Ursula R2 Part One

Alex had heard a stealthy sound, coming closer from the cover of shadows. He instantly took rat form, leaving his borrowed clothing in a heap as he scurried out. Prince Mulder shot a scornful look in Alex's direction as he took up Walter's sword. Evil Bishop Spender for most of his life may have held him captive, but he was still the son of a noble warrior. Alas, that his mother had fallen victim to the Bishop's guile, leaving Mulder to his guardianship when she suddenly died.

Taking a wide legged bent-kneed stance that would have gladdened his lover's wolfish heart to see the effects of his few fighting lessons, Mulder faced the large man with the burn-scarred face. The man laughed at him and said, "Right, put that down, fancy boy. I'll get a pretty price for that horse and sword and a prettier one yet for you."

The man held an ax, not a woodsman ax but a huge battle-ax that looked as if it could crush Mulder's sword. Nevertheless, Mulder would not surrender without a fight. However, he didn't have a chance. The man's accomplices had slipped through loose planks in the back of the stable. Mulder turned hearing the scuffle of feet. Someone struck him a glancing blow on the head and he tumbled to the ground, unconscious.

Rough hands were turning Mulder this way and that when he awoke. He was naked, his hands bound behind his back, and one ankle in a chain. A screech of outrage burst from his throat as he felt the indignity of the burned man's finger thrust in his ass.

"Not a virgin, I warrant. That big man, wherever he's got to has been tampering with him. It would do no harm for me to have a taste," the scarred man said.

"We should sell him back to the Bishop. There's a big reward for him and the other one, the green eyed witch," a woman said. She was not remotely like the females that Mulder knew. Those were mostly Spender's kept women. The bishop had a taste for women with red hair, tiny fair skinned ones. They had white hands, voices like birds, and talked only of dancing and fine gowns. This woman was stoop-shouldered, her hair hung like gray rags in braids, her skin was seamed deeply and there was dirt in every crease of her rough skin.

"Ah, Clovis, you know I'd never give that devil the satisfaction, because he did this to my face just for refusing him our daughter as his whore. For all the good that it did hiding her away. If we didn't need the gold to buy a piece of land in the next kingdom, I'd skin this puling brat alive and hand his hide on the walls of Bishop-Town just to hurt Spender," the man answered, his huge hand rubbing the ridges of scars that twisted his face.

"I can agree to selling the man, husband, but not to you having a taste or to hurting the prince. Share and share alike I say. If you sin with him outside our marriage, then I will have him too. And it's no doubt not his fault what Spender does. They say he was a prisoner," the woman said, dirty hands prodded at Mulder's balls, which did their best to crawl up and hide in his pelvis.

"You're right, good wife" the woodsman replied.

"Let's be off before the big man comes back," the woman said.

^^^^^v^^^^^ o ^^^^^v^^^^^

Sharp ears had save Alex before. He didn't remember much about his childhood just screaming and flames. He remembered a huge hand plucking him from the hiding hole where he and his brother had been hidden. His grandmother, the village wise woman, had been the only other survivor from his family besides the two terrified boys. She was very old and although she seemed strong before the raid, she faded away by the day in slavery. They made her work very hard, hauling wood and water, cooking, as well as tending to the special slaves such as Alex and Timur.

Before they even reached the first market place, Alex's grandmother had begun to cough and wheeze. Soon she could not work and the guards beat her. As she lay dying, she pointed at her two grandsons and said, "Bless you! May the lady give you the gift to hide from harm."

Neither boy understood anything except that the last person who loved them had been lost. They clung to each other until they were dragged screaming onto the block. Alex was sold to a caravan going south, bound for a harem that belonged to a man even more wicked than Spender was. He heard the guards talking of what would happen to him and he quivered in terror. He shook and he shivered, huddling smaller and smaller into himself until he looked at his hand and saw it was a pretty little rat paw. He ran quickly out into the slave stockade and spent the night looking for Timur, but his brother had been taken off the moment he had been sold. Alex had never seen him again.

Coming to a stable, Alex had meant to sleep in the straw until he saw a pretty painted wagon parked at the side. Creeping into the place, Alex found a large chest filled with all sorts of gewgaws and costumes. He snuggled into the bottom, covering himself with a big velvet cloak and tears slowly drying on his cheeks, he dreamt for the last time of his happy family before the raiders came.

When Alex woke, he felt motion. He crept out of the cabinet and heard tuneful whistling. As he scurried to the door of the wagon, the driver yelled, "Whoa!"

The horses stopped just as Alex pulled on the rope handle to open the door. As Alex scurried out in human form, a huge hand caught him. He dangled from a giant's arm, looking into a broad face. His captor had small dark eyes, surrounded by rays of wrinkles, a wide mouth with loose liver colored lips and jagged yellow teeth. His nose seemed to have been broken so thoroughly that it splayed puddle-like over his face. The man was four feet wide and must have been almost seven feet tall. If Alex had been in rat form, he would have turned and bit the man.

A smaller man leapt down from the wagon. He was as small as the giant was tall. His shoulders were hunched and his legs were bowed. However he was dressed beautifully in a velvet cloak that had gold question marks all over it. His tights were purple like a king's and he had on a black jerkin, fretted all over to show his fine linen shirt; it was embroidered with the sun, the moon, and the stars.

"Well, well, well," the man remarked, "the little slave who can transform into a rat. I was looking for a likely boy or girl for my traveling show and you look very likely. How would you like a bit of work, my green-eyed friend?"

^^^^^v^^^^^ o ^^^^^v^^^^^

That was the start of the second happy time in Alex's life. He traveled with Pandemonium and Samson until he a grown man. He learned all sorts of tricks from them and all he had to do was either to look very pretty in a glittery costume and distract the crowd to make Pandemonium's illusions work or to do the rat trick. For with Pandemonium's help, Alex learned that all he had to do was to remember being very afraid and soon he was wearing his furry skin.

Alex might have gone on with Pandemonium's Traveling Medicine show forever but they made the mistake of entering the kingdom of Aquila. There, as they were working the crowd, not even picking any pockets, which Pandemonium only had Alex do when they were excessively stingy, the local lord had them arrested and brought to his castle.

The lord of that castle had white hair, pale blue eyes, and the cleanest fingernails that Alex had ever seen. He had sharp cheekbones, a thin mouth and a small wobble of a chin. Soon all three of the entertainers were before him in chains. Alex didn't have a hope of escaping as the man had the hall surrounded by guards who had terrier dogs straining on leashes. If he transformed into a rat, he would have been instantly torn to pieces.

"I've been watching you," the man said. "I am Warwick Mato Mannerly, lord of Horse-Run."

Pandemonium huffed, "If you have watched us, you know that we are harmless and law abiding."

"The boy's a pick pocket and the medicine you sell is mostly brandy with flavorings," WMM said.

Trembling with terror, Alex held back from turning into a rat by dint of his strong will. He brought his knuckles up to his mouth as he cringed. The penalty for picking pockets in Aquila was to lose a hand. Caught again, lose another hand and if you made any more trouble, they stretched your neck.

"Now, I think we understand the stake," Lord Mannerly said.

Growling, Samson snarled, "Touch the boy and I'll tear your arm off and beat you to death with it." The giant strained at his chains and they begin to creak in the most amazing way as if even these huge links could not hold the strongman.

A clicking sound called Alex's attention to the archers who stood between the men with the terriers. WMM waved an indolent hand at his guards and said, "These arrows will strike you if you don't stop this moment, Samson. Now, here's the bargain. I have no intention of harming you if young Alex with the green eyes does me a favor."

"What?" Alex asked, shaking. He suspected what the man desired. Many times the wealthy men or women who happened upon the show wanted him to lie with them. Pandemonium had always put them off with flattering words and the tale that the magic would be spoiled if Alex lost his virginity. It had usually worked, but if the patrons persisted, then they fled to the next town. The memory of the rape of his town kept Alex from spending his virginity with any of the pretty townspeople who offered.

Sex to him was the memory of fear, blood, and force. He made do with his own hand often of course, dreaming of soft caresses, kisses, and vague doings that bore no resemblance to the awful things he had observed. He would have trusted no one but Pandemonium or Samson to take him, but his friends weren't interested at all. They were odd in that both of them preferred females exclusively, a vice almost unheard of in this part of the world. Some said that to favor only the opposite sex was unnatural, but others said that it must be some inborn genetic disturbance that should be tolerated as harmless.

Alex had almost tried one of the blond women who had been brought to the caravan wagon by Pandemonium, but townspeople had interrupted by driving them all off. So Alex remained a virgin despite his great age.

Still, if Alex must, he would lie under the man and let himself be taken to save his friends. WMM crooked a finger and Alex was released from his bonds. He said, "Now, my dear, undress and let me see what you have."

Tears fell down his face as Alex stripped. He worked hard, doing chores, tumbling and dancing; his body was strong and well formed from all these activities. Now in his late twenties, he was as fine a young man as anyone had ever seen. Some even said that he was as pretty as the prince of Aquila although Prince Mulder was as well known for his beauty as for his keen intellect.

"You'll do," Lord Mannerly declared.

To Alex's great surprise, he was not ravished. He was treated fairly well and was allowed to see his friends leave after Lord Mannerly laid a hex on them all. Alex believed that Pandemonium and Samson would die in misery if he didn't keep his bargain with WMM.

The next three years were spent in all manner of study. Alex learned to read, to use a magic mirror for communication, and to play a lute. He continued to dance and tumble, learning advanced forms to please his future master. After a time, Alex became fond of Lord Mannerly, understanding that his captor had the highest of reasons for taking him. He learned of the treachery that ended in the king's death, the seduction of the queen, and the captivity under the pretense of guardianship of the prince.

Mannerly's cause became Alex's cause for he knew well the cruelty of the bishop after talking to the refuges that thronged the estate. The Bishop was a blight on the land, taxing the nobles, exploiting the peasants; it was rumored that he took some of the strongest lads and forced them to run before his hounds, hunting them down like so many stags. His harem reviled the southern potentates, many of them casually taken at his whim from grieving families, or spouses. When he grew bored with them, he was said to use them in his experiments in alchemy. Certainly there were rumors of strange howling and screams from the deepest dungeons below the castle.

At last, the day of terror came. Alex was brought with the other tribute and taxes to the Bishop. His neck was in a green velvet band from which dangled a silk ribbon. He had been bathed and groomed until he shone with a gentle glow as beautiful as the full moon. Looking at the bishop through quivering lashes, Alex saw the lust in his face.


WMM had done his best to allow Alex to keep out of the Bishop's bed. He too told the tale that if Alex lost his virginity; he would no longer be able to transform. Alex believed the story himself by this time. Spender's visage became stormy, but then he grinned. He wanted to keep Alex's unique talent intact, but he still had a use for the rat-boy.

Soon, Alex was sent to spy on Prince Mulder for Spender. What a turn of events, that Spender thought he was using Alex when Alex was using him. Alex enjoyed his long months of companionship to Prince Mulder. Indeed, he enjoyed being petted and stroked so much that he sometimes almost forgot himself and transformed back into a human. However, he held off, feeling that Mulder would be very angry to find out that his pet rat was a mere trick by Spender.

Something new came into Alex's life when he blushingly was witness to the twin seduction of Sir Walter and Prince Mulder. When he watched them couple, he knew at last the lust that others felt for him.

^^^^^v^^^^^ o ^^^^^v^^^^^

No coward, Alex prided himself on also not being a fool, he could count and five men and one woman were definitely not the right odds. He tucked himself in rat form into the pannier of Goliath and nibbled on his tail in worry. He knew this was a good plan, but would Prince Mulder agree?

The jouncing ride in the saddlebag went on and on. Alex was stiff and sore, much needing to empty his bladder, eat, and rest. However, he endured, having no other choice. His sharp rodent ears monitored the sounds of the camp until there was nothing more to be heard, but the noise of the wilderness.

Poking his wriggling nose out of the saddlebag, Alex twitched his nostrils, using his sense of smell to locate Mulder's captors. He smelled them by the fire, rancid smell of old sweat, bad food, and unwashed clothing almost overwhelming the smoke of the fire. Ah, but like an enticing breeze, he caught the scent of the prince.

Scampering down, Alex ran from where the saddlebags had been laid to the prince. Mulder was tied to a tree with roughly plaited rope. He had fallen asleep, his head drooping against one shoulder in a way that surely would mean a terrible neck-ache later. Maybe he would let Alex massage it?


Sharp rodent teeth made short work of the bonds, Alex felt the last strands part as Mulder flexed his wrists. The prince grabbed Alex, causing him to utter a startled squeak and crept to Goliath, lifting the heavy saddle as quietly as he could. As Mulder fastened the saddle girth, Alex kept a nervous watch. Goliath snorted and tromped noisily on the ground, waking the sleeping peasants.

The man roared as he saw that his booty was escaping, picking up his ax, he brandished it fiercely. The horse reared and knocked Prince Mulder to the ground, stunning him. Alex changed to his human form and scurried to pick up Walter's sword. He didn't know how to handle one, but he had to try to protect the prince.

"Oh, so the witch is back? We can sell you too, pretty changeling," laughed the scarred giant, confidently angling toward Alex with the ax.

As the man swung, Alex tried to block the blow. The sword did not break, but it rang with a clear sound, vibrating down Alex's entire arm. The old woman had a torch now and she also was joining the fray. Bravely, Alex raised the sword again, trying to defend the fallen prince. As the old woman jabbed the torch at him, her husband struck again, knocking the sword from Alex's hand. Alex cringed back as he saw the handle whirling toward his head.

Before the ax could strike him, a furious hurricane of snarls, growls, and gnashing teeth struck into the man. A wolf...was it Walter or had the sounds of struggle alerted some rabid animal? The jaws closed around the scarred man's arm, snapping it with a horrid sound. The wolf worried the flesh, shaking his head back and forth with blood and spittle flying from his mouth. The old woman screamed and rushed at the struggling forms with her torch. Alex launched into action like the tumbler he had been, flying head over heels to knock the torch to the ground.

The first rays of dawn froze them, Mulder stirred on the ground, arching toward the rays as if called to heaven. The wolf let the man loose as he blurred back into human form. All the fight had gone out of the peasants and they fled into the woods, leaving their possessions. Alex sat down on the dew damp ground and shivered, just now realizing his left arm had sustained a glancing cut from the ax blade. He clamped his right hand over his wounded left arm and quietly went into shock.

Cerulean Blue's next.