. If it had been me, I would have gladly given myself to spare both of you. What you did was noble, Alex. If I had not loved you before, I would have loved you then. You are a good brave man."

That helped a little, but Alex still didn't want anyone to touch him. He felt so sullied. He wanted a hot bath and to scrub his skin, wash as far inside him as he could reach to get the spunk of that man off him. He shuddered, fancying that he could still smell the man.

Wary eyes studied the passing scenery. It seemed that the wolf hunter might be anywhere. However, nothing happened. Maybe the man was dead someplace. Alex had hit him on the head after all. Sometimes, people with brain injuries got up and walked around then just keeled over and died.

Reading his mind, Walter's deep voice said, "He might be dead, but if he's not, I'll find him. Never fear."

"Okay," Alex said. He swayed, weary and in pain. The falcon stirred in his hands, uttering a creeling sound. "Oh, my poor Prince, I hope you know you are safe and that we are going to help you. You were so brave, Fox."

"Up ahead," Walter said, "See that crooked tower? That's where Deep Throat lives."

"Deep Throat is an odd name," Alex remarked.

"He belongs to an order that vows to give up all of their old identity. They take odd names that set them apart and don't mate or marry. It's a strange monastic bunch. Too bad that they did not give up wine as well. That was his downfall. Deep Throat was Mulder's most trusted advisor and his confessor, but when Mulder confessed to him that he was in love with me and that we wished to marry...well, Deep Throat told the bishop," Walter explained.

"He came to us to warn us and was wounded when they took us, but his fellow monks carried him here and healed him. His penance is to be alone in that tower, rendering help and medical care to all who need him."

^^^^^v^^^^^~ o~ ^^^^^v^^^^^

The man, who came to the gate, looked old and furtive to Alex. He wondered if he still drank too much? Should he be trusted with Fox?

The man reached for the falcon and said, "Is this the Prince?"

"Yes, what do you think? It's day therefore I am a man and he is a falcon. This is your fault, Deep Throat. In a few more hours, we would have been away," Walter spat. He said, "You take care of Fox. I have to go look for the man who did this to the Prince. Take care of Alex as well. He has been abused and is in pain."

Before Alex could protest, he was set on his feet. Walter brushed his hair back from his forehead and said, "I do love you, Alex, and I know Fox does as well."

The kiss was light, but it still panicked Alex. He shied away, hating himself for the way he felt. He knew it was not Walter's fault, but he no longer cared to be touched. He wished he could go to live on a desert island and never see another soul again!

The monk asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" as he took the suffering hawk inside the ruins to tend to it.

"I want a bath. Is there a place to heat water?" Alex asked.

"No, need, I was just about to perform my ablutions. A nice hot bath is prepared. Go on. A hot bath and a tisane to make you forget your woes. You'll find, young man, that things are never as absolute as you think they are."

"And you have been raped how many times?" Alex asked baldly.

"Er, never, but..." Deep Throat said.

"Then you can't understand how I feel," Alex said. "Where's the bath?"

"Right through the door. Do you need stitches? Are you bleeding inside?" the monk asked.

"No, it stopped. I just need a bath. That's all," Alex said.

The bath was exactly as promised. Deep Throat brought him some clean clothing, rich things of green and black that Alex feared would make men look at him with even greater desire, but the monk said that was all he had.

The falcon rested in a box lined with silk. It was no longer panting as badly and its head stirred when Alex touched it. He wished the dark would come soon. It would be easier to tend the Prince in human form and besides, Alex longed to see the Prince again.

When darkness fell, Alex watched the Prince transform. He rested uneasily, a fever bedewing his noble forehead and causing his eyes to glitter. He kept calling for Walter of Navarre and a wolf answered from the wilds outside the tower. Alex sponged off the sweat and pleaded with the Prince to drink the honeyed herb waters that the monk prepared. He knew it wasn't safe to stay here, but the prince was too weak to travel.

It was the next day toward sunset when riders clattered toward them. The Wolf Killer led them and Alex knew great fear. However he would not abandon the Prince nor betray him in any way. He urged Fox higher and higher up the tower, not sure what he meant to do. Now, he prayed harder for the sunset than he had prayed for the dawn.

Fox gasped as he looked at the men below and saw the Wolf-Killer. He said, "Look, he wears a fresh pelt! He's killed our lover! Walter, Walter, oh, Alex, let us fall and join him."

"No, he would want you to live," Alex said. "Come,"

Now guards were clattering after them. Stones crumpled beneath them and Alex found the Prince dangling from his one hand. He would not fail. He must not fail although it felt as if his left arm was being wrenched from the socket. Fox was slipping despite his efforts and now, as sweat made their grip impossible, he fell.

Alex's cry changed from dismay to triumph as the hawk flew away, Fox's robe falling empty to the earth. He smiled defiantly at the guardsman who demanded to know what had happened. "He flew away," Alex said.

Growling, the Wolf Killer dragged him from the castle. Deep Throat said, "Alex, Alex, you must tell them. The curse can be broken if they see each other when it is neither day nor night. They must stand in a night without a day... and a day without a night."

The monk was mad.

As the Wolf Killer dragged Alex onto his mule, whispering foully in his ears of what he would do, the hawk came from the sky and clawed at his eyes. Alex's knife went to the man's throat and cut it clean across. His heart rejoiced to see the fear and surprise in his eyes.

The guards recovered from their shock and made to capture Alex, but now Walter came galloping. He lived. He screamed, "For Navarre! For Honor!"

His fierce attack took the guards by surprise and he spitted two of them. Meanwhile, Deep Throat muttered, "God forgive me," and broke a guard's skull with a stave.

Alex also accounted for one and even Goliath, the stallion trampled one poor fellow, who fell beneath his hooves.

Panting, Alex felt sick from all the stench and death. He asked, "What now, my lord?"

"You can get me back into the church? The bishop will be celebrating mass for it's the feast day of the patron saint of the city. I will kill him and end this."

"Wait, Walter, you must hear me," the monk babbled.

"I have no reason to listen to you. I will end the curse by ending the life that cast it. I have already avoided my honorable obligation too long. Come along, Alex. You must help me now. For love and honor."

"For love and honor," Alex murmured in wonder. He forgot everything but those magic words and went with Walter of Navarre.

^^^^^v^^^^^~ o~ ^^^^^v^^^^^

The Bishop rode ahead of his entourage of loyal soldiers, his brow creased with annoyance. It had been well over a day since he'd dispatched the Wolf Killer to find his Prince and put an end to the vermin who had stolen his affection.

"That damned Wolf Killer! He'd had better succeed in his mission, otherwise I'll have him hanging by his balls in the deepest dungeon!" the Bishop snarled in a most un-Christian like rage.

Merwyn, his guardsman, couldn't help suppress a snicker at the image of the foul Wolf Killer being punished in such a manner. However, he smiled benignly back at the Bishop when his lord turned angrily to him.

"Has no word come from the hunter even yet?"

"No, my lord," Merwyn responded soberly. "He has not returned, and no messenger has arrived with news. The hunter is skilled, I'll grant him that, he has never encountered a wolf that he could not kill. He will achieve in his mission, I am sure, we have often wondered if he consorts with wolves himself, he certainly knows their ways, and smells like one to boot!"

The Bishop glowered at him. "If you speak in this foul manner to me again, your head will adorn a spike in the village square!"

"Yes, my lord," Merwyn responded contritely.

They approached the church where the Bishop was to perform his mass. The villagers were already gathered in the church yard, waiting with expectant faces to see his lordship and his entourage. They had been goaded into obedience by the fierce Bishop and his men, but it was just as good as loyalty as far as the Bishop was concerned.

In the crowd was a short man with an unshaven face and spectacles. Malvin had ridden into the village to see the Bishop and was hiding in the crowd, hoping the man wouldn't notice him. He had heard that the Bishop still sought the prince and his friend, Captain Skinner, and he wanted to gather as much information on their enemy as possible in order to help them, if he could.

He and his two friends had been checking through the book of spells, day and night, trying to find an antidote for the prince and the captain's predicament to no avail. Malvin couldn't help muttering under his breath, cursing the day the evil Bishop had turned his sights upon the gorgeous prince.

"Gentlefolk," the Bishop addressed the crowd in his customarily oily manner, "You honor me with your presence just as you honor our Lord, Jesus Christ, who died for our sins. He who takes pity upon us and forgives our most dire transgressions. Let us pray..."

As the village folk joined the Bishop in prayer, Malvin snorted in disgust. "Forgives our transgressions, my ass! You hope he forgives your transgression, Bishop Spender, otherwise you'll be frying a long time in hell!"

A man with flowing blond hair appeared at his elbow. "Malvin, what are you doing here? I thought you were afraid of Bishop Spender!"

"I'm trying to help Captain Skinner and the lovely Prince Mulder," Malvin hissed back. "It's true that if they can get the prince back on the throne, we shall have a much easier time of it."

Rollo squinted into the crowd. "Well, I don't know what you can do, that man is guarded by a battalion. Perhaps we can find a weakness-"

"This is an information-gathering mission, Rollo! I'm no swordsman and neither are you, I warrant! Just keep your mouth shut and listen," Malvin snapped.

Suddenly Malvin got the feeling that they were being watched. He turned and saw a handsome, red-haired gentleman in a long cloak, as if he were a member of the holy orders, leaning against a stone wall and gazing at them intently. The hair on the back of Malvin's neck stood on end. Could this man be a spy for the Bishop?

As the man moved forward, Malvin found it difficult to breathe. He grabbed Rollo's arm, feeling faint, who turned in surprise to face the mysterious man approaching them.

Before Rollo could get his words out, the man addressed them. "Good day, Malvin! I am surprised to see you in these parts, it is no place for close friends of the good captain."

"Who are you?" Malvin managed to choke out. Rollo looked frantically over at the Bishop's soldiers, wondering when they would be surrounded and arrested.

"I am Christian Saint George, one of Captain Skinner's loyal soldiers. After the damned Spaniard took the good captain's place, I deserted the Bishop's guard, along with several other soldiers loyal to Captain Skinner. We had no desire to be flogged to death as traitors."

Malvin looked askance at the crowd in front of the church. "Let us go somewhere where we can speak in peace."

The three men walked away from the village square, far from the crowd, passing a tavern and inn. They then turned up a winding, narrow alleyway where they could meet in private. Most of the villagers were attending the Bishop's mass, so it was not too difficult to find a deserted location.

After looking around to make sure they were alone, Christian addressed the three men. "There is a faction within the Bishop's army that is most sympathetic to the prince and Captain Skinner. They despise the Bishop, and they would do all in their power to unseat him and place the good Prince Mulder in his stead."

Rollo and Malvin looked at each other, startled. "This is a most welcome development!" whispered Malvin to Rollo. "In order to succeed, they both need the might of the army behind them."

"If the Bishop falls, the others will join. It is only the fear he engenders that keeps the evil tyrant in power."

Malvin shook his head. "The curse must be lifted in order for the Bishop to be defeated."

"That much is certain," Christian agreed. "You are a healer. Can you tell us how to counteract this wretched spell?"

"I wish I knew, friend," sighed Malvin. "If I did, it would behoove me to employ this skill forthwith."

Rollo thought for a moment. "I have been researching this sort of spell. It is a spell to hinder the two from conjoining. One is a hawk while the other is a man, one is a wolf while the other is a man, and so on. If there was a way to prolong the period when the two of them are both men, perhaps this spell would be broken."

Christian shook his head sorrowfully. "And how do you propose to do that, my good man?"

"I don't know! But there must be a way...there has to be! All spells can be cast, and all spells can be broken!" Rollo said vehemently.

"I certainly hope so. The men cannot follow a hawk prince and a wolf captain, that much is certain! You'd better go back to your books, as the future of Aquila depends upon it."

Malvin spoke. "If such a thing were indeed to occur, Master Saint George, may we depend upon your assistance and that of your friends?"

Christian's handsome visage lit up with a brilliant smile. "My good man, you have my word upon it!"

****

Captain Skinner rode with Alex through the forest that surrounded the village of Aquila. He was eager to arrive at their destination so he could put an end to the Bishop, the blight of his and Fox's love from the beginning.

The ride wasn't easy on Alex, who was still sore from his violation at the hands of the Wolf Hunter. His wounds had been tended to as best as he could manage. However, the wounds branded upon his soul weren't so easily mended. When Walter reached for him, he shied away.

Walter sighed. "Alex, I was just wondering how you were feeling!"

"I don't want to be touched, my lord. I thought you understood that," he responded coldly.

They rode in silence. Alex could see Fox overhead. His wing was partially mended but he still flew with difficulty. Two wounded creatures, he thought with despair. He wondered how it would all end.

"My lord, where do you propose to kill the Bishop?"

Walter snorted. "During his mass. He is no longer aligned with the Church. We need not fear their wrath."

Alex couldn't help shuddering. "It is still His Holy House, my lord. You cannot mean to commit murder in His House!"

Walter looked at him. "Do you fear for my immortal soul, Alex?" he asked dryly.

"I fear for all our souls, my lord," he responded lamely.

Walter shook his head. "Do not be afraid, sweet one. I will wait until the mass is ended and then kill the Bishop as he comes out. Though for the life of me, I cannot imagine that sorcerer conducting any mass other than a black mass! We may see demons and the hounds of hell come roaring out as the doors of the cathedral swing open."

The two men could see the village of Aquila down in the valley. Alex tugged on the reins to stop Goliath, and they both gazed down upon the village in a tense silence. The hawk flew down with a loud shriek to land upon Walter's shoulder.

Walter took him upon his wrist. "There is your kingdom, my love. It is yours by right. We left in disgrace but will return in triumph. We will be returning to an Aquila far different from the one which exiled us."

"I hope you are right, my lord!"

"I am right. And my dearest Fox knows that this is the only recourse. If we die by the Bishop's hand, the death would be far sweeter than the living hell he has impressed upon us. We would die together, since we cannot live together, and we will be together for all eternity." Walter responded gravely.

Tears sprang to Alex's eyes. Despite his rejection of the captain since his heinous rape, he could not imagine continuing his life without him and the prince. "We'll succeed, my lord, have no fear," he said firmly, trying to convince himself as well.

Walter smiled fondly at Alex after hearing his declaration. "That is good, sweet Alex! For love and honor, then?"

"For love and honor, my lord!"

Walter chuckled but in the next minute turned his eyes back to the hawk prince upon hearing his loud shriek. Suddenly the sky had grown dark, and Walter looked up into the sky, startled, certain that he would find that a large cloud covered the sun. As the day turned darker than any cloud could bring about, he exclaimed, "This is most unnatural, Alex! Could this be another spell from that accursed Bishop?"

Suddenly Alex understood what Deep Throat had been telling them. He gasped in shock, "My lord, this is what Deep Throat was trying to tell us! 'The curse can be broken if they see each other when it is neither day nor night. They must stand in a night without a day... and a day without a night.' I thought he was insane, but..."

As he turned to look back at the captain, Alex cried out in amazement. The hawk prince was transforming. Alex gazed upon the very human form of Prince Fox, who sat facing the captain astride his horse, not perched upon his arm. The prince regarded the captain with fierce love as his body shuddered and took shape before their very eyes.

Walter gazed at the prince in pure astonishment. The two lovers were suddenly looking upon each other in whole form, as they stood in a night without a day, and a day without a night.

Oblivious to the world, Walter and Fox wrapped their arms around one another, their lips meeting in a searing kiss.

Alex looked on in wonderment, his heart felt so full that his eyes brimmed with tears. Time seemed to stand still.

Then, with a suddenness which restarted time for them, men on horseback emerged from the forest and surrounded them.

Alex drew his knife and stood at bay, while Skinner threw his cloak around Fox and tried to draw his sword.

"Be easy, my friends," Malvin called out from where he was perched behind one of the riders. "None here will harm you."

The men swung down from their horses, and one came forward to kneel near Goliath. "Your Highness, my Lord Walter, we have left the Bishop's employ to offer our services to the rightful ruler of our land."

Alex retrieved Fox's clothes from the saddlebag, and helped him down from Goliath's back and shielded him while the prince got dressed.

Walter looked at the men with a feeling of pride, and when it became obvious that Fox was too stunned by the turn of events to say anything, he spoke up. "Well met Christian. On behalf of His Highness and myself, I welcome you. Get your men remounted and make sure that we are not disturbed, we need to make plans."

"You haven't got time for plans...." Deep Throat's voice called out to them.

"Apologies my Lord," Saint George rumbled. "We picked up this madman some way back, he says he has important news for you. I'll get one of the men to..."

The old tutor rushed forward. "You must listen to me. You must confront the Bishop, together, while the sun is still covered, otherwise the curse will continue."

Walter turned white under his tan, and looked towards Aquila. "How long have we got?" he asked.

The old priest shook his head in sorrow. "I don't know, that was not revealed to me."

"Then we must ride into Aquila now," Walter decided. "Perhaps-"

"He's not there," Malvin interrupted. "He went to say mass at San Marco this morning, we saw him there. In fact, he should be somewhere on the road not far behind us."

"Even better. That saves us hunting for him." He looked around at the ex-soldiers who had followed Saint George. "Giuseppe, I want you and Carlo to give your horses to Prince Fox and Alex. Guard Malvin, Rollo and the others well, I am placing their safety in your hands."

No sooner were Alex and Fox mounted, than Walter drew his sword and led them at a canter along the road towards the church of San Marco. As the precious minutes ticked by, Walter's heart sank. He wanted to urge Goliath to go faster, but was mindful of the old priest's warning that he and Fox would have to confront the Bishop together, so he kept to a pace that the other riders would be able maintain.

Riding towards the occluded sun, the winding road between the trees seemed longer than it ever had before. The weird half-light, although brighter than moonlight, gave them a feeling of dread, of maybe even galloping towards the gates of Hell.

Alex rode close beside the Prince who was looking increasingly strained, ready to lend assistance should it become necessary.

Rounding a corner they burst out from between the trees to an open plateau to find the Bishop and his men with their backs to them, staring heavenwards.

At the sound of thundering hoofs, Bishop Spender turned and stared... horror-stricken at the sight of Walter of Navarre, Prince Fox and Alex, his former slave, bearing down on him in the midst of a group of armed men.

As the Bishop's eyes touched first Walter's face, then Fox's, each man felt a shiver pass through him, and felt stronger; more determined than ever that the evil man should not survive the encounter.

Alex saw Fox sit straighter in his saddle and felt his heart jump... the curse must surely be broken now, all that remained was to ensure that the vile old man could never threaten any of them again.

Instinctively the Bishop moved behind his guards, leaving them to bear the brunt of the attack. His clerk, and two members of his personal guard moved back with him to give him extra protection.

Undeterred Walter pressed forward, slashing right and left, his loyal men formed a wedge around Fox and Alex and followed their former captain into the fray. Although outnumbered, their superior skill, and their sense of fighting for justice, gave them the edge.

Sitting straight in the saddle of his grey horse, the Bishop angrily watched the fight with narrowed eyes, noticing that although Skinner's companions worked hard to maintain the shield around the two, less experienced, young men, the gaps between the fighting groups were getting wider.

As his men started to fall, Spender's anger grew... and grew, until the one dominant thought in his mind was revenge. He couldn't get close to Skinner, and it didn't look as if anyone was going to be able to stand against their former captain, so before the warrior had a chance to put an end to his life, he was going to take the one thing from him that made his life worth living... Prince Fox, and if the pretty rat got in his way then he would die too.

Taking his golden staff from the clerk, he pressed a button hidden amongst the jewels on the cross, and a long, narrow blade slid out from its hiding place at the bottom of the shaft. Tucking it beneath his arm like a lance, he ordered his guards forward, trusting them to clear his path, and charged full tilt at where the prince was fighting off an attacker.

Walter saw the Bishop's charge, quickly despatched his attacker, and set off after Spender.

Alex also saw Fox's danger, and ignoring any danger to himself, kicked his horse into a gallop and tried to head off Spender's charge. A few moments later, his horse crashed into the left hind quarter of the grey, throwing it off balance. Spender, unable to maintain his seat on the stumbling horse, tumbled to the ground, and beneath the hoofs of Goliath.

His cry of rage became an unearthly wail which grew louder and louder causing the combatants to cease fighting and turn as one to stare at the fallen cleric. The wail cut off suddenly, then a dark shadow arose from the corpse, threw its head back and howled at the sky before the earth seemed to open up and swallow it. After a few moments the corpse shrivelled to a husk.

Ashen-faced, the Bishop's men dropped their swords, which were immediately picked up by Skinner's equally shaken companions.

"The Devil has reclaimed his own," Skinner murmured, then pulled himself together, and rode over to where Fox and Alex were both staring at the corpse with fascinated horror. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Your Highness. What are your orders?"

Fox looked up startled at the formal address, then realized that with the Bishop's death he would have to assume his rightful place, or risk his Kingdom falling apart, and with that position came some obligations. Squaring his shoulders, he looked Walter in the eye, and said, "Have them bury the dead, Lord Walter, except for the Bishop. We had best take him to Aquila with us so that the general populace can see his corpse for themselves."

"I will see to it, Your Highness."

Fox nodded, then turned his horse and urged it away from the centre of the plateau. "Come, Alex, let us move out of the way while they clear up the mess we have made."

Alex followed Fox into the shade of the trees.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue, Alex. Without your actions I fear that the Bishop's plan may have been successful."

Alex suddenly found the pommel fascinating, a rosy blush creeping up his cheeks.

They watched in silence as Walter directed two men to get the cloaks of the fallen soldiers and wrap the remains of the Bishop in them, two others he told to make a litter for the corpse to be carried on, then appointed Christian Saint George as his second in command, to oversee the burials. When everything was being done to his satisfaction, Walter joined Fox and Alex under the trees. He gripped Alex's shoulder for a moment.

"Thank you for coming to Fox's aid, Alex...." Then he smiled wryly, "We never did get very far with your training, did we? However, you acquitted yourself very well today. I'm proud of you."

"We both are," Fox added quietly.

For the second item in a few minutes Alex blushed, embarrassed by the fulsome praise, and muttered, "It just seemed the right thing to do...."

Walter and Fox were seized with an identical longing to take the young man in their arms, but present circumstances precluded addressing one another in anything but formal terms.

After a while the silence between them became uncomfortable, and they were relieved when Saint George reported that they were ready to start on the journey back to Aquila.

Walter turned his horse, and with Fox beside him, led the way back the way they had come. While they had the chance, they discussed what they would do when they reached the city, which very much depended on the mood of the crowd when they heard the news of the Bishops death.

When they reached the spot where they had left their friends, they were greet with sighs of relief. Walter quickly told them what had happened, then those without horses were mounted on some of the spares, then they escorted Prince Fox to Aquila to claim his birthright.

Naturally, they were stopped at the gates to the city, but the fact that the party contained both past and present members of their unit, prevented any hostile action on the part of the guards. Once they had shown them the dead Bishop's body, they were allowed to enter the city unmolested.

By the time they reached the piazza the news of Bishop Spender's death had preceded them, and a large crowd had gathered.

Walter ordered a trestle to be brought forth, so that the evil cleric's remains could be viewed by the curious. Dismounting, Skinner urged Fox to accompany him and they climbed the Cathedral steps together. Turning to face the crowd, he announced in a deep, penetrating voice, "Behold, the Bishop is dead. I present to you the rightful ruler of Aquila, His Royal Highness, Prince Fox."

The crowd cheered wildly. The King Guillermo, Fox's father, had been a kindly man, and sorely missed, for while he had been alive he had managed to restrain the excesses of the Bishop.

Prince Fox stepped forward at Walter's introduction, and held his hands up for silence. "Thank you for welcoming me home.... I would like to take this opportunity to thank Lord Walter and these other companions who have helped me survive the Bishop's displeasure. There is much work ahead to undo the evil that Spender wrought, and it is going to take us some time to sort everything out, but by the Grace of God, and with everyone's help, we will succeed.

His words were greeted by another burst of cheering. he waved to the crowd, then turned back to his friends.

"Walter, I think it would be best if I, and the others, went to the palazzo and see if we can get a start on sorting out the mess, so that you can see to things here." He grinned. "In case you hadn't realized it, I'm making you my Seneschal. I need someone I can really trust in that position."

Walter's lips quirked upwards, "Yes, Your Highness." He turned to Christian. "Escort His Highness, and the others to the palazzo. I will join you there when I have made a start on cleaning out the Cathedral."

Christian acknowledge the order, then picked out four men to accompany them, deeming that in their present mood, no-one would be likely to interfere with their progress.

--oo0oo--

When they arrived at the boarded up palazzo, they found some of King Guillermo's former retainers waiting for them. A stately looking old man stepped forward.

"I'm Bruno Corelli, Your Highness. I was the head of your father's household."

Fox nodded. "Yes, I remember you."

"The palazzo is not in as bad condition as it looks, Your Highness," Bruno assured him as he threw open the front door. "It's only really the hall that needs cleaning up, we've kept the rest of the house in good repair, and once the boards are taken off the windows, most of the rooms will be ready for use."

"That's very good news Bruno, I can't tell you how grateful I am." Fox said leading the way inside. He was very relieved that at least they wouldn't have to find somewhere to live as well as sorting out the city's problems, because there was no way that he was going to take up residence in the cathedral again.

--oo0oo--

Alex was shown to a large bedroom in the same wing as the Royal Apartments. The adrenalin rush from the fight, and the excitement of the events in the square, had now worn off, and he was feeling very tired. He stripped off his outer clothing, washed and shaved, then sat on the bed wondering what he was supposed to do next.

Some hours later, Walter and Fox came looking for him, and found Alex fast asleep in a very uncomfortable looking position, having toppled sideways on the bed.

Fox smiled fondly down at the angelic-looking young man. "You know, Walter, between me keeping him awake at night, and you doing the same during the day, he hasn't had a lot of sleep recently."

Walter laughed. "Let's get him undressed and into bed. If he wakes up while we're doing that we'll take him next door with us, if not it'll be better to leave him to sleep. It's not as if either of us will be able to stay awake for long."

They finished undressing the sleeping man, and tucked him underneath the bedclothes. Alex only stirred once; when Fox leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, he half smiled, and muttered, "Spasiba, Tasha. Dobry noch."

Fox looked up at Walter and raised an eyebrow. Walter shrugged and shook his head. "I've no idea, Fox. We'll have to ask him about it tomorrow."

They went back to the next room, and got into bed themselves.

"It's so good to be able to hold you, Walter." Fox felt a sleepy laugh rumble through the massive chest, and smiled. "Good night, Walter."

"Sleep safe, my love."

--oo0oo--

Early the next morning, when Alex awoke, he was surprised to find himself naked under the bedclothes, and try as he might, he really couldn't remember getting in to bed. The remnants of a strange dream came to mind, and he puzzled about a few images that he remembered.

Sitting up he looked around the room. His clothes were folded on a chair by the dresser, and there was a robe lying over the foot of the bed, ready for his use.

Giving a shrug, he got up and donned the robe, then noticed a half-open door, almost hidden behind a curtain, which explained why he hadn't noticed it the day before. Going over to investigate it, he peeked around the edge and saw Fox and Walter lying in bed with their arms wrapped around one another.

With a heavy heart he turned away. They didn't need him any more. Still, at least he was free, and now that he was older, perhaps he could find out where he came from.

--oo0oo--

Because everything, and everybody, was still disorganized, no-one took any notice of him when he went into the kitchen and helped himself to a late breakfast; nor later when he went into the storeroom and took some trail supplies.

He carried the bulging saddlebags into the stable, and saddled the grey horse that had been Spender's, then rode slowly through the narrow streets and out of the city gates. Once out of the city, he turned in the direction of the cliff house, at least he knew where he could have a roof over his head, and rest his horse and himself for a few nights.

--oo0oo--

Fox came slowly awake and rolled on to his back. It was so good to be back in his own home, with Walter and Alex....

Thinking of Alex, Fox got out of bed and went to fetch him, and frowned when he found the bed was empty. He touched the indentation where Alex had lain, and found that it was cold, so Alex had obviously been awake for some time.

Wanting to get the three of them into the same bed as soon as possible, Fox quickly got dressed and went to find Bruno.

Tracking the old retainer down in the kitchen, Fox asked if he knew where Alex had gone.

Maria, the cook, overheard them and said, "I fed breakfast to your young green-eyed friend about an hour or so ago. Then he left the palazzo. I think he went towards the stables... he looked very sad."

Thanking her, Fox hurried outside, and called for Carlo, the head groom. He soon discovered from him that Alex had been seen riding away on the grey stallion. Telling Carlo to have Goliath, and his own horse, Brutus saddled, he hurried back to the bedroom.

Walter was just getting dressed when Fox rushed in. "I wondered where you were," he said. "I looked to see if you were next-"

"Alex has gone," Fox panted. "He rode out of the stables with full saddlebags about an hour ago. I think, he may think that we don't want him any more."

"We must go after him!" Walter exclaimed, hopping on one leg, trying to force his foot into a boot.

"I've ordered Goliath and Brutus to be saddled," Fox told him, throwing a cloak around his shoulders. "They should be waiting for us by the time we get back downstairs. Come on."

They rode as fast as they dared through the city streets, and halted at the city gates where Walter asked the guards if they had seen a dark-haired man on a grey stallion pass through. The sergeant of the guard told them that he had left about an hour ago, and turned North. They thanked him, and turned their own horses in that direction, setting off at a fast pace.

As they galloped on, Fox worried that they might miss Alex's trail. Walter, however, was sure that Alex would keep to the road to put as much distance as he could between himself and the town of Aquila.

Their horses were breathing hard when they topped a rise, but their haste was rewarded, for there, near the bottom of the next valley, was as tall figure on a grey horse. Urging their mounts forward, they thundered down the road towards their quarry.

Hearing the loud beat of hoofs behind him, Alex turned in alarm, rising in his saddle, ready to flee.

"Alex! No! Wait!" Skinner bellowed.

Recognizing the voice, Alex sat back in the saddle and turned his horse to face the oncoming riders.

When they reached their quarry, Walter and Fox dismounted, and motioning Alex to do the same, led their mounts into the sparse shade of a small tree.

"Where were you going, Alex?" Walter asked.

Alex shrugged, looking at the ground. "I had a strange dream last night; I was a young boy again, being tucked into my bed, and I didn't think you would want me around any more, so I had sort of decided to find out where I came from..."

Mulder, feeling that no mere words were going to be enough, walked straight up to Alex and enfolded him in a warm embrace. "Please don't run away from us Alex," he murmured into the elfin ear so close to his mouth.

Walter, following Fox's lead, moved behind Alex, and wrapped his arms around the two younger men. He added his own plea, "We have grown to love you, Alex, please don't leave."

Tears welled up in Alex's eyes, as he clung tightly to Fox. It had been so long since someone had loved him, or needed him for more than just his skills, that he was overwhelmed by his emotions and unable to speak.

After a while, Fox said, "Come back with us."

The sable head on his shoulder nodded, and a ragged voice whispered, "Yes."

They remounted and rode at an easy pace back to Aquila. When they reached the palazzo, they handed their horses over to the grooms, and returned to the Royal Apartment.

Fox wasn't going to take any more chances of things going awry, and herded both Walter and Alex into the master bedroom ahead of him. He closed and locked all the outer doors, then started to strip off his clothes. Walter had started to undress as soon as he'd set foot in the room, and when Alex hesitated, both Walter and Fox went over to help him, undressing themselves and their young lover at the same time.

Still with Alex in the middle, they moved towards the huge four-poster bed, they threw back the covers and climbed on to the feather filled mattress. They laid him down on his back, Fox to his right, Walter to his left, and layed their hands possessively on his body. Fox's hand played with the nipples on the almost hairless chest, while Walter's gravitated further south following a line of hair to an already half-erect penis. Alex, meanwhile, had worked his arms around the necks of his lovers and was ecstatically kissing first one, then the other, occasionally pushing their heads together so that could kiss one another and give him a chance to breathe.

Then Fox changed his mode of attack, fastening his mouth on the pebbled nipples, and using his hand to reach over to stroke Walter's cock. Alex urged Fox up on to his knees, and reached between his legs to massage the erection he found there.

Walter felt his control fading fast, and paused in his ministrations to retrieve the flask of oil he'd brought in with him.

Alex moaned, and humped his hips in frustration, as the huge hand left him, so Fox abandoned the nipples to swallow the neglected cock to its root. Which gave Alex's spaced out mind an idea. He curled himself forward until he could get his mouth on Fox's cock, and started to suck, Fox gave a high-pitched yelp of surprise and toppled sideways, Alex followed him and was pleased to find that with both of them lying on their sides he had much easier access.

Walter grinned at the contortions his lovers were performing, then found that he also appreciated their position, since he now had unobstructed access to Alex's luscious ass. He quickly oiled himself, and Alex, and thrust his cock into the slick hole.

As Walter thrust faster, so Alex sucked faster, which encouraged Fox to greater efforts. Alex came first, shooting into Fox's mouth, his ass muscles squeezing down took Walter over the edge with him, and Fox hearing Walter's shout of ecstasy, lost it too and poured his come down Alex's throat.

Sated and happy, Fox turned around and as they cuddled up together, he murmured, "This is how I hope our lives will always be; the three of us together."

The other two smiled at him, love shining in their eyes, Alex kissed and hugged him, and Walter just said, "Yes, together forever...."

The End.

--oo0oo--

Translation:
Spasiba, Tasha. Dobry noch. = Thank you, Tasha. Good night.